A Lost Soul

Prologue

Life is a thread. Like a spiderweb, it could be woven into exquisite tapestries. Yet, a strong enough breeze could make it snap in a split second. The breeze that broke the thread came in the form of Atropos' shears.

Snip. Snip. Snip. It was all she did—Atropos, the third of the moirai—snipping threads and tossing them aside. Ending lives, one after another, the way they were meant to be.

The threads of life are pure black. Blacker than ink and midnight. Blacker then the eyes of Nyx, primordial goddess of darkness. Blacker than the darkest hearts.

Snip. This thread was like every other, a paper-thin wire that snapped with ease. Severed in two and forgotten.

But this thread, this thread didn't stay cut in two.

No, this thread sewed itself back together. Sinew and flesh stitched back together as one. Wounds healed and soul returned. Resurrection is a fascinating subject, it is the act of putting back something which had been lost; a soul.

This gossamer thread was identical to before, but it had one imperfection, a single strand of white intertwined with flawless black. Of course, the white was just as immaculate as the black.

Every soul is unique, but the threads are identical, except for this one.

Jason Todd. The soul that had escaped even Hades. He hadn't made it out unscathed of course, the pit had left its mark on him. But, that wasn't enough, he had died, and his soul should be in the underworld.

The fates don't make mistakes, Lachesis always measures the right amount of thread, and yet He somehow got more.

Souls belong in one of two places, a body or the underworld. But Jason had already left his body when he went back, and that is simply not something you do.

But Jason Todd had done it. He had always been an enigma though, so perhaps it shouldn't have been such a surprise.