“What. The. Hell?” Alec whispered.

“He knew me,” Simone babbled, “He knew what I was and he didn’t care. He didn’t even like me that much. His soul was sad and alone and tired but it had never learned how to die. He didn’t want to fuck me so much as he just wanted me to punch out his time card so he could leave.”

Alec swore for several minutes.

“I could have done that myself,” is what he finally said.

“He wouldn’t have let you. That’s not what his soul wanted.”

“And how the hell do you know that?”

“It spoke to me when I took it. His soul told me everything. Growing up on Mount Ida, the war with his father and the Titans. All the women. What it’s like to be the bright heart of the dark storm. Centuries of adulation. Ages and ages, worshipped and then forgotten, wasting away selling souvlaki and lamb out of a run-down hole-in-the-wall.”

“So you have his soul?” Alec asked. He was afraid of the answer.

“You should be,” is what Simone said, and became a god right before his eyes.