The storm around the island had faded.
The clouds were pulling back. The wind had calmed. The sea no longer roared like it wanted to kill everything in sight.
But inside me?
I felt worse than any storm.
You ever have one of those moments where it feels like things might finally be okay? Where after all the crap life throws at you, you get a glimpse—just a small one—of something good?
That's what it had been. Until everything shattered.
I wasn't like some movie hero. I didn't scream or cry in slow motion. I just stood there, staring at Pham's body, while something deep inside me twisted and broke. I wanted to say something—anything—but my mouth felt sewn shut.
The last few weeks ran through my head like a cruel joke.
All those days building the boat together. The stupid jokes. The weird meals. The long talks under the stars.
"Why are you tying the rope like that?" Pham asked once, watching me fumble with a knot.
"I saw it in a survival show once," I said, tongue sticking out as I concentrated. "The guy made it look easy."
"It doesn't look easy."
"Shut up."
He laughed, the kind of loud, goofy laugh you couldn't fake if you tried. "You're lucky I'm strong enough to hold this thing steady. Otherwise, we'd both be swimming."
"I thought you liked swimming?"
"I like not drowning more."
We both laughed then. I didn't even realize I'd let my guard down around him that much. It felt good.
I blinked, and I was back in the present. The smell of blood replaced the scent of salt and wood. His body hadn't moved. Not a twitch.
I crouched beside him, my hand resting lightly on his arm. It was still warm. That hit me harder than I thought. Like his body hadn't figured out he was dead yet.
"You idiot," I whispered. "You were supposed to see the world."
His face was calm. That same dumb smile still on his lips. Even when Poseidon's trident had torn through him, he hadn't screamed. He just smiled at me and said thank you.
That was it.
A goodbye disguised as kindness.
I looked at the wreck of the boat we had built together. Pieces of it scattered across the beach, shattered and soaked in blood. Just like our plans.
Something tightened in my chest.
I wasn't reacting the way most people probably would. When I died back in my old world, I didn't feel much either. No panic. No terror. Just a little regret. A little sadness. But mostly emptiness.
That had been my life, anyway. Empty. Numb.
I kept my head down. Took what came. Never pushed back. Even when people treated me like crap, I just swallowed it and kept moving.
I guess I got used to it.
But then I met Pham.
And something changed.
His dumb jokes. His excitement over the smallest things. His weird obsession with naming sheep. He made things feel real again. I didn't even notice how much I started to laugh. How much I started to care. For the first time in… I don't even know how long, I didn't feel alone.
He gave me something I didn't think I deserved—friendship.
And I let him die.
Because I was too weak. Too slow.
Too late.
So, life has decided show me yet again, good things never last long.
My rational side evaporated, and rage was all I felt.
And when rationality leaves, people do crazy things.
***
Poseidon stood tall, his sea-blue eyes glinting with disdain as he stared down at us—at the lifeless form of Polyphemus, still shielding my broken body.
"What a useless waste," he muttered, voice cold and final. "I don't need such a useless and pathetic son."
That was it.
That was the moment something inside me snapped.
The grief didn't leave—it hardened. Crystallized into something I didn't know anything about.
My tears dried not because I was at peace, but because my soul had ignited. The hole in my chest where sorrow had lived was now a furnace. I felt my body burning up, as if my veins were on fire. But I ignored it.
I looked up at the self-proclaimed god who murdered his own son, for a simple and ridiculous reason, and all I felt was rage—pure, unfiltered, world-scorching rage.
I pushed myself up, broken ribs screaming in protest, body trembling under the weight of it all—but I didn't care. I stood tall. I faced Poseidon as I felt a burning sensation in my eyes.
He looked mildly annoyed, like my defiance was a fly buzzing in his ear.
But I wasn't a fly.
I was becoming something else now. Something beyond a human.
"You are no god," I said, my voice low but burning. "You're not even worthy of being called an animal. Polyphemus was more human than you'll ever be. A thousand times more. And you murdered him just because he dared to live."
Poseidon's lip curled. "You dare speak to me that way, insect? Don't you realize your situation right now? With a single blow, you will become dust."
"You disgusting excuse of a father," I spat out the blood that gathered in my mouth. "Even if it kills me, I will kill you."
The air itself seemed to recoil.
