Hello all, welcome to the part 2 release! If you havn't read it yet, there has been a chapter 12 (part 1) release today, so make sure not to have skipped it! Also, please welcome a new addition to the team, Shade666 who now stands alongside Will S. LaVi as a new editor and coconspirator of Kintsugi! Please give him a warm welcome, as he has been a great help thus far.
But enough of that, enjoy the chapter!
Kintsugi Chapter 13: Underworld Part 2
-Deep within the Northern reaches of the underworld, near Cocytus-
It wasn't the first time that Hephaestus felt himself reminiscing. Even in the painful waters of the burning river, his thoughts swelled unimpeded. EMIYA had been so blank, and in many ways, he was still shaped by him. EMIYA had always needed a reason, something to move his rusted self. Yet, Hephaestus previous self had the drive to create, a passion that had melded with a vengeance for the wrongs committed against him.
Tartarus had been an eye opener, and in many ways a reminder. The old him had died, entirely. Yet, which path did he walk? The God Hepheastus' or the man EMIYA? He had always assumed it didn't matter. Yet, he had said the same about Hera, only to be proven wrong.
In some ways, the infernal pit had eased that part of him.
EMIYA was dead.
The old Hephaestus was dead.
This new life…it was his own to walk…but how much of it had he truly been living? The words of Pallas had a habit of sticking with him, ringing over and over again as he swam. In many ways, the Titan knew nothing of his situation. Yet, in others his experience surpassed his own, with wisdom to match. He didn't know yet where he wanted this life to be, but he did know this.
It was time to stop shying away from everything, though that was easier said than done.
After all, he was here to free the spirits that had been trapped for whatever reason they had been, yet hid in what was basically his shed in the mortal realms.
Self sacrifice, regardless of his own cost, as always. How things changed but remained the same hmm?
"Though, there is a difference," he thought.
The voice of Styx was still hammering away, nit picking his thoughts like a mother hen. Yet, there was another voice, sultry and deep.
It urged him forward.
"She should be to your left once you exit my waters, Athyrma."
The word for toy. Her view of him mattered little. She was free to dance in her delusions one way or the other. Unlike Styx, she was of further use in locating the others.
"Excuse me!?"
His head emerged from the stinging flames. Their azure hue proved to be less restrictive than he assumed. After all, they were compared to the snarling darkness that engulfed his vision.
"What? How!?"
Hades' voice echoed within the chamber, the rotten trees and soiled ground mired in his shadow. Hephaestus smirked.
"So, I was right," he thought.
"So it would appear," admitted Styx.
Hades was keeping their little…situation under wraps. Hiding his every movement. There was a benefit to this, one he was abusing to the hilt as a transparent hand pointed further ahead. The shores that he had found himself on were rather desolate, abandoned by both monster and soul. The furthest point north of the underworld. He could feel a frigid air here that was absent elsewhere.
He dashed, rushing towards the apex of the realm.
"What are you doing? Do you think I'll let you run amok as you please?"
A thunderous boom echoed as the ground around him shook. From the shadows came the most loyal of Hades' minions. Human souls, monstrous creatures…and a Fury. She stood stalwart, a manic expression in her eyes as her smile grew. A whip was curled around her arm, the thorns digging into the monster's skin.
Her eyes were a putrid yellow, her teeth human and cracked. Her face was somewhat human as well, along with her body. But there was none that could share her stone grey skin, rumpled as leather. Her back was home to a pair of wings, bat-like in their structure.
Words were wasted on her it seemed, her smile growing as steam escaped from her mouth. Her curly hair slicked as black as oil curled around her eyes.
She shook her arm, and the whip cracked, splintering the ground.
A breath.
Steam escaped his mouth, the heat misting from the edges of his mouth. His voice timbered through the silence.
"Stand aside."
A screeching hiss as a whip snap at his face. A subtle shift, and the cracker missed its mark. She was strong, a powerful symbol of Hades' authority. To the other monsters she was nothing but a blur. A screaming symbol of relentless torment.
"GRK!"
One that stopped cold.
He held her throat in his hand, staring at her sputtering face. She was practically weightless, her claws tearing at his hands. She hissed in pain as her talons sprang blood, only to bubble at the heat they incurred.
"…I'm sorry."
SNAP!
He crushed her larynx, his fist closing around the skin and bone. She collapsed, wheezing.
"…Mercy has no place here. But I'll ask once more."
His metallic heel crushed the fury's head beneath it. A show of force to the surrounding monsters. His eyes glowed as flames licked at his arms. Dozens upon dozens of blades saturated the air around him.
"Stand aside."
Drip.
The sound of droplets filled the air, condensation from the heat of Hephaestus and the chill from Cocytus. A moment before they all rushed to him. A moment before they were all skewered. Some were able to endure the speed of the blades, others only dug in deep.
It mattered little. The same mercy bestowed to the Fury met them face on. His hands filled with a familiar pair of married blades. One pair, two pairs, and even a third. A careening arc that severed the last of what remained. Within moments, the shoreline was filled with a shower of golden dust, the remains of the monsters funneling back to their pit.
"Damn you!"
The shadows remained, but he didn't need sight for where he was going. The pull between sisters transcended authorities, however divine. He felt a pair of arms wrap around his neck, flesh and all, the stinging pain prickling along her touch.
"That's it, Athyrma. Just further north."
She seemed to bask in it all, every new sensation. The way her fingers dug into his shoulders, trying to tear at the blood beneath it. Yet, she remained diligent in her imposed vigil, her body floating behind him as she clung to him. Much like the Styx, he could…feel her, for lack of a better term. HE knew she couldn't sense this connection yet, for if she did, there was no way she would let him live with the knowledge.
For all her malignant and sadistic tendencies, the poor spirit was touch-starved. Ravenous for it even. It was why he even bothered letting her have her way and say thus far.
It was why Styx remained silent.
The darkness began to recede as they neared the icy shore. The coast of Cocytus is one of the few areas in the Underworld that Hades held little authority. Shadows receded, only to be replaced by spikes of ice, the crystals vibrating at the low sound of wailing. Countless featureless expressions mired within them, screaming out. He felt a pair of teeth gnaw on his shoulder before dispersing, the stinging pain along with it.
"Don't even think about it," said Styx as his hand reached out, "these are not souls. They're echoes, the abandoned lamentations of those that cleansed themselves for new life. Tossed here without a thought."
