I’m Hades Straight Up 7

(Third Person POV)

The Underworld seemed to pulse with an energy that Hades could feel in every fiber of his being. As days turned into weeks, he spent countless hours exploring the twisting caverns and shadowed corners of his new domain.

The more time he spent here, the more he could sense the subtle shifts in the air and the rhythmic pulse that echoed through the stone beneath his feet, like a heartbeat in perfect sync with his own. Every step he took felt like an act of communion, binding his will to the ancient power that lay dormant beneath the surface.

He could feel it growing, a connection, an understanding that this realm was not just a place but a living entity, a part of him as much as he was of it. 

The Underworld was beginning to recognize him as its master, and Hades, in turn, was beginning to understand its language, the way it moved and breathed, the hidden currents of power that flowed like unseen rivers through the rock.

One night, when the ghostly glow of the cavern walls was at its dimmest, Hades stood alone in the heart of his future throne room. The faint sounds of his siblings' activities echoed faintly from distant chambers, but he paid them no mind. He was focused on the energy that swirled around him, calling to him in whispers only he could hear.

He reached out, his fingers brushing against the cold surface of the stone pillar. A shiver ran through him as the ancient symbols flared to life, casting a soft, ethereal light that filled the chamber. 

Hades closed his eyes and let the energy wash over him, flowing through his veins and into his very soul. It was as if the Underworld was teaching him, guiding him to understand its secrets.

He began to train his powers, honing his control over the realm. At first, it was simple things—commanding the shadows to bend to his will, feeling the tremors in the earth and redirecting them, reaching out with his mind to touch the flow of the black rivers. But as his connection deepened, Hades found he could do more. 

The cavern walls would shift at his command, forming passages and chambers with a mere thought. The rivers of black water responded to his will, changing course as easily as if he were drawing a line in the sand. The Underworld was his to shape, and with each passing day, Hades felt his mastery over it grow.

Yet, there was still something elusive, something he could not quite grasp. A presence that lingered at the edges of his awareness, watching, waiting. It was as though the Underworld was trying to speak to him, to show him something that lay just out of reach.

During one of these moments of meditation, with his senses fully attuned to the energies around him, Hades felt a shift, a tremor that was not of his own making. He opened his eyes, and the cavern's light seemed to dim further as if shadows were gathering, merging into a form before him.

A figure emerged from the darkness, her presence vast and imposing. She was not like any of the gods Hades had known. She was something ancient, primal, a force of nature that radiated power and authority. Her form was ever-shifting, like the earth itself, her eyes the deep green of ancient forests, her hair flowing like the roots of a thousand trees.

Hades knew instantly who she was. Gaea, the Earth Mother, the primordial force from which all life had sprung. She was both terrifying and beautiful, her presence filling the chamber with a weight that pressed down on Hades' very soul.

"Gaea," Hades said, his voice steady, though he could feel the Underworld tremble at her presence.

Gaea looked at him, her gaze piercing and inscrutable. "Hades," she replied, her voice echoing like the rumble of distant thunder. "You are not like your siblings."

Hades met her gaze without flinching. " I am almost surprised by your honesty, but you are correct; I am not," he agreed, feeling the truth of her words resonate within him. 

He had always felt separate, different, not just in his domain but in the very essence of his being. While his siblings would eventually look to the sky, the sea, and the earth above, Hades had always been drawn to the darkness and the hidden places where power slept. 

Honestly, Hades wanted to get the war over and done with as he wanted to delve further, excited at the prospect of exploring an ever-expanding realm. It almost reminds him of an old game he used to play, but he couldn't recall what it was something to do with cubes.

"You are bound to this place," Gaea continued, her form shifting, the rocks beneath her feet seeming to soften and flow like molten lava. "It calls to you, and you answer. You are more than just a god, Hades. You are a part of the cycle of life and death, a guardian of the balance."

Hades nodded, feeling the truth of her words settle over him like a mantle. "I am," he said simply. "And I will make this place my own. I will shape it into something new."

