Phase 4: Collect Resources

The gods waited anxiously for Hermes to return from the Underworld.

"This is taking too long," Ares grumbled.

"Patience," Athena said. "As expected, Lord Hades needs some time to be convinced, and given our history, it is no surprise that he is reluctant."

Apollo spoke up, "And if he doesn't agree, why not get Neil deGrasse Tyson to deal with him? 'Cause he's the one who kicked Pluto outta the solar system."

No one laughed at his joke.

Hermes entered the throne room of Olympus. All of the gods sat in their seats, staring transfixed at him. He stopped in front of the brazier facing the king.

"That was a long ten minutes," bored Dionysus said, leaning his head against his fist.

"Where is Hades?" Zeus demanded.

Sulking in his cave, George on Hermes's staff said.

Hush, George, Martha scolded.

"Quiet, both of you," Hermes whispered to the snakes, then shook them. He returned his attention to his crowd and his father. "Lord Hades chose to stay in the Underworld as the solstice has passed. He, however, has agreed to our arrangements and will take domain over the Martian Underworld for us to terraform the planet."

The twelve cheered in their own ways. Some cheered outright and most more subtly.

"Alright, I am relieved to see that we are all in agreement," Zeus said. "Now we can begin. Don't sit down yet, Hermes. We need you for the first step."

The messenger god stopped from moving to his throne. "What is it?" he asked.

"To wake up Mars, we need some essence from Chaos. And we discussed it over and surmised that you are the better candidate to retrieve it."

Oh no, both snakes on the caduceus whispered. Their boss holding them was thinking the same thing.

"My Lord, are we sure this is safe? We know what happens to anything that falls into it." He met eyes with Apollo for a moment.

"We only need a small amount," answered Zeus. "You keep a safe enough distance away, and we will supply you a device that will extract the essence without dissolving into it."

Hermes looked at all his brothers and sisters and aunts and uncles. As the messenger of the gods, he could go anywhere at any speed. He goes to the Underworld all the time—even Tartarus! But this was uncharted territory. This could end him. But there was no way that Zeus would allow him to decline.

"Could we order a demigod to retrieve the essence?" he asked.

Ares scoffed. "Like that one brat of yours that you sent to retrieve a golden apple and then turned into a rebel? 'Cause that worked out well."

Hermes tried very hard not to turn his staff into a bazooka and fire on Ares. He took a breath first and stared at his father. "Alright. I'll go. But I'll need some time to get ready."

And so the meeting was adjourned. He stopped by his temple to get his most suitable relics for the mission. He wore a flight suit with his winged helmet. He picked his best flying shoes, and after strapping them on, he darted back to the Underworld.

The entrance to Tartarus was never a pleasing sight. Neither was the rest of the afterlife.

Please, let's forget about this and go home, George pleaded.

Yes, agreed Martha. Why must we accompany you, Lord, if we're not heralding anything? I'm sure you are more than able to do this by yourself.

"I need everything I got."

The snakes refused to say anything after that.

The trek through Tartarus was longer than he thought. The horrors inside were as bad as he expected, though. All the deceased monsters scrambled below, fighting for survival as he flew through the sky. It took a long time to reach the edge of the pit.

From there, he landed to gaze down. The void was darker than dark. It was absolutely nothing, but down there was Chaos. Creation came from there. First, the primordial gods—the planets, stars, everything. Then everything bred to create new life. Hermes was descended from it. Now here he was, trying to collect a piece of it. One minor slip-up and he'd be gone forever. This was a fate worse than death. But he couldn't possibly feel any pain. He would just… disappear.

He pulled out a device that closely resembled a fishing rod. Steadily, he held it as the line lowered the collecting pod. If possible, he'd be sweating bullets when it reached the line's end, and it was still not enough. Using the flying shoes, he lowered himself slowly, inch by inch.

Careful, Lord, said Martha.

"I'm being careful," Hermes grumbled.

Are you sure? George asked. 'Cause I don't want to get sucked in.

We all don't want to get sucked in. Now be quiet.

You spoke first!

You spoke too.

That doesn't mean you could tell me off like—

"Both of you shut up and let me work in silence!"

Soon enough, the catcher was filled to his delight. It wasn't until after he reeled it back up that he realized how far down he was. What was worse, he was still lowering. He made the wings on his shoes beat faster. He was still sinking.

He was being pulled back.

Oh, Styx. We're screwed!

He increased his effort. He conjured an F-14 for extra boost, then a rocket. Still, Chaos pulled at him. It was like the gravitational pull of a star, only much, much scarier. He dropped the constructs to fly on his own. It only felt like the pull was getting stronger. He reached for the side of the cliff. His staff and the collecting rod vanished into his magical tote. Never had he felt this sort of pain in his fingers before. If pain could be this bad for a god, then that means that he could die.

"MAIA! FATHER! HELP! ARES! APOLLO! ANYONE!"

There was no one. Everyone who could help was out of earshot. This was it. Hermes wasn't going to make it.

No….

Suddenly, a hand reached down and he took it. His mind did a cartwheel when he noticed the clean puncture hole in the man's wrist. Then he heard it. A Presence speaking from the Chaos.