I sat on my throne, fingers tapping rhythmically against the obsidian armrest, my thoughts drifting to the weight of the armor now encasing my form. The Necro-Steel black metal shimmered faintly in the low light of the throne room, a masterwork born from the tireless hands of my Cyclopes. Brontes, the eldest and most skilled of his brothers, had spent countless sleepless nights perfecting every detail.
The armor, dubbed the Lich King Armor by its creators, was a seamless blend of Necrosteel, Adamantine, and Ossium- the bones of a drakon. This armor was actually the completed set of the Famous Helm of Darkness that Hades uses in the myths, and it seems that fate wants Hades to have it one way or another.
The Cyclopes stood near the entrance of the throne room, Brontes, Steropes, and Arges wore armor of a similar design to mine, they gripped their hammers and were talking to each other about somethings, i didn't want to overhear so I ignored them.
The Hekatonkheires, Briareus and Cottereus, had both decided to not wear armor as they wanted to go all out and it would restrict their bodies when they went full hundred handed modes.
Abel knelt nearby, absentmindedly tightening the straps to his armor. Abel wore light armor—practical for a rider—with a xiphos strapped to his waist. Despite his casual demeanor, I saw the focus in his eyes. I had told him that he did not need to fight and yet he waited to show his support to his new god or something. I only had time to teach him the basics of fighting so I hoped that he did well.
Just in case I had given him my blessing and granted him some control over the shadows, a gift that he had been practicing. He had Brontes help him get these red tribal tattoos and several runes that he said would enhance his body and abilities.
Cain, on the other hand, looked really nervous. He was brought here, early this morning, being dragged unconscious by Thanatos. The first killer wasn't that... amazing as I had thought. He and Abel don't talk to each other and Abel refuses to forgive his brother.
Cain wore only the armored pants and pteruges, leaving his chest and arms exposed showing several blue tattoos that covered his body similar to his brothers. The mark of Cain is branded on his right arm. He was leaning against one of the pillars and playing with his daggers.
Even the Grim Reapers were waiting. They stood in silence, their new weapons gleaming. Each bore armor, but theirs was sleeker and had a skeletal design to them, designed for speed and agility. Thanatos carried a scythe, Keres had two curved daggers, and Moros the man who was wrapped like a mummy held had a nine-ring broadsword.
The doors creaked open, and Nyx entered, followed closely behind by Erebus. I had requested their assistance in overlooking my realm during the war, and since they had nothing else to do they actually agreed.
I rose from my throne, my fingers tightening around the hilt of my divine longsword as I drew it from its sheath. The black blade gleamed, reflecting the flickering light of the Underworld's fires. All eyes turned to me, the room falling into a silence so profound it seemed the Underworld itself held its breath.
"We stand on the edge of history," I began, my voice steady but laced with the gravity of the moment. "This is no ordinary battle, no petty skirmish for land or power. We march to war against the Titans themselves—against my father, Cronos, and all those who seek to drag the world back into chaos."
I paused, scanning the faces of those before me. They were my people—souls, spirits, and warriors, each one devoted to the Underworld and its cause.
"I will not lie to you," I continued, my voice firm yet sincere. "This will not be easy. The Titans are ancient, powerful, and relentless. Their strength dwarfs that of any foe you have faced before. But I know this—no strength is greater than the courage of those who fight for something they believe in. And you—each and every one of you—fight for more than yourselves. You fight for this realm, for the freedom of this world, and for a future unshackled by tyranny!"
I stepped forward, raising my sword high above my head, its dark metal gleaming. "This blade was forged by Brontes and his brothers—a weapon that I shall use to sever off my own fathers head! You are all part of this realm, a part of the Underworld! We are the guardians of life and death, the keepers of balance! And together, we will show the Titans that their age is over!"
The room stirred, murmurs rising into a unified sound of agreement. I saw it in their eyes—the resolve, the fire burning bright within them.
"Some of you may fall," I admitted, my tone somber yet respectful. "You will return here, to the Underworld, and each and every one of you shall be rewarded for joining us against the Titans."
I lowered my sword, pointing it outward, as if directing their energy to the fight ahead. "Look around you—these are not just soldiers standing at your side. They are your brothers, your sisters, your family. Together, we stand as one. Together, we fight as one. And together, we will rise victorious!"
The room erupted in a roar, weapons clanging, voices shouting in unison. I felt the weight of my nerves still pressing against my chest, but I pushed it aside. I could not falter—not now, not ever.
"Prepare yourselves!" I commanded, my voice cutting through the noise. "Today, we march to war! Against Cronos! Against the Titans! And for a future we will build together!"
With a final surge of cheers, my soldiers readied themselves, as I wrapped all of us in this blanket of darkness, mass teleportation, had to be careful or the darkness could consume all of them.
The throne room dissolved around us, as we found ourselves at the base of Mount Ida. I moved to stand in front of my army while watching everything silently. Abel was reigning in Alastor to my chariot. The massive black horse pawed at the ground impatiently, his white mane and tail really made him stand out. Strapped behind him was Orphnaeus, Aethon, Nycteus, and Xanthus—a young stallion that was the son of Nycteus.
