It was cold. Smooth beneath my palms, the railing of the balcony felt as if the metal itself had soaked up the melancholy of the place.Leaning forward a few centimeters, I realized the bay of oily green water where I'd awakened wasn't just immense — it curved upon itself, as if its farthest arms, stretching into infinity, were destined to meet again.A perfect circle. Or rather, a colossal doughnut infested with souls, I thought, true to my usual caustic vein.
The Arks moved slowly toward the center, pushed by invisible forces. In that geometric, obsessive motion, I felt like I was watching a self-contained universe: at its heart, suspended like a black core, burned a dark sun. Not a star like any other — a gigantic black disc, a cosmic 45-rpm record throbbing with reddish glints, reflecting off the waters and staining everything it touched with a somber glow.
"I see you've already noticed the black sun."
I turned sharply. To my right, appearing out of nothing, stood Charon himself. No oar, thank heaven. His eyes were hollowed under bony arches, his beard encrusted with salt and ash — and yet, in his gaze, an unnatural light, almost pleased.
"Your illustriousness…" I blurted automatically.
His eyes flashed a brighter red, satisfied by the courtesy."You chose a fine cabin," he said, almost genial, like a concierge at a five-star hotel. "You'll probably be the only soul to notice where you're all headed before disembarking."
The casual tone unsettled me. The idea that the most famous ferryman of the underworld was making small talk with me felt wrong. There had to be a reason.I tried a loftier approach. "What brings a helmsman as mighty as you to my humble quarters? I am, needless to say, honored by your visit, Most Venerable."
His mouth twitched, unimpressed by my flattery. "Nothing special. I thought I'd visit the more… affluent passengers, to see who I'll be dealing with. The world you're bound for is ruled by a timocracy. And you — with your starting assets — could go far. If you seize the right opportunities." He winked.
I didn't like that conspiratorial tone, but I played along. "And where exactly am I headed?"
His dirty beard opened in an ambiguous smile — a sneer I couldn't quite read. "Isn't it obvious?"
"No," I said flatly.
"That this is Hell, surely. The question is: why are you here?"
I swallowed. "With respect, I don't think I deserve it. I lived an honest life, no remarkable sins to my name."
His laughter burst out suddenly, freezing my blood. "You? You still believe in the fairy tale of Heaven for the good and Hell for the wicked?"
I was speechless. Every dogma I'd been fed in boarding school, every neat line dividing good from evil, vanished into thin air. Lies. Fairy tales. Like that old song said — stories of God, stories of lies.
I stammered, "But… even Dante spoke of it. Haven't you ever met him?"
His gaze turned molten. "Never utter that name in my presence again," he snarled. "Unless you want me to crack open that insignificant skull of yours."
I shut up. The universe around us reacted to his rage: space itself flickered blood-red, tiny crimson stars flaring like sparks from a welder's torch. If a name could shake him like that, maybe Dante hadn't written pure fantasy after all — but this wasn't the time to ask.
Charon regained his composure. "Anyway," he said curtly, "if you ever need anything — anything at all — remember, money rules here. Grease the gears, and your stay will be lighter. Many of the damned pay dearly for a glimpse of their loved ones back on the mortal plane."
The name slipped out before I could stop it. "Clara…"
His eyes turned violet. "When you wish, come to me." And he vanished in a burst of fire and brimstone.
I stayed there, leaning on the railing, dazed. My knees were weak, my stomach tight. I looked back toward the horizon: the black sun, now enormous, devoured the view. It had surely once been a star — maybe a celestial giant. Now it was only a black hole, around which planetoids spun like iron filings drawn to a magnet. Whole worlds in orbit, circling that cosmic abyss forever.
I'd never been much of a science guy. I only knew that a black hole was a collapsed star, devouring even light itself. But this one… shone. It gleamed with red reflections, as if the laws of matter had been turned inside out. Or, more likely, I'd never understood a damn thing about physics.
I stared at that impossible phenomenon, wondering what other disquieting marvels awaited me in a world like this. The gnawing in my gut wasn't the fear of a condemned man, but the unease of a traveler — a reversed nostos, an endless exile toward a land I hadn't chosen. I felt like an immigrant without a homeland, without prospects, without even desires.
And then, right on cue, like an out-of-scale guitar solo, a voice broke into my head:The hammer of the gods will drive our ships to new lands,to fight the horde, singing and crying: Valhalla, I am coming!Robert Plant screamed inside me, ripping through the silence of space.
A shiver ran down my spine. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. The hard part now would be adjusting to this new, sinister world — one that seemed, at every step, to demand my head.
I stayed there thinking for a long while, until my knees begged for rest. Then I went back inside. The black key, topped with a tiny lapis-lazuli skull, creaked in the lock. I turned it. The hinge groaned, revealing a room lit by the warm glow of a burning fireplace.
I pulled off my tie — which now felt like a noose — and tossed it on the bed. The jacket followed onto the hanger. The air smelled of burned wood, spices, and old velvet. A polished parquet reflected the firelight; golden filigree curled through the rugs under my feet; oil paintings hung on the walls, saturated and heavy with color. Too much splendor, too much luxury, for an ordinary dead man.
A shamelessly familiar scent drew me in: the decanter of scotch on the table caught the firelight, turning the amber liquid into a rain of rainbows. I poured myself three generous fingers into a cut-crystal glass and drank. The taste was liquid nostalgia — comfort burning my throat and setting my chest ablaze.
That's when I felt it.
I wasn't alone in the room.