Mictlantecuhtli sat on a throne of skulls, surrounded by the Nine-Path Labyrinth. "Welcome to my house," he rasped. "The exit is... missing."
Poseidon stood at the entrance. He wasn't scared; he was insulted. "I do not walk mazes. I make roads."
The Crumbling
Mictlantecuhtli summoned Owls and Spiders of the Night, swarming the sea god with omens of death. He tried to use Claim of Mictlan to anchor Poseidon's soul to the bone-dry earth.
Poseidon slammed his trident into the ground. Earth-Shaker.
The Labyrinth didn't just crack; it pulverized. The tectonic plates beneath the Aztec underworld shifted violently.
Water from the subterranean aquifers burst through the bone floors, flooding the arid realm.
"This is not death!" Mictlantecuhtli screamed, as his throne dissolved into mud.
"It is the sea," Poseidon roared, riding a wave of rubble and foam. "And the sea has no walls."
The Lord of Bones was washed away in a torrent of salt and stone.