THADDEUS POV
The dining hall looked ripped from a high-budget horror flick—if the director fetishized rotting grandeur.
A long table dominated the room, laden with what might've been a feast centuries ago. Now? Pure nightmare buffet.
Roasted meats charred black, oozing green sludge under mold thick enough to farm. Veggies shriveled into necrotic mush. And the cakes? Collapsing layers crawling with maggots, melting like cursed soufflés.
Cobwebs hung like lazy funeral drapes. Dust choked the air—nightmare powdered sugar.
At the far end, two throne-like leather chairs faced a massive fireplace. Inside?
Souls. Writhing, screaming silently in the flames. The fire devoured their anguish, flames dancing to muffled pleas for mercy.
Cozy.
Hades nailed the "Eternal Damnation" aesthetic.
In one chair, "she" lounged—watching the soul-screaming channel with utter boredom. Gothic queen? Emo icon? Hard to pin down.
Dressed in liquid-shadow elegance, her beauty was dagger-sharp: porcelain skin, blood-dark lips, hair like spilled ink. Though her expression clearly said "Can someone please turn off the damned screaming?" Relatable.
She took a slow sip of wine the color of clotting blood. Her gaze slid over us… then locked onto me.
She winked.
My brain short-circuited: Oh. Okay...
You know that itch? When every survival instinct screams RUN… although curiosity whispers "But what if you flirted with the literal Queen of Hell?"
Yeah. That. And honestly? Intriguing.
Persephone's eyes then drifted—landing on Grover.
Oh, hell no.
Grover froze mid-step. You could see his satyr brain shorting out—panic and pheromones warring behind his eyes.
They locked gazes. Heat. Intensity.
I slid beside him, voice a hissing whisper: "Don't. You. Dare."
No way was I surviving Goat-Boy-meets-Goddess flirtapocalypse today.
Nope.
Not happening.
Virgil cleared his throat. "Forgive me, Lord Hades—"
Hades turned. His gaze swept over Percy, Annabeth, Grover… then locked onto me.
That vibe hit again—like being X-rayed by a bored god. Not Ares' aggressive sizing-up. This was colder. Deeper. Like he'd already dissected my soul and filed the report under "Meh."
Then he stood.
Dude was lanky elegance: pale, towering, draped in roadie-chic leather. Skull rings glinted on bony fingers. His hair? Artfully messy, like he'd crowd-surfed through a Mötley Crüe concert before clocking in.
Imagine if Russell Brand's wit and Keith Richards' aesthetic had a love child who ran Hell. Boom. Hades.
Annabeth blinked, pure disappointment. "You're Hades?"
Mood, Wise Girl.
"Honestly? Expected more… gravitas," I said, waving a hand at his ensemble. Then—words vomited forth:
"I mean—the original myths painted you as this shadow-wrapped terror, right? All 'ruthless lord of the damned,' 'abductor of spring,' 'don't-look-him-in-the-eye-or-you'll-ascend-too-quickly' vibes. Then the Romantics got hold of you—suddenly you're this tragic, brooding antihero! 'Poor misunderstood Hades, just wants a quiet eternity with his wilting wife!' Give me a break. Fast forward to modern times? Disney turns you into a sleazy used-chariot salesman with impeccable comedic timing. And don't get me started on webcomics—now you're basically a hot, lead vocalist of a -death-metal band! It's—wait."
I froze. Did I just critique a god right into his face?
"…Point is," I backpedaled fast, "expectations were… varied?"
Too late. The bell was rung. The god was… amused?
Hades raised one razor-sharp eyebrow. "Would you prefer I look like—?"
Before I blinked—he changed.
Ten feet tall. Wings of screaming shadows exploded from his back. Black fire wreathed him—reality itself hissed where it touched him. Pure, primordial fury made flesh.
Picture a Balrog—then dial it to eleven, drench it in Greek tragedy, and set it to a Slayer album cover. That.
He leaned inches from Annabeth's face. The room shook. His voice shattered the air:
"THIS?!"
Annabeth froze.
I froze.
Hell, even Grover snapped out of his Persephone-induced daze. A historic first.
I slowly raised a hand. "Finally. Some drama."
Dead silence.
Percy, Annabeth, Grover? Deer-in-headlights. Virgil? Looked like he'd remembered leaving Cerberus's chew toy in the microwave.
Me?
Processing. Yeah, scared—but mostly just done. Gods threw tantrums. Monsters tried to gut us. My best friend now flirted with doom. If today was my day? Fine. At least the eulogy would be legendary. So while the stoodges panicked, I stood there, arms crossed.
Hades snapped his fingers.
POOF!
Back to rockstar-death-metal chic.
Virgil inhaled sharply. "Well. That's… my cue." He backpedaled. "My services are concluded. Good luck, Mr. Jackson. Enjoy your… stay."
His eyes locked on me. "And you, Mr. Bartholomew? I hope we speak again. Preferably… not when you're deceased."
Virgil nearly tripped over a spectral rug fleeing. Hades watched him go, one eyebrow arched like a drawn bow, before turning to Percy.
"Brave of you to come, nephew." Hades' voice resonated—ancient, weary, stripped of wrath.
"I see your revulsion. For this place. For what I represent. Know this: I did not choose this existence."
A bitter exhale escaped him.
"Zeus. Poseidon. They cast me here. Forced me to rule over—"
A pause. A mirthless smirk.
"—a living hell."
I blew out a slow breath. "Y'know? I think I'm gonna like this guy."
Instant regret. Classic Thaddeus—blurt the quiet part loud.
Hades' gaze sliced to me. "And bringing the… outsider? Audacious."
