Thanatos did not answer immediately. She continued descending through the narrow passage, keeping the incomplete scythe resting over her shoulder while the sounds beneath the platform became progressively clearer. Strax realized they were not simply voices. There was intention in them. Some cried, others murmured promises, and some repeated names with uncomfortable precision, as though every sound had been chosen to reach a specific person.
The deeper they went, the less Tartarus resembled an organized realm. The walls disappeared, then the platforms stopped having clearly defined edges, and even the idea of distance began to feel unstable. Strax could see a structure only a few meters away and, in the next instant, feel that it was kilometers below. It was like walking through a place where space and death had been mixed together until they no longer had any obligation to follow ordinary rules.
"Why can't I touch anything that says my name?" Strax asked.
