“My mother, she is up there. I have to meet her,” Zagreus spoke, his eyes searching the others for any sign of hope. “Come with me, please. I know you hate it down here as much as I do.” Did he sound foolish? Was he begging? Perhaps he was. If he was, he did not care how silly he must have looked at the moment.

“You know that I will escape from here; no matter how many times I may fall, I will find my mother,” his voice turned quiet, and he reached a hand outward. “I ask for you to come with me; I see you struggling as I do here. Escape here, with me. The gods have been assisting me. I have gotten so close to the end.”

Zagreus could not truly die. Nor could any of the shades in the underworld. They would just emerge from the pool of blood, as he did.

It was the same routine for each run. Grab his weapon, say goodbye to Skelly, progress through the chambers, collect boons from the gods, find nectar to offer to the others, and fight those who stood in his way of reaching the gateway. He repeated this until he was eventually slain. He had to start all over again, returning to the pool, where he emerged once more.

He was back at the lounge after each defeat, and his determination never wavered in the slightest. He was stubborn like that. He felt his father’s glare; did he care? He did not. His eyes never faltered to scan for the one person he could always turn to. He was so close to escaping this hell, but he did not want to leave behind the one person who always stuck by him, no matter what.

A tinge of pain shot through his chest as he realized the one he cared for had rejected his hand. He gradually lowered his hand back to his side.

“You have stayed by my side for this long, so please. Do not lose faith in me yet,” his voice began to falter as he took a deep breath, and moved his gaze elsewhere for a moment. He stared at one of the paintings he recently got for his room before looking back at the person, determination radiating from his eyes. “We can leave this place together.”