His palm rested on the ice, steam erupting from the contact. His breath misted over as it impacted the cold, but he was as warm as ever within. A benefit to his condition. It made Ifrit's absence from within even more jarring, like a space that couldn't be filled anymore on its own. The crystal melted, and the cries ceased.
"…Should I have even bothered?" wondered Hephaestus.
"They always come back."
To call it a river was…odd. Much like Phlegethon, it wasn't moving water. The entire area was akin to an unending winter. The wailing souls created a facsimile of a river, flowing across the frigid surface. The more they wailed, the colder it seemed to get.
Turning to the voice, he met what he assumed to be Cocytus. Clothed, thankfully. Her hair shuddered, shimmering amid its silvery glow. From her brow stood two horns, bent and pushed upwards. She was taller than her siblings, her build ever so slightly wider as well.
The chiton that flowed around her did little to obscure the wide hips and thick legs. But whatever beauty she may have had physically, it did nothing to dull her expression. Eyes that were listless, gaunt features that sunk you in, and strange markings that were etched over her lips and throat.
"Cocytus?" asked Hephaestus.
The woman bowed.
"Lord Hephaestus. My sister has told me much about you. Not all of it good."
"I figured," he muttered, "but you know why I'm here."
"I do."
"Will you allow me to rend your chains?"
She tilted her head. Even at his impressive 6'5, she stood a head taller. She looked down at him, her chest motionless.
"No."
"Very well then."
The right to choose was important. Phlegethon was different; the spike in her chest was a danger that couldn't be ignored. Cocytus however was –
"Are you always so stuck in your thoughts?"
His eyes snapped to hers, the strange glint in them made them seem to shimmer. Her eyes held little color, barely noticeable when one stared at them, but there was a different shade of white.
"My apologies," stated Hephaestus, "I've overstayed."
"…you do not wish to know why I reject you?"
"It is none of my business."
"… You reject. You lament. You ignore."
She placed her hand on his head, shivering slightly at the touch.
"I feel…countless screams within you."
Her eyes began to take color, what was once white became gold. What was once illustrious snow-white hair became a darker brown. She shrank, her form twisting until it matched…
"….Why do you take her shape?"
His voice only shook a bit, but the face of Hera titled as she beheld him.
"What form you see is entirely born from your own laments. Of your grief and sorrows that you cannot let go of. If it is your mother you see…I see you need no explanation."
"Of course not," sighed Hephaestus, "I'm aware of my disappointment. I don't need reminders."
She blinked.
"Then what of the child you so avoid?"
His spine tingled slightly.
"Of the responsibility you ignore?"
Her eyes became sharp, as a different form took place. The familiar shape of the child nymph.
"….she is no child of mine," said Hephaestus.
"True."
The voice that came from Cocytus was not that of a child. But it was the same. Hephaestus sighed; he had his suspicions. But this just proves it.
"But we both know that this form is no child."
"…Wis…"
"Yes. The rights of her Leylines. She had left them with you the day her tree was severed…but you ignored it. You lament it, abhor it."
Once more, the towering form of the horned Cocytus stood before him. Her eyes this time a shade of turquoise. She leaned close, their noses touching with a steaming kiss.
"You wish to…save me?" she whispered, twisting her face as she turned away.
"Then accept that which you avoid…and I will let you."
He scowled.
"…What good does it do?"
"So, you will shirk it? Like you've always been?"
Cocytus blinked, staring down at the form that had just popped up between them. She blinked, staring into the eyes of the diminutive Wis. The form did not speak. It couldn't. Instead, it blew a raspberry.
Literally.
The small fruit hit her leg, shriveling into dust the moment it did.
"It clings to you so strongly. Wis was firm in her desire for you, it confuses me."
"I cannot accept the responsibility of those lives," he whispered.
Cocytus sighed, her chest expanding like she had taken her first breath.
"Oh," she whispered, "yours tastes so sweet. Especially when you lie to yourself."
Her eyes danced to the images of what Hephaestus had already done. Her river reflects the laments of those that visited it, to the very marrow of the soul.
"Lie to myself?" he muttered.
"Did you not intervene to spare their lives before you came here? Did you not create a haven for nymphs, as Wis intended? You speak as if you have not already become involved. You speak as if the very outcome you fear has not already come to pass."
She smirked, a mirthful thing.
"Little Godling, you speak as if you wouldn't rush to them if they needed you already? You bear every responsibility, but not one of the authorities. It is not noble, it is foolish. I do not deign to intertwine myself with one such fool."
The river played the events time and time again, replaying it over and over. The words of Pallas, the way he intervened with the boy.
It was all so obvious. So obvious, that he knew from the beginning. He knew who the child was, deep down. Knew that for all his words, he still fell into familiar habits.
"A hypocrite," smiled Hephaestus, "even now."
The woman blinked, eyeing with anticipation as Hephaestus knelt before the child-like form of Wis.
"You certain?"
The child smiles. It was warm and motherly. It nodded, reaching a small hand out. But when he reached to grab it, there was no hand anymore. Only a voice as a series of lines briefly flashed on his skin.
"Till next time."
Hephaestus sighed.
"You should have told Kassandra that."
He could feel the remnant of Wis shudder at his words. The cold feeling in his hands was relatively new. The chains he held in them were a fascinating sort, entangled with Cocytus' power in a way that was absent from the others.
It was a single chain, one that was wrapped around her neck like a collar. The runes surged as his own heat demolished the enchantments within. The larger woman knelt in front of him, smiling.
"Thank you for the meal."
A torrent of ice and snow tunneled into his chest. What was once jagged became flat. The ice was serene for the most part. Though if you looked down, you would only see the moaning expressions of the echoes trapped within.
A facet of her power, a digestion of one would. Perhaps his own echo was within this frigid oddity somewhere.
Another spirit freed. But there was no time to rest. He could feel Styx's fingers trail across his arm. Her transparent hand pointed west.
To Acheron.
He followed the coast of Cocytus as best he could. So long as he remained near it, Hades' influence was minimal. But eventually his need to go further west brought him face to face with Hades' shadows.
Unlike the flaming coast, the area here was…nicer? The trees were in full growth, the flowers were vibrant and alive. Well, from what he could see before the darkness encroached.
"How are you…? Cease this insanity at once! Do you really believe you can wrest control of the Underworld from ME?"
Hephaestus grimaced into a stoic disappointment. His dead eyes veered into space.
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
The raucous laughter of Phlegethon echoed in his skull.
He could see why though. The idea of wanting to rule the underworld without meeting certain conditions was a pipe dream. Hades' strength was perfectly suited, as all Gods are to their domains, to the conditions and nature of the Underworld. The idea that he wanted anything to do with it was laughable.
