Styx laughed. The sheer absurdity of his statement was unbelievable. This was her domain, the seat of her power. Nothing could touch her here. Before she responded, Nyxen snapped his fingers. The sound echoed like a thunderclap, and the reaction was instantaneous.

Jagged fissures detonated, exposing the raw foundations of the Underworld. Reality almost blurred with the impact, warping and glitching. The remains of the Archives groaned. Stone creaked before it devolved into a landslide, rushing to bury them all. Rubble thundered down, and they all struggled to escape a rocky tomb.

Dust choked the air as hot pieces of molten rock peppered her skin. But she couldn’t move, couldn’t appreciate the absolute horror transpiring. In the same instant, agony speared her core. She gasped, collapsing to her knees, clutching her chest. Something essential tore, shredding without regard. Now she knew the truth of the demon’s threats.

With a snap, Death dissolved. The forced transformation left her quivering and gasping for breath. Having that power so abruptly taken was jarring and traumatic. She struggled to calm her breathing, to soothe the churning movement of magic.

They’d done something to her. Done something to her realm.

Caleb was by her side in an instant, his warmth struggling to pierce the frozen torment that gripped her body. Even the soul bond between them seemed dimmer somehow. Like words through water. Like footsteps through deep snow. Like forgetting an important thought.

“Styx!”

She glanced up at him, confused. There had to be a reason he looked so frantic, but she was unable to think of one. Nyxen laughed, and she tried to understand what was happening, what happened. There was an essential piece missing, an element left out.

“She’s feeling it now,” Nyxen said. “My companions have succeeded in their task of isolating Death.”

“You bastard!” Caleb jumped to his feet, cursing and threatening the demon.

“He’s a dead man!” Shinigami yelled. “DEAD! I’m going to torment his soul, tease it for an eon!”

“You have messed with our mistress,” Anubis growled. “You will not leave here alive.”

Caleb pulled her into his arms again. “Styx, come on. Fight this. He’s nothing, you’re everything. Rally. I know you can do it.”

Anubis hurled a spiked spell at the leader, but casually Nyxen batted it away. Shinigami tried to drop a boulder, but the leader dodged. Together, the Three Fates spat their spell, only for it to dissipate.

“You don’t understand,” Nyxen said. “You all gather power from this place, but I’ve tainted it. You’ll grow weaker and weaker until there is nothing left. Then I’ll smash you like the specks you are.”

Styx felt she should respond. There was something inside that had important things to say, threats to issue, promises to keep. Movement caught her attention, and she smiled. A specter was approaching. It’s ethereal form flowing in the different currents through the destroyed space. Several more joined it. Her companions fell silent as more joined.

“It’s pretty,” Styx said. “With the moving colors.”

“You should say goodbye now,” Nyxen said. “Before it gets worse.”

“Shut up!” Caleb snapped.

Wisps of ghosts arrived next. They’d always been her favorite. In death, the soul’s inner spirit animal physically merged with the mortal shape to reflect the essential self. Some sprouted antlers twisting with gnarled branches, owl feathers drifting through ribcages, others featured scales shimmering across ethereal cheeks or prehensile lion tails drifting from stooped spines.

“Styx.” Caleb hugged her tight. “What’s wrong? You’re really freaking me out.”

“Nothing is wrong,” she snapped, suddenly annoyed at the smothering. “You’re so annoying.”

Shinigami frowned. “She’s lost it. Completely lost it.”

“This is disconcerting,” Anubis said.

“She’s not herself,” Past said.

“The Underworld is being torn apart,” Future said.

“Death is suffering,” Present said.

“I forbid it!” Caleb shouted.

“There is nothing to forbid,” Styx said. “Don’t be so overbearing, Caleb.”

“Caleb,” he muttered. “She called me Caleb. I hate it when she calls me that. That’s not what she’s supposed to call me. Damn it.”

Styx frowned. “But that’s your name. Caleb.”

“But you always call me, Cal.”

Another tremor rocked the area, and Caleb clutched her tight. Styx wasn’t entirely sure why he was feeling so protective. He was a mortal, lacked magic, and a virtual stranger. This man wasn’t even a god, just immortal. There was no reason for him to be so clingy. When the shaking subsided and he relaxed slightly, she edged away from him.

