Time flowed quietly amidst research and collaboration. On this day, Hades (Orphos) was walking through a silent, pale forest.
The air here was filled with a faint breath of emptiness and peaceful slumber.
He sensed something in his heart, looked up, and saw familiar yet seemingly strange figures.
Thanatos and Hypnos, the twin gods of death and sleep, still stood side by side, as before.
Thanatos's black robe was soundless, and his great scythe radiated the invisible chill of the end; Hypnos had soft silver hair and sleepy eyes, as if he could dissolve into the surrounding dreams at any moment.
However, unlike their almost indifferent calm or the silent understanding tinged with familiarity before, this time Hades acutely sensed an extremely subtle... feeling of restraint.
They did not simply glance at him calmly, nor were they lazily greeted by Hypnos as they used to do.
Instead, they ceased what seemed to be an ongoing whisper, and their eyes were focused on him.
In this gaze, there was a little less of the past casualness, a little more scrutiny, and even a hint of barely perceptible... wariness.
Hades's heart stirred slightly.
"Is it because I am now a mighty divine power?" He thought silently.
The gap in divine power level was indeed an insurmountable divide between gods, enough for them to feel the pressure of a weak divine power.
The natural coercion brought by mighty divine power, even if he consciously restrained it, was like a silent deep sea, possessing its own majestic momentum.
But he quickly dismissed this idea. Judging by the origin and nature of these brothers, they were not very similar.
They were descendants of Nyx and Erebus, progeny of primordial gods whom even Cronus was unwilling to easily provoke. They were responsible for the most fundamental laws of the world—death and sleep—and their powers were unique and irreplaceable.
Their view of the world was more based on duty and essence, rather than merely on the level of divine power. Even in front of Cronus, they observed the necessary etiquette more than reverence.
So where did this feeling of restraint come from?
Hades maintained the gentle appearance of 'Orphos', took the initiative to break the silence, and his tone was as natural as meeting an old friend: "Thanatos, Hypnos, long time no see."
Hypnos's silver lashes fluttered, as if he wanted to show a puzzled smile as usual, but the smile seemed a little stiff.
He replied vaguely: "Ah... it's Orphos." His voice was less lazy and casual than before.
Thanatos merely nodded slightly, and his gaze beneath the black robe was like the deepest night, falling upon Hades as if re-evaluating something.
He was silent for a moment before speaking in his usual calm tone, but it seemed to carry meaning: "Your breath... is different from before, Orphos."
Different? Hades knew this in his heart. Yes, he had advanced to mighty divine power by combining various forces such as [Lava], [Forging], and [Knowledge], and the essence of his divinity had long surpassed that of a simple 'plant god'.
Even if the power of [Secrecy] perfectly concealed his appearance, the deeper 'heaviness' and 'complexity' emanating from the essence of a god, if he didn't use the 'Foundation of Gaia', might not be able to be completely hidden from these descendants of primordial gods, who were extremely sensitive and had a unique understanding of the nature of 'being'.
What they perceived was no longer a gentle god only connected to the withering and flourishing of plants and trees, but a being with profound divinity and restrained power, yet unable to see through its roots.
Such 'unknown' and 'depth' might be the real reason for the feeling of restraint for those accustomed to clear boundaries (life/death, waking/sleep).
"The path of power will always expand," Hades said in a calm tone, neither denying nor explaining in detail, but merely slightly, "Just as death has no single form, sleep has different depths."
He skillfully steered the topic towards territory familiar to the other party, and at his fingertips flowed the pure green radiance of the [Plant] divinity, gently touching a pale flower beside him, struggling on the verge of life and death.
The flower did not revive immediately, but under the influence of the divine power, the edges of its petals glowed with a soft light, like a farewell gleam, and then slowly wilted and fell in a more peaceful and natural posture.
This move not only showed his unchanging respect for the cycle of life and death, but also implied that he was still the same 'Orphos' who intersected with their duties.
Seeing this familiar scene, Hypnos's tense shoulders relaxed slightly, and he murmured softly: "Hmm... only with such peaceful withering can we fall asleep..."
Thanatos's sharp gaze, as if examining a soul, also softened a little. He spoke again, and the strangeness in his tone had greatly diminished: "It seems your understanding of 'the end' and 'new life' is deepening."
The atmosphere seemed less tense. Hades understood that they might not have completely dispelled their doubts, but at least the familiar rhythm of communication was returning.
He did not rush to figure out all the reasons for their change in attitude, and maintaining these slightly delicate but not hostile relationships might be just right for the moment.
He smiled slightly, as if responding to an old friend's comment: "Everything follows its course; I have only glimpsed one or two of them."
Thanatos exchanged an extremely brief, almost imperceptible glance with Hypnos.
In these eyes, there was no longer the previous hesitation or scrutiny, but only a kind of... it was almost solemn.
In the end, it was still Thanatos who spoke, and his direct, undulating voice became particularly heavy due to the content of his words:
"Orphos," he directly called Hades's disguised name, but there was no discernment in his tone, rather a formal address. "We did not meet by chance."
Hypnos nodded slightly to the side, his silver hair swaying with the movement. He rarely showed drowsiness, and deep within those hazy eyes, it seemed that star-like points of light slowly revolved, reflecting some message transcending the current time and space.
Thanatos continued, each word extremely clear: "We are here by order of the Mother Goddess."
"The Mother Goddess invites you to the Underworld," Hypnos replied, his voice no longer murky, carrying an ethereal echo, as if coming from the depths of sleep.
As soon as these words were spoken, even the deathly silence of the surrounding pale forest froze for a moment.
The Underworld, the destination of the dead, neighboring the abyss of Tartarus—a chaotic and dangerous place, with no clear ruler in the current age, where ancient gods like Nyx and Erebus held strong influence. It was also the place where he would one day dominate.
Hades's heart was shaken, but his face still maintained the surprise and just the right amount of reverence befitting 'Orphos': "The Mother Goddess... summons me?"
He merely showed the slight fear and confusion that a being belonging to the 'Plant God' should feel when confronted with primordial ancient gods.
Thanatos's gaze seemed to pierce through Hades's disguise and look directly at its core, but he did not point it out, only conveying according to the established words: "The Mother Goddess said she knows your 'essence'."
Hypnos took a small step forward, and a faint, prophetic mist began to fill his body, his voice becoming more detached and emphasized:
"The Mother Goddess said—'At the right time, in the right place.'"
"The time has not yet come, and the place has not been revealed," Thanatos added in a decisive tone. "We are only responsible for delivering the invitation and the saying. When the time comes, the path to the Underworld will open for you. The Mother Goddess watches over you... Wait quietly and prepare in advance."
"When the time comes... the right place..." Hades repeated these words, full of fate and mystery, in a soft voice.