Just as I was about to leave, someone called out to me:
"Damocles!"
An out-of-breath Athenian came running toward me. I recognized him Androcles.
"My name is not Damocles," I replied calmly.
"Then I must be mistaken? But they told me someone had appeared someone who looked like him. I've only seen one man in my life wielding such weapons and armor," Androcles said, still catching his breath.
"You're not mistaken. I was Damocles. In another life. Now... I am Atreus," I said.
"It's good to see you alive. So it was you who defeated that demon?" he asked, almost reverently.
"It's good to see you too. But I must go," I said curtly and turned away.
"Wait! You won't celebrate the victory with us? We're holding a feast tomorrow, in honor of the battle," Androcles exclaimed, grabbing my shoulder.
"No. I'm in no mood for celebrations," I said without turning back.
"Greece must know the name of her hero! Diogenes, by the way, spoke of you often," he added.
That was the one thing that made me stop.
"That old man's still alive?" I asked.
"Yes, but he's not quite the firebrand he used to be. Even grumpier now," Androcles chuckled.
To see him again… Perhaps. One last time before I left. To remember and then forget forever.
"Lead the way," I said.
As I walked through the city, I watched the people work, believing in their future. Hope burned in their eyes. Everything destroyed could be rebuilt. But those who had died they could not be brought back.
Even though I could.
I could turn back time, tear their souls from the Underworld, return them to their healed, living bodies. At first, it feels like a blessing. But then the truth sets in it would be a disaster.
The cycle of life and death exists for a reason. With the power of Demeter within me, I understood that better than ever before. All that is meant to perish must perish. Only then, from the ruins of the old, can something new be born. If not, everything spirals into madness. Even the purest intentions lead to ruin.
We arrived at the half-ruined Academy now serving as a kind of Asklepion.Though once, it had been a temple of knowledge.
"I'm fine! I've had enough of lying around!" a gruff voice rang out.
From the shadows emerged Heracles, wrapped in bandages.
"Not all your wounds have healed. Think about your recovery, not about playing the hero," Philoctetes muttered, arms crossed.
"I am recovered! Look I'm almost back to full strength," Heracles smirked and flexed, muscles bulging.
I saw pain flash across his face, though he tried to hide it.
Inside the building, I felt many wounded. I summoned the power of life and guided it to them. A warmth spread through their bodies, and slowly, their wounds began to vanish. Flesh knit back together, as though time itself were reversing.
"What the…" Heracles muttered, feeling the sudden surge of strength. Then his eyes locked on me. "Ha! It's you! Been a long time!"
He rushed toward me and wrapped me in one of his signature bear-hugs tight enough to crack ribs. I nearly struck him out of reflex, but he realized and let go.
"Well done," he said with rare respect. "You beat that demon. I gave him a proper thrashing for you, by the way."
"I had already been fighting him for almost a full day by the time he attacked you," I replied evenly.
A shadow flickered across Heracles' face. He hadn't lasted even an hour while I had stood against the demon for an entire day.
He coughed and turned away, hiding his awkwardness.
"Ha-ha-ha! Heracles got shown up!" Philoctetes shouted mockingly.
"You're a true hero," Heracles admitted. Then added, "Let's celebrate! A couple barrels of wine should do it!"
"I'll pass," I replied calmly and gestured subtly to Androcles that we should get away from the noisy pair.
"Pity. Think it over," Heracles said.
As we stepped inside the building, I saw the joy on the faces of those I had just healed. They didn't hide their tears. Some thanked the gods for the miracle, others simply stared in silence at their closed wounds.
But their gratitude shouldn't be for the gods. Their gods had abandoned them left them in their hour of greatest need.
Not a single Olympian had stood on the battlefield. Not one had fought for the future of Greece.
We arrived at a small chamber. Behind an old desk sat Diogenes, scribbling on parchment. Time had not spared him he had grown frail with age. He was no longer the man I remembered. His gaze was weary, yet still full of wisdom and sharpness.
Upon seeing me, he slowly stood.
"My old student. I wondered where such power had come from. It was your blessing," he said, extending a weak hand.
I took it firmly but gently.
"You've grown strong," Diogenes said. "From the first day I met you, I knew you were destined for deeds that would outshine the gods."
"I'm just a warrior," I said.
"Perhaps… perhaps," Diogenes answered with a faint smile. "But let's not sit in this dusty room. Come walk with me."
Androcles took his leave, and Diogenes and I stepped out into the Academy's courtyard. Once, it had been a garden a place for solitude and reflection. Now it lay in ruins. But I could already sense life returning.All it needed was time.
"Fascinating," Diogenes said after hearing my tale. "You've endured much. I'm sorry that fate has been so harsh with you. These trials found you."
He settled on an old, slanted bench and continued:
"My path through life was softer. A few bumps here and there, the occasional cliff I could walk around. I never reached for greatness, never tried to leap beyond my shadow. I learned to live with little and was content."
He looked at me for a long moment.
"But you… you defied fate itself. And now comes the price for your courage, your defiance, your folly."
"I understand that," I replied quietly. "And I don't regret my choices. My spear will carve the path forward to the very end."
Diogenes nodded.
"To the very end… So be it."
He gazed at the broken garden for a long while before turning to me again.
"But tell me the truth… Do you really feel no regret? Never wished to go back? To undo what you couldn't finish? To fix what was beyond your strength? To reclaim what was lost?"
My brother, dead because of my weakness. Demeter, who gave her life so I could be stronger. Would I go back, if I could?
It would be a lie to say I wouldn't. But I've accepted what has happened. My eyes face forward and only memory of the past keeps me human.
"I regret. And I will regret until my final day," I confessed.
Diogenes nodded, and his gaze met mine.
"Then forgive yourself," he said. "Even the mighty die. The primordial gods are long gone we walk in their remains. The Titans once ruled the world, and now they're chained in Tartarus. Everything ends. Time spares no one."
He fell silent for a moment, then added, almost in a whisper:
"My years are nearing their end as well."
"If you ask, I can…" I began, but he gently shook his head.
"No," Diogenes said softly. "Let it be as it's meant to be. I've lived my life. Perhaps I've left behind a sliver of wisdom. Maybe in the next life, I'll be reborn as a ram. What do you think?"
He smiled with quiet irony.
"I think it would suit you well, teacher," I said, allowing myself a rare smile.His strange sense of humor had always amused me in its own way.
"You finally called me teacher," Diogenes murmured with a faint smile. "Then I must have taught you something, after all. You were my first and only student."
"It's time for me to go," I said, rising.
"Then go," he answered, calm and steady.
Opening the path between realms, I stepped onto the plain overlooking the highest mountain Olympus. I raised my gaze to the heavens.
Let them hear my name again.
Let the skies tremble.