The Nameless Heir
Chapter 82: A Dream Claimed by a God

Chapter 82: A Dream Claimed by a God

He took a step forward. The water of the River Styx rose and brushed against his skin. It was gentle, like a loyal pet clinging to its owner. Then it began to wrap around his legs, winding slow and sure, pulling him in. Calling him closer.

He didn’t fight it, and he didn’t want to.

He kept walking. Deeper. Slower. The pull grew stronger, and yet his steps felt lighter. Something beneath his skin stirred. The ache in his shoulders began to slip away. The blisters on his palms softened. The scars on his body vanished. He looked down. His hands looked almost new.

He let himself fall back, and the water caught him. He floated without effort. His body felt lighter than it had ever been. The river didn’t just carry him. It held him—quiet, steady—like it wanted him to stay. It didn’t speak, but somehow he understood. He closed his eyes, let the river guide him. He let the Styx decide. He was too tired to care.

He started to sink, but somehow, he could still breathe. He wasn’t cold. He wasn’t even wet. And the pressure didn’t crush him. It was weirdly comforting.

He didn’t panic.

His eyes slid shut, and he let go.

Down he went—deeper... and deeper still.

The shadows clung to him like they were part of him. They curled around his body. They didn’t drag him down, but held him, as if they’d been waiting. As if they were making sure to catch him.

And then, at last, he hit the bottom.

But he didn’t move.

He just lay there, arms slack, eyes closed.

This wasn’t the lowest place in the Underworld—but it was close. The second-deepest pit. A place no one could reach but those who were bound by the river. Down here, the shadows weren’t just dark. They were heavy. Saturated with age. They pressed in on him from all sides, thick and bitter, like the purest form of shadow. The first darkness.

While he lay there, the shadows slipped into him. And he let them.

He didn’t resist. In fact, he helped—drawing them in, guiding them deeper. Not just the shadows, but the minerals buried in the earth around him. Everything the Underworld offered, he pulled into himself.

He focused.

Using what he’d learned from the three brothers—what they taught him at the forge—he began to shape the darkness.

He used the shadows like pressure. Forced them against his bones, compressing them until they cracked—then shattered—only to rebuild them, layer by layer. Each time they broke, they reformed stronger. Denser. Coated in the minerals the Underworld gave freely. He kept going, again and again, until he could break them no more.

The pain was unbearable. It should’ve torn him apart.

But the waters of the River Styx still clung to him. They healed what broke. Over and over. Pain and repair. Break and rebuild.

Until there was nothing left to break. Until he reached perfection.

After everything was done, he fell asleep.

Not the kind of sleep that came from boredom or comfort. This was different. His body just refused to move. He couldn’t even lift a finger. He wasn’t sure if he was drained... or just lazy. But it didn’t matter.

It wasn’t bad.

It felt like laying on a cloud. It was soft, weightless, untouched by pain.

Time slipped.

The next thing he knew, he was floating. No sense of ground beneath him. No sky above.

And then he noticed a red thread.

It came out of his chest, thin and steady, like it was connected to something, waiting to lead him somewhere. Without thinking, he followed it. Drifted after it. The thread didn’t pull him, but only led him.

Eventually, it led him to a door.

When he opened the door, he saw them.

Orion and Selene—back to back, surrounded by shadowy figures. They looked exhausted. Their armor cracked. Their swords broken.

Selene’s breath was ragged. Orion’s stance was steady, but barely. The fight had dragged on too long.

A deep voice echoed through the room.

"I control this dream realm."

The shadows around Orion and Selene flinched—barely—but Kael noticed.

Something in his tone made even the formless lean back.

"You thought you could escape me."

It spoke slowly now, like it was savoring the taste of those words. The voice curled around the space like smoke—calm, but cruel.

"You can’t hide forever."

It was slow. Deep. A voice that carried the weight of something old, even older than the gods. It didn’t rise or command. It pressed down. The kind of sound that didn’t strike; it suppressed.

And it was familiar.

Too familiar.

That same bone-shivering echo—the one that once belonged to Kronos.

But it wasn’t Kronos.

It was Iapetus.

Kael didn’t flinch.

It wasn’t fear that stirred in his chest. It was something else.

