Everywhere and Nowhere

Fear was an emotion Shadow Scythe had experienced only a few times in her immortal life.

Even before becoming the self-proclaimed 'Goddess of Death', the pale unicorn was not easy to frighten. She had purposefully done everything in her power not to feel fear. And when she became a reaper, Shadow Scythe was confident she had conquered the need to fear.

And yet, the reaper felt agonizing dread upon arriving through the portal to this dark, hellish landscape.

There was no sky above. No stars, no planets, not even a sun. Just a pitch-black horizon where the only light visible came from the lit torches and burning brushes. The ground she walked upon was course and barren—a rocky terrain not unlike a volcanic exterior. The smell of sulfur and ash hung pungent in the air.

From a distance, Shadow Scythe quivered from the sound of harrowing wails, occasionally followed by unearthly screaming. Tartarus had the fortune of being a prison for those who deserved their punishment. But this gruelling, abysmal wasteland was devoid of any habitation or life.

Whatever this realm was, no one deserved to be here.

“What is this place..?” Shadow Scythe finally asked, turning her attention to her two companions. Zeloph had a faint glow around his pale robes and extensive plumage, shining a bit of light into this abyssal void. Madame Doppia stepped out from behind him, closing the glass portal that brought them here. The sly smile beaming from under her hood only infuriated the reaper.

“Pathos,” Zeloph answered, his haughtiness notably absent in his voice. He could hardly keep himself from trembling. “This is where all restless spirits come to dwell. Contrary to what you believe, not all souls are liberated to the afterlife. Sometimes, when one dies after a life filled with wicked deeds, they remain trapped in their decaying flesh, twisted to reflect their abhorrent nature. Here, they are free to rampage across this hellish plane where nothing matters but eternal hunger and anguish.”

A loud series of shrieks came from behind, which alerted the trio as a managed mess of feathers and flesh flew over. A flock of harpies swooped towards one fleeing pony far off the coast, hooked talons and needle-like teeth piercing the colt’s legs, ripping his limb with a clean rip. The poor stallion released a blood-curdling cry, reaching towards them before disappearing into the frenzy of moulting plumage.

Shadow Scythe felt the urge to vomit, looking upon the heinous display, cradling her sickle as she told herself there was nothing she could have done. This was the fate of this pony. And thousands, perhaps millions, would likely join him here. Her mind returned to the Manehattan incident.

Was she responsible for bringing those tragic casualties to Pathos? Or worse; had she been burying souls under tormented soil from the very beginning? The unicorn shook her head, refusing to accept this as her responsibility. She was a death dealer and nothing more. Wherever they journeyed through purgatory is a consequence of their actions in life.

But even if Shadow Scythe wanted to rescue those who came here, she couldn’t take their souls into herself with such raw power. She remembered when she'd tried such with an ancient elemental titan, simply to have it and Grogar tear themselves from her regenerating flesh. The pale mare shuddered at the memory.

“Never again,” she muttered to herself.

“Never what, amica?” Doppia asked, a curious glimmer in her amber eyes. “Don’t tell me you actually feel sorry for that poor sap~.”

“Of course not,” Shadow Scythe sneered. “Mortal flesh disgusts me! To be unburdened by feeble limitations is liberating!”

“You really are quite stubborn, aren’t you?” Zeloph mused with a shake of his head. “Why must you continue to lie to yourself? There’s nothing wrong with a bit of sympathy for the meek.”

“Ha!” The reaper scoffed. “That’s rich coming from the guy who nearly wiped a planet out for pitiful vengeance.”

This earned a leer from the demi-human, all eyes fixated on Shadow Scythe before looking out towards the harpies, finishing their meal and lifting towards the blackened skies, a fresh corpse left from their ravenous mauling.

“Vengeful, I may be. But I would not wish for anyone to fall into this forsaken pit. Not even Beatrix deserves a cruel fate like Pathos…”

The pale unicorn tensed by this revelation before going back to silently brood over this whole arrangement. The only reason they were even here was to talk with the Burning King, a fabled child’s book character to her knowledge. Part of her wanted to believe that this was all a joke, that Doppia was playing more mind games just to get a laugh. But the reaper knew better, considering she knew nothing about the Lost World or the characters that resided in it.

Whatever this legendary abomination was, Shadow Scythe would face it as she did with Grogar or the Demiurge. With ruthlessness and pure will.

“Hmph…. So where is this ‘Burning King’, anyway?” She asked the hooded mare, freehand resting over her hip.

“Patience,” Doppia hissed, her hand wrapping around her left forearm, twisting it tightly. “He is coming…”

“So we’re just supposed to stand here and wait for demons to ambush us?”

“I think not,” Zeloph agreed, stroking his eye-lined plumage with shaking hands. Being in Pathos made the Fallen One more aware of his affliction to the darkness, making his skin crawl. “My presence alone will draw attention to us. We need to get a move on before--”

A bellowing roar drew their attention behind them. From the ledge crawled a gargoyle-like creature, flesh meld with stone, tusks emerged out its bottom lip, forming a snarl. Another howl echoed as a pack of wolf-like beasts prowled from around. Pale unblinking white spheres, unevenly bulging out from its eye socket, reflected its prey while saliva flowed from its unhinged jaw. The familiar screech of the harpies sounds from above, the flock soaring around the trio.

