*************

Wyatt Graves

I'm back.

A crumbled skull shatters into a thousand pieces under the heel of my boot as I open my eyes to the vast, seemingly never-ending darkness of the Underworld. But things are different now. As those behind me catch up, the blue lantern's light heading the passage and opening, I peer into the horizon beneath the surface.

Far, so far in the distance that I could only describe it to be the same as mountains amidst the periphery of one's vision, I see a crimson wall with... a large round structure beneath it, reaching halfway up the wall. Only with my eyes, the ones that have been improved twice by my Sigil, can I peer through the vast clouds of darkness, still careful not to look directly upward.

The crimson wall, however, seems to be undulating, like a living creature. But it doesn't possess any chains, so it cannot be one. Immediately, I know what it is.

It's the Weir, or the Weirs, the entrance to Hell.

Bonfire collides against my shoulder as he stumbles on a skull, breaking me from my amazement. I regain my balance quickly, but as I gaze around, nothing seems to be familiar.

I turn to Silas, and the Undead nods as if knowing what I am about to ask.

"Yeah... it's different. We came out at a different place. Maybe that's just how the Gate Of Death works? I'm not sure, but we're still in the Old Fields. The New Fields shouldn't have these skeletons from before the war started."

Shaking my head in bewilderment by the mystical nature of the Gate, I shift to my mother. Her eyes are focused in the direction that the wall of undulating crimson is in. I prod her with a finger to gain her attention.

"Aniwye? Do you sense him? Killian?"

Aniwye's head dips slowly, the glacial pace of her nod irritating, but her excitement rapidly grows.

"Yes. But... he's... hard to feel. It's like... he's here, but he's not. At the least, Killian is alive. Let's go."

Lennon buts in as my mother struts forward in a hurry. I watch as an invisible, formless blade hovers in front of her neck. The swordsman stares at her and me with ruthlessness.

"Return my heart. And... this is where we shall be separating if you are after something other than Eli."

Kwakiteh nods as well, both the woman and the artifact in agreement. The swordswoman sidesteps to Lennon, one hand on her Claymore's hilt as if this is about to come to blows. The duo tries to be courteous, unlike Lennon, but it falls short with the current threat.

"The same for us. Eli is why we came. Hopefully, you can join us when you are done."

I raise my hands to calm them, even as Virgil vanishes into the rifts between realities. The assassin does what he pleases, but I know he's careful not to push anything too far.

"Relax. I gave you a promise, remember? Graves don't break those. Here."

I hold the lantern out to Lennon as blue light washes over us, and I release the grip I have on the Heirloom. My Ether recedes from the hearts of Kwakiteh and Lennon. Curiously enough, though, Kate's is underdeveloped and injured. Interesting... did she lose hers, too? And it didn't heal all the way?

Nevertheless, my thoughts do not matter as the two immediately set off when their hearts, in a glowing flame of form, return to their chests. With incredible speed, they rush across the depths of the Underworld in search of their prey.

They are nothing but a madman and a madwoman, thinking they can kill him with just the two of them. With ten times the number, we failed. I don't hold any contempt for them, though. They have a goal, and they will succeed in it. I still want Eli dead, but after killing his real body and forcing him into a lifeless Vessel that will eventually fade, I hold less of a desire to do so. Firstly, I want to find my father. I want answers from him. I need the answers. So many, so many questions still swirl in my head every day.

What am I? Really? Who am I? Who gave birth to me?

So many things I've heard over the past year, and more, have made me suspect of my lineage and life. I don't know what to think anymore.

And that's just the tip of the iceberg. The bastard left me alone with a demon! Even if she's better than all the others... what kind of father is he?

Virgil reappears as he sheathes a dagger, letting his scythe fall to hover behind his back as well. Then he raises a hand, offering a question.

"So... where to? And who is going to be carrying Silas?"

The Undead in question immediately scoffs, facing us with derision.

"I don't need to be carried. We can be at Heights in two days."

Bonfire scoffs, arcing his fingers over his eyes in a 'seeing' motion over the horizon. The pyro laughs at Silas before apologizing.

"Two days? Whatever you can do in two days, I can do in an hour, slow-ass. Eh... that was a little rude. Sorry, voices and all."

Sighing, I put a hand in front of Silas as the fires within the sockets of his eyes are lit with a fire more fabulous than usual. With my other hand, I motion to Aniwye with a beckoning gesture.

