"So," Aria said, standing in the middle of Hades' chambers again. "How exactly does one prepare for a soul-binding ritual?"
Hades and Cerberus exchanged a look.
"Carefully," Hades said.
"Thoroughly," Cerberus added with a grin.
"You two are absolutely no help."
It was late—or whatever passed for late in a realm without a sun. Aria was exhausted but wired, her mind racing with everything that had happened. The council's test. The visions. The revelation about the Triad Ritual.
Five days to decide if she trusted them enough to merge souls.
Five days to fall completely in love with two halves of the same being.
No pressure.
"The ritual requires three things," Hades said, moving to pour wine from a decanter that definitely wasn't there before. "Mental synchronization. Emotional vulnerability. And physical connection."
He handed her a glass. Their fingers brushed, and that now-familiar electricity sparked.
"Mental synchronization means we need to understand how each of us thinks," he continued. "Our fears, our desires, our patterns. We need to anticipate each other."
"Emotional vulnerability means no walls," Cerberus added. He'd shifted back to human form, sprawling on the massive bed like he owned it. "No hiding. No pretending we're not scared or desperate or completely out of our depth."
"And physical connection?" Aria asked, then immediately regretted it when both men smiled.
"Means exactly what you think it means," Cerberus said.
Heat flooded her face. "We are not—I'm not—that's not happening in five days!"
"Why not?" Cerberus sat up, his burning eyes fixed on her. "We've already kissed. Already touched. Already felt what it's like to want each other. What's the difference?"
"The difference is consent, boundaries, and the fact that I've known you for less than a week!"
"You've known us for centuries," Hades said quietly.
Aria turned to stare at him. "What?"
He set down his wine glass. "The visions the council saw. They didn't show us, but I felt them. Through the connection." He moved closer. "You're not just some random thief who stumbled into my realm, Aria. You're the reincarnation of something older. Someone the Heart has been waiting for."
"You think I'm Lyssa."
"No." His answer was immediate. "You're not her. You're you. But your soul..." He reached out, his hand hovering over her heart. "Your soul remembers. That's why the Heart chose you. Why it fused so perfectly. Why we feel like we've known you forever."
Aria's hand came up to cover his. "That's insane."
"This entire situation is insane," Cerberus pointed out. "Might as well accept the metaphysical part too."
She wanted to argue. Wanted to deny it. But deep down, she knew they were right. From the moment she'd fallen into Hell, from the first time she'd seen Hades, she'd felt recognition. Like coming home to a place she'd never been.
"So what do we do?" she asked. "How do we... prepare?"
"Tonight," Hades said, "we start with trust."
"This is your idea of building trust?" Aria asked, staring at the three chairs arranged in a circle.
"The ritual will strip away every defense," Hades explained. "Every wall, every lie, every secret. If we go in with things hidden, those secrets will tear us apart from the inside."
"So we sit in chairs and... what? Confess our deepest darkest fears?"
"Essentially, yes."
Aria sat down. "This is like the world's worst therapy session."
Cerberus dropped into the chair beside her. "I'll go first." He leaned back, casual. "My deepest fear is disappearing. Ceasing to exist. When we merge, what if I'm not strong enough? What if I just... fade away, and only Hades remains?"
The confession was delivered lightly, but Aria heard the genuine terror underneath.
"You won't disappear," she said immediately.
"You don't know that."
"Yes, I do." She reached over, taking his hand. "Because I won't let you. I need both of you. The cold and the fire. The logic and the passion. If either of you fades, the whole thing falls apart."
Cerberus stared at their joined hands. "You really mean that."
"Yes."
He lifted her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles gently. "Your turn."
Aria took a breath. "My deepest fear is that I'm not enough. That the Heart chose wrong. That when you two merge and realize you don't need me anymore, you'll..." She couldn't finish.
"Leave you?" Hades' voice was soft. "Aria, look at me."
She did.
"I've ruled Hell for millennia without needing anyone. I could have stayed frozen forever, perfectly content in my isolation. But the moment you fell into my realm, the moment I saw you..." He moved his chair closer. "I knew. Something in my soul recognized something in yours. And I haven't been able to think about anything else since."
"That could be the Heart's influence—"
"It's not." His silver eyes burned with intensity. "The Heart amplifies what's already there. It doesn't create feelings from nothing. What I feel for you—what we feel for you—is real. Terrifying and real."
Aria's breath caught.