Grunting, Shadow Scythe readied her weapon in a battle stance as Doppia cowardly hid behind Zeloph’s robes, the angelic pegasus flaring his wingspan as light magic glowed from his hands.

“Pft, coward!” The unicorn muttered before tensing up as one creature lunged for her throat. Swiftly, she decapitated its skull from its neck, ducking as its body rolled off the ledge. This signaled the rest of its pack to attack. Zeloph fired a projectile of pure light from his finger as the harpies descended upon them, causing the flock to scatter. The Fallen one continued to fire warning shots at the stalking wolf beasts until the gargoyle rushed towards them.

“Get down!” Shadow Scythe yelled, using Zeloph’s ducking as leverage to launch herself and deliver a guillotine-style cleave over the creature’s head, hot blood jetting out the base of its neck, staining the reaper and nephilim in spatters of red.

They cast one glance at each other in a mutual nod before resuming to deflect each pounce and attack. The unicorn’s horn lit up to fire an array of her most advanced spells, desecrating the front of the growing pack of hungry demons. Likewise, Zeloph ascends to battle the winged harlots, beating his wings with enough force to break their bones. Parts of his robes unravelled into more plumage, each feather glowing brighter until bolts of lightning dispersed to electrocute the harpies, mangled limbs, and burnt feathers plummeting onto the scorched earth.

His look of satisfaction didn’t last long as more screeching was heard from above. Zeloph turned, eyes wide, to find more harpies swarming towards them. From below, Shadow Scythe caught the beast’s jaws with the handle of her sickle, struggling to push it back while blasting the other monsters away. And yet, more seemed to keep coming as two new gargoyles were lumbering close by.

Her glare fixated on Doppia, who was hiding behind a rock to dodge any pouncing hellhounds. “What the fuck are you doing!? Get your ass over here and help me!!”

“I-I can’t,” she complained, favoring her arm while leaning against the boulder. “My magic is useless here. There’s too many!”

“You worthless cunt! I swear, if we make it out of this, I will rip you asunder unti--”

“Worry not, Shadow Scythe,” Zeloph called overhead, his brilliant aura shining brighter as he channelled his magic. “I shall handle this quickly. With my inhibitors gone, I am free to tap into unlimited power!”

As the ravenous flock of harpies neared, the multi-winged angel focused his archaic energy into wielding his onoma. “Now bare witness to the might of Aeth-à͙̲̀a̡̛̪̤̜̕a͔̜̣̪͓̱̖a̵̰͜ų̭u̷̥͍͈̱͜g̵̣̬͠h̨̪̤̩̦̞̩̻͠ͅḫ͔̺͈̞͈̪̙!͇͕̦̞̲̻͈̻͓!̯̥̝̣͔͘”

Yet the moment he tried to conjure his prolific symbols and halos, his wispy aura flickered and dimmed, a searing headache pulsing through his skull. And the harder Zeloph tried, the worse the pain became before it was too unbearable. His aura completely diminished, his eyes widened in dismay. “No.… No! How can this be!? Why can’t I--Gragh!” The harpies collided with the Fallen One, tackling him down into the ground, clawing at his feathers and flesh while he screamed in agony.

“Are you serious!?” Shadow Scythe yelled before the dog-like demon ripped her sickle out from her hand and pinned her to the ground. “Gyaaagh! Get off me, you rotten beast!” She demanded, panting and yelling as it took her horn into its jagged jaws, threatening to bite it in half. The unicorn flailed feebly, sheering pain burrowing through her head as Shadow Scythe felt it drag its claws into her robes, stripping her with each desperate swipe until not even the bandages concealed her lithe figure. Her eyes dilated upon feeling hot liquid dripping against her stomach, a grotesque knotted tool throbbing eagerly against its underbelly.

“N-no! NO! GET AWAY FROM ME! GUURGH! NAAAAAAAA!!” She screamed, trying with all her might to kick the horny hellhound off while its pack circled patiently around her, awaiting their turn to claim the reaper’s body and sate their unending lust.

A startled screech pulled her eyes away from the ugly canine towards Doppia, arms held up by the gargoyles while she struggled in their grasp. They tried to tug away at her own robes, fat lumpy cocks hanging between their stone thighs. Zeloph was not faring well either, the harpies pressing their nude, saggy breasts into his bare chest while tracing their talons all over him, despite his resistance.

Hot flesh scraping against her mound pulled Shadow Scythe back to wrestling free from the demented dog, only for its jaws to fasten tighter around her horn. Tears streamed from her cold eyes, realizing that nothing could save her from becoming the pack bitch to these monsters. That they were destined to slake the endless hordes gathering around them until nothing remained but broken bodies and crushed spirits. Her eyes sealed shut as she prepared for the inevitable.

