Hi everyone! Sorry for the late update! The school quarter is coming to an end, and schoolwork as well as my nephew have taken up so much of my time. Either way, I'm happy to finally be posting!

As requested, this chapter is in Hades' pov!

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Hades

There is much to be said of divinity, of fathership.

Kronos was scarcely the latter, but his sovereignty breached the very chassis of Life and Fate. His mere will could demolish Gaea's creation, his influence the foundations of what his forebearer set to be generations afore.

And even so, he was impended by the existence of a babe not yet an hour in age. He was acquainted with the significance of a godhood's evolution, and it frightened the stain of Evil impressed upon him by the foretoken of a desperate tyrant-- one grappling for the only source of weight he could chance upon in his endwise moments.

Despite his best attempts, even the omniscient Time himself --with all his strength, might and ever presence-- was unable to inhibit the entwining of fathership and divinity. Ultimately, fatherhood was to yield to godship, and the gifts of his two eldest sons flourished within the unwelcome environment of his gut.

He did all within his power to impede our growth in the name of ownership over the heavens, and in his ignorance concluded both to be mutually exclusive. It was this misconception which led to his deposal, not newborn babes. For in truth, both are entwined. Fatherhood and godhood are one and the same.

Each is an equally painful process of learning, acquiring new experience and the awkward dealings of the development and progress which ripen the aptitude and efficacy of either. Had Kronos been free of blemishes, free of Evil's stain, perhaps he too would perceive this.

Perhaps, our woeful fates would have taken alternate course. For without exception, when the child of locks so raven even so as inclines his gaze to me, I know I am ill-equipped to deny him that which he may desire. And all which we share is a bond.

What then, would possess a supreme being to consume his very flesh and ichor? What foolishness must such a stain provoke in an immortal so preeminent, the Kosmos could not withstand him?

Indeed, the child causes me much anguish. I may be cognizant of the entwining fatherhood and divinity undergo, but Kronos is not. He was hesitant in demonstrating his eldest son --his lusty firstborn, the ripe harvest of his seed-- the mercy expected of an immortal whom himself had petitioned for Rhea to become with child. I have no incentive to know what he will do to the boy.

As though privy to my contemplation, the child in question shifts from his position before his chambers' hearth to gaze at me. His countenance is shaped by the excited roam of the blaze, his small form clothed in the shadows reminiscent of the realm's character. Here, the darkness is an entity, not the absence of the sun's kiss.

One is never completely desolate in Hades, the shadows are an ever faithful companion.

"Young man, Tartarus is scarcely a place for children."

The boy frowns, swiftly returning his attention to the flames in an attempt to hide the quiver of his lip.

I take note of it nevertheless.

"Daniel, you may choose to heed my warning or discard it."

Eyeing the child from my position by his door, I approach him.

"But feigning deafness will not aid you in accomplishing whatever your objective may be."

The boy swallows, shifting closer to the flames as if to shield himself from me, and it brings an unexpected strike to my breast, causing me a pain I am becoming well acquainted with. It seems he wishes to see me become the first immortal to falter.

Heaving a sigh, I lift an index to my brow bone, rubbing at the area in an attempt to soothe my agitation.

"I am not admonishing you, simply attempting to protect you from the extent of a danger you can not fathom."

Without hesitation, I receive a response. One which takes me aback.

"Why?"

I pause for a moment. What does he mean by why? Why am I so vexed? Why is there a present danger? Why am I so displeased of happening upon the image of Malevolence incarnate asphyxiating the one boy I hold so dear?

"What do you mean why? Young man! You will surely be the first to witness my torturous descent into madness if you continue to wander about in solitude! You test the realm every opportunity you are so provided with! I've not let you out my sight for an instant before you are embroiled within chaos' cloak!"

The boy makes no attempt to hide his countenance from me, allowing me to see his quivering lips and eyes glossing in a tide of tears.

"I already said I was sorry!"

