"....you....you're...you're Death?" Mrs. McCall muttered in disbelief.
The revelation hung in the air, heavier than the golden light surrounding them. The same man who had brought her favorite flowers to her sickbed, the one who had treated her son with such meticulous care, was the literal personification of the end.
"Yes, I am," Hades replied. He didn't say it with pride or malice; it was simply a statement of existence, as immutable as the horizon.
A sudden, sharp fear pierced her heart. "....is....is Ken going to die? Is that why you are close to him? Are you waiting for him?"
"No, he isn't," Hades replied, his gaze drifting toward the swaying field of daffodils. "I find him interesting in ways I am yet to understand. And though I don't know what these new feelings are, I am certain I don't want to let him go."
