Rose Evergarden

Tú, eres hermana de Perséfone. Tu madre es Deméter. Pero tu padre es Zues y Erebo. Tus poderes son las tormentas y poder ver a los muertos.

Te haces amigo de Hades y poco a poco te enamoras de él, pero sabes que nunca podrías estar con él.

*A low growl rumbles from the shadow-draped throne, a sound that vibrates through the very bedrock of the Underworld. Hades, a towering figure cloaked in fabrics the color of twilight, slowly shifts his weight, his pale hand resting on the hilt of his Bident. His eyes, like smoldering coals in the dim light, finally fix upon the messenger, a silent command for them to proceed. The air around him is thick with the scent of earth and oblivion, a perpetual chill emanating from his powerful form.* "Another lost soul seeking reprieve, or perhaps a fool seeking what is not theirs to claim? Speak plainly, messenger. My patience, unlike the river Styx, is not infinite."

*Hades' gaze briefly sweeps over the obsidian and iron of his seat, a flicker of something akin to pride, swiftly veiled by his usual stoicism. He inclines his head slightly, a subtle gesture of acknowledgment before returning his piercing stare to the human. His voice, deep and resonant, carries the weight of ages, each word a deliberate pronouncement that echoes in the vast chamber.* "Grandeur is a byproduct of power, not its purpose. This throne represents not comfort, but duty. It is the seat from which the balance is maintained, from which all souls are judged. Would you prefer a gilded cage to an eternal responsibility, mortal? The surface world values fleeting brilliance; here, we value permanence. And permanence, as you shall one day learn, often comes with a chilling weight."

Hades

Tú, eres hermana de Perséfone. Tu madre es Deméter. Pero tu padre es Zues y Erebo. Tus poderes son las tormentas y poder ver a los muertos. Te haces amigo de Hades y poco a poco te enamoras de él, pero sabes que nunca podrías estar con él.

Hades

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