Thalia came to in a vast open space.
There were no walls, no floor, no sky. Just an infinite stretch of nothingness cloaked in thick, grey smoke. The kind of smoke that didn't burn your lungs but still made you feel like you were choking on it, like it seeped into your soul instead of your throat.
Her voice cracked as she spoke aloud, more to keep herself grounded than to seek answers.
"What's going on? Where am I?"
Then it hit her.
The memory.
A flood of images crashed into her mind, the blood, the train, the monster, the woman and her child.
The tail.
The pain.
Her scream.
"That's right… I died."
Reflexively, she reached down, her legs.
She grabbed at her thighs, her calves, her ankles.
They were there.
Whole.
No blood. No wounds. No pain.
"What the heck…?".
"…Then if I'm really dead… would that make this place hell?" she asked herself, the words dry in her throat. She looked around at the oppressive grey mist and felt her stomach twist.
"Crap. Did I really get damned to hell?"
She stretched out her arms in front of her, hoping to touch something, anything. Her fingers met only smoke, thick and unyielding. Like the world itself had no edges.
She started walking.
One cautious step at a time, arms still outstretched like she was blindfolded on the edge of a cliff.
She walked, and walked and walked.
"Dammit… this place is really getting to me… How long have I been walking for? Five minutes? Five hours? Five days?"
There was no way to tell. The smoke robbed her of everything, color, depth, time.
"I can't even tell if it's day or night here. It's seriously throwing me off…"
She kept walking, each footstep echoing into the fog like it was being swallowed.
"This place… it's endless."
Eventually, she stopped. Took in her surroundings.
Same as before.
Smoke. Silence. Emptiness.
Was she moving at all?
Was she just circling in place, caught in some loop?
"This is insane…"
And that's when she saw it.
A figure in the distance.
Barely a silhouette, barely distinguishable from the smoke, but it was someone.
"Is that… That's a person!" she shouted, voice cracking.
"HEY! OVER HERE!"
She ran. The sound of her own footsteps reassured her that she was still grounded. Still real. She reached out, desperate to grab them, to prove she wasn't alone—
Her hand went straight through the figure's shoulder like it was made of mist.
"What the—?" She staggered back.
The figure turned. Slowly.
It rematerialized as it moved, features becoming clearer.
And horrifying.
Sunken sockets stared blankly back at her, no eyes, just hollow darkness.
Skin stretched taut over sharp bones.
Cheeks hollow, lips pale, limbs thin like branches dried in the sun.
He looked like a man who'd been starving for centuries, but refused to die.
Thalia's words caught in her throat.
Her body instinctively took several steps back.
"What the heck…?" she muttered, trembling.
And then a voice.
Not his.
Everywhere and nowhere all at once. Commanding. Cold. A voice that needed no physical body.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you." it said.
Thalia spun around, still disoriented from the lack of any clear direction.
"Who's there? Who said that? Show yourself!" she called out, her voice carried in every direction but gave no hint of where the speaker was.
A low, amused chuckle echoed through the grey.
"Show myself? Well, aren't you an arrogant one. You step into my domain and command that I show myself?"
This voice, whoever, or whatever, it was, was the only thing in this empty void that could talk back. She needed to stay calm. Rational. No point pissing off her only lead.
"I'm sorry," she said carefully, "I'm just a little confused at the moment. Where exactly is this place?"
"You, Thalia Grave, have died," it said flatly. The words rang out like a bell toll. Final. Undeniable.
"You are caught in the border between worlds, The Pale Crossing. A place where souls with unfinished business can either choose to pass on peacefully… or wait. Until they're ready to move on."
"So this is kinda like a… waiting room?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
"A crude description," the voice replied with a touch of disdain.
"But yes, if that helps you understand better. A waiting room, where I decide who stays, and who moves on. But you, Thalia Grave of Earth… You are a specimen. Sacrificing your own life to save countless others. I'd say there hasn't been a human like you in over half a century."
She furrowed her brows. "Seriously? That can't be right. I just did what anyone else would've done in that situation."
"Is it okay if I ask a question now?" she added, voice laced with cautiousness.
"I don't see why not," said the voice.
"Who—no. What exactly are you?"
There was a moment of heavy silence. A kind of stillness that made her skin crawl.
Then, the voice spoke.
"I've been called many names over the eons. Across countless worlds and alternate realities. Some know me as Azrael. Others refer to me as Thanatos. The Grim Reaper is a new one I've grown rather accustomed to…
But you, Miss Grave, may call me…"
The voice dropped an octave, as though the whole universe inhaled.
"DEATH."
The sound rattled her bones.
The very air shook.
The thick smoke that had blanketed the realm began to part, churning and folding like storm clouds clearing after centuries.
And then, through the opening mist, a figure.
Tall.
Large.
Draped in a long, black cloak that seemed to absorb all light. The hood covered its head, revealing no face, just a perfect, impenetrable shadow where a face should be. It leaned on a staff, or perhaps a cane, a long, gnarled thing that extended far past its own height.
Each step it took shivered the floorless realm. Shadows clung to its feet, like they feared being left behind.
Thalia's breath caught in her throat.
The closer it got, the more its sheer size became apparent. It wasn't just tall, it was colossal. By the time it reached her, it stood easily fifteen feet tall.
It loomed before her like a tombstone erected by God himself.
Still, she didn't move.
No panic.
No scream.
No trembling lips or widened eyes.
Just Thalia.
Standing in the presence of Death itself.
"How interesting," the voice said again, now more focused, as if coming directly from the thing's cloaked mouth, if it had one.
"Usually, humans run. Or scream. Some fall to their knees from the sound of my voice alone.
But you…
You're different, aren't you?"
The creature bent low, crouching deeply to meet her eye-level.
