The sky cracked at 3:17 AM.
Not with thunder.
Not with lightning.
With names.
Elias Crowe didn't look up at first.
He was too busy trying not to bleed on the pavement.
The alley reeked of rust and wet concrete. Garbage bags slumped against brick walls, split open and leaking dark water toward the gutter. Somewhere below, a subway thundered past—distant, indifferent.
Elias lay on his side, breath shallow, ribs screaming every time his lungs expanded. One arm was pinned beneath him, numb and useless. Copper coated his tongue.
Three men.
Too fast.
Too confident.
He'd handed over his wallet without a word. It hadn't mattered.
One had laughed.
One had called it practice.
The third hadn't spoken at all.
That one had kicked him.
Elias blinked rain from his eyes and focused on the narrow strip of sky between the buildings. Clouds dragged across it like bruises.
Then the clouds burned.
Letters tore themselves into the night as if the sky were flesh and something unseen had pressed a brand into it.
They weren't English.
They weren't anything modern.
And Elias understood them anyway.
ZEUS
RA
ODIN
AMATERASU
More followed. Too many. Names layered over one another, competing for space—gold, blue, crimson, blinding white. Constellations twisted, snapping into new shapes that hurt to look at.
The city screamed.
Car alarms shrieked in broken waves. Windows burst outward. Someone prayed. Someone laughed like they'd finally lost the last argument with reality.
Elias tried to push himself up.
His body didn't respond.
The air thickened, pressing down on his chest until breathing felt optional. The subway's rumble cut off mid-roar.
Silence slammed into place.
Rain froze.
Droplets hung inches from Elias' face, suspended like shattered glass. Sound vanished so completely his ears rang.
He tried to move.
Nothing.
Not even his eyes.
Pressure bloomed behind his forehead—not pain, not yet. More like a fingertip pressing from the inside of his skull.
Then a voice arrived.
Not aloud.
Not in sound.
It settled into him fully formed, heavy with certainty, as if it had always been there and he was only just noticing.
[MYTHOS SYSTEM — INITIALIZING]
The letters didn't appear in the air.
They appeared inside him.
Elias' heart slammed against his ribs. Panic flared sharp and immediate, but his body remained locked, trapped between moments.
[WORLD STATUS: MYTH INTEGRATION IN PROGRESS]
Pantheon Synchronization: 17%
Human Casualty Projection: UNAVAILABLE
"What—"
The word never left his throat.
The pressure intensified.
[DIVINE BLOOD SIGNATURE DETECTED]
Relief flickered—brief, foolish.
Good.
They've got the wrong guy.
Elias was nobody. No legacy. No destiny. No ancient power waiting to wake up.
Just a man who worked too much, slept too little, and chose the wrong alley.
The System paused.
The frozen rain trembled.
[ERROR]Blood Signature Inconclusive.
Rechecking…
The fingertip became a fist.
Elias screamed—
And the world crashed back into motion.
Rain slammed down all at once. Sound returned in a violent rush—alarms, sirens, shouting. The burning names in the sky began to fade, sinking back into the clouds like dying embers.
Elias convulsed.
Fire tore through his veins, absolute and intimate, as if something inside him had been lit and couldn't be extinguished. His back arched off the ground. Blood streamed from his nose, warm against his lips.
[WARNING]
LINEAGE CONFLICT DETECTED.
Pantheon Ownership: DISPUTED.
Ownership.
The word hurt more than the pain.
"No," Elias rasped. "You've got the wrong person."
The System did not answer.
Something else surfaced instead—older, heavier. The pressure reorganized itself with deliberate intent, like a mechanism clicking into place.
A second layer unfolded beneath the first.
[RESTRICTED DIRECTIVE — ACCESS DENIED]
Primordial Authority Marker: PRESENT
Status: SEALED
Recommendation: OBSERVE. DO NOT ENGAGE.
Primordial.
The word didn't feel powerful.
It felt prior.
As if it belonged to something that existed before permission, before law.
The alley stretched. Brick walls drifted apart by fractions of an inch, reality straining under a pressure it hadn't felt in a very long time.
Far above—beyond clouds, beyond sky—something vast shifted its attention.
On a floating mountain wrapped in storm, a throne of lightning remained empty for half a heartbeat too long.
In a reborn desert of gold and fire, a sun-god's gaze narrowed.
In the roots of a cosmic tree, a one-eyed god frowned.
They felt it.
Not him.
The absence where something should have been.
Back in the alley, Elias' strength gave out.
The fire dulled. Darkness crept in, soft and merciful. As consciousness slipped, one final message surfaced—quiet, almost uncertain.
[SYSTEM NOTE — UNLOGGED]Subject does not conform to known parameters.
Classification pending.
Elias Crowe lost consciousness with rain pooling beneath him and blood cooling on his skin.
Above the city, the clouds sealed shut.
The sky looked normal again.
But the world had already been claimed.
And deep within the architecture of reality, a rule broken once before stirred—uneasy, unfinished.
The gods would feel it soon.