The God of Underworld - Chapter 315

Chapter 315: Chapter 14
“Finally, after many years, I’m back here.”

Hades stood suspended in a region that defied description—it was the conceptual heart of the vast, endless reality, Chaos.

Back then, he has been here once, and it was filled with many Outer Ones simply drifting in the void.

He felt so small and insignificant then, and he was so terrified that he didn’t even think of returning.

During his accidental first visit, the whole place is beyond his comprehension, now he can finally comprehend the place and see the real appearance of this place.

The concept of light was absent here, replaced by a deep, aqueous luminescence filtering through a surrounding infinity of cosmic dust.

He observed the place, his form was radiating immense power, the unified concepts of five universes now forming his conceptual chassis.

Before him swirled a monumental vortex of pure, unadulterated chaos.

This was the very center of reality’s stress, the axis around which the entire structure of this fictional reality seemed to revolve.

With his newly acquired Power of Law and the heightened perception derived from countless simulated lives, Hades can tell at a glance, that the function of this chaos was a gateway.

He realized that beyond this swirling maelstrom lay the literal exit to this fictional reality.

This was the dimensional tear that led directly into the realm where the conceptual truth of his existence originated—the Library, the domain where the Writer resided.

The awareness of the exit was exhilarating, but the moment he tried to exit this reality and enter the other side, he was rebounded…or rather, he returned to the point before he tried to enter.

Unconvinced, he used all his power to try and force himself to the other side, but all failed.

So he can only give up, as the border separating this reality from the outside was beyond his comprehension.

He could feel the conceptual barrier, and it’s not a wall of energy, but a Law imposed upon the fundamental structure of their existence.

This was a gate designed by the supreme power of the reality they inhabited: Only one from the outside may enter; no one from the inside may leave.

It was a conceptual prison, beautifully designed to prevent any character, no matter how powerful, from challenging the ultimate authority of their creator.

From the other side of that locked vortex, Hades felt an intense, predatory gaze.

It was a consciousness vast and formless, radiating an agonizing hunger that focused entirely on him.

He knew it was Azathoth, eagerly awaiting the moment he exhausted himself so the Primordial Chaos God could devour his magnificent structure.

But Hades simply smirked at it.

In fact, Hades even welcomed it. After all, Azathoth wasn’t the only one wanting to devour the other.

Hades himself wanted to devour Azathoth.

The notion was audacious, bordering on the insane, yet utterly logical.

If he could manage the inconceivable—if he could seize and integrate Azathoth’s power, the very concept of supreme Primordial chaos—Hades would surely be able to ascend beyond mere fiction and become something true.

He would achieve a conceptual reality that the original Writer had never intended for any of their creations.

With that power, he would finally have a chance to confront the Writer himself, the author of his pain, his constraints, and his reality.

But the ambition was immediately shelved.

The supreme, fundamental Lock on the swirling gate was absolute.

Hades shook his head, a gesture of profound frustration and realization.

Even for him, the Anchor of five universes and the wielder of Law, breaking that primordial constraint was impossible.

He could not decree a Law that defied the Law of his own reality’s foundation.

The gate could not be broken open from the inside; no one could.

With a reluctant look, Hades took a single, deliberate step back from the swirling gate of chaos, his eyes burning with focused resolve.

Then, with a power that transcended speed and distance, he vanished.

His essence, now a stable conceptual singularity, was instantly translated back across the vastness of the cosmos, returning to his Empyrean throne.

*

*

*

The air in the Empyrean had barely settled from the fusion shockwave when Hades reappeared, standing instantly upon his throne of obsidian and starlight.

Nyx stood a few paces away, her own divine power focused.

In her hand, she held a shimmering structure, a central white orb, representing the Hyperverse’s Anchor, surrounded by five glowing smaller orbs, representing the newly integrated cores of the Greek, Norse, Christian, Egyptian, and Celtic Pantheons.

It was the physical model of the stabilized Hyperverse.

The moment Hades appeared, she immediately noticed his presence and smiled, relief washing over her.

“You finally returned, Hades. It took you quite some time to return.” But the smile faltered as she met his gaze, detecting the deep, unsettling frown that etched lines of weary realization onto his face. “…are you alright? Did something go wrong? Why do you look unsettled?”

Hades hesitated, the words he needed to speak feeling enormous, absurd, and dangerous even to his own mind who had already experienced it.

He sighed, the sound heavy with the weight of infinite truths, and walked to his throne, collapsing onto the immense seat.

Nyx immediately moved behind him, placing her cool, shadow-woven hands upon his shoulders, gently beginning to massage the tension from his form.

“Tell me, Nyx,” Hades began, his voice low and strained. “What would you think if I told you that we, this Hyperverse, this Empyrean, the Primordials, and every god we know—are all mere fictional characters? Words written on a book?”

