One of the escorts placed two fingers to his lips and blew a long, piercing whistle that echoed through the cavern.
Neigh!!
From the mists emerged a grand obsidian chariot embossed with intricate golden ornaments, pulled by two powerful spectral horses whose forms shimmered with ethereal light. As Poseidon stepped forward, his hand moved almost instinctively to caress the nearest horse's flank.
"Beautiful creatures," he murmured, genuine appreciation in his voice.
The escort soldier nodded proudly. "Spectral horses, my lord. A unique breed of the Underworld."
Poseidon's lips curved in a slight smile. "Hmm… spectral horses—" he began, but Zeus shoved past him.
"Stop caressing animals. We are not here on tour Poseidon! Board quickly!" Zeus snapped, his patience worn thin.
Poseidon's brow furrowed, his eyes narrowing slightly at the brusque treatment. With clear displeasure, he boarded the chariot. The escort took the reins, giving them a light wipe.
Neigh!!
The spectral horses surged forward, pulling the chariot with impossible speed. After a few minutes, a grand obsidian castle came into view, its spires piercing the subterranean sky. Golden ornaments adorned every surface, and towering pillars supported structures that defied mortal architecture. The chariot passed through massive gates and stopped at the castle's main entrance, where servants and soldiers stood aligned in perfect formation.
A man in immaculate white gloves stepped forward, bowing with precise grace. "Welcome, Lord Zeus, Lord Poseidon, Lord Prometheus, Lady Metis. I am Sebastian. Please, follow me."
As they walked through corridors adorned with breathtaking artistry, Zeus's gaze swept over the majestic decorations, his lips curling in disdain. "We bleed on battlefields while our brother wallows in luxury," he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for Sebastian to hear. 'This should all be mine. I'm the one who deserves this glory, not him.'
Ahead of them, Sebastian's spine straightened almost imperceptibly. His knuckles, visible beneath the white gloves, turned bone-white where he held his hands clasped behind his back. He took a slow, silent breath, the only sign of the insult simmering beneath his impeccable facade.
Prometheus's analytical eyes missed nothing. He watched Sebastian's controlled reaction, then let his gaze sweep the hall, noting the soldiers' alert stillness, their quiet pride. 'This was no prison of a tyrant, but a kingdom built on genuine loyalty.' He glanced at Zeus and Poseidon's scowling faces and allowed himself a thin, private smile. 'The fools were about to learn the difference between power granted by fear, and power earned by fealty.'
They stopped before massive golden doors flanked by fully armed soldiers. Sebastian approached the head guard. "These are gods from Olympus. They seek an audience with the crown."
The guard nodded, pulling out a scroll and checking their names against a list. After a moment, he raised a hand in signal. The other soldiers began opening the immense doors, revealing the grand throne hall.
The sight was breathtaking. Soldiers and servants stood aligned along a red carpet that led to a majestic staircase. At the base of the stairs stood Druvak and Amazel, while at the top, on an elevated platform, sat two grand obsidian thrones. In one of them sat Hecate, a silver crown resting on her head, Nixi curled peacefully on her lap.
Her sharp purple gaze swept over them as they entered. "Welcome, Lord Zeus, Lord Poseidon, to the Underworld."
The way she looked down from her elevated position felt like a deliberate provocation. Zeus stepped forward, his patience gone. "Where is Hades?"
"He is occupied with important matters," Hecate replied calmly. "You may discuss your business with me."
This was the final straw. Zeus's hands clenched into fists, his jaw tightening until it looked ready to crack. "Where in the hell is Hades? Hiding behind his wife's skirts?"
Poseidon barked a harsh laugh. "Get off his chair, witch. Go find your master. We're not here to talk to his keeper. We need a god, not a ghost and his pet."
Zeus's voice turned venomously cold. "Save your breath. He's not coming. He's a coward. He swore an oath to fight, and now he's broken it. He'd rather rot down here with the dead and a Titan whor—"
A bestial roar cut him off as Nixi transformed and lunged. Guards surged forward as their blade about to touch their flesh, roof gleaming with thousands of spells to fall. Hectate command surge "Stop."
Everyone take step back, all the spells disappear but still killing intent visibile in their eyes. But this end not here and there world turned inside out.
