The Tragedy of Oedipus - (Final)
Familiar sensations and a shifting view—these were signs that I had possessed a human body. Black energy emanated from all around me, confirming that I had taken control.
“Oh...? Could it be...?” “Lord Hades...?”
The surrounding priests quickly bowed their heads in reverence. As I made my way through the temple, I saw before me the crazed king of Thebes.
“Haa...”
It was clear that King Oedipus had been granted power by Gaia. Once a hero celebrated for his wit in defeating the Sphinx and a wise ruler, he was now a madman.
Without recognizing that a god had descended into a human body, Oedipus charged at me—no, perhaps he didn’t recognize me at all, his mind completely surrendered to madness.
“Hyaah!”
Boom!
As he lunged at me, I simply extended a hand and released divine power. No matter how powerful he had become among mortals, he was not strong enough to challenge a god, even one inhabiting a human body.
Crash!
Oedipus was sent rolling across the ground by the wave of divine energy, struggling to rise again. For a brief moment, his eyes reflected confusion.
This madness was not the kind induced by Dionysus; it was a madness that could be shaken off with repeated shocks.
Boom!
“Guh!”
But to burn temples and slaughter the people of Thebes? It was clear that only someone whose mind had become dangerously unstable could commit such acts.
Oedipus staggered to his feet once more.
“Are you regaining some sense now?”
“Hah... Hades... god...”
The madman looked at me directly.
“You are filled with sorrow. I will listen to your story.”
“Hah...”
Gaia’s curse had merely sparked the fire that was already smoldering in the pile of emotional kindling within him.
As Oedipus looked at me once again, a brief flicker of sanity returned to his eyes. He glanced between the black divine energy surrounding us and my eyes, then slowly raised his sword to his own arm.
Slice.
“Gaaah!”
“King Oedipus... he’s cutting off his own arm...” “What?!" “What is happening...?!”
Oedipus fell to one knee, gritting his teeth. By cutting off his own arm, he had briefly freed himself from the influence of madness, and he looked at me with clear eyes at last.
Finally, the king of Thebes, his eyes filled with clarity, bowed his head.
“O god of mercy, Pluto.”
But along with that clarity came a torrent of emotions—sorrow, anger, self-loathing, guilt, resentment, despair...
“Do not show me mercy... I am a sinner... Hah, ha...”
A flood of all the negative emotions one could imagine. What on earth had happened to him before Gaia’s curse took hold?
But regardless, his crimes were enough to warrant his judgment in the underworld. Concentrating power in my hand, I stepped toward the kneeling man.
“In your current state, it will be difficult to converse. We will talk again shortly.”
“I’m sorry... Mother.”
Swish.
Thud. Roll.
Oedipus’s head rolled across the ground, his body offering no resistance as if he had resigned himself to his fate. For a man who had burned the temple of Dionysus and murdered countless citizens in a fit of madness, his end was unexpectedly anticlimactic.
I watched his head roll for a moment before turning to observe the humans around me. Fearful that divine punishment might befall them, the citizens of Thebes avoided meeting my gaze.
“Lord Pluto...” “Show us mercy...”
The priests of the temple quietly closed their eyes and clasped their hands in prayer. I noticed that one of the newer priests was weeping with reverence.
“...Not one of you fled from the temple. I will remember your devotion.”
With those final words, I returned my consciousness to the underworld.
Back in the underworld, I found myself surrounded by gods with stern expressions. They had all gathered upon hearing what had transpired in Thebes.
“Thanatos, please summon King Oedipus immediately. Also, bring Judge Minos.”
“Understood.”
“Shall I bring the waters of Lethe?”
“Goddess Mnemosyne, I don’t believe that will be necessary.”
From what I had seen in Oedipus’s eyes in the mortal realm, he would likely retain his memories even after crossing the river of forgetfulness. It was time to hear his side of the story.
Soon, Thanatos dragged Oedipus’s soul before me. Though the madness was no longer visible in his eyes, they were still filled with a storm of emotions.
