| Threshold of Duat - ???
Joseph sat before a flickering green fire deep within a turquoise forest.
A massive serpent, now neatly butchered, crackled over the flames—skewered and slowly roasting. The scent of charred meat and spice drifted through the still air.
The creatures here had learned.
At first, many of them had shown a crude, animal-like curiosity. But after a week—at least, Joseph thought it had been a week—of being hunted like livestock, they no longer wandered into his territory.
Time was… unreliable here.
Ever since the solar barque had departed, the sky had remained a constant, oppressive shade of dark purple. No sunrise. No sunset. Just an endless twilight.
Joseph adjusted one of the skewers, inspecting his work.
He'd even found spices.
This warped reflection of the Nile Valley was strangely abundant with plant life, even if its fauna leaned toward nightmare fuel. Absorbing essence filled him—but it didn't taste like anything.
Eating, on the other hand…
He picked up a skewer and examined it.
Garlic. Cumin. And—
"Coriander," he muttered, exhaling softly. "Everything reminds me of her… I miss her."
He took a bite.
Not bad.
Tasted like chicken.
Then again, so had the crocodile thing he'd eaten yesterday.
He leaned back, thinking.
Hippo hybrids were still the best—rich, somewhere between beef and pork. Lion variants were easily the worst—like veal with a faintly acidic, almost ammonia-like aftertaste.
Yeah.
He'd been eating creatures that looked suspiciously like Ammit.
They attacked him first.
That made it fair.
There were other animals too—birds, dogs, cats—but he couldn't bring himself to eat the last two. Some lines, even now, he wasn't willing to cross.
All things considered, life here wasn't terrible.
He slept. He hunted. He explored.
No responsibilities. No world-ending threats. No one depending on him.
Just…
Silence.
Joseph stared into the fire.
"The only problem," he muttered, "is I'm incredibly lonely… and it hasn't even been a month."
He sighed, dragging a hand down his face.
"Good thing Nova can fix my mental when I get back. Don't need to come out of this with PTSD and a habit of talking to myself."
A pause.
"…Damn. I'm really lonely."
So he did the only reasonable thing.
He started singing.
"Lonely… I'm Mr. Lonely… I have nobody—"
"SHUT UP!" a distant, shrieking voice howled. "I'LL KILL YOU! No—I'LL KILL MYSELF! No—you should kill me! Please—just kill me!"
Joseph blinked.
"Tch. Not everyone can appreciate true art."
He stood, stretching lazily.
"Fine. I'll do you a favor."
And with that, he walked toward the voice.
**
It had been another two weeks.
Or something like that.
Joseph had long since given up trying to track time in a place where the sky never changed.
Now, he sat cross-legged in the sand, bored out of his mind.
So he decided to experiment.
Magic.
He didn't have access to the Dream Archive, but he still retained fragments—centuries of knowledge from minds like Vandal Savage and Wotan. Enough to work with.
Magic. Sorcery. Magicism.
Different names for the same fundamental truth.
Magic was a substance.
Sorcery was the manipulation of that substance.
And the line between magic and sufficiently advanced technology? Practically nonexistent. Mother Boxes. Father Boxes. The Source itself—all of it blurred the boundary.
Magic required energy.
Usually internal.
Usually costly.
But Joseph wasn't worried about that.
He'd devoured the essence of hundreds of beings by now.
Fuel wasn't the issue.
The problem was access.
Normally, he'd channel the Nova Force through his Nth Bands—bridging science and sorcery effortlessly.
But here?
No Bands.
No Nova Force.
No shortcuts.
Which left rituals.
And invoking deities.
Both… bad ideas, given his current location.
Then he remembered something.
The cosmic forces.
They weren't just energy.
They had properties.
Mystical ones.
He'd already used Wotan's lightning magic to forge a connection to the Speed Force once.
And the formula—
3x2(9YZ)4A=?
—wasn't just math.
It was an incantation.
A spell disguised as an equation.
He tried it again.
Nothing.
Joseph sighed.
"Of course. Still holding a grudge."
The Speed Force clearly wasn't interested.
Which left—
"The Strength Force."
Now that one liked him.
Joseph stood and got to work.
He carved out a pit—large as a swimming pool—using raw gravitational force. Then he etched runes into the surrounding earth, drawing from memory and instinct.
Blood came next.
Not his own—mostly.
The pit filled.
He wrapped it all in Strength Force energy, compressing, shaping, forcing it into alignment with his will.
Then he focused.
Intent.
Outcome.
Creation.
For a moment—
Nothing.
Then—
Light.
A glowing white sphere, the size of a beach ball, formed above the pit. It pulsed softly, radiating something deeper than energy.
His life force.
Manifest.
Joseph grinned.
"I love you, Strength Force. Wait—actually, I have a girlfriend. Sorry. Not meant to be."
He paused.
"…But we can still be friends. Best friends, Strengthy."
He plunged his hand into the sphere.
Something resisted.
Then yielded.
His fingers closed around… something.
Joseph pulled.
Energy surged as a blade emerged from the light, the remaining essence collapsing inward and fusing into its form.
A sword.
Simple. Elegant. Lethal.
Joseph turned it in his hand, feeling its weight—its meaning.
