─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆
❛ Here we are at the end of the world, waiting for the sky to break into flames─but we are together, as if the stars had aligned. ❜
Percy Jackson never thought he would fall in love with a traitor.
[completed - editing]
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✩━━━ chapter nineteen, requiem in d minor. ❝Telling myself I won't go there. Oh, but I know that I won't care, tryna wash away all the blood I've spilt. This lust is a burden that we both share, two sinners can't atone from a lone prayer.❞
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GODS DRAW THEIR STRENGTH NOT JUST FROM WORSHIP OR THRONES BUT FROM THE ESSENTIAL ROLE THEY PLAY IN SHAPING AND GOVERNING VARIOUS ASPECTS OF THE WORLD. Their domains, responsibilities, and the influence they hold over various aspects of human life and the natural world are what truly empower them—From Zeus's control over the sky to Aphrodite's dominion over love and desire, each god's unique domain contributes to the intricate balance of the cosmos. The thrones serve as a focal point for their divine energy, comparable to a conduit for their abilities. Their destruction severs their connection to these domains, weakening their divine authority and diminishing their power. Without them, they become vulnerable.
Driven by a surge of sentimentality, Micah chose to destroy Dionysus's throne first.
The god of wine-making isn't a threat, undeserving of being regarded as an adversary to the House of Midnight when the likes of Ares or Hephaestus serve Zeus. His existence held as much significance as the fading sun in an eternal night. He fell short of the remarkable Zagreus—Dionysus represented a blemish, utterly repugnant to Micah, nothing more than a subject of mockery, unworthy of respect or regard. His absence would be barely discernible.
It would be more sensible to weaken a god like Ares or Athena, but a leaden weight settled upon Hiroki's chest all those years ago, an anchor of sorrow that pulled at the very core of his being. Hestia and Micah's brothers are right; he is soft-hearted. Memories plague him like distant stars scattered across the night sky, never reachable but always present, the death of each heavenly constellation resurrecting memories of his previous life like a ghost of a moment once lived. The echoes of his past never truly wane—The heaviness of Hiroki's pain lingers in the vast expanse of his heart. And so, as Micah gazes at the thrones, he yearns for closure. A sense of justice that can never be fully realized.
You'll be lucky if you don't become an orphan within the hour! What will your dad do—Run to his mommy again, huh?
Micah isn't Hiroki; Still, he wanted to see Dionysus bow before him, pleading for absolution that would forever remain out of reach. He'll never forgive. It is the only thing he can do for Hiroki.
Morpheus, attuned to every awful facet of Micah, chuckled as he recognized his brother's thoughts.
"Good, little brother!" The god of dreams erupted in cheers, applauding as the half-blood made his way toward a particular throne, scythe gripped firmly in his hand. "Dionysus will be the first to pay for what he has done! Excellent choice, little brother! Truly, you've matured wonderfully! If you keep it up, I'll give you a gift that's even more special later!"
Micah devoted himself to the collective gaze of the assembled deities, their eyes fixed on his every movement and gesture, unconcerned by his brother's pointless remarks. He could sense the weight of their hopes, and expectations bearing down upon him, the phantom presence of his grandmother urging him towards the colossal thrones that loomed ahead, awaiting his ascension.
