***I'll be busy tomorrow, so here's the next chapter.***
The quiet of Helios' room was a welcome contrast to the noise downstairs. He made sure the door was shut, rolling his shoulders as he let the weight of the last world sink into his bones.
His hoodie was the first thing to go—he peeled the sleeveless white garment off and tossed it onto the back of a chair. The black and white checkered dress shirt followed, its short sleeves brushing against his skin before he let it slide off and land beside the hoodie. The air in the room felt cooler against his bare arms, a faint breeze from the cracked window brushing over him.
Now he stood in just a tight-fitted black tank, the fabric clinging to his lean frame. His breathing slowed as he reached for the hem, ready to pull it over his head.
That was when the air in front of him split open.
A dark corridor bloomed into existence, swirling shadows filling the space between the wall and the center of the room. The oppressive hum of darkness accompanied it, and without hesitation, Kurai stepped through.
Helios didn't flinch. Instead, he smirked.
"You know," he said lightly, "you can enter my room normally. Doors still work."
Her gaze was cold, unbothered by his teasing. "We need to talk."
That clipped tone was enough to make Helios lower the tank top back into place. He turned toward her fully, blue eyes catching the faint violet glow in hers. "Let me guess—you're curious about why we came here first?"
Kurai shook her head. "No. I know why." She took a step closer, shadows curling faintly at her boots. "What I want to know is… did you make this decision with a clear head? Or with your emotions?"
Helios' smile widened, though his eyes sharpened. "Both," he admitted without hesitation. Then, almost casually, he added, "Once we leave here, I don't expect we'll be back for a few years. At the earliest."
There was the briefest pause between them—just long enough for the words to settle. Kurai's jaw shifted almost imperceptibly, but she said nothing.
Helios tilted his head, studying her. "What's this? You're worried about me?"
The answer came in steel. In an instant, the Shadow Sovereign materialized in her grip, the jagged teeth of the keyblade stopping just shy of his throat.
"I'm worried," she said, voice steady, "about why you're changing the plan. And why you dragged us to Olympus and Atlantis without giving a reason."
Her proximity made the moment heavier—the faint scent of metal from her weapon mingled with the trace of ozone the dark corridor had left behind. Helios, however, remained perfectly still, the smirk still ghosting his lips.
"You wound me," he murmured, raising a hand and lightly tapping the flat of her blade with two fingers. With a small shift, he pushed it aside. "Trust me a little, Kurai. This detour?" He took a step closer. "It's going to make a huge difference—for both of us. We're going to get exactly what we want."
For a moment, her expression didn't change. Then the weapon dissolved in a ripple of darkness. "Then hurry up," she said, her tone dropping lower, "before Skuld figures out what you're planning."
Helios chuckled, taking a step back. "I was thinking of taking a nap first—"
Her glare cut through the rest of his sentence.
"Alright, alright," he relented, running a hand through his dark midnight-blue hair. He muttered a cleaning spell under his breath, brushing invisible dust from his tank, jeans, and the clothes on the bed before pulling his checkered dress shirt back on. The fabric fit neatly over his frame, the short sleeves ending just above his elbows. His sleeveless white hoodie followed, the intricate black crown-like designs etched into the fabric catching the dim light of the room. Finally, he adjusted the frayed hem of his jeans, worn soft from years of wear.
The look suited him—casual yet deliberate, as if every detail was there by choice. Combined with his quiet confidence, it was a presence that seemed to both invite and ward off questions at the same time.
"Happy now?" he asked with mock exasperation.
"Not yet," Kurai said simply.
Helios laughed under his breath and swept a hand through the air. The room dimmed as shadows pulled together, spiraling outward until another dark corridor formed before them.
Without further comment, he stepped into the void.
The transition was immediate. The air thickened, heavy with a damp chill that clung to the skin. When the darkness peeled away, Helios stood before the looming gates of the Underworld.
They were just as he remembered them—massive, twisted ironwork in magical sigil patterns. The metal was blackened, streaked with veins of glowing indigo that pulsed faintly. Beyond the bars, the land was nothing but jagged stone and shadows that seemed to move on their own.
Helios didn't move for several seconds. The last time he was here, he'd been dragged in as a prisoner, stripped of strength, and subjected to Hades' cruelty until he was little more than a half-conscious shell.
Every scar—which had been healed and faded—still carried the memory of that encounter.
Now he was walking back in.
Alone.
But this wasn't the same Underworld he had left.
Hades no longer ruled here. Kurai had seen to that herself, cutting through his forces and bringing the god to his knees. The victory had been decisive, and the outcome… somewhat expected. Hades hadn't been destroyed, merely dethroned.
His chains were now in Hecate's hands. The demi-goddess sorceress had claimed the Underworld's throne in the aftermath, her rule as absolute as it was controlled, unlike Hades' rule. Hecate saw the Underworld as a business, and she ran it as such.
Helios stepped forward, boots crunching on the blackened gravel. His gaze swept over the gates, the air, the oppressive weight of the realm. Every sound here seemed swallowed, every breath just a fraction too loud.
The part of him that remembered Hades' torture—the moments where his survival had hung by threads thinner than a spider's web—wanted to turn around. But the rest of him, the part that had orchestrated countless moves in the dark, knew he couldn't.
He had to see Hades.
There were things that Helios needed to make sure happened for his own future, and more importantly, he needed to spend some time with Hades to repay him for his 'hospitality' from last time.
Hecate's reign might have secured the Underworld, but it hadn't erased Hades' influence entirely yet.
Helios' fingers flexed once before he reached out and pressed a palm against the gate. The metal was ice-cold under his skin, yet it thrummed faintly, like the beat of a distant heart.
He allowed himself one more breath.
This was no casual visit. It was the next step in a plan Kurai wouldn't yet understand—and one Skuld absolutely couldn't know about. There was also a personal need for revenge there too, but only a small part.
With that thought anchored in his mind, Helios pushed the gates open.