books44 TUChapter 4. The Angry Ones
TUChapter 4. The Angry Ones
TU4. The Angry Ones
It had been an hour since they departed the Forsaken Shore. The low hum of the machinery at the ship's core served as a gentle reminder of its system's life. With nothing else to occupy her time, Aurora found herself strolling through the murmuring hallways of the living quarters. Rows of sealed, metallic doors flanked her on both sides.
Pacing absently seemed the only way to maintain her sanity. Charon Aeacus had been frustratingly vague about the journey's duration. "A while," the old man had muttered, immediately turning back to his control panels and blinking displays to check the vessel's status.
Around her, some of the dead had begun to converse with strangers, while others chose to sit in the shadowed corners and brood. Not every death was a good death, and the weight of their passing lingered. These souls weren’t so different from the people of the Overworld. They still clung to their daily lives and routines. Some even acted as though this were merely a cruise to some tropical tourist attraction.
Thanatos had grown quiet. He hovered just behind her, perhaps plotting something in the depths of his mind. She didn’t mind the silent company; this place could feel deeply isolating without a presence nearby.
Aurora took another sip from her Everfeast, wiping a drop of the sweet nectar from her lips. The drink flowed warmly down her throat, replenishing her arcane reservoir.
"You seem to be thirsty quite often," Thanatos remarked. He hovered with his arms crossed horizontally, his posture regal even.
"This?" Aurora wiggled the arc gourd, letting the liquid slosh inside. "It’s to keep my body from dying. There’s no air to breathe down here."
"Oh..." His thin lips formed a surprised O. "Haha, it completely crossed my mind. Your mortal body needs a simple thing like air to survive."
"It’s nothing... I can sustain my vigour with perpetual Iasis," she explained flatly. "Though it is rather annoying."
"It won’t be forever! You’ll be fine once you reach Leimonopolis!" he exclaimed with delight.
"Why?" Aurora squinted her eyes.
"Well," Thanatos paused, "it’s true the dead don’t need air, but other things still function in an atmospheric environment. Take trees, crops, smithing, and agricultural matters, for example."
"Ah... that makes sense." She nodded. She was about to probe why they needed to grow crops at all, but she quickly deduced the reason. Many of these souls came from an agricultural background and likely sold those crops as a commodity. If there were a political aspect in hell, an economic presence wouldn’t be a stretch.
"Combustion and wings, as well!" Thanatos burst out, glancing proudly at his own feathery appendages. "Not these wings, of course. I’m quite divine." He beamed, flashing a wide, toothy smile.
"Did you enjoy that, alright?" A jovial, boisterous chirp reverberated near the end of the hallway. A spotted cheetah tail rounded the corner, followed closely by its owner hauling a large cart laden with pies and a juice station. From the looks of it, she had been serving the passing souls.
"Tachyon," Aurora paused, resting a hand on her hip.
"Empress!" Tachyon greeted them with a bright smile, wheeling the heavy cart towards them. Aurora and Thanatos had to watch the poor Wildren girl limp her way down the corridor for an agonising minute.
"My, you possess all the finest goods," Thanatos purred, laying on his sweet words. "Is this the great Maronian wine, or are my eyes deceiving me?" His dark eyes gleamed.
Tachyon smiled, revealing her small fangs. "It is, my lord. One part to twenty, my lord?" She gestured politely, the very picture of a professional stewardess. She might not openly admit it, but Tachyon genuinely embodied the role. Aurora’s lips twitched upward into a light smile. That’s the best she could offer from the stoic empress.
The god nodded, licking his pale lips. "Other than the scent of blood and death, there’s nothing I favour tasting more than this wine."
Tachyon went visibly pale. She chuckled dryly as she poured one part of the dark wine into a silver goblet, meticulously diluting it with twenty parts of chilled, fresh water.
Smoothly, the god accepted the offering. He swirled the wine beneath his nose, savouring the aroma, before downing it in one swift gulp. "Such divine ecstasy!"
"Would you like some, Empress?" Tachyon turned her attention back to Aurora.
"I’m good," Aurora replied, raising her palms in polite refusal.
"I’ll take another in her stead. The Empress is all business and no play, you see," Thanatos interjected with a sly grin. He consumed the second glass just as quickly as the first.
"Now I understand why Dionysus became the twelfth Olympian god," Tachyon mumbled under her breath as she received the empty goblet.
