Post by Silent on Nov 22, 2013 15:39:38 GMT -5
The space had previously not been so... well... open. What he was staring at used to be a major asteroid collision of planetoid-sized proportions leaving a terribly mashed stain in the centre of what was now a very pleasant scene of a tranquil plane of terra firma. Nothing had grown yet, it had all just been mapped out, a plane the size of a small universe takes a lot of time to make, luckily, the materials from the crash notwithstanding, there were plenty of supplies and, looking down at the legions of workers toiling to plant the seeds on the earth below, plenty of help.
He smiled, the work was almost complete, now the difficult part would soon begin, the perfection of his realm finally realised in the vast interstellar-enabling warp fields closing in the area of land on the boundary points. Stretching to over four thousand miles tall, he felt confident that an atmosphere could be devoloped in simulation of the usual planetoid skies within months. Stepping down from the raised patch of earth he had translated upon, he trudged through the ground, his obsidian black armour boots crashing down with every footfall. Workers did not stop to look up at their lord, even though he knew they wanted to. They were good men and women, all of them and they would be rewarded in due time. A tall figure looked up at him from the masses of serfs and grinned broadly, his tight-lipped mouth stretching to encompass a warmth that emanated from him.
“So glad you could finally join us sir!” called the man, his violet-hued cloak swaying in the chill wind of the expanding atmosphere. “What do you tink of the place?”
“It's very different from the last time I was here. I love it, come here buddy.” The man grinned, pulling in the newcomer to a hug. He looked around, overemphasising his thinking, “Could do with a coat of paint though.”
They both laughed, the newcomer stepped back from the embrace, “I'll get right on it, in the meantime, is there any news from the front?”
“As a matter of fact, there is dear grandnephew. It may come as either joy or sorrow to you.” the older, yet younger man answered.
The demeanour of the other changed slightly, taking a quizical stance, his left hand coursing towards his chin to stroke his short, pointed beard. The man wore a small cuirass of old and worn deathite, one of the most dangerous and radioactive substances not yet known to man, yet it appeared not at all to inconvenience him, nor indeed anyone else here for that matter. Into the cuirass was studded a circle of emeralds, all of which had melted and fused from the sheer potency of the lead material. Around the armour, the man's skin was white and pallid, with scorch march leaning from the more tattered elements of his purple cloth attire that covered the rest of his skin, clearly having been burnt away by the deathite. The man's head was old and gave an air of friendliness, wiseness and an almost curious sort of dread. His eyes pupils were brilliant amethyst in colour, shining from the black carapace that were his lenses.
“Your father...” the younger man shifted uncomfortably, “We caught him, or, more precisely, your brothers caught him.”
The other brushed a strand of long black hair from his eye and frowned, “Not dead?”
“Not dead.”
“What is to happen to him?”
“He will be brought here and looked over by your guidance.” He saw no point in denying it, the council had decided the “degenerate”'s fate before they had even defeated him. He was not all surprised by the look the other gave him, the shock, the sickness, the utter disgust.
“Bring him here?!” he yelled, loud enough to scare several of the nearby workers into inaction. The man's veins glowed a bright purple hew as his anger came to the fore. “Don't they realise what he could do if he escapes!?”
The younger man sighed, his breath not forming in the newborn atmosphere and stepped forwards, placing a single finger upon the other's forehead. His eyes rolled back and he fell, collapsing limply into the younger man's arms.
“Sleep my grandnephew,” the young man whispered quietly as a duo of taller workers rushed over. When they reached him, it was clear to see they were not workers. One was a tall man in a long hooded cloak of blackness almost as dark as the younger man, his skin was taught and running over what appeared to be nothing more than a bone structure, his teeth open to the world with no lips to conceal them, yet concern showed plainly enough on the short supply of nerves working on his forhead. The other wore a suit of armour somehow both incredibly thick and incredibly light at once. It appeared to be based on what they were calling, the Grecian armour of Earth in the sol system. It was coloured a dark red, the frame of arterial blood and shile the younger man didn't like that sort of colour, he could hardly argue against it.
