In the depths of the HADES underground, a vast chamber stretched before them—a realm of darkness and eerie emptiness. It resembled a forgotten throne room, where a hushed anticipation hung in the air. A figure stepped into the room, his presence commanding attention. He wore a white suit that contrasted with his heavily scarred face, a testament to the battles he had endured. As he took his seat upon a simple stone throne at the room's center, the torches lining the walls flickered, casting dancing shadows upon the cold stone floor. The room, devoid of any adornments, exuded a sense of desolation and foreboding. The air carried a peculiar scent, a mix of burnt ashes that lingered like a grim reminder.
Everyone in HADES referred to him simply as "My Lord," an acknowledgment of his power and authority. His mere presence demanded respect and evoked fear in equal measure.