Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

A fter Joe showed her back into the main silo area, where a group of people gathered to eat a meal, Amy sat in silence, mulling over everything he'd just told her. She recognized almost everyone in the dark, damp place.

There were kids of all ages running around with a soccer ball, playing quietly after the meal. Her nieces and nephew were among the ranks.

She sat with her knees drawn up, her back resting against the cold, curved wall of the silo. The dim lighting from the few oil lamps scattered across the room, casting a flickering glow on the faces around her—old friends, family members, people that she had once lived among before everything had gone so horribly wrong. Now they were huddled together—tired, skinny, weak—sharing a somber meal, trying to carve out some normalcy in this bleak, underground refuge.

Her thoughts kept circling back to what Joe had said. Moros. The gods. Pandora.

What in the hell was happening? Was all this real or was she dreaming?

Just as she was about to get up and find a moment of solitude, someone sat beside her.

She recognized Hope, Dante's younger sister, immediately. Her presence was as quiet and mysterious as always. Amy hadn't seen her since she'd graduated from high school. The last that she'd heard, Hope was in New York, studying to be a dancer.

"Remember me?" Hope asked as she gave her a small smile. Amy nodded. "I thought you might want to talk," she said softly, pulling her knees up to match Amy's posture.

Amy glanced at her, unsure where to start. "How… you were in New York."

Hope nodded. "I came home after Dante disappeared, after the two of you disappeared on the same night. At first, those of us that didn't believe them"—she motioned towards Xtina and the rest—"thought that the two of you had run off together." She sighed and rested her head back as she glanced up at the top of the silo's massive cover. "I was so angry. Our dad died not knowing the truth." She shook her head and wiped a tear from her cheek. "Then, after the attack, everyone started believing their crazy stories."

"Stories?" Amy asked.

Hope glanced over at her. "That the two of you were sent somewhere to stop this all from happening. When I saw you walk in here, looking not a day older than the last time I'd seen you, I knew." She frowned. "But Dante's not with you?"

Amy shook her head. "Not… yet." She shrugged.

"I didn't think I'd survive," Hope admitted. "When the first wave hit, I'd just come home. Then the world was in chaos. We couldn't hold the line. Most of us scattered." She looked around the silo, her gaze lingering on the people huddled in small groups. "These are the last of us, Amy. We're tired."

Amy's throat tightened. "What are you saying? That you're going to run?"

Hope turned her head sharply, meeting Amy's eyes with a defiant spark. "I won't run. None of us will. We'll fight... and when we can't fight anymore, we'll hide until we can fight again. That's what survivors do." She turned slightly towards her. "So, the question is, what are you going to do? What are you and my brother going to do to stop all of this from happening?"

Before Amy could respond, the ground beneath them shuddered. It started subtly, like the trembling of a distant earthquake. But within moments, the tremor grew, sending ripples through the metal walls of the silo.

Amy bolted upright. "What was that?"

Hope stood too, her eyes wide with recognition. "No... it's too soon," she whispered, her face going pale. "They've found us."

Before Amy could ask who, a deafening screech tore through the air, and the ceiling of the silo—the massive dome above them—began to peel back, as though it were nothing more than the lid of a tin can.

A scream erupted around them. Everyone scrambled for cover as chunks of debris began to rain down on them. Amy's heart raced as she looked up. A swirling mass of darkness hovered above the silo. She saw ugly creatures circling around a dark figure that was descending towards them.

"Moros," Hope whispered, her voice trembling. "He's here."

Amy's blood ran cold. She had never seen a god before, but the stories that her brother had told her were enough to instill fear in her.

Moros, the god of doom and darkness, circled above them, surrounded by winged, shadowy figures—his army of Harpies or demi-gods. Their eyes gleamed red as they swooped into the silo, cutting through the panicked crowd like a storm of death.

In a single wave, half of the people inside were struck down. Bodies fell around Amy, lifeless before they even hit the ground. The air was filled with screams of terror and the metallic scent of blood.

"Xtina! Jess!" Hope screamed, her voice cracking. Amy turned just in time to see her friends—Xtina, Jess, and the others—band together, trying to form a circle of defense against the onslaught. Xtina's and Jess's bodies glowed with power, the air around them sparking with electricity. Jess's hands weaved intricate patterns, casting spells of protection as fast as her fingers could move, shooting lightning bolts from her fingertips. Mia shifted into the massive dragon, while Lucas changed into a huge black three-headed dog and took out half a dozen of the demi-gods with one blow.

But it wasn't enough. One by one, they were struck down, their bodies collapsing in brutal flashes of light.

