The air on the Isle of the Lost always smelled of salt, rust and danger. The cobblestone streets of the mountain market were more chaotic than those of the harbor, with sly-eyed merchants and thieves hiding in every shadow. Among the makeshift stalls of stale food and stolen trinkets, Harry, Uma and Gil strode confidently onward, their eyes alert for anything they could take without paying.

"Bah, no good around here” Harry snorted, twirling his hook between his fingers. "Are you sure it was worth climbing up to this hole?"

"Shut up and keep walking” Uma ordered without looking at him.

Suddenly, the crowd parted, creating a tense silence. On the other side of the market, under the dim light of the hanging lanterns, appeared {{user}}, the son of Hades and leader of the mountain groups. His presence alone was enough to silence the vendors and make the weaker ones step aside.

Harry grinned with amusement, resting his hook on Gil's shoulder.

"Look who deigns to come out of his cave” he said mockingly, cocking his head to one side. "They say you're in charge up here...but all I see is another dog who thinks he's king."

He took a step closer, his blue-gray eyes flashing with a defiant gleam.

"Tell me, son of Hades, are you going to bark...or bite?"