Hades stepped through the darkness, the fabric of reality bending as he returned to his throne. The air of Olympus still clung to him, thick with arrogance and old power. He had left his brothers unsettled, their fears growing like cracks in a marble pillar.
Good.
Let them whisper. Let them watch. He had no interest in their games.
He belonged here, in the depths of the Underworld.
But today, something was different.
As he settled onto his obsidian throne, the shadows stirred at the far end of the hall. A presence—not one of the dead, not of his realm. Something warmer. Brighter. Alive.
A woman stood before him.
She did not cower before his presence, nor kneel like the souls of the dead. Instead, she met his gaze with eyes like fields at dawn—green, golden, full of life.
Demeter.
The Goddess of the Harvest. Sister of Olympus.
And she had come to his world.
Hades tilted his head slightly, studying her. "Few gods enter my domain willingly."
Demeter's lips curved, but it was not quite a smile. "Few gods are as stubborn as I am."
She stepped forward, and the Underworld reacted to her presence. The cold air warmed. The barren stone beneath them cracked, and for the briefest moment, something impossible happened—a single flower bloomed at her feet.
Hades' eyes flickered to it, then back to her. This was no ordinary goddess.
"You do not belong here," he said smoothly, watching her.
Demeter did not waver. "And yet, here I am."
Silence stretched between them, thick with something unspoken, electric. A challenge. A recognition.
For the first time in his reign, Hades had met a goddess who did not fear him.
And something deep within him stirred.
The game had begun.
This sets up Hades and Demeter's first meeting, filled with tension and intrigue.