So Hades woke up.
The first step was opening his eyes, followed by an instinctive breath. Breathing was useless to him now, but it was symbolic, a sign that he was subjectively beginning to control his body. With that suffocating gasp, his powerful heart began to beat, pumping blood and energy.
Hades abruptly sat bolt upright, startling Malcador, who was sitting on his left calf and smoking.
But the old man only flinched. He then turned aside and coughed up phlegm with a "Hah—ptui!" His body, still pressing down on Hades's left leg, did not move. After cautiously and nervously glancing at Underking, the old man withdrew his gaze and continued smoking with his head lowered.
"You're awake."
Malcador said hoarsely. It was a statement. Choking white smoke curled before his face as Malcador simply smoked.
Hades looked as though he had just awoken from a great dream. He blinked, seemingly still recovering his senses of the world—but everything had begun to change. After some water level rose to its threshold and shattered, he had unconsciously grasped the key to a staircase leading to a higher level.
Underking blinked repeatedly, yet he could no longer see the room he was in. He saw only the faintly burning golden flame beside him, and the small, pale golden words drifting above it.
A familiar scent lingered at his nose, telling Underking that it was Malcador.
It took him a moment to identify the old man. At first, he saw a slightly brighter golden flame. Then that flame grew brighter and brighter, until it resembled a star—
Then, as though something had happened, that golden blaze suddenly exploded. Strange four colors entwined around it, staining the originally golden soul a fanatical, murky gold. After that, blue shackles like chains pierced through the