Sand whipped and licked like flame at the dunes of an endless sea of gold. Winds, strong and heavy, carried them from their resting places, and filled them with sharp life that cut and scratched at anything that wasn’t made from stone or metal. On the horizon, even through the dense sand storm, tall pillars of torn metal lay finally dormant- freshly smoking from some massive crash or attack. From a distance, he was impossible to see.

Like an ant, a young boy trudged on through the storm.

Slowly, and with a small, soft arm raised up to grip at the tall collar of his weather-proofed poncho, he coughed. Sand had been filling his mouth and nose with every breath.

The desert wasn’t usually like this, strangely enough. In fact, even the dunes were new. There was a time, a long time, where the entire continent that it spanned over was completely dead still without a single breeze to cool the scalding golden particles that covered its surface. Howlderoy was the name of this place. A vast desert that was the size of many countries. Nothing could survive here, and yet its precious sand was quite valuable with its special properties.

The boy turned away from the winds, coughing hard as a magnificent boom thundered off in the distance. That was the reason this part of the world was like this now, wasn’t it.

“Zeus….”

Try as he might, his voice was small, his throat was dry, and he had nothing to speak of when it came to confidence. In his own mind, the small child was trying desperately to find anyone to latch onto. The friends that brought him here, his father figure, even enemies would be a welcome sight at this point. Oh, right.. Enemies.

If they found Zeus, it would all be over.

“ZEUS!”

He’d go on calling for what felt like hours to a small boy. His eyes darted from one dune to the next through goggles, cracked at the glass. Once red liquid stained itself brown against the right side of his face, and by the pained expression with every breath it was easy to tell that he wouldn’t be using that eye any time soon. He’d pause again, fixing his poncho and raising his head once more. Though the pain was something he’d grown used to over the past few hours in the storm, he could tell that he’d have one hell of a recovery process.

If he survived.

He’d go on for a bit more before he heard it over the howling winds. Near one of the nearby fallen shards of a giant mechanical beast, one that was still freshly smoking, a crater groaned in pain.

It would be a few moments before the boy could effectively bring himself over to it, sliding to the bottom of an artificial ravine that was dug up by the body laying at the other end of it. Here, the wind had all but stopped, and it was warm from the glassed sands that coated it like a slime. Warm like a fireplace in the winter.

“A… pollo.”

Zeus. The strongest man ever in Apollo’s eyes lay there in the dirt, shaking with every ragged breath as red poured from a gaping hole in his side. It made the boy choke, his facial muscles clenching up as he started, and failed, to run to the man that lay there several meters away. He’d stumble at first, the lack of air resistance causing him to fall over his own weight, but he’d get up and run over to where the much older man lay.

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“Ah… I’m so glad.”

The man’s voice cleared up immensely. Apollo didn’t know it of course, but he was putting on an act to make himself seem a lot better off than he was. If the kid were older, he would have likely tried to comfort Zeus.

“I was hoping that it’d be you…”

Apollo felt his chest tighten up, and finally he’d collapse before the man, trying to compare his current state to what he knew him as. The tall, bronze-skinned fighter with eyes that sparkled like lightning striking in a storm- simultaneously the darkest and brightest thing you’ve ever seen. His hair was short and silver like the metal of the purest forged steel you’ve ever seen. He’d only ever wear pants and sashes, clearly comfortable with his harder than stone body. He was always smiling, always healthy, always strong.

Now, he was dying.

“Zeus…”

It was all the boy could say as his facial wound reopened. The searing pain hitting him was simultaneously titanic and just plain annoying at the same time. It felt like his skull was splitting in two, it burned and itched, and he’d never experienced something on this level before. It made him want to die.

“Your Totem isn’t activating… you must be tired… sit down for a moment and relax, if you can.”

Even in this situation, the old man kept his head about him. His half-lidded eyes watched as Apollo crawled up beside him and lay down, resting his head on the man’s chest. Both of them stared forward down the trench of molten sand for what had to have been a dozen minutes or so, their breathing calming as the moments passed. It wasn’t nearly enough time to recover, but Zeus was running out.

“I have a gift for you.”

The goggles would be lifted from Apollo’s face. Despite the pain he was in, he stayed silent in the man’s arms. He knew Zeus would take care of him. He always had.

His large, worn hand would reach around Apollo’s head, pressing something cold like stone against his destroyed eye socket. With a bit of struggle, and fleeting, brief instances where the boy would cry out in horror, the job would be done. Suddenly, his pain would fade as though it were never there in the first place.

“Good, I can feel it… it’s working nicely, yeah?”

Zeus’ breath heaved as he tried not to cough, his lungs were likely torn and filled with blood by the second, and even still he’d been doing his best just to chat with Apollo. The boy nodded silently like a cat, his eye opening with only a bit of strain now. Scar tissue had woven his injury shut, and he felt as though he’d slept for several days and eaten a full meal or two…

“Listen carefully… What I’m about to tell you, you’ll have to remember forever.”

The boy stilled suddenly, keenly aware of the drastic change in Zeus’ tone. He was speaking as though he were about to get up and go fight again, or as though he were lecturing the boy one last time before he was set to go back into a spar… The man whispered something that burned itself into the boy’s brain- as though anything he’d ever heard before was just preparation, just training for what he’d listened to then.

Apollo’s eyes opened wide after what was mumbled. His jaw fell open and tears started to quickly form and fall down his face. With a short laugh, and a hand reaching up to rest itself on the boy’s head, Zeus would breathe his last, and slump over. His heart had stopped beating a minute or so before, but through his will alone he passed on that message.

“I believe in you. My only son.”