A small clenched hand wiped at a dirty cheek. Sniffled, stifled cries filled the large and dark throne room. “I can’t find my Mama,” the child hiccuped out. Her hands clutch at the filthy rag she wore. “I want my Mama.” The King, The God, The Ruler slowly rose off his throne. Dark robes silently swayed with his movement. His footsteps echoed, sending chills and tremors that sunk deep into her bones. The King stopped directly ahead of her. The Child swallowed, her airway painfully tightening around itself. The King knelt. Rich dark eyes met her gaze. To some, they might find the intensity unsettling - yet The Child only felt a rush of warmth flow through her veins. Her sniffling slowly stopped. Though her tears still streamed down her cheeks, The Child found her breathing deeper. The King tilted his head at her. “Where is she from?” he asked. The Child shifted her feet, about to answer before- “Pompeii, my lord,” an unseen voice said somewhere behind her. “One of the many.” The King bowed his head at that. Sorrowful. Disappointed. The child shifted her feet again. Her hands wrung themselves anxiously. “I’m sorry-” she started. The King abruptly lifted his head. Met her gaze again - cut off her apology. “It wasn’t your fault,” he reminded her. Then, he smiled - a sight that filled her with giddy, buzzy energy. The King straightened to his full height. One of his hands lowered themselves to her eye-level; an invitation. “Come,” he said. “Let’s go find your Mama.” The Child took the offered hand. For every step The King took, she had to take three. Nonetheless, she was happy to be by his side. “What’s your name, child?” The King asked her. “Agata,” she replied. Her head tilted back in an attempt to meet those eyes again. “My name’s Agata.” The King hummed then. He glanced down at her - a smile in his eyes. “I am Hades.”