*PTPTPT*
Inside the cave, a single droplet of water echoed again and again, breaking the silence that hung heavy in the air.
A lone figure stood in the center—bare-chested, his pants torn and dirt-stained. The pattern of the rips made it clear this wasn't from fashion, but from battle and strain.
It was the sixth day of training under General Vulcan.
The General stood at a distance, his sharp eyes fixed on the boy standing still with his palms pressed together and eyes closed.
The air around him felt different—unsettling. Vulcan couldn't quite name it. It wasn't dread. It wasn't rage. It was something deeper, rawer. A storm of chaos that refused to settle.
The heir of the Chaos King.
When Vulcan had first seen Hades, he was disappointed. The boy seemed too calm, too controlled. But as the days passed, the General began to see what lay beneath.
