TUChapter 32. Journey’s End
TU32. Journey's End
Strange artefacts of varying sizes and shapes sat displayed atop an array of marble pedestals. Heavy velvet curtains sagged in beautiful, decorative arcs, pinned back by golden hooks at regular intervals. The drapes lined the domed ceiling of the semi-circular foyer, distinguishing it from the mundane antechambers of a typical mansion.
The interior exuded a suffocating air of immeasurable wealth. Yet, when Aurora ran her gloved fingers across a nearby surface, she left a thick streak in the dust. It appeared no one had set foot in this foyer for ages; everything had been left exactly as it was.
Passing gleaming heirlooms, tarnished jewellery, and gemstones the size of a human head, Aurora hurried her pace toward the next set of towering doors. These were adorned with metallic repoussé, depicting Hades and Persephone on adjoining panels. The king beside his queen. The two outstanding figures stood tall and intimidating, framed by intricate olive laurel patterns running along the door's edges. The King of the Underworld was clad in a full suit of dark, interlocking armour that looked razor-sharp to the touch, while the Queen draped herself in flowing silk. Her mantle appeared meticulously handcrafted, featuring detailed orphrey with beautiful leaf and bird motifs.
Brushing her hands against the cold handles, she pushed gently. A sharp creak reverberated as metal ground against stone. It wasn't nearly as heavy as the first set of doors, she noted internally.
"There's not a soul here," Aurora murmured. The hallway stretching before them was so impossibly long that it seemed to devour the overhead light of the Hemera.
"Bizarre, indeed," Thanatos clipped, his voice soft and velvety as he drifted forward.
Her boots clapped against the thick marble tiles as Aurora strolled past rows of towering columns. The vaulted ceiling was raised high above the far walls, allowing the air to flow freely. It wasn't as suffocating as the first chamber, though the dead silence remained deeply jarring.
"Ah! There it is!" Thanatos reached his hands behind one of the tall curtains, revealing a long pull cord with a gleaming crystal end. "Before I turn the lights on... we aren't exactly relying on stealth, are we?"
"Right," Aurora replied brusquely. She watched with half-lidded eyes as he pulled the cord downward. The ancient lamps buzzed with static before eventually flickering to life, illuminating the hall one by one.
Behind the columns supporting the slab roof, the architecture branched into a series of smaller chambers. As Aurora and Thanatos walked past, she observed a fascinating range of rooms. Some were mundane — dining halls, bedchambers, and choir rooms — while others were tactical, housing armament storage or small, specialised workshops.
The space held the imprint of a vibrant past. The shadows of the temple’s former residents still seemed to linger within the stone. Though Aurora found herself profoundly curious, she could not afford to get lost in such ancient affairs. That was not her mission.
After some time, they arrived at the end of the long hallway, encountering another set of stairs that led up to a circular garden. The structure felt incredibly spacious now that it was fully lit.
The once-vibrant green grass had withered into crumbling ash. As she shuffled past the dead field, Aurora groaned. "If boredom could kill."
Thanatos chuckled softly at her remark, though she still decided to proceed with utmost caution.
The air suddenly grew frigid, and Aurora's boots skidded to a halt. Her silver gaze surveyed her surroundings from all sides.
"I see you—Thanatos-spatha!" Aurora muttered, instantly summoning her blade to her side. The long weapon radiated a purple light, encaged within the raging fire of death.
Stepping out from the shadows at the bottom of the stairs, two tall figures emerged. They clearly obstructed the path she needed to take.
Approaching with a casual stroll, the first figure, a male, offered his open palms in a gesture of amity. His long fingers ended in sharp, black claws, and a sword remained sheathed at his waist. His upper torso was entirely bare, while old, torn leather wrappings covered his legs.
Long black hair and pointed ears framed a sharp, angular jawline. He possessed two long horns, though one was snapped cleanly at its mid-length. His porcelain face bore strange, hairline cracks, making it resemble a fragile mask. Though he wore a welcoming smile, his piercing eyes glowed with a dangerous amethyst light.
"There is no need for that," the male figure bellowed. His gaze remained fixed on Aurora's spatha as he drifted closer. "At least, not for me."
"Who are they? Gods?" Aurora whispered, angling her body defensively.
"You…" Thanatos hissed, his posture stiffening as he stood taller.
"The God of the Underworld demands no disturbance! Begone now, before I strike you down where you stand!" the female figure shouted.
She spread her wings wide, as massive and intimidating as a dragon's. Her tall frame was clad in full black-and-gold armour, its detailing incredibly fine and undeniably ancient.
Clearly, the female companion did not share the male's peaceful sentiment. The goddess summoned a war scythe, its blade wreathed in roaring purple flames. Her face was completely encased in an ancient steel mask, featuring ear-like wings that spanned majestically to the sides. Small arrays of holes marked where her eyes should be, while the lower jaw section gleamed in dull gold. Her crimson-red hair was braided into a long tail, swaying aggressively as she moved.
"I request an audience with your lord," Aurora demanded, her voice booming across the courtyard.
As if her words had fallen on deaf ears, the goddess snapped her attention to the God of Death. "We meet at last, Brother." Her spit was hoarse and crude, dripping with venom.
