A scroll of black parchment, inscribed with glowing golden letters, appeared at the entrance to the temple in the darkest region of the Underworld. It floated of its own accord, drifting lazily through the shadowed halls as if guided by an unseen hand.
Nyx, reclining on a sofa of woven shadow-stuff, plucked it from the air without looking. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes with the back of her hand, stretched her arms with a soft, tired sigh, and broke the seal with a sharp nail.
As she read, her leisurely posture stiffened. Her dark brows, usually arched in serene detachment, drew together into a sharp line. She blinked, shook her head, and re-read the message, her lips moving soundlessly over the words. "What!?" she exclaimed, the scroll trembling in her hand.
Erebus materialized from the deeper shadows of the hall. "What happened?"
Wordlessly, Nyx thrust the scroll at him. Erebus took it, his red eyes scanning the text. His expression remained an impassive mask. "Hmm… why would they undertake such a troublesome endeavor?"
"You are skimming the surface and not looking at depths," Nyx snapped, rising to her feet. She began to pace, the shadows in the room lengthening and writhing with her agitation. "Think, husband. First, Zeus, in his newfound power, ordered Cronus and his allies to eternal torment. By holding a re-judgment, the Underworld doesn't just disagree—they openly rebel. Second, by placing their judgment above a Celestial King's decree, they claim a higher, ultimate authority." She stopped, turning a grave face to him, her eyes wide with foresight. "And third... to protect his fragile dignity, Zeus will have no choice. He will call upon every deity, every army, from every corner of the world. He will demand the Underworld be scoured from existence."
Erebus finally sank onto a sofa, the weight of her analysis seeming to press down on his shoulders. "Then we must stop them. Before this happens."
"No," Nyx said, her gaze turning distant and prophetic, seeing threads of fate invisible to him. "Let them proceed. If they win, they will forge a legend that will echo for all eternity, a testament that Underworld even go against whole world. If they lose..." A shadow of genuine pity crossed her ancient features. "Then a fate far more creative and terrible than Tartarus awaits them."
---
A woman in a white peplos, great golden wings beating rhythmically at her back, cut a swift path through the clouds. A trail of shimmering rainbows marked her passage. In her hand, she clutched a scroll of black parchment. She pushed her wings harder, diving toward the gleaming peak of Olympus as it came into view. She landed gracefully before the immense doors of the throne hall, smoothing her disheveled gown with a quick, nervous hand.
She glanced at the stoic guards, who immediately heaved the grand doors open.
Creeeak!
The sound echoed through the majestic hall. The floor was polished white marble, the walls adorned with sky-blue silk. Twelve magnificent seats were arranged in a semi-circle, eight of them occupied by Metis, Hera, Demeter, Hestia, Kratos, Leto, and Mnemosyne. At the center, upon a grander throne, sat Zeus, languidly eating ambrosia as two nymphs fanned him. Three seats sat conspicuously empty—those of Poseidon, Prometheus, and the arriving goddess, Iris herself.
Iris entered and fell to one knee, her chest heaving. Zeus noted her state. "What happened, Iris? You seem unwell."
"My lord," she panted, presenting the scroll. "A message has been circulated to all realms and kings of the world."
Zeus's eyes narrowed. "Read it."
Iris nodded, unrolling the scroll with trembling hands. Her voice, though clear, held a tremor. "To all the deities and rulers of the realm," she began. "This letter is to inform you that the Underworld will soon hold a re-judgment of the former Celestial King, Cronus, and his allies."
The golden goblet in Zeus's hand deformed with a screech of protesting metal. His prosthetic arm, a construct of bronze and contained lightning, slammed down on the arm of his throne with a deafening CRACK that shook the very foundations of Olympus.
"HADES!" Uncontrolled bolts of lightning arced from his body. The two nymphs flanking him had no time to scream; one moment they were fanning him, the next they were thrown against the far wall like discarded toys, their skin seared and smoking. Outside, the serene sky of Olympus instantly boiled into a vortex of black, vengeful clouds.
"KRATOS!" Zeus boomed, his voice the storm itself. "RAISE THE WAR BANNER! ERIS! DELIVER MY COMMAND TO EVERY KING, EVERY GENERAL—THE FULL FORCE OF ALL REALMS IS TO MARCH ON THE UNDERWORLD! ANNIHILATE THEIR DISOBEDIENCE!"
Kratos and Iris bowed sharply. "By your will, my lord!" They turned and sprinted from the hall.
Zeus stormed out, each footfall a peal of thunder that cracked the marble floor. The moment he was gone, Hestia rushed to the fallen nymphs, her hands glowing with gentle, healing light. She looked towards the gates through which her brother had vanished, her heart a cold, tight knot of fear. "What are you thinking Hades-Hectate?" she whispered.
---
Deep in the ocean's heart, within a luxurious chamber of mother-of-pearl and coral, Oceanus, Poseidon, and Nereus sat sharing a chalice of fine wine, their conversation light and leisurely. The peace was shattered as Orcanon, burst in, his gills flaring, clutching two scrolls—one black, one white.
He knelt, gasping for water. "My lords! Urgent messages! One from the Underworld, the other from the Celestial King!"
