CHAPTER 38: GOD OF DEATH

Jack stood rigid in the middle of the room. Every muscle in his body coiled like a spring ready to snap. His skin crawled with the sensation of being observed and catalogued like some exotic specimen in a menagerie.

’System, you said someone is watching me. Can you tell me anything else about them?’

[Analyzing...]

[The presence is powerful, but... strange. It doesn’t feel like the other chosen ones or palace guards.]

Jack’s hand instinctively went to Draven’s pendant. The metal had grown noticeably hotter since his conversation with Aurelius, as if responding to some unseen threat.

’What do you mean by that?’

[I’m not entirely sure. The energy signature is... muffled, somehow. Whatever is watching you isn’t entirely present in this realm.]

Jack forced himself to appear calm, continuing his casual pace around the room while his mind raced. If someone was observing him, they were doing it for a reason.

’Can you pinpoint where the observation is coming from?’

[Not precisely. The sensation seems to be emanating from... everywhere. It’s as if the very air around you has eyes.]

Jack paused near the crystal window, pretending to admire the view of the sprawling capital below. In reality, he was using the reflection in the glass to scan his chamber more thoroughly..

The bed with its silk sheets and golden posts looked innocent enough. The writing desk in the corner only had ink, a quill, and some parchment. The wardrobe containing his new clothes showed no signs of magical enhancement. Even the marble table where Lyra had placed his meal showed nothing unusual.

But then Jack’s gaze fell on something he hadn’t noticed before.

Beside the wardrobe, partially hidden in the shadow cast by an ornate tapestry, lay a small object on the floor.

Jack’s breath caught in his throat. That object definitely hadn’t been there when he’d first entered the room. Someone had placed it there while he’d been unconscious, or perhaps while he’d been distracted by Lyra’s visit.

’System, do you see that object by the wardrobe?’

[Yes. And Jack... that’s where the watching sensation is strongest.]

Moving as casually as he could manage, Jack wandered toward the wardrobe as if simply exploring his new accommodations. The closer he got to the mysterious object, the more his pendant heated against his chest. By the time he was standing directly over it, the metal was almost too hot to touch.

The object was a key.

But not just any key. This was a piece of craftsmanship that belonged in legends, not lying on the floor of a palace bedroom.

The metal was so black it looked like staring into an abyss.

The key was roughly the length of Jack’s hand, with an ornate head that depicted what looked like a skull wreathed in flames. The teeth of the key were jagged and irregular, suggesting it was meant to open something very specific.

Jack knelt slowly, reaching for the key with trembling fingers. The moment his skin made contact with the dark metal, a shock ran through his entire body. Not painful, but it was like touching a live wire.

[Artifact detected.]

[Analyzing...]

[??? Key]

[Unable to determine origin or function.]

[WARNING: This artifact resonates with divine power not present in the local pantheon.]

Jack lifted the key, surprised by its weight. The thing was far heavier than its size suggested, as if it were made of compressed starlight.

’System, what do you mean by "not present in the local pantheon"?’

[This artifact bears the signature of a deity not currently active in this region.]

Jack turned the key over in his hands, examining every detail. Along the shaft, he could make out what looked like writing in a language he didn’t recognize, though something about the symbols felt familiar in a way that made his head ache.

But it was the word etched near the key’s head that made his breath catch.

"INSERT."

The word was written perfectly, as if whoever had left this wanted to ensure Jack understood its purpose.

’Insert where?’ Jack muttered aloud, then immediately regretted speaking. If someone was still watching him, he’d just revealed that he’d found their gift.

He stood, key clutched in his fist, and began examining his chamber with new eyes. If this key was meant to open something, there had to be a corresponding lock somewhere in the room.

But where?

The writing desk revealed nothing when he examined it closely. The wardrobe’s lock was a simple brass affair that clearly wouldn’t accommodate the ornate key. The door to his chamber was secured by crystal mechanisms that bore no resemblance to traditional locks.

Jack was beginning to think he was missing something when his gaze fell on the door itself.

