In the grand scheme of existence, all things generate and restrain each other—a law as old as creation itself. Even supreme gods are bound by this principle. Cronus, for instance, could only transcend fate by conquering his three heirs. Should he fail, he would find himself imprisoned within the confines of destiny.
Hades, too, danced on this delicate balance, knowing that one day, a figure wielding the power of the God-Killing Flame would stand before him. The outcome would hinge on preparation—who could truly seize control and surpass the world's constraints.
The eucalyptus tree, born in the underworld, embodied this intertwining of creation and destruction. It held the power to elevate the Magic Star, while simultaneously possessing the potential to harm it. Conversely, the fruits of the Luanzi tree and the 108 rosary beads they produced could inflict real damage on the underworld's warriors. Such was the intricate dance of mutual creation and restraint between the Magic Star and the eucalyptus tree.
As Hades pondered, he understood the deeper implications of Prometheus's offer. Planting the eucalyptus tree was no simple task. The tree symbolized the queen of the underworld, an essential counterpart to Hades himself. Together, they represented a complete realm, where both gods and their domains existed in harmony.
After a moment of reflection, Hades replied, "I will accept your offer. The seeds of the eucalyptus tree and the essence of the ocean—both will be mine. However, understand this: the God-Killing Flame is the ultimate fire, a nemesis to all gods. You must be prepared to wield it wisely."
"Thank you, Master Hades," Prometheus replied earnestly, bowing deeply. His heart raced with anticipation, knowing the significance of this moment.
With a flick of his fingers, Hades summoned the God-Killing Flame, which danced and flickered with raw, untamed power.
"Ah!" Prometheus cried out, enveloped in the searing flames. A crack formed beneath him, a chasm that threatened to consume him whole. If he could endure this trial, he would emerge stronger, able to return to the surface. Yet failure meant being devoured by the darkness, forever lost to oblivion.
"Do you truly believe Prometheus can master such a force?" Thanatos inquired, concern lacing his voice.
Hades, stroking Cerberus, replied nonchalantly, "He cannot. The powers of the God-Killing Flame are not for the unchosen. Only a select few can wield such strength, and Prometheus is not among them."
"Then why put him in this perilous position?" Thanatos pressed.
Hypnos interjected gently, "If memory serves, Prometheus is called the god of fire. While he may not wield the God-Killing Flame, he could preserve its essence until a worthy successor emerges."
"Indeed," Hades confirmed. "The forthcoming generation, the fourth God-King, embodies the very essence of fire. He will be uniquely suited to control the God-Killing Flame, just as the others hold dominion over their respective powers."
The twin gods began to grasp the larger narrative unfolding before them. If anyone could command the God-Killing Flame effectively, it would be the fourth God-King—the embodiment of fire itself.
Yet Hades, despite holding the God-Killing Thunder and Flame, knew he was inferior in mastery compared to those for whom these powers were destined. The irony was not lost on him; he possessed the tools but lacked the specialization.
"Master Hades," Thanatos began hesitantly.
Hypnos followed, "Will our actions in the underworld contribute to the rise of this fourth God-King?"
Hades regarded them with an intensity that suggested he saw beyond the present. "The world has transformed into a game, with Poseidon and me as the primary players. Zeus, however, is not a worthy contender. Let's see what kind of spectacle he puts on as we move toward the God-King banquet in a hundred thousand years."
His gaze turned distant, as if peering into a future laced with uncertainty and promise.
Once more, Hades sent the ocean essence into the Magic Star, his focus shifting to the eucalyptus seeds cradled in his palm. For a fleeting moment, his expression grew complex, hinting at the confusion of feelings that lay beneath his stoic exterior.
He understood that the seeds represented more than just a powerful resource; they symbolized union and love—a connection to his queen. Yet, as quickly as this vulnerability surfaced, Hades regained his composure, knowing that he was never one to act recklessly.
Time was on his side. The next hundred millennia would unfold in layers of intrigue and strategy, and he was determined to navigate them carefully. There was a world beyond this one, waiting to be explored—one that held its own mysteries and potential.
With thoughts swirling, Hades contemplated crossing the threshold to that realm, eager to uncover the secrets that lay on the other side of the world gate.