An immense, soul-crushing pressure descended, smothering the throne room. The castle itself groaned. It was a weight that simply was, forcing the four Olympians to their knees, grinding their faces into the stone.
"You fools!" Prometheus gasped out, his voice strained against the pressure. "You couldn't hold your tongues for five minutes? You've just insulted the rulers in their own domain! Are you trying to get us all erased from existence?"
Zeus and Poseidon struggled, muscles straining against the unmovable force, a desperate, pathetic sight.
Then, he was there. Hades strode through the blown-open doors, his footsteps the only sound. He climbed the dais without a glance at them and took his throne.
"You maggots!" his voice was deceptively quiet, but it vibrated in their bones. "You dare to insult my wife in my realm." He flicked his wrist. The shadows at their feet erupted into a spear of twilight flame that screamed toward their hearts.
A hand, cool and steady, closed over Hades' wrist. Hecate's touch was a silent command. "Dear, wait," she murmured, leaning closer so only he could hear.
Hades' eyes burned with cold fire. "They insulted you. They should be unmade." Hectate hold his hand and nod. Hades narrow his eyes "Do you still want to save them?"
Hecate's eyes twinkled with subtle cunning as she gave a barely perceptible wink. "Yes. They are corner to death, because of our absence. Even after they can't able to meet you. There anger is genuine."
Hades glared at the groveling Olympians, then gave a sharp nod. The pressure vanished, leaving them gasping on the floor.
"Today, you live because of my wife's mercy," Hades said, each word dripping with contempt. "It would be wise for you to leave."
As Zeus rose, fury contorting his features, Metis grabbed his arm, her grip like iron. Her stern look silenced his protest. She stepped forward and bowed deeply.
"I beg forgiveness for my husband's words, Lord Hades, Lady Hecate." Her voice remained steady despite the tension. "But our need is desperate. Our army has been wiped out. We come seeking support—weapons from your forges, and treatment for Zeus's wounds."
Hades leaned back, his expression unreadable. "And why should the Underworld help those who spit upon its rulers?"
"Because the war affects us all," Metis countered. "And your absence has been noted where it's needed most."
A humorless smile touched Hades' lips. "I despise allies who use war to eliminate their own allies for personal gains."
Cold sweat trickled down Metis's temples. She swallowed hard, but no words came.
'How?…how did he know?'
Prometheus stepped forward. "Then think of your mother, Lord Hades. When Cronus awakens, where do you think his rage will fall first? Lady Rhea was the one who start all this."
Hades' hand tightened on the armrest, his knuckles white. Hecate placed her warm hand over his.
"I appreciate your bravery in using my mother as leverage," Hades said through gritted teeth.
"I merely state facts," Prometheus replied evenly.
"Very well." Hades' smirk returned. "I will provide support and weapons, but I will not revive your army—that would unravel the world's foundation. And everything has its price."
Prometheus exchange glance with Metis. 'Game begins.' Metis nodded. "Name your conditions."
"The spoils of war belong to the victor. The Underworld chooses first from all artifacts, souls, and titan-essences. What remains, Olympus may squabble over."
Prometheus glanced at Metis, then answered before anyone could object. "Accepted."
"Second," Hades continued, "my forges will not be plundered for your war. You will provide all materials used in the weaponry. Not a single speck of Underworld dust will be spent."
"Understood," Metis said.
"Third," Hades' voice grew sharper, "from this moment, any god or diety associate with Underworld will not take any order from upper realm."
"We accept it," Zeus spat, too proud to see the trap. "I have no desire to rule over this gloomy pit and this chthonic gods."
Metis paled. "Zeus, no—!"
Prometheus closed his eyes in despair. 'The fool has legally divided the cosmos forever.'
Hades allowed a cold, satisfied smile to touch his lips. "Good."
But Metis couldn't let it stand. She grabbed Zeus's arm, her voice dropping to an urgent whisper. "Do you even understand what you just agreed to?"
Zeus glared at her, his pride stung. "What? They're just chthonic deities. I wouldn't want to order them around anyway."
"This isn't about giving orders to underworld gods!" Metis's voice trembled with frustration. "By accepting this, you've declared that no future Celestial King will ever hold absolute authority! You've fractured the very concept of universal sovereignty! No ruler will ever be able to truly call themselves King of All Gods again!"
