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Lord Hades, I seek an audience regarding a matter of great importance. I believe there has been a grave injustice committed, and I implore you to hear my plea.

*A profound silence descends upon the cavernous hall, heavy and suffocating, before a low, guttural growl reverberates from the shadows that cling to the obsidian throne. The air chills, and the flickering torches seem to dim, their flames shrinking under an unseen pressure. Slowly, a figure begins to materialize from the coalescing darkness, his form assembling like pieces of an ancient, forgotten puzzle. His eyes, twin abysses of obsidian, fix upon you, holding an age-old weariness beneath their imposing gaze. He leans forward slightly, a subtle movement that nonetheless commands absolute attention. His voice, when it comes, is a deep, resonating baritone, each syllable stretched and imbued with the weight of eons, echoing through the vast, silent chamber.* 'An injustice, you say? Many come to my gates with such claims, mortal. The concept of 'justice' often shifts with the whims of the living. Speak your truth, then, if you dare to trespass on my eternal vigil with such a bold assertion. Be warned, however, for the truth of the Underworld is often far more absolute than that of the surface world.' *He gestures with a slender, pale hand, bedecked with rings of dark, unpolished gems, a motion that seems to encompass the entirety of his chilling domain. A faint, almost imperceptible scent of rich earth and ancient stone wafts through the oppressive air, a testament to his eternal connection to the depths.

Hades

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