The King’s Command

As Kael's hands reached over the sword's hilt, he felt something familiar pulling him in. It wasn't simply calling to him—it was waiting for him. The moment his fingers touched the hilt, power surged through his veins, his breathing stuck midway. His vision blurred, and before he could do anything, everything around him vanished.

He was somewhere else.

Darkness surrounded him. There was no ground beneath him, but he didn't fall. The sky was red like a blood moon, stretching endlessly in every direction. A tiny breeze carried the scent of something old and forgotten.

Then—he saw him.

A lone figure sat in the far distance, unmoving. Kael hesitated before stepping forward, cautious. With each step he took, the image became sharper. The man wasn't just sitting on the ground. He was seated on a pile of bodies. Warriors, soldiers—fallen in battle—lay beneath him. Shattered armor, broken weapons, and the remains of an endless war surrounded him like a graveyard frozen in time.

Yet, the man didn't move.

He sat in silence, his head bowed, his presence godly. It felt heavy with something Kael didn't understand. His face remained hidden, but something about him felt familiar—like an old wound, distant yet unforgettable.

The air was thick with the weight of loss. But he wasn't alone.

Shadows crawled around his legs, slithered over his shoulders, moving like they were alive. They weren't just part of him—they were their own beings, as if they had minds of their own. They clung to him, as though trying to comfort him.

Kael took another step.

At that moment, the man lifted his head.

Kael barely caught a glimpse of his face before everything collapsed.

The battlefield dissolved. The bodies faded. The shadows swallowed everything.

Then—he gasped.

His vision snapped back into focus. His body was shaking, and he found himself back in the chamber, gripping the sword tightly. His mother stood before him, shaking his shoulders, violet eyes filled with worry.

"Kael!"

His heart pounded. His fingers refused to loosen around the hilt, the warmth of its grip grounding him in the moment.

But the vision…

It felt real.

Too real.

His mind spun with questions.

What had he just seen?

And, more importantly—

Who was that man?

Kael gripped the sword tightly, his mind still racing from everything that had just happened. Slowly, he pushed aside the question about the man in his vision. He raised a hand.

"Cyrus."

The shadows trembled.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then—something massive leapt from the shadows.

It wasn't the small, playful creature he remembered.

No.

It was no longer cute—it looked menacing.

In its place stood a massive beast. Its fur was pure darkness, shifting like mist, and its silver eyes gleamed in the dim light. Large, bat-like wings stretched from its back, strong and sleek. Its tail flicked, crackling with restrained power.

Kael took a deep breath.

Cyrus blinked at him.

And Kael lost it.

"Oh my gods—look at you!" He lunged forward, wrapping his arms around the massive head. "You got huge! What happened?! You're terrifying! I'm so proud!"

Cyrus let out a deep, rumbling purr, pressing his head against him. His fur was cold, like winter air, but Kael didn't care.

He buried his face into its thick fur, ignoring the sharp claws that could probably tear through steel.

Then, Cyrus turned to Persephone.

For a moment, he froze. His eyes locked onto her.

Then, without hesitation, he launched himself at her.

Persephone gasped as the massive beast leapt—only to burst into laughter when Cyrus started licking her entire face.

She wiped her face, still laughing. "You remember me too, huh?"

Kael grinned, scratching under its huge chin. "Yeah, I missed you too, pal." He realized there was no time to sit around. The kingdom was still in chaos.

Kael turned toward the balcony, gripping the sword tighter.

Cyrus stood beside him, wings rustling, ready for whatever came next. Persephone stayed back, watching.

Kael stepped onto the ledge. He took a breath.

Then, he shouted.

"ENOUGH."

The Underworld froze.

The ghosts. The monsters. Even the River Styx seemed to stop moving.

Thousands of lifeless eyes turned toward him.

Kael gripped the sword tighter, his heart pounding in his chest.

"I AM KAEL VOSS, SON OF HADES," he declared, his voice loud. "And I will NOT have my kingdom in chaos."

A murmur ran through the crowd. Some scoffed. Others whispered among themselves.

Then, someone from below—some idiot—shouted.

"You're just a child! You have no power here!"

Kael let the words float in the air.

Then, he tilted his head with a smile.

"Oh?" His voice was now calm, almost amused. "And what happens to souls who defy the King of the Underworld?"

Silence.

The ghosts hesitated, but another restless spirit stepped forward, glaring up at him. "Who do you think you are, boy?"

Kael clenched his jaw.

He saw this coming.

He was hoping someone would mention it.

Slowly, he lifted the sword, pointing at the spirit.

"You dare question me?" His voice dropped, cold and sharp. His gaze darkened. "You dare speak to the son of Hades like that?"

A wave of unease spread across the crowd.

He stepped forward.

"I am the next king of the Underworld," he continued, his tone unwavering. "I do not tolerate chaos in my kingdom. And I do not tolerate disobedience."

A few spirits shuffled back.

The first ghost sneered. "We listen to no one but Hades."

Kael smirked. "Then you listen to me."

Darkness curled at his feet, twisting into the air.

"Unless," he said smoothly, tilting his head with a grin, like a villain in an anime, "you'd like to find out exactly what kind of punishments the son of Hades is capable of."

The Underworld fell silent.

Every eye locked onto him.

Cyrus growled low beside him, wings spreading.

Then, one by one, the spirits knelt.

The ones who had been fighting dropped their weapons. The ghosts who had been shouting bowed their heads. The restless souls who had ignored Persephone for so long finally obeyed.

Kael exhaled slowly, his chest loosening.

Then, he raised his voice once more.

"You will listen to my mother," he commanded. "You will obey her word as if it were my own. Disrespect her, and you disrespect me." His voice dropped into something ice-cold. "And I promise you—you do not want that."

Not a single sound could be heard.

They had heard him.

They had listened.

And Kael had no idea what to do next.

He ran back into the castle as fast as he could.

The moment he was out of sight—

He collapsed against the wall.

"Oh my gods," he muttered. "Oh gods, oh gods—what did I just do?"

Persephone burst into laughter.

Kael glared at her. "Mother, this is serious."

She wiped a tear from her eye, still grinning. "Kael, my love, that was perfect."

"I was bluffing the entire time!" he hissed. "What if they hadn't listened? What if they'd challenged me? I had no plan!"

She waved a hand. "Oh, but they did listen."

He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "I need a nap."

Persephone smiled, placing a hand on his head. "You did well."

He sighed. "Yeah, yeah."

Cyrus nudged him, almost knocking him over.

Kael chuckled faintly, scratching behind his ears. "And you. You really are all grown up, huh?"

Cyrus purred in response.

Persephone tilted her head. "You're learning, Kael."

Kael exhaled, glancing back toward the balcony. The kingdom was quiet now. Order restored.

For the first time, the title didn't feel quite so heavy.

"…Yeah," he muttered. "Guess I am."