His voice is thin and wavering, high pitched and uncertain. I know he is afraid, and I know he is apologetic, but it is insufficient in deterring me. His query has prompted forth the anxiousness and heightened aggravation which has haunted me since heat forsook my breastbone.

"What must I do to stop you? To what lengths must I travel for you to understand that the underworld is not equipped for curiosity? This realm executes a function I seldom can control, it is alive and therefore an environment suited for peril, vulnerability, and hazards a six year old child is not capable of bearing!"

At my reprimand, the boy recoils and enables a cry. Sobbing, he lifts a bruised arm before pointing an index at me.

"See!? I knew you were mad at me!"

His accusation halts me in my step. Reason warns me he is but a child, innocent in his interest for exploration and unaware of the uncertainty surrounding his exploits. But, despite my better judgment, he has incensed a fear in me I have not felt since the inception of Gaea's planet. The sensation of restlessness coupled with an alarm I can not bear have disturbed the very core of my breastbone in a manner which renders me paralyzed.

Kronos is a formidable enemy. An entire generation of elder gods was unable to contest him for many years well into their adulthood, aided by potent ability and centuries of knowledge and rigorous battle strategy. There is a token of this struggle which does not fade on my abdomen, and it has remained well embedded in my flesh as a reminder of it for hundreds upon hundreds of aeons.

The child can not begin to understand my anguish.

"Daniel, please. You must understand me."

I come to my knees, crawling as a beggar before the boy.

"Surely, you must."

He fails to respond as he is hiccuping and sobbing far too much to hear a word, but his cries are diminished as I reach for him, enveloping him within my warmth's embrace. Safe, at last.

Placing a palm atop his cheek, my thumb grazes the soft curvature of his jaw, drawing his countenance into my breastbone.

"Young man, I beg you. You must promise me to never again wander the grounds of the Underworld in my absence."

Relinquishing my enfold only to affirm he assures me so, I embrace him for several more moments as his complaints gradually ease into minor uptakes in exhales.

We remain in that attitude long enough for my own breaths to entwine in rhythm with his, and as my own apprehension eases into its usual measure of vexation, I release him, reluctantly providing him with distance.

Though I retreat, he remains unmovable-- fastened to the arcane dance of the flames before him. What brought on this fixation with fire? Is this fascination what guided him to foolishly seek out the shores of the Fields of Punishment?

Observing the boy in silence, much plagues me. An abundance of doubts and hesitations render me motionless. Inquiries surrounding what the elder Titan may know of the child will certainly hinder slumber from encompassing me this night.

His words will surely remain impressed upon my reflection, the accusations which brand him a thief and appoint him the target of ancient ire will plunder my ease. I wish to pester him with all my questions, but I know he will refuse to cede me their answers. The boy himself may not be aware of them.

"Daniel. Of all places in my kingdom, Tartarus is the least safe. It is inhabited by the most wicked of people."

Remorseful, he brings a palm to his cheeks, drying his tears and attempting to prevent more from spilling. He sniffles once before crawling within my embrace once more, clutching a portion of my cloak as one would an anchor amidst a storm.

"I know. I just-- I just wanted--"

His lips quiver again, and the tip of his nose reddens a fraction as tears consume him.

"I thought maybe Sammy would be there again."

Samantha? She is in her chambers, is she not?

"Was she not in your chambers only moments before you left to wander about? If you yearn her company, she is not so far out reach."

"No."

"No? Young man, I am afraid I do not understand. Do you wish to see her or not?"

The boy's expression falls, leaving dread to nest itself within my throat as silence substitutes his response. He mentioned wishing to see her in Tartarus... again? From what she shared, her return from the domain was a journey she undertook alone. Is the child confused? Have the titans obstructed his abilities with false perception?

Have they taken her?

Was the breach of Time's imprisonment what summoned forth the heat from my breastbone, or had it been another source? Something far more frightful?

Angst stings my skin, as if palpably clawing me.

"Daniel. Have... have the titans taken Samantha?"

Suddenly overwhelmed by tears and indecipherable cries, the boy shakes his head.

"No, I did."