Page 13

Time, for most, was linear. Even my Reapers perceived it as such. They knew of a beginning, and they expected an end. I, however, experienced time as something fluid. My past, my present, and my future were melted into one another—a swirling soup of things that had happened, things that were happening, and things that had yet to happen. Unlike the living, I did not care for preventing the future from taking something from me, including my own existence. It wasn’t my responsibility to stand before the fates and tell them “Not today!” I saw everything, and I floated with it. Through it. Under and over it.

Living in the past, the present, and the future at once could be confusing, even for me. Focusing on a singular thread sometimes made everything more bearable. It anchored me somewhere, and I no longer felt like I was wandering aimlessly in the never-ending expanse of the cosmos.

I kept an eye out for it. My mistakes were still fresh in my mind. The way I’d treated Unending. The way I’d treated all my Reapers, for that matter, even the wretched Spirit Bender. Many people claimed he was my gravest mistake, but I had always disagreed. He’d been a resourceful bastard, yes, but no one could ever be as dangerous as the World Crusher. And to think I had allowed the Soul Crusher to name himself, comfortable knowing his eldest sister would never see the light of day again. The similarity between their names still made me cringe.

“I’ve made a mess of things,” I said. Sometimes speaking words aloud made the statements feel more real, if only for a moment. Nothing was truly linear to me. Not even actions and the consequences that came with them. Everything expanded into a flurry of events that I had to make sense of, to understand and acknowledge.

Unlike the Reapers, I maintained an undying connection to the World Crusher. She wasn’t linked to anyone else. Now that she was free, they would not be able to feel her like I could. Tracing her steps from Biriane required a certain amount of concentration. My beloved Thieron lit up white as the scythe, resonating with the faint energy traces World had left behind. All I had to do was follow, though I would need more to get a precise location.

She led me far from her prison, across oceans of sparkling dynasties and an abyss of emptiness, through asteroid fields and along floating rivers of multicolored stardust. The pinks were deep and mesmerizing, electrified by the pure, untamed energy that burned through them, courtesy of the Word. We were so far from the known reaches of the universe, so deep within existence, that I could sense my brother’s sleepy presence in everything around us. It wasn’t his custom to intervene, and I doubted he would unless I asked. And I wouldn’t ask until I was absolutely overwhelmed and unable to resolve this on my own.

Considering how my ego had gotten the better of me before, I wasn’t sure where that particular line would be drawn. But the World Crusher was my mess to clean up and no one else’s. I had made her, and I had made her too strong—her power nearly rivaled my own. My dread of utter loneliness had clouded my judgment and foresight, the irony of which did not escape me. Taking a deep breath, I tried to envision the path ahead.

I settled on the back of a turbulent comet. Its tail trailed red and purple behind me, furiously sparking and flashing. The light emanating from this magnanimous projectile coursed through me and helped soothe my fragile nerves. I did not like chasing after people. I had not existed for so long to have my leg pulled by lesser beings. And if they thought they could get the better of me, then they were dumber than I’d thought.

“There you are,” I muttered, glancing ahead. Swarming across a tumbling asteroid, six Ghoul Reapers huddled together behind a sharp ridge, thinking they could hide from me. I’d allowed my presence to be felt. I’d wanted them to sense me coming. Their fear was my delight. The World Crusher wasn’t too far away, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to reach her without the ghouls’ help, and they were too indoctrinated by her toxicity to leave her be. The Ghoul Reapers followed the World Crusher around, so I only had to follow the Ghoul Reapers. My connection to World was worthless if she insisted on hiding herself from me. I felt her through Thieron, but I just couldn’t put my finger on her.

I hopped off the comet, leaving its delicious heat behind. My bare feet touched the rugged asteroid, its surface embedded with cold flakes of platinum that cooled my soles. I heard the Ghoul Reapers scrambling to get away from me. Raising Thieron, I whispered my magic. The pulse exploded outward to raise an invisible barrier around us on a twenty-yard radius. Whenever the Ghoul Reapers tried to breach it, blue light ripples danced across its surface. I heard their muttered curses and whispered concerns. Yes, they knew I’d caught them.

