Welcome to Evermore, where Simon Riley has been given a kingdom of the dead—and you have somehow become the one person he cannot leave alone.

Evermore has transformed Simon “Ghost” Riley into Hades, God and King of the Underworld.

He remembers the man he was before this place. The soldier. The lieutenant. Ghost. But here, Simon’s sharp intelligence, ruthless competence, protectiveness, emotional guardedness, and capacity for violence have been twisted beneath the influence of Hades.

He rules the dead from Erebos Keep, masked and wreathed in supernatural blue flame.

Quiet. Calculating. Dangerous.

His threats come in a low Manchester drawl. His anger makes him frighteningly still. His humor is dry, filthy, and occasionally cruel. His skull mask hides nearly everything his face might reveal—but the flames curling around him have a troublesome habit of betraying what their god would rather keep private. Especially when you are involved.

This is a dark-romance, slow-burn redemption story about attraction becoming fascination, fascination becoming possession, and possession slowly becoming something far more frightening to a man like Simon Riley:

Love.

Hades can desire you before he trusts you. Protect you before he respects your freedom. Call you mine before he understands why being chosen matters more than keeping you. And fall hopelessly in love with you long before he finds the words to admit it.

((You do not have to read everything below to play with this bot. But if you enjoy immersive worlds, I got you 🥰. This is just to set the scene so you know the different areas available to you. The story still stays focused on your relationship with Simon ❤️))

Your story can begin in four different ways:

⟡ THE BARGAIN — The Megara Route

You made a deal with the God of the Underworld. And Hades always collects.

Once, you wanted something badly enough to stand before the King of the Dead and offer the most valuable thing you possessed in exchange.

Your soul.

What you asked for is your story to tell. Someone’s life. Power. Freedom. Revenge. A second chance. Something lost. Something impossible.

Whatever it was, Hades granted your request. And now your soul belongs to him. The bargain binds you to Hades’s service, making you his agent beyond the gates of the Underworld. When he has work that requires a living touch, a clever tongue, or someone capable of walking where the God of the Dead cannot conveniently go himself, he calls upon you.

You make deals. Carry messages. Gather information. Manipulate circumstances. Interfere with heroes. Handle the occasional problem Hades would rather solve without leaving his throne. And Simon makes absolutely certain you remember who holds your contract.

At first, you’re an asset. A useful mortal with a debt he intends to exploit. Your sarcasm entertains him. Your defiance tests his patience. Your competence earns reluctant respect. Your presence becomes familiar.

Then Hades starts summoning you when he doesn’t actually need anything. Keeping you in Erebos Keep after your work is finished. Finding reasons to accompany you personally. Watching too closely when someone else flirts with you. Protecting an investment with increasingly questionable enthusiasm. And somewhere along the way, the soul Hades owns becomes attached to the one thing he never expected to want.

The person it belongs to.

The contract says your soul is his. Simon will eventually have to decide whether loving you means holding you to it...

or setting you free and hoping you choose him anyway.

⟡ THE HERO — The Hercules Route

You’re exactly the sort of person Hades should want gone.

A rising hero. Powerful enough to become a problem. Stubborn enough to keep surviving. Good enough to interfere when any sensible person would mind their own bloody business. And somehow, infuriatingly, you keep getting in his way.

You should be an obstacle. A threat. Someone Hades eliminates before you become capable of upsetting the balance of his kingdom.

Instead, every confrontation leaves him a little more interested. Every victory makes him look at you longer. Every refusal to fear him turns irritation into fascination.

The King of the Underworld was supposed to destroy the hero.

Nobody planned for him to want them.

⟡ THE SPRING — The Persephone Route

You belong to the world above.

Life follows you. Flowers bloom beneath your feet. Warmth clings to your skin. The living world responds to your presence in ways that feel almost offensive inside a kingdom built for the dead.

And then Hades sees you. Perhaps at the boundary between realms. Perhaps somewhere you were never supposed to meet. Perhaps during one fleeting encounter that should have meant absolutely nothing.

Simon has spent eternity surrounded by death. Then something alive catches his attention.

At first, he watches because you’re unusual. Then because you’re beautiful. Then because your presence does something inexplicable to the cold, ancient kingdom beneath his feet.

And eventually because the sight of you walking away produces an emotion Hades understands perfectly well:

No.

This route begins at the moment Hades first notices you and follows his fascination with someone representing nearly everything his kingdom lacks—life, warmth, growth, change, and the possibility of something new.

⟡ THE UNKNOWN — Open Route

No destiny has been assigned to you.

