Author's Note
I honestly can't believe this is my 300th chapter. It's been a long journey getting here, and I just want to take a moment to thank everyone who's been with me along the way. Your comments, theories, support, and patience have meant more than you probably realize.
To celebrate this milestone, I'm posting one of the biggest chapters yet - around 4,000 words. I really hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Thank you for sticking with me. đź’™
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The sun hung low over Ajak's South Dakota farm, painting the wheat fields in gold. The stalks swayed in waves under the evening breeze, their movement hypnotic, almost meditative. The farmhouse sat small and weathered against the vast prairie sky, its white paint peeling in places, the porch steps worn smooth by decades of use.
Ajak sat in her rocking chair, the wood creaking with familiar rhythm. Her fingers wrapped around a mug of coffee that had long since gone cold. She'd been sitting here for an hour, watching the sun sink lower, trying to find peace in the simple beauty of Earth's sunset.
The peaceful moment shattered when Arishem's voice crashed into her mind like a meteor strike.
[AJAK]
The telepathic connection hit her skull with the force of a hammer. Her coffee mug slipped from nerveless fingers, shattering on the wooden boards. She gasped as both hands flew to her temples as cosmic presence flooded her consciousness.
"Yes, Celestial Arishem." Her voice came out steady despite the pressure building behind her eyes. Years of practice had taught her how to speak while a god rode shotgun in her brain.
[Intruders approach Tiamut. Multiple entities have breached the planetary crust and descend toward the Dreaming Celestial's chamber. This cannot be permitted.]
The voice was completely emotionless and cold enough to send a shiver down her spine.
[Gather the Eternals. Eliminate the intruders. Ensure the Emergence proceeds without interference.]
Ajak's jaw tightened, her teeth grinding together hard enough to crack if she'd been human. "Lord Arishem, my family… They will not take the truth well. They believe they serve humanity, not that humanity serves the Emergence. If I reveal everything now, , if I tell them what we really are, they might..."
[Your role is not to question.]
Arishem's presence pressed harder, suffocating her mind. For a moment, she experienced what it might feel like to drown in starlight.
 [The Eternals exist to serve the Celestials. Tiamut's birth must not be obstructed. You will gather them. You will explain their purpose. You will ensure compliance. If any refuse, you will eliminate them and complete the mission with those who remain. This is not negotiable. This is your purpose.]
"I understand," Ajak whispered, and hated herself for it.
Then the connection severed like a snapped cable.
Ajak collapsed forward, gasping. Sweat plastered her hair to her forehead and her hands shook as she gripped the porch railing, trying to anchor herself to something solid. The weight of millennia crashed down on her shoulders all at once, every lie she'd told, every truth she'd hidden, every moment she'd watched her family love humanity while knowing what was coming.
"Damn you," she whispered to the empty sky, her voice breaking. "Damn you for making me do this."
She pulled herself upright, legs wobbling. Her fingers found the emergency beacon in her pocket, the device they'd all carried for seven thousand years but never used. The metal was cold against her palm.
One press. That's all it took.
The beacon activated with a pulse of golden energy that rippled outward, bypassing all technology, speaking directly to the synthetic cores of her family scattered across the globe.
The pulse spread, Faster than light. Touching Ikaris in the sky above Russia. Finding Sersi in her London flat. Catching Sprite mid-illusion in Athens. Pulling Makkari from whatever ancient ruin she was exploring. Interrupting Druig's meditation in the Amazon. Dragging Phastos away from his family dinner. Waking Thena from whatever dreams synthetic beings had. Reaching Gilgamesh in his quiet monastery. Finding Kingo on a Bollywood sound stage.
[EMERGENCY GATHERING. COME HOME NOW.]
Java, Indian Ocean
One hour later, Ajak stepped on the beach in Java.
The sand was white, almost painfully bright under the afternoon sun. Waves rolled in with rhythmic consistency, indifferent to the crisis unfolding around and inside her.
She didn't have to wait long.
A sonic boom cracked the sky like the world splitting open.
Ikaris descended like a falling star, golden energy trailing from his eyes as he decelerated. The air around him shimmered with heat as sand fused to glass where his energy touched it.
Sersi rode in his arms, her expression distant while Sprite clung to his other side, small and vulnerable.
Both women looked disoriented but alert.
"Ajak?" Sersi's feet touched sand, and she immediately stepped away from Ikaris, putting distance between them with deliberate care. "What's happening? The beacon—" She paused, processing. "We've never used the beacon. Not once. Not when the Deviants nearly overran us in Babylon. Not when Thena first showed symptoms of Mahd Wy'ry. Not when..."
