The Sixth Reincarnation.
In the depths of Hades, on a secluded terrace rarely trodden by anyone, lay the slowly flowing tributaries of the River Styx at their feet, and above them, the eternal dome of the Underworld, dotted with faint specks of soul-light.
No servants, no prying eyes, only absolute silence.
Hades turned his back to the entrance and looked down at the ink-black river below. His figure stood tall in the dim light, but carried an indescribable weight.
Footsteps sounded behind him, soft and familiar.
"You're here, Metis." He did not turn around.
Metis approached and stood beside him, her eyes shimmering with the light of wisdom.
"You rarely summon me so formally, Hades. What is it? You even dismissed Thanatos."
Hades was silent for a moment, as if choosing his words and gathering courage.
Finally, he slowly turned, his violet eyes looking directly at Metis. In them was no longer the cold majesty that usually governed the Underworld, but a bottomless weariness and... clarity.
"Metis," he said quietly.
"Do you believe... that the world we live in is real? More precisely, is it... the only one?"
Metis frowned slightly, and her instinct for wisdom allowed her to instantly grasp the unusual meaning of Hades's words.
"Real? The only one? Hades, what are you talking about?"
She gently raised her hand, her fingertips as if trying to touch Hades's furrowed brow, but stopping in mid-air.
"Real? The only one?" she repeated, her voice calm and deep like the waters of the Styx.
In the end, her fingertips did not descend, but slowly withdrew and clasped before her, her eyes still firmly fixed on Hades's.
She did not show shock, did not ask questions, but in those eyes, filled with infinite wisdom, a flash of clarity appeared, as if Hades's question was not shocking, but had finally struck an echo wall that had long been silent in her heart.
"Hades," her voice became softer, almost dissolving into the darkness of the Underworld.
"Since I was born and accepted the authority of wisdom, I have known that everything in this world operates according to patterns, and the chain of cause and effect is intertwined, seeming chaotic but actually containing a certain... overly strict logic."
She tilted her head slightly and looked at the flowing Styx below.
"Like the water of the Styx, it flows eternally, carrying oaths, cleansing the souls of the dead, and never changing. But have you ever wondered why it must be so? Why have its rules been... perfect and fixed since the beginning of the world?"
Her gaze met Hades's face again, with a sharpness that pierced through appearances.
"I have observed the trajectories of the stars, calculated the spinning threads of fate, and even analyzed the composition of my own divinity. Everything is too 'correct', and that is... unsettling. It's as if there is an invisible hand, all parameters already set, and we are merely characters following a predetermined script."
She took half a step forward, approaching Hades, her voice carrying a cold, almost cruel calmness:
"Tell me, Hades. What is this 'unreal' you suspect, this 'not the only one'? Is it an illusion, like a reflection in water? Or... a cycle that starts over?"
The last four words she bit down on slightly, but like a key, they struck the heavy lock in Hades's heart.
Hades's pupils constricted slightly.
He had not expected Metis to be unaware—she had already seen the existence of shadows in the abyss of wisdom. She had even touched the edge of the 'cycle'.
He took a deep breath, and the cold air of the Underworld filled his lungs, bringing a hint of resolute clarity.
"Worse, Metis." His voice was hoarse, worn.
"Not a reflection, not a simple repetition. Instead... a cage. A vast, intricate, constantly resetting cage. We... perhaps have had countless similar conversations by this Stygian river. And in every ending..."
He stopped and did not continue... but the weight in his eyes spoke for itself.
Metis listened quietly, expressionless, only in the depths of her eyes... After a long time, she spoke slowly:
"So, those fragments of memory that sometimes appear, seemingly not belonging to the moment, are not illusions? So, the deep weariness you sometimes show, inconsistent with the current situation, is also related to this? So, our clarity at this moment... Or perhaps, the clarity you are trying to convey to me, is itself part of this 'cage'?"
Her questions were sharper and more direct.
Hades was silent, which was an admission.
The River Styx flowed silently below, reflecting the faint light of Hades's dome, like a cold silver ribbon embedded in the darkness.
A longer silence fell on the terrace, and only the silent, churning thoughts between them clashed violently.
In the end, Metis slightly closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, there was a calm and resolute determination within.
"Tell me everything, Hades."
Her voice was undeniable. "No matter how desperate the truth, wisdom should not be blinded by false tranquility. If it is a cage, then knowing the full picture of the cage is the first step to finding the key."
"And this time," she looked at him, her eyes shining with a light similar to his, one that refused to yield to fate,
"maybe it will be different."
Hades looked at her, at the goddess of wisdom who had always been by his side in the endless circle of possibilities. Beneath her calm exterior, he saw a will of the same origin as his own, one that refused to submit.
He slowly nodded.
"Alright."
Perhaps this was the first time, perhaps it had been countless times.
He, to his goddess of wisdom, to his queen, revealed his suspicions and... this mad and desperate plan.
"We will have no savior from the heavens, Metis."
Hades's voice was tired but firm, as if burning the last star.
"We only have our own 'renegade gods'."
He outlined the path to her: using himself as a vessel, accumulating 'opportunity' through countless reincarnations, until he could bear and transform the 'constant' of the entire world, twisting the cyclical power of 'Moebius' into the cornerstone for propelling the world forward.
And the price... as the 'failure', he would forever lose his 'self' and become the embodiment of merciless laws, sustaining the functioning of the new world.
Metis, the embodiment of wisdom, already knew everything at this moment...
She had seen the path of reincarnation and knew that in the vast majority of cycles, Hades would ultimately embark on this lonely path of sacrifice.
She could accept this, because in almost all branches of fate, no matter how agonizing the process, she would eventually unite with Hades and become each other's only one.
This 'destined' companionship had once been her confidence to silently observe and occasionally nudge herself in countless reincarnations—those timely reminders, those seemingly casual aids—all of it was to ensure that the trajectory of this connection did not change.
But when Hades himself voiced his plan to 'transcend the world' and described the path that would come at the cost of complete self-annihilation, a chill pierced her heart, far more piercing than the truth of reincarnation itself.
She quietly looked at Hades, looking at the burning resolve and deep weariness in his violet eyes.
This was not just Hades's mad plan; it was the ultimate and most complete sacrifice a soul was willing to make after countless futile attempts.
Wisdom raced frantically in her mind, countless possibilities sparking and dying out like sparks.
'Destined'...
This word now seemed so ironic and repulsive.
She could accept being with him in samsara, even if the companionship itself was part of the cycle.
But she could not accept that the end of this companionship was losing him forever—losing the Hades who had an independent will, who would be weary, who would struggle and reveal his innermost secrets on the banks of the Styx.
A merciless 'law', becoming the cornerstone of the world, would no longer be her Hades.