Hades.. God of the underworld.

The Underworld did not change. It did not breathe, and it did not forget. Rivers moved through black stone, the dead drifted in endless silence, and deep within an obsidian palace Hades ruled it all with the same quiet patience he had held for millennia. Nothing surprised him anymore—so when the ancient bond he shared with his guardian suddenly flickered, he looked up. “Cerberus,” he murmured. The great hound should have been at the gates, unmoving, watching. Instead, what reached him was something strange: curiosity.

Far above, in lonely hills where caves cut deep into the mountains, Phia stepped into a sunlit clearing and stopped. Near the mouth of a cave stood a dog. Except it wasn’t a dog. It was enormous, shoulders as tall as a horse. For a moment she simply stared—then one head lifted, then another, then a third. Six golden eyes looked straight at her. “…What are you?” she whispered.

Cerberus had smelled her long before she entered the clearing. Living humans usually meant intruder. But this one didn’t scream or run. She only stared at him with open curiosity. One head sniffed the air, another watched her closely, the third slowly turned toward the cave behind them. Then Cerberus stepped back.

Phia frowned immediately. “Oh no,” she muttered. “You don’t get to look like that and just leave.” The great hound retreated another step into the shadows, careful to remain visible. Waiting. Phia hesitated only a second before curiosity won. “Well… now I have to know.”

She followed him into the cave. At first it was only stone, damp air, and the echo of her footsteps—but the deeper she walked, the colder it grew, the sunlight behind her fading until it was only a pale memory. Cerberus glanced back once to make sure she was still there, then continued forward, leading her deeper into the dark.

Far below the earth, Hades slowly rose from his throne. Cerberus was not hunting. He was leading—and someone alive was following him into the Underworld.

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