Hades stepped outside into the maelstrom, shielding himself from the hail and rain with the black flames of his realm. It took concentration; it took power. He clenched his jaw, feeling the vein in his forehead pulse from the effort. Weak, he thought, utterly disgusted with himself.
Steadily, he walked forward, aimless and frustrated, and soon found himself at a crossroad. He pushed his senses outward, searching for signs of Hecate, and cracked his knuckles in frustration when he did not find any.
Blowing out his nose harshly, he knelt and planted his hands on the asphalt, seeking to enter the Underworld. Sweat beaded on his forehead; the earth rumbled. He gasped, and—no entry. Inside his mind, he could hear the three Fates laughing.
"To smoke and ash with all of you!" he shouted, slamming his fist against the pavement. A large stone of hail struck near him, breaking through a car's windshield, and he cursed. Ambrosia—he needed Ambrosia, but he no longer had any.
His chest burned, and he clutched it, lurching forward in the snow. Hades shut his eyes, and when he opened them, he saw Zagreus, as a young man...dead. He screamed, holding his head as the image tore through him and pounded behind his eyes.
Curiously, a raven swooped down and cawed at him, pecking at his knee, and paying no heed to the hail that beat down upon it. "Away with you, beast," he moaned. "Away."
His chest felt strangely wet, and he looked down at himself to see a stain of red expanding from where he had been wounded by Hermes. Blood on his body; he shut his eyes. He saw Zagreus, dead once more. He wailed, a black burning flame of sorrow in the snow.
Odin spied the young man—or what appeared to be a young man—burning, pouring forth shadows and spirits, completely uncontrolled. Odin did not recognize the man, but could sense his power. Huginn returned to him, perched upon his shoulder, and Odin flushed at the contact. The Underworld deity he had suspected: very ancient, and very...unhappy.
"Hail, noble cousin," Odin said, calling forth a sphere of light into his hand to illuminate the dark street.
The man—Hades, Odin knew—shut his eyes, and all forms of shadows that sprang forth from him dissipated, as if they were never there. Coming back to himself, he stood, and wiped off the snow and dirt from his knees. Odin watched him warily, hoping to offer a gift of friendship—but also knowing that the man before him was liable to strike at any moment. Hades craned his neck back and forth and rolled his shoulders, adjusting his tie. "Who the hell are you, old man?" he asked, visibly irritated.
Odin arched a brow. Not quite the interaction he was expecting from the young man—or, rather, ancient god. Odin bowed his head. "A friend. The All Father of my people."
"All Father...You are Odin," Hades said, recognition flashing across his hard eyes. He fished out a pack of cigarettes and lit one with his finger. "Yes, I do believe I have heard about you...in school. I am Hades. Well met." He offered his hand, which struck Odin as an oddly human gesture. Odin took it, and suppressed a flinch at the burning rage he sensed in the god before him. Good Lady Demeter may have been causing the current storm, but her younger brother seemed to be just as incensed...perhaps even more so.
"Your sister is causing quite the stir," Odin said, examining the dark god before him. His power was ancient, and yet he seemed so ill at ease with himself. Strange, Odin thought.
Hades curled his lips around his cigarette, flashed his angry eyes up at the sky. "I've stolen her daughter."
Muninn cawed into Odin's ear. He nodded. "That was quite long ago."
Hades tapped off the ashes of his cigarette to the ground. Quite odd that he picked up such a habit, Odin thought. "Aye," Hades said. "And I've done it once again. Though," Hades inhaled a long drag from his cigarette, then breathed out, "I cannot continue to blame her for everything. Much of the fault lies with me—" The dark god winced then, pressing the heel of his palm into his eyes, and Odin could sense that he was a man at war with himself. "Do you have business with her?" Hades asked, through gritted teeth. "I am afraid I cannot help you with that."
"She is drawing dangerous attention to herself—and to you," Odin said, becoming increasingly alarmed. The god in front of him did not look well.
Hades barked a cruel laugh, though it sounded strained. Odin could see the man's pulse beating in his forehead. "You'll forgive me if I don't care about this ridiculous conflict with the—what is it, the New Gods? I've my own familial squabbles to deal with."
"They are a threat to all our kind, Hades."
"As you say." Hades scowled. "It seems that Death approaches."
Odin cocked his head to the side, confused. "Aye…" He flushed at the cold presence he suddenly felt beside him. "Ah, Thanatos, my friend—"
"Am I not your Lord and Master?" Hades growled. Odin saw rage burning in the dark god's eyes, and wondered if he had made a mistake by coming here and not going to the Lady Demeter instead. He looked up at the sky, which had grown so dark and ominous it reminded him of Ragnarök, and how that battle split the world. He suppressed a shudder. "I told you to stay with her," Hades said, furious.
"Forgive me, Lord," Thanatos said, bowing low. "But she ordered me here, and I dare not defy her. Not even for you."
Hades dropped his cigarette on the ground, smashed the butt with his foot. "I see she hasn't had her fill of punishing me." Odin arched a brow; Muninn cawed loudly. Ah, he thought, slightly embarrassed. Marriage problems.
"My Lord, she is only trying to protect you—"
"Protect me?" Hades guffawed. "To smoke and ash with you and her—and the Fates." Hades glared up at the swirling, impossibly dark sky. "And you as well, dear sister Demeter."
Thanatos sighed. "My lord, the All Father speaks true. There is a war coming. The New Gods are weaker than us, but they are many, and they are quick to reproduce—"
"War, war, war—there's always another fucking war," Hades snarled, and darkness erupted from his back, smoking tendrils of burning ember and shadow. Odin stepped back from the gods, Death and his King, and watched. "I fought against the titans, and then against the giants. And, over the course of these many long years, I've fought in innumerable wars since, as a mortal—and I am tired. I am done fighting; I have nothing left to give. I want to go home and see my son; I want to rule my kingdom with my wife. I want no part of this foolish war."
"Hades," Odin said, clearing his throat. The dark god's gaze shifted to him, and Odin saw hot flames burning there. "None of us do. The New Gods seek conflict with us because they fade quickly. They kill our kin and steal our essence, in an attempt to stop themselves from fading."
"I do not care," Hades said. "Even gods must die."
Odin gaped at him. "These are your kin—"
"My kin," Hades snarled, "are the Olympians, whom I do not care for in the slightest. May they stay dormant and rot until the Earth itself is obliterated from the cosmos."
Odin pursed his lips. No wonder there were so few of his kind left; they were all so taciturn!
"These deaths are permanent, Lord," Thanatos said, clearing his throat. "The god taken, forever gone. In her rage, Lady Demeter has revealed herself, and it will only be a matter of time before they arrive. They will kill her."
Hades' eyes narrowed, burning, always burning. So much rage and anger inside the dreary Lord of Shades. What had happened? Odin watched him look up at the swirling sky, hatred written plain on his face. "Not unless I kill her first," Hades said, his hard scowl twisting up into a cruel sneer.
"My Lord, wait, you are still not—"
"I am done waiting." The dark god disappeared in a cloud of smoke and shadow.
"Fates," Thanatos cursed. "There he goes. Queen Persephone will have my head on a spike before this night is done. Excuse me, All Father." And so Death followed his master.
"Oh, dear..." Odin whistled, arching his brows. "That did not go the way I had hoped." He looked up at the sky which flashed with bright lightning, and he wondered, for a moment, if Thor had decided to join in the fray. He sighed. "Suppose I better get a move on up there before the swarm arrives."
It would be soon, he knew. Very, very soon.
