17 17: Not so weak after all
Metis had won, once again.
…Or had she?
A supposedly unconscious Hades opened his eyes. Their pale blue tone shimmered like stars during the night. The color was so overwhelming that even the world itself seemed to be dominated.
A grin crept across his face. The corners of his lips rose as if he were Ouranos himself. While his white teeth glistened with the sapphire array of his eyes.
'This is so much fun~'
***
Hades' pale blue eyes sheened with such a radiating intensity that in front of them, it seemed like the world itself was but muffled darkness. Above in the sky, ominous clouds teetered, unable to contain the burden of the purifying light emitted from beyond the mountain range.
A gilded liquid slowly trickled down from his forehead, starching the white suit he wore. The droplets' divine hue was a stark contrast to the sapphire luminance of Hades' eyes. No longer was it the ever-calm Hades.
There was something so dreadful veiled behind those shimmering orbs.
The ravaged landscape only accentuated that feeling. Hades stood unfazed surrounded by a myriad of ice spears jutting from the crackled earth's surface. Craters, meters deep, hid in between the frost weapons as if traps. Young roots of ichor ebbed trying to find refuge in this doomed terrain.
It was a scene steeped in grimness, a world demolished by the apathetic gods.
Yet, in front of the foreboding terrane, Hades' lips curled upward. So high up it tried to devour the sky itself. It was a smile that would send shivers down the spine of anyone who beheld it—if they were normal that is. One could feel its intensity by just glancing at it. The Frosthjartas2 would call it Hel's smirk,5 the Shintos 1would describe it as Izanami's grin, while Saharaterras 3would fear it as Seth's smile.
As Metis gazed upon him, a shadowy veil enveloped Hades' face. The darkness seemed to protect him from the consequences of his actions as if anonymity was the way to overcome guilt and laws. A mask that hid his malevolence.
And behind this facade, his true self smirked with an uncaring gaze.
The shadow under his feet spread beyond its original reach. Their deep tone was so profound it seemed capable of swallowing the world itself whole. What was once a verdant scenery was now under despair because of the coming of another season, one of voidness.
After the wounds came death's reign.
From the welkin where a saline rain descended from just a few moments ago, golden motes now swayed with the gnawing air. They added a welcomed touch of vivid colors in this ever-encroaching.
It was reminiscent of a tale once told in the empire the gods lived in. Every ten years, a wealthy night covered the sky. A time when the rich showed off their treasures in exhilaration while the working class could only drool at their belonging with envy and greed.
Yet here he was not only both the jealous commoners and the ostentatious nobles but also the mocking night, smiling in delight at the ant-like mortals and their weakness.
Beneath his feet, multiple cracks swelled while a hint of magma showed its luminescence in the minuscule crevices. His rhythmic breath manifested in a bluish color, slowly morphing into a fridging cloud mirroring the sky in the above.
His pale blue eyes transfixed Metis as if she were the only being in the world. The surroundings faded into oblivion. His siblings' conscious-less forms ceased to exist for his mind as if nothing ever happened. To him, it was the beginning of times, when past actions were but an unrealistic dream.
No stray thoughts roamed, marring his mind.
Nothing else mattered, save for Metis.
Surprisingly, she responded to his gaze with a sly smile. Not out of delight at being the only thing in his eyes, but because she understood the rarity of the experience he was undergoing. It was something few beings ever encountered—or at least to such intensity.
She had experienced it only once or twice.
It was a moment when time mattered not, fear was a forgotten concept, and sheer enjoyment made one's heart beat. This was the instant when effort became effortless.
The flow state. 4
Hades abruptly interrupted her observations, extending his hand forward to beckon an inverted rain of darkness, plummeting on Metis. Yet on its way, the corrupting darkness found nothing to corrode for everything there was, was darkness.
Metis equally raised her hands, and for the first time in the day, magic threads could be seen following her hands. Signs akin to an arcane language weaved a magic more powerful than ever. As her finger dance came to an end with two fingers raised in the darkness, light erupted.
A tidal wave of light tore the darkness asunder. Shadows healed only for light to echo throughout the domain, repeating its tearing actions. Thus began an ever-repeating melody.
Darkness extended its reach on the world, while light surged akin to the sun purifying the vast field and announcing the coming of a new season.
The darkness, in defiance, morphed into a viscous substance which clung to the earth as if it were a parasite.
Then, from its depths, skeletal figures appeared. Grim structures arose, building themselves as if anchors to a foreboding future. Tombstones emerged, forcefully etching themselves on the earth as if guided by vengeful hands. They bore the names of long-deceased mortals whose wrath perturbed their eternal slumber.
This wrath at their betrayals morphed into a weapon of destruction, gnawing on the gentle light akin to starved dogs.
Skeletons clawed their way back from the infernal Underworld, driven mad by their unwelcome return. They who still denied their deaths, sought to avoid the inevitable. Their ghastly hands grasped Metis, eyes aflame from the will to live.
The nightmare was far from over.
Swords, glistening from their otherworldly cleanness, arose from the pungent ground. The blades were long and regal showing off an expected hubris. Yet this was nothing compared to the handles, symbols of originality.
Golden waves swayed in a hypnotizing manner, making forging such a sword a veritable miracle. Jewels adorned the glittering handles, reflecting the light with a myriad of color spectrum, all beyond normalness. On the end of the handles, an intricate crown prompted the light to kneel.
Those decorations brought the swords nothing but weight and regality. Only a master would be able to make efficient use of such swords.
Yet that did not matter.
Opulence was a symbol above mere disadvantages. Only those deserving of it could show off their nearly boundless wealth. No ruler would choose simplicity over demonstrating their belongings.
The previously frail skeletons now moved akin to deceased kings.
Hades was the god of riches, opulence was expected from such a being. His weapons should show off such characteristics too.
Metis smirked at the attack feeling a control power nearing hers. This fight was bound to become interesting. She rushed at him, deciding against testing how many minions Hades could summon.
Punches were thrown, kicks dodged while weapons collided creating buzzing glints of fire. Hades' instinct went against Metis' intellect, demonstrating to Rhea a fight she had not expected.
It was such a moment of happiness for Hades that such fights where he could go all out became his passion. His all-devouring greed was now not only searching for the hidden mysteries of the Cosmos but also power.
A power which would make him able to fight those phantasmagorical beings that stand at the top of everything.
***
Do you guys also have those exam like three weeks after the start of the year about everything you learned last year and previously? Anyway now that those exams are over hopefully I'll be able to write more. Am really sorry!
Ignoring the upload frequency, do you guys still like the story?
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