Chapter 66 — The Theater of False Gods
From now on… I'm the one telling the story.
Not because I want to.
But because at this point, if someone has to explain what's really happening… it has to be someone who has seen everything from the inside—even if I wasn't there that day.
And that someone… is me.
Seth. From now on, I will be the narrator of my own story.
I know it might sound abstract when said like that, but no… it wasn't a vague sensation. It was concrete. There was no flow of time. No "before" or "after." Even the present felt strange. Unstable. As if each moment existed alone, without any connection to the next. And yet… nothing felt frozen. That was the disturbing part. Everything seemed active, but nothing truly moved.
As if something was making this place spin without using time… but anyway, I'm just the narrator here.
And in the middle of it all…
Loki appeared.
I didn't see a portal. No crack. No distortion of space. Nothing. One moment he wasn't there… and the next, he was already present. As if he had simply been "placed" there, without transition—he had just crossed the final door.
His body reacted as if he had just landed. His feet touched the ground, his knees slightly bent…
He crouched down calmly. Not in a fighting stance, not guarding himself. Just… like someone taking a second to analyze. He stayed still for a few moments, fingers lightly near the ground, without really touching it. As if he was testing something.
Then he stopped.
— "Still the same…"
His voice was normal.
Strangely calm.
But it vanished almost instantly.
And at that moment, I understood something simple: here, even basic things like sound don't follow rules.
The silence that followed wasn't neutral.
It felt like anticipation.
Then—
Light appeared.
Suddenly.
Not like something being turned on. Not like something arriving. It was already there… it just decided to become visible now.
And with it—
— "LOKI!!!"
The voice exploded throughout the entire space.
Not directional.
Impossible to locate.
It came from everywhere.
And Loki… didn't even react.
He just raised his eyes.
— "…Dominus."
The pink light contracted, then took form. Slowly, a silhouette appeared. A woman. Elegant, extremely attractive, perfect. Too perfect.
Every detail on her body was flawless.
Every movement precise.
But that was exactly the problem.
Nothing stood out.
Nothing felt natural. Such perfect beauty probably hid something.
— "You're late."
Her tone was light. Almost amused. Like she was talking about a simple appointment.
Loki shrugged slightly, as if none of it mattered.
— "I took my time."
His voice was calm, almost detached. No provocation. Just a statement.
Dominus crossed her arms, tilting her head slightly, a faint smile on her lips.
— "As always… you always had that talent for showing up when everything is already in place."
She stepped closer without hesitation, her eyes scanning him as if analyzing every detail. It wasn't hostile… but it wasn't kind either. Something else. A cold kind of interest.
— "I was wondering if you'd come," she continued softly. "With everything going on… I thought maybe you'd stay in your corner, like usual."
Loki looked away slightly, not really meeting her eyes.
— "If I'm here, it's because I decided to come."
— "Or because you had nothing better to do? My bunny."
Silence.
Not long.
But enough to feel that the question wasn't entirely a joke.
Loki exhaled lightly through his nose.
— "Both."
Dominus let out a small laugh, this time almost sincere.
— "At least you're honest…"
She turned away for a moment, looking around at the thousands of floating doors.
— "Seriously… haven't you noticed anything?"
Loki followed her gaze.
I saw him observe.
Not for long.
Just enough to confirm what he already thought.
— "No."
A pause.
Then, without changing tone:
— "It's still as shitty as ever."
This time, she smiled fully.
But she didn't get to respond.
Because another voice cut into the space.
— "Did you bring anything?"
The tone was slow. Heavy. Almost viscous.
And even I, just the narrator, felt immediate discomfort.
Loki closed his eyes for a second.
Like someone who already knew what was coming.
— "Bam…"
A silhouette emerged from the shadows without sound.
An old man. Or at least… something that looked like one.
His posture was hunched, his steps slow, but that wasn't what was disturbing. It was his face. That smile—way too wide, way too fixed, as if his muscles had forgotten how to do anything else. And his eyes… his eyes weren't normal. No emotion inside them. Just constant hunger. Almost tangible.
