Rebecca POV:
It seems as if every deity has an obsession with throne rooms. Grand, gilded, imposing; each one designed to remind visitors of their insignificance. This is the third throne room I've stepped into in just a month. At least this time, it's an opportunity rather than a judgment, or so I tell myself.
What I did not appreciate, however, was the near-blinding radiance of my surroundings. Towering golden pillars loomed on either side, encrusted with crimson gems that shimmered like drops of blood frozen in time. They stretched impossibly high, supporting an azure ceiling so vast and distant that one might mistake it for the open sky itself. The floor beneath me was laid with ivory-white tiles, polished to an unnatural sheen, each one narrowing slightly as they led toward the throne. Towards him.
The sight that met me was both overwhelming and perplexing. A man sat upon a throne, but calling him simply a 'man' felt like a gross understatement. He was taller than any mortal ought to be, his very presence stretching beyond the confines of his body, his existence demanding attention. Around him, animals of all kinds knelt, their heads bowed in reverence, as if worshipping a force far beyond their comprehension.
As I took another step forward, their expectant gazes turned to me. I could feel the weight of unspoken commands, a silent pressure urging me to lower myself as they had. But I would not. I could not. I have never been one to kneel so easily. Let him prove himself to me, not the other way around.
Stopping before the throne, I met his gaze and spoke with measured defiance, my voice unwavering.
"What can you offer me?"
It was the moment I realized my mistake.
The air around him shifted, thickening with an overwhelming, suffocating presence. It bore down on me with such force that my knees buckled, betraying me before I could resist. My breath caught in my throat as the temperature spiked, an unbearable heat searing through my skin until I could feel blisters forming. I wanted to scream, to fight back, but my voice had abandoned me.
Fear.
For the first time in a long while, I felt true fear. And yet, beneath the agony, something else burned; a different kind of heat. An opportunity. A chance for something greater than myself.
Then, he spoke.
His voice resonated through the chamber, carrying the weight of the sun itself.
"My name is Apollo Sol Invictus."
At the mere utterance of his name, the throne room trembled. Power rippled through the space, invisible yet undeniable, a force that demanded recognition. His name alone carried a charisma I could not define, an authority I had no choice but to acknowledge.
"While my sister has yet to forgive you," he continued, his golden eyes smoldering with something unreadable, "I think you are still useful."
A chill settled over me despite the lingering heat. This was no mere invitation. It was a declaration. A judgment of a different kind.
And I had no idea what it would cost me.
Shawn's POV:
As expected, I was transported to another throne room. But unlike Erik's, this one was… well, sad. Completely barren. No fancy decorations, no grand tapestries, not even a single torch on the walls. Was this even a throne room? It felt more like a cave someone just decided to rule from one day.
The pillars weren't even proper pillars, they were stalagmites shooting up from the ground, impossibly massive, like nature itself decided to play architect. The floor was nothing but packed earth, and there wasn't even a clear walkway to follow. How was I supposed to make a grand entrance with no dramatic path leading up to the throne? Rude.
The darkness here was different, too. Not the creepy, "something's-gonna-jump-me" kind, but the kind that carried presence. It reminded me of my time on tour, deep in the wilderness, where the night pressed in from all sides, heavy but not hostile. This wasn't something to fear. This was something powerful.
And yet, I stood there like an absolute buffoon.
What was I supposed to do? Say something? Take a step? This was clearly some kind of test, right? Some mind game meant to judge my worth? But I wasn't exactly the brightest when it came to puzzles. If this was an IQ test, I had already failed.
As if the universe itself agreed with my self-assessment, a sudden gust of wind blew from behind me, nudging me forward.
…Oh.
So not a test. Just me being an idiot. Cool, cool.
With my nonexistent dignity barely intact, I took a step in the direction the wind pointed. And then another. But with each step, the air grew heavier, pressing down on me like an invisible weight. It was like carrying a boulder on my shoulders; a boulder that doubled in size with every move.
One foot forward. Another step. My knees screamed. My muscles burned. Oh, this was definitely a workout. Whoever ruled this place better appreciate the effort.
When I could bear it no longer, I finally collapsed onto one knee, thankfully, right in front of the throne. So at least I wasn't completely embarrassing. Small victories.
And there he was.
A goliath of a man sat upon the throne, exuding power in its purest form. He was alone, his presence filling the emptiness like he didn't need anyone else to make this place grand. His posture was regal but effortless, the kind of confidence that didn't need to be loud to be terrifying. His eyes bore into me, but there was no scorn, just something I dared to call pride.
I had no idea who he was. But his sheer strength? That, I recognized immediately. That was something I understood. That was something I needed.
Then he spoke, his voice carrying through the cavern like a force of nature itself.
"Greetings, mortal. I am the Endurer of the Heavens, Titan Lord, Atlas."
The weight of the cave seemed to shift, becoming heavier and steadier, like his presence alone held the walls together.
Titan. Wait. Titan?!
Oh. That wasn't great.
I mean, I was pretty sure the Titans were supposed to be the bad guys. That was common knowledge, right? But at the same time… I couldn't deny his power. His absolute, overwhelming strength.
And if I wanted to survive what was coming next, if I wanted to be strong enough, maybe that was exactly what I needed.