CHAPTER 232: CHAPTER 232: THE ROOFTOP MEETING

The morning air was clear and bright, the kind of early sunlight that made glass gleam and coffee smell stronger. The city stretched below in clean lines of silver and green, a skyline that had long since learned to live with its gods.

Elias sat at his usual corner table on the rooftop café, laptop open, cup of warm latte cooling beside it. He wasn’t working. The screen was blank. He was stalling.

The hum of ether conduits was faint even up here, a low thrum beneath the city’s pulse, but he could feel it. Somewhere far below, Victor was already preparing for their "diplomatic honeymoon," which meant mobilizing half the security division, recalibrating an ocean satellite array, and probably terrifying Poseidon’s envoys just by existing.

Elias sighed and rubbed at his temple. "He’s going to enjoy this too much."

"You mean the part where you willingly called it a honeymoon?"

Elias didn’t flinch. He didn’t have to look up to recognize the dry amusement in Connor Woods’s voice.

The man approached with the kind of casual confidence that came from knowing exactly how the world saw him, tall, broad-shouldered, sharply dressed in a dark suit that probably cost more than Elias’s entire lab budget from the Uni, and yet somehow still managing to look approachable. His black hair was tousled by the wind, and his green eyes carried the kind of intelligence that always seemed half a step ahead.

Elias smiled faintly. "You’re late."

Connor pulled out the chair across from him and sat. "You said ten-ish. I’m within the margin of ’ish.’"

"That’s not a unit of time."

"For scientists, it is."

Elias’s lips twitched despite himself. "I see you’ve been hanging around Victor too long."

"Please," Connor said, waving off the idea with an easy grin. "One Victor in my life is already above the legal limit."

The humor was effortless, usually defusing tension before Elias could start building it again. Still, today, the weight of what he had to ask sat heavy in the air between them.

Connor leaned back in his chair, studying him with the kind of quiet intuition that came from being both too observant and too patient. "You didn’t call me up here to talk about Victor’s vacation plans."

Elias sighed, staring into his coffee. "Unfortunately, no."

"Then it’s about Uno," Connor said.

Elias looked up sharply. "You knew?"

Connor smiled, not the charming, easy one he used for interviews and board meetings, but the tired, knowing one that came from living too close to gods for too long. "He’s been hovering at the edge of my dreams for weeks. Quiet, but there. It’s hard to forget what divinity feels like, even when you don’t want to remember it."

Elias leaned forward slightly. "He wants to see you."

Connor didn’t move, but something in his expression changed, a flicker of something caught between anger and exhaustion. "Of course he does."

"I told him it was your choice," Elias said quickly. "You don’t have to see him. I just... thought you should know he asked."

Connor exhaled, long and steady, then reached for his cup when the waiter brought his usual order without asking. "Black, two sugars," he said automatically, then looked back at Elias. "You’re the only one who could make me listen to that sentence and not immediately leave."

"That’s because I’m charming," Elias said dryly.

"That’s because you’re honest," Connor corrected.

For a moment, the rooftop fell quiet except for the faint hum of morning traffic and the sound of cups settling against saucers.

Elias hesitated, then said softly, "He didn’t mean to hurt you."

Connor’s jaw tightened. "Intent doesn’t erase consequence."

"I know," Elias said. "But if you don’t talk to him, he’ll never stop trying to fix what can’t be fixed. He’ll keep breaking things in the process. You’re the only one who can stop that cycle."

Connor looked at him for a long moment. "You always did know how to make responsibility sound like compassion."

"It’s a skill," Elias said. "Also part of my job description."

A faint smile tugged at the corner of Connor’s mouth. "At least he is respecting my boundaries... I imagined that he would rewrite me just to obtain what he wanted."

Elias tilted his head slightly, studying him. "He thought about it," he admitted, because there was no point lying to a man who’d already stared divinity in the face and walked away. "But he didn’t. That’s what’s breaking him now."

Connor huffed a quiet laugh, humorless but not cruel. "Breaking him," he repeated, as if testing the words. "A god brought to his knees by regret. Poetic. I’d appreciate it more if I weren’t the subject matter."

"You’re not," Elias said gently. "You’re the consequence."

That earned him a sharp but not angry look. Connor’s eyes caught the light, the green brightening as he leaned back in his chair. "He played with your family. Jonathan is on the loose and your mother and sister are dead."

"I’ve never liked them. Honestly, they treat me like a pet on their best days and disowned me without anything in high school. They played with divine power; Uno was having fun watching them."

"You are cold about it."

Elias shrugged. "They wanted to sacrifice me like Theobald and Jonathan did to Anna and her unborn child. Excuse me for being relieved that I am not a victim of their greed."

Connor’s expression softened, though the edge of disbelief remained. "You say that like you’ve made peace with it."

"I have," Elias said simply. "The dead don’t scare me. The living do."

That quiet admission hung between them, heavier than the city noise rising from below. Connor didn’t interrupt, though the muscle in his jaw tightened, not from judgment, but empathy.

Elias’s gaze turned distant for a moment, his tone softening just enough to betray that the calm was practiced, not effortless. "They had a choice, Connor. Every single one of them. And every one of them looked at divinity and thought, I can profit from this." His fingers tapped once against the coffee cup. "They didn’t think of consequences. They never did. And when Uno gave them an opening..."

"They took it," Connor finished quietly.

Elias nodded. "Because he made it easy. Because curiosity without empathy looks a lot like cruelty."

Connor exhaled slowly, leaning back, green eyes narrowing just slightly. "You really don’t pull punches when you talk about gods, do you?"

"Someone has to remind them they’re not as different from us as they think," Elias said, voice dry again. "They just have better lighting."

That earned him a low, genuine laugh, which helped to break the tension for a moment. "I forgot how much I missed talking to you," Connor said.

"Because I’m brutally honest?"

"Because you’re the only person I know who makes divine politics sound like a research paper," Connor replied, smirking faintly. "And because you don’t pity me."

Elias gave a small shrug. "You don’t need pity. You need perspective."

Connor tilted his head, studying him. "And what’s yours?"

Elias paused, fingers sliding over the tablet’s edge as if grounding himself. "That Uno’s mistake doesn’t erase what you were before him. You were brilliant, reckless, and human, and somehow, you stayed that way even after divinity touched you. You are better than you think."

Connor’s eyes softened at that, though his tone stayed steady. "You sound like Victor when you say things like that."

Elias’s mouth quirked. "Don’t insult me."

That drew another small laugh.

But when it faded, Connor’s expression grew more serious, the humor gone. "You know, part of me still wonders if Uno did it on purpose, if he wanted to see what would happen when someone loved him enough to leave."

Elias glanced up, meeting his gaze without hesitation. "He didn’t. He’s not that self-aware. But he’s getting there. Slowly. Painfully. You’re the first variable he couldn’t predict."

Connor hummed quietly. "A god learning about unpredictability. I suppose that’s fitting." He looked down at his coffee, swirling what was left in the cup. "Alright," he said finally. "I’ll meet him. Tomorrow. But if he starts with any divine dramatics, I’m leaving."

"Sure."