"I'll call you the Soulsword," he said, smirking. "No Nova around to criticize my naming skills."
The moment he held it, he understood.
This wasn't just a weapon.
It was an extension of him.
Forged from his soul, bound to his essence.
There was no spell it couldn't cut.
No enchantment it couldn't disrupt.
Here, in this astral state, his soul was his body—and this blade was tied directly to it.
He could summon it.
Dismiss it.
Wield it as easily as breathing.
There was a cost, of course.
After the ritual, his reserves had dropped—back down to something closer to a normal human's level.
But it was worth it.
Joseph stood, resting the blade against his shoulder.
A slow grin spread across his face.
"Alright," he said.
"Let's go hunting, Soulsword."
**
"It's definitely been over two months since I've been here," Joseph muttered, seated in front of a crackling fire.
He was eating meat.
Again.
He sighed—a habit that had become far too frequent lately. "Maybe I should try farming."
Joseph glanced up at the sky, still that same endless, oppressive shade of dark purple.
He'd already explored as far as he could. At the edge of the threshold stood sky-high iron walls, and beyond the Nile, there was… nothing. Or rather, something he couldn't reach. Every attempt ended the same way—an unseen barrier stopping him cold.
He hadn't tried breaking it.
He didn't want to know what would happen if he did.
And he'd stopped hunting recklessly, too.
More than once, he'd felt the ground tremble—heard distant, thunderous roars ripple through the Duat. The clash between Ra and Apep beyond the river wasn't subtle.
If either of them noticed him, things could go very, very wrong.
Especially with the Speed Force still refusing to cooperate.
So Joseph stayed in his corner of the forest.
He'd built himself a cabin—small, but sturdy and comfortable. The Soulsword made quick work of wood, splitting and shaping it with ease. The result was surprisingly refined: solid furniture, clean structure, almost… peaceful.
For a while, it had even felt like home.
A rustling sound broke the quiet.
Joseph didn't look up immediately.
Based on the weight and rhythm of the footsteps, it was probably another one of those crocodile-lion-hippo hybrids.
Most creatures avoided him now. He'd long since established himself as the apex predator of this forest.
But the hybrids?
They still hadn't learned.
Joseph took another bite, unfazed, as the creature entered the clearing.
Then he paused.
"…Huh."
This one was different.
Larger—much larger. About the size of an SUV.
And female.
Joseph could tell now, easily. Narrower crocodile skull. Subtle differences in build. After months of hunting, details like that stood out.
But that wasn't what made her stand out.
She had a lion's mane.
And atop her head rested a tri-colored nemes—striped cloth worn by pharaohs, a symbol of royalty.
Joseph slowly set his food down.
"…Well," he muttered. "That's new."
This wasn't just another hybrid.
This was Ammit—the Devourer. Eater of the Dead. The one who consumed the hearts of the unworthy in the Hall of Two Truths, erasing them from existence entirely.
A being tied directly to judgment itself.
Joseph froze.
Ammit froze.
Then her gaze shifted—past him.
To the fire.
To the spit.
To the very clearly roasted remains of something that looked a lot like her species.
Joseph followed her line of sight.
…Yeah.
No point denying it.
He scratched the back of his head awkwardly.
"Uh… you want some?"
She charged.
Fast.
Way faster than the others.
Joseph reacted instantly, summoning the Soulsword. It shimmered into existence in his hand, glowing faintly blue. Though simple in origin, the blade had begun evolving—its surface forming intricate patterns the more he used it.
But as Ammit closed the distance—
He hesitated.
Killing her would be… unwise.
She served Ma'at. Osiris. Worked alongside Anubis (who weighs the heart) and Thoth (who records the verdict). The last thing Joseph needed was to make enemies of the Egyptian old gods.
So he dismissed the sword.
Instead, he reinforced his body with the Strength Force just as Ammit lunged.
Her massive jaws snapped open, aiming to swallow him whole—
Joseph caught her.
Both hands braced against her upper and lower jaws, holding them apart.
She was strong.
Shockingly so.
But not strong enough.
Not with the Strength Force.
Then he felt it—
His essence.
She was devouring it.
Joseph smirked.
"Two can play that game."
Ammit's soul was vast—fed by millennia of devouring the unworthy. A reservoir of power.
Joseph pulled from it.
Harder.
Twice as much as she was taking from him.
Her advantage vanished instantly.
Realizing the stalemate, Ammit shifted tactics—her lion forelimbs lashed out, claws tearing through the air as she tried to rip him apart.
Joseph dodged what he could.
Tank the rest.
Reinforce. Adjust. Counter.
Then, with a sudden burst of force, he twisted—using her own momentum against her—and hurled her across the clearing.
She slammed into a tree with a thunderous crack, splintering it in half.
But she got back up.
Of course she did.
With a snarl, she charged again—
Joseph caught her mid-lunge and flung her once more, sending her crashing behind his cabin.
"I can do this all day," he said flatly.
Ammit roared—
—and came barreling straight through his cabin, obliterating it in a spray of wood and debris.
Joseph stared at the wreckage.
Silence.
Then he slowly turned back to her.
"…Okay," he said, rolling his shoulders.
"Now you're asking for it."