The chamber was too clean.
Polished marble floors, gold-trimmed pillars, and velvet-lined chairs made it feel more like a royal banquet hall than a war council. A long table of dark wood stretched down the center, empty goblets and scrolls laid out like it was a formal occasion. It wasn't. Not really. This was where kingdoms would be drawn and split like loaves of bread.
Rhea called this meeting. Officially, to ensure fairness. Unofficially? I had a feeling this was Zeus's stage. He'd been preparing for this. I could see it in the way he leaned back in his chair, relaxed but poised, like he was already wearing a crown no one had agreed on yet.
The chamber itself was part of the newly reclaimed stronghold—one of the few places not touched by war or rot. They'd made it lavish, as if gold trim and silk cushions could hide the blood beneath our feet. We'd used it as a strategy room, a war room, and now… a throne room without thrones. Just three brothers, deciding the fate of the world like it was a family chore.
Zeus leaned forward, resting his elbows on the polished table. "We should divide the realms now."
The words dropped like a stone into the room's quiet.
I glanced at Rhea. Her expression was unreadable, but I didn't miss the slight incline of her head. This had been planned—maybe not entirely her idea, but she wasn't surprised.
Poseidon snorted. "We haven't even won the war yet."
"Which is exactly why we should settle this before swords start swinging," Zeus said, calm but firm. "We can't afford infighting later. If we go into battle knowing what comes after, it keeps us united."
I said nothing, just watched him. He wasn't wrong. But that didn't mean I trusted the motive.
He continued, more casual now. "Three brothers. Three realms. It's simple enough. I take the sky. Poseidon, the sea. Hades, the Underworld."
I tilted my head. "That's simple, is it?"
"It makes sense," Zeus replied, as if he hadn't just claimed the most expansive realm without blinking. "That just leaves the earth, the land shall remain neutral. A shared domain. Governed by all three, equally."
I stared at him. Blinked once.
"You gotta be joking."
Zeus blinked. "What?"
"I said —you have to be joking," I answered, folding my arms. "You just decided that I'll take the Underworld?"
"You're best suited for it," Poseidon said, scratching his beard. "It just works for you."
"I already own the Underworld. It was my first domain. When we were training and selecting our first domain that is what I chose to receive and that is what Tartarus agreed to give to me."
Zeus blinked again. "What?"
"I'm already the God of the Underworld," I said, calmly. "So this grand division? It's already flawed if I already own the Underworld, you are simply giving me what I already own."
Rhea tilted her head. "Then what are you proposing?"
I stood, slowly.
"If you insist on equality, then I have no choice but to select from the last two realms left. Either I take the Earth or I take all of Tartarus and to be frank I am not interested in the Abyss."
I stepped to the center of the table and placed my bidet upright. The stone cracked beneath its weight.
"So that just leaves the Earth, and that is what I am going to take."
Silence.
Even the torches flickered, like the flames themselves were shocked.
Poseidon sat up. Zeus froze, mouth half-open like I'd just slapped him with a fish.
"You what?" Poseidon finally said.
"I already rule the dead. The afterlife is mine. But the world of the living?" I looked directly at my brothers. "That's the realm I want."
Zeus scowled. "You would rob us of that? Of the mortal world?"
"You wanted equality and I gave it to you, but don't worry I shall allow you free access to my realm as long as you don't make a mess out of it."
Poseidon stood now, his voice sharp. "And what would you even do with the earth? It isn't your nature."
"Yes that is true," I said quietly. "No matter what, I will become a Chthonic god. But that does not mean that I can not take care of the very land that we were born on."
Poseidon grumbled. "Fine, you can take the Earth."
Zeus glared at him. "You're agreeing to this?"
"I'm agreeing to not argue," Poseidon muttered. "Which is a miracle in itself."
Zeus turned back to me. He stared for a long moment.
Then, finally, he nodded. Once. Grudgingly.
☼
After the meeting with my brothers, the air in the chamber felt too heavy. Like a contract had been signed in invisible ink, but the ink was blood and the quill had been forced into my hand.
The Earth. Mine.
It didn't feel real yet. Maybe it wouldn't until mortals raised cities and cried out prayers beneath my feet. But one thing had been real: the Underworld.
The realm I had claimed. The realm that had claimed me first.
I stepped out of the central chamber and made my way toward the mountain's edge, letting my fingers trail along the carved basalt walls of our new stronghold. Olympus still smelled like wet stone and new fire — a kingdom half-born, waiting to be crowned.
As I reached the outer passage, the wind hit me — brisk, sharp, almost biting.
I looked out from the ledge. The sun dipped low in the west, casting long shadows over the world below. My shadow stretched far behind me, clawing toward the threshold of Olympus like it wanted to pull me back. But I had other plans.
"Huh," I muttered to myself. "Maybe it's time I visited the Underworld."
Behind me, I heard the deep scrape of stone boots on the floor, followed by a familiar booming voice.
"Heading off so soon, young lord?"
I turned just in time to see Brontes approaching, one massive hand raised in greeting. His brothers — Arges and Steropes — followed behind, chatting amongst themselves, their deep voices echoing down the hall like distant thunder. Close behind them were the four Hecatoncheires — Cottus, Briareus, Aegaeon, and Gyges — now with only four arms each, all folded or slung lazily as they strolled like soldiers between campaigns.
"Brontes," I said with a smirk. "Taking a break from hammering Olympus into shape?"
The bearded Cyclops grinned. "We finished the outer walls yesterday. The stone's harder than the mountain bone. She'll hold on."
"She'd better," I said. "We've still got one Titan King left to kill."
Brontes clapped his hands together — a sound like boulders slamming shut. "So? Where're you off to?"