I shrugged. "What can I say? I crash divine pity parties, and it's kinda becoming a hobby of mine."
Hades remained carved from obsidian.
He gestured at the rotting feast. "Do you know what's it like to be me?"
Silence.
His fingertips hovered over a putrid apple. Never touching. "Every sensation—gone. I feel no joy. No pain. Hunger gnaws… instead I taste ash. Weariness crushes me… yet sleep is forbidden." His eyes stabbed toward Persephone.
She turned away sharply, knuckles whitening on her wineglass.
"I am bound by love." His voice dropped to gravel. "Yet eternally chained beyond its reach."
I tapped my chin, nodding sagely. "Yep. Sounds like when my dad confiscates my Xbox mid-raid. Same existential despair."
Hades turned his head inch by inch toward me. He closed his eyes. Exhaled like he regretted every cosmic choice since the Big Bang.
Persephone? A soft, silvery laugh escaped her lips. Barely there—but unmistakable.
Hades massaged his temple, suddenly embodying every migraine ever.
"Moving on."
He gestured to the fireplace.
The screams crescendoed.
"My only solace? Human agony."
Percy stiffened. Annabeth's jaw clenched hard enough to crack stone.
"When mortals suffer… when tragedy breaks them…" Hades' smile was razor-blade sharp.
"I feel pure joy. I feast on misery."
Silence thickened, choking the air.
Then, calm as a mortician:
"I am damned. My sole escape?"
His eyes pinned us, unblinking.
"Crushing my brothers… and seizing Olympus."
The air became tense.
I crossed my arms. "To pull that off, you'd need the bolt—which, sorry to say, we don't have."
Hades ignored me completely.
He extended a pale, ringed hand toward Percy, voice absolute:
"I require the bolt."
Percy's sea-green eyes blazed. "And I require my mother."
Silence stretched thin.
"Give. Me. The. Bolt." Hades' tone brooked no argument. "Then you see her."
Percy's hands tightened on his sword hilt. "Why does everyone think I took it?! I'm not the Lightning Thief! I don't have it! Never did!"
Hades' gaze blackened. Shadows pulsed.
"Do you take me for a fool?"
I stepped shoulder-to-shoulder with Percy. True Ice forming over my left hand.
"Yes."
I tilted my head. "Or do you just enjoy being played?"
The temperature plummeted. Percy raised Riptide.
Hades studied me—not rage. Calculation.
Then, a cold smirk.
"I admire your nerve. Truly."
He moved.
Skeletal fingers snatched the bone globe beside his throne—
—and smashed it onto the stones.
CRACK!
Golden light erupted.
Frozen within it: Sally Jackson.
Caught mid-fall, unharmed—exactly as the Minotaur struck her that night.
The golden dust dissipated. Sally stirred.
"Percy?"
The shower of golden dust dissipated. Slowly, she stirred.
"Percy?"
Her voice—soft, disoriented, full of love.
Percy's sword hit the floor. His shield clattered as it was released from his grip.
He ran.
Dropping to his knees, he grabbed her hands with a shaky breath, his eyes burning with unshed tears. "Thought I lost you forever."
Sally cupped his face, smiling softly despite everything.
Then, she looked around. Her brows knit together.
"Are we... dead?"
"Not yet. But we're working on it," Grover muttered.
"Honestly, if we were, I'm pretty sure this whole afterlife setup would be getting one-star reviews across the board," I said, my tone drier than the Sahara.
Annabeth shot me a look as she said, "Really? Now?" Someone had to lighten the mood.
However—something changed.
Hades' eyes dropped to the floor, like he'd just noticed something.
Percy's shield.
It was lying there, face-down on the stone, and its handle… was glowing.
Not just glowing—pulsing, like it was alive. Light-like sparks crackled around it, sharp and electric.
I frowned. Something was off. Way off.
And then I felt it.
The whole Underworld vibrated beneath my feet, humming with some kind of energy. Not the good kind, either. This felt… wrong. Dangerous.
Percy's had that shield the entire time since we left camp. So why was it only now—now that it wasn't in his hands—that I was sensing this?
I tightened my grip on my staff, my breathing slowing as instinct took over.
This isn't normal. This is like… a pulse beneath the world, some kind of buried signal, like a warning. And whatever's inside that shield.
"Percy…" I said, eyes fixed on the shield like it might explode. "We've got a problem."
"Zeus' master bolt," Hades stated. "You lied," he snapped, turning to Percy.
"That wasn't my shield..." Percy said, stunned.
"Luke gave it to him—" Annabeth began, as the pieces fell into place.
"We were set up," I added.
The room felt hollowed out, stripped of air, sound, and reason.
"Luke was the Lightning Thief," Grover finished.
The words hung there—heavy, irreversible.
Hades' lips curled into something between amusement and triumph. He turned his gaze toward the bolt, and in that moment, I saw it.
The hunger. The want. The raw, unfiltered ambition.
"Now..." he breathed, fingers grazing the weapon's electric surface, "I can become King of the Gods."
And just like that, the air crackled.
He turned to Persephone, voice smooth, commanding.
"Take their weapons. Feed them to Cerberus."
Ah. So that's how we were playing this.
"Touch me or any of them, and I'll make sure even the River Lethe remembers your scream."
The words were out of my mouth before I could think better of it, before my brain could scream, What the fuck are you doing?!
I'm done playing nice...
If I was gonna piss off a god, I might as well go all in.
Let's be real—there are a lot of bad life decisions out there: eating gas station sushi, oversleeping on the day of a final exam, telling a girl "it's not that deep" when she's mad at you… and, of course, picking a fight with the literal God of the Dead and King of the Underworld.
