The cavern breathed.
That was the first thing Eros noticed. Not the wet chill clinging to his skin, not the sluggish flow of a black river whispering beside him, not even the faint shimmer of ghostly motes drifting like fireflies in tar. It was the sound—the slow, steady rise and fall, like lungs pulling air through stone.
He pushed himself up, coughing. Every part of him hurt, though his body looked whole. His chest was bare, smooth, no scars left from the venom that had eaten him alive. Only a faint glow hovered at his sternum: a flickering ember, pale and weak. He stared at it, numb, until a voice drew him back.
"Hello, Eros. Welcome to the Underworld."
The voice was warm. Too warm. Like honey dripped over broken glass.
Eros twisted. A handsome man sat upon a boulder at the river's edge, framed by the stalactites drooping above him like a crown of daggers. He was perhaps in his twenties, at least 5 or 6 years older than Eros. His hair was dark and tied back with a strip of cloth, his smile relaxed as if this place were an inn instead of a tomb. In one hand he turned a red apple, biting into it with sharp white teeth.
Eros's throat tightened. "Underworld? Does that mean… I'm dead?"
The man chuckled, brushing juice from his chin with the back of his thumb. "I'm afraid so. Look down at your chest, boy. There. Do you see the phantom flame?"
Eros glanced again at the ember faintly burning over his sternum. His gut knotted.
"That," the stranger continued, "is what's left of your soul. If it gutters out entirely, you'll vanish. Not death, no, worse. Erasure. But don't fret. For now, we still have time."
«So that's it. Every step forward is just another inch closer to nothing. Even here, in this pit, the book finds a way to keep the knife at my throat.»
Eros swallowed against the lump in his throat. "Who are you? And how do you know my name?"
"Easy, easy." The man lifted both hands as if calming a child. His grin widened. "I'm a friend. Don't worry, I don't bite. Well, almost never. And I know your name because I can see through your soul, my dear boy. Names cling to the flame like smoke. Hard to miss."
A chill rolled over Eros's skin. He took an involuntary step back. "Are you… a god?"
The stranger's laughter filled the cavern, sharp and echoing. "A god? Oh, please, spare me! I'm no god." His eyes gleamed. "I'm human."
That single word made Eros falter. His lips parted. "…Human?"
"Yes, yes." The man leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, the apple forgotten in his hand. "But not quite the kind you're used to. I'm a Reader. Just like you."
The word sank deep. Eros's pulse spiked. "You're serious? You come from… my world?"
"In the flesh." The man snapped his fingers. A book appeared in his hand, familiar yet alien: leather-bound, its cover pulsing faintly as though veins ran beneath it. He flipped it open casually and let the pages fan. "See? My Reader's Notes. Proof enough, hm?"
Eros's chest loosened with something close to relief. His breath escaped in a shaky laugh. "Thank God… I thought I was alone in this nightmare."
"Oh, don't thank God." The man winked. "He's not the one keeping you company."
For a moment silence settled. The river lapped at the stone bank. Then the man's grin returned, sharper than before. "Tell me, what music groups are popular these days?"
Eros blinked. "…What?"
"Music." The man gestured loosely with the apple. "Bands, idols, whatever the kids scream for these days."
Embarrassment pinched at Eros's stomach. "I… I don't really know. I don't get out much."
«What kind of question is that? Here we are, standing in the dark with death still dripping off me, and he wants to talk about bands?»
"Really?"
"I was in a juvenile detention center," he muttered, bitterness curling the words. "Well. Until I escaped."
The stranger tilted his head, amusement flickering. "Ah, a tough one. No wonder you've lasted this long."
«Or maybe just stubborn enough not to stay down when the world beats me. Amanda used to say that made me someone impossible to live with. Stubborn as hell.. Guess she wasn't wrong.»
Eros frowned. "How long have you been here?"
The grin faltered for the first time. His eyes went distant. "…Too long. Far, far too long." Then, with a flick of his hand, he dismissed the question. "But let's not dwell on me. Tell me, how has it been for you… up there?"
