A Tale of an Unstable Crown – Extra

I returned to the Underworld faster than I had expected—and with two more guests than I had planned: Metis and Aphrodite. Zeus is bound to be furious. Though Metis may not realize it, part of my reason for doing this was for Hera. Now the path to the throne is open for my sister. I may not be the closest to her, but after spending years together in our father's stomach, I sincerely want to see her happy.

"Hades, thank you for helping me," Metis said as we touched down in the Underworld. I could see the curiosity in her eyes as she took in her surroundings.

"Don't mention it. Everyone should have the right to choose their own fate," I replied, casting a sideways glance at both her and Aphrodite.

"Still, you took a great risk for me. You've placed yourself directly in Zeus's crosshairs, making it appear as though you seek the throne of the heavens. I'm certain he sees you as a traitor now. And to make matters worse, I believe Hera will poison him further against you, making herself out to be the only one who remains loyal."

Metis's analysis made me furrow my brow. It was harsh—but true. Deep down, I may have already known it and simply refused to admit it.

"I believe the story of how I was taken to the Underworld will be... heavily distorted. Especially since you also brought Aphrodite. They'll turn you into the villain, Hades. You realize that, don't you?"

"Yes... but I was destined to be the villain no matter what. The only choice I have is to decide what kind of villain I become," I answered her, then turned to Aphrodite.

"Why did you agree to come here? You hardly give off the energy of someone who walks the land of the dead with a smile."

"The envy, the desire, the love of Olympus... it's intoxicating," she said, looking at me. I saw her eyes shift in hue—from the familiar brown of my beloved to an eerie pink.

"It wasn't until you arrived that I realized how much it was affecting me. I was becoming more and more intoxicated by those emotions."

She paused for a moment, as if to collect her thoughts.

"I am neither Titan nor Olympian goddess, but I am imbued with divinity just the same. Being surrounded by such powerful emotions was tainting me—corrupting the concepts of my domain, of who I am. Had you not come, I might have become nothing more than a shadow of who I once was... twisted, possessive love incarnate.

When you looked at me, you saw love—but it didn't bring you happiness. It filled you with bloodlust. I felt your hatred in the moments when my domain over beauty overtook you. But then... it faded. Something else took its place—an emotion I couldn't identify. Trying to understand that moment made me see the stains within my domain."

Metis and I remained silent, watching her. But with Aphrodite's words, I could picture it: eons spent among the gods, her essence slowly corrupted until she became a parody of herself.

"I'm glad I could help you," I said at last, "even if I believe you might've freed yourself eventually."

"Maybe," she replied. "But now, tell me—what exactly are these gargoyles you need help with?"

We had, by this time, made our way into the castle's main hall, where one of the gargoyles was already waiting for us. There was no trace of the feast that had once been held there.

"I created them as guardians and caretakers of the castle and the souls who will inhabit it. But perhaps because they are newly born, they lack the capacity for complex thought."

As we entered, I spotted the first gargoyle I had tasked with finding a nymph to help spread the fungi through the Underworld.

I could sense it—her divine essence had fused more deeply into her stone form, and now she possessed a domain. The moment I noticed it, her domain tethered to mine, becoming partially absorbed into my sovereignty over the Underworld.

That gargoyle had developed dominion over Unfortunate Winds, and she was already using her newfound mastery. Suspended between her wings was a floating sphere of water—and within it, a single fish swam.

Upon seeing us, a smile stretched across her stone-carved face, now subtly reshaped by the winds that encircled her. They had softened her features, giving her a more human-like appearance. Her body, sculpted from stone, resembled a mountain worn down by the relentless touch of time and weather. She moved quickly toward us—but tripped on nothing. With an awkward flap of her wings, she managed to catch herself midair and glided to a stop beside me.

"Father/Mother, I have brought the nymph you requested," she said, bowing and extending the fish toward me.

"I am a nymph," the fish declared in a small, mechanical-sounding voice. I could sense a faint spark of natural divinity sealed inside it, enchanted solely to repeat those words whenever it was looked upon.

Apparently, nymphs weren't particularly eager to visit the Underworld. Understandable. But why play such a cruel trick on the poor gargoyle? She looked at me with such hope in her eyes.

With a soft sigh, I took control of the water sphere, reached out, and gently placed my hand on her head.

"Well done," I said. "You may return to your post. I will handle the nymph from here."

With an excited flap of her wings, the gargoyle soared upward and disappeared. The moment she left, Metis and Aphrodite burst into laughter.

"Now I see what you meant by the gargoyles," Aphrodite said, wiping a tear from her eye. "They don't have instinctive knowledge like we do."

"Don't worry, Hades," Metis added, still smiling. "I'll help Aphrodite, and together we can guide them. In the meantime, why don't you go... take care of your nymph?"

"Very funny. I'm dying of laughter," I muttered, before invoking my dominion over the Underworld to transport myself elsewhere—appearing now near the River Styx.

Perhaps I left in embarrassment, retreating not out of necessity, but from a flush of self-awareness. Still, I felt satisfied—relieved, even. Metis and Aphrodite would take care of the gargoyles. And if the pattern held, they too would eventually awaken minor divine domains. The first of them had gained hers only after enduring a string of unfortunate events—hardships that would have broken any lesser being. But I had shaped their bodies to be resilient beyond natural design, and that resilience birthed divinity.

