TU13. Cave of Dream
The black griffin made landfall, its massive wings sending a heavy gust of wind through the low shrubs and bushes, setting them violently rippling.
Aurora’s boots touched the firm, dark soil, crunching against dark-green blades of grass that grew in sparse, uneven patches. The temperature here was sharply chillier. She had almost forgotten this was still a part of Tartarus.
"Good girl," Aurora murmured gently, rubbing the temple of the legendary beast. Ventiff emitted a low, satisfied whir, slowly closing her crimson eyes.
"That was a quick flight. Direct, too," Thanatos said, reappearing silently beside her.
"Absolutely," Aurora smiled. She scanned the vast, thin forest behind her, confirming they were completely alone.
Then, she turned to face the base of the massive plateau. Another colossal head of the god of dreams, Hypnos, was carved into what appeared to be a calcified tree stump. Stone wings spread outward from his temples, every feather detailed with an intricate, surreal precision.
"I hope this… isn't another god disguised as stone," Aurora called out over the rising wind.
"Nothing like that, I assure you. Dreams… and sleep are dead," Thanatos replied. His attention still lingered on Ventiff’s mane, trailing a pale hand through her overhanging black feathers.
Aurora barely suppressed a grimace.
"Well, sleep cannot die. How could there still be sleep and dreams in your world, you might ask?" Thanatos chuckled, sinking his hands into the soft spots under the beast's terrifying jaws and scratching vigorously. "My brother, as the personification of sleep and dreams, no longer exists across the eleven dimensions. Dare I say we are not mere primordial gods? No, no, no—we are daemons."
The daemon rarely gave a straight answer, no matter how conversational their wordplay became. At least, unlike the Moirai, Thanatos wasn't inclined to speak in pure riddles or cryptic songs.
Still, the ontological concept completely transcended mortal comprehension. These daemons were the very foundational pillars of the universe. Destroying them completely was simply impossible.
Eleven dimensions… Aurora pondered. She had heard great mathematicians theorise that Earthly mathematics only functioned up to the eleventh dimension. This alignment with Thanatos's claim was far from a mere coincidence. It stood to reason that souls, and this very place, were a part of that eleventh dimension.
A realisation dawned in the Empress's eyes. "Does this mean the primordial god, Chaos, was the only daemon operating far beyond this dimension?"
"The only domain even I dare not tread," Thanatos admitted. True to form, it wasn't a definitive answer, but it spoke volumes.
"Hold on… So, unlike the Olympian Gods, the children of Nyx — Moros, Nemesis, Momus, Philotes, Geras, Eris, Apate, Oizys, Hypnos, and you, Thanatos — are eternal and absolute. Even if these entities fall, their concepts remain."
"When you fell aeons ago, Thanatos, the wheels of life and death still functioned." She emphasised the point with a sharp gesture. "Like eternal night and darkness, the daemons transcend even the realm of souls and spirits. In other words, you exist no matter what happens to your physical personification."
"Aha!" He snapped his fingers, his smile spreading wide. A hint of pride gleamed in his ancient eyes.
"That brings me to another hypothesis—call it a working theory," Aurora mused aloud. "In our universe, there is a true immortality that goes far beyond standard divinity. This can only imply one thing: there's a strict hierarchy in the theogonical tree."
She turned to Ventiff, holding her palms open. The beast nodded, its bushy tail swishing slowly as its eyes slid shut. With a final thought, the Empress dismissed her mount, watching the massive griffin dissolve into a black mass that dispersed into nothingness.
Simultaneously, Thanatos straightened, formally clasping his hands behind his back. "Something like that."
"Are you not going to tell me where your power draws the line?" Aurora probed, arching a brow.
He smirked. "Of course not." He scoffed, sounding far more amused than contemptuous.
"Then enlighten me."
"As you can see, death is not the cause, but rather the effect." He extended both open palms in a welcoming gesture. "It's entirely up to you, Empress."
"Up to me… up to me to do what?" Her voice faltered for the first time as she met his towering gaze.
