"If you know what's best for you," Dolus's voice invades my mind. "Don't ever temper with things that are beyond your control again."

???

HE EMBRACES MY DEAD BODY, sobbing loudly, questioning fate.

I kneel before him. My hands go right through him, for I'm no longer made from flesh and blood. My voice is unheard of in the living, and my touch is nothing but a breeze. I gaze at the body I once owned, hardening and turning cold, losing its glimmer. His mother kept a hand on Perseus's shoulder, offering her condolences in silence, but even she couldn't contain her emotions.

"It's time to go."

I rise to my feet and turn towards the figure in black. He wields a silver scythe that traps the pleadings of lost souls. His body is entirely secured in a cloak, black as tar, deeper than the sea, with only his face peeking out of the hood. His terrifying appearance was no stranger to the eyes. His face holds little to no skin, making his bone structure apparent, and his voice is hoarse and husky. He had eyes, but they were pitch black. It feels as though you're staring into a dark hole, and the longer you stare, the faster you lose your mind.

Thanatos, the God of Death.

His bony fingers reached out, and I took it. Though I possess no flesh, I felt the icy surface of his touch. With my hand in his, he lifts his scythe and slashes an opening in the air. A portal appears, growing larger every second. What lies behind it is the underworld.

I took one last glance at Perseus, who was still mourning over me.

"I can tell you now," the God of Death catches my glimpse of him, but he keeps his visions ahead. "He'll never move on."

And with that, he led us straight into the portal.

The portal closed behind us, and our hands were freed. I was welcomed by the scent of rotten eggs and burnt fabrics. My feet stand on the ground once covered with lava, feeling the crusty surface beneath them. The underworld is dark, and the skies are black, with only flames from the fiery pits lighting the place. Though there was fire, it was freezing. There was no balance.

My heart stops at the sound of footprints approaching my side. Before I could turn, a male soul, still in his battle armor, passed me and joined a queue of other souls. My eyes trace the line to the two arch paths ahead. They are sky-reaching tall, large as the mountains, and guarding the gates are two other deities. The keepers of fate.

"Stay on the path," Thanatos commands, his index finger pointing toward the queue of souls.

"What's happening?" Fear starts taking over, and my voice stutters to even ask a simple question. "Where are all these people going?"

"The aftermath is written in the book of life," he points his weapon toward the gatekeepers. Each holds a book glowing brightly as though they are holding the sun. "What you've done in your life will determine the outcome. No amount of wealth will save you if they're not satisfied."

With his weapon, he taps the ground twice; the clanking sound is familiar. Another portal opens behind him, and he enters it without hesitation.

"Stay on the path," his words repeat in my head.

I journey ahead, one step at a time, and follow the rest. It's a steep bridge where at its sides are endless fiery pits. I hold onto the flimsy railing and keep my chin up.

...

I began reminiscing about the times I've spent in both worlds, as Jonathan and Zelus. Jonathan had no idea that he'd become a daimon and fall into the hands of death. And especially falling for a demigod, which was never on his bucket list. He lived a whole different life where everything was foreign, but somehow, he got used to it. A decade passed—or longer—he lived hard, without a mother, father, or siblings, but the siblings of Zelus by his side. They may have a similar appearance as Jonathan's siblings, but they had no idea who I truly was. Jonathan found a different version of himself, educated himself on his powers, and found the love he never knew existed.

I'm clueless about my age. Perhaps, I'm in my late twenties? Or thirties? Or, based on how my back began feeling like shit for the last couple of years—it's not because of my wings—maybe I'm in my forties? I genuinely don't know.

But, dare I say that I've lived a good life here?

I glance down at my feet, an unexpected smile flashes across my face, and I chuckle at all the good times I had. My toes wriggle to the hardened sand beneath my feet. They hurt, but I'm still chuckling. Have I lost it?

