A drop here, a drop there (a one-shots/snippet book)

Chaos' Favored Prologue (Percy Jackson)

Numerous planets slowly spun on their axis, circling their respective stars in their own content speed. Rocks of differing sizes floated about, seemingly devoid of life or purpose, but continuing to exist nonetheless. Stars were born, they lived, and then they died in a brilliant explosion before collapsing into a hole of emptiness, sucking everything nearby into its void. The universe sang a discordant tune of life and death, creation and destruction. It was a song only heard by an audience of one.

This audience was a man, a lone man sitting in a room. There was nothing to look at in front of him, but behind his eyes were the universe itself as he watched it's unending beauty.

The massive doors in front of him slowly opened, it's weight easily handled by the newcomer as if it was nothing more than a feathery pillow. This caused the man to blink, and his focus pulled back from all that existed to what is in front of him.

The being that entered strode smoothly into the room, his black cape waving slightly behind him and pale blue eyes watching the man. He stopped in front of the throne in which the man sat and the man straightened.

"You called for me, my lord Chaos?" The other man spoke.

The man, Chaos, sighed irritably and glared. It was childish, and something you normally won't expect to see in a Lord. "I told you to not be so formal with me, General."

"This is a formal meeting, my lord, and etiquette dictates it shall be treated so." The general stated, a tone of scolding bleeding into an otherwise emotionless voice.

"So it won't be a formal meeting then!" Chaos declared, and with a nudge of his will, reality shifted almost eagerly to his whims.

And the throne room was gone. Instead, it was replaced by a homey living room, with wooden walls and comfy read couches. Pictures hung on the walls, and a fire place washed everything in a warm glow. The man now wore a simple t-shirt and pants. And sat in a beanbag. Sipping on orange juice.

The general's eye twitched, and didn't look down at the blue hoodie that replaced his armor. The comforting weight of his cloak was also missing, and he felt terribly naked without his weapons and hidden blades.

"My lord..." He grounded out.

Chaos raised an eyebrow and took a casual sip from his glass. "Oh, relax, son. I didn't call you for anything too formal. I just wanted to inform you of something." He looked at his drink contemplatively for a few moments, before changing it to strawberry, and taking a sip with a satisfied look on his face.

The general groaned irritably, stiff shoulders relaxing. His body fell limp on one of the couches, eyes glaring a bit mulishly. It's as if a different person had taken the place of the cold and formal General, now there was a disgruntled young man slumped on a couch, sulking.

Chaos chuckled, amused. "Do you need a drink? Maybe a slice of your favorite cake? And I feel like having a movie night, what do you say?"

His son eyed him, brows furrowed. While this type of behavior is not unusual, as Chaos always enjoyed having father-son bonding times every century or so, there was something different in this instance. It was too much, too out of nowhere.

The son thought while Chaos waited patiently for his answer with a smile.

"... You want to tell me something important." He concluded. "Something I will not like, and you're trying to soften me before then."

His statement was proven right, when the lord's smile dropped and a quiet sigh escaped his lips. "Yes, figured it out didn't you."

"Yes, well, maybe if you had waited for a century then I wouldn't have been suspicious." The general snarked, but it was without any real bite. "And father, really. What do you have against formality? You're the creator and lord of the universe, you should act like it. Someday, some king will take offence and wage war or something, and then we'll have to deal with lives lost, not to mention all the paperwork and the effect on your reputation–"

"Axiel," Chaos interrupted the often heard rant. "I'm...going to Sleep."

Axiel blinked, brows furrowing, but in his eyes was resigned acceptance. His father always did this every few thousand years or so, leaving the universe for him to care for. Training, for when Axiel takes his place. But this was not something unusual, it would not upset him to know, so why did his father look sad? Why did he look at him as if he'll never see him again?

Chaos smiled sadly at him, and just like that, dread filled his stomach.

"I have a mission for you, my son." He began, his face turning somber. He laced his fingers in front of him, elbows resting on the armrests of the now-armchair he sat in. Axiel straightened in reply, expression matching his father's as he stared back. "An eon from now, one of my blood will be born. A son of Poseidon. You will train him, treat him as one of your own, guide him. And once he is ready, he will take your place."

In the resulting silence, Axiel licked his suddenly dry lips, and he whispered what was left unspoken. "And I will take yours."

Fire merrily crackled away in the otherwise silent room. The non-answer was confirmation enough.

"Why?" The son's voice broke, and he tried again. "Why now? Can't you...stay a bit longer?"

Chaos' sad smile returned as he closed his eyes. In his mind's eye, he can see all the years he lived, since his Awakening of conscious thought. And before him, reality stretched forever continuing, and ending, and continuing again, in an endless cycle of existence and non-existence.

And he felt incredibly tired.

"I'm old, Axiel." The Creator said. "I am the first to exist when nothing else existed. I can see the future stretching before me, and I just...want to rest." He pushed himself up, the movement inhuman in it's smoothness, and Axiel hurriedly followed him, a habitable gesture of repect. "It will take a long time for me to disconnect from my creation."

Chaos stepped closer, gently cradling his son's cheek with a hand, and said, "So I will sleep. And I will fade." Looking at the already grieving pale eyes, and he felt a pang of regret. He hated causing Axiel pain, but it is time. The lord firmly gripped the back of Axiel's neck, and smiled encouragingly. "The universe is yours now, my son, and it is in good hands. I believe you will do what is best for it."

Axiel bowed his head, taking breaths to not let the tears fall. His voice was shaky, but determined. "I will not disappoint, father."

***************

My attempt at rewriting Chaos' Champion before I just couldn't continue writing anymore. Also I unpublished the whole book. *awkward cough*

So then I thought, might as well post it somewhere instead of just letting what I wrote sit and gather metaphorical dust right?