Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

T he next morning, Dante woke up early just as the cool morning air slipped through the open windows, carrying the scent of wildflowers from the mountain. He lay still for a moment, his arm wrapped around Amy as her body warmed his.

"Today's the day," he murmured, more to himself than her, though Amy stirred slightly. She didn't fully wake, so he kissed the top of her head before slipping out of bed and stretching. His muscles ached from the tension coiling inside him. Today, he hoped, would bring them some answers.

By the time the sun had fully risen, they were on their way, following the old path Theo had mentioned. It wound steeply up the mountainside. The pathway cut through the wild brush, its dusty surface littered with small stones that crunched beneath their boots. The morning air was crisp at first, but as the sun climbed higher in the sky, it grew hotter and more intense.

The view of the village and sea below expanded and changed the higher they went. The ancient path felt almost untouched, forgotten by time, as if very few people had ever passed this way.

They had packed some of the fruit and cheese from breakfast into a bag to take with them, and they stopped for lunch and a drink of water at what appeared to be the halfway mark. At least she hoped they were halfway.

When they had walked for another two hours, she caught herself from falling and grew frustrated.

"How much farther, do you think?" Amy asked, her voice breathless but steady.

Dante wiped the sweat from his brow and looked ahead. "Not much, I hope." He could see a clearing ahead and could sense an almost magnetic pull. "We're getting close."

"I miss my tennis shoes," she said when he helped her over a fallen tree trunk.

He chuckled. "I miss coffee."

She groaned. "The tea they give us is close. But I could go for a Frappuccino right about now."

They rounded a bend, and there it was—an old, weather-beaten temple nestled against the side of the mountain. Its stone pillars were cracked and crumbling, moss creeping up the sides, but it was still standing. An air of ancient power surrounded it, pressing against Dante's skin, making the hair on his arms stand up.

"How long do you think this has been here?" she whispered

"Hundreds, maybe thousands of years."

Amy stepped up beside him, her eyes wide. "It's... beautiful, in a way."

They walked through the stone archway entrance, and the long shadows immediately cooled their skin. Inside, however, the air was still, thick with dust and the scent of time long forgotten. The chamber was huge, and the ceiling was arched. There were faded murals along the walls—scenes of battles, gods, and figures that felt eerily familiar.

At the far end of the building sat an altar.

"Do you think they used to sacrifice things there?" she asked, and he felt her shiver.

"Most likely. Look at the writing." He moved closer.

Above the altar, carved deep into the stone, were pictures and ancient writings. His eyes immediately focused on the words, and despite their age, he was surprised that he could read them clearly, as though the text had been waiting for him.

"The time will come when Pandora awakens, guided by Epimetheus. From the future they return, souls reborn, destined to battle gods and save all worlds."

He read the words aloud, his voice echoing through the empty chamber. Amy stepped closer, her breath hitching as she traced the carvings with her fingertips.

"It's our story," she whispered. "It's all right here. The two of us meet the djinn, Mia. Us, fighting the gods over and over." She motioned to the walls and, when he focused, he could see the many scenes of battle etched in the stones, though they were faded and covered with vines. The murals told the same tale thousands of times.

"Reincarnations. We've been here before. We've fought many times before," he said as his eyes scanned the images.

One mural showed a man and woman—him and Amy, he realized with a shock—standing before the gods, weapons in hand. Another depicted a massive battle, the two of them at the center, circled by almost a dozen others who fought beside them.

"This is what we're supposed to do," he muttered. "Fight the gods. Save... everything." His throat tightened at the thought of the monumental task ahead. They had been destined for this all along, even when they didn't know it. Dante clenched his fists. "I'm not afraid to fight. But how do we change the outcome? The answer to that has to be here."

Amy's hand slid into his, her grip firm and steady. "The answer is here somewhere," she said, her voice filled with a conviction that calmed him. "We've come this far. We've been through too much to fail now."

They stood there together, absorbing the enormity of it all, as the mountain winds whispered around them.

The air in the temple shifted around them suddenly. Instantly, they both sensed that there was a presence nearby. Dante felt a tingling in his skin, an electric charge that made the hairs on the back of his neck rise. He glanced at Amy and saw her eyes dart around the room, searching the shadows for something they couldn't yet see.

