CHAPTER 120: CHILD OF THE UNDERWORLD

He slumped back against the mountain, breath hitching, each drag of air scraping his ribs raw. Shadows shifted around him. The Sins gathered, their eyes catching on his wreck of a body.

He forced his arm back into place with a sickening crack, jaw tight, but his gaze stayed steady. "Leave," he rasped. "No matter what happens to me... protect Liz." His voice dipped lower, cold but heavy. "In my absence, you are rulers of the Underworld."

One by one, they obeyed. Each melted into shadow, fading into the earth until only Pride remained.

Pride lingered. His sharp eyes burned, refusing to look away, refusing to abandon his master in such a state.

He met his stare, unflinching. For a moment, neither spoke. Then Pride lowered his head and stepped back, swallowed by darkness.

The mountain trembled again. Alone now, his shadow bled outward, curling tight around his boots. He steadied himself, eyes lifting back to the storm.

He tilted his head back, leaning against the wall, eyes closed. He could feel Thanatos’s presence—almost back in the Underworld. But Hypnos... his presence was nowhere near.

Then suddenly, the boy appeared in front of him.

"What are you doing here?" The words scraped out, barely more than a breath. His chest felt split, every sound a wound reopening.

"It’s my fault," Hypnos said, his voice unsteady. His hands clenched tight at his sides, eyes darting down, unable to meet his. "I came to help you. I’ll keep it busy while you run."

He let out a soft, broken laugh, the sound catching against his throat. His lips pulled into something faint, more weary than amused. "You see..." He pushed himself up from the wall, body swaying, legs unsteady beneath him. "I’m not afraid of death."

His hand trembled as it reached out, tapping Hypnos on the forehead. Shadows surged instantly, curling around the boy and locking him in place.

"Tell your mother I repaid her debt... for keeping me safe." The last word barely made it out, thin, weighed down with what he couldn’t bring himself to say.

Hypnos’s eyes brimmed with tears. His lower lip trembled before the words broke out. "I’m sorry..."

His chest rose unevenly, but he managed a smile. Thin. Tired. A smile that carried no fear, just finality.

The ground exploded.

"I guess it’s time." He leaned against the mountain to steady himself as Typhon surfaced, the giant’s roar tearing through the air.

"Damn you, child—where are you? I will tear you to pieces!"

Through the smoke, he caught glimpses of that massive body rising, wings stirring storms, its breath alone carving hurricanes into the sky.

His hand closed around Shadowbane. He needed time, even a sliver, to regain strength.

He shut his eyes. "Mother... Father..."

Then they snapped open, burning with resolve.

"Please... watch over me."

"I’m here."

He staggered out from the mountain, Shadowbane dragging up with him, its tip wavering toward Typhon. His arm shook, not from fear, but from the weight pulling every muscle thin.

Envy stirred, curling at the edge of his mind. He turned it inward, whispering to himself that there was no fear, no pain. For a moment, it worked—his chest eased, the weight dulled. But then it slipped away, breaking like smoke through his fingers. He had created them. No Sin could bind its master.

The pain rushed back, sharper than before.

His lungs burned. Each breath came shallow, muscles on the edge of giving out. Still, he lifted his head. Shadows coiled at his feet, twitching, restless, waiting.

"I am the son of Hades."

At his words, a chain burst from the stone, wrapping tight around his right arm, coiling to his shoulder.

"I am ruler of the Underworld."

Another chain snapped upward, binding his left arm, its weight dragging but anchoring him to the ground.

"By blood, I command the dark."

A third chain lashed out, curling around his chest, crossing over his heart before digging deep into Shadowbane’s hilt. The blade pulsed, tethered now to the abyss.

"By shadow, I hold dominion."

More links spilled out, winding around his legs, locking him in place as though the Underworld itself refused to let him fall.

His body trembled under the weight, every word pulling strength he didn’t have. The chains dragged across the stone, clattering, binding, until they wrapped him whole—arms, chest, blade, and wings.

His head tilted back, eyes burning with faint purple light as his voice cracked but held steady.

"And even chained, I will not break."

Shadowbane flared, the chains tightening all at once, their weight no longer just a burden but a vow.

"Come, son of Hades."

Typhon’s voice thundered like a storm tearing the sky apart.

He shot forward, Shadowbane exploding with dark power, the blade trailing arcs of violet light. He swung down with all the weight he had left, the cut clean, sharp, splitting through smoke and scale—

But Typhon was smiling.

