[i][b]In the late summer night, under hundreds of luminous candles,[/b][/i] lies a woman and her child. She is spent from hours of labor, and the child is weary from their first hours in the world. The woman, though, is familiar with both the world we see with our eyes and the one that lurks beyond our gaze...and she is impartial to either. Her eyes sweep the large room filled with silk, fine gold, and delicate lace. The woman couldn't care less about the glamor of it all; it is a room fit for a queen, and despite the rumors, she is no proper queen. The child stirs beside her, and the woman's attention immediately turns to them. Her warm hand caresses the child's flushed cheek, and it coos at her touch. The woman's smile brightens the room, a glimpse of her love shining through. *choice #The baby girl lets out a melodious whine and holds her mother's gaze. *set gender "female" *set he "she" *set him "her" *set his "her" *set man "girl" *set sir "Na Lavei" *set mr "Saora" *set gender2 "female" *set he2 "she" *set him2 "her" *set his2 "her" *set man2 "woman" *set sir2 "Ma'am" *set mr2 "Mr." *set bullyname "Gale" *goto eye_color #The baby boy lets out a melodious whine and holds his mother's gaze. *set gender "male" *set he "he" *set him "him" *set his "his" *set man "boy" *set sir "Ne Lavei" *set mr "Saore" *set gender2 "male" *set he2 "he" *set him2 "him" *set his2 "his" *set man2 "man" *set sir2 "sir" *set mr2 "Mr." *set bullyname "Garrett" *goto eye_color #The baby lets out a melodious whine and holds their mother's gaze. *set gender "they" *set he "they" *set him "them" *set his "their" *set man "child" *set sir "Ni Lavei" *set mr "Saor" *set gender2 "male" *set he2 "he" *set him2 "him" *set his2 "his" *set man2 "man" *set sir2 "sir" *set mr2 "Mr." *set bullyname "Garrett" *goto eye_color *label eye_color $!{his} large eyes, clear as day, are the color of... *fake_choice #Burnt amber, the same hue as the melted gold of Hephaestus's welded metal. Those eyes, as compelling as they are, send a shiver of both affection and fear through the woman. *set eyecolor "gleaming brown" #A brewing tsunami of water and ice made of Poseidon's own will. Those eyes, as compelling as they are, send a shiver of both affection and fear through the woman. *set eyecolor "watery blue" #Zeus' gleaming steel, glinting in the burning sunlight. Those eyes, as compelling as they are, send a shiver of both affection and fear through the woman. *set eyecolor "steely grey" #The vivid contrast of a clear cut emerald; the same that hangs off Athena's neck. Those eyes, as compelling as they are, send a shiver of both affection and fear through the woman. *set eyecolor "vivid green" #The black obsidian reflecting the dark pit of souls in Hades' domain. Those eyes, as compelling as they are, send a shiver of both affection and fear through the woman. *set eyecolor "reflective black" The woman's own ${eyecolor} eyes mirror the child's, and they stare at one another. The woman feels a tug at her heart strings and swallows the affection she feels rising up in her throat. When she had stood over the ancient stone and carved the prophecy of the war from the images that plagued her mind, she had felt the familiar thirst of power awakening in her. [i]It would be so easy to stop this vicious cycle...[/i] she had thought at the time, the dust of the stone coating her hands. [i]I could change it all.[/i] She is [b]the Great Prophet[/b]. But the prophet has learned her lesson from past mistakes in her youth; she cannot, and will not interfere. It is true that she is a selfish woman by nature and nurture, but that is one of the few lines she has yet to cross. Fate is fate, and only those trapped in its endless web could escape it. Besides, [i]he[/i] will be here soon, and she has a role to play...hopefully, for the final time. *page_break After visiting the second child, the one far less feared than the Great Prophet's *if gender = "male" boy, a god stands outside large mahogany doors. *if gender = "female" girl, a god stands outside large mahogany doors. *if gender = "they" baby, a god stands outside large mahogany doors. The god has only ever met the Great Prophet under extreme circumstances. After the horrendous events of the last decade, she now spends her free time locked in her room, or strolling the gardens, looking more like a flicker of beauty than a lethal weapon. Whether her isolation is to protest against the Council's recent descision, or to repent for her sins, no one is sure. [i]It's most likely the former,[/i] the god thinks. [i]As if the Great Prophet would regret all that she has done.[/i] The prophet in question sits atop large, silk sheets, nursing her child to her breast. As the god approaches, her striking gaze travels from her child to him, a small smile on her lips. Dangerous is not the word the god would use to describe the prophet upon first glance, but it is the most fitting... She is the only one who knows of his true nature. *fake_choice #And so he will approach this situation with kindness, of course. She would expect nothing less than that from him. The god plasters a sympathetic smile on his face, the light illuminating his kind features. "Are you well, Lady Prophet?" he asks. The prophet regards him with cool indifference, her lashes casting shadows on her face. "As well as expected. I assume you're here to rip my child from my arms and send ${him} away with one of your fellow councilors? Athena, was it?" The god grins despite her harsh words. "You describe it as a sin, my fair lady." "It [i]is[/i] a sin, my divine." she hisses in reply. "Take it," she says, lifting the baby from her breast and toward the god. "Be quick with this. I've done my part, and I rather not drag this out." The god, with shaking hands, takes the baby from the prophet. *goto conversation *label conversation *fake_choice #"Do you truly expect me to believe that this does not hurt you?" the god prompts. The prophet scoffs. "I do not expect much from you, if anything. How you choose to view this situation with your sick little mind is none of my concern." "So, you're finally leaving then?" the god asks. *goto continuescene #"What visions have you seen, prophet?" the god prompts. The prophet sighs, as if taken aback by the god's stupidity. "As if I would do anything to benefit any of you. The only visions I see are when I am asleep, and those include me far, far away on a deserted island." "So, you're finally leaving then?" the god asks. *goto continuescene #"So...you truly are leaving," the god prompts. Moments of silence pass before the baby's soft coo's turn into violent shrieks. The god attempts to restate his question over the noise, but the prophet does not answer. *goto continuescene #And so he will approach this situation with indifference, of course. She would find it cruel for him to show sympathy while he takes her child from her very arms. The god allows a passive mask to fall over his features. "It is time, Lady Prophet." he says, his voice cool. The woman regards him with cold indifference, her lashes casting shadows on her face. "As if I don't know. Are you ready to rip my child from my arms and send ${him} away with one of your fellow councilors? Athena, was it?" The god frowns. "You describe it as a sin, my lady." "It [i]is[/i] a sin, my divine." she hisses in reply. "Take it," she says, lifting the baby from her breast and toward the god. "Be quick with this. I've done my part, and I rather not drag this out." The god, with shaking hands, takes the baby from the prophet. *goto conversation #And so he will approach this situation honestly, of course. She would find it cruel for him to show sympathy while he takes her child from her very arms. The god allows his emotions to show on his face. "It is time, Lady Prophet." he says, his voice cool. The woman regards him with cold indifference, her lashes casting shadows on her face. "As if I don't know. Are you ready to rip my child from my arms and send ${him} away with one of your fellow councilors? Athena, was it?" The god frowns. "That's none of your concern. Tell me, oh Great Prophet, did the gods all truly fall for this show you put on? You act as if what we're doing is a