"She's… your sister?" Aurora gasped, her eyes widening in shock.
"Yes. We shall take our family affair elsewhere, Ker." Thanatos smiled, raising a hand upward. His fist curled and uncurled experimentally, as if he were preparing for combat.
"Only death shall settle this dispute, Brother," Ker hissed, pointing a clawed finger at his skull mask. "Or surrender yourself now. You aren't half the god you once were."
A dark grin formed on his lips. Thanatos stepped forward, casting a hand to the side. "Empress, I shall deal with this one."
"Heh! You!" Ker snarled from beneath her helmet. Her long fingernails clutched tightly at her scythe's haft as she twisted into a lethal attack stance.
"But you said… Death shall never interfere—" Aurora began to question, but Thanatos simply waved his hand dismissively.
Then, in a sudden blur of black mist and feathers, Thanatos lunged with blinding speed at the Goddess of Violent Death.
"Confident prick!" Ker scowled, stabbing her flaming scythe forward in retaliation.
Thanatos twisted his wings, contorting his body so the blade missed his chest by mere millimetres. Carrying his full momentum, he tackled her head-on.
A loud, meaty thud echoed through the air, followed instantly by a sickening, bone-cracking sound as Ker's massive wings buckled under the impact.
Maniacal laughter boomed from Thanatos's throat as he slammed his sister brutally into the dirt. Dust and smoke kicked up into the dead air. The resulting tremors shook the very foundations of the temple, forcing Aurora to shift her weight onto her heels just to stay upright.
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"Thanatos?" Aurora called out. Her voice was lost in the chaotic brawl. Not once had she witnessed such raw agency and unhinged aggression from the aloof God of Death.
"O', let them fight their own battles."
The soft-spoken voice echoed behind her, sending a violent chill down her spine. Emerging from the settling dust, Moros unsheathed his sword at last. The core crystal and the runic lines running along the blade lit up with a mythic brilliance.
"I knew it, you breathed a lie after all!" Aurora shouted, her fingers gripping tightly at the hilt of her Zweihänder of Vanquish.
"No lies, no deceptions, Mortal. This blade shall be wielded by none."
Moros whispered a cryptic hymn and raised his sword high into the air. Pinching the crystal pommel between two fingers, he let the heavy blade dangle precariously, its pointed tip aimed straight downward.
"Ugh!" Aurora groaned, squeezing one eye shut as the insidious whispering abruptly intensified, ringing painfully in her skull.
The God of Doom smiled, though the eerie expression never reached his glowing eyes. "The Sword of Damocles has its purpose, but I can attest to you, it is not exactly meant for wars."
With a fluid weave of his hands, the sword disintegrated into specks of violet light, drifting downward like dying fireflies.
"What-what is this? A mental attack?" Aurora hissed breathlessly. Her knees immediately buckled, and she collapsed.
An overwhelming feeling of emptiness and suffocation washed over her — a dreadful sensation she couldn't fully explain. It felt exactly like the eerie stillness right before a catastrophe. Like the moment the birds stopped their singing, the air lost its breeze, and the wild animals vanished into the wilderness.
Doom.
"Do you understand it now?" Moros chuckled a dark echo. "I have heard so much about you, Godslayer. But you must know..."
His hands continued to weave in a hypnotic dance, as if he were reeling in an invisible thread. Suddenly, that thread glowed with a dangerous, blood-red hue.
"Yoouuuu stand with… Hades, then!" Aurora growled, forcing her heavy head to tilt upward.
Her eyes traced the glowing red thread. The Sword of Damocles now dangled precariously above her, its malicious tip trembling less than a metre from her skull. The crimson thread thinned rapidly, appearing as though it might snap and drive the blade through her neck at any given moment.
"Do I?" Moros towered over her, his violet eyes glowing like the devil's own.
Immense, crushing pressure pinned her down, making her feel as though she were trapped beneath the foot of a thousand-kilometre waterfall. Her arms went completely limp, and her face crashed into the dirt as she gasped desperately for air.
Aurora struggled to command even her own fingers. She lost her grip entirely, and the glorious spatha dissolved into purple mist. She lay pinned, powerless against the impending doom.
Slowly, Moros turned his back to her. A withered rose manifested between his pale fingers. His lips hummed a melodic, sorrowful tune. "It is not triumph that I seek. Heed my words more carefully, elven child."
He gently tossed the dead flower into the dirt. It disintegrated into ash the exact moment it made contact with the ground.
"I, Moros, the God of Doom, hereby deliver my true purpose. I am the warning wind that gales against the ship right before the wreckage. I am Doom."
With a single blink, Aurora was no longer at the Temple of Hades.
Blindingly bright pyres burned everywhere, accompanied by the unpleasant, metallic tang of ozone. Piles of rubble, shattered glass, and twisted concrete lay scattered — the unmistakable remnants of a ruined city.
"A vision?" Aurora heaved. She could feel the blood flowing back into her fingers as she pushed herself up from the scorched earth.
