Chapter 18: The Depths of Deception

Chapter 18: The Depths of Deception

Damon plunged deeper into the bowels of Tartarus, the blue hellfire flickering around his hands, casting an eerie glow on the jagged walls that seemed to guide Damon to where he needed to go. The air grew thicker, filled with an acrid smoke that burned his lungs with each breath. But he pressed on, Atlas's words echoing in his mind.

As he ventured further, the terrain became increasingly treacherous. The ground beneath his feet shifted unpredictably, and strange, otherworldly growths reached out to snare his ankles. However, Damon used his hellfire to clear a path, the blue flames searing through the obstacles with ease.

"Sorry, but I'm already in hell. I don't want to join you in yours." Damon said, burning away the lost and tortured souls that tried to latch on to him.

Suddenly, a blood-curdling screech pierced the air. From the shadows, a Gorgon emerged, her serpentine lower body coiling as she approached, her hair a writhing mass of venomous snakes.

"Fresh meat," she hissed, her eyes glowing with malevolent hunger.

Damon's instincts kicked in. He averted his gaze, remembering the legends of a Gorgon's petrifying stare. "You picked the wrong prey," he growled, channelling his hellfire into his hands.

The Gorgon lunged, her claws raking the air where Damon's head had been a moment before. He ducked and rolled, lashing out with his hellfire. The hellfire seared her scales, eliciting a shriek of pain and rage.

Damon pressed his advantage, unleashing a barrage of fiery strikes. The Gorgon tried to counter, but each time she met his gaze, Damon redirected his eyes, relying on peripheral vision and the creature's movements to anticipate her attacks.

With a final, powerful lash, Damon severed the Gorgon's head. As the creature crumbled to ash, Damon allowed himself a moment to catch his breath.

-You received 100 souls-

Damon ventured further, and the terrain became increasingly treacherous with each step when suddenly a deep, guttural roar echoed through the caverns. The ground trembled beneath Damon's feet as a massive form charged towards him from the darkness. A Minotaur, its eyes blazing with fury, bore down on him with frightening speed.

Damon barely had time to raise a wall of hellfire before the beast was upon him. The Minotaur crashed through the flames, its thick hide sizzling but largely unharmed. Its massive fist caught Damon in the chest, sending him flying back into a rocky wall.

Pain exploded through Damon's body, but he forced himself to his feet. The Minotaur was already charging again. This time, Damon was ready. He waited until the last second, then dove to the side, letting the beast crash into the wall.

As the Minotaur staggered, Damon unleashed a torrent of hellfire, engulfing the creature in the blue flames. But to his shock, the Minotaur emerged from the flames, singed but still very much alive and even angrier.

"Tartarus-forged..." Damon muttered, realizing why his hellfire wasn't as effective. He needed a new strategy.

The Minotaur bellowed and charged once more. This time, instead of dodging, Damon stood his ground.

"Bring it on!" He yelled, opening his display screen and pumping another 30 souls to grant him another strength boost, feeling his muscles expand with raw power.

At the last moment, Damon channelled his hellfire into a concentrated point at his fist and met the Minotaur's charge head-on.

The impact was tremendous creating a large explosion of hellfire. Damon felt bones crack in his hand, but his hellfire-enhanced punch drove deep into the Minotaur's chest. The beast's momentum carried them both backwards, crashing through several rock formations before coming to a stop.

Damon found himself pinned beneath the Minotaur's massive body. For a terrifying moment, he thought he had failed. Then, slowly, the creature's weight shifted as it slumped to the side, the light fading from its eyes.

Gasping for breath, his body aching all over, Damon pushed himself up. He had won, but just barely. As he surveyed the carnage around him, he realized how close he had come to failure.

"I need to get stronger," he muttered to himself, flexing his injured hand and wincing at the pain. "There will be worse challenges ahead." He thought before he activated his shadow healing ability, feeling the shadows mend his body back to health.

-You received 200 souls-

Damon smiled and made another fist, feeling that he was already fully healed.

"That's better." He said, knowing he should press onward.

Damon emerged into a vast cavern. The ceiling was so high it was lost in darkness, and scattered throughout the space were the ruins of what looked like an ancient civilization. Crumbling columns and shattered statues lay strewn about, hinting at a forgotten history.

As Damon explored the ruins, a voice suddenly echoed through the cavern, causing him to freeze in his tracks.

"Who dares enter the domain of Erebus?" The voice was deep and resonant, seeming to come from everywhere at once.

Damon stood his ground, his hellfire burning brighter. "I am Damon, son of Hades. I seek the Obsidian Key." He said with a steady heartbeat.

A dark mist began to coalesce in front of him, taking the shape of a towering figure shrouded in shadow. Two gleaming eyes peered out from the darkness.

"The son of Hades, you say?" Erebus chuckled, the sound sending chills down Damon's spine from the way he said it. "And what makes you think you're worthy of the key?"

Damon raised his fists, the blue flames intensifying. "I don't need to be worthy. I just need to be strong enough to take it."

Erebus's laughter echoed through the cavern. "Ah, such bravado! But strength alone won't be enough here, young one. The key is protected by more than mere physical barriers."

Suddenly, the mist surrounding Erebus expanded, engulfing Damon. He found himself in a world of swirling shadows, disoriented and unable to see.

"Your hellfire may burn bright," Erebus's voice taunted, "but can it pierce the veil of true darkness?"

