Oshay reappeared in the Palace of Voids. The Children of Nyx had been watching her battle. Moros was furious. "Stupid human! Why didn’t you fight? Why didn’t you kill?"

Oshay fell to her knees, her voice like a little child’s. "I can’t. It’s not right."

Age seeped towards her like an ominous fog. "After everything we’ve done for you, this is how you repay us? I saved you, gave you power to strike with vengeance. You have a mission to punish the guilty. Go back and finish it!"

Apate swirled near her ear, whispering. "Anubis still lives. How can your clansmen rest in peace when their murderer roams free? He must die--then his friends, then the world. No one is innocent. They must all feel the sting of your retribution."

"No…I don’t know…I…" A warmth pulsed through her body, starting from the shuriken wound on her leg. Oshay had an odd desire to keep the shuriken with her. She unobtrusively pulled it out, secreting it in a hidden pouch of her boot. The wound it caused didn’t hurt, but she felt so strange—suddenly both calm and alert at the same time. Her thoughts seemed clearer than they’d been in months. She looked at the three of them and saw for the first time how little they cared about her. They exuded hatred and evil. Why hadn’t she noticed before? She stood up, putting her weight on her good leg. Oshay spoke with more confidence. "No. I let you turn me into a monster. But not anymore. Do your own dirty work—I won’t be your executioner."

Age smiled, her teeth gleamed white against the dark shadows of her face. "You forget, little Nemesis. We made you…and we can unmake you." A bolt of black energy blasted Oshay. She was paralyzed with pain. Oshay tried to teleport, but found that power gone. "Thinking of leaving us? Try all you wish—it won’t do you any good. I’ve just removed all the special abilities we gave you. And now, I’ll take back the life energy we loaned you, as well." She held up a hand, ready to consume Oshay in her black flame, but Moros grabbed her hand, whispering in her ear.

"Don’t be hasty, sister. She may still be useful to us. The Sentinels are so predictable—they’ll be coming here soon. We want them to have something to search for, don’t we?" Age reluctantly agreed. The three of them combined their energy to encase her in a bubble. "Now we wait."

Apate was uneasy. "But what about this new armor—the Armor of Chaos?"

Moros was thoughtful. "It does bother me that we know next to nothing about it. They obviously found it in Egypt, but for some reason the scrying glasses couldn’t see exactly where the one known as Astarte went…nor have we been able to see into the house they use for their meetings. The armor doesn’t seem that powerful, but Anubis was able to destroy all the Spirits of Doom with it easily."

Age snorted derisively. "You both worry too much. It’s not that impressive. So they’ve called it the Armor of Chaos. What do the humans know of true Chaos? They presume much and know little—that is why once we get rid of the Sentinels and then the Ronins, we will have no trouble wiping these inferior animals from the Earth. Then we will bring the Great Darkness back and walk the world once more."

The Sentinels stood in a circle, combining all of their powers to follow the trail Mia had picked up. "Everybody brace yourselves. We’re going to another dimension and we don’t know what’s waiting for us there. Ready?" They all nodded. "Okay. Let’s do it!"

The air was filled with the multiple colors of their armors’ energies and the red of the Jewel of Life.

They teleported into a strange castle of sorts—a place of white, grey, and black. Everyone stood, dumbfounded. The room was like an M.C. Escher drawing where stairways led everywhere and nowhere, perspective mocked itself, and up and down meant nothing. A place that warped the visual and defied the logical. Trace and Gilgamesh were standing on what looked like the wall to Mia, but to them probably seemed like the floor. Mia felt slightly nauseous after staring at their surroundings too long. She was trying to see through the illusion to the real layout of the room, but it wasn’t working. Then it struck her--there were no illusions. This was the reality for this dimension.

Trace rubbed his eyes. "Umm. I hope I’m not the only one seeing this crazy room."

Everyone agreed that they were seeing the same insanity.

"How do we find our way? Which…direction should we go?"

