[Third person POV]

“What?” Markus asked, arching a brow as he noticed Lucian standing still, one hand resting thoughtfully on his chin, his expression unusually contemplative.

Lucian let out a thoughtful hum. “I’m trying to decide how to make a dramatic and stylish entrance as we descend into the Underworld,” he replied with complete seriousness, as though it were a matter of life and death.

Markus blinked, staring at him in disbelief. “Does that really matter right now? Can we just go already?” he asked, clearly exasperated.

Lucian shrugged, still deep in thought. “Fine, fine. But don’t blame me later if our descent lacks flair. You didn’t give me time to plan it out properly.”

Then, without any further warning, he stomped a foot against the ground with deliberate force.

“Wait, what—?!” Markus shouted, eyes wide as he felt the earth beneath them tremble. A low rumble echoed through the area as the ground split open at their feet. A massive hole formed instantly, the edges crumbling away as gravity yanked them downward.

“AAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!” Markus screamed as they plunged into the gaping pit, sliding rapidly down a winding, twisting tunnel of smooth rock.

“Wheeeeee!!” Lucian cheered gleefully beside him, his arms raised like a kid on a playground slide. The hole above them sealed shut just as they vanished into the darkness, cutting off any visible light.

The tunnel twisted deeper and deeper underground, the walls around them glowing faintly before fading to black. Markus kept his wings tucked tightly against his back, struggling to keep himself steady as the speed increased.

“WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!” Markus yelled, voice echoing through the tunnel as it grew darker and colder the further they went.

Layers of the Earth passed them by like the layers of a cake. The natural world gave way to something unnatural.

Suddenly, the slide ended.

A wide opening appeared below them, and the two shot out of the tunnel, freefalling through the cavernous sky of the Underworld. The air was dry, heavy, and eerily still. Towering black rock formations surrounded them, jutting from the ground like claws, and the dim grey lifeless glow of the underworld’s sky cast everything in an ominous hue.

“AHHHHHHHHH!!” Markus flailed mid-air, flapping his arms instinctively as the ground below loomed larger and closer. “We’re gonna die!”

He glanced around frantically—and there was Lucian, calmly falling upside down beside him, arms and legs crossed, wearing the most unimpressed expression possible.

“Hey dumbass,” Lucian deadpanned. “Are those wings just for decoration?”

“Eh? Oh—!” Markus muttered, cheeks flushing with embarrassment as realization dawned. His wings burst open with a loud fwomp, catching the air and slowing his descent.

Lucian then casually spread his limbs, body straightening mid-fall. Without needing to say a word, Markus sighed, recognizing the silent request for help. He muttered something under his breath, flying over and catching Lucian mid-air.

He glided down with Lucian in tow, flapping steadily until they landed. Markus set Lucian on his feet before touching down behind him, folding his wings with a huff.

“Lazy bum,” he grumbled, knowing Lucian could have easily managed without him.

Lucian simply brushed dust off his sleeves and grinned, completely ignoring him. “As the Prince of the Underworld, I officially welcome you to your home.”

Markus looked around, his gaze drawn to the hauntingly beautiful landscape. They stood at the edge of a towering cliff, the perfect vantage point to witness the vastness of the Underworld. Jagged mountains loomed on the horizon, their peaks scraping the lifeless sky. In the distance, a line of glowing silver spirits marched slowly, stretching far across the land like a river of ghosts. Beyond them, almost hidden in shadow, stood the barely-visible silhouette of a massive, black stone castle—the domain of Hades himself.

For a long moment, Markus said nothing. The magnitude of what he was seeing silenced him completely.

“Alright,” he said finally, turning toward Lucian. “How do I meet my father? Where is he?”

Lucian crossed his arms and nodded toward the dark castle. “That’s a bit complicated. To reach him, we need to head to my father’s palace. He can summon your father instantly if he chooses. You should know—your dad isn’t here all the time. Even though this is the Underworld, He spends most of his time in the mortal realm, gathering souls and guiding them here. My father just oversees everything.”

Markus nodded slowly. “Then let’s head to your father’s castle.”

Lucian tilted his head. “We can do that quickly. Or… we could take our time. Explore a bit. This is your first time here after all, and even if you’ve got some complicated feelings about your father… this realm is your home too, at least in part.”

Markus looked down over the ledge again, watching the spirits drift through the misty terrain, his thoughts distant. A small smile curved at the corner of his lips.

“Let’s take our time,” he said softly. “I want to look around… and think about what I want to say to him when the time comes.”

Lucian nodded with a grin. “Fair enough.”

Then, without another word, he leapt off the cliff, plummeting down toward the ground below.

“Wait—Lucian!” Markus shouted, then sighed and shook his head.

He jumped after him, spreading his wings wide to slow his descent. Below, Lucian landed in a dramatic crouch, one fist to the ground as cracks spidered out beneath him like a landing straight out of a comic book.

Markus landed behind him with a more graceful touch, wings folding in. “Show-off.”

Lucian smirked. “You should try it sometime.”

