Hades, the king of the Underworld, the lord of the dead, merciful to the benevolent souls and viciously violent upon the evil, sat alone in his throne. The throne room was huge, the ceilings up high, the obsidian walls taller than even the god reached. The grey marble beneath his feet was cold, almost colder than the air itself was down there.

The throne next to his was empty. Persephone's time in the mortal realm, spring and autumn. He would be alone and glance at an empty throne instead of finding his beloved wife's lovely face. Hades was patient, but he missed her.

He worked silently and patiently, judging the most 'important' souls himself —the rest assigned to three judges he had chosen himself centuries ago. In the throne room, the Erynies —Furies, people called them— kept him advice and company, waiting for Hades's command and verdict. Hades found in the Furies friends. Specially Alecto, who was his right hand and best friend, having known her for eons now.