The shock of Nyx's identity had long worn off. Oliver and Mary had come to accept their true selves—Erebus and Nyx, primordial deities of darkness and night. The revelation had been overwhelming at first, shaking the very foundations of their reality. But with time, the initial awe and disbelief had settled into a quiet certainty. They were no longer just two ordinary individuals navigating the complexities of modern life; they were ancient gods, woven into the very fabric of existence.
Their first mission into the Underworld was drawing near, an assignment that required them to fully embrace their divine identities. This wasn't a casual trip; it was a trip to a place steeped in myth and shadow, where their presence had to command respect and power. Hades, the Lord of the Underworld, had entrusted them with a crucial task: to clear out stray demons that had infested the Asphodel Meadows. It was a mission that required not just their abilities, but their entire being. Before they could set out on this mission however, the needed to be in full attire. Hecate had let them to a room within her domain that supposedly would make them fully become one with their godlihood.
Oliver and Mary stood in the center of a dimly lit room within the Crossroads , the unfamiliar surroundings now tinged with an aura of ancient power. The air seemed heavier, charged with a presence that had lain dormant for centuries. They could feel it—an awakening deep within them, a stirring of the divine essence that had always been there, waiting to be fully realized.
Mary, now Nyx, closed her eyes, allowing herself to sink into that sensation. She felt the world around her begin to shift, the walls of the dusty room dissolving into a dark expanse, a reflection of the night she ruled. Her breath slowed, and as she exhaled, the darkness within her began to manifest outwardly. Her skin, once warm and human, took on a subtle, silvery hue, reminiscent of moonlight on a still lake. Her hair, a cascade of midnight black, flowed around her as if moved by an invisible breeze. Her eyes, which had always been her most striking feature, now gleamed with an ethereal light, as if stars were embedded within them.
Oliver, embracing his identity as Erebus, felt a similar transformation. The shadows in the room responded to him, deepening and stretching, as if eager to merge with their master. His presence alone seemed to draw in the darkness, wrapping it around him like a cloak. His form became more imposing, his features sharper and more defined, as if carved from the very night itself. The ordinary man he once was had been replaced by a figure of immense power, a god who had seen the birth of the universe and would witness its end.
During the transformation, which happened in all but an instance, their outfits seemed to have shapen around their godliness.
Mary's gown materialized as if woven from the very fabric of the night itself. The dress was a deep, inky black that absorbed all light, creating an aura of mystery and power. The fabric seemed almost liquid, moving with an ethereal grace that defied the laws of nature, as if it were an extension of the darkness she ruled.
The gown's surface was adorned with tiny, twinkling stars, each one flickering with a faint, silvery glow. These stars were not merely decorative; they were remnants of the night sky, captured and embedded into the fabric, reflecting her dominion over the cosmos. The dress flowed around her like a river of shadow, its hem trailing behind her in a misty, almost intangible veil that blended seamlessly with the surrounding darkness.
Around her waist, a delicate belt of silver moonlight encircled her, its faint luminescence highlighting her slender form. The belt was crafted from threads of starlight, giving it a soft, radiant glow that contrasted with the deep black of her gown. Her shoulders were bare, but the gown's neckline was adorned with intricate patterns resembling constellations, each one a symbol of her power over the night. Even though the dress seemed classy and elegant, it didn't seem to hinder her movement in the slightest, as the dress seemed to adapt to her every movement. Nyx's hair, a cascade of midnight black, was now more than just hair—it was a living extension of the night, flowing and shifting as if moved by an unseen wind. The strands shimmered faintly, like the dark sky before dawn, and seemed to merge with the darkness around her. Her eyes, the most striking feature of her transformation, gleamed with an otherworldly light, as if galaxies were contained within them. The ethereal glow of her eyes contrasted beautifully with her silvery skin, which now carried the pale luminescence of the moon. The outfit was completed by a luminous necklace, radiating pure power.
Oliver, now fully Erebus, stood beside Nyx, his own transformation just as dramatic and awe-inspiring. As his mortal clothes faded away, they were replaced by a robe that seemed to be woven from the very essence of the abyss. The robe was a deep, impenetrable black, darker than the void itself, and it hung on him with an almost sentient weight, as if it were part of the darkness that defined him. With the robe, he seemed to almost blend in with the darkness, and if Oliver focussed it, it seemed like the it almost begged him to become one with it.
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The robe’s sleeves were long and wide, flowing down to his hands in a manner that suggested both elegance and power. As Erebus moved, the robe shifted around him, the fabric undulating like the surface of a shadowy sea. It was as if the darkness within him was alive, responding to his thoughts and movements, ready to obey his every command. On his back, Erebus felt a faint, seemingly still dormant force, as if there was still something that had yet to reveal itself.
