Chapter 54: Guilt

Sometimes blood alone does not define a family.
Shared roots can become chains, and the bonds that once were love turn into manacles of memory, resentment, and betrayal. In the history of gods, there is no redemption without scars. There is no truth without pain.

Zef understood that — not as a warrior, not as a prince, but as a forgotten son, as a wound that never closed. The guilt wasn’t just one person’s fault, and that made it worse. When everyone is guilty, who deserves the punishment?

Triton, tearful, begged his father for help like a child lost amid a field of ruins. And Poseidon, the eternal tyrant disguised as a martyr, no longer knew whether his hatred was aimed at the son who disobeyed him… or at the reflection that haunted his nights.

The brothers watched in silence, unsure whether to follow one or the other. Because the bitter truth was this: there were no heroes left in that hall. Only the ruined remnants of men who once tried to save the world… and ended up destroying one another.

And then, amid smoke, dust, and the echoes of accusations, he arrived.

Zef brought no justice. He brought no peace. He brought judgment. He had heard everything. But he didn’t need proof. His soul, corroded by years of pain, had already passed sentence. His sword would be the only witness. And his words, the echo of all the children who were never heard:

—I hate you both.

Because when guilt is shared equally, the only thing left is to choose who falls first.

——————————————————————————————————————————

“Stop inventing illusions to justify your actions,” Poseidon snapped, his voice trembling somewhere between contained fury and something deeper… guilt?

Diáprepes ground his teeth, unwilling to intervene. Who was telling the truth? he wondered. Or were both of them lying?

Anferes, beside him, couldn’t shake an image from his mind: his mother, Queen Clito, collapsing on the floor with open eyes and no voice. Could someone really…?

—I won’t let you hurt my family any more, Triton roared, eyes bloodshot and overflowing with energy—. Here and now… I will finish you.

—I doubt you’re very good at keeping promises, Poseidon replied, his voice laced with contempt—. Atlas and Autóctono died by your hands. Was that an accident too?

—I told you! I didn’t do any of that! Triton shouted, and suddenly his voice broke—. Help… please!

Silence fell over the palace.

All the brothers stared, stunned, at the broken prince before them — the same one who had pushed them to the brink of the abyss.

—What the hell do you intend…? Poseidon said, frowning.

—Help me, father… please.

For a moment, his voice was no longer that of a warrior. It was that of a lost child, pleading for an embrace that never came.

Poseidon looked at him, eyes fixed as memories battered his mind. Who is this before me? he thought. The murderer… or the son I failed to care for?

—And now what? Gadiro whispered, swallowing—. Are we supposed to choose between the monster we already know… and the one that’s just beginning to show?

The palace door creaked.

A dry crash marked the end of doubt.

Everyone turned at once.

—It can’t be… Poseidon and Triton murmured simultaneously.

There stood Zef. At the entrance. Ice in his gaze, fists clenched, an aura of darkness that seemed to swallow the light.

—Little brother… Triton whispered.

—You… Poseidon growled.

—Both of you. Shut up, Zef ordered in a steady voice — not raised, but heavier than any shout.

Evemo held his breath. He felt everything… and his aura did not lie. Only hatred filled that soul.

—Brother, I only want—…

A clean cut crossed Triton’s cheek.

—I told you to shut up, Zef spat, his sword still humming with energy.

Triton… smiled.

—I’ve always said it, Zef continued. My goal was never to be strong. I don’t want titles or glory. I only wanted to kill you, Poseidon. I don’t care how.

—Then join me, Triton intervened. We can finish him together. And then… be a family again.

—Family? Poseidon interrupted sarcastically—. Perfect. Two cowards, two traitors, two children who couldn’t bear reality. They won’t even be a challenge.

—Bastard… Zef spat. Since I was a kid you tried to harden me, shape me like a statue to show off to your friends. What did you care more about? My strength… or that no one noticed your weakness? You sacrificed everything — even your wife — to make me strong. But you failed, old man. Because now… I only hate the gods. And when I have the power, I will kill them all.

—You’re just another failure, Poseidon said without hesitation. You’re not even better than Triton. Every sacrifice I made… was useless.

The answer was a brutal slash straight to the stomach.

Poseidon staggered back, gasping as blood fell like an offering to the floor.

And before the air could settle, Zef vanished and reappeared beneath Triton. Another identical cut.

Both men dropped to their knees. Bleeding. Staring at the boy they had both despised.

—I don’t care which of you was the guilty one. Because I hate you both. That’s why… I’m going to kill you both.

