The first tickle was drowned by a wave of relief, as brilliant as the waves of the Styx washing up against the steps as Zagreus stepped out of it. Ruby droplets scattered from his hair and flowed down his chest to puddle at his feet, and Hypnos swallowed as he consulted his parchment.

He cleared his throat.

"Whoa, what happened to you, you just... died? You just plain died, like... nothing stabbed you, bludgeoned you, poisoned you, burned you, crushed you, blew you to bits, turned you to stone, but... you're back here! Must have been these Natural Causes mortals talk about!"

He tried not to sound too giddy. The thought that he would never see his prince—no, not his—had weighed heavy upon his heart. After his serious twin had taken up the heavy scythe and heavier responsibility, they had been the only children together, Hypnos and Zagreus. Two ill-fitting peas in a pod, two outcasts among gods who had neither time nor respect for them.

Now, Hypnos stared at a changed god: Zagreus had sobered overnight, ignited with a burning purpose that Hypnos couldn't imagine. More and more, Hypnos had watched from his alcove in the House, watched from across a yawning chasm as his—no, the prince—had ventured again and again, his muscles filling out and his skill rivaling the great Achilles himself, each journey piercing further into his father's realm and away from him.

These days, Zagreus barely greeted him before dashing by. Soon, he would be just another of the gods, who barely cast scattered, bumbling Hypnos a sideways glance. He had tried everything: He'd spent days (or nights) studying every damned soul in the realm, distilling their abilities into a nugget of advice. The Zagreus of his mind would pause and smile sincerely. He'd say, "Thank you, my dear and indispensable friend. You've done so much for me." He'd come closer on those burning feet, and hold out his hand...

The real Zagreus sprinted by with hardly a glance.

Hypnos sighed and coughed out a crumpled white clump. Stupid ever-falling petals that Zagreus had commissioned must've gotten into his mouth.


The trouble was, those petals kept bothering him. Another clump came out every time Zagreus emerged and vanished in a flash, as if he were bringing the surface with him. Hardly a week later (give or take, he was never quite sure in the Underworld's endless day-or-night), Hypnos finally broke down and asked Zagreus to redecorate the Pool of Styx.

"Sure thing, mate!" Zagreus answered cheerfully, and Hypnos accompanied him to the Contractor's bench. He deliberated and delayed, even though he knew right away what he would pick, while Zagreus patiently waited, and he enjoyed every second of his stolen time with the prince.

"This one," Hypnos decided, pointing at Bonework, Ominous.

"Erm, are you sure that's what you want, mate?" Zagreus glanced dubiously at the bone mosaics, tiles, and paintings, cast in ominously crimson firelight.

"Yep! It really adds cheer to the place, don't you think?" Gloomy as it was, it was the only choice without petals. Hypnos stretched his face into a smile. He loathed it.


Over the next century, the petals increased so gradually that Hypnos almost didn't notice the growing tightness in his lungs, and likewise the scratch in his throat faded into background familiarity. Zagreus continued to come and go, his cheerful optimism giving way to weariness, and later, anger. Hypnos shivered: Zagreus was becoming more like his father than he cared to admit, with the same stubborn resolve. The more that Lord Hades sought to dissuade him, the more determined he became. And though they never fought indoords, their brief conversations filled the House with tension.

"You can't stop me, Father!" Zagreus said, his voice steely. "I'll find a way to stay on the surface, no matter what."

"And how do you propose to do that?" Although Hades spoke in nearly a whisper, his voice echoed through the halls, and possibly all the way to Elysium and beyond. Hypnos wished he'd temper his sneer.

"I'll... make a deal with Chaos," Zagreus improvised, and Hypnos immediately knew that he would. Now that he'd said it, he would be thinking it, and he'd stop at nothing. Hypnos's throat closed up.

"Foolish boy. Deals with Chaos come at a price!" Hades hesitated just a fraction of a second, just enough that Zagreus smirked. Clearly he understood too well, as Hypnos did, that Zagreus would go before Chaos and grin at the blood price. He'd pay with the same reckless confidence, and then he'd walk away, leaving some essential part of him shattered to stardust.

Hades said nothing. Hypnos watched, faint with despair, as they stared each other down: two stubborn gods, neither willing to offer an apology or a reconciliatory word.

The sharp gasps of his breathing suddenly exploded into wracking coughs. Spit and petals came out in heaving waves, splattered with golden ichor. Next came the vines, firmly rooted in his chest, climbing through his windpipe, choking off his throat, and twining around his tongue. Oh, that's new, Hypnos thought deliriously. His legs gave out, and he caught a glimpse of Zagreus turning towards him in horror as he fell.

