And he did not expect the one last challenge to be Theseus, the First King of Athens, side-by-side with the Bull of Minos in the Elysian coliseum.

"Theseus?! The Bull of Minos?! You two are legends! I-I'd be honored if we had a sporting contest here, sirs!"

"Ah, a naked attempt to sway me from my convictions. Well, it won't work, fiend! You'll not walk one more step towards the light of day, so long as I am here!"

The crowd cheers. Apparently they like this sort of thing.

(A voice from the front row yells "Why are you like this?" in a mildly despairing tone.)

"—your convictions?"

Snort. "We have been tasked with preventing your incursion into the realm of the living," says the bull.

"A mission we do with utmost vigor and zeal, for if we were to sway from our duty the likes of you would roam free from the Underworld! Your rampage ends here, blackguard, at the hands of Theseus and Asterius!"

The crowd roars at the name drop.

("We already know your name!" yells the opinionated shade in the front row.)

"No, I, wait what?" Theseus is an asshole. No one told him Theseus was an asshole. "I—suppose—my father must have put you up to this and said whatever he said—" The Prince of the Underworld sighs heavily, but then lifts his sword into a ready stance—not as good as he can usually be, he is already bleeding from several shallow wounds and a couple less shallow ones, but he can't not try. "On your guard, then."

"May the gods show you some mercy, for I shall not!"

He really, really doesn't. Maybe Zagreus would be able to figure out a way past his hoplon, if he were at full strength and not constantly harried by the Bull of Minos, but it's the sort of thing Zagreus would have to really work for. As it is now, well. It is at least a mercifully short trouncing, and soon enough Theseus is standing over the young god with his spear pointed at his throat.

"If you are so foolish as to come so far to lose to us again, you will need to do better than that. This was hardly a fight worthy of our adoring audience!"

And then he makes for the killing stab—

-and amidst all the cheering, somebody throws a fist-sized rock at his head.

Somebody has excellent aim! Thonk.

"Ow!" says Theseus, who is not wearing a helmet because that would get in the way of his pretty face, "Audience, I am unhappy at the length of the bout as well, but that's no reason to take it out on me!"

"You sanctimonious bullying prick I hope your next bout cuts your balls off-"

The opinionated shade is restrained by his neighbors before he can lob another rock. Somebody starts the "THE-SE-US!" chant back up, and it goes from ragged back to overpowering in moments.

...well at least someone else realises what a raging asshole Theseus is.

"Finish this, king," he spits out, saying the word in the way only a god can mean it.

He does.

As deaths go, it's not too bad. Definitely beats burning to death, or ripped apart by witch magic. So that's nice. Probably. That's probably nice.

He barely feels it. At least he barely feels it as he dissolves into the Styx, slipping into unconsciousness and being taken back to his father's halls.

A familiar-looking shade pops out of the pool a few seconds after he does, and looks around appraisingly.

"Huh. Déjà vu."

There are many shades coming out of that pool fairly often, so the Prince of the Underworld, who walked all the way past the line of shades and is now looking around for something, does not immediately look.

The god of sleep, however, does—almost as if it's his job. He blinks when he sees that new shade with a "I've seen you before," then looks at his little list. "Huh! Killed by other shades, that doesn't happen often!"

"I have a talent for making friends," the shade says modestly.

Then his eyes light on Zagreus, and he lights up, cutting in line remorselessly to get closer to him. "Prince Zagreus! I saw - um - I was - hello, my Prince!"

The Prince had started walking towards whatever is to the left of Hades's desk from where the shade is standing but stops when he hears his title called. "Oh, hello," he greets. "—did I see you in the coliseum just now?"

"Um! Yes, actually! I was - the one with the rock. And the swearing."

"Oh, the one with good taste. I appreciated the rock, King Theseus definitely had it coming." He stops walking when he's close enough to the shade that they don't need to shout and—he's short. Not objectively, but for a god? Definitely diminutive.

Well, the shade is short even for not-a-god. He's very slight, as well - just generally unimposing. He's very pretty, though! And he's got a bit more color, a bit more vitality than most of the shades around the Halls.

"I'm - that is, my name is Agatinos. It's really an honor to meet you!" He extends his hand halfway towards a handshake, then thinks better of it and starts to bow. "Um, both as the Prince and - sort of the opposite of that?"

