"C'mon, can you go any faster! It will take forever if we go this slow," Kael said.
"This is the fastest it can go," he replied.
They floated across the black, oily River Styx. While the river was hazy—too thick for Kael to see anything—Charon seemed to know where they were headed. The ferryman stood at the back, his skeletal hand holding a wooden pole as he pressed it against the water to move. They were moving, but not as fast as Kael wanted. The thick, cold air of the River Styx hit Kael in the face, along with the smell of death. He was not enjoying the ride.
"How much longer?" Kael asked, losing patience.
"Just a bit more," Charon sighed.
As they moved, something touched Kael's foot. It startled him. "What was that?"
Charon used his pole to smack it away.
"What the hell was that?" he asked.
"They are lost souls. They all died, but unlucky for them, they were not allowed to cross into the afterlife," he said.
"Why is that? Isn't your job to take them?"
"It is, but you see, Son of Hades, sometimes they don't have the payment to cross the river. There are those who defy the gods, break their laws, and are thrown here as punishment. There are some who are forgotten. In this world, a name has power. A name holds power."
"What do you mean a name has power?" he asked, confused.
They stopped for a bit, and wandering souls floated along the boat, lost and confused.
"You see that soul? It has no name, no purpose. He is lost, but as the Son of Hades, you could change that," Charon said.
Kael looked even more confused. "How?"
"Just follow your instincts."
Kael looked into his eyes, thought about it for a bit, then placed his hand forward. Out of nowhere, chains started to wrap around the soul. He didn't know how he was doing it, but it felt like the chains wrapped around his heart—a strange sensation. The chains lifted the soul up, and then memories of the soul flooded into him. He saw its whole life story. He relived that lost soul's life in seconds.
Kael teared up.
He knew its name. He knew its life.
Then, he chanted:
"From the void you came, forgotten and lost—
Born in light, drowned in sorrow,
Lost today, no hope for tomorrow.
Fate has torn your soul apart,
Then let these chains rebuild your heart."
Then, he said its name.
"Lores."
The lost soul's body rebuilt. It sat in the middle of the boat, unable to speak, but the pain was gone. The man looked happy—Kael could tell he wanted to thank him.
As they drifted along the river, more souls surrounded the boat. Their screams grew louder. Bony skeletons climbed onto the boat, trying to reach out. He wanted to help them all if he could.
He looked at them.
"One day, I will make sure you all cross. But now, I'm in a rush, so please let us pass."
The souls stopped. They slowly moved away from the boat.
The soul on the boat still stared at Kael.
"Don't worry, buddy. After Charon drops me off, he'll take you to the other side," he said softly.
The soul looked relieved.
"Hey, Charon, can I save all those souls?"
"You could. But… why?"
"You know… bigger armies. If I ever want to take over the surface."
Charon laughed.
"Don't you dare mock me. If anyone gives me a hard day, I'll be like, 'That's it, cya.'"
Charon chuckled. "You are so much like your father."
"Oh, stop it, you're making me blush."
Charon laughed louder, then said, "We are here."
They stopped. Kael stepped out of the boat and waved Charon goodbye.
The sky was extra red.
Kael's foot touched the red sand. The wind was strong, blowing sand into the air. Kael pushed himself forward.
It was endless.
The more he walked toward the hole, the harder the pull felt. Kael pushed forward. His boots started to sink into the red sand with every step. Every step seemed heavier than the next, as if the sand was trying to pull him down.
Then, in the far distance, he saw a silhouette standing in the darkness.
It was huge, towering over the desert like a giant.
As he got closer, its massive size and presence became clearer, sharper.
It was a Titan.
Kael looked at it like he was staring at a tower.
"Who are you?" he asked.
All fifty of the Titan's heads turned, looking around to figure out where the sound came from.
One of the heads asked the others, "Did you say something?"
One of the heads responded, "No."
Just like that, confusion between all fifty heads began. They were so loud that Kael couldn't hear his own voice.
Then, he shouted with all his lungs, "Shut up, all of you!"
Everyone stopped talking. Silence.
"Look down here," Kael shouted.
"Look, it's the son of the death god! He's so tiny," one of the Titan's heads laughed like a child.
"Who are you?" Kael asked.
"We are Briareus, the Hundred-Handed Guardian of the Gate of Tartarus." All fifty heads spoke at the same time.
"Cool. Now let me pass."
The colossal body, made of stone, loomed above Kael. All fifty heads stared down at him, its hundred arms resting.
No one talked. They just stared.
Then, all fifty heads spoke together.
The force almost sent Kael flying.
The ground shook. Even the air trembled.
The voice was no longer childish or normal. It was deep. Godlike.
"You wish to pass the Gate of Tartarus, Child of the Underworld. But before you do, you must answer."
"As long as it's not a fight to the death, I'm okay," he answered.
He was glad it wasn't a fight. Kael had never felt this kind of pressure before. His presence made Charon look weak.
One of the heads said, "What is it that all beings have but can never hold," then another head continued, "that fades with each passing breath, and once lost," then the next head finished the riddle, "can never be regained?"
Kael thought about it for a while. He sat on the ground, thinking.
Then, it hit him.
"Time. Everyone has it, but no one can hold it. It slips away with every breath, fading before you even realize it's gone. And once it's lost… that's it. No second chances, no way to take it back. People waste it, thinking they have more than they do. But in the end, time runs out for everyone."
"Well done." They clapped.
"Now can I pass?" he asked.
"You may. But one more riddle I want you to think about while going down there."
Kael was confused. "What is it?"
"Two shall enter the realm of the dead, but only one shall rise. The old fades, the new takes hold. A legacy passed—a fate foretold. What am I?"
The Titan used its hundred arms to pull the massive, chain-wrapped black door open.
Kael took a step forward.
All he saw was darkness.
He looked at the Titan.
"You're joking, right? There's nothing there."
Before he could finish, they pushed him into the pitch-black hole.
As he was free-falling, Cyrus swooped in and caught him.
"Thanks, buddy," he muttered. "Now, let's go."
They dove down.
The air was thick and hot—like a heat wave.
They weren't just going down on their own.
Something was pulling them.
The deeper they traveled, the darker everything got.
Screams echoed all around.
Their surroundings shifted. Twisted.
Kael didn't know if they were going up or down.
Then—
The darkness started to disappear.
He could see the ground.
The ground was uneven and jagged. A black and silver stream of water moved through the tiny cracks, giving the appearance of blood flowing through veins.
The air was thick with rot, but he moved on, following the stream.
And at the center—
A gate.
Enormous. Ancient. Forged from iron so black it seemed to devour all light around it. Symbols he couldn't read.
And standing in front of it all
A lone figure.