"We were children together," he mouthed against the stone tiles.


Zagreus reached him first, heaving his twitching body into his lap and fishing petals out of his mouth by the fistful. He pulled at the vines spilling from his mouth with too much strength, and the pull reached all the way down to his lungs and tugged them. Hypnos thrashed, unable to make a sound. Zagreus screamed for Nyx and Thanatos; They were both there in seconds, their cool hands tearing open Hypnos's chiton and feeling his ribcage. They recoiled at the vines poking through the skin of his chest.

"This is bad," Thanatos hissed, looking over at Nyx: a question. She nodded. Thanatos raised his scythe.

"Wait stop! What are you doing?" Zagreus yelled, arms tightening around Hypnos's shoulders.

"He's a god, Zagreus! He'll come back!" Thanatos snarled. With a single swing, he split Hypnos open from neck to navel, exposing the bones of his ribcage tangled with vines. Hypnos convulsed in Zagreus's arms and went limp, golden ichor spilling out from the gash and dribbling from his lips. Zagreus stifled a sob.

"There," Nyx said quietly, pointing to the roots winding into his battered lungs. "I've heard mention of this only in fables, a curse wrought by gods older than ourselves. Older even than Chaos. A curse of unrequited love."

"Then get Aphrodite here!" Zagreus screamed.

Nyx shook her head, her face distraught. "It's beyond Aphrodite's power," she murmured. "The only cure is a confession."

"Hypnos, who is it?" Zagreus turned back to the broken god in his arms, his hands gently cradling Hypnos's ashy face. "Please tell me," he whispered. "We'll fix this."

Hypnos shook his head, the tiniest twitch of refusal, gagging on the vines at even that tiny movement. His stomach clenched and his lungs fluttered helplessly, all of it visible in his split chest. His eyes rolled back into his head, and Thanatos raised the scythe once more, Zagreus watching it in dawning horror.

"He's suffering, Zag," Thanatos said quietly.

Zagreus nodded and squeezed his eyes shut. His hands moved down Hypnos's body, arranging him on the tiles and squeezing his hands tightly. The scythe came down whistling, a single, sure slash across the neck. Hypnos's head tumbled from his body and into the Pool of Styx as the rest of him dissolved away.


Hypnos slowly awoke in a swirling darkness. He took his first clear breath in ages and looked around, letting his eyes adjust. First the stone pillars came into view, followed by a vast, sparkling sea.

Before his eyes, a beautiful and terrifying figure took shape, adorned with countless eyes twitching in every direction. Only the three eyes on the figure's face and forehead focused on Hypnos, staring at him and through him.

"Who are you?" Hypnos breathed.

The figure's marbled lips opened, and an echoing voice rang out. "Son of Nyx, I expected your arrival. I go by many names, though you may call me Primordial Chaos. It seems to me that you are in some distress, though your troubles cannot reach you here. Respond."

"Gosh, where to begin?" Hypnos sighed glumly. "I'm in love with my best friend, and he doesn't even know I exist." There seemed no point to mincing his words here.

"Quite the conundrum. Of the infinite possibilities before you, I will offer you these three. Perhaps one will be of assistance." Chaos gestured at a panel of boons materializing between them and raised a spotlight on the first. "Apathetic Vitality: You will lose your sentimental feelings towards the son of Hades, and the vine will release your lungs."

"Who said anything about the son of Hades? Anyway, I'm kind of attached to these feelings," Hypnos said. "Got any other ideas?"

"As you wish," Chaos said, moving on to the second boon. "Blind Reprieve: You will lose your eyesight, and the sight of the son of Hades will cease to exacerbate your condition."

"Gosh, I'm attached to my eyesight too," Hypnos said. "What's the third option?"

"This is a strange one," Chaos said, though they sounded unsurprised. "Devotion: The son of Hades will love you."

Hypnos blinked. "What's the downside?" He asked expectantly.

"There is none. This boon is simply offered to you, and no payment is due."

"Well now I know that can't be right," Hypnos persisted.

"Perhaps I should clarify," Chaos said. "No payment is due to me. Think on this matter, son of Nyx."

It seemed too good to be true, Hypnos thought. His childhood friend and long-time flame, his for the taking, devotedly and for all time. Unlike boons from the Olympian gods, boons from Chaos were exchanges: an eye for an eye, blood for its worth. "If you're asking me for nothing, then that can only mean you are giving me nothing... You're saying this boon has no value."

