The ashen plane beneath the Hanging Fortress of Pluto stretched endlessly, an ocean of darkness brushed with flickers of phantom light from drifting soul-wisps.
Here, at the heart of the Underworld, Hades stood, arms crossed, his piercing gaze scanning the emptiness as if already envisioning what would soon rise from it.
Beside him stood Hera, her hands clasped behind her back, regal and calm, and Hecate, cloaked in starlight and mist, her expression thoughtful.
"A city," Hera proposed, her voice carrying a quiet strength. "Right here. A place for souls to dwell, to gather. Something more than barren stone and silence. A sanctuary for the dead, a home for the divines."
Hecate nodded. "Even the dead long for structure, for beauty. A city will bring harmony to this realm. It can give form to your rule, lord Hades."
But Hades remained silent for a moment, eyes narrowing.