“I will listen to your story, and then, in consultation with Judge Minos, we will determine your punishment.”
“.....”
“Speak freely, without reservation. Even if you wish to curse Zeus, it matters not to me.”
At these words, Oedipus slowly began to speak.
“I killed my father and lay with my mother, even siring children with her.”
In a hoarse, trembling voice, he recounted his life’s journey—from being raised as a prince of Corinth, to killing his father in the chariot, to Thebes, the Sphinx, and his mother-wife Jocasta.
He spoke of the truth revealed by the prophet Tiresias, and of the power granted to him by someone who claimed to be Gaia.
Oedipus fell silent after recounting his tale. Had it not been for Gaia’s influence driving him to burn the temples and murder people, his guilt would have been greatly reduced.
“Gaia filled your mind with wicked thoughts.”
“At first, my head was indeed filled with resentment toward the gods, but at some point, my own will became involved.”
Oedipus admitted that he had given in to the madness.
Why? While it’s true that resisting such madness is no easy feat...
“Were you angry at Apollo, the god who made the prophecy?”
“He merely revealed to me the future that was already fated.”
“Then, did you harbor anger toward Ares, who placed the curse upon the Theban royal family?”
“If someone had killed my child, I might have cursed them as well.”
“And what about Gaia, who drove you to ruin? Do you believe she is to blame?”
“She merely redirected the flames that were already burning.”
He says this, yet it’s clear he held some resentment toward the gods. While caught in madness, he had indeed lashed out against the Olympians by destroying temples.
But... perhaps his other desires were so overwhelming that he had no room left to blame the gods. It was time to confirm my suspicions.
“Then, what is it that you desire?”
“I wish to be punished for the heinous crimes I committed—killing my father, lying with my mother, burning the temples, and slaughtering the citizens of Thebes.”
Perhaps he had wanted divine punishment all along. Despite committing the horrific acts of patricide and incest, the Furies had not tormented him. Likely, this was because his crimes had no malice or intent, but did that only make Oedipus feel more miserable?
“You do not claim that it was Gaia’s curse that drove you to kill those people.”
“...I’m sorry.”
Did he believe that only by receiving a cruel and harsh divine punishment for his heinous crimes could he truly atone?
Human minds are far more fragile and unstable than those of the gods. When pushed to their limits, they often choose self-destruction.
Sometimes, those who overcome such trials are hailed as heroes among heroes... but Oedipus was not so fortunate.
Human emotions are complex, and there are times when even they do not know what they truly want.
Especially a human whose mind was already broken and further tainted by Gaia’s madness...
“Please, deliver my punishment.”
“Your punishment is not something that can be decided quickly. It will be postponed for now.”
Was it not the madness that drove him to his actions? Or was he pleading with the gods to punish him because he had willingly embraced that madness?
Oedipus was led out under heavy guard by the soul-wardens.
After dismissing the other gods, I called Judge Minos to consult with him. Although his two brothers were too busy judging other souls to attend, Minos alone was more than capable of offering sound advice.
“Minos, what do you think?”
“I believe the severity of his punishment should be determined by how much Gaia’s curse influenced his mind.”
“And?”
“Beyond that, we must consider the desecration of the temples, the prophecy of tragedy, his contributions to Thebes, and the lives he took.”
Minos was right.
When Oedipus slaughtered people and burned temples, the balance between his intentions and the madness induced by the curse must be carefully considered.
I needed to make the fairest judgment possible.
“Gaia likely tempted him by claiming that everything was the gods’ fault.”
“But according to Oedipus, at some point, he began to embrace the madness and act on his own will.”
“There was likely a shred of willpower left in him, even amidst the madness.”
“That’s why he spoke of his will being involved as well.”
“If not for Gaia’s curse, would he have simply ended his suffering by gouging out his eyes, as he swore he would blind the parricide he sought?”
“Oedipus’s already broken mind was pushed further into ruin by Gaia’s curse...”
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After a long discussion with Minos, considering his actions, his contributions, and the curse’s influence...
“Bring Oedipus back.”
