Tower of Heaven

[You may use the palace as you please. If you decide that you must leave this world, I will allow your exit. You only need to tell me when the time comes.]

That was what Hades said. It made Atlas doubt if he’d have to make another perilous journey to come back, but that was a matter to consider when it came time for him to return.

At the moment, Atlas was walking the halls of the palace. He chose not to immediately leave the Underworld for obvious reasons, but that didn’t mean he was standing still.

As he walked those halls, he found that the servants of the palace weren’t any ordinary skeletal beings. They were capable of speech and thought like living humans. The only difference was their appearance.

When he approached them, they mostly avoided him. He was accompanied by a skeletal butler who was watching over his movements, but that didn’t make them any friendlier.

If anything, when they saw him and that butler, their mouths were hushed even quicker.

Was there a tradition of punishing them severely? Or were guests just such a rare thing?

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He didn’t know, but he was sure that he needed to try communicating with them.

"Excuse me, has anyone here heard of the Cyclopes?"

He wanted to ask around the palace to see what he could learn, but when he asked the question, he never seemed to get an answer.

That is, until he changed his method of questioning.

"I have been assigned a quest by Lord Hades and I’m looking for information to complete it. Has anyone heard of the Cyclopes?"

Now, unlike his previous questioning, this one received immediate answers.

"Oh, so you have received a quest from Lord Hades!"

"Wow, you must be a blessed hero!"

"If the Lord has chosen to give you a quest, then we are obligated to help. If you are asking about the Cyclopes…"

The abrupt switch was hard to cope with, but Atlas had to accept the weight of Hades’ name. Really, in this Underworld, he was worshipped as a true God.

Hel was related to her Underworld and it even received its name based on hers, however, her status felt different. There was something about the way Hades conducted himself and the way his people saw him…

’Is it because he is a much more ancient God?’

In his understanding, Hel was supposed to still be quite young in terms of the Gods. Hades, on the other hand, was much older. He was one of the Elder Gods of his pantheon. The kind of reverence his name brought about was just incomparable to most others.

Atlas was starting to realize how great of an entity this God of Death actually was, but that wasn’t a fact for him to focus on. It was something he stored in the back of his mind as he listened to the words of those skeletal servants.

They did their best to help him when he brought Hades’ name into the equation.

"The Cyclopes…? I heard that they’re a barbaric race. They live on some island in the overworld, no? I remember hearing of them from some passing soul, but I have not personally seen one."

"No, no. There have been some Cyclopes that passed through here. I remember one got sent to the Fields of Asphodel…"

"Oh? What a lucky fellow!"

"What luck? It was his achievement, after all."

They gave information in bits as they conversed. In the end, no matter how many servants he asked, the conclusion was the same.

’They know about the Cyclopes as a race. They don’t know about the three brothers mentioned by Hades.’

"Three Cyclops brothers…? There may be some siblings among them, but don’t you know? They are a cannibalistic people. They have no care for their familial relationships."

’Is this the common opinion? These are people in Hades palace. In one sense, they should be more knowledgeable due to their proximity to the King of Death. In another sense, they are perhaps more naive because they never leave the palace.’

Atlas needed to find and ask others the same question.

’Those in the overworld would be good. As a matter of fact, if I just ask Scarlet Fox

How long had it been? At least several months had passed since the last time they spoke. He didn’t doubt that she’d made more progress towards the establishment of her information agency.

’She might even have it set up already.’

He wished he could immediately contact her, but he would have to wait until he was in the overworld.

’Though I haven’t learned anything about those three brothers, the Cyclopes race that is known lives in the overworld. It will be best to search in that direction, but before I return to Hades, I want to ensure that there isn’t more information I can gain here.’

The majority of those in this palace were skeletal servants. As a matter of fact, almost the entire population was made up of them. Atlas spoke to as many of them as he saw while walking through the palace and received the same answers in various different forms.

He explored the massive palace until he truly got lost in its halls. He knew that the butler behind him would take him back to the main area if he ever requested it, so he kept exploring despite his confusion.

Twisting and turning through corridors that were both uniform and all unique, he made it to an inner courtyard somewhere in the palace.

It was open air. The dark sky of the Underworld didn’t quite match the scenery and even dampened it, but that couldn’t be changed. Rather, the scenery on the ground made one imagine a clear sky and a beautiful sun. It was as if it represented the longings of the one who created it.

It was another garden, similar to the one that stood at the front of the palace. However, if that garden was made to be seen by visitors, this one was for the personal satisfaction of the one who tended to it.

It was much less vibrant and contained much less immediate glamor. The colors were more muted and uniform, portraying different shades of pink and purple that subtly changed between each other and turned more red.

The flowers and plants created their own ecosystem within the Underworld. Atlas could hardly believe he was still inside a Palace of Death. He felt a feeling of longing, of desire, and of hopelessness. Yet, he also felt peace, acceptance, and care.

What was the reason behind these feelings? Who gathered these plants, put this garden together, and provided it with enough vitality for it to survive in such a deathly place?

Those questions weren’t left unanswered for long. After all, Atlas was not the only person in this garden.

The instant the skeletal butler noticed her presence, he stepped in front of Atlas to push him out of the room. Only, before he could, a smooth voice stopped him.

[Leave him be.]

It was a tone that was clearly Godly, but without the same domineering undertones that Hades’ voice contained.

Hearing it, the butler hesitated for a moment before stepping aside, revealing her appearance.

A woman with a haunting beauty that almost forced one to pity her, yet a woman fresh and pure like the morning breeze in spring.

When the butler stepped aside, Atlas laid eyes on a Goddess of Vitality; the wife of Hades and the Queen of the Underworld.

[Welcome.]

She, Persephone, looked back at him with a smile.

[It has been a long time since this garden has received visitors.]

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