“You need to cool it, Casanova,” she said. “I’m way out of your league.”

Genuine horror followed by immense hurt spread across his face. “What?”

“Back off,” she said. “I don’t need you pawing me…”

She trailed off as a crevasse split open, more ghosts poured from the opening. Curses had doomed these wraiths, demented and twisted beings, to live an eternity in exile. Only the most evil souls transformed into wraiths. They shouldn’t be here. They shouldn’t be free.

“We cannot allow the wraiths to be free,” Anubis hissed.

She didn’t have a problem with it. Who cares? They were just the leftover bits. But before she could tell the others to relax, these fragments of magic turned. The Three Fates whispered frantically, while Anubis and Shinigami shared worried glances.

Without another sign, the gathered specters, ghosts, and wraiths attacked. The sudden aggressive movement caught the others off guard, and it took precious seconds for them to react. Shinigami roared as his purification spells vaporized clusters of clawing ghosts. Anubis summoned his golden flails again, but the holy weapons did little to damage the formless beings.

Already diminished, the triad barely repelled ravenous ghosts with fraying threads and dimming runes. Styx sat back and picked at several loose fibers on her blouse. It was more concerning that she was wearing such disheveled clothes. It was disappointing to see a deity of her standing caught in such a state. One that she should rectify soon before anyone of importance saw her.

Caleb brought a shield up to block a blow from a wraith. She glared at him, annoyed that once again he was in her personal space. He whipped about a rather disgusting looking dragon spine before it transformed into a sword.

He slashed at the spirits, and they retreated before the glowing blade. Using the advantage, he pressed them, sending them scattering.

“We might have a problem,” Future spoke up.

Caleb groaned. “You mean a bigger one than an ambivalent Styx?”

“Yes,” Past said.

“Much bigger.”

“Monumental.”

“Just spit it out,” Shinigami said.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

“The future is getting cloudy,” Future said. “It’s fading.”

Styx giggled and pointed at Caleb. “The look on your face is great.”

“I’m not sure I like this new, Death,” Anubis said.

He moaned and rubbed his eyes. “If the future is fading, that means the magic of the realm is dying.”

“Yes,” Present said. “Without that foundation, the power that we use is failing.”

“And Styx isn’t any help.”

“She’s useless.”

“Hey! I’m a fucking god.” Styx puffed out her chest. “So watch the tone, missy.”

Nyxen laughed. “Seems like our theory was correct. Death and the Underworld are so interconnected that we didn’t have hope to defeat her. But now that the Underworld is failing, she’ll fail as well.”

Styx clenched her fists. She really didn’t like being manipulated. It was underhanded and sleazy. Two things that she detested. So, she decided. She’d kick this demon’s ass so completely that he’d regret the day he set foot in her domain.

“You know, it’s morons like you that fill up my hell pits,” she spat. “Because I’ve had enough of this attitude.” She stopped and looked around. “Right? I’m fairly confident that’s accurate. But I’m having a hard time remembering specifics.”

“Yep,” Past said. “Totally accurate.”

“He deserves worse,” Present added.

“Completely,” Future nodded. “I’d set him up on a date with Pale Man. Lock those two in a room together for a month.”

Shinigami snickered. “Remember when we installed those tanning lights in his place? That poor bastard ended up looking like a sunburnt lobster.”

Past laughed. “The sight of him trying to moisturize his overly crisped skin.”

“Was a spectacle!” Future laughed.

“It took a while for you to top that, Shinigami,” Present snickered.

Nyxen sighed. “Except I’ll be the victor here.”

“You’re sound more and more like a badly acted villain,” Caleb said. “What’s with these grand statements?”

“Ego,” Anubis said. “Ego is always the answer.”

“He thinks that we’ll lose, and he’ll win,” Future said.

“Well, he’s wrong!” Caleb stomped his foot. “Because we have Styx!”

Styx snapped to attention and glanced around. “Huh?”

Past, Present, and Future moaned. “It’s hopeless.”

“Let’s pack.”

