Hades, Hecate, and Sebastian—who carries two ornate cases—arrive in Elysium. It is a serene land of ethereal dawn, where gentle golden light flows over endless meadows and crystal rivers. The air carries no sorrow, only a quiet melody, and time drifts like a soft breeze. This is the paradise reserved for the worthy, a sanctuary governed by harmony.
The four goddesses of Elysium await them: Elpis, Eleos, Minthe, and Euphrosyne. Their smiles are as gentle as the dawn-light, and they move with a grace that speaks of inherent kindness. "Welcome, Lord Hades, Queen Hecate, to the land of peace," they say, bowing in unison.
Hades and Hecate acknowledge them with a nod. "Lead the way," Hecate orders.
Eleos, the eldest, steps forward. "The heart of the meadow offers the purest soil, my Lord," she says, guiding them to a perfectly clear expanse. The others follow in a silent, respectful procession.
At the center, Hades crouches, a movement that still seems to cost him effort. He scoops a handful of the rich, dark soil, channeling a faint pulse of his divine energy into it. The earth responds, shimmering with a faint, acknowledging light. "This is the place," he says, his voice low. Using his mineral divinity, he carefully digs a small pit. "Sebastian."
"Yes, my lord." The butler steps forward, placing the cases gently on the ground. He opens the golden, ambrosia-lined case, presenting it to Hades.
Inside, resting on a bed of velvet, lies a single seed, glowing with a golden-green light. Hades picks it up with reverence, sending another wave of his energy into it. The seed gleams with a sudden, vibrant emerald radiance. He carefully places it in the center of the pit.
Sebastian opens the second case, producing a pouch. Hades takes it and covers the seed with a fine, golden dust that glimmers with the captured essence of Hyperion's sun. Next, Sebastian hands him a glass bottle filled with a viscous, pearlescent blue liquid. "Moonlight dew, my lord."
Hades accepts it, tilting the bottle with immense care. Each drop falls like a heavy blue pearl, sinking into the soil.
Finally, Sebastian presents two small bottles. "The obsidian dragon's blood, to root it in the earth's deep power," he says, indicating the dark reddish-black one, "and the sky dragon's blood, to let its essence reach for the heavens."
Hades nods, pouring each one slowly and deliberately onto the sacred site. He covers the pit with the enchanted soil, then takes a steadying breath and raises his hand, summoning the telltale flicker of the Twilight Flame.
Suddenly, Hecate's hand darts out, her fingers clamping around his wrist with surprising strength. "I will not let you do this," she says, her voice low and unyielding, her eyes wide with fear, not anger.
Hades' eyebrows raise in protest. "But this is necessar—"
"Necessary? To use your life force to enhance its growth when you have so little left?" she interrupts, her voice rising with scolding desperation. "It's ridiculous!"
"If I wish to receive, I must first provide," he explains, his tone weary. "The amount is negligible. A glass of water from a pond."
"Then I will give my portion," Hecate asserts, her gaze locking with his, leaving no room for argument.
"But—"
"No 'buts'. Agree, or we leave this seed dormant."
Hades massages his temple, a wave of exhaustion and resignation washing over him. He finally sighs. "Okay. I agree."
Hecate releases his wrist, her expression softening with relief. She summons her own Twilight Flame, and a visible wave of energy, a portion of her own life force, flows from her palm into the earth. The soil immediately begins to gleam with a brilliant emerald radiance.
A small sprout punches through the surface, growing with miraculous speed. In mere seconds, it transforms from a juvenile shoot into a tall, majestic plant, its emerald leaves rising to par Hades' own height.
Hades turns to the four goddesses. "Sebastian will provide you with the dragon's blood daily. You must administer it, one drop at a time, with utmost care."
All four bow deeply. "We will, Lord Hades."
As Hades and Hecate turn to leave, he pauses, looking back at the shimmering plant and its guardians. "Guard this with your lives," he says, his voice grave. "The future of the Underworld may well depend on it."
Eleos meets his gaze, her expression one of solemn duty. "Do not worry, Lord Hades. We will protect it more dearly than our own lives."
With a final nod, Hades and Hecate depart, the weight of their hope left behind in the peaceful fields of Elysium.
---
Hades and Hecate arrived in the throne room. A heavy silence hung in the air as all the dukes and deities of the Underworld present bowed deeply. Their steps echoed as they walked to the grand obsidian thrones and sat, the weight of the realm settling upon them. Nixi leaped from a shadowy perch and curled into a tight ball on Hecate's lap, her usual playfulness gone.
Julie and Druvak stepped forward and knelt, their faces cast down towards the floor. The flame in Druvak's skull burned low and dim.
"Report," Hades commanded, his voice flat.
Julie rose first. She handed a scroll to Sebastian, who passed it to his king. Hades unrolled it, his eyes scanning the contents.
"My Lord," Julie began, her voice tight. "We lost almost 40% of our army." She gulped, her fists clenching at her sides until her knuckles were white. "We lost Commanders… Ars, Geo, and Amar." Her voice cracked on Amar's name—the one who always brought her flowers from the Elysian fields. "And we also lost… the divine beast Panda, Sloth, and several other minor deities."
