Hecate descended the steps from her throne, each one deliberate, her heeled boots clicking against the black stone. Up close, she smelled faintly of jasmine and smoke. She circled him once, slow and deliberate, like she was weighing the exact balance of risk and reward.
"You've certainly grown more daring since last we spoke," she murmured, stopping in front of him. "Perhaps I'll indulge you… for now."
Helios inclined his head, hiding the flicker of satisfaction in his eyes. "That's all I needed to hear."
But her smile turned sharp again. "Oh, darling, I didn't say yes. I said 'perhaps.' And you should know by now that with me, perhaps can mean almost anything." She stepped back toward her throne, lifting a hand as if to dismiss him. "Still, I'm curious. Elaborate—why exactly should I let you have him?"
Helios took a step forward, lowering his voice just enough to make it sound like the beginnings of a conspiracy. "Because if I succeed, you to keep your kingdom, worry-free for the next nine years. If I fail, well… then the only thing you've wasted is nothing but a moment of conversation. Since you'll just capture the weakened Hades."
Hecate's gaze lingered on him for another beat, then she sat, crossing one leg over the other. Her smile was back to its languid, dangerous curve. "Mm… you make a compelling case, Helios. Let's see if you can make it worth my while."
After Hecate agreed, Helios was sent magically to another area that was guarded by wraiths.
Two wraiths peeled off a patrol and glided to bar his way.
"Halt," one hissed. Its voice sounded like chains dragged over frost. "Audience requires petition—"
"I've got an audience by your Queen's orders," Helios said causing their heads to tilt, then drifted off, more interested in set routes than stray mortals.
Helios kept walking.
Eventually, he came across a new area, most likely built to just house Hades. Helios curled a fist and knocked once.
"No solicitors!" came a ragged snarl from within. "And if it's you again, I swear—"
Helios laid his palm to the seal. Runes flared—recognized the presence of Hecate's magic. The door swung open.
Hades knelt in the center of a star of indigo chains, arms spread and manacles sunk to his wrists like rings grown from ice. The blue flame of his hair guttered low, a stubborn candle in a cathedral that hated fire. He looked thinner. Angrier too, but that was constant.
"Ah," Hades drawled, trying to sit straighter. "Look who crawled back to kiss the ring. You're looking much better than the last time I saw you. Don't tell me—let me guess—special delivery for the new management? A fruit basket? Flowers? Ooh, a strongly worded letter?"
Helios shut the door behind him. "You're talkative for someone chained and kneeling."
"Kid, I was born talkative," Hades shot back. "It's called coping. You might try it. Also, you've got a lot of nerve strolling in here. Do you know how long I've been workshopping my revenge monologue? Weeks. Plural. And your face just—" he gestured with a jerk of his head, chains rattling— "ruined the rhythm."
Helios didn't smile. He walked in a slow circle, studying the sigils sunk into the floor. Anchors locked to six cardinal points.
Helios crouched, fingertips brushing the faintly pulsing lines of magic that bled from the chains into the obsidian beneath.
"Neat work," he murmured. "She built this to hold you until the end of time. Or at least until she got bored."
Hades gave a mirthless laugh. "Oh, she's thrilled. It's like having a pet lion in a cage—dangerous enough to brag about, harmless enough to ignore. And you… what's your deal? Come to gloat? Or did you finally realize you can't run the Underworld without me?"
"I'm not here to gloat," Helios said, standing again. "I'm here to get you out."
The flames of Hades' hair flickered upward, startled into a brighter blue. Then he squinted suspiciously. "…You hit your head on the way down here kid?"
Helios ignored that. "I made a deal with Hecate. Nine years. She keeps her throne, you stay out of Olympus."
Hades tilted his head. "You made a deal with Hecate. And she didn't turn you into a smear on the floor? Either she's losing her edge, or you're more interesting than I gave you credit for."
"Take your pick," Helios said.
"Mm." Hades' smirk returned, though there was a tension behind it. "And why, pray tell, are you breaking me out? Don't tell me it's friendship. You and I? We're about as friendly as oil and a bonfire."
Helios met his gaze evenly. "I need you for something. And before you ask—no, I'm not telling you until you're out of here. Less temptation to run your mouth."
"Oh, ho." Hades leaned forward slightly, chains creaking. "Secrets. I like secrets. I like them even more when I'm not the one keeping them."
Helios' fingers brushed the nearest rune, and he felt the magic in it recoil like a venomous thing recognizing its predator. Good.
"Good," he murmured aloud, straightening. "The chains will hold."
Hades' eyes narrowed. "Uh-huh. And why exactly is that good?"
Helios didn't answer right away. His keyblade materialized in his grip with a sharp flare of darkness and light, the silver and black metal glinting in the dim chamber. He leveled it without ceremony.
Before Hades could guess his intention, Helios snapped his free hand up. "Blizzarga."
The spell detonated point-blank, engulfing the god of the dead in a roaring sphere of ice and frost. The blue flames of Hades' hair shrieked upward, then sputtered under the sudden, choking cold. His roar echoed off the stone walls, the sound somewhere between fury and shock.
"Son of a—!" The curse cracked off into a hiss as frost crusted over his shoulders, his chains groaning under the sudden weight of ice. "What the hell was that for?!"
Helios lowered his weapon just slightly, his breath even, his eyes calm in a way that made the moment more dangerous. "A man or in this case a god," he said, "should always take care of personal business before business."
Hades blinked at him, then barked a short, humorless laugh. "Personal business? You mean this—" he rattled the frozen chains, shards of frost scattering across the obsidian floor— "is your idea of a grudge match?"
Helios' smile was slight but razor-edged. "Every ounce of pain I suffered at your hands," he said quietly, "is owed back in kind. And I'm not the forgiving type."
The flames in Hades' hair flared again, melting the rime along his neck, but the frost still clung stubbornly to his arms and chest. He tilted his head, eyes narrowing into a sharper sort of amusement.
"You've got gall, kid. I'll give you that." He strained against the bindings just enough to make them creak ominously. "But you're going to remember something: gods don't stay in chains forever. And when I'm free—"
Helios cut him off with a raised hand. "When you're free, you'll be exactly where I need you to be. And only there."
For a moment, the only sound was the slow drip of melting ice onto the stone. Then Hades leaned back as far as the chains allowed, a half-smile playing at his mouth.
"You know, for someone who wants my help, you're doing a hell of a job making me want to strangle you first."
Helios' grin widened, just enough to make it clear he wasn't remotely intimidated. "Good. We've never had a good relationship anyway. Now, let's get started on repaying you for all the torture."