It was a waste of time.
Still, such assumptions would not disperse with words, but with actions. Still, why did Hades believe control of the rivers would wrest control of the Underworld? Hades held no literal sway over them. Sure, he made use of them, but Hades' authority was not dependent on the rivers in any way, nor did the spirits themselves have any ability to reject such a thing.
"If Hades's authority was dependent on the rivers, then Chiron wouldn't need a boat…actually he wouldn't even need Chiron to begin with."
The rivers were more like landscapes in the Underworld, each with its unique properties. Hades made use of them, obviously, but that's not the same as controlling them. Hell, Hephaestus held no sway over them either.
"Well," snarled a sultry voice, "if you play your cards right,"
"You just want to dig your fingers into my torso, don't pretend it's something that it's not," sighed Hephaestus.
HE silenced her voice for good measure.
"She's fuming, you know," laughed Styx, "so is Hades for that matter. She's further up…you didn't have to do this, you know?"
"Hmm."
The creatures around him combusted into cinder, his focus elsewhere as Styx led him to Acheron in this infernal dark. The creatures were strangely weak…the entire well of shadows was weaker as well.
An impossibility with Gods. Hades was planning something. Which just meant he needed to move even faster. He wasn't foolish enough to test Hades' patience forever.
The darkness receded, showing a…river?
An actual river. The water was certainly paler than usual, but aside from that it was normal water. The riverbank was littered with purple lilies, roses, and other purple-colored flowers. A young woman was seated by a rock near the river, long purple hair flowing.
"You must be Acheron."
She turned, revealing a delicate face. A sharp chin, paired with a set of azure eyes. They were dazzling, shining with a light that was inhuman as it was graceful. It was a shame then, that her eyes were shadowed and downcast.
They shimmered for a moment, but she remained silent. Her hands remained in her lap, and she was clothed in a lavender toga.
Hephaestus knelt next to her.
"I am here to free you from the chains that bind you. I cannot promise genuine freedom, but I can at least—"
He stiffened as she cupped his face. A tear fell from her eyes.
"What are you…?"
"You...you poor soul."
He felt weak, as all the resistance fell from his arms. She pulled his face into her bosom, his eyes wide in disbelief. He felt no different, truthfully. But, there was no denying that she was feeding off something.
An azure energy had become visible to his eye, funneling into her chest. Yet, there was no relief for her. If anything, she seemed even sadder.
"You've endured much," she whispered, "you poor nameless child."
Hephaestus struggled for a moment, but he managed to gather himself enough to separate.
"I…what are you doing to me?"
Acheron smiled, tinged with pity.
"My river is the river of woe. I feed on the sadness, the regret, and the despair that lingers in souls. Lethe may clear their memories, but it is in my river that their lingering regrets do not stain their new lives."
Her lips pursed, her eyes watering.
"Souls usually bear only a fragment of such things."
To her view, the core of Hephaestus was visible. Her sight was unique, in that the properties and appearance of said core were never what she saw. Only what she could cleanse would be visible. Souls would be splotched with such regrets.
Yet…
In her watery vision…she saw nothing but a cascade, a torrent of sorrow and pain that saturated everything she could see. It was why she had turned away from him before he could see her. She couldn't look at him. Even with all her divine might, a strength beyond the average, didn't even dent it.
It was as if he lived countless lifetimes mired in the darkest pits of the human psyche. Yet, all she could see was the core of a God not even in his thirties. It took decades for a God's core to grow to full maturity…the fact that he was fully grown before her disgusted Acheron even more.
Unlike her sisters, she took her duties that had been forced on her with the utmost dignity and diligence. Without her, souls would be overwhelmed with the tribulations of their past, untethered by memories.
The weight of these echoes would weigh even on the healthiest specimen, altering even their biology. Depression without cause, sadness without end.
"How are you alive?" she whispered, "You poor broken thing."
He narrowed his eyes.
"My life is of no concern to you. But, your freedom is of concern to me."
Around her waist was a similar chain, one that shimmered like the river behind her. He gripped the chains, but she only took the chance to hold him close.
"It's alright," she whispered, "you'll be alright."
Hephaestus cringed a bit, feeling her tears leak onto his back.
"This is why we rarely talk to Acheron. It's always…this with her," muttered Cocytus.
"She's a bummer."
"And our sister," sighed Styx, "besides, it's not as if we must all reside within this space."
"….Excuse me?"
"Focus!" thought Hephaestus.
Instead, to his shock, the chains splintered into nothing, the chains barely held together as they dissolved under his hand. He blinked, wondering what had caused such degradation. He was even further surprised when Acheron just… sank into him. Her river, once a dull grey, shone now with an ethereal shade of rich purple. He dared a glance within, grimacing slightly at what could only be described as sadness distilled into a liquid form.
His memories were enough to last him on that front.
"Do I have to enter her waters?" he thought.
No one answered, but Acheron's velvety tones soon filtered.
"This world is…beautiful. Yet, it is also haunting. You poor-"
"Yes, I understand, I am pitiable, but we don't have limitless time here. Where is Lethe?"
He turned, blinking at the river that shone an ethereal jade in the distance.
A look left. A look right. His eyes narrowed, suspicion in every crevice of his expression.
"…It's Lethe," muttered a sassy tone.
"I can confirm. My sister and I work close together, you see," muttered Acheron. "I understand, for one as poor as you, it can be difficult to see things clearly."
"Caution is advisable, but she's literally that connected to Acheron. It's their function, you see."
Hephaestus was patient…but he had enough.
"Wait? DON'T YOU DARE!" yelled Styx.
"What? What's he doi—"
Blissful silence. Styx was tolerable for the most part. The sassy comments every once in a blue moon were even entertaining to Hephaestus. But four of them commenting on his every action?
"I understand you're bored," thought Hephaestus, "but I cannot be distracted."
He ran, his legs crunching loudly with a metallic screech as his soles hit the flowers. It was eerie really. The rivers were not…connected like natural landscapes. The Underworld twisted and churned with the various powers at work. If Hephaestus were to hazard a guess, this was the work of both Acheron and Lethe. Connecting their spaces to allow him easier access. A possibility that only occurred due to their proximity in function.
Honestly, it was exhausting. A brief look to the right showed the underworld in its ever-changing spirals. Whatever Hades was doing was conjuring a massive amount of power. The amount of time he needed to take it was most likely due to Persephone's presence.
"Need to hurry."