"Empress, I’m just about finished with this section," Tachyon said, cupping her cheek. The Wildren stood just a bit shorter than Aurora. "How about I show you around the ferry? It can get quite boring around here very quickly."
"That would be great," Aurora nodded appreciatively.
For the next hour, Tachyon played the consummate host, guiding them through the various levels of the colossal battlecruiser. The layout was a dizzying maze at first. They encountered strange stairs that ascended to mezzanine floors, only to dead-end without connecting to the upper decks. Despite her dragging legs, Tachyon enthusiastically showed them the engine room. It housed a massive reactor that utilised nuclear power rather than the Arcanite power standard in Overworld battlecruisers. Tachyon was especially passionate about her personal workshop, located a few floors above the engine room. It was adorned with intricate tools and the advanced apparatus she needed to maintain the titanic beast in the void.
During the tour, Aurora learned that Aeacus had recruited Tachyon roughly a thousand years ago. Back then, she had lived in the Stygian Marsh, far away from Leimonopolis. Her profound love for technological craft had been pieced together from the scraped experiences and memories of passing souls. She had spent her entire fortune obtaining that knowledge.
Through thousands of years of self-learning, unyielding passion, and failed experiments, her understanding of machinery had accumulated until it rivalled that of any expert engineer in the Overworld. She had naturally dubbed herself the chief engineer of the ferry, all while cheerfully performing every menial labour and errand old Aeacus ordered her to do.
It struck Aurora as odd, however, that despite how talkative and open the Wildren was, Tachyon rarely mentioned anything related to her severe injuries. For now, Aurora decided not to probe; the girl undoubtedly had her reasons for keeping the cause of those scars hidden.
Next, Tachyon led them to the artillery deck. Heavy barrels of high-ballistic cannons were arranged in long, imposing arrays that flanked both sides of the hull. The chambers were pre-loaded with high-yield explosive warheads, and even more crates of munitions were stacked nearby. The heavy overhead crane and thick chain hoists told a silent story: this lone Wildren handled all the manual reloading for the heavy artillery. It was clearly another gruelling, laborious task.
"How often do you use this thing?" Aurora pried. Her gloved hands brushed against the oil-soaked surface of a cannon, noting the pristine maintenance of the weaponry. She studied the breech of the barrel. There was a solid trigger device and complex wiring routed through the cable tray underneath. From the looks of it, it was an automated defence system, likely commanded directly from Aeacus's control room.
"Not that often! Once in a decade or so..." Tachyon replied reluctantly. She avoided meeting Aurora’s gaze. The fresh, greasy scratches on her arms were a dead giveaway. She was clearly lying.
"Very well," Thanatos yawned, lazily covering his lips. "Where to next?"
"How about the main deck?" Tachyon suggested with a burst of glee, clearly eager to leave the armoury behind.
After taking a rattling elevator to the uppermost floor, Tachyon stepped out and outstretched her arms to the sides. "And this is the star deck!" she announced, spinning around enthusiastically. "Whoopsie!" Her heavy boot stumbled on the metal plating, sending her spiralling out of balance.
"Careful." Aurora stepped forward instantly, catching the girl mid-fall and pulling her upright.
"Sorry," Tachyon muttered sheepishly.
Recovering her composure, she gestured expansively to the open chamber of the star deck. Only, there were no stars to gaze upon. Massive lamplights mounted at the four corners shot sweeping beams that simply dissolved into the endless subterranean darkness. Aurora took note of several souls loitering and drifting aimlessly across the deck. They were waiting to be judged at Leimonopolis by Minos, the One and Final Arbiter.
At least Aeacus provided some form of entertainment. Low tables were arranged into two neat rows on the port side. Each table hosted two players sitting opposite one another, deeply engaged in a board game of sorts. Above them, a giant projection screen displayed a live feed from the fake sky beneath the ship's belly. With its low-resolution image, it actually resembled a twinkling starry night, offering a brief respite rather than the torment of the unwilling souls.
To her surprise, Aeacus was there. He leaned heavily on his long staff, thoughtfully stroking his beard as he engaged in deep discussion with a small group of souls. It seemed the Charon was doing his due diligence, gathering the latest news and gossip from the world above.
"Ah! It’s you," Aeacus said, noticing their approach. "Enjoying the sail so far, my lord?" he asked, dipping his head respectfully.
