Being the king of the underworld was not as simple as many imagined.
It was not only about ruling over the dead.
He had to supervise the constant flow of human souls arriving in the underworld every day. He also had to negotiate with the different kings of other underworlds regarding the fate of those souls.
In ancient times, every culture had its own god of the underworld.
And as long as humans believed in that religion, those souls belonged to that god.
Each one had their own domain.
Some received thousands of souls.
Others barely received a few.
There were times when so many arrived that we even asked other underworld gods for help managing them.
But the human world changed.
Over time, humans stopped believing in many gods and religions. Some minor deities simply disappeared. Others weakened until they became shadows of what they once were.
Now something new existed.
The White.
A neutral place.
A kind of waiting room where the souls of those who did not truly believe in any religion would arrive.
Before, only ten percent of souls ended up there.
Now…
It was almost forty percent.
That forced the gods of the underworld to do something that would have been unthinkable in the past.
Send representatives to the White to convince souls to choose their kingdom.
Because the number of souls inhabiting your underworld directly defined your power.
Before, the gods decided who could enter our domains.
Now…
We were salesmen.
Sellers of eternities.
Each one trying to convince souls that their heaven or their underworld was the best destination.
Traditions adapted. Myths softened. Some gods even completely redesigned their realms to make them more appealing.
That was the reason Mictlantecuhtli was meeting with two old acquaintances.
Tláloc, god of rain.
And Tonatiuh, god of the sun.
"How am I supposed to compete with that?" Tláloc complained. "A Buddhist god just took seven hundred souls because he allows them to reincarnate as whatever animal they want."
"Relax," Tonatiuh replied with a tired smile. "Why don't you create a water park? After all, you're the god of rain."
Tláloc looked at him indignantly.
"A water park? My realm is already full of gardens, lakes, and water caves. It was the perfect place to rest and be happy. But since that culture spread across the world… now I have to compete for souls."
He sighed.
"Although I suppose I could modernize it a bit more."
Tonatiuh laughed.
"You should follow my example. I created a fantasy-novel-style world: conquests, dungeons, heroic quests. Humans become legendary adventurers."
"Of course," Tláloc replied sarcastically. "Just like the Norse underworld that became famous because of a novel and now attracts thousands of souls with free alcohol and beautiful warrior women."
"Shut up."
Mictlantecuhtli sighed.
The situation was absurd.
Humans were choosing their destiny based on stories, novels, or fantasies. Some gods presented themselves as benevolent saviors. Others turned their realms into artificial paradises.
Fortunately, his own domain did not require that much publicity.
The underworld he governed still functioned under clear rules.
Souls were divided into three paths:
Those who deserved to ascend.
Those who deserved punishment.
And those who needed redemption.
The souls seeking redemption faced trials to purify their sins and be reborn.
That system also existed in the Greek underworld of Hades or in certain hells.
In essence, those worlds functioned as filters.
A place where souls confronted their mistakes before having another chance.
Mictlantecuhtli even had his own city in the underworld.
A strange city.
Technological.
But mixed with mythological creatures.
Nine-tailed foxes who could transform into humans.
Tanukis who walked among mortals.
Lesser demons.
Many of those creatures had been left homeless when the temples that sustained them disappeared in the human world.
Hades had done something similar with vampires and beast-men.
The world of the gods had become chaotic.
Everyone was fighting not to disappear.
"Hey," Tláloc suddenly said. "Do you think you could make some advertising space in your radio program?"
Mictlantecuhtli smiled.
—Of course. But you'll have to pay me with a zone of water caves.
Tláloc nearly choked.
"What?! Do you know how much it costs to create something like that? Besides, where would I even get that much water?"
"Use liquid night essence. Nyx gave me an artifact that converts dimensional darkness into water. Just modify it."
Tláloc fell silent.
He was impressed.
"…Fine. I'll do it."
All the gods knew how important that radio program had become.
It was a way to promote their realms.