“Father!” the armoured one called, taking the deathite-armoured man from the younger one's arms. “What is wrong with him?”
“He is simply asleep, take him to his chambers and see him well treated.” the younger man commanded before turning to the skeletal one.
“My dear friend, We have new work to do. You are central to it.” He ruffled in his cloak for something and drew out a series of papers, ahnding them over to the man.
The creature stared at each sheet blankly and nodded, “It will be done my lord.”
“Be sure Hades gets the blueprints for the prison and watch over him Charon. He has had a hard blow today and he will never forget it. Not so long as this universe holds.”
The skeletal man bowed and headed off, immediately recruiting workers as he went, commanding they brought with them their tools. The Lawman felt a smile creep over him again despite it all, this was it, this was his realm and so long as he kept it, nothing would ever go wrong again.
3000 Earth years later
The valley was burning and not in the way it usually burned. These were true fires, the blackest of the black, not the light of creation and they swept everything aside, refusing to be stopped. Thousands of people, thousands of creatures fled before the flames, tripping and tumbling over one another in their haste.
“Retreat! Get back to the prison, defend the prison!” Charon yelled, his huge reaping blade slicing through the haft of a polearm wielded by some sort of fierce half dragon, half eagle beast.The tide was coming, it drowned all before the fire swept in to consume. It was not water, nor any other fluid, but a tide of beasts and mutations. Some came from the plane below, believing that to side with the enemy was the best option, others... they were the spawn of the Golden one, set against their former friends in a torrent of sickness and plague.
“Get the women and children through, there is safety through the caves!” Hades commanded atop his chariot, leading a phalanx of Evrascii lion cavalry into the storming hordes. The civilians fled and all those who could bear arms rushed to the prison walls, raining what magic and ranged weapons they could into the tsunami of hellfire raging below. Up ahead, a monstrous four headed dragon loomed, breathing what appeared to be dust from it's grey hued mouths. Where the dust hit, warriors fell in droves as the particles came alive, eating away into their bodies and possessing their souls. The dead rose and the horde grew.
“Two can play at that game!” Hades snarled, whipping his staff upwards and catching the beast in one of it's throats, channeling his power, hades unmade the animal, feeling it turn inside out before erupting in a mass of viscera. But he was not done yet, turning the weapon in his hands, the dragon reformed behind, loosing it's flesh and glowing in a violet hue, the bones assaulted the horde, jaws snapping around four foes at once.
Beside him, Hades saw four Evrascii spear a fire-breathing cocatrice, their lions finishing the job as they bounded over its rotting corpse. The horde was massive, but so too was the wave of fire running behind them. Hades halted his chariot and closed his eyes, mind ticking to find a solution to this terrible penalty laying waste to the land around. He could hear the battle all around him, the blood draining from those who died, worse still, their souls vanishing, to where, he did not know. The Underworld should have been a safe haven, this should not have been possible, but then a great many things should not have been possible. He stepped off the chariot, eyes still closed, ripping the life from a nearby half dragon without so much as a thought. He felt the cold breeze around him, the air as chill as the night his father had come here all those millenia ago, when the atmosphere was only just beginning to fill. Now the fields were broken, the coldness of the void was starting to seep in. He could feel the grass burning, all the work, all the years of labour, dashed in a matter of minutes. The river had turned black, its water polluted beyond any kind of repair. Creatures dwelt there now, horrible things of unmaking. Even he could feel the wrongness emanating from them, as if they should never exist at all.
Hades opened his eyes and saw the hellfire of war raging around him, the atmosphere drained, the skies had begun to vanish, leaving the grand panoply of space above. “The fire is not meant to be, it is the same as the creatures.”
Hades almost hung his head in loss, there was nothing he could do. You cannot kill something which does not exist, neither can you put out a flame which does not exist. At least, he couldn't. His granduncle and grandfather could, but they were away in the greater war. In fact, he wasn't sure if they were even still alive.