Zagreus makes sure to grab Agatinos's hand before he finishes drawing it back and gives it a firm shake. "Well, it is a pleasure to meet you both as an individual and as apparently the only shade in all of Elysium who is not actively trying to kill me, cheering for my death, or passively standing around while any of those happen! And—the opposite of being a Prince?"

"Um - your. Very public undermining of your lord father. By repeatedly attempting to escape his dread domain. I think it's good."

Agatinos cannot quite help looking nervously at Zagreus' lord father, who is maybe fifty feet away, as he says this. But he does not whisper it, just says it matter-of-factly.

He grins widely at that. "Let's go to the food hall, neither of us needs to sit but it can be fun to pretend."

"Yes! Let's."

He leaves the line entirely and follows Zagreus, looking much more confident than he has sounded throughout this conversation, and looking in particular like he is supposed to be here and not in the line. 

There are enough other shades milling about and very definitely not in line to speak to Lord Hades that he doesn't stand out.

He turns right from the direction of the pool and then right again into a spacious food hall. It looks even more spacious for how empty it is; its only customer seems to be a tall one-winged blue lady with many piercings. "Oh, hey, Meg."

"Zagreus," she greets in a drawl. "Who's your friend?"

Agatinos bows deeply. "They call me Agatinos, Kindly One. I pray to remain beneath your notice."

"What a respectful boy. You should learn a thing or two from him, Zagreus."

"What, grovelling? I didn't know you were into that outside the bedchambers."

"Watch your words," she says in a warning growl. "I should get back to work anyway. Enough of a forced break for now."

"Good luck! Maybe next time I won't beat you so soundly."

"You will not."

And she disappears in a puff of dark smoke.

"Sorry. About the grovelling. I just - if all goes well there's no harm done, and if all doesn't go well I would in fact rather remain beneath her notice."

"Oh don't worry about that, I was just needling her. —we used to date, for some more context."

"Ah. I suppose if you've a taste for, uh, beautiful yet vicious women."

Agatinos sits down at one of the tables and looks around. "Wouldn't have expected the lounge to get... spruced up like this? I've been in a few times over the centuries and it's been pretty static, all told."

"Well, first time I tried to leave Cerberus kicked up a fuss so I've been putting in some improvement requests with the Contractor. Sort of as an apology, but also I like the liveliness." He sits at the table, too.

"Good of you. It looks very nice."

Agatinos suddenly leans over the table and says, "I want to come with you."

"—come with me where?"

"The surface. I - I hate it down here so much. In Elysium, everything's fake - the trees mock me, the waters of the Styx, the - the soil is made of crushed gemstones, do you know how annoying that is to a nymph?" His hands twist and pluck at each other. "Asphodel was almost alright until the flood. Tartarus gives me nothing. The Halls themselves - I could maybe be alright in the forbidden garden, but it's. Forbidden. Obviously."

He breathes in and out. "I'm - I'm not asking you to take on dead weight. I can fight."

Zagreus blinks a few times, his eyebrows raising slowly as he hears the tale, but by the end of it he's beaming widely. "I think my father might be less lenient on you than he is on me, although I suppose not very much so, given he is still confident in the imepentrability of his walls outside. Are you sure?"

"I'm very sure. If he tries to punish me - well, he can try."

Now his eyebrows are as high as they'll go. "He is the god of the dead," Zagreus points out. "He can try."

"Yes, well, he's been tormenting me quite effectively for a few centuries now without any conscious effort on his part, and frankly I don't know that the whips and chains would be much worse. Perhaps he'll light me on fire, perhaps he'll have me repeatedly flayed - the concept of spending another hundred years, another thousand years, without feeling real water on my skin again, makes it seem a bit academic."

Zagreus extends his hand towards the shade again. "In that case, welcome aboard!"

"Delighted to join you," the shade says modestly, taking his hand.

Zagreus withdraws his hand and assumes a more thoughtful expression. "Do you have any weapons?"

Agatinos reaches into thin air and pulls out a pair of pink-and-blue crystalline makhairai, then lets go of them and allows them to disintegrate into sparkles.

"The Elysian aesthetic is also somewhat grating," he admits. "But I can kill with them perfectly well."

"Bet I could figure out a way to change it."

"That would be interesting," Agatinos says. "I have no idea what that would even entail, but it would certainly be interesting. Care to try?"

"Do you have a specific target in mind?"

