But nothing confirmed it quite like the night he almost died.
It started like any other evening in Seattle: gray skies, a steady drizzle, and the quiet hum of the city outside his apartment window. Zion's mom, Evelyn Graves, was hunched over her desk, surrounded by stacks of papers and open books. Her obsession with ancient mythology was something Zion had grown used to, even if he didn't fully understand it. She was always chasing some artifact or uncovering some long-lost story, but tonight, her research had an edge of urgency that made Zion uneasy.
"Mom, you've been at that for hours," Zion said, leaning against the doorway. His voice was quiet, but it carried a weight that made people listen. "You should take a break."
Evelyn looked up, her sharp hazel eyes meeting his. There were dark circles under them, and her usually neat braid was starting to come undone. "I'm close to something, Zion," she said, her voice tinged with excitement and exhaustion. "This… this could explain everything."
"Everything like… why my shadow tried to strangle me last week?" he asked dryly, crossing his arms. It was a joke, but not really. He still hadn't figured out how to explain what had happened during his latest argument at school. One second, he'd been standing in the hallway, and the next, his shadow had stretched across the wall, twisting into something monstrous. The other kids had screamed. Zion had run.
Evelyn's expression softened. "I'll figure it out, Zion. I promise. Just… give me a little more time."
He sighed, but before he could respond, a sudden chill swept through the room. The lights flickered, and the air grew heavy, like the pressure before a storm. Zion's instincts screamed at him to move, but he froze, his eyes darting to the window. The rain had stopped. The world outside was eerily still.
"Mom," he said, his voice low. "Something's wrong."
Evelyn stood, her movements sharp and deliberate. She grabbed a dagger from her desk—a relic she'd claimed was ceremonial but had always kept close. "Stay behind me," she said, her tone leaving no room for argument.
The apartment door exploded inward, wood splintering as a monstrous figure stepped through. It was massive, with leathery black skin, glowing red eyes, and a maw full of jagged teeth. Zion's breath caught in his throat as the creature snarled, its claws raking across the floor.
"A hellhound," Evelyn whispered, her face pale but resolute. "Zion, run."
"Not a chance," he said, his voice shaking but firm. His heart pounded as the hellhound lunged. Evelyn moved first, slashing at it with the dagger, but the beast was too fast. It swatted her aside like a rag doll, sending her crashing into the wall.
"Mom!" Zion yelled, but he didn't have time to check on her. The hellhound turned its glowing eyes on him, and he felt the weight of its gaze like a physical blow. Something deep within him stirred, a primal fear mixed with an even deeper fury.
The shadows in the room began to shift. They crept along the walls and floor, pooling around Zion's feet. He didn't know what he was doing, but he reached out instinctively, his hands trembling. The shadows responded, surging forward like a wave and slamming into the hellhound. The creature yelped, staggering back, but it wasn't done yet.
Zion stumbled, his vision swimming. Using the shadows felt like dragging a weight through his chest, but he forced himself to stand his ground. The hellhound charged again, and this time, Zion didn't wait. He focused on the shadows, imagining them solidifying, forming a barrier between him and the monster.
To his amazement, they obeyed. A wall of darkness erupted from the floor, catching the hellhound mid-leap. The creature crashed into it, howling in frustration, before it dissolved into a cloud of black smoke.
Zion fell to his knees, gasping for air. The room was silent except for the sound of his ragged breathing. He turned to his mother, who was slumped against the wall, clutching her side.
"Mom," he said, crawling over to her. "Are you okay?"
She nodded weakly, her hand trembling as she reached out to touch his face. "You… you saved us," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I knew you were special, Zion. But this… this changes everything."
Before he could respond, another presence filled the room. The temperature dropped even further, and the shadows seemed to deepen. A figure stepped out of the darkness, tall and cloaked, with a face that was both regal and terrifying.
"So," the figure said, his voice like the echo of a tomb. "You're my son."
Zion stared, his heart pounding in his chest. He didn't need to ask who the man was. The weight of his presence, the way the shadows bent toward him like loyal servants—there was no mistaking it.
Hades had come to claim him.