Guess which one I just chose?
Hades slowly turned his head, looking at me like I was some pesky bug that just wouldn't squish.
His grip tightened around the bolt, and a surge of electric white-gold-blue energy crackled through the air.
Then—he moved.
Faster than I thought possible, Hades swung the bolt, and a blinding arc of lightning tore through the room, aimed straight at me. It would've fried me on the spot—
—if I hadn't Blinked.
I had a split second to react. Darkness wrapped around me, and then I was gone.
I reappeared at his side, my staff already raised, True Ice snaking up my arm like living frost.
I swung.
Hades turned just in time, blocking my strike with the bolt.
CRACK.
The collision sent a shockwave of ice and lightning ripping through the air, shards of frozen energy exploding outward as Hades was forced back a few steps.
He narrowed his eyes, clearly not expecting that.
I smirked, spinning my staff in my hand.
"You won't get another warning."
Hades didn't bother with a reply. He just vanished.
And then—
BOOM.
I barely ducked as the bolt came crashing down where my head had been, the ground shattering under the force of the impact.
Okay, yeah. He was fast.
I Blinked again, reappearing behind him, frost creeping up my legs. I twisted, Runespark sparking to life at my fingertips—a swirling, charged blast of energy—
I hurled it at him.
Hades turned, raising the bolt—
Runespark met raw lightning.
Explosion.
The shockwave sent us both flying.
I hit the ground hard, tumbling across the stone floor, my ribs screaming in protest. Mana draining fast.
Hades landed gracefully, looking barely fazed.
Of course.
I pushed myself up onto one knee, breathing hard. Alright, new plan. Think fast.
I tightened my grip on my staff, my eyes scanning the room.
No cover. No backup. Just me and a god who clearly wasn't messing around.
Hades took a step toward me, his voice low and dripping with that godly confidence.
"You're impressive, boy," he said, almost like he meant it. "But still, you're mortal. And mortals—"
The bolt in his hand crackled to life, its power wrapping around his arm like a living, breathing storm.
"—always fall."
And then—
My mana ran dry.
I felt it instantly, like someone had yanked the plug. That deep, hollow emptiness hit me hard.
No more Blinks.
No more True Ice.
No more Runespark.
Well… crap.
Something inside me just… ruptured.
Not bone, not flesh—nothing so mortal. This was deeper. Older. A thing I never knew slept within me, coiled like a fossil in stone.
It wasn't a voice. Not truly.
But it resonated—vast, glacial, yet unnervingly intimate. A silence that screamed. A whisper without breath. A consciousness with no edges, no name… only hunger.
And it was awake.
Then—
A current.
Not a wave, but a tsunami of raw, feral power. It tore through veins, marrow, soul. My skin blazed like sun-scorched desert; my bones iced over like forgotten tombs. Fire and frost devoured each other inside me, twin serpents gnawing at the cage of my ribs. The air crackled. Light bent. Shadows bled.
My right hand—Runespark—but it wasn't the same.
The fire wasn't red or gold. It flickered between colors I didn't even know existed. Midnight blue. Pure white. Something that wasn't even a color.
And my left hand—
True Ice. But colder. Deeper. Darker.
This wasn't just frost or winter. It was void. The kind of emptiness that existed before anything else did.
Hades' smile faded. He noticed.
"Interesting."
The three behind me were shouting—Annabeth, Percy, Grover—all trying to stop me, pull me back.
But their voices didn't reach me.
The world didn't reach me.
The only thing that existed was me and the god standing in front of me.
Percy reached out, and without even thinking, I shoved him back. In that split second, I caught a glimpse of it—
A mirror.
My own reflection.
And—wrong.
My eyes.
They weren't glowing.
They were alight.
Not bright. Not shining.
Burning. Like twin furnaces behind thin glass—phosphorous and primal.
Pain? No. Not pain.
Violation.
My nerves screamed fire while my blood turned to arctic sludge. A war of elements raged under my skin: lightning in my veins, frostbite in my marrow.
I exhaled.
A plume of winter fog ghosted the mirror—in a room warm as a tomb.
What is this?
Arcanum? Again?
No.
Arcanum was something. A chained thing I coaxed from the dark when needed—a well I dredged with bleeding hands.
This—
This was no well. This was the ocean beneath it.
A thing coiled in my bones since before I had a name. A tenant in the cellar of my soul. Sleeping. Waiting.
And now—
It was peeling back my eyelids from the inside.
I came back to reality and turned my eyes towards Hades.
"Your grip on that bolt is the last mistake you'll make. So I won't repeat myself... Drop it."
My voice was steady. Calm—chill, even. Like I wasn't standing in front of the literal King of the Underworld, glowing like some kind of divine Christmas tree, overflowing with power I didn't yet fully understand.
Hades, of course, wasn't a fan of being told what to do.
"And I'm only going to say this once," he shot back, his grip tightening on the Master Bolt. "Kneel."
The air cracked.
Lightning tore through the room, screaming toward me like it had a personal vendetta.
I moved.
Not because I thought about it—because my body just knew.
Blink.
One second I was there, the next—gone.
I reappeared behind Hades, barely having time to register what was happening before my hands moved on their own.
Right hand—Runespark.
The fire lashed out, but it wasn't wild or chaotic this time. It was sharp. Controlled. Burning with an eerie blue-white light that felt hotter than anything I'd ever summoned before.
Hades pivoted, intercepting my strike with a sweeping arm—and as he moved, the Bolt in his grasp crackled violently. Raw energy erupted when its lightning tore through the surrounding flames, fusing fire and electricity into a searing blast.