"Nothing that I could complain about," Thanatos replied crisply. Meanwhile, Aurora offered a firm, agreeing nod.
"Umm, can I leave you both here?" Tachyon raised her hand tentatively. "I’d like to go repaint some parts of the hallway down there."
Without waiting for actual permission, Tachyon strolled off, leaving the old Charon’s mouth hanging open in mid-sentence. He snapped it shut, turning back to his esteemed guests. "She’s quite a handful, isn’t she?"
"I think you are pushing the boundary between employment and outright slavery there," Thanatos remarked, his tone dropping to a dreadful, serious pitch.
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"M~my lord," Aeacus stammered, his eyes widening. "The lass does it all on her own accord! I would never—"
"Relax. He’s just messing with you, Aeacus," Aurora interjected, grinning in amusement. Beside her, Thanatos let out a demure chuckle, hiding his smile behind his palm.
The old man let out a long, ragged sigh of relief before gesturing for them to take a seat on the nearby low cushions. The leather surface was deeply creased and had faded long ago, but it remained comfortable enough.
After they settled, Aeacus cleared his throat slightly. "I figure the girl already told you about my... recruitment of her?" He poured water from a pitcher into three cups, offering one to each of them.
"She did," Aurora said, accepting the drink. It was nothing but plain, fresh water, but it was refreshing.
"Hmm..." Aeacus hummed, closing his eyes thoughtfully. "Good, good."
"It seems there is more to her than meets the eye, am I right?" Aurora probed. Rather than sitting in calm silence, she had decided it was better to learn more about her companions, and specifically, the inner workings of this ferry.
"Yes... When I first met her at the shipyard to commission my ferry, she was so incredibly passionate about the position..." He coughed into his fist, attempting to hide his sudden shamefulness. "As a stewardess."
"It appears you have an awfully overqualified stewardess," Thanatos quipped.
"That's right. It was my good fortune that I did," Aeacus said, staring into his distorted reflection on the glass. "Together, she helped me design and construct the ferry to exact specifications. If my memory serves me well, it took merely a hundred years to finish." The old man’s chest swelled with pride.
Aurora frowned, taking care not to sound rude or undermine their proud achievement. "But... a battlecruiser of this class is relatively small. In the Overworld, wouldn't it take a maximum of three years to finish production?"
Aeacus laughed boisterously. "Oh, you wouldn't believe how society and resources work in these parts. It’s true that the Underworld is rich with rare earth metals and gems, but we lack the manufacturing technology on par with those of your era..."
"Amongst other things," Thanatos interjected drily. Aeacus simply bobbed his head in agreement.
"Interesting indeed," Aurora murmured, pinching her chin in thought. The more she learned, the more she realised how vast the gaps in her knowledge were regarding this realm. It would have been a monumental discovery for mortalkind if she could have shared this information with Cartier. The little scribe would have been overjoyed, sitting and listening eagerly, scribbling away these fine details for hours on end. The sudden memory of her ward almost brought tears to her eyes. She missed Cartier and all of them so dearly.
Her sudden melancholy paused the plethoric flow of conversation between the god of death and the ferryman. "Are you alright, Empress?" Aeacus asked, his face lined with concern.
"It’s nothing. Just the wind," she said, waving her hand dismissively.
"Very well. It’s time I check in with our chief engineer," Aeacus said, rising slowly from his chair. "It was a delightful talk, my lord. Empress." He tipped an invisible hat before stepping away.
Suddenly, the massive lamplights sweeping the fake sky shifted to a blaring danger red. An emergency siren wailed from every speaker across the ship, signalling one unmistakable detection: Hostility.
"What’s going on?" Aurora rose sharply to her feet, her hand snagging Aeacus’s robe to halt him. The old man froze.
"Empress! It’s the Angry Ones!" Aeacus blurted out, his eyes shrinking to terrified pinpricks. The sheer panic in his expression mirrored the chaos rapidly spreading among the passing souls on the deck.
"To the muster stations! To the muster stations, now!" Aeacus bellowed, waving his staff towards the doors. The souls began darting erratically towards the already crowded elevators. "Use the stairways! Hades’ hell!" The man’s voice cracked into a sombre panic.
Aurora bolted to the observation windows. Outside, the void was pitch black, but the flashing red lights from beneath the hull illuminated the vague, undulating outlines of a massive swarm. Even with her elven night vision, she couldn't count them all. But judging roughly, there had to be thousands.
