The Nameless Heir

He sat beside the Titan's lifeless body, staring at it with a faint scowl. His hand dragged down his face.

"Damn it… how the hell do I find Thanatos now? I got too excited in the fight and forgot to ask him where he kept him hostage."

Silence lingered. He clicked his tongue, then his eyes narrowed.

"…Hypnos."

A long sigh escaped him. "Oh, yeah. That idiot."

Closing his eyes, he muttered, "Yo, Hypnos. I need your help."

The air shimmered, and within a heartbeat Hypnos appeared in front of him. He caught sight of the corpse and yelped. His arms flailed as he stumbled back, wild and graceless.

"Ahh! Why's it staring at me like that?!" He pointed at the Titan's glazed eyes, nearly tripping over his own feet.

His jaw tightened. His voice dropped, flat and clipped. "Don't worry. He's dead."

Hypnos peeked again, still keeping his distance, then shuffled back a step. He ignored it, lifting his hand. "I need you to help me find your brother."

"Eh? Why me?" Hypnos tilted his head, pouting, his hair falling messily across his eyes.

His patience frayed. The reply came out sharp. "Because you're twins. You should have that weird twin sense. Just use it."

Hypnos puffed out his cheeks and stomped a foot like a sulky kid. "That's just a rumor! Twins don't sense each other like that!"

He dragged his fingers down the bridge of his nose. "Damn it, just try."

Hypnos muttered under his breath, grumbling nonsense, kicking at the ground with his toe. Then he froze, eyes going wide. His voice lowered to a whisper.

"…I can sense him. He's calling to me."

A palm smacked across his own face, sliding down slowly. "You're lucky you're Nyx's child. Or else…"

Hypnos only smiled sheepishly, rocking back on his heels, humming to himself as if he'd done something great.

He exhaled, forcing himself to stand. He brushed the dirt from his clothes, eyes sharp. "Let's go, dummy."

"Coming~!" Hypnos chirped, skipping forward, every step louder than it needed to be. His humming picked up again, grating against his nerves. The more the boy talked, the more his shoulders stiffened.

They walked—some steps, some short flights—across the island. It stretched larger than expected, the horizon dragging on until the ground split ahead.

A massive hole yawned in the middle of nowhere. The air twisted around it, pulling at anything too close. It felt wrong, like the earth itself was trying to swallow them whole.

Hypnos pointed with both hands, eyes wide. "He's down there."

His gaze flicked to him. "Let's go."

The boy shrank back, wings twitching. "It's too scary. I'll… wait here." His voice dropped to a mutter, like he hoped there wouldn't be any pushback.

"Fine," he said flatly, already stepping forward. "But if that Titan somehow gets back up—he did mention wanting to bite your head off."

He started to leave but stopped when he caught the look on Hypnos's face. The kid's mouth hung open, eyes darting to the corpse in the distance. Then his legs kicked into motion.

"Wait!" he yelped, sprinting after him. He nearly tripped on his own feet before flapping once to steady himself.

He didn't slow.

With a sharp breath, Hypnos launched forward. He latched onto his arm like a panicked child clinging to a parent at night. Together, they dove into the hole.

The fall dragged on, the dark swallowing everything. He stayed still, cloak trailing behind him, eyes fixed downward.

Beside him, Hypnos screamed his lungs out. The sound echoed off the walls, warped and sharp, almost demonic in the empty black.

His jaw tightened. For a moment he swore Hypnos had forgotten the most obvious thing. He swung his hand out and smacked him on the head. "Shut up already. You can fly, you idiot."

Hypnos blinked, startled, then froze mid-scream. "Oh." His tiny wings snapped open clumsily, holding him steady. He drifted closer, tilting onto his back like he was lying on an invisible bed. "How deep do you think this goes?"

He didn't even glance at him. "Look down."

Hypnos leaned his head over lazily—then slammed face-first into solid ground with a wet thud.

He landed a step away, boots hitting stone without a sound. His eyes flicked to the boy's twitching form, completely unimpressed. "We're here."

What he saw made him pause. A soft laugh slipped out as he scanned the horizon.