Lavender petals gave way to barren trees, all secreting the same white liquid. The jade light was coming from some of the crystals that formed near the strange waters. It wasn't clear, but instead looked more like a river of milk.
His eyes discerned it was saturated, utterly filled with the countless memories of souls that had been filtered through the Lethe's waters. The water bubbled lightly…but no appearance. He knelt before the water, bowing his head slightly.
"Lady Lethe, my name is Hephaestus, I am here to unbind you from this place…if you'll let me".
The response he got was….garbled.
As in, inhuman garble.
The lake bubbled in a patter of pops and hisses. Hephaestus felt his eye twitch, but time was of the essence.
"Styx…."
"You know what I want," she muttered.
"…I apologize for silencing you."
"…."
He hated it, but fine.
"…I promise I won't do so again unless in a genuine emergency."
"….Good."
"Hey, what about us!?"
"What about you?" she snarked.
The lake had ceased bubbling.
"….and?" he asked.
"Lethe's request is…asinine."
"…how so?"
"She wishes for you to swim in her waters."
"….what?"
"She's…shy. Knowing her, she'd rather you forget this whole crusade and go home."
"Then why bother with all of this? Just tell me to go."
The sigh he heard carried with it hundreds, possibly even thousands, of years of baggage. It was the sigh of a Goddess that had shouldered the sheer stupidity of a sibling in a way only she would know.
"Because she actually wants to go."
"….I'm sorry, I'm not understanding this. Does she want to come or not?"
"She does."
"…But I need to swim in her river that would cause me to erase my whole concept of self…because she's too shy to face me?"
"That would be correct."
"….So she detests socializing?"
"…that would be a sound description."
Hephaestus really couldn't believe it, but a mythological representation of a Hikkomori had just sprung itself in front of him. It was laughable as it was insane. However…he had a rather unfair advantage.
"Can you…direct her power?"
"Hmm?"
"Which memories would it take and so forth?"
"….I…it is possible with our situation, yes. Give me a moment. I need to ensure my sisters understand to not…be themselves right now."
Whatever that meant, Hephaestus didn't care. Already in his mind, a thousand nameless blades were traced in front of him. The blades skewered every area they could puncture, aside from within the river itself.
"Ready."
He hesitantly placed his hand in the water, Styx understanding immediately what he intended to do as he stared at a blade.
"Does the amount of contact matter?" he thought.
"No, only duration."
Good to know. Within 5 minutes, a total of 9467 nameless blades had been forgotten. Yet, the blades within his eyes replenished themselves back into his stockpile. The process was redundant it seemed, for the history of the blades within him only replicated other weapons. The blades that clashed against each other, a spear that tore through armour, a parry done by a knife.
All of it was replenished as fast as it was removed.
"You understand now?"
"Clever," smiled Styx, "I can maintain this as needed. Go."
He jumped in.
He turned, facing the face of a rather plump woman. Her hair cascading around her, white and fluffy like a cloud, covering her eyes. She had a pair of horns that curled on her head like a ram, her eyes slanted as she blinked at him. She was of a heavier build. Heavy in the torso, and thicker in the hips. Her lips were plump, and her skin synergized with her white hair. She wore nothing, but was far from naked. A haze covered her form from neck to the very tip of her toes, obscuring her body's most sacred places.
She blinked, and blinked again. Her face slowly turned redder and redder as she realized that Hephaestus was staring right at her.
Actually. Staring. At Her.
She shivered a bit, and her face turned neon as he swam up close to her. The collar around her neck tightened slightly, and she shivered as his fingers closed around it.
"Apologies. This should be quick."
His touch was exhausting and exhilarating in the worst of ways for the soundless spirit. A single touch to her actual form would result in the vegetation of any sentient species. Instead, it churned out 134,674 nameless blades from his arsenal.
One that was easily replaceable with Styx's help.
With a snap, he destroyed the choker, the poor anti-social Goddess shivering from the unexpected contact.
"You're coming with me," said Hephaestus.
He had meant it literally.
The poor Goddess popped out of existence. Unfortunately, her siblings were not so intent on playing games.
"GET IN HERE!"
A flaming red hand grabbed what essence it could, and Lethe had been acquired.
"Finally," muttered Hephaestus.
He was launched out. Yet, as he landed on the banks, he was face to face with a horde of the undead. Legions of them, but they did not shamble like corpses. Skeletons, enhanced with divinity, stood before him. Dispersed within them were monsters of substantial strength…and the remaining two furies.
They were understandably not happy.
The shadows converged spilling into the bones of the undead Hades had conjured. It was ingenious. Each skeleton before him was now a conduit for Hades' divinity. What was once the weakest category of the undead had just transcended its natural bounds.
That wasn't to say they were equal to a God in any way…but what had once been a mere speck to do away with had become a problem. Of all the things Hephaestus had expected, this was certainly out there.
Still, he'd seen worse.
"I'm leaving now," said Hephaestus, "I have no quarrel or qualm with you, Lord Hades."
"Your words are as hollow as the truth you so espouse," stated Hades.
A skeleton stepped forward, one shrouded in shadows. Not a single hint of their bones were visible, only the eye shaped light in their head signified a face. Hades words echoed from the skeleton again.
"My realms will not be invaded, no matter the reasons you may have. The theft of the spirits are an even greater—"
"Theft?"
The audacity of his interruption brought silence. The word boomed from his voice, saturated in his disbelief. Hephaestus breathed deep, his eyes simmering, their glow spreading as his divinity churned beneath his skin.
The cracks began at his hands, slowly encroaching the rest of his body as he spoke.
"You speak as if they are yours, as if you can hold dominion over any deity."
A scoff, as the cracks spread.
"I see it on Olympus just as I see it here. This need to…dominate, to conquer. These spirits are not yours, nor are they mine! They were chained here long before you were even a speck in Kronos' eye!"
The underworld shuddered, the Titan King's name fracturing a few of the stones around them. Yet, he continued undeterred.
"Chains you've done nothing to remove. You are a God! You know as well as I do what little freedoms we can truly have."
Hephaestus felt a little bad spouting this, as if this truth were his own. But a point must be made. The young God's arms swept around him, showing the river behind him. The Lethe's once milky waters had turned even more translucent, becoming an almost eerie green as the moment passed them by. The rivers were changing.
"You freed the world from Kronos with Zeus, for that you have earned respect."
Hephaestus stared right into the shadowy eyes of the proxy before him. The flames leaked from his cracked body, the fire licking at his jaw. The shadows danced beneath his eyes, darkening the golden sheen like a wolf in the night.
