Kael soared through the palace, zipping through the sky. Below, undead soldiers stared up at him, their hollow eyes following his movement. From the balcony, his mother stood in sorrow, watching with a heavy gaze. Kael gave her one final wave before speeding toward the gates of Tartarus.
The air grew heavier as they moved further from the palace.The wind pushed against them, slowing them down.
They flew higher, faster. Suddenly, the atmosphere changed. Kael realized that something wasn't right. He didn't feel safe like he felt while he was near his palace. He felt like he was in someone else's domain now. As they travelled, the feeling of being watched crept up on him like something was trying to prevent them from moving forward.
The air grew heavier and colder as they got closer to the River Styx.
It wasn't the kind of cold that made his body shiver. It was something completely different, a feeling he had never experienced before.
A strange, unnatural feeling.
Like whispers in the air, brushing against his skin. Clawing at his thoughts.
Cyrus growled softly, sensing the same thing.
Kael gripped Cyrus tighter.
"Keep going."
The palace faded into the mist.
He looked at Cyrus and muttered, "There's no turning back now."
Cyrus growled as if agreeing.
From above, Kael saw small creeks flowing through the Underworld.
He realized that those creeks would lead him to the River Styx, so he followed.
They flew nonstop, but it never seemed to end.
Over time, Cyrus struggled to fly straight. The air was getting heavier—thicker with something invisible. It started getting foggy, making it harder for them to see where they were going. The flap of his wings slowed down. Kael realized that they were fighting against a strange force that was pressing down on them.
And from below, something was pulling at them.
Dragging them down.
He became aware that he was not welcome here, and it was not safe to fly.
So he said, "Cyrus, let's land here."
Cyrus let out a sharp breath. "You sure?" Worry filled his eyes.
But he didn't want to leave Kael alone, as if he knew what awaited ahead.
Kael reassured him. "I need you to rest. I'll walk until you recover."
They landed.
He got off Cyrus.
The moment his feet touched the ground, a sudden thumping flowed through his feet. It was like a heartbeat, like it was alive. He forced himself to ignore it and focus on his task, but now the feeling of someone watching him intensified.
He kept on moving farther, deeper into the land, never looking back. The ground was covered with a thin layer of black dust that clung to his feet like a magnet, making it difficult for him to walk. Some places were soft, and some were solid.
The air became thicker. Then, an invisible weight started to press down on him. Every step made it feel as though he was sinking into the ground even more. He started to get frustrated.
He tried to ignore it and continued to walk.
But as he took a big breath, he finally understood. "You won't stop me."
He continued walking deeper.
The environment began to change.
The sky glowed deep red, pulsing over the horizon. Thick, swirling clouds hid whatever lay beyond them.
Kael kept moving, following the creek.
The air grew even heavier. His shoulders ached.
His lungs burned with every breath.
Every step took more effort.
The weight pressed down on him.
After what felt like ages, he finally got to the shoreline. The Styx went on and on. There was no end to it. It got even foggier—he could barely see anything.
The ground under him became darker, damp as he got closer to the River Styx.
The air smelled like burned metal and rotten flesh, as if the ground had been soaked in blood for centuries. The smell was so strong that it stuck to his skin.
He couldn't go any further.
He had to fly over.
But his vision started to blur. His breath slowed.
He hadn't eaten anything for a day. He didn't even finish the snacks Liz gave him. He regretted it.
His stomach felt empty.
His throat and lips felt dry.
There was nothing near.
The only thing around him was the water, but he wasn't sure if he could drink any.
His stomach rumbled. "I get it, you're hungry."
He hesitated. But he had no choice.
He took a sip—
Then spat it out immediately.
It burned like molten lava. His mouth went numb.
His tongue lost all feeling.
He coughed, trying to get rid of the awful taste—
Then chains shot out of the water, wrapping around his arm and yanking him down.
Kael's heart pounded. He struggled, trying to pull free, but the chains held tight.
The water was pitch black.
Another chain shot out, wrapping around his other arm.
Then more chains.
They climbed up his body, binding him, lifting him off the ground.
Kael was suspended in the air.
Then—from the water—something rose.
A figure.
A wraith-like skeletal warrior.
Its torn, ragged coat hung from its frame, ancient and decayed. Its eye sockets were empty, but inside them, a weak, sinister light flickered. Thick chains coiled around its arms and torso, glowing with cursed fire.
As the creature fully emerged, Cyrus growled loudly.
Kael stayed calm.
"Not yet."
The figure floated closer. With one bony finger, it lifted Kael's chin.
"Why are you in my domain, Son of Hades?"
"None of your business. Now, let me pass?" Kael asked.
The figure scoffed.
"You dare speak to me that way? I am Charon the Freeman—the guardian of this domain."
"I don't care, now let go of me."
The chains tightened.
Kael screamed in pain. The metal burned into his skin.
Cyrus snapped.
He burst from the shadows, lunging at Charon—
But failed.
Charon caught him, wrapped him in chains, and hurled him to the side, smashing him into the jagged rocks.
Kael's shadows writhed.
They twisted uncontrollably.
They gathered around him, shifting, pulsing, growing darker.
Kael's eyes burned with rage.
"I'll kill you." His voice was low.
"I'll erase you."
Charon laughed.
"You? A mere demigod—"
Before he could finish, Kael ripped his right arm free.
He grabbed Shadowbind and raised it high.
His crimson-red eyes blazed.
"You dare touch him?" His voice deepened.
With all his strength, he swung downward—
The blade slammed into Charon's shoulder, sending him crashing into the River Styx.
The chains on Kael's left arm stayed locked, holding him.
Kael clenched his fist, gripping the chain that was still attached to his left arm.
"I know you're not dead. Get up, you damn skeleton."
Silence.
Then—from below—Charon's voice echoed through the darkness.
"Don't get cocky, Son of the Cursed God."
Kael scowled.
"Shut up and come up, or I'll pull yo ass up myself."
"Yes, embrace it."
"Shut up, you talk too much."
He took deep breaths. Then, with all his strength—
"Get over here."
Kael yanked the chain, dragging Charon out of the water. As Charon rocketed up, Kael swung, his fist connecting with full force. The impact sent Charon flying across the River Styx, skipping like a stone.
"What you did is unforgivable!" he shouted, pulling Charon toward him again to the shore.
As he pulled him in, Kael clasped his hands together.
Then, with all his strength—
He slammed Charon's face into the ground.
Kael jumped on top of him and started throwing a barrage of punches, cracking his skull, his jaw.
"How dare you—how dare you lay hands on him!"
Charon hissed.
"Don't get cocky, boy."
He grabbed Kael by the throat while he was in the middle of his attacks and lifted him into the air.
"You are not strong," he said softly.
Then, he punched him in the gut, sending him flying into the sky.
The punch knocked the air out of him.
Kael gasped.
The chains were still attached.
Charon smirked.
Then—he yanked the chain downward.
Kael plummeted.
Falling fast.
Like a meteor.
Splashing into the River Styx.