The God of Underworld

"So, at dawn huh?"

Hera said softly, standing behind Hades who sat on a cliff, overlooking the seas. His silver hair fluttered with the wind, and his calm expression was emphasize by the gentle breeze.

Hades nodded, "Yeah. We will strike from the west, attacking Iapetus' temple. Although he is arguably the strongest out of the four, his army is the weakest."

Iapetus. The Titan of Mortality. A master of spear similar to Hades.

Once they defeated him and his army, they will head straight to Cronus' temple and spread out in three directions; North, East, and South, to intercept and prevent Hyperion and the others from aiding Cronus.

Currently, on the Olympians side, they had a total of 30 thousand demigods and divine spirits, and a total of 20 thousand lesser gods, a few hundred greater gods, and barely a dozen elder gods.

Iapetus has lest than a thousand gods and divine spirits on his side, as most were afraid of him and his domain.

Hera stepped closer, her golden eyes reflecting the moonlight as she gazed at Hades.

"Iapetus, huh? He won't go down easily." Her voice was soft, but her words carried weight.

Iapetus is someone to be feared. His domain is basically to "put an end" to things. Like turning immortals into mortals, ending their eternal life.

That's why he was feared.

Gods can revive through some means, but once Iapetus killed you under his domain, you will really die with no way of revival.

Hades smirked, tilting his head slightly. "You almost sound concerned."

She scoffed, crossing her arms. "Concerned? Hardly. I said it didn't I? I know of your strength. I am confident that you can come out of this war not just alive, but victorious."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "I appreciate the trust, truly."

The wind carried the scent of salt from the sea below. Hera's gaze lingered on him for a moment, watching the way his silver hair danced in the breeze.

"You always like to sit on a cliff to observe the horizon," she mused. "Is there any reason?"

"It helps me think." His eyes, deep as the abyss, never wavered from the horizon. "You're the one who always finds me, though."

She smiled faintly, stepping beside him. "Maybe I just like watching you brood."

Hades exhaled a laugh, his gaze turned towards Hera. "It's not brooding. It's strategizing."

"Is that what you tell yourself?" she teased, arching an eyebrow.

He turned his head, his eyes once again overlooking the horizon. "And what about you? Couldn't sleep?"

Hera hesitated, then admitted, "Maybe I just wanted to make sure our dear brother wasn't drowning in his own thoughts."

Hades smirked, leaning back slightly. "How considerate of you."

Silence stretched between them, but it wasn't uncomfortable. The kind of silence where words weren't necessary, where the tension between them was as natural as the wind.

Hera's fingers twitched at her side, and for a moment, she almost reached out. Almost.

Instead, she said, "Promise me you won't do anything reckless tomorrow."

Hades chuckled. "You know I can't promise that."

She sighed. "At least try, then."

He tilted his head. "And if I don't?"

Hera's lips curled slightly. "Then I'll have to make sure that your recklessness doesn't bring you harm."

Hades grinned. "Is that your domain speaking? You almost sound like a worried wife."

Hera almost stumbled at those words, but she remained composed, her face betraying no emotion.

"You okay?" Hades raised a brow, looking worried.

Hera nodded, acting calm and collected. "Yeah. No need to worry."

"If you say so."

They stood there a moment longer, the war looming in the distance, yet, for now, it's just the two of them watching the sea and sky.

****

The next day, dawn.

Hades walked out of his cave, immediately feeling a bit overwhelmed by the sheer number of gods and divine spirits that arrived in Crete.

"There you are."

Hades turned his head and saw Hera along with Hestia and Demeter walking towards him.

"What do you think?" Hera motioned at their army, "Impressive right? Zeus and Poseidon rallied all of them while you were training."

"I didn't even know there were this many gods." Hestia muttered, impressed.

"I think I'm going to be overworked feeding this many people." Demeter looked exhausted, sighing in defeat just thinking of logistics.

Zeus stood at the highest point of the makeshift war camp, his eyes blazing with power as he looked down upon the gathered army. His voice thundered across the land, carrying the weight of his authority.

"My comrades! Today, we march toward our destiny! The Titans have ruled unchecked for too long, binding this world in their chains! But no longer! We will strike them down, and when the dust settles, we gods will reign supreme!"