The monster’s legs uncoiled all at once, a storm of serpents snapping upward. Fangs bared, venom dripping in heavy streams, they struck together like a wall closing in.

He caught them midair, his blade braced. The clash rattled his arms, pain shooting down to his bones. Venom splattered past him, burning pits into the stone far below.

The weight drove harder. A hundred coils pressing down, forcing him out of the sky. His grip shook, arms screaming against the strain.

He couldn’t hold them down. The air vanished beneath him. His body crashed down, boots skidding before his back slammed against the ground.

The light dimmed. A shadow swallowed the sky—Typhon’s fist, massive as a mountain, already falling.

His hands shot out, shadows snapping around him in an instant. A dome of black energy burst to life, the barrier swallowing him just before the blow landed.

The fist slammed into it. The air boomed like thunder. Stone cracked, then split, the mountain floor shuddering under the weight. Typhon laughed, a jagged grin tearing across his monstrous face.

"Cheap trick."

The blows came again. And again. Each strike shook the ground deeper, the shadow barrier groaning under the pressure. The pit beneath them grew wider, deeper, collapsing layer after layer of stone. Inside, his body was tossed about with every impact, slamming against his own shield, ribs rattling, teeth clenched to keep from crying out.

The barrier held, but every strike felt like being hurled into the abyss. His blood roared in his ears, shadows tightening around him like chains trying to hold his body together.

And still, Typhon’s fists kept falling, relentless. Each strike hammered the barrier like the end of the world, shaking stone loose, splitting the ground wider. By the time the monster stopped, the shadow sphere lay buried at the bottom of a massive crater carved straight into the island. Smoke curled from the rim, molten cracks glowing. The ground still shook from the impact.

A low growl rumbled from Typhon’s chest. His claws curled around the sphere, massive fingers closing in like a cage. "If you don’t come out," his voice boomed, dripping venom, "I will break it."

Pressure built, the sphere groaning as the Titan’s grip tightened. The shadows trembled, bending inward, their surface warping under the crushing weight.

His eyes snapped open in the darkness. He spat blood, the sound of poison dripping against the dome closing in on him. Panic clawed at his chest. Then his shadows stirred. From within, spikes burst outward, jagged spears tearing through Typhon’s palm.

The beast recoiled, a roar ripping from its throat. Black ichor spilled down its wrist, thick against the scales. The force of it rattled the false world itself, rivers surging as if pulled by the sound.

But the anger came fast. His cry warped into a roar, rough and shaking the air, as he lifted the sphere high. "Child!"

Then, with all his might, he slammed it down.

The ground convulsed. Stone shattered for miles, the shockwave rolling out like a quake meant to split the earth itself. The false Underworld howled under the impact, and even the sky above quivered, cracks of light bleeding through the painted gray.

He lay there, shadows torn away, chest heaving shallow. His lips parted. "I... can’t move."

Typhon loomed above, a mountain of scale and flame. His form swelled, growing larger still, wings blotting out what little sky remained. A snarl twisted across his central face as he reached down and closed a hand around him.

The Titan’s grip wrapped him whole, his body vanishing inside the massive fist.

"I never liked your father," Typhon growled, voice shaking the earth itself. "He was the one who chained me for ages. And now—" His claws dug tighter. "—I get to kill his favorite son."

The hand squeezed.

A sharp crack echoed. His ribs shattered. His scream ripped free, raw and agonized, carrying so deep it reached the Underworld itself. His head rolled back, vision flickering, but Typhon wasn’t done.

Another squeeze. Another sickening crack.

His body convulsed, blood running down his lips as his voice tore ragged from his throat. "Mother... Father!"

The ground split under Typhon’s feet, trembling hard enough to feel like the whole island was coming apart. Roots tore through the cracks—huge, knotted things that coiled tight around his legs and arms.

The dead rose.

Every monster that had ever perished on the island clawed its way back into the false world. Rotting beasts, broken soldiers, even sons of Hades long lost—all dragged themselves up with hollow eyes, their voices howling as they swarmed.

Shadows spilled again, not his own but theirs, converging, binding into thick cords that lashed across Typhon’s body. Undead hands clung to his wings, his arms, his serpents, dragging him down with relentless weight.

The Titan bellowed, his grip faltering.

He slipped free, falling limp from the giant’s hand. His eyes fluttered, the world fading in and out, until something caught him before the ground could.

He tilted his head weakly. A blurred figure, half-seen through the haze. His lips curved faintly as the words tumbled out.

"Hey, Father... am I dead?"

Then darkness claimed him, and his eyes closed.