"Simple bronze would suit me fine, honestly, I like the color."

Zagreus hops off the chair and says, "Follow me."

Agatinos will follow. (He's very excited about basically everything that's happening right now, and his poker face is questionable at best, but he manages to keep from bouncing as he walks.)

The god leads him out of the lounge, past a hallway, into a doorway, through another hallway, and to...

...his bedroom? Large, spacious, densely decorated, a queen bed to the right, a wall-covering mirror to the left. And the mirror seems to be his destination. "Forgive the mess," he says, absent-mindedly. "Hand me your weapons?"

Agatinos sparkles the makhairai into existence and hands them over. "It's rather nice, actually," he comments. "I like the pinups."

Zagreus grins as he accepts the weapons. "If Achilles ever has reason to visit my room I might have a thing or two to explain but I'm sure lady Aphrodite won't mind."

Then he looks into the mirror and... leaves.

Not physically. His body is still there. But his eyes lose focus, his flaming laurels and feet dim, and the mirror... It's strange, it's almost like a fog is now covering its surface, except it's not really, and Tintin can still see just as much detail as before. But clearly the mirror is doing something, or Zagreus is, with it.

...alright! Agatinos sits gingerly on the bed, feeling vaguely like he's intruding.

It only takes a few seconds, half a minute maybe, but eventually there's a flash of light—no, a flash of darkness? unlight?—and Agatinos's weapons have changed.

Zagreus turns around to give them to the shade. "Tada," he says.

"Oh, excellent! Thank you - what in the world was that, I'm extremely curious."

"The Mirror of Night. Nyx made it for me, to help with my attempts out. It—I'm not sure how it works, exactly, but it seems to draw my powers out and focus them? She says it doesn't let me do anything I couldn't learn to do by myself, eventually, but it helps me concentrate on myself and find these things I could do more easily. It's like a mirror for my soul, I guess?"

"...huh." Agatinos elects to keep his distance from the mirror.

While doing so, he tests the weight of the makhairai. "These are very good. Have you used daggers before?"

"Can't say I have. I'm a longer-reach guy."

"Ah. That... was never really an option, for me."

He gestures at his general tininess.

He grins and shrugs. "We make do with what we have, I suppose.

"Ready to rumble?"

"...I suppose. I wonder if -"

He shakes his head. "No, let's go."

"Come on, you can't start that sentence and then not finish it, don't you know that's mean?"

"Oh, alright - should we spar, first? I don't know what it looks like when you fight someone who isn't, you know, that prick Theseus."

"Sounds hot, let's do it."

He leads the way through the other door out of his chambers.

Agatinos sporfles. "What is that supposed to mean? I don't know if I optimize for being hot when I fight!"

"I don't know if fighting can fail to be hot."

...maybe he should fight Thanatos. Food for thought.

"That's an interesting perspective. I suppose there is the adrenaline."

Follow follow follow.

"The adrenaline, the close body contact, the sweat and body heat, the pain... If you want to turn this into sex after we fight I am all for it."

The chamber they come out to is more of a platform, spacious and open, overlooking Tartarus. The corner is decorated with floating weapons, dark purple and red light swirling around them as they rotate in place, plus a glass-covered shelf with... trinkets? They look like small trinkets, from a distance, nothing special at all about them.

And sitting down, doing nothing, whiling around, is an honest-to-gods skeleton. It looks up at them when they're in view.

    "Hey, boyo! Back already? Who's your friend?"

Agatinos thinks about responding to the prince of the underworld flirting with him but decides instead to do anything else.

Like stare at the skeleton. "I might ask the same. And am. Zagreus, who's your... apparent friend?"

"This is Agatinos, he's a shade that hates the Underworld and was seduced by my charm, wit, and willingness to challenge my lord father in his declarations that it is impossible to leave," he tells the skeleton. Then he turns to the shade. "And this is Skelly, no I don't know if that's his real name, and I do not really know why he's here and he won't tell me, but he likes serving as a training dummy for whenever I'm feeling bored or want to try something new."

    Skelly raises a hand. "Nice to meet you. Is it going to be two versus one? Sounds exciting."

"...that's... deeply suspicious... but I admit I can't really think of an angle best served by getting repeatedly stabbed?"

    "It's fun!"

"But no, I'm going to fight him. Or, well, spar."

    "Awww, and here you got my hopes up."

"Sorry, mate. Maybe another time."

