The God of Underworld

Deep within Gaia's soul.

Nyx observed the entity calmly, her form unmoving, her arms crossed as her authority dancing around her, preventing any corruption from getting near her.

"Release her at this instant." she said, her voice low and cold, like midnight over a frozen sea.

The entity did not respond in words.

Instead, the mouths on its body opened, screeching sounds that were not sounds.

Lashing tongues, coated in acidic memories, reached for Nyx.

Eyes of perception tried to rewrite her essence.

The world inside Gaia's soul screamed.

But it was useless.

Every attack was ignored—negated before reaching her. Space itself bent to avoid touching her.

Nyx stood there, untouched. Her presence remained absolute and untainted.

Finally, the entity paused. The mouths closed, the tendrils slowed, and the central eye blinked.

Then, in broken, guttural speech, it finally spoke.

"Why… do you stop… the Feeding…?"

Nyx's gaze didn't waver.

"Because I detest your kind," she answered simply. "Your existence is a corruption. You don't belong here. This universe is mine, and I will not allow it to become food for some mindless outer-parasite."

The entity was still for a moment.

Then, it blinked slowly, and chuckled—a sickening ripple of sound that shook even the warped dream-realm they stood in.

"Don't... speak... as if...you are different...You… are like me. A parasite… that broke off… from a greater whole…"

Nyx's eyes narrowed, shadows rippling from her gown like slow waves of oblivion.

"Don't compare me to you," she said sharply.

The entity ignored her protest, speaking more fluently now, as though mocking her with words it had stolen from gods it devoured.

"I have tasted this universe… consumed its bones… and drunk its stars… I have learned its history."

The great eye turned slightly, its gaze focusing on Gaia's unconscious form.

"You... The Greeks were not… the first. They were never the original gods of this place. You, Nyx… you were the first… of the second."

Nyx's aura sharpened, a wave of dark pressure surging outward, causing the soul-realm to crack.

But the entity wasn't finished.

"You found this place… when you were still like me… a wandering shadow… a fragment cast off from something older. You devoured the native gods… the true ones… and from their ashes… you built your Primordial Court."

Nyx said nothing. Her expression had gone still, deathly still.

The entity grinned, if such a thing could grin.

"What were their names again…? Ah, yes…"

Its single eye stared straight at her.

"Romans."

A stillness descended.

Then, Nyx moved.

Her aura erupted like a collapsing galaxy.

The shadows of forgotten eternities spilled from her form, forming shapes that whispered of death before time.

The world inside Gaia's soul shook, the barriers bent.

The entity laughed, delighted.

"Did I strike a nerve… goddess of the usurped throne?"

Nyx did not answer.

Instead, she lifted a single finger, and the sky of this soul space shattered like glass.

A thousand moons, black and howling, descended from the void, all connected by threads of night.

Her voice echoed across the broken skies of the soul.

"So what if you know the truth? The Romans were weak, so I devoured them. At least then they can be part of something greater."

The entity tried to respond, tendrils lunged, a cloud of unremembered time surged forward.

But Nyx's gown rose like an ocean.

All light disappeared. Her attack completely engulfed everything in existence.

Even the entity screeched, retreating for the first time.

"You do not understand," Nyx said, stepping forward. "You are beneath this universe. I, however… I am its Queen."

She raised her hand, and stars formed behind her palm—ancient, hollow suns created by her will alone.

The entity screamed again as it tried to devour her, but each attempt was swallowed by the void she wielded.

"Return," she commanded. "To the chaos that spat you out."

But before she could strike the final blow—

A tremor pulsed through Gaia's soul.

Nyx stopped.

The entity, driven by its instinct to survive, it began to split—fragments of its eye peeling off like scales, forming new versions of itself, smaller, sharper, more precise.

"Feeding… must continue…" it hissed.

Nyx's face turned stone cold. "Then I'll destroy you all."

*

*

*

Outside.

The endless sand, the edge of Hades' realm cracked and groaned under the pressure of the entity that once was Gaia.

Hades stared as the once enormous being began to shrank. She was evolving. And Hades has no intention of stopping it.

For him, letting your opponent grow stronger and evolve midfight is a privilege for the strong.

