Time passed, silent and relentless. In the realm of the dead, where decades felt like mere echoes of breath, Hades maintained his peaceful life.
Within his private sanctum at the heart of his hanging fortress, Hades stood alone, bathed in the pale glow of an ancient scrying mirror.
A projection shimmered in the void before him, revealing the world above.
There, the sun cast its golden crown over a land that once knew only wilderness, blood, and fire.
But now… now it bore the mark of civilization.
The humams had changed.
Hades watched as Herios, older now but still proud and firm, oversaw the planting of grain fields beyond the city wall.
The humans had discovered the art of agriculture, no longer did they wander as starving prey.
They had tamed the land, feeding themselves not from the hunt, but from the soil itself.
It had begun with trial and error, but Helios, ever the patient leader, observed and learned.