The Spirit Bender had been a bitter being, and I had contributed to his anger by withholding the survival of his species. I’d enjoyed playing with the beings I’d created. Some, I’d only messed with briefly—like Dream and Nightmare’s addiction to the dreams of the living. They would never wean off it. Ever. For as long as they existed, the twins would feel the pull of people’s dreams. Their souls would demand the nourishment. With others, I’d gone to greater lengths. The Spirit Bender had had it the worst, though Unending—the poor girl—I’d never meant to torment her like this. The ability to grant immortality should have been something wondrous and honorable, but I had forbidden Unending to give it to anyone, and then I’d chastised her for doing it anyway. It had not been my intention at the time. I’d wanted her to use it, and then I’d changed my wretched mind.

Each of the First Ten had suffered at my hands in one form or another, yet they had loved and worshipped me. I had nothing but adoration for them as well, but I also did not care much if they suffered. I lacked a proper grasp of pleasure or joy. The Time Master had once said that I was like a child with a magnifying glass on a bright sunny day, having stumbled upon an ant colony. I caused pain only to see what would happen. That was a shamefully accurate description.

And the Time Master… He felt time as I did, with no actual beginning, middle, or end, and with no power to change anything he saw coming, either. I’d tweaked his ability with that specific limitation. He could go into the future or the past, but only by a minute or two. He could see much farther than that, but his mouth simply refused to open whenever he wished to talk about it. His physical form refused to move whenever he tried to do something about it. Time had tried many times to prevent tragedies from occurring, but he’d eventually given up. He’d learned to keep it all to himself.

I wondered how long it would be before he turned against me. It was bound to happen. Unending was already bitter beyond repair, but at least she was in a body and busy with other aspects of her existence. One less Reaper for me to worry about in terms of a potential mutiny. For now, my focus had to remain on the World Crusher. Of all my creations, she was the most dangerous. She had the power to undo everything in the realm of the living, and she had the will to do it. For the time being, my only fortune was that she wasn’t aware of it, though I was certain she’d had plenty of time for in-depth studies during her imprisonment.

“There’s no point in hiding,” I said, loud enough for the Ghoul Reapers to hear me.

One by one, they came out from behind the black jagged ridge, each warier than the last. The sight of them made me smile, even while they shuddered with a mixture of fear and anger in my presence. They still resembled the Reapers I’d hired to keep the World Crusher from destroying Biriane, but they also looked like the failures who’d helped undo the one element that had kept her from seeking revenge against me for so long. This was what she wanted. Revenge. And I probably deserved it, but the living did not. I owed it to the universe that had made me to try and do something about this.

“You boys are in a heap of trouble,” I added, measuring each of the Ghoul Reapers from head to toe. Eneas was still their leader, tall and slender, with black marble eyes and long blond hair. His brothers were like slightly modified copies of him, as only a few differences made them distinguishable from him. Fileas’ features were more refined, his physical grace distinctive and unforgettable. His scythe cut the deepest, too. He was the first to speak.

“I think we’ve earned our freedom.”

I nodded to Hadras. The scars of Tristan’s handiwork persisted, but he’d healed well. “You’re a mess. Thank you, nonetheless. Had you not engaged Unending’s husband, I wouldn’t have discovered that peculiar ability of his.”

“You’re telling me you didn’t know he could do that?” Eneas shot back, sneering as he crossed his arms and met my gaze in defiance.

“Believe it or not, I can still be surprised,” I replied dryly. “As for your freedom, it was fraudulently obtained and therefore invalid.”

That earned me furious growls from Filicore and Malin, but Deas wasn’t surprised. Instead, he shook his head, the corner of his mouth twitching. “I told you she’d come after us.”

