Although he promised to visit from time to time, it took Hades another month before he decided to come out of his cave.

He got so engrossed in training and feeling himself get stronger that he completely forgot about the outside world.

In fact, if he didn't find fighting with the shadow knights useless as he can no longer get stronger through them, he would've chosen to train some more.

Truthfully, he can no longer get stronger from fighting the shadow knights since Hera visited him, no matter how hard he tries.

However, his training wasn't without gains, as he managed to take a glimpse of 「　」 , well he can't quite say its name, so Hades simply referred to it as Chaos.

From his brief contact, he learned that Chaos is a metaphysical location that acts as the "force" that exists at the top of all theories in the infinite dimensions, as well as the source of all events and phenomena in the universe.

Chaos exists outside of time, it stores and archives information of all possibilities and events, past, present, and future, of the world.

He managed to reach that place by his sheer will and thirst for power.

Yes, his thirst for power was so great even his own limits were broken.

Pain was irrelevant. Weakness was nothing more than a temporary state—one he refused to accept.

Every failure, every loss, every moment of agony only fueled the fire within him. He was not content with what he had. He did not seek power for the sake of some grand ambition—he just needed it, like a drowning man craving for air.

To be strong was not a desire. It was an absolute necessity.

There was no hesitation in his mind, no second thoughts. If the world denied him strength, he would rip it from the hands of the world itself.

If fate tried to shackle him, he would shatter destiny and forge his own path.

He would crawl through the abyss, bleed upon the battlefield, and suffer through torment if it meant grasping the power he sought.

And even if he stood alone against the infinite, he would face it with nothing but his will—unyielding, unbreakable, unstoppable.

Because he was not meant to kneel.

He was meant to conquer.

Just like that, that metaphysical force that seems to restrict him shattered and he soon found himself in chaos.

There was no sky, no ground—only an endless, shifting void that twisted in impossible ways. Colors that had no names bled into each other, forming and dissolving in patterns that defied sanity.

Space was not space.

Time was not time.

Existence trembled, flickering between creation and oblivion.

And then, he saw them.

Colossal entities of nightmarish proportions drifted through the abyss, their sheer scale beyond even divine comprehension.

Some had forms that flickered between flesh, shadow, and cosmic fire. Others were nothing but writhing masses of tendrils, each the size of galaxies, curling and unraveling like an eternal heartbeat.

One creature turned.

It had no face—only an abyss where a face should be, an ever-consuming void that devoured the light of dying stars. Within that void, countless eyes blinked in and out of existence, staring yet unseeing.

Another behemoth loomed in the distance, its very presence warping space around it.

Its gargantuan limbs—if they could even be called limbs—extended across realities, twisting dimensions like threads in a loom.

Its voice was not a sound, but a concept—an overwhelming pressure that crushed the mind with meaning beyond understanding.

Stolen novel; please report.

And yet, despite their unfathomable might, they did not acknowledge him. To them, he was less than a speck of dust drifting through the currents of Chaos, insignificant and unworthy of notice.

Even now, those things were still on his mind.

"Hades?"

Hades snapped out of his thought hearing a gentle female voice called out to him.

It was his mother, Rhea the Titaness of Motherhood. A beautiful woman that exudes this aura of gentleness and motherly love.

She has long silky black hair tied in braids, wearing a white chiton that emphasized her great figure.

Her eyes were mostly closed, and have this ever present smile on her face.

Hades have never seen her open her eyes once.

"Just thinking, mother." He said, continuing his walk with his mother whom he barely spent any time with.

Rhea's smile remained soft, patient, as she walked beside her son. She had always been a quiet presence, a figure of warmth in a world filled with cruelty and ambition.

Hades had spent so long buried in training that he had almost forgotten what it felt like to simply exist without the weight of survival pressing down on him.

They strolled through the mountain paths, the warm breeze carrying the scent of fresh earth and flowers. This was Demeter's work—life blooming even in the hidden corners of the world.

"You've changed," Rhea said after a moment, her voice as calm as the flowing river beside them.

Hades glanced at her. "Have I?"

She let out a soft chuckle. "You don't hide from your siblings anymore. Before, you avoided them because you like to be alone. Now, you avoid them for a different reason."

