HADEAN - 310 BCE

Part 1:

A putrid smell coats my nostrils and my mouth tastes like death. I groan as I slowly stand, my body feeling like it’s on fire. I stretch and look at my surroundings.  Under a sky painted in sorrowful hues of violet, where spirits whisper with chilling breaths, I find myself at the precipice of the Styx. This dark, unfathomable river marks not just the boundary of realms, but also oaths unbreakable and bindings divine. I chose this path not in hope, but compelled by the immense weight of guilt—a relentless shadow clinging to my very soul. The whispers in the darkness spoke of the Sleeper of N'kai, an entity that can grant reprieve from untimely death and save me from my sorrow, and the way to summon it from within the depths of the underworld.

Burdened and weary, I take hesitant steps forward, following along the azure waterway. Eventually, my path, drawn inexorably to the somber flow, reaches a crossing. That of the river Acheron, its obsidian waters a mirror to my twisted mind. In this domain where the veil between living and departed is paper thin, the weight of my sins presses oppressively close, a burden I feel unable to bear alone. The wind bears ancient voices, carrying the judgment of their gods—Hades and Persephone. Murmurs of dread amongst the rustling leaves and soft lapping of the riverbanks. An echo, a chilling reminder of what I am daring to disrupt.

Part 2:

On the dilapidated docks of the river souls, the boatman rises from the pitch and demands his fare. Nervously, I find the coin and am granted passage under the derisive eyes of Charon. I cower as the woes of men long-dead assault me from every direction. Before I know it, I find myself on the other side, the path winding deeper into the twilight of this otherworldly realm.

I forge on ahead, stumbling upon the river Lethe, its waters a seductive sapphire that promises oblivion. It tempts me with the solace of forgetfulness—a reprieve that I must elude. So it is with each river I encounter, from the fiery torrents of Phlegethon to the lamenting waters of Cocytus. Each stands as a stark monument to my folly, but the gods, from within the shrouded gloom, have yet to speak their judgment, yet it hangs heavy in the air as a foreboding storm.

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The desolate landscape shifts, the rivers converge, and the potent will of what lies beyond mortal comprehension makes itself known. It is at this nexus that I gaze upon a relic of pure hubris—an artifact that serves as a key to far realms beyond. A key born from arrogance and the burning desire to transcend mortality, stirring the ire of the chthonic gods. And it is my very own sin, the grievous act of murdering my brother Theo that led me here. It was truly an accident, I thought, one that I needed to rectify. But my desire to bring him back, this path I have taken, has inexorably positioned me as a mere pawn in a game dictated by forces as indifferent to my plight as the cosmos itself.

Part 3:

I stand at the very heart of the Hadean realm, where the fabric of time distorts around the confluence of the underworld's rivers, and a mournful dirge for the damned echoes around me. The artifact emanates a surreal darklight, alabaster shadows spreading on the black sand and making my skin crawl as I approach. Ethereal tendrils pour forth from the relic, enveloping my thoughts, as the Sleeper of N'kai makes itself known. I hear the voice behind the darkness and see the nebulous form of the toad god, Tsathoggua. I reach out and grasp onto its smooth surface. As soon as I touch it, waves of searing pain wrack my body and I scream, and scream, and scream.

But the gods only respond by delivering their irrevocable verdict. While the awakening of Tsathoggua made it direct its malevolent gaze upon me, it is the collective decree of Hades and Persephone, rulers of death, that resonates through the darkness. They impose upon me a fate far more grievous than mere death—for my transgressions, fratricide and aiming to free Theo from the clutches of mortality.

The realm quakes, rivers surging with a newfound fury, and the artifact, a potent symbol of my audacity, crumbles to dust, severing the connection to the sleeper, a stark testament to the gods' immutable dominion. I am engulfed by the dark embrace of the surging waters and my cries dissolve into the void, unheard amidst the wails of the eternally lost. My damnation severs the connection I had to my brother, concluding my journey not in reunion, but in perpetual separation.

I now wander ceaselessly within the shadows of Hades, my existence but a cautionary tale—a spectral reminder bound by overreach and gloom. As the timeless rivers meander on, my plight stands as a somber testament to the folly of hubris and the inescapable judgment it brings along.