𝐅𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐄𝐝𝐞𝐧 | 𝘈𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯'𝘴 𝘊𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘥 |

80 | 𝐧𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭

"Dee, calm down. It's not real anymore, yeah? It's okay. I won't play another memory until you calm down. Shaun!." Comes from Rebecca, the constant beeping of the monitor in my ears disrupting the glitching view of my distraught face.

"Why in the bloody world did you do this shit so early! And without me. You know what, never mind. Breathe, love. I'm here. It's not real. You're alright." His voice calms me as the memories of the impending doom of my world consume my very being.

I concentrate on his voice and the ghostly feeling of his fingers on my hand, my body being numb and asleep as I get searched about by the machine.

"There. You're okay, sweetheart. Everything's fine, we're here." I feel myself being able to breathe better as I concentrate more on him, being mindful that I'm not as alone as I felt after my supposed death being thrown at my face.

A few silent minutes pass and the annoying beeps go back to their normal behavior. A little sigh leaving one of the two.

"Okay, that's better. BP and heart rate is stabilized, and her markings are calm, so we can continue. Alright, here we have Memory 6, Sequence 1." The ambience changes to another where it appears as if the memory was cut in whole, the image being of the throne room in the Palace of Olympus.

All the gods—old and young—stand in a circle facing a black granite table, deep blue markings contrasting our ever known gold. A piece of grey cloth sits on it, waiting to be brought to life. The bearded form of Zeus walks upfront, a deep look of despair and a shimmer of hope in his grey eyes.

"You have all heard of the doom of Olympus, the Triad has made it abundantly clear. They have done calculations, countless of experiments, every and all methods of salvation have been tested.. none of them have bared fruit." Solemn expressions litter the room, the aura of the situation falling heavy on our shoulders.

"The Nexus does not see us live beyond the near future, yet we must not let our memories, our sacrifices die in vain in a pool of sulfur and ash." He motions to the cloth, sitting patiently at the table.

"That is why we will leave our strength, virtues, morals and knowledge behind. The Triad have constructed this as per my directions. It requires a sacrifice from each of us, to leave behind for whichever generation comes long after us to discover. So they can know where they came from." He brings out a hand and a Kukri, placing the blade over his middle finger.

"A part of us dies to be reborn." His markings in his hands glow as he presses the blade.

Blood doesn't put out but rather a spectral hand comes out of him, a glitching finger falling over the cloth, this one turning slightly golden. The specter enters his body again, the mans finger still being attached, but sporting a cut mark around the base.

His essence.

Silently, the rest of the gods do the same to different parts of their body, the cloth basking in power. It's my turn after Artemis, the woman having given her feet in reverence to her being the Goddess of the Hunt. I step forward, looking intensely at the piece.

Why is this happening? What did we ever do to deserve this? I don't want to see the world I grew up in turn to ashes. I don't want to witness how very one I know burns and gives their last breath in the form of a scream. I don't want to see what comes after us from Elysium, because I don't want there to be an after, we created this world, and we deserve to die naturally, not by the hands of our own creation.

I don't wish to see that.

I take my right hand and bring it up to my left eye, manipulating my essence to do as I want. I grunt as the erupting pain inside my eyeball takes over, and quickly pull back, pulling out my specter eye.

I take my vision and hold it in the palm of my hand, turning it over slightly and letting it drop over the cloth. My sight goes black as my vision is permanently damaged, my sacrifice being taken precariously by the slowly growing gold color.

"I give my sight, for I don't wish to see a tomorrow without our race." Some beside me murmur at my explanation, Zeus not saying anything given that the man is in deep disarray.

"Behold, our lives in the palm of our hands. A new Piece has been added to our history. We are the Shroud." Zeus takes the new Piece of Knowledge and shows it to the room, this one glowing ferociously.

I don't want to see. I don't want to see.

I can't see.