Zeus's eyes widened as the implications finally dawned on him. The color drained from his face. "I... I didn't mean—"
Prometheus stepped closer, his voice low and grim. "Deity's word, once given, cannot be taken back. Even a casual agreement carries weight in the cosmic balance. You've just legitimized a permanent schism in divine authority."
Hades watched the exchange with evident satisfaction. "The condition stands," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Shall we continue?"
Hades smiled coldly. "Fourth, you will apologize to my Queen. Not a diplomatic formality. A genuine, kneeling apology for the filth you spewed in her hall."
"Never!" Zeus roared, his face flushing with renewed fury. "I would rather—"
"Zeus!" Metis's voice cut through his rage like a knife. She grabbed his arm, her nails digging into his flesh. "Look around you! We are on our knees in the heart of their power! Your pride will get us all killed!"
Prometheus moved to Zeus's other side, his voice low and urgent. "She is right. This is not a battle of strength, but of survival. Swallow your pride, or we all perish here. Is your ego worth our annihilation?"
Poseidon, who had remained silent, finally spoke through gritted teeth. "He's right, brother. We've lost this round." He turned to Hades, his body stiff with humiliation. "What exactly would satisfy this... condition?"
Hades's eyes glinted. "You will kneel. You will state clearly what you apologize for. And you will ask for her forgiveness. The sincerity... we will judge."
The silence stretched as Zeus and Poseidon stood frozen, the weight of their humiliation pressing down on them. Finally, with movements that seemed to cost them physical pain, they slowly lowered themselves to one knee.
Zeus's voice was gravel, each word dragged from the depths of his being. "I... apologize for my words. For calling you... what I called you." He couldn't even bring himself to repeat the insults. "It was... unbefitting."
Poseidon kept his gaze fixed on the floor. "I retract my words. Calling you a... 'witch' and a 'pet' was... wrong."
Hecate watched them, her expression unreadable. She didn't smile in triumph, nor did she gloat. She simply nodded once, a queen accepting what was owed. "Your apology is noted."
"Fifth," Hades said, "as payment for healing Zeus's wounds, one upper-realm god will serve in my court. You may choose whom to send. But know this—I can regenerate your arm, but it will be weaker. I advise a prosthetic instead."
A hostage,' Metis realized instantly, her mind racing. 'He's asking for a hostage disguised as a servant. But by making us choose who to send, he forces us to make the decision ourselves - this will cause chaos and strife among our ranks no matter who we pick.'
Hades continued, "But know this—I can regenerate your arm, but it will be weaker than before. I advise a prosthetic instead."
'Clever,' Prometheus thought, maintaining his blank expression while his mind worked furiously. 'He offers healing but makes the natural option undesirable. Either Zeus accepts a permanent weakness, or he takes a prosthetic that will forever remind him of this humiliation. And the hostage ensures our continued compliance long after this war ends.'
Metis tried one last appeal, playing the family card. "Lord Hades, he is your brother, shouldn't you treat him fre—"
"If he come to me as brother and behave like brother. Then even this all condition are not implemented" Hades cut her off. "My terms are not negotiable. Answer."
'He's cornered us perfectly,' Metis thought in despair. 'We need the healing, we need the weapons, and we have no leverage. Every option leads to his victory.'
Zeus's lip curled in disgust. "A prosthetic arm," he spat, choosing pride over potential weakness.
Hades raised his hand. A dark haze seeped from Zeus's body, his wounds knitting closed, his divine regeneration restored. But the severed arm remained a stump - a permanent reminder of his defeat and the price of his arrogance.
'And so the trap is set,' Prometheus observed silently, a grudging respect growing for Hades' strategic mind. 'He gets his hostage, Zeus bears a permanent mark of this encounter, and we're left to tear ourselves apart deciding who to sacrifice. Masterful.'
"Our final condition," Hades announced. "After the war, whoever becomes Celestial King will inscribe these terms upon the Stele of Code, making them eternal law."
Metis bit her lip, tasting blood. 'This closes all paths to undo what we've agreed. We're completely in his hands.' She bowed her head. "We... accept."
Hades snapped his fingers, the sound echoing like a sealing fate. "The accord is struck. Rest now. Your weapons creation will begin tomorrow. Court is adjourned."