"You idiot!"

She opened her eyes.

Byleth blinked, thinking her eyes not working. But after repeated attempts, she still saw nothing. Looking up, she saw Sothis, her ever constant tag-along, sitting atop a stone throne.

"You absolute buffoon!" she screamed, her shriek vibrating Byleth's eardrums.

"Where are we?" Byleth asked, standing up from the ground where she lay.

"Where are we?" scoffed Sothis. "How could I have such a fool of a host, who would walk knowingly into a trap thinking that she were invincible?" Sothis vanished, reappearing in front of Byleth at eye level.

"You, Byleth Eisner, are reckless to a fault with an utter disregard of consequence," she accused.

Byleth scowled. "Complaining about how I act isn't going to fix this. Where the hell are we?"

"Oh, now she wishes to confer with me? Ignoring my advice about this trap just like you ignore me regularly?" Sothis disappeared.

Her voice resounded throughout the black void, as if inside her head again. "Suffer in this hell, see if I care."

"Sothis!" Byleth called.

There was no answer.

"Childish brat," Byleth muttered. She looked around the expanse of nothing, the throne having vanished as Sothis had.

She walked forward, gingerly holding a hand out to feel anything before she could run into it. But there was nothing. In fact, it didn't even feel warm or cold. It just felt…empty.

"Hello?" Byleth shouted. She tried a few more times to no avail, voice not echoing at all. It simply ended after she spoke.

A cold pit opened her stomach. This place…she was in over her head. Perhaps Sothis was right.

Byleth huffed. The girl—Goddess—was being childish. She hadn't asked to have someone live in her head, overlooking every single thing she did, providing commentary on every action she made. Was it wrong to want some damn peace and quiet, to have her thoughts her own?

And she'd killed Kronya. Her lust for revenge was sated. How was she supposed to know she'd fall into a black void upon killing her? That wasn't something that just happened to people on whims. She'd ignored Sothis' advice and Sothis had stopped badgering her.

Perhaps angering a Goddess wasn't the best idea.

But if she really were a Goddess, why hadn't she done…something resembling what a Goddess should do? Not that Byleth exactly knew what that ought to be, but it had to be something aside from speaking in her head. Something with flash, she supposed. From the way Marianne and Mercedes spoke about the Goddess, she was capable of anything and everything.

If Sothis was a Goddess, why was she so angry that they were in this mess? Could she not just warp them out of wherever here was?

"And a Goddess wouldn't lose their memory," she murmured to herself. The thought didn't comfort her.

So Byleth began to walk, searching for anything. Surely there would be something after a while.

But there wasn't.

She walked for an hour. Then two. Then more.

Then she lost count of how long it'd been. But she kept walking, despair growing.

Byleth stumbled to the ground, tripping on her own feet. How long had she been going? There was absolutely no way to tell. Sothis was right to call this a hell. Even the Eternal Flames would be better than this.

Was she stuck here forever? Stuck with nothing but an angry supposed-Goddess?

"Sothis?" she called out nervously.

There was, of course, no response.

Byleth folded her legs inward, curling into a ball. Her breathing was so loud, amplified by the silence. In. Out. In. Out. Constant. Maddening.

"Sothis?" she called out again, louder. "Can we talk?"

No response.

She laid there for a time shorter than infinite and longer than she could handle. Byleth did not grow hungry, nor did she grow tired. She felt suspended, like her body merely…persisted instead of lived.

With the Sword of the Creator, she slid it along the back of her hand, drawing a shallow cut. When she blinked, the cut vanished as if it never were there, an utter absence of pain.

It took her a period of time she could not quantify to realize the real horror of the situation.

This was not a void, this was a prison.

"Figured it out?" Sothis mused, though she did not reappear.

"Sothis!" Byleth cried. "We need to get out of here, this place—"

"I did not exaggerate when I called this hell," Sothis said, as if not hearing Byleth. "I created this place, Zahras. It was a prison for those that opposed me a long time ago."

"How do we get out?" Byleth pushed, voice cracking.

But Sothis did not respond. Byleth called out several more times and got no response.

Byleth ran through drills with her blade. Just as she did not suffer wounds, she did not tire. It was the only thing to keep her sane.

Her muscles did not develop any further. She couldn't even have the satisfaction of getting stronger. But nevertheless she persisted, practicing complex maneuvers with her whip-sword.

It staved off the nothing for a time, but there were only so many hours that could be occupied with honing technique.

There wasn't the joy of rest either. She didn't grow tired. Sleep never came to her, as much as she tried.

Byleth fell to her knees. "Sothis, please," she begged.

There was no response.

She didn't know when the hallucinations began. They mixed with memory, a dangerous concoction.

They flitted in and out of her vision without rhyme or reason. Her students took up most of them. They were always smiling, speaking without sound. When she reached out to them, they disappeared.

Byleth sat on the ground, as she had for the past span of time of which she had no length for. She rarely trained now, instead brushing her fingertips up and down the Sword of the Creator. It had texture, something she could feel. Something that reminded her she was alive.

"I am the Beginning," Sothis said, looking down at her.

Byleth shivered under her gaze, her back still feeling warm from where the bandit's axe had struck her. Was blood seeping through her clothes? Was the girl she'd saved alright?

"You are a strange one," Sothis said, looking down at Byleth. "Your name, what is it?"

"Byleth," she croaked.

"Hmm, an odd name for sure," Sothis mused. "But you mortals have always had the penchant for oddities like that. Though…how is it that I know that?"