He stopped a few steps away.
— "I was hungry," he said simply.
As if that explained everything.
Loki sighed.
— "You're always hungry… old man."
Bam shrugged slowly.
— "So? Is that a problem, my little Lili? Oops—Lucy… damn it, I forgot your name again. You grow so fast."
He tilted his head slightly, staring at Loki with unsettling intensity.
— "Don't you have something for me?"
— "No."
— "What a shame…"
His smile grew even wider, if that was even possible.
And at that exact moment, Loki felt something else.
A presence less disturbing than Bam's… but far too large to ignore.
Right behind Loki.
A hand landed on his shoulder.
Not heavy.
— "Always last… and always the weakest."
Loki didn't move. Not even a muscle.
— "Baku…"
A young man appeared behind him, a stretched smile on his face, eyes glowing with suffocating energy. Orange hair. A dangerous aura.
— "You look terrible, you know that? And your skin is as white as shit. You should think about tanning more, Loki…"
— "And you still look as useless as ever…"
Awkward silence.
Then Baku burst out laughing.
A loud, genuine laugh.
But not a healthy one.
— "Ah… that's good."
He removed his hand, slowly circling Loki.
— "At least you haven't changed."
— "Neither have you."
The tone was flat.
But clear.
And then…
something changed again.
A memory…
I'll be honest.
That moment… I felt it before I understood it.
There are fights where you see two powers clash. And then there are those where you instantly understand it isn't a fight. It's a test. A verification. An attempt to see if something still deserves to exist.
That was exactly what it was between Ivar and Suo.
When Ivar stopped in front of him, there was no sound anymore. Even the Pandemonium seemed to step back. The doors still floated, symbols still changed every second… but all of it became secondary. The universe itself focused on one point.
Ivar didn't speak.
He observed.
And Suo… didn't react.
He was there, bound at the center of that impossible structure, but the word "bound" had almost lost its meaning. These weren't chains. Not a prison. Something else. It felt like his presence was "anchored" there—not physically restrained, but conceptually, by something strange.
Ivar finally spoke, slowly.
— "You're still alive… you surprise me, Abyss Hunter."
His voice was calm. Too calm.
— "After everything we did to you… you survived. I'm starting to think you're immortal… yet only we, the incarnated ones, can truly be called that."
He stepped forward.
Then another step.
His eyes never left Suo.
— "I should be impressed."
Silence.
Then colder:
— "Or disgusted…"
Suo didn't respond immediately. He slightly raised his head, as if coming out of a deep state. His eyes were tired… but not empty. That was the worst part. He looked like someone who had already lost something long ago, but still stood anyway.
— "Ivar… that's your name, right?"
His voice was weak.
But stable.
— "Hm? I thought I cut out your tongue. How are you speaking?"
Ivar frowned slightly.
Not anger.
Just interest.
— "Explain how you're doing this."
Suo smiled slightly.
Not a real smile.
Something sadder.
— "You still see things like they're breakable… and you're extremely strong… but I can say for certain you're far from powerful enough to beat us."
Silence.
— "And that… you can't change that."
Ivar tilted his head.
— "And you think you're one of them?"
Suo didn't answer directly.
He inhaled lightly.
Then:
— "Do you want to know where the heart of Britannia is?"
Ivar didn't move.
— "Yes."
A pause.
Then Suo simply said:
— "Look in your asshole."
Silence.
But a different kind of silence this time.
Heavier. Tense.
Ivar narrowed his eyes slightly.
— "..."
— "So you're not going to try?"
Immediate response.
Simple.
Calm.
— "Suo… you know I'm starting to like you. It's a shame you have to die."
Ivar stepped forward again.
The air grew heavier.
I could feel it even from afar.
— "The heart of Britannia is a source."
— "An origin."
— "Something I can destroy if necessary."
He stopped.
— "Tell me where it is. I will ask you one last time."
Suo looked at him for a long moment.
Then quietly:
— "Go fuck yourself."
Ivar didn't move immediately.
But something in his expression changed.
To be continued…