The words cracked something inside him. Eros let out a shuddering breath. "You don't know. You can't know how terrible it's been. The book swallowed me whole. Every moment here is horror. I thought I'd lose my mind."
The man's expression softened, almost sympathetic. "Yes. I know." His tone dipped, shadow creeping in. "Unfortunately, I know very well."
«Do you? Or are you just saying that because it sounds right? Everyone pretends they understand, until you're the one bleeding.»
Eros's voice rose, ragged. "It's horrible. Every death, every time I come back—it's pain without end."
The man's eyes widened, intrigued. "Wait. Death? Resurrections? Did you say… you've died?"
Eros froze. "You… haven't?"
"Not to my knowledge." The stranger scratched his jaw, feigning thought. "At least, I certainly hope not."
"You don't have flames?"
"Flames?" His brow lifted. "I'm afraid I haven't the faintest idea what you mean. Perhaps that's your particular gift."
Eros grit his teeth, then lifted his hand. His own diary shimmered into existence. "Look. This is what I mean."
The man peered at it, then shook his head. "All I see are blank pages."
"What?"
"That's how Diaries work. You see your own story, no one else's. Wait… don't tell me you don't know that?" His grin spread again, wolfish. "You're an unbound. A stray Reader."
"A what?"
"An 'Unbound.' One without a faction." His laughter rang loud in the cavern. "Oh, my. Truly? You're just a stray boy thrown into the flames? I thought the government had burned every last book. To think you survived this long without guidance… congratulations."
«Unbound. Another cage, another label. They all sound the same to me. Locked up in one world, thrown to the wolves in another.»
Eros's stomach twisted. Confusion piled high in his chest. "I don't understand…"
"Don't worry. All in good time." The stranger leaned back against the boulder, crossing his legs. "For now, tell me—how did you die?"
Eros hesitated, then muttered, "I was fighting a god. Apophis. It killed me. Three times."
The man sat up sharply, eyes glittering. "Fascinating! Simply fascinating! Who in their right mind would face that wretched serpent as an unbound?"
"I didn't have a choice," Eros snapped, anger cutting through the fog of fear.
"Ah, forgive me, forgive me." The man lifted a hand, mock-sincere. "I can only imagine your frustration. It must have been dreadful. Truly, I'm sorry."
The words were smooth, too smooth. But Eros found himself nodding. "…Thank you."
"And now?" The stranger tilted his head. "What will you do?"
Eros's hands clenched. "…What choice do I have?"
A shadow flickered across the man's face. Then he straightened, tapping the apple against his knee. "Ordinarily, you would fade. Flame guttered, story ended. But…" His grin returned, razor-bright. "As the master of this Underworld, I could grant you a different path. You would continue, here, within my domain. Not erased. Not gone. But not alive, either."
Suspicion stabbed through Eros. "Master of the Underworld? I thought you said you weren't a god."
"I am not." The man's voice dropped to velvet. "But I killed one. Hades."
Eros's eyes widened. The name was familiar, even if only from half-remembered movies. "You… killed the lord of the dead?"
"Oh yes," he said lightly. "It wasn't easy. Took more than wit and blood. But in the end, he fell. And as reward, I inherited certain… powers. That is why this realm bends to me now."
Eros studied him, unease crawling in his gut. Either this man was a liar of the highest order… or terrifyingly strong. Maybe both.
«Great. First Halix smiles and sells me to chains. Now this man smiles while talking about killing gods. Maybe the real monsters here are the ones who talk too much.»
He lowered his gaze. "And your offer… is there no other way?"
The man was silent for a moment. Then his smile returned, slower this time, deliberate. "Perhaps. There might be another way. But such things are never free. Tell me, Eros…" He leaned forward, eyes glinting like knives in the dark. "…are you willing to make a deal?"
The cavern seemed to hold its breath this time.
The black river whispered louder, carrying faint echoes of voices Eros couldn't recognize.
The ember in his chest flickered.
He swallowed, every instinct screaming at him that this man—this Reader—was danger incarnate.
And yet, what choice did he have?