Chapter 237: Chapter 81
Underworld.
There is a cliff that was steep and endless, carved from black obsidian that shimmered faintly with the ghostly glow of souls wandering far below.
The Underworld stretched below it like an ocean of twilight, rivers of silver and blue threading through fields of eternal dusk, where faint laments and whispered prayers drifted in the air like the slow pulse of eternity.
At the edge stood Hades, motionless, his long black robes rippling faintly with the cold wind that smelled of quiet decay and damp stone.
His silver hair glinted beneath the pale light of the soul-flames that floated far above, and his purple eyes reflected the endless expanse below him, calm, unreadable, fathomless.
Behind him, the sound of footsteps echoed softly against the stone.
Aphrodite was the first to reach him, her golden hair gleaming against the darkness, her laughter bright and melodic like sunlight breaking through storm clouds.
Without hesitation, she leapt onto his back, her arms wrapping around his shoulders as she pressed herself close.
"Hades~," she cooed teasingly, her voice lilting with playful warmth. "You dragged us all the way up here just to stare at your gloomy kingdom again? What are we doing here?"
Hera followed shortly behind, her presence commanding even in silence. She crossed her arms, the faint wind tugging at her whire gown, her eyes steady and sharp.
Normally, she would have already pulled Aphrodite off Hades with a glare or a cutting remark, but today, she did not. Her lips pressed into a thin line, as if she was silently curious about what Hades was planning.
Hecate stood a few steps behind them, quiet as ever, her shadow long and still. Her dark robes fluttered faintly in the wind, her expression unreadable.
The faint glimmer of mana around her dimmed slightly, as if in reverence to her presence. Her gaze was fixed on Hades, calm and attentive, as though waiting for something significant to be spoken.
Hades lifted his hand and tapped Aphrodite’s arm lightly, not unkindly, but a silent gesture.
She pouted, but obediently slid off his back, landing gracefully beside him, her smile never fading.
Hades exhaled softly, his breath misting faintly in the cool air. His voice, when it came, was low but carried across the cliff with the kind of quiet authority that made even the restless wind fall still.
"Hecate," he said, his tone measured. "Tell me, what did you think of me when we first met?"
The question caught her off guard. Her brows furrowed slightly, but after a pause, she answered truthfully.
"You were cold," she said softly, her voice carrying the memory of those early days. "Efficient. Controlled. A being of precision and purpose. You never allowed yourself to waver, never showed emotion. You seemed like someone who would discard anything, anyone, if it stood in the way of your goal."
Hades nodded once, his expression unreadable. "I see."
Then, without hesitation, he turned to Hera, his eyes steady. "Hera, how about you?"
Hera blinked, crossing her arms tighter as if in reflex. She met his gaze, the faintest trace of a smirk tugging at her lips.
"Back then?" she said after a moment. "I thought you were... intense. So focused it was almost frightening. You didn’t look at people, you looked through them, as if we were all just obstacles or tools to fulfill some grand order in your head. You ruled like someone who had forgotten what it meant to feel."
Her tone was blunt, but not cruel. She spoke with honesty, and Hades accepted it with a silent nod.
Then, his purple eyes turned to Aphrodite.
The goddess of love smiled faintly, though her gaze was softer than usual.
"Me?" she asked, tapping her chin playfully before answering. "Hmm... I thought you were like a golem—shaped perfectly, but hollow. You acted kind, but it felt like imitation. You understood compassion only as an idea, not as something real. Like you were mimicking what you thought kindness should look like."
Her words lingered in the air, sharp and tender all at once.
Hades said nothing for a long moment. He turned away from them, his gaze drifting toward the vast horizon of the Underworld below.
The faint lights of souls shimmered like a mirror to the stars above, silent witnesses to this rare gathering of divinity and honesty.
"...And now?" he asked quietly. "Do you think I’ve changed from that man you first met?"
There was no hesitation in their answers.
"Yes," all three said, almost in unison.
Aphrodite’s tone was bright and warm, her voice carrying a hint of laughter. "You’re not pretending anymore. You actually care, you know? You don’t just look like a golen in man’s body—you are one now. You feel, you care, you get flustered. It’s kind of cute, really."
Hera’s tone was steadier, her words direct but laced with rare softness. "You’ve learned to let people in, to rely on others. You still think too much, and you still try to control everything, but you’ve stopped trying to bear the world alone."
And Hecate, with a faint smile barely visible under the shadow of her hood, said quietly,
"You no longer isolate yourself from existence but you flow with it. The man I met back then would never have opened his heart to someone, keeping all his thoughts to himself."
