"Lord Hades, god of the Underworld! Arbiter of mortals! Judge us yourself!!!"

What is this voice?
The one calling out to me was none other than King Menelaus of Sparta, the leader of the Greek coalition.
The woman he was holding in his arms was Helen, who had received my oracle and been sent out from Troy.

He raised his spear toward the sky and hurled it.

No spear, thrown by human hands, can soar forever into the heavens.
At some point, that spear will fall back to the ground. According to my foresight… it would pierce through both Menelaus and Helen.

Judging by his invocation of my name and his plea for divine judgment, Menelaus seemed resolved to place both his complicated emotions about Helen—who betrayed and left him—and his own fate into the hands of the gods.

Menelaus was not one of my followers.
As the king of Sparta, a military powerhouse, he worshiped Ares, the god of war.
There was no reason for me, the god of the Underworld, to intervene here. Strictly speaking, it would have been more appropriate for Ares to respond.