Three Tickets To The Underworld Please

"You think?"

"Yes, Newt. I think."

Shaking his head, Newt turned to Kratos with a look that read 'I'm-tired-of-her.' The god flashed him a toothy grin and patted him on his shoulder. He interpreted that as a subtle way of telling him Sharina was difficult without saying a word.

"Really?" Sharina asked, staring at their little exchange. "Might as well get a room."

"Relax," Kratos sighed. "So, how are you getting down there?"

"Hades showed me a few memories of himself and his subordinate in the Underworld. His right-hand man, Thanatos, was a huge fan of music."

Newt's face scrunched up in annoyance, not because of Sharina's comment, but because of the piece of hair dangling over his eye. Lifting his right hand, he brushed his brown hair back, before registering what the host of death had said.

"You want us to sing our way to the underworld? Like Orpheus?"