Chapter Twenty-One: Will They, Won't They

  Congratulations

  You have died for the first time in Terra Mythica proper. As this is your first death, no penalties have been applied. This one is on the house - but don’t expect any more freebies.

  Respawn Point Has Been Forcibly Changed by Deity

  New Respawn Point: Entrance to the Underworld

  Jace stood before a large, gray office building, its stark facade looming like a monolith against the sky.

  He paused, reflecting. He had just respawned in the game after dying for the first time. This felt different from his experience in Character Creation. Something was off, an unsettling feeling lingering like a half-remembered dream. The memory of his body lying in bed above Teddy’s bar was foggy -fragmented. He felt tired and stiff.

  Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he approached the building. An old, rusting plaque on the door read, “Death and Co. - An Underworld Corporation.”

  “This must be the place,” he muttered.

  He pushed open the door and stepped inside. It was like entering a time warp back to a dreary 1990s office. The walls were a dull beige, the carpet a drab gray, and the faint hum of fluorescent lights added to the oppressive atmosphere.

  As he walked toward the reception desk, a ghostly woman with a beehive hairstyle and cat-eye glasses looked up from her bulbous computer monitor. “Do you have an appointment?” she asked, her voice as flat as her expression. He scanned the maze of cubicles, the air filled with the musty scent of old paper and stale coffee.

  Before Jace could answer, a tall, awkward specter of a man with large teeth and thick glasses stumbled into view. His suit was a size too large, and his tie was slightly askew. “Ah, you must be Jace! I’m Jerald, but friends call me Jerry.”

  From a nearby cubicle, a voice called out, “You don’t have any friends, Jerald!”

  “Oh, Clive, such a joker,” Jerald replied, his smile strained as he turned back to Jace. “I’ll take it from here, Barbara. The boss is expecting him. Let’s get you started, shall we?”

  Barbara rolled her eyes and returned to her typing. Jerald motioned for Jace to follow him. “We kinda have a thing going on, me and Barb. A sort of will they, won’t they office romance. You know how it goes.” He nudged Jace with an elbow and a wink.

  As they navigated the labyrinth of cubicles, Jerald pointed out various desks. “That’s Brenda’s desk over there. We had quite the celebration for her 277th birthday last week. And over there is Karen’s area. Best to avoid that section. She’s, um, particular about her space.”

  Jace nodded, trying to take it all in. The office felt surreal, a strange blend of mundane bureaucracy and otherworldly eeriness.

  Jerald continued his enthusiastic tour, gesturing wildly as they moved through the office lit by flickering fluorescent lights, one bulb dead and casting a long shadow. The ceiling tiles, once white, were now yellowed with age.

  “You know, Hades gets a bad rap,” Jerald said. “People see him as the god of the dead, but his role’s way more complex. He’s the guy keeping the balance between life and death, making sure everything stays in order. Without him - it’d be chaos everywhere, undead nibbling on your little toes at night. It’s pretty fascinating if you think about it.”

  Jace listened intently, curious about anything that could give him insight into the deity and Jace’s potential class. Plus, he had to admit that Jerald’s passion for his work was infectious.

  “The Underworld isn’t just some pit where souls go to rot,” Jerald said, his tone tinted with disdain. “It’s a realm of transition, a place of balance. You think respawning just happens? Guess again. Our department handles that admin. We’re the ones making sure souls find their proper place. It’s not about punishment or reward - it’s about keeping the cosmic scales from tipping over. Without us, everything goes to hell in a handbasket.”

  They passed by a series of cubicles where ghostly employees were busy at work, filing paperwork and processing scrolls. “These folks,” Jerald continued, “are part of that process. Every soul that enters the Underworld is accounted for, their deeds weighed, and their destinies assigned. It’s meticulous work, but it’s crucial.”

  This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

  Jace glanced around, noticing the ghostly figures moving with purpose. “So, it’s like a giant supernatural sorting system?”

  Jerald chuckled. “In a way, yes. But it’s more than administration. It’s a mission. We all work hard to go above and beyond to help Hades do his job. Because, after all, you can’t spell ‘extraordinary’ without that little ‘extra’.”

  Jace tried not to visibly cringe.

  Jerald seemed not to notice or mind. “Hades ensures that life can continue by managing the cycle of death. Without him, the living world would be overrun by the restless undead, and possessed. Every life and every death is part of a greater tapestry, and Hades weaves it all together.”

  Jerald paused by an imposing desk, cluttered with scrolls and papers. “You’ll find this fascinating, I know I do,” he said, unfurling a thick scroll to reveal an intricate map of the Underworld. “Here’s Tartarus,” he continued, pointing to a spot on the map. “That’s where you’ve got your murderers, tyrants, and people that say ‘stay sleazy’ with finger guns.” He shuddered.

