Click. Click. Click.

Jagged turns around to his lead guitarist. Walking down the halls of his kingdom, Luka seems to be uncomfortable for once. The underworld is no place for a musician, and yet, he's the king of it. As God of the Underworld, Hell is his righteous home.

"Why so down, your majesty?" Jagged calls. His question lulls Luka out of his mind.

"Don't call me that, Jag," Luka huffs. "I just hate being home is all."

"You're getting too used to the mortal realm. You can't live in the rockstar fantasy twenty-four seven, Luka."

"I know."

Jagged smiles and looks at the obsidian walls surrounding him. "This place is beautiful. Now I see why you've resided here for thousands of years. Only thing that could make it better would be... maybe some life. You're a wonderful king though."

"Who says so? You're not one of my subjects."

As the God of Music, Jagged can't die nor can he be truly harmed. His body will automatically heal itself within a few days.

"No, but ghosty over there is," he sneers, pointing to the soul watching them from afar. Luka sighs and strides down the Kingdom Hall.

"You," he calls. "Why aren't you working?"

"Ah, ah. The holy maiden Tikki has told me to inform you of the upcoming ceremony. The King of the Underworld and the Musician are required to attend," the soul murmurs.

Luka lifts an eyebrow. "Ceremony?"

"Ah, right. Tikki's daughter, Marinette, has come of age to receive her title," Jagged recalls.

"Tikki has a daughter?" Luka asks.

Jagged shrugs. "Technically, yes. She didn't want to go through the pregnancy process, so she implanted her child in the Demigod Sabine. She's a minor Demigod, married to another one named Tom. They both live in the mortal realm. Paris, I think."

"Do they know?"

"Of course they know, Luka. How could they not? Marinette has the blood of Tikki, but she gained the appearances of Tom and Sabine. Must've been a pretty epic mix. She's being declared the Goddess of Luck, like her mother, the Goddess of Beauty and another missing sector they have yet to figure out."

Luka's breath is caught in his throat. "She's a trisector? The only other trisector is..."

"Tikki herself."

Tikki and Plagg, the main rulers of the realms, are the two most powerful beings to ever exist. Tikki, the Goddess of Fortune, Marriage and Creation, is the only deity to possess the power of three sectors - or was.

"Another trisector Goddess... Could this mean a war? That much power..."

Jagged laughs. "Luka, bud, slow it down. From what I've heard, this Marinette girl couldn't harm a fly."

"How do they not know her other sector?" Luka questions.

"Well, seeing that sectors are discovered by what we control, they must've not been able to find out what it is. It could be something minor such as the weather. Or something major such as the lives of the mortals."

"Let's hope it's something minor. She already has two other very powerful sectors. A third could mean trouble."

"Whatever you say. When's that ceremony again?"

"The twentieth sunset of December," the soul answers.

"So about a week from now. Coolio. Luka, if you're done wondering about mystery girl, I think I'm ready to go back to the mortal realm," Jagged says.

Luka nods and transports them back to their shared apartment. Their clothes are automatically changed; Luka goes from a king's tunic to a pair of skinny jeans, a hoodie and a pair of sneakers. Jagged, on the other hand, goes from a business suit to pajama pants and a tank top.

"Finally," Jagged sighs, stretching out. "Comfortable clothes!"

"No one says you have to wear that damn suit, y'know," Luka retorts. "At least you're not stuck wearing a damn dress in front of everyone."

"You can change out of that anytime you want!"

"But I have to put it right back on when a new soul arrives for judgement. There's no use."

"True."

Luka plops down into the couch and leans back. "We were gone for what? Four days?"

"Yup. That means our next tour starts in about a week."

"Damn. That ceremony is around then."

"I think it's a day before the tour begins. We should be fine."

"Hope so."

Jagged yawns and uses a pillow to cover his face. "I'm gonna nap."

"I think I'm going to the bar. Need a drink," Luka says.

"Bring me back one!"

"No. Get up and get it yourself."

"You're mean to me."

Luka snickers and gets up from the couch. He grabs his apartment keys, shoving them in his pocket before heading out the door. Walking down the avenue sidewalk, Luka watches the surrounding mortals curiously. Lucky for him, they only recognize him as the famous Luka Couffaine and not the God of the Underworld. Otherwise, they'd be running. Sometimes even deities don't recognize each other in this realm.

His eyes land on the couple in front of him. They're walking much too slow for his pace, but he doesn't mind. Their fingers are interlaced, and giggles fill the air. The look they're giving each other suggests that Rose, his sister-in-law, had shot them with one of her arrows. As the Goddess of Romance, she was in control of every couple that grazed the planet excluding supernatural relationships. The deities can't control their sector over each other, but once they have that sector, no one else can have it. For example, once the Goddess of Beauty is born, there will never be a more beautiful being. Said Goddess isn't able to control other deities' appearances. That was the worst part of being a God. Rose could never get someone to fall in love with Luka. There had been a few mortals here and there, but he'd never let it get serious. He didn't want to love someone just to watch them grow old and die. He wants a Goddess to love him; he wants a Queen.

Luka arrives at the local bar and slips in.

"Lukaaaa! How have ya been?"

Matt's familiar voice brings a smile to his face. His favorite bartender had become a close friend of his almost immediately. The Irish man was too kind for his own good.

"Still lookin' for a lady?" Matt asks.

"You know it."

"Well, damn. Ya just missed it. Was a real pretty lass in here a few min's ago. Could outdo any Kim K."

Luka raises an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"I'd of asked 'er out myself if I didn't have a girlie. Big ol' doe eyes the color of million dollar aquamarine. Dewy, moonlight skin and lips so luscious I thought I was in heaven. A beautiful lass. Delicate... Fragile. But sexy. Had this mysterious aura to 'er."

"Sounds like she'd be a keeper."

"With ya looks like that, ya'd score 'er like a hockey puck. Though just ta warn ya. She's yee tall," Matt says, holding his hand far below Luka's head. "Tiny, tiny compared to ya. Best be careful with a figure like 'ers. Could snap 'er like a twig."

"The way you're talking about this girl, you'd think I was gonna marry her."

Matt laughs. "Well, if ya do, I best be invited. Now. What can I get ya?"

"The usual."