Page 25 of The Stars

Dante’s breath came in short, shallow bursts as he processed Prometheus’s words. He had been sent here to find Pandora, to wake her, to somehow save this world. But now, standing before someone who had seen the consequences of such actions, doubt gnawed at him.

Prometheus stepped closer again, placing a firm hand on Dante’s shoulder. “I have warned you. I have done what I can. The rest is up to you. But mark my words, brother—Pandora must not be unleashed. Let her sleep.”

With that, Prometheus turned and began to walk away, his figure fading into the shadows of the massive amphitheater. Dante was left alone. Every instinct told him that the stakes were higher than he could imagine and that his decision here would ripple through time and worlds in ways he couldn’t yet understand.

He closed his eyes again, feeling the cool wind brush against his skin. The path ahead was uncertain, and Prometheus’s warning echoed in his mind, but somewhere deep within him, there was a pull—a pull.

Dante opened his eyes and looked out at the empty seats of the theater, his heart pounding in his chest.

What in the hell did he know?

Chapter Nine

After Joe showed her back into the main silo area, where a group of people gathered to eat a meal, Amy sat in silence, mulling over everything he’d just told her. She recognized almost everyone in the dark, damp place.

There were kids of all ages running around with a soccer ball, playing quietly after the meal. Her nieces and nephew were among the ranks.

She sat with her knees drawn up, her back resting against the cold, curved wall of the silo. The dim lighting from the few oil lamps scattered across the room, casting a flickering glow on the faces around her—old friends, family members, people that she had once lived among before everything had gone so horribly wrong. Now they were huddled together—tired, skinny, weak—sharing a somber meal, trying to carve out some normalcy in this bleak, underground refuge.

Her thoughts kept circling back to what Joe had said. Moros. The gods. Pandora.

What in the hell was happening? Was all this real or was she dreaming?

Just as she was about to get up and find a moment of solitude, someone sat beside her.

She recognized Hope, Dante’s younger sister, immediately. Her presence was as quiet and mysterious as always. Amy hadn’t seen her since she’d graduated from high school. The last that she’d heard, Hope was in New York, studying to be a dancer.

“Remember me?” Hope asked as she gave her a small smile. Amy nodded. “I thought you might want to talk,” she said softly, pulling her knees up to match Amy’s posture.

Amy glanced at her, unsure where to start. “How… you were in New York.”

Hope nodded. “I came home after Dante disappeared, after the two of you disappeared on the same night. At first, those of us that didn’t believe them”—she motioned towards Xtina and the rest—“thought that the two of you had run off together.” She sighed and rested her head back as she glanced up at the top of the silo’s massive cover. “I was so angry. Our dad died not knowing the truth.” She shook her head and wiped a tear from her cheek. “Then, after the attack, everyone started believing their crazy stories.”

“Stories?” Amy asked.

Hope glanced over at her. “That the two of you were sent somewhere to stop this all from happening. When I saw you walk in here, looking not a day older than the last time I’d seen you, I knew.” She frowned. “But Dante’s not with you?”

Amy shook her head. “Not… yet.” She shrugged.

“I didn’t think I’d survive,” Hope admitted. “When the first wave hit, I’d just come home. Then the world was in chaos. We couldn’t hold the line. Most of us scattered.” She looked around the silo, her gaze lingering on the people huddled in small groups. “These are the last of us, Amy. We’re tired.”

Amy’s throat tightened. “What are you saying? That you’re going to run?”

Hope turned her head sharply, meeting Amy’s eyes with a defiant spark. “I won’t run. None of us will. We’ll fight... and when we can’t fight anymore, we’ll hide until we can fight again. That’s what survivors do.” She turned slightly towards her. “So, the question is, what are you going to do? What are you and my brother going to do to stop all of this from happening?”

Before Amy could respond, the ground beneath them shuddered. It started subtly, like the trembling of a distant earthquake. But within moments, the tremor grew, sending ripples through the metal walls of the silo.

Amy bolted upright. “What was that?”

Hope stood too, her eyes wide with recognition. “No... it’s too soon,” she whispered, her face going pale. “They’ve found us.”

Before Amy could ask who, a deafening screech tore through the air, and the ceiling of the silo—the massive dome above them—began to peel back, as though it were nothing more than the lid of a tin can.

A scream erupted around them. Everyone scrambled for cover as chunks of debris began to rain down on them. Amy’s heart raced as she looked up. A swirling mass of darkness hovered above the silo. She saw ugly creatures circling around a dark figure that was descending towards them.

“Moros,” Hope whispered, her voice trembling. “He’s here.”

Amy’s blood ran cold. She had never seen a god before, but the stories that her brother had told her were enough to instill fear in her.