Rona.
My heart caught in my chest as I stared at him.
The Progenitor.
He leaned forward slightly, resting his chin on his knuckles. Dark hair fell carelessly over sharp features carved by time itself. His most striking feature was his eyes. They glowed a bright, captivating red.
"What do we have here?" he asked. His voice was smooth. Ancient.
He stared down at me, and the pressure wrapped around my body, crushing my lungs.
Charon grabbed my arm, forcing me down onto my knees. "She is but a mere mortal, not worthy of the Lord's wrath."
The Progenitor dismissed the plea with a lazy wave of his hand, but his eyes never left me, tracking my every movement.
"You're a loud one, aren't you?" He beckoned to me. The crushing force eased, just enough for me to breathe.
Charon tugged at my sleeve, his voice barely above a whisper. "Plead your case. Fast."
I didn't know where to begin. Everything about this man made the words shrivel in my throat.
"You were so mouthy earlier. Cat got your tongue?" The words rolled from his lips, coated in dark honey.
This was my only chance. I couldn't waste it.
I lowered my head. A sudden surge of courage coursed through me as the words finally escaped. "Progenitor, I need a second chance."
The Progenitor's smile vanished.
The air grew heavy, charged and somewhere in the distance, thunder cackled faintly.
"What makes you think I can grant your request?" His voice cut through the silence, sharp and effortless.
"You're the one who makes the rules. You can—"
He cut me off with a slight grin, clearly amused by my unease. "Good." He lifted a golden goblet, tenderly tracing its rim. "So tell me, why should I help you, Rona Reid?"
The question lodged itself deep inside me.
Why should he, an all-powerful being, choose to help a mortal clinging desperately to a life she had already lost?
My fists hung uselessly at my sides.
Clench. Unfurl.
Clench. Unfurl.
I repeated the motion in my mind like a mantra.
What makes me different?
"…I don't know." My voice came out raspy, uncertain.
The fragile string of logic I had been holding onto finally snapped.
"I don't know if I'm different or not. I just know I'm not normal. Every single time life comes at me with full force."
I took a step forward, fists tightening. "And every single time, I'm expected to overcome it. And I have… I always have."
My voice cracked, tears burning my eyes as I fought back a sob. "All I ever wanted was to be happy."
"What does fate do?" I continued, the words spilling faster now. "She slaps me in the face with the biggest cheating scandal imaginable, swaps my baby with a spawn of death, hands my company over to my cheating fiancé, and sends me to rot in that damned cell."
That was my breaking point.
My knees buckled, and I collapsed onto the cold floor. Salty tears streamed down my cheeks, blurring my vision as I stared ahead.
The words that followed shattered what little strength I had left.
"I refuse your request."
"No… please. No." My voice broke completely. "Please, I'll do anything. Just give me a chance. Just one chance."
Footsteps echoed loudly through the hall as he approached me
"I believe this calls for a little sightseeing." His fingers reached out, barely grazing my cheek.
That was all it took. A single, minuscule touch.
The world folded.
My stomach lurched, bile rising up my throat as I gagged.
"You'll get used to it soon," the Progenitor whispered.
I lifted my head, and chaos erupted before me.
We were in a hospital. Lights flashed harshly as doctors barked orders and nurses swung into motion. A stroller rolled past, and I caught a fleeting glimpse of a woman gasping desperately for breath, an oxygen mask strapped tight to her face.
It was a mess.
Doctors rushed from bed to bed, attending to those who had lost too much blood, those teetering on the edge of death.
Grim reapers, just like Charon, stood off to the side with their heads lowered.
"Every single one of them is just like you."
The world twisted again.
We were in a surgery room. Doctors shouted instructions, hands moving frantically.
Too late.
The heart monitor flat-lined.
"They had families. Accomplishments. Goals. It was all cut short."
My gaze remained fixed on the woman lying lifeless on the operating table, though I could feel the Progenitor watching me.
Reality snapped.
A young child. Cancer. Surgery.
The heart monitor flat-lined.
"But, death is not the end," he said calmly. "It never was."
A pause.
"It has always been a new beginning."
I shook my head, rejecting his words. "No. I don't want a new beginning. My old one worked just fine."
"That was never your choice to make, Rona." His fingers brushed mine again.
The air twisted.
This time, we stood on a cliff overlooking a vast river. Dark waters churned below, sending a chill through my spine. I didn't need anyone to tell me where we were.
Styx.
A massive boat ferried translucent beings across the river. The sky above was perpetually dark, lit occasionally by flashes of light and the distant cackle of thunder.
The Progenitor lifted a finger, pointing toward a barren land beyond the horizon.
I could see them clearly. Souls darkened almost to pitch black.
"Those are souls like you," he said softly. "The ones who refuse to accept the new."
My words came out garbled. "What happened to them?"
"Their essence rots," he replied. "And in that decay, they birth something new."
I wanted to ask more, but the deathly calm in his tone told me he had said enough.
I closed my eyes and drew in a slow breath.
What do I do now?
When I opened them, we were back in the throne room. The atmosphere crawled with something divine and suffocating.
A mischievous smile curved the Progenitor's lips.
"But you, little one have gotten my attention."
Something twisted in my chest. Every instinct I had screamed that attracting the attention of this predator was not a blessing.
"I'd like to offer you a deal, Rona Reid."
He raised the goblet to his lips, red wine trailing down his chin as he drank.