The Last Heir

I stared at Persephone, my mind racing, my body frozen.

The Underworld. I was in the Underworld.

And that could only mean one thing.

I gasped, stepping back, clutching my chest like I had just been mortally wounded.

"Oh no!" I wailed. "I'm dead!"

Persephone blinked. "Kael—"

"This is it! My tragic end! My untimely demise! I was so young! So full of potential!" I threw my hands in the air, spinning dramatically. "I hadn't even kissed a girl yet! And now? My own mother has dragged me into the depths of the Underworld to perish in eternal darkness!"

Persephone gasped, placing a hand over her chest. "Oh no! What have I done?"

I stopped mid-spin. "…Wait, are you—?"

She grabbed my arm, eyes wide with mock horror. "Oh, my poor, poor son! Stolen from life before his time! Such a tragedy! Such heartbreak! Will the world ever recover from the loss of the legendary Kael Voss?"

I squinted at her. "Are you—are you making fun of me?"

She nodded solemnly. "Yes."

I groaned. "Unbelievable! My own mother mocking my suffering!"

She gasped again, even more dramatically this time. "How could I be so cruel? My own son, lost to the abyss! How shall I ever forgive myself?"

I crossed my arms. "You know, I was really committed to that performance. You could at least pretend to feel bad."

She placed a hand on my cheek, smiling warmly. "Oh, I do, my love. But you're not dead. So forgive me if I'm not drowning in guilt."

I sighed heavily. "Fine. But you should know, I had a whole monologue prepared. It was going to be tragic. Heart-wrenching. The kind of thing people cry over."

"Oh, I'm sure it was," she said, fighting a grin.

I narrowed my eyes. "I don't think you're taking my death seriously."

She rolled her eyes. "You're alive, Kael."

I groaned dramatically. "Fine." I turned to look over the balcony. "So if I'm not dead… where exactly am I?"

She gestured toward the landscape. "Look for yourself."

I hesitated, then stepped onto the black stone balcony.

And froze.

The Underworld stretched before me, vast and endless.

The sky was eternal twilight, neither day nor night, streaked with silver and violet. The land below was an eerie mix of shadows and muted colors, stretching on into the distance.

Spirits drifted through the fields, bickering like children. Some yelled at each other, pointing fingers dramatically. A ghost in a toga was swinging a cane at another ghost, screaming about a debt that was apparently still due, even in death.

The River Styx snaked through the land, its waters black and shifting. Charon was aggressively ignoring a ghost who was clearly trying to haggle the price of passage.

A pack of three-headed hellhounds sprinted past, barking wildly at a spirit who had apparently stolen something from another.

I turned back to Persephone.

"…This place is a mess."

She sighed. "Yes, well. It was much more orderly before."

I frowned. "Before what?"

She looked out over the landscape, her face softening with something that looked like worry.

"Hades is missing," she said quietly.

I blinked. "Wait. What?"

She nodded. "He vanished some time ago. Without him, the balance of the Underworld has been… fractured. The spirits have grown restless. Chaos spreads. The order that once kept the realms in harmony is fading."

I watched a ghostly fistfight break out below.

"…Yeah, I can tell."

Persephone shook her head. "I have done my best to maintain order, but…" She hesitated. "They don't listen to me the way they listened to him."

I turned to her, eyebrows furrowing. "So what do we do?"

She turned to me, her violet eyes steady.

"We do nothing."

I blinked. "Excuse me?"

She exhaled. "You, Kael, are the heir to the Underworld."

My brain short-circuited.

"…I'm sorry, the what?"

"The heir," she repeated. "You are Hades's son, and in his absence, you are next in line to rule."

I stared at her. Then back at the fighting ghosts. Then back at her.

A spirit was currently trying to tackle a skeleton while Cerberus watched, wagging his tail.

"…Yeah. No thanks."

Persephone stifled a laugh. "You don't get a choice, my love."

I threw my hands in the air. "I am thirteen . I don't even know how to file taxes. How am I supposed to run a kingdom?"

"Oh, don't worry," she said casually, linking her arm with mine and leading me down a black stone hallway. "You'll have plenty of help."

I narrowed my eyes. "You sound way too happy about this."

She beamed. "I've always wanted to spend more time with you."

I groaned. "I should have stayed asleep."

We walked through a set of massive obsidian doors, entering a chamber that felt ancient.

And there, at the far end, sat a throne.

It was huge, carved from pure black stone, etched with silver and gold markings that glowed faintly in the dim light. Shadows coiled around it, shifting like mist.

I swallowed hard.

"…That's my dad's, isn't it?"

Persephone nodded.

I approached slowly, feeling like I was stepping toward something forbidden.

And then—

I saw it.

A sword.

It was resting beside the throne, its black blade glinting in the dim light. The metal was so dark, it seemed to swallow the light around it. The edges gleamed with a faint, eerie glow, like it had been carved from the shadows themselves.

The second my eyes landed on it—

I felt it.

A pull.

It was calling me.

I stepped forward.

Persephone watched closely, her expression unreadable.

I reached for the sword.

The moment my fingers brushed the hilt—

It shrunk.

I stumbled back as it shifted, warping and twisting—until it fit perfectly in my grip.

I sucked in a sharp breath.

It was light now. Balanced. Like it had always been meant for me.

Persephone smirked.

"It has chosen you."

I stared at the blade. The darkness rippled, almost like it was breathing.

I clenched the hilt.

Then, turned to Persephone.

"…So. Do I get, like, a cool Underworld crown now? Maybe a cape?"

She grinned. "Would you like a cape?"

"…I would actually."

She laughed, ruffling my hair.

And for the first time since arriving here—

I didn't feel so lost.