The air of the Underworld clung to Helios the moment he stepped through the dark corridor. Cold and heavy, it smelled faintly of incense and something older—stone and shadow woven into every breath. The gates loomed behind him, silent but somehow watchful, the bone-like spires twisted into elegant spirals as if sculpted by some obsessive artisan.
He walked forward with measured steps, letting his eyes adjust to the dim, bluish light cast by the soul-lanterns lining the path. Here, under Hecate's rule, the Underworld was… organized. That was the word for it. Everything moved with purpose. The ever-present wails of the dead were distant, muted, as though tucked neatly behind some unseen wall. Even the skeletal sentinels stood in perfect formation, their armor polished, weapons held at precise angles.
Helios hadn't gone far before the ground beneath him rippled like water. A sigil bloomed at his feet, pale indigo against the black stone, its circular patterns spinning with deliberate elegance. In an instant, the Underworld around him dissolved.
When the world reformed, he stood in an open chamber lit by violet braziers. Silk banners of deep midnight blue hung from the walls, embroidered with symbols that shifted subtly when stared at for too long. At the center, upon a throne carved from obsidian and bone, sat Hecate.
Her smile was already in place, the kind that looked warm at first glance but was sharpened to cut.
"My, my… so soon after your last visit," she purred, her voice carrying the smooth edge of an experienced performer. "And here I thought you'd need more time to recover from your… last stay."
Helios smiled easily, inclining his head in greeting. "Lady Hecate. I'm impressed you found out I'd arrived so quickly."
"Oh, darling, when this place runs properly, one finds herself with quite a bit of free time," she said, resting her cheek in her palm. "I have sigils placed at every entrance now—little alarms that whisper to me whenever someone crosses into my kingdom. That way, I can decide whether they merit an audience… or immediate execution." Her eyes gleamed, and she let the pause stretch just long enough to imply she'd seriously considered the latter. "Lucky you, Helios. Today you fall into the former category."
"And here I was hoping you'd just missed me," he replied, his tone light but calculated.
Her lips twitched, amused but unwilling to give him the satisfaction of a laugh. "Flattery is wasted on me. Now—why are you here?"
Helios tilted his head. "Straight to the point. I like that." He clasped his hands loosely behind his back. "I'm here to see Hades… and break him out."
The pause was so sharp it could've cut stone. Hecate's expression froze, her perfectly painted lips parting slightly as though she needed a moment to confirm she'd heard correctly.
"…I beg your pardon?"
"You heard me."
She stared for a heartbeat longer, and then a laugh slipped out. Soft at first, then fuller, echoing in the chamber. The sound was beautiful and terrible, a melody threaded with mockery. She laughed until her shoulders shook—then abruptly stopped, her eyes narrowing like a knife edge.
"You're insane."
Helios smiled wider. "I'm as sane as I have ever been. Which, depending on your perspective, may or may not be insanity."
Her nails drummed idly on the arm of her throne. "You do realize you're standing in my seat of power, asking to undo one of my greatest victories?"
"Mm. I thought that might be the sticking point."
She straightened, her voice dipping into a colder register. "You really think I'm going to hand him over? Perhaps I should summon Nemesis now and let her carve the lesson into your bones."
At the mention of her guardian, the temperature in the room seemed to drop another degree. A faint ripple of shadow moved in the corners, like something restless was waiting to be called.
But Helios raised a hand casually, as if brushing away a minor inconvenience. "Or… you could hear the rest of the offer."
Her eyes narrowed. "Offer?"
"If you let me take Hades out of the Underworld," Helios said evenly, "I promise you he will not be able to set foot on Olympus for the next nine years."
The chamber was utterly silent for a moment. The flickering violet flames in the braziers seemed to slow.
"Interesting," Hecate said at last, her tone now thoughtful rather than outright hostile. "Nine years is an oddly specific number."
Helios shrugged. "Long enough to keep your throne secure. With that time, even if Hades comes back to reclaim his throne, you will have built an army to stop him. Also, if I'd said 'forever,' you wouldn't trust it."
Her smirk returned, slow and deliberate. "Clever boy." She shifted in her seat, the chains of her belt chiming softly. "And how, pray tell, do you intend to enforce this little restriction?"
"That's for me to handle," Helios said. "But I can promise you it will work. Hades will be alive, elsewhere, and your control here will be absolute for nearly a decade. No challenges. No distractions. No worries about when he'll break out."
She leaned back, considering him in silence for several long moments. Her eyes flicked over him—not appraising in a lustful way, but in the manner of someone assessing a chess piece's exact value.
"Let me guess," she finally said, "you're not doing this out of charity. You think you can use him."
"I don't think," Helios said. "I know."
Hecate's smile deepened, but the warmth was gone entirely—it was the smile of a predator curious about another predator's hunt. "And you're not worried I'll disregard your little bargain, bind you to the Underworld, and still keep him locked away?"
Helios grinned faintly. "Because then I'd have to make it my personal mission to ruin your day. Repeatedly. Like I did with Hades."
Her laugh this time was short and sharp, genuine in its amusement. "I almost believe you would." She stood, and the braziers flared slightly as if responding to her movement. "Still… this is a bold request, even for you. If I agree, it will be because I find it entertaining to watch what you do with him."
"Then I suggest you start enjoying the show early," Helios said, unbothered.