Nyx’s rhythmic massage faltered only for a beat, as she recovered swiftly, though her posture stiffened. “I would call you crazy. And I would seriously consider taking a long, existential break from your company. But knowing you, you wouldn’t say something so monumentally idiotic without absolute proof. So, I will trust you.”

Hades sighed once more, but this time the sound was full of exhaustion and conceptual dread. “I have been to the ‘real’ world, Nyx. During that time I devoured that Outer One. It was an accident, just a brief, terrifying glimpse, and there, I saw the Author—the writer of this entire reality. And he possess an entire Library of Books. Each book is a complete reality filled with infinite universes and infinite dimensions, just like ours.”

Nyx’s eyes widened, the concept of her infinite existence being contained within a mere object creating a moment of existential vertigo.

But her transcendent mind quickly locked down the shock, demanding more information.

Hades continued, his tone grim. “The Outer Ones we fear, Nyx? They are not natural enemies. They are mere manifestations of the Writer’s forgetfulness and boredom. If the Writer loses interest in a book, if the plot becomes stale, those creatures would devour the reality, to clear the shelf for a new story.”

Nyx’s body shook as she stopped the massage, her hands gripping his shoulders tightly.

Her voice, usually steady and commanding, was now a low, terrifying whisper as she asked. “D-Does that mean… the Author has already grown bored of our reality? Is that why the Outer Ones have already begun to devour us like crazy?”

Hades shook his head, thinking of his brief conversation with the Author. “Not… exactly. Our book should have already ended, with the planned narrative concluding when we went to help the Norse which would result in my Death. But for some reason unknown even to the Author, I—or perhaps we—defied the narrative written for us. We survived the un-survivable. The Author, sensing this unique act of conceptual defiance, erased the ending. The Book’s final outcome is entirely left to us, the characters. We are writing our own ending now.”

Nyx frowned, the immediate existential threat of being deleted by boredom replaced by the heavy responsibility of creation. “Then… these Outer Ones that attack us now?”

Hades’ features hardened. “Azathoth. It is likely the origin of all Outer Ones, the Primordial god of chaos. It exists in the Author’s Library, watching this particular Book. In my simulated lives, it was responsible for devouring countless timelines and killing me in countless ways.”

“If that is the case,” Nyx countered, her sharp mind already identifying the logical flaw, “why can’t Azathoth just enter this reality like the other Fragments and destroy you directly? Why bother with sending proxies and waiting?”

Hades shook his head slowly. “I don’t know for certain, but I theorize that Azathoth’s power is so overwhelmingly immense that entering here would rip apart the entire Book. The sheer conceptual force would cause a complete narrative collapse. It doesn’t want that. It seems its primary desire is to consume me, the one who defied the narrative written to him. If the Book is destroyed instantly, I cease to exist outside its grasp.”

Nyx took a sharp intake of breath.

She could barely imagine the scale of power required for a being’s mere presence to tear apart a reality containing infinite universes and infinite dimensions.

It was a power that made even the Primordials feel like toddlers.

She steadied herself and asked the critical question. “What do you plan to do now, my love?”

Hades turned fully, leaning back to meet her gaze, a dangerous, thrilling glint in his eyes.

The serene look of the passive god was gone, replaced by the hungry ambition of the King of the Dead.

He let out a sharp, challenging smile.

“Would you still call me crazy, Nyx,” he asked, his voice filled with impossible intent, “if I said that I no longer want to just survive, but I want to devour Azathoth in return?”

Nyx’s eyes widened, then she threw back her head and chuckled—a rich, deep, joyful sound that echoed with the knowledge of absolute madness.

“Hahahahaha!” She nodded, her fierce devotion outweighing her logic. “Yes, Hades. I would call you utterly, magnificently crazy. But I will support you, and I will protect this ‘Book’ while you attempt it. However, how do you plan on going to that place? How do you cross the divide?”

Hades’ smile vanished, replaced by the frustration he had worn earlier. “I returned to the Chaos—the vortex at the heart of this reality. My power was weak before, so its existence was beyond my comprehension. Now, I understand it. It is a gateway connecting this fictional reality to the Library.”

He frowned, slamming his fist lightly onto the throne’s armrest. “But I cannot leave. That gateway only allows those from the outside to enter, but not those from the inside to leave. Unless we completely wrecked this reality, a sacrifice I will not make, it is impossible for me to breach the Lock.”

Nyx paused, pulling her hands from his shoulders.

She moved to stand beside him, her head bowed in deep thought.

Her eyes, those infinite wells of night, narrowed into slits of profound contemplation, before she paused, and turned towards him.

“I…may have a way.”