Brooklyn did not remember the truth of that night.
By dawn, the storm had become just another strange weather event in the newspapers.
Electrical disturbance.
Mass hysteria.
Gas leaks.
The usual lies humanity told itself whenever reality became inconvenient.
Police officers blocked damaged streets while exhausted civilians wandered through puddles trying to recall why they had blacked out. Doctors blamed exhaustion. Churches blamed sin. Politicians blamed infrastructure.
No one blamed the dead god beneath the Atlantic.
That knowledge remained inside only a handful of minds.
And every one of them understood something terrible had changed.
Inside the bookstore basement, Steve Rogers slept fitfully beneath layers of blankets.
Or rather—
His body slept.
His spirituality absolutely did not.
Silver-blue light pulsed faintly beneath his skin every few minutes, like chains tightening beneath water.
Elias sat nearby watching him in silence.
He had not slept at all.
Celeste stood near the ritual table reviewing hastily drawn symbols while Amon casually stole cigarettes from Elias' hidden cabinet despite never once being invited.
"Stop doing that," Elias muttered.
Amon lit the cigarette anyway.
"No."
The answer was immediate.
Naturally.
Celeste ignored both of them.
"The resonance stabilized after he spoke the oath."
"That sentence still sounds insane," Elias replied.
"Reality is currently insane."
Fair point.
Elias rubbed tired eyes.
His mind replayed the previous night endlessly.
Steve standing before the lantern.
The chains.
The oath.
The outline behind him.
And perhaps most disturbing—
The robed creature's fear.
It had genuinely feared Steve in that moment.
Not because of strength.
Because of authority.
A sleeping authority buried somewhere within fate itself.
Steve stirred weakly beneath the blankets.
Immediately Elias leaned forward.
The boy's breathing quickened.
Sweat formed across his forehead.
Then Steve whispered something unintelligible.
Celeste's silver eyes narrowed.
"He's dreaming."
"No kidding."
"No." Her expression darkened. "He's connected."
That changed everything.
Elias stood instantly.
"What kind of connection?"
Before Celeste could answer—
Steve suddenly grabbed Elias' wrist.
Hard.
Far too hard for his frail body.
His eyes opened.
Silver-blue.
Not fully human.
"…they're breaking," Steve whispered.
Elias felt cold spread through his chest.
"Who's breaking?"
"The chains."
The basement lights flickered violently.
Water began dripping from the ceiling.
Not rainwater.
Saltwater.
Amon immediately stopped smiling.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
Steve's gaze drifted unfocused toward somewhere impossibly distant.
"I can hear it moving."
Every instinct Elias possessed screamed danger.
He grabbed Steve's shoulders carefully.
"Steve. Look at me."
For several long seconds, nothing happened.
Then slowly—
The silver glow faded.
Steve blinked weakly.
"…Uncle Eli?"
Elias exhaled quietly.
"You with us?"
Steve frowned slightly. "Why do I feel like I got hit by a truck?"
Amon answered immediately.
"Because your soul briefly touched a chained sea god."
Steve stared at him.
"…I really hate you."
"Mutual confusion accepted."
Celeste stepped closer now.
"Do you remember anything?"
Steve looked down at his trembling hands.
"…Pieces."
"What pieces?"
Silence lingered.
Then quietly:
"There's something sleeping underwater."
Everyone in the room became still.
Steve swallowed hard.
"It's huge." His voice shook slightly. "Not physically huge. Bigger than that somehow. Like… it takes up space inside your head even when you aren't looking at it."
A very accurate description of high-level entities.
Unfortunately.
Steve continued slowly.
"And there are chains around it. Nails too. But some are broken." His face paled further. "Something's pulling them out."
Elias exchanged a glance with Celeste.
Hydra.
Most likely.
But perhaps not only Hydra anymore.
Because if the dream was spreading—
Other forces might already be moving.
Amon leaned against the wall casually.
"Did it say anything to you?"
Steve hesitated.
Then nodded once.
"…It asked my name."
Silence.
Absolute silence.
Even Amon's expression stilled slightly.
Elias felt genuine dread crawl through him.
Names possessed power.
Especially for conceptual entities.
Especially entities connected to pathways.
"What did you answer?" Celeste asked quietly.
Steve looked uncomfortable now.
"…I think I told it."
Elias closed his eyes briefly.