Amy's breath came in ragged gasps as the horror unfolded before her eyes. She turned, desperate to find Joe, her nieces, and her nephew. And there they were—Luna, Stella, Orion—all lying injured and bleeding, struggling to move, or already dead. Joe hovered over them, tears in his eyes as he screamed.

"No!" The word tore from her throat, but her legs felt heavy, her body rooted in place by fear. She couldn't reach them. She couldn't help them.

Hope grabbed her arm, pulling her closer. "Amy, listen to me!" she yelled. "You have to run! There's nothing you can do! Not during this time."

But something snapped deep inside her. The sight of the children—their small, fragile bodies lying broken—triggered something deep within her, something primal, something she couldn't contain.

Her body shook violently, a surge of energy bubbling up inside her from deep down. She felt it building, pressing against the very fabric of her being, desperate to be released.

"Amy—" Hope's voice was distant like it was being swallowed by the roaring storm around them. But Amy couldn't hear anything clearly anymore. The power was too loud. Too demanding.

She opened her mouth, and a scream erupted from her—a scream so powerful, so filled with raw energy, that the very air around them seemed to tremble.

Moros and his army faltered.

The dark Harpies and demi-gods staggered mid-flight, their shadows flickering as if struggling to hold their form. Moros turned his golden glowing gaze onto her, his expression twisting into one of recognition, then surprise, and finally... fear.

The god of doom, the bringer of darkness, the destroyer of worlds, feared her.

Amy collapsed to her knees, the energy still pulsing within her but less violently now, more controlled. She panted, her body drenched in sweat, her heart pounding like a war drum.

"Pandora..." Moros's voice was a low rumble, filled with rage and something else. Dread. In one quick move, his hands rose and pointed directly at her. A bright flash. A quick burst of pain.

Amy's vision blurred, her body heavy as she collapsed onto the rocky ground. Her limbs trembled from the force of Moros' attack, his dark power coursing through her veins like poison. Everything around her seemed to fade into nothingness—except for one thought.

Dante.

She was supposed to see Dante again.

"I will stop you," she whispered, her voice trembling. She tried to summon the strength to stand, but her body betrayed her.

Power pulsed from Moros and shot straight towards her again. She heard screaming, felt pain like she'd never felt before. Then, darkness crept into her vision. Moros' sinister grin was the last thing she saw before everything went black.

When Amy awoke, the world around her was still. The sound of distant birds singing and a soft warm breeze caressing her face felt surreal after the chaos she'd just escaped. The first thing she noticed was a face—a young boy, perhaps no older than ten, peering down at her with wide, curious eyes.

"Are you alive?" the boy asked, his voice full of concern and wonder.

Amy's throat was dry as she tried to respond. "Where...? Where am I?"

"You're at the base of Mount Cythus," the boy said, his words gentle as he reached down to help her sit up. His hands were small but surprisingly strong. "You appeared out of nowhere. Are you a goddess? Are you hurt? I didn't know gods could get hurt." He frowned slightly.

She tried to speak but winced as a sharp pain shot through her chest. She was weak, too weak to fight back if Moros returned. She needed time to recover, to get to Dante. She had to...

"Theo," the boy said, introducing himself with a warm smile. "My name is Theo. I'm a farmer, well, a goat herder. Are you a goddess?" he asked again.

Amy blinked, unsure how to respond to that question. Her mind was hazy, still reeling from the battle. "No... I'm... I'm just…"

Theo's eyes widened as he glanced down at something beside her. Amy followed his gaze and saw her cell phone, which had fallen from her coat pocket, lying in the dirt beside her. It had slipped out without her noticing. Theo looked at it in awe, as though it were some sacred artifact.

"Is this box... from the gods?" Theo whispered, reverently picking up the phone and holding it up to her.

Amy managed a weak chuckle. "Not exactly." She leaned her back against a rock and reached out with shaky hands to unlock her phone screen. The brightness momentarily blinded her, but the familiar images of her world flickered across the screen—pictures of her friends, her family, and moments that felt like they belonged to a different lifetime.

Theo gasped as he stared at the images. "You can see into the future? Are these other worlds? Are these all gods?"

Amy smiled faintly, too tired to explain the complexities of technology. Instead, she swiped through the photos, showing Theo snapshots of her world. His face was a mixture of awe and disbelief, his young mind struggling to comprehend what he was seeing.

"Are these the other gods?" Theo asked again, pointing at a photo of Dante, unaware of the connection between them.

Amy's heart tightened at the sight of her brother's face as he and Dante posed for the photo. She nodded slowly. "In a way, yes."