On his hands, Erebus wore rings made from the metal of a fallen star, each one a simple band of dark, gleaming material. These rings were not just symbols of his power; they were conduits for it, allowing him to channel the shadows and darkness at will.
His face, once human, now bore the markings of a god. His features were sharper, more defined, as if sculpted from the very shadows he commanded. His eyes, now a deep, shadowed gray, glinted with the knowledge of the ages, reflecting the ancient power that lay within him. His hair, once ordinary, had turned into a mass of dark, wavy strands, each one seeming to blend into the shadows that surrounded him.
In these forms, they were no longer Oliver and Mary—they were Erebus and Nyx, gods of darkness and night, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead. Or at least, as ready as one could be to become a god. With their transformation complete, they were ready for their very first task.
ecate led Nyx and Erebus to the center of the Crossroads, the air thick with an ancient power that hummed quietly beneath the surface. The dim light cast long, wavering shadows, and the atmosphere felt charged with the weight of untold secrets.
"Now that you’ve embraced your true selves," Hecate began, her voice calm but commanding, "the path to your first mission lies before you. This is no ordinary journey. The Underworld responds to intent, to the power you now wield. Only with complete focus will you find your way."
Nyx exchanged a glance with Erebus, her eyes gleaming with an ethereal light. The transformation had settled into her, and with it, a newfound confidence. "We’re ready," she said softly but firmly. "Tell us the way." Erebus didn't answer, but just nodded and followed Nyx's lead.
Hecate nodded, a flicker of admiration in her eyes. "From here, the Crossroads will guide you to the River Styx. But do not take the path directly; that way is meant for the dead. You must instead call upon the shadows and the night that you command. The first step is to summon the veil of night to obscure the world around you. Nyx, this will come naturally to you."
Nyx closed her eyes, feeling the darkness within her stir. She focused on that power, letting it rise and extend outward. The shadows around them deepened, and soon, the Crossroads faded into a starless void, the world around them swallowed by the night. "It’s done," she said, her voice resonating with the strength of her dominion. "The night is ours."
Hecate smiled approvingly. "Well done. Now, Erebus, it’s your turn. You must create a passage through the shadows, a tunnel that leads to the Styx without ever touching its cursed waters. The shadows will obey you, but they must be precisely controlled."
Erebus nodded, feeling the pull of the darkness that surrounded them. It was as if the shadows were alive, waiting for his command. He extended his hand, and the darkness began to swirl, forming a narrow, winding tunnel through the blackness. The air grew colder, as though they were descending into the depths of the earth itself. "I can feel them… waiting," he murmured. "I’ll guide them."
Hecate’s gaze was one of approval, her voice carrying a hint of pride. "Excellent. The path you’ve created will lead you to the edge of the Styx. Once there, you must not look into the river. It holds the memories of the dead, and even a god can be ensnared by its lure. Instead, you will call for Charon."
Nyx’s curiosity piqued, though her voice remained steady. "And what of the Asphodel Meadows? How do we reach them?"
Hecate’s expression grew serious, her tone grave. "The Meadows are deceptive, a place where the souls of the ordinary drift aimlessly. The demons you seek to cleanse have hidden themselves there, preying on the lost. To find them, you must listen to the whispers of the night and follow the currents of the darkness that only Erebus can sense. They will guide you to the heart of the Meadows, where the veil between worlds is thinnest."
Erebus nodded, understanding the gravity of the task before them. The Underworld was not just a place; it was a realm of deep mysteries and ancient powers, a domain that demanded respect. "And once we find them?" he asked, his voice heavy with the weight of his role.
"You must remember who you are," Hecate replied, her gaze steady. "You are not just gods in name, but in essence. The darkness and night are your allies, your weapons. Use them to cleanse the Meadows, to restore order to a place that has been left in chaos for too long. But be wary—the Underworld is not without its dangers. Even gods can falter if they lose sight of their purpose."
As usual, Hecate's words carried a lot of weight. Erebus was terrified of failing on his very first mission as a god, even if i was just a small task. Yet still, he had to do what his fate told him to do. And thus he guided Nyx into the tunnel of darkness and to the shores of the river Styx. And just as she had told them, the river seemed to scream at them, almost pulling them inwards. For a moment, Erebus remembered that the dead in the river where travelling to their place within the Underworld, where they were to rest eternally. All of them had been brought here by Thanatos, and with he realised how important everyone's role really was.
Nyx, who seemed a bit more focussed, stepped onto a nearby dock, where a lamppost seemed to hang. Without even a word being exchanged, the riverman appeared before them, beckoning them onto the boat, and into the Underworld.