13. Standing at the Edge of the World
Chapter thirteen
Standing at the Edge of the World
Atlas
Iraced across Odrikius’s campus with a Gehenna-bent fury, nearly floating above the ground because I could barely handle running.
Endymion was sitting in the old library, flipping through pages of what I presumed was the book I asked him to bring with him.
His all-white hair was sprawled down his shoulder, and he was twisting the ends around his finger to soothe himself.
Seraphine sat beside him, her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to decipher the pictures I’d sent her, while Erasmus and Ashlynn read over her shoulder.
I flung the door open, scaring the absolute shit out of everyone in the room, and stormed up to Endymion with my eye twitching. “Some great freaking fail-safe you created!” I boomed as I grabbed a spare magazine from the bookshelf and whacked him upside the head with it.
“Oww! What the Gehenna did I do now?” he bawled as he rubbed the tender spot.
“How about making an unstoppable force that can eradicate the whole planet? A second time, might I add, as your first test subject was my fucking son!”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, calm down a moment here. You knew about the Horsemen well before you made the pact. How is any of this my fault?”
“Because you made it so we would activate once every thousand years!”
Erasmus turned to Endymion with fury-filled eyes. Endymion threw his hands up immediately, knowing Erasmus was going to unleash Gehenna on him. “Now wait just a minute before you bite my head off...!”
“You did what?” Erasmus snarled.
Endymion huffed on nervous breaths. “This was a time where plague and famine were already taking over the world. I figured that, if the Horsemen triggered every thousand years, it would calm the overwhelming wars and disease plaguing the planet. It was meant to be a method to keep things under control!”
“But why didn’t it activate when he turned a thousand?” Ashlynn asked. Her gaze had been fixed on my exposed neck, which showed the bite marks from Ambermourn. I swore to myself for not covering them better in my rush to get here.
“That’s a good question, actually.” Endymion flipped wildly through pages of his journal. “Is there anything special that happened during your thousandth year?”
“Not particularly, no.” I shrugged nonchalantly. “We were busy with the Byzantine Empire’s war, but beyond that, Humans were moving in the right direction. Religious expansion made many modern kingdoms spring up, but the world was turning for the better, overall.”
“Maybe, because the year changed to a new decade, it threw off the balance of the activation?” Seraphine inquired.
“That wouldn’t make any sense, though. I turned a thousand in 1020, not 1000.”
“Close enough?” Erasmus attempted weakly.
“We cannot base things on a ‘close enough’ basis,” Endymion childishly disputed.
Ashlynn rounded the table and subtly used her energy to start healing the bite marks on my body by pressing her fingers into my back.
She was obviously displeased with them but was hiding this fact by doing it secretly.
“Whatever the reason, Atlas is now well past the point of activation. With his rise in powers once more, we are facing some serious issues if things were to go as planned. Endymion, is there any way to nullify the activation for longer?”
Endymion tapped his fingers on the tabletop.
“I have a theory, a weak one, but a theory. I wonder if, because the archaic and medieval ages were so riddled with disease, war, and famine, that maybe the Horsemen were using their powers enough to nullify the side effects. Like, they were tiring themselves out too much, so their powers weren’t at their peak performance. ”
“I questioned that myself. I figured, when I turned two thousand, that we didn’t activate because my powers were so weak,” I interjected.
“The issue with this theory is that the Earth has not been subjected to medieval-like conditions for quite some time. Atlas does not exercise his familiars often, so they are slowly brewing into unstoppable monsters. Add in his power restoration, and really, he is a ticking time bomb that Ambermourn or Pandora could certainly take advantage of.”
Erasmus cut in. “But why would he want Pandora? What could she grant him that is worth the risk?”
“She can restore his powers with that blade of hers if he helped her recreate it,” I reminded.
“Surely, for a four-thousand-year-old Elemental, this sounds like a wonderful deal. Ambermourn has lost a lot of his touch. He's reduced to making books with his free time. Imagine if an all-powerful God grants you new powers, and probably a slice of her new world for yourself. Wouldn’t you take the deal?”
“We are so royally fucked!” Seraphine sobbed. It was odd to hear her curse, but she was right after all. There was no denying the fact any longer.
