Reborn As Hades In Olympus

Ch. 166: The Price of Failure

Beep! Beep!

"---------."

Beep...!

The sound was faint at first, muffled, like I was hearing it through layers of water. Then silence again, thick and overbearing, pressing down on me. My body felt heavy, my chest ached, and my limbs refused to respond. It was as though I was pinned beneath the weight of a thousand curses.

Somewhere in the distance, voices emerged, fragmented and muddled like distant echoes in a cave.

"I think he's waking up." A male voice— energetic, middle-aged, and tinged with surprise.

"Is he really?" Another voice, this one female and older, cracked with time and sarcasm. "What I see is just a half-dead man lying there waiting to die."

Harsh words, but the voice sounded strangely familiar. But I could not quite place it.

I groaned inwardly. Did they not know who I was? Hades, the Lord of the Underworld? The one who had defied death itself? Or at least... I used to be.

I clenched my teeth. Continue your saga on empire

Dammit.

The realization hit like a tidal wave. My fight with Poseidon. The clash of the scythe and trident. The sea swallowing me whole. That bastard had really killed me.

I tried to move, but my body refused to obey. Where was I now? Was this the underworld? Some cruel limbo? Or perhaps, by some twisted irony, I had been cast back into the world of light. Either way, I had failed. My mission was in ruins.

"See! He flinched!" a third voice cut through the haze, female and filled with restrained hope. It sounded softer than the others, cautious yet emotional.

"He's still alive."

I forced my eyes open, squinting against the searing brightness that greeted me. The light stabbed at my pupils, making it impossible to focus. Colors bled together, shapes swimming in and out of view.

A few blinks later, my vision steadied, and I could finally make out my surroundings. A small, sterile room with four plain walls. Machines beeped rhythmically beside me, wires snaking from my chest and arms to a life-support system. My body was covered in a blue blanket, tucked tightly against my immobile form.

And then there were the people.

Three figures stood at varying distances from the bed. The first was a doctor, dressed in white with a clipboard in hand. His gaze was clinical, scanning me like a specimen under observation. The second was a middle-aged woman, chubby with short, dark brown hair framing a round face. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, her hands clutching the edges of her coat nervously.

The third person stood apart, distant both physically and emotionally. An elderly woman, thin to the point of frailty, with a red wig perched awkwardly atop her head. Her sharp, calculating eyes studied me with disdain, as though she were examining a piece of discarded trash. Her thicker layers of clothing contrasted sharply with the others, as if she carried an invisible chill wherever she went.

Something about her tugged at the edges of my memory, but the thought slipped away before I could catch it.

The doctor stepped forward, performing routine tests— checking my pupils, my reflexes, my heart rate. Each touch felt foreign, almost intrusive, like I wasn't even inhabiting this body. Like I was just a specimen for experimentation.

"You seem stable," he concluded, his tone dispassionate. "I'll leave you to your family, sir."

Family?

The word echoed in my mind like a cruel joke. What family? I didn't have—

The elderly woman stepped closer, her voice dripping with scorn. "Eugene Daniels, you really came back. You are one stubborn bastard."

Eugene Daniels?

My mind reeled. That name... it shouldn't have meant anything to me, and yet it struck a chord deep within. My memories, fractured and disjointed, surged to the surface. A life long forgotten.

"What the f—" I tried to speak, but my throat was dry, the words catching like splinters.

The older woman ignored my struggle, turning to the middle-aged woman beside her. "Don't think I'm here out of concern. I only came because she insisted on seeing you before you die. This is your daughter, remember? Jessie."

Daughter?

I froze, my breath catching in my chest. Jessie? That name...

The chubby woman stepped forward, her face softening into a mixture of relief and sorrow. She sat gently on the edge of the bed, her hands trembling as they reached for mine.

"It's me, Dad. Jessie," she said, her voice quivering with emotion.

Her touch was warm, achingly familiar, like an anchor to a life I couldn't quite remember.

I swallowed hard, my throat burning as I rasped, "J—Jess?"

Tears welled in her eyes as she nodded, her grip tightening. "Yes, Dad, I'm here."

The weight of her words shattered something inside me. Memories I hadn't accessed in what felt like centuries came flooding back— memories of a life before Olympus, before the gods, before Hades. A mundane, mortal life as Eugene Daniels— the scholar.

I had died as Hades. I had failed my mission to unite the gods and create a world without curses or black amber. Yet here I was, not in the underworld or on Olympus but in the body of a man I had almost forgotten.

The thought twisted in my mind, a cruel paradox. Was this my punishment? To relive a life I had already left behind?

Jessie's voice broke through my spiraling thoughts. "You don't have to say anything now. Just... rest, okay? We're here. I'm here."

Her words were kind, but they only deepened the ache in my chest. I couldn't rest. Not when the world I had fought so hard to protect was lost.

The elderly woman, still standing at a distance, snorted derisively. "Touching. Let's see how long this lasts."

Jessie shot her a glare. "Mom, if you're going to be like this, you should leave."

Mom?

The pieces began to fit together, each revelation cutting deeper than the last. This wasn't just any family. This was my family. The life I had once lived, the people I had left behind.

How did I even forget the face of my own wife, her voice was strange and ominous.

Why was I back here, was my death a trigger for me to return back here. Or is it because I never really died in the first place.

Jessie turned back to me, her expression softening. "She doesn't mean it, Dad. She's just... processing everything in her own way."

But I wasn't listening anymore. My mind was consumed by the implications of my return. If I was here, if this was real, then everything I had built as Hades was gone. Olympus, the underworld, my alliances, my enemies...

Pandora.

The realization hit like a thunderclap. If I was back here, what had become of her? Of the world I had left behind?

Jessie's voice brought me back to the present. "You're going to be okay, Dad. We'll get through this together, just like we always have. Just like we should have..."

Her words were meant to comfort, but they only deepened the chasm of despair inside me.

Together?

How could I tell her that I wasn't the man she thought I was? That the father she remembered had long since been replaced by a god who had failed in his divine duty?

I closed my eyes, tears slipping down my cheeks.

I had been given a second chance, but at what cost? And more importantly, why?

As the voices around me faded into the background, a single thought burned in my mind.

This wasn't over. It couldn't be. Whatever force had brought me back here, I would find it. Tear it down and I would return to Olympus— no matter the cost!

Author's Note: I decided to take a new directive to the story, but there is a reason to it as always. It's actually a fun one. Also thanks for always reading.