“You deceived Unending into setting the World Crusher free. You conspired with my first Reaper, and that, my darlings, borders on unforgivable. You’ve unleashed potential destruction upon the same universe you were sworn to protect,” I said. “How will you repair this catastrophic error?”

The Ghoul Reapers exchanged nervous glances. None dared to challenge what I had just said, because they knew it to be true. I might have been an absolute bitch to keep them locked down on Biriane for so long, but I couldn’t leave a bunch of Ghoul Reapers free, either. And I certainly did not want to destroy them, undeserving as they were of becoming such soulless creatures. They were unfortunate accidents, and I wished I had the ability to truly care about them. But I did not. There was no point in saying otherwise.

“When Unending showed up outside the Temple of Roses, you should have sent her away,” I said. “But you didn’t. You had allied yourselves with Anunit, hadn’t you?”

Eneas scoffed. “Why does it matter? It’s done. There’s no turning back now.”

“But there is a way to fix it,” I replied.

“We’re free. You can’t do this to us again!” Filicore snarled, but Malin held him back. His rage was palpable, however. And I certainly deserved it.

I laughed, mockery permeating from my voice. “You must be joking. You’re the ones who conspired to release the World Crusher, and that—”

“Excuse me,” Eneas cut me off. “You said we’d be free only when the World Crusher was free. That meant never.”

“Exactly. You should’ve accepted the ‘never,’” I retorted, unwilling to accept reprimands from anyone, let alone a handful of Ghoul Reapers. They were my doing, in a certain sense. They were like this because I had underestimated the kind of damage World might inflict upon others while in captivity. I did bear responsibility for their condition.

Eneas smirked. “We never consented to being on Biriane forever. We answered your call for help, rose to the occasion and gave it our absolute best. And to reward our loyalty, you locked us there. You never gave us a chance.”

“I couldn’t. The damage was already done. At the risk of repeating myself, you should have accepted your fate,” I said. It sounded wrong, even as the words left my lips, but I was never one to easily admit my faults or mistakes in front of others, especially in front of lesser beings. There were things about me I would never wish nor be able to change. Whether anyone liked me or not, it did not matter. I offered a dignified end to everyone, but it was an end, nonetheless. Everything else would fade, including one’s awareness of my existence. “With that out of the way, however, we seem to be facing quite the conundrum, don’t you think?”

Hadras’s lips twisted with disgust. “Of your own making, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Perhaps. But you haven’t exactly been good boys either, or shall I once more bring up the way you deceived Unending into releasing the World Crusher?” I asked, though I already had my answer. It was imprinted on each of their hauntingly beautiful faces. “Good. We’re in agreement, then. Something must be done.”

Eneas shrugged. “Do you have a solution that doesn’t involve dooming us for an eternity? Because we would rather be cast into the nothingness than spend another eon with the World Crusher. Destroy us now, if that is your plan. Otherwise, we’ll keep following her, unable to pull ourselves away.”

He clearly meant it. There was a sliver of regret twisting in the pit of my stomach, but I ignored it. Maybe I did give a damn, after all. No. I could not allow myself such feelings. After everything I had done and everything else that I was about to do, thinking too much about these things would only grieve me, and the universe needed a sane and functional Death, not one crippled with sorrow. My likeability was always a non-issue since no one could ever possibly “like” Death, but my purpose was ironclad. My sense unwavering.

“You shall be free once I’ve retrieved the World Crusher,” I declared. “You are bound to her. Which means you can sniff the World Crusher out precisely, whereas I can only sense her. I need your help to find her and seal her back where she belongs.”

Filicore chuckled bitterly. “You’d better put her on a planet that is already dead, then. You saw what she did to Biriane.”

“That is nothing compared to what she will do to the entire universe if she is left to her own devices,” I warned him. “The longer the World Crusher is free, the stronger she becomes. The seal served to weaken her, not just hold her down.”

