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slam him against the wall. My forearm holding him up, his toes just touching the ground.

He does not say a word or move his face. "You have to take him across the border, brother."

"I know." I let go, dropping him to the floor. "She will be up soon, and I will tell her then." The implications of just leaving now are unacceptable.

I outstretch my hand, there is no time for talk. Broderick accepts my help, and he rises.

"Once I am gone, you have to be ready to be Regent." I place my hand on his shoulder. "I will only be able to be back for a short time."

Once I'm back in our realm, I can't leave our son for too long. Time moves very differently there.

Broderick nods.

I know he doesn’t want the job. His been around me long enough to know all the glory comes with the weight of a million souls. But he needs to rule now.

Nothing left to say, I turn pulling out my phone as I walk into the war room. Tonight, is a night Adelaide will remember forever. The events at the Port docks taking over the news feeds, shock and worry for this usually peaceful city.

The information I want comes on my screen.

Regent Arcade, Grenfell street.

The closest Red Cross Donor Centre. The hospital will have too many innocent people. I just need blood and I need it now.

I prepare to use my speed, but before I do, my emotions cause an obvious error. I cannot be seen; I came here for a reason.

My bronzed helmet. The one I take with me, to wherever I call home. The full helmet covers my face, a small slit for my mouth and two carved holes for my eyes. It was the only way I could hide the lack of ageing after returning from the veil as a Spartan. Not just any Spartan. One of the many Kings.

It fits as usual.

I stop in the alley behind the Donor Centre, still unseen. My strength kicks the door down with ease, and I listen for the persistent humming of the refrigerators. I use it as my compass.

She needs to wake soon. The Oracle said as soon as he is born. But I didn't expect what I came back to. She was gone. Taken. The house in shambles.

If it weren't for Milan leaving her almost at my doorstep, I would have lost her and my son. Just like I lost my daughter. The price I pay for my absence.

I will take that, but must she, as well? How much can one person suffer and fight for a cause that isn't her doing? The anger boils wretched and deep with the injustice. My father, too, for so heartlessly telling me to discard her so easily. For the greater good.

I give my whole existence to serve the cause. I deal with greed and depravity. The ever-suffocating lust for power that turns men and women into worse monsters than the stories of the Hydra and the good old fashioned Cyclops I heard when I was a child.

Living the same cycle of reign and terror with moments of idyllic peace.

And here I am.

I rip the wall length door off the large refrigerator and throw it across the room. I know I have broken a lot of much needed equipment. I will make sure I fund another ten of them.

We found her blood type before I left, and I take three bags, flying at breakneck speeds back to the apartment. Not worried about detection, too fast to be seen.

Broderick is still outside the door.

"They haven't moved her yet," he says.

I give him the blood. "Give it to the nurses to get ready." Walking past him, I take my helmet off. Then open the door.

"Just in time," the doctor says. "She has slipped into a coma, but she's hanging in there."

Elita is limp but peaceful in sleep.

For my sanity, I avert my eyes. The sight burned into my soul. This I'm used to. I have been by her side waiting for her to recover already too many fucking times.

"Where is my son?" I ask the doctor.

The kid is gone.

"Waiting in her room, the incubator has just arrived downstairs and will be set up soon."

This has my attention. "The baby is premature and underdeveloped?"

This is it. The fruits of Gaia, just like the Oracle said. He needs to eat from the tree of life in our realm.

Therefore, I need to take him. For his safety but also so he can survive. The incubator will have to do for now until she wakes.

She has to wake.

"I have the blood."

"Good, now pick her up and let's get her set up for the transfusion." The doctor motions for me to make quick work of it. A nurse walks with me, pushing the machines and helping her to stay with us.

I lay her gently on the bed and cover her with the linen quilt.

I stand against the wall and watch, as the first bag of blood filters through.

Then another.

Still, she does not wake.

Hours pass, and she does not wake. I don't move. Not even to lay eyes on our son again.

We will have our time.

Elita will not have hers. For the oracle's words are as true as the night falls.

They both will die if, upon birth, he is not brought to where the fruits of Gaia herself are rife.

Our realm, where the Immortals are free to be out of the shadows.

The longer I stay, the less chance our son will survive. I know I'm already cutting it close. This is not what I had agreed to.

She will not forgive me this time.

I want to tell her the truth. To wait for her to wake, so she can understand. But after all this, how could she let him go? How could I ask that of her?

She lost a child, and she will have to say goodbye to another.

And live with that.

She can't.

Not the woman that I have come to respect and

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