Druvak's shoulders slumped as if bearing the weight of the sky. At the sound of his students' names, his skeletal hands began to tremble, memories of their bright, determined faces flashing before his eyes. A river of sorrow was trapped inside his skeletal frame, with no physical outlet but the tremors in his hands.
"Meow…" Nixi let out a plaintive cry, her ears and tail drooping as she heard the names of her playful friends. Nixi buried her face against Hecate's robes, her tiny body trembling as she whimpered. Hecate gently stroked her head, her own heart aching.
Hades closed the scroll and massaged the bridge of his nose, a wave of exhaustion and sorrow threatening to overwhelm him. "Julie," he ordered, his voice regaining its steadiness through sheer force of will. "Arrange a state funeral. Erect a black marble stele in the central plaza. The names of every soul who fell in battle will be inscribed upon it in letters of gold."
He then conjured a scroll and pen, writing a swift decree. He handed it to Sebastian, who passed it to Julie. "Give this to Lithe. She is to personally oversee their reincarnations, ensuring they find a better next life. And their families will receive a subsidiary from the royal treasury for a century."
Julie saluted, her arm shaking slightly. "As you wish, my lord."
Hades stood, his presence filling the hall. "The Rejudgement of Cronus and his allies will be held after the funeral. Until then, I suspend all soul judgements and non-essential duties." His voice echoed with finality. "Court is adjourned."
With that, he and Hecate departed, the silent grief of the hall following them out.
---
A Few Days Later
The central plaza was a sea of solemn faces. The new black marble stele towered in the center, and the crowd shifted quietly, some searching for a name with proud sorrow, others weeping openly as they found it. The air was thick with the scent of incense and the salt of silent tears.
Hades' gaze was fixed on the funeral field, where thousands of white-shrouded forms lay in neat, heartbreaking rows. A cold, sharp weight settled in his chest, and his knuckles turned white as he clenched the marble balustrade. "This... all of this... is because of my foolish ethics and stubbornes" he whispered, the words tasting like ash.
Hecate's fingers laced through his, her grip firm and anchoring. "No. It is not your fault."
He shook his head, refusing to be comforted. "If I had not demanded the Rejudgement, they would be alive. I led with my heart, not my head. I failed them as their king."
"You did not fail," Hecate insisted, her voice low and intense. "You made this decision because it was right. Had you not acted, Zeus's tyranny would have reached its peak. The Underworld would have remained unacknowledged, disrespected—its sovereignty ignored."
She placed a hand over her heart.
"We may rule a separate realm, yet the Olympians still try to harass and oppress us in subtle, indirect ways. It is the king's duty to guard the dignity and ethics of his kingdom." Her eyes shone with conviction. "And you have done that with honor. Better than anyone before you." She turned his face towards her. "If you must carry this guilt, then let it fuel you. Build a future that makes their sacrifice worthy."
A faint spark of purpose reignited in his eyes. He took a deep breath, straightening his back as he looked over his people.
Lithe and Julie approached and knelt. "The preparations are complete, Your Majesties."
Hades nodded. He released a faint pulse of divine energy that rippled through the plaza. Everyone fell silent, their attention fixed on their rulers. Hades stepped forward, his voice carrying across the gathered masses.
"Today, we stand together not as celebrating victory, but as a family grieving a price far greater than triumph. The soil beneath us has been defended by the courage of thousands who will never return home. Their uniforms are folded, their weapons silenced, but their bravery echoes louder than any war cry.
To the families who now carry an empty seat at the table, an unfinished conversation, a name that will forever be spoken with both pride and pain — we bow our heads to your sacrifice. Your sons, daughters, fathers, mothers, and loved ones did not fall in vain. They stood so that the rest of us may continue to stand free.
Let us remember them not only for how they died, but for how they lived — with honor, with loyalty, and with a love for this land strong enough to give everything for it. Their final breath has become the shield of our future.
May their souls find peace, and may we, the living, be worthy of the price they paid."
His speech echoed over the crowd, acknowledging the empty seats and the echoing bravery. As he finished, grieving mothers lifted their chins with a painful pride.
Hades and Hecate raised their hands high. Twilight flame erupted from their palms, shooting into the sky where they intertwined and burst into a vast, golden firework. It rained down thousands of gentle sparks that settled on the shrouded forms. The bodies began to burn with a warm, purifying light, transforming not into ash, but into thousands of golden wisps that rose into the air, a constellation of lost souls.
A fresh wave of sorrow broke over the crowd. Legs buckled. Shoulders shook with silent sobs as the physical forms of their loved ones vanished.
Lithe and Eridanus raised their hands in unison, guiding the river of golden souls with a gentle divine current towards the reincarnation well, where they dove in one by one, their light winking out as they began their next journey.
---
Under the shade of a distant oak tree, Druvak sat surrounded by empty bottles. The ghost of celebratory noise was a mockery. He brought a final bottle to his teeth and drained it, the liquid doing nothing to numb the hollow ache within. The image of his students—Ars, Amar, Geo—seemed to dance in the spilled drops on the ground.
"Immortality," he slurred to the uncaring tree, "is the worst curse disguised as a blessing." The bottle slipped from his numb fingers. He leaned his skull back against the rough bark, a gaping void where his voice should be. He tried to form a word, a name, a prayer, but nothing came out. He could only shut his eyes, and remember.