At the Void Giant’s words, Frederick felt his body soar off into the distance, towards the great castle. Periboia followed, drifting silently through the void like a ghost, but the shadow-creatures remained where they were, flickering restlessly against the black backdrop. Seconds later Frederick’s feet found the floor of the castle. It was much more solid than he had initially believed. At the same time he landed, the four figures that had been rising upwards with the castle now appeared around him, kneeling.

Frederick made to speak, though truthfully he had no idea what to say, but found instead that his tongue seemed to have frozen in his mouth. There was an icy feeling spreading through him, as though he had been plunged into a bath of cold water. Once again he felt that uncomfortable feeling of falling backwards, but this time it seemed more . . . contained, somehow.

When the sensation had passed, he was gazing out at the same scene he had been focused on earlier, but there was an odd, grainy quality to it now, and every noise sounded strangely distant.

“What’s going on?” His voice issued the same way, a sort of ethereal echo, much like Alcyeoneus’s but less metallic-sounding; even as he spoke, he did not feel his mouth move, nor did his hands respond to his command to reach for his jaw.

He heard Alcyeoneus laugh, using Frederick’s own voice. “You actually believed I would allow you to remain in control of this vessel the entire time, human?” he jeered.

“We had a deal!” Frederick said fiercely.

“Quite. You pass control of your body onto me in exchange for my allowing the retention of your soul, thus keeping you alive. I did just that; you will remain as you are, but I did request autonomy of your body for a purpose, and as you have granted it to me, I intend to fulfill that purpose.” He snapped his fingers and the scenery changed. They now seemed to be inside the castle, in what appeared to be the throne room, a vast chamber sporting several great pillars that supported a ceiling so high it was lost to view. The floor was like one great, gleaming sheet of thundery-grey stone, and an enormous, magnificent throne stood close to the front wall, into which was carved the image of a gigantic humanoid figure that could only be the god himself.

Alcyeoneus took one look at the throne, screwed Frederick’s face into a frown, then snapped his fingers again. The throne instantly resized itself, making a more comfortable fit for his new, much smaller form. He sank into it, wisps of smoke rising from the floor and solidifying into handsome black-and-grey robes over Frederick’s body as he moved. He looked around at the room, at the other figures (who had shifted into human-sized forms as well), and expelled a heavy sigh.

“Millenia trapped in a box, only to be freed at last, and then what? Still confined,” he said furiously, gesturing at Frederick’s body in outrage.

“It might not be the most comfortable fit, but it does offer the most flexibility, my Lord,” Periboia said. “At least this time we don't have to dig for more leylines to keep you here.”

“I wish I could say not being able to manifest into your true form was the largest of your worries, my Lord,” one of the four male figures said. “But the current Dragonknights, as I'm sure you are aware, have escaped. If they commune with their Elders, learn to recreate the seal that they had used —”

“It won't matter,” Alcyeoneus said dismissively, waving this statement aside. “I've seen them firsthand. The older generation was far superior, and even they nearly failed, these young ones stand no chance.”

“My Lord —”

“Enough!” Alcyeoneus bellowed, his voice echoing loudly around the cavernous room, and his subject fell silent. “The Knights pose no threat,” he said with finality, “a simple flock of Nalusa should be enough to deal with them. No, my interests do not lie with them. My Hunters — where are they?”

At once, as though in reply to his question, the three Void Hunters materialized on the spot, two of them, the smaller male and the female, clutching the largest of the three, who was sprawled limply in their arms, his dark robes stained scarlet.

“My Lord,” the woman said in a shaky voice.

“Nyx, Tartarus,” Alcyeoneus said, looking down at them in mild interest. “It has been quite a period. Do tell, what happened here?”

“It was the Dragonknights,” said the man, Tartarus. “One of them hit him — a blunt strike with her sword. He's only just hanging on. My Lord —” He looked up at Alcyeoneus, his hood fell back, and his face became visible in the reflected light from the burnished floor, long, pale, and desperate, framed with two large, dark, beady eyes.

Alcyeoneus sighed. He waved his hand, and a dull purple light came over the limp Hunter. His allies fell back, watching, transfixed, as the blood stains slowly faded away, as his breathing eased. And at last, the Hunter opened his eyes.

“Erebus!” Nyx cried. “How — how do you feel, brother?”

Erebus did not respond. Silently he sat up, looked around, and as his eyes focused on Alcyeoneus, he threw himself forward onto his hands and knees. “My Lord!” he exclaimed. “You've returned! Welcome, welcome —”

“That will do, Erebus,” Alcyeoneus said lazily, though he was inwardly satisfied at this reaction. “Grovel later, there is work to be done.”

“Of course, my Lord,” Nyx moaned.

“Firstly, the Dragonknights that managed to evade me earlier. I want them found. Send as many of the Nalusa as you wish, there is no shortage. Once you've killed them, retrieve the swords, and the dragons. Those pesky sticks have caused me enough trouble; we'll destroy them, then the lizards.”

“At once, my —” But the rest of her sentence was cut off by a very pronounced, irritated cough in Alcyeoneus’s ear.

The Void Giant rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes, of course. Two of them, the youth that has claimed the topaz blade, and the girl that accompanies him, er — Hera — no, Hestia,” he corrected himself, as Frederick’s voice hissed in his mind. “Yes, bring them here as well."

“And?”

“Unharmed,” Alcyeoneus said through gritted teeth. “Go, now.”

Nyx nodded, bowed reverently, and dissolved into the very floor, disappearing.

“As for you two, Anzius, Nero, I would like an audience with our friends in the deep blue. As soon as possible.” As the two figures disappeared, Alcyeoneus took a great sniff, as though appraising a vast, sumptuous feast, and his face broke into a wide, satisfied smile. “I can smell them — the remaining nature gods, few indeed, but still there. Tartarus, Zagreus, Mors, I want you to bring them to me, alive.”

Like Nyx, Tartarus and the remaining two figures who had appeared with the castle vanished into the floor.

“And Erebus. . . . Yes, my oldest. I have a rather special task for you.”

“Name it, and it shall be done, my Lord,” Erebus said eagerly.

“The black dragon. What was it called — Malius? Mildre? — Malidreus, yes. Quite a beauty. I've had my sights upon it for the longest time. It would make a lovely addition to my collection. Fetch it for me, won't you?”

“It shall be done, Master!” Erebus declared, and he too vanished. Periboia turned to Alcyeoneus.

“And what will you be doing, Sire?”

Alcyeoneus sat back in his chair, relaxing. A portion of the floor before them disappeared, leaving a large black hole, through which the energy the creatures had brought up earlier was now streaming, its light bouncing off the shining walls. It veered straight for Alcyeoneus, seeping into him as his own essence had filled Frederick.

“I? My powers have been greatly diminished over the past few millenia in my incarceration, I will not deny it, and that display upon my resurrection has drained me even more. I will stay here for a while, recuperate, and when the others reappear, I will announce my return to the world at last. Until then, I think I'll get to know my new acquaintance a little more. So, Frederick Kohen, tell me more about yourself.”