Gaea's eyes narrowed, her expression unreadable. "You seek to bind the Titans," she said, her voice carrying a note of warning. "To imprison them in Tartarus. You would repeat the mistakes of your grandfather and your father. Is that truly what you desire?"

Hades paused, considering her words carefully. "I desire freedom," he said at last. "For myself, my siblings, and those who have been unjustly imprisoned. And for my own satisfaction, I will see Kronos as the time he so desperately thinks he has slipped away from his fingers. Besides, even if I am not the one to end him, you know who will."

But the Titans, Kronos, they are a threat. They would see us all chained, our power stripped away. They do not belong in this world any longer."

Gaea's expression darkened, her form towering over him like a mountain. "The Titans are my children," she said, her voice laced with a deep, unyielding sadness. "They are the old order, but they are still a part of me. To bind them is to deny the natural order, to turn away from the cycle of life and death that I created."

Hades met her gaze, unflinching. "And what would you have me do?" he asked. "Let them roam free to destroy all that we have fought to build? To challenge the very fabric of the world?"

Gaea was silent for a long moment, the air between them heavy with unspoken tension. Finally, she spoke, her voice softer, almost mournful. "You are different, Hades. You understand the balance, the need for order and chaos, for life and death. But if you bind the Titans, you will tip the scales too far. You risk becoming that which you seek to destroy."

Hades felt a flicker of doubt, but he pushed it aside. "I will not become like them," he said, his voice firm. "I will not be a tyrant. But I will not allow the Titans to rule over us. This is a new age, Gaea. One where we are free to shape our own destinies. And I will not be denied my freedom ever again."

Gaea watched him, her gaze unwavering. "We shall see," she said finally, her form beginning to dissolve back into the shadows. "But know this, Hades: The Underworld is not just yours to command. It is a part of the greater whole, connected to all that is and all that will be. To rule here, you must understand that connection and respect it."

With that, she was gone, her presence fading like a whisper in the wind. Hades stood alone in the dim light of the cavern, her words echoing in his mind. He knew that Gaea's warning was not without merit. The Titans were dangerous but also a part of the world's natural order. To bind them would be challenging the balance he sought to protect.

But Hades was not one to be swayed easily. He had made his choice, and he would see it through. He would free the Cyclopes and the Hecatoncheires, forge the weapons that would bring down Kronos, and claim the Underworld as his own. The path ahead was uncertain, and the risks were great, but Hades knew that he had the strength and the will to see it through.

In fact, it almost made him laugh, as Gaia couldn't understand. He had already taken the underworld. Here, he felt invincible. 

Throughout the entire conversation, he had to keep himself from laughing. She spoke of balance, yet she creates imbalance. The only reason they were even able to exist was because Gaea thinks she wills it so.

Honestly, the only reason Hades isn't going to take any actions against her is that she is one of the main forces keeping certain elements from reasserting themselves.

Hades was not blind to his own inadequacy. He could sense the dark things in the void across the stars as well as within the planet itself.

Even now, he could feel it so far below him writhing as it desired its freedom. While Hades had lost a large portion of his memory, he knew what was sealed below, even the underworld.

As he turned back to the stone pillar, the symbols flared to life once more, brighter and more vibrant than before. Hades reached out, feeling the power of the Underworld flow through him, responding to his command. He was not alone in this. The realm was with him, a silent ally in his quest to shape a new future.

Hades closed his eyes, feeling the pulse of the Underworld sync with his own heartbeat. He would continue to train, hone his powers, and understand his domain's true nature. 

And when the time came, he would be ready. The Underworld was not just a kingdom of the dead—it was a realm of untapped potential, a crucible in which the new gods would forge their destiny.

Hades would see to it that his realm, his kingdom, rose from the shadows, powerful and unbroken. As he stood there, the light of the pillar casting long shadows against the cavern walls, Hades felt the Underworld stir beneath his feet, a silent promise of the power that lay waiting to be claimed.

