Chapter One Hundred Twelve: The Cost of Becoming

  Hades stepped forward, his towering shadow blanketing Jace’s collapsed form. The god’s voice was a steady rumble, heavier now, more tangible. “As my followers grow, so too will your power. A fragment of what they give will feed your abilities. And as your own capabilities expand—your capacity to wield this energy—I will grant you more. But make no mistake, Jace. It must be earned. Prove yourself worthy of it.”

  Jace blinked, his vision swimming, just as the interface flared in his mind, its cold, sterile pings cutting through the haze like distant bells.

  He felt the changes surging through him, raw and unrelenting. The power coursed through his veins, igniting every nerve, every cell, until it felt like his very essence was being rewritten. The shift was undeniable, a fundamental reordering of what he was and what he could be.

  His senses sharpened, the world around him snapping into vivid, almost overwhelming clarity. He could hear the faint hum of energy in the air, feel the subtle vibrations in the ground beneath him, as if the earth itself was alive and speaking. His muscles coiled with newfound strength, power humming beneath his skin, ready to explode at a thought.

  His mind was faster, sharper, as if a veil had been lifted. Ideas, connections, realizations—they all came in a rush, like floodgates thrown wide open. He wasn’t just stronger—he was more.

  It was as if the pathways of his aether had been pushed open and realigned, energy flowing in directions it had never before.

  A series of system notifications flashed before his eyes.

  System Notification:

  Soul Step has been forcibly evolved by Hades.

  Soul Step has merged with Soul Walk to form a new ability.

  All merged abilities will be removed from your abilities list.

  New Ability: Shift

  Soul Sense has been forcibly evolved by Hades.

  The evolution has been altered by the Word of Power: Truth.

  Soul Sense has absorbed the following abilities:

  Universal Lore

  Soul Detection

  Knowledge Absorption

  These enhancements have resulted in the creation of a new ability: Truthsense.

  Soul Bind has been forcibly evolved by Hades.

  Soul Bind has merged with:

  Soul Tether

  Aetheric Absorption

  Soul Severance

  The resulting new ability is: Chains of Oblivion.

  Shadow Cloak has been forcibly evolved by Hades.

  Shadow Cloak has absorbed the effects of:

  Iron Stomach

  Resistance to Death

  Mostly Dead

  No Pain, No Gain

  Soul Mend

  The evolution has resulted in a new ability: Etheric Shroud.

  Additional abilities gained:

  Veil of the Underworld

  Rebirth Anchor

  Shadespeak

  Looks like someone just got a serious upgrade, amigo. Hades must really like you. And hey, you didn’t even puke or respawn from the strain! — Jack

  Hades watched Jace with an unreadable intensity, his gaze tinged with something that might have been concern—or perhaps expectation. Jace returned the look, feeling the faintest sway of dizziness but was otherwise steady. He flexed his fingers, trying to focus through the lingering haze in his mind. He felt fine enough, but unease crept in at the edges, gnawing at him. His abilities had been reshaped, some erased entirely. What had he lost? What had been consumed in the process?

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  The thought barely took root before his stomach turned violently. Without warning, Jace doubled over and vomited with all the force of someone expelling more than just a bad meal. His body seemed to rebel against him, and he barely registered Hades stepping back with a flicker of distaste.

  A few minutes later, the mess was gone, whisked away by ethereal spirits who worked with a brisk efficiency that left Jace clean but humiliated. He sat back, his breathe steadying, the faint hum of residual energy crawling under his skin.

  The interface hovered before him, its sharp glow throwing his reflection into faint relief. Jace stared at the words, but they blurred in and out of focus, eclipsed by the sheer magnitude of what had just happened. Jack’s note at the bottom caught his eye, its irreverent tone almost comforting in its familiarity.

  His gaze flicked back to Hades, who remained motionless, observing him with an expression that was hard to place. The god’s features were carved with an almost sculptural precision, and yet his eyes seemed to carry an emotion just shy of kindness—though not quite unkind. It was the look of someone waiting for something to happen.

  Jace’s attention drifted back to the interface, the words sharpening as he forced himself to focus. The list of abilities loomed before him, new names etched in with eerie finality. For now, though, he dismissed it, deciding to delve into the details later, when he could process it alone.

  “Now, if you’ll excuse me, you’ve got new powers to master, and I have matters that require my attention.” With a deliberate sweep of his cloak, he turned, his shadow curling behind him like a living entity slipping back into the dark.

  Persephone watched in silence, her expression unreadable, a statue carved from something more timeless than stone.

  Just before disappearing from sight, Hades called back over his shoulder. “Oh, and don’t muff it up, kid. All eyes are on you.”

  There was something in his expression—something that made Jace think a single word: goodbye.

  And then he was gone.

  Jace pushed himself to his feet, legs trembling under the burden of divinity, his breath still coming in ragged gasps. The ache in his muscles wasn’t just exhaustion—it was the strain of holding something far greater than he was meant to.

  The journey back to the dock felt longer and when he arrived, the dock was empty—no boat in sight.

  “Figures,” Jace muttered under his breath. He looked out over the still, black water stretching infinitely into the unknown.

  A sudden glow lit the corner of his vision. A small, vibrant green ball of light darted toward him, zipping in erratic circles before hovering a few feet away.

