Kael found himself lying on his back, staring at the blue sky above him. He didn't know where he was, but he felt peaceful.
"Am I dead? Did I go to Elysium?" he muttered to himself.
He wanted to pretend for a moment that he was the one who had died—not Hades—and now he was in paradise.
He didn't fight it. He didn't want to.
As he closed his eyes, he felt a familiar warmth embracing him.
Then—a voice called out to him.
It sent a chill through his body.
The voice felt familiar.
He sat up, looking around, but he saw nothing. Then—he noticed where he was.
He was in the middle of nowhere.
He was surrounded by beautiful, tall green trees. He was standing above a river with shimmering clear water. The sky stretched endlessly, and the water reflected it perfectly, creating a flawless mirror.
Kael followed the familiar voice. He didn't question how he was able to do that. He just followed it.
He kept moving forward—but it never ended.
So he ran.
And ran.
His breath grew heavy, and his steps slowed. Exhausted, he bent down, placing his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath.
Then—he looked down.
His own reflection stared back at him.
This was the first time he had seen himself since the transformation.
He didn't recognize the person looking back at him.
He looked… grown.
He splashed water onto his face, just to check if he was going crazy.
Then—he blinked.
When his eyes opened again—his face was covered in blood.
A sharp breath caught in his throat.
The shock sent him stumbling backward.
His hands—bloody.
His heartbeat—wild, uncontrollable.
He started crawling away, his breath coming in sharp gasps.
Then—
The sky rippled. A soft tremor ran across it, barely noticeable—then another. The blue bled away.
It darkened.
Then—red.
A deep, pulsing crimson.
Kael's hands trembled.
The river beneath him stilled for a moment—then shifted.
Its color darkened—thickening—until it wasn't water anymore.
It was blood.
His stomach turned upside down.
He looked down at his hands—they were covered in blood.
His heart pounded against his chest, his breath came in uneven.
Then—the familiar voice came back.
Kael looked up—and saw himself.
"He stood there, watching."
It wasn't him, but it was. The imposter gripped the sword tight—then lunged toward Hades.
Kael wanted to stop it.
But he couldn't move.
He could only watch.
Hades just stood there, waiting, ready to take the strike.
"No, no, no. This isn't right."
"Stop it!"
His body wouldn't move.
Then—
He looked down.
He was the one holding the sword now.
He was the one striking.
His chest tightened.
"No. No, no, no."
His breath hitched. His hands were shaking. He felt the heavy blade in his grip, but he didn't remember grabbing it.
I was watching—so why am I here? Why am I the one holding the sword?
He realized—this wasn't a dream.
This already happened.
"This isn't real."
"But it was, child," the familiar voice said.
Kael relived it all again—the strike, the agony, the moment his blade sank into his father's chest.
His arms tensed, trying to pull back—but there was nothing to pull back from.
The memory was happening all over again, trapping him inside it.
He wanted to scream.
But no sound came out.
He was reliving it.
"How does it feel, child?"
Kael's breath hitched. His blood ran cold.
"Damn you, Kronos! Even after death, you won't leave me alone?"
A low, mocking laugh echoed the air.
"I will make your life miserable." Kronos' voice dripped with amusement. "Poor Hades, killed by his own son. How unlucky."
Kael clenched his jaw. His pulse thundered.
"Shut up!" he screamed.
Then—she appeared.
With a single wave of her hand, everything changed.
The sky turned blue again. The water became clear.
And her voice woke Kael up.
He was just dreaming.
He slowly opened his eyes and found himself lying on his mother's lap. His face was wet with tears.
"How long was I asleep?"
"A few hours, after you passed out."
He didn't want to move. He didn't want to.
He wanted to believe he wasn't in the Underworld.
He wanted to stay in his mother's embrace.
Kael closed his eyes, thinking.
Feeling regretful for blaming his mother—as if she could have done anything.
He accepted the fact that it was his fault.
Even she had known.
She couldn't have done anything.
She had sent him off knowing she would never see him again.
And she had accepted it.
Because that's what queens do.
As a king, a ruler, he did what he thought was best for his kingdom.
Kael's chest tightened. He sat up slowly, rubbing a hand over his face.
"I'm sorry."
"It's okay, Kael. It was not your fault," she said with a smile.
But he saw it.
He felt it.
She had let Hades go before Kael had even arrived.
She had made her peace with the pain before it even came.
And he hated that.
Not because he blamed her.
But because he understood.
He swallowed, his throat burning.
He had lost a father he barely knew.
She had lost everything.
"Mother, if I could ever bring him back… even if it cost me my life, I would—"
She stopped him before he could finish.
Then she pulled him close, holding him so tight Kael could barely breathe.
He hesitated.
Then, before he knew it, he reached forward and wrapped his arms around her.
For a brief moment, Persephone didn't move.
They stayed like that for a while.
She held him as if she had been waiting forever for this moment.
Then he pulled away, forcing a smirk. "Alright, well, that was depressing. Time for me to leave before I start writing bad poetry."
Persephone blinked. "You're leaving?"
"Just for a bit." He stretched, pretending that he was okay. "Need some air. And, you know… a place that doesn't constantly remind me of that."
She nodded.
Kael didn't want to leave her like this—all alone.
But he needed to get away from this place.
"Hey, Cyrus, are you healed up?"
The wolf growled, answering yes.
Kael crouched, scratching behind his ears. "You stay here, alright? Keep Mom safe."
Cyrus let out a quiet, low growl.
Kael smirked weakly. "Yeah, yeah. I'll be fine."
He stood up, looked at Persephone one last time.
"I'll be back soon."
Then, before he could hesitate—
He stepped into the shadows.