A dream.
He could not move, but his mind was racing through his memories. Tyrant Hades relived his whole life on autopilot, as if he was not the one piloting his own body, or watching a documentary about himself.
He saw his youth, a harsh childhood wrought with blood and countless battles.
He saw the faces of his siblings, vicious as he fought to the death with them, as he had personally torn their throats out and drank their blood to survive.
He saw the faces of his parents, indifferent, whom he aided in their hunt before he personally watched their death and torn the throat of their killer.
He saw the faces of the mates he had taken, passionate, who birthed his children, and whom he left after several years.
He saw the faces of the children he helped birth, dependent, and how he taught hem to hunt before abandoning them along with their mother.
He saw every beast he's slain, from his birth to his inevitable death. He saw their faces in life, calm as the moment they encountered they both knew that one of them must die so the other can live. He saw their faces in battle, fierce as they gave their best efforts to take his life. He saw their faces in death, unwilling as he tore their throats, broke their skulls, pierced their hearts, or shredded their bodies.
He saw Pluto, his last opponent before his destiny ended, his face peaceful in his death. Maybe he had expected this calamity.
At the same time he had been thinking. He thought about the things he could've done differently in his life.
Could he have got along with his siblings? Could he have saved his parents? Could he have stayed with his children longer? What would change if he did these things?
He did not know how long he had dreamt, for he had been sleeping for a long time.
Honestly, it's been a long time since he's slept like this. Neither had he ever slept so long before.
Was this death? To relive your entire life before thinking about what could you have done better? How long would this go on?
Eventually he closed off his mind, as thinking too long might make him regret dying. The original dimness of his memories of the abyss faded into pitch black.
———————-———————-—————-
His eyes opened abruptly. He didn't know how he could tell, but he knew.
He was still in pitch darkness, but he could feel himself faintly trembling. He could feel his breath, his heartbeat, and his body heat. He could feel all these signs of life rapidly increasing in his body, heat spreading to all parts of his body, like stepping into a hot shower after a cold day.
He tried to move his limbs. They responded, he could feel his muscles tensing and his nerves reacting, but he could not move, as if something was binding him tightly.
It felt similar to the Abyssal earth he was familiar with, the course dirt moist with blood. The smell of death familiar in his nose. It was cool like the depths of a cavern long forgotten by time.
He flexed his entire body, bracing the whole of whatever strength he had gained to push against whatever had so tightly enclosed him. At the same time, when he attempted to unsheathe his blades and claws, they seemed stuck, like a clog in the sink. His jaws too, could not be opened to reveal his fangs as the restriction was too tight.
He met resistance in every part of his body, letting him know that he was trapped in some sort of shell or capsule. The walls did not move, but all he could was try again.
Before he exhausted himself, he felt the walls that held him faintly bend. He could now tell that there was indeed hope to free himself.
Alas, he could only wait for his strength to gather before he tried again. Strangely, he did not feel the need to eat nor drink, and his fatigue recovered quickly. He soon realized that strange streams of energy were flowing into him from the prison that bound him.
He did not know anymore whether it was good or bad to leave, could this prison be what keeps keeps him alive? Would he die the moment he left?
Eventually he decided to wait til he had enough strength to try again, as just accepting his imprisonment without resistance would be insufferable to him who's life involved constant movement, to move, kill, and eat constantly.
After slowly accepting energy from the prison and gathering his strength, he put his effort into breaking free once more.
He tensed his entire body, before attacking the prison with his entire body. This time, he put his effort into finding the weakest point of the prison, so he could put his focus there in the future.
This time, he felt the whole of the prison creaking faintly. He could tell that it had weakened. Was it because of his previous struggle?
He instinctively knew that that possibly was impossible. His strength was negligible at that time. he then deduced that it must be the prison itself was transferring its strength to him.
It was akin to some sort of egg, providing him nutrients and strength until the he had the strength to free himself, except the nutrients came from the egg itself, thus lowering its durability the more he absorbed.
With this new information, he decided to accept the strength of the prison for longer, until his strength was high and the shell was weak. He was capable of waiting. Even though his life was motion, to gather strength for an ambush or strong strike was not uncommon.
And so he slept, biding his power.
———————-———————-—————-
When he awoke, he pushed against the wall lightly. He instantly heard a crackle. He must've slept for awhile as the shell was currently brittle like a wall of sand.
He thrust his paw into the shell with the greatest strength he could muster, he didn't dare underestimate this prison that held him for so long.
Fortunately it tore through like paper, and his paw sunk into tough earth and dirt. He now realized he was underground, buried alive.
He could now contract his claws, which he used to completely tear himself out of the prison.
He was now surrounded by earth, slowly starting to weigh down on him, with the remains of his prison before him. The space where his shell was at previously had made a small nook in the earth that had long settled.
It turned out to be an egg after all. His prison looked like smooth, black, obsidian, elliptical orb. It was thin now, but he presumed it must've been thicker before.
He resolutely ate the shell, as that was the only source of nutrients he had right now. The energy left in it was scarce, as most of it had already been absorbed by him.
Then he dug up. Opposite the direction of the gravity pulling him down.
He dug for awhile, as he could feel his strength was not as it used to be, but the earth gradually grew thinner, softer.
Eventually a pale light started to break through the shallow layer of earth that was ahead...