A beautiful twilight sky hung over the Underworld, casting soft violet and amber light across the realm. In the royal office, Hades and Hecate sat in high-backed chairs, the room illuminated by floating orbs of gentle light. Nixi rested on Hecate's lap, purring softly as Hecate's fingers traced patterns through her fur.
Before them stood their most trusted subordinates: Amazel, Druvak, Sebastian, and Julie, their postures rigid with attention.
Hades leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "The moment the last ray of sunlight fades from the mortal world," he announced, his voice echoing softly in the chamber, "Hecate and I will strike Mount Othrys directly alongside Zeus and Poseidon. The Underworld will be in your hands."
Hecate's voice was precise and clear as she assigned duties. "Sebastian and Amazel will manage all administrative matters. Julie, Druvak guard Tartarus and the Giant Chasm. No breaches. No exceptions."
"As you wish, Your Majesties," they replied in unison, bowing deeply before filing out.
Once alone, Hecate's hand gently stroked Nixi's head. "And you, my little guardian," she whispered, "will help them maintain order, won't you?"
Nixi half-opened her eyes and rubbed her face against Hecate's hand, responding with a soft "Meow" before settling back into contented purrs.
Hecate leaned her head against Hades' shoulder, closing her eyes. The silence stretched, comfortable yet heavy with unspoken fears. "What do you think?" she murmured, her voice barely audible. "Can we... truly win against Cronus?"
Hades was silent for a long moment, his gaze distant. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer than she had ever heard it. "The truth?" He leaned his head against hers, a gesture of shared weight. "I don't know if we can win. But I believe in someone who believe in me."
---
Evening descended upon the mortal world. The sun, a fiery half-circle, sank into the sea, staining the water a deep, burning orange. The silver crescent of the moon began to glow softly in the darkening violet sky.
Hades and Hecate hovered in the air above Mount Othrys, their sharp gazes fixed on the Northern Pillar and Atlas's palace.
"Koios and Krios are training in their respective domains," Hades informed her, his voice low. "Atlas, Hyperion, Iapetus, and Pallas are within. Zeus will handle Krios, Poseidon will take Koios, and you—"
"I will take Hyperion," Hecate finished, her eyes already scanning the palace for her target. She glanced at the dying light on the horizon. "We still have a moment."
Hades's shoulders slumped slightly, a rare show of fatigue. His eyes drifted to the pinnacle where Cronus's opulent palace stood. "Do you know," he began, "that after the eight known Primordials, there was one more, in the distant past?"
Hecate narrowed her eyes, mentally counting. "You don't mean Eros or Drexnor?"
"No," Hades shook his head. "I speak of Ourea, the Primordial of Mountains. In the beginning, the world was flat. No valleys, no mountains, no caves. Just an endless plain. Then Gaea gave birth to Ourea, who shaped the world into what we see now."
"How did he end?" Hecate asked, genuinely curious.
"Even as a Primordial, he was the weakest. But he was utterly obsessed with Gaea. Oceanus used that weakness, forcing Ourea to sacrifice himself for her. And so he ended, and Gaea absorbed his essence."
"Why would that delusional fish-man do that?"
"Because Ourea had coincidentally ruined his schemes on several occasions. Oceanus ended him in the cleanest way possible, leaving no one to suspect—" As Hades spoke, the last sliver of sun vanished below the horizon.
Night fell.
Instantly, their divinities of Night and Darkness swelled, a tide of shadow and cool energy flooding their veins.
"Let's save the chit-chat for another time," Hecate said, a dangerous smile gracing her lips. "We have guests to greet."
As if on cue, the four Titans emerged from the palace. Iapetus vanished from sight. Atlas slammed his gauntlets together with a world-shattering CLANG. Pallas's armor flowed over his body in a ripple of divine light, his spear appearing in a flash of silver. Hyperion didn't even bother to summon his weapon, merely crossing his arms over his chest as if bored.
