Chapter 8 - Chapter 1.8: Condition

𝟏.𝟖: Condition

Cassie's perspective

𝐈 thought getting some answers would make me feel better about all this… but the knot in my chest only tightened.

It was a lot to process all at once. The aftermath of my death. Nylos' backstory. My candidacy for rebirth. And this strange new mission—if it could even be called that.

I couldn't shake the feeling that it was all a fever dream. Any moment now, I'd wake up in that same suffocating world I once knew—gray walls, hypocritical smiles, faded scars, and fogged up mirrors.

Even if this was real—and a part of me believed it was—I still didn't know how to feel. My feelings were a tangled mess of disbelief, hope, fear, and… guilt.

I didn't have much when I was alive. No family. No friends. Just betrayals wrapped in blood ties and broken trust.

But I had Winfred.

And she was the only family I ever truly had.

Leaving her behind like that… I hated it.

She would probably spend the rest of her life blaming herself for my death, and that thought alone crushed me.

On the flip side, the nightmare was finally over. Nylos had just told me that I was blessed with a second chance—to start fresh. To erase my past. To rewrite my story.

It should've felt thrilling. Liberating, even.

But instead… It scared me.

What if my next life was just a rerun of the last one? What if I was destined to keep meeting people who'd only leave me broken and hurt?

What if I ruined this godsent chance?

That kind of fear had claws. And it was already sinking into my skin.

But before I could let those thoughts swallow me, there was one nagging question I had to ask—something that had been clawing at the back of my mind since Nylos' reveal.

I looked at him, hesitation creeping into my voice.

That hellhound, I started slowly, It wasn't with you when I first got here. I knew it looked out of place. So… why was it in the Garden of Rebirth? And why the hell was it chasing me?

Nylos let out a chuckle, low and amused. "Nothing gets past your sharp wits, Cassandra Arlette."

He folded his arms, golden tattoos glinting faintly under the pinkish light.

"See, my father may be considering my redemption," he began, "but not all my family members are so willing to welcome me back with open arms. Necrosius being one of them."

"The god of death and ruler of the underworld doesn't believe in second chances. To him, Helion's plan was absolute—a soul is created, it lives, it dies, and it is judged. Heaven or the underworld. End of story."

"But now… Father has allowed me to select a few souls for rebirth. And Necrosius sees that as me stealing from him—his 'rightful denizens,' as he calls them."

Nylos's voice darkened slightly, like storm clouds drifting before dusk.

"He hates me for it. Despises the idea of my return. And just before father sealed me in here, Necrosius managed to sneak in a dozen of his children—monstrous creatures meant to hunt down and destroy any soul I choose."

"If I fail to prove that rebirth is worth it… if I have no success stories to show father… I'll be trapped here for eternity. Which is exactly what Necrosius wants."

He looked away, jaw clenched. "Helion promised to restore me as the god of reincarnation and ruler of the Liminal Realm—what this garden will eventually become. But my brother would rather let hell freeze over than see that happen."

I blinked at him.

…What in the petty family telenovela did I just listen to?

You mean to tell me that the big, scary ruler of hell was just an insecure man-baby, throwing a cosmic tantrum because his brother had the potential to outshine him?

That was the reason he was sending his stinking mutts after innocent souls?

That pig-headed jerk. He needs a reality check—stat. How dare he drag uninvolved people into his family drama? He needs therapy. Desperately.

Coming from a former ex-licensed psychoanalyst…that guy was a textbook titled delusional narcissism with a spot of main character syndrome.

Nylos stared at me like I had just sprouted wings out of my skull and flown away.

Then—he burst into a laugh. A real one this time. Not sardonic or bitter, but loud and unfiltered, like thunder rolling through clear skies.

"Pig-headed! Delusional!" he wheezed. "I doubt anyone's ever dared to call him that. Gods above—Cassandra, you are one entertaining enigma!"

I didn't expect him to be that tickled by my words. Oddly enough, in that moment, I felt fulfilled. Nylos had the kind of laugh I'd willingly listen to on repeat. It was deep and rich, almost musical in the way it echoed through the garden. I never imagined I'd say that about a non-human—much less a man.

I waited for him to come down from his mirthful high before holding his gaze, hoping he'd see the sincerity behind mine—see the quiet fire burning in my chest.

Seriously, Nylos, I said, voice soft but firm, I want you to win. To get out of here. To prove Helion wrong and make him realize that his so-called perfect plans aren't as solid as he thinks. And to rub your victory in that brat's face until he combusts from sheer humiliation and defeat.

Another laugh rumbled out of him, gentler this time, but no less amused. "So, you're willing to help me... by living your best next life?"

His smile was contagious, and without even meaning to, I found myself returning it.

I mean, it's not like I have much of a choice. I shrugged. But yeah. If I'm getting reborn, I want a better life for myself—even if you weren't nudging me into it. Helping you out? That's just the icing on the cake.

I tilted my head. So… what now? When does the rebirth happen? Do I need to do something special, or...?

Nylos gave me a knowing look, his gaze almost glowing with intrigue. "Remember the Great Interchange I mentioned earlier? The Corridor of Memories is your final stop before you're sent into your new life. It's where the Interchange happens."

Corridor of Memories, huh? That sounded like something out of a fantasy RPG.

How do we get there? And more importantly—none of Necrosius' demon dogs are hanging around that place, right? I really don't want a part two of the hellhound horror games.

With a low hum, Nylos' staff shimmered back into his hand. He extended his free one to me.

"If the Garden of Rebirth is the bank," he said, "then the Corridor of Memories is the vault where the soul's currency—memories—is stored. No one gets in except me and the soul that's to be reborn. I'm quite literally the key."

"And your guide."