Then a figure stepped from behind the altar, tall and imposing. His features were sharp, carved with an otherworldly intensity, his eyes glowing with ancient wisdom and fury.

Prometheus.

The Titan who had defied Zeus to give fire to humanity. Prometheus's gaze settled on them, his lips curling into a knowing smirk.

"So you've found your temple, together again," he said, his voice deep, echoing through the temple. "Pandora and Epimetheus, reborn."

Amy gripped Dante's arm, her knuckles turning slightly white. Dante's muscles tensed, ready for whatever was coming next. The last time he'd had an encounter with Prometheus, he'd been warned. This time, he sensed that this wasn't going to be a friendly reunion.

"We're here to understand," Amy said her voice steady despite the fear flickering in her eyes. "To figure out our path."

Prometheus tilted his head, studying her, his expression unreadable. "Your path?" he repeated, almost mockingly. "Your path has already been written. You come here, again and again, always seeking answers, and always trying to change what cannot be changed."

His gaze darkened, and he took a step closer, his towering presence growing more menacing. "And you, Pandora"—he spat the name like a curse—"you seek to awaken that which should remain buried."

"Why must it remain buried?" Amy's breath hitched. "We're trying to stop this. To stop the gods from?—"

"From what?" Prometheus interrupted, his voice rising with anger. "From the inevitable? You were given the gift of foresight, Epimetheus, but you always arrive too late. Always too late to prevent the destruction that you cause."

Dante clenched his fists, his pulse racing. "We're trying to fix this!" he snapped, stepping in front of Amy, shielding her from Prometheus's growing rage.

The Titan's eyes flashed dangerously. "You think you can fix what the gods have decreed? That you can stop what has already been set in motion?" He turned his gaze to Amy, and his expression twisted into something darker. "Pandora is the key to all worlds demise. She must not awaken."

Before Dante could react, Prometheus's body was engulfed in a bright yellow light and he lunged towards Amy, his hand outstretched as if to strike her down.

A primal fury ignited in Dante's chest, hotter and more powerful than anything he had ever felt. He moved without thinking, his body surging forward with strength he didn't know he possessed. His hand caught Prometheus's arm mid-swing, stopping the Titan in his tracks.

Prometheus's eyes widened, surprise flashing across his face as he stared down at Dante. "You..."

Dante didn't relent. He shoved Prometheus back with a force that sent him stumbling, his power shocking him for a moment. His heart pounded in his chest, his muscles burning with the raw strength coursing through him. His entire body was engulfed with a hot blue light that pulsed from his core.

Prometheus straightened, and for the first time a slow smile spread across his face, cold and calculating. "Ah, there you are, brother."

Dante's breath caught. The way Prometheus said the word brother suddenly caused his mind to wake to a memory he hadn't realized he carried. He wasn't just Epimetheus reborn. He was something more, something ancient, connected to the Titan before him in ways he couldn't yet fully understand.

They were… friends. Brothers.

Prometheus chuckled darkly, his gaze shifting between Dante and Amy. "Welcome back, Epimetheus. You always did have a penchant for protecting her. But the question remains... how long will you last this time?"

Dante's hands clenched into fists, every instinct screaming at him to strike again, to keep Amy safe at all costs. But Prometheus turned away, his smile fading as he looked towards the temple's entrance, the weight of centuries heavy in his posture.

"I grow tired of these games. You'll learn soon enough," Prometheus muttered, his voice lower, almost regretful. "This battle is not yours to win. It never was. This is why I gave the world Elpis." His eyes turned to Amy. "She is yours to find. But she too requires a catalyst. Find me in my future to wake her if you want to win this war once and for all. We are your missing pieces."

And with that, he disappeared, fading into the shadows as quickly as he had appeared, leaving Dante and Amy standing in the ancient temple alone.

Dante's fists unclenched slowly, the strength that had surged through him fading, leaving him feeling both powerful and vulnerable all at once. He turned to Amy, whose wide eyes met his, the shock still lingering between them.

"I guess we found our secret weapon," Amy said with a sigh.

"Did you feel that?" Dante asked, his voice thick with disbelief.

Amy turned to him and nodded, her breath shaky. "You... you glowed and you stopped him. Like a god."

