The Olympians: The Fall of Kin

The Bane of Death

            Jonah was his name. The name of the killer who went by Spade. His life had been hard. But, then again, in this world, who had an easy one? It seemed that, everywhere he looked, someone had a tragic story. Like—like some god was up there, deeming that the world should move in the most heartrending direction possible.

For some reason, thinking that was the way of things, it always made it easier for him to go on after his parents died.

I mean...if there is a deity—I mean, a deity other than the ones that we were created from—then, I have someone to blame.

Maybe that was why people flocked to religion when things got hard. They could toss their problems onto some nonexistent god or pantheon, their woes cut away and confessed to some priest.

When he'd been a child, he'd believed wholeheartedly in the idea of some higher power—even higher than The Greek Gods. It was ironic really. Most Godkin were atheists. They knew they came from powerful beings, beings that were once thought to be gods because of their insane power. But not him. His parents had been Geneticists who'd thought Darwinian ideas were unequivocally true. And yet, they, who believed that humanity was raised from a tadpole, could believe in some god.

They'd been kind. Kinder than any parent should have been to the son that caused them nothing but trouble.

"Mom, I'm sorry that I messed up. I promise, I'll pay everything back. I—I didn't mean to wreck it."

He remembered that night with fondness, at least, in hindsight. The night he'd shattered his leg in that wreck after getting plastered on a few daquiris, all because he'd wanted to get laid. He thought for sure that his mom and dad were gonna' kick his ass. First, he'd gotten expelled from his sixth school. Then, burned down their house when he was sixteen while he was smoking a bowl in the attic. So, naturally, he'd assumed that the car he'd totaled was the last straw.

But his mom sat him down on the couch, while his dad watched calmly and silently as he always had.

"Son, everyone makes mistakes. It's a part of our nature. The point is to learn from them. And, if you can't learn from them, then talk to someone who can help, be it me, your dad, or even God."

He snorted. "Right. Mom...how can you believe all that stuff? I mean, you...you got stuck with a freak for a son."

He'd been referencing the late bloom of his powers. Only a few weeks prior, when he'd wrecked. Somehow, he had miraculously teleported out of the vehicle at the moment of impact. He'd come out of the wreck with minimal damage. And, honestly, he'd been more afraid that his parents were going to abandon him for what he was than for what he'd done to their car. And, despite the fact that he hadn't been able to tell them that, they'd known. They always knew what he was thinking. "Son, we couldn't be happier. These powers were a gift. If you wouldn't have developed them at that moment—God—if you hadn't, you would have died. We're happier than words can describe that you developed abilities—Omicron level no less. Your father and I are Alphas, barely one step above from humanity."

Those were the last words she'd said to him.

Only two hours later, they boarded a flight set for the business capital of the world, Rasen City. He didn't know why. He only knew that they'd found something suspicious regarding their boss: Roman Titanus.

Which is why he'd offered three years of his life to watch the bastard. All so that he could have this chance. This one chance.

For revenge.