Six tiny, red pinpricks of light appeared in the darkness. Beneath them were set vast, slavering jaws, large enough to crush an elephant with a single bite. Three monstrous dog heads, joined at a single neck, loomed above the tiny boat. Nereal stared up at the creature defiantly. Her knuckles were white from clutching the gunnel, but her gaze did not waver. Behind her, the skeletal ferryman spoke:

"Back, Cerberus. This one has business with the master."

Growling like the heart of a thunderstorm, Cerberus slunk back into the shadow. Nereal stared fixedly at its six red eyes until the ferry turned a corner in the river and they were lost from view.

Very gently, Nereal peeled her fingers from the gunnel. She could feel her heart trembling in her chest. Taking slow, deep breaths, she crouched down in the middle of the boat. Behind her, the ferryman punted with tireless, mechanical precision.

How can he see where he's going if he doesn't have any eyes, Nereal wondered, shuddering slightly as she glanced up at that fleshless skull. Then again, if she lived in the Underworld, Nereal thought she might not want eyes. Dark shadows that might have been rocky cliffs rose up on either side of the boat. Around her, she could see vague shapes of people drifting in the misty waters of the Styx.

The ferry turned another corner. A great structure of dark rock lay ahead. It was carved in the shape of a skull, pale light shining from the eye sockets. A staircase ran up from a jetty at the bottom of the skull, curving round to a door hidden at the rear.

The ferry pulled up alongside it. Nereal looked round. The ferryman's eyeless sockets were turned towards her.

"Charon!"

Nereal turned. Two little imps, one blue, one pink, were clattering down the stairs towards the jetty.

"What's going on?" the blue imp asked. It was thin and pointed, with bulbous yellow eyes. Its voice was a grating whine.

"You weren't told to bring anyone here!" said the pink imp. It was the opposite of its companion: squat and tubby, with a throaty voice.

"She had the fare" the ferryman rasped.

"And-and, she's alive!" the blue imp gasped.

Nereal saw this was the moment for her to speak up:

"I am here to see Hades."

The imps flinched. They seemed frightened to even look at her.

"You c-can't," the blue imp ventured, but Nereal cut him off:

"You can, and you will. I am here to see your master. Now take me to him!"

The imps whimpered and took a few steps back. Drawing herself up as tall as she could (which was not very impressive, truth be told, but she still towered over the imps), Nereal stepped out of the boat.

"Lead on," she said imperiously. The imps exchanged a glance, then turned and scurried up the stairs ahead of her.

Nereal kept a few paces behind the imps. Checking carefully to make sure that they were not looking at her, she discreetly adjusted her dress. It was a light garment, sky blue, that complimented her pale complexion and bright hair, the colour of the noon sun. It was low cut, although there was not much to reveal: Nereal had always been slim. She was, however, pretty, and she knew it. What she didn't know was how much use her looks would be when dealing with a god. Zeus had an eye for the ladies, everyone knew that, but this one…

"Wait here," the blue imp instructed. They had reached the very top of the staircase, where it curled round and through a narrow opening in the rock. The two imps disappeared inside. The soft murmur of voices could be heard coming from within. Nereal waited.

Flames burst from opening. Nereal leapt back, throwing her hands up to protect her face. A heartbeat later and all was still. Curiosity beating down common sense, Nereal peered through the opening.

A high domed chamber lay on the other side. Two huge windows (the 'sockets' of the skull Nereal had seen on her approach) flanked a great throne of dark metal. The two imps were grovelling before the throne, the tips of their tails and ears smouldering gently. Looming over them was the figure of Hades, lord of the dead. His whole body seemed to be aflame. He was screaming at the imps:

"… and you let her in?! You useless, moronic, toads! When I'm through with you, the deepest pits of Tartarus are gonna seem like a pleasant spring break!"

Hades raised his arms, flames gathering around his hands. The imps whimpered and crouched lower. Nereal saw her moment.

"Hades," she said, gliding into the chamber. She moved gracefully; as soft and subtle the wind rustling through the long grass. Her look was commanding, though her mind was all but blank with terror.

Hades froze. The fire that burned across his body settled into a cool blue tremor flickering across his shoulders. The top of his bald head was crowned with a sapphire flames.

