TU16. Three

By the time Helios completed its third rotation around Neptunian, a cycle roughly equivalent to six Earth days, Aurora stood atop a flood of carnage.

The desolate battlefield was paved with a bloodied mess of broken bodies, shattered armour, and discarded weaponry. The seemingly perpetual war was finally drawing to a close. Only one gigantic demon remained, strolling lazily through the devastation. Its massive boots crushed the corpses underfoot, showing little respect for its fallen allies.

"The death of your allies doesn't seem to faze you," Aurora rasped. Her thick voice was laced with utter boredom. A hint of exhaustion was evident.

"It is the greatest honour to die," the demon replied, its voice a rich, deep rumble. Two massive horns adorned its temples like a wicked crown, curving upward and thrusting forward.

Its hulking frame cast a long shadow that completely eclipsed the Empress's face. The giant was staggering in scale, almost the size of a ten-metre-tall Armatus.

"Then I shall grant you a painless death," Aurora said, her tone deadpan.

She spun her scythe, bringing the deadly blade to her side in a fluid, practised motion. With a sudden burst of speed, her legs coiled and launched her straight at the giant.

The demon roared, its eyes gleaming with battle ecstasy. It hurled a massive metallic club in retaliation.

Aurora shifted mid-air. The momentum of her spinning scythe manoeuvred her effortlessly out of the weapon's destructive path.

"Nice try!" the giant grunted, shifting its stance to follow her trajectory. He was far more agile than she had anticipated.

She spiralled and dove towards the ground, landing with her legs coiled to absorb the impact. Her palm shot forward. "Magnetos!"

The invisible magnetic force collided with the club like a concussive bomb, violently flinging the weapon from the demon's grasp. The giant's pupils shrank to pinpricks. "Oh, shit!"

Aurora surged forward for the killing strike. Desperate, the demon pulled his massive fist back for a cheap counterattack.

With swift execution, Aurora's scythe sliced clean through his heavy armguards. His arms were reduced to sheer slabs of meat, thick blood spraying wildly into the air.

"Ahhh!" the demon wailed in agony.

Aurora flew higher, her deadly scythe held aloft, catching the light. A brilliant flash signalled the final demon's demise. His severed head tumbled down, joining the piles of unrecognised matter beneath her boots.

They were sent here to die, and dead they were.

Majestic and elegant, Aurora landed nimbly on the ruined earth. Her silver hair and intricate armour were clotted with the blood of her enemies. Behind her, the headless giant convulsed erratically before slumping to the ground with a thundering thud.

That was the end of her long, gruesome endeavour.

Thanatos materialised at her side, his thumb casually brushing his lips as his gaze drifted downwards at their handiwork. "Tastes awful, as always," the Reaper grunted.

The Empress dismissed her weapon in a flurry of starlight, summoning her arc gourd in its place. But when she tipped it back, chugging greedily, only a mere drop of sweet nectar rolled onto her tongue.

"Damn…" She had consumed it all. The artefact's automated regeneration was no longer enough to sustain her immense magical output.

An unsettling feeling had gnawed at her ever since she arrived in this desolate place. Something, or someone, was watching her from afar. She couldn't pinpoint the exact location, but the slight disturbance in the atmospheric ether was enough to warrant caution.

A surveillance of sorts, she surmised.

Feigning nonchalance, Aurora dismissed the gourd and beckoned the bickering Thanatos to follow. "Let's move."

"Where to?" Thanatos asked, floating lazily beside her.

"Good question." She paused, rubbing her chin contemplatively. She swept her gaze over the distant terrain, taking in the sharp, jagged granite mountain ranges to the east. That was all there was to see. The fact that this world was an entirely different dimension made navigation incredibly difficult.

"Well?" Thanatos urged.

Aurora didn't respond immediately. She closed her eyes in deep thought. I can't possibly summon Ventiff in my current state, either.

"Would this be the first time," Thanatos began, a small flicker of triumph warming his dark heart, "that you, the most wise and the most powerful Astral Empress, have absolutely no idea what to do or where to go?" 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

"Yes, I don't have a solid plan," she conceded smoothly, refusing to give him the satisfaction. "But it's better to go somewhere than nowhere." Her gaze drifted downwards, lingering on the endless piles of demonic bodies.

"Wait..." She gasped softly, a sudden realisation dawning. "How did these battalions coordinate their attack on us?" She stepped forward, beginning to wade through the sea of corpses.

"Hmm... telepathy, perhaps?" the Grim Reaper replied, sounding thoroughly amused.

"Likely not," she argued, shaking her head. "They still barked out vocal commands during the thick of battle. It's highly unlikely that mere ground warriors would possess telepathic abilities."