"If we want to be fast, can you carry Silas, Aniwye? We should probably stop by in Heights. There are allies there we could have join us if they wish. At the very least, they'll be hospitable. Old friends."

My mother groans in displeasure before lifting Silas off his feet with her very mind. Ether swirls in the air before she leaves, heading in the direction that Silas pointed out when mentioning Heights.

"Uh... guess we better follow?"

Their abrupt departure flusters me; thankfully, Virgil is here. He pats me on the shoulder with a stifled laugh.

"Yep."

************************

Beyond the colossal stone gate, the entirety of the path to Heights is guarded by imposing gargoyles and macabre skulls, their eerie presence diminishing as the desolation of the Underworld unfolds. Sadly, none of the gargoyles are living as Lennox was, and all these skulls are forever-dead. It seems like less and less of the little man's fellows are still remaining.

My lantern casts a feeble light, revealing only a small, limited area amidst the engulfing darkness. Of course, I can see fine, but without any moon or sun, it feels... so off. I forgot just how odd it all is down here. It's just wholly unnatural. There is no trace of a sun or moon; the perpetual night of the Underworld is all-encompassing. Unlike the surface world, where at least one of the moons, Olijee and Muha, graces the night sky nearly every cycle, here, absolute darkness reigns.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

While running with Ether coursing through my veins and Blodwyn aiding me, the desolation of the Underworld truly unfolds, showing much of itself to me quickly. My lantern casts a feeble light, revealing only a small, limited area amidst the engulfing darkness, meaning everyone else has to stay close until we reach the New Fields, where there are lights.

As I blisteringly sprint forward, the echoes of my movement are accompanied by only a single pair of footsteps behind me. Aniwye floats with a threatening pace, slowing herself to be within the lantern's glow while Virgil's boots are utterly silent. I only hear Bonfire's crackling fire alongside his footsteps amidst the tranquil dark.

The ground is littered with unmoving skeletons, forming grim mounds of forgotten battles. Broken and rusted weapons lie strewn across the desolate landscape, remnants of conflicts lost to time. The air hangs heavy with the scent of decay, and with every step, we get further and further from the Gate Of Death, as well as its traces. It takes only about an hour until the swarthy fog fades to a line of torches lit by a pale flame. They hold back the fog, yet there are no buildings behind it like the first time I was here. Instead, there is a vast swathe of land with some outcroppings in the distance. And many miles away, I see two towering spires surrounded by shorter constructs.

The Heights Of Hope. And the Depths Of Depravity.

Silas takes a moment to regain his bearings from the rapid movement before pointing toward the spires, agreeing with my thoughts. He even appears to be less... furious over he predicament and far more accepting.

"Fuck it. Keep going. That way should take us to Heights."

Again, we dart forward as a group, heading toward the most prestigious and only city of the Underworld that isn't home to depravity. As we hurtle across the dried rock, I spot many Undead going about their duties, either delivering messages or training. They all, without exception, gape at our group in surprise as we swoosh past.

As Angels, it is so much easier to travel. Not only are we dozens of times faster, but lesser creatures tend to leave us utterly alone. No stray demon or creature of the Underworld even approaches us along our journey. For a land of the dead, it is quite a peaceful run, I must say.

Just as I begin to take in the breadth of the city of Heights, a crawling sensation worms across my skin. Immediately, I halt my advance and extend chains to my side, halting the others as they follow my lead. As I do so, I search around frantically, investigating all the rocks around for any sign of life.

Yet, a bright light appears only a few feet away. Squinting with a hand to block out some of the radiance, I discover that the light is on the opposite side of an eyepatch. A salty beard lies underneath the flaming white socket as the middle-aged man before me clears his throat.

"I was not expecting any guests, especially not those from the surface. Who are you? I know you. You're the kid—Johnny's little ward."

I step back as, behind me, all of my companions, even Aniwye, are utterly still, paralyzed even. One Eyed Isaac takes a footfall toward me while the light from his eye pulses even more luminously. He holds out a hand toward me before letting it fall unceremoniously.

"Incredible. To think... less than a year. I sense Excavator within your bones. Did you bring the tome?"

I nod, barely able to make the movement as Blodwyn is frozen, too. My heart is narrowly beating as the only two thinking beings here are Isaac and me. Johnny told me a long, long time ago about this man, this Undead, but he didn't truly know the limits of his strength. He warned me of what it would take to remain here, in power, for centuries. The strength one must possess has to be unrivaled. Still... the gunslinger was confident due to the inherent drawbacks of the Undead, Isaac would likely fall short of the Dominions above. But nevertheless...

