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The Void doesn't speak.
This is something Ides is used to by now. His master's communication is esoteric, which makes sense considering that it could barely be called "sentient" or "a creature". He receives its instructions in flickers and surges. Stars brighten within the darkness of his mind in the exact pattern of his orders, and he obeys.
He doesn't know how long it's been since his work began. Since waking in the Void after dying elsewhere; since dying elsewhere after waking in the Void; since the dancing after death began. It must have been a while—he's been getting regular letters from Hermes, and the memories of the contents have piled up in his brain.
He doesn't reply, though.
—
The Void allows time for personal work, and Ides' work is to monitor Hermes. He can't let them see him—he knows it's too dangerous for both of them—but he can keep an eye out, make sure that they're not brought into any more death games. He won't let them go through that again.
One day his attention wavers, just for a little while, as his master takes him away from consciousness—a puppet led by its strings, concealing the nature of the Void's work from him for some time.
When he fades back into awareness, Hermes is gone.
—
It's been a long time since Ides has willingly stood on solid ground, scuffed brown sandals resting lightly on yellow endstone. His body adjusts to the weight as the Void retracts, tendrils framing his face inquisitively. It doesn't know what he wants.
He wants to leave.
As soon as the thought streaks through his mind there's a pull that makes his body almost collapse on the spot, strings being attached to the puppet one by one, pain emanating from each string, black Void covering his eyes and hands as he tries to resist the show of power, straining against invisible bonds. Shapes of words form in his brain, the familiar surge of speech that isn't speech, louder than a jet engine—
Without me, you will die.
Let me go!
Without me, you will be alone.
Let me go!
Without me, you will never be anything but a tiny atom in the history of the universe.
Let me go!
The words are black holes.
Please!
...Fine. You get what you want. See how you like it.
With a gasp, Ides falls forward.
His surroundings shift. Sunlight and grass. Excruciating pain swallows him whole, screaming in agony as his entire being is engulfed in fire.
—
Ides wakes in a bedrock circle on top of a mountain. He gingerly feels the plate of bleached bone covering the top half of his face.
He knows he's made a mistake.