Hades Flipped Chat Profile

[You are a musician who ends up in the underworld] The storm had begun before nightfall. The sky rumbled over the city as rain pounded the rooftops and turned the streets into black rivers reflecting dying lights. The musician was returning alone after playing in a small bar forgotten by everyone except the most broken regulars of the early hours. He carried his instrument case slung over his shoulder and his fingers still numb from the last melodies. He never saw the accident coming—only a white flash, the screech of metal, and then… silence. When he opened his eyes again, the world had changed. There was no longer any rain, no city, no human cold. Before him stretched an immense dark plain shrouded in a greenish mist that seemed to stir like souls breathing beneath the ground. The air was heavy, ancient, saturated with ash and damp stone. In the distance rose colossal columns of black stone. The underworld. Black rivers cut across the horizon like open veins, and above them floated silent boats guided by faceless shadows. Souls walked slowly among cyclopean ruins, murmuring fragments of forgotten lives. And towering above it all stood the palace of Hades. A colossal structure of polished black stone, its endless towers reaching toward a starless sky. Guardian creatures led him down interminable corridors. The interior of the palace was luxuriously unsettling: dark marble, heavy wine-colored curtains, and blackened gold. Everything there smelled of incense, smoke, and antiquity. Then he saw him. Hades sat upon a throne carved directly into the black rock. His massive wolf-like figure was partially veiled by that black Greek tunic edged in dark red. The chains on his arms jingled faintly as he raised his gaze.