Permeus stirred, consciousness returning slowly as if wading through thick fog. He did not know how long he had been out but was sure that it had probably been the duration of the hall fight. He did not remember the distance between the citadel and whatever ruins of his castle were left being so long, but it clearly must have been for him to catch a quick nap.

  His body ached. Before tonight, he would have thought that impossible, but after two severe thrashings at the hands of Operas, it was no surprise.

  The wounds inflicted on him should have been fatal had he been anything less than an Origin, though Operas had shown that the only reason he was still alive was not because of his Origin status but his just getting lucky for the first time tonight.

  That was the second time he had evaded the self-proclaimed Origin of the Chasm. He was dead sure if Operas got him again, he would not want to let him leave.

  The wounds had already healed, but the pain that came with them felt as fresh as the pain that came with his last memory of his wife and children. The cool night air rushed past his face. At this moment, he only wished it could penetrate deep enough to blow his thoughts from his mind.

  Beneath him, he felt the steady rhythm of Darkeus’ shadow chariot cutting through the sky.

  For a moment, he simply lay there, disoriented. The last thing he remembered was Operas hoisting him in the air, a blade of darkness poised to pierce his heart. Then there had been... something. Ghouls. Darkeus and escape.

  But it didn’t matter. None of it mattered.

  His mind kept replaying the same horrific scene: the fireball streaking across the night sky, engulfing the chariot carrying Imara and his daughters. The way it had simply... vanished. No trace. No remains.

  Just gone, as if they had never existed at all.

  Greta’s face as the light faded from her eyes. Germaine’s betrayal and transformation. The destruction of Titania. The slaughter of his people.

  He should have felt something. Anything really. Rage. Grief. Anything at all. But he felt only a vast emptiness inside, as if something had hollowed out his very soul.

  “You’re awake,” Darkeus said, glancing down at him. His brother’s face was taut with tension, his eyes constantly scanning the surrounding darkness. Permeus didn’t respond. What was there to say?

  “How did you...?” Permeus finally managed, his voice raspy and weak.

  “Save you?” Darkeus finished for him. “Don’t thank me. "

  “The ghouls were nothing more than a decent distraction.” He paused then added, “They were effective though. Another moment and you would have been...”

  Permeus nodded mechanically, staring up at the stars. They looked the same as they always had. How was that possible? How could the world stay the same, even though everything he knew had been destroyed?

  “I saw what happened to Imara and the twins,” Darkeus asked cautiously. “I am truly sorry.”

  “I couldn’t be sure if it was them from a distance, but I recognized the chariot and I recognized the Pegasi,” Darkeus added. “Really, I am truly sorry.”

  When Permeus remained silent, Darkeus pressed on. “I also saw what happened to Titania. I understand if you are having trouble processing all of this; you have lost a lot.”

  “They’re gone,” Permeus interrupted, his voice hollow. “All of them.”

  Darkeus hesitated, sensing the vast ocean of pain beneath those simple words.

  “Permeus,” he mumbled, trying to console him.

  Permeus closed his eyes.

  “Germaine killed them. He... launched a fireball at their chariot as they were escaping. I watched them burn. I watched them disappear.”

  Darkeus fell silent, steering the chariot through a bank of clouds. When he spoke again, his voice was softer than Permeus had ever heard it.

  “I’m sorry, brother. Truly.”

  They continued in silence for a time, each lost in his own thoughts, especially Permeus. Thinking of whether he could have avoided it if he had not avoided his nightmare or at least had not wasted time to save the worthless shards now inhabiting his pocket. Finally, Darkeus reached down and placed a hand on Permeus’ shoulder.

  “Rest,” he said. “Your body needs to heal.”

  “I admittedly never thought I would have to say that to a fellow Origin,” Darkeus added, finding it quite comical

  “Imagine how I feel,” Permeus said coldly

  “We’ll be at the citadel soon.” Darkeus said, trying to deflect the conversation.

  Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

  Permeus wanted to say that he didn’t deserve rest, that he had failed everyone who depended on him. But exhaustion overwhelmed him, and he surrendered once more to darkness.

  When next he opened his eyes, the chariot was descending toward the courtyard of the citadel. Permeus sat up slowly, taking in the structure's sight, illuminated by torchlight against the dark sky. It stood as it always had, seemingly untouched by the devastation that had consumed Titania.

  His injuries had healed during his unconscious state. His body had recovered completely, even if his spirit was broken.

  As the chariot touched down, Permeus saw the remaining Origins gathered in the courtyard.

  Worry etched deep lines across Desia’s forehead and carved shadows beneath her eyes. Helus clenched his jaw so hard that his cheek muscles twitched. Golobus remained motionless as carved stone. Dalia’s hands trembled visibly as she twisted them together, and Laura’s face had drained of all color.

  “Permeus!” Desia cried out as soon as the chariot came to a halt. She rushed forward, her robes billowing around her as she moved.

  Before he could speak, she had enveloped him in a tight embrace.

  “I can’t believe you’re alive,” she whispered fiercely. “We feared the worst when the city went ablaze and then there was that colossal explosion in the sky.”

  Permeus stood stiffly in her arms, unable to return the embrace. He felt detached from his body, as if watching the scene unfold from a great distance.

  Desia pulled back, searching his face.