"We’re not even halfway there!" Aeacus groaned, drifting desperately to the centre of the chamber. He plunged his long staff violently into the deck plating. "Geothron!"
Driven by his arcane command, the heavy metallic gears beneath the floorboards ground into motion. The Charon was undoubtedly an arcanist. Above them, the top carapace of the deck retracted slowly.
The automated cannons sprang to life. The artillery bombardment instantly lit up the dark void. Thunderous, deafening fire shook the ship's thin artificial atmosphere. Yet, the dark swarm simply dispersed and reformed, moving with a terrifying, coordinated tactical intelligence.
"How many are there?" Aeacus asked, scrambling to their side. Thick sweat gathered at his bushy brows.
"Thousands," Thanatos replied crisply. He was the only one smiling.
"Tsk! I hate being right," Aurora said through gritted teeth, staring at the shifting mass. It was a swarm of winged creatures. Their bat-like wings flapped with an ominous, deafening buzz, accompanied by high-pitched, mocking giggles. If the Underworld intended to torment wicked souls, it had clearly birthed something purely evil to do so.
Aeacus caught the edge of Aurora’s shoulder plate. "Empress, please return below deck. It’s my duty to—"
"I will not back down from a fight, Aeacus," Aurora replied firmly, her tone harsher than intended.
Thanatos laughed aloud. "You’re asking the mightiest warrior to hide under your robes? That is comedy gold! Absolute immortal gold!"
"My apologies," Aeacus mumbled, making a sour face.
Soon, the heavy clanking of metal confirmed that the entire battlecruiser was fully locked down, encased in protective steel plates. Weathering the continuous artillery bombardment, the swarm surged at the ferry. The massive hull shuddered violently as the creatures slammed into it, viciously clawing their way at the thick bulwarks.
"Open one port," Aurora commanded Aeacus, glancing back at the terrified souls pooling around the entrance to the lower decks. The thick metal shutters were already forming small dents, their edges gleaming as they buckled under the impact of the angry intruders.
"Why?" Aeacus shouted over the racket, clasping his staff tight.
"We'd rather draw them into a single chokepoint than fight them from every direction when they inevitably breach the bulwark!" Aurora declared.
She raised her hand and summoned her arcane weapon.
"Thanatos-spatha!"
A brilliant purple flame erupted from her palm, shaping and coalescing into a long, exquisite finesse weapon. The Rapier of Calamity. It was the perfect blade for precision attacks without collateral damage to the ferry. Strangely enough, Thanatos remained floating nearby, watching her with keen, amused eyes. In this realm, he didn’t need to manifest as her sword; his true entity and form operated simultaneously.
She nodded appreciatively at the blade's familiar hum.
"Then I hope you’re right—Geothron!" Aeacus commanded through his staff.
With a heavy clank, a single metal blast door retracted upwards. Instantly, gleaming, fiery eyes pierced the gloom, locking onto the cowering souls, hungrily searching for the wickedest among them. The creatures pouring in were hideous crones with unkempt, raven hair and rows of razor-sharp teeth. Their long, grotesque tongues whipped out through the air like fleshy lassos. Their two upper limbs served as both bat-like wings and elongated, terrifying claws, capable of inflicting devastating cleaves that could effortlessly strip meat from bone.
They were the Furies, the children of Erinyes, Goddesses of Vengeance.
Aurora positioned herself directly in the path of the pouring Furies. Her back straightened, one hand resting lightly at the small of her back for perfect balance. Elegant and confident. Her feet bounced slightly, tapping out a practised, rhythmic beat in her mind. She extended her right arm, her index finger stretching out of the rapier's hand-cage to press firmly against the flat of the gleaming purple blade. The grip provided her with the utmost control, right down to the micrometre.
"You shall not take this vessel while I stand!" Aurora announced, her voice ringing with absolute authority. Her eyes glowed silver with immense, surging power.
The moment the ravenous beasts entered her range, she lunged. Aurora became a blinding trail of light, impaling the crones one after another. Her unfathomable speed caused the very air to ignite with friction, flashing brightly as the creatures burst into ash upon impact. She darted along a six-dimensional axis, her dominant arm adjusting ever so slightly, letting her initial momentum carry her flawlessly between targets. By trickling just a speck of her mana to continuously fuel these hyper-efficient micro-actions, she could sustain this deadly dance for an eternity.
