Chapter 233: Chapter 77
Hades gave only a quiet hum when Nyx’s tale ended, the sound low and measured, neither disbelief nor acceptance—merely acknowledgment.
He had heard of things beyond comprehension before, had seen truths that cracked the sanity of lesser beings, so her revelation stirred nothing in him.
The knowledge of being a remnant of a dead age, the fragment of a world devoured long before memory, did not move him.
He had long since accepted that identity was a shifting thing, and that the past, however monstrous, changed nothing of what he was now.
He reached beside him, picked up the fallen scroll, and without ceremony handed it back to her.
His voice was calm, almost detached, as he shifted the subject entirely.
"So," he said, eyes steady on hers, "you truly intend to lure those outer beings into attacking the Norse?"
Nyx’s lips curled into a faint, knowing smirk, her eyes glowing faintly with the reflection of her boundless darkness.
"Only out of necessity," she replied, her tone light, almost teasing, though the weight beneath her words was vast. "They are wild, thoughtless things, but useful. The Norse are too insulated in their branches and roots, too content in their illusion of stability. If they were to taste true despair, they would come crawling for guidance. Only then would they listen."
Hades tilted his head, silver strands sliding over his shoulder, his tone flat. "You intend to make them suffer so they will submit."
Nyx chuckled softly and pressed a hand to his chest.
"You make it sound cruel, my love. It is necessity. Only through despair does unity grow. And besides..." she leaned in, her voice a silk-edged whisper, "even if things were to go awry, you would help me, wouldn’t you?"
Her words were less a question than a statement she already knew the answer to.
Before he could respond, she continued, her tone shifting to that of a scholar revealing forbidden knowledge.
"Gaia and I, along with the others among the Primordials, have already begun our research into the fusion of universes. The convergence of divine systems. The laws that bind separate realms into one cohesive totality. The Greeks, the Egyptians, the Hindus, even the Christias—all fragments of existence scattered and divided. We have already completed the blueprint to return them to the state before division, to the pure lattice of Chaos."
Her eyes gleamed brighter. "But to succeed, we need to understand the mechanism of Yggdrasil. It connects realms seamlessly. Nine worlds, nine dimensions, yet one structure. If we can comprehend that architecture, we can apply it on a universal scale."
Hades rested his forearms on his thighs, the faintest trace of amusement flickering across his face. "The power required for that would be immeasurable. You would drain countless realities dry."
Nyx smiled in response, unbothered. "Exactly why we will need you."
He gave a slow nod, accepting her words, though a flicker of discomfort crossed his eyes.
He said nothing of it, but the thought pressed against his mind like a stone: he was little more than a source of power, the relic that could bridge ages.
Nyx, perceptive as always, caught the subtle shift in his silence and tilted her head, smiling faintly.
"Don’t look so grim, Hades. You are not merely a vessel. You are the axis upon which this era will turn. Without you, even I cannot hope to balance the merging of worlds. You are the survivor of the last epoch—it is only right that you lend your strength to birthing the next."
He regarded her quietly, then asked, his tone still even, "And how do you plan to use those things? The outer beings. They do not serve anyone. They consume. How will you direct them?"
Nyx’s eyes glimmered with mirth and darkness intertwined. "That kind of thing will of course be left for Erebus to handle. That child only know how to cause trouble or laze around in his domain, it’s time for him to actually be useful for once."
She trailed a finger down his arm, her words flowing like a slow incantation. "Once they attack, the Norse will be thrown into chaos. Their gods will scramble, their realms will burn. The other pantheons will see the threat and panic. They will finally understand that isolation is death. That only through unification under one law, one order—ours—can existence survive."
Her smile widened, and for a fleeting moment the endless dark behind her eyes shimmered with the faint reflection of stars being swallowed whole.
"Fear is the language of gods, my Hades. Once they hear it, they will listen."
Hades was silent once more. His expression gave nothing away, but the atmosphere around them had shifted; the dark air hummed faintly with restrained power.
The scroll rested forgotten beside them again, its words meaningless before the scale of what she envisioned.
Finally, he spoke, voice quiet yet heavy with resolve. "And if the plan fails?"
Nyx’s smile softened into something dangerously tender. "Then we start again, as we always do. I create, you destroy. The cycle repeats until the end of all things."
She leaned in, her breath brushing his ear, her words both promise and decree. "After all, every era begins and ends with us."
Hades nodddd and gave a soft humm.
With a sigh, he rose to his feet, his tall, sculpted frame glowing faintly in the ethereal silver of Nyx’s starlit realm.
Shadows clung to his form like liquid night, reluctant to release him.
With a quiet exhale, purple flame surged around him in a spiraling torrent — and as the embers fell away, a flowing black robe wrapped itself across his shoulders, elegant and severe, its edges embroidered with faint streaks of gold that flickered like dying suns.
Nyx, reclining against the silken darkness of her bed, tilted her head slightly, a small, knowing smile curving her lips.
Her voice came out in a soft, teasing purr, "Leaving already, my dear god of the Underworld? You just got here."
Hades didn’t turn to face her immediately. His purple eyes were fixed on the void-like horizon of her domain, where stars bled into darkness without beginning or end.
"I only came to confirm your plan," he replied in his usual calm tone — that same voice which carried the weight of inevitability, cold and steady as the underworld itself. "Now that I’ve heard it, I should return. There are still countless souls waiting, and endless matters to attend to."
Nyx’s expression softened faintly.
"Always so dutiful," she murmured, her voice a blend of pride and amusement. "You spend your eternity cleaning the messes of gods and men, and still call it peace and order."
She rose with languid grace, the darkness rippling around her like living fabric. "When do you plan on marrying those three troublesome goddesses of yours, then?"
Hades paused mid-step, thoughtful. His expression didn’t change much, but the faint twitch at the corner of his mouth almost passed for a smile.
"As soon as I’m able," he said after a brief silence. "Right now, I’m far too busy with the preparations for the Underworld’s expansion. Once that’s settled... I’ll deal with the chaos that follows marriage."
Nyx chuckled softly, a low, velvet sound that echoed through the vast chamber. "Oh, I’ll be expecting an invitation. And don’t you dare forget to send me one, or I might just decide to devour your entire wedding venue out of spite."
Hades turned slightly at that, the faintest gleam of humor flashing through his eyes.
"You’ll receive an invitation," he assured her dryly. "And I’ll even ensure the gifts you send won’t terrify the guests this time."
Her laughter followed him as he moved toward the edge of her realm — deep, dark, and almost affectionate.
With a single measured step, the ground beneath him cracked in violet light, and the god of the Underworld vanished, leaving behind only the faint shimmer of his departing power.
For a long moment, Nyx stood there, staring at the spot where he had disappeared.
Then she exhaled slowly, reclining once more upon her cosmic bed, her long hair flowing outward into the darkness like rivers of shadow.
"Transcendent beings," she murmured, more to herself than anyone else, "are truly incomprehensible."
Though her senses could no longer trace him — for Hades’s presence had long since transcended the mortal or divine — she knew.
The very fabric of her universe trembled faintly whenever he stirred.
He had grown stronger again, impossibly so.
Her lips curved into a small, rueful smile.
"That sphere of his..." she whispered, half in awe, half in envy. "Truly... such a cheat."
The stars within her realm pulsed faintly in agreement — like the heartbeat of the cosmos itself, keeping time with a god who had already surpassed its laws.