Armour is buckled, spear edges honed to a monomolecular sharpness, and potions securely stored. Hades checks the edge of his Stygian Iron sword one last time. The silence in the armory is heavy, broken only by the soft clink of Hecate securing her vials of distilled potions. Their target is a king, their method, assassination.
"This is a great strategy," Hecate says, a grim smile touching her lips as she slides a dagger into her boot. "A surgical strike. No grand armies, no glorious last stands. Just a portal and a blade in the heart of a sleeping tyrant. Efficient, just like Ghourmound."
"Agreed," Hades replies, his voice low. "We bypass his entire army and end this war before it truly begins."
He and Hectate closes their eyes, fusing their Underworld divinity with the essences of secret, arcane and mysterious substance from giant chasm. The air hums with latent power.
'Omniarch Gate.'
A wide portal tears open in the center of the room, revealing a glimpse of a dark, silent pocket dimension where the massive form of Cronus sleeps, his chest rising and falling in a slow, rhythmic cadence. Mysterious substance disappear into nothing.
Hades looks at Hecate, his gaze steady. "Ready?"
She takes his hand, her grip firm. "Always."
As they step toward the threshold, a voice woven from shadow itself stops them. "Wait! Do not take that step!"
They turn to see a dark haze materialize into the formidable form of Nyx, her expression severe.
"You must not do this," she states, her tone leaving no room for argument.
"But why?" Hades and Hecate ask in unison, frustration evident in their voices.
"The threads of fate are tangled, but some possibilities shine with a dark clarity," Nyx explains, her eyes seeing a vision far away. "In the moment of that Cronus killed, I do not see victory. I see… a collapse. A great falling. The world, torn from its foundations, plunging into a void for reasons my sight cannot yet pierce. The consequence of this act is an abyss I cannot see the bottom of."
Hecate pales. "Lady Nyx, are you certain of this?"
"I am 90 percent certain," Nyx replies, her form already beginning to dissipate back into the gloom. "The decision, however, remains in your hands." With that, she is gone.
Hades lets out a sharp breath and waves his hand, the Omniarch Gate snapping shut. The image of the sleeping Titan vanishes.
"Now what?" Hecate asks, her assassination plan crumbling.
"Now, we wait and—"
"Hades… I… fall… into slumber… the seal is… breaking…"
The voice of Tartarus, strained and distant, echoes directly into Hades's mind. His eyes widen. There is no more time for waiting.
"Close the Underworld!" His voice, amplified by divine authority, booms across the entire realm, reaching every corner. "Not a single soul is permitted to enter or exit! All guards to the borders, now!"
Hecate startles at his sudden, decisive action. "Hades, what is it?"
"Tartarus is falling asleep. The Giant Chasm is unsealing." He doesn't wait for a reply, grabbing her hand and teleporting them both to the deepest, most secure floor of Tartarus, where the monster Campe once stood guard.
Druvak sits in the center of the cavernous space, deep in meditation. He is on his feet in an instant, sword materializing in his hand as he senses their arrival. "My lord, my lady. What brings you to this place?"
Before Hades can answer, the very fabric of the prison groans in protest.
CRRRACK-BOOM!
The wall of Tartarus doesn't just crack; it shrieks, stone grinding against itself before exploding inward. Beyond the rubble is not more rock, but a terrifying nothingness—a void that bleeds cold. From that abyss, a claw of polished, obsidian bone scrapes against the floor, each scratch echoing like a death rattle.
A giant, simian creature with a skull-like head pulls itself through the breach, its hollow eye sockets fixing on them.
"OoooOoooAaaa!!!" Its shatter is a wave of pure dissonance.
It lunges. Druvak meets the charge, his blade a blur of blue energy that cleaves the creature cleanly from shoulder to hip. It collapses, twitching.
It is only the first. Hundreds more pour from the chasm, a tidal wave of skeletal monkeys.
"Form a perimeter!" Hecate commands, her hands already weaving spells. A barrage of arcane fire spears materializes in the air and shoots forward, engulfing the front line in a cataclysmic explosion.
Hades and Druvak become a whirlwind of death, their swords and spears cutting down any creature that escapes the magical onslaught. But the chasm is endless, vomiting forth more of the horrors.
Then, the true nightmare begins. The slain creatures do not bleed. Their forms lose cohesion, collapsing into a tar-like, black liquid that slithers across the floor, absorbing the fallen and coalescing into a single, throbbing, giant sphere of pure darkness. The sphere rolls toward them with alarming speed.
Druvak steps forward, his sword held tight. 'Raging Water Sword Style!' A crescent wave of pressurized water slams into the sphere, slicing it neatly in two.
For a moment, there is silence. Then, the two halves quiver and reform into two separate, identical spheres, both charging once more.
"I know how to deal with this!" Hades shouts, his hands igniting with ghostly green fire. 'Soul Flare!' He hurls the soul fire at the entities, the flames that can burn the very essence of a being. The fire washes over them, but when it dims, the black spheres are utterly untouched, still rolling forward.
"What?!" Hades exclaims, his mind racing. 'Soul fire is ineffective? That's only possible if they have no soul to burn. But how can something without a soul be alive?'
The spheres split again and again with every physical strike, their numbers multiplying. They are being overwhelmed not by strength, but by endless regeneration.
Hecate pushes forward, her palms blazing with a pure, silvery light. "Silver Flame!"
She unleashes a torrent of her unique fire. Where it touches the black spheres, they don't split or reform. They simply hiss, shriek, and evaporate into nothing, purified out of existence.
The immediate threat is gone. Druvak stares, panting, at the empty space where the spheres were. "What in the abyss are these things?"
"Soulless creatures," Hades answers, his voice grim. "They are the native fauna, used as livestock within the Giant Chasm."
"Livestock?!" Druvak cannot hide his shock. "Not even cannon fodder?" He quickly collects himself, bowing his head. "Forgive my outburst, my lord."
"Their existence is a form of chaotic, anti-life energy," Hades continues, his mind working at a feverish pace. He looks from the breach to Hecate, and then to the vast, empty cavern around them. An idea, terrible and brilliant, takes root. 'A permanent seal might be impossible, but a containment field... a prison within the prison...'
"A labyrinth," he states, the word a solution in itself. "We cannot close the door, so we will build a maze before it. A great, shifting labyrinth infused with purifying magic at its core. It will contain the chasm's output, trapping these things and anything else that emerges. They can be our guards' training fodder, a source of materials... and a first line of defense against whatever worse horrors lie deeper in."
He turns to his wife and general. "Hecate, you and Druvak will hold this position. Summon Amazel and anyone else who can withstand wave. I will go to the upper realm and have Brontos forge a new seal based on this principle."
Hecate nods, her expression resolute. "We will hold the line. Go. Find what we need, and be swift."
In an instant, Hades teleports to Brontos's forge. "Uncle Brontos!" he yells, his voice cutting through the rhythmic hammering.
The giant smith storms out, his face a mask of irritation. "Shut your mouth, you noisy brat! I'm working!"
"Drop everything!" Hades commands. "I need you to forge Nullification Bricks, imbued with the concept of negation. Use the Miramor Core from my personal vault. It's the only thing powerful enough to fuel it."
Brontos blinks, the anger replaced by confusion. "Whoa, slow down, boy! What's happening?"
"Tartarus has fallen asleep. The Giant Chasm is open, and the things spilling out are just the livestock. The real nightmares are still to come. There is no time for questions! Just work!"
Without another word, Hades erupts into his true form. The air itself screams as the Black Phoenix shoots forward, not flying, but tearing a seam through reality, leaving a trail of fractured space and dying light in his desperate wake.