"A nymph…" he said softly. The look on his long blue face was hungry as she moved towards him. The two imps took advantage of this distraction to flee discreetly from the chamber.

"I am Nereal, of the Hyades. I come to petition you, mighty Hades."

Nereal curtsied, smiling coyly. Hades's mouth spilt into a sharp-toothed grin. Nereal suppressed a shudder.

"Why have you come to me?" Hades asked, settling down on the dark throne at the far end of the room.

"I don't see many nymphs in my line of work. Shouldn't you be talking to Aphrodite, or one of those Olympus babes?"

"They would not grant what I ask," said Nereal.

"And even if they would," she said, fixing him with a determined gaze, "I want to be sure that it will be granted. Don't the human philosophers say that there is nothing as inevitable as death?"

Hades's grin widened.

"Flattery will get you everywhere, babe" he said, "Shoot."

So Nereal began to explain. Standing before the throne of death himself, she spoke of her love for the mortal, Iolaus.

Iolaus… The mere thought of him made her blood run hot. She had first seen him when he had become lost on a high hill. It was during a thunder storm and he was without a cloak, the rain plastering his tunic to his torso. Since then Nereal had taken to following him. He was a simple shepherd and Nereal had spent many an hour watching him, as he sat guarding his flocks. She had studied every line of physique, admiring his straight and handsome features, or his sculpted, muscular limbs. Nereal wanted him. She ached for him. Her desire burned her. It smouldered in her gut and clouded her mind with self-pitying thoughts.

But she could not have him. His heart was given to another. He was in love, so totally and utterly that when Nereal had appeared to him, disguised a shepherdess, he had not even so much as glanced in her direction.

Nereal had seen the girl he loved. Megara was her name. She lived with her aged parents in one of the nearby villages. She was dark and beautiful and happy and free spirited and for all these things Nereal hated her. Now she burned with a double fire. Her hatred for Megara nearly outstripped her desire for Iolaus: the very sight of her filled Nereal's mouth with bile.

"So, lord Hades, I have come to ask for your aid against this woman. Give me the means to destroy her. I will pay any price!" she finished.

Hades drew himself up. He did not have feet; his grey robe simply devolved into a cloud of smoke where it touched the ground. Were there legs under that robe, Nereal wondered? He did not so much walk as drift towards her.

"You got guts, babe, I'll give you that" he said, moving to stand behind Nereal. She felt his thin, bony fingers resting on her shoulder: they were surprisingly cold.

"No, seriously: you got guts," Hades continued, "Not many people could have got all the way down here. But I'm afraid I'm gonna have to say 'no'."

Nereal's mouth snapped open to offer some retort. Hades cut her off before she had a chance to speak:

"You see, I got this whole taking-over-the-cosmos scheme I'm workin' on, and your request just doesn't figure into it."

"I will give you anything, even my heart!" Nereal snarled, her composure dropping for a moment. The sly grin on Hades's face disappeared.

"Not something I think I'd want, babe. Now, you'd better go, before you leave here with less than you came with."

Nereal considered Hades for a moment: his eyes were hard and dark. She would get nothing further from him. Although she could not disguise the flush of anger in her cheeks, she retained her imperious bearing as she curtsied and backed out of the room.

Her foot was on the topmost step when she heard voices coming from inside the chamber. The two imps had not passed her to re-enter; Hades must have some new visitors. Her curiosity once again silencing the voice of common sense, Nereal crept back to the opening and peered into the room beyond.

Hades was once again seated on his throne. Two slender figures were standing before him. They were both wearing long black coats, with the hoods pulled down low to conceal their faces.

"I already told you, Saïx, I'm not interested in working with your crackpot Organization," said Hades, addressing one of the hooded figures.

"I assure you," said the one Hades had addressed as Saïx, "you will be more co-operative when you hear what I have to say."

"I doubt it," said Hades, drumming his fingers on the arm of the throne.

"The Organisation's resources are considerable," Saïx continued as if Hades had not spoken, "and our research has been extensive."

He had a level, monotone voice, as if in a stupor.

"We have discovered things that we suspect no living being has ever known: even the gods."