It looked like the Underworld—only wrong. The rivers, the rocks, even the air itself… all there, but thinner, incomplete, like someone had sketched it from memory and never finished the lines. The sky hung gray and low, painted instead of real. Shadows clung to the ground, but they cast no weight.

"That idiot wanted it to be Hades so badly he built his own," he muttered under his breath. "But it was never enough. He wanted what Hades had."

Behind him, Hypnos stumbled to his feet, brushing dust off his face with both hands. "Oh… we're back in the Underworld?"

He shook his head and started walking forward. "This isn't the Underworld. It's a copy." His tone stayed flat. "Come on. Let's go find your brother."

They crossed a river that mimicked the Styx, wide and flat, its surface holding no ripple.

A skeleton drifted past in a warped boat. Its head hung low, sockets black, empty. The oar dipped once, rose again. No sound.

The air hung stale, heavy without breath. The rocks looked brittle, the kind that might fall apart under a hand.

"This place feels pathetic," he muttered.

"Damn, Iapetus really was a fanboy, huh?" Hypnos said, wide-eyed.

"Seems so," he replied. "He was always terrified of dying. That's why he wanted to control the Underworld."

Hypnos's head dipped. "He'd been broken too many times—tortures, punishments without end. He wasn't about to return to Tartarus. That was the reason behind it all."

His steps slowed. "Sad."

Hypnos slowed too, head dipping. "Yes. Tartarus is monster. Very bad."

"Wait—he's a living thing?"

"Yes." Hypnos nodded quickly, eyes shifting around the dark. "He has form. Gaia and Tartarus made many strong monsters." His voice dropped, almost like he was afraid the walls might be listening. "Typhon… he is their strongest child. Very dangerous."

He kept walking, but the weight of those words pressed on him. He didn't mind learning about Gaia and Tartarus, but one thing stuck with him—something he couldn't shake. He fought Iapetus, saw his strength firsthand. But planning? No. The Titan hadn't felt like the type. He turned slightly toward Hypnos. "Do you think he came up with that plan alone?"

Hypnos froze, eyes going wide. "You think someone guided him?"

"I believe so."

"Who was it?"

"I don't know." His gaze narrowed, sweeping across the hollow landscape. The still river. The painted sky. The weightless shadows. "But whoever it was… it wasn't a Titan."

While they flew over the mock river Styx, a black shape loomed in the distance. A mountain, massive, jagged, and wrong. It was black enough to swallow all light. Clouds clung to the peak, and lava cut its way down the slopes, red veins burning against the hollow air.

Hypnos lifted a trembling hand and pointed. "He's in there."

His eyes narrowed. Figures. Of course it would be. He stayed silent, wings angling toward the mountain. Blood slid from his palm and struck the water in slow drops. The surface shivered, black lines breaking across it like veins spreading through glass.

His shadows stirred in response, eager to take over everything. At least this way, the dead and hollow things here would bend to him if it came to it.

Inside the volcano, the air was hot and heavy, stinging with every breath. Chains scraped against stone somewhere deeper in the dark. He was there.

Thanatos. Shackled, broken. His skin had a sickly greenish cast, like the false world itself was leeching him away piece by piece. His wings, once feathers of midnight, were bare, stripped and skeletal. His face was sunken, drawn tight, no trace left of the cold, warlike presence remembered. He looked worse than even his father had, straining to hold the gates.

He froze. For a moment he didn't see Thanatos. He saw his father again, standing at the threshold of the Underworld, chains heavy on his arms, body spent and breaking as he gave everything away. That image cut deeper than expected. His chest tightened, the kind of ache he never admitted to anyone. This was too close. Too familiar.

Hypnos nearly tripped before throwing himself down at his brother's side. His grip was unsteady, knuckles white against Thanatos's skin. "Brother…" The word tore out of him, uneven.

He turned desperately, voice breaking. "Please… help him!"

His gaze lingered on Thanatos, heavy. He looked worse than Hades had the day he first met him… and the day he lost him.

He forced it down, wings pulling tight to his back. The shadows twitched at his boots. His voice dropped lower than he intended, rough in his throat.

"I will."