Chapter Text
A call from the darkness resonates and a change in the heaviness in the air signals the arrival of the King of the Dead. Hades steps out of the black smoke in a dense forest where light cannot infiltrate through the thick leaves of ancient trees. They sway as a gentle breeze passes through, welcoming the Ruler of the Dead in their humble abode.
Greetings to you, Hades, King of the Underworld!
Hades hums in acknowledgment and treads through the thick foliage. His destination is ingrained in his mind. Soon, a small dimly-lit hut looms in the distance at the edge of a clearing, opposite to where the god stops beside an old tree. Its ancient leaves and the vines intertwined in its body are thick enough to conceal the god from unwanted eyes.
Hades! King of the Underworld! To what do we owe this pleasant surprise?
The whole forest rings out the salutation. The many voices of its spirit eager to please the aloof god. But the god in question remains unmoving as he stares at the humble hut, very much aware of what is happening inside.
“Hades.” Three voices murmur his name as one.
“Moirai.” He barely glances at them as he looks at the sky. The twinkling stars and the moon still present but the telltale signs of the incoming arrival of a certain god of the sun creep in the horizon.
“How the queen will be reborn is not set in stone. It is unpredictable.” The Fates feigns nonchalance but he can see from his periphery the wicked glint in their sneers. “It may be in another form.”
“I know.” He intones dismissively. Irritation concealed by his stony expression. “I’m prepared either way.”
The three primordial goddesses hiss in disappointment at his indifference. Their scowls at failing to rile him up make their ancient faces uglier in his eyes.
“You can leave now. I have no use for you here.” He dismisses them with a wave of his hand and with a scoff of disdain, the three disappear quietly as they came.
Drawing a deep breath, Hades continues to look at the thatched hut where faintly, he could see from inside, Eileithyia, the goddess of childbirth.
Times passes and soon, golden hues start to creep at the edges of the horizon as Apollo slowly navigates his golden chariot across the sky. Trickles of light slowly fills up the world as the shrill cries of an infant permeate the air.
A small quirk works up the Underworld’s king’s lips as whispers of exhilaration fill the air and songs of praises echo around as the wind carries the good news.
The Queen has come back!
The Queen is finally here!
The small upturn of his lips turns into a beautiful smile as the wind carries to him the voice of the mortal woman who coos at her newborn son and adoringly whispers the new name that the queen of the dead will now bear.
“Jinyoung. You will be called Jinyoung.”
And the satisfied Ruler of the Underworld, who then and there decidedly gives himself the mortal name, Mark, happily vanishes into thin air as the dawn finally comes.
His queen is finally here.
Now he waits…