    "Eh, it's fine, can't have it all. Toodles!" And with that the skeleton disappears in a flash of dark red light.

"Well, that was... perplexing," Agatinos says. "Shall we, then?"

"Yes, let's," he says, walking over to one of the floating weapons—the sword, the same one he'd been using to fight Theseus, having somehow found its way to this chamber upon Zagreus's death—and taking it. He then walks over to the center of the arena, stretching his arms a bit, and says, "How lethal are we going for?"

"Hmm... first kill, maybe? I should probably get used to, well, dying, and killing, which... I've only died twice, and I haven't killed anyone in hundreds of years."

"I don't think I have ever killed anyone or anything that wasn't already dead, is it different?"

"...I think so. It's been - longer, since I killed a mortal. I tried to avoid it, when I could. But if they were threatening my river, I couldn't. And it never felt good. Killing a shade, or someone else that'll come back, that's fine. I just stopped sparring a few hundred years ago, when it started to feel - pointless."

"Interesting. Well, ready when you are."

And, after a count of three -

Some people fight like they have something to prove. Like they're showing off. Zagreus may be familiar with this from the shades of Elysium, who fight like everything is a grand tournament and they are the main show.

Agatinos, too, could be interpreted as showing off. He fights like a dancer, not a soldier; he flips and spins and misdirects. He is never in the same place twice. But through it all, his blades slash at Zagreus, not like a tournament-fighter or gladiator, but like a killer. He harries the Prince like water washing away at stone: flowing, rapid, inevitable.

Zagreus fights like...

...like he was trained by the best of the Greeks. Achilles has taught him many things, over the years, techniques and tricks and ideas, but the most important skill he has imparted on his pupil is being able to adapt. He doesn't have one fighting style; he has all of them. He is probably more reckless than he could be, if he wanted, more reckless than a mortal would be, if they wanted to stay alive. He doesn't. It's not like he doesn't care, but he avoids it like he's avoiding a headache, an annoyance and nothing more. And that makes him scarier than any mortal, in a way, secure in the knowledge that the worst that can happen is a quick trip two rooms over.

Recklessness is not the same as stupidity, though. If Agatinos gets too used to something, he changes up. He feints, he draws back, he dashes. He feints a feint, and pretends he's not taking a hit that he is. He doesn't fight like a dancer, but he does fight like he's dancing, like this is delightful and exhilarating and exciting and lustful and...

He bleeds like a mortal, he grins like a lunatic, but he fights like a god.

Oh, this is good.

Agatinos isn't as good as Zagreus. But he's good. He's very good at telling a feint from a real attack, even when Zagreus doesn't give him much of a tell. And throughout, he's slicing at Zagreus, giving more than he gets, trying to wear him down and disable him...

which doesn't keep him from eventually overextending, and being very thoroughly impaled for his trouble.

He coughs up some blood, then dissipates.

When he emerges again from the Styx, Zagreus is waiting for him there, bloodied and battered and still grinning and... licking his lips? Not literally but there's something in his eyes.

"You are very good at that," Agatinos comments as he combs his fingers through his damp hair.

"I was taught by the best," he says, eyeing Agatinos up and down.

Agatinos still isn't sure what to do about that! Well, he can blush rather a lot and say "Should we - return to your chambers?"

"An altogether splendid suggestion!"

To his chambers!

Where Agatinos can sit on the bed again and look very unsure of himself!

"Should - I don't know if you need to, um. Take care of. Um." Blush. "Should I... go... elsewhere..."

"If you don't want to participate I'd rather we just go ahead and start bashing some skulls."

"Um - what level of - participation? I, I'm not - I haven't done a lot of this. I could - pose for you?"

Zagreus laughs. "Whatever level you're comfortable with! You fight really well and it was very arousing."

Blush. "I - well."

He unwraps his chiton, not particularly seductive but not going quite as fast as he can, and sets it beside him on the bed. He reclines, to give Zagreus a good view.

His body is lithe - well, actually he's a bit too thin to be lithe. His muscles are less impressive than Zagreus', but they're still pretty well defined. And between his legs, behind his rock-hard, statue-small prick, is a pert-lipped cunt.

Well that's acquiescence if he's ever seen it! "May I...?" he asks, taking a tentative step towards Agatinos.

Agatinos hesitates. "I - yes? You can - touch, but. Slowly?"

