ตื่นขึ้นมาเป็นเทพเจ้า: ปฏิเสธที่จะเป็นข้ารับใช้ของยมทูต

For a thousand years, Hades loved his wife—until a lowly water nymph caught his eye. He pushed his goddess into the abyss, pierced her chest, and drained her divine blood. He was sure she'd never leave. The pomegranate seeds she ate in the underworld bound her to him. But he forgot one thing. Every time she wept, one of the ninety-nine sacred flames he'd once sworn by flickered out. Silent. Unnoticed. Until only one remained. Then she snuffed it out herself. The divine bond shattered. The underworld froze solid. Hades' godhood cracked—and he knelt before the pantheon, begging for her return. She sat high on her throne, scarred and radiant, and looked down with a smile sharper than any blade. "Want me back?" she whispered. "Prove it. Disappear. Turn to ash. Then maybe—maybe—I'll consider it."