She rummaged through their thick armour plates and scattered belongings. At first, she only found a strange trinket fashioned from bone and fangs, likely a hunting trophy of some kind. Useless. Then, beneath a breastplate, she uncovered a large leather pouch filled with dry rations. Thick, hardened discs were stacked inside like a column of coins.

"This must be what they were eating," Aurora murmured, inspecting the food. "They planned to fight this war for weeks."

Thanatos floated closer, eyeing the discs before taking one for himself. He bit down, wincing at the terrible, rock-hard sensation against his teeth. "Are you sure they are actually eating these?"

"Well," Aurora said, finding herself offering a rare, light smile. "Even Death can be a little too curious, I see."

"At least it smells like jerky. An awful one, mind you." Thanatos tossed the hard disc away with a grumpy huff.

"Now, look at this," she exclaimed softly, spreading out a folded piece of tanned leather she had just salvaged. It was a rough map, marked with crude landmarks, a meandering river, and strange letters she couldn't recognise.

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"You seem elated, my Empress," he quipped.

Aurora ignored him, rotating the map around in her hands as she figured out the orientation. Easily enough, she managed to find her bearings by aligning the parchment with the towering peak of the eastern granite mountains.

"So north is that way, but I’m not sure, because I noticed that the Helios does not always begin at the same spot every day," Aurora analysed, pointing out towards the horizon. "There are three camps marked in this immediate region. I'm not entirely sure if we've destroyed them all. There is too little information here."

While she stood pondering her next move, her keen gaze caught a strange marking peeking out from the inner lining of a nearby demon's armour plate.

"What is this?" Aurora knelt, gripping the metal, and ripped the plate free to inspect it closely.

Intrigued, she moved onto the next body, quickly uncovering a matching sigil. These markings were hammered deep into the steel, showcasing a much more sophisticated lettering system than the crude map. "Apparently, this is a different language—or at least a different letter system. What's going on here?"

"Let me see!" Thanatos leaned over her shoulder, his ethereal eyes flashing with genuine surprise. "I know these letters. This is the prehistoric script... Protonic!"

"Protonic?" She had never heard of it. "Then what does it say?" she asked, her curiosity piqued. There had to be a reason it was deliberately hidden beneath the armour plates, close to the warriors' chests.

Thanatos scratched his spectral head. "I... umm..." He leaned in closer, squinting hard at the metallic surface. "I can't read it."

"What?" Aurora scowled, looking up at him. "Are you illiterate?"

"I mean—" Thanatos scoffed, deeply offended. "Of course I can read. But this specific phrasing... It's just gibberish!"

"The craftsmanship is far too attentive for it to just be nonsense. Perhaps it is a cipher or a puzzle of some kind," Aurora mused aloud. Her downcast gaze shifted back up to Thanatos. "Can you teach me this Protonic?"

"Ah... that I can do. But are you sure learning an ancient language of the gods right in the middle of a warzone is a great idea?"

"Not right away," Aurora corrected sharply. "Let's head south, past that ridge first. I need to clean myself up."

"And then?"

"Then you will teach me the language. I'm a quick learner," she said, flashing him another rare, confident smile.

"Very well. It couldn't hurt, I suppose," He shrugged in defeat.

With their plan solidified, Aurora summoned her divine steed. The majestic creature materialised with a whinny of light. "Can you keep up?" she teased.

"Please," Thanatos groaned in mock annoyance.

"Hya!" the Empress urged the horse. Her steed accelerated in a blur of motion, carrying her swiftly through the desolate, blood-soaked battlefield.

***

A loud, frustrated scream echoed through the vaulted halls of the crystal palace. Hera hurled her golden wine goblet against the hard marble floor with a resounding clang.

Her intense, furious eyes remained locked on the scrying plumes suspended in the air. The sight of Aurora systematically decimating all of the surrounding war camps irritated the Queen of Heaven to her very core. She clenched her fists so tightly that her perfectly manicured nails drew beads of blood from her own palms.

"My Queen," Empusa said, her tone heavy with reluctance. The demoness dropped to one knee before clearing her throat nervously. "My children fought courageously—"

"So what?!" Hera roared, her anger fuming like a toxic cloud. "That wretched girl wiped out your entire battalion in a matter of days!"

"I..." Empusa stammered, words entirely failing her.

"Where is the rest of your army?!" Hera demanded, shooting the demoness a withering, stern glare.

"A mobilisation of the Helltides of that size will take—"

"I know, I know!" Hera interjected, the boiling rage flushing her face crimson. Her gaze darted back to the plumes, watching the shadowy mass of the Helltides moving in from the adjacent region. Their pace was not slow by any means, but it wasn't fast enough.

