As contradictions fermented within the palace atop the ocean, deep below, in the Underworld.
A pale purple moon illuminated the ashen soil, impervious to the influences of the mortal realm.
Almost the moment Hera clasped the thunder to strike the sheepskin shield, a silver serpent flashed across the doorway to the Underworld.
Eternal Night and Darkness enveloped both sides, the ceaseless River of Sorrow churning with waves.
Due to the unique spatial rules of the Underworld, no matter from where one came above ground, they would always arrive at the same entrance. Thus, Hades had built a gateway, dividing the mortal realm from the Underworld.
And at that moment, no living creature stood before this grand door, only a man clad in black armor, his complexion pale, leaning on his sword. Beside him, souls undulated with the flow of the Styx River.
Of course, calling him a human was only in appearance.
