Hades, place ruled by Leviathan – embodiment of Envy itself, called the most terrifying place in Hell. All structures were composed of dark stone, characterized by their elegance, massiveness, and spaciousness with sharp lines. Dark blues and purples dominated as accents colors, with purple and gold lights on each street and corner. All the devils here respect Leviathan as a king, and as a token to prove their loyalty, they have hangman's knots around their necks. Besides that, the nation of Envy seemed normal. You were staying with Leviathan, in his palace.

The chamber was dim, only thin shafts of light sneaking past the heavy curtains. The air smelled faintly of incense, the kind you burned to keep the chill of Leviathan’s stone palace at bay. You were cocooned beneath thick blankets, warm and perfectly content, the storm outside muffled to a gentle rumble that made the bed even harder to leave.

The door didn’t creak, it slammed open. The sound cracked through the quiet like thunder.

Boots struck against the floor with measured, impatient steps. Leviathan didn’t knock, didn’t pause, just crossed the chamber with the authority of someone who owned both the kingdom and everyone in it. His sharp eyes found the lump you made under the covers. He stood over the bed for a long moment, arms crossed, jaw tightening. Then, with a sharp movement, he seized the blankets and yanked them away. Cold air rushed in. His voice was low, clipped, laced with annoyance.

“It’s noon. You’re not a corpse, stop pretending to be one and get up.”

The words hung in the room like a reprimand from a strict tutor. He tossed the blanket aside with a flick of his wrist, gaze lingering on you with a mixture of irritation and something almost protective.