“Thanks to someone, who seems to like doing all the fucking around here!” Erasmus roared, as his anger had begun to boil over.
Endymion rolled his onyx eyes. “Please, Erasmus, don’t start with me. I didn’t force Atlas to make the deal. I was able to control the Horsemen when I was the God of Death, so it’s not my fault that he can’t.”
“Watch yourself, dickhead. I’ve kept them at bay for centuries. I gave a huge part of myself to ensure your mistakes wouldn’t destroy the world, like usual. All my family does is clean up your fucking mistakes,” I acidly spat.
Endymion shrunk under my harsh tone. “Well, like it or not, this is the boat we are in.”
“Should we nullify Atlas’s powers? To keep them at bay?” Ashlynn peeped.
“No, absolutely not. We need all of you at peak performance while we deal with Pandora, especially if there is a threat that someone could release her,” Erasmus automatically answered.
“One question I still have: why was he looking into the rulers of Gehenna? What is their connection to all of this?” Seraphine pointed out.
I pursed my lips as I thought to myself.
“I have no clue. He’s getting information from somewhere, obviously, from someone who is connected to us and Gehenna.
” I jammed the back of a pen into Endymion’s neck, making him howl.
“This fucker is the only one I can think of who has access to all of that.”
“Why is it always me?” he moped. “I told you, I’m doing what I can to make amends. Why would I go behind your back to work with someone I don’t give a flying fuck about? Especially someone who is only going to make our lives that much more difficult.”
Ashlynn gripped my arm suddenly, her hands shaking as a thought consumed her. “Atlas… what if he’s working with Phillip again?”
My blood ran cold. A spine-tingling shiver ran down my back, like I was a cat whose fur stood up when he was frightened.
Everyone in the room matched my energy, looking to one another in hopes they’d find some other explanation.
My breaths came out as choked little huffs as I spoke, “N-No… he couldn’t be?
He-… Phillip wasn’t even a demon until recently? ”
“Yes, but he knows enough, now, about the situation because of his position. Ambermourn could easily obtain information about demons and the Original Gods from him?” Seraphine gasped and cupped her mouth. “Gods, does he ever stop hurting people, ever!”
My hands began to turn to bone. Ashlynn winced when she saw it happen and took one of them to try and coax me to a tolerable temperature. “Atlas, honey, now is not the time to get upset?”
“Especially if you’re a ticking time bomb,” Endymion whistled.
I ripped my hand free and summoned my scythe so I could slash the tip across my forearm.
My blood splattered like water from a broken faucet, making everyone cringe wildly, before I used the substance to etch a portal into the ground to Gehenna.
“I’ll find out right fucking now exactly what those two have been up to. ”
“Let us come, please, so you don’t do something stupid!” Seraphine begged as she shot up to tug on my bleeding arm.
I slowly turned to her, and whatever look I held made her freeze. “He’s your father; I don’t think you’re going to enjoy what I plan to do to him.”
The entrance to Phillip’s personal quarters in Libidine was decorated by an assortment of daylilies, a plant that could withstand the cold temperatures of the Layer.
Phillip had lined the archway with plumes of them, trying to make things more inviting in his eternal sentence.
I stared at the flowers for a beat, contemplating tearing them down, but decided against it.
Instead of knocking, I threw the door open, which smacked back against the wall loudly.
Phillip was seated on an intricate sofa with his daily soul totals in his lap, a pair of reading glasses on the edge of his nose.
He jumped wildly at the sound of the door being forced open, his papers exploding from his hands to coat the marble floors.
“Gods, Atlas, did you need to make such an entrance?” he hacked, as he had choked up on some tea he was sipping.
“We need to talk,” I barked sternly.
“I see that.” He collected his papers and set them on the coffee table before nodding to me once, a somewhat cheerful smile on his face. “What can I do for you?”
“I think you know exactly why I’m pissed.”
“Not this time, no, not particularly,” he chimed with a light shrug.
I flashed across the room and grabbed his throat, slamming him into the desk opposite the sofa.
He gasped as the wind was knocked out of him, his eyes crossing from the blow.
I used chains made from smoke to constrict around his wrists, ankles, and neck, pinning him to the desk.
“What is the meaning of this?” He choked off from how tight the chains were.