Been waiting for a Hades fanfiction, but none were forthcoming, so here's my take on it. Before I get crucified at the stake, I should say that I'm an anime-only pleb that's only ever watched one season so far, with the Danmachi wikia my only resource.
It was meant to be a day like any other. He'd done it so many times before with no major changes to his routine, that he could reduce it all to a simple checklist.
Fight his way out of Tartarus, have a quick brawl with the Furies. Navigate his way through Asphodel, give Lernie a good old-fashioned beatdown. Spare a moment to admire the landscape of Elysium, before proceeding to carve a path through his Father's domain into the Grand Arena, where he would once again do battle with Theseus and Asterius.
Finally, enter the Temple of Styx, clear out the satyr infestation that always stubbornly returned with each of his escape attempts, bribe Cerberus with treats from the satyr sack. Then, enter the surface world where Father would inevitably be waiting for him, adorned in a red cloak that he would promptly reduce to cinders after a snide exchange or two.
From there, Zagreus would either fall before the mighty Gigaros, spear of Hades, or vanquish his father to have a quiet few moments exploring the world of mortals before succumbing to the flow of the Styx. Return to the House of Hades, drawn of the currents of the River of the Dead, pet Cerberus like the good boy that he is, have a quick chat with one of the members of his House, and then make preparations to begin the process all over again. Rinse, and repeat.
That had been his routine for the longest time. It hadn't always started like that – before he learnt the truth of his mother, he had resented his Father and his place in the Underworld, always longing for the mysteries of the surface world. In time, however, after his mother Persephone returned to her rightful place as Queen of the Underworld, and after they had made reconciled with the Gods of Olympus over the events that preceded his birth, he began to settle into his position as full-time tester of the so-called 'inescapable' Underworld.
Sure, he still desired to learn more about mortals, to see with his own eyes how they went about their lives after hearing stories of them from former mortals as Achilles, Orpheus, and Sisyphus, but all things considered his present routine wasn't all that bad. That being said, it was quickly becoming stale.
Things occasionally broke his routine – he had, for example, more recently learned to call upon the Infernal Arms from within him after seeing his father summon Gigaros from nothingness one too many times. Then there was that time when he had somehow gotten himself killed in the first chamber of Tartarus immediately adjacent to the House of Hades, and been subject to snide remarks and concerned words from his friends and family for some time. Still, though – it was predictable, and it was starting to get boring.
Thus, when after Zagreus had sent Hades once more back to the realm that he held dominion over, and he chanced upon a familiar swirling mass of darkness that marked a Chaos Gate just at the boundary into the snowy landscape of Greece beyond, he'd immediately shrugged his shoulders, braced himself, and descended into the void beyond.
Zagreus had expected to meet Master Chaos, just as he had in every other occasion that he'd descended into one of the gates of the realm of the Original Progenitor. Perhaps spare the time to gift them with another bottle of Nectar he'd claimed from one of the many stashes of contraband from within Tartarus, or another draft of Ambrosia that he'd claimed from Theseus after defeating the Hero of Elysium yet again.
Instead, rather than being greeted by Chaos – or even entering the ever-shifting realm of Chaos – he found himself summarily deposited into a cave-like subterranean dwelling not unlike Tartarus or Asphodel. Of course, after countless escape attempts – both before and after they'd been officially sanctioned by his Father – he knew that this place was decidedly not either of those two locations, even after accounting for how the landscape of the Underworld constantly morphed and shifted each time he passed their walls.
That was, of course, when he found himself beset by unfamiliar creatures that didn't look in the slightest bit to be keen on making friends (based on the way they growled and bared weapons at him and all), and he immersed himself into the craft he excelled best at.
"Where even is this place?" he muttered under his breath, Stygius, Blade of the Underworld, clenched tightly in hand, as he delivered quick death to yet another one of these strange green, miniature, deformed-looking creatures that emerged from one of many holes in the cavernous walls around him. "Hello? Master Chaos? Are you in here?"
