Torchlight bounced off the dungeon walls, but those shadows? They weren't going anywhere. If anything, they thickened up, like they'd been waiting all night for idiots just like this. Made the place feel alive. Not the fun kind of alive, either—more like a bad fever dream.
So, five bold geniuses stomp in—boots scraping up bones and ash, making all the noise in the world. Not even trying to be subtle. Classic raider move, right? I swear, dungeon looters got one brain cell between them and it's just rolling around in there. Kaito, back when he was still drawing breath, used to blacklist this type. Now? He's just waiting for them to step wrong. And let's be honest, they always do.
Tonight, they're not adventurers. They're on the menu.
> [Underworld System Booting Up—Please Enjoy the Carnage]
Threat Level: Eh, nothing wild.
Auto-Skill: First Blood Protocol unlocked—let's see who gets unlucky.
Summoning Subclass Weapon: Lord of the Scythe.
Combat Style: Give-'em-nightmares-on-the-way-out.
Hades just flicks his wrist, and reality itself splits like it's made of wet cardboard. Out comes this scythe—pure nightmare fuel, bone and voidsteel, blade bleeding mist, chains wrapped around the shaft and screaming like they know something the living shouldn't. You ever see a weapon that looks like it's hungry? Yeah, that's this thing.
The priest, bless his delusional little heart, tries to puff himself up. White robes, holy staff, trembling like he's never seen a horror movie. "Blessed light, cleanse this foul spirit—" he starts, but his voice cracks. Even he doesn't buy it.
Hades is done waiting. No grand entrance, no warning shot. Just—bam—blinks forward, palm clamped onto the priest's throat. Shadows spread from his fingers, skin goes all grey and crumbly, like the dude's turning into old newspaper left in the rain. There's something almost sad about how quick the priest's faith crumbles—maybe he thought something up there would save him. Spoiler: Nope.
"You pray to light," Hades murmurs, cold as the grave. "Light's got no say here."
He squeezes, and the priest just falls apart. Not even a scream. Guy's nothing but dust and regrets.
> [Enemy Wasted: Soul Absorbed]
+1 Dungeon Energy
+1 Fear Aura—mood's getting spicier
New Skill: 'Smite'—but evil now, because why not?
Rest of the squad? They freeze. You'd think they'd charge or something heroic. Nope. Rogue chick with daggers? Outta there so fast she leaves a cartoon outline. Except the dungeon's got a sense of humor—air swallows her whole. No scream, no echo, just gone. Like she never existed.
> [Trap Unlocked: Maw of Regret—Now Serving Adventurers]
Knight's panicking, shield up, voice wobbling hard: "What the hell is this dungeon?! This isn't a normal raid!" His armor's rattling so bad you'd think he's got maracas hidden under there.
Hades steps down from his throne, all cool and collected. "You're in the Underworld. I'm not a loot drop. I'm your last stop, pal."
He lifts the scythe, points it straight at them, almost casual. "I'm where your story ends. No respawns here."
Mage finally grows a backbone, tosses a fireball—straight at Hades' chest. It hits, fizzles, and does absolutely nothing. I mean, not even a scorch mark. Hades doesn't even bother to brush off the ashes.
> [Passive Skill: Soul Armor—Fireball? Please. Bring a real spell next time.]
Hades flicks away the scythe, swaps in chains that pop out of the ground like angry snakes. They wrap around the mage, snap him up into the air, then slam him into the cavern ceiling. You ever drop a watermelon off a roof? Yeah, it's like that. Messy.
Now it's just the knight and the archer. And you can smell the fear.
"Fall back! FALL—" the knight yells, but too late. Hades stomps the ground, and the floor collapses beneath the knight, revealing a pit just writhing with black, grasping hands. The Lost Souls of Betrayers, pulling him down as he screams. You'd think the guy would stop fighting, but nope, he's clawing at the stone right up until he disappears under the swarm.
The archer's the last one standing. Well, kneeling, actually. Blubbering, begging, snot and tears. "Please. Please don't—"
Hades squats down, head cocked to the side, voice soft. "Don't what? Kill you?" He grins, all teeth. "Or let you crawl back and warn your little friends?"
The poor bastard just sobs. Hades gently taps his forehead, and the guy slumps over—soul yanked out like a plug in a bathtub. Still breathing, but empty, like he's gonna spend the rest of eternity staring at the wall, drooling.
> [First Trial Handled]
Dungeon Defended—try again tomorrow
Fear Level: +3—atmosphere getting thick
Territory Expanded: +20 meters—bigger playground
Unlocked: Hall of Chains—bring your friends
Blood soaks into the stone, and the dungeon just eats it up. Walls thicken, go all obsidian and jagged, spikes erupt from the ceiling. The throne glows like a traffic light straight outta hell. The place looks meaner by the second.
And then—behind the throne—a portal starts shimmering. Not the friendly kind. The air warps, colors bleed, and it's like someone's watching from the other side. Feels like getting stared at by something you can't punch.
> [Alert: Divine Eyes Detected]
Heads up: Upper Pantheon's taking notes.
A minor god is on the way. Probably thinks they're gonna "restore balance" or whatever they do for fun up there.
Hades just leans into it, staring at the portal with the same look you give a slow driver in the fast lane. "Send them," he mutters, rolling his scythe in his palm. That thing's humming, hungry for more. It wants a real fight.
"Send them all. I'm just getting warmed up."
And if the gods think they're gonna stroll in and clean house? Yeah, they're in for a serious wake-up call. This isn't their temple. This is Hades' yard. And tonight, the house always wins.