Present Day — Beneath the Waters
Still underwater, Anyanwu stands face to face with the fearsome water goddess.
"Fine," the goddess hisses. "If you seek restitution for your current predicament..." — she pauses, her eyes glinting with cruel delight — "...then you shall find it in hell."
The seafloor trembles. A monstrous, demonic serpent bursts forth, grotesque in form. It lets out a deafening roar that ripples through the depths, shaking the very atmosphere.
On the first strike, Anyanwu turns — and twenty of the Hundred are already dead, their bodies torn in half, hanging limp between the snake's jagged teeth. Before she can even scream, another twenty are devoured. Half her forces, gone in an instant. The beast's throat is slick with their blood.
"This is madness!" Anyanwu cries.
Tightening her grip on her spear, she charges at the goddess — but is stopped cold by a scream. Familiar. Terrifying.
It's Chioma—her second-in-command.
Trapped between the serpent's teeth, her limbs lie scattered on the ocean floor, severed from her body. With a scream of rage, Anyanwu leaps onto the beast's maw, driving her spear between its teeth, desperate to save what remains of her friend. She shuts her eyes, afraid to see Chioma's lifeless, void-filled gaze—but still she hopes. Still, she fights.
The beast rears, violently shaking her off. It turns its attention to what's left of the Hundred.
Anyanwu crashes to the seabed—separated from her weapon, battered and bleeding. Helpless, she watches as the serpent devours the last of her crew.
Then, just when all seems lost, a brilliant blue light pierces through the water. Even the goddess looks up, surprised.
Holy chants echo as the light forms a radiant pillar at the center of the arena. From it emerge Eze, Chinedu, a young unknown priest, the general, and about a dozen soldiers.
"Hope we're not too late," the general smirks.
"No!!!" Anyanwu screams.
Too late.
Before the general can react, the serpent descends. In an instant, he and his men are gone—swallowed whole.
Anyanwu doesn't move. She is frozen, not from fear—but from despair. Silent. Still. Only tears roll down her bloodstained cheeks.
The goddess laughs—cold, mocking.
"What a spectacle," she says. "Truly magnificent. Tragedy at its finest. Humans... always so dramatic."
She swims down, tail gliding with elegance, her gaze fixed on Anyanwu with a cruel, knowing smile. Above them, the beast descends again, its belly swollen and dripping with blood.
As it sinks, the serpent speaks:
"Such a glorious meal. I'll return for the next sacrifice. Whether it's your people—or the humans—they'd better be ready."
Still dazed, Anyanwu whispers, "What does he mean...?"
The goddess chuckles darkly.
"Isn't that just like you humans? Pretending your selfishness is virtue. You forget the gods—not out of innocence, but arrogance. You hate to be ruled, so you choose to forget we ever existed."
She looks down at her trembling hands.
"That creature—hellspawn—it's not from this realm. My magic once kept beasts like that out. But I grew weak. I didn't know it was your world poisoning mine."
She looks back at Anyanwu, her voice filled with bitter truth.
"We gods feed on belief. And you stopped believing. For a better life, you abandoned us. I sacrificed my own people to protect yours—while your prayers faded into silence."
Her voice deepens, divine and unforgiving.
"My wrath is nothing compared to what the other gods will bring. From this day forward..." — she leans down, eye to eye with Anyanwu — "...you will be judged. By me, and by the gods."
In the Human Realm
The goddess rises from the waters to meet the king and his gathered subjects, all waiting for the return of the Hundred.
But behind her emerge not survivors—but her own divine entourage. Among them, the Queen's guards march solemnly.
One in particular bears a long wooden bambi stick, and upon it—
Anyanwu.
Crucified.
Her body drenched in blood, her head slumped, yet still clinging to life. She is displayed at the riverbank, crucifix planted deep into the ground, visible for miles.
The goddess raises her voice.
"Let this be a warning, people of this realm: this is what happens when you defy the laws of your gods."
The cloudy sky breaks open just enough to cast a beam of light—spotlighting the horror of Anyanwu's broken body.
The goddess turns to the king.
"Until the next Hundred, great king. And I won't be the only god asking."
With a maniacal laugh, she and her retinue plunge violently into the river, their departure echoing across the land like thunder.