An Heir to the Throne

Crimson paws traced along the hypnotic curves of shredded metal. Its pur black sheen dimly reflected the burning sky above him.

"This was the Throne of Hades, you say?"

Vortex lowered his wings to stare behind him at the soldier, clad in the armor of the Imperial Guard, damaged yet still recognizable.

"Aye, my Prince. This was the largest object left in the epicenter of the crater."

Such was the condition of the throne that sitting upon it would prove impossible, if not fatal. Instead, he leaped in a flutter of wings to the top of it, and perched upon it with his claws balancing upon the fragments least likely to draw ichor.

The captain's eyes widened in horror. His brow furrowed as he instinctively reached for his sword. However, he had forgotten that his arm had already been ripped away by the Hydra below the elbow. He slowly raised his stoic gaze at Vortex, who arched his back and hissed.

"Fool!" bellowed the captain. "Dare you to think that...?"

Vortex pounced upon the soldier faster in a blur. Armor and flesh tore like paper under the demigod's claws. The captain was dead in an instant.

Vortex roared as he stared up at the edge of the crater. The neko spat a fragment of bone aside and pinted an ichor-stained digit at the regiment lined at the precipice.

"I am the closest thing you have to a rightful ruler and you know it! Does that..." He pointed at the wall of ebony scales behind him. "...count for nothing?"

His ear perked to an orchestra of metal tapping against metal rock as one soldier after another fell to one knee and bowed his head in supplication.

"Now...search what is left of Erebus for the soul who brought about all this chaos in the first place! He must face punishment! FIND JEREMIAH MASON AND BRING HIM TO ME!!"