As punishment for siding with the titans during the war, Atlas was forced to hold the weight of the world on his shoulders. The mass of the universe supported simply by the strength of his back. A task that outweighed him. Symphonies of cracks as Atlas' shoulders splinter and fractured beyond repair. But immortality flowed through his veins, and his sacred blood healed him, keeping the heavens from ever kissing the land.
I hold the weight of the universe on my shoulders, and the burden of secrets in my mind. It was my own father and not the gods who punished me, to recompense for sins in a war I did not fight. Silence rips my heart and soul apart, bringing destruction and the present closer still. But I hold on, with trembling knees and a bleeding back. No hero comes and relieves me of the excruciating pain handed down to me. My mother's whispers feed my soul, who attempts to muster the energy to accomplish this Herculean task. The inner workings of my body begin to fall apart. I'm not a titan with golden blood running through my veins. I do not regenerate and my energy dissipates. Crimson stains the land the sky wishes so desperately to sleep with. After a year of holding the weight of the universe on my shoulders, I give in. Allowing the world to be consumed in darkness and permitting the two fated lovers to finally meet.