"My turn," Hades said. He was quiet for a moment, and when he spoke, his voice was raw. "My deepest fear is losing control. Becoming the monster I was before the split. When Cerberus and I merge, when I let myself feel everything again... what if I can't handle it? What if the grief and rage and thousand years of suppressed emotion just... breaks me?"
"Then we'll put you back together," Aria said firmly. "That's what this is, right? The three of us holding each other up. Being strong where the others are weak."
"She's right," Cerberus said. "You're not alone anymore, brother. Neither of us are."
The word brother hung in the air—strange but somehow right. Two halves acknowledging each other not as enemies, but as parts of a whole.
Hades reached out, and Cerberus took his hand without hesitation.
Then Hades extended his other hand to Aria.
She took it.
The moment all three of them connected, power sparked. Silver light danced between their joined hands, warm and alive.
"This," Hades breathed. "This is what the ritual will feel like. Magnified a thousand times."
"Can you feel it?" Cerberus asked Aria. "Can you feel us?"
She closed her eyes and concentrated.
Yes. She could feel them. Hades' cold control warring with desperate need. Cerberus' wild passion anchored by fierce loyalty. And underneath it all, a current of something deeper. Something that felt like—
"Love," she whispered.
The light flared brighter.
"Too fast," Hades said, breaking the connection. The light died immediately. "We're not ready for that depth yet."
"But we will be," Aria said. "In five days."
"In five days," they both agreed.
Later, when exhaustion finally pulled Aria under, she fell asleep in Hades' bed with Cerberus on one side and Hades on the other. Both fully clothed. Both carefully maintaining distance despite the magnetic pull between them.
She dreamed.
In the dream, she stood in a white room. Infinite and empty.
A woman appeared across from her. She looked like Aria but wasn't—older, sadder, with eyes that had seen too much.
"You're her," Aria breathed. "Lyssa."
"I'm an echo," the woman corrected. "A memory caught in the Heart. But yes, I was Lyssa once."
"Why are you here?"
"To warn you." Lyssa moved closer. "The ritual will work. You'll merge successfully. But there's a cost you don't see yet."
"What cost?"
"The one watching. The one waiting." Lyssa's form started to flicker. "He knows what you're planning. And he's going to use it against you."
"Who? Erebus?"
"Older than Erebus. Darker than Erebus." The room started to crack, light bleeding through. "He's been waiting for a vessel strong enough to survive what comes next. And you, Aria Vale..." Lyssa smiled sadly. "You're exactly what he's been waiting for."
"Wait—what does that mean? What comes next?"
But Lyssa was already fading.
"Trust them," she said. "Trust yourself. And when the moment comes..." Her voice echoed as she disappeared. "Choose love over power. Always choose love."
Aria woke gasping.
Both Hades and Cerberus sat up immediately.
"What's wrong?" Cerberus demanded.
"Dream. I had a dream. Lyssa—she was there. She warned me about—" Aria's blood ran cold. "Someone's watching us. Someone worse than Azrael. Waiting for us to complete the ritual."
Hades' expression went hard. "Erebus."
"She said older than Erebus."
Silence.
Then Cerberus spoke, his voice tight with old fear: "Chaos."
"That's impossible," Hades said. "Chaos was bound eons ago. Sealed away by the first gods. It can't—"
"Can't what?" Aria demanded. "Can't escape? Can't come back? Everything else impossible has happened this week!"
Hades stood, pacing. His mind clearly racing. "If Chaos is awakening, if it's been waiting for a vessel powerful enough..." He stopped. "The Heart. It wants the Heart. And by extension, you."
"So what do we do?"
"We accelerate the timeline," Hades said grimly. "We don't wait five days. We do the ritual now. Tomorrow night."
"That's insane!" Aria stood. "We're not ready—"
"We'll never be ready." Hades gripped her shoulders. "But if Chaos is stirring, we need to be bound before it makes its move. A triad is stronger than three individuals. Strong enough to fight what's coming."
"Or strong enough to give Chaos exactly what it wants," Cerberus said quietly. "Three souls bound together, all that power in one place. It's either our salvation or Chaos' perfect weapon."
Aria looked between them. At the fear and determination in their eyes.
"Then we make sure it's salvation," she said. "Tomorrow night. We do the ritual. And we pray to whatever gods are listening that we don't destroy everything in the process."
Hades pulled her close, his forehead resting against hers. "Together."
"Together," she agreed.
Cerberus wrapped around them both, creating a circle of three.
Outside, thunder rolled across the underworld sky.
And in the deepest, darkest pit of Hell, something laughed.
Chaos was coming.
And it was very, very hungry.