As his thoughts and sorrow continued, he knew he couldn't just give up, despite it all, he couldn't let them win without a fight. A creature lunged towards him, it looked like some sort of large turkey with toadlike skin and the claws of a crab. It shrieked, sending him almost off his feet with a sonic shockwave, but he stood his ground, air rippling around him before rapping his staff directly down the beasts throat and blasting it apart.
Evrascii were dying everywhere around him and Hades knew his gambit had failed, he remounted the chariot and blew his horn, a cold, oddly haunting noise signalling the retreat. The horde closed in as the race to the huge prison rock began. The prison spire had been built immediately after his meeting with the Lawman almost 3000 years ago, two thousand foot tall it could be scene for miles around and was the perfect staging area for any public speeches or rallies. Now, it looked as though it would be the chosen place for a last stand. He had lied earlier, there was no safety in the caves, just a postponement of death. The citizens would not die on the battlefield, they would die instead cramped and scared. He didn't know which was better. All he knew, was that he was going to try and kill his father before this all ended. He didn't want to, he really didn't. But the alternative, if the horde released him... that was far, far worse.
A flayed golden wyvern swooped down towards him, ice mixed with tar blasting from its mouth in an attempt to break the wheels of his vessel. Hades pulled with his staff, forcing the creature to come to him before pushing forwards, launcing the wyvern into the air at such a speed it burnt up.
On his arrival, the prison gates swung open, the heavy obsidian doors marked with the sigils of Tartarus. Thousands upon thousands of civilians huddled inside the expanse of the main hall, whimpering a scared, but slightly heartened at the sight of him. He wished he could say something to cheer them, he really did. Instead, he walked right past them, trying not to meet their eyes and headed down to the true prison below, entering a wall formation only he and his grandfather could navigate properly. With the maze solved, Hades unlocked the true Gates of Tartarus, using all the magic he had at his disposal to open them swiftly. The dog was waiting for the intruder but bowed upon seeing its master, all three heads panting in an almost playful mood as it padded alongside him. Ordinarily, he would play with Cerberus, but this was certainly not the time. They passed through the huge network of tunnels until they finally came to the the first of the great chains. Following it, they found themselves upon a narrow plinth over looking a sea of black.
Hades looked up, eyes following the path of the chain which lead to the hand of a god. The creature was the size of a hundred elephants stacked atop one another, humanoid in shape, but only in the roughest estimation. It's skin was black as night, with veins of lava trickling and weeping through thousands of open wounds caused by the jailers. It pained Hades to see him at all, but knew it must be done. He held his spear and reshaped it, feeling it become the deathscythe, the godslayer.
The creature above him sensed the movement and looked down as much as its chained head could, lava-blood trickling from the red eyes that beheld a tiny figure below.
Hades looked up mournfully and said, “Hello father.”
Hades climbed the chains, feeling the heat seer his hands, he did not care. He had lived with armour made from the most dangerous element known for his entire life, bonded to his very flesh since he had escaped his father's prison. He was not going to let a little heat stop him now. He held the deathscythe in his hand feeling the power emanating from it. He could do it, he kept telling himself... he had slain a god before afterall... He shook his head. Set was different... Set was not his father.
Reaching the top, he felt himself touch the surface of Cronos's body for the first time in millenia. He felt fear, he felt anger, he felt sorrow. Emotions swept up over him with every step until he at last reached the head of his father, trapped against the rock wall of his prison by a massive chain strapped to his forehead. Over time, the rock had grown around the head, covering roughly a third of it, Hades was glad. He did not want to look Cronos in the eyes. He stood on his right side, directly behind the earhole and raised the weapon. Suddenly, there was an enormous pressure of force directed towards him and he saw, as if they had never been there, the rocks on the side of Cronos's head disappear.
“No!” He gasped in horror as he realised his mistake... some of his father's power had remained and time was reversing in the cave, the chains lashed and decayed, the rocks began to vanish and Hades himself was getting younger and younger.
“Hades.” the voice was like an avalanche filled with rage, carnage and emotion.
“Hades. Come now my son. Did you really think you could kill me?” Cronos turned his head towards the diminuitive figure on his shoulder, his eyes brimming with a curious emotion.