He dodged a clumsy, poorly-telegraphed lunge from the tiny pathetic-looking monster, parting head from torso with a quick swing of his sword. Idly, as he tumbled aside to avoid the strike of another one of its peers, he noted that both halves of the decapitated body promptly disintegrated into nothingness, much like the denizens of the Underworld each time he sent them back through the waters of the Styx.
Strange. He frowned, his thoughts preoccupied more by the bizarreness of his present situation than the crowd of monsters still trying to land even a single strike against him. Had Chaos sent him back into the Underworld? It wasn't a place he recognised, though, so why and where –
A glint of steel from a dagger held in gnarled fingers momentarily distracted him from his musings. He dashed to one side, comfortably dodging once more.
Right, then. Enough was enough.
"Sorry, mates," he apologised half-heartedly, a slight smile on his lips as he stared at the crowd of foes spread before him. "No hard feelings, but you're kind of distracting me and all, y'know?"
He reached deep within him, searching for the power gifted unto him by his Olympian relatives. Settling upon one, he grinned, resting Stygius upon his shoulder with one hand while lifting the other aloft to the sky. Undaunted, and oblivious to the poor fate that would soon await them, his enemies continued to approach.
"Lord Zeus!"
Once more, Zagreus was thrown into yet another surprise.
He had expected to be greeted by the jovial and possibly overly prideful voice of his uncle, his call for aid answered by bolts of lightning raining down from where the Lord of Olympus reigned atop the Home of the Gods. Instead, he received silence in response, and for a brief instant he wondered if he had somehow offended Zeus in one way or another. It didn't make sense, though, since of all the Gods Zeus was the most likely to act on impulse, and make clear his dissatisfaction with Zagreus each time he'd somehow earned the Olympian's ire.
Odd. The Boons that the Gods and Goddesses of Olympus had granted him were still there. He could feel the thunder and lightning of Zeus; the crashing waves and power of Poseidon. There was the steady wisdom and protection afforded by Athena, and the inerrant accuracy and patience of the hunt that Artemis had gifted. Likewise, Hermes' cunning and speed, Demeter's simultaneous wrath and nourishment, Ares' penchant for war and bloodshed, Aphrodite's bewitching appeal, and Dionysus' revelry still rested within him.
Why, then, did his call go unanswered?
Of course, with the threat of his enemies rapidly closing in, he couldn't dwell much longer on that thought. Dancing around their blades, parrying and deflecting the blows of dozens of the foes that had somehow surged in number, he tried calling upon the power of a different God.
"Lady Demeter!"
Yet again, there were no frigid winds of the seasons to deliver death unto his foes. The chill of winter still flowed freely from within him to the strikes of his blade, but the grand manifestation of her power that came from the Goddess herself did not arrive.
"Lord Ares! Uncle Poseidon! Lady Aphrodite! Dionysus; Hermes; Artemis, Athena!"
Power surged within him, the Boons they afforded responding to his thoughts, but the Olympians themselves did not respond.
Very odd. It was almost as though he was back in the deepest reaches of the Underworld within the House of Hades, where the Olympians were blind to the dealings of his home. But here, within this cavern that Chaos had transported him to, if this were indeed part of Tartarus, Asphodel, Elysium, the Mourning Fields, or the Isle of the Blessed, there was no reason why all his relatives would be blind to his call for aid.
"Ah, well." He sighed, hefting Stygius before him. The fury of the tides surged from within, miniature waves flowing along the length of the blade that had once been wielded by Poseidon himself during the Titanomachy. At least that aspect of Poseidon's power still remained with him. "Got to do this the old-fashioned way, I guess."
They advanced, and he struck.
The blade sliced through the torso of the creature in the lead, and even as its body began to vanish from the instant death that had been dealt, Poseidon's wrath did not abate. Crashing tides pounded forth, a wave of force expanding outward. Incessant, unending, and inexorable as the waters of Poseidon, Zagreus' assailants were forcefully flung backward, their bodies arcing as rag-dolls in all directions against outcroppings of stone and dirt that formed the entirety of the underground complex he had unceremoniously been dumped into. Others were launched into their own comrades, crumpling into broken heaps as stone rained down from above all around them in the wake of the God's boon.
