Page 293 of The Ascended
"No," my father said. "We would have known."
"How long?" I demanded, my mind racing through every interaction with Olinthar in recent memory, seeing them all in a horrifying new light.
Thais blinked slowly, like even that small movement took enormous effort. "Centuries."
My father sank to his knees beside Olinthar's corpse. "You speak of Primordial possession. It cannot be. He was obliterated." His hands shook as he examined the body with new eyes.
"Tell us everything," I urged gently, trying to keep my voice steady. "Thais, please. We need to know."
She stared at nothing for so long I thought she wouldn't answer. When she finally spoke, each word came out carefully, like she was afraid they might shatter. "Thatcher disappeared. I followed him and Olinthar here. He was trying to open Thatcher’s chest—then Elysia showed up and stabbed me."
I glanced towards the dead goddess. “Where is Thatcher now? Moros?”
“Gone.” It was all she said.
"Vivros's power," my father murmured, understanding and horror mixing in his tone. "If what she says is true, then that’s something Moros would want to absorb. The ability to unmake matter itself—in his hands, he would be unstoppable."
Thais's expression didn't change. "We fought him. Thatcher ripped him out." Her voice went even flatter. "Then Moros opened a hole. To nothing. He pulled Thatcher in."
My father's head snapped up. "He opened a passage to the Abyss?"
She turned to look at him, and the emptiness in her eyes was terrifying. "I held his hand. I held on. But he slipped away." Her gaze drifted back to nothing. "Just... slipped away."
The silence stretched, broken only by her breathing—too steady, too controlled, like she was manually remembering how to do it. “He said he’d find Thatcher in there.”
The implications crashed over us. Moros alive. Moros having controlled the pantheon's highest seat for years. Moros with knowledge of all our secrets, our weaknesses, our plans. And now Thatcher—with power that could rival a Primordial's—lost in the ether where Moros could reach him.
"Fuck," I exhaled.
"That's one way to put it," my father agreed, still looking shaken. "We need to—" He stopped, gathering himself with visible effort. "First things first. Olinthar. The power transfer. Then we deal with the rest."
"Can we get him back?" The question came out toneless, like she already knew the answer but had to ask anyway.
My father's silence stretched too long. When he finally spoke, his voice was careful. "Opening a passage to such an Abyss requires... specific conditions. Extreme conditions."
"Tell me."
"The tear Moros created—it only happened because two Primordial forces were tearing at reality's fabric. Vivros's power and Moros's essence, ancient enemies locked in direct conflict." He shook his head slowly. "We could gather all twelve Aesymar and still not generate that level of paradox. It requires powers that predate the pantheon itself, violently opposed, creating an anomaly so severe that existence gives up."
She absorbed this information without expression.
"We'll find another way," I said fiercely, though I had no idea how. "There has to be?—"
"There isn't," Morthus cut me off. "The expanse between realms isn't some door you can unlock. It's the absence of everything. Only a fundamental break in reality itself can bridge that gap."
Thais looked at me then, and the absence in her eyes was worse than tears. "He's gone."
"Thais—"
"And Olinthar?" Morthus asked carefully. “What did he do after?”
She blinked. “He’s dead.”
Her words were empty of the vengeance she'd craved for so long. Even killing him meant nothing without Thatcher.
"And Elysia?" I asked gently. "How does she fit into this?"
Thais's gaze drifted to the body in its pool of blood. "She was with him." A pause. "With Moros."
