What comes after me isn’t a being—it’s a force.

  She is a woman, and she is a dove. She is the first ray of sunlight that brushes your face on a cold morning, the whisper of foam that kisses the shore. She’s a smile you’ll miss—perhaps your own—as she is both the vanity in the eye of every mirror and the blood that streaks its jagged shards.

  And so, I don’t run. There’s nowhere to escape.

  The air thickens, mists of impossible colors swirling around me, filling my senses with scents and flavors I can’t name. They bind me, pulling me forward, a puppet on invisible strings, until I find myself cradled on the palm of her hand.

  “Jaune,” Aphrodite purrs, her voice honeyed and liquid, her lips impossibly lush. “Oh, sweet Jaune… Do you feel it? Can you hear it? Can you smell it?”

  I don’t know what she means. It’s impossible to know. Her presence is colossal, bearing down on me like the unrelenting sun, focused entirely on the insignificant speck that I am. I can’t breathe.

  “It’s my heart, Jaune…” Her laughter is silk over steel, her fingers trailing down the perfect lines of her abdomen. She teases her own thigh, her essence shimmering into form, every movement a calculated perfection. “Artemis told me. Now I want to know everything. No, wait!”

  She reclines into the lush garden around us, her hair spilling like rivers of liquid, shimmering gold over the blossoms. “Show me, pup. Show me what you did to that poor, little thing. Ravage me—let me feel how mortals sweat and gasp—”

  “Aphrodite!” I manage to scream, forcing the words out of my strangled lungs.

  “Oh…” She tilts her head, her expression shifting to a feigned pout. “Too tight? They always say they love—”

  Her crushing presence lifts, only for her to close the distance in an instant, leaning over me like a wild predator. I’m pinned to the ground, her body coiled with dangerous grace. Her eyes, dark and fathomless, consume me whole.

  “Jaune…” Her voice wavers, the faintest crack breaking her hypnotic spell. A jagged ache sears through my chest. “Why don’t you smell like anyone’s sweat?”

  “We… didn’t…”

  Time fractures. There’s a moment I can’t define—a split second stretched into eternity. The air turns cold, the light dims, and joy evaporates as though it had never existed. There are no clouds, no stars—only an endless void pressing down.

  Then, the sting.

  Her hand strikes my face, and for a moment, my soul is torn from my body. Pain blossoms, dizzying and absolute, as I blink against the vertigo.

  Aphrodite cries. The sound is unnatural, her tears heavy as the weight of eternity. Somewhere, in some distant corner of existence, a hundred thousand birds are never born to sing.

  “Why am I not good enough for you, Jaune?!” she screams, her voice raw and desperate. Her anguish tears through the stillness, each word a blade. “I’ve given you everything! Everything! That I am, that I have! And what do I get? Excuses?!”

  Her sobs are uncontrollable, shaking her form. All around us, the vibrant garden withers to ash under the weight of her despair. She clutches herself, her arms wrapping tightly.

  “I try so hard!” she cries. “For you, for us! Why can’t I have something for myself? Why don’t I deserve love? Am I a toy? A bitch in heat for you to lead on and never sate? A hole, to be used and abused until it stretches lose?!”

  Her words falter, breaking into a whisper so quiet, it chills me to the bone. “Why don’t you love me?”

  At that exact moment, two figures rush towards me. One is as swift as a god’s breath, carried by her words to deliver a punishment I cannot endure, coldly exerting its role at the end of life.

  The other one is even faster, and so Aphrodite’s words are left behind, a sentence of doom both heard and unrecieved.

  By the time I realize I’ve moved, Mount Olympus is gone. Instead, I find myself in a realm beyond human comprehension. I cannot tell if I walk upon the surface of the sea or the soft-blue fabric of the heavens, but I stand between two small, twin islands adrift in the space between night and day.

  “How…”

  “Ah!Youwokeupalready?Don’tdragbehindthen!”

  Hermes. Of course.

  Before I can blink, he’s gone—a streak of motion dissolving into the horizon, already bounding onto one of the islands, leaving a faint shimmer in his wake.

  Unwilling to linger on what I’ve just witnessed, I move forward. My steps lead me to a surprisingly modest structure: a large, circular wooden shack crowned with a roof of immense, dark-green leaves. Inside, Hermes stands before a young man with golden hair and deeply tanned skin.

  “So… Anyways.WhendidyousayMissy’scomingback?” Hermes’s words tumble out, quick as the wind, barely tethered to coherence. “Don’t think she’ll be thrilled if Dites kicks the bucket like this. Mhm… Can you imagine? It’d be hilarious. Tragic, but hilarious.”

  “No one’s dying, Hermes,” Apollo groans, his golden eyes fixed somewhere far away. “As for my sister, your guess is as good as mine. You know she needs time—and space.”