"Wait." Ajak interrupted, raised one hand. "Let everyone arrive first. I'll explain once. I..." Her voice caught. "I can't do this multiple times. I don't have the strength."
Another sonic boom came; this one was closer and faster.
Makkari appeared in a streak of gold, sand exploding outward from her landing point in a perfect circle, the displacement creating a miniature crater. Druig tumbled from her arms with all the grace of a dropped sack of potatoes, rolling twice before coming to a stop face-down in the sand.
"Bloody hell, woman!" Druig pushed himself up, spitting out sand, his Irish accent thick with indignation. "Could've given me a warning before going Mach 3!"
Sprite smirked, some of her composure returning with the familiar banter. "What's wrong, Druig? Can't handle being in the loving embrace of the fastest woman alive?"
Druig wiped sand from his face, grinning despite himself. "There's no shame in being carried by love. Though next time, love, sprite. Though next time, love," he turned to Makkari, "maybe slow down before the dismount?"
Makkari's hands moved in quick, sharp signs, her expression unimpressed: You survived. Stop complaining. I could have left you in the Amazon with the mosquitoes.
Druig's grin widened. "Fair point, that."
Suddenly, the air above them shimmered. A Domo-class ship decloaked, its stealth field peeling away like invisible curtains. The craft was massive, easily a hundred meters long, its hull covered in Celestial script that glowed faintly gold.
The ship descended with antigravity hum that Ajak felt in her bones, landing gear extending to kiss the sand with surprising gentleness for something that massive. Displaced air washed over the beach, sending palm fronds dancing.
The ramp lowered with a pneumatic hiss.
Phastos emerged first, his wrist-mounted interface already active, holographic panels floating around him like digital butterflies, already muttering about "emergency protocols" and "better have a good reason."
Gilgamesh followed, his massive frame filling the doorway, making the ship's entrance look small. He moved with the careful grace of someone who'd learned to be gentle despite his size and strength. "Ajak," his voice carried warmth despite the tension, "good to see you."
Thena stepped out last, her posture weak but eyes scanning for threats.
"Ajak." Gilgamesh's voice carried warmth despite the tension. He crossed the distance in long strides, pulling her into a brief hug that lifted her feet off the ground. Strong. Safe. Exactly the kind of comfort she desperately needed and didn't deserve. "Good to see you."
Thena nodded once, and weekly hugged her friend and took in her family after centuries.
Gilgamesh's hand found her shoulder immediately. She exhaled slowly as some of the tension bled out of her frame.
"Thena," Ajak said softly, noting the signs. The goddess of war was close to an episode. The stress of the emergency beacon, the sudden displacement, the uncertainty, all of it was triggering her Mahd Wy'ry.
"I'm fine," Thena said, which meant she wasn't.
Gilgamesh's thumb traced small circles on her shoulder. A quiet reminder that he was there. That she wasn't alone in her mind.
Phastos just looked annoyed. "This better be worth pulling me away from my family. Do you know how hard it is to explain to a five-year-old why Daddy has to leave in the middle of movie night?"
"Where's Kingo?" Sersi asked, scanning the beach, probably grateful for something to focus on besides Ikaris's presence.
As if summoned by the question, a violet Rolls-Royce materialized on the beach access road. The car looked absurdly out of place on the sandy track, its polished exterior catching sunlight like a jewel.
The vehicle stopped precisely in front of the gathered Eternals.
Karun Patel emerged from the driver's side, his movements practiced yet excited. He circled to the rear passenger door, opened it with a flourish, and stepped aside.
Kingo stepped out like he was arriving at a film premiere. Sunglasses, designer clothes, perfect hair despite the beach wind. Karun immediately raised a professional camera with its red recording light already active.
"And here we have the legendary Eternals, reunited after decades apart." Kingo's voice carried theatrical flair. "A moment for the ages, captured in stunning 4K—"
"Kingo." Ajak's tone could have frozen fire. "Now is not the time for your videographer."
"Karun is my assistant," Kingo corrected, not lowering his sunglasses. "And actually, this is the perfect time. Do you have any idea how expensive decent VFX are these days? I plan to record our fight with the Deviants, documentary style. Bollywood won't know what hit them."
Despite the tension, several Eternals smiled, even Thena's lips twitched.
"Classic Kingo," Gilgamesh chuckled softly.
But Ajak's expression killed the levity instantly. Her face had gone pale, eyes distant with the weight of what she needed to say.
The mood suddenly shifted.
"Ajak?" Sersi crossed the sand, closing the distance, her concern overriding her earlier distance. "What's wrong? I've never seen you like this."
