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In the house of Hades, the various servants of the God of The Dead had been summoned to their Lord and Master as he sat in a private quarter of the Administrative Chamber. There they bore witness to a terrifying sight.
Hades' preferred drinking vessel, a cup made from fired clay and decorated with a design of his favourite and most loyal servant, the three-headed beast Cerberus had been shattered. It's ceramic remains arranged in a pile on the desk as the Lord of the house gave a withering glance at all he had gathered. “So,” the god began “Who broke it?” He asked, his tone agonizingly calm considering the circumstances “I am not angry. I merely wish to be informed.”
Ever nervous, the head of the gorgon Dusa was the first to have their nerves break under Hades' glare “I-I did!” The maid squeaked “I-”
“No,” the God of the Dead interrupted, raising a solemn hand to cease Dusa's panic “No you didn't.” Hades corrected, before turning his glance to one of the more likely suspects.
“Don't look at me!” Hypnos jumped, snapping out of his slumber “Look at Than.” He suggested.
“What?” The God of Death snapped “I did not break Hades' mug.”
“That's weird, how did you even know it was broken?” Hypnos needled, desperate to get attention on his brother.
“Because we're all here looking at it and it's broken.” Thanatos explained, his voice getting more annoyed with each word spoken.
“...Suspicious behaviour.” The God of Sleep whispered to his co-conspirator, the ever-unlucky Orpheus.
“No, it's not.” Thanatos insisted before Achilles interjected.
“Not that it's proof of anything,” the hero began “But Megaera was the last one I saw in that area of the chamber.”
“Achilles, you know I don't drink that brown gunk from the surface.” The Fury sister growled.
“Oh, then perhaps you can explain why you were passing by Daedalus' coffee machine?” Achilles asked, now assuming a more accusatory posture and tone.
“I was collecting the purified water of the Styx for my sisters,” Megaera informed the fallen hero, one hand reaching for her whip “Everyone knows that Achilles.”
“Stop, stop!” Dusa floated in, trying to get her head in between the increasingly hostile fury and hero, the snakes assisting her as she pushed in “It's my fault, I broke it, let me get you a new one Lord Hades!”
“No!” Boomed the God of the Dead, pounding his fist on the wood with such ferocity that the sound could be heard in Elysium “I will not have false confessions in my halls, now: Who. Broke. It?”
“...Lord Hades,” The court musician, Orpheus began in hushed tones “Prince Zagreus has been eerily quiet this conversation.”
“Really!?” The Prince yelled, signalling the end of the discussion and the beginning of the infernal row. Everyone was loudly arguing and reaching for their weapons, but no-one had noticed that the Lord and Master of the house had surreptitiously vanished, instead opting to retire to his primary occupation and manage the line of Shades that had accumulated.
“You broke it, didn't you?” Nyx, the Mother of Night sighed from Hades' side.
“Of course. It burned my hand, so I smashed it,” The God of the Dead admitted, earning a sad whine from the hell-hound dutifully sitting next to him “It wasn't your fault Cerberus, pottery doesn't last forever, not even down here. A replacement shouldn't be difficult to obtain.” He assured the fiendish dog.
“Then why bother yourself asking everyone?” Nyx asked.
“They need to learn a lesson in honesty. All knew themselves to be innocent but were quick to turn on one another,” Hades answered, a satisfied smile hidden by his immense facial hair “If that lesson requires my servants to learn a few things the hard way? So be it.” The God of the Dead chuckled, eagerly awaiting the first person to emerge from the Pool of Styx. Perhaps he should have consulted Charon, together they might have been able to get a betting pool going.