“As much as I don't like the circumstances, it is good to see you.”
“What?” Hades replied, horror-stricken.
“I have had a long time to think while I have been here my son. A long time to rage and a long time to contemplate.”
“What are you saying father?”
“I am saying,” Cronos began, his wounds everywhere slowly sealing up, “That I have chosen to forgive you.”
“Forgive us?” Hades replied, incredulous.
“No, you. Not Zeus. Not Poseidon. You.” Cronos bristled saying his sons names and Hades could feel the temperature rising.
“Why me?”
“Because you never wanted this. You never wanted to kill me. You were never the leader. You didn't come to hunt me down. You didn't want to imprison me.” Cronos tried to smile, but it did not come easily to him. “Despite it all, you were a loyal son.”
Hades looked horrified. “But... I have to stop you now. I can't let you become a risk again.!”
This time Cronos really did manage a smile, “A risk. Is that what you think of me?”
“Well, aren't you? Won't you cause destruction and ruin, won't you hunt my brothers?”
“Of course.” replied Cronos in earnest. “But you won't do anything about it. Family means too much to you.”
Hades snarled, raising the deathscythe, “I will! I will kill you!”
Cronos looked at him once and laughed. “No you won't.”
The god took Hades from his shoulder and placed him on the plinth, “Now you can't.”
Then, the ceiling exploded. Fire reigned, shadows formed and a trio appeared on the plinth beside Hades and Cerberus. Cronos snarled this time as a lash shot from one of the figures to wrap around his throat, pulling forwards to rip over his head. Another three lashes shot out and Cronos was chained once again before he had the chance to move.
Before he had time to think, Hades and Cerberus were grabbed and vanished, hearing a “Good to see you again nephew, you should write more.” - directed at Cronos.
He crashed down into the now ashen muck, feeling the cold air raking through his bones, his first reaction was to shiver. Hades coughed and looked around, realising he was behind the tide of hellfire. All that remained was this ashen waste.
“You could have killed him!” he heard a familiar voice beside him. But the fact was not directed towards Hades.
“Yes, I could have. But I didn't. I sense Cronos still has a role to play in all of this.” replied a calm, quiet voice.
“Yes, the part where he murders everyone through time and kills my uncles!” responded Ares.
“Quiet down son.” Hades gasped, “If the Lawman says Cronos has a purpose, then he does.”
Ares looked about to rage but stopped himself, instead smashing his mace into the ground, sending up a torrent of sodden ash.
Then Hades noticed something, it was quiet. “What happened? Where is everyone?”
The Lawman approached, his red cloak fluttering in the windless void-air. “I saved them, as many as I could. I brought them to Heaven. The angels are looking after them.”
Another man stood beside the Lawman, he wore a thin breastplate of copper and had long curly brown hair and a beard that hung to just below his neck.
Hades racked his brains before beaming, “Hermes? Is that you?!”
The demi-god stepped forwards with a smile, “It is me, how are you uncle?”
“Very well my boy, what are you doing here?”
“I have a task for him.” The Lawman responded. “God is missing, so my son is taking up residence in heaven to manage his affairs. You know how they are so alike. Hermes offered his service to me to help ferry the dead. But now I have Charon and you for that, so I am getting Hermes to spread the word.”
“The word?” Hades responded.
“The word of the soul, when I built this place all those years ago, I planted the idea of it in the soul of every creature so they could find their way here when they died. Now this plane isn't safe, I need everyone to think of Heaven. He'll do it any way he can, as discreetly as possible. We don't want any mention of the wider war. We cannot worry the multiverse. That is imperative or all we have worked to achieve will die.”
“I understand.” Hermes replied, “Where should I start?”
The Lawman paused then smiled, “There is a little world we are all fond of in the Sol system, I believe you know the one?”
Hermes felt a grin coming along, “I know it my lord. I will begin right away.”
Hermes was about to leave when the Lawman stopped him, “Hermes, warn them of this place, that it is for the worst of the worst. Only those truly damned will go here, to forever be tortured and burned with the rest of our foes. Warn the people of Hell. Tell them not to despair, tell them about God, about his love and generosity and forgiveness. Let them know there is a haven out there.”
