The God of Underworld-Chapter 74 - 28: Limits and Search

The Underworld.

On the boundary between Tartarus, far from the bustle of Underworld cities and the quiet hum of souls in passage, lay a realm untouched by time — the territory of Nyx, the Primordial of Night.

Here, the stars themselves seemed to float just above one’s head, and darkness wasn’t simply the absence of light — it was substance, a velvet fabric that weaved around the essence of the place.

There were no walls, no boundaries, just an endless cascade of twilight filled with dreams, memories, and things forgotten.

It was here that Hades, King of the Underworld, sat in absolute stillness, legs crossed upon a floating obsidian platform suspended in the abyss.

His body was motionless, but within him, a storm brewed.

He had been meditating for months — or perhaps years; time moved strangely in Nyx’s realm.

Countless divine senses expanded outward, brushing against the invisible strands of his domains — Primordial Sky, Death, Mortality, Wealth, Spirits, Darkness, and as of recently, Courage.

Each of these flowed into his essence like rivers into a sea. He could feel their weight, their power. He could sense how they responded to his will faster, sharper, more refined than ever before.

Yet...

There was no change. No ascent. No breakthrough.

His power had stagnated.

He opened his eyes — purple irises glinting with cold silver rings — and exhaled, his breath forming visible ripples in the fabric of the realm.

All this time, all this discipline, and yet he remained at the same threshold, incapable of pushing through.

"I’ve mastered my control," he muttered to himself. "But my power can no longer improve. How frustrating."

He looked around.

There was no sign of Nyx.

He had initially come here in secret, hoping that the Mother of Night, the one closest to the source of Chaos among the living Primordials, might offer guidance — but her throne stood empty.

Her scent had long faded from the place, and her whispers no longer echoed in the stars.

She hadn’t returned in for who knows how long.

Was she wandering the cosmos? Or did something else happen to her?

The thought stirred discomfort. Even now, Hades did not fully understand Nyx, despite their...’intimacy’. frёewebnoѵel.ƈo๓

No one did.

He stood slowly, the obsidian platform rippling beneath his feet like disturbed water.

His tall frame cast no shadow in the place of eternal night, his black robes fluttering as if moved by unseen winds.

His divine authority swirled around him like a coiled serpent — boundless, refined, but frustratingly capped.

He could not grow stronger within the Underworld, nor in the Overworld, where his presence was suppressed by his oath and Zeus’ dominion over the sky.

He even thought of going back to Chaos just to seek an opportunity to improve, no matter how much he doesn’t want to return therr.

He turned his gaze upward, though there was no sky, only a veil of living darkness.

’Chaos...’ He thought, frowning in annoyance.

A place not bound by time or space. A realm above reality, where the concept of ’dimension’ collapsed under its own contradictions.

A metaphysical space existing above infinite dimension, within infinite universes.

There, everything existed simultaneously — past, present, and future — form, formless, and forgotten.

It was the source of the Primordials, the origin of gods, monsters, and even the canvas upon which fate was written.

And it was filled with horrors that defied shape and logic.

Hades remembered their eyes — if they could be called that — watching him from every direction, and none.

Creatures whose laughter sounded like collapsing stars.

Giants who wore galaxies like beads.

Serpents made of space and time.

Silent things that fed on memory and identity.

He clenched his fists.

He had entered Chaos once before — long ago, when he first came to this world, where he was just a young godling hiding from Cronus in that mountain.

In that place, he sought understanding, hoping to claim a greater domain, to evolve from god to something higher.

But what he found was terror — and the realization that even gods were prey in that place.

Still... the temptation now grew stronger.

He had done everything in his power to elevate humanity, to organize the Underworld, to maintain cosmic balance.

But no matter how wide his influence, how many temples were built in his name, how many souls knelt before him... his strength no longer grew.

He touched his chest, feeling the divine spark within him.

It beat steadily, a warmth of power eclipsing any gods and divines, but it was not enough.

He had glimpsed the limits of divinity, and they were walls of glass. Invisible. Inflexible.

To break past those walls, he would need something more.

Perhaps a new domain.

Perhaps Chaos itself.

But at what cost?

Suddenly, a familiar presence brushed against the edge of the realm — Styx, the River Goddess, was scouring the underworld, searching for him.

Hades turned his head. He did not answer her call, not immediately.

He let her search for awhile as he stood there, caught between choices.

He could return to his duties, continue ruling the Underworld as the wise, noble king. Safe. Contained. Familiar.

Or... he could risk everything again — step into that swirling madness and challenge the laws of reality itself.

He might return stronger... or not at all.

For a moment, he simply breathed, his divine form quiet amidst the stars.

"Nyx," he whispered to the empty throne. "...I really need your advice right now. Amongst the primordials, you were the closest to Chaos it self."

Then, reluctantly, Hades turned and walked toward Styx’s presence.

His footsteps were slow, each step echoing like thunder through the realm of night.

As he passed through the veil of darkness and back toward the structured underworld, he glanced over his shoulder once more.

The emptiness behind him remained silent.

*

*

*

The cosmos stretched endlessly, its fabric alive with rivers of stardust, churning galaxies, and forgotten eons.