sin." "It [i]is[/i] a sin, my divine." she hisses in reply. "Take it," she says, lifting the baby from her breast and toward the god. "Be quick with this. I've done my part, and I rather not drag this out." The god, with shaking hands, takes the baby from the prophet. *goto conversation *label continuescene The baby continues to cry in the god's arms, its small body struggling in protest. The prophet instinctively reaches out to comfort them, but under the god's cold gaze, she quickly brings her hand back to her chest. "Yes, finally." She says, clearing her throat. "I assume that will please you all. Though, I suppose nothing truly pleases any of you," the prophet mutters. She ties a dark robe around her body, leaving the comfort of the bed for the cold air the open windows provide. "You are dissmissed." The god struggles with the fitful baby whose screams echo against the walls. He attempts to rock ${him}, but he has never been great with children; they are the purest, most honest beings in the world, and they instantly recognize the darkness within the god. The god takes one final look around the disheveled room, and after staring at the Great Prophet's frame silhouetted against the starry sky, he turns to leave. *page_break "Wait," the Great Prophet's voice echoes. "One last thing." *goto naming *label naming The god turns around hesitantly. "Yes?" "I have a name," she says softly. The god has to strain to hear her, stepping back into the sweltering heat of the room. "It's my last request, and by now I'm not sure how much weight those hold...but if you could tell—" "He will be informed, Lady Prophet," the god interrupts. "What name have you chosen?" *if (gender="they") *goto they_name *if (gender="male") *goto male_name *if (gender="female") *goto female_name *label they_name *fake_Choice #"Alex." the prophet tells the god reluctantly. "Alex," the god repeats, eyebrows raised. "Well, it could be worse." The prophet finally turns to face the god. "It is simple, a stark contrast to the rest of their lives. It is my final request. You [i]will[/i] respect it." The god rests a hand on the door handle, then asks, "Do you know?" "Of your treachery?" the prophet says, her voice echoing. "That is a strange question...of course I know. I see everything, my divine." The god gazes down thoughtfully at the child that has long since exhausted itself into a deep slumber. "Then you must know why I'm aligning myself with Cronus. You must see that in the grand scheme of things...this is what's right." The prophet says nothing for a long, suffocating moment. Then, when she speaks, her voice is defeated, lifeless. "Everyone in this war will have their own idea of justice and injustice, of good and bad, of [i]right and wrong[/i]," the prophet takes in a shallow, shaking breath. "But that isn't what will cause all the death and destruction; what causes it is not being able to understand another person's right and wrong. For being so set in your ways that you lack the empathy to do so. Stubbornness, ignorance, and pride are your downfalls." The god shakes his head, disgust written clearly on his face, swinging the door open. "There is only one right and wrong, prophet. Soon enough, all will bear witness to that truth." The prophet stares at the God with a veil of anger contorting her lovely features. "And I swear...one day all will bear witness to [i]your[/i] truth. That is a prophet's promise, my divine." The god storms out of the room, leaving the prophet alone as the first rays of sun break through the horizon. *set name "Alex" *set surname "Angelis" *set fullname "Alex Angelis" *page_break *goto cronos #"Echo." the prophet tells the god reluctantly. "Echo," the god repeats, eyebrows raised. "You cannot be serious." The prophet finally turns to face the god. "And why not? The name is beautiful and withstanding, an undoubtedly stark contrast to the rest of their lives. It is my final request. You [i]will[/i] respect it." The god rests a hand on the door handle, then asks, "Do you know?" "Of your treachery?" the prophet says, her voice echoing. "That is a strange question...of course I know. I see everything, my divine." The god gazes down thoughtfully at the child that has long since exhausted itself into a deep slumber. "Then you must know why I'm aligning myself with Cronus. You must see that in the grand scheme of things...this is what's right." The prophet says nothing for a long, suffocating moment. Then, when she speaks, her voice is defeated, lifeless. "Everyone in this war will have their own idea of justice and injustice, of good and bad, of [i]right and wrong[/i]," the prophet takes in a shallow, shaking breath. "But that isn't what will cause all the death and destruction; what causes it is not being able to understand another person's right and wrong. For being so set in your ways that you lack the empathy to do so. Stubbornness, ignorance, and pride are your downfalls." The god shakes his head, disgust written clearly on his face, swinging the door open. "There is only one right and wrong, prophet. Soon enough, all will bear witness to that truth." The prophet stares at the God with a veil of anger contorting her lovely features. "And I swear...one day all will bear witness to [i]your[/i] truth. That is a prophet's promise, my divine." The god storms out of the room, leaving the prophet alone as the first rays of sun break through the horizon. *set name "Echo" *set surname "Angelis" *set fullname "Echo Angelis" *page_break *goto cronos #"Jordan." the prophet tells the god reluctantly. "Jordan," the god repeats, eyebrows raised. "Well, it could be worse." The prophet finally turns to face the god. "It is simple, a stark contrast to the rest of their lives. It is my final request. You [i]will[/i] respect it." The god rests a hand on the door handle, then asks, "Do you know?" "Of your treachery?" the prophet says, her voice echoing. "That is a strange question...of course I know. I see everything, my divine." The god gazes down thoughtfully at the child that has long since exhausted itself into a deep slumber. "Then you must know why I'm aligning myself with Cronus. You must see that in the grand scheme of things...this is what's right." The prophet says nothing for a long, suffocating moment. Then, when she speaks, her voice is defeated, lifeless. "Everyone in this war will have their own idea of justice and injustice, of good and bad, of [i]right and wrong[/i]," the prophet takes in a shallow, shaking breath. "But that isn't what will cause all the death and destruction; what causes it is not being able to understand another person's right and wrong. For being so set in your ways that you lack the empathy to do so. Stubbornness, ignorance, and pride are your downfalls." The god shakes his head, disgust written clearly on his face, swinging the door open. "There is only one right and wrong, prophet. Soon enough, all will bear witness to that truth." The prophet stares at the God with a veil of anger contorting her lovely features. "And I swear...one day all will bear witness to [i]your[/i] truth. That is a prophet's promise, my divine." The god storms out of the room, leaving the prophet alone as the first rays of sun break through the horizon. *set name "Jordan" *set surname "Angelis" *set fullname "Jordan Angelis" *page_break *goto cronos #"Kosmos." the prophet tells the god reluctantly. "Kosmos," the god repeats, eyebrows raised. "You cannot be serious." The prophet finally turns to face the god. "And why not? It means complete order, a stark contrast to the rest of their lives. It is my final request. You [i]will[/i] respect it." The god rests a hand on the door handle, then asks, "Do you know?" "Of your treachery?" the prophet says, her voice echoing. "That is a strange question...of course I know. I see everything, my divine." The god gazes down thoughtfully at the child that has long since exhausted itself into a deep slumber. "Then you must know why I'm aligning myself with Cronus. You must see that in the grand scheme of things...this is what's right." The prophet says nothing for a long, suffocating moment. Then, when she speaks, her voice is defeated, lifeless. "Everyone in this war will have their