"However, you've yet to earn mine. These Goddesses will be free."
"You know nothing of this circumstance," growled Hades.
"I KNOW IT IS RIGHT!"
It felt good to say it. The words leaving his chest like a weight from his shoulders. The truth he had been so avoidant of until this moment. This was a truth that EMIYA would always carry. But in this life, it was unmarred by guilt…for good or ill.
"Right. What does a child know of right or wrong?" scoffed Hades.
"I know it is subject to circumstances," said Hephaestus, "and backed by will and strength."
The shadows remained for a moment. The proxy began melting away, and Hades himself took its place. The helm on his head shone at its bleakest, as if even the shadows were being consumed by something even darker.
"What happened between Persephone and Demeter is their own concern. It should not have reflected in your marriage to her. I can see it; she wants to be here. She belongs here…but I am here because you and every other God involved couldn't care less for the consequences that followed…only yourselves. I understand if this is disrespectful to you and your realms."
A scowl.
"Deal with it," drawled Hephaestus.
Hades turned to the young God, the intensity of their power dissipating slightly. The memory of the oldest siblings caring for the younger. A time stuck in the confines of their father. Of a declaration made by a younger, more foolish God.
That justice would prevail.
That righteousness would be theirs.
Eyes that held more life and zeal than any God should have. Yet, Hades felt wisdom in it too. Shame. Disrespectful as this Godling was, Hades couldn't help but feel a smidgen for the boy.
"I can see why Zeus likes him so," thought Hades.
It was like looking at a mirror. His brother in his earliest days was just as stubborn in his morality. There would be more to learn, that much was true. Still, debts needed to be paid. But, the boy had escaped Tartarus, and while annoying was not a disrespectful turd like his brother.
Hades was a calm God for the most part…leniency can be had, along with a gift.
"If you can leave," said Hades, "then your transgressions will be forgiven."
The boy blinked, making Hades smirk mirthfully under his helm. The emotions of Gods were volatile and short, a fact this young one seemed to stray from.
"Fall, and you will work your hammer for a symbol that I deem fit."
The boy would fall…but perhaps Hades would see it again. The sight that had jolted him straight in his heart. The sight that had inspired him to rise against the odds when he had been freed. The sight of a savage smile backed by a surge of lightning. The sight of a hero.
Hades felt it, bit by bit, every time he saw his youngest brother. Pieces of him that were slowly changing. It…was not something he liked to ruminate on. Still, it would be nice to see it again.
"…why on earth would I agree to this," whispered Hephaestus.
A smile. Good, the boy wasn't a fool. Instead, Hades held him palm up…and showed a man. Hephaestus' flames burned blue for a moment.
"You!"
"Agree, and in your victory, I will give you the location of this man you are searching for."
Hades knew every soul in this place. When Hephaestus had broken in, the very souls he interacted with were studied extensively. It would appear his assumption had paid off.
"…I accept."
There was no doubt. The boy's goal was right in his palm. Hades retreated, the skeleton he inhabited for a time breaking apart. His wife was almost ready to leave, and the response from Olympus was due shortly.
The sight of his wife was enough to rouse even the ever-stoic Hades in the most absolute of ways. If the lord of the dead was honest with himself, he was slightly embarrassed by how he was with Hephaestus. The sight of the younger God getting along so well with Persephone roused feelings in him he didn't even know he had.
Still, flowers like his beloved were not meant to exist in isolation. Persephone had so few friends that it was nice to know she had someone amongst the Olympians she could confide in, however little she may wish to.
Still…he wasn't perfect.
The spark of the green beast reared its head, as the Underworld itself shuddered to surround the lord of fire. The simultaneous existence of a God meant that while he prepared for Olympus, Hades was talking with Hephaestus.
Manipulating his realm to finally cover the area needed for this conflict…and exert his full strength.
Hephaestus growled as the full weight of Hades' divinity saturated the air, tearing at everything he could conjure. This was different than any foe in EMIYA's memories. There were certainly those who had disrupted EMIYA's magic before, but those were through spells, reality marbles, and various other conditional abilities. The more extreme circumstances were for beings that existed beyond the level of the Gods.
This middling ground was…aggravating.
He could feel his divinity respond firmly in his grasp. Yet, the moment he tried to conjure it beyond the skin, Hades was just ripping it apart. Every time Hephaestus exerted his divinity, his own magic, Hades was there, thoroughly disrupting his power.
CHUNK!
A darkened spear of shadow pierced a gap in his limb. Wire thin to spear through the gaps and intertwine like branches.
Muscle mattered little when his limbs were entirely mechanical. The flow of his divinity was disrupted, and he fell uselessly to his knees. Control like this was not a common skill.
"I'm a fool," thought Hephaestus.
He should have assumed the worst. His other leg was ripped to the ground, another spear digging into his left arm. Countless bodies slammed into him, the bones shattering and melding into a tar-like substance, further enhanced with the divinity of the dead.
Monsters clamored onto him, their teeth ripping into whatever purchase they could find. The strength of his upper body was immense, with every struggle flying bodies and monsters off with every heave.
Yet, for all his herculean strength, Hephaestus was not immovable, nor unstoppable. More and more of the tar covered his body. The purplish divinity of Hades enhanced it even further as it hardened.
"You are strong, Nephew…but still so young. Take heed—"
Hades' words felt numb. A voice echoed, layered with a deeper undertone.
"I Am."
"What is this?" thought Hades.
The very realms shuddered slightly, the divinity of Hephaestus curling in on itself. The very nature of divine power was a continuous flow, ceaseless and unending. The idea it's current could be so…twisted was an impossibility.
"The Bone of My Sword."
Hades felt…disgust. Yes, that was the only way to describe it. There was no way for him to disrupt this, for the divinity was curled inside Hepahestus' own body, not espoused in the very realms he embodied.
"Fire is my Blood"
The words rumbled, yet this phrase was crunched out, as if it was out of place. It was this moment that Hades recalled the nature of Hephaestus upbringing.
The fact that he didn't have one.
"Stop, boy!" yelled Hades, "You're—"
"STEEL IS MY BODY!"
KRNK!
CRUNCH!
The feeling churned and twisted in Hades' stomach. The divinity ravaged Hephaestus' own body, aimed at itself. From within the shadowed tar came a series of blades. The steel of their make screaming as they came into the world. The blood that marred their steel was hot enough to make them scream. Monsters were speared, and the sudden surge of foreign divinity ironically destabilized Hades own from the unexpected intrusion.
