Tap-tap—
tap.
At the border between Tartarus and the Underworld, a subtle fluctuation slightly spread.
Bounding laws enveloped the area, ejecting a dark shadow from the void.
In an instant, a slight tremor spread throughout the Underworld, and the master of the Fields of Truth seemed to notice the change here.
But when Hades looked down, all he saw was the somewhat agitated edge of the Abyss.
It seemed spontaneous, yet possibly manipulated; Hades couldn't make a judgment.
Yet thinking of the recent disturbances, he inevitably connected the two events.
"Underworld."
"Truly a season of many troubles…"
The voice was as deep as ever, 'a season of many troubles,' had implied meanings as well as its literal interpretation.
Because it was indeed autumn in the Mortal Realm, and troubles had never been scarce for him. So at Hades's side, Persephone was fiddling with the pomegranate she had planted, rather than staying atop Mount Olympus.