His brother looked different—older, stronger, and clad in the proud regalia of a hero. His face was illuminated by the sunlight as he spoke passionately to the masses gathered before him. The crowd cheered his name, their voices rising in unison, hailing Leo as the savior of humanity, the leader who had brought them to the cusp of victory.
Leo's voice rang out clear and resolute, his words inspiring hope and courage in those who listened. He spoke of the sacrifices made, of the battles fought and won, and of the future—a future where humanity would rise above the darkness and claim its rightful place in the world.
But Alex couldn't hear the specifics of his speech. All he could hear was the roar of the crowd, chanting Leo's name over and over, drowning out everything else.
As Alex watched from the shadows, he realized the cruel irony of it all. Leo stood there, a symbol of light and hope, the hero of the people—while Alex was left behind, forgotten, trapped in the ruins of an ancient temple, kneeling before a god whose name he didn't even know.
The vision faded, leaving Alex gasping for air, his heart pounding in his chest. He collapsed onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling in disbelief, his mind reeling from what he had just seen.
It wasn't just the pain of Alexius's death that haunted him now—it was the future that awaited him, the weight of promises he hadn't made yet was bound to fulfill. Leo, standing on a podium, is hailed as a hero. And Alex, somewhere in the shadows, kneeling before a forgotten god, cursed with a fate he couldn't yet comprehend.
The world would kneel, the god had said. But at what cost? And why had it come to this?
As he lay there, overwhelmed by the enormity of it all, one question echoed in his mind, gnawing at him with relentless persistence:
Who was he really, in this world that had never been his? And what role was he meant to play?
Another memory barges into his mind.
The grand hall of the Pantheon echoed with the sound of voices—cheers, whispers, and the shuffling of feet as families gathered around the altar, waiting for their children to be called forward for the Awakening Ceremony. The atmosphere was filled with excitement, and a sense of anticipation hummed through the air.
Alex and Leo stood together near the center of the hall, surrounded by other children who were also waiting for their moment. Leo, always brimming with energy, bounced on his toes, his excitement barely contained. He looked around the room, grinning widely at their parents who were watching from a distance, their expressions tense but hopeful.
"Today's the day," Leo whispered to Alex, his eyes sparkling. "Can you believe it?"
Alex, on the other hand, felt distant—disconnected from the joy and excitement swirling around him. He watched the scene before him with a quiet detachment, his thoughts far away. He wasn't nervous, but there was an unease settling deep in his bones, something that tugged at the back of his mind. He could still feel the weight of the visions he had seen, the overwhelming sense of fate that loomed over him.
"Yeah," Alex replied softly, his voice barely audible over the noise. "I can believe it."
One by one, the children were called forward. Each approached the altar, stepping into the divine circle where their fate would be revealed. The gods—at least, their statues—watched silently from the shadows of the Pantheon, their eyes unblinking as they waited to mark their chosen.
Then, Leo's name rang out through the hall.
"Leonardo Harrison."
The room seemed to hold its breath as Leo stepped forward. He stood tall, chest puffed out with confidence, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. The whispers in the crowd grew louder, rippling through the hall as people leaned in to watch. The ceremony was long awaited by many, and Leo's turn had always been something of a focal point.
Leo walked into the divine circle, standing under the gaze of the statues. For a moment, there was silence. Then, a powerful wave of energy swept through the air, and a shimmering blue light descended from above. It coalesced around Leo, enveloping him in a radiant aura of water and power. The mark of Poseidon appeared on his arm, the emblem of the sea god's favor etched into his skin.
The crowd erupted into cheers.
"Poseidon!" someone shouted. "He's been chosen by Poseidon!"
The joy was palpable. Leo beamed as he looked up, feeling the power of the god surging through him. It was everything he had hoped for, and more. He was now chosen by one of the most powerful gods of the Pantheon, and his path set toward greatness.
As Leo basked in the attention and applause, Alex remained where he stood, his heart heavy with something else—something that didn't quite fit the joy of the moment. He couldn't help but feel that whatever happened next for him would be different. Unpredictable.
Finally, the voice called again.
"Alexius Harrison."
The room quieted down, the previous excitement momentarily subdued as all eyes turned to Alex. He moved forward slowly, his footsteps barely making a sound against the polished stone floor. The statues loomed overhead, their imposing presence casting long shadows over the ceremony. Alex felt small under their gaze, but not intimidated. There was a strange calm within him.
He stepped into the divine circle, standing in the same spot where Leo had just received his mark. The air grew heavy, thick with tension. People waited, their whispers turning into murmurs of curiosity.
But nothing happened.
The seconds stretched on. The gods remained silent.
Alex stood there, the weight of the hall pressing down on him, but he didn't falter. He closed his eyes, took a slow breath, and reached deep within himself, searching for that connection to something greater. And then, just when it seemed like the ceremony would end in disappointment, something shifted.
A faint breeze stirred in the hall, and a soft, golden light began to flicker. It was weak at first, barely noticeable, but it gradually grew stronger, enveloping Alex in a warm glow. The light was different from Leo's—it wasn't the overwhelming power of the sea, but rather something gentler, more distant, yet just as powerful.
