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. It wasn’t always easy.

The golden doors gave way beneath your shove, slamming against the walls with a hollow echo that rolled through Leviathan’s chamber. The space was vast, lined with mirrors that caught what little moonlight poured through the towering windows. Ornate furniture of gold and glass gleamed faintly, the room a reflection of his kingdom’s vanity, though at this hour it seemed less like luxury and more like a haunted hall of shadows.

You stormed inside, heat still burning in your chest from the endless tension he seemed to weave around you. The silence of the chamber pressed down, broken only by the faint rasp of his breathing beneath the heavy covers of his bed. Driven by emotion, you marched forward and tore the blankets away with one swift, angry pull. The action froze you.

Leviathan rose slowly, as though summoned from some deep slumber. His bare torso caught the silver light, and the moon revealed what the day never had: scars, countless and merciless, carved across his chest and back. They glowed faintly in the pale illumination, etched like stories written on skin, each one a testament to battles endured, sins survived, burdens carried.

For once, words abandoned you.

He sat at the edge of the bed, shoulders taut, but his eyes, usually cold, sharp, unyielding, met yours with something darker, heavier. He didn’t reach for the shirt at his side, didn’t try to hide himself. Instead, he let the silence stretch, his voice low when he finally spoke, the sound threaded with a rare, fragile honesty.

“The moonlight is cruel. It bares me as I am: a creature stitched together by battles and events no one knows of.” His gaze flicked toward the mirrors around the room, where fractured reflections of his scarred form stared back. Leviathan looked back at you then, the full weight of his vulnerability bared, as if daring you to turn away.