“R̈́̊̔͆̾̏̋͊́Ȃ̧̔͞A̧̛ͥ̔́̅͜A̓̌̋ͧ́ͩ̑͛͏A̴̐Aͬͩ͌͜͠Aͬ͆͒̈͌A͊ͮ͆ͯͥͨ̔ͨ͗̕͢Ă̔̒̎͂̓͗̒͢͢͏Ą̵̶ͩ͗ͯ̎A̶ͯ̿̒ͧ̃ͫͨͩͩĄ́ͪ̒̿ͩ͘͟Ä̶̢́̓͑̂̽A͐ͨ̑̑͋̓̈͋͘̕A̴ͭͭ̃͡Aͤͯͮ̓́͟Á̏͌̑ͧ͛A̸ͯ͒Ã̌͗ͬͯ͌̎͊ͮ́͜͏Ã͛̽͟A̓͢͟Aͪ̾̑̕ĄͯAͧͧͫ̏̌̇ͦA̷̢̓̔̄̓̕A͑͊̈́̉͌̔̑̀͠Aͤ͊̆̉̓̅̕͡Ųͣͯ͒͂͌͗̊̚͢R̍͒G̎̌͛̌̏̚H̵̛ͨ͘!̈͌ͪͭ̔!̋̒̓̀̈ͩͧ͐̀”

A thunderous sound echoed through the dark realm, causing all demonic creatures to cease their actions. Taking advantage of the sudden distraction, Shadow Scythe shoved the beast off of her, summoning her sickle back to hand. Her glare narrowed, expecting the creature to fight back. But instead, it curled back with its pack, whimpering, bony tail tucked between their legs.

Her gaze wandered to her comrades, the monsters molesting them having stopped as well, all staring beyond her vantage point. The reaper’s eyes locked with Doppia, a sinister giggle parting her stretched lips.

“He’s here~!”

The sound of clopping hooves perked her ears, causing the Reaper to turn around. Black smoke drifted across the barren plain, yet glowing light slowly grew brighter from within. As the vast figure emerged, thick puffs wrapped around its limbs. And upon making out its horrid visage, Shadow Scythe felt fear swell within her heart as her sickle dropped out of her hands.

It was a horse…or an undead approximation of one. Only a few pieces of burnt skin remained over its exposed musculature and black bones. Fin spines grew out from behind its head and legs, a single eye glowing from the socket of its skull-like face, mouth housing blackened teeth. But what disturbed the trembling reaper most of all was the rider attached to the equine nightmare.

Yes. Attached. Permanently fused to its back was a humanoid torso; its rib cage was torn open to expose the fire crackling within its chest. Thin, elongated arms dragged on either side of its steed. Bovine-like horns protruded from its head, a skeletal visage with a mouthful of jagged teeth. The fire burned brightly from its eye sockets, much like the flowing mane that immolates its head. And if this creature’s identity wasn’t apparent enough, a crown engulfed in flames hovered above its head.

The fabled Burning King had graced them with an appearance.

It rose its lower half on hind legs before the horse head let loose a harrowing neigh, landing on its forelegs with three hooked claws. All at once, the hellish wolf beasts spontaneously combusted, painful howls and screams barking up as their bodies slowly crumbled into flecks. Shadow Scythe rose, watching with astonished pale eyes as nothing remained but their ashes, an acrid stench filling the atmosphere as black plumes swirled towards the sky.

One of the gargoyles bellowed, undeterred by the Burning King’s presence as both burly monsters dropped Doppia and charged towards them. A few of the harpies took flight towards their twisted ruler. A snort of steam left the equine head’s nostrils before the destructive beast rushed towards the racing stoned abominations. The Burning King extended its hook-like claws as they scraped against the ground alongside the galloping steed, sparks flying off the blades until they caught fire.

Just before they could collide, the Burning King swung its hand across the frontmost gargoyle's head, its face splitting in half before collapsing to its knees. The monstrous horseman trampled over the gargoyle’s body, brain matter and blood oozing out from the severed skull.

The second gargoyle, frightened by what had happened to its kin, stopped in its tracks to run away. But the skinless steed lifted off its hindlegs to hook its hooves into the stone creature’s hard flesh, teeth sinking into its neck. The horse head wrestled to rip off its prey’s throat before succeeding as chunks of meat tore away. Using its weight, the Burning King slammed down on the screaming monster, crushing its bones before running off, leaving the crying gargoyle in agony, blood gushing from its wound like lava. Shadow Scythe held her throat instinctively, the putrid feeling rising from her belly.

The screeching harpies dove in circles towards the skinless monstrosity, ready to tear it apart with extending talons. But the Burning King stood its ground, lifting its lower body once more as the equine head opened its maw unnaturally wide, plumes of toxic smog vomiting out to cloak the air around it. The winged creatures cried, the vapor stinging their eyes, the flock flying around aimlessly. But the worst was yet to come as the rider opened his maw to ignite the gas-filled atmosphere with fiery breath.

