Beyond The Impossible

The Moon, 230.000 miles from Earth

Protected by the Survival Field emitted from her belt, Noriko Null walks inside the cave with extreme caution.

She uses her N-Phone to shed some light: the cave is not particularly deep, but it’s pitch black.

The light allows her to notice that the footsteps she’s leaving on the thin layer of moon dust are not the only ones.

They’re proceeded by those of someone who went into the cave barefoot; judging by the depth and the distance between each one, undoubtedly an unusually tall woman.

That reasoning kicked off automatically in her brain: she doesn’t need to guess who preceded her.

Especially not when she arrives at the part of the cave that is illuminated by a burning flame.

Something that should be completely impossible on the Moon, given the absence of an atmosphere, but the goddess kneeling before the flame doesn’t need it to create fire.

<Vesta? If you want me to leave, just tell me.> Noriko says through radio waves sent by her Soul Relay.

<No, it’s fine. Come sit with me.> Vesta invites her.

Under the light of the fire, Noriko can see she’s changed her clothes from those she typically wears.

It’s still a tube top above a pair of rather tight pants, but instead of orange they’re black.

The top leaves exposed enough of her stomach to reveal the scars left when Poseidon stabbed her: now that she’s no longer in Heaven, they have resurfaced.

<You haven’t gone back to Earth since we left Heaven, Vesta. Is everything okay?>

<I’m in mourning. Theodoros never really cared all that much for ritual, but I thought it would be appropriate to follow the ways of his people. Wearing black clothing, unkempt hair…>

<So you’re following only some of them?>

<No, of course I am. I haven’t brushed my hair or worn makeup since we returned.>

“And yet you look exactly the same and ready for a cover magazine. Gods are so unfair” is what Noriko thinks, but instead she tells her:

<I’m sorry you had to lose your husband a second time. I wish I had been smart enough to figure out a way to allow him to leave Heaven.>

<Don’t. It’s not what he would’ve wanted. I’m also sorry, Noriko, I should’ve told you guys about him and how much he meant to me.>

<Hey, don’t even mention it. I know a thing or two about having problems with opening up to people. But out of curiosity… it’s hard to date things in absence of atmospheric corrosion, how long ago did you carve this?> Noriko asks, pointing at the surface of the cave in front of them.

Someone has carved an image of a man on the lunar rock, most definitely using just fingers; it’s not detailed enough to be fully recognizable, but Noriko deduces it represents Theodoros in his 30s.

<I started about a decade after his death. The burial chamber looked so empty without it. Occasionally I come back to try making it a little better.>

<Burial chamber? Is your husband buried here?>

<Cremated here, as he wished. That flame has been burning ever since, and will always burn.>

<Do you come back often? I couldn’t help but notice we’re just sixteen kilometers from where the Ranger 7 satellite crashed in 1964.>

<I checked the area a few times in the 60s to make sure the space program missed the burial site. But I haven’t been inside the cave since 1753.>

<Oddly specific.> Noriko notes, raising an eyebrow.

<Well, it’s a little… uhm, it’s a little embarrassing to be honest.>

<I absolutely guarantee that it can’t possibly be more embarrassing than what’s happened to me since the last time you saw me. I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.> Noriko proposes, reasoning that a little embarrassment is a low price to pay to cheer up her grieving friend.

<It’s the last time I was, how do I put this, close to a mortal?>

<Come on, you must’ve had friends before you met the Vanguard.>

<A lot… closer than we are, Noriko.>

<Wait wait wait. Are you telling me that you, YOU, haven’t had sex in two and a half centuries!?>

<I’m just not into mortals all that much.> Vesta admits with a shrug. Good thing she can’t blush.

<And I thought I was the one going through a dry spell. Must’ve been a real Casanova.>

<Well… uhm… yes, that’s exactly… who he was.>

<Get out! Are you serious!? You always said you didn’t meet anyone famous!>

<Giacomo wasn’t that famous in 1753. But, uhm, you said you had an embarrassing story to tell?>

<Oh no, you’re not getting away with this that easily, Vesta!>

The two friends laugh together, both hoping Theodoros would appreciate his widow’s willingness to open up to the future.

 

Atlantis

Aegian Galaxy, 2.5 million light-years from Earth

Poseidon is standing before the colossal Gate Of Heaven, whose size dwarfs everything else immersed in the ocean floating in space.

He strokes his green beard with a thoughtful expression on his face, ignoring his wife Amphitrite despite her holding tight to his right arm and caressing his pectoral muscles.

<Is something troubling you, my lord?> she asks.

<I can no longer feel Heaven’s power flowing behind the Gate. Something has happened on the other side, and I don’t know why.> he admits.

<Why not open the gate then?>

<Do not trouble your tiny mind with the thoughts of a real god, Amphitrite.>

<I apologize, my lord. Perhaps we should retire to our bedchamber so that I may fulfill my duties?>

<Now you’re getting why I married you.> Poseidon chuckles, groping her and lifting her off the ground with one hand.