The wind stirred faintly, carrying their voices away into the void.
Hades remained silent, his back still turned. His hair rippled slightly with the cold current that swept across the cliff, his gaze distant but calm.
Beneath that composed exterior, something flickered — quiet emotion, restrained but real.
He exhaled slowly, the faintest trace of a smile ghosting across his lips.
"Then," he said finally, his voice low, almost solemn, "I suppose you have all changed me."
Aphrodite stepped forward, her hand brushing his sleeve lightly, eyes glowing with mirth. "Of course we did. Who else could handle a man like you?"
Hera rolled her eyes, though her lips curved slightly. "You make it sound like a challenge."
"It was," Aphrodite teased, leaning against her. "But look at us now. We survived, and we have the man of our dreams."
Hecate sighed softly, though the corners of her lips lifted. "Can’t say I disagree."
The sound of their laughter echoed faintly through the still air, weaving warmth into the bleak expanse.
And for a brief, fleeting moment, even the Underworld, that endless realm of silence and shadow, seemed to breathe.
Hades slowly turned to face the three goddesses before him, the wind at the cliff’s edge whispering around them like the voices of the dead below, carrying with it the faint hum of the Underworld’s breath.
The dark sky shimmered faintly with pale silver light, reflected from the River Styx far beneath.
His gaze, deep as the abyss, softened as it moved from one face to the next, Aphrodite’s radiant warmth, Hera’s steady regality, Hecate’s quiet mystery.
And for once, the Lord of the Underworld looked less like a god and more like a man baring his soul.
He took a slow step forward, his voice calm yet carrying the weight of centuries,
"Without the three of you... I would not be who I am today." He paused, eyes lowering briefly, as though the words themselves were too heavy to speak all at once. "I was once a king who thought perfection lay in control, that order and law were the only truths worth upholding. But you..."
His lips curved faintly, almost tenderly. "You each gave me something I did not know I lacked."
Hades extended his hand. His hands shimmered faintly in the twilight, his tone low and reverent as he continued, "I need you by my side, not as subordinates, not as subjects, but as my equals. My queens."
He exhaled slowly, the faintest trace of vulnerability flickering across his face, something no soul had seen from him in eons. "I am not perfect. I may fall short in many ways, and there are things I can never give, but what I can promise..."
He raised his head, eyes burning like tempered obsidian. "Is that I will treasure you. I will protect you. I will walk with you through eternity."
He smiled, a quiet, earnest curve of his lips that carried more meaning than all his titles combined.
"So," he said softly, "marry me. All of you."
The world fell silent. Even the air seemed to still.
Then Aphrodite broke into laughter, light and melodic, like sunlight scattering on calm waves.
She leapt forward, her golden hair brushing against his chest as she caught his outstretched hand, grinning up at him with teasing eyes.
"That’s not how you propose, my dear Hades," she said, her voice filled with playful warmth. "You didn’t even ask us, you commanded us. How very you."
She tilted her head, eyes softening. "But I don’t mind. You know I love being ordered around by you... especially when it sounds like that."
Hera chuckled quietly, the regal calm in her voice wrapping around the group like a warm embrace.
"Honestly, I expected nothing less." She stepped closer, placing her hand over his other, her golden eyes glinting faintly. "I decided long ago that you would be my husband, whether you realized it or not. You are steady, constant... unshakable. Perhaps that’s what I needed most."
Hecate, who had been silent all this time, finally moved.
Shadows seemed to ripple faintly around her as she stepped forward, her eyes gleaming with that familiar mix of fondness and danger.
She reached out, resting her hand atop theirs—completing the circle.
"I threw away my pride the moment I chose to love you, Hades," she said softly, though her tone carried the threat of a curse. "If you dared not marry me now, I’d make sure every shadow in your realm whispered your regret until the end of time."
Aphrodite laughed again, Hera smiled knowingly, and even Hades allowed a low, amused exhale.
His expression softened, his thumb brushing over their hands as he whispered, "Then let me be bound by that curse — gladly."
He looked at each of them, at Aphrodite’s bright devotion, Hera’s resolute faith, Hecate’s unwavering loyalty, and something in his chest eased.
"I may not be able to always make you happy," he admitted, "but I will always be here. Through every age and every moment. Until even the stars above us forget how to shine."
The three goddesses exchanged a look, a single, wordless understanding that passed between them, luminous and complete.
Then they smiled, each one different, each one beautiful, and together, they reached for him, wrapping their hands and hearts around his.
The Underworld, vast and timeless, seemed to hum in approval.
And for the first time in eternity, the God of the Dead looked utterly, profoundly alive.