It was time to deliver the final judgment.
Oedipus was brought before me once more. As the silent king of Thebes stood before me, I began to speak slowly.
“Your crimes include violating your mother, killing your father, burning the temple of Dionysus in a fit of madness, and slaughtering innocent citizens of Thebes.”
Perhaps Oedipus is the most tragic figure in Theban history.
“By the severity of your crimes alone, you should be sent to Tartarus to endure endless labor. However...”
Most of his crimes were not truly his fault. Even the burning of the temple and the murder of Theban citizens were committed under the influence of his broken mind.
“I will take into account the madness induced by Gaia’s curse, the prophecy of your tragic fate, and the fact that you were once revered as a wise and just ruler of Thebes.”
From beginning to end, Oedipus was manipulated by the gods. A curse from Ares brought misfortune upon the Theban royal family. The prophecy led his father to abandon him, and he unknowingly violated his mother. Upon discovering the truth, he was further driven into madness by Gaia.
“I sentence you to a punishment of building stones at the outskirts of the underworld for 200 years, with the blessing of forgetfulness to erase your memories of the mortal world.”
For a man who had killed dozens of people, destroyed a temple, and even slain a sacred beast, this might seem like a light sentence. But given his circumstances, I deemed it appropriate.
“You will not be allowed to reincarnate, and once your labor sentence is complete, you will serve as a guard at the gates of the underworld for eternity.”
“Is the blessing of forgetfulness... a mercy you are granting me?”
“Think of it as a small compensation for the suffering you endured at the hands of the gods from the moment you were born until the end of your life.”
Oedipus, unable to speak, bowed his head. I turned to the goddess Lethe.
“Goddess Lethe, please take care of this.”
The judgment was complete.
After Oedipus received the blessing of forgetfulness and was taken away to begin his sentence of labor, I found myself deep in thought.
“Hades, the Olympian god Dionysus has requested that Oedipus be punished more severely.”
“....” “Hades...?”
As I slowly raised my head, I saw the sorrowful face of the silver-haired goddess.
“I’m not sure if the judgment I made was the right one.”
“You did your best, Hades. You gave the appropriate punishment and mercy to a mortal who was battered by fate...”
“I’m not sure...”
Had I truly judged Oedipus correctly? Were his punishment and the small mercy I granted him fair and just? Was there any part of my judgment that wasn’t entirely impartial?
“We gods... we are not as omnipotent as mortals believe.”
“Yes, that’s true.” “Even Zeus doesn’t know everything, and even we, the three great gods, are swayed by our emotions.” “That’s only natural.” “Athena isn’t always wise, and Hephaestus sometimes wields his hammer poorly.”
Gods are not omnipotent. Athena sometimes loses her wisdom in moments of passion, and even Hephaestus occasionally creates flawed works.
“But as the god of the underworld, such lapses in judgment should not happen.”
When mortals die, they come to the underworld. Victims and perpetrators meet here. Murderers and innocent victims arrive here. Those who committed crimes because they were manipulated, those who were killed by the gods, all find themselves here. Even those who committed sacrilege, those who were deceived into wrongdoing, and those who unjustly suffered and resented the gods all come to the underworld.
This is the final destination for all mortals and the place where their deeds in life are judged.
For this reason, I must strive to be as fair and impartial as possible. This is the duty of the god who wields such great power over the underworld.
“Why must you be so infallible? Hades, you’re not the primordial god, Chaos. You’re allowed to make mistakes.” “But...” “Even I sometimes make mistakes when bestowing the blessing of forgetfulness upon mortals. If something goes wrong, so what?” “My duty is to judge mortals...” “You’re already doing that well. Even Minos accepted your judgment and left satisfied.”
Minos, known for his fairness, is not someone who would hesitate to speak up if he disagreed with my judgment. I’m well aware of this.
“But still... I wanted to make the most just decision...”
Suddenly, Lethe embraced me tightly, activating her power of forgetfulness. The warmth of the goddess’s compassion spread through my body.
I didn’t resist.