The underworld's chill stretched its icy tendrils into the mortal realm, freezing the once-thriving field into a barren expanse. Crops withered, flowers crumbled into ash, and the sweet hum of life was replaced by a haunting silence. At the heart of the desolation stood Hades, cloaked in darkness, his pale face carved with unyielding resolve.
The god of the underworld held his bident loosely in one hand, its jagged prongs glowing faintly with an ominous light. Shadows curled around his feet, writhing like serpents eager to strike. His dark eyes flickered with a mix of irritation and caution as he watched his sister approach.
Demeter strode forward, her golden hair streaked with strands of green, as though nature itself clung to her like a lifeline. Her emerald robe shimmered with the colors of spring, but her expression was anything but serene. Her eyes, once warm with maternal affection, now burned with righteous fury.