To Aurora, this was as effortless as drawing breath. In fact, she knew there weren't nearly enough Furies flooding the chokepoint to push her limits.
Screams of horror erupted from the Furies as they met the relentless jaws of death. They weren't the mindless beasts one might have suspected. Realising they had chosen the absolute worst moment to attack, some of the crones shrieked, scattered, and attempted to flee.
"Extra... Extravaganza! Is this... the true power of the Empress?" Aeacus gasped. He could barely track her movements; all he saw was the wake of her destruction — a silver hair danced in a graceful blur and a flurry of perfect purple cleaves instantly turning the enemies to dust.
"Actually..." Thanatos lifted a pale finger, floating lazily just behind the ferryman. "That is more like an undemanding warm-up."
"My lord, must you jest at a time like this?" Aeacus scowled. But when he glanced back, the god of death wore an unmoving, unyielding expression. He was deadly serious.
Suddenly, a sickening metallic creak erupted from the ceiling just a few steps away from Aeacus. The wind, though thin, gushed out as the hull tore open.
"The hull is breached!" the old man cried, raising his staff. He swung it fiercely at the first ugly head that poked through the opening, exploding it into a splatter of black tar.
The manic giggling of hatred and anger flooded the room as more Furies rushed in from the new breach, their massive claws opened wide.
"Yaaaaah!" Aeacus screamed, swinging his staff wildly. But the Furies were incredibly elusive and quick; they easily dodged his clumsy sweeps.
One tackled the Charon from behind, sending the old man crashing to the deck. He heaved and rolled, wincing at the burning graze across his back just as another sharp claw swiped at his face.
"Magnetos!" the Charon chanted. His golden eyes flared with mana. A humming, spherical force field erupted around him, sending a diving crone smashing violently against the barrier. Their fiery eyes gleamed with the pure ecstasy of the hunt. Where two fell back, another immediately took their place, wrestling and snapping their fangs against the arc shield.
The chamber rapidly plunged into utter chaos. Enemies slithered and squeezed their way through fresh breaches in every direction. Wings fluttered frantically, claws swiped blindly, and lashing tongues snapped against the thin air like fleshy whips.
"Empress!" Aeacus screamed. He lay flat on his back, his staff raised desperately to sustain the barrier. Dozens of Furies piled on top of him, their combined weight threatening to crush the shield. Their seductive, whipping tongues licked obscenely at the spherical barrier. Some snapped their own claws in their frenzy, sending sharp shrapnel, tar-like blood, and putrid drool dripping disgustingly over his protective dome.
In his desperate gaze, he saw Thanatos simply standing to the side, his hands clasped casually behind his back. It suddenly dawned on Aeacus. The god of death would not interfere with his demise.
Aeacus knew he was a goner.
"Empyrion!"
A blinding flash of amber beam shot directly into the pile of Furies, instantly incinerating them into specks of drifting dust. Aeacus gasped for air, scrambling frantically to his feet.
But another surge of Furies was already clawing their way towards him.
Suddenly, a brilliant purple streak of flame darted from his left to his right. He squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for impact.
"Charon." It was Aurora’s voice, perfectly calm amidst the deafening screeching. He opened his eyes to see her standing tall against the angry swarm, her back turned to him. "Are you alright?"
The surviving Furies screamed and growled, but they dared not attack her. They thrashed their wings wildly in a display of weak, fearful threats.
"I’m fine... more or less," Aeacus wheezed. He planted his staff heavily against the deck, leaning his weight upon it to catch his breath. Aurora noted the irony; he didn’t actually need the air. The heavy panting was merely a phantom mortal habit that lingered long after death.
"They have already succeeded in snatching some of your passing souls. I'll have to be more aggressive," Aurora stated coldly. She casually cleaved at a foolish attacker who drifted too close. Its neatly severed corpse dropped to the floor, setting a gruesome example for the rest of the flock.
"Get to the control room and hunker down, now!" she ordered, her voice like cracking stone.
"But—"
"It is not a request!" Aurora bellowed over the unending, thunderous boom of the ship's cannons.
"Understood!" Aeacus turned towards his escape route.
But amidst the chaotic mayhem, a single, piercing scream echoed across the hull of the ship — a sound that shook the old ferryman to his very core.
It was Tachyon’s scream.