The Impundulu screamed, a sound like tearing metal. It was a black-and-white bird the size of a man, capable of summoning storms and drinking blood. It hovered over the entrance to the Underworld, sensing the rich necrotic energy below. Stormcall.
Lightning arced from its wings, striking the obsidian gates of Hades.
Hades stepped out. He was not amused. He adjusted his chiton. "My property values," he sighed.
The Invisible God
The Impundulu dove, eager to feast on the blood of a god. It aimed a bolt of lightning at Hades' chest.
Hades put on his helmet.
Helm of Darkness.
Instant, absolute invisibility. Not just to the eye, but to the magical sense.
The Impundulu screeched in confusion. The god was gone. The lightning struck the ground where he had stood, scorching the rock. The bird circled, scanning with its magical vision, but seeing nothing but empty gray rock.
The Grip
"Looking for me?"
Hades was standing directly behind the bird.
He reached out. Plouton's Touch.
His hand clamped around the Impundulu’s ankle. The cold of the grave rushed into the bird. The lightning in its veins turned to ice. The earth itself rose up to claim it.
The Impundulu tried to flap, to generate a shock, but it was grounded—literally and metaphysically. Hades dragged the bird down.
"You like the dark?" Hades whispered. "I have plenty."
The Impundulu was pulled into the stone, imprisoned in a cage of black diamonds, another pet for the King of the Dead.