The Underworld, between the thrones.
Hades's figure had fully solidified from the shimmering affairs of Athena, and he leaned back on the cold obsidian throne.
Just as he closed his eyes, preparing to immerse himself in the flow of the Underworld, a voice with a lazy jest sounded beside him, like an echo in a valley, clear and close.
"Just throwing our daughter into a world destined to burn to the ground?"
Metis had appeared beside the throne at some point, leaning on the armrest, her fingers tracing the cold stone surface, but her eyes were sharp and playful as she turned to Hades.
"My dear Your Majesty, aren't you worried that our wise Athena will get caught up in 'Ragnarök', which even Odin fears, and in the end... it will all be in vain?"
Her tone sounded as if she cared about her daughter, but the slightly raised tail of her voice and the flickering light deep in her eyes were more like a temptation.
Hades didn't even open his eyes, as if he had foreseen her appearance and her questions.
His low voice echoed through the empty hall, calm and unwavering:
"Mímisbrunnr is not Odin's creation, nor is it the private property of the Æsir or Vanir. It is one of the three root wells of Yggdrasil, the World Tree, and its existence predates any of the gods, even before the pattern of the Nine Realms was established; it flowed with the roots of the World Tree."
He stated a cold fact, as if interpreting a cosmic law.
"The wisdom it carries is the mystery of the roots, the birth, and the end of the world. To be able to drink from it, endure it, and understand its existence is ultimately to seek a variable. If Athena succeeds, she will gain not only power, but also... a perspective that transcends the fate of a single world."
His words were extremely rational, completely stripping away the father-daughter relationship.
Metis listened, and the playful smile gradually deepened. The smile remained beautiful, but a chill ran down the spine.
She slowly straightened up and looked at Hades, who still had his eyes closed and appeared indifferent.
Her slender fingers gently tapped his chest, and although through the robe, the movement carried a possessive meaning that could not be ignored.
"Good to know..." her voice suddenly became soft, like a whisper of sympathy, but as dangerous as a venomous snake flicking its tongue.
"Knowing that the spring is ancient, knowing that wisdom is majestic, knowing that it can give our daughter a perspective beyond the twilight..."
She leaned closer, her warm breath almost touching Hades's ear, and in those eyes, as deep as a sea of stars, at this moment was a clear and almost somber obsession and possessiveness:
"But, my Hades..."
Her fingers tightened slightly, as if she wanted to touch his cold heart through his chest.
"Whether it is the wisdom of Chaos or the wisdom of the ancient tree..."
"Your wisdom can only come from me, and only... end with me."
Her voice was as sweet as honey, but her eyes were as sharp as a knife, and each word was clearly imprinted in the silent air:
"I will not allow... any 'foreign wisdom' that taints your essence or... makes me feel that there is someone who can rival me in the realm of wisdom. Even if it is a continuation of your and my bloodline, it is not allowed."
This was not a suggestion, not a discussion, but a declaration. This was the unique and absolute possession of the goddess of wisdom over her 'property'—Hades.
Hades finally opened his eyes.
His violet eyes met hers, which were burning with a morbid flame, and there was no surprise, no displeasure, not a trace of a ripple.
He simply looked at her calmly, as if watching a play that had been rehearsed countless times.
After a while, he spoke softly, and his voice still betrayed no emotion:
"Your wisdom has long been with me, Metis. From chaos to order, from reincarnation to the present."
He neither admitted nor denied her claim, but merely noted that their wisdom had long been intertwined and inseparable through countless reincarnations and shared plans.
This answer seemed to temporarily calm Metis's dangerous possessive nature.
The morbid expression on her face slightly subsided, and she returned to that lazy and enigmatic smile, her fingertips leaving his chest, gently stroking the non-existent traces of chains on her wrist.
"Remember what you said, darling."
She laughed, her figure slowly fading, as if merging with the shadows. "I'm going to Hecate; her research seems to have made interesting progress..."
"Wait," Hades suddenly spoke.
"What? Don't want me to leave?" Metis teased.
He didn't respond to her teasing, but slowly raised his other hand, which had been hanging down.
I saw between his distinct fingertips, at some point, pinching an object.
It was not a dazzling and brilliant gem, nor an artifact containing majestic divine power.
It was a pair of rings.
The material seemed to be the purest obsidian, polished like a mirror, yet so restrained they seemed capable of absorbing all surrounding light.
There was no complex carving on the rings, only on the inside, faint silver lines were vaguely visible, slowly flowing, and the lines contained both the law of the deathly silence of the Underworld and the whisper of wisdom.
"Rings?" Metis was slightly startled. The dangerous and sweet smile on her face froze for a moment, and a genuine surprise flickered in her gray-blue eyes.
Obviously, she hadn't expected Hades to come up with something like this at this time.
"Mm," Hades's voice was still low and level, but carried an undeniable affirmation.
"As proof of husband and wife."
He spoke briefly, but it was a thunderous pronouncement.
He lifted her left hand, the one that had just been pointed at his chest with a warning meaning, but was now a little dazed, and his movements were natural and confident, with the irresistible gentleness of Hades.
"Come," he looked at her, his violet eyes reflecting her slightly stunned face.
"I will put it on your ring finger."
His fingertips were slightly cool, touching her warm skin.
The obsidian ring was evenly pushed by him over her knuckle and finally settled at the base of the ring finger of her left hand.
The size was perfect, as if it was born for it.
The moment the ring was put on, Metis felt a strange connection.
She felt the faint silver veins inside the ring, weakly reflecting her source of wisdom, and at the same time, faintly connecting with the cold and majestic aura of Hades's Underworld.
It was like a silent contract, an anchor that confirmed her relationship with him, in an ancient and solemn form.
This sudden gift instantly dispelled the gloom and paranoia that had risen in her heart.
Had he prepared it? Had he foreseen her little emotions? Or was this just a step he thought 'should be taken'?
Either way, this thought, this act of not shrinking back but sending 'shackles' after she had just shown her fangs...
Metis looked down at the restrained and deep obsidian ring on her ring finger, her fingertips gently caressing the smooth surface.
When she looked up again, the sharpness in her eyes was gone, replaced by a softer, yet still possessive, light. But now this desire was enveloped by a more turbulent emotion.
Suddenly, she stood on tiptoe, approached Hades, and left a short but clear kiss on his cool lips.
Then she stepped back, that lazy and enigmatic smile reappearing on her face, but this time the smile truly reached her eyes.
"Hmph... I'll let it slide this time." She gently stroked the ring with her ring finger, a hint of light pride and satisfaction in her voice.
"For the sake of this 'proof'."
She turned, her gown tracing an elegant arc, and her figure merged again with the shadows of Hades, leaving behind words that seemed both a warning and a coy remark, softly echoing in the air:
"Remember, once you put this on, never think of taking it off... My Majesty, the King of Hades."
Hades still sat on the throne, looking in the direction Metis had disappeared, and his fingertips involuntarily touched the lips she had kissed earlier.
The ring he had placed on her with his own hands seemed to still retain the temperature of her fingertips.
In the depths of his violet eyes, a faint care quietly spread, transforming into a deep tenderness unseen by anyone.
"Mm." An almost inaudible reply dissipated between the silent thrones.
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