Hermes nodded, drawing up his white tunic and opening a portal, “I hope I will see you all again someday.”
“I hope so too,” replied the Lawman.
The portal closed and silence reigned in Hell.
He smiled, the work was almost complete, now the difficult part would soon begin, the perfection of his realm finally realised in the vast interstellar-enabling warp fields closing in the area of land on the boundary points. Stretching to over four thousand miles tall, he felt confident that an atmosphere could be devoloped in simulation of the usual planetoid skies within months. Stepping down from the raised patch of earth he had translated upon, he trudged through the ground, his obsidian black armour boots crashing down with every footfall. Workers did not stop to look up at their lord, even though he knew they wanted to. They were good men and women, all of them and they would be rewarded in due time. A tall figure looked up at him from the masses of serfs and grinned broadly, his tight-lipped mouth stretching to encompass a warmth that emanated from him.
“So glad you could finally join us sir!” called the man, his violet-hued cloak swaying in the chill wind of the expanding atmosphere. “What do you tink of the place?”
“It's very different from the last time I was here. I love it, come here buddy.” The man grinned, pulling in the newcomer to a hug. He looked around, overemphasising his thinking, “Could do with a coat of paint though.”
They both laughed, the newcomer stepped back from the embrace, “I'll get right on it, in the meantime, is there any news from the front?”
“As a matter of fact, there is dear grandnephew. It may come as either joy or sorrow to you.” the older, yet younger man answered.
The demeanour of the other changed slightly, taking a quizical stance, his left hand coursing towards his chin to stroke his short, pointed beard. The man wore a small cuirass of old and worn deathite, one of the most dangerous and radioactive substances not yet known to man, yet it appeared not at all to inconvenience him, nor indeed anyone else here for that matter. Into the cuirass was studded a circle of emeralds, all of which had melted and fused from the sheer potency of the lead material. Around the armour, the man's skin was white and pallid, with scorch march leaning from the more tattered elements of his purple cloth attire that covered the rest of his skin, clearly having been burnt away by the deathite. The man's head was old and gave an air of friendliness, wiseness and an almost curious sort of dread. His eyes pupils were brilliant amethyst in colour, shining from the black carapace that were his lenses.
“Your father...” the younger man shifted uncomfortably, “We caught him, or, more precisely, your brothers caught him.”
The other brushed a strand of long black hair from his eye and frowned, “Not dead?”
“Not dead.”
“What is to happen to him?”
“He will be brought here and looked over by your guidance.” He saw no point in denying it, the council had decided the “degenerate”'s fate before they had even defeated him. He was not all surprised by the look the other gave him, the shock, the sickness, the utter disgust.
“Bring him here?!” he yelled, loud enough to scare several of the nearby workers into inaction. The man's veins glowed a bright purple hew as his anger came to the fore. “Don't they realise what he could do if he escapes!?”
The younger man sighed, his breath not forming in the newborn atmosphere and stepped forwards, placing a single finger upon the other's forehead. His eyes rolled back and he fell, collapsing limply into the younger man's arms.
“Sleep my grandnephew,” the young man whispered quietly as a duo of taller workers rushed over. When they reached him, it was clear to see they were not workers. One was a tall man in a long hooded cloak of blackness almost as dark as the younger man, his skin was taught and running over what appeared to be nothing more than a bone structure, his teeth open to the world with no lips to conceal them, yet concern showed plainly enough on the short supply of nerves working on his forhead. The other wore a suit of armour somehow both incredibly thick and incredibly light at once. It appeared to be based on what they were calling, the Grecian armour of Earth in the sol system. It was coloured a dark red, the frame of arterial blood and shile the younger man didn't like that sort of colour, he could hardly argue against it.
“Father!” the armoured one called, taking the deathite-armoured man from the younger one's arms. “What is wrong with him?”
“He is simply asleep, take him to his chambers and see him well treated.” the younger man commanded before turning to the skeletal one.
