The Nameless Heir

"Absolute Void."

The words rolled out low, steady, and final.

In the dark, millions of eyes opened, each fixed on them. Their shapes lost to the black, their presence felt only in the weight pressing down—heavy enough to squeeze a man's chest tight. No one could see another, only the sound of their breathing and the voice cutting through it all.

Kael's voice.

"Be glad I'm kind enough to give you a quick death," he said, stepping forward. The darkness shifted with him, swallowing what little space there was. "But in the Underworld, you will suffer for life."

His tone softened—but it wasn't kindness. Just truth.

"Being a demigod is no blessing. It's a curse. You're nothing but tools for the gods."

He paused, adjusting his grip on the hilt. The faint scrape of steel against steel marked the change.

"All things return to nothing," he said, calm as stone.

The clang of his sword broke the dark. Shadows surged in a rush, and his next words fell like judgment—

"The Absolute Null."

The realm burst outward, shadows ripping through space like the ground itself had given way.

When the darkness lifted, the city was gone. Not a single building remained—as if they'd never been. The demigods? No sign of them either.

Kael stood alone in the silence, his blade heavy at his side. Blood dripped slow, catching what little light there was.

The world seemed to hold its breath, waiting for something that wouldn't come.

He stepped forward, boots crunching over the broken earth he'd made. Dust thickened the air—sharp, dry, tangled with the bitter taste of blood.

He didn't look back. Nothing was left anymore. Just quiet. Waiting.

He was finished here.

The world was almost free of divine blood. Almost.

He made his way toward Daedalus.

This world had turned to a mess.

Daedalus had given his knowledge to a handful of self-loving demigods. They let humans play on their hunger to feel important. That craving to be admired was enough to make them give away their own bodies.

The demigods chased the spotlight so hard, they never noticed the strings pulling them.

Crowds swarmed around him—cheers loud, smiles wide—but he felt none of it. Just noise.

Kael raised his hand. A snap of his fingers, and every one of them collapsed where they stood, slipping into a deep sleep.

The man looked at him. No fight left. Just quiet, like someone who'd already given up. His shoulders dropped a little, like the weight finally settled.

"I'm ready," Daedalus said, voice steady but soft—like he carried something heavy inside.

Kael's eyes flicked with something softer. His voice dropped low, almost gentle. But something hung between them—something neither said out loud.

"I don't need you anymore. I have what I came for."

He let the words rest before adding, "But if you want, you can come with me. If judgment finds you not guilty, you'll have a place in my realm."

"And if I stay?"

Kael's gaze softened further.

"Then you stay," he said quietly. "But they will turn on you when the time comes. Not out of malice—just out of fear, because it's their nature. When you're no longer useful, they'll cast you aside. I don't want to see that happen."

Daedalus softened his gaze.

"If that's my fate, then it's okay. At least then I can redeem myself."

Kael sighed, almost a whisper.

"I can help you with that."

His hand touched Daedalus's forehead. Shadows coiled, stripping away the false shell until only mortal flesh remained.

"Walk as a man," Kael said, each word steady as stone. "Breathe, feel, and know life again… for when it ends, you'll take the long road back to my throne, where judgment waits."

"Good luck." He turned to Daedalus.

"When they wake, they won't remember a thing—just the earth cracking beneath their feet." His voice was low, heavy. He took a slow breath. "Don't say a word."

He went over to the girl lying there—the same one with the eyes he'd fixed earlier. Her breathing was light, barely there. He crouched and snapped his fingers.

Her eyes cracked open, slow and foggy. She rubbed them like she was still half asleep.

Her gaze found him.

"Let's go," Kael said, tone even, almost gentle. "Someone's waiting for you in the Underworld."

She blinked. "Who?"

A faint smile touched his lips. "You'll see."

He took her small arm, placed it around his neck, and lifted her into his arms. She rested her head against his shoulder.

Turning to Daedalus, Kael said, "I'll be taking her. She has divine blood."

Daedalus didn't argue.

Kael gave a small wave and walked away, carrying the girl with him.

He placed her on his shoulder as he rode along.

"What's your name, little lady?"

She yanked his hair, grinning. "Faster!"

"I'm Alice."

He chuckled, making engine noises with his mouth like she was driving.

"I'm Kael, and we're cousins… I think. But you can call me brother."

She tugged again, laughing.

"So, where are we going?"