Left hand—True Ice.
My strike hit the ground—and the frost answered.
Ice exploded outward in fractal spikes, spiderwebbing across the floor with unnatural speed. Before Hades could react, jagged chains of living ice coiled around his boots, snapping tight like serpent fangs. The frost didn't just spread—it hunted, climbing his legs with terrifying hunger, flash-freezing everything it touched. For one suspended moment, even time seemed to crystallize in its wake.
Hades frowned. Not scared—just annoyed.
He slammed the butt of the Bolt against the ground.
BOOM.
A shockwave erupted, blasting me back, the ground beneath us cracking like glass under a hammer.
I hit hard, but I didn't stay down.
Mid-roll—Blink.
I vanished, reappearing mid-air, twisting in motion, and landed clean on my feet with a frost-charged burst that cracked the marble under me.
I raised my staff.
Round two.
Hades raised an eyebrow. "Faster than before."
I flexed my fingers, watching the runes along my arms glow and pulse like they were alive. "Yeah. Kinda noticed that too."
The god tilted his head, studying me.
Then he grinned.
And just like that—he was gone.
A blur of black and gold lightning.
MOVE.
I Blinked again, reappearing behind a shattered pillar just as the Master Bolt obliterated the spot where I'd been standing.
"I'd call this unfair, but you started it." I muttered under my breath, stepping out from behind the rubble.
Hades stood there, casually twirling the Bolt in his hand like it was some kind of toy.
"Show me, outsider," he said, eyes gleaming with something between curiosity and challenge. "Show me what you really are."
Hades moved.
Furniture disintegrated in his wake, chairs splintering into kindling, and tables exploding outward as if detonated from within. The very architecture of the hall rebelled against its form, walls warping inward like living things bowing to their master.
Because that's what he was here. Master.
The Underworld reshaped itself to his fury. The ceiling tore open into an infinite abyss, swallowing all light. Beneath my feet, the marble floor fractured like thin ice, revealing a churning maelstrom of tormented souls whose shrieks harmonized into a single, endless wail.
This wasn't battle. This was revelation.
Hades wasn't fighting me in his domain—he was unfolding it around me, proving with every splintering second that physics and geometry were just polite suggestions here.
Hades grinned, spinning the Master Bolt in his hand, lightning coiling up his arm like living veins of raw power. "You measure speed in distance. I measure it in suffering."
He moved—no, teleported. A blur of darkness and golden light. The Bolt lashed out, a jagged spear of energy aimed straight for my chest.
Blink.
I was already gone, phasing just out of reach, reappearing behind him.
Left hand—True Ice.
I swung low, frost trailing from my fingertips like liquid cold, ready to lock him in place.
Hades saw it coming. He spun, and a wall of black fire erupted from the ground, swallowing my attack whole.
Damn.
Right hand—Runespark.
A flick of my fingers sent blue-white flames roaring through the air, twisting like a serpent toward him.
Blink.
I vanished again, reappearing at his side before the flames even reached him.
Hades didn't flinch.
He caught my punch—bare-handed.
A jolt of energy ripped through my arm like an electric shock, scrambling my senses and short-circuiting my focus.
I yanked back, Blinking again—just barely dodging his counterstrike.
Alright. Time to get creative.
I took a sharp breath, feeling that strange, coiled energy inside me stir. The runes along my arms pulsed like they'd been waiting for this exact moment.
Fine. Let's see what this can do.
I Blinked—but not just once.
Twice.
Reappeared mid-air.
Three times.
Behind him.
Four.
Above.
I unleashed a barrage of fire and ice, warping between each strike, blinking so fast I was nothing but a blur. Every time I reappeared, I attacked—Runespark and True Ice in perfect sync.
Hades laughed.
Not mockingly.
In excitement.
He was enjoying this.
And that? That was terrifying.
With a flick of his wrist, the shadows around us came alive.
Dark tendrils lashed out from every direction, clawing, grasping—trying to drag me under.
Blink. Blink. Blink.
Dodging wasn't enough. I had to keep moving, keep shifting.
But Hades? He caught on.
And then he changed the rules.
The moment I blinked again, reappearing behind him—
—the air ripped open.
A second Hades stepped out of the void.
Oh, you've got to be kidding me—
Before I could blink away, his fist slammed into my gut.
The force was insane.
I flew backward, crashing through whatever warped, reality-bent furniture still existed in this twisted space.
I gasped, blinking on instinct just before I plummeted into the abyss yawning open beneath me.
I reappeared on solid ground, stumbling, barely staying on my feet.
Whatever's powering me now—it's not mana. And it's running on fumes.
The runes along my arms flickered, dimming. My breathing grew heavier. My body screamed at me—too fast, too reckless, too much.
Hades watched me, his grin slowly fading into something else.
Something sharper.
He tapped the Bolt against his palm, lightning crackling and illuminating the hunger in his eyes. "I see it now."
I rolled my shoulders, tightening my grip on my staff. "See what?"
His gaze burned—curious, hungry, calculating. "The rules reject you. How amusing that you reject them back."
Something in his voice sent a chill down my spine.
Because for the first time in this whole fight—
—I knew he wasn't talking about my magic.
The air crackled, ozone burning in my lungs.
Lightning.
Dark purple.
My lightning.
I didn't know how I'd done it—only that I had.
Hades stumbled back, his grip on the Master Bolt empty for the first time. His eyes snapped to my hands, where arcs of dark purple electricity danced across my fingers.
He laughed—low, amused... then edged with something darker. "Clever."