Nereus took the scrolls. His eyes, old and knowing, scanned the black one first, widening in shock. He then ripped open the white one, his face hardening as he read. "The Underworld intends to re-judge Cronus and his allies," he stated, his voice grim. "And Zeus commands all realms to attack the Underworld immediately."
Oceanus and Poseidon shot to their feet, all traces of drunkenness vanishing. "If Cronus is released, the world will be swallowed by chaos," Oceanus declared, his voice echoing in the sudden silence. "Poseidon, Nereus, you will march with our full army with all speed. This re-judgment must not happen. I will consult with Lord Pontus if further strength is needed."
Without a word, Poseidon and Nereus turned and swept from the room, their forms already shifting to a warlike aspect.
---
High in the celestial realm, within a grand palace carved from a single, massive star for the former seat of the Solar King, Hyperion. But now his children and his wife resided. Helios and Selene stood together in the throne room, the two scrolls laid out before them.
Helios's hands trembled as he read the black one, his sister's face mirroring his dawning hope. "There is a chance," he breathed, his voice thick with emotion. "A real chance Father could be freed." Their eyes lifted to the empty Solar Throne, a monument to their family's fall.
"A chance that will get you all killed," a sharp voice cut through their hope. Their mother, Thea, entered, her face lined with grief and fear.
"What are you saying, Mother?" Helios's voice rose, his solar aura flaring uncontrollably. Heat shimmered around him. "Do you not love him? Do you not wish he was here with us?" He drove his fist into a nearby pillar, shattering the star-stone into a cloud of glittering dust.
"Of course I do!" Thea cried, her own composure breaking. "But it is not possible! The Underworld cannot withstand the combined force of the world! Even if you stand with them, you will be crushed by the weight of the Celestial King's authority! You will be branded traitors!"
"THEN WHAT IS THE MEANING OF ALL THIS?" Helios roared, gesturing wildly at the palace, the armies beyond. "WHAT IS THE POINT OF THIS TITLE? THIS ARMY, IF I CANNOT USE IT TO SAVE MY OWN FATHER?!" In a fit of rage, he lifted a heavy side-throne and hurled it across the hall, where it shattered against the far wall.
Thea reached for him, but he shrugged her off. "PREPARE THE ARMY!" he shouted to his commanders, his voice echoing with a desperate, furious light. Selene, her face set with grim determination, fell into step beside him.
---
At the entrance to the Underworld, a legion of terrifying aspect assembled. Druvak sat astride a spectral horse,. Amazel rode a great dragon, leading a swarm of wyrms that darkened the void. Julie stood before the main force, she hold two obsidian blade with crimson lustre.
Charon's massive ship, the Black Pearl, drifted up, its skeleton crew clattering at their stations. All the Chthonic deities, river gods and the Dukes of the Underworld arrived with their personal legions, creating a sea of grim faces and polished armor.
Finally, Hades and Hectate arrived, riding upon the giant black panther, Nyx. The air fell silent.
Hades turned to face his army, his voice projecting not just sound, but a wave of absolute will. "TODAY, WE DO NOT MARCH TO BATTLE A SINGLE ARMY! TODAY, WE PREPARE TO FACE THE COMBINED FURY OF THE ENTIRE WORLD!"
He let his gaze sweep over them, meeting the eyes of soldiers, generals, and deities. "IF ANYONE HERE BELIEVES MY DECISION IS WRONG, IF YOU FEEL YOU SHOULD NOT BE HERE, YOU MAY LEAVE NOW. I SWEAR, NOT A SINGLE ONE WILL JUDGE YOU FOR IT!"
He waited. A heartbeat passed. Then another. Not one soldier shifted. Not one weapon was lowered. A fierce, defiant silence was their answer.
A proud, grim smile touched Hades's lips. "I AM HUMBLED TO HAVE SUCH LOYALTY. TO HAVE PEOPLE WHO WILL STAND WITH ME AT THE END OF ALL THINGS."
He raised his Helkarion, high. The weapon flared with violet energy. "I INTEND TO WRITE A NEW CHAPTER IN HISTORY! A CHAPTER OF DEFIANCE AND TRUE JUSTICE! WHO WILL WRITE IT WITH ME?!"
A roar erupted from the legion, a unified, earth-shattering shout that shook the very foundations of the void. "WE WILL!"
"THEN LET US SHOW THEM THE SPIRIT OF THE UNDERWORLD! LET THEM LEARN WHAT UNDERWORLD CAPABLE!"
"OOOOOOOOOOOO!!!" The cheer was a physical force, a wave of sound accompanied by the thunderous CLANK of thousands of weapons beating against shields and armor.
The sound was still echoing when the void before them changed. The air grew heavy with the scent of salt, and a deep, guttural roar echoed from the abyss. A tidal wave, impossibly large, crested in the nothingness. From its foam emerged Poseidon astride the Leviathan, the entire ocean realm churning at his back, Nereus at his side.
A constellation rearranged itself into a massive, glowing portal. From it marched Zeus, his face a mask of thunderous rage, flanked by his four generals and an endless host of celestial soldiers gleaming with golden light.
A searing, solar light flooded the void, its heat immense and oppressive. As the glare faded, Helios and Selene stood there and the sky deities and their army stationed behind them.