Poseidon's eyes widened, then narrowed into fury. The sea roared behind him as he raised his arm. "So, you have chosen death. I was considering, for my son's sake, to spare you if you groveled at my feet—but now, you'll beg for mercy before I erase you."
He wrenched his trident from Pham's body—his own son's body—and with a thunderous growl, hurled it straight at me. It looked like everything was moving in slow motion as the world around me fell silent somehow.
I didn't move.
I didn't flinch.
"Gods. Demons. Monsters. Humans." My voice echoed with cold fury as I clenched my fists. "It doesn't matter who or what you are. If you hurt those I care about…"
I gritted my teeth.
"…I will kill you. I'll kill you all. I shall tear down your lofty thrones, and drag you to the depths of hell. I'll erase your very existence until there's nothing left."
The trident came closer. Time slowed. The world blurred into silence and motion. Yet I stood tall, facing my death head on, my eyes still locked on Poseidon.
And then—
A voice resounded in my head. Deep. Mocking. Proud.
"Very well, mongrel… You have gained this King's interest. You are worthy to bear witness of my glory."
It wasn't mine.
But it was within me.
It echoed through my bones, my soul, my blood. Poseidon froze mid-motion, his expression shifting from rage to… unease. And then—shock.
"Your eyes… They're..... red… No—are you also of divine blood! What are you?"
I raised my hand.
And caught the trident mid-air as I closed my eyes.
The impact should've torn my arm clean off. But instead, it shuddered in my grip and fell silent—like it had just been grabbed by something greater than the sea.
My eyes closed. Yet I could see.
Not the beach. Not Poseidon.
But something older. Deeper
Golden palaces under blood-red skies.
A throne that sat above all. A man adorned in gold, with crimson eyes like mine. His arrogance was suffocating, his presence overwhelming—but behind the sneer was a sadness so deep, it hurts to even imagine.
I saw him in war—raining spears of light from the heavens upon gods and monsters alike.
I saw him on the battlefield—undaunted, proud, untouchable.
Yet, I also saw him kneel beside a dying friend—clutching the broken body in trembling arms. A single tear fell down the cheek of the so-called King of Heroes.
The helpless laughter and acceptance, after a snake took away his chance of immortality.
He had everything… and yet nothing.
And for the first time—I understood.
Humans at our core, we aren't so different.
And then, like muscle memory, the words slipped from my mouth:
"Equip… Archer."
A golden light exploded from within me, blinding and divine. Poseidon shielded his eyes as the world was engulfed in a brilliant golden light.
My torn clothes vanished. In their place, radiant golden armor assembled piece by piece, gleaming with regal authority. A long crimson cape unfurled behind me like war's own banner, flapping in the windless air.
My reflection in the ocean's edge showed strands of my wet black hair turning gold, glowing faintly in the storm's aftermath. My eyes… they weren't mine anymore.
They were the King's. Crimson. Burning. Timeless.
Poseidon staggered back, the sea trembling beneath his feet. "That… that armor… No! That power belongs to—!"
I cut him off.
Not with actions. But with a whisper.
"Open—Gate of Babylon."
The sky behind me cracked. No, it rippled. Like reality itself had bent, kneeling to power beyond comprehension.
One by one, golden portals bloomed into existence, humming with unnatural energy. Tens at first, then hundreds, then thousands.
From each portal, ancient weapons hovered—swords, spears, bows, axes, hammers, chains—all legendary, all divine, all pointed at the god of the ocean. The black sky was now shining golden, as if the sun had risen again.
Poseidon's eyes widened in disbelief. "Impossible… it can't be. You are not him. He is dead… that monster who killed his own gods…"
I stepped forward, every step echoing like the march of judgment.
"Maybe I'm not him, maybe all of this makes no sense." I said, voice deeper now, laced with something not quite human. "But right now?"
I raised my hand emotionlessly.
Hundreds of blades locked into his position from behind me, trembling with barely restrained destruction.
"I am his wrath."
Poseidon shook his head, trying to focus. Then he scoffed, " Even if you are him, I am POSEIDON! " His grip on his Trident strengthened as he stared down at me.
He didn't know how close he was standing to his death.
****
Sooo, what do you think so far ? Is it good? Is it bad ? Your brain cells died after reading brainrots so you can't form any thoughts? Lemme know 😎