The harpies exploded, licks of flames burning away at their feathers and flesh until they dropped to the tormented soil like flies. Their sisters harked in alarm, scrambling off Zeloph to fly off into the darkened skies. The nephilim, covered in scratches and teeth marks, shakingly rose towards Shadow Scythe. The two stared at each other in distraught before turning towards the approaching Burning King, embers and ashes dancing around it. Doppia stumbled to their side, awkwardly keeping away from the reaper, tucking her head in as the monstrous horseman trotted towards them. The rider eyed the trio, a permanent sneer on its gaunt face. Not a single word was said until the Burning King snapped its attention towards its lowly follower.

Doppia instantly fell to her knees, trying to hold in screams with little luck, unrolling her forearm to reveal the burnt symbol searing her crystalline flesh. Harsh light shimmered underneath, crawling up her arm before swelling into her face, the mare’s eyes wide as a spark of pyre glowed inside her pupil. Heaving, she stood crookedly before glaring at her companions. And Shadow Scythe trembled under the voice that came from Doppia’s mouth,

“K̡͊̏̆̿ͩn̶̷̾͗͜eͤ̿́͌̃̚͏e̿̆͞l̨̾͌ͬͫ̀̿͜…ͣ̀̀”

A gurgling baritone, layered over silent screams, commanded the both of them to lower onto their knees, bowing their head before the Burning King. Beside them, the immolated bodies of the hellhounds rose anew, burnt skin cloaking a fiery exterior, their faces morphed back into place before the pack knelt similarly.

Shadow hesitantly looked over the torched beasts, breathing heavily while fighting her body to ignore the urge to flee. She knew nothing good would come of it, that even if her flesh could regenerate from any injury, she had had no hope of escaping this…thing. The fear of being trapped in perpetual pain and suffering overwhelmed Shadow Scythe, and the Burning King could see it in her eyes while studying her.

She hated how it stared at her, its maw almost forming a grin.

Finally, the skinless horseman turned its steed to march off, its new pack of hounds following after with Doppia’s possessed body tailing. Shadow Scythe and Zeloph struggled back up, the reaper only able to find solace that her winged companion was equally unnerved. At once, the Burning King stopped, his legion of ignited minions following his actions as they all turned to them, and in unison, beckoned,

“F̏̉̋ͯ̎̽ô̵͐̆̏̌ͪ̂͗́l̸̃̾̓̽ͮ͠͞l̛͊̔̈ͤͬ͊̽͜ơ̄͛ͧ̂ͣͤ̚̚͟w̓̌̾̋͆͏.̵͗ͤͭ̏̓̄͑̀͠”

As if compelled by some unknown force, their bodies lurched forward to shorten the distance between themselves and the Burning King. Once Shadow and Zeloph walked behind Doppia, the group continued their path over the endless landscape of scorched earth. And more immolating victims rose into molten shapes, backing their king in growing bodies.

A short journey later, the pale unicorn and pegasus arrived before the husk of an ancient castle, stone singed with soot, debris scattered all over the place. Dark wood sparked with embers as the Burning King made way, the scorched creatures splitting away towards the lower levels. Shadow Scythe surveyed what looked to be the remains of the throne room, hollowed pillars struggling to stand. A large cauldron of fire highlighted the chamber, six goblets sitting around the rims. And looming over the tarnished bowl was a giant throne, made from bones and melted gold. The Burning King climbed the steps before seating its equine body down. A draft whirled through the hollowed kingdom, black scorch marks decorating the rugged decor, evident of their host’s malicious might.

“Never have I encountered such a horrible-looking monster,” Shadow Scythe muttered, trying to heal the cuts and bruises she received fending off the hellhounds. But to her utter dismay, no rejuvenation spell worked, suspecting this realm prevented the use of such magic. Zeloph confirmed this when he failed to seal up his wounds while approaching her, eyes locked with the sinister ruler.

“That’s because you’ve never encountered a nuckelavee before,” he spoke quietly, attempting to conjure the holy aura of his archaic magic to no avail.

“A-a what?”

“A nuckelavee,” Doppia repeated, temporarily free from her master’s possession, standing by his side. “The worst of all demons. Fiends that feed on mortal agony, blood, and loathing. Legends say that they are inescapable, land or sea. Only the Sea Mither could drown them with saltwater. How fitting that the genocidal ruler of Moira would become such a diavolo orribile~.”

The Burning King remained silent, his clawed fingers scratching into the throne arms, making a slight scraping sound that irritated Shadow Scythe’s ears. “Gnnh! T-that thing... was human?!”

“Hard to imagine, I can agree,” the crystal mare nodded. “But he was once a man. A cruel, terrible man. No one knew why he sought a life of atrocities, committed heinous acts, and slaughtered anyone that stood in his way. The moment he took the crown for himself, the entire kingdom fell into ruin. Some called him a madman, yet the despair he sowed was far more…calculated. He knew what he was doing, might have even enjoyed the countless lives he took. In the end, no one was safe when he set his kingdom ablaze. And even after death, trapped in this hellish landscape, he became the most violent force imaginable. The Avatar of Destruction. The Demon of the Wastes. Thee Burning King! And he is willing to aid you in your journey for the Child of Lightendark.”