I gestured toward the edge of the cliff. "The Underworld. Figured I should finally visit the place I supposedly rule."
Gyges raised a thick brow. "Only now, Lord Hades?"
I shrugged. "Tartarus was a prison break. I've never actually walked the rest of the realm. If I'm going to wear a crown down there, I'd prefer it not be on top of a garbage heap."
Brontes chuckled, and Arges gave a low rumble of agreement.
"Mind if we tag along?" Brontes asked.
I blinked, surprised. "You want to come?"
Aegaeon grinned, his expression sharp and amused. "We're builders, Lord Hades. Realms don't fix themselves."
"Besides," Briareus added, "we heard rumors. The Underworld's a wreck. Someone should bring a few hammers."
"Well then, let's go." I raised a hand, focusing on my divinity. A crack appeared in the cave floor, before widening as the stones shifted, creating stairs that descended deep into the earth.
Briareus and Cottereus moved to my side, assisting me as I made my way toward the newly revealed passage. "Lead the way, Brontes," I said, my voice regaining its strength. "Arges, Steropes. Can one of you get like a torch or something? Would be nice to see where we are going."
The three brothers led us down the fissure, they held torches to light the way as the cracks closed behind us leaving us in darkness. The air grew hotter the further that we went, then it suddenly shifted as it got suddenly colder.
The tunnel we'd just crawled through had been cramped, damp, and the kind of dark that made you feel like your bones were holding their breath. So, when we finally stepped out into the open air, I expected relief.
Instead, I felt... quiet.
The land before us sprawled in every direction, a desolate canvas of stone and ash. No wind, no birdsong, no life—just a heavy silence that pressed in around my ears. The Underworld. Or at least, the beginning of it.
"This place is... a mess," Brontes muttered, giving the ground a lazy kick. Dust puffed into the air like smoke.
I didn't respond. I walked forward, stopping at the edge of the cliff that overlooked the endless stretch of land below. The fog was thick, curling like old breath over the barren earth. Jagged peaks stabbed at the sky like broken spears, and far in the distance, five rivers twisted like veins through the soil.
Of course these were the five rivers of the underworld. Acheron, Cocytus, Phlegethon, Lethe and Styx.
Acheron was the river of sorrow or woe. The Roman poet Virgil called it the main river of Tartarus. Charon ferried the newly dead across the Acheron to enter the underworld.
Cocytus was the river of lamentation from the Greek word kōkuein, which means "to weep, lament". It's mentioned in Homer's Odyssey where it's described as a branch of the Styx that flows into the Acheron.
Phlegethon was the river of fire, also known as Pyriphlegethon, which means "fire-flaming". It's mentioned in Homer's Odyssey where it flows into the Acheron. It also had healing properties that upon breaking the flaming liquid could heal any wound and allow even a mortal to survive in Tartarus.
Then there was the Lethe. The river of forgetfulness. The river was also known as the Amelēs potamos, which means "river of unmindfulness"
And of course lastly the Styx was the main river that separates the living from the dead, if I remember right and of course I did as I was a nerd in my old life. In Homer's Iliad, it's called "the dread river of oath".
The five rivers all connected into a lake in the middle of the underworld, it was called the Stygian Marsh. Though I am going to have to rename it as I always thought it sounded weird.
They converged at the center, merging into a massive lake: the Stygian Marsh. Though, honestly, I never liked that name. It sounded like a swamp you'd find frogs in, not the central artery of the land of the dead.
Souls wandered in the distance, their shapes loose and flickering, like candle flames in a storm. Some were human. Others... weren't. Beasts, serpents, birds. It looked like a broken ark spilled open into a dead land.
And yet, it was mine.
"You got your work cut out for you, Lord Hades," Brontes said again, this time more seriously.
I nodded. "Yes. But I have a vision."
They waited. All seven of them, I turned back to the cliffside and pointed down.
I pointed toward the barren expanse where there was this large crater . "We're going to transform this large wasteland into something for the souls of the dead. Start by carving out the City of Asphodel. Two cities, actually. The Lower City will be in that lower section while the Upper City shall be built on the land above it. I want a set of stairs built on the cliff face going up to the upper city."
Briareus nodded, his many hands folding across his chest. "Alright… am I to assume that you want the Upper city to be fancier than the Lower City?"
"Yes," I said, pointing to the distant, fog-wreathed peak that loomed in the east like the spine of a fallen titan. "And then a place called Elysium will be built on that mountain. Flatten the summit, level the ridgeline, and carve terraces into its sides. I want it turned into a paradise—something brighter, freer. A realm of peace for the worthy. It will be far grander than the City of Asphodel."
Arges gave a low whistle, his single eye wide with something between admiration and disbelief. "Never thought I'd be building paradise in the deadlands."
"Then you lack imagination," I said, letting a tired smile slip across my lips. "Just because it's the land of the dead doesn't mean it has to be a land of misery."
Southward, the fog lightened slightly, revealing an expanse of cracked, dry plains. A shallow wind drifted through, carrying the scent of dust and something ancient—something older than bones. My eyes followed its path, and I gestured again.
"South of here, there's a plain. Leave it untouched. That will be Arkadia. A sanctuary for the souls of animals and beasts who pass. They deserve rest too."
Brontes blinked. "You're building a zoo for the dead?"
"A sanctuary," I corrected. "A quiet land. No judgment. No walls. A place where they can simply exist without suffering."
Aegaeon—taller than even Brontes, with skin like ancient stone and four thick arms folded across his chest—tilted his head, considering. "A realm where even beasts are given peace. No chains. No cages."
"Exactly."
He nodded solemnly, and then clapped all four of his hands together. The echo cracked like thunder across the wasteland. "Then it's decided. Let us begin at once."