Aelior stood frozen.
The dagger still lay at his feet, the echo of its fall fading into the kind of silence that made the world feel… hollow. His eyes darted to the wall — the poster was blank, the man gone, the air too still. His breath came fast, uneven.
"What the fuck just happened?" he whispered, voice trembling. "Where did that human go? Is he… gone because of me? Did I erase his existence forever or something? Do I—" His voice broke. "Do I have powers now?"
The words sounded foreign, like they didn't belong in his mouth — like a joke whispered by fate. But as they hung in the air, a shiver crawled down his spine.
Then it hit him — the memory, sharp as lightning through his skull.
The war. The screams. His mother's final cry. His father's ash carried by the wind. His siblings' bodies twisted, lifeless. His home — Erythros, the land of veins and skies — burning beneath the gods' wrath.
It came crashing back all at once, like the heavens collapsing inside him.
He stumbled backward, clutching his head, shaking. "No… no, no." His breath hitched, vision blurring with unshed tears. "They're gone. They're all gone."
A sound split the silence — a blaring horn.
A truck sped past, metal roaring inches from his side. The shock jolted him upright, heart hammering. "Oh—Jesus!" he gasped, stumbling to the sidewalk.
The world around him suddenly came into focus — alive.
Cars rumbled down gray roads, their lights blinking like tiny stars. People crossed the street, laughing, shouting, speaking into glowing rectangles in their hands. Vendors yelled over each other, selling food that smelled of oil and spice. Dogs barked. Somewhere, a musician played a song that no one fully listened to.
And among them, a girl walked her golden dog down the sidewalk. Her hair caught the sunlight, earbuds in her ears, humming to a tune only she could hear. The dog wagged its tail, bumping against her leg. She laughed — a small, pure laugh, bright as dawn.
Aelior froze.
That sound — that simple, mortal sound — struck him harder than thunder. It was warm. Alive. Unafraid.
He swallowed hard, eyes burning. "This… this is Earth." The word felt strange, thick on his tongue. "How did I end up here?"
He looked up. Towers of glass and steel scraped the heavens, glinting under the sunlight like broken shards of Olympus remade by mortal hands. Neon lights blinked, screens moved with color and motion, telling stories he couldn't understand.
He wandered, bare feet brushing the city's cold pavement, lost in the chaos. The world buzzed, breathed, lived — yet he felt more alone than ever.
Then he saw them — humans kneeling before shrines and altars, their faith scattered among gods. Statues of Jesus, crosses of silver. Offerings laid before images of Vishnu and Lakshmi. Incense curling before the name of Allah, chanted with reverence.
And then… two names whispered in his ears.
Selanyth. Kaerion.
He turned — and there, on a small corner altar surrounded by candles and flowers, mortals prayed to his parents. His mother's symbol carved in crimson stone. His father's sigil painted in pale blue light.
For the first time in ages, Aelior smiled. A small, fragile thing. They were remembered. Somewhere, somehow — the gods still lived in mortal memory.
But the smile didn't last.
He saw children running with their parents — laughing, smiling, carefree. Every laugh echoed the one his sister once had. Every touch reminded him of what his mother had given. And every step of every mortal made him ache for the home that was gone.
The world moved on — thriving in the silence left by dead gods.
He kept walking, through the crowd, unseen. Shoulders brushed him, voices murmured around him, but no one looked his way. Then suddenly — the air shifted.
A shiver ran through him. The world flickered.
For an instant, everything… skipped.
Colors dulled. The chatter stopped. A man in a suit froze mid-laugh, coffee spilling from his hand, eyes blank with confusion — as if he'd forgotten what laughter even was.
Aelior's heart dropped. "No…" His voice cracked. "It's happening again."
He stumbled backward, fell hard onto the cold concrete, staring at the fading faces around him. People blurred, voices dimmed, existence thinning like smoke.
"I didn't want this!" His hands shook violently. "What's going on? Why are people around me disappearing?"
He looked around — terrified, desperate — but the crowd moved on, unbothered, unseeing. Nobody noticed the trembling boy on the ground.
Ignored. Again.
Tears blurred his vision. His chest heaved with guilt and grief. He had no family, no world, no home — and now, even here, his very existence seemed to erase what he touched.
He lowered his head, shoulders shaking silently.
Then — a touch.
Warm. Steady. Real.
"Hey…"
The voice was soft, cutting through the storm in his chest. "Are you okay?"
Aelior froze.
Slowly, he lifted his gaze.
A stranger knelt before him — human eyes meeting his, not passing through him. And for the first time since Olympus burned…
someone saw him.