The things weren't going well, the Underworld was completely losing its essence and its magnificence because the Bronze Saints of Athena have managed to reach the Elysian Fields. Damn them, they and the goddess of war who had her plan so well prepared. Those were the thoughts of Rhadamanthys as he ran towards the only place that still remained intact thanks to his own power, a place that he had been protecting for more than two years and that no one but him knew what lived in its inside.
He didn't even waste time checking if someone was following him, the cosmos of Gemini Kanon had been extinguished when he gave up his golden cloth to be able to destroy the Wailing Wall and there was no one else of importance left in the Underworld who could hinder his path but he must hurry because surely -and with the luck that characterized them- Athena's warriors would rise with victory even with the Twin gods waiting for them in the holly place. So he got rid of his surplice and ran like he had never done before in order to reach his destination as soon as possible.
At first, what Rhadamanthys was looking for seemed like another mountain in an abandoned region of the Underworld, however, its interior housed a secret chamber whose corridor measured about thirty meters that once crossed, a circular room with a finished ceiling opened on point; its walls were simple, fine stone after all, but protected by a series of engravings that were only kept silent in the presence of its creator: the Wyvern. In the center of the tomb there was a marble table and on it, a female body sunk in an eternal sleep hidden by a very fine silk from the ancient Greece. Rhadamanthys approached carefully, gently pulling back the white sheet that concealed the face of the beautiful lady he had guarded for two millennia. He contemplated her for an instant, it had been centuries since he had faced that inner battle... the woman was as beautiful as his mind remembered her because the power of the vault kept her young, intact and perfect since he deposited her there waiting for be of use to him. Now was the time.
Rhadamanthys braced himself for the harshest test of his entire existence but he was the only alternative to scarcely save his lord. He closed his eyes, searched the Hades cosmos beyond its limits, and concentrated on the age-old technique that would bring him back. The so-called "Thread of Destiny" was an attack that only the judges of Hell and Hades himself knew about, a practice that allowed the exchange of the vital energy of two bodies, one younger and the other older, to achieve that who lost his life in one of the bodies, it will resume at the other end. Wyvern's intention was clear: to exchange what little was left of Rhea's soul for the spirit of his lord at the right time in order to make the Saints of Athena believe themselves victorious.
He had to be cautious and above all, give all his devotion to the King of the Underworld. For Hades, the one who had freed him from his suffering to make him his right hand. At last, after years of servitude and defeats in the Holy Wars, the Wyvern warrior would show what he really was capable of:
THREAD OF DESTINY!!
A blinding glow engulfed him next to the body that rested on the marble table followed by a torrent of energy that made him scream until his vocal cords were worn out, excruciating pain overcame him but he held on the marble with pride clenching his dragon fangs, knowing that he had to do it so as not to lose the war permanently. After a few eternal seconds, the light disappeared and the cosmos that had flooded the room evaporated in the form of purple particles. Rhadamanthys rested his hands on the edge of the table as he caught his breath, gasping several times, trying to get over what had just happened. The technique seemed to have worked although nothing showed signs of it, there was no trace of the essence of Hades or of Rhea but the Wyvern knew that if he had failed in this attempt, he would have died along with his god and the woman who for many years he had loved madly.
The earth shook, a sign that the Elysees had been left without a guardian. On instinct, Rhadamanthys took the woman's body into his arms to protect her from the rubble that was beginning to come off the vault. He had to get her out at all costs from there, he had to protect her and keep her from the danger because although Hades was inside her, he was still in a weak body that had been immobile for two millennia.
Feeling Rhea close to her chest, like the first time, destroyed his heart because even if he insisted on denying it, he had one and still suffered from what happened so long ago:
"It's time for you to keep your promise…" he said in a whisper.
---
Hades slowly opened his eyes. He recognized at a first glance his quarters in the castle of the Underworld, the softness of his bed, the delicacy of the fabrics that kept him hidden and that soothed his rest... He was alive even having received an withering attack. of Athena. It was impossible but his enemy had been resurrected countless times so... why wouldn't the same thing happen in his case? The Underworld couldn't stay that long without his god so that might explain why he hadn't reincarnated as a baby. He smiled, satisfied with that result, but it took him immensely to make the gesture. He was weak and his cosmos was imperceptible but he was alive after all.
After a more conscious couple of hours of rest, Hades tried to get up. It was then that he discovered that something in himself was different: he observed his hands, fine and delicate, white as those of a fairy. That didn't surprise him too much since he had always cared for his body as if it were a Greek temple but when he moved... his chest felt ... heavier. "Ah~ now I see." He thought as he noticed how much his chest protruded. He caressed the breasts over his tunic, firm and wonderfully curved; "Ah~ the Greek canons…" the most beautiful in history and obviously, there was the proof. He understood then that he had gone through the same phase as the reincarnations of Athena, his soul had taken possession of a new body, not a container as it had been doing since the beginning of time but now his real self was in a different body than little by little he would completely merge with his essence to be the new Hades in all its splendor.
Interested, he got up carefully from the bed and went to see himself reflected in a nearby mirror: he wore a dark tunic with a slight neckline, the fabric was semi transparent so that the real silhouette of his body could be guessed under it; his sleeves were wide, a suit similar in design to the one he used to wear but much tighter. Her hair was wavy, brown and long, like the princesses of ancient Greece and his face, was equivalent to the beauty of Helen of Troy; this made him happy with his new appearance although, of course, he would soon change it radically:
"A woman..." he whispered hearing her voice for the first time, velvety, seductive ... "Ah~ so the Underworld will be dominated in this new era by a goddess."
However, the Queen still needed much more rest than she thought because just as she finished that sentence, her weak body gave way and she fell to the ground. Fortunately, a faithful warrior had already felt her cosmos awaken and had come to meet her, being able to avoid the blow:
"You shouldn't stand too long, my lord."
"So it was you, Wyvern... I am surprised that you were able to carry out a technique like the Thread of Destiny."
"I am one of the three Judges of Hell, my lord, I ask you please, don't underestimate my power."
Carefully, Rhadamanthys laid Hades's body back on the bed and knelt before her presence a few meters behind, waiting for her superior to give new directions or inquire about the state of her territory:
"I think… I should change my name from now on." Said the goddess, raising her right hand to observe her carefully "The name 'Hades' sounds too rough for a face like this. How about the idea, Wyvern?"
"Whatever you decide is well chosen, my lord."
"'Madam' from now on! I am the Queen of the Underworld, show the respect I deserve or you will be punished even if it was you who brought me back to life, do you understand?"
"Yes, Madam".
"Well, now... I grant you the honor of baptizing your goddess. Tell me, Wyvern... what name do you think would be the most ideal for this new body?"
Rhadamanthys hesitated for an instant, feeling unworthy of such an amendment; he had to think of something whose meaning represented the beauty of his lord -lady in this case- but which, in turn, would definitively disassociate him from the origin of his body. It was then that a term came to mind:
"Nekyia*"
"Mhmm... 'Travel to the Hades.' Wise decision, my dear Wyvern."
*Nekyia: It's pronounced 'Nekyia' or 'Necuia' and literally means: the evocation of the dead. However, in Greek poetry, it's what the journey of souls to the Underworld is called.