Selene POV

Last Night

I'm vaguely aware of a conversation taking place twenty feet from me. Jane and Miles are arguing about Mel's situation and what should be done about Dorian. Gabe's off to the side, being Gabe. Bless his heart. Meanwhile, I'm just standing exactly where I have been for the past ten minutes, staring at a bright red cosmic joke that'd actually be hilarious if it wasn't so offensive.

“I'm sorry. Explain this to me again from the top. You're saying that I should just trust your judgment about what's best for my daughter because you're—”

“The god of prophecy, yes, are we still on this?” Miles pinches their brow and groans. “And before you start on your next doubting soliloquy, the answers to your next three questions: Yes, 37-46-57-60-66 with a wildcard of 8, and no… I am not repeating that.”

Jane sits on one of the front row desks, staring slack-jawed at Miles. “God is the head of the humanities department at my school… wait… do you know everything I've called you behind your back?”

Miles rolls their eyes. “I am not god with a capital G. There are a lot of us and we are not as grand or powerful as certain modern cults would have you believe the divine are… But yes, I know what you called me and more than anything I am disappointed that our writing professor is incapable of coming up with more original and less vulgar insults.”

Jane blushes and crosses her arms, like a child that knows they've disappointed a parent. “Well then, lower-case god, I still don't agree with you letting some force of evil date my daughter, whether or not you say it's for her protection. It doesn’t sit right with me. Care to weigh in, Ms. Himmel?”

The lower-case god present chuckles. “Oh, she is not paying attention. She can hear us, sure, but she is not processing anything but the blank space she is staring into.” Before I know it, there's a hand snapping inches from my face and I'm forced back to reality. “Ms. Himmel, I believe Professor Garcia was asking for your opinion. To your mind, should she listen to me, the deity that knows how every decision will play out and the long-term ramifications of each action? Or should she follow her gut?”

My anger toward everything holy spikes because of my unwanted new connection, and I decide to spit some spite. “You're not infallible… If you were, Eleonora wouldn't have fallen, and I'd get to be excited about the red line that just formed from my chest.”

“What the fuck is a line now?” Jane asks, still playing catch up.

“That line is not anything!” Miles shouts, glaring at me harshly. “Surely you have been paying attention enough to know that a red line is something to be avoided, not heeded.”

“But it’s unprecedented for a line to just show up. This might be–”

“Foolish girl!” Miles barks, obviously out of divine patience. “You will meet the person on the end of that line, eventually. It is true, but doing so now will only cause harm. Be patient.”

“You know who's on the other end of this line, don't you?” I ask the already irate god. “You know where they are.”

“Of course I do, and when the time is right, I will lead you to them myself. For now, I just need you to hang back and wait. Once we have more information about what Dorian wants, we can figure out the best plan of attack and—”

“Unacceptable,” Jane roars as she crosses the room to rejoin the conversation Miles has tried to exclude her from. “You're telling me, oh great and all knowing god, that you dont know what this Dorian guy is planning? Your little future sight isn't giving you anything about his supposedly diabolical plans? Yet you still think you have the right to tell me that we should wait and see what he does to my daughter?”

“I just need more time–”

“No! That's your problem! You're so used to knowing everything, you've lost a fundamental part of being alive… You don't know how to wing it. You want to hang back and study while Dorian does god knows what! If you want to beat someone acting outside of the future you can see, YOU need to act outside of that future. Do something you would never do, go against this supposed best ending you've got planned. That's where you'll find someone like him, right?”

The room falls silent, aside from Gabes abrasively loud chewing, and Miles looks back at Jane. “What do you suggest?”

“For a start, why not help Selene with what she wants? While she takes care of that, me and you are going to figure out how to safely separate the cosmic jackass from my daughter.”

***

Present Day

“Alright, make a left here!” Gabe shouts excitedly, sticking his head out of the window like a dog enjoying the breeze.

“You know, you can just look through the windshield… Like a normal person,” I say, hoping he's as open to constructive criticism as he is to willfully subjecting himself to heartburn after gorging himself on cereal. Gabe pretends not to hear me as we turn into the parking lot of the local Sea Path Mall. “Have you ever seen the movie Hereditary?”

“No. Why? Is it good?” He asks, finally pulling his overly enthusiastic dome back into the safety of the car.

Without hesitation, I nod. “Yes, it’s amazing. You should watch it as soon as possible.”

The two of us walk through the courtyard and past the main stage, past the food court and every store we find. All the while, as we’re making our way through the entire mall, I see the line connected to me moving, tracing a single point that’s obviously incredibly close. Gabe brings me to an inconspicuous double door with a clear “employees only” sign warning the masses to stay away. “Here we are.” Gabe says, slapping one of the doors.

Pausing for a moment, I ask, “So… do we just stay out here until they come out? I don’t really feel like getting banned from the mall.”

The man whose long hair, robe-heavy wardrobe, and general demeanor could have someone easily mistake him for an underachieving Jesus cosplayer, giggles like a gleeful gremlin. “This is your first time here!? Awesome!” He dramatically pushes open the doors. “Then welcome to Karma–”

“What the FUCK happened to her!?” a woman screams in the distance.

***

E's POV


My lungs shriek as they race to draw in as much air as possible while I’m still above water. It never stops. I make it up to the surface, the tide pulls me further along, and when I get close enough to one of the lights, I get dragged under and forced to live through a greatest hits catalogue of my darkest moments.

“He’s just using you for you money. You’re nothing but an ATM card with a decent body. Let’s be honest, if you didn’t bring cash to the table, why would anyone waste their time on someone as bland as you? You’re that supposedly healthy, whole-wheat, sugarless cereal with a fancy prize at the bottom of the box. Nobody’s excited to pour a second bowl.”