Within moments, the battle – if he could even call it that – was over. For an instant, the cavern shook, and he felt a sense of something course around him. Then, that moment passed, and all was silent. The only marks that remained of the battle were the devastation around him, and the blood that soaked his blade and clothes.
Still, the mystery remained. Why couldn't the Olympians reach him? And why, unlike each time he passed the threshold of the surface world, did he not feel the Styx' pull upon him as its currents tried to draw him back to the Underworld of his birth?
"Just where did you send me, Master Chaos?"
And that was not the only perplexing event that had broken the routine his life had become. Though Stygius was normally content to remain inactive and inanimate despite fully possessing a will of its own, there was now a mix of excitement, anticipation, and apprehension within it, seeming almost to hum and vibrate in Zagreus' hands. Unlike the violent shudders it gave each time it came across Titan Blood during his escapes from the underworld, it seemed almost to sing of… recognition – and fury? – rather than greed and lust for power that came with absorbing the remnants of Titan Blood.
"What's up, Stygius?"
Of course, there was no reply, and he felt momentarily embarrassed that he'd even voiced the question. The other Infernal Arms were likewise clamouring with anticipation within the recesses of his mind, their emotions seemingly as mixed as Stygius' in light of his present circumstances. He could call upon them, just as his father called upon his Spear, but for now he was perfectly content with wielding Stygius.
No sense dallying around here. It wouldn't help him make sense of just where exactly he was, and where he should be going to make his way back. Ironically, after fighting for so long to escape from the Underworld, he was now trying to figure out how to get back to his father's domain. Mother would be worried otherwise, and despite the constant ritual of battles to the death between his father and himself, Zagreus knew that they considered each other family despite their differences.
He scanned where the cavern led in both directions, but it remained just as unfamiliar to him as it had been moments ago. In the distance, he could hear growling and screeching that doubtlessly marked more of the creatures that had just (quite rudely) attacked him while he was still getting his bearings.
And then, growing louder with each passing second, he heard thundering footfalls, alongside far softer rapid pants and screams of horror. That seemed as good a place as any to start.
It just so happened that it placed a horde of the small, still-unfamiliar monsters in his way, but hey – it wasn't as though fighting his way through endless, annoying pests that dwelled in dark tunnels was a foreign concept to him, right?
As he ran toward the onslaught that awaited him in this labyrinthine complex, Stygius seemed almost to hum in agreement.
-x-x-x-
Bell Cranel's body burned with exhaustion, but still he continued to run, forcing himself to ignore the fearful urge to turn back to look at the Minotaur that was quickly catching up with him.
Everything had gone so horribly wrong. He had thought he could chance the fifth level of the Dungeon, despite Eina's repeated advice to keep to the higher floors. He had been blinded by his dreams of becoming a powerful adventurer, one respected by others, of perhaps one day rescuing a maiden in distress, of protecting a struggling Amazonian warrior; of becoming the hero that men dreamed about in tales of adventure.
Yes, he had wanted to pick up girls in the dungeon. And yes, he'd been an idiot.
"AHH!" he screamed, as the Minotaur's hoofed crashed down upon him. Stumbling from the tremors of the ground beneath him, he rolled ungracefully, just barely avoiding a blow that would have utterly pulverised his frail and fragile body. "AHHH!"
In a panic, he rolled again, trying to gain distance between himself and the Minotaur that would surely kill him – only to find himself face to face against a wall that he swore hadn't been dare just a moment ago. As though in slow motion, he turned around, eyes wide. The Minotaur likewise slowed its pursuit, its hot breath sickeningly putrid as it leaned closer toward its doomed prey.
Oh, Gods, he couldn't die here! He couldn't! He hadn't even –
No, now was not the time for such thoughts!
A massive, curled hand reached out. Already, Bell could envision it squeezing around his head, crushing it just as easily as a grape.
