The scent seems stronger than just the flowers. Everything seems a bit warmer, a warmth that comes with his wife's presence. It's unmistakable; her presence is here, could she be here too?

As he followed the warmth, looking for the face he always longed for, he came to a woman he was unfamiliar with, but he knew without a doubt was Persephone. Hades' brows creased as he watched her, no, not his wife, but also his wife at the same time.

"You're not my Persephone, are you?" There was something more profound to her, darker. It was as if they'd used the dead to till the fields. A slight decay that he was sure only he could sense.