Icarus awoke in a soft bed.
…How did I get here?
He pushed himself up slowly, white silk sheets slipping from his body.
Someone had changed his clothes.
They were light. Soft. Unfamiliar.
Even as a prince—he had never worn anything like this.
He stepped off the bed.
Cold marble met his feet.
He paused.
Looked around.
The room was vast.
Circular.
Endless in its whiteness.
Pillars of smooth marble rose toward a ceiling he could barely see.
Across from the bed stood a doorway—
but there was no door.
Only an opening.
Beyond it—
more white.
More marble.
More silence.
Icarus stepped out.
The hallway stretched endlessly.
Left.
Right.
Forward.
It didn't matter.
It all looked the same.
He walked.
Step.
Step.
Step.
He stopped.
Agatha.
His knees hit the marble.
His hands gripped his hair.
"Why…"
The word broke apart before it could fully form.
"I see you have awoken."
Icarus flinched.
He looked up.
And froze.
A man stood before him.
Tall.
Still.
Wrong.
His face… shifted.
A boy.
A man.
An old figure.
Over and over.
Never settling.
His eyes—
milky white.
Unseeing.
Blind.
Understanding struck.
Cold.
Immediate.
"The God of the Future," Icarus whispered.
The man tilted his head.
"...Yes."
Silence lingered.
Heavy.
Thinking.
Icarus stayed where he was.
Kneeling.
Small.
"Did you bring me here?" he asked.
The God nodded.
"I heard your call."
Icarus' expression twisted.
"Why?"
His voice trembled.
"You know I'm going to…"
A pause.
"…kill you one day."
A thin smile touched the shifting face.
"The future cannot be changed."
A breath.
"I know that better than anyone."
Tears slipped down Icarus' face.
Quiet.
Helpless.
The God extended his hand.
Sleeves of white silk drifting like mist.
"Come."
Icarus hesitated.
Then wiped his face.
And took it.
"…Alright."
They walked.
The God moved without sight—
yet never faltered.
Never hesitated.
As if the world bent itself around his steps.
Icarus followed.
Close.
Careful.
"What is your name, My Lord?" he asked.
The God turned slightly.
"Caelis."
Caelis.
Icarus thought of Caelum.
Similar.
Too similar.
They stopped before a door.
The first door Icarus had seen.
Caelis placed his hand upon it.
"My Lord…" Icarus spoke again.
"What about the other Gods?"
Caelis paused.
Then turned his head.
"They do not want to be alive."
Icarus frowned.
What does that even mean?
The door opened.
Light flooded through.
Caelis stepped forward.
Icarus followed.
"Where are we going?" Icarus asked.
The God's voice was quieter now.
Softer.
"Sorrow calls for witnesses."
A pause.
"…Someone wants to meet you."
Icarus' chest tightened.
Who now…?
They entered a vast throne room.
Light poured in from towering windows.
White.
Blinding.
Endless.
At the far end—
a throne.
Plain.
Dull.
Unworthy of a king.
And upon it—
sat something else.
A figure.
Covered completely in black.
No skin visible.
No face.
No eyes.
No mouth.
Only a smooth, featureless mask.
A cloak draped over them—
absorbing the light.
Devouring it.
A single shadow—
in a world of white.
Icarus felt it instantly.
Something ancient.
Something broken.
["The God of Time" is looking at you.]
A name surfaced in his mind.
He thought of a legend told in Solmara.
The God of Time who lost his love and cried so much his tears became an Ocean.
The same Ocean near Driftwood.
The one near Solmara.
Aevmaris.
The eternal sea of time.
The surface—present.The shallows—memory.The depths—everything lost.
And the sky above—
what had yet to come.
Icarus stilled.
The figure on the throne moved.
Slightly.
Barely.
["The God of Time" speaks.]
"Welcome…"
A pause.
A voice from behind the mask—
hollow.
Endless.
"…Prince Icarus."