My head hurt.
It was a deep, heavy pain, like someone had slammed my mind against a wall too many times.
I slowly opened my eyes.
The ceiling was gray.
I blinked several times before I could focus. When I turned my head, I realized I was lying on a large dark leather sofa.
In front of me was a wide desk covered with papers, and behind it a huge window overlooking the city illuminated by the night.
It took me a few seconds to understand where I was.
I rubbed my eyes, trying to remember.
And then…
I remembered.
The hands.
Dozens of hands pulling me toward the darkness.
The chaneques.
The scream.
"Iztli…"
The memory hit me like a hammer.
I jumped back on the sofa, trembling.
"The sleeping beauty has finally awakened."
The voice made me turn my head immediately.
Mictlantecuhtli was sitting behind the desk, holding a cup of coffee.
His green eyes watched me calmly.
But something about him was different.
His black hair was slightly messy, and his shirt was a little open at the collar, showing part of his chest and pale skin contrasting with the darkness of the room.
He looked… tired.
"How… did I get here?" I asked, my breathing still shaking.
He took a sip of coffee before answering.
"You're safe."
That wasn't exactly an answer.
"That's not what I asked."
"I know."
He stood up calmly from his chair.
"But first I need to know something. Are you alright?"
His voice was soft.
Too soft.
"Where is Iztli?"
The question came out almost like a whisper.
Before I could stand, a firm hand gently pushed me back onto the sofa.
"He's fine," Mictlantecuhtli said. "He's resting in another room."
I felt the air return to my lungs.
"He used a lot of energy," he continued. "But something that weak couldn't really harm him."
I looked at him in confusion.
"Weak? There were dozens of things attacking him!"
I remembered the pale bodies, the hands, the bites.
"They weren't dangerous for a guardian like him," he replied calmly. "The problem was the numbers. When there are too many, even someone strong loses mobility."
He paused for a moment.
"Besides… according to what he told me, there was something else there."
His words made the memories return.
The mannequins.
The eyeless man.
And the sack man.
My body started trembling.
Questions rushed through my mind.
What had all of that been?
Who attacked me?
Who was that "master" they spoke about?
Then I noticed something.
I was covered with a dark coat.
One that definitely wasn't mine.
Mictlantecuhtli followed my gaze.
"You needed warmth," he said naturally.
For some reason that made me more uncomfortable than I expected.
I stayed silent, trying to organize my thoughts.
Then he sighed.
"I think I owe you an explanation."
He adjusted his shirt, closing it a little.
"First… this is partly my fault."
I looked at him in surprise.
"Your fault?"
"Yes."
He approached the desk and extended a hand.
A small flame appeared floating above his palm.
But it wasn't a normal flame.
The light began forming figures.
Scenes.
"A long time ago," he began, "the gods were strong."
The fire figures showed temples, ancient cities, people praying.
"Because humans believed in us."
The images changed.
Temples collapsed.
The figures of gods faded away.
"But humans changed."
"They stopped believing."
"And when that happened… many gods began to disappear."
The flames showed shadows falling into the void.
"To survive, some of us decided to adapt."
The figures showed strange worlds.
Bright skies.
Paradises.
Spiritual cities.
"Some improved their heavens."
"Others appeared in human stories."
"Others inspired books, movies, or legends."
He looked at me.
"Because as long as someone remembers your name… you continue to exist."
The flames changed again.
The radio station appeared.
"Midnight Frequencies is part of that."
"A way for humans to keep talking about us."
"To remember that we exist."
That made sense.
But something in his voice changed.
"But not all gods agreed with that path."
The flames darkened.
"Some thought it was… degrading."
The fire figures showed shadows of furious gods.
"They believed humans should continue serving us."
"Not the other way around."
He walked to a shelf and pulled out several books.
He opened them on the desk.
The images appeared again in the flames.
Slenderman.
La Llorona.
Creatures of cosmic horror.
"Humans create things with their imagination."
"Stories."
"Fears."
"Monsters."
His gaze became serious.
"And when enough people believe in those stories…"
The flames showed a shape being born from darkness.
"Those things can become real."
A chill ran through me.
"So some gods decided to use those new entities."
"Control them."
"Feed them."
"And absorb their power."
The flames showed gigantic creatures.
Chaotic.
"We do the opposite."
"We eliminate them before they grow too powerful."
He picked up an illustration of a tentacled monster.
"Because if something like that were to fully be born…"
He looked straight into my eyes.
"Not even the gods could stop it."
My head was spinning.
Too much information.
Too many things.
Gods fighting.
Creatures born from human imagination.
And me in the middle of all of it.
"I…," my voice broke, "…I just wanted a normal life."
Tears began to fall.
"I just wanted to work… take care of my grandparents… study…"
The world suddenly felt too big.
"I want to go home…"
Mictlantecuhtli stayed silent for a few seconds.
Then he approached.
His hand touched my cheek with a gentleness that surprised me.
"I'm sorry."
His voice was low.
"But saving you was already a great effort."
"And I still have responsibilities to fulfill."
I wiped my tears.
"Thank you… but I'm leaving."
I stood up.
"You can't leave."
His tone changed.
It was still soft.
But now it was firm.
"We have an interview today."
"And it's important."
"But you said I had three chances to refuse," I replied. "I'm going to use one."
He sighed.
"This time I can't."
A contract appeared on the table in flames.
He pointed at a line.
"'The administrator also has three chances to deny rest to the interviewer.'"
I stared at him in disbelief.
"I added that for security."
I felt like spitting blood.
"You're a cheater!"
I thought he was a kind god.
But he was still a god.
I felt fear.
Real fear.
Suddenly something touched my lips.
A candy.
When I looked up, Mictlantecuhtli was wiping his mouth with a handkerchief.
"That will help."
"What did you do?"
"I gave you a little of my energy."
"It's not the same as the god of Fear… but it's enough."
The sensation returned.
The fear disappeared again.
But something different appeared.
Anger.
A cold anger directed at him.
"I'll do the interview," I said coldly.
"But don't you dare come near me again."
I watched his reaction.
He only smiled.
With a tenderness that irritated me even more.
I slammed the table.
The wood cracked.
Then I left the room, slamming the door behind me.
I didn't see what happened afterward.
Inside the office, Mictlantecuhtli collapsed onto the sofa.
He wiped his forehead.
"I used too much energy…"
His voice was barely a whisper.
"Interacting directly with the human world… is still difficult."
He looked at the door where Izel had left.
His smile disappeared.
And for a moment, his gaze became sad.
"I'm sorry…"
He closed his eyes.
"But saving you… was already a great effort."
And he still had to continue being the ruler of the underworld.