own idea of justice and injustice, of good and bad, of [i]right and wrong[/i]," the prophet takes in a shallow, shaking breath. "But that isn't what will cause all the death and destruction; what causes it is not being able to understand another person's right and wrong. For being so set in your ways that you lack the empathy to do so. Stubbornness, ignorance, and pride are your downfalls." The god shakes his head, disgust written clearly on his face, swinging the door open. "There is only one right and wrong, prophet. Soon enough, all will bear witness to that truth." The prophet stares at the God with a veil of anger contorting her lovely features. "And I swear...one day all will bear witness to [i]your[/i] truth. That is a prophet's promise, my divine." The god storms out of the room, leaving the prophet alone as the first rays of sun break through the horizon. *set name "Kosmos" *set surname "Angelis" *set fullname "Kosmos Angelis" *page_break *goto cronos #"Midas." the prophet tells the god reluctantly. "Midas," the god repeats, eyebrows raised. "You cannot be serious." The prophet finally turns to face the god. "And why not? Midas turned all he touched into gold, seen as a blessing at first, but ultimetly a curse. That is the power the child will have. It is my final request. You [i]will[/i] respect it." The god rests a hand on the door handle, then asks, "Do you know?" "Of your treachery?" the prophet says, her voice echoing. "That is a strange question...of course I know. I see everything, my divine." The god gazes down thoughtfully at the child that has long since exhausted itself into a deep slumber. "Then you must know why I'm aligning myself with Cronus. You must see that in the grand scheme of things...this is what's right." The prophet says nothing for a long, suffocating moment. Then, when she speaks, her voice is defeated, lifeless. "Everyone in this war will have their own idea of justice and injustice, of good and bad, of [i]right and wrong[/i]," the prophet takes in a shallow, shaking breath. "But that isn't what will cause all the death and destruction; what causes it is not being able to understand another person's right and wrong. For being so set in your ways that you lack the empathy to do so. Stubbornness, ignorance, and pride are your downfalls." The god shakes his head, disgust written clearly on his face, swinging the door open. "There is only one right and wrong, prophet. Soon enough, all will bear witness to that truth." The prophet stares at the God with a veil of anger contorting her lovely features. "And I swear...one day all will bear witness to [i]your[/i] truth. That is a prophet's promise, my divine." The god storms out of the room, leaving the prophet alone as the first rays of sun break through the horizon. *set name "Midas" *set surname "Angelis" *set fullname "Midas Angelis" *page_break *goto cronos #"Rain." the prophet tells the god reluctantly. "Rain," the god repeats, eyebrows raised. "You cannot be serious." The prophet finally turns to face the god. "I've always loved the rain. It is...simple in a way. This is my final request. You [i]will[/i] respect it." The god rests a hand on the door handle, then asks, "Do you know?" "Of your treachery?" the prophet says, her voice echoing. "That is a strange question...of course I know. I see everything, my divine." The god gazes down thoughtfully at the child that has long since exhausted itself into a deep slumber. "Then you must know why I'm aligning myself with Cronus. You must see that in the grand scheme of things...this is what's right." The prophet says nothing for a long, suffocating moment. Then, when she speaks, her voice is defeated, lifeless. "Everyone in this war will have their own idea of justice and injustice, of good and bad, of [i]right and wrong[/i]," the prophet takes in a shallow, shaking breath. "But that isn't what will cause all the death and destruction; what causes it is not being able to understand another person's right and wrong. For being so set in your ways that you lack the empathy to do so. Stubbornness, ignorance, and pride are your downfalls." The god shakes his head, disgust written clearly on his face, swinging the door open. "There is only one right and wrong, prophet. Soon enough, all will bear witness to that truth." The prophet stares at the God with a veil of anger contorting her lovely features. "And I swear...one day all will bear witness to [i]your[/i] truth. That is a prophet's promise, my divine." The god storms out of the room, leaving the prophet alone as the first rays of sun break through the horizon. *set name "Rain" *set surname "Angelis" *set fullname "Rain Angelis" *page_break *goto cronos #"Rowan." the prophet tells the god reluctantly. "Rowan," the god repeats, eyebrows raised. "Well, it could be worse." The prophet finally turns to face the god. "I have a fondness for the name. It is...simple in a way. This is my final request. You [i]will[/i] respect it." The god rests a hand on the door handle, then asks, "Do you know?" "Of your treachery?" the prophet says, her voice echoing. "That is a strange question...of course I know. I see everything, my divine." The god gazes down thoughtfully at the child that has long since exhausted itself into a deep slumber. "Then you must know why I'm aligning myself with Cronus. You must see that in the grand scheme of things...this is what's right." The prophet says nothing for a long, suffocating moment. Then, when she speaks, her voice is defeated, lifeless. "Everyone in this war will have their own idea of justice and injustice, of good and bad, of [i]right and wrong[/i]," the prophet takes in a shallow, shaking breath. "But that isn't what will cause all the death and destruction; what causes it is not being able to understand another person's right and wrong. For being so set in your ways that you lack the empathy to do so. Stubbornness, ignorance, and pride are your downfalls." The god shakes his head, disgust written clearly on his face, swinging the door open. "There is only one right and wrong, prophet. Soon enough, all will bear witness to that truth." The prophet stares at the God with a veil of anger contorting her lovely features. "And I swear...one day all will bear witness to [i]your[/i] truth. That is a prophet's promise, my divine." The god storms out of the room, leaving the prophet alone as the first rays of sun break through the horizon. *set name "Rowan" *set surname "Angelis" *set fullname "Rowan Angelis" *page_break *goto cronos #"I've chosen the name..." *input_text name "${name}," the god repeats, eyebrows raised. "Well, it could be worse." The prophet finally turns to face the god. "I have a fondness for the name. It is...alluring in its own way. This is my final request. You [i]will[/i] respect it." The god rests a hand on the door handle, then asks, "Do you know?" "Of your treachery?" the prophet says, her voice echoing. "That is a strange question...of course I know. I see everything, my divine." The god gazes down thoughtfully at the child that has long since exhausted itself into a deep slumber. "Then you must know why I'm aligning myself with Cronus. You must see that in the grand scheme of things...this is what's right." The prophet says nothing for a long, suffocating moment. Then, when she speaks, her voice is defeated, lifeless. "Everyone in this war will have their own idea of justice and injustice, of good and bad, of [i]right and wrong[/i]," the prophet takes in a shallow, shaking breath. "But that isn't what will cause all the death and destruction; what causes it is not being able to understand another person's right and wrong. For being so set in your ways that you lack the empathy to do so. Stubbornness, ignorance, and pride are your downfalls." The god shakes his head, disgust written clearly on his face, swinging the door open. "There is only one right and wrong, prophet. Soon enough, all will bear witness to that truth." The prophet stares at the God with a veil of anger contorting her lovely features. "And I swear...one day all will bear witness to [i]your[/i] truth. That is a prophet's promise, my divine." The god storms out of the room, leaving the prophet alone as the first rays of sun break through the horizon. *set surname "Angelis" *set fullname "$!