Terrified, he couldn't even find it in himself to utter more than a slight squeak. The Minotaur snorted, as though in amusement, ready to deliver death to the Level One Adventurer that possessed notions as foolish as seeking girls within the dangerous Dungeon of Orario, the final resting place of many doomed adventurers.
With wide eyes, he saw the hand inch ever closer, fear and dread intensifying as time stretched on excruciatingly slowly –
"Asterius?"
With that single word, that moment was broken. The Minotaur, intent on ending Bell's life, abruptly stilled.
"What are you doing here?" The new arrival's voice sounded surprised, and Bell swore he was crazy for imagining it, almost relieved. "Wait, how can you even be here? We just met back in Elysium!"
Elysium? Asterius?
Bell just barely dared to crane his neck, looking over from the side of the Minotaur's body. There stood a man, a perplexed expression on his face, dressed in a mixed red and black toga he had occasionally seen worn on the streets of Orario, where people of all backgrounds gathered. The most striking feature about the man were his mismatched eyes, one the deepest red of blood, while the other glistened the green of emeralds. A red laurel wreath rested upon his head, hues of red forming a gradient along its length.
Still, Bell's attention was once more drawn to its eyes. They exuded a quiet confidence, bearing no fear that one might expect from someone standing face to face with a Minotaur. If nothing else, they simply radiated confusion, as they flickered aside to regard Bell, now that he was visible from behind the Minotaur's towering body.
Oh, and he also had a giant sword held in one hand with perfect ease, and from the blood that caked its length, Bell knew that this man couldn't be anything but a seasoned adventurer.
The Minotaur now turned around, facing the new arrival. It grunted, trails of vapour leaving its nostrils, and though its back was turned, Bell knew that its eyes had to be full of malice. Still, though, the stranger showed no fear, only realisation.
"Oh, you're not Asterius. Whoops." He tilted his head, briefly regarding Bell. His tone was calm, but Bell saw how he tensed just fractionally, ready for combat at but a moment's notice. "Don't suppose you're down for a friendly chat?"
The Minotaur roared, and charged. Bell tried to shout a warning to his apparent would-be saviour, but the words died in his throat.
Still, the stranger stood his ground.
"Guess not."
And Bell watched, amazed, as he stepped aside from the first blow with ease, far faster than Bell's eyes could even follow. Then, in an instant, he was behind the Minotaur, blood freely flowing from where the blade was deeply embedded in the back of the monster. From the front, directly in Bell's face, the blade jutted outward, as a spurt of blood drenched the entirety of his body.
How – what – when –
The Minotaur's body began to disappear, leaving behind only its core.
The man turned to face Bell, and though the quizzical expression on his face remained, Bell could distinctly see the concern within them.
So cool.
In that moment, Bell knew that he wanted to be just like his saviour.
Caught in that whirlwind of emotions, Bell still couldn't manage to get the words to form properly.
"You okay there?" The man rested his blade on the ground, offering a hand to Bell that he took in his own shaky ones. "Sorry about the mess. Deep breaths, mate."
Deep breaths. Bell tried his best to follow, but the close shave with death was making it slightly difficult.
-x-x-x-
Zagreus could officially say it – he had no idea what in all Creation was going on.
For a moment, when he'd spotted the Minotaur, he'd been almost jubilant that Asterius had somehow found himself in this same mess, even though all their meetings tended to end with one of them dead at the hands of the other. Then, he'd caught sight of the white-haired boy backed up against a corner, terror freely evident in his eyes, and came to the realisation that this was not, in fact, the Minotaur of Crete. That was further confirmed when the Minotaur turned around, blind fury practically radiating from it, as opposed to the more reasoned and honed rage that he'd come to associate with Asterius over their many encounters.
The lack of any apparent skill or power from the Minotaur only confirmed that. While it was sometimes a struggle trying to keep up with the Bull of Elysium or to avoid the wide, sweeping strikes of his axe, this Minotaur was less than even a cheap imitation when compared to Asterius. With a single blow, Zagreus ended its life, and it faded into dust like every single creature he had come across in this bizarre place thus far.