Wonderful.
Absolutely wonderful.
A godlike chained ocean horror now knew Captain America personally before he even hit puberty.
Timeline officially ruined.
A sudden knock echoed upstairs.
Everyone froze instantly.
Amon sighed dramatically.
"People are exhausting."
Elias immediately extended his spirituality upward.
One heartbeat.
Two.
Three.
Normal human presence.
Maybe two people.
No obvious corruption.
Still—
After last night, paranoia was healthy.
"I'll check," Elias muttered.
As he headed upstairs, Steve slowly sat up despite Celeste's protests.
"I'm not dying in bed."
"You're fourteen," she replied flatly. "Your bones are barely organized."
"I feel fine."
"You glowed."
"…Okay that part was weird."
Upstairs, the bookstore looked devastated.
Broken windows remained boarded temporarily. Burn marks covered several walls despite Elias' illusions suppressing civilian memories. The air still smelled faintly of seawater and ash.
Another knock came.
Elias approached carefully.
Then opened the door.
Sarah Rogers stood outside holding groceries beneath her umbrella.
Elias immediately felt his chest tighten.
Because for the first time in years—
He had forgotten she was coming today.
The exhaustion from the night's events hit him all at once.
Sarah looked tired but alive, wrapped in an old coat against the cold morning air.
Then her eyes narrowed slightly.
"…Eli."
Damn.
"What happened to your shop?"
"…Small electrical fire."
She stared at him silently.
"An electrical fire shattered the windows?"
"…Aggressive electricity?"
Sarah pinched the bridge of her nose exactly like Steve did.
Family trait.
"I leave you alone for one evening…"
"I handled it."
"Mhm."
Her eyes shifted past him toward the staircase leading downstairs.
"…Steve here?"
Elias immediately became cautious.
"Yes."
"Why didn't he come home?"
Because he fought a fragment of an eldritch sea herald while channeling forgotten divine authority.
Hard explanation to simplify.
"He stayed late helping clean."
Sarah frowned.
"He's sick again, isn't he?"
That question carried real fear.
Not annoyance.
Fear.
Because Steve had always been sick.
Always fragile.
Always one bad winter away from tragedy.
Elias softened slightly.
"He's resting downstairs."
Sarah pushed past him before he could stop her.
"Mothers outrank secrecy."
Unfortunately true.
Elias followed immediately.
This was bad.
Very bad.
Because Steve still carried residual spiritual instability.
And Amon was downstairs.
Actually, Amon being anywhere near family automatically made situations worse.
The moment Sarah entered the basement—
She froze.
Steve sat upright beneath blankets.
Celeste stood beside the ritual table.
And Amon casually waved with someone else's cigarette still between his fingers.
Sarah blinked slowly.
"…Eli."
"Yes?"
"Why is there a European cult meeting in your basement?"
Honestly?
Fair question.
Steve immediately tried standing up too quickly.
"Mom, wait—"
Then nearly collapsed.
Sarah moved faster than everyone else combined.
Mothers transcended pathways apparently.
She reached Steve instantly, checking his forehead with panic written across her face.
"You're burning up!"
"I'm okay."
"You're pale!"
"I'm always pale."
"…That is not comforting."
Amon quietly whispered toward Elias:
"I like her."
Elias seriously considered setting him on fire.
Celeste stepped forward politely.
"I apologize for the situation, Mrs. Rogers."
Sarah looked between them suspiciously.
"…Who exactly are you people?"
Nobody answered immediately.
Because the truthful answer sounded insane.
Sarah's eyes narrowed further.
Then suddenly—
She looked directly at Amon.
And froze.
The monocled man smiled pleasantly.
Sarah's expression changed instantly.
Fear.
Not ordinary fear.
Instinctive fear.
Like prey noticing something wearing a human face incorrectly.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
Amon's smile widened slightly.
"Oh dear," he murmured.
Elias noticed it immediately.
Sarah could sense him.
Not fully.
But enough.
Which meant—
The Rogers bloodline might possess stronger spiritual sensitivity than expected.
That possibility created several alarming implications simultaneously.
Sarah slowly pulled Steve closer protectively.
"…Eli."
Her voice had become very quiet.
"Tell me the truth."
The room fell silent.
And for the first time since awakening in Marvel's universe—
Elias realized he might finally be unable to hide the darkness surrounding them anymore.