Suddenly the world came to an end
The words dropped like a guillotine, which sliced the entire world into two perfect halves—what a coincidence that the apocalyptic guillotine seemed to strike perfectly in the center of his skull—and what a coincidence that only Hester seemed to see or feel it happen.

Hester scowls at the beautiful woman he saw before him, time leaving no physical mark on her immortal face. She seemed just the way Hester remembers—save for a hard glint in her eyes an edge like a spike in her charcoal gaze, it was nauseating and Hester had to look away after a moment.

Death was standing inside the remains of the pagoda; the roof miraculously stayed intact however every slight breeze made the whole structure shake and creak—it most likely wouldn't stay standing for long. The dark wood was burned into a brooding black—one that seemed far more intimidating than Hester would like to admit.

The veil was left open behind her, it continuously danced like it was submerged into water it occasionally fluttered open revealing the gate between this world and the void. Death gently glided away from it, allowing Hester to go first. He didn't move, instead narrowing his eyes at the Goddess daring her to break the question to him—stubbornly she did not.

After the silence stretched on far too long she hesitated for a moment then the veil opened fully she stepped through then waited on the other side. Hester walked up the stairs of the wooden pagoda and paused as he made his way to the end—the blinding abyss seemed more threatening than before, perhaps it always looked this way, and perhaps Hester was just now realizing it.

It seemed foolish to be following a Goddess—even more foolish to follow her into her own domain, still he closed his eyes trying—and failing to stop his wings from twitching. He knew once he stepped through—there was a chance, he wasn't coming back.

He stepped through still, his feet immediately hitting the floor leaving ripples on the void like water, Hester let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. Then slowly began walking to Death.

He didn't quicken his pace after it became a questionably long time that he had started walking, the dry air becoming an unforgiving and very familiar chill with it.

Hester stopped walking once he lost the feelings in his wings. "Stop it," Hester said, trying to sound threatening—he sounded more like a bothered child. Death was too far away to see her expression but Hester didn't care to know it and said. "If you're going to waste my time, go ahead the door is—" Hester turned his head just to realize the door had vanished, crossing his arms over his chest and mumbled too low for anyone to hear. "I hate this part."

After a moment of more walking he quickened his pace to a sprint, he lost the feeling in his hands and feet next, his eyes began to sting and Hester swears he hears the rattling of Alexander's house when the wind blows the shingles off the roof. His lungs burned with his eyes and Hester scowled as he felt his teeth chatter as he moved.

He still ran, he had done it once he could do it again—except he must be getting closer, why did she have to keep moving away? Hester stopped to catch breath—just for it to turn into dry coughing, the invisible wind blowing back his hair as he put his numb hands to his ears trying to block out the piercing silence, his ears began to ring and Hester wishes his feet made a noise every time they hit the floor—instead, all he could hear was his pounding heartbeat and shallow breathing.

He continued running not long after tripping and after a long torturous moment realized he couldn't get up, he pathetically clawed at the reflective ground like a helpless bird stuck in a cage because—he was, he was trapped and alone in this huge empty cage. He laid there for a moment glassy eyes down looking to the floor, his golden hair falling like curtains over his face, his wings ached and felt like they were being burned from the tips his ears and nose started to sting from the warmth of his breath as it fought with the biting chill.

"You are so close, Angel." The Goddess seemingly teased, Hester couldn't help but feel the slight tremble in her voice as she encouraged him onwards. With all the strength and energy he didn't have left he dragged himself slipping his hands in his pockets to try and concerns heat, he tried moving his wings to heat them up as well, but the feathers made a cracking sound everytime he moved them—he decided against it.

He kept fighting to stay conscience and not slip into the far more comfortable darkness as time seemed to ebb away—he wasn't getting closer, he was never going to get closer. This is going to be the rest of my life. Hester thought hopelessly Close enough to see greatness but never be a part of it.

He began the repetitive gripping to the non-existent indents on the floor then pulling himself over the gap of space his arm created.

He thought he had felt so much pain, that he had be close to Death time and time again—but this was not pain, this was agony—he was just about to close his eyes until he grabbed something in front of him it wasn't an indent but was also not solid smooth ground he looked up and saw, her.

Exactly like someone flipped a switch warmth erupted into his chest and lungs from all sides—like being hug all around he gasped and wheezed as he tries to smooth out his hitched breathing, he greedily gulped down air into his lungs, he smiled to himself that it was done, the worst part was over and was almost free.

He continued to pant and cough his senses slowly returning as the spots in his vision clear up and he looks exhausted up at the Goddess. Standing a few feet away from. He steps away from the Goddess, the warm feeling never fading, the feeling of gentle love seeming to cover the walls of the void, and Hester just now realized how much he hated it. Hated how after all this time the feeling never went away, how some nights he still felt cold and hollow the same as the first time, he never truly changed.