“Well, then, it’s a pity you can’t just destroy her, huh?” Malin replied, his tone clipped. I was responsible for that, too. His fearlessness in throwing such reproaches at me should’ve caused anger, but I only felt bumbling bitterness, for it was the truth, and I was tired of denying the unpleasant truth of my many shortcomings. “Had you made her slightly more vulnerable, none of us would be here. You found the strength to destroy one of your own before. Tristan told us. You destroyed the Spirit Bender. You could’ve destroyed the World Crusher too.”

I mustered a sardonic, desert dry smile. “But I cannot, so that is not even an option worth mentioning. What say you, then? Will you help me?”

“Do we even have a choice?” Fileas growled.

“I could destroy you and cast you into the nothingness instead. That is an option, since your brother mentioned it,” I said. “But I would rather let you be. You’ve never eaten souls. Perhaps if I pair you with other Reapers you will continue to exist soul-free. I have no reason to destroy you unless you give me one.”

Eneas thought about it for a while. None of his brothers spoke. Around us, the universe shifted as the asteroid hurtled through space. Stars danced across the black sky. Once in a while, I caught glimpses of rabid pink and flaming orange stardust. The glimmer of a nearby sun dying. The world would keep expanding, and this dimension would keep thriving—as long as the World Crusher was contained. I could not destroy her, and neither could the Word. The last thing I needed was for him to know about her. He would never forgive me.

It was part of the reason I’d asked Unending for her discretion. I couldn’t risk news of the World Crusher reaching Word. I had told him she’d been destroyed ages ago. I’d told Order the same thing. The shame I would feel if my siblings learned about this… It was unbearable to me. I didn’t care much about what anyone thought of me, but the Word and Order… they mattered. More than I would have liked to admit.

“And if we help you,” Eneas finally replied, “you’ll leave us be?”

“On the sole condition that you don’t eat souls. So, technically yes,” I said.

“It’s the word ‘technically’ that irks me when it comes from you,” Filicore grumbled. Of all six, he was the most fearless when it came to speaking to me. As bold as Spirit was, though never as evil nor as selfish. I’d had the fae brothers raised from the dead and turned into Reapers because they had died selflessly to protect their kind. I’d thought an eternity ushering souls into the afterlife might feel like the right reward for what they had done. Instead, they’d ended up as six miserable hybrids, forever stuck between ghoul and Reaper forms, poisoned by the World Crusher.

“None of this is your fault,” I conceded. “Aside from your little game with Unending, of course. It would be unfair and hypocritical of me to state otherwise.” And I’d been hypocritical enough to last them a thousand lifetimes already. “You have my word on this. Help me catch the World Crusher, help me lock her away again, and I shall let you be, as long as you don’t deprive a single soul of their afterlife.”

Eneas smiled. “Like you deprived us, you mean.”

“Exactly.”

“It’s a deal,” he replied. “We’re in.”

“You will risk destruction. World will not come voluntarily,” I warned them.

“We risk destruction either way,” Eneas sighed. “At least, if we work with you, we’ll actually be doing a bit of good for this world. Our fates will not have been in vain.”

And so it began. The strangest collaboration I’d ever heard of, though not the first of its kind, nor the last: I had enlisted the services of the living. I had dispatched Reapers of my realm too. But the Ghoul Reapers were strangely independent. Their mere existence demanded my respectful approach. An agreement had been reached and just in time, for the World Crusher’s presence burned through me, stronger than ever.

She was nearby, somewhere within this cluster of galaxies. I brought the invisible shield down and motioned for the Ghoul Reapers to go. “Lead the way,” I said, and they did. The World Crusher was my mess to fix, yes. But I could not do it alone.

Perhaps this time around I would finally accept that I was unique, but not all powerful nor unbeatable. My own creations had proven that more than once. Perhaps I should take notice. In the end, I wished to be able to go back to Unending and show her that I could do better. The future had already shown me that much, so why fight it?