  “But you could reach her,” Hermes says, his grin as bright and mischievous as ever.

  “If you think that would help, sure. But I’d rather not unleash her... talents on just any issue. She has a way of solving problems with blood, and there’s been more than enough of that already.”

  I step into the shack’s threshold, the wood cool underfoot. Both gods turn toward me. Apollo’s expression is one of mild surprise. Hermes merely shrugs, his smile unfaltering.

  “Why…”

  “You send me to take a look at their meeting, I go take a look at their meeting. Then I’m there, take a look, now he’s here. Already met. You can meet him.”

  “That… might have been a good decision,” Apollo mutters.

  “Look, I have things to do. Here.” In a blink, Hermes produces a bundle of papers and thrusts them into my hands. “Just pretend I’m still here. I’ll be back before you know it.”

  And like that, he’s gone.

  “What… is happening to Aphrodite?” I ask hesitantly. The air feels thick, tense. “This isn’t because of me, is it?”

  Apollo chuckles softly, shaking his head. “Come with me… Jaune, right? Sorry, I try not to involve myself too deeply in my sister’s affairs. We already share enough.” Stepping out of the simple abode, he gestures for me to follow. “Walk with me. There’s much to be done, and we shouldn’t waste a moment.”

  With no reason to refuse, I follow him into the brilliant Caribbean sunlight. The warmth presses against my skin as we walk. “Is that why you sent Hermes? Did you know something was going to happen?”

  If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

  “Clever. I like that.” Apollo glances sidelong at me. “But that’s not what I need from you right now. Tell me, Jaune—how much has my sister told you about us? About our existence, our origins?”

  “You…” I falter, piecing together fragmented memories. “You came from another world—a different world. There were humans there, like me, connected to the gods.”

  Apollo nods, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “This… shift in realms and roles isn’t something we take lightly. We are ancient beings, rooted like trees to one land. Some of us, like my sister, adapt quickly. She’s found people who resonate with her essence and message, quickly embedding herself in their beliefs and traditions across these fleeting decades.”

  There’s something magnetic about the way he speaks. Each word feels deliberate, infused with an almost lyrical quality. His voice flows effortlessly, its cadence carrying emotions as naturally as the tide carries the shore.

  “And then, there are others…” he continues as our steps lead us to the beach. He shields his eyes from the blinding sun with a hand. “Some of us do not adapt well to sudden change. And Aphrodite’s domain, vast as it is, narrows in such a way that it becomes difficult for her to truly grasp human souls.”

  “She…” I hesitate, knowing correction is inevitable. “She doesn’t seem weak. If anything—”

  “You thought she’d be the strongest?” He laughs softly, the sound as warm as the sun overhead. “Once, in another time, on another world, perhaps she was. But tell me this—what is love? Is a love poem an offering to her, or to me? Does the death of a valiant warrior defending his family belong to Aphrodite, or to Ares? Is the love of a sister for her brother the reverence she craves?” His gaze grows distant, and for the first time, his radiant features darken. “All beings inevitably desire, but… when you aim for the whole of mankind and beyond, even the fiercest storms can feel like a drizzle.”

  “You mentioned she’s dying,” I say carefully.

  One of the papers in my hand suddenly ignites, burning away in an instant. Hermes’s voice carries on the wind, sharp and irreverent. “Technically, we’re all drying. She’s just doing it faster than the rest of us. Even me!”

  “Always one step ahead, aren’t you…” Apollo mutters, his tone laced with both frustration and amusement. He turns back to me, his expression softening. “I may have overstated things for a mortal. Aphrodite will not die today, not without further provocation. But her Spirit Origin is becoming rather unstable. Every time she loses control, her time on this plane shortens significantly. Ordinarily, I’d say there’s nothing we can do to stop it from gaining another crack, but…” He pauses, studying me. “The fact that you survived her outburst may prove… advantageous.”

  “What do I need to do?” I ask, my voice firmer now, even as anxiety coils in my chest.

  Apollo takes a deep breath, flexing his fingers. With deliberate precision, he twists one finger, then pulls it free with an audible snap. A fragment of light forms in his hand—soft, golden, and pulsating with a gentle rhythm. “This should help her maintain her form, for now. If you can guide her to the lower realms as planned, it will buy us the time we need to stabilize her Divine Origin. It won’t be easy, but it’s better than nothing.”

  Before I can respond, another paper burns in my hand. “Hold up, sunshine,” Hermes’s voice interjects. “Aren’t ya gonna tell the kid about the chance he dies? Let’s just say I barely managed to yank him away from Thanatos’s grip. What are the chances he even gets to her? About a coinflip, give or take?”

  Apollo groans audibly, rubbing his temples. “It wouldn’t be if you were—"

  “Aaand, I’m back.” Hermes suddenly appears at my side, grinning as if he hadn’t just materialized out of thin air. “So! Which route are you taking? Hephaestus or Poseidon? Pick your poison.”

