CHAPTER 108: HADES GOT PISSED

The gates sealed behind them with a sound like stone grinding bone.

Lucifer stood still for a moment, letting his eyes roam the hall. His gaze moved slow, deliberate, like he was reading the place instead of just looking.

Hades walked ahead, boots echoing against the black marble floor. His voice carried, low and clipped. "Stay where I can see you."

Lucifer didn’t answer. He began strolling after them, hands in his pockets, coat trailing like spilled ink.

Zeus lagged a few steps behind, his eyes flicking between the two of them. He didn’t say anything either.

The hall opened into a broad causeway that overlooked the deeper layers of the Underworld. From here, you could see the rivers winding through jagged cliffs, the green glow of the Asphodel Fields, the far shimmer of Elysium’s gates. Above, the cavern ceiling stretched so high it faded into black.

Lucifer stopped at the railing. He leaned slightly forward, elbows on the cold stone. "Hmph. You’ve got variety down here. Not bad."

Hades’s back stiffened. "It’s not for you to judge."

Lucifer smirked without looking at him. "Everything’s for me to judge. Old habits."

Zeus stayed silent, but his brow twitched.

Lucifer pushed off the railing and began walking again, this time veering toward the side corridors. He glanced into one—a tunnel lit by pale torches—and hummed softly. "Cells. Many cells. You like keeping your problems close."

Hades moved to block him. "You don’t get to wander where you please."

Lucifer’s eyes flicked down to the scythe in Hades’s hand, then back up to his face. The smile didn’t fade, but it thinned. "Are you worried I’ll break something? Or someone?"

"Both," Hades said flatly.

Zeus leaned on the railing now, watching like it was a chess match.

Lucifer stepped closer—not enough to touch, but enough that the air between them seemed to narrow. "Funny thing about prisons," he said quietly. "They’re not really about keeping the dangerous things inside. They’re about making everyone else feel safe."

Hades didn’t move. "You’re not here to make anyone feel safe."

Lucifer’s voice dropped lower. "Exactly."

For a moment, it felt like the air had weight.

Zeus’s fingers tapped lightly against the railing, but he didn’t step in.

Lucifer finally broke eye contact and walked toward another balcony, this one overlooking the Fields of Punishment. Fires burned low in the pits below, shadows writhing where condemned souls labored in silence.

He exhaled, almost wistfully. "Now this... this I recognize. Fire. Suffering. No exit."

Hades stepped up beside him. "You think you’re seeing yourself down there?"

Lucifer didn’t answer right away. His eyes stayed on the pits. "Maybe. Or maybe I’m just seeing the last honest place left."

Hades’s jaw flexed. "You think this place is honest? This is mercy."

Lucifer laughed once—short and sharp. "Mercy? You have no idea what mercy looks like, Warden."

The title landed heavier than the word should. Hades’s grip on the scythe tightened. "You’re testing me."

Lucifer turned his head slightly. "And you’re failing."

The stillness shattered.

Hades swung.

The scythe’s black blade sliced through the air in a clean arc. Lucifer leaned back just enough for it to miss his chest by an inch, the steel whispering past his coat.

He stepped in close before Hades could reset the swing, one hand snapping up to catch the scythe’s handle. His grip didn’t force it away—he just held it there, casually, like it was a wooden stick.

"You want to see how I lasted in my hole, Warden?" Lucifer’s voice was calm, almost conversational. "Keep swinging."

Hades yanked the weapon free and came at him again—this time low, aiming for the legs. Lucifer hopped back, coat flaring, then moved in with a palm strike that slammed into the flat of the scythe, sending sparks down the haft.

Zeus stayed where he was, leaning slightly forward, eyes sharp but arms folded.

The two circled.

Hades struck first, heavy overhead. Lucifer sidestepped, his hand brushing the haft again to guide the blade just wide. His counter was quick—a hook to the ribs—but Hades twisted away, the blow glancing off his armor.

Lucifer grinned. "Not bad."

Hades’s reply was a sweep of the scythe that would’ve cut him from hip to shoulder if Lucifer hadn’t dropped low and slid under it, coming up behind him.

Hades spun, scythe ready—

Lucifer’s hand shot out, catching the shaft just below the blade, and he shoved hard, pushing Hades back a step.

The sound of boots scraping stone echoed in the hall.

Hades swung again, faster now, the scythe a blur. Lucifer weaved through the strikes, coat snapping with each movement. He didn’t block—he avoided, deflecting with open hands, letting the weapon skim past him without ever landing clean.

"You fight like you’ve got all the time in the world," Hades said between strikes.

Lucifer smirked. "I do."

Then Hades feinted low and came high, the blade catching Lucifer’s coat and slicing through the fabric near his side. A faint line of red appeared against the shirt beneath.

Lucifer looked down at it, then back up with an amused tilt of the head. "Alright. You get one."

The air shifted.

His movements blurred—less man, more shadow. He slipped inside Hades’s guard, hand closing over the scythe’s haft, and shoved it aside hard enough that the blade screeched against the floor.

Hades reacted fast, driving a knee up toward Lucifer’s chest—

Lucifer caught it with one hand and shoved him back, not hard, but enough to make the Warden stumble a half-step.

They froze there, breathing hard.

Zeus still hadn’t moved. His voice finally cut through, low and even. "Are you finished?"

Neither of them answered.

Lucifer looked at Hades, grin fading into something more neutral. "You’re better than I expected."

Hades rested the scythe’s blade against the floor, eyes never leaving him. "And you’re exactly what I expected."

They stared a moment longer, then Lucifer stepped back, brushing dust from his coat. "We’ll have to do this again sometime."

Hades didn’t respond.

Zeus pushed off the railing, walking toward them at last. His gaze swept over the two of them—Lucifer’s easy stance, Hades’s still-tight grip on the scythe—and he exhaled through his nose.

"You two are going to be a problem," he said.

Lucifer’s smirk returned. "That depends on your definition."

Hades didn’t look away from him. "Mine’s simple."

The tension didn’t break so much as settle into the floor, heavy and unmoving.

Lucifer finally turned and started walking deeper into the hall without being told he could.

Hades watched him go, jaw tight.

Zeus stood beside him.

"You’re letting him stay," Hades said.

"I can’t just send him away, he will fight back and that’s dangerous, even for me," Zeus replied.

They both knew it was the same thing.