Hermes's breath caught when Raphael said it.
Eirwyn's powers.
His fists trembled. His lips parted, but the words lodged like broken glass in his throat. "…How do you even know that?"
Raphael tilted his head, calm as ever, eyes steady. "Does it matter?"
"Yes," Hermes snapped. "It does."
"No," Raphael countered gently, almost like he was scolding a child. "What matters, my Lord… is that you can fix this. With Rewind."
Hermes stared at him, then at the beetle's still body. The silence was unbearable. The song was gone. The room was dead.
His chest tightened. His jaw shook.
"…Rewind," Hermes whispered. "I… I can try."
He pressed his palm to the cold floor.
Something inside him broke open.
The power came rushing in, not like a flood, but like all the rivers of time clawing at his body at once. He gasped, his back arching.