"Hello, my Angel—"

"Don't call me that."

Hester snapped, he didn't want to be here any longer, he didn't want to see her, this was some trick, some trap for him to cave and return back to his family. He could practically sense it, Death didn’t seem bothered by his tone or how this was the first time in months they had seen each other.

"Apologies, I believe people call you Hester now?"

Hester narrowed his eyes at her, a warrior Goddess and her rogue Angel, the loving warmth having no effect on him anymore, if anything it put him on guard.

"Don't call me anything, I won't be coming back anyways."

He spat at her, staying far away like she was sick with something, it was more so he didn't have to feel her presents too much, however he remembered a time when he would run up to her, wrapping his wings around her, it was a memory he wanted to forget.

"Do you know why I brought you here?"

Hester stayed silent, this was the first question she always asked, he has never said the correct answer—something told him, he would never get it right.

"I don't."

Hester said, annoyed, the place felt like seeing the ghost of someone long dead, a room with something missing—something wrong, but Hester couldn't quite find what.

"Everyone has missed you greatly."

Hester couldn't suppress a bitter laugh, it was dry and broken, something Hester knew looked uncharacteristic of him.

" 'Missed me?' Hester echoed as the Goddess shifted the ring on her finger uncomfortably. "Please spare me the fales comforts. You want something from me, what is it?"

"I want to know how you have been? Where are you living? What has been happening?"

'Why did you leave?'

Was left unsaid, both knew it was the main reason she asked him here tonight.

'Why did you leave me?'

"I'm fine, right now I'm living very far away, and nothing exciting has happened that I can think of."

Hester said quickly, lying through his teeth so much has happened from the start till now—Hester wouldn't even know where to begin. All he really wanted to know was: how much longer would he be asking idiotic questions? He could be with Wilbur right now.

"How far?"

"Far enough"

A beat of silence rang out Death looked out at the vest void, and gracefully kneeled into a sitting position, sitting with her legs holding her up. Hester stayed standing.

"Can I go?"

Hester said short and clipped, not even attending to keep any sort of warmth behind it.

"Mortals and Gods are very similar, both can feel the same emotions."

Death said softly, like employing a child to stop a tantrum Hester rolled his eyes, he didn't believe a word. He never really saw Death give any emotion of, well anything really—like Alexander in a way—wearing a mask but Alexander wore it from history, scars, memories—Death wore a different mask, one that never broke or fractured a mask of an all-knowing all-powerful God one that has the power to all life and death at their fingertips. And one that seems to not give a shi—

"I brought you here to talk, Angel. We need to talk about us—just us."

Hester rested his hand comfortably on the helm of his sword. Having no intention to reply, his wings tightly folded to his back.

"How have you been?"

"How have I been?"

Hester replied numbly immediately breaking his original intentions of not speaking, he couldn't keep the bitterness out of his voice, as he looked out to the abyss, the dry blinding mangled abyss that for his whole life he had been staring at. No supernovas or nebula illuminated the darkness, no shooting stars, no perfectly circular white moon—nothing.

Nothing at all.

"I've been. . ."

Should he tell the truth? Or make the time away feel less bitter and lonely? It had been so many things, wonderful, incredible, life-changing saccharin—and horrifying, disappointing, exhausting, time consuming. It was perfect—it was the best moment of his life, one he would treasure like a fossil preserved in amber, it was the worst times, he had never felt so lonely and lost before, it was perfect.

Hester didn't know what he should feel—didn't know what he should say, night after night he had dreams of this happening, and each time it was different one night he would cry and scream the next he would run and hide and now that he was actually here, here to do whatever he pleased he didn't know how to follow through with it—which was the right way?

"Angel, are you alright?"

Death asked quietly, trying not to disturb Hester too much. He blinked and slowly his senses began to come back to him, the thoughts falling through his head like trying to cup sand with his bare hands. There was one thing Hester hadn't considered when he came here.

He was an idiot.

Eyes glowed from around the two of them, not just two or three sets of eyes, five of them—and they were surrounded.

"What is this?" Hester asks shakily not really expecting a reply, the Shadow people growl in response their skin blended in like camouflage if it wasn't for the swirls of dark purple that they had in them—it would have been impossible to see anything but their freakishly big eyes.

Hester unsheathed his sword and held it high to his face, he didn't want to expect violence from this encounter but then again he didn't expect anything less.

He quickly counted the Shadows—he spotted five roughly before he dodged a jap to the side. One rushed up to him—Hester dispatched of it quickly, his blade screeching from the effort of being swung through the monster but it hit its mark perfectly. The blade cutting through one of the Shadow's hip eating away before exiting the other side, the Shadow pathetically fell before it could even react.