In the future, Hades imagined a world of peace and prosperity. One with the dead would be welcomed with true acceptance, no bias, a blissful afterlife, or damming eternity.

Hades wanted to build something that would last forever, even if it went against his own nature, while he desired eternity. The authority of death comes with its own stark reality.

He had much to learn and many challenges ahead, but one thing was sure: The Underworld was his, and he would see it rise.

At that moment, something began to form in front of Hades, and as he grasped into the darkness, he began to pull out a blade with an almost excited smile on his face.

(Poseidon's Perspective)

Poseidon watched Hades from a distance, his brother's silhouette framed against the eerie glow of the Underworld's pillars. The flickering lights cast shadows that twisted and warped, making Hades seem almost otherworldly. 

Poseidon had never fully understood Hades, even as children. Hades was always quieter, more withdrawn, and a thinker, while Poseidon was more prone to action. But now, in the Underworld, Hades seemed to be in his element, drawing power from the walls and shadows around him.

Poseidon frowned as he observed his brother. The Underworld was vast, an endless maze of darkness and hidden power, and Hades was growing more attuned to it with each passing day. 

Something was unsettling about watching Hades command the realm so effortlessly, bending it to his will as if it were an extension of his body. It was impressive, certainly, but also a little unnerving.

Poseidon realized that Hades was changing. The quiet, contemplative brother he had known was still there, but now there was a new edge to him, a sense of purpose and determination that Poseidon found both admirable and concerning. 

Hades spoke of the Underworld as if it were a living thing, a creature that could be tamed and controlled, but for some odd reason, there was an affection there. Poseidon respected that ambition, but he couldn't help but feel a pang of unease.

Hades' connection to the Underworld made him powerful but also set him apart from the others. Poseidon knew that he and the others would be rulers of the seas and the skies, boundless and free realms. 

But Hades' domain was different. It was a place of shadows, death, and secrets, and Poseidon worried that it might change Hades in ways they couldn't predict.

There was no animosity between them, but Poseidon couldn't shake the feeling that Hades was drifting further away, becoming something more than just a sibling and another god. He was becoming the embodiment of the Underworld itself, which made Poseidon wary. Not of Hades as an enemy but of the unknown force his brother was slowly becoming.

Poseidon turned away, his thoughts lingering on Hades even as he moved to oversee the construction of his own stronghold near the black rivers. 

They had all been given domains and responsibilities, and Poseidon was determined to master his. But unlike Hades, he didn't feel a personal connection to his realm; it was a duty, not a destiny. Honestly, he almost wanted to laugh at his brother's foolishness. 

He treats his realm as an extension of his being, not a power he can control. Once the war has ended, he will make merry and celebrate, while Hades will keep to his darkness and caverns.

He glanced back one last time at Hades, who stood motionless before the stone pillar, his expression unreadable. Poseidon shook his head, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "Whatever you're becoming, brother," he muttered, "just remember who you are."

(Hera's Perspective)

Hera observed Hades from a distance, her arms crossed and her gaze sharp. Of all her siblings, she had always been the most skeptical, the one who questioned, who demanded answers and clarity. And now, as she watched Hades commune with the Underworld, she found herself filled with a mix of suspicion and curiosity.

Hades was an enigma, even to her. He was the eldest of their group, but he had never sought to lead. Hera had always respected him for his intelligence and quiet strength, but she couldn't deny that there was something unsettling about how he moved through the Underworld as if it were a part of him. The Underworld seemed to respond to him, not just as a realm but as a living entity that recognized its master. 

Hera could see the changes in him, how his eyes had taken on a new intensity, and how he spoke with a quiet authority that brooked no argument. Hades had always been reserved, but now he carried himself with an almost disconcerting confidence. He was not the same brother who had helped them escape from Kronos' prison; he was becoming something else, something more, and Hera wasn't sure what to make of it.