“My dear friend, We have new work to do. You are central to it.” He ruffled in his cloak for something and drew out a series of papers, ahnding them over to the man.
The creature stared at each sheet blankly and nodded, “It will be done my lord.”
“Be sure Hades gets the blueprints for the prison and watch over him Charon. He has had a hard blow today and he will never forget it. Not so long as this universe holds.”
The skeletal man bowed and headed off, immediately recruiting workers as he went, commanding they brought with them their tools. The Lawman felt a smile creep over him again despite it all, this was it, this was his realm and so long as he kept it, nothing would ever go wrong again.
3000 Earth years later
The valley was burning and not in the way it usually burned. These were true fires, the blackest of the black, not the light of creation and they swept everything aside, refusing to be stopped. Thousands of people, thousands of creatures fled before the flames, tripping and tumbling over one another in their haste.
“Retreat! Get back to the prison, defend the prison!” Charon yelled, his huge reaping blade slicing through the haft of a polearm wielded by some sort of fierce half dragon, half eagle beast.The tide was coming, it drowned all before the fire swept in to consume. It was not water, nor any other fluid, but a tide of beasts and mutations. Some came from the plane below, believing that to side with the enemy was the best option, others... they were the spawn of the Golden one, set against their former friends in a torrent of sickness and plague.
“Get the women and children through, there is safety through the caves!” Hades commanded atop his chariot, leading a phalanx of Evrascii lion cavalry into the storming hordes. The civilians fled and all those who could bear arms rushed to the prison walls, raining what magic and ranged weapons they could into the tsunami of hellfire raging below. Up ahead, a monstrous four headed dragon loomed, breathing what appeared to be dust from it's grey hued mouths. Where the dust hit, warriors fell in droves as the particles came alive, eating away into their bodies and possessing their souls. The dead rose and the horde grew.
“Two can play at that game!” Hades snarled, whipping his staff upwards and catching the beast in one of it's throats, channeling his power, hades unmade the animal, feeling it turn inside out before erupting in a mass of viscera. But he was not done yet, turning the weapon in his hands, the dragon reformed behind, loosing it's flesh and glowing in a violet hue, the bones assaulted the horde, jaws snapping around four foes at once.
Beside him, Hades saw four Evrascii spear a fire-breathing cocatrice, their lions finishing the job as they bounded over its rotting corpse. The horde was massive, but so too was the wave of fire running behind them. Hades halted his chariot and closed his eyes, mind ticking to find a solution to this terrible penalty laying waste to the land around. He could hear the battle all around him, the blood draining from those who died, worse still, their souls vanishing, to where, he did not know. The Underworld should have been a safe haven, this should not have been possible, but then a great many things should not have been possible. He stepped off the chariot, eyes still closed, ripping the life from a nearby half dragon without so much as a thought. He felt the cold breeze around him, the air as chill as the night his father had come here all those millenia ago, when the atmosphere was only just beginning to fill. Now the fields were broken, the coldness of the void was starting to seep in. He could feel the grass burning, all the work, all the years of labour, dashed in a matter of minutes. The river had turned black, its water polluted beyond any kind of repair. Creatures dwelt there now, horrible things of unmaking. Even he could feel the wrongness emanating from them, as if they should never exist at all.
Hades opened his eyes and saw the hellfire of war raging around him, the atmosphere drained, the skies had begun to vanish, leaving the grand panoply of space above. “The fire is not meant to be, it is the same as the creatures.”
Hades almost hung his head in loss, there was nothing he could do. You cannot kill something which does not exist, neither can you put out a flame which does not exist. At least, he couldn't. His granduncle and grandfather could, but they were away in the greater war. In fact, he wasn't sure if they were even still alive.
As his thoughts and sorrow continued, he knew he couldn't just give up, despite it all, he couldn't let them win without a fight. A creature lunged towards him, it looked like some sort of large turkey with toadlike skin and the claws of a crab. It shrieked, sending him almost off his feet with a sonic shockwave, but he stood his ground, air rippling around him before rapping his staff directly down the beasts throat and blasting it apart.
