The God of Underworld-Chapter 102 - 2: Underworld

MIn the vastness of the Underworld, deep within the Core Section where immortal souls shimmered like stars and divine law was etched into obsidian walls, the Hanging Fortress floated over the ever-turning city of Nox like a silent moon.

Below it, entire districts thrived—homes carved from crystal, gardens blooming with eternal night-flowers, and temples devoted to forgotten gods.

What once was a land of sorrow and judgment had now become a sovereign realm—organized, prospering, divine in both order and mystery.

It was a reflection of its master.

On the highest level of the fortress, through black-stone archways guarded by river-born spirits and divine specters, lay the Throne Hall of Hades.

And upon the throne, carved from midnight and adorned with underworld gold and sleeping gems, sat the god himself.

Hades, King of the Dead. Master of Souls. High Patron of the Chthonic Realm.

He sat not in shadow or silence, but in thought.

On his lap sat a child—small, bright-eyed, brimming with divine energy barely contained in her mortal-sized form.

Nekyria, daughter of Gaia and Hades, their most perfect creation.

She was the youngest among their children, yet her aura shimmered with incomprehensible potential.

Her hair curled around her shoulders like vines, and her eyes sparkled as she kicked her feet in the air, humming softly.

She did not understand the weight of the silence in the room. But her joy was enough to make it bearable.

In Hades’ hand—his other hand, the one not gently supporting Nekyria—was a sphere the size of a golf bolf.

The Breakdown Sphere.

It pulsed softly, a dim black-purple light flickering at its core like a trapped heartbeat.

It was not divine, not mortal, not even magical in the traditional sense.

It was conceptual, a condensation of laws and potential.

Every breakthrough Hades had made in his long quest to surpass the limits of godhood—the limits placed even on those born from Chaos—was embedded in this artifact.

Every calculation, every forbidden theory, every metaphysical venture into the invisible border between god and something beyond.

The Breakdown Sphere was the sum of his obsession.

It could work.

It should work.

And yet...

He stared at it. Something was missing.

A component he could not name, a material or essence he could not quantify.

Not divine ichor, not titan marrow, not chaos thread.

Something unknowable, something perhaps yet to be discovered.

"Why doesn’t it shine?" Nekyria asked softly, her small hand reaching toward the orb. "Aunt Hecate’s orb can shine."

Hades looked at her. Her innocence was like an open flame in a world of frost.

"It’s not ready," he replied, his voice like deep water over ancient stones. "It lacks its heart."

She pouted, then leaned her cheek against his chest. "Will it help you fly?"

"You don’t need this to fly." Hades chuckled.

Nekyria grumbled, "Then why can’t I fly?"

Hades has no answer to that. But it has been theorised by him and Gaia that it is the universe’s way of suppressing something that can break out of it.

Despite clearly having the greatest potential, Nekyria has shown no remarkable abilities, her power now despite being centuries old, is still barely comparable to a Divine Spirit.

Not to mention her physical and mental growth has been slowed down drastically, making her behave like a normal, mortal child.

Hades smiled, "Because you’re still young. One day, you’ll be able to do it, I promise."

"Really?" Nekyria smiled brightly, "Then I can’t wait to grow up!"

Hades chuckled, a rare moment for the ever silent and brooding(he does not brood) god of underworld.

At that moment, mist gathered before the throne.

From the swirling grey stepped Hecate, her form briefly visible in the veil of fog. Her staff was alight with purple fire, and her cloak trailed behind her like liquid dusk.

She bowed with a soft smile, her eyes shifting to Nekyria for a moment, who waved at her enthusiastically.

"Greetings Hecate," Hades greeted, tucking the sphere away in the folds of his robes. "I trust you’ve completed my command?"

"Yes, my lord. I’ve completed your command," she said. "The priest in Herion received my message. The city now knows the prophecy: war is coming."

Hades nodded.

"Good," he said. "Let them prepare. Let them prepare. They will surely be engulfed in this war against the giants.

Just then, Hecate raised her head and asked. "Will you not intervene, lord Hades? Herion is still a state that believes in us. It has been with us since before kingdoms even rose."

For a moment, Hades didn’t speak.

His gaze drifted beyond the throne room, through the walls, through the mists of the Underworld, past the rivers and rebirth gates.

His mind touched upon the memory of Herios—the mortal king whose soul he had watched cross from the River Styx to Lethe, and then willingly cast himself into reincarnation.

The First Hero.

The first man Hades truly admired.

"Herion does not need the gods then, and they don’t need us now." Hades turned towards her, "Do you believe so little of humanity?"

"...my lord," Hecate bit her lips, "...I just don’t want to see that place fall."

"If it falls, it falls by its own strength or weakness," Hades interrupted, calmly. "I will not intervene. Herios believed that humanity can conquer the stars, this war will show him that he is right."

Hecate stared at him for a few moments, but soon sighed in helplessness.

Nekyria looked up at him again, puzzled by the seriousness of the voices around her.

"Will there be a big fight?" she asked softly.

Hecate smiled at the child, a rare gesture for the feared witch of underworld. "Yes, my lady. But if the world burns, the Underworld will remain. And so will you. So you don’t have to worry."

"The world will burn?" Nekyria’s eyes widened, "Then I won’t be able to play there anymore!"

Hecate chuckled softly, "Yes, princess."

Nekyria puffed her cheeks. Then turned towards Hades, smiled, and smugly looked at Hecate. "Then Papa will make it not burn."

Hades chuckled faintly, brushing her hair with a rare tenderness. "Maybe princess, maybe." frёewebηovel.cѳm

The room grew quiet again.

Finally, Hecate stood and lowered her head. "I will continue my vigilance. The mortal world shifts rapidly. Gaia’s breath is already stirring volcanoes in the east. I sense a strong giant advancing to Olympus ."

Hades leaned back into his throne, the weight of eternity pressing against his shoulders once more.

"Is that so?" He said, "Then Olympus better be ready, the war will begin soon."

"And you?" Hecate asked.

He looked down at Nekyria, then beyond, the orb pulsed faintly in his robe.

"I will continue my search... Don’t worry I won’t leave," he said. "I promise you that."

Hecate’s eyes softened faintly, but she said nothing. She bowed again and disappeared in mist.

And in the great throne hall of the Underworld, silence returned—broken only by the quiet hum of a child’s lullaby, and the heartbeat of something far, far beyond godhood, waiting to be born.