"Get to the point," Hades growled.

"Vexen," Saïx said. The second hooded figure took a step towards Hades.

"We have been interested in you Olympians for several years now, especially your apparent immortality" said the hooded figure. He was male, with a high, laconic voice.

"Although my experiments have not been nearly as extensive as I would have liked," Vexen continued, "I have been able to synthesize this."

Reaching into his coat Vexen produced a little red bottle, sculpted in the shape of a skull.

"I will not reveal the process that was used to create this," said Vexen, holding up the bottle, "suffice to say that it was complicated in the extreme. The result: if consumed, in its entirety, the potion will reduce an Olympiad to the status of an ordinary being. In short: it turns them into a mortal."

Nereal gasped, then darted back, terrified she would be discovered. Luckily for her, Hades had let out a cry of surprise at the exact same moment. No wonder: to rob a god of his immortality was unthinkable! Nereal could barely grasp the concept: for a god to become mortal would be worse than death. Slinking back to the doorway, Nereal resumed her eavesdropping. Saïx was speaking again:

"I understand that you harbor some form of grudge against your brother, Zeus. With this chemical, you could –"

"Destroy him forever!" crowed Hades, unable to contain his excitement. He regained his composure in a heartbeat, but the moment had passed: now Saïx had control.

"OK, I can see where this is going," said Hades sullenly, realizing that he had lost the initiative, "Spill: what do you want in return for the potion?"

"The nymph who visited you," said Saïx, "You are to grant her request."

Nereal bit her lip. What interest could these two strangers have in her, or her problems? She had never met them before. On the other hand, what did it matter, if they were bargaining for her? She would have her revenge, and Iolaus.

"What?" said Hades, evidently as surprised as Nereal herself, "What do you want with her?"

"That does not concern you," said Saïx bluntly, "Our offer is simple: you will help the nymph to whatever end she desires and, in return, we will give you the potion."

Hades' hand shot out.

"Deal," he said, his hungry gaze fixed on the bottle. Saïx gave a soft grunt that might have been a laugh.

"You will have the potion when she has what she wants. Not before."

The flames on Hades head and shoulders flickered red for a moment, but he did not move.

"OK," he snarled, "we'll play by your rules."

He held out his hand to Saïx. The hooded man took it in his. Shadows rose around the two hooded men. Nereal lost sight of them against the darkness. Seconds later, the shadows had dropped away; Saïx and Vexen were nowhere to be seen.

Hades sat scowling, fingers drumming on the arm of his throne. Nereal watched breathlessly. The moment seemed to stretch out for hours. Then Hades leaned forward.

"Pain! Panic!" he shouted.

Nereal sudden realized the danger she was in. If the two imps came back up the stairs and found her listening at the door, they would certainly tell Hades. How would he feel about being spied on, or about his conversation with the hooded men? Nereal didn't want to find out. Thinking quickly, she hitched up her skirt and rushed halfway down the stairs. Digging her nails into her palms to produce real tears, she dropped onto the steps, arms folded When the imps rounded the corner a moment later, they found her weeping heartily.

Pain and Panic scuttled past her and up to their master's chamber. A minute or so passed, and then they were back beside her, urging her to return with them. At first she feigned reluctance, but eventually allowed herself to be persuaded.

She found Hades standing, hands folded behind his back, gazing out through one of the two great windows. He turned to face her as she entered, looking as casual as possible.

"It's your lucky day, babe," he said, "I've reconsidered."

"Y-you mean, you'll help?" Nereal sniffed, wiping an imaginary tear from her cheek.

"Got it in one," Hades smiled, crossing the chamber towards her, "You see, I managed to… acquire some love potions from Aphrodite a while back; thought they might come in handy.

"Here's the plan: Pain and Panic will distract the other babe, while you slip your guy a potion. It doesn't last long, but you'll get at least one night with him. Next morning, Megara walks in, finds you two together. You have your fun, those two break up: everyone's happy. Well… you are."

Nereal considered the proposal. It was as good as anything she had expected. But now she had real bargaining power: Hades had agreed to do anything she wanted, so that he could the potion from Saïx. She could use that.

