On the next floor, Hades approached a metal door. He placed his hand on a purple stone above the door handle. The stone glowed beneath his palm until the door clicked.

He stepped back as the door opened. “This is the vault where I keep the most powerful relics that no mortal can touch.”

“I thought this is the armory?” Roger asked.

“It is,” Persephone answered with a grin.

“Actually, it is both,” Hades corrected. “It does have an armory where I left the powerful weapons at. Organizing is part of my hobby.”

“Okay then," said Roger.

Hades turned to his wife. "Love, will you please guard the outside, please?"

Persephone bowed. "Anything for you, darling."

Roger's face cringed. Did he brainwash her?

Hades turned toward him. “And you, do not touch anything, or you will never see daylight again."

Roger stepped back and nodded, feeling Hade’s tone chilled through his blood. He reminded Roger of his father, who warned him not to touch the art displays at a museum. Since then, Roger touched nothing without a person’s permission.

Inside the chamber, hundreds of artifacts rested on shelves, standing in rows throughout the enormous room. One of them was a shield with Medusa’s face on it. Three golden apples that looked like real fruit, but probably solid as glass. A staff covered in flowers and vines laid near the apples, and a long pink bow stood at the bottom.

Roger didn’t recognize the items, but he assumed they were all legendary items used by the Greek Gods and heroes. Maybe Hades collected them after the heroes died to protect them from greedy people. Whoever could wheel those weapons could become a superhero or a supervillain.

Hanging on a shelf was a golden wool, sparkling as if stars twinkling on it. Roger stepped toward it while keeping his hands down. "What is that?"

Hades gazed at him and checked the wool. “That is the Golden Fleece of Chrysomallus. King Pelias requested Jason and his Argonaut companions to retrieve the fleece from the golden ram. After the king died, my Furies took the fleece and delivered it to me. Poseidon wished me to keep his son’s skin safe from the mortal tyrants."

"Why couldn't he keep it?" Roger asked.

Hades struggled. "He doesn't trust his own siblings. I am the only one who doesn't give a damn about our family. But I respected the balance of both worlds from falling apart. Now over here."

Roger continued to follow the god of death, but his curiosity stirred inside him. "Hades, I have so many questions to ask you."

Hades groaned. "And I have so many no f**ks to give."

Roger dropped his mouth. "But-"

Hades spun on his heel and glared into Roger's face. "Listen, mortal. Restoring the balance of the Underworld is more important than your foolish questions. The more we talk, the more time your world will suffer. You can ask me later if that will make you feel better."

Roger frowned. Maybe he should focus on the mission more than on discovering the true history of the gods. Still, he hated what Hades did to Katina, Cilla, and Labda.

"Ah! Here it is." Hades snarled a grin as he approached a tall grey cabinet, which looked like an iron maiden torture device. Shaped in a tapered hexagon with round edges and a skull on top.

Hades pulled open the cabinet, revealing a black iron helmet, a black linothorax suit with spiked shoulder plates, and a dark pitchfork with two-pronged blades on the iron rod.

He took the helmet and brought it toward Roger. “This is my Helm of Darkness. It will make you invisible to the enemies’ eyes.”

Roger studied the horns on the helmet. “Are you giving me your armor?”

“No, you idiot. You are burrowing it to fight King Acrisius. My suit will protect you from all weapons, and my bident will create earthquakes below your feet.”

Roger dazed into bewilderment. “Why can’t you fight Acrisius? I am only mortal!”

Hades placed his helmet on Roger’s palms. “I don’t have time to fight him. My Tartarus needs to be liberated first so-”

Persephone screamed from the doorway. It sounded like she was in trouble, although she was a goddess.

Hade shoved his helmet against Roger’s chest. “Just put the damn thing on and help me rescue my wife! Do you want to be a hero?”

Roger gazed at the helmet and Hade’s suit. Does he really have a choice without angering the god?