Chapter Seventy-Four
I wonder what would happen if Hades gets his way and creates the God-Killer.
If all the gods vanish…What will happen to the kingdoms?
Tabitha Wysteria
Mal did not know how long she had drifted beneath the water.
At first, panic had seized her, sharp and suffocating, clawing at her chest as though she might drown not from the water, but from fear itself. Yet slowly, almost imperceptibly, that terror softened… then faded entirely.
In its place came warmth.
A strange, enveloping warmth that wrapped around her like a cocoon, lulling her into stillness. The weight of the depths no longer felt like a prison, but a sanctuary.
And with time, she stopped fighting.
She let herself sink into it.
Into the silence. Into the comfort.
Into the absence of everything.
The world above began to blur, then to vanish altogether. Wars dissolved into nothing. Gods became distant echoes. The sharp ache of betrayal—the knowledge that every soul she had ever trusted had lied to her—dulled, then slipped away entirely.
Mal closed her eyes.
And drifted.
She forgot the world that had stolen Haven from her, that had torn Kage from her side, that had taken her mother and left only ghosts in her wake.
She forgot the world that had forced her to leave her own child behind, hidden away with Vera and Allegra, out of reach of divine cruelty.
She forgot it all.
And so Mal drifted, weightless and unburdened, letting the darkness cradle her as though she had never belonged anywhere else.
Mal found herself dreaming.
A soft, beguiling dream of a world where nothing had gone wrong. Where it was only her, Ash, and their daughter. No gods. No curses. No bloodshed. Just quiet days and gentle laughter, a life untouched by ruin.
She sank into it.
Time passed. Years, it seemed, slipping through her fingers like silk. And with every passing moment, the memory of the real world faded further, until she no longer questioned the illusion.
Until she no longer remembered it was one.
And then, something seized her.
An invisible force, merciless and unyielding, tore her from that fragile paradise.
Mal broke through the surface with a violent gasp, air crashing into her lungs as though she had been reborn. Water streamed from her as she blinked against the light, disoriented, breathless.
She expected darkness.
Lucifer’s ring.
Instead she found the shore.
Her shore.
The jagged coastline she knew too well, where her uncle lived, where she herself had hidden for months before giving birth… before leaving it all behind.
The sea roared behind her, wild and restless, but Mal barely heard it. Her gaze had already fixed upon the figure waiting at the water’s edge.
It stood there, still as death.
Watching her.
A perfect mirror.
Her face. Her form.
But wrong.
Those black eyes locked onto hers the moment she dragged herself from the churning waves, her boots sinking into wet sand as she approached. She stopped a few feet away, breath slowing, pulse unsteady.
She could not remember the last time she had stood this close.
It felt… unnatural.
To look at herself like this.
At the version of her that was darker, crueler, twisted into something sharp and merciless.
And yet she knew with a quiet, dreadful certainty that it was not separate from her at all.
Only another piece of herself, given shape.
‘I’ve made a deal with Lucifer. So when I go back…’ Mal’s voice faltered as she caught the creature’s expression, how its lips curled, slow and delighted, as though savouring every word. ‘I will be Queen of the Underworld, until…’
‘Until?’ the creature prompted, almost eagerly.
Mal swallowed. ‘Until my daughter hears the bells of Hell calling her. And then… she will banish me into Hell.’
A pause lingered between them, heavy as a held breath.
‘It doesn’t have to end like that.’
‘It does,’ Mal said, her voice tightening. ‘I will not hurt my child. I will not harm the ones I love.’
‘You’re weak,’ the creature spat, its voice sharp as broken glass. ‘And this world will fall because of it.’
Mal closed her eyes for a fleeting moment. Because the creature was right. The world needed the God-Killer. Needed something ruthless enough to tear gods from their thrones and end the ruin they had wrought.
But Mal…
Mal could not become that thing. Not at the cost of those she loved.
‘You’re right,’ she whispered at last, the words heavy with quiet defeat. ‘But I can’t do it.’
The creature’s smile deepened, widening into something almost triumphant.
‘Then let me.’
It extended its tattooed hand towards her, claws glinting faintly.
‘You won’t feel anything,’ it said, softer now, coaxing. ‘It will be like sleep. I will take over… and I will do what must be done. I will save this world, Mal Blackburn.’
Mal stared at the offered hand.
And for a moment, just a moment, she thought of the dream. Of warmth. Of peace. Of a life where Ash still stood beside her, where their daughter laughed, untouched by fate or gods or blood.
She could return to it. Let it swallow her whole. Forget the world. Forget the pain. Forget the endless weight of being the one who had to endure.
She was so tired.
Tired of losing everyone she loved. Tired of holding herself together for others when she was already breaking.
All she wanted was to disappear.
Tears slipped silently down her cheeks as her gaze lifted—drawn, unwillingly, to the keep perched upon the cliffs.
To the place where her mother had died.
‘You could stay here,’ the creature said.
And then, she heard it.
A laugh.
Faint, distant… but achingly familiar.
Mal turned, her breath catching, her purple eyes widening as the figure emerged along the shoreline, walking towards her through the hush of the sea breeze.
Ash.
And in his arms, their daughter.
Something inside her broke open.
Mal ran.
She ran across the sand, heedless of anything else, until she reached them, and the moment Ash gathered her into his arms, she collapsed against him, sobbing as though the world itself had been lifted from her shoulders.
His lips brushed her tears away gently. His golden eyes bright with something she had not seen in so long.
Hope.
‘Let’s go home, Mal,’ he whispered against her mouth.
Mal hesitated, just for a heartbeat.
Her eyes flicked over her shoulder, searching for the creature.
But it was gone.
Gone, as though it had never existed. No longer her burden. No longer her choice. And so she turned back.
Nodded softly against Ash’s chest.
Smiled.
Their daughter reached for her then, tiny hands grasping, curious and warm.
‘Well, hello,’ Mal said, her voice softening as Medea’s small fingers traced over her cheeks, as though committing her to memory.
And Mal…
Mal let herself be led.
Back towards the keep. Back towards the life she had dreamt of.
And, step by step, she forgot the world.