“For what price?” Zeloph asked with a furrowed gaze, stepping forward. “What does the Burning King gain from helping us locate Abadonna? What does he w̴͔̻̼̩̕͞a̘̻̮͔̥͙͘͠n̷͏̣̰̞͚̤t̡͕͔̻̱̖̲̥̕?͡͏̷͙̻̥͈̠͈”

Doppia’s smile deepened as she gradually walked down the steps. The cauldron’s pyre erupted behind them, reaching the ceiling as images formed within the flickering flames. Shadow Scythe and Zelophed turned around, seeing a scene depicting Abby, curled up in a room, watched over by an owl-shaped figure. “She is with the Curator of Time, Enock,” the mare revealed. “The celestial’s library cannot be found, as it flows through the history of every existing timeline. However, that doesn’t mean it is out of reach. A ritual can be performed to take us there.”

“The Curator of Time?” Shadow Scythe asked, tilting her head to the fallen one.

“An immensely powerful being,” Zeloph explained. “Said to have knowledge of even before atoms materialized after the grand beginning! If we can infiltrate that library, we gain access to untold history, wisdom beyond years that have yet to come.”

This definitely perked the reaper’s interest, the idea of pure omniscience and knowing the outcome of all things enticing. But suspicion crept up to her as she glared back to Doppia. “And what’s in this library that interests the Burning King?”

“A way out,” the mare stated simply. “The Burning King tires of Pathos, having conquered everything from the scorched plains to the mindless predators. He seeks to escape this prison, so that all life may burn until there is nothing left. Enock’s library holds the key to releasing the Burning King back to the mortal plane, where he can continue his onslaught and bring fulfill the Omega Prophecy; otherwise known as-”

“The End of Days…” Zeloph finished for her, his eyes wide and full of fear. Shadow Scythe didn’t press him to elaborate, the title alone told her enough about the cataclysmic event.

“That’s right, mio amico~!” Doppia said excitedly, pulling his hands into hers. “Join us! Help us bring the cosmos to its knees. Escape the fate that tethers you to ruination, Zeloph~.”

“You expect me to take part in this prolific doomsday?” The nephilim sneered, trying to pull away. “This…would not be something my daughter wants…”

The Burning King glared down at the resistance, a low growl parting his jagged maw.

“Would it truly be so bad?” Doppia asked, pressing herself further against the demi, tracing her fingertip over his bare chest, highlighting his cuts. Her eyes fluttered dangerously low, her twisted smile widening. “Think about your future, Zeloph. Any survivors left would need someone to shepherd them. You could become their ‘savor’ once more! Siring numerous offsprings to bring forth a new generation of superior mortals. Why…. I wouldn’t mind being the first to receive such a ‘holy’ blessing~!”

Shadow Scythe felt the urge to hurl return, disgusted by this display of lecherousness from the already despicable crystal mare. Her eyes looked with Zeloph, silently mouthing him ‘no.’ The nephilim was conflicted, unable to deny how he missed being looked upon and loved by the mortals he once cherished. Yet the way Doppia twisted it greatly disturbed him. But with the looming threat before them and his Onoma seemingly lost to him, Zeloph doubted there was any way he and Shadow Scythe could leave unscathed...

“I…will do whatever I must if it means Abadonna is safe in my arms again,” he relented, much to Doppia’s delight. Shadow Scythe's hands tightened on her sickle, no longer allowing dread to keep her silent.

“Have you lost your mind!?” She snapped at the pair, trying to stand fast in her belief, despite how quickly her heart raced. “Do you not realize that you’ll assist in the complete annihilation of all existence!? I thought you were smarter than this, Zeloph. That even a vengeful soul like you would not resort to galactic genocide!”

“Pft! As if you’re one to talk,” Doppia scoffed, defensively stepping between the reaper and the fallen angel. “If I remember correctly, you’ve been an advocate to death to all things for a long time. How mortals should be liberated from their fleshy prisons, no~?”

“Don’t twist my tongue, you lowly bitch,” Shadow Scythe threatened, raising her blade up towards the hooded mare’s neck. “I advocate death, yes. But I seek to end life naturally. What you offer is anything but natural. Hatred beyond reason! And I refuse to take part in this!”

“Shadow Scythe, wait!”

The reaper pointed her blade towards the nephilim. “I’m sorry, Zeloph. But the price is too great to rescue your daughter. You’re a fool if you think these monsters wil--guuggagh!”

Shadow Scythe froze in place, the atmosphere around her becoming smoldering, more brutal to breathe. Her weapon fell from her hand as it reached for her throat, coughing excessively. Before the reaper’s eyes, the room had combusted, fire immolating her flesh, cooking the skin off her charred bones. But she didn’t disintegrate into dust, left to be in perpetual agony and do little more than twist and scream.

