The interview had begun.
In front of me sat Nyx, goddess—or god—of the night.I still didn't know exactly how to refer to her… or him.And, to my surprise, everything was flowing much better than I had imagined.
Too well.
The problem wasn't the interview itself, but the answers.Every word Nyx spoke opened new doubts in my mind, as if instead of explaining the world, she were dismantling it piece by piece.
"So…" I asked, frowning slightly. "What's the difference between dying… and disappearing?"
Nyx tilted her head, watching me closely. Not with mockery or superiority, but like someone deciding how much they could reveal without breaking something fragile.
"Imagine you are a complete body," she said calmly. "A gigantic being.Now imagine someone cuts off one of your fingers."
She raised her hand, slowly flexing her fingers.
"That finger doesn't die. Over time, it heals… and then it grows.It takes shape. It develops. It gains identity."
The room seemed to grow quieter.
"That is what gods are," she continued. "Conscious fragments of something much greater.We are like the sea… but not the entire sea. Independent, yet born from the same origin."
I swallowed.
"Have you ever wondered why there are so many gods of the same concept?Gods of night, love, war… in different cultures."
"I always thought they were the same god with different names," I replied.
Nyx slowly shook her head.
"Not exactly. We share essence, but not identity.We were born from different beliefs, different stories, even if our 'mother' is the same.Our powers resemble each other… but they are not identical."
Her eyes gleamed with something ancient.
"When armies from different peoples fought, each prayed to the same concept… with a different face.It wasn't that a god chose one side or the other.It was that the god existed in both… and at the same time, in neither."
A chill ran down my spine.
"But that still doesn't explain disappearing," I said, leaning forward slightly, already too involved.
Nyx smiled faintly.
"Didn't your boss explain to you what this channel exists for?"
I shook my head.
"We're losing strength," she admitted."Losing awareness.We don't die… but we return to the origin."
She fell silent for a moment.
"And that isn't painful," she added."But… it's terribly boring."
I stayed quiet.
The comments were exploding in front of me, but for the first time, I didn't pay attention to them right away.I needed to process everything:where gods came from,why the radio station existed,why Nyx was here…and, above all, why I had been chosen.
Even so, my eyes drifted to the screen.
So if we believe enough, can we create a god?I want one who protects me every day, that's not fairI'm changing religions, this Nyx is way too hotIs it spelled Nyx or Nix?
I ignored most of it.
I needed a question that mattered.
"So…" I said slowly. "Is darkness evil?After all, like you said, you are primordial terror."
Nyx looked at me with unexpected tenderness,as if she were watching a child who was only beginning to understand the world.
"Are weapons evil?" she asked, picking up a pencil from the table and spinning it between her fingers.
"Yes," I answered without hesitation.
Nyx threw the pencil.
It grazed my face, lightly cutting my cheek before hitting the floor.I felt the sting… then a warm drop sliding down my skin.
"Then tell me," she continued, "is the pencil good or evil?"
I didn't answer.
Before I could, Iztli lunged at Nyx with a fierce movement, but the goddess glided gracefully over the table and sat beside me, carefully wiping the blood from my cheek.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I just wanted to make a point."
I was trembling.
"Let me show you something," she whispered.
The world changed.
I saw darkness from the beginning of time.Some used it to hunt.Others to hide.
"I'm not going to show you this in silence," she said, her voice strangely gentle."I want you to hear it. I want you to understand."
Darkness unfolded like a curtain, yet her voice remained—clear, enveloping—speaking to me as images formed.
"Night existed before names, before fear," she continued."Some say it's where scavengers hide."
I saw a crow descend upon an abandoned body.
"Others say it's the cloak of the weak and the outcast."
The scene shifted: a child hiding in an alley, hugging his knees.
"But it is also refuge."
A fox ran with a rabbit in its jaws. A bear appeared, and the fox fled into a burrow, leaving the food before an exhausted vixen and her cubs.
"Night protects everyone equally," Nyx said firmly."It does not judge. It does not favor. It does not punish.It only covers."
The image shifted again.
A city at night.Living shadows.Two men loving each other urgently—fearfully, truthfully.Then dawn: one of them entering a house, smiling at a wife and a child who hugged him without knowing.
"I keep what they don't dare show," Nyx said, her voice now warm."I protect it… like a mother protects what isn't yet ready to face the sun."
The images slowly faded.
Nyx was still beside me.
"I am neither good nor evil, Izel," she said gently."I am a home.For everyone."
Something tightened in my chest.
"And isn't it… tiring?" I asked softly."Doesn't it hurt to exist like that… for so long?"
Nyx looked at me.
For the first time, not like a goddess.
Like someone old. Very old.
Her masculine form appeared again, but something had changed:her posture lost its elegance,her skin dulled,her eyes… exhausted.
"I was born as mystery," she said."Silence.Rest.Primordial terror."
The words weighed heavily.
"I am the loving side of the night," she continued,"but I also carry what no one wants to look at.Hidden pain.Denied desires.Hatred fermenting in the dark."
The air thickened.
Iztli appeared at my side in human form and wrapped his arms around me, tracing symbols with one hand.
"When that hatred awakens in me…" Nyx said through clenched teeth,"when I hear the screams, the desperation…"
Darkness overflowed.
There was no floor.No walls.Screams without mouths.Words without language.Hunger.
A shadow that wanted to devour everything.
Iztli held me tightly, murmuring something like a chant.A white and golden light enveloped us.
Then green flames erupted from everywhere, devouring the darkness and restoring the studio to normal.
Nyx fell to her knees.
"I'm sorry…" she gasped."That… that is primordial terror."
Silence was absolute.
Then Mictlantecuhtli's voice thundered through the space.
"The segment has ended."
The transmission closed.
I felt the weight of the moment crash down on me all at once.
Nyx rose slowly and approached me. There was no longer any threat in her presence.
She pulled an object from her hand:a black ring, finely carved, with a white symbol embedded at its center.
"This is an apology," she said softly."It contains a fragment of my mantle."
She placed the ring in my palm.
"It will save your life once," she continued."It will cover you completely.But afterward… it will disappear."
She looked at me with a tired, almost maternal smile.
"Have a good night, little host.And may luck be with you."
Nyx left.
I could barely breathe.
When everything ended, I found the jaguar keychain resting on my lap.Iztli must have been exhausted.
I staggered out of the studio.
"Congratulations," my boss said with a calm smile."The views are exploding."
"Look," he added, showing me a recording of the interview. It didn't come close to what I had lived through—it looked like a censored, lighter version of the experience."Don't worry. We modify the live feed. If normal humans saw divinity without filters, they could go insane."
"That's why when I interviewed you and you didn't tremble, I knew you were perfect."
Something inside me broke.
Before thinking, I slapped him.
The sound echoed sharply.
"I almost died!" I shouted, holding back tears."And you're talking about metrics!"
Mictlantecuhtli looked at me without anger.
"Nothing would have happened to you," he replied calmly."Nyx wouldn't harm you.And if anything had occurred, I would have intervened."
He pointed at the keychain.
"Besides, you have your guardian."
I didn't answer.
I turned around and left.
I needed air.I needed silence.I needed to know if I could really endure this.
Because one thing was now certain:
None of this was a game.