“Alright then, let’s get moving,” Lucian said as he stood up and dusted off his hands. Without waiting, he began walking forward. Markus followed close behind.

As they walked through the dimly lit terrain, Lucian casually started to explain their path. “In order to reach our father’s castle, we’ll need to pass through the Fields of Asphodel. It’s basically the neutral zone of the Underworld—where neither the wicked nor the virtuous reside. Just… the average souls, drifting forever in mediocrity.”

Markus glanced around warily. “Are we going to run into any danger?”

“Yup,” Lucian replied far too cheerfully as he summoned his scythe into his hand. He inspected the weapon with mild contemplation before it shimmered and morphed into a sleek black katana, which he rested across his shoulder.

Markus raised a brow.

Lucian gestured vaguely in his direction. “You reek of death.”

Markus blinked. “What? I—what?!” He immediately began sniffing himself in a panic, checking under his arms and down his shirt. “I don’t smell anything!”

Lucian rolled his eyes. “Not literally. It’s a scent only supernatural beings and monsters can detect. It’s not a hygiene problem, it’s… a spiritual one.”

Markus let out a sigh of relief. “Right, right… You explained this before, didn’t you? It’s the reason monsters don’t usually chase me like they would a typical demigod or demi-spirit in my case?”

Lucian nodded. “Exactly. Something that smells as much like death as you do isn’t what most regular monsters would find appetizing. To them, you’re more like expired meat or an early step into the grave. But in the Underworld, it’s a whole different story. Here, undead creatures—like zombies, ghouls, and spirits—don’t see the smell of death as a warning. To them, it’s like the scent of a five-course gourmet meal.”

Markus narrowed his eyes and summoned his sickles with a flick of his wrists. “Great. So, what exactly are we expecting to face?”

Lucian gave a lazy shrug. “The usual. Zombies, ghouls, vampires, skeletons… the classics. They’ll all have overly dramatic Greek names though—like how a zombie’s technically called a vrykolakas. Makes them sound fancier than they actually are.”

Markus sighed. “You’re the prince of this realm, right? Can’t you just… order them to leave us alone?”

Lucian nodded. “Technically, yes. I could take command of them with a word if I wanted.”

Markus visibly relaxed. “Thank the gods…”

Lucian smirked. “But I don’t wanna.”

“You what—?!” Markus recoiled.

“Come on,” Lucian grinned. “What’s the fun in that? This is a perfect chance for you to build combat experience.”

Markus groaned. “What you call fun and what I call fun are two very different things…”

Lucian laughed and gave him a solid pat on the back. “Loosen up—”

A low, guttural growl interrupted him. Both boys froze.

“Uraaghhhhh!!”

From up ahead, a figure came galloping toward them, moving on all fours. Its skin was a putrid mix of rotting green and pale blue, patches of flesh missing, and its mouth hung open, drooling foul-smelling saliva as it snarled.

“Is that thing… galloping? Why is it so fast? Aren’t zombies supposed to be slow?” Markus asked in disbelief.

“That’s just movie propaganda,” Lucian said, unfazed. “Real zombies here aren’t slow or stupid. Their brains are dead, yeah—but that’s the point. No brain, no limiters. The human body has natural restraints to prevent self-damage. Zombies don’t have that, so they push their bodies way beyond normal limits. And—oh yeah—don’t let them bite or scratch you. They’re very infectious.”

Markus didn’t waste any more time. He darted forward just as the zombie lunged at him with an inhuman growl. The creature swung a mangled arm, but Markus dodged swiftly and countered, slicing through its limb with a clean cut.

The arm flopped to the ground, but the zombie barely noticed. It continued its attack, snarling and slashing at Markus’ face with ragged claws. Markus ducked again and sliced through both its legs with a swift motion, bringing it down to the ground.

He took a moment to catch his breath, thinking the fight was over—but the zombie suddenly pushed itself up using only its remaining arm and launched itself at him, clinging to his chest with shocking strength.

“AHHH!!” Markus shouted in alarm. Reacting instinctively, he unleashed a burst of necrotic energy from his core, sending the zombie flying like a ragdoll. It crashed into the ground, but before it could rise again, Markus dropped one of his sickles and extended a glowing hand.

The zombie lifted into the air, suspended in a swirl of pale, deathly energy. Markus narrowed his eyes and clenched his fist.

The creature began to pale further, its remaining color and energy being drained away. Its limbs stiffened, body cracking like dried wood. The magic siphoned the last of its animating force. The zombie crumbled into a grey husk, which disintegrated into fine ash and scattered with the wind.

Lucian whistled. “Damn. That was… Pathetic.”

Markus looked away, clearly embarrassed. “I wasn’t expecting it to jump at me like that…”

Lucian chuckled and gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “It’s alright. What you need most right now is real combat experience. This little trip is going to give you exactly that.”

Markus nodded, still visibly disappointed in himself. He bent down and retrieved his sickle, holding it a little tighter this time.

“Let’s keep moving,” Lucian said with a grin, his katana resting casually over his shoulder. “The welcoming party’s only just getting started.”

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