Excitement.

The kind that sharpened his breath and made the blood move faster.

Because now he could see it clearly.

This wasn’t just some shadow or dream. This was a Titan. Something even the gods had failed to destroy. And Kael wanted to face it.

Not just to survive it. To test the new version of himself. To see how far he’d come.

To carve his name into the world—not as a prince, not as a god of the Underworld—but as the one who stood alone and killed a Titan.

"A failed imitation of Hades," Kael said flatly as he stepped through the doorway. "Loud for something so beneath him."

His shadows moved before he did—silent, merciless—driving through the nightmare figures like they were nothing. No resistance. No sound. Just clean destruction.

He kept walking.

"You must’ve forgotten," he said, voice low, eyes unreadable, "I’m the son of Hades, and I am not dead."

Another step.

"I’m the current god of the Underworld. Present. Aware. Watching."

The shadows curled tighter at his back—ready, waiting.

"Cowards who hide behind their kidnapped victims don’t interest me," Kael said, voice steady, empty of effort.

He paused.

"But cowards who pretend to rule in my place..."

His gaze narrowed. The words carried weight—measured, heavy with pride.

"Not just disrespecting my father... but me."

"Damn you, son of Hades. How did you enter the dream realm?" The words escaped between his teeth.

He ignored Iapetus. He didn’t feel like he deserved his attention, so he walked toward Selene and Orion.

"You two alright?" he asked, glancing between them.

A small smile tugged at his lips. It was tired, but he meant it. He was glad they were safe. And he was even more relieved that he wasn’t too late.

But he still didn’t know how he got here. But he was glad.

And this time, he didn’t need Hypnos’s help to reach them.

"Kael? How are you here?" Orion asked, still panicking. His eyes jumped between Kael and the shifting dark behind them.

Before Kael could answer, Selene stepped in and hugged him. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to. She was glad to see him.

Kael held her for a second, then stepped back.

"I’m not sure how long I’ve got," he said quietly. "But now both of you take this."

He handed them a bracelet and an earring, each wrapped in shadow.

"As long as you have those weapons, Iapetus won’t be able to track you. He won’t even be able to hunt you in your dreams."

Then he turned toward the sound of Iapetus’s voice.

"And you be patient," he said calmly, "I’ll kill you on the day of the summer solstice."

A slow smile spread across his face.

"You can apologize to me now, for daring to imagine yourself king, and I might be kind enough to tear you apart slowly."

"I will kill you!" The Titan’s voice cracked through the dream.

Kael spoke over him like he hadn’t heard a word.

"You’re all talk," he said, eyes narrowing. "Cowards bark from safe places. You’re no different."

He took a slow breath, then snapped his fingers.

"Get out of my face. Your voice annoys me. It reminds me of someone I dislike."

Right then and there, another voice broke through.

"Kael, come up here right now before I evaporate this entire river!"

He froze.

He knew that voice.

It was Liz. And she was angry. Not the usual kind. This was the dangerous kind—furious, sharp, and absolutely done with waiting.

He had no idea how she got here. No clue how she managed to cut through the dream.

But somehow... she had.

He let out a slow breath, dragging a hand down his face.

"She’s going to kill me for ditching her in bed," he muttered under his breath.

He looked at Selene and Orion, then toward the sound above.

"Well, I should probably go," he muttered under his breath.

He turned to Orion and Selene again.

"But don’t worry. He won’t bother you for a while," he said softly, assuring them of their safety.

He stepped closer and tapped them both gently on the forehead.

"Get a good night’s sleep now."

The world around them shifted.

The dark haze lifted, peeling away like mist at dawn. In its place, a wide field stretched beneath the sun. Quiet. Open. The grass moved gently with the wind, its color somewhere between gold and fire.

Orion and Selene lay in the grass peacefully, sleeping next to each other. Safe and quiet.

"I will count to three. If you don’t come up here now—"

Kael glanced one last time at Orion and Selene.

"Well... I gotta go," he muttered. "She’s angry."

"Three."

He stepped through the door, shadows curling behind him. With a flick of his fingers, he locked it—sealing the dream tight so nothing else could enter.

"Two."

He shot forward, following the thread in his chest, faster now.

"One."