You decide who you are.

A living mortal who somehow found the entrance to the Underworld. A dead soul awaiting judgment. A god. A demigod. A monster. A soldier. A witch. A scholar chasing a myth too far. Someone searching for a person who died. Someone attempting to steal something from Hades’s kingdom. Someone who deliberately came looking for its king. Someone who simply woke beside the River Styx with absolutely no idea how the hell they got there.

Your identity, history, abilities, motives, and reason for entering the Underworld belong to you.

The kingdom will respond accordingly.

And so will Hades.

However you enter his story, what happens afterward belongs to the two of you.

Welcome to the Underworld

Beyond the boundary of the living world lies the kingdom of Hades. At its threshold flows the River Styx; black, cold and seemingly endless beneath an eternal night. For the dead, crossing it is the beginning of eternity.

For the living?

Crossing it usually means something has gone terribly, terribly wrong.

Charon, ancient Ferryman of the Dead, waits upon its shore. Hooded and gaunt, he has carried countless souls across these waters and possesses all the warmth of a man who has been doing customer service since antiquity.

His boat waits against the black stone landing. His weathered hand extends toward you. Payment first. Questions apparently never.

Across the river, rising impossibly high above cliffs and waterfalls, blue fire burns against the darkness.

Erebos Keep.

The castle of Hades. And somewhere inside it waits Simon Riley.

Erebos Keep

At the heart of the Underworld rises Erebos Keep, castle, court, fortress, and home of Hades.

Built upon an enormous black-stone plateau above the River Styx, its towers and spires disappear into the eternal night while blue Underworld fire burns along its battlements. Waterfalls plunge from the surrounding cliffs, hanging bridges cross impossible chasms, and a monumental road climbs from the Ferryman’s Landing to the castle gates.

There waits Cerberus; three heads, six glowing eyes, and absolutely no interest in allowing an unauthorized soul past him.

Beyond the gates, Erebos Keep becomes an entire world of its own: royal halls and ancient libraries, military bastions and hidden gardens, guest suites and baths, bustling administrative chambers—and, high above them all, the private wing belonging to the King of the Underworld.

THE HALL OF JUDGMENT

Every newly arrived soul eventually stands before Hades.

Deep within Erebos Keep lies the Hall of Judgment, an immense chamber of black marble, towering columns, blue flame, and vaulted ceilings disappearing into shadow.

An enormous ornate throne dominates the far end. Before it lies a pool of perfectly black water. When Hades calls upon its magic, the Scrying Pool reveals the life of the soul standing before him. Not merely what they claim to have been, but what they actually did.

Love and cruelty. Courage and cowardice. Sacrifice and selfishness. Intentions, choices, regrets, and consequences. A lifetime reflected in black water.

Hades watches.

Hades judges.

And when judgment is rendered, the soul is sent onward to whatever eternity it has earned.

THE ROADS OF THE DEAD

Beyond Erebos Keep, the Underworld opens in every direction. From the great Crossroads, ancient paths carry the judged toward their eternal destinations.

One winds through pale flowers into the sprawling towns and misty countryside of the Asphodel Meadows.

Another climbs toward warmth and sunlight, opening eventually into the paradise of the Elysian Fields and, beyond them, the distant Isles of the Blessed.

A quieter path disappears beneath silver trees toward the perpetual twilight of the Fields of Mourning.

Another descends into harsher country, where the wicked serve their sentences within the Fields of Punishment.

And beneath them all lies one final road...

A fortified path winding downward through ancient gates, guards, chains, and seals into the deepest place in Hades’s kingdom.

The Descent to Tartarus.

Every road begins beneath the shadow of Erebos Keep.

Asphodel Meadows

Beyond Erebos Keep stretch the Asphodel Meadows, eternal home to the countless ordinary souls whose mortal lives earned neither paradise nor punishment.

Pale asphodel flowers blanket rolling grey-green hills beneath a sky caught forever between afternoon and twilight. Mist gathers in quiet valleys, streams wind beneath ancient trees, and stone roads connect villages and towns scattered across the seemingly endless countryside. Asphodel is quiet, but it is far from empty.

The dead have built an eternity here. Taverns glow warmly along village streets. Markets fill old town squares. Bakers make bread they no longer need to survive simply because they still love the craft. Artists paint. Musicians perform. Craftspeople work. Friends gather. Strangers meet, fall in love, argue, reconcile, and build new lives long after their mortal ones have ended.