The other four were more interesting. They all had small daggers each with a blade made to have an agony filled end—though Hester wasn't really intending on getting stabbed. He parried moving and dodging effortlessly, taking his time to strike perfectly as one became vulnerable and he took the chance, the sword practically ripping through its shoulder and the rest crashing down on it. As expected no blood but it still stayed, lifelessly still laying in a heap on the ground.

Hester felt a sharp burning in his shoulder, he turned to see a small cut somehow the stupid Shadow missed completely. Hester couldn't fathom how, but still mercilessly let his blade meet the Shadow's chest—where it's heart would be if it even had one. It shattered like glass with the impact—practically bursted from it. Hester didn't wait to watch it fall or care to.

Hester moved back trying to find an opening—or an escape he couldn't find the latter, and half hearted felt bad for it—kicked the leg of a Shadow as it buckled to the floor trying to frivolously scramble away. Just as Hester was about to swing—he was caught off guard

Now fighting off the last one, the last remaining Shadow, he would say he felt bad—if it was remotely to the truth, it was not. Staying defensive waiting until it finally messed up or came to block sloppy and could get his chance. Like every other time, he thrusts the blade through its stomach and yanks it back out and watches as the spider web-like cracks start to form and watches as it tumbled to the ground no longing present in the land of the living. Then quickly finishing the other, after the world became painfully quiet.

Hester stayed like that for a moment looking down upon the shattered remains of something that was once living—breathing; he still felt the small regret from the first time.

He looked to the Goddess sitting quietly looking to the abyss not even seeming to register the carnage around her, she turned and smiled warmly showing her teeth the movement served only to unsettle Hester as he heaved for air waiting for his heart to stop beating so fast.

Death looked almost apologetic, her smile slipping as she asked "Are you alright, Angel?" Hester glared at her, his anger ten folded when the worry didn't disappear from the threat.

"Angel, you look exhausted," Death said sympathetically, seemingly unaware of the broken bodies around—or the freezing cold that swept by—or that it looked like they were standing on literal air.

"Is there something bothering you?"

Death asked, the silence that stretched seemed like it was about to break and fracture Hester's ears ringing with it like it was reverbing from the inside of his skull.

Hester opened his mouth then paused, and finally asked the single biggest question that has been on his mind for more than a decade.

"Will you mourn me, when I die?"

Hester looked up and met the Goddesses gaze, fully.

"If I were to say hypothetically, die tomorrow, would you be disappointed?"

Death opened her mouth to speak but Hester continued louder.

"Did you even mourn Tallulah, when she died? Did you even care about her?"

Hester didn't wait for a reply, he couldn't hold it in anymore, it's like his mouth after being sewed shut was fraying at the edges.

"Do you even care about me?"

And here it was at last, catharsis. Or at least something close to it.

"Did you ever care about me, at all? Did you ever once think of me as Hester? Or that I hated being an Angel? That I wished every time I fought someone it would be my last? How about me forgetting to eat or sleep? Did you ever worry about me? Or was I never a thought in your mind to begin with?"

Hester stopped to breathe, his wings spread out wide open his sword half sheath and looked ready to kill his one constant companion he has had since the beginning of his end.

"Angel,"

Death replied, barely moving her mouth, sitting as still as a stone statue.

"Why do you think I carry this around with me, if I did not care?"

She lifted her hand and Hester walked over confused, they were nearly next to one another as he saw what she was showing.

A golden ring, simple and old on the Goddess's middle finger, shining almost glowing in the darkness.

"If you need me to prove it, I shall." Death said gently Hester nodded his head silently.

Death plucked the ring from her finger, placed it in her palm and cupped it showing the ring to the sky. Hester stared confused for a moment, then Death said.

"Take it."

Reaching her hand towards Hester like she was feeding a bird with seeds in her hand. Hester paused, taking a step back, from just pure confusion.

"B-but, this is from—"

"Yes it was," Death said calmly "Think of it as 'from one Angel to another'." Death said relaxed Hester outstretched his hand to the ring and cradled it like he was holding the entire universe in his hand. It was made from gold and had writing on it too small to read or perhaps it was a different language. Either way it was beautiful, and Hester was about to put it on, when something caught his eyes and he couldn't look away from it.

A thin scar on his own palm, it was faded from time and age—over that scar was another, skin tissue slightly raised more than the rest making a difference mark on his hand; it was a little more visible a gouge from a hatchet—Alexander had given something to make it heal faster. Then Hester realized for the first time, he wouldn't have had his hand to cut to begin with if it wasn't for Alexander he had let him stay with him until his arm healed from the fire originally.