{name} Angelis" *page_break *goto cronos #[Input name]. *input_text name *set surname "Angelis" *set fullname "$!{name} Angelis" The god nods, then rests a hand on the door handle. "Do you know?" "Of your treachery?" the prophet says, her voice echoing. "That is a strange question...of course I know. I see everything, my divine." The god gazes down thoughtfully at the child that has long since exhausted itself into a deep slumber. "Then you must know why I'm aligning myself with Cronus. You must see that in the grand scheme of things...this is what's right." The prophet says nothing for a long, suffocating moment. Then, when she speaks, her voice is defeated, lifeless. "Everyone in this war will have their own idea of justice and injustice, of good and bad, of [i]right and wrong[/i]," the prophet takes in a shallow, shaking breath. "But that isn't what will cause all the death and destruction; what causes it is not being able to understand another person's right and wrong. For being so set in your ways that you lack the empathy to do so. Stubbornness, ignorance, and pride are your downfalls." The god shakes his head, disgust written clearly on his face, swinging the door open. "There is only one right and wrong, prophet. Soon enough, all will bear witness to that truth." The prophet stares at the God with a veil of anger contorting her lovely features. "And I swear...one day all will bear witness to [i]your[/i] truth. That is a prophet's promise, my divine." The god storms out of the room, leaving the prophet alone as the first rays of sun break through the horizon. *page_break *goto cronos *label male_name *fake_Choice #"Aaron." the prophet tells the god reluctantly. "Aaron," the god repeats, eyebrows raised. "Well, it could be worse." The prophet finally turns to face the god. "It means 'light-bringer'. It is...simple in a way, surely to be a stark contrast to the rest of his life. This is my final request. You [i]will[/i] respect it." The god rests a hand on the door handle, then asks, "Do you know?" "Of your treachery?" the prophet says, her voice echoing. "That is a strange question...of course I know. I see everything, my divine." The god gazes down thoughtfully at the child that has long since exhausted itself into a deep slumber. "Then you must know why I'm aligning myself with Cronus. You must see that in the grand scheme of things...this is what's right." The prophet says nothing for a long, suffocating moment. Then, when she speaks, her voice is defeated, lifeless. "Everyone in this war will have their own idea of justice and injustice, of good and bad, of [i]right and wrong[/i]," the prophet takes in a shallow, shaking breath. "But that isn't what will cause all the death and destruction; what causes it is not being able to understand another person's right and wrong. For being so set in your ways that you lack the empathy to do so. Stubbornness, ignorance, and pride are your downfalls." The god shakes his head, disgust written clearly on his face, swinging the door open. "There is only one right and wrong, prophet. Soon enough, all will bear witness to that truth." The prophet stares at the God with a veil of anger contorting her lovely features. "And I swear...one day all will bear witness to [i]your[/i] truth. That is a prophet's promise, my divine." The god storms out of the room, leaving the prophet alone as the first rays of sun break through the horizon. *set name "Aaron" *set fullname "Aaron Angelis" *page_break *goto cronos #"Adrian." the prophet tells the god reluctantly. "Adrian," the god repeats, eyebrows raised. "Well, it could be worse." The prophet finally turns to face the god. "It is...simple, surely to be a stark contrast to the rest of his life. This is my final request. You [i]will[/i] respect it." The god rests a hand on the door handle, then asks, "Do you know?" "Of your treachery?" the prophet says, her voice echoing. "That is a strange question...of course I know. I see everything, my divine." The god gazes down thoughtfully at the child that has long since exhausted itself into a deep slumber. "Then you must know why I'm aligning myself with Cronus. You must see that in the grand scheme of things...this is what's right." The prophet says nothing for a long, suffocating moment. Then, when she speaks, her voice is defeated, lifeless. "Everyone in this war will have their own idea of justice and injustice, of good and bad, of [i]right and wrong[/i]," the prophet takes in a shallow, shaking breath. "But that isn't what will cause all the death and destruction; what causes it is not being able to understand another person's right and wrong. For being so set in your ways that you lack the empathy to do so. Stubbornness, ignorance, and pride are your downfalls." The god shakes his head, disgust written clearly on his face, swinging the door open. "There is only one right and wrong, prophet. Soon enough, all will bear witness to that truth." The prophet stares at the God with a veil of anger contorting her lovely features. "And I swear...one day all will bear witness to [i]your[/i] truth. That is a prophet's promise, my divine." The god storms out of the room, leaving the prophet alone as the first rays of sun break through the horizon. *set name "Adrian" *set fullname "Adrian Angelis" *page_break *goto cronos #"Alec." the prophet tells the god reluctantly. "Alec," the god repeats, eyebrows raised. "Well, it could be worse." The prophet finally turns to face the god. "It is...simple, surely to be a stark contrast to the rest of his life. This is my final request. You [i]will[/i] respect it." The god rests a hand on the door handle, then asks, "Do you know?" "Of your treachery?" the prophet says, her voice echoing. "That is a strange question...of course I know. I see everything, my divine." The god gazes down thoughtfully at the child that has long since exhausted itself into a deep slumber. "Then you must know why I'm aligning myself with Cronus. You must see that in the grand scheme of things...this is what's right." The prophet says nothing for a long, suffocating moment. Then, when she speaks, her voice is defeated, lifeless. "Everyone in this war will have their own idea of justice and injustice, of good and bad, of [i]right and wrong[/i]," the prophet takes in a shallow, shaking breath. "But that isn't what will cause all the death and destruction; what causes it is not being able to understand another person's right and wrong. For being so set in your ways that you lack the empathy to do so. Stubbornness, ignorance, and pride are your downfalls." The god shakes his head, disgust written clearly on his face, swinging the door open. "There is only one right and wrong, prophet. Soon enough, all will bear witness to that truth." The prophet stares at the God with a veil of anger contorting her lovely features. "And I swear...one day all will bear witness to [i]your[/i] truth. That is a prophet's promise, my divine." The god storms out of the room, leaving the prophet alone as the first rays of sun break through the horizon. *set name "Alec" *set surname "Angelis" *set fullname "Alec Angelis" *page_break *goto cronos #"Atlas." the prophet tells the god reluctantly. "Atlas," the god repeats, eyebrows raised. "Truly?" The prophet finally turns to face the god. "I have always had a...fondness for that word. This is my final request. You [i]will[/i] respect it." The god rests a hand on the door handle, then asks, "Do you know?" "Of your treachery?" the prophet says, her voice echoing. "That is a strange question...of course I know. I see everything, my divine." The god gazes down thoughtfully at the child that has long since exhausted itself into a deep slumber. "Then you must know why I'm aligning myself with Cronus. You must see that in the grand scheme of things...this is what's right." The prophet says nothing for a long, suffocating moment. Then, when she speaks, her voice is defeated, lifeless. "Everyone in this war will have their own idea of justice and injustice, of good and bad, of [i]right and wrong[/i]," the prophet takes in a shallow, shaking breath. "But that isn't what will cause all