Evrascii were dying everywhere around him and Hades knew his gambit had failed, he remounted the chariot and blew his horn, a cold, oddly haunting noise signalling the retreat. The horde closed in as the race to the huge prison rock began. The prison spire had been built immediately after his meeting with the Lawman almost 3000 years ago, two thousand foot tall it could be scene for miles around and was the perfect staging area for any public speeches or rallies. Now, it looked as though it would be the chosen place for a last stand. He had lied earlier, there was no safety in the caves, just a postponement of death. The citizens would not die on the battlefield, they would die instead cramped and scared. He didn't know which was better. All he knew, was that he was going to try and kill his father before this all ended. He didn't want to, he really didn't. But the alternative, if the horde released him... that was far, far worse.
A flayed golden wyvern swooped down towards him, ice mixed with tar blasting from its mouth in an attempt to break the wheels of his vessel. Hades pulled with his staff, forcing the creature to come to him before pushing forwards, launcing the wyvern into the air at such a speed it burnt up.
On his arrival, the prison gates swung open, the heavy obsidian doors marked with the sigils of Tartarus. Thousands upon thousands of civilians huddled inside the expanse of the main hall, whimpering a scared, but slightly heartened at the sight of him. He wished he could say something to cheer them, he really did. Instead, he walked right past them, trying not to meet their eyes and headed down to the true prison below, entering a wall formation only he and his grandfather could navigate properly. With the maze solved, Hades unlocked the true Gates of Tartarus, using all the magic he had at his disposal to open them swiftly. The dog was waiting for the intruder but bowed upon seeing its master, all three heads panting in an almost playful mood as it padded alongside him. Ordinarily, he would play with Cerberus, but this was certainly not the time. They passed through the huge network of tunnels until they finally came to the the first of the great chains. Following it, they found themselves upon a narrow plinth over looking a sea of black.
Hades looked up, eyes following the path of the chain which lead to the hand of a god. The creature was the size of a hundred elephants stacked atop one another, humanoid in shape, but only in the roughest estimation. It's skin was black as night, with veins of lava trickling and weeping through thousands of open wounds caused by the jailers. It pained Hades to see him at all, but knew it must be done. He held his spear and reshaped it, feeling it become the deathscythe, the godslayer.
The creature above him sensed the movement and looked down as much as its chained head could, lava-blood trickling from the red eyes that beheld a tiny figure below.
Hades looked up mournfully and said, “Hello father.”
Hades climbed the chains, feeling the heat seer his hands, he did not care. He had lived with armour made from the most dangerous element known for his entire life, bonded to his very flesh since he had escaped his father's prison. He was not going to let a little heat stop him now. He held the deathscythe in his hand feeling the power emanating from it. He could do it, he kept telling himself... he had slain a god before afterall... He shook his head. Set was different... Set was not his father.
Reaching the top, he felt himself touch the surface of Cronos's body for the first time in millenia. He felt fear, he felt anger, he felt sorrow. Emotions swept up over him with every step until he at last reached the head of his father, trapped against the rock wall of his prison by a massive chain strapped to his forehead. Over time, the rock had grown around the head, covering roughly a third of it, Hades was glad. He did not want to look Cronos in the eyes. He stood on his right side, directly behind the earhole and raised the weapon. Suddenly, there was an enormous pressure of force directed towards him and he saw, as if they had never been there, the rocks on the side of Cronos's head disappear.
“No!” He gasped in horror as he realised his mistake... some of his father's power had remained and time was reversing in the cave, the chains lashed and decayed, the rocks began to vanish and Hades himself was getting younger and younger.
“Hades.” the voice was like an avalanche filled with rage, carnage and emotion.
“Hades. Come now my son. Did you really think you could kill me?” Cronos turned his head towards the diminuitive figure on his shoulder, his eyes brimming with a curious emotion.
“As much as I don't like the circumstances, it is good to see you.”
“What?” Hades replied, horror-stricken.
“I have had a long time to think while I have been here my son. A long time to rage and a long time to contemplate.”
“What are you saying father?”
“I am saying,” Cronos began, his wounds everywhere slowly sealing up, “That I have chosen to forgive you.”