He nods and takes a longer, surer set of steps until he's by the bed and right in front of Agatinos. He drops to his knees between Agatinos's legs and looks entranced.

Agatinos - blushes some more, and spreads his legs a little wider, and says, "Do you... like it?"

"It's beautiful. You're beautiful." Agatinos said slow, so he—reaches with a hand, around the shade's dick, watches for reactions...?

He hisses a little at the touch, but clarifies "That feels nice. I'm just - nervous."

"Nervous?"

Zagreus is looking up at Agatinos's face, but he's clearly struggling to keep his gaze there rather than back down. He's definitely licking his lips more often than would be normal, though.

"Well - it's - I haven't done much of this. As, um, an active participant."

"Well, I would love to do more of this with as much of your participation as you want to have." Squeeze.

He breathes. "You can touch wherever. You can - put your mouth - wherever? But - I'd rather not, um. Anything more."

"Your wish, my command," he breathes, and then focuses his attention back between Agatinos's legs. With his permission, Zag very much wants to taste him at the same time as he jerks him off. That is somewhat novel and he wants to make the most of it.

Oh. Oh this is good. This is much better than last time.

Slowly, Agatinos relaxes. He makes happy little noises, moans, occasional breathy half-laughs.

Zag has by now reached down to jerk himself off while he continues to work on Agatinos, and Megaera is nothing but a good instructor so he is very good with his tongue. He does pull away a little bit to say, "Blood and darkness you're hot." And then he resumes.

"I, I can't believe that the Prince of the Underworld is - nnh -" His thighs tighten, but he restrains himself from clenching them around Zagreus' head.

"Going down on you?" he murmurs, his hot breath tickling where his tongue was pressing.

But onwards, he wants to make this incredibly attractive man cum.

Well, if he keeps doing that, then Agatinos will soon be shuddering, clenching and unclenching, and finally - a gush of sweet fluid washes over Zagreus' mouth, and more spills over his hand. It tastes a bit like nectar, and a bit like pure spring water after a long, hot day.

Oh that's hot as fuck and it drives him over the edge himself. He comes onto the floor and into his hand, shuddering and squeezing Agatinos's cock while he does that. "Oh blood and darkness," he cries, pressing his forehead against the edge of the bed for a moment.

Agatinos breathes deeply, still twitching.

"That was - good," he says eventually. "You are very good."

After Zagreus regains his composure he gets to his feet and starts licking his fingers clean. "You are beautiful," he says, for what feels like the fiftieth time today. "And yes, that was very good."

Agatinos shivers happily. "I'm glad we agree, then!" He flops back on the bed. "Also, tiring. Remarkably tiring."

"Do shades need to sleep?" wonders Zagreus, scooting over to also flop on the bed next to him. He reaches down between his legs to grab the last lazy drops of cum and lick them off his fingers absently.

"We can't. It's one of my itemized list of complaints. But we can still tire, and we can still relax."

"You... can't? I mean, I hate sleeping, don't get me wrong, but at least if I ever feel like not dealing with anything for a few hours I can have a shut eye."

He shakes his head. "I've lain awake for hours, praying to anyone who could hear me, but it never comes. Sleep is for the living, they say."

"Well I guess that will be something I'll have to fix."

"You're very - confident. Like you know that you'll get what you want, and it's only a matter of how many times it kills you first."

"If nothing can kill me nothing can really stop me, can it? Or, well, I suppose maybe some gods could trap me somewhere with no means of escape but the solution to that is being so painfully likeable they never have any reason to want that."

"I suppose so. It's just - even if I were unstoppable, I don't know if I'd feel like it. The way you do."

"Why not?" he asks, flipping over to his belly and propping his head up on his elbows, looking at Agatinos.

He considers.

"...I suppose... I would always want what I couldn't get that way more than what I could."

"Like?"

"Love? Or - to be with my river again? I suppose I could get revenge, if I were really unstoppable, but I don't think that would be enough to make me feel safe the way I was before I died - to make me feel like I was home."

"Why do you think you couldn't get those things that way?"

"...if I got love directly by being unstoppable I don't suppose I would like it very much, and if I got it just by someone admiring how unstoppable I was then I don't think that would really select for personality. And - I don't think my river exists anymore, and I don't know if anyone could get it back even if I held a sword to their throat. And... feeling safe, I don't think that's something you can take at swordpoint either. It'd feel - hollow."

