The Abyssal Cave.
The stars did not simply shine in the era of the original, they pulsed in rhythm with her heartbeat.
High atop the glass pillar, where the air was thin enough to bleed the lungs of mortal men, Nyx stood at the edge of the world. She was not merely a queen she was night itself. To look upon her was to see the beginning and the end of all things. Behind her, the Abyssal cave hummed, a living monument of stone that breathed when she breathed.
For eons, she had known no equal. She had watched empires crumble into dust and seen the birth of suns that now lit the very horizon she guarded. She was eternal. She was absolute.
And she was, for the first time in ten thousand years, smiling.
"It is done, Great One," a voice whispered, cutting through the sacred silence of the night.
Nyx did not turn. She knew the rhythm of that voice better than she knew the sound of the wind. It belonged to Blackwell her most loyal disciple, the man she had pulled from the gutters of a dying village and raised to the rank of High Priest. To her, he was more than a servant he was the legacy she would leave behind when she eventually tired of the heavens.
"The elixir of the Ethereal Core,"
Blackwell continued, his footsteps soft against the polished floor. He held out a chalice carved from a single, diamond. Inside, a liquid swirled with the color of a dying star a gold so bright it pained the eyes.
"As you requested. To bolster the seal between this realm and the Void."
Nyx reached out, her fingers long and elegant, tipped with nails like polished amethyst closing around the cold diamond. She felt a faint tremor in Blackwell's hand as he let go. In her arrogance, she mistook it for awe. In her divinity, she mistook his silence for reverence.
"You have done well, Blackwell"
Nyx said, her voice like the tolling of a midnight bell.
"When I have consumed this, the Void shall never again threaten the peace of the mortals you so love."
She raised the chalice. The liquid touched her lips sweet, at first, like the nectar of one of Artemis's comb. But as it slid down her throat, the sweetness turned to molten lead.
The chalice shattered against the obsidian floor, the sound echoing like a thunderclap in the silent temple.
Nyx gasped, her hand flying to her throat as a violent, searing heat erupted in her chest. It wasn't just pain, it was a dissolution. She felt her connection to the stars snap. The shadows that usually danced at her feet suddenly recoiled, as if she had become something loathsome something malignant.
"Blackwell..." she choked out, her knees hitting the stone with a force that cracked the floor. The impact vibrated through her bones, a sensation of weakness she hadn't felt since the dawn of time.
She looked up, her vision blurring into a haze. The disciple was no longer kneeling. He stood over her, his face once a mask of devotion now twisted into a sneer of cold, calculating ambition.
"You were always too powerful to kill, Nyx,"
Blackwell whispered, leaning down until his breath was hot against her ear.
"But even a goddess can be caged. This is not death. It is an eternity of silence. Your powers will soon have a new master,"
His face contorted, shifting into an expression so repulsive that Nyx felt her spirit recoil. She spat out a mouthful of onyx-colored liquid the blood of a true god staining the glass pillar.
With a laugh so full of madness that it seemed to fracture the night sky, Blackwell drew the Obsidian Blade. It was Nyx's own weapon, forged from her heart's blood, capable of ripping holes in the fabric of the universe
"Having fun?"
Blackwell directed the question at the shadows hiding behind the pillars.
Seven red lights flashed. Seven men in blood red robes materialized.
"Bind her," one commanded.
"Bind her now and complete the ritual while she is at her weakest"
one of the cloaked figure suddenly stretched his hand with a crystal like chain emerging from the darkness in front of him, while the others quickly bound Nyx who was without an ounce of physical strength.
"Blackwell... why... I trusted you..." Nyx's voice was a whisper of its former self.
As they began the transfer, the Obsidian Blade began to glow with a frantic, sentient light. With one last surge of sheer determination, Nyx puffed her cheeks and blew a final divine breath. It wasn't a gasp for air, it was a command to the world.
A chaotic whirlwind erupted. The Obsidian Blade tore itself from Blackwell's hand, acting as a needle causing a rift in the sky. Before the ritual could finish, Nyx's soul surged toward that rift, following the blade like a guiding light into the Abyssal Void.
"No!"
Blackwell screamed, reaching for the empty air
The rift snapped shut. The empty shell of the Goddess lay on the icy floor, a beautiful, immortal statue. Around the world, the sea beat against the shore like drums of war. The sky bled red strikes of lightning.
Soon the cloaked men began merging with the darkness, disappearing one after the other leaving each a visible look of fear etched in their eyes . Without any acknowledgement to Blackwell who looked on, confusion and fear slithering it way into his heart as the darkening sky pulsed with a streak of lightning.
With a 'Ting' sound like a death knell, the echoes spreads from horizon to horizon, the ethereal realms vibrating, tiny tears appearing on the sky plains, thunder roaring as the skies lit up with red strikes like fire piercing the skies.
Gathering the sacred vessel of the once powerful goddess Nyx, Blackwell shimmered and also merged into the darkness with words ringing behind.
"You will never taste the power of the gods".