"Kairos, enough!" Aion, the god of eternal time, appeared beside them, his expression a mixture of concern and authority. He reached out, placing a hand on Kairos's shoulder, trying to pull him back. "This isn't the way."
But Kairos wasn't ready to relent. He shook off Aion's hand, his focus remaining on Alex. "Do you even remember? One of us… one of the time gods is gone because of you!" His voice broke with frustration, his grip on Alex's collar trembling. "And you don't even care! You're the hope, the one who was supposed to—" He cut himself off, his rage twisting into something darker, more desperate. "But all you can think about is yourself."
Aion stepped in again, this time more forcefully. "Kairos, that's enough!" His voice held a commanding tone, one that even Kairos couldn't ignore. Reluctantly, Kairos released his grip, shoving Alex away as he did. Alex stumbled back, his breath catching in his throat as he tried to process what was happening.
The two gods faced each other, tension crackling between them like static. Aion turned to Alex, his expression softening, though it was still filled with the weight of what Kairos had said. "You have to understand, Alex. The choices you make affect more than just yourself. We—" Aion hesitated, glancing at Kairos, "—we've lost someone important. And we think it might be because of what you represent, what you've chosen."
Alex stood there, still reeling from the confrontation. He could feel the eyes of the other gods on him, their silent judgment heavy in the air. The anger, the blame in Kairos's voice echoed in his mind. He had come here seeking his own path, his own freedom, but now… now he was faced with the reality that his existence might have consequences far beyond what he could have imagined.
For the first time, the weight of his choices truly pressed down on him. He wasn't just a boy seeking his way. He was something more, something that the gods themselves were concerned about, something that could change the very fabric of time.
Kairos took a step back, his anger slowly ebbing away into something more akin to sorrow. "You were supposed to be different," he muttered, more to himself than to anyone else. "You were supposed to save us, not…"
Aion placed a hand on Kairos's shoulder once more, this time with more understanding. "He's still young, Kairos. Let him find his way."
The gods' words weighed heavily on Alex as he stood there, his mind swirling with doubt and confusion. The peace he had felt just moments before was shattered, replaced with a new, terrifying understanding of the responsibility he carried.
The gods had never seen Kairos, the ever-cheerful god of fleeting time, so broken.
One moment, Kairos was raging, his golden eyes ablaze with fury, his hands clenched into fists. The next, as if his strength had suddenly left him, he fell to his knees before Alex, his entire being trembling with a deep, unspoken grief. His hands dug into the marble floor, his head bowed low as if even the weight of holding it up had become too much to bear.
The sight shocked the Olympian Gods into silence. For eons, Kairos had been a beacon of light and laughter among them, his whimsical nature a constant in their eternal existence. Yet here he was, kneeling before a mortal, tears brimming in his eyes.
The gods around him looked on in stunned silence. It was a rare sight—Kairos, a figure of immense power and authority, reduced to this state by something so personal and intangible.
With his head bowed Kairos spoke in a voice barely above a whisper, raw with emotion. "You don't understand," he began, his words trembling. "We've lost something important, something crucial. It's as if a part of us has been erased, and we can't even remember what was lost. It's not just a piece of time. It's… it's a part of our very essence. And we can't even mourn what we don't remember."
His voice cracked, and he clenched his hands into fists on the floor, knuckles white. "It's a form of despair unlike any other—knowing that something irreplaceable is gone, and yet you can't grasp what it was or why it mattered so much."
His eyes, glazed with pain, looked up at Alex. "And you… You're at the center of it all. How can you be so selfish, so willing to walk your path when the very fabric of existence has been torn apart? Do you even care about what you've done to us?"
Alex stood frozen, his heart pounding in his chest. He had never seen such raw emotion from a god before—never expected to see it. Kairos's anguish washed over him, pressing into him like an invisible weight, one he wasn't sure he was capable of carrying. The gods had always seemed so untouchable, so far removed from human suffering. But here, now, Kairos looked… broken. Human, almost.
"I…" Alex began, but his throat tightened, the words dying before they could escape. What could he say? How could he possibly respond to a god kneeling in despair before him? His mind reeled. He hadn't asked for any of this. He hadn't wanted to be caught in the games of gods and immortals.
But a part of him understood Kairos's pain. Alex had lost his own life once, lost everything he had known and cared about in a moment of betrayal. And now, in this second chance, all he wanted was to live—live for himself, not for anyone else.
"Call me selfish," Alex finally said, his voice trembling, though he tried to hold it steady. "Maybe I am. Maybe I don't care about the gods or the responsibilities you say I have. I just want to be free. To live a life that belongs to me, not to fate, not to any grand design."
Kairos remained kneeling, his face still contorted in grief, but there was a flicker of understanding in his gaze now. Alex's words hung in the air, heavy with truth and conflict. He was just a boy, trying to claim his existence, while the gods fought to keep him tethered to something greater than himself.