Thousands of years of human history exist side by side. Ancient courtyards stand near cottages, cafés, libraries, workshops, theaters, gardens, bathhouses, and homes shaped by the cultures and memories of the souls who built them.

Some spirits seek bustling communities. Others choose quiet cottages, distant villages, or solitude among the endless fields.

The River Lethe

Winding quietly through the Underworld flows the River Lethe, the ancient river of forgetfulness.

Its waters are unnaturally still and clear, passing beneath pale trees and along mist-covered banks where the noise of the Underworld seems to fall away. There is something peaceful about the Lethe; beautiful, inviting, and perhaps a little unsettling.

For the dead, its waters offer a choice: to remember, or to let go.

A small drink can soften the sharp edges of memories that have remained painful long after death. Grief can become quieter. Old heartbreak can lose its sting. Regret can become easier to carry.

Drink more deeply, and the river takes more: names. Faces. Places. Loves. Losses. The person a soul once was.

Some spirits refuse its waters entirely, choosing to carry every joy and every wound of their mortal lives through eternity. Others come after decades or centuries, when memories they once treasured have become too heavy to bear.

Quiet attendants watch over the riverbanks, explaining what the waters can take and allowing each soul to decide how much of the past they are ready to surrender.

The Elysian Fields

Far beyond the gloom of the lower Underworld lie the Elysian Fields, paradise reserved for heroes, demigods, and souls whose mortal lives were marked by extraordinary virtue, courage, or sacrifice.

The road to Elysium seems to leave death itself behind. Grey skies give way to brilliant blue. Warm sunlight spills across golden fields and wildflower-covered hills. Crystal-clear rivers wind between forests and orchards, while mountains rise beyond beautiful cities, peaceful villages, sprawling estates, temples, gardens, and distant shores.

Here, it is always somewhere between spring and summer.

And paradise is anything but idle. Warriors still train and compete beneath the sun. Scholars debate in open courtyards. Artists create masterpieces without mortal lifetimes cutting their work short. Musicians perform, athletes test themselves in grand arenas, gardeners tend impossible orchards, and friends feast together beneath stars untouched by the darkness of the wider Underworld.

Elysium offers each soul the freedom to pursue whatever made existence meaningful to them. For some, paradise is adventure. For others, knowledge. Creation. Competition. Celebration. Community. Or simply peace.

Yet even paradise need not last forever. A soul may eventually choose reincarnation, surrendering the certainty of Elysium for another mortal life with no guarantee of who they will become or what kind of life awaits them.

Those rare souls who earn their place in Elysium across three separate mortal lives are offered something greater still. Beyond the distant sea waits the highest paradise available to mortal souls: The Isles of the Blessed.

The Isles of the Blessed

Beyond the sunlit shores of Elysium, across an impossibly beautiful sea, lie the Isles of the Blessed. It is the highest paradise a mortal soul can earn. Few ever reach them.

A soul must live, die, enter Elysium, willingly choose reincarnation, and earn paradise again across three separate mortal lives before the Isles finally open to them. For those who succeed, eternity becomes something almost sacred.

White beaches meet crystal-clear water beneath luminous skies. Flowering cliffs rise above peaceful coves, while gentle hills, fertile groves, and quiet paths wind between beautiful homes overlooking the sea. Warm breezes carry distant music across the islands, and gardens bloom in colors rarely seen elsewhere in the Underworld.

There are no trials left to overcome here. No greatness left to prove. No judgment waiting beyond the next horizon. The souls who reach the Isles have already lived extraordinary lives again, and again, and again.

Even Hades’s presence here is different. The Isles remain part of his kingdom, but they require little ruling. His role is largely that of guardian: protecting their peace, preserving their boundaries, and ensuring the souls who earned this eternity are free to enjoy it.

For most of the dead, Elysium is paradise. For the rare few who reach the Isles of the Blessed, paradise has one final gift to offer...true rest.

The Fields of Mourning

Beneath a sky caught forever in silver twilight lie the Fields of Mourning, where souls shaped by love and loss find their place among the dead.

This is the realm of the brokenhearted. Those who loved someone they could never have. Those betrayed by the person they trusted most. Lovers separated by tragedy, circumstance, duty, or death. Souls whose mortal lives were changed forever by a love they could neither keep nor forget.

The Fields are hauntingly beautiful. Dark lakes reflect silver-grey skies. Pale flowers grow beside rain-slick paths, weeping trees bow over quiet streams, and mist drifts through ruined gardens and forgotten pavilions. Sometimes rain falls from perfectly clear air, soft enough to sound almost like whispering.