  “Pik,” Jace said softly, feeling a surge of unexpected joy. “Been a while. How in Terra Mythica are you?”

  Pik buzzed, the sound somewhere between an over-wound violin string and a laugh too eager to hold back. It bobbed up and down, radiating energy that practically screamed hello.

  Jace tilted his head, studying the little creature. “You know what’s odd… I think I knew you,” he said it softly, a trace of awe in each word. “Back when I was a baby, right?”

  The light flared briefly, bouncing in a way that felt suspiciously like a nod.

  Jace exhaled, dragging a hand through his hair. “How do I know? No, no one told me. It’s just—my Truth Affinity—it’s like I get flashes, pieces of stuff I shouldn’t know. Memories I shouldn’t have. It’s like trying to watch a puzzle assemble itself while someone keeps flipping the pieces upside down.”

  Pik buzzed again, this time with a deeper vibration, and for a moment, Jace felt it—a rush of images, sensations, and emotions flooding his mind, like someone whispering a story directly into his thoughts. It wasn’t words, exactly, but it was clear. The concept that came back was friend and something about an offer to help.

  His brow furrowed, and he leaned closer. “Hold on… Did I just understand you?”

  The buzzing shifted, sharper now, almost like laughter. Jace’s lips twitched into a half-smile, a mix of disbelief and amusement.

  “Well, that’s new. You’ve been holding out on me, haven’t you, Pik? Or is it my new abilities?”

  Pik’s glow pulsed in a way that was undeniably cheeky. Jace chuckled, shaking his head, the warmth of ease settling over him.

  But, the moment didn’t last.

  A subtle movement tugged at the corner of his vision, a shadow stirring where no shadow should be. His amusement drained away, replaced by instinct as his hand snapped to his sword. The blade whispered free, its edge gleaming in the faint light.

  For a heartbeat, it felt like control. A burst of light spread through the hilt, and then—just like that—control was gone. Flowers sprouted along the blade’s edge, delicate blossoms of pink and white climbing the steel like ivy, soft and completely useless.

  Jace blinked at the floral betrayal, then at Pik, whose glow had dimmed to something suspiciously akin to embarrassment. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered, the shadow creeping closer.

  Laughter rang out, soft and musical. “Grayson,” Persephone said, stepping from the shadows, her golden hair catching the faint light like a halo.

  Jace sighed, lowering the flower-covered sword. “Perseph,” he replied with a tilt of his head. “Nice trick.”

  Her lips quirked in amusement. “Perseph?” she repeated, her tone curious.

  “What?” Jace shrugged, the picture of nonchalance. “You gods get to call me whatever you want—Jason, Grayson, yadda yadda. So, fair’s fair. I get to hand out nicknames too. Now, what’s the deal? Here to try and sucker me into another quest? Because spoiler alert—I’m not so easy to manipulate these days.”

  She arched a brow, her expression teetering between amusement and mild annoyance, but ultimately let it slide. “No tricks, no manipulation,” she replied, smooth and lilting, but with an edge sharp enough to draw blood. “I came to offer advice. Take it or don’t—that part is up to you.”

  “Oh?” Jace crossed his arms, his wariness plain. “And what’s the catch?”

  “No catch.” Her gaze softened, though it still held its unyielding edge. “In what’s to come, remember your friends. They will be your greatest strength.”

  Her voice dropped, quieter now, but carrying a gravity that seemed to settle into the marrow of his bones. “Sometimes, the darkness is not your enemy but your ally. And remember, Grayson, that the largest tree grows from the smallest seed.”

  She raised her hand, and a small pinprick of light appeared between her fingers. It hovered there, glowing faintly, before she released it. The light drifted downward, touching the ground and sprouting into a tiny tree, its branches glowing with a radiant warmth that filled the space for a fleeting moment. Then it vanished, the light fading into nothingness.

  As did Persephone.

  “Great,” Jace muttered, throwing his hands in the air. “Just once—once—I’d like to have a chat with a god and skip the whole riddle routine. Is that too much to ask?” He shook his head, frustration simmering beneath his breath.

  He stared at the spot where Persephone had stood moments ago, now empty as if she’d never been there.

  From the shadows at the water’s edge, Bob emerged with his rickety old boat, the skeletal ferryman framed against the dim, eerie glow of the underworld.

  Of course.

  Jace let out a long sigh and climbed into the boat, casting a side-eye at Bob. “Oh, don’t even start, Bob. I know you were out there in the dark, biding your time, stalling me for Persephone.”

  Bob didn’t speak.

  Jace groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Yeah, thought so. And here I was, thinking we were bros, Bob. Bros don’t leave bros hanging like that.”

  Bob’s shoulders twitched, a motion so slight it could almost be mistaken for a shrug.

  By the time Jace reached his quarters in the Fields Below, the faint pink dust from the flowers had disappeared, leaving no trace.

  Jace could still feel it, lingering beneath his skin—the power, the gift—a reminder of what had changed and the brittle humanity he fought to hold onto. A gift in preparation for whatever was coming tomorrow.

  Tomorrow. The word was neither promise nor threat, just a certainty.

  Tomorrow, everything would change.