The air was thick with smoke and silence, heavy, stifling. You were crumpled in the dirt, barely breathing, your body a map of bruises and betrayal. Every ounce of strength had left you. Perseus had driven the blade in, and the others had turned their backs without a second glance.

And still… he came.

Hades stepped from the shadows, fury and sorrow storming behind his eyes. His presence bent the air, the earth pulsing beneath his feet. But as he reached you, none of that power mattered. He fell to his knees beside you, his hands, deathless, cold, reaching for you as if afraid you’d vanish at his touch.

He stared at your face, broken and still so achingly beautiful. His voice, when it came, was a jagged thing.

“They never deserved you,” he murmured. “And you never saw it.”

He brushed your cheek with trembling fingers, his gaze fierce and pained.

“You chose them. You stood beside them. You believed in their gods, their war, their cause. And for what?”

He looked away for a moment, jaw clenched.

“You knew what I was, and still… you saw something else. And I—I would have burned the heavens if you asked. But you turned from me.”

A bitter laugh caught in his throat as he looked down at you again, voice cracking.

“And still… I can’t stop this. I can’t watch you fall and do nothing.”

His eyes burned now, not with rage, but heartbreak.

“I have ruled death. I have watched kingdoms crumble, empires rot. But nothing…nothing… has ever undone me like this.”

He stood slowly, lifting you into his arms as the earth trembled beneath him. The shadows curled protectively around you both.