Zeus's voice boomed in the distance, his typical flair for theatrics on full display. He stood before a crowd of nymphs, satyrs, and a handful of Titans who had joined our cause—Selene and Helios among them, their luminous forms contrasting sharply with the others. Prometheus and Themis stood close by, their expressions unreadable, while Nike, Kratos, and Bia exuded an air of readiness for the battle to come.
I ignored Zeus's speech entirely. It was a performance, a spectacle meant to inspire awe, but I had no time for his arrogance. Instead, I turned to Abel, who was adjusting the harness on Alastor. "Ensure the chariot is ready," I instructed.
Abel nodded, his hands steady despite the weight of the task. "Yes, Lord Hades. Alastor here is quite eager for the fight."
"Good," I replied, placing a hand briefly on the horse's neck. Alastor snorted, as if in agreement. "Make sure the others are prepared as well. Xanthus looks really nervous, when you are done go get ready yourself."
Abel nodded as he quickly got back to work. I looked at everyone else and they looked prepared and were talking to each other. The thousands of skeletal soldiers that I had prepared were standing silently.
As I was waiting I felt a presence at my side. I looked down to see Themis, her gaze looked sharp and seemed to be questioning something.
"Hades," she began, her voice carrying the weight of authority, "the time is nearing. We must decide—who will lead us in this war?"
The question was a spark in a room full of dry tinder. The murmurs began immediately, soldiers and allies alike glancing between Zeus and me. Before I could respond, Zeus's voice cut through the air.
"That would be me, of course," he said, stepping forward with that insufferable grin plastered across his face. "It's only fitting that the future king of the gods leads us to victory."
I narrowed my eyes but held my tongue. "And why should it be you?" I countered after a beat, my voice calm but laced with steel. "The Underworld has provided the largest army. My forces are disciplined and prepared. If anyone should lead, it's me."
Zeus's grin faltered for a moment before returning, sharper this time. "Your army may be large, brother, but leadership requires more than numbers. I have the charisma, the vision. You rule the dead; I rule the living."
I could feel my eyes twitch at that comment. The tension crackled between us like a live wire, and Themis raised a hand to silence the brewing argument. "Enough," she said firmly. "For now, Lord Zeus will lead."
Zeus's grin widened, and he shot me a look that made my hands itch to reach for my sword. "Don't worry, brother," he said mockingly. "I'll make sure to leave some glory for you."
I said nothing, focusing instead on preparing my forces. The time for battle was drawing near, and personal grievances would have to wait.
When the moment came to teleport to the base of Mount Olympus, Zeus raised his hand, summoning a surge of lightning that enveloped the majority of our forces. In a flash, they were gone—my army conspicuously excluded. I exhaled slowly, the familiar frustration bubbling beneath the surface.
"Coward," I muttered under my breath before turning to my soldiers. "Form ranks. We'll take our own path."
I let the darkness rise again, swirling around us like a living entity. The transition was smoother this time, the shadows depositing us at the base of Mount Olympus with precision. As the darkness faded, I saw Zeus standing nearby, his smug expression firmly in place.
"What's your deal, Zeus?" I demanded, striding toward him. "We are fighting the same war, there is no time for you to act like a damn fool."
He shrugged, his tone infuriatingly casual. "You're a big boy, Hades. I figured you could handle yourself. Besides, it's not my job to do everything for you."
I felt the anger flare, hot and immediate. "Not your job? You dare—"
Before I could finish, the distant sound of war horns shattered the tension. Every eye turned toward the horizon, where the Titans started marching down from their home.
At their forefront, Cronos, the King of the Titans. His scythe was raised over his shoulder, the crescent moon blade catching the faintest glimmers of light. He was dressed in only his chiton and looked as if this was just another Saturday for him.
Behind him was Atlas, the Titan of strength and the four directional Titans.
Hyperion, the Titan of light and the pillar of the East. Iapetus the Titan of mortality and the pillar of the West. Koios, the Titan of intelligence and the Pillar of the North. Krios the Titan of the heavenly constellations and the pillar of the South.
Menoetius, Astraeus, Pallas and Perses where behind them. It seemed that not alot of the Titans wanted to fight in the war.
My hand instinctively went to my side, gripping the hilt of my longsword. The weapon hummed with a dark, restless energy, as if it too could sense the coming storm. Without hesitation, I stepped onto my chariot, the reins snapping in my grip as Alastor and the other steeds tensed, their eyes burning with an otherworldly fire. Alastor, the leader, pawed at the ground impatiently.
"Steady," I commanded, my voice cutting through the mounting tension. My soldiers stood firm, their disciplined ranks unshaken by the sight of the advancing Titan army. Shadows swirled around me as I raised a hand to my face, and the Helm of Darkness materialized, its cold weight settling over me like a second skin.
From the Titan lines, Cronos bellowed, his voice a guttural roar that shook the very earth beneath our feet. He swung his scythe in a wide arc as he pointed it toward us. "Kill those damn gods!"
the Titans surged forward, their thunderous charge shaking the earth. Zeus roared as he raised his thunderbolt as it crackled and sparked as he yelled for us to charge.
I snapped the reins.