This is a true Dominion, a genuine Demigod. Midnight purple fetters intertwine with his form, focusing eerily upon that eyepatch. Isaac returns the gesture of a nod toward me, raising his hand once more.

"May I have it returned? In exchange, I shall pay you an equal sum. It was a gift, but I see it has already been used to its fullest extent."

I heed his kind demand and reach into my pack to bring out the book that Johnny gifted me upon his own mastery of Excavator. Yet, as Isaac takes the bound thing, I still hold a question regarding it.

"What do you mean the fullest extent?"

Isaac, the single vibrant eye he has left shivering underneath his presence, gazes over me as if looking to the surface. He thanks me while answering my question.

"Thank you, truly. There is one who would like to learn it, but it is difficult without Louis' genuine teachings. I can replicate the words but not the meanings. As for your inquiry, Caldwell took the book for himself, and he took it for you. Seeing as you have learned it, returning it to the Archive is fitting."

I nod to him as I turn and motion to my unmoving companions. They are utterly still; the only way I know they are still alive is by the chains that still encompass them. Even their hearts, within my lantern, have frozen.

"What about them? Why aren't they moving?"

Isaac laughs as he turns around, waving with his hand as Virgil, Bonfire, and Aniwye gasp for air, clutching at their throats frantically and falling to the floor. Silas, not needing to breathe, simply claws at his eyes, the flames of Undeath somehow slowed by Isaac.

"You can see it. I know you can. Look a little deeper. Find me when you are ready for your reward. Otto and Marion would like to see you. The two are... quite the combo."

As Isaac strides away, the long dusty coat that follows him billowing in the... windless air, I realize what is happening. The muscles around my eyes tighten as Ether flows into them, and for the first time since my advancement, I have to manually peer with Insight. Usually, the passive enhancement is enough. It was plenty to see Lennon's Dominion.

But Issac Erno? The Supreme Of Hope? The One Eyed, Righteous Firmament?

I fall to my knees, my very breath stuttering by the sheer magnificence of the soul around me. I attempt to grasp some meaning, some form, some function, but its vastness leaves hints all over my surroundings. That's what it is.

Around me.

Like an ocean of pure willpower, waves of energy stream from Isaac's form, undulating and pressing against all of us invisibly. As I peer closer, I find the ocean, no... the fabric of reality wraps around my arm in a testing motion. The tightness surmounts as I feel a piercing pain, and I rip my arm back, the waves in the fabric quivering before immediately recovering.

Now this? This is a real Dominion. Lennon's is weakened by the fact he's only a Power, just as my Power was shackled as a mortal. Even Eli was restrained by his position. This?

Isaac is gone, vanished, absolutely missing by the time my brain shuttles back to work. Nonetheless, I'm still the first to recover. Aniwye is the second.

She stumbles forward and places a palm upon my shoulder, the weight of the massive limb resting lightly. Still, by her trembling knees, I can tell she's not at her peak.

"That was interesting. I was not aware there were figures of this caliber beneath the surface. Isaac, huh? He could easily go toe-to-toe with Tonuyn, Ytern, and the king of the Grayskins. Even against the Lords... I don't know if he'd win, but it'd be close in a one-on-one. You know him, yes?"

I nod slightly, only knowing the man indirectly through Johnny, who dealt with him. I was never actually there to see him, too busy being unconscious after my fight with Edmund that nearly killed me, a common occurrence back then. But it would appear the ancient Undead remembers me, or at least the impression I made.

"Kind of? Johnny knew him, and I guess he spoke about me? Either way, if he didn't attack us, I think we're good. Even if you're a demon. That was my worry, but I figured you'd disguise yourself or not enter the city."

Aniywe raises a hand to her chin, and Virgil wipes at his neck, silent to the powerlessness he was just under. Bonfire, however, is oh so very vocal.

"Bullshit! We're Angels! How can he just... look at us like that and paralyze us!?"

I sputter out a hearty chuckle as the walk to Heights continues. He doesn't understand, does he? This is only the beginning of the journey. Even if the remainder of the road is short, it's utterly vertical.