Ajak took a breath that rattled in her chest. "I need to tell you all the truth. About why we're here. About our purpose."
Thena straightened, her warrior instincts pinging as Gilgamesh's hand tightened on her shoulder. "We know our purpose. We come from Olympia to defend humanity from Deviants. We guide their evolution—"
"That's a lie." The words fell like stones. "Everything you believe about our mission. Our purpose. Who we are and why we're here. All of it are lies."
Silence crashed over the beach.
The waves kept rolling. The palm trees kept swaying. But the world continued, indifferent.
"What?" Sprite's voice came out small, childlike in a way it rarely did, all her usual bravado stripped away.
Ajak's hands trembled visibly now. She clasped them together to hide it. "Everything you believe about our mission. It's all lies planted in your heads. Our true purpose—" She stopped, throat closing around the words.
Ikaris suddenly stepped forward. "I'll tell them."
Every head snapped toward him.
Sersi's face went white. "You knew?" With an accusation that carried seven thousand years of weight.
"I've always known." Ikaris's voice carried no apology, just flat statement of fact. "From the beginning. And before anyone asks, yes, I kept it from all of you. Because that was my role."
Sprite stumbled backward like she'd been slapped. "You… you knew? For seven thousand years, you knew, and you never—" Her voice broke completely. "I trusted you. We all trusted you. You were our leader, and you..."
"Let me explain." Ikaris's eyes flared gold, power leaking through his control.
"Explain?!" Sprite's scream carried across the beach. "Explain seven thousand years of lies?! Explain watching me struggle with this," she gestured at her child's body, "this prison, and never saying a word about why?! Explain..."
Makkari's hands moved in sharp, angry signs: What did you know? What did you hide? Tell us now.
Druig's eyes had started glowing gold, his power leaking through his control. "Ikaris, you've got ten seconds before I reach into your mind and take the information myself. And I won't be gentle about it."
"Everyone calm down," Ajak tried, but her voice had no power behind it.
Phastos was the one who spoke, his engineer's mind cutting through emotion to reach problem-solving mode. "Just tell us. Whatever it is, whatever you've been hiding, just say it. We can't deal with what we don't understand."
Ikaris's jaw clenched. His eyes flared brighter, gold energy leaking from the corners.
When he spoke, each word came out measured.
"We're not from Olympia, nor are we noble guardians. We're weapons. Advanced synthetic beings designed by the Celestials to serve a specific function. We're their tool. We're no more 'alive' in the way humans understand it than the Domo is. We're just more sophisticated."
Phastos's holographic panel flickered and died. "No, we're here to eradicate deviants!"
"The Deviants?" Ikaris continued, relentless now that he'd started. "Another Celestial creation. They were supposed to eliminate a planet's apex predators and clear the evolutionary path for intelligent life. But they went wrong, evolved past their programming and started killing everything. So the Celestials made us, their corrective measure."
He paced as he talked, unable to stand still, golden energy crackling around his fists.
"We hunt Deviants. We protect the developing intelligent species. We guide civilizations to grow, to build technology, to develop culture."
"Why?" Druig's voice cut sharp. "Why does any of that require lying to us? Why make us think we're heroes instead of... whatever we actually are?"
Ikaris stopped pacing and met Druig's eyes directly.
"Because our real purpose comes after the Deviants are dead." Ikaris's gaze swept across his family. "We help civilizations grow until their population reaches critical mass. Until there's enough intelligent life, enough energy generated by sentient minds, to power something far bigger than any of us."
The beach had gone dead silent except for waves and wind.
"There's a Celestial growing in Earth's core. Tiamut," Ajak whispered.
"The Dreaming Celestial." Ikaris nodded. "Sleeping in Earth's core since before humans walked upright. Growing and feeding on the energy of seven billion minds. When the population reaches the required threshold, when enough energy has accumulated, Tiamut wakes, he'll emerge. And when something the size of a planet emerges from inside a planet…"
"The world dies," Sersi finished, her voice hollow, all color drained from her face. "Everything dies. Every human, animal and plant. Seven billion of them. All the art, all the music, all the love, laughter and beauty we nurtured. All of it. Gone."
"The Emergence," Ikaris confirmed. "It's happened on countless worlds. It's the Celestials' method of reproduction. Plant a seed, nurture it with intelligent life, and harvest the newborn god when it's ready. Then move on to the next planet and the cycle continues."
Gilgamesh's massive frame shook. His voice, when it came out, was barely recognizable. "You're saying... we've been... shepherds." The word came out like poison. "Raising humanity like livestock. For slaughter."
