Chronoa Salvàta was no longer a void. Alessandro had reshaped it with time and will, carving out a small, stable haven in the endless nothingness. The expanse of twilight was now interrupted by a circular campsite, surrounded by towering pine trees that swayed gently in an unseen breeze. In the center, a bonfire crackled and danced, its warm glow casting long shadows across the uneven ground. Behind the fire stood a modest cabin of weathered wood, its shutters slightly ajar, and three tents encircled the space like silent sentinels. Alessandro had crafted this place as a sanctuary, a fragment of what the mortal world might feel like, though it was little more than an illusion.
It was during a rare moment of peace—his dagger resting at his side, and his breathing steady after another grueling encounter with monsters—that the quiet was shattered. A faint ripple in the air reached his heightened senses, like a stone dropped into still water. Alessandro's storm-gray eyes narrowed, his body tensing. Someone, or something, had entered Chronoa Salvàta.
He rose silently, his movements fluid from years of training. The bonfire's light caught on the blade in his hand, its celestial bronze edge glinting ominously. He stepped forward, scanning the boundary of his sanctuary. The pine trees loomed tall, their shadows stretching unnaturally in the dim light. The ripple grew stronger, and then, with a soft pop, two figures materialized at the edge of the campsite.
Alessandro froze. These were not monsters.
The first was a girl, perhaps thirteen, her dark hair pulled into a messy braid. Her sharp eyes darted around the clearing, taking in the fire, the cabin, and finally Alessandro himself. She held a short sword in her hand, its grip worn but firm. Beside her stood a boy, younger and smaller, clutching a makeshift shield that looked like it had been scavenged from debris. His face was pale, his eyes wide with both fear and curiosity.
"Who are you?" Alessandro demanded, his voice low and steady. The language felt foreign on his tongue; it had been so long since he'd spoken to another person. His Italian accent clung to the words, adding a sharpness to them.
The girl's eyes narrowed. "We could ask you the same thing," she shot back, her voice firm despite the weariness in her stance. She shifted slightly, placing herself between Alessandro and the boy. "Where are we?"
Alessandro relaxed his grip on the dagger but didn't lower it. "This is Chronoa Salvàta," he said. "A place beyond the gods. How did you get here?"
The boy spoke up, his voice trembling. "We were running... from monsters. There were so many, and then..." He looked to the girl for confirmation.
"And then we just... appeared here," she finished, her brows furrowing. Her gaze softened slightly as she studied Alessandro. "You said this place is beyond the gods? What does that mean?"
Alessandro hesitated. How could he explain the nature of this space, born from his desperate need to escape Zeus's wrath? How could he tell them he was the son of Kronos, the Titan feared and hated by all Olympians? Instead, he said, "It means you're safe. For now."
The girl tilted her head, skepticism flickering in her dark eyes. "Safe? From the monsters?"
Alessandro nodded. "They can't enter the campsite. I made sure of that."
The boy exhaled in relief, lowering his shield slightly. "Thank the gods."
At that, Alessandro's expression darkened. "Don't," he said sharply. "The gods won't help you. Not here. Not anywhere."
The girl's eyes narrowed again, but she didn't argue. Instead, she stepped closer to the fire, her grip on her sword loosening. "I'm Bianca," she said, her tone cautious but less guarded. She gestured to the boy. "This is Nico. We're... demigods."
Alessandro's heart skipped a beat. Demigods. It had been so long since he'd encountered another of his kind. His mind raced with questions, but he forced himself to stay composed. "I'm Alessandro," he said, his voice softening. "Son of Kronos."
Bianca's eyes widened, and she instinctively raised her sword again. "Kronos? The Titan?"
Nico's face went pale. "The bad guy from all the myths?"
Alessandro sighed, a weight pressing down on his chest. "Yes," he admitted. "But I'm not like him. I didn't choose this."
Bianca's grip on her sword tightened, but she didn't strike. Instead, she studied Alessandro carefully, as if weighing his words. Finally, she lowered the blade slightly. "If you're lying..."
"I'm not," Alessandro said firmly. He gestured to the cabin and tents. "You can rest here. There's food inside. It's not much, but it'll help."
Nico's stomach growled audibly, and Bianca glanced at him before nodding. "Alright. But we're keeping our weapons close."
"Fair enough," Alessandro said. He stepped back, giving them space to move toward the cabin. As they passed, he couldn't help but feel a flicker of hope. For the first time in what felt like centuries, he wasn't alone.
That night, as the three of them sat around the bonfire, Alessandro learned more about his unexpected visitors. Bianca spoke cautiously, revealing that she and Nico had been on the run for weeks, hunted by monsters that seemed drawn to their very existence. They had no idea why, only that danger was a constant companion.
Nico, despite his earlier fear, quickly grew animated as he talked about their adventures. "We found this shield in an old temple," he said, holding it up proudly. "Bianca said it was too dangerous, but I knew it could help us."
"It's barely holding together," Bianca muttered, though her tone was more fond than scolding.
Alessandro listened intently, his heart aching at their plight. He could see the weariness in their faces, the way their shoulders sagged even as they tried to remain strong. They reminded him of himself, of the boy he had been when he first entered Chronoa Salvàta.
"You're safe here," he said again, his voice filled with quiet determination. "As long as you're in this space, nothing can harm you."
Bianca met his gaze, her dark eyes searching his. "Why are you helping us?" she asked.
Alessandro hesitated, then said simply, "Because I know what it's like to be hunted."
For a moment, there was silence. Then Bianca nodded, a small, almost imperceptible gesture. "Thank you," she said softly.
As the fire crackled and the night deepened, Alessandro felt a warmth he hadn't known in years. It wasn't the heat of the flames, but the fragile, flickering light of companionship. For the first time since he had been cast into this timeless prison, he felt the stirrings of hope.
Perhaps, he thought, he wouldn't have to face eternity alone.