Hermes rubbed his temples. "Alright. We know Eirwyn is down there. But… how do we even reach the Core? And if it's really nothing, how could he even exist there?"
Magni folded his arms, pacing with a swagger. "Ah, Brother Modi, that is the trick of it. He does not dwell in the mouth of the black hole itself. No, a quarry waits at its edge. The precipice. A horizon separating existence and non-existence."
Hermes frowned. "A horizon?"
"Yes." Magni's grin turned sharp. "In your mortal tongue, it would be Limbo. Neither alive, nor dead. Neither here, nor gone."
He spread his arms wide. "It is a wasteland where nothing can be born… yet nothing could truly die either."
Ymir shifted uneasily. "That sounds… cursed."
"It is." Magni said brightly. "A graveyard of the gods' enemies. A forest of corpses. The banished roam there, stripped of names, stripped of selves. Undead husks who know not that a world above ever existed."
Hermes stiffened. "You mean the monsters killed by the gods?"