"Continue," Chaos said, their voice unchanged, but a pleased note ringing in the space around them.

"If Zagreus loves me because of this boon, then he will never join his mother on the surface. He'll stay with me instead, and it will be as if I'm keeping him prisoner. Manipulating his emotions against his will," Hypnos concluded with a heavy heart. "And I could never do that to him. No," he said, looking Chaos in their forehead eye, memorizing all its colors, the last thing he'll ever see.

The surrounding void brightened a fraction, and all the stars twinkled. "It seems you have come to a decision, son of Nyx. Respond."

Hypnos pulled himself straight. He was no warrior, neither glorious like his mother, diligent like his brother, nor heroic like Zagreus. But standing before Chaos right then, with his decision as sure and sparkling as hard crystal, he was proud of himself. The warmth of it flowed through him, richer than ambrosia and gentler than the Lethe.

He'd carry it with him into the dark days ahead. "I'd like Blind Reprieve, please."

"It shall be done," Chaos intoned.

After a silent moment, Hypnos felt a faint pressure from inside his skull, growing firmer and more insistent by the second. The vines, he realized, horrified. His insides had become a suffocating mass, pressing against his face with nowhere to go, no escape. Tendrils snaked from his nostrils and ears. The pressure against his eyeballs was blinding now. He doubled over in pain, desperately pressing his hands against his eyes, and felt a violent squelch as his left eye erupted, the vitreous leaking from between his fingers. Screaming, he jerked his hands away from his face, and felt his other eye burst from its socket, dangling by its optic nerve as tiny white flowers exploded through the hole.

Retching from pain, he stumbled into the inky sea and collapsed face-down among the waves. "Come again, son of Nyx," he heard in the distance, as he lost consciousness and sank beneath the surface.


Hypnos surfaced in warm, familiar darkness. The familiar sounds of the House of Hades surrounded him. Dimly, he felt the waters of the Pool of Styx lap against his body and heard voices splashing towards him.

He reached up and touched his face. His fingers met hollow eye sockets filled with little clusters of soft, delicate flowers. True to their word, Chaos's boon had dulled his curse to a muted ache: Gone was the unbearable agony, replaced with a slight tightness pressing lightly against his ribcage. He took an experimental breath and found he could expand his lungs a little.

Gentle arms led him up the steps and settled him onto his chaise lounge. Someone laid a soft blanket around him. Cool hands touched his face, thumbs brushing over his forehead and along his temple, and he caught a hint of lavender and nightshade: Nyx, his mother.

"Child, what happened to you?"

"I made a choice," Hypnos answered, exhausted to the bone.

Nyx was quiet a long moment. "This is Chaos's handiwork," she finally said, her voice icy and the air growing chill.

"Mom," Hypnos mumbled. "I made a choice, and I'm not sorry." His eyelids closed over the flowers, their petals soft against his skin, and he sighed. "It doesn't hurt," he added gently and felt her stiffen beside him.

"No," she repeated. "I will go speak with Chaos," and Hypnos knew as she shifted away that her efforts would be futile. A blood pact with Chaos would not be undone.

The warm weight next to him shifted closer: heat like a furnace, a faint scent of brimstone. "Hey Zagreus!" Hypnos said brightly, even as he sank deeper into the cushions.

"Hypnos..." Zagreus began, sounding so troubled and broken that Hypnos faltered for a moment.

Could he be honest? Tell Zagreus the truth of his feelings giving root to the vines? Let Zagreus bear the guilt for his ruined eyes, today, tomorrow, and for all eternity?

No, he would never tell.

"Something on your mind?" Hypnos quipped.

"Oh, you know. It's just... I've come to realize how much I look forward to seeing you here when I return home," Zagreus began, soft and shy. "I didn't realize until you were dying. You make this place a home to all the souls who pass through. And I know now that I wouldn't leave this place even if I could, not forever at least. It's as much a home to me as the surface."

"I don't understand... What are you trying to say?"

The words came out in a rush, as if Zagreus were clinging to every last shred of his courage. "Hypnos, I haven't been much of a friend to you, and I'm sorry. I didn't even notice how much you were suffering. From now on, I want to do better and be by your side, if you'll allow me. What I mean it—I like you, Hypnos."

"You... you do?" Hypnos asked, disbelieving. A brilliant joy was spreading through his chest. He swallowed, not trusting himself to speak.

"I do. Though I understand if your feelings for someone else make this impossible. I'd like to try, if that's alright."

In the darkness, Hypnos found Zagreus's hand by sense and feel alone. He twined their fingers together. "It is," he answered.