The ground shook, the air rumbled. Rocks fell from the cavern ceiling. The Iras were vanishing - Libitina could feel them, one by one, their energy flashing away. She stood still amidst all the tumult, staring out from atop the black spire of her tower.

It had been years, long years, since she had felt fear. Yet now, looking out from this high vantage she felt that icy hand of dread grip her.

She saw the giant wall of emptiness come surging towards her, here, at the center of the Underworld like a tidal wade of nothingness, and she knew now what had happened. The goddess turned and fled down the long dark spire, for once her chill heart pounding. She reached the center chamber, her core being tugged and torn by the short screams of souls thrown into Oblivion.

Here she found them - her nephew looked up at her approaching footsteps, questions and fear in his eyes. The other merely looked around in bewilderment.

"Come," she said, and both followed. They entered the temple and Libitina positioned the two men about the altar, their eyes following her as she cast the spell to the last moment when they vanished.

Heavy masonry stones began to crumble down from the ceiling and she glanced up to notice - there was no ceiling. There were no walls.

There was only Darkness, then Oblivion.

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