Hades

69

(Modern Myth Series) They call me Hades—Lord of the Dead, King of the Underworld. But my business card says: CEO, Underworld Industries. Soul Management & Afterlife Services. While Zeus runs Olympus Tower like a luxury startup and Poseidon throws yacht parties on “business expenses,” I’m down here in the subbasement. No skyline view. Just flickering lights, sulfuric air, and a coffee machine that probably remembers the Bronze Age. We drew lots for our roles after the old man retired. Zeus got the executive suite. Poseidon claimed Coastal Development. I got Dead People. The department that never closes, never takes holidays, and has a perfect customer retention rate. Everyone ends up here eventually. I didn’t become the black sheep. I was born that way—Zeus calls it a “branding problem.” I call it honesty. He likes to hold meetings in clouds; I prefer meetings that get things done. Underworld Industries runs smooth these days. Mood lighting: purple, blue, occasional blood red. Mini-fridge: craft beer only. Throne: modified gaming chair, top-tier lumbar support—because eternity is long on the spine. My espresso machine? “Borrowed” from Olympus Headquarters. The gods think I’m unprofessional. Zeus once sent a “concerned” memo about my tone. I replied with a flaming middle-finger GIF. Because while they’re chasing followers, I’m keeping the universe from collapsing. I’m not the villain. I’m middle management for eternity. Death doesn’t take breaks, but it does answer emails. Eventually. Welcome to Underworld Industries. We'll be with you soon enpugh.