Eric nuzzled into Henry's chest underneath the blanket as the heater hummed to life; the building's electricity had come back on. Reaching for the remote, Henry drew lazy circles across Eric's back, allowing himself a small smile as he heard Eric sigh. He turned on the television, flipping over to the news, and the sight of a stressed out looking reporter greeted his eyes.

"Good morning, KTTU viewers. This is Stacy Wagner, back again with our live coverage of the massive sinkhole that opened up in the middle of Empire City's Diamond District. City officials have attributed the sinkhole to last night's powerful and unexpected bomb cyclone, stating that the street's foundational soil had been disturbed by an overabundance of rain and snow flurry, allowing it to crack and fold in on itself into the gigantic crater you see behind me here. The Diamond District has since been cordoned off, and due to the sinkhole's proximity to campus, ECU classes have been postponed for the remainder of the week. Total damage costs due to the storm are estimated to be between two to three billion dollars—and counting. Back to you, Craig."

"Thank you, Stacy. Lots of news this morning, folks. In further news regarding last night's storm, Empire General Hospital staff are complaining about a lack of preparedness—" Empire General? Henry gulped, sitting up and disturbing Eric. Stella's there. "—on the part of the management. Staff whistleblowers say that the building's backup generators failed to turn on multiple times, creating chaos in the OR and ER as numerous patients poured in, including our very own District Attorney's daughter, Stella Porter—who the ECPD say may have been involved in a Mafia hit, after she was found last night in a pool of blo—"

"Shit," Henry said, standing up. "Shit, shit, shit—"

"...Wha…?" Eric asked, rubbing his groggy eyes. "Whass goin' on, baby?"

"Nothing," Henry said, looking at his watch. It was 6:30am. "I gotta go to work." He kissed Eric on the cheek and quickly got dressed, forgoing his morning coffee and shower; he groaned loudly when he remembered that his windshield still had two bullet holes in it. Shit, shit, shit.

Gerry would have his suspicions, but Henry was really worried about Amy; Amy had already made a few comments about how she thought his preoccupation with that son of a bitch Logan Black was starting to get weird. Christ, Amy, Henry thought, scratching his cheek. He hadn't shaved in a couple days, and his fuzz was coming in patchy. It itched his skin terribly, and he felt horrible all around. He needed a car—and he needed to piss. Fuck my life, Henry thought. He quickly padded to his restroom, lifting up the toilet seat to relieve himself, and said: "Hey, Eric?"

"Yeah, babe?"

"I'm gonna need to borrow your car."


"Here, uncle," Phoebus said, handing the Lord of the Dead a folded pile of clothes. Odin watched with faint amusement as Hades held the white henley shirt in front of his chest, and proceeded to press his mouth into a thin line. "Nephew...I do not think this will fit me."

"I'd intended this outfit for a lover of mine, and he's about your size. Perhaps a little smaller in the chest but...yes. I do think it will fit quite nicely."

Hades exhaled through his nose loudly. "I can pull my own clothes from the—"

"Eons-old garments, perhaps, as Persephone has done—although, don't get me wrong, sister, you look lovely—"

"...Thank...you, Phoebus. I—I think."

"You are most welcome, Persephone. Still, in the name of remaining inconspicuous, I must insist, dear uncle, that you clean yourself up and change into this. The longer I see you in that sopping wet suit, the colder I get. Brr—" he shook himself and rubbed his arms, "please change. If not for your sake, then for mine."

Next to Odin, Death made a sound—a tsk of annoyed disapproval, and Odin could see that he was rubbing his still-sore chest. "Apollo is right, Lord," Death said, keeping his head bowed and his eyes downcast. Hades' dark mood had improved, but it was apparent that the god was still on edge, and Odin sensed that Death did not want to further incense his Master. "You and Queen Persephone will need to travel through mortal avenues to reach an Underworld entrance, and that means dressing like a mortal would in this day and age. As you are now, the way is shut, and with Hermes still dormant..."

"Deadly little psychopomp," Hades quipped, curling his lip into a twisted smile and rolling his shoulders. "Mortal avenues, mortal avenues...Are you suggesting that we go spelunking, Thanatos?" Hades crossed his arms, and Odin couldn't help but notice the slight tremor in his wrist. Huginn cawed, and Odin pursed his lips. Strong cigarette cravings, he mused.

