Isaac

They said that when you were on the brink of death, the past rushed in like a flood you couldn’t outrun. There was no warning, no choice. Only wave after wave, dragging memories you’d rather forget because they had no use anymore.

I was seven, sitting on the kitchen counter while Mom baked, and the warm, yeasty smell of brotchen filled the air. It was her favorite recipe, a soft Pennsylvania Dutch bread passed down from her mother and grandmother. She always made it on Sundays, saying it reminded her of home, of family, of something we had to keep alive.

The kitchen was a riot of color, just like Mom loved. Bright green cabinets clashed with mismatched utensils in every shade scattered across the countertops. Her wavy brown hair was in a messy bun, stray strands framing her face as she hummed to herself, washing dishes.

My feet dangled over the counter’s edge as I watched her hands move in the soapy water. I shifted my weight too far forward, almost tipping over. But before I could fall, her hand shot out and caught me by the arm, pulling me back without even looking. I stiffened, caught off guard by how quick she was. She didn’t notice me staring. I don’t think I even blinked. Then she turned to me, her smile bright, and said, “No matter what happens, baby, I’ll always be here.”

It was a lie.

Not one she meant to tell, but a lie all the same.

That was the first memory that hit me as everything started falling apart. That damn kitchen, her smile. Then, the scenes started flashing faster. The car crash. The silence. The dark, cold hole in my chest. And now was this. I was lying here, my body barely held together. It was stitched from a million broken pieces that didn’t quite fit anymore.

My limbs felt light, like they could float away, but they were too heavy to lift. I was sinking into something I couldn’t name. My body didn’t know what it wanted, and honestly, I got it. I’d spent half my life fighting just to keep going.

People love to promise forever. Yet, I wondered how much longer I had before falling apart.

Then, the warmth that had left my body returned, spreading slowly from my chest, like a blanket pulling me back from wherever I was drifting. I was so damn tired, and this warmth? It felt like comfort I didn’t know I needed. Maybe I didn’t deserve it, but I was too exhausted to push it away.

I leaned into it, letting it wrap around me. I couldn’t see what or who it was, but I didn’t need to. I knew.

“Josh…” I whispered.

That warmth, it was him. His presence, steady and real in a world that had come unglued. It was the only thing keeping me from dissolving into whatever void was wrenching at the fringes of my mind.

“Josh…” I whispered again, barely managing to find my voice. His chest was solid against me, warm enough to make the cold inside me feel a little less crushing.

“I’m here,” Josh murmured, his breath hot against my neck. “You keep saying my name, but I’m here.”

My vision cleared. The blinding lights softened as the worst of the storm passed. His face was inches from mine, lips grazing my skin, his breath making me shiver.

Josh tugged me closer, and I could feel a strange current between us. Why did I feel it so clearly? His fear, his desperation, his relief. It wasn’t just my panic swirling anymore—it was his, too. But how?

My hand found his back, a clumsy attempt at comfort.

“It’s okay…” I tried to murmur, but my voice sounded distant, as if it were coming through the fog. I wasn’t even sure who I was trying to convince—me or him. Maybe both of us. “I’m still here.”

Josh pulled back just enough for me to see him. His hands slid to either side of my face, rough but careful, like he was afraid I might shatter under his touch. For some reason, I didn’t push him away. I should’ve.

Then again, he moved just enough to meet my eyes, his fingers slipping under my chin, holding me gently, trying to keep me from looking away.

I didn’t want to move.

I didn’t want to breathe.

Josh’s lips parted, his gaze dropping, unsure what to do next. His eyes had gone dark, the color barely visible. His hair was slick with sweat, and his whole body trembled.

He looked… hurt.

“I thought…” His grip faltered before he steadied himself, thumb tilting my chin a little more, guiding my gaze back to his. “I thought I lost you.”

My mind was a jumbled mess, my thoughts scattered and incoherent. I wanted to say something, but instead, my lips parted, too, and I took a shallow breath. I felt his breath catch, and my pulse raced in response.

Josh’s gaze flicked down to my mouth, and somehow I knew what he wanted. He leaned in, giving me time to back away. But I didn’t. I tilted my head up, meeting his eyes, and his lips met mine—soft at first, tentative, as if we were testing the boundaries of something we’d never dared cross.

Josh’s lips were warm, and his taste was faint, like the memory of sweat after a summer run mixed with coffee or something darker. For a moment, it felt like coming home—like all the broken pieces of me could somehow fit together again if I just stayed here with him. It was as if I’d known it, and the taste had lived in my mind for years.

Kissing him back, my body moved on its own, pushing away the truth I didn’t want to face.

His tongue brushed my lips, seeking permission, and I gave in without hesitation. The salt of his fear mingled with the sweetness of relief, and it only made me crave more.

Josh’s hands cupped my face, and I threaded my fingers along the nape of his neck, pulling him closer until there was nothing between us. His chest pressed firm against mine, his body heat bleeding into me, sinking deeper, until I arched my back, the warmth spreading, reaching lower, down to my dick. There was a hunger building inside me, something that had always been there, waiting for this.