Triton and Poseidon thought the same thing:

Damn him…

Zef raised his sword, surrounded by an energy that roared like a sleeping god.

—Good luck getting out of here. Let’s see which of you survives.

Then he turned to the group of brothers.

—You lot, out of here. Take the bodies. There is nothing left for you here.

—Yes, Diáprepes answered, voice tight.

Triton lunged to stop them, but Zef blocked his way.

—Quick! he shouted without taking his eyes off the elder—. And you… don’t move, bastard.

Triton hesitated. He had the strength to defeat Zef. But not Zef and Poseidon at the same time. And Poseidon… was still standing.

Better to wait. For now.

One by one, the brothers left.

Zef watched them disappear through the doorway, then turned and drove his sword into the floor with force.

A crack raced across the hall like lightning.

—See you, he said without looking back.

A pillar fell right behind him, blocking the only exit.

Poseidon gritted his teeth.

—Damn you.

And then Atlantis trembled.

As if the sea itself were weeping for the sins of its king.

Zef left the palace with steady steps but a trembling soul. At his side, his brothers followed in silence, carrying on their shoulders more than bodies: the weight of a broken history.
Before them, the city lay in ruin and ash.
Triton’s army was scattered, unconscious or defeated, beneath the feet of two figures who still stood: Ares, spear pointed toward the horizon; Yohei, arms crossed, still crackling with traces of electricity.

—You’re late, Zef, —Yohei said without turning.
Ares lowered his spear slightly when he saw the group accompanying him.
—What are they doing here? —he asked, curt.
—I brought them… —Zef replied, lowering his gaze—. I’m sorry.

Ares studied them one by one.
—Do you know you will also be judged like Triton?
—Yes, —Diáprepes answered, resolute—. And we accept paying for all the harm we did to our people.

Zef took a few steps, then stopped when he noticed Yohei had fallen silent. Yohei’s eyes were fixed on Atlas’s body a few meters away, robe torn and eyes closed.
—Master… —Yohei whispered, his voice empty, as if coming from another life.

Diáprepes approached slowly.
—I… I must apologize. I couldn’t protect any of my brothers. Fear took hold of me, and… I didn’t even lift a finger.
Yohei didn’t look at him. His voice was almost a sigh.
—You don’t have to apologize to me… but to them.

Zef drew a deep breath and looked back at the palace. Blood still boiled inside him. He took a step forward.
—Where do you think you’re going? —Yohei asked.
—To finish what I started.
—Stop thinking like a child, idiot, —Yohei spat without beating around the bush.
—Shut up! —Zef roared—. You don’t know what I’ve suffered because of those two!
—Maybe not, —Yohei admitted, finally turning to face him—. But I know you’re not like them.

Zef stopped. For the first time in a long while, someone didn’t see him as a shadow, a weapon, or an heir. Just… him.
—I understand your hatred made you strong. But… will you let it consume you? —Yohei asked, stepping toward him—. Now you have people who believe in you. Who are willing to follow you. People who love you. The Atlanteans need you, Zef. Not to kill for them. But to live for them.

Diáprepes nodded.
—He’s right. I don’t know if my brothers can trust you today… but what you did in there proved you’re better than Poseidon and Triton. Here and now, I give you my loyalty. For our mother… and for those who are no longer with us.

—But… I… I can’t leave it like this. I need revenge, —Zef murmured, trembling.
—Stop, child.

The voice pierced him like an invisible spear. Zef froze.
—M-mother…?

From the air heavy with energy, a translucent silhouette emerged. The ethereal figure of Clito, wrapped in a soft, serene light, approached him.
—You did your best, —she whispered—. Please, don’t let the thirst for vengeance lead you down a dark path.
—But… they hurt you…
—I sacrificed myself so you would be happy. So you would care for one another, support each other. That was my only dream. Please… fulfill it, even though I am no longer here.

Zef fell to his knees. His sword slipped from his hand and stuck into the ground. The spirit of Clito embraced him. With his eyes closed, Zef broke into tears.
—I love you, my son.

Ares watched in silence, brow furrowed.
—What the hell just happened…? —he murmured, bewildered.
Yohei, with a half-smile, replied:
—Who knows… But I think our work here is done.

Meanwhile, Atlantis crumbled. The sea reclaimed it in punishment and mourning.

Far from there, deep in an underwater cavern, a group of strangers watched a room filled with ancient, dangerously gleaming artifacts.
—Jackpot, —one of them muttered with a crooked smile.

Shadows hid the rest of his face… but not his ambition.