The sight was something that would mar Hades' memories.
Skin was torn from his face, showing teeth and bone.
His arm was a mangled mess, a series of blades interlinking with each other.
His back was a twisted amalgam of spears, swords, and even a few halberds.
His neck was torn, struggling to close a wound that had no perpetrator but its own self.
Steam erupted from the open orifices of Hephaestus' body.
The sound of gears echoed as the eyes of the mutilated God seemed to stare directly at Hades.
"Burn."
The fire erupted from his chest, the reaction already completed before Hades could discover a means to interject his authority within the flesh of another God.
Well, if that was something Hades would even consider. He stared at the Godling before him. His heart fell at the sullen sight, watching his nephew trudge himself forward. His steel legs crunched with every step, their broken metal a groaning song.
Even his furies and mindless beasts were stilled.
His neck snapped into place first.
"Stop," intoned Hades.
His spine twisted; his chest wound mending itself with bladed chainmail. The authority of a God bolsters the healing of his body.
"Nephew," he thought.
CRNK.
Bone, or was it metal, twisted along with a metallic gong of a shoulder popping back into place.
Fire erupted from Hephaestus' maw as his skin slowly grew back. Sweat ran down his body.
Hades had overseen torture of such grievous nature that even a God would look away. But this? This was something else entirely.
The pain was irrelevant, the torn body an old sight.
It was the disregard.
The callousness.
The utter contempt for his own self.
If there was one thing that shook Hades to his core…it was apathy. The monsters all charged, but Hades and the Furies stayed back. Hephaestus' divinity was free and the blades that shot forth speared all that had gotten near him.
"…what is the meaning of this?"
It was a solid question. Hades stared at him, eyeing the healed torso of the God. His legs were still marred, the torn metal open. It was a strange mix of gears and layered metal, yet no flesh.
The furies stared at their boss but held themselves back. They knew better than to speak now. Hades held the image of the man in his palm. Before another word could be spoken, the image burst into petals, the withered things flowing into his body.
The last known location of that coward, The Island of Naxos.
"…I have lost," intoned Hades, "that is all."
His voice lacked the depth of his divinity. The wealth of shadows dispersed from his form, revealing the awesome if cold visage beneath it.
"…What?"
"Leave," said Hades, "our quarrel is over."
Whatever this was, Hephaestus wasn't going to question it. The fickle nature of the Gods was well known, along with their volatile temperament. Strike while the iron was hot, as some would say. His movement was slower, his left leg groaning at the weight placed on it.
Sadly, black adamantium was incredibly strong, but the very qualities that allowed it to both flow with divinity freely and house great strength made it ironically difficult to fix with alteration. It was why he had made it by hand. There was the pride of it, but it was also practical. Any alteration he made was like a band-aid. The metal was strong enough to reassert itself, bringing more damage. Saturated in his authority as it was, made the metal resistant to the very process that could repair it quickly.
Still, if he wanted to leave, he needed to be able to walk.
With a thought, the spell surged into his prosthetics, the burst of it straightened the leg, but the blue cracks through its form were already widening. Eventually it would shatter, leaving Hephaestus in the same position he was in before.
He walked past the lord of the dead, Hades looking beyond, his vision seeing something more than what Hephaestus could figure.
"…you seek Olympus?"
He stilled, turning to the lord of the dead.
"If you agree to reforge my helm, I will take you there."
The instinct to scream no was strong. To just lash out and be done with it. But the memories of how Hades had dismantled even Archer's great strength stilled him. In the far future, it was likely that Hades would request the reforging of his helm anyway, possibly bringing Zeus into it.
If he was honest with himself, he'd likely remake the damn thing when he wasn't so pissed.
If it was going to happen anyway, might as well get something out of it and keep on his terms.
"Fine," stated Hephaestus.
A portal formed, a nice change from the usual instant teleporting. A shadowy gate that swirled with light blue energy. The gate opened to reveal Olympus in its entirety, right outside the gate.
There were no words needed between them. Though Hades appeared to be getting annoyed again.
"Best leave now," thought Hephaestus.
Hades on the other hand, learned something important. It was a mortal concept really, a modern one. A little something called double jeopardy.
He had already punished Hephaestus for the act of "stealing a river of the underworld."
In the midst of said punishment, Hephaestus went and stole the other four. Part of the reason he had let things go so easily was the knowledge he'd be able to use this again. One enforcement for each river. A failsafe to ensure Hephaestus' actions could not be repeated.
A cordial relationship was best. Yet, Hades was no fool, and of course hedged his bets.
Usually he won.
Usually.
His eyes narrowed as this portion of himself closed the portal. He had thought himself a master of divine laws, though it appeared there were still some things to learn.
-Olympus, a few moments later-
It had taken a moment for Hephaestus to adjust to the sudden change of atmosphere and pressure. But when he did, the sight was as warm as he remembered. A good sign, considering the nigh apocalyptic winter that had only just happened.
Though you wouldn't know it from here.
The entirety of Olympus was a buzz of activity, the once marble and pristine palace now hugged by a growth of plants. It was a beautiful sight, far better than the sterile dimension he had seen previously. He was starting to think that was part of the point, that Olympus was designed to be empty, so that the Gods could feel it.
As nice as it would be to adjust his leg, he could already feel the metal straining against him already. Another alteration may very well splinter it beyond repair. A large part of him wanted to simply run off, fix his legs, and then hunt the cowardly bastard…but that needed time. Time that could easily be interrupted by Demeter's situation.
The foyer of Olympus was open to all, and in the center of the gathering was the very Goddess in question. It was as if they were outside in the mortal world, a bustling of plant life obscuring the once marble thrones.
It was even complete with a rising sun forming above the sky.
"Interesting," thought Hephaestus as he climbed the stairs. "It seems to be an open theme this time."
Before, Olympus had been the inside of a massive temple. Yet now it was surrounded by life, seemingly built into and around the earth. The scents, the lights, and of course the color. All of it matched the splendor of their denizens.
Past a bit of foliage, Hephaestus brought himself to the center. He was shambling a bit, compensating for the weakness in his left leg. Demeter was doting over Persephone, the blond-haired woman blushing and embarrassed by her mother's doting.
Hades stood close by, nodding at Hephaestus as he arrived. At least his temper had cooled. Zeus was seated, along with the other Olympians. Unfortunately for him, his shambhling appearance was more noise-inducing than he wanted.
"Gods," thought Hephaestus as they stared at him, "of course they use their senses to focus on me."
CRUNCH.
SCREECH.