"Where am I? Am I back in the Overworld?" She stood as a lone figure amidst the devastation. Thick black smoke drifted into the distance, revealing absolute destruction stretching beyond the horizon in every direction. And in the night sky above, the red moon hung, so close it was enormous. So close, she couldn't see its entire sphere.
Something apocalyptic had happened here. But what was it exactly? The Sixth Apocalypse? The return of Cronos? The questions clouded her mind so fiercely that her head began to throb.
Dragging herself across the ruin now, it was not long before she spotted a man lying at the bottom of a blast crater. His hair was caked with drying crimson blood, yet its natural silver hue remained easily distinguishable. The dark red cloak he wore was familiar, though its design had changed a great deal.
Aurora dropped to her knees beside him, her heart thumping a frantic rhythm against her ribs. Her bloody fingers hovered just over the edge of his shoulder.
"Zetius…" Aurora's voice was painfully small. She couldn't—she absolutely refused to believe it was him.
Abruptly, she scrambled backwards, her boots skidding across the ash. "No… This isn't real."
"Yet…"
The soft whisper rang out to her left. She spun toward the source, throwing her guard up instantly. It was the dark God of Doom, clasping his hands neatly behind his back, exuding a frustrating air of regality.
"What is your game?" Aurora demanded, her tone hardening. "Trapping me in this vision will do you no good."
"Agreed," Moros nodded, closing his violet eyes. With a simple flick of his wrist, the ruined city dissolved into spiralling darkness.
Then came a blinding flash. When the glare cleared, a massive, opulent throne chamber materialised around them, its shadowed walls pulsing with the rhythm of an ongoing battle. The roar of explosions and the screech of clashing metal rushed in to fill the silence. Aurora’s focus snapped instantly to the centre of the fray, where a constellation of multicoloured gemstones orbited a silver-haired figure.
Boooomm!
Each gem erupted into a brilliant spectrum of light, unleashing a devastating torrent of elemental fury upon her. The thundering clashes and explosions ceased mere seconds after the vision shifted.
"Perhaps, something fairly recent," Moros mused, waving his hand to invite her inspection.
They stood over the body of an elven female, lying on her side with her back turned. The glorious Thanatos-spatha lay discarded and broken on the polished floor. The fallen woman wore the exact same attire as Aurora, but hers was torn and heavily stained with blood and grime.
"That is my end?" Aurora mumbled, deeply unsettled by the horrific premonition.
"Do you understand it yet?" Moros asked once more. Though his words were cold, there was still no trace of malicious intent in his glowing eyes.
That was when realisation truly struck her. From the start, he had never been her enemy. This was a genuine warning.
"I do," Aurora finally conceded. Moros arched a brow, waiting. She offered only a single, resolute word as her answer.
"Fervour."
A wide, genuine smile finally adorned his thin lips.
With another flick of his fingers, Aurora blinked again.
Instantly, she found herself back on the solid stone ground of the Temple of Hades.
Moros dispelled his oppressive arcane pressure with a soft snap of his fingers. The Sword of Damocles vanished, and his regular blade materialised back into his palm. As Aurora shakily pushed herself up to her feet, the god slowly sheathed his weapon.
"Umm…" Aurora began, but her words were entirely lost.
The blade clicked securely into the throat of its sheath, and the haunting, whispered hymn of impending doom ceased entirely.
Explosions still rang out nearby from the fierce, earth-shaking exchange between Thanatos and Ker. But Moros had fulfilled his purpose. He turned away from the Empress.
"I… Thank you," Aurora said, her voice still quivering with residual dread.
"Do not thank me. No one can escape doom…"
And with that, the God of Doom dissolved into thin air. He left absolutely no physical trace behind, yet the overwhelming rush of relief washing over Aurora was a sensation neither her mortal nor divine mind could fully comprehend.
Aurora snapped back into motion, her eyes desperately searching for her companion through the settling dust. But she was too late. A wet, sickening gurgling sound echoed across the expanse of the withered garden.
"Thanatos?" she shouted into the haze.
One figure stood triumphant over the other. It was Thanatos. His massive, feathered wings spread wide with dark glory as he pressed a burning, tar-black foot firmly against his sister's sternum. Ker squealed in agony, her golden helmet cracked and her majestic wings beyond mangled.
"I shall be your demise!" Ker hissed, spitting out a final, empty threat.
"No. You shall make me whole," Thanatos whispered. His tone was cryptic and devoid of mercy.
He hooked his fingers under the dull gold jaw of her ancient mask and violently ripped it free from the helmet.
The Goddess of Violent Death rolled her head to the side. The spasms racking her broken wings finally ceased. A profound moment of stillness fell over the temple as Thanatos stood motionless, tilting his skull mask toward the vaulted ceiling.
Though Aurora had missed the battle itself, the catastrophic violence of their clash was impossible to ignore. The dirt was scorched, unearthed, and dotted with massive blast craters. Shattered stones and ancient pillars had been reduced to bits and rubble. An entire section of the temple wall had been torn down, allowing the stark, pale light to pierce through and illuminate the outside.
Standing amidst the absolute devastation, her silver gaze roamed to the brutal victor; Aurora realised something chilling. In that moment, she wasn't entirely sure she truly knew this version of Thanatos at all.