Hitman With A Badass System

1414  Plan to Capture Death I

While Michael and Gaya were navigating the unique challenges of Nithroel's temple, Andohr, back in his fortress, was seething. He paced back and forth, his hands clenched behind his back, his face contorted in a mask of fury.

He had been so close. So damn close. He manipulated Agra, set the stage for a confrontation, and then nothing. Something blocked him from teleporting into Ava's forest and prevented him from capturing the God of Darkness when he was vulnerable. It made his blood boil just thinking about it.

His gaze fell on the mirror in the corner of the room, the one that showed her. Diana. Trapped in the Timeless Prison, a specially designed cell that froze its occupant in a moment of absolute agony. She was still unbroken and defiant. Despite everything he'd done to her, despite the years she'd spent in that place, her spirit remained unbent. It was infuriating.

Seraphene shrugged. "Gone. Vanished. After Agra's death, they disappeared. My spies, they overheard something. About the Verdant Sanctuary. About Ava's worshippers. They saw Gaya. She ascended. Became the Goddess of Monsters."

13:35

He had more pressing concerns. The Pantheon, weakened as it was, still posed a threat. And the God of Darkness was a wildcard. A chaos factor that Andohr hadn't fully accounted for. But, he had to admit, he had the advantage. He was gaining allies. Luxor's defection had been a coup. A god with a domain like his, a god with wealth, power, and influence was a significant victory. And with Seraphene's talents, he could persuade even more to join his cause.

"Are you still stewing over that failure, Andohr?" Seraphene's voice, laced with a hint of amusement, broke through his thoughts.

She was lounging on a nearby throne, her legs crossed, her gaze fixed on him, a knowing smirk playing on her lips.

"Where is he?" Andohr asked, his voice tight with suppressed anger.

Seraphene shrugged. "Gone. Vanished. After Agra's death, they disappeared. My spies, they overheard something. About the Verdant Sanctuary. About Ava's worshippers. They saw Gaya. She ascended. Became the Goddess of Monsters."

She paused, her smile widening.

"And then they went to Sagespire. To the Blacksmith Guild. Met with Rurik. But after that nothing. They're gone."

Seraphene, of course, had no idea about their true destination. Rin, for all her alliance with Andohr, was still Rin. The Princess of Murder. Egotistical. Distrustful. And secretive. She wouldn't have shared her knowledge of Michael's presence in the temple. Not with anyone. It was a weakness—a flaw in her character.

And it was working in Michael's favor.

If Rin had informed Andohr and revealed their location well, things would have been very different. Andohr might have intervened directly. He might have captured Michael.

But Rid did not. And now Michael and Gaya were ascending the temple and getting closer and closer to the Agni-King.

And Andohr? He was clueless.

"The Three Horsemen wish to speak with you, my lord," Seraphene said, changing the subject, her voice smooth, her gaze fixed on Andohr's face.

Andohr blinked, surprised. The Three Horsemen. Xyloth, the God of Murder. Fourcrux, the God of Necromancy. Morbus, the God of Plagues. They were a force of nature. A trio of destruction. Responsible for more deaths, and suffering than any other deities in the realm of the Gods.

And they wanted to meet with him.

He had been dealing with them, of course since they helped him in the past with certain projects. They had also manipulated events, pulled strings, and whispered in the right ears, to facilitate Eve's death. These three knew she was more than just a friend to the God of Darkness. She was an incarnation of Death himself. And by eliminating her they had weakened Death and made him vulnerable.

It had been a necessary step and a strategic move. Andohr helped them by manipulating events, pulling the strings from the shadows, and ensuring that their plan succeeded. But it wasn't something Andohr enjoyed. He had standards. He wouldn't have stooped to colluding with those monsters if it hadn't been absolutely necessary.

He needed allies. Powerful allies. And those three were power incarnate. His hatred for Michael, for the humiliation he'd suffered was so intense and so all-consuming, that he would do anything. Anything to destroy him.

Even if it meant shaking hands with the three of the most reviled, most fucked up gods in the entire realm. He needed them for now.

"And what do they want now?" Andohr asked, his voice a low growl.

Seraphene shrugged, her shoulders moving in a graceful, almost serpentine motion.

"Who knows what goes on in the minds of those creatures," she said, her voice laced with a hint of disgust. "But if I had to guess I'd say it has something to do with Death,"

Andohr chuckled, a cold, humorless sound.

