The Underworld was in an uproar, not from chaos or revolt, but from sheer, unrestrained jubilation.
Word spread like wildfire, faster than the rivers of the Styx could flow, echoing through every cavern and crypt, every ghostly city and cursed plain.
From the silent expanse of Asphodel to the screaming depths of Tartarus, the same cry was heard on every trembling wind...their king was to be wed.
King Hades, the unyielding, the inscrutable, the shadow that ruled over all shadows, was finally getting married.
And not to one, but to three of Underworld's greatest goddesses: Hera, the Goddess of Marriage; Aphrodite, the Goddess of Beauty; and Hecate, the Goddess of Magic.
For an immortal realm that knew only stillness, it was as if the very Underworld had come alive.
The specters of the dead danced in translucent joy.
Shades who had long forgotten emotion began to murmur blessings.