  “I don’t even know how a meeting Poseidon would work right now.” Apollo shakes his head, exasperation flickering in his tone. “Take him. Give me twenty-four hours, and I’ll figure out how to convince Hephaestus she deserves to stay alive.”

  “Alright, it’s your funeral,” Hermes quips, flashing a grin sharp enough to split clouds. Before I can respond, he grabs my arm, his grip firm but strangely weightless. “What do you say we make sure you don’t slow me down?”

  “Hermes…” I attempt to smile. “Lend me your Speed.”

  ?

  It’s hard to understand how absurd the idea of standing still really is until you’ve experienced the alternative. Until you can be anywhere you want, the moment you want, without the weight of time holding you back.

  At first, it’s disorienting. The vast, infinite layers of the divine realm unfold around me, an endless cascade of drifting light and shadow. There’s no ground, no sky—just an eternity of space and possibility. I’m here, then I’m not. I’m lost, then I’m found. Reality flickers between moments, and before I can make sense of it, I’m moving again. Always moving.

  “Ha-ha! Not bad for a first-timer,” Hermes calls out, his laughter ringing like the clash of silver bells. “Almost looked like you were keeping up with me!”

  I wasn’t.

  What Hermes does can’t be called running. It’s more like... ceasing to exist in one place and reappearing in another. Not teleporting, but rather choosing a point in reality and willing it closer. A sensation that defies logic. My legs move instinctively, a human reflex more than a necessity. It feels like I’m playing at the idea of motion rather than actually engaging in it.

  It’s strange. Disjointed. Like wearing a borrowed body, like constantly waking up until you cannot possibly remember what a dream is.

  Before I can think too hard about it, we’re back—standing at the edge of the storm-like force that radiates from Aphrodite’s dreadful presence. The air is thick and heavy with her power, oppressive but still faintly alluring, like the remnants of a melody you can’t quite place.

  “Just one question,” I ask, my voice unsteady. “Why me?”

  “Short answer?” He shrugs, his grin slipping into something softer, almost sympathetic. “She won’t be mad at you because we made you do it. With luck, by the time she’s back to herself, she won’t be mad at us either.” He flashes that silver grin again, though his tone darkens just slightly. “The worst part about helping someone is convincing them they needed help in the first place.”

  “Are all of them like that?”

  “Just the ones I’ve met.” His reply is quick, punctuated with a wink, but then the lightness fades. His expression sharpens, and his presence feels heavier somehow, as if trying to slow the moment. “Apollo’s light will protect you, but don’t lean on it, for it isn’t real. Don’t look back, there won’t be time for it. Make the most of every step—and run. Run not to survive, but as if your life ends at the finish line.”

  He’s gone—a streak of cracking light and laughter, leaving me alone at the precipice.

  I clutch Apollo’s finger, which has now transformed into a faint torch of soft, golden light. Its warmth is faint but steady, a fragile promise in a place devoid of comfort. Lowering one knee to the ground, I let myself savor the stillness for a moment, the reassuring solidity of the earth beneath me. It might be the last time I feel anything so stable.

  Ahead, the horizon is consumed by a massive bubble—a colossal dome that swallows everything in its path. Inside, there’s nothing but darkness, deep and isolating, and a cold that cuts as sharply as bitter nails against skin. It’s as though the entire space has been exiled from light, warmth, and life itself.

  I take a breath, holding it as if to anchor myself, and step forward.

  I don’t advance—I’m pulled.

  It feels like falling into a pool of frozen tears.

  The shadows meet me instantly, clinging to my skin like tar, wrapping around my limbs and dragging them down. They weigh me, turning every movement into a battle. Then comes the pressure. It’s not just physical—it’s crushing, a force radiating from the center of the garden where Aphrodite lays, her shimmering form at once radiant and broken. It’s as if the gravity here answers only to her, pulling me into her orbit. Running straight toward her is impossible. I’m caught in the current of energy swirling around her, a vortex of despair that pulls me sideways, spiraling closer inch by inch.

  Nothing could survive here. No life, no breath, no hope.

  And yet, I’m not alone.

  Shapes move in the periphery—dark, shifting things that evade sight but linger at the edge of perception. They’re not creatures; they’re sickness given form, intelligent and malicious. Their presence presses against my mind, whispering horrors I can’t understand but feel in my bones. They fester in this place, drawn to the agony and tragedy that hangs heavy in the air, feeding on the banquet of Aphrodite’s fraying divinity.

  Every step is a struggle against the weight, the shadows, and the unseen predators that seem to salivate at my very existence. But I press on, clutching Apollo’s faint light as though it might burn away the dread.

  For now, it will have to be enough.