From the outside, she was unharmed, kneeling and wailing over seemingly nothing. Zeloph glared towards Doppia, who manipulated plumes of emerald smoke to swirl around the frightened unicorn. As the Vice Lord of Deception, it made sense she possessed powerful illusionary magic.

“Stop it; that’s enough!” He demanded, trying to tug Doppia out of her trance. “Doppia! Leave her be!”

“Ḋ̷͐̒ͤͬ͟͠o͂͆̄͜ ̒͑͂̀n̄̃̄̑̀̿͂̇̾o̷͒̄͂͗̓͒t̢͑ͫͭ̂͛ ̵ͬ̇̓̒̈́͋͊͝iͩ͛ͦ͌͢n̿̾̆ͮͬ͟të̶̵́r̸̴͌͂͆f͌̉͏̧ę̵̋ͫ̀͌͋r̄̈́͋́ͣͥę̿̂͊ͧ̒ͮ̓̄,̴ͩ̑ ̏́̀f̢̡̀ͥ̋ͦ̒̍̊̓a͐͐̚͟͠ls̷̈̋̄͆ͧ͟e̢ͭ̿ͥͩ̏̿̓̅̕ ̴͌̋ͮ̅̓̀î̵̵ͦ͗ͮͥ̒ḑ̸ͥ̄̌͜ö̶̷̓ͮ̉͐̾̐l̨ͪ̄ͪ́̈̏̓͡,ͧ̔̌̚" a foreboding voice responded, her head turning to show off the fiery embers glowing from her eyes, harsh light highlighting her skull from within. The demi-human instantly backed away, head snapping towards the Burning King, who slowly made his way from the throne. While his skeletal visage remained silent, his voice continued to speak through his mouthpiece.

“Ą̢͊͑͒͋̔͗̉̄̀ ͂̓̓̎̕͝l̴̍̐̄͐ͮ̏̑ͫͩe̡͑̒̅̍̅̇ͪͨͫ̕͠ş͌͗̄sͩ͆ͣ͠ǭ̿̚n̢̒̄͛̃ͯ͑͝ m̃̐̂ͥ̑ͬ͢͡u̧͒̆͊̓͋͆͟s̛̓̉͋͂̉̉̇ţ̧ͫ͆͒͋̆̐̚͜ ̵͐͒b̡̆ͪ̌̉̅̉̕e̷̵͒͂̊ͫ̽́̑̌̂ ̊̈́ͦͭ̄ͣ͢͝t͆͂̉̽ͭ̚͏̛̀ǎ̵̡ͣ́̄ͧͤͫ̂ͦȕͤ́gḩ̾ͫͩ̑̒̒ͯ̊ť̈̉͠ ̇̅ͤ̀̂̕͠t̶͂ͩ̏̑̚͡ỡ̎ͫ͘ ̐̌̍ͪt̶̡́̾h̀̔͐̇ͤ͏̕͟ó̔ͤ̍͗͡s̨̋̅ẻͬ́͝ ̇̂͆̑̐̈́͐͌w͑̍̄ͮͮ̄҉͠hͬ̐̐ͦͨ͒̓͑͜͢ǒ͗̏̍̇̚ ̷̅͗̓͐ͩ͌d̄̔ͣ͌̏̒͑́͡ā̊̽̌ͦͯ̚r̨̍͑̂ͭ͆ͣ͒ͧȇ̿̓̿̽ ̶̐̒̽̎ͩ̊̐́̀̚͜d̈̃̎̾͑͂̃ͬĕ̉ͦ͒̉ͤ̍͏̛͝f̵̨̐̄ͯͭỹ̢̡ͮ͛͘ ̵̛̿m͒́͡y̢͆͋̾ͣ̑ͭ̎̔͟͝ ̐͒̓̈́́̚͢͡w̶̿͛ͮͤ̑̃̈́̑̀͢i̿ͬ͗l̒͒lͮ̄͡”

The nuckelavee walked towards the cowering mare upon reaching ground level, grabbing her by the throat, pulling her out of the deathly vision. Shadow Scythe could not tear away from his immolating gaze.

