A thick mist crawled across the dank earth, which sank under the footfalls of a figure cloaked in black. The moon hung overhead, its ethereal luminescence bathing everything in pale light. branches stretched towards the sky, trying desperately to touch it, as thick vines wound around their roots and slithered across the dirt.  

Tiny golden lights flickered in and out of sight as a strong wind spread them around, like thousands of embers after a raging fire had been put to rest. Insects found their homes in the crevices of tree trunks and disembodied spirits peaked out of the shadows, all watching and quivering as the creature traipsed pass them.

It had the countenance of Death, eyes hollow where there should be life, staring into oblivion. Its face was like a skull carved into diamond, the moonlight beaming off of it sending piercing blades of silver light into the darkness. Mournful cries rose all around as it made its way pass dunes of indistinguishable corpses, the black fabric of its robes gliding over those in its path. The hollow husks glared up at it, spiting the specter’s apathy as it continued on without them, forgetting their existence.

But oh, how could he? The face of every soul ripped from paradise, the sound of every desperate plea and wrenching scream, the cut of wind from every swing of his scythe: Sanghyuk never forgot. 

The moans were getting louder, and the souls were gathering, reaching out to clutch his robes. They wailed as their hands fell through his form, unable to touch, unable to cling to whatever lie they told themselves in misery about how to escape this hell.

That helplessness brought Sanghyuk joy. In his countless centuries as a servant of Death, that was only of very few things that ever could. He loathed being commanded, where instead he could see himself seated on a throne of thorns wearing a crown of bones. He hated spending half his days toiling away in a human’s dreamland until something exciting happened. 

Sanghyuk loved the little games he played with the souls, toying with their fear and the power of knowing something they could never fathom. Another soul reached out, falling to the ground as he crushed a skull under his foot. He was seething behind his mask and even that could not make him crack a smile.

Taekwoon ruined his fun       

A path opened up before him, the smooth pavement lit by the moon. It looked like a road leading nowhere, rising from the remnants of death and into a large blue orb where it disappeared. The cries of souls started to quiet down and Sanghyuk had only the tiny pyres dancing about as company as he walked on. The closer he got to the orb, the more tranquil it became. He was no longer trekking through a dark forest, but instead traveling down a road leading him through a world of stars, fireflies and specters dancing happily under the moon.

When Sanghyuk finally breached the threshold of the orb, he was almost blinded by the light. It was like being on the moon, a vibrant blue light blanketing everything, surrounded by thousands of stars stretching across time and space. When he took a step forward, his feet hit water. Nothing soaked them, yet his sandals glided through it as if walking across the shallow edge of a vast lake, the ripples obscuring a mirror-image of the galaxy above him.

More tiny spirits leapt across the water, hundreds of incorporeal beings dancing in merriment, producing tiny ripples of their own as they all flocked towards a single source. At the center of the lake a large slab of stone protruded out of the water.

Taekwoon sat with his legs crossed, his clothing made of midnight blue silk that fit loosely against his slim frame. His back was turned to Sanghyuk as he stared up at a grand oak, which stood so tall that its reflection loomed over Taekwoon and reached Sanghyuk’s toes. It was an ancient tree, one whose bark etched out stories from times long before presidents, kings, or any organized civilizations. Its crown was lush, which emitted a fresh, earthy fragrance that made Sanghyuk envision green pastures as far as the eye could see. The spirits climbed its body, melting into the wood and disappearing into its foliage, creating a glow all their own, mystifying the tree and creating a godly glow around Taekwoon.

“Come, Hyuk.”

The power in Taekwoon’s voice made Sanghyuk feel small and weak in a way he hated. It was then that he also realized that his grim façade had been ripped away, making him feel even more vulnerable. His clothes were simple, black silky slacks and a white button-up shirt. He reached for his hair, which now lay flat atop his head in a boyish fashion.

“Ya,” he growled. “Who told you to do this to me?”

Taekwoon chuckled and spun around on his pedestal. His hair was the same as always, long black locks and an unkempt fringe that fell in front of his sharp eyes.

“Don’t blame me. Blame the cosmos,” he said gesturing upwards. “It reveals all.”

Sanghyuk mumbled something spiteful under his breath about the cosmos his as he marched across the water, spirits fleeing to get out of his path.

“Besides,” Taekwoon started as he came closer. “The look suits you.”

“Oh yeah,” Hyuk scoffed, “and what look is that?”

Taekwoon’s smile melted and Sanghyuk could feel fear crawling up his spine as he came face to face with the Death God. His expression shifted into something much darker. It made the space around them feel as cold and distant as the moon could ever be on a dark night on Earth.

“The look of a child,” Taekwoon snarled.

Sanghyuk fell to his hands and knees, his eyes meeting Taekwoon’s feet. He started to tremble, feeling helpless against the power and command of the superior god.

“Souls are not toys. They can’t get put back together once you break them. You know this yet you still- “

“B-but I didn’t!”

Hyuk hated the sound of his own voice, cracking and shaking under the pressure of something he could not fight. He hated this powerlessness, this weakness.

He hated feeling human.

“Oh, but you did,”

Hyuk’s breath caught in his throat when Taekwoon’s cold fingers lifted his chin, swallowing hard when he came face to face with the cold steel in the eyes of the Death God.

“You have been placed in a privileged position, even given a companion to toil away with.”

Hyuk was taken aback by the bitterness in Taekwoon’s voice and something akin to sadness in his cold eyes. But more than that, he was being confronted with the possibility of Hongbin being taken away from him, something he had the liberty of never contemplating.

Hongbin made his tiresome duty more tolerable. He made such lifeless days waiting for the guardians to mess up judgements so much more bearable. In a realm where peace was fabricated, Hongbin made it feel real. If he didn’t have Hongbin, he would spite the universe for not leaving him crying helplessly with the other miserable souls down in the depths of the Underworld.

Taekwoon’s hand slipped away as he turned away from Hyuk and back towards the elder tree.

” We all answer to the cosmos,” Taekwoon warned, “If you keep this up, you won’t like what it will have to say.”

Sanghyuk climbed to his feet, staring at his superior’s back. If their roles were reversed, would his words of caution be invalidated? Would his threat sink into nothing like the shapeless souls that sank into the cosmic lake surrounding them?

“The answer to your question is no,” Taekwoon said, disrupting his thoughts, “You don’t wanna be like me.”

Hyuk walked away without a response. As he reached the edge of the lake, his clothes started to form around him. Black silk glided across the water, and the boy disappeared behind the menacing platinum skull. Hollow eyes focused forward as he descended from the moonlit realm and returned to the Underworld. The light faded and the cries of the dead flooded his ears once again, soothing his wounded pride.

Surrounded by unending suffering, and knowing that his Hongbin was waiting for him back in Shangri La, Sanghyuk could abandon the threat of something not guaranteed to come to fruition. His usual devilish grin eased its way back onto his face and a malicious cackle rose from his throat and escaped his lips, which echoed in the darkness along with thousands of mournful cries.

He wasn’t aware that the roots of the ancient oak quivered, that its mammoth branches swung in a frenzy of power and rage. He didn’t know that the waters twisted in gaping whirlpools, dragging some of once frolicking sprites doen into oblivion. That Taekwoon was cowering and sobbing in fear, pleading for his soul, because he knew more than anyone that once you’ve sullied a blessing bestowed upon you by the universe; you will surely regret it.