  And yet, I feel it—a darker shadow moving within this sea of nightmares. It doesn’t rush, but it doesn’t hesitate, an unrelenting force of nature drawing closer with each heartbeat I dare to walk on this withered ground. This is something deeper, older, inevitable. A race I was forced into—and though I’ve been given a head start, my soul knows the truth. The reaper will reach me.

  The thought gnaws at the edge of my mind, but I push it away. There’s no time for fear.

  I focus, letting my consciousness slip further into Hermes’s domain. The world around me blurs and frays, the oppressive weight replaced by the disorienting vastness of his realm. For a moment, I am everywhere and nowhere, floating on the edge of infinity. Then, in the blink of an eye, I move.

  It’s not running—not in any sense that a mortal would understand. It’s a single, deliberate step across the underside of the world, a step that pulls me just beyond death’s cold reach. And when I resurface, I’m there—standing directly before her.

  Aphrodite trembles, her once radiant form reduced to a fragile silhouette, flickering like a dying ember. She is broken, beautiful, and terrifying all at once. Her presence is overwhelming on a maddening sense, and I feel my knees falter under the sheer weight of her despair.

  Without hesitation, I tighten my grip on Apollo’s finger and snap it cleanly in two.

  The flare erupts like a silent explosion, a light so pure that my eyes cannot perceive it. But I feel it—an energy that surges outward, encompassing us both, cutting through the oppressive darkness like a blade through mist.

  For a fleeting moment, I sense hope, and I wonder if it’s mine.

  ?

  “Awwww! You do love me!”

  Aphrodite's voice coos with delight just as she envelops me in a smothering embrace. For a moment, she’s all I can see, all I can smell, all I can feel—my entire existence consumed in a suffocating storm of softness. It’s both affectionate and terrifying, her grip tightening until my face is buried unceremoniously in her chest.

  I wake up, gasping for air, drenched in sweat and on the edge of asphyxiation.

  Rin stirs beside me, her ears twitching as her eyes snap open, startled. She glances around the room, her gaze darting to me before she relaxes, pulling herself closer. Without a word, she burrows her face into my shoulder, nudging me back down onto the mattress. Her lips press softly against my neck, syncing with the erratic rhythm of my heartbeat. Occasionally, she sneaks in a playful little bite, whenever she realizes or not.

  I rest a hand on her head, fingers threading gently through her hair as I try to calm my scrambled thoughts. My brain struggles for coherence, for something to say.

  “Me, you really got yourself a freaky one, huh…” Aphrodite's voice cuts through the haze, her face appearing over my shoulder with a mischievous grin. “You’ll need to train the little s—”

  What was that?

  I don’t even process her words, the panic still rings in my ears like a cruel echo.

  “Oh, c’mon. I can’t be perfect all the time,” she purrs, tilting her head with mock innocence. “It was just a little accident. What matters is that you came galloping to save me. My sweet, handsome stallion.”

  You could have died! I could have died!

  Her grin falters slightly as she leans closer, her breath warm against my ear. “I know,” she whispers. “So shouldn’t we make the most of today? Who knows if we’ll get another chance tomorrow?”

  Words fail me. The anger bubbling in my chest is so raw I can’t even shape it into coherent thoughts. She feels it—of course, she does—and wisely steps back, her teasing giving way to a moment of genuine regret.

  “Jaune, I—”

  Before she can finish, the sound of a door chime cuts through the tension. It rings again. And again.

  Rin groans softly, stirring under the sheets, her golden eyes peeking up at me. As the noise persists, I glance at her half-naked form and let myself enjoy it for a moment. Leaning down, I press a kiss to her lips, savoring the warmth and the way her entire being seems to pause, focused solely on me as my hands devour her skin with genuine longing.

  When I finally pull away, she smiles, her finger absently tracing her lips as if to hold on to the memory.

  “I’ll handle it,” I say, grabbing a shirt. “Probably nothing.”

  She nods, curling into the sheets with a happy hum as I force myself to leave her warmth behind.

  Half-heartedly, I make my way to the door, irritation rising with each insistent chime. By the twentieth ring, I yank it open, prepared to vent my frustration. Weiss stands on the other side, her arms crossed and her face set in an expression that’s trying very hard to be intimidating. Unfortunately for her, it only makes me want to grab her adorable cheeks.

  “I’ve come in search of assistance,” she declares, her voice clipped and aristocratic. “I regret to inform you that we’ve been harboring a traitor—a dirty, murderous Faunus and, worse even, a member of the White Fang—hiding right under our noses!”

  I close the door.

  By the time I turn around, Pyrrha has wandered into the living room, her brow furrowed in mild concern. She looks at my half-on shirt and disheveled face.

  “Who was that?” she asks softly.

  “Oh, don’t worry,” I reply, waving a hand dismissively. “I think Weiss is having a racism again.”

  “I CAN HEAR YOU!”