"We might have underestimated her power, my Queen," Empusa stated the painful obvious. The demoness rose to her feet, puffing out her chest with newfound resolution. "Let me take the field. Let me fight her alongside my minions!"

"I never imagined she'd go all out like this. The initial clash should have been a warning enough." Feeling hopelessly outplayed, Hera dragged her hands down her face and up into her scalp, her nails digging harshly into her elegant updo. "What did you suggest we do? Engaging her in the mortal combat ourselves?"

"Not right away, Your Eminence. We still possess nine-tenths of the total demonic forces," Empusa said, trying to sound firm.

"And how many of them are actually combat-ready?" Hera asked a very sharp question, and one that made Empusa's jaw hang open slightly as she mentally processed the bleak statistical reports.

"Um... there seems to be a slight miscalculation—"

"What?" Hera's voice dropped into a dangerous, guttural growl.

Empusa swallowed hard, replying with a trembling voice. "Only a hundred million are fully fitted with armaments. The Forged Mountain production lines... they haven't been reporting the true numbers."

"Are you certain of this?" Hera shot back, her eyes narrowing into dangerous slits.

"We... we audited the forges three times, Your Majesty," Empusa reaffirmed, though her tone remained hesitant.

"Damn those Hekatons and Cyclopes," Hera spat, grinding her teeth in fury. "Too many useless arms and one useless eye! I’ll cut their arms off one by one when this is over!"

Nothing seemed to be working in her favour. The gross underestimation of Aurora's raw power and defensive capabilities. The delayed logistics of the Helltides. And now, this crippling armament shortage. Everything was rapidly spiralling out of control.

A rhythmic headache began to thump violently against Hera's skull. She had always known those enslaved smiths were never truly loyal. It was a structural issue she would have to fix personally, but not today. With a great effort of will, she pushed the problem aside.

"If I may make a suggestion," Empusa began, her tone returning to a steady firmness. "If push comes to shove, I will use D'Arcane on my own minions to fuel my innate power. With enough sacrificial souls acting as a combined power, I should be able to overwhelm and defeat Aurora."

Hera's lips parted in a surprised 'O'. That level of ruthless sacrifice wasn't something she typically expected, even from the Supreme Arch-Demoness. "Very well, then." She let out a long breath, feeling the immediate, burning heat of her anger begin to dissipate.

"I will not disappoint you, Your Eminence," Empusa promised, performing a deeply awkward, stiff curtsy.

"Very well…" After a long, calculating moment of silence, Hera lifted a slender finger. "New strategy. Notify your Unsullied immediately and prepare for full mobilisation. I want you to move all of your Helltides to this specific region," Hera commanded, pointing imperiously at the glowing map projected from one of the scrying plumes.

"How many?" Empusa questioned, her eyes widening slightly.

"All of them. Every last able-bodied warrior we have," Hera emphasised, her tone absolute. Then, slowly, her lips curled upwards into a truly devilish grin.

***

"Hera..."

The soft-spoken voice echoed through the vast, chilling expanse of the subterranean throne room. High obsidian walls exuded a grim, oppressive atmosphere that seemed to swallow the light. At the centre of the cavernous hall sat a grand, dual throne, though only one seat was currently occupied by the brooding, shadowed presence.

"Brother," Hera replied, her usually haughty voice softening into something resembling a desperate plea. "The wretched girl who made a mockery of us—the mightiest of the gods—has finally been dragged here into Tartarus. I want her crushed as soon as possible, leaving nothing to chance. And so, I come before you to seek your martial assistance."

"Hera..." the voice sighed, utterly unyielding despite its gentle cadence. "Was it not I who bent the rule of my realm for you?"

Hera studied the god before her, his expression unreadable.

"I have already assisted you enough." There was a finality in his tone.

"What are you saying? Join us and finish this!" she implored, stepping forward.

"No..." the Lord of the Underworld drawled softly from the shadows.

"But—"

"Leave me." The absolute darkness of the abyss laced his every word, leaving no room for debate.

Unwilling to concede, Hera swallowed hard and tried one last time. "But, Brother, please, we are this close—"

"Leave this place at once!" The sudden, booming authority in his voice sent a violent shudder down her spine. The sheer oppressive power of it froze even the Queen of Heaven in her tracks.

Eventually, biting her lower lip in bitter defeat, she spun on her heel and stormed out of the obsidian temple, carrying the heavy weight of frustration and deep embarrassment with her.

Striding through the gloomy corridors of the Underworld, she crushed the hem of her cloak in her white-knuckled fists. Her large, beautiful boopis eyes were ablaze with unadulterated fury.

"Fine! I'll just have to do it myself!" she hissed venomously, grinding her teeth. If the God of the Underworld refused to partake in her war, then she would simply burn the world down without him.