"You saved us the trouble of hunting you down!" Hyperion roared, his voice echoing with solar fury.
Hades glanced at Hecate. "Anything to say to them?"
"Nothing worth the energy," Hecate replied, her focus already inward. "Nythra." The scepter materialized in her hand, the dark crystal at its tip swirling with violet mist.
Hades called his weapons, "Helkarion, Velkarion." The polearm and chain appeared in flashes of obsidian and crimson light. Then he dove toward the Titans.
Hyperion's golden armor and sword materialized in a blaze of light. He kicked off the ground, charging at Hades like a comet.
Just before impact, Hades invoked, 'Phantom Transformation.'
His body dissolved into a cloud of black haze. Hyperion's sword passed through the mist harmlessly.
'Eternal Night Domain.'
Hecate's scepter pulsed with an absolute, light-devouring darkness that swelled from the crystal. It unwove the day itself, swallowing a hundred-meter sphere of the mountain—and Hyperion with it. From the outside, it was a perfect, silent orb of void.
The black haze coalesced, and Hades reformed. He swiftly sidestepped and delivered a powerful kick to the empty air behind him.
'Heuk!'
Iapetus grunted as his invisibility shattered, the kick sending him stumbling back. Atlas threw a punch that could level a city, but Hades flowed around it, the wind of its passage tearing at his clothes. The Titan's fist hit the ground, and spiderwebs of cracks radiated outwards, deepening into fissures.
'Open first, second, third gate.'
Energy surged through Hades, elevating his strength, agility, and flexibility. He raised Helkarion high and brought it down in a sweeping arc at Atlas.
Atlas crossed his arms, blocking the slash with his gauntlets. The collision produced a deafening clang and a shockwave that pulverized the stone around them. But Atlas held.
'Open fourth, fifth, and sixth gate.'
Another wave of power erupted from Hades, visible as a ripple of black-and-violet light. The air stilled. All superfluous motion vanished from his form. He became a statue of perfect, lethal efficiency. He channeled divine energy into Helkarion and pressed down. This time, Atlas was driven to one knee. The blade of Helkarion bit into his shoulder, and golden ichor began to drip from the wound.
Iapetus and Pallas charged from behind. Hades's black-wings wide open from his back. They met the attacks with a sound like grinding obsidian.
"Velkarion—Pallas." The chain slithered from Hades's waist like a serpent. Its spearhead lunged for Pallas. The Titans swung their weapons to intercept, but the chain dodged with unnatural agility, wrapping around Pallas's spear.
Velkarion was not merely physical. It passed through the spear shaft as if it were a ghost, its jagged head phasing through Pallas's armor and chest without breaking the skin. It struck something deeper.
Pallas's eyes flew wide, not with pain, but with existential horror as the chain latched onto his very essence. "Aaaaahhhh!!!" His scream was the sound of a soul being unraveled.
"PALLAS!!" Iapetus and Atlas shouted in unison.
Atlas roared, pouring massive divine energy into his gauntlets. They shone with golden radiance, and he shoved Helkarion back, forcing Hades to disengage.
But it was too late. Velkarion retracted, dragging an ethereal, shimmering echo of the Titan—his soul—behind it, leaving his body to crumple, empty, to the ground.
The roar of collapsing stone filled the mountain. Pallas's final scream still lingered in the wind when silence dropped like a blade. The smell of ozone and burnt metal hung thick.
Hades stood alone on the plateau, Helkarion gleaming in his hand, its runes pulsing slow and steady.
Then the earth shuddered. Atlas and Iapetus stepped through the settling dust. Their armor was cracked, faces streaked with golden ichor, but their eyes burned with fury.
Atlas rolled his shoulders; the air bent around him. Iapetus flexed his fingers, his cloak flickering with invisible light.
Hades adjusted his grip on Helkarion. His aura was calm, precise.