He shambled forward just enough to stand near Persephone and bowed to Demeter.
"Lady Demeter."
He said nothing, but the smile that spread on her face made even Persephone blink.
"A God of his word. You've impressed me, Nephew."
"I only spoke to your daughter and her husband," said Hephaestus, "it was them who made the effort to come here to you."
Demeter actually smirked, a raised brow. She closed the distance, grasping his shoulders to raise him up.
"Yes, and your legs are proof of a purely verbal exchange? Come now, Nephew, you've done more than you say. There is no denying I owe you. Now that Persephone is returned to me."
"Mother!"
The voice was raised, but even Hephaestus could feel the whimper from here. Hades backed her, but even her husbands incredible strength did not give her courage. Not here. After all, it was easy to stand against hate.
But love?
Hephaestus turned to Aphrodite, hoping beyond reason that she might yet get involved. While it was popularized that she was love of a more…sexual nature, she embodied love in all its concepts. It was strange looking at her. The way her face twisted into visages both familiar and strange. It finally settled on a chestnut haired woman, with a striking resemblance to Calliope.
There was no response. Her eyes weren't even focused on anything around them.
There would be no help here.
"Come daughter, your time with this scoundrel is over."
"Mother, please I–!"
"What," scoffed Demeter, "what is it that you can possibly say about all this?"
"W-what I choose to do!" yelled Persephone, "is not of your concern!"
She grabbed Hades, the man smiling down at her.
"I love him! HIM! The underworld calls to me mother, do not pretend you've never noticed!"
Hermes and the others all seemed to be enjoying themselves. Hera couldn't care less, only sitting beside her husband as a duty.
Zeus appeared to be enjoying this as well, though he seemed ready to intervene. Artemis scowled, watching this play out as Athena stood beside her.
Ares, was as usual it seems, absent.
"What of it?"
"What of it? That's all you have to say?"
She stared at her mother, agast.
"Nothing ever trapped you with me daughter, NOTHING. You walked every moment with me of your own will. I never bound you, kept you, nor caged you!"
There was a frantic look in Demeter's eyes now as she stared at her daughter, towering over her even now.
"I protected you! Protected you from them!"
The minor Gods around them scowled. Perhaps most were innocent of what was implied, but Hephaestus doubted it. His leg cracked a bit, but already a shred of his divinity began to trail back down to the twisted metal.
"I didn't want your protection!"
"What child does!? You lived to be fully matured without harm…that was more than I ever had."
The life leaked from Persephone.
"You…have no idea. You never will…I made sure of that."
There was a darkness there, a reminder. The power to reap did not die with Kronos. Zeus narrowed his eyes…but relaxed. Whatever he was concerned about, he seemed confident it wouldn't pass.
"This is my life," whispered Persephone, "every moment of it cannot be spent with you!"
"You were never supposed to! You had the freedom to leave whenever you wished, Olympus was yours to explore, and the realms when you were ready! This was clear to you!"
"No, it was clear to you! There is nothing you have over me mother, nothing you can do to stop me."
Demeter stared…but the scowl was not at her daughter…but her husband.
"This, this is your so-called protection?"
Hades shuddered, feeling Demeter's divinity swell.
"You reassured her of this? That I…couldn't do anything? That I was weak?"
Demeter's own hair began to die a little. A deep chestnut, reduced to an ashen white. The change was slow, but the room became deathly quiet.
"Demeter," whispered Hestia.
She turned to her sister, the flaming locks framing a sad face, free of her veil.
"Bystanders have no say," she whispered harshly.
Hephaestus felt a prick in his heart, watching Hestia grimace.
The ashen-haired Goddess turned to her daughter.
"I've been too lenient with you," she whispered, "I see that now. In my attempts to protect you…I've left you with fang or claw."
She closed her eyes, the light of them leaving, now only an iris as black as soil remained.
"You lied to me," said Demeter.
The words echoed like a clap. The resounding waves were not filled with spite, but with pain. Persephone felt her lip swell, her eyes widening at the sight of her mother's smile. A hollow smile filled with hurt instead of joy.
"You lied to me," she said simply, "hid your…dalliances away like a child."
The world shuddered around her with each word.
"You allowed Hades to enter my realm unimpeded without permission, nor my implied consent."
The plants began to wither.
"This breach of conduct aside, you expect me to bless this sort of union?"
"I love him!" Persephone snapped, a desperate tinge on her tongue.
Demeter nodded.
"Yes. How quaint your love is," she whispered, staring at Hades. "Love too weak to discuss and get permission."
Hades scowled, shadows filling the room.
"A love too weak to bring to light."
Plants began to die, the ashes of which fell like snow, and Persephone's eyes widened. It had always been assumed that the death of plants was Persephone's domain. Both life and death were interwoven together. It was true, as she was a Goddess of spring.
But Demeter was a Goddess several tiers above her child. An Olympian, whose domains were greater than most assumed.
"Your love," sighed Demeter, "too weak to even speak of. Your husband, a coward. Instead of facing me himself, he hides in his shadows and lurks to his own brother to get what he wants."
The worst of it all…it was the truth.
"You are coming home…perhaps then I can give you skills instead of protection."
The sound of metal snapping into place brought all eyes to him. The legs that had once been bent and twisted, now stood strong. Though, the blue lines glowed far brighter than he would have liked.
Demeter's eyes slowly grew as she watched him step between them.
CLANK.
Her fist closed.
CLANK.
Her arms crossed.
CLANK.
Hephaestus stood between her, staring her down. He bowed his head slightly.
"Lady Demeter."
The plants ceased their dying. The Goddess of the harvests fumed, her eyes narrowed.
"I owe you much, Nephew," she stated, "but do not think this gives you free rein."
"Your words hold truth," stated Hephaestus, "but who she chooses to marry is not your choice. Where she decides to be is not your choice. How she wishes to live….is not your choice either."
Hephaestus felt his flames grow.
"Do not pretend that Hades stands back in cowardice. He is your daughter's Husband. You know as well as I that such a position demands respect from him. You speak of Persephone not discussing things with you…but now do not give her the opportunity to do just that."
Hephaestus's core fluttered with fire, the cracks between his body splintered into being. His inner flame screamed as he stared at the Goddess.
"I am a man of my word," said Hephaestus, "and I gave my word to Persephone that she would return home to her husband…even if I have to stop you."
"Hephaestus," whispered Persephone, "please this…this has gone far enough. I already know you've fought my husband,"
Hades blinked, his wife giving him the eye. It was cute that he thought she wouldn't notice. If she was honest with herself, the jealousy of it was also kind of adorable…and hot. She remained composed, even with such thoughts.
