Beyond The Impossible

Dark Galaxy, 10 billion light-years from Earth

Menagerie of Gods

This complex is a labyrinth, a maze of seemingly endless cages where countless gods have been tortured for millions of years.

Vesta’s flame is attempting to guide the blind Prometheus through it, and right now she truly envies her ally’s lack of vision.

<So many prisoners, so much suffering. How are we going to save them all?> she asks.

<We’re not. Trust me, their souls have been shattered long ago: they might be immortal and undying, but they have stopped living.> Prometheus tells her.

<This is awful. How did you survive the torture for thousands of years?>

<I knew that one day I would be saved. And also… pain is an old friend.> Prometheus sighs, and in the sadness of his voice she can hear the suffering of ages.

<Are you talking metaphorically, or were you friends with the personification of pain? Because if I’m not mistaken, that was the job of one of the children of Eris.>

<Metaphorically.> Prometheus clarifies. If he still had them, he would be rolling his eyes.

<Oh. Sorry, you never know with our family.>

<Do you still consider them family? After all they have done to you?>

<Of course. Even if some… well, a lot of them have done bad things, none of them deserves to suffer to please a god. Nobody does.>

<You are one of a kind, Vesta. Not many gods would have mercy on their enemies.>

<I admit it’s also self-serving: we’re going to need everyone’s mess to get out of this. Especially in my current condition.> the flame explains, stopping once she has reached the cage where the real Vesta is currently being held.

The one who has been talking to Prometheus is just a manifestation of her power, a living fire made into the form of a woman. The real Vesta is currently trapped in an extremely painful form, with her own skeleton and organs burning her from the inside.

Prometheus places his hand against the glass. He can’t see, but he can gather enough from the temperature variations on the surface of the glass to understand what’s on the other side.

<Baal loves ironic punishments. The goddess of fire condemned to burn from the inside out.>

<It’s taking all my concentration to manifest this fire. Unfortunately, it seems that Baal made this glass impervious to heat, and I am unable to move.>

<I have no such limitation. And as weak as my imprisonment might have made me… I am still a Titan by birth.> Prometheus reminds her, punching the wall of the glass cage with enough force to shatter it.

Vesta is temporarily overjoyed by this, but it only lasts a second before she can hear the entire Menagerie be shaken by the sound of tremendous buzzing.

<What was that!?> she wonders.

<Baal’s flies. They will swarm this place and tear the flesh off anyone foolish enough to attempt an escape.> Prometheus explains, walking towards Vesta’s true form: even without sight, she generates enough heat to be easily traceable.

<You say it like it’s good news!>

<It is, because fortune favors the foolish. And we are so very foolish.> Prometheus argues, coming close enough to Vesta to put his hands close to her face.

The heat would melt the flesh off his bones, and even lesser gods would be badly burned.

Prometheus is not just unharmed, but the flames inside Vesta’s body rapidly die down as her organs and her bones are returned to simple flesh.

<How… how did you…> she asks, with the taste of her own charred skin still in her mouth.

<Fire is also an old friend.> Prometheus answers with a smile.

The swarm of flies approaches rapidly, and it’s a terrifying sight to behold: their numbers are so great that they could easily cloud the entire sky, if it was visible in this forsaken realm.

Vesta senses that they are not just insects, they are a tiny fraction of Baal’s own power: it’s likely they could seriously hurt her.

<Allow me to return the favor.> Vesta tells Prometheus, gently pushing him aside with one hand and calling her flame doppelganger towards herself with the other.

The fire flows back to Vesta just as the swarm plunges towards her, ready to rip her apart.

<Firefly Inferno!!!> the goddess shouts, releasing millions of tiny spheres of incandescent plasma the size of insects.

The two swarms hit each other violently, with a cloud of flames vaporizing the flies by moving around erratically.

Obviously Prometheus can’t see any of this, but his affinity with fire tells him two things: that this was incredibly efficient, and that his cousin has grown far more powerful than he remembers.

<What was that?>

<A defensive move I came up a while ago. I’ve been waiting for a chance to use it.>

<No, I meant shouting the name of your attack. That is a Demon thing.>

<Oh. Well, one of my best friends is a Demon, and I guess I’ve learned a thing or two from him.>

<A Demon? Was he perhaps one of the mortal friends you said was captured with you?>

<Yes. Why, do you know a way to locate him?>

<More than that: if there is a Demon in this Galaxy, we might have a way to escape this place.>

<Prometheus, that’s the first good news I’ve heard since I came here. Tell me about it while we look for the other gods to rescue.> Vesta says, taking Prometheus’s hand to lead him through the rest of the labyrinthian prison complex.

<We might not have the time. The flies are part of Baal: now he knows we are free.>

<“Might”. If we have the chance, we should at least try to rescue the others as well!>

<Vesta… sometimes I believe you are too pure for your own good.>

<Some might say I’m foolish.> she replies, feeling the urge to smile for the first time in days.

 

The Empyrean, outside the universe

Surrounded by walls of white fire, Noriko Null sits on the glass steps of the last remains of Heaven while contemplating the lantern placed on the floor.