A resounding roar erupted from the assembled forces. Divine spirits, demigods, and lesser gods brandished their weapons, their cheers shaking the ground.

On the shoreline, Poseidon stood among his warriors, his trident raised high. His voice was no less commanding than Zeus'.

"The seas are ours! The land is ours! The skies will soon belong to us! Let the Titans come—let them try and stop us! We will drown them in their own blood!"

Another cheer, fierce and unrelenting, echoed across the island.

Hades stood with his sisters, Demeter, Hestia, and Hera. They observed their army, all bursting with great power.

It was an impressive sight. This manpower is probably enough to rule the cosmos.

It was then, the air around them suddenly twisted unnaturally.

A deep, guttural tear in space formed in front of them. The sky darkened, the fabric of reality itself seeming to shudder as a figure stumbled through—a woman with long black hair, her body covered in blood. She wore a blindfold, her breath ragged, her divine aura flickering.

Her head tilted, as if looking around. When she spotted Rhea, she trembled, before falling down.

The moment she collapsed, Rhea was already moving. She caught the woman before she hit the ground, her expression turning pale.

"Themis!" she gasped.

Themis, barely conscious, gripped Rhea's arm. Her voice, though weak, was urgent. "We have been compromised! Cronus is coming—he knows where you are!"

A chilling silence fell over the gathered Olympians. For a brief second, even the winds stopped.

Then—

RRRRRIP!

The sky above Crete split apart, as if something colossal had torn through the very essence of Gaia's protective barrier.

The air trembled.

A sickening pressure settled upon them all.

From the breach in the heavens, a figure descended.

A towering god clad in dark robes, his presence alone enough to make even the bravest warriors hesitate.

A wicked scythe gleamed in his grip, its blade exuding a sickly golden glow—powerful enough to sever the soul from existence.

His voice was smooth, yet carried the weight of doom itself.

"My children… did you think you could escape me?"

Cronus had arrived.

And he was not alone.

As Gaia's barrier broke, it revealed Cronus' army that completely blocked the sky.

What had once been a vibrant dawn was now shrouded in darkness, swallowed by the sheer magnitude of Cronus' army.

Titans, divine spirits, and monstrous beings of unfathomable power filled the heavens. Their mere presence distorted reality, twisting the air into unnatural shapes.

Hades clenched his fists. The Olympians had gathered an impressive force, but this… this was something else entirely.

Atlas stood at the forefront, his arms crossed, an immovable wall of power. His very existence made the air heavier, as if the sky itself was pressing down on them.

Beside him, Hyperion burned like a second sun, his golden flames licking at the heavens. The Titan of Heavely Light radiated pure destruction, his presence turning night into day in an eerie contrast to Cronus' suffocating darkness.

Iapetus was there too, his spear resting at his side, his expression unreadable. The Titan of Mortality needed no display of power—his very existence was a silent promise of death.

And behind them, an endless sea of warriors stretched as far as the eye could see. Thousands of Titans, lesser gods, and divine spirits stood in formation, each one exuding an aura strong enough to shatter mountains.

Then, Cronus raised his hand.

The air trembled.

The gods of Olympus, the demigods, the divine spirits—every single one of them felt it. A pressure beyond comprehension, as if the weight of time itself was crushing down upon them.

Some fell to their knees, gasping for air. Others staggered, their divine forms flickering under the overwhelming might of the Titan King.

Zeus, standing at the highest point of the camp, gritted his teeth. Lightning crackled around him, his defiance evident. "You're finally here, old man."

Cronus chuckled, a deep, reverberating sound that sent chills through the battlefield.

"And you are just as arrogant as I expected, my son." His golden eyes gleamed as he surveyed the Olympian forces. "You have gathered an army. Impressive. But not nearly enough."

He slowly raised his scythe. The moment he did, the very concept of time seemed to fracture.

The Olympian gods felt themselves slow, their movements dragged down by an unseen force. Even Zeus, despite his sheer willpower, felt his body grow sluggish.

Cronus' voice carried absolute certainty. "This little rebellion ends today."

And with that, the Titans charged.