"No…" she said at length, "I want her to suffer. I want you to destroy her."

For a moment, Hades's face was contorted into a snarl. Then his easy grin slid back into place. Nereal could almost see the thought passing through his head: remember the potion.

"I'll see what I can do," he said.

The sound of the rockslide echoed through the narrow gorge. Many miles away, shepherds mistook the sound for thunder and gazed up in confusion at the clear summer's sky. Megara knew better: she had been sitting on the other side of the hill, waiting for Iolaus to return. Turning, she rushed up the slope, leaving Iolaus's flock to graze sleepily on the pasture.

"Oh please let him be alright," she prayed softly to any god that might be listening. He had only been gone for a few minutes, following that missing lamb. If anything had happened to him…

Half sliding, half running, she descended the far slope of the hill. At the bottom was a steep, rocky slope, leading into the gorge. Leaning out over the lip, Megara could see where Iolaus had fallen, half buried under a great pile of loose stone. Lowering herself carefully down, she ran to his side.

"Iolaus! Oh, Iolaus!" she cried. He gave no response. Megara could feel the blood thundering in her ears. Kneeling down, she pressed a tentative hand to his neck. His pulse was very faint, and his breathing shallow.

A voice startled her:

"Oooh, that's gotta hurt!"

Megara swung round. She gasped. Hades was standing behind her, regarding her with faint interest.

"Hey," he said, holding out his hand, "name's Hades, lord of the dead, how're you doin'?"

Megara's mouth flapped silently for a moment before she found her voice:

"What… why are you here?"

"It's true I don't normally put in personal appearances," said Hades, "but the Underworld is kinda dead, so I like to get out every once in a while."

Megara gasped:

"You mean he's…"

"Dying? Yep," Hades said, grinning broadly.

The colour drained from Megara's face.

"You… you can't," she said, suddenly angry,

"You can't take him!" she screamed.

"Hey, whoa, calm down!" said Hades, throwing up his hands, "I'm not the bad guy here: blame the thirty tones of rock that fell on him. I'm just the repo' man."

"Please, don't take him," Megara cried, falling to her knees, "I beg you, let him live!"

Hades's smile did not waver.

"Sorry, babe, no can do. I'm due one soul."

Megara looked up at him, wiping away the tears that veiled her eyes.

"A… a soul?"

"Yep"

"Does it… matter who's?"

"Well his, for preference, but it doesn't really matter, so long as the balance is maintained."

"Then… then take mine," said Megara, fiercely.

"Yours?" said Hades, surprised.

"In exchange for his life," said Megara, "You can have my soul, if you let him live."

Hades frowned, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. Iolaus gave a weak cough.

"Please!" Megara cried, "before it's too late!"

"OK, babe, here's the deal" said Hades suddenly "You sell me your soul; an eternity's service. In return, I let your boyfriend live. You got that?"

Megara did not answer. She glanced down at Iolaus, then back at Hades.

"The clock is ticking…" he said, holding out his hand. After a long moment, Megara held out her hand:

"Deal"

Hades grasped her hand. His grip was freezing cold, and hard as iron. Light flashed from their interlocked hands. Then, Hades let his hand fall. Megara doubled over, retching.

"Pleasure doing business with you, babe," Hades said, smiling.

"You… promised," Megara gasped, glaring up at him. It felt like someone had reached inside and filled her chest and stomach with snow, so cold that it made her sick.

Hades clicked his fingers. The rocks that were pressing down on Iolaus turned to smoke, drifting away on the wind. Megara ran to his side and raised him up.

"Iolaus, are you alright?" she asked. Iolaus gazed up at her. His eyes were blank, as if he did not recognize her.

"Iolaus…" said Megara, fearfully, "Iolaus, what's wrong?"

"Nereal!" he gasped, looking over Megara's shoulder. Megara turned. A short, slender girl was approaching them, her blonde hair tied back from her face. Megara was so baffled by her sudden appearance that she did not notice the empty phial that Nereal let slip from her fingers as she moved towards Iolaus.

"Iolaus, darling," she said softly. She did not even glance at Megara. Iolaus pushed himself to his feet. Shouldering Megara out of the way, he sprang to Nereal's side, throwing his arms around her.