“T̓ͯͨ̈͐̅ͪh̢ͪͬ̃͗̆͒̐͊͑͞͞a̅̀̽̐̈̔̌͂͏t̶͒̃͐ͭ̑͊…̴̡ͪ͊̒̈́͗̍ ͊̊̇̈́̏w̵͒̉̈̒̄͟a̢͌̑s͑͑͢ ̴̌͋ͤͦ͐̍̽jͯ̋ͤ̕u̴ͧ͋̈́̎̈̓̿ş̷ͭ̊̉̊̏͑̾͌t̴̷͐͊̿ͯͣ͑͌̎̕ ̢̨͂̿ͭ̎̔ͭ͟a̍̔ͣ ̷̶̢̍ͦ̏t̏ͧ̔̊̋aͫ̂͑̋ͪ̇ͨ̅͏s̶̛͑ͭͦͤ͞t̛̛ͨ̌͛̈̎̅͑̃͏ȇͩͤͤ̓̒̐̚͢ ̧͑̽ͭ̑̎̅͋͛́ỏ͘f̐̒͞ ̷͒̔ͩ̽̎ͭ̐̿m̡̐͂y͊ͫ͛ͧ͢͞ ̡̄ͮͨ̎̊͋̅̐̂w̡̓͊̂̽ͪr̴̈͐ͦ̾ͧả̷ͪ̓̎ͤ̔̃ͭ͘t̽ͯ͛͂͘h̐͘͞.̡̽̎͛ͬ ̡ͭ̊̅ͯ̾W̷̸ͣ̓ͩ̓ͮͫͯ̅͢i͒̇ͩ͒͐̃l̨̛͑̐ͤ͂͜ļ̍ͬͫͭͧ ̊̎͛ͬ̾̐ͮ͆͊́y̡ͮ̈̅̾ͥ̂̌͊ͬo̧ͯ̊̍̓̀ù͛̋ͧͫ̄ͮ͂ ̐̐s̵͛̐̓̔̍̽ͭ̏̀ų̴̈̈́ͯ͆͡b̃̓ͤmͥ̈́ͥ͘i͂̏̌ͬͭ̐ͪ̉̾͘tͦ́…̢̀ͥ͝ ̧ͫ̓ͤ͛ͧ̑̄͞ǫ͛ͥ͊ͦͩ̊͛̐ŕ̢ͯ͡ ̽́̈́̓ͧ͘͠s̢̛ͦ͂͛̀u̴̴ͩ͂̾̎͆͂̿̍͗͟fͬ̄ͦ͑̐̒ͤ̈́́ͯ͐́̀͟f̷̵̷́̊͊̾̋ȩ̵̵̷̈́͆͌ͩ̏ͬ̓ͣ̓͋̀r̛͛̈ͥ̆ͫ̔͟͡?̶̧̊̅͑̓ͫ̊̎͆̍̒̂͊̊̏ͣ́͟͝”

Shadow Scythe, though eyes watering, continued to sneer defiantly. Yet she couldn’t deny the pain swelling in her throat, the stinging of his searing flesh coiled around hers. “I…. I-I will serve,” she choked, nodding her head feverishly until he finally dropped Shadow Scythe to her feet. Zeloph rushed to her side, and for once, she did not refuse his touch as she wheezed.

“Y̛̿͐̍ͤͭo͊͆́u̽ ̨ͯ́̀͒b̏̓͌̓ó̐͝t̎͆̚͟h̿̇̅ ̍̎̑͡w̸ͮ̒̉ͨ͛̍̊i̷͛͐lͣͣ͐ļ̿̚ s̶eͮ̄̊̂͊r̀vͨͨ͒̆̽ͤͨe͋ ̀̽ͬ̃ͩ̅ͦm̾ͤ̀̾͒ͫ̚eͧ ̉̓ͣ̚̚͝w͋͌ͩ͏ȩ̑ͨ̇̽͗̓l̨̃ͩl͝,͌ͮ̓͗͌̉͊” the Burning King stated through Doppia’s lips.“Ä́͒ͣ͗̈́̀̀n̓ͥ͋͟ď̆̑͒ͬ͗̋̚ ̆̐̿ͪͧ̈ͤ̔͘͏t̸̢͆ͨ̓͛̕ō̎͛͠ ̶̐͒̎͆̐̽́͝͡a̸̡̾̄̇͋ŝ̷̆ͪs̅̉͛̃̑̆͗ü͆̆̏̔ŗ̃ͮ̎͐̊̐̔eͨ͐̀ ̏͡ỷ̑͜o̶̶͋͌̓̎ͨͩ͘u̍͋ͦ̃ͪ̾͑̚͝ ̡̌̌͌͂͂͂ͫ̐͜͞tͪ̏ͤ̂̅̏͗͢͝h̸̆̅ͤ̂̀͌̒̓͏a̒͐̊̋̔́̍ͧ̚t̸̽͑̈́̅͐̂ ̛ͦͤ̈́ͮ͊͒ͩ͑f̶̋̋̀ͫ̏ͦ͂̒̍͟rͨ͛ͬ̍͌̔e̢ͫ͊͊͘͜ĕ͗҉̛ḋ̎̿͋̽oͮͧ̐ͧ͂̽ͣ͟͝m̶͊̐̂ͭ̔͞ ͤ̊̓͒̍͘͝i̒̿̈́̈͗͑͋̀̕s̛̐͒̒͑͑̕͜ ̧̓͂ͪͫ̂̈́ȃ̸̸͗ͬ̍̈ͤ̊̃ ̶ͤ̎͘h̔ͪ̑ͩ̂̆̇͏o̢̒̌́̿ͯͨ̓͑̀l̏ͪ͒ͦ̂l̸̐̄ͯ͗ô̷̐̑͡͡w̐ͧ͌͌ ̧̄͆̍̕͟ẃͨ̌̂̔̔́͡i̐̐͞sͨ͊̀̔ͫh̷ͪ̓̇̃̉̿́͞.ͧ͂̆ͧ́̕͡.͋̔̂ͣ́͌ͫͭͫ̕͞.̢͐̈ͤͭ̎͢” The skinless demon raised his hand outwards to the pair, a sudden pain burning from their arms as they shared a sharp hiss. Scarred upon their forearms were matching symbols.