I didn't wait.
I blinked forward, reappearing mid-air, a storm of True Ice and Runespark colliding with the stolen lightning now surging in my hands.
Hades recovered fast—too fast. Shadows exploded from beneath him, clawing at my ankles, trying to drag me down into the dark.
I twisted mid-air, flipped, blinked—out of reach.
I just needed one clean shot. One perfect moment to end this.
The Underworld itself writhed with his fury again—walls bent inward, the floor cracked and splintered, and the abyss below growled like a living thing, hungry and ancient.
No pressure, right?
Hades raised his hand, and the Master Bolt called to him. The same Bolt in my grip flickered, twitching like it wanted to leap back to its master.
Not today.
I slammed my staff into the ground, grounding myself as I forced the lightning to obey me.
And then—I blinked.
Straight at him.
I swung.
He dodged.
I let go.
Not of the fight. Not of the power. Not of the will to win.
I let go of the lightning.
And it didn't go back to him.
It exploded.
A sunburst of raw divine energy detonated between us, and the shockwave tore through the chamber.
Hades smashed into the far wall with enough force to crack the stone. I hit the ground hard, tumbling, skidding, coughing, bleeding. My ears rang. My vision danced. My body screamed.
But I was still standing.
And so was he.
Barely.
Hades groaned, staggering upright. He was breathing hard now—he was actually winded.
"You dare steal from me?" he spat.
I wiped blood from my lip and forced a grin, even as pain lanced through my jaw.
"Property rights suggest you forfeited ownership upon initial theft."
He growled, but before he could make a move, someone finally decided to step in. And that was Persephone, who stood from her chair, her wine glass shattering in her grip.
"Enough."
Hades froze.
And so did I.
Considering the look in her eyes?
It wasn't boredom anymore.
The room went dead silent.
Hades—the big bad King of the Underworld, the God of the Dead himself—stood there like a kid caught sneaking cookies at midnight.
And Persephone?
Oh, she was pissed.
Her black gown rippled as she moved, the dark energy of the Underworld bending around her like it was afraid to get in her way. The flames in the fireplace flickered wildly, mirroring the fury in her usually bored, miserable eyes.
"You." She pointed a perfectly manicured finger at Hades. "Are an absolute idiot."
I blinked. My brain, still fried from whatever the hell just went down, barely kept up.
Hades straightened, trying to cling to what dignity he had left. "Persephone, my sweet—"
"Don't." she snapped.
And Hades flinched like a scolded puppy.
"You stole the Master Bolt, framed a child of the Big Three, tried to kill these poor kids, and almost got your skull split open by a fifteen year old because of your own arrogance!"
"To be fair," I muttered from the floor as Percy and Annabeth hauled me up, "I was planning to crack his skull open anyway."
"Not now, Thad!" Annabeth muttered.
Persephone wasn't done.
She stalked forward.
Hades took a step back.
Then another.
"And now? Now you're sitting there, begging for power, acting like some tragic victim?"
"My love, please, let us discuss this—"
CRACK!
Persephone backhanded him across the face.
The God of the Dead hit the ground.
Grover gasped. "Holy Pan."
I was officially confused. "Did she just—?"
"Yes," Percy whispered, just as stunned.
Hades groaned, clutching his cheek. "Ow."
Persephone wasn't done. She grabbed him by the collar of his rockstar leather jacket and dragged him up, shaking him like a misbehaving chihuahua. "You think I enjoy being stuck down here with you for half the year? And now you almost doom the world over a temper tantrum?"
"Okay, okay!" Hades pleaded, hands up. "Mercy, woman!"
Persephone tossed him aside like yesterday's trash. "You're lucky I don't turn you into a daisy."
Hades groaned from the floor. Defeated. Humbled. In pain.
I took a deep breath, still dazed, still trying to wrap my head around what the hell just went down. My head was pounding. My body felt like it had been through a meat grinder. Percy and Annabeth kept me steady while Grover gave me a reassuring pat on the back.
"Yo…" I muttered, watching Persephone dust off her hands like she'd just finished taking out the trash.
"Yeah?" Percy asked, raising an eyebrow.
I swallowed, my throat dry as sandpaper. "Is it bad that I kinda respect her now?"
Hades was still groveling on the floor, holding his bruised face like a mortal who'd just lost a bar fight. "It was a test! A mere trial to prove their worth!" he sputtered. "I never intended any real harm! I simply wanted to ensure that they were capable, that they could uncover the truth and clear young Jackson's name!"
Persephone loomed over him, arms crossed, not buying a single word. "Oh? So you just happened to steal Zeus's Master Bolt? Frame your own nephew? Kidnap his mother? Almost kill these teenagers? And now you expect me to believe this was all just a… what? A character-building exercise?"
Hades nodded frantically. "Exactly!"
CRACK.
Another slap.
I winced. "Man, she's got great form."
Grover gulped. "I am... both terrified and deeply impressed."
Percy leaned toward me, whispering, "Should we—uh—do something?"
I barely managed to shake my head, still trying to get my bearings. My whole body felt like it was buzzing with static and burning up at the same time—classic mana overuse. My limbs were shaking, my thoughts are a bit all over the place, and every little movement sent a sharp ache shooting through me.
Truth to be told, I was too confused to even care.
"Hold up," I said, rubbing my temples like it might help me think straight. "So you're telling me all of this—the fight, the almost dying, the nightmare décor—was just some kind of stupid test?"
Hades, still on the floor, nodded.
Annabeth let out a slow, frustrated breath, clearly holding herself back from throwing hands. Percy looked like he was one wrong word away from punching a god. Grover looked ready to eat dirt just to forget what he just heard.