Atlas moved first, crossing the distance in a blink, fist swinging wide. The gauntlet tore the air apart. Hades parried, metal shrieking as sparks showered. The impact drove both into the ground—stone fractured outward in rings.
Iapetus appeared on his flank, blade thrusting. Hades twisted aside; the edge grazed his ribs, slicing through cloth and drawing a thin line of crimson. He hissed through his teeth, its more irritation than pain.
Atlas capitalized, hammering another punch. Hades caught the blow with Helkarion's shaft; the gauntlet's glow flared and forced him back three steps.
They pressed him together. Iapetus darted in and out, his blade flashing like lightning. Atlas struck with raw weight that bent the mountain. For a moment, the rhythm belonged to them.
A punch connected. Hades's shoulder jolted; dust exploded around him. Another strike followed, this time he blocked, but the shock drove a tremor through his arm. Iapetus's blade slashed again, sparks carving the air.
For a breath, they had him cornered.
Then Hades exhaled, long and quiet. He smiled. "Play time is over."
'Open seventh, eighth, ninth gate.'
All his bruises healed instantly. The air around him became thick and heavy. A violent, dense black haze emanated from him. Iapetus and Atlas felt their hands tremble, their breath coming in rough, heavy pants. Their heartbeats raced as if they were prey before a predator.
Suddenly, Hades moved.
In the next heartbeat, Helkarion cut through the air, intercepting Iapetus mid-dash. The Titan barely saw it but he blocked and the impact ripped his arm open and sent him flying.
Atlas swung down with both fists. Hades met him in mid-motion. The collision split the ground and launched both backward; dust rolled over the plateau like a wave.
Atlas roared and charged again. Hades met him head-on. Their strikes blurred into a storm. Helkarion slicing arcs of gold and black, Atlas answering with crushing blows. Every clash thundered across the mountain.
Iapetus rejoined, cloak flickering, trying to flank. Hades pivoted, ducked under his swing, and countered with the shaft of Helkarion. The strike cracked Iapetus's jaw and sent him spinning.
Atlas grabbed Hades from behind, arms like iron bands. "Got you—"
A pulse of darkness detonated from Hades's body. The force blew Atlas off his feet. Before he could recover, Hades was already in front of him, blade raised.
Atlas blocked with his gauntlet; the shock rang like a bell. Cracks spidered along the golden surface. Atlas snarled, forcing divine light through the weapon to seal them.
Iapetus appeared again, blade aimed for Hades's neck. This time the god turned and caught the blade between two fingers. The metal screamed. He twisted once—snapping it clean.
Iapetus stumbled back, disbelief in his eyes.
"Still standing?" Hades's voice was low, cold. "Impressive."
He drove his elbow into Iapetus's chest. The Titan coughed blood and crashed into the cliff.
Atlas bellowed and slammed his fists together; the air rippled outward. Shockwaves swept the plateau, tearing the ground open. Hades stepped through the gale, unaffected. His eyes, once calm, now glowed with a deep amethyst fire, gleaming with coldness and boundless.
Iapetus forced himself up, coughing golden ichor. "You... damn monster..."
"Monster?" Hades tilted his head slightly. "You still haven't seen one."
'Metal Surge.'
Suddenly, Atlas's eyes widened. "Jump!" he shouted, leaping high.
But Iapetus was too late. The ground beneath him erupted into hundreds of thin metallic tendrils, liquid steel shaped by will. They pierced through his legs, arms, and abdomen, chaining him mid-air. The Titan roared, struggling, but the metal moved with divine will. This are bending and stabbing with surgical cruelty. Each strike sank into his divine flesh and shattered it from within. Golden ichor poured down like molten light.
Hades raised his hand.
'Netherwater Spear.'
A hundred spears of black-blue water formed behind him. With a jerk of his hand, they hurled toward Atlas. The Titan stomped, breaking a metal lance from the earth to use as a shield.