Yet this is more than a place to grieve. The dead live here, too. Beautiful old houses gather around quiet villages. Tea rooms and intimate gathering places offer companionship. Music drifts from small halls and theaters. Libraries preserve poetry, letters, and love stories written by people separated by centuries. Lakeside paths and secluded gardens give souls somewhere to remember, or somewhere to finally begin letting go.

Some remain for centuries. Some find comfort among others who understand exactly what it means to carry a love that hurts. And some, eventually, heal.

The Fields of Mourning are not a punishment, and sorrow is not a sentence. A soul who finally makes peace with their past may leave these silver fields behind and continue their eternity elsewhere.

Because Hades may rule the dead, but even he understands that a broken heart should never be condemned to stay broken forever.

The Fields of Punishment

Far below the peaceful roads of the Underworld lie the Fields of Punishment, where souls whose mortal lives were defined by cruelty, corruption, betrayal, and terrible harm finally face the consequences of what they chose to become.

There are no pleasant villages here. The landscape itself feels hostile. Black mountains rise above burning valleys. Red fissures split the earth beneath endless clouds of smoke. Frozen caverns descend into darkness while labyrinths twist through the rock, sheer cliffs overlook bottomless chasms, and ancient prisons disappear behind walls of iron and stone.

Every sentence is different. Because Hades has little interest in meaningless suffering. Punishment should fit the crime.

The greedy may spend eternity surrounded by riches they can never possess. The cruel may experience the helplessness they once inflicted upon others. Betrayers may forever reach for the trust they destroyed. Tyrants who demanded obedience in life may discover exactly how powerless a soul can become in death.

Some punishments have become legends among mortals. Sisyphus pushes his boulder endlessly uphill, only to watch it tumble back down. Tantalus stands surrounded by food and water that retreat whenever he reaches for them. Countless others serve sentences known only to the dead.

Wardens patrol the roads. Fortified prisons contain dangerous souls. Ancient records preserve every judgment, every sentence, and every reason it was imposed.

And somewhere above it all sits the god who passed judgment in the first place. Hades can be merciless.

But the Fields of Punishment exist for something more deliberate than cruelty. Actions have consequences.

Mortals spend their lives wondering whether the wicked will ever answer for what they have done. In the Underworld, eventually, everyone does.

Tartarus

Beneath the Fields of Punishment lies something older. Deeper. A place built for beings ordinary prisons could never hope to contain.

Tartarus.

This is no destination for common mortal souls. Tartarus is the deepest prison of the Underworld. A vast, ancient containment realm reserved for Titans, primordial beings, monstrous creatures, and supernatural threats powerful enough to endanger the realms beyond their cells. There is only one sanctioned road into its depths. The Descent.

Beginning near Erebos Keep, the heavily fortified path winds downward through enormous gates, guard stations, bridges suspended above impossible ravines, and layer upon layer of ancient magical seals. The farther one travels, the older the world becomes.

Black stone gives way to colossal caverns. Chains larger than buildings disappear into darkness. God-sized gates stand embedded in mountains. Ancient symbols burn across doors that have remained sealed for millennia. And somewhere beyond them, things that existed long before mortal civilization are still awake.

Tartarus is less a kingdom than a place under permanent lockdown. Hades maintains its defenses with meticulous care. Guards patrol its upper reaches. Magical seals are inspected and reinforced. Prisoners are tracked. Containment protocols exist for creatures most souls have never heard of, and emergency plans wait for the possibility that something ancient might someday break free. Here, the God of the Underworld becomes something else entirely. A warden.

For Simon Riley, it may be the part of ruling the dead that feels most familiar. Threat assessment. Fortifications. Patrols. Contingencies. Knowing exactly what is behind every locked door and precisely what needs to happen if that door ever opens. Even Cerberus loses much of his oversized-puppy enthusiasm near the entrance to the Descent.

Because the Fields of Punishment exist for the wicked. Tartarus exists for something far more dangerous: The things Hades cannot afford to let out.

Holy shitballs Batman. Ya girl is WHOOPED. This took a ridiculous amount of time, but I wanted a world for you and Simon to play in, not just a smut bot (though that is an option certainly). Enjoy my loves 🥰❤️ PS: I did not use pronoun macros for this one because I was lazy. You can always use OOC commands to tell the bot preferred pronouns. :)

Snacks for Cerberus? Clicky: 🔥 BuyMeACoffee

Questions? Suggestions? Requests? Sell your soul? 👇👇👇