“Move to a different realm.”

“I heard Kunlun Mountains is nice this time of year.”

“They do have great food.”

“Dragons are fun, too.”

“Love me some Moon Lord.”

“Let’s go!” They all said at once.

“Death’s companions are already abandoning her. That makes my task easier,” Nyxen said. A vibrant blue flame consumed him and, in an instant, he was gone.

Styx whipped about and glared at her so-called friends. “Should I help you pack?”

“It was a joke!”

“Take a chill pill.”

“Over react much?”

Styx fought the urge to smack them, yet understanding stayed her hand. It seemed like things were out of control. It was becoming painfully apparent that she wasn’t the same anymore. But she couldn’t say what changed. Everything was too hazy. Which made her both disappointed and angry. Angry enough to do something stupid.

“You know,” Past said.

Styx turned and faced the god. Past mature face, sporting wrinkles and wisdom, studied her. The threads that wove around her body were duller now, the colors faded and distant.

“You won’t be a god much longer,” Past continued.

“She’s right,” Present said.

Styx glared at the motherly caregiver, hoping that her stare would make the god bow. Present fiddled with her pocket watch. The ink spots on her fingers were an off gray color instead of the dark blotches they’d been before.

“You continue down this path.” Present continued.

“And you’ll lose Death,” Future said.

Whipping about, Styx wanted to tackle the blasphemer. Future’s youthful face was unmoved. The metal that adorned her clothes was dull now, it didn’t glimmer or sparkle.

“You’ll be no more.”

Rage boiled up inside of her, and all Styx wanted to do was smack them. Punch them in the face and laugh as the blood rolled from their broken noses. To utter such disrespectful words in her presence was an affront! One that she wouldn’t stand for.

“It’s okay, Styx,” Caleb said. “I have faith in you. You’ll figure out how to counteract these stupid demons and win!”

This man was weird. But then again, he had a point. As Death, she was powerful. She glanced at her hands, and they sported a few healing wounds. But still, she was capable. Curious, she tried to summon some power. Dark purple bubbled from her palms before it spluttered and died.

“Those damn demons,” she spat. “Fine. I know what to do.”

In one savage movement, she drew a dagger and slashed it brutally across her forearm. Blood welled, a crimson betrayal.

Caleb cried out, horrified, grasping for the knife. But her glare pinned him, raw ruby droplets now falling freely to the stone between them. Caleb froze under the scathing warning, eyes pleading even as they traced the deepening river with sick dread. He whimpered something, but stayed away.

“Styx,” Anubis said, his voice thick with caution. “What are you doing?”

“I hope she isn’t doing.”

“What we think she’s doing.”

“Because that would be stupid.”

“Yep,” Styx said. “I’m doing a stupid.”

She let the blood drop to the floor and whispered the words. They were words she hadn’t spoken in ages. Words that she wished to forget, but could never. Before anyone stopped her, a chasm broke open where the red fell.

“Styx, it’s virtual suicide going there,” Past said.

“In your weakened state, you won’t recover,” Present said.

“Reconsider, we can find another way!” Future begged.

“Nope,” she said, as she jumped.

This is how she’d regain herself, and all it would take is absolute pain and discomfort. Which was on brand for the week she’d been having. Probably, she couldn’t actually remember much. But considering she was usually so composed, that obviously meant that things had gotten really bad.

So she’d return to the center of herself. The very heart of the Underworld. The seat of her power. The location where the Creators pulled her together. Where the void between realms existed. This was the only place where she could hope to regain any sort of strength. Without another thought, she jumped into the darkness.

The wind stung her wounds and brought tears to her eyes, but she didn’t make a move to brush them away. Then she twisted mid-air and landed on her feet, the shock dissipating through stone. She sucked in a breath, relishing the potent scent of clove and ash.

If anywhere was truly home, this was it.

Winding brimstone paths squeezed between colossal obsidian shards. Their glossy surfaces devoid of light. Any glimmers came not from torches or flame, but refracted momentary hopes plucked from the damned souls who strayed too close to freedom’s illusion.

A sound captured her attention, and she glanced up to see Caleb falling. He was flailing and screaming, his arms and legs kicking out at nothing.