Yet, the way Hephaestus ignored her was infuriating in its own way.
"You would stand before me?"
He moved slightly, no longer obstructing her view of Persephone.
"You are her mother. That is a fact that will remain till the end of time. This…divide can be a ridge between you…or you can mend the bridge, while you can."
He looked down at the sitting form of Hestia.
"Aunt Hestia…is it possible to give them privacy? Such words should not be heard as…entertainment."
Hestia blinked, but smiled.
A haze filled the room, surrounding the four of them.
"Lady Demeter, you state you owe me, yes?"
She stilled, trepidation clear. Yet, it was short-lived. The older Goddess felt her eyes soften at the sight of her Nephew. It was strange how mature he seemed to her, how much older. Yet, as he looked at her now…she saw nothing but a God that was far, far too young. To be aged so rapidly.
"I humbly would make of only one request of you," he stated softly, "truly listen. With everything. Promise me that you will actually talk with her, hear her, and consider Persephone's desires."
Persephone blinked, even Hades staring at him like he was a complete fool. A favour from Demeter was a massive boon.
"…this is what you'd ask?" she whispered.
The color of her hair began to brighten, like the wheat of a summer day.
"Yes."
The young God turned to look at both mother and daughter.
"I've been told that family is important. Gods and Goddesses are immortal. Would you rather spend this life with hate…or with love?"
The thought of Hephaestus' own situation rained pity within Demeter's heart. One that drowned in her own petty nature. Staring at her daughter now…the way she held herself, so withdrawn. Hera had abandoned her child outright. Horrible and disgusting. Yet here she was screaming at her, belittling her. True, there were wrongdoings on Persephone's end…but she was a child.
She was not.
"I swore I'd be better than them," said Demeter.
Hair that was now lustrous blonde, a figure that had seemed to regress to that of a woman in her mid-twenties. It looked as if some burden had been lifted.
"…I've not done a very good job, have I?" she whispered.
Demeter pushed past the God of fire, a light touch on her daughter's face.
"Show me," she said, grasping Persephone's hair, "show me as you truly are."
The hair turned white, and the daughter grew to match her mother's stature.
"…speak to me. I will hear you, truly…but you will hear me as well."
She went to open her mouth, only for her mother to place her finger on it.
"Do you truly believe you are without fault? How much time did we waste with assumptions already? I am willing…are you?"
A question of vulnerability. One that Hephaestus respectfully bowed away from. He turned to leave, ignoring the way Demeter stared after him, eyes misty. As he exited the haze of Hestia's power, Hades was soon to follow.
"My lord," said Hephaestus.
Hades only nodded. But the gesture was enough.
"Well done Nephew."
Hestia stood beside him, her own form flickering slightly.
"You've pushed yourself," sighed Hephaestus.
"In a way. I cannot be directly involved, yet strangely enough, requests like yours I can heed. Quite the strange existence I've become."
The urge to free her of it was deep…but he kept quiet. The instinct was hard to ignore, but the time spent in the underworld had given him perspective.
Pallas and Styx had been right, in part. The idea of simply offering himself up again and again for assistance was ultimately pointless. Besides, he had no feasible way to even investigate Hestia's situation.
After all, Styx had been a literal accident. Figuring out Hestia's situation wasn't going to happen overnight and frankly, he had more important concerns to tackle.
Hera and various other Gods had left some time ago, even Zeus. With the entertainment gone, there was no need to be there anymore. He turned to the haze, a small smile forming at the hug the mother and daughter were sharing.
His work here was done. If there were problems, it was their problem now.
"Strange," muttered Hephaestus, "as much as I detested teleportation, now would be convenient."
He looked around, hoping someone would hear him. Sadly, none replied. Well, that wasn't entirely true.
"CAW!"
The screech of Ifrit entered the room, the bird of legend crooning as it landed on its friend's shoulder.
"All is well, I take it," he smiled.
Their shared vision showed him all he needed to know. The island was safe, his home protected. Even better, there were no casualties. He could feel the authority of Wis take hold within him. He was connected to the island in a way. Not as deep as other Gods, no, but enough to set a boundary of a sort.
The kind where unwelcomed guests of a divine nature could not walk. He doubted it was fool proof. After all, Demeter was a starling example of how even the personal realm of Gods can be invaded.
"Lend me your wings, Ifrit. Take me home."
A flutter of burning feathers, and he was off. It was warm, swirled within his friend. The standard flight of a bird this was not, for Ifrit took the form of a torrent of flame, screaming through the open air as it went as fast as it could.
Suffice to say, he arrived home in a timely manner.
The ground had since been freed of the surprise snow. It was still cool, like an autumn day, but the light of the midday sun made it all feel so new, and why wouldn't it?
He finally had it, the clue that he had needed.
"I thought I'd need to give myself time," thought Hephaestus, "but I have him."
The man may have been a means to an end, but with him came real clues as to what had caused the travesty that befell Calliope. He took a breath, the fresh air was tinged with a nigh minty taste. It felt incredible. He felt incredible.
He needed to prepare, gather his materials.
"Finally, Ifrit," said Hephaestus, "we can hunt him down. Can you scout ahead, old friend? I know it is the father of wine's territory, but do the best you can."
Ifrit fluttered a bit before rocketing off from Hepahestus' arm.
"Finally," he smiled, "It can finally be—"
BOOM!
His left leg promptly exploded, the tension of his legs causing his forged limbs to blow apart from the force. Pieces of the shrapnel dug into any of the exposed flesh, burying themselves in the woods. He fell forward, face first, his fist clenching.
He turned, facing the sky as Ifrit hovered above him, refusing to leave.
"Fuck!"
…first, new legs, then adventure.
As he brought himself to his chest, Hephaestus dragged himself into his house. It would seem he needed time to properly prepare. It would take a bit of time to do so. His hunt would begin soon enough.
The silver eyes in the woods that watched him ensured it after all.
-CHAPTER END –
My apologies good folk, my shoulder got fucked while I was typing and took me out on and off for a couple of weeks. Please, I hope you enjoy this two-chapter special! I had originally planned to release part one on a HORRIBLE cliff hanger on April fools, but I guess Karma got me on that one.
Phlegethon is based on "Demon King Nobunaga" 4th ascension.
Cocytus is modelled after the Yuki-Onna from In Spectre, if someone wanted a comparison. She is much larger, but the overall face and hair length is about where I'd put it.
