Darren stood alone upon the open deck of the Ferry, boots planted firmly against the cold metal as the ship carved its silent path through the cosmos, an ocean of ink with no stars in sight. The earlier chaos had quieted and the stillness that followed felt almost unreal. There was no wind here, no scent of salt or storm, no distant cries of gulls. The only thing he could hear or feel was the hum of unseen mechanisms and their faint tremor beneath his feet.

  They were traveling through space itself.

  He could hardly fathom it.

  Scholars in Hiraeth had argued for centuries about whether such a void above the skies even existed. Some had insisted that the heavens were a painted firmament that hung above the world. Others theorized distant realms beyond mortal reach, but they had spoken in abstract theory alone.

  This was real.

  Here he was standing upon a ship that sailed through that very abyss as naturally as any vessel upon the sea.

  In his hand, he held the Compass of Life. The arrow within had trembled slightly from time to time but eventually it stabilized, giving him direction.

  Darren’s eyes remained fixed on it.

  Through the Authority of Hades, the ship truly was in his control now. The vessel had answered him as though it recognized its sovereign. Doors had revealed themselves without hesitation. Corridors had unfolded clearly in his mind. He had known precisely where to find Charon’s quarters and just as Marianne had instructed, he had found the compass resting atop the former Ferryman’s desk.

  Within that room, the Wicked Witch of Humanity lay unconscious, her strength spent. He had tucked her into the bed in Charon's quarters. It was likely that it would be a while until she awoke from her slumber.

  That left him with questions and only one companion capable of answering them.

  “Avalon is known for being the most successful empire in all of humanity’s history.”

  Merlyn's voice could be heard clearly within his mind, its familiarity beginning to carve something resembling comfort into the hollowness surrounding him.

  “Many historians agree that it rivals even the reign of the Olympians who ruled until the times of Ragnar?k. Avalon's sword, however, is quite a broad term. It may refer to King Arthur’s Generals or even his armies.”

  Darren’s lips pressed into a thin line.

  The only other man in history who had slain the infamous Hydra.

  Marianne had chosen her words carefully when she had referred to him as the Sword of Avalon. Whether she had meant generals, armies, or something more personal, the implication lingered.

  “It is my assumption,” Merlyn continued, unperturbed by Darren’s silence, “that she referred to you in such a manner because you reminded her of someone from her past.”

  A past that remained a mystery.

  “But I will admit,” the System added after a brief pause, “how Marianne Elarion knows you still remains to be a mystery that my vast stores of knowledge is unable to solve."

  Darren could almost hear Merlyn thinking, still searching for a possible answer to explain this fallacy.

  "There have been no known sightings of you since your battle with Pallas. Your memory has not failed you.”

  At that, the man let out a slow exhale of what resembled relief.

  There were no missing fragments in his mind, no suspicious voids where something should have been. He had considered the possibility that something had been altered, that perhaps Marianne’s recognition had been rooted in an event he could no longer recall. But Merlyn’s assurance dismissed that fear.

  His memory had not failed him.

  Darren gave a faint nod, though there was no one to see it.

  He would never say it aloud but he was glad to have the System's presence. In a reality that defied logic, where ships sailed through starless voids, having a constant voice of reason mattered more than he wished to acknowledge. Especially now, when nothing seemed to make sense.

  The compass shuddered sharply in his hand, its arrow snapping a few degrees to the left. Darren adjusted the ship's course immediately, the Authority guiding the Ferry without visible effort. The vessel responded as though tethered to his will, gliding through the cosmic sea with silent obedience.

  Ahead of him, the arrow pointed them toward something unseen.

  The silence stretched for several heartbeats after Merlyn’s last reassurance, as though the System were allowing him space to breathe.

  Then, at last, the voice returned.

  “Your notifications were silenced during your departure from the Underworld. It was a decision I made to ensure that you were able to think clearly without any distractions.”

  Darren blinked.

  For a moment, he simply stared ahead at the void before him.

  When the System had been integrated into him, the sensation had felt invasive, like a foreign intelligence threading itself through his thoughts. He had subconsciously resented it at first. Darren hated the implication that something mechanical could observe, calculate, and intervene without his consent.

  Then, unexpectedly, he smiled.

  “Would you like to see them now?” the System asked.

  “Yes,” Darren answered without hesitation. “I would.”

  Multiple translucent screens flashed into existence across his vision, layered atop the cosmic expanse. They hovered at varying angles, lines of text cascading downward in crisp, glowing script. Notifications. Rewards. Updates. Achievements. The sheer volume of them might have been dizzying once.

  But Merlyn intervened again.

  One screen expanded abruptly, pushing the others aside as it enlarged until it nearly consumed his entire field of view. The borders sharpened and the text brightened.

  His Status Screen.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  "You have received the Rewards from completing the Mission Objectives for [ A Horse With No Name ]. Congratulations, Darren! You have leveled up once! Bonus EXP has been given for choosing your Pathway."

  // Name: Darren Ittriki

  // Threat Level: ERROR

  // General Level: 974 (+1!)

  Compared to the growth he had experienced during the Tutorial, it was slightly more modest. He had only leveled up once instead of twice. Still, progress was progress and he would not turn his nose up at it.

  But it was not his level that held his attention.

  It was his Mana Points.

  // MP (Mana Points): 499988 (-1) / 5500 (+250)

  // EXP (Experience Points): 200 (+500) / 210000

  The System had absorbed the magical energy contained within the Heart of the Hydra, giving him vast reserves to draw upon. He could still feel it now, this deep well within him that was his Pool of Mana filled more than just to the brim.

