Arena's Victor: The God of Darkness |The Anak Series| [COMPLETED!]

Mourning

Dark. Terrifying. Gloomy. Silent. Words that were placed as descriptions of the Underworld. The Palace of the Dead. The afterlife.

The only sources of light coming from the King's Castle itself; and the heaven underneath, known as - Elysium.

Each section of the Underworld was distinguished. From the grayed, dull lifelessness of the Fields of Asphodel, to the quiet screams of the tormented, who lived in the Fields of Punishment on the other side of the barren lands.

The Underworld was dark. But not nearly close enough to the consuming darkness of Tartarus. The Underworld was terrifying. Yet not as terrifying as Tartarus. Simply put, the Underworld was Elysium when compared to the horrors of Tartarus.

The Underworld was one of three entrances into the hell of all hells. Across the lands of the dead, the caves travel deeper than the Fields of Punishment. Only once you start your slip into the Pit do you realize how far you have traveled.

No monster, demigod, nor deity that lived upon Earth, was insane enough to near the Pit. Not a single being, for the fear to slip into your greatest mistake, was undetectable and understandably - inevitable.

Yet as no eyes were watching, a lone being sat atop the Pit. His legs dangling like limp blades, dancing across the opening in the caves of the Underworld.

Fear did not drip from him as he casted a long glance into the Pit. The forever darkness almost soothing in a way as the memories he experienced slowly faded away. Fading into the darkness below.

Tears did not rain from his eyes, nor did any anger threaten to pierce his body. Knowledge of a Titaness' long fading the only comfort that warmed the void in his chest.

His purple orbs shifted from the pit to the darkened paths of the Underworld. He knew his return would be nothing close to quiet. If anything, almost every being upon Olympus would most likely have heard the news.

He seemed to sit in his spot for eternity, thoughts after thoughts rushed through his mind. Pondering... thinking.

He breathed in slowly, gathering the oxygen in the air. Relishing in it, the calmness, the peace. Something he had next to none of as he governed the Pit.

As much as he enjoyed the relaxing atmosphere, he knew he must move. He had no choice in the matter if anything - he was slightly excited to begin his journey into the Underworld.

And so, he began his small voyage, his small trek across Greece's hell. One step after another, his eyes flicking to each region of the large cavern. Scanning, observing, watching for anything that posed as a threat.

Hours upon hours he trekked quickly across the lands. Taking small strides, taking slow steps, but moving at speeds seemingly impossible. Flashes of a dark purple glow appearing whenever he took a step.

The Underworld was terrifyingly large, its reputation most definitely belittling the size of Greek's Hell. Take the simple population of souls in the Underworld into retrospect, the man could feel all movement and could sense every being that walked amongst the darkness.

About 100 billion souls. A landmass to cover that entire space to fit the number of souls would be the size of Earth tenfold. That is how large the Underworld is; it is not understandably below Earth. Hell is a dimension of sorts, there are gates into it and Death is the world's guide.

He halted his expedition as the barren lands seemed to gray, taking a bland tone. His eyes glinted purple as he scanned across a gray sea of an emotionless population. They were crowded, and their eyes—lifeless.

As he looked far past those who seemed to swim slowly around each other, he spotted the next segment of the Underworld. It was darker than the endless gray of the Fields of Asphodel, but it did not hold the screams and red-tainted lands that the Fields of Punishment possessed.