I'm nearing my judgment at every step. The closer I got, the more I knew what'll take place in each gateway. The gatekeeper holds the book of life, where the names of every being, along with their fates, are written. Its face was hidden in the shadows of its cloak, with only a pair of piercing violet eyes reading the book. It was disturbing to see that it had hooves for feet.

The other path simply led to the river of death.

The first path, also known as A Second Chance, is an opportunity for souls to redeem themselves by going through hell for a certain period. And when they have proven themselves to be forgiven, they are offered a new life, whereas, for the other path, there's no such thing as a second chance. The souls trapped beneath the surface howl loud and pitchy that my index fingers would stick into my ears from time to time.

I watch an elderly man, average height yet round and bald, approach the gatekeeper. He stood before it, paranoid with anxiety, awaiting his judgment. His eyes pan back and forth between the gatekeeper and the book of life, hands and knees trembling and his forehead beaded with sweat.

"David Solemn, born and died on your day of birth," the gatekeeper reads from the book. His voice hiss like a viper eying its prey. "A priest at the Temple of Hephaestus."

The book closes and levitates to the side, where the gatekeeper has a clear view of the priest.

"David or some were to address you as, Father David," he starts. "You raped seven servants, two males and five females that were wives and mothers. You butchered animals as a means of giving thanks to Hephaestus when in reality, you found it exhilarating to see these animals dying out of blood loss. Not only that, but you have preached false teachings of the God of Fire."

The priest is now trembling, with his nose and mouth drooling. He reaches into his pockets and tosses gold coins and pieces of jewelry before the gatekeepers, getting to his knees and kissing the ground, washing his face with the dirt.

"Oh, right, you've also conned many followers into believing their valuables are an offering to the Fire God." The gatekeeper teases, glancing down at the treasures. "You've just proven yourself guilty, Father David."

"Have mercy," his voice was shaking.

His head shifts towards the path leading to the river of death. Nothing happened at first, and then two demons spawned at the entrance. They screech almost as though they are laughing. Their bat-like wings lift them toward the priest as their talons pierce through his chest, carrying him to his fate.

"Please, I'm begging you!" The priest cried.

The moment he was released into the river, the struggle stopped. At least above the surface. Beneath? I can only imagine.

If I wasn't scared before, or maybe I was, now I'm petrified, and I couldn't do anything about it. I'm in the land of judgment, and where will I run? I don't have my powers anymore, my wings are gone, and my strength matches a toddler's.

"Next," the gatekeeper commands, and I find myself standing before them.

I got so caught up in the priest's judgment that I hadn't realized I was next. It's my turn to walk with wobbly knees and shaky breath. I may even piss myself if I'm capable of doing that.

"Zelus, the daimon of jealous?" He sounds genuinely confused.

"I will handle this," someone objects from behind.

A familiar voice to my ears. Everyone had turned to end their curiosity; even the gatekeeper had his eyes set ahead.

Dolus.

"Dolus," the gatekeeper calls. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Dolus?" I repeat, and now he's standing by my side, eying the gatekeeper who appeared before us. He reeks of rotting flesh that I had to breathe from my mouth.

"That's my business," he grabs my arm and before his powers become active. The gatekeeper placed the book before us, halting his powers.

"The souls are not to leave without my say, and this is not an exception," he growls.

Dolus slaps the book to a farther distance and creates an energy which sent the gatekeeper crashing at his seat.

"Remember your place," He warns.

With me in his grasp, he brought us to an open field, though, we're still in the underworld.

"What do you—" my words fades as I behold the dark vortex before us.

It feels like I'm standing in front of a vicious tornado that could quickly suck an entire continent clean. Thunders roar loudly within it, enclosing the mysteries that hide within it. I gaze up at the opening that seems to be flashing, and I realize that this is no ordinary vortex.

"What are you going to do to me?" I demand.

"Ugh, I forgot, you're no fun," he mimics my expression. "At least try to enjoy my company because we're never going to see each other again after this."

"Like hell, I would enjoy anything with you," I respond.

