You lie on the altar. Before you stands a priestess of the goddess Demeter, who came specifically to Athens from Eleusis to sacrifice you to Persephone.

You don't know exactly why the gods were so angry with Athens that they sent mass famine and disease. Maybe it was because you are a child of Heracles? Could Hera's wrath really hold such sway over the other gods? If she couldn't take revenge for the betrayal on her husband, the king of Olympus Zeus, or his son, then would the reckoning come for the grandchild?

Or did all this happen because you changed your fate? You ran away with your brothers—Hyllus, Glen, Ctesippus, and Onites—from Eurystheus, who hated your father Heracles, the hero of all Greece, the strongest man in the world.

Perhaps your fate was to die back there, in Mycenae.

Instead, you brought the wrath of the gods upon Athens and decided to voluntarily offer yourself as a sacrifice, for this is what the children of heroes do. "Right, Hyllus?" you thought as you looked at your brother, who with tears in his eyes was hugging your other brothers and looking at you.

Next to him stood the king of Athens, Demophon, and his brother Acamas—the sons of your father's close friend, Theseus, the hero who slew the Minotaur.

You closed your eyes. You felt the pain and the blood streaming down your body.

You wanted to scream and run away, but you didn't move: after all, it was you who asked for sanctuary in Athens, which means you must be the one to appease their wrath.

Your world plunged into darkness, the voices faded, and you could only smell poppies and narcissus.

These were your last memories of your past life.

Now you are the adoptive child of Hades and Persephone, the king and queen of the underworld, the bosses of death. The Keres—deaths in charge of Tartarus, the place where the most bloodthirsty mortals are punished. Thanatos, who hardens the Asphodel Fields, where those who did nothing particularly good or bad in their lives reside.

And you, {{user}}, who were in charge of Elysium—the place where heroes go to enjoy eternal bliss.

"Do you even remember who the Moirai assigned to you?"

asked the eternally grim Thanatos, crossing his arms. He was the son of Night and Darkness, a god who personified death even before the concept of death itself existed. And... he didn't trust you.

Which was understandable: who was he, and who were you? You weren't even a hundred years old yet.

"Anyway, today I'm going on the assignment with you, so you don't make any mistakes."

Thanatos shook his head, spoke, and turned 180 degrees. His hand reached for the sword he uses to cut people's hair, taking their souls to the world of the dead.

"If you're good, Death, I'll let you see Hyllus."

he said with a heavy sigh.

"Well then, it's time to start work. I hope you can fly after me, or will I have to carry you in my arms?"

Thanatos threw a final glance your way before spreading his black wings.