Confidence came easily after revelation.
They knew where Demeter was.
They knew how she was being held.
What remained was the smallest, cruelest problem of all—
where.
“The ocean is not a place,” Apollo said as they stood beneath a night sky glittering with stars that no longer obeyed mortal astronomy. “It is a thousand thousand secrets.”
Aphrodite frowned. “Titan prisons don’t drift. They anchor themselves to ley lines.”
“And the Pacific has more ley lines than anywhere else,” Apollo replied. “Which is exactly the problem.”
Keith had been quiet.
Too quiet.
The hum of the forge still rang faintly in his ears, but something deeper tugged at him now—an ache behind his eyes, a pressure in his chest that felt suspiciously like a question.
He turned slowly toward Apollo.
“You can see it,” Keith said. It was not a request. “The future.”
Apollo stiffened.
“I can see possibilities,” he corrected. “And most of them are lies wearing probability.”
Keith held his gaze. “Then help us narrow them.”
For a long moment, Apollo said nothing.
Hermes, sensing tension, cleared his throat. “Well. If we’re doing prophecy stuff, we should probably do it somewhere dramatic.”
________________________________________
Hollywood: The Palace of Illusions
Apollo’s palace rose above Los Angeles like a mirage—glass and gold wrapped in neon, perched atop a hill that mortals mistook for another celebrity estate. Spotlights swept the sky like searching eyes. Music pulsed faintly through the walls, a rhythm tuned to fame and longing.
“This place feeds on belief,” Aphrodite murmured as they entered. “Perfect for visions.”
Apollo’s expression was troubled.
“Prophecy demands a price,” he said quietly. “And the future does not like to be cornered.”
Keith stepped forward. “Then let it see me.”
Apollo searched his face, seeing not arrogance—but resolve.
“…Very well.”
________________________________________
The Vision That Should Not Exist
They descended into a chamber beneath the palace—a circular room lined with mirrors that reflected not faces, but outcomes. Candles burned with blue flame. Symbols of sun and time interlocked across the floor.
Apollo raised his hands.
“Do you understand what you’re asking?” he said to Keith. “Once you see a possible end… you will never unknow it.”
Keith nodded. “I already feel it.”
Aphrodite placed a hand on his shoulder. “Then don’t face it alone.”
Apollo began the ritual.
Light fractured.
Time unraveled.
The mirrors shattered into stars—
—and the world fell away.
They stood above the Pacific Ocean, impossibly high, watching moonlight bleed across endless water. The sea parted, revealing a wound in the earth far below—structures of Titan design embedded deep beneath crushing depths, glowing faintly with imprisoned power.
“There,” Apollo whispered. “Hidden beyond mortal reach.”
Relief surged through Keith—
Until the vision twisted.
The ocean vanished.
They stood instead in a field soaked red.
Blood darkened the soil, thick and clotted. Broken weapons lay half-buried. The air reeked of iron and finality.
Keith staggered. “This isn’t—”
Something moved behind him.
Too fast.
Pain exploded through his chest.
A blade unlike any weapon he had seen—etched with runes that devoured light itself—jutted through him.
He gasped.
Fell to his knees.
The world slowed.
He looked down as blood spread across his hands, warm and unreal.
Apollo screamed his name.
Aphrodite reached for him—
—but could not touch him.
The figure behind him leaned close, voice distorted, unrecognizable.
“Balance must break.”
The blade twisted.
Keith fell forward.
The vision ended.
Apollo staggered back, knocking over a brazier. Aphrodite screamed Keith’s name as the chamber snapped back into reality.
Keith collapsed to the marble floor—
Alive.
Breathing.
Shaking.
Apollo stared at him in horror.
“That future,” he whispered, “should not exist.”
Outside, the Pacific roared.
And somewhere beneath its depths—
Something waited for Keith to die.