The vaunted, untouchable Emet-Selch oversaw death, ferrying the souls of Men to the Aetherial sea, and tasked with making sure it stayed in balance, it's flow undammed and free through the universe. From aether all things sprung, and to aether all things returned -- whether it was Man's creations or Man himself. But some fools had played with concepts that came too close to one side of the line, something that was hungry and ready to tear holes for aether to satiate them. Thus it falls to him to care for the place, to make sure the rogue creations were dispatched and the Aetheric tears they made repaired.

Thus, the man called Hades is absolutely done with any sort of nonsense that requires his work presence, even if he knows full well that if a call for help went out, he would be spurred to action. But what he is this time is ready to rest, to cast off masks and be in the privacy of his own home. Let him simply be Hades for a few hours, with Hades wants and Hades needs.

Right now a nap sounds best. Especially when he knows Hythlodaeus will surely be by after working hours. So that's where he is; head back on the couch, having nodded off sitting there, finally having that spot of rest to let food and drink replenish his aether and body both, rest giving it time to work more effeciently.