"Where am I?" Byleth asked, looking around the dimly lit green room that housed the stone throne Sothis sat upon.

"I shall admit, that is a good question. My memory…I do not seem to remember where we are," she said, a brief look of horror passing over her face. "Indeed, my memory is gone."

Byleth opened her eyes and saw the scene she'd seen before, a bandit running with an axe towards Edelgard. She started to run, but stopped herself, confused.

The bandit got to Edelgard, burying the axe in her side. But he was close enough for her to dig the dagger in her hand into his clavicle.

He howled in pain, dropping the axe and falling to the ground, scrambling away as he tried to stop the bleeding.

Edelgard swore and dumped a vulnerary onto the wound for a messy fix. She looked at Byleth with anger. "Some help you were, mercenary."

"Sorry," Byleth breathed. "I just thought…"

"Your inaction speaks of ineptitude," scowled Edelgard.

Byleth looked down as Edelgard walked away.

"So quiet. So quiet. So quiet. So quiet. So quiet. So quiet. So quiet. So quiet. So quiet. So quiet. So quiet. So quiet. So quiet. So quiet. So quiet. So quiet. So quiet. So quiet. So quiet. So quiet. So quiet. So quiet. So quiet. So quiet. So quiet."

Do you not care for my input? According to everyone I am a Goddess, my advice is valuable.

"I never asked for someone to live in my head. If it's a trap, it'll work itself out."

Grow up, Byleth, this is the circumstance we're in, we need to make our best of it. And that comes with understanding that I can see what we're walking in to.

"I'm going to kill my father's murderer."

At the cost of our life? My life is tied to yours, you fool.

"I've made my decision."

You've gotten reckless. You'll get killed. It is so obviously a trap.

"I don't care what you think. Go bother someone else who cares."

Would that I could, this isn't a vacation for me. Living in your head and watching you make poor choices is not my idea of entertainment.

"Just stay quiet. This is my life."

If only your students knew how stupid you are. You have a death wish.

She cried. She did that a lot.

The line between reality and her hallucinations had blurred. Not even all her hallucinations were of real events anymore.

Sothis hadn't spoken to her again. Or maybe she had and she'd thought it a trick in her mind's eye.

Byleth had absolutely no way of knowing.

Claude sipped at his tea. "Surely you've noticed, By."

"No," she said.

He stood up, bending down and kissing her. "I've never loved someone more than you."

"We lost the mock battle, you still think this house is worth transferring to?"

Mercedes smiled at her. "Yes, yes I do."

Petra pressed the blade against her throat. "You're a fool, Eisner."

Byleth buried the blade she held in Petra's stomach. The princess snarled.

Byleth screamed.

"Something wrong, kid?" Jeralt asked.

Byleth stood up, breathing heavily. It was all she could hear.

"Woah, kiddo, you've gotta calm down. You're panicking, just tell me what's wrong."

"Everything!" She screamed again, taking the Sword of the Creator and separating it into its whip form. Taking the tip of the whip, the pointed blade, she jabbed it into her stomach to feel something, anything.

When she pulled her hand back, there was no wound and she felt nothing.

"It's alright, By. Deep breaths. Your mother would be proud of you."

"There's a way to get you out of here," Sothis said, her lip curling with distaste. "It isn't something I'd prefer."

Byleth said nothing. She hadn't said anything for a long time.

"I'd fuse my soul with yours. To be frank, I believe that is what slowly has been happening to you this whole time since I awoke. Rhea did something to put me in your head."

Byleth said nothing.

"You're a drunk, obsessing with your students to forgo caring for yourself. To do this I would obliterate my free will. Tell me, why should I do that for you?"

Nothing.

"I apologize for being angry that you were shutting me out. I know having a person in your mind isn't easy. I can forgive you for not talking to me, that isn't the reason why I'm furious. But knowingly walking into a trap? You have damned me to this choice, to give up my very being."

Nothing.

Sothis appeared right in front of Byleth. "Mortal minds, so fragile. Has it occurred to you that walking into that trap was a mistake?" When Byleth didn't respond, she huffed. "You're tangling with people you don't understand and expect to not suffer consequences. They sealed you here. This was your fault that we ended up here. If you had listened to me, we wouldn't have walked right into a trap."

Byleth blinked.

"Oh? Is that recognition? Is Byleth home now?" Sothis chided. "Got something to say?"

There was nothing for a long time. Then, "Sorry."

"Good."

Byleth felt herself get lifted up onto her feet. She blinked several times, as if seeing for the first time in eons.

Sothis looked at her. There was a note of worry in her eyes. "I fear I may have overestimated the difference between a Goddess and a mortal's mind."

She said nothing.

"I will fuse with you. It should help you perhaps forget some of this," Sothis explained. "It should. But if nothing else, my power will let us escape."

"Okay," grunted Byleth.

Sothis sighed. "At least you're still there." She pressed a palm to Byleth's forehead. "This may feel…strange." There was a warm tingle against Byleth's skin.

Then her world exploded.

Author Notes: This chapter was definitely something more experimental. The game has Byleth kinda get off scot free for walking into a trap and getting locked into literal hell. I wanted that to have ramifications. As you can probably guess, her mental state isn't exactly good by the end here. That might be a divisive decision, but I fully believe in making characters suffer consequences for their actions. That's what makes for good storytelling.

Editing Notes:
5/6/2021: Clarified one of Sothis' lines to be more clear.
9/12/2021: Adjusted some dialogue to better capture each character's motivations.