the death and destruction; what causes it is not being able to understand another person's right and wrong. For being so set in your ways that you lack the empathy to do so. Stubbornness, ignorance, and pride are your downfalls." The god shakes his head, disgust written clearly on his face, swinging the door open. "There is only one right and wrong, prophet. Soon enough, all will bear witness to that truth." The prophet stares at the God with a veil of anger contorting her lovely features. "And I swear...one day all will bear witness to [i]your[/i] truth. That is a prophet's promise, my divine." The god storms out of the room, leaving the prophet alone as the first rays of sun break through the horizon. *set name "Atlas" *set fullname "Atlas Angelis" *page_break *goto cronos #"Damon." the prophet tells the god reluctantly. "Damon," the god repeats, eyebrows raised. "That means 'to tame'. Are you presuming something, prophet?" The prophet finally turns to face the god. "Make of my choice what you will. This is my final request, and you [i]will[/i] respect it." The god rests a hand on the door handle, then asks, "Do you know?" "Of your treachery?" the prophet says, her voice echoing. "That is a strange question...of course I know. I see everything, my divine." The god gazes down thoughtfully at the child that has long since exhausted itself into a deep slumber. "Then you must know why I'm aligning myself with Cronus. You must see that in the grand scheme of things...this is what's right." The prophet says nothing for a long, suffocating moment. Then, when she speaks, her voice is defeated, lifeless. "Everyone in this war will have their own idea of justice and injustice, of good and bad, of [i]right and wrong[/i]," the prophet takes in a shallow, shaking breath. "But that isn't what will cause all the death and destruction; what causes it is not being able to understand another person's right and wrong. For being so set in your ways that you lack the empathy to do so. Stubbornness, ignorance, and pride are your downfalls." The god shakes his head, disgust written clearly on his face, swinging the door open. "There is only one right and wrong, prophet. Soon enough, all will bear witness to that truth." The prophet stares at the God with a veil of anger contorting her lovely features. "And I swear...one day all will bear witness to [i]your[/i] truth. That is a prophet's promise, my divine." The god storms out of the room, leaving the prophet alone as the first rays of sun break through the horizon. *set name "Damon" *set surname "Angelis" *set fullname "Damon Angelis" *page_break *goto cronos #"Elias." the prophet tells the god reluctantly. "Elias," the god repeats, eyebrows raised. "Well, it could be worse." The prophet finally turns to face the god. "It is...simple, surely to be a stark contrast to the rest of his life. This is my final request. You [i]will[/i] respect it." The god nods, then rests a hand on the door handle. "Do you know?" "Of your treachery?" the prophet says, her voice echoing. "That is a strange question...of course I know. I see everything, my divine." The god gazes down thoughtfully at the child that has long since exhausted itself into a deep slumber. "Then you must know why I'm aligning myself with Cronus. You must see that in the grand scheme of things...this is what's right." The prophet says nothing for a long, suffocating moment. Then, when she speaks, her voice is defeated, lifeless. "Everyone in this war will have their own idea of justice and injustice, of good and bad, of [i]right and wrong[/i]," the prophet takes in a shallow, shaking breath. "But that isn't what will cause all the death and destruction; what causes it is not being able to understand another person's right and wrong. For being so set in your ways that you lack the empathy to do so. Stubbornness, ignorance, and pride are your downfalls." The god shakes his head, disgust written clearly on his face, swinging the door open. "There is only one right and wrong, prophet. Soon enough, all will bear witness to that truth." The prophet stares at the God with a veil of anger contorting her lovely features. "And I swear...one day all will bear witness to [i]your[/i] truth. That is a prophet's promise, my divine." The god storms out of the room, leaving the prophet alone as the first rays of sun break through the horizon. *set name "Elias" *set fullname "Elias Angelis" *page_break *goto cronos #"Evander." the prophet tells the god reluctantly. "Evander," the god repeats, sounding out every syllable. "That means 'good'. Is there a wish you want to share, prophet?" The prophet finally turns to face the god. "It is...wishful thinking. His name is sure to be a stark contrast to the rest of his life. This is my final request. You [i]will[/i] respect it." The god rests a hand on the door handle, then asks, "Do you know?" "Of your treachery?" the prophet says, her voice echoing. "That is a strange question...of course I know. I see everything, my divine." The god gazes down thoughtfully at the child that has long since exhausted itself into a deep slumber. "Then you must know why I'm aligning myself with Cronus. You must see that in the grand scheme of things...this is what's right." The prophet says nothing for a long, suffocating moment. Then, when she speaks, her voice is defeated, lifeless. "Everyone in this war will have their own idea of justice and injustice, of good and bad, of [i]right and wrong[/i]," the prophet takes in a shallow, shaking breath. "But that isn't what will cause all the death and destruction; what causes it is not being able to understand another person's right and wrong. For being so set in your ways that you lack the empathy to do so. Stubbornness, ignorance, and pride are your downfalls." The god shakes his head, disgust written clearly on his face, swinging the door open. "There is only one right and wrong, prophet. Soon enough, all will bear witness to that truth." The prophet stares at the God with a veil of anger contorting her lovely features. "And I swear...one day all will bear witness to [i]your[/i] truth. That is a prophet's promise, my divine." The god storms out of the room, leaving the prophet alone as the first rays of sun break through the horizon. *set name "Evander" *set surname "Angelis" *set fullname "Evander Angelis" *page_break *goto cronos #"Kosmos." the prophet tells the god reluctantly. "Kosmos," the god repeats. "That means 'order'. Is that wishful thinking on your part, prophet?" The prophet finally turns to face the god. "His name is sure to be a stark contrast to the rest of his life. This is my final request. You [i]will[/i] respect it." The god rests a hand on the door handle, then asks, "Do you know?" "Of your treachery?" the prophet says, her voice echoing. "That is a strange question...of course I know. I see everything, my divine." The god gazes down thoughtfully at the child that has long since exhausted itself into a deep slumber. "Then you must know why I'm aligning myself with Cronus. You must see that in the grand scheme of things...this is what's right." The prophet says nothing for a long, suffocating moment. Then, when she speaks, her voice is defeated, lifeless. "Everyone in this war will have their own idea of justice and injustice, of good and bad, of [i]right and wrong[/i]," the prophet takes in a shallow, shaking breath. "But that isn't what will cause all the death and destruction; what causes it is not being able to understand another person's right and wrong. For being so set in your ways that you lack the empathy to do so. Stubbornness, ignorance, and pride are your downfalls." The god shakes his head, disgust written clearly on his face, swinging the door open. "There is only one right and wrong, prophet. Soon enough, all will bear witness to that truth." The prophet stares at the God with a veil of anger contorting her lovely features. "And I swear...one day all will bear witness to [i]your[/i] truth. That is a prophet's promise, my divine." The god storms out of the room, leaving the prophet alone as the first rays of sun break through the horizon. *set name "Kosmos" *set surname "Angelis" *set fullname "Kosmos Angelis" *page_break *goto