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Hades
Hades wakens to her father’s taunts. Kronos always loved a cruel barb, one that struck like a twisting knife to the side. These aren’t any different.
“Your mother won’t save you now, Hades. Just as she refused to save you then.” Kronos' gloating lilt slides against Hades' senses, nails running down slate that causes gooseflesh to pebble on her skin.
Hades knows Rhea won’t save her. Yet, Hades wonders why she still calls for the woman who refused to allow Hades safety.
Mother, if you hear me, I curse you to feel your failures. May they be your constant source of self-destruction and silent reckoning.
Hades rarely wishes curses upon others. A curse uttered in fear or anger cannot be undone, and she’d seen too many of her curses harm her loved ones before she healed old wounds. Rhea is a festering pock on her heart, one Hades let poison her for centuries. But not now, not in her father’s hold. Hades decides to heal at least one of her final regrets.
She accepts that she won’t have closure with Kore. She accepts that she won’t see him again—won’t taste his sweet kiss or breathe the earthy scent of his skin. Hades accepts that eternity offers no kindness, just an endless stream of reminders she left behind.
Chaos, take me. I am ready.
As she relaxes into the crushing grip of Kronos' palm, Hades closes her eyes on the blackened skies over Olympus. She’s ready, and leans into her defeat.
“Put her down you piece of shit!” Kore’s voice snaps Hades to attention. Her eyes fly open, and she takes in the annoyed scowl that crosses her father’s face.
In his eyes, cosmos are born and die. Exploding stars dance around Kronos' dark irises—his rage a destruction that’s felt through the endless caverns of the heavens.
“What’s this?” Kronos' voice bleeds with displeasure. “Another insect that needs swatting?”
“No,” Hades begs, struggling against the bond of her father’s hand. “No, please, leave him alone!”
Hades loathes that she sees herself in Kronos' face. She hates that they share the same full mouth, dark hair, and nose. If the last face Kore sees is her father’s—he will suffer at the hand of a man who gave Hades her features.
As if reading her thoughts, Kronos chuckles. “You think I’ll bow to your pleas, dearest daughter? When have I ever yielded?”
Hades' loathing for Kronos intensifies. Whimpers leave her, and Hades is disgusted with her weakness. She’s showing weakness to the whole of Olympus, but worse is knowing Kore watches her defeat.
“Hades,” Kore shouts. His hope revives her yielding body and forces air into her lungs. “I won’t die here, my love! I only accept the death you grant me between your thighs!”
An amused grin lifts the corner of her mouth while Hades wriggles in Kronos' palm.
“Cerberus,” she calls for her loyal dog. His paws hit the earth of Olympus. Each thundering step rattles the ground, an earthquake of wrath that comes flying at full speed toward where Kronos holds Hades.
“You won’t win,” Kronos assures her, turning his massive body toward the creature who rushes him despite the odds.
“I will,” Hades promises. “I will win, and I will take home my consort.”
She calls forth her bident, urging it to move through her skin. The bident’s magic shoots out of Hades' flesh. Spikes pierce Kronos' hand and momentarily shock him. Kronos' hold loosens enough for Hades to fly away.
“My queen,” Minthe calls out from the ground. In his hands, he holds Hades' crown. She swoops toward him, reaching for the jewel-encrusted helm of invisibility.
As Hades lands and runs to him, she watches in horror as Minthe’s face ages before her eyes. His skin dries out and crumbles, turning to dust as a gentle wind blows Minthe away.
“No!” Hades screams, catching the weight of her diadem while she watches particles of Minthe fall through her expectant hand.
Kronos' laughter grates against Hades' senses, scraping her skin raw as she listens to his ominous threat. “Watch all that you love crumble to dust, Hades. This is your punishment for your constant defiance.”
Gripping her crown, Hades turns. Kore stands yards from her. His beautiful eyes are bright with emotion—devotion to Hades, rage, sorrow, and gratitude swirl across his face, warring to see which emotion will win. It’s dizzying, being this close to Kore after all this time. Despite their distance, Hades feels his warmth. She can smell the fresh scent of his skin. Her lips taste a kiss he’s yet to give.
Their moment is eternal and brief—a paradox of time that heals and hurts.
Hades' pain intensifies when she watches, in horror, as Kronos kicks Kore across the ground. His body crashes through a few statues and breaks the wall of Olympus' main bank.
“Kore!” she moves, with the intent of going to him, but the erosion of the ground beneath her causes Hades to scramble back. Staring at the void that rips between them, she watches as pieces of Olympus fall toward the mortal realm. There will be more dead to wait for her summons—if Hades makes her way home as a victor. Her father’s ricocheting laughter reminds Hades there’s a chance she will return to the Underworld as a captive, forced into a prison of her father’s making—a torment Kronos will, undoubtedly, enjoy for centuries.
