The eerie silence of the dark forest was shattered by a spine-chilling scream that echoed through the trees. The sound carried a wretched symphony of pain and suffering, causing every living creature in the vicinity to instinctively flee from the origin of the horrifying cry. In the heart of this nightmarish chorus stood Haemon, a formidable warrior, gripping his empty eye socket with both hands as he collapsed to his knees. He fought valiantly to suppress the escalating agony coursing through his body, but his efforts proved futile. In an instant, his entire being erupted into an inferno, as if every bone and muscle underwent a cataclysmic transformation. Haemon became a conduit for something dark and extraordinary, embodying the essence of each race from the vast tapestry of nine worlds. A sickening mixture of black blood and his own entrails spilled from his mouth, painting a gruesome picture of his torment.
Realizing the precariousness of his situation, Haemon urgently called upon his loyal squirrel companion. "Ratatosk, come to me!" he commanded, his voice strained with pain. Without hesitation, the devoted rodent scurried to his master's side, carrying the severed head of Mimir, a wise and ancient being. "I am here, my lord!" the squirrel exclaimed, hoisting Mimir's head above its own. Sensing the urgency, Haemon gritted his teeth, determined to remain conscious. He extended his trembling hand forward, a desperate gesture that tore through the fabric of reality, opening a sinister black portal before him. Summoning all his strength, the warrior managed to rise to his feet and, together with his faithful servant, stepped into the void. He sought refuge, a respite from the chaos, where he could recuperate undisturbed.
First Circle
In the realm of Hel, the ruler of the underworld, a moment of tranquility was shattered as a bloodied figure materialized out of thin air, crashing onto her unsuspecting head. Haemon, his body drenched in his own crimson essence, tumbled onto a stack of ancient scrolls, irreversibly defacing them. Hel, towering above her fallen husband, hissed in fury, her anger mirroring the venomous nature of a serpent. "Haemon, I explicitly warned you against meddling with Baldr! Why must you always defy me?" she seethed, tearing the tainted scrolls from beneath his lifeless form. As she clenched her hand in frustration, the parchments turned as black as tar, their ancient wisdom marred by the chaos that followed her husband.
Taking a deep breath to calm herself, Hel muttered with exasperation, "Oh, the hardships of being a woman in a world dominated by men!" Discarding the ruined papers, the giantess swiftly lifted her unconscious husband, determined to carry him to their chamber. However, her intentions were interrupted by the sudden emergence of a creature from beneath, causing her to step back and release her burden. Haemon's colossal frame crashed to the ground, motionless and unresponsive. It appeared that his weight nearly crushed the tiny Ratatosk, who now arched its back, gasping for air in desperate need of respite. The squirrel raised a single finger, silently beseeching the queen for a moment's reprieve to catch its breath.
"Great, you send him for knowledge, and he brings all sorts of creatures into the house. How lucky I am with my husband," sarcastically remarked Hel as she looked at the rodent. "I beg your pardon, madam. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Ratatosk, former guardian of the World Tree..." The rodent wanted to continue, but the queen interrupted him with a dismissive gesture. "Oh, I know very well who you are. Tell me, why did my foolish husband need a pet rat!?" Hel looked at the animal in front of her with obvious disgust.
"Well, actually, I am a squirrel, and your esteemed husband considered me quite useful, Lady Hel," replied the rodent, scratching his head. "Ha-ha, oh really? And what's so special about you? I don't think your ability to open acorns is useful for our family," Hel covered her mouth with her hand, unable to contain her wild laughter at Ratatosk's words. "Ha-ha, how funny. You'll burst out laughing," sarcastically said the rodent, turning away. He didn't want to genuinely anger his owner's wife, so he refrained from saying anything unnecessary. However, he noticed just in time how a small blue demon was about to devour the severed head of an old man.
