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The Descent
The road to Teotlacualli was a wound. Ahanu Tennarse and Xóchitl Mendoza drove through the Sonoran Desert, the obsidian pendant around his neck vibrating like a compass needle. The artifact—stolen back from Malik Voss in Lagos—now pulsed with the rhythm of the underworld. Xóchitl's fingers danced across her holographic tablet, its glow reflecting in her jade nose ring.
"*Teotlacualli* means 'divine fire' in Nahuatl," she said, zooming in on satellite images of a crater surrounded by skeletal cacti. "The Circle's turned it into a necropolis. They're digging up Mictlantecuhtli's bones to fuse him with their tech."
Ahanu's gold eye narrowed. "How do you kill a god?"
"You don't. You outsmart him." She tossed him a vial of nanobots. "Swallow these. They'll hack the Circle's biotech if you get close."
He hesitated, the memory of her kiss still warm on his lips. "What if I lose control again?"
Xóchitl's smirk faltered. "Then I'll reboot you."
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The Corrupted Clones
By nightfall, they reached the crater's edge. Teotlacualli yawned below—a labyrinth of Aztec pyramids grafted with neon cables and drone swarms. At its center loomed a skeletal monolith: **Mictlantecuhtli's Ribcage**, a structure built from the god's petrified bones.
Ahanu's clones materialized, their forms warped by the Circle's corruption:
- **Clone 1 (Dahomey)**: Half-hyena, half-drone, its muzzle dripping with oily saliva.
- **Clone 2 (Cherokee)**: A shadow figure with circuitry pulsing under its skin.
- **Clone 3 (Incan)**: Stone flesh cracking to reveal molten code.
"They're unstable," Xóchitl warned. "One wrong move, and they'll turn."
Ahanu touched Clone 1's muzzle, absorbing its pain—a memory of Circle agents torturing it with voltage. "They're still mine."
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The Bargain with the Dead
Infiltration began at the bone gates. Ahanu **ate a Circle sentry's uniform**, his skin shifting to mimic its biometrics. Xóchitl hacked the security grid, her code clashing with Nahuatl encryption.
Inside, the air reeked of burnt copal and ozone. Workers in hazmat suits fed shards of Mictlantecuhtli's bones into fusion reactors, their chants a bastardized mix of corporate slogans and Aztec prayers: *"Huelīti tēch miqui! Productivity is sacrifice!"*
Ahanu's pendant flared as they neared the Ribcage. A spectral figure materialized—**Mictecacíhuatl**, Mictlantecuhtli's consort, her skeletal face veiled in starlight.
"*Nepantla*," she hissed. "You carry the stench of living blood. Why court death?"
"To bury it," Ahanu said.
The goddess laughed, her voice echoing through his clones. "The Circle has already awakened my lord. Join him, and I'll spare your *allegiance*." She gestured to Xóchitl. "Leave the mortal."
Xóchitl drew a obsidian blade. "Try it, *calaca*."
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The Blood Mutiny
The clones attacked first.
Clone 1 (Dahomey) lunged at Xóchitl, jaws snapping. Ahanu **touched its code**, rewriting loyalty with a Cherokee war chant. The hyena-drone howled, turning on Circle guards. Clone 2 (Cherokee) melted into the reactor's core, overloading it with stolen data. Clone 3 (Incan) shattered, its debris forming a barricade.
But Mictlantecuhtli stirred. The Ribcage trembled, bone spires piercing the sky. Malik Voss emerged from the chaos, his missing arm replaced with a biomechanical claw grafted from the god's femur.
"You're late, Caiman," he spat. "The ritual's done. Meet your new boss."
The ground split. Mictlantecuhtli rose—a skeletal colossus with reactor cores for eyes and a cloak of dying stars.
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The Dance of Duality
Ahanu fought in layers:
1. **Physical**: His *macuahuitl* clashed with Malik's claw, each strike sparking ancestral memories.
2. **Digital**: Xóchitl hacked the god's neural network, her code battling millennia of divine malice.
3. **Spiritual**: Mictecacíhuatl whispered temptations, offering to "purify" Xóchitl if Ahanu surrendered.
"*You could save her*," the goddess crooned. "*One life for billions. A fair trade.*"
Ahanu's purple eye blazed. He **ate Malik's claw**, absorbing the god's bone. Agony seared him—Mictlantecuhtli's memories of cosmic decay, empires crumbling to dust.
Xóchitl screamed as the god's code infected her tablet. "Ahanu, now!"
He unleashed his clones one last time. They fused into a **Blood Titan**—a patchwork giant of Dahomey muscle, Cherokee shadow, and Incan stone. It grappled the god, buying seconds.
Ahanu leaped into the Ribcage, plunging his nanobot-infused blood into Mictlantecuhtli's core.
"*This* is my offering," he snarled.
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The Price of Silence
The explosion blinded. When the ash cleared, the Ribcage was rubble. Malik Voss lay broken, his claw disintegrating. The clones were gone—only Ahanu's scars remained.
Xóchitl knelt beside him, her tablet fried. "You… rewrote the god's code?"
"No." Ahanu coughed blood. "I gave him a choice. To sleep… or be a slave."
Mictecacíhuatl's voice echoed from the ruins. *"You spared him. Why?"*
Ahanu gripped Xóchitl's hand. "Even gods deserve peace."
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