Sleep didn’t come easily. The room was cold, the air thick with dust, and every creak of the building set my nerves on edge. The serpents rested lightly against my skin, their movements slowing but never completely still. They were as uneasy as I was.

Orion sat against the far wall, his gaze fixed on the cracked ceiling. He hadn’t said much since we stopped, and his silence felt heavier than the darkness around us.

“Do they ever stop?” I asked, breaking the quiet.

He turned his head slightly, his dark eyes meeting mine. “The Shades?”

I nodded, pulling my knees to my chest.

“No,” he said after a moment. “They don’t. They’re like a hunger that can’t be satisfied—always searching, always consuming. They won’t stop until they’ve destroyed everything that reminds them of the gods.”

“And you?” I asked, narrowing my eyes. “What are you to them?”

He hesitated, the faintest flicker of something—guilt? Regret?—crossing his face. “A complication,” he said finally. “Someone who’s been in their way too many times.”

I frowned, my fingers curling into the fabric of my robe. “That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the only one you’re getting,” he replied, his tone sharp.

The tension between us was palpable, but I didn’t push further. There was something about Orion that felt familiar, like a wound that hadn’t fully healed. He carried his own shadows, though he hid them well.

The silence stretched, heavy and oppressive. My mind drifted to the Shade I had killed, its unnatural movements, the black mist that seeped from its wounds. The way it had spoken, hollow and accusatory: You don’t belong here.

I couldn’t shake the feeling that it had been right.

“This world doesn’t feel real,” I said quietly, more to myself than to Orion.

He didn’t respond at first, but then he shifted, leaning forward slightly. “What do you mean?”

I gestured to the room around us, the cracked walls, the faint glow of the city lights seeping through the broken windows. “Everything feels... hollow. Like it’s all a façade, hiding something darker.”

Orion studied me, his expression unreadable. “You’re not wrong,” he said finally. “This city was built on lies. It thrives on them. The people here have forgotten what the world was before, but the echoes are still there, buried deep.”

“And the Shades?”

“They’re part of those echoes. Leftovers of a world that shouldn’t exist anymore. But you? You’re different.”

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I looked away, my jaw tightening. “Different doesn’t mean safe.”

“No,” he agreed. “It doesn’t.”

The weight of his words settled heavily on my chest, and I closed my eyes, trying to quiet the storm inside me. The gods had cursed me, twisted me into something I didn’t recognize, and now, even in a world without them, I was still hunted.

For a moment, I let myself sink into the darkness, the memories pulling me under. I could still feel the cold marble of Athena’s temple beneath me, the weight of Poseidon’s hands, the sharp, searing pain of betrayal.

The serpents stirred, their agitation snapping me back to the present. My eyes flew open, and I realized Orion was watching me.

“You don’t sleep,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

“No,” I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. “Not anymore.”

His gaze lingered on me, and I saw something flicker in his expression—pity, perhaps, or understanding. I wasn’t sure which was worse.

“You’ve been through hell,” he said finally.

I laughed bitterly, the sound harsh and sharp. “Hell would’ve been kinder.”

Orion didn’t argue. Instead, he leaned back against the wall, his eyes drifting to the cracked ceiling. “The world doesn’t give second chances, Medusa. It doesn’t care about fairness or justice. But you’re here now, and that means something.”

“Does it?” I asked, my voice sharp. “Or is this just another curse, another game for the gods to watch from whatever hole they’ve crawled into?”

“The gods are gone,” Orion said firmly. “And whatever this is, it’s yours to decide. No one else’s.”

His words struck something deep within me, something I wasn’t ready to face. I turned away, my arms wrapping tightly around my knees.

The silence stretched again, broken only by the distant hum of the city outside. I closed my eyes, trying to push away the memories, the fear, the anger that bubbled just beneath the surface.

And then I felt it.

A presence, faint but unmistakable.

The serpents hissed, their bodies coiling tightly, and my eyes snapped open. Orion was on his feet in an instant, his body tense as he scanned the room.

“They’re here,” I whispered, my voice trembling.

Orion didn’t respond. He moved quickly to the window, his movements silent and precise. He peered into the darkness outside, his hand resting on the hilt of a blade I hadn’t noticed before.

“What do we do?” I asked, rising to my feet.

“We move,” he said simply. “Now.”

I didn’t argue. The presence was growing stronger, the air around us growing heavier with each passing moment. The shadows seemed to ripple and twist, their edges sharper, more defined.

Orion led the way, his movements swift and deliberate. We slipped through the broken doorway and into the night, the city’s cold air biting at my skin.

The streets were eerily quiet, the oppressive stillness broken only by the faint sound of our footsteps. I stayed close to Orion, my dagger clutched tightly in my hand.

“They’re not far,” he said, his voice barely audible. “Stay close.”

I didn’t need to be told twice. The presence was suffocating now, pressing against my chest like a weight I couldn’t escape. The serpents hissed furiously, their agitation fueling my own.

We turned a corner, and that’s when I saw them.

A group of figures stood at the end of the street, their bodies shrouded in darkness. Their movements were slow and deliberate, their glowing eyes fixed on us.

The Shades.

Orion cursed under his breath, his blade flashing in the dim light. “Run,” he said, his voice sharp.

I hesitated, my body tense. “I can fight—”

“Not now,” he snapped. “Run.”

I didn’t argue. Turning, I sprinted down the street, my heart pounding as the sound of footsteps followed close behind.

The shadows twisted around me, the air thick with the scent of decay. The serpents hissed wildly, their movements frantic as I pushed forward, desperate to escape.

The city blurred around me, its sharp edges cutting into the night. I didn’t know where I was going—I only knew I couldn’t stop.

And in the distance, I heard them calling my name.