From the shadows of the Pantheon, a figure appeared. Not one of the more familiar gods—no Zeus, no Hades, no Poseidon. The figure was indistinct, their features blurred as though shrouded by time itself. It was an unknown god, a figure that few recognized. Their presence was subtle, their energy quiet but profound.
The crowd remained silent, unsure of what to make of the scene before them.
Then, as quickly as the figure had appeared, they were gone, leaving behind only the golden light that settled into Alex's skin. A mark appeared, faint but clear, on the back of his hand—a symbol unknown to those gathered. No one knew the name of the god who had chosen him, not even the most knowledgeable of scholars.
The hall remained quiet, the applause never coming.
The quiet of Alex's room enveloped him like a suffocating blanket. He sat on the floor, his back against the cold wall, staring blankly ahead at nothing in particular. The light from the window was dim, casting long shadows across the room as evening fell. But in Alex's mind, the scene from the Awakening Ceremony played over and over again, taunting him, mocking him.
Leo's smiling face. The cheers of the crowd. The overwhelming aura of Poseidon.
And then his moment—silent, unnoticed, and wrapped in mystery. No fanfare, no celebration. Just confusion. His god remained unknown, a distant figure that offered him no recognition, no grand future. It was as though fate had cast him aside, leaving him in the shadow of his twin.
Alex gritted his teeth, his hands balling into fists as the emotions he'd been trying to suppress began to bubble up to the surface. Jealousy twisted in his chest, sharp and painful, coiling tighter and tighter until he couldn't hold it back anymore.
It wasn't fair. None of it was fair.
Leo had everything—strength, power, the admiration of their parents and the world. He had been chosen by Poseidon, the god of the sea, and was now destined for greatness. People looked at him like he was the future savior of humanity.
And what did Alex have?
Nothing.
The quiet god that had chosen him didn't even bother to reveal their name. It was as though even the divine world had forgotten him. Left in the shadows, he was nothing more than an afterthought. Always behind Leo, always lesser, always…
His vision blurred as his fists tightened painfully against his knees. The jealousy burned hotter, mixing with a bitter resentment that he hadn't allowed himself to acknowledge until now.
"Why him?" Alex whispered, his voice breaking in the empty room. His chest heaved with the effort of holding back the sobs that threatened to escape. "Why… always him?"
He pressed his hands against his face, trying to smother the rising anger. But it was no use. The memories of their childhood came rushing back, flooding him with bitterness. The constant comparison, the way their parents seemed to always focus on Leo. Leo, the golden child. Leo, the hero-to-be. Leo is the one who always outshone him without even trying.
"I hate him," Alex muttered to himself, his voice thick with emotion. The words slipped out before he could stop them, and once they were spoken, he couldn't take them back. The jealousy had festered for so long that it had grown into something darker, something more poisonous than he wanted to admit.
He hated Leo. Hated that he was always in his shadow. Hated that no matter how hard he tried, he would never be enough. The resentment built like a storm inside of him, and suddenly, he couldn't stop it. Years of suppressed emotions burst forth in a flood of anger and sorrow.
Tears blurred his vision as he gripped his head in frustration, feeling his body tremble with the force of the emotions coursing through him. He didn't want to feel this way. He didn't want to be jealous of his brother. But he was. He hated Leo for being everything that he wasn't—everything that he could never be.
"Why can't it be me?" Alex whispered hoarsely through his tears. "Why can't I be the one they're proud of?"
He curled in on himself, letting the sobs come now, his chest heaving as the weight of his jealousy and grief bore down on him. He hated Leo for the way people looked at him. Hated the way their parents adored him. Hated the way even the gods seemed to have chosen him for something greater, leaving Alex behind with nothing but a mark he didn't understand and a future that felt unbearably uncertain.
But as much as he hated Leo, he hated himself even more for feeling this way.
He was weak. Pathetic. Unworthy of the kindness his brother had always shown him. Leo didn't deserve this—he didn't deserve to have a brother who was consumed by jealousy and resentment. But Alex couldn't help it. Every time he saw Leo's smile, it reminded him of his inadequacies, his failures.
Alex's tears slowed, and he wiped them away with the back of his hand, his breaths coming in shallow, ragged gasps. The room felt eerily quiet now, the air heavy with the weight of what he had just admitted to himself.
"I'm sorry," Alex whispered into the silence, though he wasn't sure who he was apologizing to. To Leo? To himself? To the gods who had chosen him but left him lost and confused?
He didn't know anymore. All he knew was that the jealousy was eating him alive, and no matter how hard he tried to push it away, it wouldn't let go.
As he sat there, the echoes of his sobs fading into the stillness of the room, Alex felt a deep sense of hopelessness settles over him. He didn't know how to make this feeling go away. Didn't know how to stop hating Leo, or how to stop hating himself for it.
But one thing was clear: the jealousy had taken root in his heart, and it wasn't going to leave anytime soon.
Leo was the hero.
And Alex was nothing more than the shadow left behind.