Hopefully, the person still making every effort to calm his trembling body could help shed some light on just exactly where Chaos' gate had sent him.
"Deep breaths," Zagreus encouraged. "That's it."
It was yet another mystery. He looked like a mortal, which aligned with Zagreus' suspicions that this was not part of the Underworld. If so, however, why was Zagreus still able to remain alive in the mortal world?
Then there were the more subtle details. There was an air of divinity about the boy, and now that Zagreus had several moments to inspect him, he could almost sense the presence of a God there, after his dealings with both Chtonic Gods within the underworld and his Olympian relatives as they aided his escape attempts. The presence was weak, almost imperceptible in comparison to real Gods. It was akin to a weak Boon granted by the Olympians, ones that Zagreus had come to rely on as he accrued their blessings while fighting his way out of the Underworld.
A mortal, possessing the Boon of an Olympian? Even if that were true, it was almost so mind-bogglingly impossible that Zagreus was hesitant to consider the concept. Sure, the Olympians did favour certain mortals – Achilles, Perseus, Theseus, Heracles, and many other great heroes – but frankly speaking, the mortal in front of him really didn't look the part. Drenched entirely in blood, the boy appeared frail and weak.
Zagreus figured that part of that might have been his fault, in hindsight. He'd been so used to carving his way through the Underworld on his own, that he hadn't considered the potential collateral damage when he'd killed the Minotaur just in front of the boy.
Still, though, the boy had guts about him. He was clearly putting in effort to regain his wits, and given how exhausted he looked, he had to have put in effort aplenty in trying to escape from the Minotaur. Even Zagreus had started from somewhere – Achilles knew full well just how poor he'd been with martial combat when his father had first entrusted Zagreus' martial education to him. He couldn't fault the boy for his current weakness.
"You alright?" he repeated, once the boy seemed to have calmed down. He eyed the stone that the Minotaur had left behind, significantly larger than the ones he had occasionally seen from the little green monsters he had fought previously. "Don't suppose you know what those are, do you?"
Hey, he wasn't stupid enough to try and reach for residues left behind by the monsters after he'd dispatched them. He knew far too well from his encounters with Burn-Flingers and Inferno-Bombers that some foes liked leaving behind parting gifts as a final effort to take Zagreus down with them.
"T- that's a magic stone," the boy said, sounding slightly confused. "Umm… aren't you going to take that, Mister Adventurer, sir?"
Zagreus snorted. His father might demand such formality among his subjects, but he cared for none of that. "Call me Zagreus, mate. Or Zag. Whichever you prefer."
"Oh! Alright, then, Mister Zagreus, sir!" Zagreus shot him a flat stare. "Uh… Zagreus! Bell Cranel! I mean, my name's Bell Cranel, and I – t- thank you for saving my life!"
Zagreus blinked, as the flustered boy stumbled upon his own words, face reddened. Well, as red as it could be given the blood adorning it, he supposed.
"Right, then." Given that the boy recognised the mysterious object, Zagreus figured it was safe to be handled. Reaching over, he grabbed the stone, placing it into a pouch. He cleared his throat. "So…" He glanced at Bell. "You wouldn't happen to know where we are, would you?"
"Where we are?" Bell sounded confused, before seemingly drawing a conclusion of his own. "Oh! Right! You must have come back from the lower levels! We're on the fifth floor of the Dungeon, Mister – I mean, Zagreus, sir!"
Odd respect for Zagreus aside, he mused over this latest bit of information. This mortal seemed to know where this place was, which mean that he likely wasn't transported here by Chaos' rather exotic methods.
Still, though, a Dungeon? Just what was this place, why was a mortal bearing the Boon of a God here, and why did the Chaos Gate lead him here? Other than the Boons imparted unto him, why were the Olympians deaf to his calls?
