Grief is a heavy anchor, dragging the soul down into the deepest, darkest trenches of the mind.
Jessica Oblivion had lived a full, ordinary life before the end of the world. She had raised seven children, watched them grow, and celebrated the births of fourteen beautiful grandchildren. She had believed they were safe.
Her seven children had built homes near her, creating a sprawling, laughter-filled estate. She remembered the sound of their voices running through the grass during hot summer afternoons.
Then, the sky caught fire.
Seven blinding flashes of light had turned her entire family, and the rest of humanity, into ash in a matter of seconds. The nuclear holocaust spared her, leaving her to wander the ruins alone.
She had survived the initial blasts by a cruel twist of fate, left to walk the scorched, silent bones of Earth. For three agonizing years, the crushing silence of the empty planet slowly drove her mad. Every empty playground she passed, every abandoned toy she saw, was a knife to her throat.
For survival, she had scavenged canned goods and slept in the hollowed-out shells of suburban homes. The rain had turned black, and the air constantly tasted of ash and copper.
Drinking a lethal cocktail of old medications had seemed like her only escape, a quiet exit from a world that had nothing left to offer. She had laid down on her old bed, closed her eyes, and waited for the dark.
Yet, death refused to claim her.
Instead, she floated now in a silent, starless ocean of absolute nothingness, suspended in a cold twilight.
"You cannot escape so easily, Jessica," a voice echoed, smooth as polished obsidian.
Before her, a figure coalesced from the deep black. Pale skin contrasted against eyes that held the depth of dying galaxies.
Hekate, the dark goddess, stood in the void, looking down at the broken matriarch with an expression that was surprisingly tender.
"Let me rest," Jessica whispered, her throat dry, though she had no physical body to speak of. "I have paid my dues to the earth."
"There is no rest for the blood of the Void," Hekate replied, stepping closer, her feet leaving ripples of violet light in the darkness.
With a wave of the goddess’s hand, the darkness around them fractured.
Visions burst to life.
Fourteen phantoms of children, their skin bubbling under a nuclear sun, their voices screaming in silent agony, burned before Jessica’s eyes.
"No!" Jessica shrieked, reaching out, but her fingers passed through the agonizing illusions. "Turn it off! Please, turn it off!"
"Look at them," Hekate commanded, though her tone held a strange, ancient sorrow. "They are gone because your world was fragile. But you are not."
"Your survival was no miracle, Jessica," Hekate continued, her gaze piercing. "It was the awakening of your dormant Void ancestry. Your body did not register the radiation as a threat because it drank the poison and asked for more."
Jessica collapsed onto her knees, weeping tears of pure, liquid shadow. "Why do you torment me? I am just a grandmother. I have nothing left to give."
"Hekate knelt beside her, a cool hand resting on Jessica’s trembling shoulder. The touch sent a strange, dark hum through Jessica's spiritual veins.
"I know what it is to be left utterly alone," the goddess murmured, her dark eyes reflecting Jessica's grief. "To watch everything you built crumble, to have no one to guide you, no hand to hold."
"When the old gods fell, I was left in the dark," Hekate said, her voice dropping to a soft, intimate register. "No temples. No prayers. Just the void."
"I have watched you from the dark, Jessica," Hekate said, a soft, wistful smile touching her lips. "I have missed your presence in the cosmos, even before you knew you belonged here. I have faith in you."
"Jessica looked up, searching the goddess’s eyes. She saw no malice there, only a profound solidarity.
Unfamiliar warmth, a strange kind of hope, flickered in Hekate’s gaze.
"You must build a new path," Hekate said, her voice softening. "In a world where they steal the very breath of life, you will be the vacuum."
"In that realm, an insatiable queen harvests the magic of her subjects. You will be the force that drains her dry."
With a gesture, Hekate summoned four artifacts from the darkness.
First came armor of interlocking black dragonscales, sleek and form-fitting, humming with kinetic defense.
Next, a heavy, dark cloak appeared, its fabric seeming to drink the light around it, granting absolute invisibility on command.
Third, a pair of leather gloves materialized, etched with silver runes that throbbed like a heartbeat.
"Your gloves will act as a direct conduit for your Void power," Hekate explained. "They will focus the hunger inside you."
"They will allow you to turn whatever you touch into absolute decay."
Finally, Hekate placed a heavy, gold-and-ruby medallion around Jessica’s neck.
"This is the Aegis of the Worthy," the goddess said, her fingers lingering against Jessica's chest. "If you find a soul worthy of survival, this will drag them back from the very brink of death."
"But remember, trust is a poison in the world you are going to."
Jessica felt the heavy weight of the gear settling onto her form, fusing with her soul.
"Where are you sending me?" Jessica asked, her voice finally hardening, her tears drying.
"To Albion," Hekate whispered.
"A realm of stolen light. Teach them what happens when the dark reclaims its own."
Before Jessica could speak, the void shattered like glass.
---
Searing heat slammed into Jessica's senses, replacing the cool weightlessness of the void.
Bitter sulfur and sweat choked her throat as she gasped for air.
Heavy chains rattled all around her, a rhythmic, deafening clanking that echoed off damp, jagged stone walls.
Waking up on a hard, muddy floor, she barely had time to orient herself before a sharp, crackling pain exploded across her back.
An electrified whip sliced through her clothes, searing the skin beneath.
Pain tore through her nerve endings, but instead of crying out, Jessica let her eyes slide shut.
Deep within her chest, something shifted.
She felt her grief, heavy and agonizing, harden into a freezing, protective layer of absolute emotional detachment.
Love had destroyed her once.
Caring for others had left her a hollow wreck on a dead planet.
Never again.
She resolved right then, amid the filth and clanking metal, never to love another soul.
Beside her, a small boy, no older than seven, wept bitterly.
"Mama! Please, Mama!" the child sobbed, his tiny hands scraping against the rough stone floor as a guard dragged him toward a massive, glowing copper machine.
Jessica watched the boy’s terror with a blank, unreadable expression.
A faint spark of pity flared in her chest, but she ruthlessly crushed it.
Emotional ties were a vulnerability she could no longer afford.
If she helped him, she would care, and she would bleed.
"Shut up, brat!" a guard roared, his face hidden behind a bronze mask shaped like a grinning demon.
Clad in heavy leather armor, the guard bore the crest of Queen Lilithia stamped onto his chest.
In his hand, a thick leather whip crackled with blue arcs of raw electricity.
He kicked the boy aside, turning his cruel, dark gaze toward Jessica.
"You," the guard spat, stepping forward.
"Get up. The Queen’s siphons demand fresh magic, and you look like you have plenty of life left to squeeze out."
Jessica didn't move, her eyes fixed on the guard's muddy boots.
Her silence only fueled his anger.
"I said, get up!"
As the guard raises his whip for a second strike, Jessica's hand reflexively catches the leather, her fingers dissolving it into a plume of absolute black dust that begins crawling up the guard's arm.