Damon tried to focus, to push back the shadows with his flames, but they seemed to absorb the light, growing stronger. Panic began to set in as he realized his power might not be enough.

"I can't push it back..." Damon said, letting his hellfire let loose in every direction, only to be swallowed by the darkness itself before the shadows consumed him.

"Where am I?" Damon asked, slowly waking to a strange reality.

The cavern melted away, replaced by a familiar yet distorted version of his childhood home in the Underworld. The air grew thick with a sickly sweet scent that made his head spin.

"Damon, my sweet boy," a hauntingly familiar voice called out. Damon's heart clenched as he turned to see his mother standing before him, exactly as he remembered her from his youth.

"Mother?" Damon whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. "But you're..."

"Dead?" She smiled sadly. "Yes, my love. But death is not the end in our world, is it?"

Damon took a step towards her, his hand outstretched, but she retreated, her form flickering like a dying flame.

"Why are you here?" Damon asked, his mind reeling.

His mother's eyes, once warm and loving, suddenly turned cold. "To show you the truth, my son. The truth you've been running from all these years."

The room around them began to shift, showing fragmented memories of Damon's past. He saw himself as a child, being forced to grow up in foster homes, and being beaten and abused by the staff and other children.

"You were not the son I raised," his mother's voice grew harsh. "I died ashamed of what you would become."

Damon felt as if he'd been struck. "No, that's not true. You loved me!"

"I loved the boy you were," she countered. "Not the monster you've become."

The room spun faster, memories flashing by in a dizzying whirl. Damon saw every mistake he'd ever made, every cruel word, every selfish action. His mother's voice echoed all around him, a constant stream of disappointment and disgust.

"You're not worthy of your father's power. You're not even worthy of being called my son."

Damon fell to his knees, clutching his head. "Stop it! This isn't real!"

"Isn't it?" His mother appeared before him, her form now grotesque and decaying. "This is the reality you've created, Damon. A world where you're hated, where you're alone. Where not even your own mother can love you."

Damon felt something inside him starting to crack. Doubt and self-loathing flooded his mind. Maybe she was right. Maybe he was unworthy, unlovable, a mistake... Cast aside for being nothing but a thief.

But then, amidst the chaos, a small, defiant part of him spoke up. He remembered Erebus's trial, the realization he had come to about his own identity.

"No," Damon said, his voice barely a whisper at first, but growing stronger. "No, this isn't real. You're not my mother."

He stood, his legs shaking but his resolve growing. "My mother loved me unconditionally. She would never say these things, no matter what I've done."

The apparition of his mother snarled, its form twisting into something monstrous. "You fool! You'll die alone and unmourned!"

Damon's hellfire ignited around him, burning away the illusions. "I am Damon," he declared, his voice resonating with power. "Son of Hades, yes, but more than that. I am my own person, shaped by my choices – good and bad. I've made mistakes, but I'm not defined by them. I choose my own path, and I will not be broken by guilt or shame."

As he spoke, the hellfire grew more intense, consuming the nightmarish visions around him. The false image of his mother let out an inhuman shriek as it was engulfed in flames.

Suddenly, Damon found himself back in the cavern, he was on his knees, sweat pouring down his face, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

As he slowly stood, Damon felt different. The experience had been horrifying, but he had faced his deepest fears and insecurities – and he had overcome them. He felt stronger, not just physically, but mentally and emotionally as well.

"Impossible!" Erebus said, watching as Damon had broken free of his illusion.

Suddenly Damon remembered Nyx's words and the strange blue light she had given him. Closing his eyes, Damon reached deep within himself, feeling that spark of power.

As he concentrated, he felt a new sensation – a cool, calming energy that contrasted with the heat of his hellfire. Opening his eyes, Damon saw tendrils of soft, blue light emanating from his body, pushing back against Erebus's shadows.

"No... It cannot be!" Erebus hissed, his voice tinged with surprise and a hint of fear.

Damon grinned, feeling a surge of confidence. "Nothing is impossible in Tartarus, isn't that right?"

With a burst of effort, Damon combined the cool light with his hellfire, creating a swirling vortex of blue energy that tore through Erebus's remaining illusions. The shadows dissipated, revealing the true form of Erebus – a being of living darkness, now recoiling from Damon's light.

"You... you possess the blessing of Nyx," Erebus said, his voice filled with awe. "Perhaps you are worthy after all."

The primordial god of darkness gestured towards a small pedestal that had appeared nearby. On it rested a key made of pure, black obsidian.

"Take it, son of Hades. You have earned the right to try."

Damon approached cautiously, half-expecting another trick. But as his fingers closed around the key, he felt a surge of power coursing through him.

"Use it wisely," Erebus warned as he began to fade away. "The key is both a tool and a burden. It will show you the way out of Tartarus, but it will also reveal truths you may not be prepared to face."

With that Erebus vanished completely, leaving Damon standing alone in the cavern, the Obsidian Key cold in his grip. He had overcome the challenge, but he couldn't shake the feeling that this was just the beginning of a much greater journey.

With renewed determination, Damon turned back towards the path that would lead him to Atlas. He had the key, but he knew the true test still lay ahead. Whatever truths awaited him, whatever challenges he would face, Damon was ready. He would escape Tartarus, confront Zagreus, and reclaim his place in the underworld – no matter the cost.

"Thank you, Mother," he whispered to the empty air. "The real you. For loving me, for believing in me. I'll make you proud."