Theo knelt beside her, his eyes wide with admiration. "You must be here to meet with the other gods. The gods don't send people like you unless it's to save us."

Amy's breath hitched. Save us. She wasn't sure she was ready for that responsibility. She wasn't even sure she could do it. But as she sat there, staring at her phone and at Theo, something stirred within her. The pain in her chest subsided just a little.

"Can you help me?" she said softly, her voice and her mind a little steadier now. If Dante was already here, would they think he was a god too? Would they have taken him somewhere where the gods meet? "Can you show me where the other gods would meet?"

Theo nodded eagerly. "Of course. It's not far. I'll take you."

Amy leaned on him for support as they started their slow journey towards the town. Each step was a struggle, her body still aching, but Theo's presence—his kindness—helped her push through most of the pain.

As they walked, Theo kept glancing at the phone in her hands, as though it were a piece of divine magic. He didn't ask any more questions, perhaps sensing that she was too tired to answer.

Dante was out here, somewhere. And somehow, they would find each other. Somehow they had to stop that horrible future from happening.

After all, Joe had mentioned that Brea had gone to many different futures. Different possibilities. Did that mean nothing was set in stone? Could she and Dante really change what she'd seen?

As they neared the outskirts of the town, Amy felt her strength returning—slowly but surely. Whatever Moros had done to her, she wasn't going to let it stop her. Not now. Not when so much was at stake.

As Theo led Amy through the bustling village streets, she noticed curious glances from the villagers who eyed her. She was here for something beyond their understanding, and even though Theo had been kind, Amy felt a deep sense of isolation growing inside her.

The buildings around them gradually gave way to an open space. The air felt different here—charged, heavy with something ancient. As they approached the base of Mount Cythus, Amy's heart raced. The mountain loomed overhead, its jagged peaks cutting into the sky like the teeth of some great beast. There was an energy here, one she could feel thrumming beneath her skin, and it filled her with both anticipation and dread.

Theo stopped suddenly and pointed up the mountain path. "There," he said, his voice quiet, as though he too could feel the presence of something far greater than either of them. "The theater is just beyond those trees. The gods speak to others there. I'm not allowed to go beyond this point."

Amy swallowed hard, nodding. She had no idea what she was walking into, but she knew she had no choice. Dante was here. Somewhere. She could feel it. And the gods… She wasn't sure what their plans were for either of them, but she knew they couldn't turn back now.

"Thank you, Theo," she whispered, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. His eyes lit up and he smiled shyly before running back towards the village, leaving her alone on the path.

The climb was steeper than she'd expected, every step reminding her how weak she still felt. But determination pushed her forward. The wind picked up as she neared the top of the pathway, swirling around her like unseen hands trying to pull her back.

Finally, the path opened into a grand amphitheater carved into the mountainside. It was immense, larger than anything she'd ever seen. The seats seemed to stretch on forever, rows upon rows of stone benches climbing towards the sky. At the center of it all, standing alone in the middle of the stage, was Dante.

Amy's breath caught in her throat when she saw him, his silhouette striking against the backdrop of the ancient stone. He was staring up at the sky, lost in thought, the tension in his body palpable even from a distance.

Her heart leaped at the sight of him. He looked small from where she stood at the edge of the theater, but she could feel the power radiating from him even from this distance. He wasn't the same Dante she remembered. Something had changed.

She took a step forward, her voice catching in her throat. "Dante…"

He turned slowly, his eyes meeting hers across the vast expanse. For a moment, there was nothing but silence between them. The world seemed to hold its breath as they stared at each other, two pieces of a puzzle that had been separated for far too long.

"Amy," Dante breathed, his voice laced with relief and something else—something deeper.

She stepped onto the stone stage, her legs trembling beneath her. "Dante…"

Before she could say more, the weight of everything—the attack, the injuries, the overwhelming journey—hit her all at once. She staggered, feeling the world spin around her, and Dante was there in an instant, catching her before she collapsed.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice laced with concern. He looked over her face, his hand steadying her by the waist.

Amy blinked, forcing herself to focus. "I'm here. I made it. I didn't have a choice," she said. "Moros—he's coming. He's… killed everyone."

"Killed?" He frowned.

"In the… future." She shook her head. "We have to change it."

He moved them over until they were sitting on one of the stone seats. "I've spoken with Prometheus."

"Prometheus… the Titan?" she asked.

Dante nodded. "He warned me not to wake Pandora. He said that no good would come of it. I have no idea where Pandora is or even how to wake her. So I don't think that will be a problem." He sighed.

Amy's blood ran cold. She turned towards him until their eyes locked.

"Dante, I am Pandora."