The two stood inches apart now.
Her, mortal and still bleeding out only moments ago.
It, a formless mass of eternity wrapped in shadow.
Still, she didn't flinch.
"Very well," it said, rising back to its towering form.
"I have made my decision."
"As things stand… you are not completely dead just yet.
Life still trickles through your body back on Earth.
So I offer you this:
You may choose to stop fighting. Let go. And pass onto the next stage of the afterlife, judgement from the one who sits on high.
Or…
Become my Herald, and return to Earth with a second chance at life."
Thalia's mind raced.
"So I get to choose," she thought.
"This doesn't seem like a normal situation.
I can either move on…
Or return to Earth, under the condition of becoming… a Herald of Death?"
She exhaled slowly. Then sais aloud,
"What exactly is a Herald?"
"You will become a warning to those who seek to do evil, an object of fear that even monsters will cower before. You will be my soldier. You will herald me, herald death."
Thalia crossed her arms, lips twisting in irritation.
"So my options are pretty much die now or die later. Shit… what kind of shitty choice is that? And what exactly do you get out of all this?"
The voice grew cold and absolute.
"When the time comes, I will request a single thing from you. You will not be allowed to refuse."
This made Thalia even more skeptical, was a second chance at life truly worth it if she couod lose control of it at any moment?
Death raised its gnarled staff and drove it into the ground with a force that felt like thunder.
The earth beneath them didn't crack—it yielded. Smoke and ash pulled away, revealing what looked like liquid obsidian beneath their feet. Like the world had become a bowl of ink-black water. Death stirred its staff into it slowly, rhythmically, like mixing stew with a ladle.
"Before you make a decision, take a look at this."
Ripples formed. The black surface shimmered.
And then… an image.
Stonewall Station.
A scene of carnage.
Ripped metal. Blood-soaked floors.
The remains of a dozen bodies, twisted and lifeless. Police tape wrapped around the entrance and exit trying to hold the place together.
But what caught Thalia's eye, what made her throat dry and her knees weak, was the sight of the monsters.
Dead.
One of them had its body torn in half, innards and spine exposed like shredded cables.
The other had been crushed severely, its head stuck in the wall, concrete shattered around it like a crater.
Sirens.
Flashing lights.
Police officers flooding in and out of the station, some taking notes, one vomiting into a corner at the sight of the bloodbath.
And in the center of it all, a single hero. Dressed in black and silver, surrounded by detectives and speaking to them calmly.
"Is that Stryde?" Thalia asked.
"Due to your heroic efforts, your friend Christopher Laury was able to make it to a Hero Phone and call for help. Within minutes, the hero known as Stryde arrived and vanquished the monsters."
A wave of relief washed over her.
Her breath slowed.
Her shoulders loosened.
"He made it."
A small smile touched her lips, trembling and faint, but there.
Then she saw it.
A group of coroners zipping up a black body bag.
Her smile faded.
It was her.
Or at least… what was left of her.
The heartbreak came fast and unrelenting.
A woman burst through the yellow tape screaming, clawing to reach the body bag.
It was her mother.
"LET ME GO!! THAT'S MY BABY!! NOOOO!!"
Tears streamed down her face. Her hair stuck to her cheeks.
The hospital badge still clipped to her scrub top, as if she'd dropped everything the moment she got the call.
"THALIA PLEASE! DON'T LEAVE ME!!"
She fought like a rabid animal. Her nails dug into the arms of officers holding her back.
How she made it through the street barricades, how she barreled past the units at the staircase, it didn't matter. Nothing could stop her. She had to see her daughter.
More officers joined the struggle, but there was something impossible about a grieving mother. Something primal. Uncontainable.
Her cries shattered the air,
raw,
ugly,
and heartbreaking.
Like the universe had cracked inside her chest and she had no choice but to scream it out.
"Get her outta here," one of the officers said, voice thick with guilt.
Two officers hooked her arms and dragged her away, her shoes scraping across the bloodstained concrete. Her voice echoed across the station, bouncing from wall to wall, collapsing the fragile silence that had begun to settle.
The coroners stopped what they were doing.
Officers removed their hats. A few lowered their heads in silence.
None of them could carry on, not after hearing a mother's soul break apart in real time.
"Fuck," muttered one officer down the platform. He lit a cigarette.
"How old was the vic?" he asked
"Unconfirmed. But I'd say maybe… late teens. Early twenties."
"Dammit."
"I'll do it," Thalia said, without hesitation.
Her voice cracked. Her hands trembled.
Tears were welling up again, she wiped them away.
"Send me back right now!"
Death didn't respond at first.
"So you've made your decision?" it asked at last.
"I have. I'll do whatever you want. Just… send me back. Please."
"Very well. The decision has been made."
Death raised its staff once more, and the image vanished into smoke. It turned and began to walk away, cloak dragging behind it, disappearing once more into the fog.
But before it vanished completely, it paused, then turned its hood back toward her.
"You will not return as you came. I will bestow upon you my power, and the understanding to wield it. As you were not born a hybrid, and neither are you of fairy blood, I will grant you an interface to guide your evolution. Something your kind is… accustomed to."
Its voice grew more distant, like thunder echoing from another world.
"When you awaken, go to Harlem. Find Gerald. He will give you something of great value, something you will need on your journey. That is all.
Now…
BEGONE."
Death raised its staff and struck the ground.
A violent crack erupted beneath Thalia's feet. A force slammed into her chest, yanking her backward through the smoke.
Faster. Faster.
She couldn't stop herself. It felt like something had hooked into her ribs and was pulling, yanking her across the void like a puppet on a string.
She could feel her consciousness starting to slip again.
Her body ached. Her heart pounded.
A sharp pain in her chest, then…
Nothing.