Quetzalcoatl in the Underworld

Part Three: Journey to the Palace of Mictlantecuhtli

This is Part Three of a creative experiment, exploring the current capacities of AI as a collaborator. Here you can find Part One and Part Two. For those who aren’t interested in this diversion, I intend to finish the series quickly and get back to more serious subjects. Please let me know what you think of this effort at “pulp mythology” in the comments. I hope you enjoy it!

We walked through the night, magnetically drawn to the place of descent — a mysterious sinkhole near an abandoned mall — where shadows whispered siren songs. On the way, we spoke of old times, remembering our place in the cosmic order: Quetzalcoatl and Xolotl, two cosmic clowns, archaic adventurers. We stood together on the precipice of the netherworld, catching whiffs of Palo Santo, rotting worm food, and sulfur.

The god with the face of a hound intoned, in dirge-like tones:

“I am Xolotl, the Evening Star. At night, I guide the Sun to the gaping maw of Mictlán, land of the dead, to perish. The path to the Underworld is etched into my soul; I will guide us through the Abyss.”

I replied by rote, following the ancient script:

“I am Quetzalcoatl, the Morning Star. Each dawn, I lead the Sun from the ashen grip of Mictlán to be reborn in the rose-pale dawn. My spirit knows the route from the realm of dark matter, back to light. If we succeed in our quest, I shall bring us back from the Underworld to the divine wonderland, Tamoanchan.”

With Xolotl leading, we flew downward, through inter-dimensional effluvia, worlds unfurling around us like layers of an onion, each layer more dubious, threatening, diabolic, than the last. We fell through the nine hells of Mictlán, retracing the solar chariot's nocturnal plummet into unknowable voids.