Never Change

Book II: Chapter 45

Book II: The King's Dilemma

"Why didn't it work!?" The fireplace crackled in response to his incensed words. A fist crashed through the drywall. Elaborate, sparkling ornaments were swept from the shelves, sending them smashing to the floor. The shards crunched when the heel of a boot crushed them.

"Calm yourself."

"Calm myself!?" His words were shrill and deafening as he whirled on the intruder.

"It's clear there's been an unforeseen development. Someone interfered."

"Who? Among the council?" His words were still incensed, but it was clear his mood was calmed, somewhat.

"Likely. He's in the process of ascending now. It wouldn't have started without a spark. Someone interfered."

There was a sound of a mocking laugh; however, the ridicule was not directed toward the other. "Who would've dared to interfere? They're all too weak, now."

"You understand, though. Apollyon just needed a spark. He was almost there already."

The conclusion was clear to both of them. "I suppose you're right. Any of them could've given the spark then. We will investigate. There are a limited number of suspects, after all."

"That's right. There is no need to fret. One by one, they will be gone within the next century. The decline of the pantheon is here."

"Has Ananke peered into his fate?"

"She has."

"And?"

"It's muddled. The string descends into ambiguous gray—a mixture of darkness and light. He's carved his own path, now. Independent of the Fates, and even of the primordial goddess. Ironic, isn't it? He was their favorite toy for some time."

"Their power has also diminished like ours over time due to the collapse of the Pantheon. It must be that. Every being has a destiny; without a destiny, they cannot move forward."

"Yet he is. How do you explain that?"

"Patience. We will wait for the time to strike. Remember that we still have the Box itself."

"That was supposed to be a last resort."

"What can I say? Apollyon is full of surprises. We may just be forced to play our cards earlier than you think."

"Don't you think he has a chance against it?" he raised an eyebrow.

"He is an upstart godling. Just eighteen years of age in human years. In immortal years, he is not even out of the womb. He hasn't learned the aspects of godhood yet. In comparison, the Box has been around for millions of years, possibly even more, since it's made of Mother Khaos' flesh."

The other man barked a laugh; it was a harsh, grating sound that would have shattered a mortal's eardrums had they been listening to the conversation. "Ha! You're right. Zeus was quite intriguing. Arrogance backed by power creates tyrants. Mother Khaos gifted the Box to Zeus as a sign of goodwill. Of course, the imbecile didn't understand the gravity of it. That girl, what was her name again?

"Pandora."

"That's right. Pandora. She was fated to open the Box—there was nothing that Prometheus or anyone else, for that matter, could do about it. But, now that we have the Box, it's sufficient as a last resort."

"Sufficient would be an understatement. It's a guarantee. At any rate, Aporia should be the most useful of the spirits. Soul possession, was it?"

"That's right. Body, spirit, and soul. The body is taken by the user, the spirit is overwhelmed, and the soul is extinguished. The user can then establish parallel existence."