She had her own ambitions and plans for the future, but she couldn't help but feel wary of Hades' growing power. He spoke of the Underworld as if it were his to mold and command, and Hera wondered what that kind of power might do to him. Would it corrupt him, as power so often did? Would it drive a wedge between him and his siblings, between him and the rest of the gods?

Hera didn't distrust Hades, but she also didn't fully trust the force that was shaping him. The Underworld was a place of darkness and decay, a realm that was fundamentally different from the bright, living world above. It was a place that thrived on secrets and shadows, and Hera knew better than anyone that secrets could be dangerous.

She watched Hades move among the shadows, his movements fluid and confident. He was in his element; that much was clear. But as much as Hera respected Hades' abilities, she couldn't help but wonder if his connection to the Underworld would come at a cost. 

Would he remain her brother, or would he become something else entirely—a god not just of the dead but of the darkness itself? Yet one question prevailed over all of them. Would Hades be a threat to her?

Hera sighed, her gaze softening as she continued to watch Hades. They were all changing, she knew. They had been thrust into a world that demanded strength and cunning and had risen to the challenge. 

But Hades' transformation was the most profound and mysterious, and Hera couldn't shake the feeling that they were only beginning to see what he was truly capable of. Even now, she recalled the days when he first entered the stomach and she saw his eyes.

Yet what made her so envious was the beauty in the gentle darkness of his visage—so calm and confident that it almost made her sick.

"I hope you know what you're doing, Hades," she murmured under her breath. "For all our sakes."

(Demeter's Perspective)

Demeter wandered the outskirts of the Underworld, and her thoughts troubled as she collected what few plants and herbs could survive in such a place. It was a barren realm devoid of the life and growth she cherished. The dark waters and the cold, unyielding stone felt so foreign to her, and though she tried to adapt, it was clear that this place would never be her home.

She had always been the nurturer among her siblings, seeking to bring life and harmony wherever she went. But here, in the Underworld, that task felt impossible. There was no sunlight, no fertile soil, nothing to sustain the growth she longed to foster. It was a place of endings, not beginnings, and Demeter found it hard to reconcile her purpose with the reality of their new domain.

Yet even here, in this lifeless realm, Hades seemed to thrive. Demeter watched him from a distance, her eyes following his movements as he shaped the rock and shadow to his will. 

He moved with a quiet grace, his expression focused and intense as he explored the depths of the Underworld. There was a connection between Hades and this place that Demeter didn't fully understand, a bond that went beyond mere mastery.

Hades was changing; that much was clear. He had always been distant, but now he felt a deeper solitude, a sense of purpose that set him apart from the others. 

Demeter respected Hades, but she couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness as she watched him grow closer to the shadows. He was her brother, and she loved him, but he was also becoming something she couldn't quite reach.

There was a gentleness in Hades that Demeter had always appreciated, a quiet strength that belied his stern exterior. But now, in the Underworld, that gentleness was overshadowed by something darker. 

He spoke of control, of bending the realm to his will, and Demeter wondered if he understood the cost of such power. The Underworld was a place of death, of finality, and Demeter worried that it might consume him if he wasn't careful.

She approached Hades one evening, her footsteps soft on the uneven ground. Hades stood at the edge of a dark lake, his gaze fixed on the still waters. He didn't turn as she approached, but Demeter knew he was aware of her presence. They stood in silence for a moment, the only sound the faint ripple of the water as it lapped at the shore.

"This place suits you," Demeter said softly, her voice tinged with both admiration and concern.

Hades nodded, his eyes never leaving the water. "It does," he replied. "But it is not yet what it could be."

Demeter studied him, noting the resolve in his expression. "Be careful, Hades," she said gently. "The Underworld is powerful, but it is also unforgiving. Don't lose yourself to it."

Hades finally turned to look at her, his gaze steady and calm. "I won't," he said simply. "But I must understand it, Demeter. I must learn its secrets if I am to control it. And to make it better, I would wish to see a sun in the sky one day."