"Ironic, isn't it?" He gestures to the surrounding. "I mean, considering where we are."

I remain silent, waiting for an answer.

"Okay look," he starts. "It would seem that our deal has taken an unexpected turn of events."

"Get to the point, Dolus."

"My point is, your ending isn't with these souls. In fact, it isn't your time yet," his eyes are confusing, as they are annoyed yet empathizing. He sighs before stretching his arm out where his powers flow towards me. "I got what I needed; therefore, I will no longer need you."

"You got what you needed?" I repeat, confuse. "I don't get it, what does that have to do with my fate?"

"Man, you really are dumb," he scoffs. "You'll know it soon enough. And to prove that all of this is real, when you wake up, look out the window; a phoenix with feathers blue as ice and a tail ignited with the flames will be waiting for you. Only your eyes could withhold it."

Before I could question him further, my lips seal under his power as they surround me like heavy chains with shackles, tightening at my hands and feet. I close my eyes and embrace the terror that's coming, though I had only felt my legs astray from the ground. My eyelids flutter open to see the distance between Dolus and I growing further. Right then, I perceive that my ending lies within the vortex.

"I got to give you credit once more, Jonathan," his voice is clear in my head, although my eyes couldn't find him anymore. "You're the first after centuries to have beaten me at my own game."

His grasp releases me into the vortex, and I begin spinning endlessly. I perceive darkness with lightning flashes as though I'm soaring in a stormy cloud. I curl up with my legs close to my chest and my face buried in my knees, taking in the stings of the lightning that sends electricity through my veins. The wind picks up, and I'm unaware of what's happening anymore.

My body aches as the pain becomes unbearable. Nevertheless, I remain in position. I begin distracting myself by ruminating about the moments Perseus and I had. The time we kissed, when he wrestled me in front of the class—we were still teenagers then—the time we carelessly played musical instruments because we were bored of studying, the night when I made him a wreath in the royal garden. There's even a time when he purposely jumped out of his window so I'd catch him. Man, I've never been more petrified nor angry as I did then that I kicked his balls the moment we were on solid ground.

It's working, and the pain is lessening.

Out of all the moments we shared, I pondered further about when we left the Graeae cave. He was questioning me as to who Jonathan was. The Graeae used my real name, and he started doubting that I was not who I said I was because those witches never lied. The good thing about him is—well, there are many good things about him. For instance, his strength, skills in weaponry, and, dare I say it, he's amazing in bed—he's easily fooled.

"That's my nickname," I told him. "My friends said Zelus sounded like Zeus, and they said it doesn't suit me as I'm no god material."

"Jonathan?" He says it so nicely.

I nod in agreement.

"It's a nice name; I like that."

"Thanks," I sigh in relief, knowing he believes me.

"Can I have a nickname?" He asks.

"Everyone can have a nickname," I said. "What would you like to be called?"

He began thinking. And the crumpled forehead and the fact that he nearly tripped on a rock show that he's thinking hard.

"What would you call me?"

"Something that's not Perseus?"

"Yes."

"Okay?" Now it's my turn to think. "How about Jeremiah?"

His eyebrows draw together.

"No."

"Lucas?" He shakes his head in disagreement.

"Winston?"

"They're all names I've never heard before, but still, is there any other that doesn't sound so... pathetic?" He asks.

"What about Jacob? Alister? George? Kyle? Sam? Cameron? Thomas? Gideon—"

"That!" His index finger points at me.

"Gideon?"

He nods like Ryan would when I'm holding a treat over her.

"That's a rather peculiar choice," I said.

"Says the one who calls himself, Jonathan."

"Alright then," I glance at him. "Gideon."

My closed eyes could still see his beautiful smile ever so clearly.

The pain is growing stronger, and my thoughts can no longer process anything. I wanted nothing more than for it to stop, but it kept going.

"If you know what's best for you," Dolus's voice invades my mind. "Don't ever temper with things that are beyond your control again."