Nemesis and her Spirits of Doom reappeared in the Palace of Voids, home of the Children of Nyx. Moros, Age, and Apate were waiting.

Moros was enraged. "You fool! Why didn’t you finish the fight? Why didn’t you kill them all?"

"I want him to suffer. I want them all to suffer as I have. He knows who I am now. His every waking thought will be consumed by me, every dream invaded by me! He will know no peace. Then I will kill him and his friends—slowly, painfully. Until then, I will toy with their lives as I please."

"As you please? You forget that you serve us!"

"I serve vengeance. I serve retribution. I am the Nemesis."

Age was slightly amused at the turn of events. She took her siblings aside. "Well, brother. Apparently I did a better job preparing her for the role than I thought. I told you she had the warrior fire."

Apate couldn’t believe her sister was taking it so lightly. "I knew we should never have relied on a human. They’re too unpredictable. She’ll ruin everything!"

"Yes, yes. We’ve heard all that before. But it was your idea to give her the Mask of Nemesis. She doesn’t just think she’s the spirit of retribution now—she is the spirit of retribution. This isn’t a problem for us. So she kills them slowly. What does it matter as long as they’re dead? Time is on our side. Besides, her way may be more…entertaining."

Moros was silent as he considered Age’s words. "Perhaps you are right. But I don’t like her rebelliousness."

"Don’t worry. You won’t have to put up with her for long. As soon as she’s killed them all, we won’t need her any longer. It is our power that has made her strong—and when we take that power away..."

The three of them floated back to where Nemesis waited for them, standing at attention. Moros spoke more encouragingly. "You’re right, of course, dear Nemesis. As long as the guilty are punished, that is all that matters. The crimes that this monk and his friends have committed enrage me—especially what he has done to you. I am just eager for swift justice. But slow punishment would be more fitting. We will watch your actions with interest. Rest now. Prepare yourself for your next battle." Nemesis bowed, then she and the Spirits disappeared.

She went to her room, a void without walls, floor, or ceiling. She floated in the greyness, but Oshay did not rest. Her mind was full of confusion. Voices warred in her head, telling her things that conflicted with each other. What had she become? She had ordered the Spirits of Doom to attack the city—and laughed while they did it.

"Anubis is my enemy. He is the one who has wronged me. Those people in the city were innocent bystanders."

"No! I can’t! Something’s not right. This doesn’t feel right…"

And did it feel right when he destroyed your entire clan? Did it feel right when he laughed at the devastation of your village? Do you think those people in the city wouldn’t do the same if given power like Anubis possessed? Listen to your heart! No one is innocent. Retribution is yours! Vengeance is yours! You are the Nemesis. Punish the guilty. Punish the guilty. Punish the guilty…"

Over and over these words pounded in her head. Over and over she saw the faces of her dead friends and family. The steel returned to her voice. "Yes. I am the Nemesis. Vengeance will be mine. I will punish the guilty."

In another part of the nether-dimension, two strange figures watched these events with scrying windows of their own. Hypnos spread his wings in anger. "Do you see that, Thanatos? They’re at it again. Their insignificant little intrigues have never held any interest for us—they were foolish and relatively harmless. But the Egyptian Chaos Gods were right. Now Moros, Age, and Apate want to do great harm to the mortal plane. And they’re using our realms to do it! I will not allow this. The land of dreams is my domain! Their plans defy you as well, my brother. First they steal a spirit from the land of the dead and now they want to flood your realm with those whose time has not yet come. They do nothing but sow chaos and upset the cosmic balance. We must stop them!"

The two were twins, both dark with great black wings, but they’re personalities were very different. Hypnos was a creature of fire and passion, while Thanatos cloaked himself in solemnity and serenity. His words were slow, filled with the weight of his age and the burden of his office as the god of Death. "I agree. But we no longer have the power to act directly in the mortal plane. We can only influence there. What do you suggest?"

"A message to the Sentinels. That is all we can do. But we can send them back to Egypt—there they will receive the help and power we cannot give them. I hope it is enough."

"It will have to be."