Guilt

As the first rays of sunlight illuminate the stone walls of the castle, I rise from my bed with a sense of dread in my stomach. Today is the day I confront Poseidon, and the bitter taste of anticipation weighs heavily on my tongue. The castle is eerily quiet, the only sound is the whisper of wind through the cracks in its walls.

I make my way to the throne room, where Poseidon has agreed to meet me this morning. The descent down the winding staircase feels like a slow march toward an uncertain fate. Each step echoes through the near-silent castle, amplifying the tension in my chest. Taking my seat on the imposing throne, my fingers brush against its cold obsidian surface as

I wait. The clock ticks loudly in the background, reminding me of the weight of this moment.