Their public display of affection is interrupted by something disturbing the waters, a black portal that boils with eldritch power.

Amphitrite holds even tighter to her husband, while Poseidon summons his trident to face whoever dared to ruin the sanctity of his throne planet.

But what emerges from the portal is just a skeleton, a mass of bones held together by a black robe.

Struggling to keep his composure when the robe becomes unwieldy in the underwater environment, the skeleton manages to make a formal bow.

<A thousand apologies, sir, but I have not been able to get in contact with the local transit authority. What is the customary price to access this planet?> Charon asks.

<Death.>

<Really? We tried to institute the same policy for accessing the Underworld, but most beings reach it already dead so it was unsustainable. I’m more partial to the price of a gold coin myself, but…>

<I know you. A servant of my brother. What do you want?>

<Just doing my job, sir. And you shall receive more than a simple death. In fact, I have been tasked with announcing the Lord Of Death himself.> Charon replies, taking a step aside.

Someone else comes through the portal. Another being wearing a black coat, but with the hood projecting a perpetual shadow over his face. Water itself moves away from his body.

<Leave us, Charon.> Hades orders.

<Yes, sir, immediately, sir. It will take a century to properly dry this off.> Charon complains, dragging his completely soaked bones back through the portal.

<Hades, my goodness, it’s been a long time! I haven’t seen you since the funeral of poor Polyphemus!> Amphitrite greets him, faking excitement at seeing her brother-in-law.

<Leave as well, woman.>

<I only answer to Lord Poseidon himself!> she protests.

<Leave. Or you husband shall attend a new funeral today.>

A chill goes down the spine of the Queen of Atlantis. She glances at her husband to see if he has any objections, then she’s very quick at swimming away.

To a mortal’s ears, the voice of Hades is little more than a whisper. But Poseidon knows his brother well enough to recognize something behind it, something he hasn’t shown in ages.

Anger.

<You’re not one to make social visits, Hades. Normally someone has to drag you out of the Underworld by force. What brings you to my realm?>

<I see that you have an interest in Heaven. Have you realized what happened to it yet?>

<It’s as if it vanished overnight.>

<Not vanished. Destroyed. By the Mortal Co-Empress of Olympus, Noriko Null.>

<Has dwelling among the dead caused your brain to rot, brother? No mortal could…>

<Null has the Tablet Of Destinies.>

<You cannot be serious.>

<I am not known for my sense of humor, Poseidon. Null holds the weapon that banished our father and a way to use it.>

<If what you say is true, why hasn’t she used it to crush her enemies yet?>

<She’s being cautious. She can only use it once more… for now. But she also has access to a human-Drylon hybrid: it’s only a matter of time before either the Slayer Of Gods or the hybrid find a way to use the Tablet to its fullest potential.>

<We cannot allow that! We must summon all the Nine Gods at once and…>

<And what, Poseidon? Null would stall for time. She could even use the Tablet to force us to drop the accusations, if she wanted. We must take stronger measures.>

<Stronger than a summit of the Nine Gods? What exactly are you proposing, Hades?>

The God of the Underworld takes a moment to examine the situation one more time: he knows there’s no coming back from this decision. But he sees no other options.

<Both our kingdoms declare war on Olympus. Together.>

<A civil war within our very Pantheon!? You truly have gone mad, Hades! Do you realize what you’re proposing!? Not only it would be a violation of the laws of the Nine Gods, but can you even imagine how the other pantheons would react!?> Poseidon yells.

<About that… let’s talk about it, shall we?>

Both gods turn towards the voice that just intervened. It belongs to a woman with pitch black skin and ash grey hair, leaning against a column and staring them with a wicked smile.

<Ereshkigal. Of course. Nobody else could possibly sneak up on me.> Hades realizes, recognizing the Goddess of Death of the Sumerian pantheon.

<These are sovereign waters, Ereshkigal! I would be within my rights to consider this an invasion, you know.> Poseidon reminds her.

<I know. But I had to make sure Hades gave you the full picture, and he left out some stuff. Unless, of course, my sources are even more reliable than yours, Hades.>

<Such as? What do you know that I don’t, Ereshkigal?>

<More than you’ll ever forget in a thousand deaths, Hades. But for the sake of this discussion, I know that Null is holding hostage Roxiana, the mortal Poseidon wants to execute so badly. I know she owns a fraction of the soul of Kronos and the keys to the Celestial Galaxy.>

<She must be stopped. At all costs. Even a war between Pantheons would be nothing compared to what she can now unleash.> Hades worries.

<Absolutely. But the rest of the Nine Gods may want to take the opportunity to attack us.>

<Leave the Egyptians and my fellow Sumerians to me, Poseidon. I can ensure that they will remain neutral in this war. Provided, of course, that you two Greeks are gods enough to do this?> Ereshkigal asks, holding out her hand.

<Yes. It must be done: it is time for Olympus to die.> Hades agrees, placing his hand over hers.

<About time someone put that insolent mortal in her place.> Poseidon adds, adding his own hand.