Hades descended.
Not with his feet — the throne room floor had long since become irrelevant. He sank into himself, into the endless ocean of souls trapped within his divine core. The realm around him warped in sympathy. The palace twisted like a living thing, corridors lengthening into impossible labyrinths, walls bleeding memories that dripped onto the stone as liquid shadows.
Deeper.
The command came from within. Whether his own will or Persephone's faint pull, he no longer knew.
Each layer he pierced brought new torment.
First came the recent dead — those lost in the final war. Warriors still clutching broken swords, mothers cradling children who would never grow old, angels whose wings had been torn away in the last desperate stands. Their voices were sharp, accusatory.
You did this.
You took everything.