“... Äͣ̑ͦ̕ ̨͗̉ͮ́̕͠r̶ͤͣ̐̃͆̾̉̔̕͢e̸͐̆̏͒̇m̶̸̴̌i̿̑͒̌̚̕ņ̧ͬ͌̉͆̽d̍̉͐ͨ̓͛ͯ͒̀͞e̔̓̑͘r̔͆̔ͥ̿͛̀͢ ̶̔̄ͣ̊͆̓̊́͡o̸ͪ̂͑̎̚͟f̴́̚ ͩ͑ͬ̓͐ͪ҉̵̨w̌͊̾̂ͩ͑ͬh̵̛ͫ̉̄͐̂͛̊͠a̧̒̓̾̒ͯtͧ̑̾̆͜͏ ̧ͣͪ̈ͩ̽̀̽́͘â̸ͭ̿ͦ́̔̒͜w̷ͫ̀ͪ̄̿̋̔̐ȃ̵͞i̷̓ͦͮͦͫt̵̨̅͊͋̅́s̢ͭͫ̿͢.ͦ̌́.̧̌ͯ.̴̢͑͆̿̾ͪͧ̋̊ ̴ͣͪͨ̀̍̓ͭ͜s̐͋ͮͨ͏h̶ͣ̑̎ͤͤ̔̓̃̑͜oͬͩͥ̋̉ͯu̶͑̎ͧͯ́͘͞l̵̊̈d͋̐͐̿ͪ͢ ̷̶ͫͤ͛̿̽̓͢y̷̢̏̿ͣ̉ͧ͆o͆ͣ͡u̸̧ͪ͗͏ ͬ̀͊̓̽̾̐̇pͮ̀̄ͮ̂͘r̸̡͛̿̄̂̄͝o̧ͧͣ͒͊ͩ̿͡͠ṽ̓̎ͪͣͣ͌͘͡eͭͯͭ͡͠ ̵̷͐̌͆͌ͭ̄͟t̔͛ͪͯ͌̐̌̊͟r̶̆̐͌̿͑ͭ̚e̛̒ͦ̏͜a̶ͨ͐̆͂̏c̨̾ͬͭhͪ̏̓̋ͣ̌͌͛̕eͫ̈͑ͫ̀͟r̸ͤ͋̓́ͨo̧͛̄̈́̆̀͋͜ȗͩ͟͠͡ş̛ͮ̀͋ ͯ̐̍ͦ͒ͬ͝ȧ̆͌͘g̢̀̎̅͋͒͢͞aͦ̑͠i̽̍ͨͤ́͝n̢̢̏͛̏ͫͣ͞s̋̋͏̷̢t̎ͭ̓̈̈́͟͏ ͥ̈́̋ͬ̈ͯͦm̾̐ͪ̋ͨ́̀eͥͪ̍̽̀ͮͦ͑̕.̇̕.̶̧̇ͣͩͭ͐̚.͌̈́̕͟.”

The fallen one and death goddess leered as the Burning King turned to his emissary, who opened up a portal in the large cauldron, snuffing out the blazing pyre. As the hellish entity turned to leave, he released Doppia from his infernal hold, the enchantress swaying on her feet until she regained her senses.

“This shall lead you to the Lost World,” Doppia explained, her master’s instructions ringing through her mind. “The gateway to the Time Curator requires three ingredients. Essence from the darkest of sorcerers, blood from the purest of alicorns, and a piece from the Crystal Empire’s heart. From there, you will free the Burning King…and the Omega Prophecy shall be fulfilled.”

Zeloph mentally made a note of these requirements, staring into the vortex spiraling below him and Shadow Scythe. “And where are we to find these?”

“They’re not too hard to find,” she insisted with a giggle. “I’m sure you two are quite familiar with the first~.”

“Beatrix,” the pair stated in unison, figuring the witch was connected somehow through her bond with the Demiurge. While Zeloph favored his scarred forearm, making preparations to descend, Shadow Scythe continued to seethe at the hooded mare, tempted to lop her head off for her trickery and cowardice. “You aren't joining us?” the pale unicorn asked.

“It is best I remain on the sidelines, for now, amica. But I’ll continue to watch and guide you when needed. Oh! I do have a favor for you. When you encounter Beatrix and her friends, could you bring me a lock of hair? I’m not picky whose mane it is~.”

“Hair? What for?” Shadow Scythe gave a skeptical look, but the crystal enchantress remained secretive through her sly grin.

“Just something that could prove important to our mission. You better hurry, though. I suspect our adversaries are already on the move,” Doppia urged.

The scythe-wielding unicorn turned to her angelic comrade, a snort of her snout before both jumped into the swirling portal.

And though no words passed between Shadow Scythe and Zeloph, both silently prayed that somehow, they would never return to the realm of suffering, ruled over by the horrible Burning King.