He remained silent.

"Your aura… it's heavier now," she continued. "More refined. More dangerous."

Hades exhaled, looking toward the horizon. "That's a good thing, isn't it?"

Rhea stopped walking, turning to him fully. Her hands, warm and gentle, reached out to cup his face.

"For the war? Perhaps. But for you? I'm not so sure." She tilted her head, as if searching for something behind his eyes. "Are you happy, my son?"

Hades froze.

Happy?

The question was so simple, so painfully simple, that he had no answer. Had he ever thought about happiness? Since he arrived here, since he knew of what awaits him, his entire existence had been defined by survival, by preparing for the inevitable.

The war was coming.

His survival was all that mattered.

Not to mention those creatures of horror he had seen, the various wars that will happen in the future thanks to his siblings was also lingering on his mind.

He couldn't rest peacefully knowing that one day, he might find his strength lacking and cannot resist whatever is to come.

But as he looked into Rhea's still-closed eyes, he knew that wasn't the answer she wanted.

So he gave her the only truth he could.

"I don't know," he admitted.

Rhea sighed, brushing a stray strand of silver hair from his face, her touch lingering for just a moment longer before she let go.

"You remind me of your father," she said softly, and Hades stiffened.

He despised that comparison.

"He was powerful," Rhea continued, as if sensing his tension. "But he was always looking over his shoulder, always preparing for an enemy, always afraid of losing what he had. He ruled everything but found no joy in any of it."

Hades clenched his fists. "I'm not him."

Rhea smiled again, but this time there was something sad in it.

"Yes. Yes you aren't." she whispered. "And I hope you don't end up like him."

They continued their walk in silence for a while, the rustling leaves and distant chirping of birds filling the space between them.

The sun was beginning to set, casting golden hues across the mountains of Crete.

Hades stole a glance at his mother. Despite everything, despite being the wife of a tyrant, despite being forced to give up her children to save them, despite knowing that war was on the horizon—she still carried that same gentle smile.

How?

"…You don't resent him?" he finally asked.

Rhea didn't answer immediately. Instead, she stopped by a small stream, kneeling to let the cool water run over her fingers. "Your father?"

Hades nodded. "After everything he's done. To you. To us."

Rhea exhaled softly, her expression unreadable. "Resentment… is a chain, Hades. A heavy one."

Hades frowned. "So you forgive him?" His voice came out sharper than he intended.

Rhea shook her head. "No. But I refuse to let him define me. Or my happiness."

She gazed at the flowing water, as if watching memories ripple beneath its surface. "Holding on to anger, to pain—it makes you strong in the moment. But if you let it root too deep, it will consume you."

Hades scoffed. "Strength is what we need right now."

Rhea finally turned her head toward him, her eyes still closed but her presence felt.

"And after the war?" she asked. "When you have all the power you seek, when you've conquered your enemies—what then?"

Hades opened his mouth, then shut it.

He had no answer.

"I raised you as a child, you know," Rhea continued, standing up. "Before he took you away. Before he...swallowed you and your siblings."

Hades remained silent.

"You were quiet. Observant. But you weren't cold." She turned to face him fully, tilting her head slightly. "What happened to that boy?"

He inhaled sharply. "He realized the world wasn't kind."

Rhea smiled, but this time it wasn't a warm one. It was knowing. Sad.

"You think strength is the answer to everything," she said.

"It is."

She shook her head. "No, my son. Strength is only a tool. The question is—what will you use it for?"

Hades tensed, his mind flashing back to the horrors he had seen in Chaos, the eldritch titans that paid him no mind, the sheer insignificance he had felt in their presence.

And then to that memory where he was struggled as he was being swallowed by his own father.

You ask what would he use his strength for?

His fists clenched. The answer was simple.

"To make sure I never feel powerless again," he finally said.

Rhea sighed, walking past him. As she did, she gently touched his arm.

"I hope, one day, you find another answer."

And with that, she left him standing there—alone with his thoughts, staring into the setting sun.

He remained still for a few moments, before clicking his tongue.

"Sorry mother, but my answer will never change."