cronos #"Nicolas." the prophet tells the god reluctantly. "Nicolas," the god repeats. "That means 'order'. Well, I suppose it could be worse." The prophet finally turns to face the god. "It's simple; his name is sure to be a stark contrast to the rest of his life. This is my final request. You [i]will[/i] respect it." The god rests a hand on the door handle, then asks, "Do you know?" "Of your treachery?" the prophet says, her voice echoing. "That is a strange question...of course I know. I see everything, my divine." The god gazes down thoughtfully at the child that has long since exhausted itself into a deep slumber. "Then you must know why I'm aligning myself with Cronus. You must see that in the grand scheme of things...this is what's right." The prophet says nothing for a long, suffocating moment. Then, when she speaks, her voice is defeated, lifeless. "Everyone in this war will have their own idea of justice and injustice, of good and bad, of [i]right and wrong[/i]," the prophet takes in a shallow, shaking breath. "But that isn't what will cause all the death and destruction; what causes it is not being able to understand another person's right and wrong. For being so set in your ways that you lack the empathy to do so. Stubbornness, ignorance, and pride are your downfalls." The god shakes his head, disgust written clearly on his face, swinging the door open. "There is only one right and wrong, prophet. Soon enough, all will bear witness to that truth." The prophet stares at the God with a veil of anger contorting her lovely features. "And I swear...one day all will bear witness to [i]your[/i] truth. That is a prophet's promise, my divine." The god storms out of the room, leaving the prophet alone as the first rays of sun break through the horizon. *set name "Nicolas" *set surname "Angelis" *set fullname "Nicolas Angelis" *page_break *goto cronos #"Pan." the prophet tells the god reluctantly. "Pan," the god repeats, eyebrows raised. "You cannot be serious." The prophet finally turns to face the god. "This isn't one of the rare occassions in which I'm [i]not[/i] serious. This is my final request. You [i]will[/i] respect it." The god rests a hand on the door handle, then asks, "Do you know?" "Of your treachery?" the prophet says, her voice echoing. "That is a strange question...of course I know. I see everything, my divine." The god gazes down thoughtfully at the child that has long since exhausted itself into a deep slumber. "Then you must know why I'm aligning myself with Cronus. You must see that in the grand scheme of things...this is what's right." The prophet says nothing for a long, suffocating moment. Then, when she speaks, her voice is defeated, lifeless. "Everyone in this war will have their own idea of justice and injustice, of good and bad, of [i]right and wrong[/i]," the prophet takes in a shallow, shaking breath. "But that isn't what will cause all the death and destruction; what causes it is not being able to understand another person's right and wrong. For being so set in your ways that you lack the empathy to do so. Stubbornness, ignorance, and pride are your downfalls." The god shakes his head, disgust written clearly on his face, swinging the door open. "There is only one right and wrong, prophet. Soon enough, all will bear witness to that truth." The prophet stares at the God with a veil of anger contorting her lovely features. "And I swear...one day all will bear witness to [i]your[/i] truth. That is a prophet's promise, my divine." The god storms out of the room, leaving the prophet alone as the first rays of sun break through the horizon. *set name "Pan" *set surname "Angelis" *set fullname "Pan Angelis" *page_break *goto cronos #[Input name] *input_text name *set surname "Angelis" *set fullname "$!{name} Angelis" The god nods at she prophet's decision, then rests a hand on the door handle. "Do you know?" he asks. "Of your treachery?" the prophet says, her voice echoing. "That is a strange question...of course I know. I see everything, my divine." The god gazes down thoughtfully at the child that has long since exhausted itself into a deep slumber. "Then you must know why I'm aligning myself with Cronus. You must see that in the grand scheme of things...this is what's right." The prophet says nothing for a long, suffocating moment. Then, when she speaks, her voice is defeated, lifeless. "Everyone in this war will have their own idea of justice and injustice, of good and bad, of [i]right and wrong[/i]," the prophet takes in a shallow, shaking breath. "But that isn't what will cause all the death and destruction; what causes it is not being able to understand another person's right and wrong. For being so set in your ways that you lack the empathy to do so. Stubbornness, ignorance, and pride are your downfalls." The god shakes his head, disgust written clearly on his face, swinging the door open. "There is only one right and wrong, prophet. Soon enough, all will bear witness to that truth." The prophet stares at the God with a veil of anger contorting her lovely features. "And I swear...one day all will bear witness to [i]your[/i] truth. That is a prophet's promise, my divine." The god storms out of the room, leaving the prophet alone as the first rays of sun break through the horizon. *page_break *goto cronos *label female_name *fake_Choice #"Anastasia." the prophet tells the god reluctantly. "Anastasia," the god repeats, eyebrows raised. "Meaning 'ressurection'. The irony will not be lost on her, I'm sure." The prophet finally turns to face the god. "Ressurection is a powerful word with an even more powerful meaning. It will define her life; she should grow comfortable with its terms. This is my final request. You [i]will[/i] respect it." The god rests a hand on the door handle, then asks, "Do you know?" "Of your treachery?" the prophet says, her voice echoing. "That is a strange question...of course I know. I see everything, my divine." The god gazes down thoughtfully at the child that has long since exhausted itself into a deep slumber. "Then you must know why I'm aligning myself with Cronus. You must see that in the grand scheme of things...this is what's right." The prophet says nothing for a long, suffocating moment. Then, when she speaks, her voice is defeated, lifeless. "Everyone in this war will have their own idea of justice and injustice, of good and bad, of [i]right and wrong[/i]," the prophet takes in a shallow, shaking breath. "But that isn't what will cause all the death and destruction; what causes it is not being able to understand another person's right and wrong. For being so set in your ways that you lack the empathy to do so. Stubbornness, ignorance, and pride are your downfalls." The god shakes his head, disgust written clearly on his face, swinging the door open. "There is only one right and wrong, prophet. Soon enough, all will bear witness to that truth." The prophet stares at the God with a veil of anger contorting her lovely features. "And I swear...one day all will bear witness to [i]your[/i] truth. That is a prophet's promise, my divine." The god storms out of the room, leaving the prophet alone as the first rays of sun break through the horizon. *set name "Anastasia" *set surname "Angelis" *set fullname "Anastasia Angelis" *page_break *goto cronos #"Amora." the prophet tells the god reluctantly. "Amora," the god repeats, eyebrows raised. "That means 'love', in the simplest terms." The prophet finally turns to face the god. "I'm rather surprised that you know the translation. Nevertheless, love is...something she will need an abundance of. This is my final request, and you [i]will[/i] respect it." The god rests a hand on the door handle, then asks, "Do you know?" "Of your treachery?" the prophet says, her voice echoing. "That is a strange question...of course I know. I see everything, my divine." The god gazes down thoughtfully at the child that has long since exhausted itself into a deep slumber. "Then you must know why I'm aligning myself with Cronus. You must see that in the grand scheme of things...this is what's right." The prophet says nothing for a long, suffocating moment. Then, when she speaks, her voice is defeated, lifeless. "Everyone