Providence -The Fine Lines of Reality

1. Fragile Ember

The dimly lit sky faded, and darkness flooded his eyes in the barren husk where nothing seemed habitable. Blinking, the blur led, and darkness followed. Trudging through frigid endlessness, burdened by broken chains, exhaustion overwhelmed him.

The dragging chains provided momentary relief, yet insomnia gripped him like an unwelcome companion. Each time he shut his eyes, he braced against the fading light, exerting all his strength to evade it. The darkness, once a familiar solace, now felt suffocating, threatening. Treading forward uncontrollably, he grits his teeth, determined to ignore it, yet the question lingers in his mind like a haunting echo - what has become of me?

    Continuing to walk, each step sent waves of searing pain through the essence of his being. Dragging his feet through jagged stone brought more relief than enduring this damned affliction. Memories of Zeus's proclamation echoed, accusing him of treasonous crimes for not allowing the unjust suffering of humanity. With each memory, a surge of torment coursed throughout his body, and blood exuded through his pores.

"By the abyss, what infernal torture is this?" The deafening roar of his voice reverberated through the desolate void, bouncing back as if he knew the answer.

In agony, the origin of his pain revealed itself—the Curse Mark of Kane. Zeus, his infamous brother, devised this malevolent gift, a twisted form of humiliation he deemed his "gift to humanity." The curse metastasized around him, pillaging him of his essence, power, mind, body, and soul, subjecting him to unrelenting torment until he decayed into dust.

Zeus crafted this curse out of spite, making gods taste the suffering he believed mortals deserved. Banished from Olympus, he became the unwilling recipient. He threw his head back and let out a bellowing laugh. "Damn you, Zeus!" His curse echoed through the stillness of the motionless sky. "My own blood, how could you be so vain." Reflecting on how feeble his brother, and the other Olympians, cared for him.

Defeated, he walked forward with no destination. "Why is the term family so volatile?" They're the supposed paragons of purity, succumbed to shadows. The fear of the unknown and dethronement tore them apart. In his case, power transcended blood.

Traversing the desolate darkness, he scanned endless nothingness. Slowly, he realized he was in Purgatory—the unclaimed realm above Tartarus and below the Earth.

The realization sank in, its endless darkness gripping his soul. A limbo, meant to purge impurities. Was this his fate?

'With my being here, I must have perished. Well, in that case, I've long since accepted my impurities. However, being here while cursed by the Mark of Kane, eventually, I should cease to exist.' He had come to realize reality is an enigmatic concept, accepting he was never one of the Olympians.

Contemplating his existence, a sliver of hope revealed the opportunity of the void. "What if this realm serves a purpose? Even if not, I'll give it one," reaching out to Purgatory's endlessness. "A fitting home for one cast out by their own."

"If only," letting out a longing sigh as he closed his eyes. As he reopened them, an alluring enigma appeared—a flickering ember. "Where is this from? Do my eyes deceive me?" Seeking clarity in the void. The ember, whether a paradox, or a last glimpse of hope, stirred memories suppressed by the Mark of Kane, and with each memory, the cycle of torment plagued relentlessly.

Memories of the woman he encountered, the first human, and the Titan he befriended, revealed themselves to him in the wake of this ember. Unable to sense another presence in Purgatory, he questioned what or who the ember was and why it returned memories to him. Trembling as he walked closer to the ember. The ember breathed life into Purgatory's desolance.