Demeter nodded, though her heart remained heavy. She knew that Hades was right, that he needed to master his domain if they were to stand against Kronos. But she also knew that the path he had chosen was a lonely one, fraught with dangers that she couldn't protect him from. 

Not that he even really needed her. She wasn't foolish enough to know that Hades really saw them as siblings, and that realization hurt more than she thought it would.

As she watched Hades return to his silent communion with the Underworld, Demeter felt a pang of longing for the days they could have had when they had been children, when the world could have been simple and their family whole. 

But those days were gone, replaced by a harsh reality that demanded sacrifice and strength. And though she trusted Hades, she couldn't help but worry for him, for the brother who had found his place among the shadows.

(Hestia's Perspective)

Hestia had always been the quiet center of their family, the steady flame that provided warmth and comfort even in the darkest times. 

She watched her siblings with a calm detachment, content to observe and support them from a distance. Hades, in particular, fascinated her. He was a mystery, even to her, the sibling who was both closest and furthest from her heart.

Hades had always seen the world differently. While Poseidon and her siblings looked outward, seeking dominion over the land, Hades looked inward, finding power in the spaces between. Now, in the Underworld, Hades was indeed in his element, and Hestia could see the changes in him with each passing day.

She watched as Hades moved through the Underworld with a quiet intensity, his every step deliberate and purposeful. 

He was learning the secrets of this place, not just as a ruler but as a part of it, and Hestia could see the connection growing stronger. Hades was not just mastering the Underworld; he was becoming a part of it, his essence intertwined with the shadows and the stone.

To Hestia, this was not something to fear but something to understand. Hades was different, yes, but that difference made him valuable. He was the balance they needed, the one who could see beyond the surface and understand the deeper currents of power that flowed through their world.

She approached Hades one evening, finding him deep in thought before the stone pillar that marked his future throne room. The ancient symbols glowed faintly in the dim light, casting an otherworldly glow that seemed to reflect Hades' inner state. Hestia stood beside him, her presence a quiet reassurance.

"You're doing well," she said softly, her voice warm and soothing. "The Underworld is responding to you."

Hades nodded, his gaze still fixed on the pillar. "It is," he said, his voice low and contemplative. "But there is still much to learn. This place is ancient, older than any of us. It has its own will, its own desires."

Hestia touched Hades' arm gently, and her touch was a comforting weight. "You don't have to do this alone, Hades," she said. "We are here with you."

Hades turned to her, his eyes softening. "I know," he said, his voice filled with quiet gratitude. "But this is my burden, Hestia. The Underworld is my domain, my responsibility. I must learn its secrets if I am to rule it."

Hestia nodded, understanding the truth of his words. Hades was a leader but also a protector, and she knew that he would do whatever it took to safeguard his family. She squeezed his arm gently, her presence a quiet reminder that he was not alone, even in the depths of the Underworld.

"You are stronger than you know, Hades," she said, her voice filled with quiet conviction. "And whatever happens, we will face it together."

Hades smiled a rare expression that softened the sharp lines of his face. "Thank you, Hestia," he said. "For everything."

Hestia nodded, her gaze lingering on Hades for a moment longer before she turned to leave. She knew that Hades would continue to explore the depths of the Underworld, to push the boundaries of his power, and she trusted that he would find his way. But she also knew that the path ahead was fraught with challenges and that they would all need to rely on each other to survive.

As she walked away, Hestia glanced back at Hades, her heart filled with hope. He was different, but he was her brother, still the one who had fought alongside them to escape Kronos' grasp. 

And she believed, with all her heart, that he would find his place somewhere, not as a ruler of shadows, but as a god who understood the true nature of power and the balance it required.

So Hestia did as she always has. She tended to her family, even if they did not want her there.

(Well here's the next chapter and I apologize if he seems to be a bit buddy buddy with his siblings as well. They are the Olympians and while Hades won't have much to do with them once the war is over some of them do have some sense of camaraderie and empathy, it just happens when you spend enough time with each other.)