"Up to your mastery."
"Like sword mastery? A spatha?" Aurora's eyes glowed with sudden eagerness.
"You're getting it now! But let it marinate. There will be a much more appropriate time for that lesson." He waved a hand dismissively, signalling the end of their deep conversation.
Spinning halfway around, he paused. "It is always fun talking to you, Empress. It is refreshing not having to explain myself dozens of times. The depth of mortal cognitive architecture marvels me more than I care to admit."
"Thanks, I guess," Aurora replied with a deliberate, slow blink.
He pointed a slender finger towards the entrance beneath the colossal statue of Hypnos. "There. The passage has been granted to you, Empress."
Unlike the heavily sealed entrances dominating most places in Tartarus, this slit-like passage stood wide open.
Aurora's footsteps echoed sharply into the large, cavernous chamber. Glowing, iridescent crystals adorned the massive cave system's surfaces, stretching up the chasm walls as far as the eye could see.
The multi-coloured, prismatic stones reflected their walking silhouettes as they hiked down the steadily declining soil. She had to be mindful of her steps; the ground was occasionally marred by slithering, raised dunes — likely the petrified roots of the ancient tree above.
"Who cut this thing down?" Aurora asked, placing her palm against a smooth, crystallised panel.
"It is some of Hypnos's early work, long before he discovered the realm of dreams with the Oneiroi," Thanatos smiled. His visage froze, as though suddenly lost in reminiscence. "He was full of dreams of his own."
Aurora's lips twitched at the awful pun. She respected him just enough to spare him a snide remark.
"What was it like?" Aurora asked, her voice softening. "At the beginning of time?"
"Before Cronos?" He shot her an amused glance.
"You know what I meant," Aurora said bluntly. As they walked, the singular passage ahead appeared entirely boundless.
"Ah… no mood for jests." He wiped the smirk off his face, his tone turning sombre. "In those rare moments, we were young. We were still figuring out our exact roles in the universe. It was rather… cosy, but terribly lonely."
"I think I understand what that feels like." She lightly brushed her hand against his clasped arm. "I mean the last part, anyway."
He chuckled softly. "Then, the real work started, right after the primordial parents conjured the day and the heavens."
Flapping his majestic wings to glide over a particularly high root, Thanatos traced his fingers across a prism and plucked a small chunk to inspect. "It wasn't long before the cosmos began to prosper. The Titans came, and… well. I'm sure you know the rest."
"Is it true you used to stand by the dead, bringing their souls to the Forsaken Shore?"
"Sort of…" He smiled enigmatically. "I always like to serve, never to lead. It is embedded in my divine nature. So, I did exactly what I was commanded to do by the Lord of the Underworld."
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"Ah…" Aurora murmured, connecting the dots. "So, we are going after your former master."
"I do not pick sides, if that is what concerns you."
Aurora met his gaze, holding it for a long moment. "It's just that I know you're capable of something far more complex than just being the Daemon of Death."
"That is a wild statement, don't you think?" Thanatos offered a rare, genuine smile.
"It was supposed to be a jest."
Eventually, the two reached the very edge of the cave. Here, the crystallised chasm walls abruptly terminated into sheer darkness. A singular, glowing orb levitated directly in the centre of the void.
Shielding her eyes against its brilliant glare, Aurora took a hesitant step forward.
Instantly, she sank into a vacuum. Her heart leapt into her throat as a profound stripping of her senses washed over her, the disorienting hallmark of dimensional travel.
No mortal could ever grow accustomed to the feeling of absolute null. The downward dimensional pull was inexplicable, entirely unlike conventional gravity. It felt as though her entire being — her spirit, her mind, and her very grip on reality — was being violently dragged across the cosmic tapestry.
She fell through the crushing darkness and violently emerged into the freezing vacuum of space. The only light source was an alien sun backlighting her fragile silhouette. Her gasp tore from her lungs as a soundless scream in the void. There was nothing around them but a suffocating, starless night.
