The God of Underworld

Orpheus collapsed to his knees, his breath ragged, chest heaving as sweat clung to his skin and his trembling fingers slipped from the lyre's strings.

His body screamed, his soul ached, yet his song still lingered in the air, wrapped around Cerberus like chains of gentle love.

The great hound lay curled at his feet, eyes closed, breathing deeply as though it were nothing more than a pup.

For a long moment, Orpheus simply panted, staring down at his hands, wondering how he was still alive.

Then, the air trembled.

Hades's voice, deep and resonant as the foundations of the world, filled the chamber.

"Well done, mortal."

The words carried no thunder, yet they shook Orpheus's very bones. His heart nearly stopped as the god continued.

"You have endured the trials. You have subdued my hound. You have proven your love, your will, and your wisdom."

Before him, space itself warped.

A vortex of swirling violet mist bloomed from nothing, its edges crackling with black flame, its core spiraling endlessly inward.

The air grew colder, yet within that portal, Orpheus felt something warm, something familiar.

Eurydice.

Hades's voice resounded once more.

"Go, Orpheus. She awaits you beyond. As promised, I shall permit you to return together to the Overworld."

Orpheus raised his head, tears already forming in his weary eyes. "T-truly? Can I really be with her once again, Lord Hades?"

"I am not a god who breaks his word," Hades replied, the weight of eternity pressing upon every syllable. "But hear me well: you must hide conceal your return. Hide your identities, never reveal the truth of this passage, nor the bargains made. Swear it upon the River Styx, or your love will be cursed forever."

Orpheus swallowed hard.

His throat burned, his voice trembled, but his words were firm. "I swear it. On the River Styx, I will keep your command."

Lightning flickered across the portal, sealing his oath.

Silence followed. Then Hades's voice echoed one last time.

"Then go. Claim your love. Let no doubt stain your heart, Orpheus—for one doubt, one mistake, and all shall be lost."

Orpheus placed a trembling hand on the boat's edge to steady himself.

He rose, legs weak but determined. His gaze fixed on the swirling violet path ahead, his heart hammering with hope and fear in equal measure.

And with a final, steadying breath, Orpheus stepped forward into the portal.

*

*

*

The portal shimmered, swallowing Orpheus's figure into its violet depths.

Silence settled over the chamber like a heavy curtain.

The gods in Hades' office said nothing at first, watching the fading ripples of the gateway.

It was Athena who finally broke the quiet. Her sharp eyes lingered on the dissipating portal as she spoke, voice even but edged with curiosity.

"Why bind him with such an oath, Lord Hades? Love as pure as his—why demand secrecy?"

Hades's gaze, dark and unreadable, turned toward her. Papers fluttered faintly across his desk as the Underworld itself seemed to breathe with his words.

"Because if mortals discover that they may snatch the dead from me through trials and tears, they will flock here in endless waves. They will tear themselves apart chasing miracles. Kingdoms would crumble, faith in the natural order would wither, and chaos would reign. I will not permit such ruin."

Athena's brows furrowed, her calculating mind running through the implications.

Yet before she could speak again, Hades's eyes sharpened, boring into her like twin flames.

"And you, daughter of Zeus—this oath binds you as well. You must not speak of what you've seen here."

Athena inhaled slowly, then inclined her head with regal calm. "I swear it."

But as she straightened, a glimmer of thought sparked behind her eyes.

She would honor the vow, yes. But she was also the weaver of stories, the chronicler of heroes.

And in her mind, a tale began to take form—a tale that would preserve Orpheus's love without revealing the dangerous truth.

A soft smile curved her lips as she decided:

She would tell it differently.

That Hades, in his grim mercy, gave Orpheus a warning. That he must not look back until both he and Eurydice had crossed fully into the light of the living world.

And in the tale, Orpheus, eager, desperate, unable to resist the longing in his heart, looked back too soon.

Thus, both he and his beloved were lost, trapped in the Underworld forever.

It would be remembered not as a path to cheat death, but as a warning: that love, though powerful, could falter under doubt.

Athena folded her hands before her, serene as ever.

In her mind, the myth of Orpheus was already being born.

"Well then, now that's all over with..."

Hecate was the first to move. With a sigh, she reached over, seized Athena by the collar of her elegant chiton, and hauled her toward the door.

"Come, owl-head. The hero's quest is done. I'll throw you back into the overworld before you start clawing for another excuse to linger."

Athena did not resist.

Her expression remained calm, her posture regal, as though she had not been dragged like a sack of grain.

Her mind was elsewhere already, weaving verses, crafting a legend that would outlive centuries.

The tale must be told, she thought. But told carefully.

Hera rose gracefully from her seat. She turned to Hades and inclined her head in a formal bow.

"Well then, Hades. I will be taking my leave first. I still have work to do. And thank you for indulging my whims."

With a swirl of her golden robes, she departed, her divine presence fading from the chamber.

That left only Aphrodite. She lingered by the mirror, its surface now dark and still.

She traced her fingers along the frame, humming softly, a wistful tune that seemed almost too tender for her.

Her eyes never left the void where Orpheus's trials had once unfolded.

Hades returned to his desk. The scratch of his pen was steady, deliberate, a sound like the turning of fate itself.

He did not look up, nor did he acknowledge the goddess still lost in thought.

The Underworld must returned to its rhythm.

After all, the tale of Orpheus was now over.

Aphrodite's soft humming finally broke into words. Her eyes shimmered as she turned to Hades, her voice lilting like silk.

"By the way, Lord Hades… what do you think of Orpheus's love?"

Hades did not look up from his parchment at first. But he scratching of his pen slowed, then ceased.

He set the quill down and leaned back slightly, thoughtful.

"Surprised," he admitted at last. His deep voice echoed low through the chamber. "But… I cannot claim to understand it. Since my birth, I have never felt such a love for another. So I truly do not know what to say."

Aphrodite tilted her head, eyes narrowing faintly, testing his words. "Is that truly the case?"

Hades's purple eyes lifted to meet hers. "Yes."

The goddess of love leaned closer, her smile sly, though there was a fragile tremor beneath it.

"Then… if I were Eurydice, and you Orpheus, would you undergo such trials to win me back?"

The silence lingered, heavy.

Even Aphrodite, bold as she was, couldn't help but feel nervous.

Then Hades spoke.

"No."

The single word shattered Aphrodite's poise.

Her smile faltered, her heart twisting sharply in her chest, as if the rejection were a spear through flesh.

For a fleeting moment, her divine beauty dimmed under the weight of that answer.

But Hades's voice continued, steady as the earth itself.

"If I were Orpheus… I would not let you die in the first place. If I were Orpheus, no harm would ever touch you. I would make certain of it."

Aphrodite froze. Then, slowly, warmth bloomed across her face like dawn breaking over the sea.

Her lips curled into a bright, dazzling smile, brighter than any gem in Hades's treasury.

"Lord Hades!"

With a cry of delight, she leapt toward him, wrapping herself around him in a sudden embrace.

She perched on his lap as though it were her rightful throne, pressing herself against his chest, her soft laughter melting into breathless moans.

"Ah—my lord! I knew it, I knew you loved me!" she cooed, nuzzling against him, intoxicated by his rare words of devotion.

Hades let out a long, resigned sigh, resting his hand lightly on her back, more to steady her than to return the affection.

His eyes flicked toward the mountain of paperwork still waiting for him, as if to remind himself that his duties would not vanish no matter how tightly Aphrodite clung to him.

The Lord of the Underworld endured her embrace in silence, his expression caught somewhere between weariness… and the faintest, imperceptible softness.