in this war will have their own idea of justice and injustice, of good and bad, of [i]right and wrong[/i]," the prophet takes in a shallow, shaking breath. "But that isn't what will cause all the death and destruction; what causes it is not being able to understand another person's right and wrong. For being so set in your ways that you lack the empathy to do so. Stubbornness, ignorance, and pride are your downfalls." The god shakes his head, disgust written clearly on his face, swinging the door open. "There is only one right and wrong, prophet. Soon enough, all will bear witness to that truth." The prophet stares at the God with a veil of anger contorting her lovely features. "And I swear...one day all will bear witness to [i]your[/i] truth. That is a prophet's promise, my divine." The god storms out of the room, leaving the prophet alone as the first rays of sun break through the horizon. *set name "Amora" *set surname "Angelis" *set fullname "Amora Angelis" *page_break *goto cronos #"Avani." the prophet tells the god reluctantly. "Avani," the god repeats, eyebrows raised. "I am not familiar with that translation." The prophet finally turns to face the god. "I'm not surprised. Nevertheless, the name is simple, but with an underlying ruthlessness. This is my final request. You [i]will[/i] respect it." The god rests a hand on the door handle, then asks, "Do you know?" "Of your treachery?" the prophet says, her voice echoing. "That is a strange question...of course I know. I see everything, my divine." The god gazes down thoughtfully at the child that has long since exhausted itself into a deep slumber. "Then you must know why I'm aligning myself with Cronus. You must see that in the grand scheme of things...this is what's right." The prophet says nothing for a long, suffocating moment. Then, when she speaks, her voice is defeated, lifeless. "Everyone in this war will have their own idea of justice and injustice, of good and bad, of [i]right and wrong[/i]," the prophet takes in a shallow, shaking breath. "But that isn't what will cause all the death and destruction; what causes it is not being able to understand another person's right and wrong. For being so set in your ways that you lack the empathy to do so. Stubbornness, ignorance, and pride are your downfalls." The god shakes his head, disgust written clearly on his face, swinging the door open. "There is only one right and wrong, prophet. Soon enough, all will bear witness to that truth." The prophet stares at the God with a veil of anger contorting her lovely features. "And I swear...one day all will bear witness to [i]your[/i] truth. That is a prophet's promise, my divine." The god storms out of the room, leaving the prophet alone as the first rays of sun break through the horizon. *set name "Avani" *set surname "Angelis" *set fullname "Avani Angelis" *page_break *goto cronos #"Celeste." the prophet tells the god reluctantly. "Celeste," the god repeats, eyebrows raised. "Meaning 'heavenly' in Latin. Ironic, don't you think?" The prophet finally turns to face the god. "No, I don't. You may see the child as a menance, but to many around this world...she is their savior. This is my final request. You [i]will[/i] respect it." The god rests a hand on the door handle, then asks, "Do you know?" "Of your treachery?" the prophet says, her voice echoing. "That is a strange question...of course I know. I see everything, my divine." The god gazes down thoughtfully at the child that has long since exhausted itself into a deep slumber. "Then you must know why I'm aligning myself with Cronus. You must see that in the grand scheme of things...this is what's right." The prophet says nothing for a long, suffocating moment. Then, when she speaks, her voice is defeated, lifeless. "Everyone in this war will have their own idea of justice and injustice, of good and bad, of [i]right and wrong[/i]," the prophet takes in a shallow, shaking breath. "But that isn't what will cause all the death and destruction; what causes it is not being able to understand another person's right and wrong. For being so set in your ways that you lack the empathy to do so. Stubbornness, ignorance, and pride are your downfalls." The god shakes his head, disgust written clearly on his face, swinging the door open. "There is only one right and wrong, prophet. Soon enough, all will bear witness to that truth." The prophet stares at the God with a veil of anger contorting her lovely features. "And I swear...one day all will bear witness to [i]your[/i] truth. That is a prophet's promise, my divine." The god storms out of the room, leaving the prophet alone as the first rays of sun break through the horizon. *set name "Celeste" *set surname "Angelis" *set fullname "Celeste Angelis" *page_break *goto cronos #"Cleo." the prophet tells the god reluctantly. "Cleo," the god repeats, eyebrows raised. "Meaning 'glory' in Greek. Is that wishful thinking, prophet?" The prophet finally turns to face the god. "Glory is not something easily defined, at least no from such a biased perspective. This is my final request. You [i]will[/i] respect it." The god rests a hand on the door handle, then asks, "Do you know?" "Of your treachery?" the prophet says, her voice echoing. "That is a strange question...of course I know. I see everything, my divine." The god gazes down thoughtfully at the child that has long since exhausted itself into a deep slumber. "Then you must know why I'm aligning myself with Cronus. You must see that in the grand scheme of things...this is what's right." The prophet says nothing for a long, suffocating moment. Then, when she speaks, her voice is defeated, lifeless. "Everyone in this war will have their own idea of justice and injustice, of good and bad, of [i]right and wrong[/i]," the prophet takes in a shallow, shaking breath. "But that isn't what will cause all the death and destruction; what causes it is not being able to understand another person's right and wrong. For being so set in your ways that you lack the empathy to do so. Stubbornness, ignorance, and pride are your downfalls." The god shakes his head, disgust written clearly on his face, swinging the door open. "There is only one right and wrong, prophet. Soon enough, all will bear witness to that truth." The prophet stares at the God with a veil of anger contorting her lovely features. "And I swear...one day all will bear witness to [i]your[/i] truth. That is a prophet's promise, my divine." The god storms out of the room, leaving the prophet alone as the first rays of sun break through the horizon. *set name "Cleo" *set surname "Angelis" *set fullname "Cleo Angelis" *page_break *goto cronos #"Mia." the prophet tells the god reluctantly. "Mia," the god repeats, eyebrows raised. "Meaning 'mine' in Italian. Are you truly stating that the child-" The prophet finally turns to face the god, raising a hand. "Do not lecture me. This is my final request, and you [i]will[/i] respect it." The god rests a hand on the door handle, then asks, "Do you know?" "Of your treachery?" the prophet says, her voice echoing. "That is a strange question...of course I know. I see everything, my divine." The god gazes down thoughtfully at the child that has long since exhausted itself into a deep slumber. "Then you must know why I'm aligning myself with Cronus. You must see that in the grand scheme of things...this is what's right." The prophet says nothing for a long, suffocating moment. Then, when she speaks, her voice is defeated, lifeless. "Everyone in this war will have their own idea of justice and injustice, of good and bad, of [i]right and wrong[/i]," the prophet takes in a shallow, shaking breath. "But that isn't what will cause all the death and destruction; what causes it is not being able to understand another person's right and wrong. For being so set in your ways that you lack the empathy to do so. Stubbornness, ignorance, and pride are your downfalls." The god shakes his head, disgust written clearly on his face, swinging the door open. "There is only one right and wrong, prophet. Soon enough, all will bear witness to that truth." The prophet stares at the God with a veil of anger contorting her lovely features. "And I swear...one day