Leora gave a cheerful smile. "Let's go, Varo," she said, pulling Varo toward the train attendant, who smiled warmly at them.
He followed Leora, keeping his gaze forward, letting the old man's glare fade into the shadows behind them.
Warm lights illuminated the train's narrow corridors. Passengers sat in cozy compartments, wrapped in blankets or chatting quietly, with the train's gentle hum providing a soothing backdrop. Varo took his seat next to Leora, who seemed relieved to be away from the old man.
Leora leaned back and sighed, her gaze softening as she looked at him. "It's not easy out here. People will assume things about you—about us—but it's important not to let that define you."
Varo nodded, still processing what had happened. The world outside the window faded into streaks of dark forest and glimmers of starlight. He knew he was far from home, far from any comfort he had known, but something about Leora's presence felt... grounded.
"Thank you," he said quietly, not meeting her eyes. He was not sure what she had done or why she was helping him, but a faint sense of gratitude rose within him.
As the train clattered on, he fell asleep, lulled by the rhythmic sway. His final conscious thought was of the faint scent of the glowing leaves and forest—a surreal memory that faded as he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
---
'I can see,' he realized. He quickly felt for his fatal injury—the diagonal cut across his torso—and found it, but it caused no pain. The two-centimeter slit started to leak a black foreign gas. It stung his eyes, tasted like burning acid, and smelled like ice.
"What exactly is this?" Varo was terrified. "Am I dead?"
"What you are experiencing is an active echo of your fragmented imagination," a voice rippled.
Varo looked around to see where the voice came from. All he saw was darkness. A piercing gaze of lilac eyes shot at him through the darkness. Wisps of reddish aura rose up like smoke from the eyes, dissipating with the darkness. It was intricate and eerie yet beautiful.
He took a step toward the eyes and found himself standing on nothing, tossed uncontrollably by the Styx. It was frightening and disorienting, as if he had fallen through the sky. He instinctively got on all fours and clenched his abdomen.
"In simple terms, you clung to a wishful reality until your death; you are almost but not quite dead," the voice continued. "Sad and pathetic."
Varo could not say a word. He stayed in this bowing position, gasping for air. It began slowly, then progressed to raspy, uncontrollable wheezes.
A clap broke through the silence. "You can't even breathe right." The dark thickened to a sludgy substance, clawing up and devouring. Varo started to sink.
Varo wiggled and thrashed for hours on end. He continued to hyperventilate and gasp for air. After all the struggles, he wanted to let go. He wanted to be at peace. It was despair.
"How long has he been there?" a feminine voice yelled, tinged with chastisement. "Stabilize him."
The other voice replied, "He should have passed by now."
There was silence. Varo could no longer hear the voices. A ghastly aura hissed around him, and death was undoubtedly lurking in the darkness. Varo found the change in atmosphere to be aggravating, but he continued to struggle regardless.
"Remain calm," her voice called.
Varo felt his body lighten, almost weightless, as he was drawn out of the darkness by a telepathic force. Despite the fact that he was no longer in the dark, his breath trembled with fatigue.
"Breathe with me," she said softly. "In... out."
Her words echoed in his head—in... out... in... Her voice was a calming lull. He followed her instructions. With a deep inhale and a wafty exhale, his vision cleared.
His eyes widened. Varo saw a plane so vast, it almost made him yelp. The backdrop's tall, gloom columns appeared to look down at him. Beads of sweat ran down his face.
Varo looked up to see her—she had a luminous aura that played with the darkness. She appeared pale and ghostly on her right half, while her left was dark and shadowed.
She leaned in closer to Varo. "Do not be scared; you are safe now," she said softly. Her gaze shifted to something—or someone—behind Varo.
"Zagreus, what did you do? Why is...?" She paused, her gaze drawn to Varo, who had raised her concern. "...this mortal leaking ichor?"
Varo was exhausted; he had no idea what was going on and was still struggling to breathe. What the hell is ichor? he thought.
Varo sensed another aura behind him, piercing like shrapnel. He wanted to turn back, but his instincts did not dare act on the thought.
Zagreus' glowing eyes thrummed with an ominous flush of waves. He mumbled, "What nonsense! Let me see." He suddenly appeared in front of Varo, his eyes fixed on him. The silence spoke louder than words.
Zagreus' eyes were a riot of swirling purple. His hair flickered like flames, while jagged spiked antlers curved like a fig crown over his head.
Varo shut his eyes, his mind racing, overwhelmed by the aura of the strange deities staring him down. Every fiber of Varo's being screamed to escape this moment. It was like being gradually crushed by two invisible forces.
"Unprecedented! It is ichor, albeit unrefined," Zagreus said, squinting. "No mortal should possess this, especially in this quantity."
She stared at Varo as if he were a relic. Her aura spiked. She smiled from ear to ear, barely holding back her excitement.
"Brother, may we confer? I have a proposal," she said.
Zagreus observed her reaction with interest. "Very well," he replied.
She turned to look at Varo. "We would like to discuss, so go to that column over there." She smiled and pointed to a leaning column in the distance. "Do not forget to breathe."
Varo nodded and began walking to where he was directed. He could not dare to defy her because he knew it meant certain death. Why should he, anyway?
Varo's steps were empty, and he felt like a hollow shell walking with each one. Completely powerless. He staggered and fell to the foot of the column, possibly due to his mind unraveling, the painful sensation of breathing through an acidic leak from himself, or his struggles with being in the presence of deities. Who knows.
He sat and looked at the literal crack in himself. He lost focus, and his thoughts returned to the forest when he was with Leora. Tears welled up.
What will become of me? I don't even know my sin. I remember nothing. I don't know how this ichor thing got into my body, he thought, sniffling.
He would rather be a slave because he feared the worst from the terrifying deities.
Varo slowly dipped his hand into his body, curiously watching the ichor escape.
"Unacceptable!" Zagreus' voice thundered.
Varo jolted and wiped his tears. The deities were not where he had last seen them.
Thunder crackled and roared.
The wind suddenly howled, whipping auras into spirals that mauled everything in its path. The chaotic clash stretched endlessly across the plane.
A whip of aura crashed into a column, which was instantly turned to dust. Lightning tore through the landscape, etching and reshaping it.
Varo saw this. He was scared. He did not want to get caught up in it, but there was nothing he could do against such a scale of destruction. He was finished.
An untamed aura swept toward Varo. It was like a giant rolling wall too vast to get around, too high to leap over, and outpacing it was a pipe dream.
This is my punishment; I must have done something truly evil. At least it appears to be painless, Varo thought, closing his eyes.
A rattling bang shook Varo, so loud that he had to cover his head to keep it from exploding. He slowly opened his eyes, the reverberations echoing throughout his body.
She stood in front of Varo and smacked the aura away. "You did well staying where I asked you to, mortal," she said to Varo before turning to Zagreus, who was levitating above them.
"We have waited three millennia for the pantheon to return," she said, levitating to Zagreus. "And you think my proposal is drastic and unacceptable!" she yelled.
Varo had a dreadful front-row seat to witness two contending deities.