  “Permeus? What’s wrong?” Her eyes widened as understanding dawned. “Your family...”

  Darkeus must have shaken his head or made some gesture, because Desia abruptly stopped speaking. She simply tightened her embrace, holding him as if she could somehow keep the broken pieces of him together.

  When she finally released him, her eyes were glistening with unshed tears.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

  “There is no apology in the world that can reverse any of this or restore what has been lost,” Permeus replied.

  “Plus, you wouldn’t be the one who has to apologize,” He added, though he wasn’t even sure who was most responsible between Operas, Germaine and himself

  Helus approached next, his crimson robes darker than usual in the dim light. He placed both hands on Permeus’ shoulders, looking directly into his eyes.

  “Brother,” he said gravely. “What you have endured... there are no words.”

  He pulled Permeus into a brief, powerful embrace. When he stepped back, his expression was solemn but determined.

  “We must speak immediately,” Helus continued. “The situation grows dire with each passing moment.”

  Permeus nodded mechanically. What else could he do? The world was possibly ending. He knew his already had. Despite this, he knew his siblings would require his help, but he was so ridden with guilt, he did not understand why they needed his.

  “Come,” Helus said, guiding him toward the citadel entrance. “We have little time, should we even have any?”

  They took their places around the central table, each Origin settling into their designated seat. Permeus’ gaze would meet none of his siblings.

  Helus took the lead, standing at the head of the table. His imposing figure cast a long shadow across the polished surface.

  “First things first, Permeus,” he began, his deep voice resonating through the chamber, “let me once again express my profound sorrow for what has befallen Titania.”

  He turned to Permeus, his expression grave.

  “For your personal losses, Permeus, there are no adequate words. Know that we grieve with you.”

  The others murmured their agreement, bowing their heads briefly in respect.

  “But we must now focus on the threat at hand,” Helus continued.

  “Darkeus has told us of what he saw during his rescue mission, but we need to understand exactly what occurred. What is this creature that attacked you and has been manipulating all of this?”

  All eyes turned to Permeus, waiting for his account.

  For a long moment, he said nothing, lost in the memory of Imara’s face as she’d climbed into the chariot, of his daughters’ frightened eyes looking back at him. Of their silent trust, he would save them.

  “Permeus?” Helus prompted gently.

  Drawing a deep breath, Permeus forced himself to focus on the present. His voice, when he finally spoke, sounded strange to his own ears — flat and devoid of emotion.

  “He calls himself Operas, Origin of the Chasm, the psychotic cunt ,” Permeus began. “He claims to be... our father.”

  A shocked murmur swept through the room.

  “He said he was supposed to destroy our world on the day it was born, as he had done to others before. But something, our mother or Aurea, I suppose.” He took another breath.

  “He said she condemned him to a long slumber.”

  “Our mother?” Desia asked, leaning forward.

  “Aurea, last I saw her, she told me it was practically impossible for her to manifest into anything more than a thought in my mind. She doesn’t look to me like someone powerful enough to contain a force like Operas. "

  “Maybe she was powerful enough but just lost it,” Laura interjected

  “Why would she give away all that power for something near to nonexistence?” Desia asked.

  “Sounds motherly to me,” Laura answered

  “What would you know about motherhood?” Desia asked

  “A lot more than you,” Laura answered sharply

  “Ladies,” Helus said, trying to stop the two

  “I am only telling the truth. I have a mother, and my sister is one too,” Laura defended herself.

  “I think you meant was one,” Desia replied with venom

  “Why you..?”

  “Enough” Helus exclaimed, requesting peace between them

  “Permeus, continue.”

  Permeus shook his head. He had admittedly lost his train of thought during the argument between Desia and Laura.

  “I don’t know if it’s Aurea or not for sure, but something defeated him. Something he despises.”

  “Apparently, he’s been stirring for decades, able to manifest in creatures of darkness in the underworld. The presence of seven Origins in one place was enough to help him materialize a body.”

  Permeus recounted everything else Operas had revealed — his original plan to kill Dalia and take over her body, his intention to return to the chasm to fully awaken, his desire to kill the Origins first.

  “And Germaine?” Golobus asked quietly.

  Permeus’ jaw tightened.

  “Operas... murdered him like he did the rest. He turned him into a feral titan like them but somehow different.”

  “How different?” Dalia asked.

  “Germaine is still conscious, still self-aware, but he’s compelled to obey. He...” Permeus’ voice faltered. He is responsible for my family’s death. Operas commanded him to do it.”

  When he finished speaking, a heavy silence fell over the chamber. The Origins exchanged troubled glances, the gravity of their situation sinking in.

  “And you fought him?” Dalia asked quietly. “Operas?”

  Permeus nodded, remembering the bizarre sensation of his fist breaking against Operas’ chest.

  “My attacks were useless. It was like an insect striking solid stone. And when he fought back...” He shook his head. “I’ve never encountered such power. I never even knew such power was supposed to exist.”

  “So we’re facing an entity potentially more powerful than all of us combined,” Helus summarized grimly, “who can turn our own creations against us and cannot be killed by conventional means.”

  “I fear you have the truth of it,” Permeus responded. “He has only one desire: to destroy the world.”

  “Could this get any worse?” Aerus asked.

  “Yes,” Permeus replied. “He is coming for us first.”