Hester paused thinking of everything Alexander had done—and even now—he was taking care of Wilbur until Hester got back.

His Wilbur.

His Wilbur.

He let the ring drop as he turned away looking down trying not to show the small tears forming at the side of his eyes. He heard the ring clank on the floor. Hester said quietly trying to sound calm—and failing miserably. "Take me home," He said, closing his eyes—he felt pathetic like a child getting lost and asking the first person he saw for help. "I want to go home now."

"Angel," Death said softly Hester felt a hand on his shoulder he brushed it off wrapping his wings around himself like he was cold.

"Angel, please" Death tried to continue Hester listened trying hard not to melt to the floor and begged. "Please, please let me go home." Hester whimpered like a dying animal, "Please, I just want to go—" His voice falters as he chokes back a curse or a prayer covering his eyes with his hands. "Angel, look at me, listen please." Hester nodded and the movement morphed into shaking.

"I can't let you go yet, I'm truly—"

"You. . . What?"

Hester stopped shaking, stopped hiding away, stopped crying. "You can't?" Hester said numbly, tears began to fill—however not of sadness but fear, as he tried blinking the stinging away asked harshly.

"Can't or won't?"

"Angel, please wait—"

"What did you do?" Hester asked incredulously then reiterated.

"What are you going to do?" No longer afraid of her, walking up to the Goddess Hester's eyes practically set ablaze, the fire that could not be stamped out grew in his heart—the rage only a parent could ever create.

"What did you do to my son?" It was barely a question—more of a threat—it was an understanding, an understanding between the two that she messed up for ever choosing Hester as her Angel.

Without warning Hester withdrew his sword from its sheath holding it with two hands and launched at the Goddess. In a fraction of a millisecond she parried using a scythe that miraculously appeared to Hester's dismay.

Hester went purely on offense cutting, kicking and slashing never once did he hit his mark all the while screaming, screaming, screaming until his lungs ached and throat sore but still he continued—sacrificing aim for strength he haphazardly walked forward grinding his teeth as the two weapons met and the hist of metal meeting metal erupted from them. It rang in Hester's ears but he didn't care—he didn't care about anything.

"—Angel, please let me explain—"

Hester paid her no heed as her sentence was cut short with another parrie Hester digging in his heels as he pushed on the blade. Then hopelessly swung at her.

"—you would have been killed, if—"

He swung faster, more and more dangerous, he knew he couldn't beat her, it wasn't about winning it was just to show a fraction of hatred he felt towards her, a small sliver of resentment to show the mistakes she's made. He hopes she regrets every moment he shared with her—he hopes every memory is tainted because of him. Every whisper is her hoping it's him so he can make sure it's not.

He hopes she lives the rest of her immortal life filled with strife and agony.

The Goddess looks to him showing something close to grief, as Hester was about to slice her in two—she parries and knocks the sword loose from his hands, it flying up in the air clattering loudly somewhere behind him. Though that barely stops him he balls up his hands into fist and swings at her, she catches it easily.

He falls to his knees after stopping screaming and choking on the air until he finally sputters out.

"I hope I die before I ever meet you again."

He looks up to the Goddess and grins looking more like a wild animal watching his prey limp away.

"I hope I never see you for as long as I live, you should be hoping for that as well because—"

He descends into a fit of coughs

"Because I. Hate. You."

He says it clearly, without a hint of remorse.

"And I will never ever stop hating you—for the person you made me become, for the years and years of my life wasted with you."

Death looked down, listening silently.

"Lifetimes of regrets and mistakes that are your fault."

He smiles up at her, glaring so hard she might wither away at any moment.

"So I hope this was all worth it"

He says his last words slowly one word at a time.

"Because I would rather die than be who you want me to be."

Death doesn't reply, Hester's vision was practically swimming with red, he couldn't see her face—he couldn't see her face without wanting to burn the whole Godsdamned world down with it.

Hester shakily got to his feet letting his hair cover his vision and retrieved his sword and silently put it back in its sheath looking slightly up and seeing the shimmering doorway to the world he so desperately missed being a part of.

He put his head down again and stopped just shy of the veil and said before he lost the nerve.

"Consider this my warning."

And walked straight through.

Death stayed there, watching the place he was last, and couldn't help but feel something close to regret.

She knows, in all her living though never truly alive.

That she did the right thing, and it was killing her.

"Do not be in fear, Hester."

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Art by (@shiosa4) on X
[I think this is the right art it two links sorry]
Here it is at long last, my favorite chapter! I know a lot happened in it, and Wilbur did disappear ಥ⁠_⁠ಥ but I think Lady Death being scolded is the best part lol anyway sorry if I broke any hearts, hope you enjoyed!
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