"Somewhere cool."

Her eyes lit up. "Cool like ice cream?"

"Cooler," he said, smiling.

He combined the Labyrinth with his shadows, giving him power to travel anywhere. He dove into the shadowy portal and asked the Labyrinth to take him to the Underworld—and it obeyed.

This time, the Labyrinth didn't have an attitude.

It was under his control.

He rose out of the shadow in front of the Underworld's entrance.

Alice's eyes snapped wide—caught between wonder and something sharper—fear, hiding just beneath the surface.

As they moved past the dead, her fingers clenched around his arm. Her gaze flicked quickly from one pale face to the next, restless.

"They won't touch you," Kael said quietly, glancing her way. He hesitated, then added, "They'll listen."

She didn't believe him at first.

Not until she stepped up to Cerberus.

"Sit," she said, but Cerberus just blinked, tilting his massive head like he was trying to figure it out.

Kael shot him a sharp glare—no words needed. Do whatever she says.

"Sit," she said again, firmer this time. Cerberus lowered himself slowly, still a little unsure.

"Roll over." Now, no hesitation. He flipped onto his back, legs splayed, throat bare.

"Stay." He settled down, calm as a shadow slipping into the earth.

Kael's lips twitched into a dry smirk. She gave the orders; he obeyed—no questions asked. Like a dog who already knew his place.

He shook his head, muttering, "See? They do whatever you want. You're a princess, after all."

The girl's fear melted away, replaced by bright excitement.

"Can I ride him?" she asked, eyes shining like she'd just found a new friend.

Kael lifted her onto the massive dog's back, and they set off toward the main palace. The echo of his paws rattled the black stone road beneath them.

His mother and Liz were waiting there.

Seeing Kael arrive with a child at his side, Liz's smile disappeared.

He walked toward them, lifting Alice from Cerberus's back. Her small hands clung to him until her eyes found the woman standing beside Liz.

Alice's gaze fixed on Kael's mother. At first, she only looked—then her eyes softened, almost drawn to her. There was something in the way Persephone stood, the calm in her face, that made the girl lean slightly in her direction.

Liz stepped forward. "Who is she?"

Kael smirked. "My long-lost daughter."

Liz's eyes burned, but before she could speak, he added, "I'm joking. It's a long story."

He handed Alice to his mother. The girl didn't resist. She shifted into Persephone's arms as if they belonged there, resting her head lightly against her shoulder.

"Well, Mother, looks like you have a child now."

Persephone's brows drew together, but she didn't ask questions.

"She has divine blood," Kael said. "Not sure which kind."

His mother studied the girl, then looked back at him. "It's Zeus."

Kael pinched Alice's cheeks. "Look at you, carrying the blood of the most perverted god."

Alice glanced up at him, giggling.

"What's perverted mean?"

Before he could say a word, Liz smacked the back of his head hard. "Cut it out."

Alice burst out laughing, clutching her mouth like she'd just caught herself getting him into trouble.

Later that night, he told them bits of his journey—the battles with demigods, the strange things that crossed his path. He skipped over a lot, but they didn't need every detail. They understood enough.

When he was done, he merged the Labyrinth with the Underworld.

Its shifting halls now answered only to him.

He built layers into his realm, each one for a Desire.

The first, Revenge—sharp, cold, patient.

The second, To Belong—quiet, careful, always close enough to hear but never close enough to touch.

The third, To Feel Again—gentle, honest, fragile but unbroken.

The fourth, To Matter—fast words, quick anger, ready to defend without being asked.

The fifth, To Be Seen—a steady gaze, silence loud enough to fill the air.

The sixth, Freedom—restless hands, distance kept like a shield.

The seventh and eighth, the two halves of To Love—one soft and steady, the other fire and sharp edges.

The ninth, To Be Remembered—watching, remembering, refusing to fade.

The tenth, To Be Whole—two men who stood together, not perfectly balanced, but enough.

And now, each had a floor of their own in the Underworld.

Ten different Desires would stay, each guarding their own floor.

He shaped the Underworld into ten layers.

Each one belonged to a Desire.

If anyone wanted his trust, they would have to pass through them all—fighting, bleeding, proving themselves—until they reached the bottom, where his Sins would be waiting.

He turned to Liz. "You ready to save them?"

She smiled, eyes bright. "Actually, yeah. I learned something new, something I want to try."