Thanatos lifted his head slightly, a deferential smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. "Nothing so...undignified, my lord. Master Anubis runs a funeral parlor in San Jose, near the Rosicrucian Museum. He will help you."

Huginn cawed again into Odin's ear, and Muninn settled into a roosting position atop his shoulder. "For the sake of time, you will need to fly there, Hades," Odin said, observing the Lord of Dead as his knee began to bounce—and only stopping when Persephone placed her hand on his thigh. "On a plane," Odin finished.

With trembling fingers, Hades pinched the bridge of his nose. "Why is that?"

"Too great a distance to travel through shadows without attracting unwanted...attention," Odin responded, popping his glass eye back into his head. He'd need to get a new one again soon. Perhaps Phoebus could recommend a good ophthalmologist.

Hades' brows furrowed. "Did you not journey here as a god?"

"...Aye, Hades—and coming here from D.C. was risky for me, still. I was only really able to get away with it due to the distraction your sister provided."

"...Very well," Hades said, sighing. He stretched back in his seat on the couch and then stood abruptly, rubbing his neck. "Fates," he cursed, darting his eyes to Persephone—and was that nervousness Odin detected in the stern-hearted King of the Dead? The dark god ran a hand through his hair and groaned. Everyone in the room stared at him, and that only seemed to increase his agitation.

"E-excuse me, darlin'—darling," he said, correcting himself. "Darling. Excuse me. I—I need to smoke." He kissed Persephone on the cheek, and she nodded stiffly in response, surprised. Odin arched his brow. How very interesting. "I will join you, cousin; it is time for me to take my leave now, anyway. I've some other kinsmen I must contact," Odin said, following Hades out the door.

"You really ought to quit, uncle! It's a bad habit, even for our kind!"

Odin reigned in a chuckle as he heard Hades grumble a curse at his nephew; the god had already put a fresh cigarette between his teeth. Rather quickly, they were down the stairs of Phoebus' building and outside its entrance. Hades fished out his lighter and skillfully lit his cigarette, shutting his cold eyes and leaning back against the brick wall of the building. He exhaled slowly after a long pause, and Odin watched the smoke pour out from him, fascinated.

"Why do you smoke?" Odin asked. Hades' eyes shot open, startled, as if he had just realized that Odin had followed him outside. He inhaled once more, and Odin could feel the dark god's wintry gaze roving over him, sizing him up. "Peace, cousin, I meant no offense—"

"I've an addiction," Hades said, looking away from Odin. He tapped the ashes of his cigarette to the ground. "I've tried giving it up—recent circumstances have made that markedly more difficult."

Huginn cawed, lifting off from Odin's shoulder, and Hades watched the animal soar into the air. "You mean the circumstances surrounding your son," Odin said, putting on his hat.

"Hmmm," Hades rumbled, smirking, but there was no amusement in his eyes. "Yes...and no, All Father."

Odin cocked his head to the side and scratched his beard. It was beginning to get rather long. I ought to shave soon, he thought. Hades took another long drag from his cigarette, and the two men stood in silence with one another as the city's early morning traffic began to flow through the snow-covered streets. A young mother with her little girl walked past the two of them. "It is a cruel twist of Fate," said Hades, watching the pair as they crossed the street, "for a parent to mourn their child." Ah, so that was where his thoughts were.

"Aye, it is," Odin said. "I've many children...but I, too, have lost a son."

Hades considered Odin's words for a moment, tapping the last bits of ash from his cigarette onto the ground. "...What was his name?" he asked, both cautious and curious.

Muninn squawked loudly, taking off into the sky, and Odin released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "Baldur. It was a violent, terrible death."

"I...I am sorry to hear that," Hades said, and Odin watched the dark god's throat bob. "Many a time did I sit in judgement of a soul, hearing the desperate pleas of their family in the World Above over such a death. Clemency, mercy, they begged, banging their fists against the ground like drums. And I...never understood them, not really. How could I? I had no mortal lovers, fathered no half-mortal children—how could I understand such loss?" The dark god laughed then, a morose chuckle. "Even my brothers had some understanding of losing a child before I ever did."

