Apocalypse: Starting With Three Unique Blessings-Chapter 54: Riddles.

"Mortal, bow before your gods!" The commanding voice echoed again.

Magnus’s brows furrowed at the imperious command, and anger quickly followed. Who did these beings think they were? First, they dragged him here without a word of explanation, then they held him immobile, also without explanation, and now they demanded that he bow to them.

Magnus would do no such thing. Never. God or mortal, it didn’t matter who they were; they wouldn’t control him. He refused to bow to anyone.

"Mortal, bow before your Gods at once!" The voice boomed, resonating with power and an undeniable command.

Magnus felt a strange compulsion in his chest, an urge to obey without question. Instinctively, he felt his body beginning to lower, bending against his will as if he had lost control of his own limbs.

Magnus gritted his teeth, fighting the strange force. He would not submit.

’No!’ he roared internally, struggling to resist the pressure, but his body continued its descent, seemingly independent of his will.

’No!’

’No!’

’No!’ Magnus screamed within his mind, teeth grinding as he strained to straighten his kneeling form.

"NO! I’LL NEVER BOW!" With a powerful bellow of defiance, Magnus finally shattered the unseen force attempting to subdue him.

A heavy silence fell upon the space. The twelve figures gazed down at Magnus in apparent shock. Even though their faces were obscured by distance, the palpable surprise hung heavy in the air.

"Insolence!" the commanding voice finally broke the silence. "Mortal, how dare you defy your gods? You deserve death! No, your soul deserves to rot in the abyss!" Suddenly, an immense pressure descended upon Magnus, a crushing weight unlike the previous force.

This wasn’t a pressure meant to force submission; it felt designed to obliterate his very essence. His body, composed entirely of his soul in this ethereal realm, felt as if it were burning alive, an intense heat threatening to pulverize him.

Magnus gritted his teeth, enduring the agonizing pain. He would not give these overbearing gods the satisfaction of seeing him break. Panic did not seize him.

Was he truly afraid of death? The answer was no.

Back on Earth, when the flying metal rod had struck him, in that fleeting moment before oblivion, Magnus had made peace with the darkness. He had never expected to be reborn into a new world, and even within the memories of this new body, he had experienced the brief instant of its demise. Death no longer held the same terror it once had.

Of course, this didn’t mean he had no desire to live. He would fight for his survival with every fiber of his being, but he would not be enslaved by fear. He would never allow that to happen, not from a god, not from a mortal. He feared no death at their hands.

The crushing pressure continued, and just as Magnus felt his soul begin to fragment, another voice intervened, this one feminine. "Azrael, enough. He is going to die."

"Pfft, what does it matter?" the commanding voice, now identified as Azrael, retorted. "He was going to die anyway."

"We don’t know that yet," the female voice replied.

"Pfft," Azrael scoffed, but the oppressive aura receded. Magnus felt the crushing pressure and the searing pain vanish.

"Mortal, that was foolish. Your defiance could have killed you. And for what?" The goddess voice, now directed at Magnus, held a different quality than Azrael’s.

Unlike Azrael’s arrogant tone, the goddess voice was calm and gentle, almost motherly, yet still imbued with undeniable authority. Magnus felt a flicker of emotion stir within him, but he quickly suppressed it. He looked up at the twelve figures still perched upon their thrones, their long golden robes rippling despite the lack of any breeze in this strange space.

Magnus’s gaze swept over the twelve figures. Instead of answering the question posed to him, he asked his own. "Who are you? And why am I here?"

Shock reverberated among the twelve gods. They stared at Magnus in disbelief, especially the goddess who had just spoken. She hadn’t expected him to ignore her question and pose one of his own.

"See? Why don’t we just obliterate this defiant regressor soul now?" Azrael’s arrogant voice suggested mockingly.

"No, Azrael. We, the Council of Gods, have already decided how to handle this. We will not go back on our decision," another god responded, his voice as commanding as Azrael’s, but laced with greater authority.

Magnus furrowed his brows, listening to the gods’ discussion. Regressor soul? What do they mean by that? He wondered if they were referring to his death and subsequent transmigration.

Confusion gnawed at him. Hadn’t the gods orchestrated his arrival in Aetherium after his death on Earth? A god had claimed to have gifted him with this new life in an act of mercy. So, what was Azrael talking about?

Lost in thought, Magnus didn’t realize the gods had concluded their discussion and turned their attention to him until one of them spoke. "Mortal!" The voice snapped Magnus back to reality. He faced them. "You have been brought before the Council of Gods. Answer our riddles, and you shall live. Fail, and be cast into the endless void."

Magnus frowned. ’Riddles? What riddles?’ Before he could voice his confusion, the god continued.

"Remember, for each riddle, you have only thirty seconds to answer. Failure will result in your immediate dispatch to the endless void. You only get one chance per riddle."

"What?" Magnus’s frown deepened. Thirty seconds and only one attempt? It felt deliberately designed for him to fail.

He wasn’t particularly skilled at riddles. How could he possibly solve one in such a short time?

"You need only answer three riddles correctly to pass. Good luck, mortal," the goddess said, her voice still carrying a motherly warmth. But Magnus had no time to dwell on that. Another god began to speak, posing the first riddle. He had to listen carefully. He doubted they would repeat it if he missed anything, given their apparent desire for him to fail.

"The first riddle: I am born of fire, yet I have no heat. I illuminate the past, but cast no shadow in the future. I tell stories untold, yet speak no words. What am I?"

Magnus’s brows furrowed. His time had already begun. He had to think fast.

’Born of fire, but no heat... Ash?’ he mused, but quickly dismissed the idea. Ash only satisfied the first part of the riddle, not the rest. 𝓯𝙧𝓮𝓮𝒘𝓮𝙗𝙣𝒐𝒗𝒆𝓵.𝓬𝓸𝒎

Something born of fire, no heat, illuminates the past, casts no shadows... What could it be?

His brows furrowed deeper. Time was slipping away.

’System, a little help here!’ he pleaded internally, but received no response. He sighed.

Ever since the appearance of the twelve figures, his system had become unresponsive. It felt as if it were gone entirely.

Sighing, Magnus gritted his teeth. Time was almost up. He had to answer.

Steeling himself, he spoke. "A memory. The answer is a memory."

A low murmur went through the assembled gods.

"What? He answered Cassius’s question?" one of the gods whispered in astonishment.

The rest of the council seemed equally surprised.

"That’s not possible. No mortal should be able to answer that riddle. I think Mortem is somehow helping this mortal," Azrael said, his voice filled with disbelief.

"That’s impossible. There’s no way Mortem could interfere without us noticing. Besides, we’ve sealed Mortem’s treasure within him, so there’s no way he could influence the outcome," another god countered.

"Then how do you explain this? How could a mortal answer that question?" Azrael demanded.

Silence followed before the god who had spoken earlier replied, "Luck. This mortal’s luck is quite high. I believe it’s just luck. I doubt it will help him again."

The other gods murmured in agreement. They seemed convinced that Magnus’s success was purely a matter of chance.