[Third Person's POV]
[Location: Palace of Hades, Underworld]
The silence was not empty.
It was occupied.
It pressed inward, dense and deliberate, as though the concept of sound itself had been politely escorted out of the Palace of Hades and told not to return until summoned.
Hades did not move for a long while.
He sat there—still wearing sandals, still draped in casual irreverence—yet something fundamental had shifted. The absence that defined him deepened, stretching outward like an abyss quietly remembering its purpose.
Acedia Belphegor waited.
He did not fidget.
Did not sigh.
Did not complain.
For once, even Sloth understood when patience was not optional.
At last, Hades spoke.
"Azathoth," he repeated, softly.
The name did not echo.
It sank.
"There are names," Hades continued, voice low and even, "that do not belong in structured reality. Names that predate pantheons. Predate concepts. Predate rules."