"Bonfire... come on. You know the difference between having a Dominion and not having one is massive, just like that of a Power. Virtues are essential, too, but not as much so. Plus, Demigods have so much more power and experience at their disposal. Also, without a Dominion to counter it, a Virtue to help you withstand it, or something else, the difference is doubly so. Do you have any idea how old Isaac is? Hundreds of years old. Hundreds. He has learned thousands of skills and practiced for millions of hours."

Bonfire pouts as we stumble through the wide-open walls of Heights. As we do so, Aniwye shifts her form with an illusion, but I spot a violet glow upon the top of the wall. A voice hails from above, stopping Aniwye from hiding her authentic form.

"No need demon. You aren't the first to ally with humanity. Just follow the rules, and there will be no issues. You hear me?"

Aniwye's head turns up to the wall that extends more than thirty feet high with a smile. Then, she nods, brushing past everyone else to enter the city first. I hear her speak under her breath with the amazement only one with the intellect such as her could have.

"Incredible. So many figures of power. It's like... a whole 'nother world. I wonder how it all works... this gift... maybe I should try to receive it... No. Focus. Killian."

I grin at her mind going off-track as it proves she's no different from me, prone to accidents, distractions, and being forced to readjust in the middle of important moments. She just controls it way better. I stride past her, guiding my mother through the bits of Heights that I remember, going straight for a specific place.

Above in the sky, the two pillars extend, not that I ever gaze too far up. She's there. Death. I know it's her, and I sincerely don't want to risk dying to her just for seeing through her facade. Those behind me follow without question as I move with purpose, and in just a matter of minutes, we arrive at the very thing I have wanted to see since Bent's fall.

My eyes scan the Heights Of Hope, dearly wishing to see a particular set of names, and a wave of relief, yet also sadness, washes over me as I see the names of multiple fallen mentors.

Edward Dudley

...

Edmund Dudley

Raymund Bolton

Marshall Travis

The placement of the name on the tower means just how much they did for humanity. And as I scan the list, counting the names below Marshall, shock grips my heart. The old man...

Vicar Vimier

Lychen Dewey

Marshall Travis

Eleanor Granger

Lazarus Hem

Heights Of Hope

Liquid drips from my eyes as I find my mentor's name emblazoned onto a pillar for all to see for the rest of eternity. And not only is he on it, the old man is fucking third, only behind Lazarus himself, the man who built the Territories after the First and Second died, and Eleanor Granger herself, the woman who kept the Underworld from falling long before Isaac took her place. I wipe at the tears as Bonfire points out something else. I also take heed of Edmund's placement on the ladder, likely brought to such a level because of all those he trained, and the power that they have gained because of him.

"I don't see Abraham anywhere. He must still be alive. Hmm... I don't see Alexos anywhere, either. You think he's an Undead?"

I shake my head at Bonfire. There is a chance he's down here, but he'd be at Depravity or Apathy for sure, not here. There is a chance the illusionist is down here, but he wouldn't be anywhere nearby. Some part of me, though, hopes that when Lily released him, he never made it down here. Swathes of Undead brush past us, staring at our group with awe and hate, the latter toward Aniwye. Yet, in my eyes, few of the people have any amount of true power. These are the Undead that die quickly and aren't likely to come back.

Where are all the powerful ones? Like Birdie? I know there was the guard, but besides them, no one else has been here so far. Something must be up. For now, though...

I step forward and place my hand upon the stone, tracing Marshall's engraved name as if it brings me closer to the old man. I can almost feel the waves of air detonated after his final punch. A punch. That's all it was, and he Shattered The Sky. But there is more than that... Decades of war, of turmoil, of protecting millions of people fly through my mind. The personal strife, loss, and agony that the man went through brings a shudder through my body. Despite it all, when his contributions are counted, I can feel there is something more important that Marshall did for humanity. It's the people he left behind, and what he means to them.

The hope he instilled and the fire he drove into those like me, like Tomas, like Richard, it's the greatest accomplishment. Lennon and Kate bow their heads to a man like this. Even Eli Weiss himself wishes this old man were still alive.

My eyes also don't fail to notice the other names. Lazarus and Lychen. Those are the Third and Fourth. Vicar and Eleanor are former Supremes, but who is Raymond? And... if Louis Fern was so great, why isn't he on here? Anywhere? All the Primes are near the bottom, and so are other figures like Ed Summers.

But Louis Fern is nowhere to be seen, like a phantom. And there is not a chance in hell he wasn't an Angel. So...

That means... It can only mean one thing.