Dante's mind raced, the words Welcome back, brother echoing in his mind. He swallowed hard, trying to piece together the fragments of his past life, of their shared destiny.

"Funny thing, I think we're friends," Dante said, his voice low.

Amy stepped closer, her hand finding him, her grip warm and firm. "Do you think you can control it? The power?"

He stepped back and thought about protecting Amy. Instantly, his body and his power reacted.

"Cool." She smiled at him. "Does it hurt?" She reached out and gently touched his glowing skin.

"No, just… it's different. I feel…" He flexed his arms. "Powerful."

After the adrenaline from the encounter with Prometheus subsided, they sat together near the entrance of the temple, unpacking the rest of the food they'd brought with them and eating before they started the long journey back down.

Neither spoke much as their minds lingered on the revelations of the day. The ancient writings in the temple, Prometheus's appearance, Dante's newfound powers—it was all too much to process at once.

After they finished eating, Amy used the rest of her phone's battery to snap as many photos and videos of the temple walls as she could until it finally died.

Then the two of them began the descent down the mountain just as the air grew cooler, signaling that twilight was setting in. Amy walked close to him, their fingers brushing as they navigated the uneven path.

They had just reached the town as the colors in the sky deepened into purples and blues. When they returned to the secluded building they'd been staying in, the heaviness in the air hadn't lifted. The silence was almost suffocating, and even though the night had settled, it was obvious that Amy's unease hadn't faded.

"What's going on in your mind?" he asked as they stood out on the balcony.

"You said that Prometheus warned you not to wake me." He nodded in agreement. "Then, was that a lie? Why is he afraid of me?"

"Maybe he's like us, afraid of the future. He does want us to find him, which means he could be as trapped in fate as we are," he suggested.

"He did say he was tired of the game," she pointed out and he saw her relax. "That makes sense."

"I think we should rest," Dante finally said, though his tone carried a question more than a suggestion.

Amy nodded wordlessly.

Later, as they lay in bed, the quiet of the night seemed to amplify the storm raging inside Amy. Dante noticed her tossing and turning, her breathing coming faster, more ragged. He reached out, his hand brushing against her arm.

"Amy?" he whispered.

Her eyes fluttered open for a second before squeezing shut again. She was still asleep, caught in the throes of some nightmare. Her face twisted, her lips parted as if trying to scream, but no sound came out.

"Amy," Dante said again, louder this time.

Suddenly, she gasped, sitting up with a start. Her wide eyes darted around the room, searching for something, her chest rising and falling rapidly as if she couldn't catch her breath.

"Hey, it's okay. It was just a dream," he said, sitting up beside her.

She turned to him, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. "It wasn't just a dream," she whispered, her voice shaking. "It was real. I saw him again."

Dante frowned, his heart squeezing in his chest. "Saw who?"

"Moros," she said, rubbing her hands over her face as if trying to wipe away the memory. "He was there… in my dreams. He kept saying… saying that I would cause the end of everything. That I was the reason he was going to destroy all of us. It's all my fault. All of this."

Dante's jaw clenched. He wanted to tell her it wasn't true, that she wasn't responsible for any of this, but the fear in her eyes stopped him.

"What else did he say?" he asked, his voice tight.

Amy's hands trembled slightly as she lowered them to her lap. "He kept calling me Pandora, over and over. And he said that I wouldn't be able to stop it. That no matter what we do, it's too late."

Dante reached for her hand, gripping it tightly. "We're halfway there. Maybe it's just a matter of time now. Whatever happens next, I won't let anything happen to you. I promise."

Amy didn't respond immediately. She stared down at their entwined hands, her brow furrowed as if she was trying to make sense of everything.

Dante's heart pounded in his chest. He hated seeing her like this—scared, uncertain. But there was one thing he knew for sure. "We can stop this. I'm not going to let anything happen to you. You and I, we've come too far. We're stronger together."

Amy nodded, though the worry in her eyes remained. She lay back down beside him, and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close.

As the night wore on, Dante stayed awake long after Amy had drifted back into a fitful sleep. He stared up at the ceiling, his thoughts churning with everything that had happened. His powers, their reincarnations, the threat of the gods, and now Amy's nightmares—it all felt like an impossible burden.