With a cry, the squirrel delivered a hard blow to the demon's jaw, snatching the head away. He immediately approached the queen and handed her the head. "Looks like he didn't waste any time after all. Please, just tell me how this old man managed to get into such a situation on his own?" Taking the head in her hands, the queen examined it carefully. "In a way, yes and no! But in general, Mimir asked us to bring him to you so that you could bring him back to life," the guardian quickly explained, gesturing with his tiny paws. "Excellent, then I'll do it right now," the queen raised the severed head in front of her face and whispered something incomprehensible. Suddenly, her eyes lit up with a dark green color, and she slowly blew on the wise man's face, breathing new life into him. Mimir coughed heavily and abruptly opened his golden eyes. "Long time no see, wise man of the nine realms!" Hel greeted him with a smile. "Oh, and I'm glad to see you too, Hel," Mimir smiled back, displaying his pearly white teeth.
"I would love to have a conversation with you, but you see, I still need to put my husband to bed. So, I'm afraid you'll have to hold back your ancient stories," Hel said, throwing the head to the squirrel and attending to her husband.
"Mimir, my old friend, I was so worried about you!" The rodent tightly hugged his old friend's head, tears of joy in his eyes. "Ha-ha, I'm glad to see you too, my toothier friend. But tell me, why was the Olympian lying unconscious on the floor?" The old man asked with curiosity and concern in his voice. "I have no idea! But he seemed to have done everything you told him to. Did the same thing happen with Odin?" The squirrel turned his friend's head towards the royal chambers. "That's the thing, it didn't happen with Odin. Hm, we'll have to wait before jumping to conclusions," Mimir said, furrowing his brow. "By the way, maybe we should visit the local buffet? Perhaps it would be better for us," the rodent suggested, to which Mimir immediately agreed. Both friends quickly headed towards the infernal kitchen.
Placing the barbarian gently on the bed, the queen lay down beside him. She held her husband in a strong embrace, using her power to heal him, but to no avail. His body and mind remained tormented by unbearable pain. Frustration etched on her face, the queen absentmindedly placed a hand on her stomach, her thoughts drifting to their unborn children. "If you continue like this, our children may become orphans. But perhaps you care neither for yourself nor for them. It is your nature, Olympian," Hel spoke, her gaze cold as ice. She tenderly caressed the barbarian's cheek, her voice filled with sorrow. "You crave death, even if you deny it."
Suddenly, Hel's attention was drawn to a figure lurking in the shadows of the room. She sighed heavily, her eyes fixated on the observer. "Perhaps you should reveal yourself, Lady Lilith. Or do you prefer to watch from the shadows like pitiful worms?" A woman's laughter echoed through the chamber, but Hel silenced her fallen queen with a gesture. "Oops, I'm sorry. I forgot about him," whispered the red-haired woman, stepping out from the darkness and covering her mouth with her hand.
With a mere gesture and a subtle expression, the giantess invited the queen to share her bed. Reluctantly, the queen accepted, sitting beside her newfound companion. "Do you take pleasure in watching others in their intimate moments?" Hel inquired, raising an eyebrow. Lilith smirked, her gaze cunning and mischievous. "I take pleasure in various forms of desire, but I must confess, there is no passion here. There is no love within you or within him," Lilith revealed, pointing her finger at the sleeping warrior. Hel sighed, her eyes fixed on her husband. "Our relationship is complicated, to say the least," she conceded. Lilith's smirk widened, her eyes narrowing with a dangerous glint. "Those who often say such things end up killing their partners. But I sense a genuine desire for him in you," Lilith taunted, her voice dripping with cunning. Hel caressed her own cheek, lost in thought. "Perhaps, but I doubt he shares the same sentiment," she murmured. "Initially, I merely intended to welcome you. However, sensing something extraordinary entering our world, I opted to observe from the shadows. And I must admit, I am astounded that such a being even exists." The red-eyed mother of demons sparkled with dangerous excitement, her thirst evident.