"I can sense where Oshay is, but I don’t know which stairway or door will get us there. They’re everywhere, leading to nowhere, leading to each other. I just don’t know." Mia noticed Anubis looking around with narrowed, intense eyes. "Anubis. What is it?"

"It’s strange. I see the same thing you see—a chaotic mess. But it somehow makes sense. I think it is my armor’s doing. This is the home of primordial gods and my armor was made from primordial forces—perhaps they share some of the same elements. I don’t understand this place on a cognitive level, but on an instinctive level…"

Astarte seemed intrigued. "Yes. That had not occurred to me before. Most gods don’t actually need their physical senses—they use them for the novelty of it or for interaction with humans. A place like this would not bother them at all—but would make most human visitors agitated. I’m sure that was the intent in this case. I myself grew up in a realm of sky and clouds, where human concepts of direction meant little."

"Then this doesn’t bother you, either of you? You could navigate here without any problems?"

"If I knew where I wanted to go, yes."

Mia was frustrated. "There must be some way for us to combine my sense of where Oshay is with your ability to move through this place."

Astarte thought about it for a moment. "Since the gods do not use physical senses to make their way, perhaps we should try that on a smaller scale. Close your eyes and allow Anubis and I to lead the way. The others can keep their eyes open since they only need to follow us."

"But how will you two know where Oshay is?"

"Close your eyes, Mia. Now think of Oshay. Do you see her in your mind, sense her?" Mia nodded. "Without opening your eyes, point in her direction." Mia pointed to her left. "Then that is where we shall go." They all set out, Mia leading the way with her eyes closed, Astarte guiding her. Anubis was right behind them. Gilgamesh and Trace took the rear. Gilgamesh noticed that Trace looked nervous.

"Is there something wrong?"

Trace could detect no malice in his tone. It’s…it’s this place. My armor has strong ties to the Earth, and this palace is so unearthly. I’ve never felt so uneasy, so far from home…and there have been many times I…" Trace stopped and shook his head as if he were shaking off a bad memory. He turned away from Gilgamesh.

Gilgamesh knew he referred to the times when he’d been Enkidu and had tried to go back to the wild and couldn’t. It was Gilgamesh’s turn to look away. He spoke, his words heavy with shame. "I am sorry. If you never believe anything else, believe that."

Trace couldn’t let it go, not now when they were finally talking about it. "I just want to know why you never told me what you’d done. Did you really hate me that much?"

"No. Not by then. But I was afraid, afraid that you would hate me and leave Uruk forever. You were the first friend--the only friend--I’d ever had at that point. I was a different person when we first met. My father was a god and I’d been told all my life that I was superior to others. Then I became a king—a selfish little boy with golden toys and a whole kingdom of people to tell me how superior I was. Then I met you…and I hated you. You made me see how small I really was. But we grew past that and became friends."

"But why the battles? You were always looking for enemies for us to fight. Couldn’t you see that I was tired of fighting?"

"Honestly, I didn’t. I was young and strong. And like many youths, I felt invincible. I thought the two of us could conquer any foe. I thought we’d live forever. It wasn’t until you died that I truly began to grow up. And after a thousand years trapped in another dimension, constantly at war with other gods, I’ve learned how little glory there is in fighting. Though I wear the Armor of War, I could live my whole life without another battle and be content. Sadly, I know that is not my destiny. War is my destiny."

Trace’s mouth was set in a grim line, but he said nothing. The two of them kept walking and watching.

Mia stopped abruptly. She opened her eyes as the others came into the room behind her. Three shadowy forms swirled around the room, two female in appearance, one male. They looked much as Hecate had—vaporous creatures with glowing red eyes. Then Mia recognized them from everyone’s dreams. Moros, Age, and Apate. The Children of Nyx. Behind them, floating in the air, was a large bubble crackling with black energy. Oshay lay inside, barely moving, pain etched on her face.