“Forgive us?” Hades replied, incredulous.
“No, you. Not Zeus. Not Poseidon. You.” Cronos bristled saying his sons names and Hades could feel the temperature rising.
“Why me?”
“Because you never wanted this. You never wanted to kill me. You were never the leader. You didn't come to hunt me down. You didn't want to imprison me.” Cronos tried to smile, but it did not come easily to him. “Despite it all, you were a loyal son.”
Hades looked horrified. “But... I have to stop you now. I can't let you become a risk again.!”
This time Cronos really did manage a smile, “A risk. Is that what you think of me?”
“Well, aren't you? Won't you cause destruction and ruin, won't you hunt my brothers?”
“Of course.” replied Cronos in earnest. “But you won't do anything about it. Family means too much to you.”
Hades snarled, raising the deathscythe, “I will! I will kill you!”
Cronos looked at him once and laughed. “No you won't.”
The god took Hades from his shoulder and placed him on the plinth, “Now you can't.”
Then, the ceiling exploded. Fire reigned, shadows formed and a trio appeared on the plinth beside Hades and Cerberus. Cronos snarled this time as a lash shot from one of the figures to wrap around his throat, pulling forwards to rip over his head. Another three lashes shot out and Cronos was chained once again before he had the chance to move.
Before he had time to think, Hades and Cerberus were grabbed and vanished, hearing a “Good to see you again nephew, you should write more.” - directed at Cronos.
He crashed down into the now ashen muck, feeling the cold air raking through his bones, his first reaction was to shiver. Hades coughed and looked around, realising he was behind the tide of hellfire. All that remained was this ashen waste.
“You could have killed him!” he heard a familiar voice beside him. But the fact was not directed towards Hades.
“Yes, I could have. But I didn't. I sense Cronos still has a role to play in all of this.” replied a calm, quiet voice.
“Yes, the part where he murders everyone through time and kills my uncles!” responded Ares.
“Quiet down son.” Hades gasped, “If the Lawman says Cronos has a purpose, then he does.”
Ares looked about to rage but stopped himself, instead smashing his mace into the ground, sending up a torrent of sodden ash.
Then Hades noticed something, it was quiet. “What happened? Where is everyone?”
The Lawman approached, his red cloak fluttering in the windless void-air. “I saved them, as many as I could. I brought them to Heaven. The angels are looking after them.”
Another man stood beside the Lawman, he wore a thin breastplate of copper and had long curly brown hair and a beard that hung to just below his neck.
Hades racked his brains before beaming, “Hermes? Is that you?!”
The demi-god stepped forwards with a smile, “It is me, how are you uncle?”
“Very well my boy, what are you doing here?”
“I have a task for him.” The Lawman responded. “God is missing, so my son is taking up residence in heaven to manage his affairs. You know how they are so alike. Hermes offered his service to me to help ferry the dead. But now I have Charon and you for that, so I am getting Hermes to spread the word.”
“The word?” Hades responded.
“The word of the soul, when I built this place all those years ago, I planted the idea of it in the soul of every creature so they could find their way here when they died. Now this plane isn't safe, I need everyone to think of Heaven. He'll do it any way he can, as discreetly as possible. We don't want any mention of the wider war. We cannot worry the multiverse. That is imperative or all we have worked to achieve will die.”
“I understand.” Hermes replied, “Where should I start?”
The Lawman paused then smiled, “There is a little world we are all fond of in the Sol system, I believe you know the one?”
Hermes felt a grin coming along, “I know it my lord. I will begin right away.”
Hermes was about to leave when the Lawman stopped him, “Hermes, warn them of this place, that it is for the worst of the worst. Only those truly damned will go here, to forever be tortured and burned with the rest of our foes. Warn the people of Hell. Tell them not to despair, tell them about God, about his love and generosity and forgiveness. Let them know there is a haven out there.”
Hermes nodded, drawing up his white tunic and opening a portal, “I hope I will see you all again someday.”
“I hope so too,” replied the Lawman.
The portal closed and silence reigned in Hell.