Persephone, meanwhile, wasn't done.
"You lying, conniving, melodramatic sack of bones," she hissed, grabbing Hades by the ear. He yelped as she yanked him up, smacking him upside the head like a mother disciplining her toddler.
"Ow! OW! Persephone, please!"
"Don't please me! I am so sick of this! Every time I leave for six months, you pull some ridiculous stunt, and when I come back, I have to clean up your mess!"
"You weren't here! You don't understand!"
"Oh, I understand perfectly." Smack.
Hades let out a pitiful whimper.
At this point, I'd pretty much forgotten about the burning pain in my body because I was too busy watching the God of the Underworld get absolutely obliterated by his wife.
"Alright, I gotta say it," I muttered, still leaning on Percy and Grover to stay upright. "This is, hands down, the most surreal thing I've seen since we started this whole ridiculous quest."
Grover nodded. "I thought nothing could top the time we saw a Minotaur chasing a Camaro, but—"
"This is so much worse," Annabeth finished, rubbing her temples.
Meanwhile, Persephone continued to manhandle her husband like he was a disobedient golden retriever.
"And another thing! Why this boy... uh? Yes! Thaddeus! You can't just go fight him and not explain!"
Hades, still suffering, shot me a wary glance as he rubbed his bruised jaw. "He is… different."
"Okay, rude," I scoffed, rolling my eyes. "I just went toe-to-toe with you, almost died, and now you're hitting me with vague, cryptic nonsense? At least give me the full story, man."
Hades groaned, struggling to sit up as Persephone finally let him go—for now. He leaned against the nearest column, eyes still locked on me with something bordering on apprehension.
"I do not claim to know exactly what you are," he said. "Nevertheless, there is something ancient inside you. Something… buried. Dormant, but stirring. Even I, King of the Underworld, have never seen its like."
The room fell dead silent.
"You're saying I've got… what? Hidden powers? A sealed monster inside me? Reincarnated titan? What are we talking here?" I asked, trying to laugh it off, but my voice came out a little too tight.
Hades shook his head. "Not a monster. Not a titan. Not anything that should exist anymore. And yet, there it is. Coiled inside your soul like a sleeping storm. I only pushed you to provoke it—force it to surface. And it did."
Percy looked at me like I'd just grown another head. "You've been glowing dark purple lightning, man."
Annabeth's eyes were narrowed, calculating. "Divine energy doesn't just change hands. That's not something any demigod should be able to do."
Grover blinked. "Wait… are you even just a demigod?"
I exhaled, my head spinning. "I mean—I thought so?"
Hades shook his head again, slowly. "The other Olympians feel it too. Zeus is paranoid. Poseidon suspects. Even Athena is watching. Whatever you are, Thaddeus… you're not like the others. Not anymore."
I ran a hand through my hair, trying to process any of this. "Cool. Cool, cool, cool. Not stressful at all. Just casually being watched by possibly the entire Greek pantheon."
Persephone crossed her arms. "You boys and your secrets. Honestly. If he explodes into a god-eating death storm, I'm blaming you."
Hades winced. "Noted."
Annabeth crossed her arms with an unreadable expression. "We need answers. Real ones. Not guesses. If Thad is something else… we have to find out what."
"Great," I muttered. "Add that to the to-do list. Right under 'don't die.'"
I then promptly collapsed.
"Thad!"
"Yeah, yeah, I get it," I muttered. "I pushed it too far. Just give me a minute."
Every inch of me hurt. My mana was completely drained, and my body felt like it had been tossed into a blender set to extreme pain. To be honest? None of that even came close to the headache of trying to unravel whatever bullshit Hades had just dropped about me.
"Okay," Percy said, shaking his head. "So to recap: Hades wasn't actually the villain, Persephone is way scarier than we thought, my best friend is apparently some kind of mystical anomaly, and I'm still no closer to figuring out how to fix this whole 'Zeus thinks I stole his bolt' thing."
"That about sums it up," Annabeth muttered.
Grover sighed. "I hate it here."
I groaned from the floor. "Yeah, same, buddy. Same."
Fifteen more excruciatingly long minutes passed, filled with Hades whimpering as Persephone delivered some of the most brutal verbal and physical takedowns I had ever witnessed. Honestly? I had no clue gods could even get bruises, though judging by Hades' rapidly swelling jaw, apparently, they could.
At some point, Persephone finally let out a deep sigh, rolling her shoulders like she'd just finished a workout. She dusted off her black dress, shot Hades one last warning glare, then turned to us with a radiant, almost charming smile.
"Apologies," she said smoothly, as if she hadn't just mopped the Underworld's floor with her husband's dignity. "He can be a bit… dramatic."
Hades, still half-sprawled on the floor, let out a pained groan.
"Dramatic?!" Percy said, looking at Hades, then back at Persephone. "He was planning to frame me! Had my mom trapped in a bone snow globe! Nearly got all of us killed!"
Hades waved a dismissive hand, finally managing to sit up properly. "Oh, please. That was all part of the test."
"The test?!" Annabeth practically shrieked.
Hades winced, probably still feeling the echoes of Persephone's wrath. He straightened his collar, then gave me a pointed look.
"I knew Jackson would come," he said simply. "It was obvious. The son of Poseidon—foolishly brave, driven by emotion, desperate to prove himself. That was a given. But you?" He tilted his head at me, eyes narrowing. "You were the wild card."
I raised a brow. "Okay, rude. But continue."