The netherwater spears hit the lance. With a sizzling sound, the lance dissolved into nothing in a second. A few remaining spears struck Atlas directly. The netherwater burned his skin, and one spear, spiraling like a living serpent, impaled him in the chest. The explosion split the mountain ridge. A geyser of black-blue water erupted, devouring everything in its radius. For a moment, even Atlas's divine glow dimmed.
But the Titan roared, his divine light flaring gold once more, shattering the spear within him. His chest steamed with divine blood, but he stood. "You think that's enough to bring me down?"
Hades smiled faintly. "Not quite."
He raised his left hand.
'Shadow Bind.'
A black web spread across the ground, branching from his feet like ink veins. It seized both Titans. Lapetus still bleeding, Atlas still struggling. The shadow solidified, wrapping around their limbs like chains of reality itself.
Atlas growled and forced power through his body. His muscles bulged, divine energy detonated, and the bindings cracked then shattered. He broke free, gasping heavily.
Iapetus, however, could barely move.
Hades's gaze shifted toward him, calm but merciless.
'Dream Void.'
Hades hurled a small violet orb that floated toward the struggling Iapetus. Atlas shouted, "Not this trick again! It won't work on me!"
"Strength burst!" Atlas roared, pouring all his remaining divine energy into his gauntlet and body. The gauntlet shone with golden radiance, and then his body radiated with the same light. He forcefully tore the shadow bind and dodged the dream void.
Atlas lunged, gathering divine energy between his palms for a grand clap, the same attack that had once devastated Poseidon.
Hades didn't flinch.
He mirrored Atlas's movement,but where the Titan gathered brute force, Hades cupped his hands, pulling a swirling, sickly green energy from the air itself, the very stuff of souls. He clapped before Atlas could.
'Soulquake.'
The impact was silent. No shockwave, no thunder. But the world flinched. The air fractured like glass, and Atlas froze, his roar dying in his throat. His eyes bulged, not in pain, but in sheer, incomprehensible terror. His body was unharmed, but his soul was being scoured. Every memory, every triumph, every fear screamed at once. His limbs locked. His divine light guttered and died. "Im... possible..." he rasped, his body a prison his soul could no longer operate. "My... body..."
"Your body is fine," Hades said, his voice soft as a headstone's whisper. "Your soul isn't."
'Gleam of Nightmare.'
Hades's hand glowed with a dark green light as he covered Atlas's face. "NO..." The Titan's consciousness shattered before his body did. He collapsed, frozen in place, eyes open but empty, caught between reality and dream.
As silence fell, the mountain groaned beneath the weight of the aftermath. Even the stars seemed to dim.
From the corner of the field, Iapetus staggered up. He used his mortality-fused teeth to cut the shadow bind. Dragging his wounded body, he picked up his broken blade. He poured every last ounce of his divine energy, fused with mortality essence, into the blade. It gleamed with a dark light.
"AAAAAAA!!!"
Iapetus charged at Hades with all his remaining strength.But the blade stopped an inch from Hades's eye. Iapetus gritted his teeth, forcing the blade forward, but it refused to move.
Hades grabbed the blade. A golden crown burning with twilight flame manifested above his head. Hades's face was cold. "Iapetus, you wield mortality as a weapon," he said, his voice the quiet of a tomb. "But you forget who holds its keys."
Iapetus's hand trembled. His eyes widened in realization, and he murmured, "Under...world." Hades simply said one word: "Sleep."
Iapetus lost consciousness and fell like a puppet with its strings cut.
As the last Titan fell, a profound silence descended upon the mountaintop, broken only by the groan of settling stone and the whisper of the wind through the shattered battlefield. Hades sat on a jagged outcrop of rock, Helkarion resting across his knees. He didn't look at the fallen Titans.
His gaze was tilted upward, fixed on the vast, swirling black sphere of Hecate's Eternal Night, where flashes of furious gold and solar white pulsed against the inner walls like a captured star.