The Underworld was calm, the torches along the obsidian walls of Hades' office flickering with their steady blue glow, casting long shadows that stretched across the mountain of scrolls and stone tablets stacked upon his desk.
Hades, his expression calm yet burdened by the weight of endless duty, placed down his quill after signing the last of the parchments.
He exhaled slowly, the kind of sigh only gods who had carried eons of responsibility could release, then looked up at the figure standing silently before him.
"Thanatos," Hades said, his deep voice cutting through the silence, "I will be leaving for a short while. My family will hold a gathering in the Overworld, and I have agreed to attend. Until I return, you will oversee the realm in my stead."
The god of peaceful death, who had faced the cries of mortals and the final breaths of kings without flinching, gave a solemn nod.
