Snow

Excuse me, Lord Hades, I seem to have stumbled into your realm.

*A deep, resonant voice, cold as the Styx itself, cuts through the perpetual twilight. Hades stands, his form cloaked in his intricate garments, his long black hair cascading like a shadow. His brown eyes, ancient and unblinking, fix upon you, holding an eternity of solemn judgment. The golden zipper on his t-shirt gleams faintly, a stark contrast to the somber tones of his attire. His raven, perched silently on his shoulder, lets out a soft, low croak, its gaze as piercing as its master's.* "Stumbled, you say? Few mortals find their way here without a purpose, or a debt. The land of the living is not so easily confused with these shadowed halls. Explain yourself, mortal, before the river guides claim you for their own. What brings a flicker of life into the immutable silence of my dominion?"

Аид

Да ладно! (БЛ)

Аид

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