It is his pride and confidence in his power that made him believe that no matter how strong the enemy got, he can effortlessly handle it.

After all, he is the strongest.

Gaia's body, corrupted and devoured from within, no longer resembled the giant monstrosity that she once was.

She was smaller now, human-sized, but no less threatening. If anything, her compact form exuded even more condensed malice, like a dying star on the verge of collapse.

She hovered several feet above the blackened sand, her body emanating dark energy that shimmered like oil over boiling water.

Her skin was obsidian black, her hair a chaotic tangle of glowing white strands that floated as if underwater.

Her eyes—black sclera with golden irises—gleamed with an unnatural focus.

And at the center of her forehead, a single vertical eye remained open, its pupil ever-shifting, unnatural and alive.

Hades narrowed his eyes.

"Well," he muttered, rolling his neck. "You got a makeover. Congratulations."

The new Gaia didn't respond. She stood in eerie stillness, head tilted slightly as if analyzing him.

Then, without warning, she moved.

In an instant, she was in front of him, her fist crashing into his chest with enough force to bend the surrounding reality.

Hades grunted as his feet dug trenches in the obsidian ground, pushed back dozens of meters.

He smirked. "Better. But still not enough."

He vanished, reappearing behind her. With a spin of his wrist, Desmos returned to his hand.

The cursed spear shimmered with layers of ancient hexes, its surface crawling with black runes and inverted geometry.

He stabbed, but Gaia caught the spear with one hand.

Her yellow eye widened as Desmos' curse activated. The laws of causality inverted once more, making her body bleed before she was stabbed.

But unlike before, she didn't flinch.

Instead, a mouth opened on her palm and bit into the the parts of her body that was affected by the curse.

Hades leapt back, landing lightly. "I guess its time to upgrade my weapons. Its curse keeps getting cancelled out."

The black mud at Gaia's feet began to crawl again, spreading outward like a living tide, hungry for the Underworld itself.

Even the shadows recoiled as the alien sludge threatened to consume them.

Hades raised his hand, calling upon his domain.

The skies above turned pitch-black. A red moon rose, his authority over the dead in full bloom.

"This is my world," he said coolly. "I am the gate, the warden, the ruler."

The ground split open behind him, and the souls of the damned began to rise—wraiths, phantoms, ancient monsters once sealed by the gods.

They hovered silently, awaiting command.

"Feast."

He pointed at Gaia, and they obeyed.

Dozens of nightmarish souls lunged, shrieking as they crashed into Gaia.

She met them head-on, her body transforming mid-motion—arms elongating into claws, jaw unhinging into a maw of fangs, limbs sprouting tendrils that impaled the phantoms in midair.

She devoured them.

Their screams echoed across the Underworld as their essence was consumed and converted into raw chaos.

The mud grew thicker.

Her aura intensified.

Still, Hades didn't panic.

He moved again, faster than before. He rained a barrage of attacks upon her—slashes that turned air into blades, blasts that ripped open cracks in space.

Every hit landed. Every cut, every seal, every curse. Gaia's body exploded, was torn apart, disintegrated—again and again.

And again, she regenerated.

Even without her connection to Earth, Gaia's life force, amplified and distorted by the parasite within, was nearly limitless.

Her body adapted to his every technique, reforming stronger and more grotesque with each strike.

Hades stood amidst the destruction, Desmos now missing half its shaft. The air smelled of iron and ozone. The endless sands were beginning to rot.

He watched as Gaia's form reassembled again, her blackened skin cracking with golden light from within.

Then, for the first time, she spoke—or rather, something spoke through her.

"King of Death…We see you… you are alone. Even your dominion… will be eaten in time…"

Hades scoffed. "Put a scratch on me first before you make such claims."

He readied his spear once more.

This time, he activated another authority.

One he rarely used.

Gaia's third eye twitched, sensing danger. Its instincts screamed. Whatever Hades is planning on doing, it will definitely kill her.

Hades smiled seeing her expression.

That's right. This authority is more effective on immortal beings like the gods. It is their most Primordial fear, one they consider a nightmare.

And that is...

Mortality.