Dawn Walker-Chapter 58: Shadows of a God

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The road out of the forest did not feel like victory.

It felt like permission.

Sunlight slid between twisted branches, warmed the stone, and made the dead woods look less like a graveyard and more like a place that simply hated visitors. Sekhmet walked in front, steady pace, eyes scanning the trail. Lily walked slightly behind him at first, then beside him when the morning proved quiet. Bat Bat fluttered overhead in lazy circles, occasionally diving low to peek at a suspicious bush like it expected a monster to be hiding there out of spite.

Flap... Flap... Flap...

The silence from the kobols continued.

No distant howls.

No barking chatter.

No scraping claws on stone.

Sekhmet did not trust it, but he accepted it. Purgatory was not the kind of place that explained itself.

After a few hours, Lily’s patience finally ran out.

"Sekhmet," she said, voice calm but persistent, "about that storage."

Sekhmet’s shoulders tightened slightly. He did not turn his head. He only kept walking.

"What about it," he asked.

Lily exhaled, as if she had been holding the question inside her since the moment she woke in the void land.

"When you brought me there," she said, "we were standing on... ground."

Sekhmet glanced at her briefly.

"Yes," he said.

Lily frowned.

"That is not how storage tools work," she said. "Pocket dimensions in Null are simple. Empty. Dark. Just space. You put things in, you take things out. They are built like boxes."

Sekhmet said nothing.

Lily kept going, voice growing sharper with curiosity.

"Some rare ones allow physical entry," she added. "But they are small. A room. A chamber. Maybe a house-sized vault if you are a noble with terrifying money. But yours..."

She looked at him, eyes narrowed.

"It was land," she said. "It had distance. It had sky, even if the sky felt strange. It felt like stepping into an actual place, not a storage."

Bat Bat swooped down and landed on Lily’s shoulder for one second like it was listening.

"Big box," Bat Bat said confidently.

Lily stared at the bat.

"That is... not wrong," she admitted, then looked back at Sekhmet. "Explain."

Sekhmet’s mind moved fast.

He had already decided he would not reveal the truth until they reached the city. The fewer people who knew about abyss-class artifacts and gods gifting him, the safer he remained. Null was filled with powerful beings, but it was also filled with greed. Lily was not greedy, but information had legs. Information walked. Information got stolen.

He chose a half-truth that would survive scrutiny.

"I did not buy it," Sekhmet said.

Lily raised an eyebrow.

"I can tell," she replied. "Your coat looks like it fought a war with poverty."

Sekhmet ignored the insult like a professional.

"I found it," he said. "Accident. A relic."

Lily’s pace slowed slightly.

"A relic," she repeated.

Sekhmet nodded once.

"A relic related to the Void God," he added.

That made her stop.

Bat Bat nearly crashed into her head.

Flap—!

"Void," Bat Bat whispered as if the word itself was dangerous.

Lily stared at Sekhmet, then continued walking, but her expression changed. It became cautious.

"You mean John," she said.

Sekhmet kept his face neutral.

"That is what people call him," he replied.

Lily’s lips tightened.

"You are insane," she said.

Sekhmet looked at her.

Lily gestured sharply with her hand, as if pointing at the sky might summon bad luck.

"Do you know what they say about him," she demanded. "They say he destroyed cities. Whole cities. Not just armies. Not just enemy leaders. Cities."

Sekhmet’s stomach tightened.

He had heard the legends too. Every child in Null heard them. Stories became discipline. Fear became education.

Lily continued, voice lowering as if the forest might be listening.

"People say he killed gods," she said. "Not weak ones. Not wandering pretenders. Actual gods. And he wiped out the populations under them. Entire bloodlines. Entire temples. Entire streets full of people who did not even know why they were dying."

Sekhmet’s throat went dry.

Lily added with a grim, almost annoyed look, "And I heard he keeps a harem. A ridiculous one. Like he collects women the way merchants collect rare coins."

Bat Bat perked up.

"Coin women," it said brightly.

Lily stared at the bat again.

"Your pet is strange," she muttered.

Sekhmet felt the forest tilt slightly.

Not physically.

Mentally.

The idea struck him like a sudden cold hand: "What if the Void God can see me. What if he is listening?"

Sekhmet’s steps faltered for half a heartbeat.

Lily noticed immediately. "What. Are you scared now," she asked.

Sekhmet forced himself to keep walking.

"No," he said quickly.

Then, because panic made him stupid, he did what he always did when nervous.

He talked too much.

"Legends exaggerate," Sekhmet said. "People add drama. If he destroyed those cities, there must have been reasons. Gods fight. Politics exist. Sometimes entire realms pay for the mistakes of one ruler."

Lily’s brows rose.

Sekhmet continued, voice hurried.

"And a harem," he added, "does not automatically mean evil. Maybe he protects them. Maybe they choose him. Powerful men attract followers. That is how Null works."

Lily stared at him with the expression of someone watching a man try to defend a hurricane.

"You sound like you want him to adopt you," she said flatly.

Sekhmet swallowed.

"I sound like I want to live," he replied.

Lily snorted softly, but her eyes remained sharp.

"You found a relic of his," she said. "And it just... gave you a void storage."

Sekhmet nodded.

"That is what relics do," he said. "They leave gifts behind. Sometimes they leave curses. I got lucky."

Lily’s gaze narrowed suspiciously.

Then she sighed.

In Null, luck was not impossible. It was just rare and unfair.

"That is believable," she said reluctantly. "In a disgusting way."

Sekhmet did not respond. He was too busy trying not to imagine the Void God’s attention turning toward him like a blade.

That was when the system spoke.