"You could've stood back," Hades said, tapping his fingers against his knee. "Let Percy handle it. Played it safe. Instead you didn't. You jumped in, acted decisively, adapted. You didn't just survive—you disrupted everything. That is… concerning."
Annabeth frowned. "Wait—so you knew Percy was innocent all along? You knew Luke was the thief?"
"Of course," Hades said, smirking slightly. "I may dwell in the Underworld, but I'm not blind. Hermes' son was reckless, greedy. It wasn't hard to trace the truth. I just wanted to see how far you'd all go to uncover it yourselves. Especially him." He nodded at me again.
There was a long silence.
Then, in a perfectly calm, rational, and mature manner, I said:
"Are you serious?"
Hades blinked at me. "What?"
"You mean to tell me," I continued, voice level, "that all of this—the fighting, the near-death experiences, the trauma—was just a godly game of chess?"
Hades chuckled, rubbing his chin. "In a way, yes. Though I must admit…" He studied me closely, a curious gleam in his eye. "Even I didn't expect what I saw from you. I felt you were powerful, but the way you wielded your magic—how you fought with control, instinct—it wasn't ordinary. Not even for a demigod."
Something in the way he said it sent a shiver down my spine.
I swallowed and forced a shrug. "I mean, I was just trying not to die."
Hades gave me a knowing smile. "Yes. However you were also holding back, weren't you?"
I stiffened slightly.
Before I could respond, Hades sighed, stretching his arms lazily. "Not that I can blame you. I was holding back too. Barely used…" He grinned. "Ten percent of my power."
I stared at him. "You did not just say that."
"Yes, I did."
Percy, Annabeth, and Grover all turned to look at me, their expressions a mix of horror and exhaustion.
I exhaled deeply, "You have no idea how badly I want to punch you right now."
Persephone, still standing beside him, rolled her eyes. "Don't mind him. He's insufferable. And an idiot." She turned to us, her expression surprisingly gentle. "On behalf of my dumbass husband, I apologize for all of this. He really can't help himself."
Hades scoffed. "I resent that."
"You're lucky I haven't fed you to Cerberus yet," she muttered.
Hades wisely shut his mouth.
Meanwhile, I was still trying to wrap my head around it all. The fact that this whole mess had been some kind of divine prank, that Hades wasn't actually our enemy, and that my magic—something I barely even understood—had somehow caught the attention of the literal God of the Dead.
And now? I had even more questions than I started with.
"Alright," I finally muttered, shaking my head. "Well… that was a complete waste of time."
Percy groaned. "Dude, you're telling me."
Grover sighed. "Can we go home now? Please?"
Annabeth crossed her arms. "Not yet. We still need to fix the mess that Luke started."
I sighed. "Of course we do."
And just like that, we were back to square one.
I exchanged a look with Annabeth, both of us arriving at the same unspoken question. Something wasn't adding up.
I turned back to Hades, arms crossed. "Alright, let's go over this one more time, just to be crystal clear. You knew Luke stole the bolt?"
Hades nodded. "Correct."
"And you knew from the start that Percy was innocent?" Annabeth added.
Another nod.
I exhaled sharply, already feeling a headache coming on. "Then why in the seven layers of hell—pardon the phrase—didn't you just tell Zeus the truth?"
Hades let out a long sigh, sinking back into his throne. "You say that as if it's so simple, boy. As if telling Zeus anything ever results in rational decisions." He massaged his temples, his earlier smugness now replaced with something... tired.
Annabeth frowned. "Even so, you could've ended this before it even started. Instead, you let the blame fall on Percy and made everything worse."
Hades chuckled, but it wasn't his usual theatrical, villainous chuckle. It was quiet. Almost bitter. "You don't understand how things work between us, little one. We are not… like you."
I narrowed my eyes. "That's the problem, isn't it?"
He glanced at me. "Oh?"
"You gods—you're supposed to be these grand, all-powerful beings," I said, waving a hand vaguely. "Bigger than life. Above humanity. But you act just like us. No, scratch that—worse than us. You lie, you cheat, you hold grudges for centuries. You're petty, vindictive, arrogant. And for what? Power? Ego?" I shook my head, my tone dripping with disappointment. "It's honestly kind of pathetic."
Hades tilted his head, studying me carefully. Then, after a moment, he gave a knowing smile.
"You think we are not aware?" he mused. "That we do not see what we have become?" He gestured toward the writhing, screaming souls in his fireplace. "Do you think I enjoy this existence? That I revel in my role? I was cast down here like a diseased animal. Forgotten. Feared. I cannot leave, I cannot change, and no matter how much I might wish to, I cannot escape what I am."
His voice darkened. "Having said all that, I am still a god. And gods do not act purely out of rationality. We act to survive."
There was a beat of silence before he continued.
"I told no one because the moment I side with a demigod, my loyalty is questioned. I act too soon, I'm accused of conspiring against Olympus. I act too late, I'm blamed for the fallout. There is no winning. Not for me."
Annabeth's brows furrowed. "So you let it play out… just to protect your own position?"
"To watch carefully," Hades corrected. "To see who would rise, who would stumble, and who would reveal what they truly are under pressure. Zeus would never have listened to me, but he'll listen to results. And now? Now he will see the truth. Because of you."
He turned his gaze on me again.
"You showed me something I haven't seen in eons. A demigod who doesn't bow. Who questions, who burns. You, Thaddeus… you are something different. And Olympus should be very afraid of what that means."
Annabeth shook her head. "That doesn't justify it."
"No," Hades admitted. "Despite that, it is the truth."
I stared at him for a long moment. For all the stories, all the legends I'd read, none of them had ever really captured this side of him—the tired, bitter, resigned King of the Underworld.