Stop.

“Holy shit, you’re annoying. Has anyone ever told you that? You ramble on and on about shit that doesn’t matter. Tell me, do people actually enjoy spending time with you, or do you just kind of show up and impose your presence on others? You know what, I’m being unfair. I’m sure your good friends and that girl you like must get a passing spark of entertainment from watching you get all wound up. They must have a field day making fun of you when you’re not around. You’re the personification of one of those B-Horror movies that are only good for a laugh.”

Please… stop.

“You should be proud. He wants to be with someone just like you… just not you. I mean, it’s gotta count for something that if you were literally anybody else, he might just give you the time of day, right? Hey, maybe one day, if you outgrow this three decade long ugly phase, you might just get the guy yet. What do you mean? I’m not being shallow. It wouldn’t make sense for Quasimodo and Esmerelda to end up together. Just be happy that you can be his bro and listen to him talk about all the hot guys he dates. I’m sure that’ll be fun for you.”

I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…

I bob to the surface after yet another awful memory and immediately start trying to swim for shore, to escape the all powerful motion of the ocean drawing me towards more pain, more regret. “Please! If anybody’s out there… I need a break! Just give me some time!” The current swells and I feel myself being pulled to the next beacon. I futilely try to paddle away, eyes burning with tears and saltwater as my breathing fails me.

I… I can't do this anymore.

The hollow reverberation of a bell cuts through the endless whisper of the waves as I look up to find a massive boat approaching me. Summoning the last of my strength, I battle against the current and manage to hook one arm through the ship’s Jacobs ladder. I leverage this flimsy hold and start pulling myself up the side of the boat until I’m finally able to flop onto the solid floor of the deck.

Retching and shivering, I don't see the man approaching me until he speaks. “Ahoy, mate, welcome to the S.S. Salvation!” This voice… this fucking voice… Forcing my exhausted body to sit up, I'm greeted by a shit-eating grin wearing a tacky aloha shirt. “What's with the face? Aren't you happy to see me?”

Spitting up a bit more water through cracked lips, I manage to glare at the man before gritting my teeth and responding. “What do you want?”

The boy gasps and places both hands over his heart, assuming he has one of those. “I'm so hurt! Here I was, just passing by in the neighborhood, minding my own business, when I saw my dear friend in trouble and decided to help.”

“Since when are we friends? I met you once. The experience was shit.”

“You wound me, miss. Truly,” the boy says as he stomps around in his rubber slippers as the boat gently rocks over a sea of trouble. “Though now that you mention it, one good turn does beget another, does it not? I suppose there is something that you, and only you, can help me with.”

“Fu–”

“Before you reject me out of hand, maybe you'd like to hear what I'm offering first?” I put the obscenity away for now and listen, mostly, to give myself a chance to catch my breath. “First of all, because I'm such a nice guy, I'll let you skip the grand finale here. You did well to survive fifteen rounds, but we both know the last cut is going to be the deepest. Next… I'll make you MY acolyte. My FIRST acolyte. You'll get access to some of my power, you know the drill.”

Standing up slowly, trying not to tumble over with every shift of the ship, I lean over the ship's edge and see one last beacon in the water beneath us. “What are you the god of?”

The boy's lips contort into a smile even the Cheshire cat would think could be toned down a bit. “It's not what I'm the god of now, that should interest you. Rather, it's what I could BECOME the god of that's the real fun part.” I turn to face him fully as he just nods, sensing my curiosity. “Oh yes… see, Eleanora gave up on love. It's unfortunate, but it happens. Gods can kind of… fall out of place. That doesn't mean that love as a divine concept is dead, mind you. Just… dormant. Waiting. Nature abhors a power vacuum and let’s just say, I'd like to try my hand at something new.”

“You… want to be the god of love?” I ask, somewhat dumbfounded that this kind of change in management is even an option.

“Exactly. The new god of love. A BETTER god of love! One that will never look someone in the eye and shrug because the job is too difficult to do correctly! With me, everyone who wants love will get love! Everyone!” The boy’s eyes are wide as he shouts his desires over the horizon.

All I can do… is laugh. I laugh a lot at this, probably more than I should, considering the divine being who’s getting more and more irate by the second five feet from me. “When we first met… you called Eleanora a lovesick fool. You spat out the words like it was the most foul insult you could muster. Yet here you are, plotting a whole ass shift in the pantheon because Eleanora didn't give you a proper line… All of this pomp, all of this posturing… because you want love?”

“I don't WANT love… I DESERVE it! If you fucking mortals knew what I've done for you. What I sacrificed for this shitty universe. The burden I took from Eleanora and her lot… and for them to turn away. To pretend I didn't even exist. To twist the stories to glorify them and vilify me. I gave everything I was, everything I could have been, and she couldn't even help me in the one way it mattered most. The one-way everything could have been worthwhile.”

This boy in front of me is no god. He’s not some divinity far from the reach of mere mortals. He’s a child, wailing and throwing a tantrum in a toy store. Only, the plaything he so desperately wants can ruin the lives of so many. “I don’t know what happened between you and Eleonora, but I’m sorry. I know better than most how twisted that goddess can be.” Hope shines in his eyes and I shake my head. “But I can’t join you. The world doesn’t need another Eleanora. People are more than capable of figuring out their own hearts without her… without any god of love.”

“You don’t understand!” He snarls as he walks toward me. “The world has always needed us. If there’s no god of love, who will spin your precious lines?”

Looking over the side of the boat, the last beacon beckons me, promising incomprehensible suffering. “Who knows? And who cares?” With a final one fingered salute, showing my deep and unending respect for the gods, I hop off the boat and into the waiting light.