“Damn you for following me!” She yelled up at him.

“I had to! I’m yours!”

Cursing, she whipped up a gust of wind and grabbed him. He wheezed as she set him down, doubling over and struggling to calm his breathing.

“I never want to do that again.”

“You shouldn’t have followed me,” she spat.

“Styx, you don’t remember the connection we shared,” he said. “That’s fine. But I will not separate myself from you, now or ever.”

“Great, I’ve got myself a flea.”

“Yep! The best kind, too. I make a mean cup of earl gray.”

“Come on.”

image [https://i.imgur.com/uUgM14C.png]

Styx didn’t wait for him as she picked the correct path and started down it. Soon, they reached the center where her onyx throne, encrusted in riches pillaged from fallen kings, rested. Molten ruby eyes blazed judgment upon petulant mortals and cowering gods alike.

Her throne room was perfect, a vast shadowed hall where four blood-red candles illuminated the dark seat. Skulls of mythic beasts adorned the walls, their eyes always unseeing. Caleb whistled and stepped closer to examine a wall.

“Is that?”

“Yes.”

Behind the dark obsidian, a dazzling crystal garden shimmered. She collected this kaleidoscopic from the departed souls as a tribute, as a memory. Fractal colors danced across smooth bone pillars, sending a hundred million colors sliding across the dead. This was her way of honoring the dead, transform them into something beautiful.

“It’s said,” Styx whispered, hoping her tone was menacing enough. “That supplicants go mad from the baleful skull candle light in this room.”

Caleb shuddered and cleared his throat. “Oh, uh, interesting.”

Styx chuckled and turned away. The call of death beckoned her. Falling for its siren song would be effortless. It didn’t matter that she was death, because death called to everyone. It spoke the soft and comforting words that would lead to eternal rest. If she only gave in, surrendered, then she could taste that absolute joy. Discover what would happen next.

She glanced at Caleb. He was staring at her, his hands rolling nervously.

“Do you want to die?” she asked.

“No, I’m devoted to you, and since you aren’t dying or dead, I’m good. Thanks though.”

She stared at him harder. “Do you hear the call?”

“Uh, not really. I mean, I hear a low sort of din, but I’m decided.”

“Decided?”

“I refuse to die until we can go together. So I won’t die yet.”

She shrugged. “Cheesy.”

“Cal can be, yes.”

Dismissing him and his stupid devotion, she continued past the throne. It was here, ageless eons ago, that the Creator’s magic birthed her. Here, the void remained. And it will be here that she’d repair herself. Return to that deity that she should be. That everyone missed.

She crossed below the etched scythes carved into the obsidian walls, the skulls with black abysses for eyes. Casting a quick glance back, she looked for any indication of fear from Caleb. But he showed none, instead it was all curiosity.

Which was a good sign, probably. If he’d been afraid, then his usefulness as a companion would have been lacking. It was always a pain to calm the scared.

Behind the onyx throne lurked a gaping abyss, more absolute in its nothingness than any mortal mind might fathom. To glimpse that ravenous abyss was to witness one’s sanity unraveling at the seams. That lightless expanse silently smothers all light, matter, and quantum shreds of hope and dream from existence. No tortured wails or hellish screams disturb that cosmic erasure. Only the endless, accepting hunger of the infinite.

It was not the mere black of night or ink’s opaque shadow. Both still reflect some fraction of visible spectrum. Here, even concepts of color and luminance lose coherence, for there is no photon or particle left to perceive. One stands blinded at the precipice of unbeing itself, all atoms rebelling against the compulsory plunge towards not only oblivion…but an afterlife more absolute than death dared promise.

image [https://i.imgur.com/R9U8pVG.png]

This was her destination. She’d baptize herself in unmade essence.

Suddenly remembering Caleb, she turned to him.

“Don’t follow me.”

“Why?!” He whined.

“Because you’ll be unmade.”

With that, she fell back into the nothing. He scrambled to reach her, but stopped short. Good, at least he wasn’t a complete moron. His anguished cry pierced the vast void for a second before it vanished without a trace. Then the nothing devoured her.