Page 43 of The Stars

After they finished eating, Amy used the rest of her phone’s battery to snap as many photos and videos of the temple walls as she could until it finally died.

Then the two of them began the descent down the mountain just as the air grew cooler, signaling that twilight was setting in. Amy walked close to him, their fingers brushing as they navigated the uneven path.

They had just reached the town as the colors in the sky deepened into purples and blues. When they returned to the secluded building they’d been staying in, the heaviness in the air hadn’t lifted. The silence was almost suffocating, and even though the night had settled, it was obvious that Amy’s unease hadn’t faded.

“What’s going on in your mind?” he asked as they stood out on the balcony.

“You said that Prometheus warned you not to wake me.” He nodded in agreement. “Then, was that a lie? Why is he afraid of me?”

“Maybe he’s like us, afraid of the future. He does want us to find him, which means he could be as trapped in fate as we are,” he suggested.

“He did say he was tired of the game,” she pointed out and he saw her relax. “That makes sense.”

“I think we should rest,” Dante finally said, though his tone carried a question more than a suggestion.

Amy nodded wordlessly.

Later, as they lay in bed, the quiet of the night seemed to amplify the storm raging inside Amy. Dante noticed her tossing and turning, her breathing coming faster, more ragged. He reached out, his hand brushing against her arm.

“Amy?” he whispered.

Her eyes fluttered open for a second before squeezing shut again. She was still asleep, caught in the throes of some nightmare. Her face twisted, her lips parted as if trying to scream, but no sound came out.

“Amy,” Dante said again, louder this time.

Suddenly, she gasped, sitting up with a start. Her wide eyes darted around the room, searching for something, her chest rising and falling rapidly as if she couldn’t catch her breath.

“Hey, it’s okay. It was just a dream,” he said, sitting up beside her.

She turned to him, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. “It wasn’t just a dream,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “It was real. I saw him again.”

Dante frowned, his heart squeezing in his chest. “Saw who?”

“Moros,” she said, rubbing her hands over her face as if trying to wipe away the memory. “He was there… in my dreams. He kept saying… saying that I would cause the end of everything. That I was the reason he was going to destroy all of us. It’s all my fault. All of this.”

Dante’s jaw clenched. He wanted to tell her it wasn’t true, that she wasn’t responsible for any of this, but the fear in her eyes stopped him.

“What else did he say?” he asked, his voice tight.

Amy’s hands trembled slightly as she lowered them to her lap. “He kept calling me Pandora, over and over. And he said that I wouldn’t be able to stop it. That no matter what we do, it’s too late.”

Dante reached for her hand, gripping it tightly. “We’re halfway there. Maybe it’s just a matter of time now. Whatever happens next, I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.”

Amy didn’t respond immediately. She stared down at their entwined hands, her brow furrowed as if she was trying to make sense of everything.

Dante’s heart pounded in his chest. He hated seeing her like this—scared, uncertain. But there was one thing he knew for sure. “We can stop this. I’m not going to let anything happen to you. You and I, we’ve come too far. We’re stronger together.”

Amy nodded, though the worry in her eyes remained. She lay back down beside him, and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close.

As the night wore on, Dante stayed awake long after Amy had drifted back into a fitful sleep. He stared up at the ceiling, his thoughts churning with everything that had happened. His powers, their reincarnations, the threat of the gods, and now Amy’s nightmares—it all felt like an impossible burden.

Chapter Fifteen

After her first nightmare, it was difficult to fall back to sleep. Listening to Dante’s even, slow breathing helped. However, her next dream unfolded slowly, like a fog creeping over a field, distorting reality. She was no longer in the temple or on Delos. This time she stood in an endless expanse of darkness. In the distance, the moon hung ominously low in the sky, its light pale and sickly, casting long shadows across the desolate landscape.

The earth beneath her feet trembled, and when she looked down, cracks began to snake across the ground, splitting the world apart. She could hear the deep rumble of the planet groaning, as if the very core of the earth was ready to explode. She heard screaming then, then a deafening sound, and she glanced up just in time to watch as the moon shattered, like it was being ripped apart by invisible hands. Pieces of it floated away in slow motion, glowing fragments of rock drifting through the sky like fireflies. But it wasn’t beautiful—it was terrifying. The pieces began to fall towards the earth, and she could feel the impending doom. Each fragment seemed to pulse with destructive energy, streaking down like flaming meteors.

Amy’s heart pounded in her chest as she tried to scream, to call out, but her voice was gone. She watched in helpless horror as the first fragment struck the ocean, sending waves as tall as mountains towards the land. In their path was a river of fire and smoke shooting up into the sky. The next piece hit the mountains, shattering them into dust. Cities crumbled as more fragments rained down, entire civilizations wiped out in mere moments.