To gain souls.
But Tonatiuh intervened.
"Be careful. You know that if any sealed beast escapes, we'll all have to deal with it."
Mictlantecuhtli knew that.
The disappearance of gods did not mean their creatures disappeared as well.
Many of those beasts were independent entities.
Every culture had left sealed monsters behind.
And modern humans kept creating new ones.
The dark stories they imagined could materialize.
Lovecraft.
Warhammer.
Many believed they were only fiction.
But some beliefs were beginning to take form.
That was why the gods constantly kept watch.
To prevent something from being born that even they could not control.
At that moment, someone knocked on the door.
"Boss… Izel has arrived."
The voice echoed directly in his mind.
Mictlantecuhtli ended the meeting quickly.
And reappeared in his office.
He calmly adjusted his coat.
"Let her in."
The door opened slowly.
A short girl entered, with brown hair and a sweet smile.
Izel.
Ever since the god of Fear had altered her emotional perception, she had appeared in his office every day.
That had been four days ago.
And every day… she came to see him.
"Mictlantecuhtli, you look very handsome today," she said as she walked in without asking and sat on the edge of his desk.
He raised an eyebrow.
"What are you doing here today? I thought you didn't like seeing me."
A faint smile appeared on his face.
He knew perfectly well that when the effect of fear disappeared… the girl would probably die of embarrassment remembering all of this.
"Hate you?" she said, tilting her head. "Who would hate a handsome guy like you? If you weren't a dark god… maybe I would have even fallen in love with you."
Mictlantecuhtli let out a small laugh.
"And who says I'm a handsome guy?"
He snapped his fingers.
A cloud of green energy surrounded him.
When the light faded, standing before her was a tall woman, about one meter seventy-five, with long black hair falling to her waist. Her presence was elegant, almost hypnotic.
"What do you think of this appearance?" she asked calmly. "Am I still a handsome guy?"
Izel observed her for a moment.
Then she shrugged.
"I don't mind. I like it."
And without any embarrassment, she gently pulled her closer and rested her head against her chest.
"Hehe… soft."
Mictlantecuhtli sighed.
The girl was completely uninhibited.
She wasn't drunk.
She wasn't out of control.
She simply… had no fear.
No social limits.
No filters.
He didn't fully understand what exactly the god of Fear had done, but it had clearly dislocated something deep in her mind.
Even so, he raised a hand and began gently stroking her head.
Without thinking about it too much.
There was something about her.
Something familiar.
Something he could not ignore.
Many years ago, his wife had disappeared. Not exactly dead… but her essence had fragmented after crossing certain planes of the underworld.
For centuries he searched for traces of that energy.
Until he found it.
In a human.
In this girl.
That was why he had allowed her to work at the radio station.
That was why he kept watching her.
But even now… he wasn't sure what it meant.
"Alright, move away," he finally said, separating her slightly. "I'm your boss, remember?"
Izel stepped back.
She looked him up and down with a mischievous smile.
"The cold boss look suits you."
"Oh really?"
"Yes."
She crossed her arms, tilting her head.
"Did you like it?"
"What?"
"My comment."
Mictlantecuhtli narrowed his eyes.
"No."
"Liar."
"I don't dislike you as much as I did at the beginning," she said without any filter. "But I wouldn't say I like you either."
She paused.
"I just… feel comfortable with you."
The words came out with brutal naturalness.
No calculation.
No defense.
No fear.
And that irritated him more than it should have.
"Leave already."
Before she could answer, the office door opened by itself and an invisible force gently pushed her into the hallway.
The door closed.
Silence returned to the office.
Mictlantecuhtli dropped into his chair.
He rested a hand on his forehead.
"Could it really be her…?"
The question faded into the air.
Was she the reincarnation of that person?
Or simply an echo of something he had loved too long ago?
He had no answer.
And that… irritated him more than any rival god.
But one thing he did know.
When fear returned to Izel…
That moment would be interesting.