all will bear witness to [i]your[/i] truth. That is a prophet's promise, my divine." The god storms out of the room, leaving the prophet alone as the first rays of sun break through the horizon. *set name "Mia" *set surname "Angelis" *set fullname "Mia Angelis" *page_break *goto cronos #"Nyx." the prophet tells the god reluctantly. "Nyx," the god repeats, eyebrows raised. "You must truly be as delusional as they say. You want to name the child after the Goddess of the night? Many cannot even utter her name without-" The prophet finally turns to face the god, interrupting him. "What better way to strike fear into the very core of her enemies? This is my final request, and you [i]will[/i] respect it." The god rests a hand on the door handle, then asks, "Do you know?" "Of your treachery?" the prophet says, her voice echoing. "That is a strange question...of course I know. I see everything, my divine." The god gazes down thoughtfully at the child that has long since exhausted itself into a deep slumber. "Then you must know why I'm aligning myself with Cronus. You must see that in the grand scheme of things...this is what's right." The prophet says nothing for a long, suffocating moment. Then, when she speaks, her voice is defeated, lifeless. "Everyone in this war will have their own idea of justice and injustice, of good and bad, of [i]right and wrong[/i]," the prophet takes in a shallow, shaking breath. "But that isn't what will cause all the death and destruction; what causes it is not being able to understand another person's right and wrong. For being so set in your ways that you lack the empathy to do so. Stubbornness, ignorance, and pride are your downfalls." The god shakes his head, disgust written clearly on his face, swinging the door open. "There is only one right and wrong, prophet. Soon enough, all will bear witness to that truth." The prophet stares at the God with a veil of anger contorting her lovely features. "And I swear...one day all will bear witness to [i]your[/i] truth. That is a prophet's promise, my divine." The god storms out of the room, leaving the prophet alone as the first rays of sun break through the horizon. *set name "Nyx" *set surname "Angelis" *set fullname "Nyx Angelis" *page_break *goto cronos #"Phoebe." the prophet tells the god reluctantly. "Phoebe," the god repeats, eyebrows raised. "Meaning 'radiant, shining one'. Wishful thinking, prophet?" The prophet finally turns to face the god, raising a hand. "What better way to sensure a bright future than a name that is known more than yourself? This is my final request; you [i]will[/i] respect it." The god rests a hand on the door handle, then asks, "Do you know?" "Of your treachery?" the prophet says, her voice echoing. "That is a strange question...of course I know. I see everything, my divine." The god gazes down thoughtfully at the child that has long since exhausted itself into a deep slumber. "Then you must know why I'm aligning myself with Cronus. You must see that in the grand scheme of things...this is what's right." The prophet says nothing for a long, suffocating moment. Then, when she speaks, her voice is defeated, lifeless. "Everyone in this war will have their own idea of justice and injustice, of good and bad, of [i]right and wrong[/i]," the prophet takes in a shallow, shaking breath. "But that isn't what will cause all the death and destruction; what causes it is not being able to understand another person's right and wrong. For being so set in your ways that you lack the empathy to do so. Stubbornness, ignorance, and pride are your downfalls." The god shakes his head, disgust written clearly on his face, swinging the door open. "There is only one right and wrong, prophet. Soon enough, all will bear witness to that truth." The prophet stares at the God with a veil of anger contorting her lovely features. "And I swear...one day all will bear witness to [i]your[/i] truth. That is a prophet's promise, my divine." The god storms out of the room, leaving the prophet alone as the first rays of sun break through the horizon. *set name "Phoebe" *set surname "Angelis" *set fullname "Phoebe Angelis" *page_break *goto cronos #[Input name] *input_text name *set surname "Angelis" *set fullname "$!{name} Angelis" The god nods, then rests a hand on the door handle. "Do you know?" "Of your treachery?" the prophet says, her voice echoing. "That is a strange question...of course I know. I see everything, my divine." The god gazes down thoughtfully at the child that has long since exhausted itself into a deep slumber. "Then you must know why I'm aligning myself with Cronus. You must see that in the grand scheme of things...this is what's right." The prophet says nothing for a long, suffocating moment. Then, when she speaks, her voice is defeated, lifeless. "Everyone in this war will have their own idea of justice and injustice, of good and bad, of [i]right and wrong[/i]," the prophet takes in a shallow, shaking breath. "But that isn't what will cause all the death and destruction; what causes it is not being able to understand another person's right and wrong. For being so set in your ways that you lack the empathy to do so. Stubbornness, ignorance, and pride are your downfalls." The god shakes his head, disgust written clearly on his face, swinging the door open. "There is only one right and wrong, prophet. Soon enough, all will bear witness to that truth." The prophet stares at the God with a veil of anger contorting her lovely features. "And I swear...one day all will bear witness to [i]your[/i] truth. That is a prophet's promise, my divine." The god storms out of the room, leaving the prophet alone as the first rays of sun break through the horizon. *page_break *goto cronos *label cronos [i][b]In another part of the world, a creature[/b][/i] that resides deep within the depths of the universe itself has opened its eyes. It feels the weight of every binding this world has to offer upon its back, pressing it down further into the endless abyss. It snarls at the wisps of smoke created by the god of the Underworld that attempt to lull him into a state of dreaming, the same state it had been trapped in for countless years. But the creature has not been asleep for a long, long time. The creature wills the elements around it; the ashes, dust, smoke and copper. They bend to its power, as old and ancient as time itself. The elements are not enough to free the creature from its prison, but they are enough to lighten the weight upon its back. The creature rises, its physical body a plume of dark smoke. Though it has no corporeal form...it still has its mind; and that mind can reach through every layer above this prison, past every barrier that stands in its way, weaving itself into the mind of the weak. [i]Persuading them. Twisting their will. Controlling them[/i]. *page_break The creature calls to the darkness, its voice trembling the world around it. [i]"Awaken."[/i] it commands the shadows. *finish *label priscon [i]Just being around him steals pieces of my soul away,[/i] the Great Prophet thinks. [i]Does he think the evil nature of his soul does not show?[/i] When the prophet closes her eyes, she feels the lure of Cronus, the nefarius Titan. She feels him reaching out to the weak minded, the greedy, the overly prideful. She sees the silly god accept Cronus's hand in glee, mistaking the titan's offer for the power he has always so desperately wanted. The greed in his heart and the madness in his mind make him all too willing to turn against his fellow Olympians. [i]It is no longer my problem,[/i] the prophet lies to herself, repeating the words like a mantra. [i]It is no longer my problem.[/i] Anyhow, soon, Athena—who is perhaps the prophet's last friend on this earth—will be here to take her away. They will travel to a land which Athena swore she would never be found, where she can live in peace for as long as she had left. She will retake her name old name, and forsake her title as the Great Prophet. She will pick up the pieces of her battered soul, and repent, patiently awaiting her inevitable death. She will try to live, once again... Priscilla Angelis gazes up once more at the sky, longing and stardust reflected in her eyes.