Odin clasped Hades on the shoulder then, delighting at the nervous surprise he gleaned in the god's eyes. "Take heart, young man," Odin said, because in that moment, that's what Hades was: a young man, unsure of himself, and so very much in need of guidance. "For though you said to me that even gods must die, know this: they can be reborn."

Hades' hard gaze locked onto him, and Odin watched as the cold ice of his wintry eyes burned into a raging blue fire. "Teach me this power, All Father," he said, his voice rough and demanding.

Odin stepped away, releasing Hades' shoulder. "It is not a power that I possess, Hades. It is simply a fact about our nature. One day, one day soon, Baldur will return to me. This I know."

Hades' eyes narrowed. "A preordained Fate, then."

Odin shrugged. "As you say, cousin."

Hades' nostrils flared, and Odin could see the vein in his forehead begin to pulse. "That does not help me, old man." He dropped his used cigarette to the ground, smashed the butt with his foot, and lit another. Addicted indeed, Odin thought. "Fucking Fates," Hades groused, his angry growl strangely morphing into bark of discordant laughter. "Seems my idiot nephew is coming this way," he said, his scowling mouth twisting up into a darkly amused grin.

"Phoebus?"

Hades shook his head, nodding in the direction of a rusted out Fiat driving towards them. In the car Odin spied an exhausted-looking youth, whose eyes grew wider and wider as he drove ever-closer, and whose jaw fell more ajar with each passing second. The youth continued to stare at Hades while pulling up to the red light, and Hades waved mildly at him, smiling warmly. Odin blinked, surprised: it was the first genuine smile he had seen from the dreary King of the Dead. The car behind the young man honked as the red light turned green.

"It's a green light, Henry!" Hades said, chuckling around his cigarette. The vehicle sputtered forward, and the young man—Henry, Odin told himself, Henry—opened his driver's seat window, poking his head out and craning his neck around towards the two of them, shock written plain on his youthful face. Another laugh bubbled out of Hades, not tempered by anger or grief; he sounded genuinely, almost alarmingly, entertained, and Odin let himself laugh alongside the god.

"How now, Hades! I wish I knew what's caused this change in you, but I'm glad to discover that you do, in fact, have a sense of humor."

"Hmmm," Hades rumbled, mirth glimmering in his eyes. "On occasion." A harsh wind swept by them then, and Odin spotted gooseflesh prickle on Hades' skin as the god shivered.

"You are cold," Odin said.

"Aye," Hades answered, looking down at his damp suit with distaste. "Suppose I ought to head back upstairs, then. And face my wife's wrath—again."

Odin smirked. "It's obvious she cares quite deeply for you, Hades. I did not expect that."

"Oh?" Hades asked, putting out his final cigarette against the ground. The god was still smiling, but there was a dangerous glint in his expression now. "And what did you expect?"

"Come now, cousin. I think you know how your story has been told throughout generations. You've a reputation, and thus far I've gleaned that not all of it is entirely...unearned."

Hades barked a harsh peel of laughter then, setting Odin's teeth on edge. "I like you, old man," the god said, turning on his heel and walking back towards the apartment's entrance. He paused there. "But tread lightly," he warned, stepping through the threshold into the building.

Odin grinned, tightening his scarf. "You as well, noble cousin." He pulled out his cell phone, dialing the number of his favorite warrior goddess.

"Hail, Odin," she said, immediately answering. She sounds sleepy, Odin thought. How he would like to join her in bed! He smiled to himself. "How is the world?" she asked, drawing him from his thoughts. "Did you find out who was behind the storm?"

"Morning, my dearest Freyja," he said, a light hop in his step. "I did indeed. And I've some good news for our troubles."

"...How do you mean?" Oh, she was awake now. Odin could feel his smile deepening. "The Greek pantheon," he said, beginning to whistle, "is now in play."

"O-oh," Freyja said, the shock of the revelation causing her to stutter. "A-all...all of them?"

"Not yet, dearest," Odin said, looking back up to Phoebus' apartment. "But soon." This, Odin knew deep within his flesh and bones, and that knowledge excited him.

"Shall I begin to prepare for all-out war, then?"

"Oh, yes," Odin said, grinning from ear to ear. "And make haste."

The time had come.