  “Over on this side, you have your Elysian Fields, sort of a retirement community for heroes. It’s honestly a hoot down there. Just the other week, at bingo...” He noticed the look on Jace’s face and decided to change course. “Anywho, there’s a whole lot more.” He moved his hand along the map, shifting it to zoom in on different areas.

  “Some souls hang around for eternity, while others take their chances with reincarnation,” Jerald said, smiling broadly. “It’s quite the ecosystem we’ve got going on here.”

  “Do you handle all of the souls on the planet?” Jace asked.

  “Oh no, that would be a disaster,” Jerald replied with a chuckle. “We only handle those who seek our assistance, those who follow the Olympians.”

  “And what about the others?”

  “They have their own pantheons, like followers of Osiris. We simply redirect them to the proper realm through an inter-domain exchange system.”

  “What about people who don’t follow any deity?”

  Jerald’s expression turned somber, and he shrugged. “Those poor souls are left to figure it out for themselves. Most of them do. Some don’t. Not really my department.”

  Jerald closed the scroll, and they continued walking through the rows of cubicles. When they reached the elevator, Jerald pressed the down button with a flourish. “Now, we’re heading to the Underworld Proper.”

  The elevator arrived with a ding, and they stepped inside. The doors closed, and “The Girl from Ipanema” played as they descended, floor after floor. Jerald nodded his head to the rhythm.

  “This place isn’t what I expected,” Jace admitted, partly to distract himself from his thoughts. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt more and more nervous as they descended.

  Jerald beamed. “Oh, it’s wonderful, isn’t it? We like to think of it less like a job, more like a family.”

  Jace winced at the sentiment but kept quiet.

  After a very long while, the elevator doors opened, revealing a vast, dark cavern. “Here we are! Your final destination, as it were.” Jerald paused with a suppressed grin. “Oh, just a little bit of Underworld humor. Right then, off you pop.”

  The atmosphere pressed down with the scent of damp earth, accompanied by the faint sound of running water in the distance. Jerald led Jace through a series of passages that opened onto the shore of a river, where a hooded figure waited silently at the prow of a long, black boat.

  Jerald handed Jace a coin. It was gold with smooth, angular edges, and it bore the face of an old man with deep, sunken eyes. “You’ll need that as payment to cross. Just hand it to the ferryman. Don’t drop it now; the last person who lost their travel coin waited a very long time in here.”

  Jace nodded, clutching the coin tightly as he stepped into the boat. The ferryman held out his hand, and Jace placed the coin in his palm. Silent and foreboding, the ferryman began to row them across the dark, still waters.

  “How do I get back out of here?” Jace called as the boat drifted away.

  “Sorry, can’t hear you. Also, I wouldn’t be too loud in here. There are sleeping things here that even I don’t know about.” Jerald shrugged off a brief shiver and waved before turning and heading back to the elevator. Jace could swear he was dancing a little as he walked.

  The waters were black, and every once in a while, a glowing mist swirled through them. He could hear whispers of screams in the distance, or maybe it was just the wind. Jagged rocks loomed overhead, casting long shadows, and occasional growls echoed through the darkness. Every so often, a hand would claw up from the water, and the ferryman would strike it back with his oar with practiced ease.

  “So, how are the benefits here? Must be pretty good, right?” The stifling silence made Jace nervous, prompting him to speak quietly to fill the void. “I knew a truck driver once. He said it was decent when he had the work. Long hours, but at least it’s peaceful.”

  The ferryman remained mute, his face hidden in the shadows. “The quiet type, huh? I get that. I’m known as the strong and silent type myself.”

  He paused for a moment. “You know, I never got your name. Can’t keep calling you Ferryman forever. Mine’s Jace.” He reached out a hand, but the darkness under the hood stared back at him. Jace could only imagine a blank expression hidden there. Awkwardly, he pulled his hand back. “I think I’ll call you Joe.”

  Nothing of note occurred during the rest of the ride, except for a prompt announcing a new skill gained.

  Skill Gained

  Darkvision - Rank 1

  You’ve been squinting a lot. Here, have a skill.

  You now can squint a little less when trying to see things in the dark.

  After what felt like an eternity, they reached a small, decrepit dock. “Thanks for the lift, Joe,” Jace said, as the ferryman expertly guided the boat alongside the dock and silently gestured for him to disembark.

  Jace stepped cautiously onto the wooden planks that creaked ominously under his weight. The ferryman remained silent, watching as Jace made his way onto solid ground. Jace looked back to find the ferry had already set off again, quickly disappearing into the darkness. He hummed and murmured to himself in the dark, “…hmm hmm hmm hmm, the girl from Ipanema hmm-hmm-hmm-hmm.”

  “Damn it, I’m going to have that stuck in my head all day.”