It made me wonder—how much of history had we gotten wrong? How much had we twisted, reshaped, and warped to fit our own ideas?
It was a weird, unsettling thought.
"You're a lot more complicated than the myths make you out to be," I muttered, more to myself than to him.
Hades smirked. "And you are far more insightful than a mere demigod should be."
I let out a tired laugh. "Yeah, well. It's been a long few weeks."
Annabeth still didn't look satisfied, but she knew we weren't going to get anything else out of him. Not now.
Hades raised a hand, stopping us before we could press further.
"Though there is one thing you misunderstand, children," he said, his voice smooth but heavy with centuries of burden. "I did not withhold the truth for amusement. Nor did I simply wish to toy with you."
He leaned forward, steepling his fingers.
"I knew from the beginning that Luke was the thief. Although he is no mere rogue acting on impulse. There is something—someone—behind him. A force pulling the strings. A shadow lurking just beyond our reach."
Percy clenched his fists. "Kronos."
Hades gave a slow, deliberate nod. "Perhaps. Or perhaps something even more insidious. A fragment of what once was, rebuilding itself. There are whispers in Tartarus—echoes that don't belong to the past anymore. That is why I played along. Why I allowed the accusations to fall on you, Percy. Because revealing what I knew too soon would have set off a chain of events we are not yet prepared to face yet. A war Olympus would not survive in its current fractured state."
Annabeth's eyes narrowed. "But that still doesn't explain the other things—the monsters, the attacks, the way we almost died a dozen times getting here. Was that all part of your plan?"
Before Hades could respond, Persephone scoffed, swirling her new wine glass with disinterest. "Oh, please. You think my husband is the only god with a hand in this?"
She leaned back against her throne, gaze drifting across us like we were pieces on a board.
"Tell me, children," she said coolly, "do you really believe all your near-death experiences were merely the result of bad luck?"
Her eyes landed on me for a second too long, and something unreadable flickered behind them—faint, like a warning unspoken. I ignored the uneasy chill that crawled up my spine.
Persephone continued, her voice turning almost sing-song in its cruelty. "Some of those trials? Not his doing. Some were inevitable. Fated. The threads were woven long before any of you were born. But others?" She smirked. "Let's just say The Fates have a cruel sense of humor—and certain Olympians are not above nudging destiny when it suits them."
I raised an eyebrow, "So you're saying all of it happened just so we could have this little chat?"
Hades spread his hands. "You misunderstand again. I do not control fate. But I do align myself with it when it suits me. If you were going to survive the trials thrown at you, then you were meant to arrive here. And if you had failed? Well…" He tilted his head. "Then you were never worthy to begin with."
I let out a slow exhale, shaking my head. "Man, I gotta say, you really suck at making a good first impression."
Persephone chuckled into her glass, while Hades simply smirked. "And yet, here you stand."
Annabeth still looked troubled. Percy was just barely restraining his frustration. Grover, wisely, had chosen to stay quiet.
Me? I was just trying to wrap my head around the fact that the King of the Underworld had apparently set us up to see if we were 'worthy'—all while suspecting something much, much worse was on the horizon.
And from the way my gut twisted, I had a bad feeling that whatever he feared?
He was right.
Hades leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "So. Now that you've had your grand realizations, what do you intend to do?"
I let out a long breath, glancing over at Percy and Grover, who both looked as wiped out as I felt. "Well… first? Dunno about these three muffins, but I suggest we get the hell out of here. Preferably before something else decides to try and kill us."
Hades laughed, a deep, rumbling sound. "A wise decision."
I exhaled slowly, rolling my shoulders and wincing at the ache in every overworked muscle and the lingering burn of mana exhaustion.
I turned to Hades, rubbing the back of my neck. "Uh… my bad for the mess. Y'know, the broken furniture, the cracked floors, maybe a bit of the structural integrity. Oh, and the whole trying-to-fry-you-with-divine-lightning thing."
Hades smirked, adjusting his coat like none of this had fazed him. "You barely scuffed the place." With a casual wave of his hand, the entire room restored itself—cracked floors sealing, broken furniture repairing, even the dust settling back in aesthetically tragic ways. "See? Good as new."
Persephone, lounging with her wine in hand, laughed. "You're apologizing? To a god? And this one, no less?" She gestured at Hades with amusement. "Oh, darling, I think you've officially lost your edge."
Hades simply sighed, muttering, "You're enjoying this too much."
"Immensely," Persephone quipped.
Despite the lighthearted tone, one question hung heavy in the air: what now?
We had Percy's mom. The stolen bolt wasn't our problem anymore—at least, not directly. But we were still stuck in the literal Underworld with no clear way out.
"How exactly do we get back, now that I think about it?" I asked, glancing between Hades and Persephone. "Because unless you've got some kind of express elevator to the living world, I don't see a handy exit sign anywhere."
Hades leaned back in his chair. "That depends. How much do you trust me?"
Percy scoffed. "Yeah, that's gonna be a hard pass."
"Understandable." Hades didn't seem offended. He looked over at Persephone, who sighed dramatically and stood.
"I suppose I'll be the gracious host, then." She set her wine down and left the room, calling over her shoulder, "I'll fetch some ambrosia for them. And tea for the mother."
Sally sat in silence, hands folded in her lap, her gaze distant. The weight of what she had been through—what she had seen—was settling on her shoulders.
I couldn't blame her.
I glanced at Percy. He was watching her carefully, jaw tight, hands curled into fists at his sides. He had fought his way through hell to get her back, and now that she was here—alive—he almost didn't know what to do.