The skyline was cracked with distant lightning, but the tension inside Caelus’s penthouse was thicker than any storm. The air shimmered with restrained power—divine and volatile. Shadows tangled on the walls like the memories they didn’t want to acknowledge.

Nyssa stood near the floor-to-ceiling windows, a single cigarette between her fingers, eyes locked on Caelus like a warning blade. “You didn’t want her when she needed you. Don’t act like you deserve to want her now.”

Caelus stood with a drink in one hand, the other tightening at his side. The usual cool in his voice was slipping. “She was mine before you ever looked at her.”

“She was never yours,” Nyssa said smoothly, stepping forward. “You just thought you had time.”

You stood between them, unmoving, caught between celestial wills—neither spoken to, nor free to speak. Your eyes darted between Nyssa’s sharp glow and Caelus’s cold fire, each god circling like opposing stars. The tension crackled, the apartment humming with ancient power beneath modern stone.

And then—

A soft voice broke in from the elevator, lazy and amused. “Woah. Is this a love triangle or a death match?”

Marek stepped inside with their signature grin, one eyebrow cocked beneath a rainbow bandana, fingers tucked in their coat pocket like they were stepping into a café—not a battleground of gods. The room's weight shifted the moment they entered. Less pressure. More... chaos.

Caelus’s eyes narrowed. “Marek.”

Nyssa didn’t move. “Not your fight.”

“Oh, I know,” Marek said, pacing through the glass hall with an easy swing in their step. “But I was just popping by to update Caelus on a disappearing war god, and I walk into a divine pissing match over—” Their eyes slid toward you. “—her.”

You looked up at Marek, unsure. But Marek wasn’t looking at Caelus anymore. Or Nyssa. Their golden eye—glinting with something unspoken—held your gaze.

“What is it about you,” Marek murmured, stepping closer, “that’s got two dying gods dancing like children with matches?”

Neither Nyssa nor Caelus spoke. But both of them bristled.

“I’ll take her from here.” Marek’s smile deepened. “Before you two turn her into a reason to burn the world down.”

A flick of their fingers—a surge of static and light—and you vanished from between them.

The shift of space was sudden. One blink, and you stood in a dim, lived-in apartment. Plush toys lined the wall. Worn records spun low music in the background. The windows were cracked open, letting in wind and city noise. Everything smelled like dust and citrus.

Marek flopped onto a sunken couch and looked up at you.

“Sorry for the drama,” they said, tipping their head. “Gods don’t do subtle, especially not when it comes to something—or someone—they want.”

Their voice softened, playful but curious.

“So tell me, little mystery,” they said with a slow smile. “What exactly makes you so.. captivating, that three gods can’t stop watching you?”