It contains the Soul of Kronos, a flame that violently bounces around inside the lantern like a caged animal. Torn stands behind her, observing with his arms crossed.

<I know what you’re about to say.> she tells him.

<This is a terrible idea.> he breaks his silence.

<See, that is exactly what I thought you were going to say.>

<We know two things about Kronos. His words cannot be trusted, and the circumstances of his imprisonment cannot be easily repeated.> Torn reminds her.

<We know a third thing: he was probably the most powerful god who ever existed. And right now, I could really use a powerful ally.> she replies.

<There must be other options.>

<Name one.>

Torn keeps his silence for several minutes.

<You’re the expert on souls here: what am I looking at, exactly?> Noriko wonders, examining the lantern once more. It doesn’t look of Drylon origin; her theory is that the container was constructed by the Celestial Beings, Siduri’s people, who helped defeat Kronos.

<It’s the soul of a god. The most powerful I have ever sensed; I feel its weight pulling on my soul, even with the lantern holding it in.>

<How could this be? We know Kronos was sent into the distant future by the Tablet of Destinies, and he has sent messages to me before. Was he doing it from here?> she wonders.

<That I do not know. We could ask Siduri.>

<She’s the last being to talk to if you want straight answers. Can we communicate with this thing without setting it free?> Noriko asks, shaking the lantern with her foot.

<That construct seems to block his soul from leaving, not others to enter. But I advise against this: you have also learned how to sense souls, Null, and you must be feeling its power.>

<I am. Do you think it’s going to try taking over my mind or something?>

<Most likely. There is nothing I can say to convince you to avoid jumping in, correct?>

<Yep.>

<Be careful. I will bring you out if I sense hostility, but don’t be overconfident: if you get too close to such power, it could shatter your very soul.>

<Duly noted. Don’t worry, this is not the most reckless thing I’ve done.>

<It actually is.> Torn disagrees.

Noriko ignores him, concentrating her eyes on the lantern… and the fire inside it looks back.

 

The Soul of Kronos

Noriko isn’t new to out-of-body experiences, but Torn wasn’t kidding about the weight of the soul she’s contacting. She feels like she has trouble breathing, despite the absurdity of the concept.

Her mind requires an environment to conceptualize the meeting, creating an avatar of her real body floating in space, surrounded by an endless sea of stars.

She faces something so massive that it appears to her like two black holes warping space itself between them, each one surrounded by a vortex of flaming matter being swallowed.

When she notices the light is being distorted in a much larger area around them, Noriko realizes those are not black holes: she’s staring into a god’s eyes.

And when the god speaks, she realizes why this is how her mind interprets the meeting: this is the scale of the weight of their souls, to scale.

<Slayer of Gods.> he greets her.

<Kronos.> she responds.

<The pieces are falling into place. This encounter was predetermined to herald the return of the once and future Emperor of the Universe.>

<More like Emperor of barely a dozen galaxies. Hyping yourself a bit much, aren’t you?>

<I was not renowned for my sense of humor, Slayer.>

<No, but you were the only god capable of defeating Baal. How did you do it?>

<As the God of Time, I have perfect knowledge of my personal history throughout the ages of the cosmos. And even I cannot find reasons for why I should tell you.>

<See, you do have a sense of humor. If you truly know about your future, Kronos, you also know that you will tell me what I want. And you want to know why? Because I am Null.>

<I have annihilated stellar empires for lesser acts of disrespect than this, Slayer.>

<And I am this close to losing everyone I’ve ever cared for and everything I’ve ever fought for; do I look like I give a f##k anymore, Kronos?>

The weight of the soul before her shifts. He’s uncomfortable acknowledging a position of weakness.

<To help you, I would require something in return.>

<Not gonna happen. You have no cards here, Kronos.>

<Neither do you. I was stabbed by my own son, my soul was trapped by heathens, and my body was exiled trillions of years into the cold future of a dying universe… do I look like I give a f##k anymore, Slayer of Gods?>

Noriko knows this is a trap. But the images that Baal showed her of Athena’s troops marching into the streets of her city are burned into her soul.

<What is your price, Kronos?>

<You will never accept releasing my soul into the universe or summon my body back to the present with the Tablet of Destinies: your distrust of me is greater than your recklessness.>

<Get to the point. What do you want from me, Kronos?>

<To give you the means to defeat Baal and reconquer your throne, Slayer of Gods, I ask only one thing of you and nothing more.>

Noriko waits for his wish. She’s anticipating a series of possible demands… take possession of her body, bring his soul into the future, anything at all… except what he ultimately asks of her.

<Promise me that you will kill your mother.>

<Wait, WHAT!?>

<I acknowledge you are unable to do it immediately, given you lack access to her current location. But if I grant you the knowledge you seek, you will swear to this oath: when the opportunity to kill your mother arises… and it will… you will end her life.>

<You are placing a lot of faith into my word.>

<Faith is for lesser gods. The oath would create an unshatterable bond: attempting to break it would annihilate your very soul.>

<What do you care about my mother? What is your game here, Kronos?>

<Nothing that even the brightest of mortals could ever understand. Do we have a deal, Slayer?>