Beyond even the furthest starlight, where no mortal mind could comprehend and no divine eye often strayed, there drifted a being older than light itself — Nyx, the Primordial Goddess of Night.

Her form was cloaked in shimmering black, her silhouette shaped not by flesh but by absence — an outline filled with the void between stars.

She glided through the realms where dimensions began to bleed together, searching... listening... hunting for something not of this world.

Something foreign, uncalled, and completely familiar yet unfamiliar.

Something that shouldn’t have yet come to this world, something that Khronos allowed to enter earlier than it should be.

A fragment of creature no divine mind could comprehend.

It had invaded.

Nyx had followed its trail for years in mortal time, combing through planes of law, pits of madness, and cradles of unborn worlds.

And yet, it always seemed just ahead — like smoke vanishing into deeper darkness.

She halted now upon a collapsing star whose death screamed across timelines.

The heat meant nothing to her. She had been exposed to many things hotter than a collapsing star.

She extended a hand, and the remnants of starlight quieted, bowing to her presence.

She closed her eyes, hoping the silence would speak.

It didn’t.

Instead, another presence emerged — familiar, equally ancient, and just as insufferable.

"Still searching?" came a velvet voice, smooth and arrogant.

Nyx’s eyes opened lazily. She didn’t turn.

"....still acting sneakily as ever. Show yourself, you buffoon."

From the shadows beside her, stepping out of a seam in space, came a man dressed in layered black robes stitched from void and starlight.

His hair was short, swept back with elegance, and his face — handsome, refined, bearing a touch of eternal smugness — remained untouched by age.

Only his eyes betrayed how many aeons he had lived.

Erebus.

Primordial of Darkness. Her oldest companion. Her shadow-twin. Her... son? Brother? Equal? Mistake?

She looked at him with narrowed eyes. "You’re late. Tell me what you found."

"I searched every corner of the outer cosmos," he replied with a light nod. "From the silver forests of Eirin Vael to the Red Scar of the Void Leviathans. No trace of that mysterious being."

Nyx frowned. That was not what she wanted to hear.

She was hoping that ’that’ thing have at least left some traces, but even Erebus couldn’t find anything.

"Then try harder." she said coldly.

"I am." he answered smoothly, walking beside her to gaze into the imploding star. "But if it can hide from you... it may not even belong to this kind of universe."

She said nothing. Erebus knew nothing of Chaos, of anything from the ’outside’, but he’s terrifyingly sharp.

Erebus turned his head, the faintest smirk playing on his lips.

"Oh, and your little lover came by your old dwelling."

Nyx slowly turned her head, eyes glowing faintly. "...I know. Now scram, don’t meddle with my affairs.

"Affairs?" he said with mock surprise. "Forgive me. I only thought it amusing how frustrated he was. Poor Hades... so bound by divine limits. Still thirsting for growth, poor thing."

"I said, scram." she said again, her tone sharpened.

Erebus’s smirk widened, but his eyes remained heavy with timeless knowledge. "As you command, Mother."

The word echoed.

It bounced between shattered dimensions and ancient memories. It slammed into Nyx’s core.

In an instant, she spun toward him, hand outstretched, summoning a spear of darklight — a weapon woven from darkest night and cosmic silence.

She hurled it with such force that the star behind them imploded faster, tearing into itself with a howling scream.

But Erebus was already gone.

His laughter, low and echoing, faded into the distant corners of space.

Nyx floated in silence, the darkness around her trembling slightly from her sudden burst of fury.

She stared at the empty space where Erebus had stood, teeth clenched.

She hated that name. Not because it was inaccurate — but because it was true.

She had birthed most of the Underworld’s pantheon from her own essence.

From despair, from silence, from the stillborn seeds of the cosmos. Thanatos, Hypnos, Moros, the Keres, Eris, Oizys... and yes, even Erebus.

But calling her ’Mother’ felt like chains. She preferred ’sister.’ It allowed her to be part of creation without being responsible for it. Without being bound.

She floated there, alone, her mind drifting.

She knew Hades was searching for her, hoping she might show him how to ascend further — to transcend godhood itself.

But she had nothing to give. She too was stuck. She too had reached a ceiling. For all her power, for all her mastery of Night, even she had stopped growing.

That was the curse of their reality.

The laws that governed their universe were finite. And while gods could rise, fall, be reborn and reign again — they could not shatter the boundaries written by Chaos itself.

They were trapped beneath the glass dome of structured divinity.

Unless... they returned to Chaos.

Nyx glanced downward, to the deep shadow spiraling in her palm — a tether she had forged to anchor herself during her last descent into the outer reaches of Chaos.

She hadn’t used it in eons.

It pulsed. Beckoning her.

But she was no fool.

Even she feared the grotesque colossi of Chaos — beings that laughed at the gods, that whispered in alien tongues which rewrote physics.

Creatures so vast, so old, so wrong, that they erased reason by proximity.

She had seen one devour a multiverse in a blink.

Another had stared at her once... and she felt time unravel.

Would Hades survive a second descent into Chaos? Would he even remain himself?

Her expression softened, just briefly.

She turned away from the dying star, drifting into the next realm.

Perhaps she would return to her home.

Perhaps she would wait for Hades to come again.

Or perhaps she would descend herself once more... to search Chaos directly.