Kingdom Hearts: Consumed by Darkness

Zeus stroked his chin, his piercing blue-purple eyes narrowing in mock seriousness. "Normally, I wouldn't let someone weasel their way into changing a deal like this," he said, his booming voice tinged with amusement. "But... you did expose Hades for breaking the rules I put in place. So, why not?"

With a dramatic flourish, Zeus conjured a gleaming gold medal. The embossed design featured a swirling cloud wrapped in a crackling lightning bolt. He tossed it to Helios, who caught it with surprising ease, though his exhaustion was evident.

"All you need to do is call my name while holding that, and a ride to Olympus will whisk you straight to Hephaestus' Forge," Zeus explained, his grin widening. Then, with a wink and a thunderous laugh, he disappeared in a flash of lightning, leaving the air charged and crackling.

Helios fell back onto the scorched ground with a groan, the adrenaline finally leaving his body. "I think I'm officially out of fuel," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

Sephiroth, his expression unreadable, glanced down at Helios. "We should leave before that petty god of the Underworld sends his minions to finish the job."

Helios nodded weakly. "You're not wrong," he admitted. Summoning the last reserves of his magic, he raised his hand and cast a weak Cura on them both. A faint green glow enveloped them both, closing their wounds just enough to allow movement.

The healing spell left Helios visibly drained, but he forced himself to his feet. "The rest will have to wait until we're somewhere safe," he said, his voice strained.

Their journey back to Thebes was slow and arduous, their battered bodies protesting every step. The sun began its descent, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. The once-oppressive curse of the Underworld had lifted, allowing them to feel the world's natural energy again, though their strength returned only in small increments.

Sephiroth walked ahead, his posture rigid but purposeful, while Helios trailed behind, his steps sluggish. "Hey, Seph," Helios called, breaking the silence. "You ever think maybe we should—oh, I don't know—take a vacation after all this? I for sure need one."

Sephiroth didn't respond, though the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth hinted at his disapproval of the nickname.

By the time they reached the inn, dusk had settled over Thebes. The familiar sight of the cozy, modest building brought a wave of relief. Helios stumbled slightly as they entered, catching himself on the doorframe.

They climbed the stairs to their shared room, the wooden boards creaking beneath their feet. As they entered, Skuld's worried face greeted them. She stood from where she had been sitting near Cloud's bed, her expression a mix of concern and frustration.

"What happened to you two?" she demanded, crossing her arms.

Helios waved her off with a weak smile. "We, uh… went a little crazy in a fight," he said, his tone light despite the exhaustion in his eyes.

Skuld narrowed her eyes, but the sight of their burned and bloodied forms softened her scolding. "You both look like you barely made it out alive," she muttered, stepping aside to let them pass.

"Pretty accurate," Helios admitted, collapsing onto the nearest bed.

Sephiroth sat down on the other bed, his movements deliberate but strained. Helios raised a hand lazily. "Skuld, do me a favor?"

She blinked, her concern deepening. "What?"

"Keep an eye on Cloud for us. We just need to rest for a bit," Helios said, his voice trailing off as his eyes closed.

Despite their injuries being healed during the journey, the sheer physical and magical toll left both men drained. Helios fell asleep almost immediately, his breathing deep and steady. Sephiroth leaned back against the wall, his piercing gaze flicking to Skuld briefly before he closed his eyes as well.

Skuld sighed, returned to her room, and turned her attention to Cloud, who remained asleep but looked more at ease than he had before. She pulled a chair closer to his bed, keeping her watchful vigil as the sounds of the bustling city outside gradually faded into the quiet of the night.

The dim light of the room was muted by the drawn curtains, the quiet hum of Thebes in the distance creating a strange calm. Sephiroth's eyes snapped open, their eerie glow cutting through the darkness. He had felt it—an unfamiliar presence lurking nearby.

"Whoever's there," he said coldly, his voice slicing through the silence, "show yourself."

A puff of black smoke erupted in the center of the room, the scent of sulfur and heat filling the air. As the smoke cleared, Hades emerged, his flaming blue hair casting a flickering light over the walls.

"Easy there, tall, dark, and gloomy," Hades said, holding his hands up in mock surrender as Sephiroth's hand instinctively moved toward the hilt of Masamune. "I'm not here for a fight. Relax, will ya?"

Sephiroth didn't draw his blade, but his sharp gaze remained locked on the god. "Then what do you want?"

Hades grinned, a toothy smile that spoke of schemes yet to be revealed. "Oh, you know, just a little chat. A proposal, if you will. Oh and don't worry, no one can hear us not the twerp or the girl in the other room so feel comfortable."

Sephiroth's eyes narrowed, but he didn't speak, allowing Hades to continue.

 "First off," Hades began, pacing casually, "let me just say I'm not exactly thrilled about you and the twerp running off like that. That little stunt? Super uncool. But…" He paused, gesturing animatedly, "I gotta admit, the crowd loved it. All the drama, the tension, the explosions? Top-tier entertainment."

Sephiroth remained silent, his piercing gaze watching the god's every movement.

"So," Hades said, stopping and turning to face him, "I'm here to make you an offer. A formal invitation, if you will, to return to the Underdrome."

Sephiroth tilted his head slightly, skepticism flickering across his face. "Why would I want to do that?"

"Glad you asked!" Hades said, snapping his fingers and conjuring a small burst of flames. "Look, I get it. The twerp? He's got his little quest, his noble goals. Yada yada. But you?" Hades pointed at Sephiroth, his grin widening. "You're different. You enjoy the fight. The thrill, the challenge. And this world? Oh, baby, it's all about battle. Gladiators, tournaments, the works."

Hades leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. "Let's face it, tall, dark, and terrifying—you're not the 'sit around and wait for something to happen' type. You crave action, and the Underdrome? It's the perfect stage for someone like you."

Sephiroth studied him for a long moment, his expression unreadable. "And why would you want me there? What do you gain from this?"

Hades shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "Hey, I'm a businessman. I know a good investment when I see one. You're a crowd-pleaser, pal. People love watching you fight. You bring in the numbers, I get the glory. It's a win-win."

The room fell silent for a beat before Hades reached into the air, conjuring a small black object—a medal, similar to the one Zeus had given Helios, but darker and twisted, with jagged edges and a faint, ominous glow.

"Here's the deal," Hades said, tossing the medal to Sephiroth, who caught it with one hand. "No matter where you are, you say my name while holding that, and bam! Instant ride back to this world."

Sephiroth glanced down at the medal, its cold surface glinting faintly in the low light.

"Think it over," Hades said, his tone smooth but dripping with hidden motives. "I'm not asking for an answer now. Just keep it in your back pocket—or wherever you put those ridiculously long sleeves—and remember the offer. Anytime you're bored, anytime you're looking for a real challenge, you know who to call."

Hades turned to leave, but paused, his grin returning. "One last thing: tell the twerp I said hi. And tell him thanks for the chaos—it really brought the place to life. But if he ever steps foot in the Underworld again he'll regret it."

Before Sephiroth could respond, Hades disappeared in another puff of black smoke, leaving behind the faint scent of brimstone.

Sephiroth stared at the medal in his hand, his mind working through the implications. His grip tightened slightly, his lips curving into a faint smirk as he placed the medal into the folds of his coat.

"Hades," he muttered to himself, his voice low and thoughtful.

He leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes once more, but his mind remained sharp, considering the god's offer and what it might mean for his future.