"That's not really what I mean by unstoppable, I think. The Olympians could stop me, but they won't, because they do not want to. That is still being unstoppable."

"Hmm. I suppose that I could find love by being unstoppably likeable, then."

"That's the spirit."

Agatinos lies there for a while, but eventually he starts re-pinning his chiton. "Shall we, then?" he asks.

"Yes, let's!" He hops to his feet and starts striding off.

Agatinos finishes getting dressed and follows, materializing his makhairai once his chiton is secure.

Zagreus inspects his displayed weapons and decides to go with the bident. Then he goes to that little glass case with the trinkets and hems and haws while he thinks about what to bring.

"What are those?" Agatinos asks idly.

"Keepsakes," says Zagreus. "Little... gifts of power people have given me." He decides to grab a little owl pendant and wear it. "This one is from Lady Athena," he explains, turning around.

"...huh. How'd the two of you meet?"

"We have not, strictly speaking, met. Nyx told the Olympians that I want to leave—they didn't even know I existed before—and she may have implied that the reason I have for it is to join them." He grins at Agatinos. "So they've been helping me, sending me boons to aid in my attempts."

"...oh. Good."

Agatinos does not sound like he thinks this is Good.

"—do you not like the Olympians? They are admittedly a bit... much..."

"I... met one. Once. Shortly before I died."

...ah.

"They can't really... see... what's going on here. A little, not much, it's more like they are scrying through a foggy pool, or so Nyx tells me. She is casting a veil of night to hide my movements from father, and the Olympians are likewise inhibited. Communicating back with them needs active effort, too."

"So he won't... see me."

"He might... know you're there. Know someone's there, maybe recognise it's you if you left enough of an impression? But he won't see." Whoever 'he' is.

"...alright."

He exhales shakily.

"The Thunderer. Is - the one I'm talking about. He wanted me, and - I didn't want - that. So..."

"...oh, Uncle Zeus," he says, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I suppose he would be your uncle, yes. I hope you aren't - offended."

Zagreus lets out a choked half-laugh and runs a hand through his hair. "No. I—no, not at all. The Olympians, they... don't really..." He sighs. "They don't deal with people who aren't gods very often. Not in a, a more mundane capacity. It's always god of this, deity of that. And I think Uncle Zeus is..." He pauses for a second then shakes his head. "I'm sorry that happened to you."

"Well. Thanks. Anyway, you can see why I'm... a bit wary of gods."

"Yeah. I—yeah. Yeah. I'm sorry, if I had known—" He cuts himself off and runs his hand through his hair again. "I—hope I didn't pressure you—"

"You didn't. Well, not any more than I needed. I've had a lot of time since I died, I'm not - fragile, anymore."

"Well. Good. I am glad. Especially since I would love a rerun, if you'd like."

"Surely not already. Are you a satyr in disguise?"

"Well, no, not right now, we have some shades to temporarily disable on our way to the surface. But, you know, if you look hot while fighting again I might want to tackle you on the way there, fair warning. ...consensually tackle."

"As long as you warn me first so I don't stab you on reflex."

"Well that just sounds hot."

"Putting that aside, you must admit it's not conducive to a successful escape."

"A successful escape is a very long affair that requires many pauses for rest and recovery!"

"You are simply impossible. I will not stab you recreationally during our escape attempt. You may at your leisure try to convince me to stab you recreationally between attempts."

"Oh, fine." He shuts the glass window of his keepsakes' shelf and starts walking. "Let's begin, then."

"Let's!"

Agatinos follows with a bounce in his step.

Zagreus leads the way past an archway to a balcony that overlooks all of Tartarus, looks around, and leaps over the railing of said balcony into the darkness below.

...well, alright.

Agatinos hops down after him.

They land, an imposing (and closed) gate to the House of Hades behind them, the river Styx to either side, and the way to Tartarus ahead.

And right there, waiting for him, is... a pebble. It looks like every other pebble, ordinary and simple and small, and yet...

"What is that."

"Lady Athena, probably. This area here... between my father's realm and Tartarus, Nyx can't or doesn't shield it as much. So the Olympians can immediately see when I favour them." He taps the owl brooch. "...I'll make sure not to pick Zeus's while you're around."

"...I don't want to limit you. And I'm sure his boons are powerful. Please don't - hinder yourself for me."