Upon noticing Lilith's intense gaze, Hel abruptly snapped her fingers, demanding the demoness's attention. "What are you implying?" the queen asked, her voice tinged with anger. Lilith playfully slapped her friend's knee. "Oh, you married him without truly knowing what he is?" she teased. Hel's patience wore thin as she responded, her eyes piercing Lilith with a desire to wipe the arrogant smirk from her face. "I know he is an Olympian, the son of Hades himself. But I suspect you possess far more knowledge than I do!" Hel's impatience was palpable. Lilith lightly tapped the warrior's leg with her claws, causing him to stir slightly but not awaken. Noticing the evil grin on Hel's face, she teasingly smiled. "You could say you are partially correct. For he has two fathers and two mothers. Two bestowed upon him mortal flesh, while two others bestowed upon him an immortal spirit. Ha-ha, a child who inherited the best and worst from all worlds." Lilith tapped the warrior's leg again, her claws grazing his skin. Hel's eyes widened at the mere notion that someone had delved into the very essence of his soul. "Are you suggesting that someone delved into the depths of his soul?" The giantess was awestruck, contemplating the possibility. Lilith's gaze met Hel's, seeking permission to touch her husband. Hel nodded, granting the beast her request.
"Something along those lines. His unfortunate soul bears the scars of two powerful beings who invaded it simultaneously, forever altering its essence. What was once a beautiful creation has been transformed into something grotesque and abominable," Lilith explained, her eyes fixed on Hel. With permission granted, she reached out to touch the warrior, intending to expose his hidden secrets.
The touch of the witch sent a shiver down the Olympian's spine, plunging her into a trance that seemed to suspend time itself. As her pupils rolled back, revealing only the whites of her eyes, a thick drool of saliva escaped her parted lips. The giantess, astounded by the spectacle, carefully observed every twitch and convulsion, her mind racing with questions. Who possessed the audacity to wield such power? Even the primordial beings, the ancient ones who shaped the very fabric of existence, were bound by universal laws. The sanctity of souls was an inviolable edict that even the fallen ones dared not defy.
Light, the essence of creation, had bestowed life upon each being, and the nature of their souls was entrusted to their own decisions. The soul, the wellspring of strength and potential, determined the limits of one's abilities. Yet, it seemed that higher powers had meddled with this Olympian essence long before his birth. The giantess contemplated the implications, awed by the notion that destiny could be shaped by forces beyond mortal comprehension.
"What do you see?" Hel whispered, her voice barely audible amidst the profound silence. Lilith, her eyes still rolled back, responded with a faint tremor in her voice, "Ha-ha, as I mentioned earlier, his soul has indeed been tampered with." Her words carried a mix of fascination and concern. "There was a woman, an artisan of souls, delicately sculpting and molding with precision. She sought to create a masterpiece, assembling fragments and stitching them together, fashioning her own unique creation."
Lilith paused, her breath becoming ragged. "But then, a presence darkened the scene. A malevolence, brimming with anger and malice, descended upon the soul like a plague-stricken beast. It refused to wait, abandoning reason and clung to the essence with its wicked black claws, intent on tearing it apart and devouring it whole. Two mighty forces clashed, grappling for dominance, unwilling to yield an inch. They tore and bit, locked in a chaotic battle of wills. And this poor boy, caught in the midst of their maddening conflict, became a pawn in their insane struggle."
As Lilith's account grew more intense, her breathing escalated into heavy gasps. Foam frothed at the corners of her mouth, a physical manifestation of the immense strain she endured. Hel, alarmed by the distress of her companion, seized Lilith's trembling shoulders and pleaded, "Tell me their names! Who are these two forces?"
"I... CAN'T!" Lilith's anguished cry reverberated through the air. Blood trickled from every orifice of her body, painting a grotesque tableau of suffering. She writhed in excruciating pain, desperate to escape the torment. In a desperate attempt to protect Lilith, Hel lunged forward, gripping her husband's hand tightly, desperately trying to stop him from snapping the witch's fragile neck. "Hamon, no!" she shouted, her voice tinged with desperation. But the Olympian's rage-fueled grip remained unyielding, threatening to extinguish Lilith's fragile life.