"Yes."
The single word detonated.
Sprite screamed, her illusions exploding outward in chaotic bursts. A thousand versions of herself, adult and child and everything between, all screaming, all crying, all expressing the rage and hurt she'd bottled up for seven thousand years.
Makkari's hands moved in furious signs too fast to follow, signing with such fury that even those who couldn't understand sign language felt the anger radiating from her:
Seven thousand years. SEVEN THOUSAND YEARS of lies. Of helping them. Of loving them. Of believing we were SAVING them. And all of it was just... what? Farming? Gardening? Making sure the crops grew tall enough before the harvest?
Druig's eyes flared with golden light so bright it hurt to look at directly. "Fucking gardeners," he spat, his accent thickening with rage. "That's what we are. Fucking gardeners tending crops for a harvest we knew was coming. And I..." He turned away, hands clenched into fists. "I spent centuries trying to save them from themselves. Trying to stop their wars. Their genocides. And you're telling me it didn't matter? That they were always going to die anyway?"
Phastos sank to his knees in the sand, hands covering his face not knowing how to face his husband and son.
Thena didn't move. Just stared at Ikaris with eyes that promised violence.
Her body had gone rigid with stillness that preceded explosion.
Gilgamesh felt it and recognized the signs immediately.
"Thena," he said softly, his hand on her shoulder tightening. "Stay with me. Don't go into your head. Stay here."
Her eyes flickered, gold, then her normal color, then gold again.
"They knew," she whispered. "They knew, and they never told us. They put all these false memories in my mind. All this time I've been having nightmares of lost comrades and loved ones were all fabricated by them. And all of it was..."
"Stay with me," Gilgamesh repeated, moving to stand directly in front of her, blocking her view of Ikaris. "Focus on my voice. You're Thena. You're the greatest warrior I've ever known. You're here. You're safe. You're with family."
"Family that lies," she said, but her eyes stayed on his face.
"Family that was lied to," he corrected gently. "We were all lied to. Even Ikaris carried this burden alone."
"Don't," Ikaris's voice cracked. "Don't defend me. I don't deserve it."
Sersi still hadn't moved. Hadn't reacted beyond that initial shock.
She just stood there, staring at Ikaris like she'd never seen him before. Like the person she'd loved for thousands of years had been replaced by a stranger wearing his face.
"Seven thousand years," she said finally, her voice eerily calm. "We were together for most of that. We loved each other. Or at least..." She stopped. Started again. "Did you ever actually love me? Or was that part of the mission too? Keep Sersi compliant. Keep her believing. Make sure she doesn't ask too many questions."
"Sersi, no, I..." Ikaris reached for her.
She stepped back. The movement was small but absolute.
"Don't touch me. Don't..." Her calm cracked as tears spilled. "How could you? How could you hold me and kiss me and make me believe we had forever, and the whole time you knew? You knew humanity was going to die. You knew I loved them, that I spent every moment trying to understand them, trying to be part of their world. And you just... let me. Watched me fall in love with a civilization you knew was doomed."
"I did love you," Ikaris said, and for the first time, emotion broke through his control. "I still do. That was never a lie."
"But you loved your mission more." Sersi's voice went cold. "You loved Arishem's approval more. You loved being the perfect soldier more than you loved me or any of us."
"That's not..."
"Don't talk to me." She turned away completely. "Don't look at me. Don't speak to me. We're done. We've been done. I just didn't know it until now."
The pain that crossed Ikaris's face was so profound it made even Druig flinch.
Kingo, who'd been silent throughout, finally found his voice.
"So, uh," he started, his usual theatrical flair completely absent, leaving just a man trying to process the impossible, "just to make sure I understand. We're synthetic beings designed to nurture civilizations so a space god can feed on them. And we've done this before. On other worlds."
"Yes," Ajak confirmed quietly.
"How many?" Kingo's voice shook. "How many worlds have died for this?"
"I don't know. Arishem doesn't share that information."
"Ballpark. Give me a number."
Ajak closed her eyes. "Hundreds, maybe. The Celestials have been doing this since before recorded time."
Kingo laughed. It came out broken, edging toward hysteria. "Hundreds of worlds and we just... we just moved on to the next one. We started over, made new friends and watched them grow. Helped them, loved them, then watched them die. Over and over. Like some kind of Groundhog Day, except instead of learning lessons we're just facilitating genocide."
The awkward silence stretched, and no one knew what to say. What could you say after learning your entire existence was a lie?
Finally, Phastos stood. Sand clung to his pants, and his eyes were red but dry.
