And in keeping with tradition, a x-over with whatever fandom I'm currently drowning in. This time, Darksiders. Raise your hand if you're surprised.

o o o

Hades received word of the visitor seconds before the visitor himself strode in. The fireball he'd readied when the doors to his chamber started to open died in his palm once he saw who it was. Instead he sat back with a pleased smile that was in no way settling. "Why, Thanatos," he said, gesturing as the pale Rider shoved his way into the room. "Welcome home. Wait, wait, wait, let me guess." He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Am I 'overstepping my bounds' this time, or just 'pushing my luck'?"

"Your insolence pushes my patience," came Death's cold reply, and a bony hand tightened on his scythe.

"Insolence?" Hades barked, leaning forward. "Who's the insolent one here? You're in my realm, boy, and I think you need to remember who it is that made you."

"I know well who made me," Death retorted. "But I think you forget what it is that you made, and you forget your duties. We care not for your squabbles with your brethren in this world, but your deals with outside forces must stop."

"Deals, what deals?" Hades demanded, looking around. "I don't see any outsiders here, do you?"

"We know you have plotted with the fae Maleficent, the sea-witch Ursula and the sorcerer Jafar, to bring Darkness to this realm."

Hades made a face. "I think I liked it better when you were just a Keybearer," he groused. "You were a lot less mouthy." He pushed up from his throne, gesturing again as he walked. "Yeah, so I made a few friends on the outside. So what? They're all dead now, thanks to that brat with the Keyblade, and the realm of Light is still chock full of light, blah blah blah. By the way, you might wanna take a look at that kid. He's flashy enough to take up Conquest's old spot."

Death ignored the comment about the Keybearer. "This is your final warning," he said flatly. "If you allow your ambitions to carry you beyond this world, or your duties in maintaining the Underworld, you will be replaced. Azrael stands next in line for the Underworld's throne."

Hades snorted derisively. "The little death-sparrow doesn't know a damn thing about running a realm. He'd be overthrown within a week." He squinted at Death, contemplative. "I would have thought you were next in line, being my creation and all."

"I gave up all of my inheritances when I accepted the role of the Pale Horseman," was Death's reply. "Remember this warning, Hades. My brothers and I shall see you soon if you don't." He turned, cloak flapping around his ankles.

"Wait," Hades ordered. Death paused, a bare sliver of his face visible over his shoulder. "I hear that the Horsemen are getting a bit arrogant with the Council," he said smoothly. "And the Council doesn't like upstarts. Better watch your step, Thanatos, because if I can be replaced, so can you."

"Many claim to be the Lord of the Dead," Death replied, deadly soft. "But only you have the audacity to name one of your creations as Death itself. Until another god dares, my place is secure." Then he was gone, and the clap of the great stone doors shutting in his wake wasn't loud enough to mask the sound of hoof beats.