The figure of 'Zeus' appeared on the bank of the Styx. His pupils, blazing with the golden fire of madness and greed, immediately locked onto the anomalous source of temperature he had sensed in the middle of the river—the soul that should have been burning.
But the moment he set foot on the riverbank, the strange sphere of fire, with its complex tongues of flame, vanished without warning, like a candle snuffed out by an invisible hand.
Not a trace of it remained. No lingering heat, no faint ripple of energy.
As if it had never existed. All prior perception was merely a hallucination.
"Eh?" 'Zeus' frowned abruptly. His mighty divine thought instantly swept across the entire River Styx, even probing deep into the riverbed and the rock formations on both sides.
Dead silence. Emptiness. Aside from the inherent breath of death in the Stygian water and the power of endless oaths and resentments contained within the river, there was no anomaly.
The strange flame, the persistent pulse of the soul—all gone without a trace.
"It fled?" he muttered darkly, a feeling of being outmaneuvered growing in his heart.
But at that moment, the churning divine power within him and the overwhelming desire to finally 'return to the source' suppressed all doubts.
A small anomaly was not worth wasting precious time.
His main targets were 'Nyx' and 'Erebus' in the depths of the Underworld, and the abyss of 'Tartarus' below—that was the true 'feast'.
Carelessly striking down 'Styx', he ignored the now-empty river, delved deeper into the Underworld, and departed.
With 'Zeus's' departure, the suffocating compulsion gradually receded.
---
In a deeper dimension of the Underworld, within a strange space shrouded by multiple layers of [secrecy], the scene was entirely different from the deathly silence outside.
It was like an obsidian viewing platform suspended in the void, with the glimmer of the Underworld and stardust flowing around its edges.
A massive 'window' before them clearly reflected everything that had just transpired on the bank of the River Styx in the outer world—the arrival of 'Zeus', the vanishing of the flame, and the departure of 'Zeus'.
Hades sat on a simple stone pedestal, his eyes calmly fixed on the 'window', as if enjoying a play that had nothing to do with him.
By his side, Metis was not looking at the 'window'. She leaned slightly towards Hades, pressing against him, her gaze somewhat distant, as if looking through the scene before her at something far away.
"My dear," Metis suddenly spoke, her voice softer than usual, carrying a faint melancholy.
"I'm feeling... nostalgic. Will you hold me?"
Hades barely hesitated.
He extended his powerful arms and naturally, gracefully drew his queen into his embrace, letting her rest against his sturdy chest. His other hand rose, his palm gently covering the crown of Metis's soft hair, his fingers sinking in and beginning to stroke slowly and tenderly, offering silent understanding and comfort without words.
"What are you nostalgic for?" Hades asked quietly, still gazing at the 'window', watching the figure of 'Zeus' disappear into the dark passage leading to the earth's core.
But his touch was focused, as if he was listening to every ripple of his wife's heart through the tips of his fingers.
Metis shifted comfortably in his arms, letting out a soft, cat-like purr of contentment, savouring this long-missed intimacy.
She pressed her cheek against his cold, dark robe, yet felt a powerful warmth.
"It's nothing..." she mumbled, her fingers unconsciously toying with the corner of his dark mantle.
"Just... it feels like you haven't held me like this for a long time."
The hand stroking her hair paused for a fraction of a second, then resumed, Hades's voice carrying a note of confusion and seriousness: "A long time? But yesterday in the Underworld, we were—"
"Hmph!" Metis suddenly broke free from his embrace, like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. She straightened up, turning her back to him, her shoulders shaking slightly, clearly embarrassed.
Hades: "..."
She seems... angry? Why?
Fortunately, after countless cycles of meeting and interacting, Hades almost instinctively understood how to appease his goddess of wisdom.
He was never good with sweet words, but his actions often spoke louder.
He didn't try to explain.
Instead, he stood up and walked over to Metis.
His right palm firmly held the back of her head, gently tilting it back, while his left arm wrapped tightly around her, almost pressing her entire form against him with a strength that couldn't be denied, yet was carefully controlled so she felt no pain.
His fingertips unconsciously stroked her soft hair, feeling the warmth of her scalp beneath and her slightly accelerated pulse.
"I understand." Hades's deep voice sounded in her ear, calm, understanding everything.
"You remember all the reincarnations, don't you? Seeing that paranoid, insane 'Metis' devoured by 'Zeus' stirred a fear of 'possibility' in your heart."
Metis's tense body suddenly relaxed.
She didn't resist, letting herself sink back into those warm, strong arms, burying her face deep in Hades's chest, her voice muffled:
"I said, I believe in my Hades. You don't need to worry about that paranoia. She is her, you are you."
"But what about the future?" Metis's voice carried a rare fragility—the most sincere emotional expression from the goddess of wisdom after shedding all calm calculation.
"Have the distorted obsessions and emotions accumulated over countless reincarnations truly vanished completely? Do you know? Looking at that 'me', for a moment, I even felt... it might be okay. At least she has a clear goal. She's obsessed, a little bit, doesn't necessarily have to be like us, carrying the weight of the whole world, calculating every step, always weighing, always sacrificing..."
Hades's hand, stroking her hair, stopped abruptly.
He raised his other hand and gently but firmly lifted Metis's chin, forcing her to look up and meet his eyes, as deep as an abyss.
"I have never been afraid," Hades said, one word at a time, his voice calm but heavy.
"It doesn't matter which part—any part belongs to my Hades."
Before he finished speaking, he lowered his head and captured her lips in a precise kiss.
It was not a gentle, superficial kiss.
He kissed deeply and long, as if trying to convey through this kiss all his promises, all his understanding, all his unspoken support.
After a long moment, their lips parted.
Metis's eyes were slightly red, whether from lack of oxygen or emotional stirring.
She looked at Hades, her wise eyes now shimmering with tears.
"Really?" she asked quietly, with a last trace of uncertainty.
"But if one day... I am no longer me, distorted by too many memories, becoming paranoid, mad, irrational... would you still love me?"
Hades gazed at her. The corner of his mouth seemed to lift slightly—far from a smile, but more reassuring than any smile could be.
"Hmm." He simply replied, then hugged her tightly again, resting his chin on her hair.
"If that day truly comes, I will find a way to bring you back. And then... be with you."
His words were interrupted by a sudden roar from the outer world!
The roar came from the depths of the scene reflected in the 'window'.
Hades and Metis both frowned in displeasure and looked towards the 'window'.