I moaned into his mouth, unable to hold back the surge of desire that overwhelmed me. Josh matched my urgency, his tongue exploring every crevice, igniting a fire I hadn’t known was there.

It was hard to believe—Josh and me, finally breaking that wall I thought untouchable.

When we broke away, gasping for air, his eyes caught mine… but they weren’t his anymore. The blue had vanished, replaced by an endless abyss. Blinking hard, I hoped it was just the aftershock of everything I’d been through.

But it wasn’t just his eyes. Dark veins threaded his skin. He was too calm. I could feel his fear, yes, but he wasn’t breaking apart like I was. Josh was… unflinching.

Black.

Thump. Thump.

A muted pulse echoed in my head, steady and rhythmic, like a heartbeat. My breath hitched as a flash of Aldragoth’s twisted form flickered through my mind, passing like a shadow.

Another blink. When I looked back this time, his eyes were clear—blue again, as if nothing had happened. His skin was smooth, and the veins were gone. I tried to shake off the creeping sense of wrongness. It must have been imagined—just the dizziness and fog clouding my mind, making me see things that weren’t there.

But something else was off.

Glancing around, I noticed the space had darkened, as if a thick mist had seeped into the room. Panic clawed at my chest as the room’s boundaries blurred, consumed by inky shadows. I blinked, half-expecting the darkness to vanish.

It didn’t.

Goosebumps prickled my skin, rising from my neck all the way down to the base of my spine. I looked back at Josh, searching for answers, but found none. He was still close, holding me as if nothing had changed. But something had.

Then I realized—Josh was holding my hands. When had that happened?

His grip was gentle, but the contact between us sent a wave of guilt crashing over me, unexpected. This wasn’t right. Whatever this was, it was a rush, a moment born out of desperation and panic. The weight of it pressed in my chest, heavy and painful, because I knew—deep down—it was because I was falling apart.

Chronos, that freaking kid, had warned me. The human body couldn’t handle this kind of power, and I was breaking, about to explode.

And then… something was being drawn out of me. It wasn’t painful but unsettling. Something told me it was because of Josh.

I jerked my hands back and retreated from him as fast as I could. Rising too quickly made my head spin, and I stumbled, struggling to stay on my feet.

“Shit,” I muttered, the room tilting sideways as the dizziness slammed into me like a brick. My knees buckled, and I swayed, barely catching myself. I was so fucking tired of feeling dizzy all the time, of not knowing which way was up anymore.

Josh didn’t waste a second. His arm hooked around my waist, pulling me in like I weighed nothing. He was huge, thick in a way that didn’t make sense, with solid muscle everywhere. Every one of his abs pressed against me, hard as stone..

My feet barely grazed the floor, bringing us so close our breaths mingled.

I scowled, trying to ignore the heat between us—and failing. The worst part? Josh was definitely hard too. Of course. Just what I needed right now, in the middle of all this.

“So, what? You think because I kissed you, you get to ignore my personal space?”

Josh’s eyes flashed with something—anger, frustration, maybe both. “If I let go, you’ll walk away again. Ignoring everything I need to say. I’m tired of it. I’m tired of every time I try to reach you, you shut me out. I’m trying, Isaac. Why won’t you let me?”

Ha. As if he didn’t already know the answer.

I glared at him, though my chest was heaving for a completely different reason now. “You have no right to say anything.”

“I fucking apologized,” Josh shot back. “I know it’s not enough. I know I hurt you. And I’ll keep apologizing if that’s what it takes. Forever, if I need to.”

“We’re nothing, Josh. I’m grateful for what you’ve done, but that kiss? It was just a moment—because the world’s ending.” I pressed my hands against his chest, weakly trying to create space between us.“Thank you for saving me—I don’t know what you did, but it saved me. Like you always do.”

Josh didn’t let go. His jaw clenched as he stared down at me, his grip firm but not painful.

“Did you really think it was because you were…dying?” he said incredulously.

“Friends don’t kiss.”

Delusional, that’s what he was.

I shoved him harder than I meant to, something feral in the way I moved. Josh stumbled back, eyes wide in surprise, before he let go and stepped away. “And? What else could it be?” I snapped, biting my lip, the heat between us lingering like an unwelcome guest. Yet, the walls were going up again. “I need a shower. I can’t keep wasting time. I don’t know… Will—something’s going to happen to him, I know it. I need to save him.” My voice shook as I ran a hand through my hair, pacing the small space. “I saw someone carrying him. I don’t even know if it was real, but I need to save him.”

Josh’s confusion was obvious. “What are you talking about? Did you—were you able to speak to him again?”

“No.” I lowered my gaze. “Someone showed me. I got knocked out in the airport for a few seconds, and I had this… dream. A kid showed me. I think he’s a god too—he called himself Chronos.”

Josh’s face went pale, his expression frozen in shock. He stared at me like I’d just told him the world was about to end—which ironically was. “Impossible,” he finally said.