"Aphrodite's actually my favourite," he stage whispers and winks. "Don't let the others know, though."

Then he shrugs. "Besides, they'll often leave boons lying around regardless of whose keepsake I'm taking anyway. It's mostly this first encounter where they can see... more... that I'd want to spare you from."

"The Lover... I could see that. Well. We may as well go ahead and take the pebble, hmm?"

"Yes, sir."

He walks over to the pebble and grabs it and the air—

—shifts.

There is a weight, a presence. Something like being close to Hades himself, except Hades usually does not bring his full might to bear. The air becomes heavy, almost charged, and if Agatinos's shade form has any hairs on the back of his hands they will be standing on edge.

And the voice of the Pallas echoes, coming from everywhere and nowhere at the same time: "Hail, mighty cousin. I see you've got company. Who is this? Another soul that seems to have been tested in the forges, I can see. Just like yours, if not by as much.

"Godsspeed, cousin, and may these blessings aid you in your quest."

Agatinos shivers all over. "Hail," he murmurs faintly.

Zagreus's eyes go unfocused while he stares at the pebble but he says, "She can't hear you. You need some godly oomph to get a message from here all the way up there. I could send one for you, if you want, but by default. Oh her dash boon, that's good. I'll take that." He squeezes the pebble and his eyes focus on the here and now again, and the presence is gone from the air. And it's back to just the two of them.

"I think on reflection I'm glad that she can't hear me," Agatinos says. "I'd really have no idea what to say."

"Just be deferential and polite, that's how it always goes with Olympians."

"Well. I suppose you'd have more experience with it."

"They don't expect much deference from me, I'm a god, but... Well, it's like I said, Olympians don't really deal with mortals very much. They don't have to." He makes a face.

"Perhaps that's something that can change. I can imagine you hosting visitors when you get to Olympus."

"Not planning to." Pause. "Don't let them know that. But no, I don't want to stay in Olympus. That's just... a convenient excuse Nyx came up with. I will visit, sure, but..."

"Huh. Where, then?" He pauses. "That's probably an incredibly personal question. You don't need to answer it."

"...my mother. Queen... Queen Persephone. May be before your time. But Nyx is not my mother, Persephone is. Goddess of verdure, daughter of Lady Demeter with a mortal man."

"I know of her. She - you... wow."

"It's no wonder I like you," he decides.

"—oh? Care to elaborate?"

"I'm a nymph. We're... not of Persephone, in the way the naiads are of the Tideking or the aurae are of the Thunderer? But we have a certain connection to her. Or at least I do."

"Ha. That makes sense. Well, I've never... met her. Nyx wouldn't explain why she left, said mother should be the one to do it. But she—her—being missing. It's why winters have been so long, so unforgiving. Why summers have been short. Up on the surface, or so I hear. Lady Demeter... grandmother... misses her daughter."

"...I'd heard. About the winter."

Agatinos clenches his teeth for a moment. "I think if she were here I'd have some words for her."

His grimace deepens. "She's an Olympian," is all he says.

"I know."

He flexes his fingers on the hilts of his blades. "Let's move on. I feel unaccountably violent."

"Let's kill some wretches hellbent on killing us, then."

Which they can just proceed to do. The environs of the House do not contain the most martially accomplished souls in the Underworld but they make up for it in numbers and sheer viciousness.

To wit: floating hands, floating skulls, witches, huge legless torsos, and whole skeletons are amongst the wretches wishing to stop them.

Agatinos fights.

It's something he did in life, but not as a calling - he just needed to know how. In death, it became a pursuit, something that distracted him from the unending nightmare of his half-existence, until it didn't anymore. But the skills don't fade, not really. They gather dust, perhaps. But dust blows away.

So they go through the local shades easily and quickly enough. It's always really just a matter of how many shades Hades can get to converge on Zagreus and how long they take to get to him, so he usually gets some breathing room because he is better at killing them than shades are at... walking.

He starts looking around for spoils, ransacking really, breaking vases and the like.

"...do the vases often have anything interesting in them? I thought they were decorative."

"I do not have the faintest idea why, but," and from the pieces of the vase he just destroyed he grabs a couple of golden coins and shows them to Agatinos. "Charon will trade for these, too."

"...utterly bewildering."

Agatinos will assist, though.

"I have a vague suspicion Charon himself might be the one to get these here and he just gets really amused by the mental image of me destroying my father's property for them."