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“Always so suspicious,” said Malast. “Another reason I’ve always avoided you. So bothersome to deal with.”

Eleyo started walking around the iron wall in front of him, so Hector made it wider.

Malast sighed again. “You have no reason to stop him, Iron One. It is his choice to make. That is, unless you wish to become a god, yourself. In which case, I suppose you have every reason to stop him.”

Hector was at a loss. ‘Garovel, what do I do?’

‘Oh, uh--well, I agree with you. But I don’t think you should piss off Malast. If worse comes to worst, just give in and let Eleyo have it.’

“Well, Iron One?” said Malast, holding up the jar in Hector’s direction. “Do you wish to become a god? If not, then the choice here is simple.”

Hector grit his teeth. “...What will you do if I say yes?” he said, mostly just trying to buy more time to think.

“Ah. In that case, I would have to hold--”

A clinking and shifting sound cut him off, and Hector saw the mountain of treasure begin to move slightly. There were several slow and mild avalanches in the glowing jewels, clattering all the way down to the stony floor around Malast, who was looking around with the same level of disinterest as he always seemed to have.

Then a cluster of giant, red-orange hands exploded out of the treasure pile. Jewels went flying everywhere as the hands stretched and grew and bent aggressively toward the group.

Hector reacted with a wall for everyone. The collective impact from all the hands nearly toppled it immediately, but Hector added foundational support in time to stabilize it, so instead of it merely falling on top of them, it started slowly pushing everyone back. Within seconds, Hector could see the red-hot, hand-shaped spots in his wall, where they were doubtlessly trying to push through.

Hector had something for that, though. He materialized freezing cold spikes of solid iron on the other side of the wall, skewering as many hands as he could at once.

The pushing stopped. The glowing spots on the wall began to diminish.

Hector was wary of annihilating his work, however. Manuel and the still-silent Diego each moved to opposite ends of the wall in order to peek around the corner. When they both gave him a nod, Hector destroyed his iron.

As they closed the distance back toward Malast, Hector didn’t see any traces of the hands that had presumably just tried to kill or capture everyone, but he did notice something different about the mountain of treasure in each of the spots where the hands had originated from.

There were mirrors. They must have been buried beneath the jewels before, but now they were mostly visible.

Before anyone could ask Malast about what the hell had just happened, however, a booming voice arrived.

“Invaders, begone from this place! You are not worthy to be in the presence of the God of the Underworld!”