But enough about gargoyles.

Now... what to do with this fish?

I briefly considered transforming it into a leviathan, something colossal to guard the waters of the Acheron. But no—that idea didn't feel right. Perhaps adapting it to the Lethe, to swim through the waters of forgetfulness? Still, that felt incomplete.

And then it struck me—just because it was a fish didn't mean it couldn't serve a greater purpose. It could become something more—an intermediary force between the waters and the fungi I had begun cultivating across the Underworld. A bridge between two ecosystems.

Invoking my full sovereignty over the Underworld, I reached out with my consciousness and submerged myself in the fish's form, examining every detail of its anatomy. It was roughly thirty centimeters long and twelve centimeters wide—broad, thick-scaled, with a muddy brown hue. An unimpressive creature, perhaps, but brimming with potential.

The first change I implemented was the most vital: I granted it the ability to breathe both air and water, adapting its gills and lungs to function in tandem. Survival across the domains of the Underworld required flexibility. Then I focused on the front fins—lengthening and reinforcing them until they were capable of dragging the creature along the ground. One day, I thought, these might become legs. The tail was next. I reshaped it to lie horizontally, like that of a whale, enhancing its strength and maneuverability through currents both mundane and metaphysical.

Its scales, once dull and uniform, I reengineered. They were now harder, more resistant—layered like armor but flexible enough to move with its body. More importantly, I infused them with the capacity to absorb properties from whatever the creature consumed, laying the groundwork for future evolution. The aura surrounding the fish grew faintly luminous with latent energy, like the first flickers of a divine spark.

Next, I turned my attention to reproduction. I gave the species a method of asexual propagation, allowing each fish to reproduce on its own. However, to prevent overpopulation, I embedded within them a biological clock—an innate awareness of the species' numbers. When that threshold was reached, reproduction would cease, preserving balance without the need for interference.

Then came the most critical change.

I altered its very soul, binding it tightly to the body in a way that allowed it to safely traverse the cursed rivers of the Underworld. No divine barrier, no spectral current would tear it apart. As a side effect, its once-earthy scales darkened, gaining a rich purple hue—like bruised amethyst reflecting in black water.

I continued my work, turning now to its digestive system. I modified it to feed on the emotional byproducts of souls—residue such as anguish, longing, and despair. While the rivers of the Underworld were not yet saturated with these fragments, I knew it was only a matter of time. Eventually, the weight of countless mortal lives would spill into these waters. When that day came, the fish would serve a vital role: purifying the rivers simply by existing, consuming the soul-waste before it could accumulate.

But more than that, these fragments would fuel its growth.

The species would undergo two stages of evolution.

The first transformation would grant them the ability to walk on land and burrow through the subterranean layers of the Underworld. Their diet would shift toward fungi—not the mushrooms themselves, but the ambient energy they emitted. Drawn to these spores, the creatures would linger near fungal clusters, their scales gradually coated in the bioluminescent particles. Over time, they would become the primary agents of fungal expansion, spreading spores wherever they roamed.

Visually, they would retain their violet scales, but their bodies would develop subtler contrasts between the belly and the spine. Their faces would become more amphibian in shape, resembling a strange hybrid between a wingless dragon and a toad.

The second transformation would turn them into true subterranean titans. Their diet would shift once again—this time to metals and precious minerals. The materials consumed would bond to their scales, embedding themselves in layered patterns like veins of ore within living flesh. Over the course of their lives, these enriched scales would shed and be absorbed by the earth, almost like seeds. Where they fell, new veins of metal would form—living, breathing cycles of regeneration.

By then, their appearance would be unmistakably draconic. Their bodies sleek, powerful, armored in scales that shimmered like gemstones mined from the heart of the world.

Satisfied with my work, I released the fish into the River Styx. It didn't hesitate. It swam directly toward one of the far corners of the black waters and began laying eggs in silence, its legacy already in motion.

A soft smile tugged at my lips.

I turned my attention once again to the fungi of the Underworld. With a minor shift of will, I imbued them with a soft radiance—an energy that illuminated the area around them in faint glows of deathlight. This light, bound in part to my dominion over death, was harmless to souls. In fact, when a soul passed through it, the light would cling faintly to their essence, bringing with it a touch of lucidity. A fragment of awareness.

They wouldn't be fully restored, of course, but it would offer them a sliver of autonomy in the afterlife—a dim torch in eternal shadow. With any luck, it might even lessen the burden of my duties in the long run.

With the final flicker of divine will, I transported myself once more to the castle's main hall.

There, nearly thirty gargoyles were undergoing their final trials beneath the sharp, focused eyes of Metis and Aphrodite. One by one, each stepped forward, standing before the goddesses as they posed questions meant to test their judgment, memory, and intuition.

Time in the Underworld is strange. With no sky, no sun, no stars, the concept of hours and days slips through your grasp. I felt as though I had only just left, and yet—judging by the progress in the room—it may have been days. Or weeks. Perhaps even months.

And speaking of time…

I felt it—a new presence on the edges of the Acheron.

Zeus had done it. He had created the mortals.

A soul approached the river, trembling and unsure in its new form. And not long after, I sensed the presence of Demeter and Hestia arriving to guide it.

The Underworld, it seems, is about to get much more lively.