"No, I don't imagine they are," he said, his gaze turning thoughtful. "Where do they want to meet?"

"Morbus suggested the Moonlit Valley," Seraphene replied, her lips curling into a slight smile. "At midnight. "

Andohr sighed. "Very well. Tell them I'll be there."

When the appointed hour arrived, Andohr found himself standing in the center of the Moonlit Valley. It was a desolate place, a barren canyon carved into the heart of a mountain range. Three moons, their surfaces glowing with ethereal light, hung in the inky sky above, casting long, eerie shadows across the landscape. A narrow river, its waters as black as ink, wound its way through the canyon floor, its surface reflecting the pale moonlight like a shimmering serpent.

As Andohr stood there, his gaze fixed on the unnatural stillness of the river, he felt a shift in the air, a distortion of space. He was, after all, the God of Time and Space. He knew the signature of teleportation like the back of his hand.

A portal, a swirling vortex of purple energy, opened behind him, and a figure stepped out.

Morbus.

The God of Plagues was unmistakable. He wore his usual, tattered brown robes, their edges frayed and stained with something that Andohr didn't want to identify. A cloud of flies buzzed around his head, their wings a constant, irritating drone. And the smell oh, the smell. It was sulfur. And decay. And something else. Something sweet. Sickly sweet. Like rotting fruit. His face was hidden beneath the shadow of his hood, but Andohr could see the gleam of his yellowish teeth, the cruel twist of his lips.

Andohr, despite his disgust, maintained a neutral expression.

"Morbus," he said, his voice calm, steady. "What brings you here?"

Morbus chuckled, a dry, rasping sound, like bones scraping together.

"Death is coming out of his hole, Andohr," he said, his voice a low, guttural growl. "It's time you held up your end of the bargain. It's time you helped us capture him."

Andohr felt a flicker of something akin to surprise but it was hard to tell, even for him. He had known, of course, that this moment would come. It was inevitable. After all, he made a deal with the Three Horsemen, a pact forged in the fires of mutual self-interest. They had helped him reanimate Vedora and taken out several of Zorian's angels, making it seem like an accident. And in return, he had promised them his assistance when the time came.

Yet, capturing Death was a bold move. Audacious. Even for them. Death was one of the oldest of the gods, a being of immense power, a force of nature. And the Three Horsemen were right to ask for his help. If anyone could trap Death, it was Andohr, the God of Time and Space.

"So," Andohr said, his voice carefully neutral, "he's coming out, is he?"

"We have our informants," Morbus chuckled, his voice a dry, rasping sound. "It's confirmed. Death is coming. To Luxor. In four days. Under disguise. It's the perfect opportunity. To catch him."

Andohr's mind raced, calculating the risks, the potential rewards.

"Let's say you succeed," he said, his gaze fixed on Morbus. "What then? What do you plan to do with Death?"

He was curious. What were the Three Horsemen planning? What did they hope to gain by capturing their brother? It had to be about power. It always was. But what kind of power? What was their endgame? Morbus, however, had no intention of revealing their plan. He simply smiled, a chilling, unsettling gesture that made Andohr's skin crawl.

"That, my dear Andohr," he said, his voice a low purr, "is our little secret."

Morbus knew, of course. They all knew. With the God of Darkness on the loose, killing gods, and defying the natural order, Death's presence was more important than ever. They needed him to protect themselves and escape their own mortality.

And what better way to ensure their own survival than to capture Death himself? To control him. To bend him to their will.

It was a dangerous game—a desperate gamble. But the Three Horsemen were nothing if not ambitious.

Andohr knew, of course, that there was no point in pushing the matter. The Three Horsemen were secretive. They didn't trust him. Just as he didn't trust them. It was a partnership born of necessity, of mutual self-interest, not friendship.

But Andohr had ways of finding things out. He was, after all, the God of Time and Space. He could observe and bend reality to his will. He would find out what they were planning, sooner or later.

What Morbus and his brothers didn't know was that the God of Darkness also had business in Luxor. Zorian's request, the destruction of Seraphene's data center, had set in motion a chain of events that would bring both him and Death to the same place, at the same time in four days.

A collision course.

And Andohr well, Andohr would just have to wait and see what happened.

Hi,

This is the Part 1 of the chapter and I mistakenly uploaded part II first which was the previous chapter. But I did not delete or update the previous chapter because it would be unfair to those who unlocked and read the chapter. So please forgive me for this mistake,

don_offl n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

Creator's Thought