Hades stood victorious in the arena, his cold gaze sweeping over the remnants of the battle. The air around him was thick with tension, the silence only broken by the ragged breathing of the defeated. On the high platform, the old man watched him with a satisfied smirk, his eyes gleaming with dark approval.
"Well done," the old man finally spoke, his voice laced with genuine admiration. "You've proven yourself worthy. Come, follow me."
Hades, ever composed, simply nodded, his expression unreadable as he fell in step behind the old man. Together, they descended from the platform and began their journey through a series of dark, winding corridors.
The sound of their footsteps echoed off the cold, stone walls, a rhythmic cadence that underscored the gravity of the moment.