"So," his voice came out steady, the engineer forcing himself back into problem-solving mode because the alternative was breaking down completely, "why now? Why gather us now? What changed?"
Ajak took a shaking breath and forced herself to speak. "Someone is interfering with Tiamut. Multiple entities have breached the planetary crust. They're descending toward his chamber. Arishem has ordered us to eliminate the intruders and ensure the Emergence proceeds on schedule"
"Good," Druig said flatly. "Let them kill it and save this world from the horror we helped create."
"It's not that simple," Ikaris cut in. "If Tiamut dies, if he's damaged badly enough that Arishem senses it, the Celestials will come. They'll pass judgment on Earth and erase it from existence. Everyone dies anyway, but without even giving birth to new life. Just... a meaningless deletion."
Makkari's signs were sharp. So, our choices are watch everyone die or ensure everyone dies? Those are the options?
"No," Ajak said, and everyone turned to her. "No, those can't be the only options. There has to be another way. We just need time to find it."
"Time," Sprite laughed bitterly, her child voice making the cynicism hit harder. "Time is exactly what we don't have. That's the whole point, isn't it?"
Thena spoke for the first time since the revelation, her voice eerily calm.
"We go down there." Her eyes were distant, seeing something the rest of them couldn't. "We eliminate the intruders like Arishem commanded. Then we decide."
"Decide what?" Sersi challenged.
"Whether to follow our programming," Thena met her gaze with warrior's clarity, "or choose something else. But we can't make that choice without information. Right now, we're blind. Operating on Arishem's commands and our own emotions. Neither is sufficient."
Gilgamesh nodded slowly. "She's right. I hate it, but she's right. We need to know what we're dealing with before we can figure out what to do about it."
Phastos rubbed his face. "Okay. Okay, that's... that's actually logical. We go down. We see what's happening. We gather data. Then we...At minimum, we need to know who's down there and what they're doing. What if they're making things worse? We can't make decisions without information."
"You can't be serious." Sprite's illusion flickered around her, showing a version of herself as an adult, the form she'd always dreamed of having. "We're just going to kill people because Arishem said so? After everything we just learned?"
"We defend Tiamut first," Ikaris stated. "Then we figure out the rest."
Sersi turned away from him completely. "Don't talk to me."
The pain that crossed Ikaris's face was brief but profound.
Sprite looked at him like he'd torn out her heart. "I trusted you."
"I know."
The awkward silence stretched. Kingo cleared his throat. "Right. So. Ship?"
I'll Run ahead and Scout the approach. Makkari's signs were sharp with anger.
Druig caught her arm gently. "The patient one always wins, love. Earth's not simple anymore. There are beings down there on par with gods, maybe even Celestials. This will be… interesting."
They moved toward the Domo. Gilgamesh flanked Thena, whose distant eyes suggested Mahd Wy'ry threatened at the edges of her control.
Thena's hand found Gilgamesh's. "Promise me something."
"Anything."
"If I lose myself down there. If the Mahd Wy'ry takes me and I can't come back..." She stopped, throat working. "Don't let me hurt you. Don't let me hurt anyone. Just..."
"Stop," Gilgamesh cut her off, his voice carrying absolute conviction. "You're not going to lose yourself. I won't let you. I've spent five thousand years pulling you back from the edge. I'm not stopping now."
"Gil..."
"No. I don't care if it's the end of the world. I don't care if Celestials are involved. You are Thena. The greatest warrior I've ever known. The woman I..." He stopped, the words he'd never quite said hanging in the air.
She squeezed his hand. Understanding. Reciprocating.
"I know," she whispered.
Ikaris flew alone, maintaining distance from the others. Sprite created an illusion of normalcy around herself, hiding tears.
Sersi walked in silence, mind clearly elsewhere.
Karun followed, camera never stopping, capturing everything. The Eternals had become so used to his presence they'd essentially stopped noticing him. He was furniture now. Invisible.
The Domo's interior was exactly as they'd left it centuries ago.
Phastos got to work immediately, fingers flying across interfaces as systems came online. "Stealth field active. Energy drill charging. This is insane. We're drilling to Earth's core. Do you have any idea how hot it is down there?"
"The Domo was built for this," Ajak said quietly. "We've done it before on other worlds."
"Right." Phastos's laugh edged toward hysteria. "Other worlds that we helped kill. Great. Just great."
The ship began to descend.
Karun found a corner, settled in, and kept recording. Seven thousand years of secrets. A family torn apart by revelation. Gods and lies and the end of the world.
This was definitely going to win awards.
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