Cerberus's deep growl resonated through the cave, a sound that cut through the silence like a sharp blade. His head swiveled, eyes fixed on the narrow passage that led outside. Though the entrance was sealed by a door, his instinct knew it was a worthless barrier against the approaching threat. The air thickened with a malevolent energy, and the feeling of impending danger grew with every passing second. Cerberus let out a piercing screech, a desperate alarm that ripped Hades from a restless sleep.
Hades rose to his feet, his hand instinctively gripping the gnarled staff that was his only weapon. He watched Cerberus, the dog's bodies tense, muscles coiled and ready to strike at whatever dared to breach their sanctuary. Unlike his brothers, Zeus and Poseidon, who wielded control over the heavens and seas, Hades possessed no domain, no inherent power. Born in an age ruled by the colossal Titans, he was condemned to a life of hiding, a powerless prince awaiting a power that might never awaken.
"I guess it's time to find a new shelter," Hades said, his voice a low, resigned murmur. Cerberus whined in response, scratching his claws against the stone floor in frustration.
This cave, carved from solid rock by his brother Zeus's lightning, had been his home for as long as he could remember. It was the perfect refuge, but its location had been discovered, and a sense of violation now poisoned the very air. While other beings could merge with the elements—living within water, air, or earth—Hades remained a singular, fragile entity.
Suddenly, a deafening 'BAM!' echoed through the passage. The door, a shield against the world, was ripped from its hinges and thrown violently across the chamber.
Cerberus launched himself into the opening, a dark missile of teeth and claws. A gust of displaced air slammed into the dog, pushing him back. A figure stepped into the cave.
"Hades, son of Cronus," the figure announced, their voice devoid of emotion. "I am Kealan, a messenger. My lord wishes for you to have this tablet."
Cerberus, having recovered his footing, stood his ground, a low growl rumbling in his chest. Kealan calmly placed a polished tablet at the dog's feet and left as quickly as he arrived. Cerberus, his posture still one of defiance, gently picked up the tablet and carried it to his master.
Hades took the tablet from Cerberus's jaws, its smooth surface cold against his skin. His eyes scanned the shimmering script.
"An invitation to a Titanic Banquet," he scoffed, the words tasting like ash in his mouth. Cerberus moaned, his tail tucked low, a clear signal he wanted no part of it.
"It's alright, Cerberus," Hades said, patting the dog's head. "First, we need to leave this place."
Outside, a brilliant flash of lightning tore through the sky, followed by the familiar thunderous roar of his brother's voice. "Hades!"
Footsteps rushed into the cave through the shattered doorway. Cerberus's tail began to thump against the floor in a steady rhythm, and Hades felt a smile spread across his face.
"Brother," he said, walking toward the figure and pulling him into a tight embrace. "I'm okay."
"I came as soon as I heard Cerberus's howl," Zeus said, his voice a mix of relief and fury. "I would have been here sooner, but some messenger delayed me."
"It's alright, Zeus, it was just Kealan, a messenger from Cronus. He wants me at his Titanic Banquet."
Zeus's brow furrowed. "He invited you too? I sense something is amiss. He's held countless banquets since our birth, and never once has he extended an invitation to any of us."
"Perhaps he's coming around," Hades mused, a hollow hope in his tone. "I heard he received a prophecy not long ago."
"Rest, brother. I'll get to the bottom of this," Zeus said, scanning the wrecked cave. "You can't stay here anymore. I'll prepare a new place and send Hera to get you."
Zeus knelt down, his massive hand scratching Cerberus behind the ears. He gave the dog a piece of meat, and Cerberus's tail wagged with a frantic happiness. Zeus stood up, a deep sense of unease still clouding his features. "I don't like this, Hades. Be careful."
With that, Zeus was gone in another flash of lightning, leaving Hades and Cerberus alone once more. The air was thick with the strange presence that had brought the messenger, and the new, confusing energy from the tablet in Hades's hand.