"Iolaus!" Megara shouted, starting after him. She gasped as Hades's bony hand seized her wrist.

"Leave it," Hades snarled, as she struggled futilely.

Iolaus pressed Nereal close, their lips locked together. Megara screamed at them, cursing violently, but they did not heed her.

Nereal broke away first. She pressed a finger to Iolaus's eager lips.

"Hold that thought" she murmured. Turning, she approached Megara. Hades's hand flashed down and caught Megara's other wrist, pinning her arms behind her back. Nereal stopped just before her, her pretty face split into a crocodile's leer. Megara threw herself at her, but Hades' hold on her was too strong. All she could do was howl and curse.

Nereal opened her mouth, doubtless to mock or taunt her, but no sound left her lips. She paused, frowning. She tried again and vomited shadow. It was only a small blob at first, a strange mixture of liquid and gas, as black as the night, but soon it was more. Now the leering grin became a wide-lipped scream of terror, as darkness poured out of Nereal's throat. It rolled down her, pooling at her feet. In ten seconds it covered her entire body. Another ten seconds and Nereal had vanished, dissolved into formless shadow.

Hades raised an eyebrow:

"Well, that was different."

Nereal woke to find herself on a wide plaza on yellow stone. Tentatively, she raised her head. Buildings of red brick surrounded her on all sides. Two roads, one running uphill, the other down, were at opposite corners. Across the rooftops, she could see the evening sky and many white roofs.

Nereal had traveled widely throughout Greece: why did she not recognize this town? Could this be another world entirely?

Why did she not feel surprise, or fear at this idea, she wondered. She could remember what fear felt like but, even when she tried, she could not force a genuine emotion to rise within her. She considered what had happened in the gorge: the pleasure at having manipulated the mighty Hades, the triumph of wounding Megara so deeply, the sweet elation of Iolaus's embrace. She remembered all these things, and yet the memories stirred no emotion. It was as if there was a space inside her, a hole from which her emotions had been ripped.

"Stand up."

Nereal turned. A man, dressed in a long black coat, was watching her across the plaza.

"Stand up," he repeated, more forcefully. Slowly, Nereal raised herself. There was no mistaking it: he was wearing the same uniform as Saïx and Vexen, although his voice, deep and rich, told her that he was a different person.

"Do you feel it, Nobody?" he asked. His hood was down, revealing a strong brown face, framed with silver hair.

"Nobody…?" Nereal asked, playing dumb while she considered the situation. This man was almost certainly working with Saïx and Vexen: it could not be a coincidence. What did these strangers in black coats want from her? They had encouraged Hades to help her. Perhaps they had known what was going to happen to her?

"The emptiness that is the curse of all Nobodies," the stranger replied, "The yawning void left when our hearts were torn from our body, as food for the darkness."

"You mean my heart is… gone?" Nereal said. Could she trust the people who had actively guided her here, for their own mysterious purpose?

"Yes: swallowed, when your Other's delight in a woman's pain became so great that the shadow she had created in her heart overwhelmed her entirely."

"My Other…? Then, who am I?" Nereal asked.

"You are her Nobody: a shell, nothing more."

"But… why am I here? Shouldn't I be dead?"

"You have a strong will: you endured, despite the darkness. And you may endure yet," said the stranger, "I am the leader of an Organisation of Nobodies. We are working to discover a way to restore our hearts, and become Somebodies again. I have come here to offer you the opportunity to join us."

So that was their plan all along, thought Nereal. They wanted another Nobody for their team, and they were willing to let my Other destroy herself to get it. Nereal felt no anger, or pain as these thoughts passed through her mind: she analyzed them with a coldness that would have been sickening to a Somebody.

"Will you join us?" the stranger asked, obviously perturbed by her silence.

Nereal knew what her Other would have done: spit in his eye and walk away. She was not her Other, though. Here was an opportunity to take true revenge. She could work against them from within, and bring their plans crashing down around them. Perhaps, she thought, perhaps when I see it happen, I may actually feel pleasure again.

"Count me in," she said, with a crooked smile. The stranger returned it, equally humorless:

"Welcome to the Organisation, Number Twelve: Larxene"