  And yet—

  As Darren watched, the number began to change in real time.

  -1.

  A minute passed.

  -1.

  His brow furrowed.

  He waited for another minute to pass.

  -1.

  The reserves were draining.

  He studied the rate of decline in silence, doing some calculations without Merlyn’s assistance. At this pace, the surplus granted by the Hydra’s heart would last months at best before his Mana Points fell to zero and that was assuming that he would not have to use the Divinity of Dissection against any enemies they might face on the journey ahead.

  He should not have been surprised by it.

  He knew that drawing upon the Authority of Hades required his own magical energy, no different from his own Divinity.

  Still, watching the slow erosion of something so precious made him feel a bit nervous.

  “Do you have another Mission for me, Merlyn?” Darren asked, unable to fully mask the note of hope in his voice.

  “I’m afraid I do not,” the System replied evenly. “To receive the subsequent Mission, you must first follow the Compass and arrive at your next destination.”

  The man's gaze shifted downward to the object in his hand.

  It looked ordinary, it was just a heavy metal compass, worn but functional. He had used countless instruments like it while traversing the seas of Hiraeth, navigating by North, South, East, and West. Those directions had been constants.

  This compass did not recognize such cardinal bearings. It pointed toward something else entirely.

  Life.

  The arrow trembled slightly as though straining toward it, drawn by an invisible thread woven through the fabric of existence. It was guiding him not to land, not to a city, not even to a realm defined by borders but to life itself. They were trying to find a place uncorrupted by the spreading darkness that had consumed the realms.

  The same darkness that had ended worlds.

  The same darkness Marianne had claimed to be responsible for.

  Darren’s jaw tightened slightly.

  There would be time for answers later.

  But the idea that one person—no matter how powerful the Wicked Witch really was—could be responsible for something so catastrophic was hard to believe.

  How was that even possible?

  The compass jerked faintly, urging the ship to the right.

  Within him, his Mana Points drained one point at a time while somewhere beyond the reach of corrupted realms and fallen worlds, something still lived. Darren adjusted the ship’s course yet again, aligning itself with the Compass of Life. If there were no new Missions yet, then this would be enough.

  For now, the search for Life itself would have to suffice.

  “Would you like to see your last notification, Darren?”

  Darren exhaled slowly, grateful for the interruption. His mind had been circling questions it could not answer—darkness, responsibility, dwindling reserves of power. And losing oneself in trains of thought out here might just mean death. He needed to stay focused. Just because he was getting the hang of using this Pathway did not mean that he could allow himself to get distracted.

  The Ferry of the Dead glided onward, encased within the protective vesicle Marianne had woven from a fragment of the Gates. Beyond it, clouds of darkness continued to press endlessly against the barrier, a corruption that had swallowed realms whole. That barrier would hold because of the Wicked Witch.

  Both of them had their own part to play.

  “Yes,” Darren said at last. “I would. Please proceed.”

  “Introducing to you, Autopilot. This is a Program that I have personally designed such that you may find greater convenience on this journey and the journeys that you will take in the future.”

  He raised an eyebrow.

  “A program?” Darren could not quite keep the skepticism from his tone but he nodded for Merlyn to continue.

  “As I’m sure you yourself have taken note of your depleting Mana Points,” Merlyn explained, “I am of the assumption that we shall reach the nearest source of life before that runs out. Your biggest worry is not whether you will have enough magical energy to survive the trip. It will be whether your mind can.”

  Another screen appeared before him now.

  // Activate Autopilot?

  // [ Yes ] OR [ No ]

  The simple choice hovered in his vision, luminous against the void.

  Darren stared at it without moving.

  Physically, the man was in peak condition. His body bore no tremor of exhaustion, his breathing even and his muscles not sore whatsoever. But when he examined himself more honestly, Darren could sense the strain beneath that surface composure. He had been alert for too long and it was starting to take a toll on his mental headspace.

  “Allow me to help you navigate this ship, Darren,” the System continued. “I will guide the Ferry of the Dead using the Compass as you rest and use the Authority of Hades to steer this ship true.”

  The offer was simple.

  Merlyn was asking Darren to trust him.

  His lips curved faintly.

  He thought of Hades, of the impossible gift of this machine that had been placed into mortal hands. He thought, too, of Thanatos who had been so reluctant to give it to him. He thought of the strange path that had led him here, sailing through the corpse of a universe toward something that still lived.

  He would have to thank them, if such a meeting ever came again.

  Some might have called him foolish for attributing character to something that called itself a System, an intelligence built from knowledge and calculation. But Darren had seen too much to believe that progress alone defined existence. No matter how far technology advanced, he was certain it could not fabricate what he sensed within the System.

  Merlyn had a soul. And that soul was a good one.

  The screen remained before him.

  // Activate Autopilot?

  // [ Yes ] OR [ No ]

  Darren lifted his hand in quiet acceptance that he did not have to shoulder every burden alone.

  He pressed [ Yes ].

  The interface dissolved immediately.

  “I would like that a lot,” he said softly.

  The Ferry adjusted its course with seamless precision, responding to calculations he did not need to make himself.

  “I’m in your hands now, Merlyn.”

  There was no fear in the admission.

  For the first time since they had departed the Underworld, Darren allowed his mind to ease, if only slightly, as the Ferry of the Dead sailed on through the cosmos.

  "It would be my pleasure, Darren."