And yet, Alex couldn't shake the feeling that no matter how much he tried to distance himself from the gods and their plans, he was bound to them in ways even he couldn't fully comprehend.
The other gods watched in silence, their once-aloof expressions softened by the weight of the moment. Even the Watcher, who had remained detached throughout most of the ceremony, seemed to regard Alex with new eyes as if seeing something in him that hadn't been there before. Something dangerous, yes—but also something profound.
Kairos lowered his head again, his voice barely audible. "Is that… is that too much to ask for? To remember them? Whoever they were, whatever they meant to us?"
The question hung in the air between them, unanswered. And for the first time in a long while, Alex wasn't sure if there even was an answer.
Because even as he claimed his freedom, he felt the pull of something deeper. Something that tied him not just to his fate, but to the fate of the gods themselves.
*****
The silence in the Pantheon was heavy with the weight of unspoken words and emotions. Athena, with her usual calm and commanding presence, broke the silence, her voice resonating through the grand hall. "Time is short," she said, her gaze shifting from Kairos to Alex. "You must choose your path, Alexius Harrison. Each of us offers a place for you, but the choice must be yours."
The gods, still reeling from the raw display of emotion from Kairos, now turned their attention to Alex. Zeus offered the power of storms and leadership. Poseidon extended his dominion over the seas and strength. Hera promised wisdom and protection, while Hades hinted at control over the realms of life and death. Yet, Alex's gaze lingered on Apollo, who stood with a serene and welcoming demeanor, holding the symbol of healing.
Alex took a deep breath, his mind racing with thoughts of his values and desires. Despite the weight of the gods' offers, he felt a deep-seated need to make a choice that reflected who he truly was, not who he could become.
"I've thought about it," Alex said, his voice steady and resolute. "I don't want to wield power to destroy or to enforce authority. I want to help, to heal, and to protect. I want to make a difference in a way that saves lives rather than takes them. That's why… I choose Apollo."
Apollo's eyes lit up with a warm, approving glow. He stepped forward, his presence exuding a gentle light that seemed to brighten the entire Pantheon. "A wise choice," Apollo said softly, his voice imbued with kindness. "To heal and to protect is a noble path."
The other gods exchanged glances, their expressions a mixture of respect and contemplation. Despite the tension and disappointment in the air, they could not deny the sincerity of Alex's choice.
Alex took one last look at the gods, their forms bathed in the ethereal glow of the Pantheon's light. He felt the weight of their gazes upon him, but he stood firm, his decision made. Slowly, he turned and walked towards the exit, the echo of his footsteps resonating in the vast hall.
As he stepped out into the cool, crisp air of the outside world, he felt a sense of finality and determination. The Pantheon behind him seemed to fade into the background, its grandeur and divinity juxtaposed against his own simple, yet resolute, choice.
Inside the Pantheon, the gods watched him leave. Kairos remained on his knees, his face still marked by grief, but now touched with a hint of hope. The Olympians, though conflicted, respected Alex's decision, understanding the weight of his choice.
As the great doors of the Pantheon closed behind Alex, the gods turned their attention to one another, their expressions a mix of contemplation and concern.
Zeus, his brow furrowed, broke the silence. "He chose Apollo. Of all the gods, he chose the one who has rarely been honored. His choice reflects something more than mere preference."
Poseidon nodded, his voice deep with a hint of disappointment. "Indeed. He chose the path of healing and prophecy, a path that does not align with the might and power we offer. It's a choice that may seem...weak in comparison."
Hera, her face a mask of stoic disapproval, added, "It's a choice that reflects his desire to be different, to not follow the path of destruction or control. Yet, in his choice, he seems to have rejected the opportunities for greater power and influence."
Hades, who had remained silent until now, spoke with a somber tone. "A choice of healing and protection... It is a noble path, but it is not what we had hoped for. We wanted him to embrace power, to wield it for a greater purpose."
Apollo, standing apart from the group, remained calm and composed. His eyes, though serene, held a depth of understanding that the others could not quite grasp. He looked at the other gods, his voice gentle but firm. "You misunderstand the significance of his choice. It is not merely a rejection of power but a reflection of his true self."
Athena, her gaze shifting between Apollo and the others, spoke thoughtfully. "What do you mean, Apollo?"
Apollo's eyes were distant as he considered his words. "Alex's choice is not just a choice of healing but an omen. The fact that he chose me, a god who rarely appears and has never been chosen before, speaks volumes. It is a symbol of the burning sun, prophecy, and foresight. He embodies a kind of destiny that has yet to fully unfold."
The gods exchanged glances, their skepticism evident. "But healing?" Zeus asked, his tone tinged with frustration. "Is that all? Should we not expect more from one who stands before us, with such potential?"
As the gods continued their discussion, Apollo's mind was occupied with thoughts of the unknown god of time whose disappearance had cast a shadow over their understanding. He knew that the visions he would receive in the future might illuminate truths that were still hidden. For now, he could only wait and observe, knowing that Alex's choice was just the beginning of a much larger journey.