Scene 1 — Mutarex, the Devourer
The air bent like heated metal as Mutarex manifested—a storm of folding limbs, shadows, molten curves and hunger. Her body curled inward, layer upon layer of muscle and dark silk twisting into a monstrous eclipse. A living maw. A devouring instinct made flesh.
"You… walk into my world unafraid?" Her voice rolled like thunder sinking through honey—heavy, alluring, venomous.
The folds of her form compressed further, twisting into a vortex of hunger as she leaned forward as if to swallow the darkness itself.
Tenebris didn't move. Not a blink. Not a breath. His presence remained the eye of the storm—untouched by her pull, unmoved by her evolution, immune to her devouring aura.
Mutarex's voice slipped across him like molten silk. "Do you not feel the pull of inevitability? The hunger? The evolution that bends all beneath me?"
Still nothing.
She folded tighter, twisting into a living eclipse that wanted to consume the void itself. The maw never closed. She froze as if something in her instincts screamed: This one cannot be touched.
Tenebris simply said: "Decide wisely."
Darkness shuddered around him.
Scene 2 — House visit
"Rick, you've been coming around a lot lately. Is something wrong, sweetheart?"
Her hand touched mine gently. Mrs. John always used my original name—never Hugin, never the divine title. A single word's difference, but the effect still means the world.
"I'm fine," I said, exhaling. "Just exhausted. Overworking, not enough sleep. Thankfully I have people—including your son—handling the mess. So I can actually bask in a warm environment for once."
My eyes drifted over the old photos on the wall.
A shadow moved—someone approaching. The moment I felt the aura, my nerves burned like exposed circuits.
"I'll get the door," I said. "If it's dangerous I'll—"
"Hush." She patted my shoulder and walked past me with surprising ease. Her recent treatments were helping far more than she admitted.
"Rick," she said cheerfully moments later, "I don't think I need to introduce you to the young lady you claim is your brother Johnny's girlfriend."
Teresa walked in behind her—shell-shocked, pale, eyes darting between me and Mrs. John like she wasn't sure whether to run or kneel.
I smirked. The girl wasn't thinking about running from danger. She was anxious about running in front of me.
"Hello Hugi—"
"It's Rick here," I cut her off. "Outside is Hugin. Inside this house, explorers put down their divine titles because an old lady will beat them."
Mrs. John hummed at the stove—calm, domestic, terrifyingly respected by every Explorer on Earth.
I motioned Teresa toward the table, waving at the food. She hesitated—until Mrs. John looked over her shoulder. No one defied that look. Not even us.
"So," I continued, leaning back, "what brings you here? Make it worth it. Baldur knows I'm here, and you're getting an earful for approaching hazardous people."
Teresa flushed. Adorable.
"How do you… know Mrs. John?" she asked.
Another wasted question. I sighed.
"You need better investigation skills. But she loves hearing old stories, so fine—I'll entertain you."
I broke a bread roll in half. She mirrored me.
"I met her through her oldest son."
Her eyes widened. "So you actually were a man before the Underworld started whispering about a demon in sheep's clothing. But if you knew him before the Sea, was it—"
I held up a hand. She caught herself, stopping before wasting another question.
"Alright," she tried again. "What's Tasey like? And why is he tearing up Europe right now?"
Now that was respectable.
"For the second question," I said, "Olympus gave him a reason. Not many things his brother would let him slide on—but this? This is one."
She swallowed. "And the first?"
"He's simple. Parties harder than all his brothers. Loves a good time. Outside family duties, he's barely a criminal. But since he's already labeled one here…" I shrugged. "Why not tear up Europe on a golden pass? Rare opportunity."
Before she could respond, Mrs. John appeared with a full-course breakfast for both of us.
Even gods know to shut up when she cooks.
Scene 3 — Dungeon, Hour 8
"Crow, mana shell—NOW!"
Her voice snapped like a whip.
I flexed my circuits, forcing mana outward to encapsulate Lily as Alexis and Thomas pushed toward the boss. We'd spent the entire day clearing piles of skeletons, ghouls, and specters. This cave was the last floor before the dungeon heart.
"Thomas—NOW!"
The Death Captain lunged, sword raised—Thomas baited the strike, then slammed the blade into the ground. That instant was all I needed.
Lightning gathered in my palm—most would mistake it for a weak discharge, but I rammed mana through my circuits, forcing the element to bend.
The blast tore clean through the Captain's head.
Thomas came crashing down, bisecting the monster in half, ripping the sword free mid-motion and launching himself at the swarm behind it. Tossing his shield to Alexis—she caught it mid-air, switching into a sword-and-shield stance without hesitation.
Good girl.
The battlefield blurred as their instincts fully awakened.
Thomas: cutting through undead like overgrown grass, movements sharpening with every strike—barely noticing he was entering enlightenment.
Alexis: eyes glassed, firing arrows of pure light rather than metal, each shot precise enough to cover his blind spots. While pulling out Thomas's shield and sword when enemies got too close.
I dealt with the one opponent the others couldn't handle: the banshee.
Her silent wails hammered against our souls, gnawing at the edges of our mana.
"I hate chanting but we can't drag this out. " I muttered.
I gathered the leftover light mana from Alexis's arrows, forcing it above the banshee, then forced my own mana into the chaotic world-stream.
The light condensed into a needle.
Straight into her core.
She collapsed into motes.
We really were monsters.
Scene 4 — The Darkness That Looks Back
A cascade of darkness followed my gesture—only to be pulled into a black vortex and spat back at me stronger.
I raised my hand. The darkness vanished into my palm like a scrap returning to its master.
So this world tries to devour my darkness?
Cute.
I flooded more into the realm, testing the limits of how much it could swallow before it broke.
This world… was a potential vassal. But if it couldn't sustain itself after being strengthened?
Then it wasn't worth investing in.
"From the land of darkness," I whispered, "he learned of the wise man from his daughter. In the furthest reaches of time where exist only darkness and silence… I found my duty after resolving my past."
The darkness recoiled—afraid.
Even the grinning monster paused.
Good. She needed to understand where the line stood.
I didn't seek dominance or destruction. I didn't have the time or patience to babysit worlds that would not adapt.
If this vassal state wanted to survive my investments, then it would evolve or die.
Simple.
"I will be in the Tower of Stars."
The world trembled.
"If you have not come to a decision by then, Mutarex… you are not worth dealing with."
The darkness parted before him.
He ascended without looking back.