Bell must have misinterpreted his silence for dissatisfaction, because he fidgeted nervously, continuing to speak. "The Dungeon of Orario? I mean, Miss Eina says that Minotaurs aren't supposed to be on this floor, but this is the fifth floor, and I –"
"Calm down, mate," Zagreus sighed. "Look – I'm a little lost here, so I'd appreciate any help you could give."
"Lost?" Bell squeaked. The kid, bless his soul, was clearly inexperienced in this Adventuring business he'd mentioned. "Umm… maybe we could go back to the surface? I mean, Miss Eina or Goddess Hestia could probably help you better than me…"
Hestia?
As in Lady Hestia, Goddess of the Hearth? Original wielder of Exagryph, the Adamant Rail? Was she Bell's patron?
It didn't make sense, though. Even though he didn't have dealings with her, Zagreus knew that the Goddess dwelled within Olympus, a place meant only for the Gods. There were many strange things afoot, and Zagreus had the creeping feeling that the mystery was only going to deepen.
Still, though, he didn't see any better options. At least Bell seemed to know what he was doing, even though he didn't seem to be the most well-versed with combat. Zagreus didn't know if all mortals were like that – well, the still-living ones, at any rate – but he seemed to have a healthy amount of respect for Zagreus that was almost unnerving.
Besides, if he made it onto the surface and didn't suddenly find himself subject to a grisly end, then it as good as fully confirmed Zagreus' suspicions that Chaos had sent him very, very far away from home indeed.
"Thanks, Bell. Mind leading the way?"
"Yes! At once!"
Quickly, Bell directed the path as they navigated through the winding cave that almost looked like it could rival Tartarus in complexity. Whatever this Dungeon was, Zagreus suspected it was more than its name implied.
Zagreus had to give the mortal credit – despite his close shave with death, he was determined to remain strong. He had to have had a keen mind, to have memorised the path he had taken despite the haze of terror clouding his mind during his frantic escape from the Minotaur's ire. Perhaps Hestia was wise to impart her Boon unto him.
Unfortunately for him, it seemed that that alone wasn't enough.
"T-this path wasn't blocked before!" Bell exclaimed, standing before an enormous pile of rubble. "Zagreus – this – I swear, this really is the way I came from!"
"I'm not doubting you, Bell," Zagreus said patiently. Poor boy looked almost like he was treading eggshells around him, and frankly speaking Zagreus was bewildered as to just what sort of impression he gave the boy.
He studied the cave-in that sealed the path shut. It had to have been a recent event – within the last ten to twenty minutes, likely. Still, it wouldn't prove much of an obstacle.
"Stand aside, Bell."
"Huh?"
He was confused, but nonetheless Bell complied. Zagreus nodded, and exerting his will upon his blade, sealed Stygius back within him as Hades did with Gigaros. Bell gave an exclamation of surprise, but Zagreus paid him no heed, calling upon a second Infernal Arm for the task at hand.
Varatha, the Eternal Spear, gleamed proudly. He reared his arm back, power swelling within it – the raging seas of Poseidon, joined alongside by the absolute will of its original wielder, Hades, God of the Underworld. Varatha, in its form as the Aspect of Zagreus, reflecting the prince himself, began to thrum with power.
Then, he threw it.
As waves crashing against the shore, and as rivers that eroded through solid stone, the temporary obstacle proved no match for the Eternal Spear and its wielder.
"Alright, then!" Zagreus nodded with satisfaction at the parted rocks, launched deeper into the Dungeon. Stygius was held in his hands once more. "Onward!"
Bell was flabbergasted following that display. "That –"
In that instant, however, the cavern shuddered once more. Low growls emanated from up ahead, and in the darkness, he could see small figures darting about, taking positions despite being caught by surprise.
"Great," he groaned. "More of these guys?"
Don't get him wrong – Zagreus enjoyed combat, but he did have slightly more pressing matters to attend to.
"T- they're goblins!"
Ah, at last, he had a name for those creatures!
"Stay close to me, Bell," Zagreus ordered, as the first of the goblins began to charge. "Point out which way to go. We're fighting our way out of here!"