Black feathers drifted silently past her vision. Thanatos appeared beside her, his massive wings spreading wide with terrifying elegance against the cosmic backdrop.
His golden mask glinted, illuminated by the distant sun, as his pale fingers reached out to grasp her hand.
Do not be afraid, he said, his voice reverberating directly into her mind.
With a powerful downward flap of his wings, she felt a sudden, massive acceleration.
Then, a small dot in the endless sea of darkness rapidly expanded. It was a planet. Its sheer scale was staggering, easily four times the size of Earth.
Pulling her securely by the arm, Thanatos ushered her down, plunging them directly into the alien atmosphere.
Sound suddenly rushed back into her ears, the howling winds screaming past her armour and cloak. She could finally hear her own frantic breaths.
They soared past the vast outlines of unfamiliar continents — landmasses that definitely did not exist on Earth. As they descended further into the atmosphere, those outlines resolved into rugged terrain. Far in the distance, the brimming smoke and faint glowing lights of an unknown civilisation were visible against the night.
Thanatos picked out a somewhat flat stretch of terrain at the edge of a roaring river, guiding them into a smooth landing.
Still reeling and disoriented, Aurora fell to her knees, gasping. "This… this must be another solar system." The air she pulled into her lungs was remarkably fresh, though it carried a faint, metallic tang of sulphur.
Thanatos allowed her a moment to catch her breath. He stood patiently, clasping his hands behind his lower back as his great wings tucked neatly out of sight.
She looked up at the sky. There were no sparkling dots. No familiar stars. No constellations.
The chilling realisation finally struck her, causing her lips to part in awe and dread.
"Another universe?" Aurora whispered, her pale face turning toward her companion.
Thanatos offered a slow, solemn nod. He traced her gaze up into the endless abyss above, staring into the dark with a haunting intensity.
***
Inside the throne room of the crystal palace, Hera, the Queen of Heaven, sat cross-legged. Her wide, luminous eyes lingered on a magnificent peacock fan.
Hundreds of iridescent eyes dotted the arrayed feathers, each one acting as a scrying glass, transmitting surveillance footage from across Neptunion.
Unbeknownst to Aurora, one such vibrant plume — bearing a deep-ocean eye — drifted silently through the distant sky. It blinked, tracking her and Thanatos's every move.
Hera smirked, licking her plump lips in anticipation.
A grinding groan echoed through the chamber. The towering double doors, easily fifty metres high, swung open to let a harsh amber light filter into the pristine room.
Like a beacon of ruin, Empusa, the Supreme Arch-Demoness, entered. Raging fire served as her hair, the writhing flames rising high between two straight, jagged horns.
"Queen of Heaven." Empusa dropped to one knee, her chin tucked toward her ample chest.
Her dark armour concealed little, proudly baring her crimson skin. A tail of flame coiled neatly around one of her copper-hued legs, while her grotesque, leathery black wings tucked tightly behind her back in a gesture of absolute submission.
"Everything is in order, I presume," Hera said, refusing to meet the hideous creature's gaze.
As repulsive as the demons were, the goddess couldn't deny their usefulness. Her fingers absentmindedly stroked the stem of the peacock fan.
"Yes, Goddess," Empusa replied. Her voice was a high-pitched squeal, and her sharp, crooked teeth parted in what was meant to be a joyful smile. "Since you granted us these fertile lands, our people have spread like wildfire over dry hay. We've reached tens of billions in our demonic forces, if my calculations are correct…"
Hera pretended to rub her brow, hiding a dismayed eye roll.
Clearly, these creatures were instruments of great destruction, not great mathematicians.
"All thanks to…" Empusa trailed off, scanning the massive room. She suddenly realised they were the only two present for this war council.
"If you're looking for Hades," Hera surmised, her tone dripping with all-knowing superiority, "he is no longer keen to be a part of this war."
"Oh…" Empusa gasped, her gaze falling to the polished floor. "I was meant to thank him for giving us Neptunion to thrive in."
"Thank me instead." Hera's voice boomed as she shot to her feet.
