In the cold, cavernous depths beneath Hades’ Hanging Fortress, there existed a chamber, hewn from obsidian and lined with flickering torches of blue Underworld fire, this was the Hall of Silence, the meeting chamber of the Twelve Patrons of the Underworld.
No spirits had ever seen it. Even many gods feared to step inside.
But now, for the first time in yeaes, the patron gods returned.
One by one, they arrived.
First came Thanatos, cloaked in shadow, quiet and grim.
He said nothing, merely walked to his seat with the air of judgment itself. Cold mist clung to his cloak.
He crossed his arms and closed his eyes, breathing steadily.
Then came Hypnos, floating lazily into the hall, yawning, his eyelids heavy even now.
"Do we really need all twelve for this?" he muttered, plopping into his chair like a tired cloud.
Keres entered next, blood still drying on her hands, her grin sharp as her nails.
"You better have a damn good reason, candle-witch," she spat at Hecate, her crimson eyes already gleaming with violence. "I was in the middle of pulling out a Titan’s spine."
"Scary~" Hypnos muttered.
Keres glared at him, and he quickly shut his mouth.
Almost immediately, Eris appeared beside Keres, her hair wild, laughter still lingering on her lips. "I was watching my newest play unfold... It was going so well. Then—poof—your little summons ruins it. You owe me, Hecate."
Hecate didn’t flinch. She didn’t respond. Her cold eyes remained fixed on the head of the table, waiting.
"You bitch!" Eris spat out, her aura flared up, causing the room to shudder. "Don’t ignore me, you candle sniffer!"
"Eris!" Thanatos called out, "Sit down."
Eris furrowed her brows as she glared at Thanatos, "You’re no boss of mine. How dare you order me like I’m beneath you."
Thanatos opened his eyes, and just like that, the room darkened as an oppressive force engulfed the room.
The others remained unaffected, but Eris alone took the full brunt of this power, forcing to stumble and almost kneeled down.
"You...!" Eris gritted her teeth.
She wanted to fight back, but Thanatos strength was too much for her.
In the end, she can only compromise. "Fine... I apologize."
With that, the pressure instantly vanish. Eris took a deep breath as she stood up straight and glared at Thanatos.
Without saying any more words, she sat down on her seat, grumbling.
A few moments of silence englufed the room, before Aphrodite glided in like moonlight on water, her gown shimmering.
She didn’t speak, but she gave Hecate a narrowed glance, clearly disapproving of her ’audacity’ to call for this meeting without Lord Hades’ orders.
Then the Five River Gods came as a group—Acheron, Lethe, Phlegethon, Cocytus, and Styx—the embodiments of grief, forgetfulness, fire, wailing, and oaths.
Their presence darkened the hall, the floor briefly warping under the weight of ancient emotion.
And finally, Hera herself entered—graceful, tall, and regal, her posture echoing Olympus, but her eyes hardened by Underworld fire.
Campe, the monstrous mount of Hades, walked in silence beside Hera, chains coiled like snakes around her arms.
She took no seat but stood behind Hera like a sentinel.
Hecate stood at the head, motionless, like a statue of night.
When all twelve seats were filled, the air grew tense. The weight of their divinity pressed down like a mountain.
Thanatos was the first to speak. His voice cut through the room like a scythe.
"You summoned us, Hecate. Speak. Or have you finally grown so arrogant as to believe yourself our ruler in Lord Hades’ absence?"
Hecate opened her mouth to reply, but Hera stepped forward, her voice calm yet firm.
"It was I who called for this meeting."
The room went utterly still.
Keres leapt up, her blood-stained hands clawing at the air.
"YOU?!" she bellowed. "How dare you act like Queen of this realm? Do you really believe yourself to be Lord Hades’ wife!?"
Eris followed, smirking and hissing, "Goddess of marriage, Hera. Who gave you authority? You’re not Lord Hades. We follow him, not his wife prentender."
Phlegethon, fire boiling at the edges of his skin, roared, "Not even Hecate has this right, and she has bled for this land."
Cocytus, normally silent, wept sorrowful rivers, yet his voice came heavy with disdain: "The Lord is absent, and vultures already pick his throne clean?"
Hera raised a hand, calm as glass.
The hall shook—not from magic, but from the authority in her voice.
"I do not claim rule," Hera said, meeting each of their gazes. "But I do care. This realm is crumbling. The dead flood in from every war, every plague, every divine punishment. But the river guides are exhausted. The courts are overburdened. Reincarnations are delayed. And the balance is failing."
"Isn’t it because of those Olympians?" Acheron growled, "Those fools mess around the mortal world too much."
Hera’s eyes narrowed. "Yes, we can blame the Olympians all we want, but that wouldn’t change the fact that we are lacking in power. I’m sure you know this. Hades chose you for a reason, so you shouldn’t be dumb enough to not see this."
Hera continued. "I request—not command—that we promote capable divine spirits to lesser gods. They will manage the Outer and Inner sections, relieve your burdens, and restore order."
"Only Lord Hades can bestow that right," grumbled Styx, her voice like oath-bound steel.
Hecate finally spoke, her voice calm and firm. "Lord Hades left me as his voice. He trusted me to act when necessary. With your support, I can—"
"No," Thanatos cut her off. "He trusted you to protect, not to rebuild. There’s a big difference."
"Then tell me," Hera said, walking slowly to the center of the hall, "how many souls have drowned in your river, Phlegethon? How many forgotten spirits roam, Lethe? How many screams go unheard in Tartarus, Keres?"
Hera turned her back to them, looking toward the great black obsidian throne where Hades would one day return.
"If we do nothing," she whispered, "this realm will rot before Hades returns. Do you want him to come back to a ruin?"
Silence returned—but it was not one of defiance.
Hypnos was the first to speak. "...If it means I can sleep more... then fine. I’ll vote yes."
Thanatos clenched his fists. "...This goes against order. But... if it prevents greater imbalance..."
Styx nodded solemnly. "Then I agree... with limits. Only a few may rise. And only those worthy."
Aphrodite, arms crossed, rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Just don’t expect me to help train them."
Keres growled. "One mistake, and I will gut your new gods myself."
Eris smirked. "I can’t wait to see them fail. But fine. I’ll watch."
One by one, grudgingly, reluctantly, the gods nodded.
Hera exhaled deeply, though her face remained composed.
The Council of the Underworld had spoken, and soon, new gods would be born, and the whole Underworld would usher in massive reforms.
The patrons discussed the promotions for a few more hours before they all left to tend to their own domains.
Later, as the gods departed, Hecate remained behind.
She stared into the shadows, her thoughts already on the next step.
"May your return be swift, my king," she whispered.
Because even with this fragile alliance... the Underworld stood on the edge of breaking.
And the shadows were deepening.