There, at exactly eye level, was a small depression in the crystal surface. It was roughly keyhole-shaped, but so perfectly integrated into the door’s design that it looked decorative.

Jack would never have noticed it if he hadn’t been specifically looking for somewhere to use the key.

’That can’t be right,’ he thought. ’If inserting this key opens my door, then anyone could have freed me at any time.’

But even as the logical part of his mind protested, his body was already moving toward the door.

Standing before the door, Jack could see that the depression was indeed the perfect size and shape for his mysterious key. The moment he held the key near the lock, the skull began to glow.

’System, what do you think will happen if I use this key?’

[I honestly don’t know, Jack. But whatever divine power left this for you went to considerable trouble to place it here without detection. That suggests they believe you need whatever lies beyond this door.]

Jack’s hand hesitated inches from the lock. Once he inserted this key, there would be no going back.

He was already a prisoner of the crown, already marked as a dangerous weapon to be controlled and wielded. How much worse could his situation become?

But then he thought of Aurelius’s predatory smile, of Lyra’s sad acceptance of her golden cage, of the casual way the chosen one had spoken of breaking him down and rebuilding him in their image.

The crown wanted to strip away everything that made him Jack, Jack. They just wanted to turn him into another loyal weapon.

At least this key offered the unknown. And unknown was better than the certain misery of gradual spiritual death.

Jack inserted the key.

The moment the dark metal touched the crystal lock, reality convulsed around him. The door dissolved, revealing not the palace corridor beyond but an impossible vista of starred darkness.

Wind that carried the scent of ancient stone. Jack’s feet left the marble floor as invisible forces pulled him toward the portal. He had just enough time to think before the darkness swallowed him whole.

When the world finally solidified around him again, Jack found himself standing on a platform of black stone suspended in a void so vast it made his mind reel.

Above him wasn’t the sky but an endless darkness punctuated by stars that were the wrong color. Below was something that made his knees weak with vertigo.

But it was the architecture that truly took his breath away. This wasn’t just a dungeon, it was a monument to cosmic horror. Massive chains hung in the air between floors, some supporting floating platforms, others simply disappearing into the darkness as if they were meant to bind things too terrible to be seen.

The air itself felt heavy with age and malice. This place was old, older than kingdoms, older than the current pantheon of gods, possibly older than humanity itself.

A series of notifications popped up in front of his eyes.

[Welcome to the Tartarus Spire]

[Rank: Primordial]

[WARNING!! Extreme caution advised.]

[Current Floor: Entrance Platform.]

[Descent Available: Floor 1- ???]

’System, what the hell have I gotten myself into?’

[Something far beyond what we’ve encountered before, Jack. The power readings from this place are disturbing. Whatever built this was operating on a scale that makes dragons look like house cats.]

Before Jack could respond, the air behind him began to shimmer. The space twisted, reality bending like hot glass, until a figure stepped through the distortion as casually as walking through a doorway.

The figure was impossibly tall and clad in armor that seemed to be forged from the nightmares of dying stars.

The metal was black as the void between worlds, but shot through with veins of crimson that pulsed like a heartbeat. Massive pauldrons rose from his shoulders like the wings of fallen angels, and his helmet was wrought in the shape of a skull whose eye sockets burned with the light of collapsing suns.

When the figure spoke, his voice carried the weight of eons and the casual authority of someone who had watched civilizations rise and fall like summer grass.

"Well, well, well. Took you long enough."

Jack’s mouth went dry. He didn’t need an introduction to know who this was. The very air around the figure whispered of death. This was not just any god, but one of the primordial powers that had ruled before the current pantheon had even drawn breath.

’You must be the God of Death,’ Jack managed, his voice barely above a whisper.

The armored figure chuckled, and the sound was like distant thunder rolling through a graveyard.

"Got it in one, lightning boy. Though I have to say, you’re handling this better than the last few mortals who found their way down here. Those poor bastards just screamed until their vocal cords gave out."