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A realm between.
The gap by the gate.
Hidden yet threaded upon.

But the Death God would not find himself at home as he stepped through the tear in the planes. Rather he would find himself in a dark hallway, stretching back seemingly without end as the walls echoed down beyond sight. A pocket dimension created as the warp between the mortal world and the underworld was elongated into infinity. Here the walls kept their secret, concealing from the gods that which happened in-between.

As he entered, the realm would greet him, alive to an extent, but not alive to another. The walls spoke, their vibrations uttering words as Darko would hear a familiar voice. "Death is not the End. But all kings die, but a throne is not lost. What will the Dead do to Dust?" X delivered his message to Darko, a warning perhaps or taunt. No one ever really knew what X spoke of until it was too late, only the other Gods possibly considered the Gods of Knowledge would have a chance to decipher his riddle-like truths. And they were half-truths at best, useless without the rest of the information withheld by the God of Secrets. Only omens did he speak, yet heeding the advice of one who knew what one did not was...

Upon closer inspection the halls were made not of stone or brick or wood or steel... But rather of moths. Thousands upon Thousands of black moths, fluttering their wings in vibrations to produce the voice Darko heard, all as X floated in the heavens.