Hades stepped out of the cave, the weight of the ominous tablet in his hand feeling heavier than a boulder. The air was thick and still, a stark contrast to the familiar chaos of his brothers' domains, the sky an endless canvas of purple and gray. Cerberus walked close, his soft paws making no sound on the dusty earth as they moved through a landscape of jagged rock formations and silent chasms. Hades kept a low profile, weaving between immense, silent mountains that seemed to scrape the ceiling of the sky.
His mind raced with a thousand questions. The Titanic Banquet was a prestigious event, one reserved for the most powerful of Titans, those fit to sit beside Cronus. He and his siblings were deemed weak, sent away to establish their own domains, yet now, his father wanted them in the inner circle? Why?
Suddenly, Cerberus stopped, his body going rigid. A mournful howl followed by a low growl rumbled in his chest, a sound of contempt and disdain Hades had never heard from him before. A figure emerged from the shadows of a large, gnarled rock formation. He was a young Titan, his lean form radiating an arrogant power. He looked at Hades, and a sneer twisted his lips.
"Well, well," the Titan said, his voice echoing with insufferable condescension. "Look what we have here. Hades, son of Cronus, first of all gods, god beneath the cave." The Titan roared with laughter at his own joke.
Hades's hand instinctively tightened around his staff. "Who are you?" he demanded, his voice thin in the face of the Titan's immense power.
"I am Korios," the Titan announced, puffing out his chest. "Son of Themista. And you, little god, are a disgrace. A stain on the legacy of Cronus."
Korios took a step forward, and Hades felt an immense, invisible force slam into him, pushing him to his knees. The rocky ground seemed to have a will of its own, an oppressive weight holding him down. Korios hadn't lifted a finger; it was just his presence, his sheer, unbridled power. Hades strained, his muscles burning with a futile effort as he tried to stand against the very force of gravity.
"See?" Korios said, his voice dripping with mockery. "You have no power. None at all. A useless runt."
Cerberus leaped forward, a flash of black fur and snapping teeth. But Korios merely gestured with his hand. The dog was slammed to the ground, a large rock pinning him with impossible weight. Cerberus whined, his body unable to move, his eyes locked on Hades in desperation.
"The banquet," Korios said, his voice now a venomous whisper. "My father is there. All the great Titans are there. Your father has invited you to… what was it? Oh, yes. To show the world what you are. Nothing."
Korios laughed, the sound a harsh echo in the silent, empty world. "Someone like you is not fit to sit by my father's side," he grinned, reaching down to take the tablet from Hades. "I'll spare you the embarrassment." With a flick of his wrist, the pressure on Hades and Cerberus was released. Korios turned and walked away, his laughter fading into the distance.
Hades slowly picked himself up, his muscles aching with an unfamiliar pain. The humiliation was a deeper ache. He wasn't just weak; he was insignificant. He looked at Cerberus, who was licking his hand, a look of pity in his eyes. He watched as Korios moved through the rocks away from him.
Suddenly, a brilliant 'SPLASH!' of light and thunder echoed through the chasm. A bolt of lightning struck the rock Korios was in, blasting him out of the mountain.
"Zeus!" Korios mumbled. Compared to him, who had control over rocks, Zeus controlled lightning—a feat he couldn't defend against. "Zeus, brother," Korios said with a forced smile.
"I'm not your brother," Zeus replied, landing on a nearby hill, his eyes brewing with lightning. "Give it." He stretched out his hand, lightning sparking through his fingers.
Korios reluctantly dropped the tablet. "I am as Titanic as you are, I am…"
"Tell that to your father," Zeus interrupted, whipping a bolt of lightning at Korios. Korios quickly merged with one of the nearby rocks, dodging the attack.
"You can't stay out of trouble, can you, brother?" Zeus picked up the tablet and turned to Hades.
Hades looked at him with a helpless, defeated gaze, self-pity written all over his face.
Zeus pressed the tablet into Hades's palm, sparks dancing across its surface.
"Whatever game Father plays," Zeus said, his voice grim, "you and I are pieces on his board."
Hades stared at the cold stone, its letters burning faintly against his skin, and for the first time, he wished he had never been born a son of Cronus.