Her piercing gaze cast down upon the demoness, as searing as a scorching sun and as unforgiving as frosted ice.
Empusa shrank back, her wings collapsing further. "Yes, yes… Of course. We thank you as well, Goddess."
"Let's return to the agenda, shall we?" Hera waved a dismissive hand. "What is the state of the arsenal?"
Empusa blinked a few times until clarity returned to her features. "Oh, right! The grand smiths have been working around the clock. The forges haven't stopped burning since the dawn of our kind."
The demoness puffed out her chest. "Billions of warriors are fully equipped with plate armour and weapons."
Hera nodded contemplatively. She suppressed the urge to demand an exact number, or even a realistic estimate.
Billions was a good enough figure for a drawn-out war of attrition. The sheer volume would starve Aurora's mana reserves. No mortal, no matter how extraordinary, possessed the stamina to fuel a prolonged battle against tens of millions, let alone hundreds.
Seeing the pleasant curve of Hera's purple lips, Empusa began to chant with fanatic fervour.
"No force can withstand the relentless flood of the Helltides! That wretch shall soon reap what she has sown. My minions screamed in pain and agony, but their sacrifice will not go to waste. When she falls, I shall rip her entrails out and eat—"
"Of course," Hera interrupted sharply, cutting off what would surely become a cyclic, raging monologue of vengeance. "Now, our arch-nemesis has arrived in South Yemine, near the river."
With a flick of her finger, one of the illusory plumes spun toward the Demoness. The visual projection caused Empusa to groan and howl in hatred at the sight of the elven empress.
"Fortunately, that is not where your war camps are located," Hera noted, her tone softening slightly.
The other peacock plumes shifted, displaying the geographical locations of the demonic horde. The closest camp was roughly a hundred kilometres to the north. Two equally massive encampments flanked the region, hundreds of kilometres to the east and west.
It appeared the demons already had Aurora surrounded.
Scratching one of her horns, the Demoness arched a flaming brow. "Then I need to relocate my forces immediately—"
Hera raised an elegant index finger. "No, no… don't do that just yet."
She settled back into her cushioned chair, interlacing her fingers. Contemplative. Before Empusa could open her hideous mouth and spoil the air with her breath again, the goddess smiled.
"Let's use that thing."
Empusa's eyes sparked with malice, her flaming hair bursting even higher with sheer excitement. "Yes! Yes, Your Excellency! Such a perfect opportunity."
The Demoness paused, smirking from ear to ear. "The Unsullied is… at your command, my Queen."
***
Heavy boots squelching in the mud, Aurora trudged through the desolate landscape along the riverbank.
An occasional breeze swept past, carrying the foul stench of sulphur. It was a telltale sign that demons had crawled over this region like roaches. Yet, beneath the rot, lingering traces of life suggested this place hadn't always been a wasteland.
The dawn light was just beginning to crest the horizon, yet strangely, stars continued to dot the sky.
Aurora frowned, her mind snagging on the anomaly. It should have been the exact opposite. The brilliant light of the sun or Helios, according to Thanatos's claims, should have easily outshone the night sky by now.
If there were no stars and constellations visible during the day before, how could they be shining now?
Her eyes narrowed. She watched as the glowing dots in the upper atmosphere enlarged rapidly, hurtling downward.
They weren't stars at all.
They were ballistic warheads.
Instinct seized her. She grabbed Thanatos's hand, halting him mid-stride.
"Phoros!" Aurora screamed.
A shimmering, golden sphere of essence violently encased them — snapping into existence just a fraction of a second before the first warhead detonated.
Hundreds, if not thousands, of high-yield explosions thundered across the valley in a deafening symphony of destruction. The flashing amber and crimson fire was overwhelmingly intense, bleaching the entire area into a blinding white void.
Waves of blistering heat and extreme differential pressure pulverised the earth. Massive shockwaves pushed the debris into gargantuan mushroom clouds, the apocalyptic pillars growing taller and wider with every passing second.
And from the heavens, the false stars just kept falling, falling, falling…
