Hale-Ferguson Residence
Later that evening, Ambrose had just finished putting Orion to bed. The boy insisted on a bedtime story and only closed his eyes after his father joined him in bed.
But Ambrose couldn't catch even a wink of sleep.
His mind kept replaying what Gabriel told him earlier.
Telling the Pantheon the truth.
The whole truth.
That the six-year-old boy who popped up in his life one day was actually his biological son from an alternate timeline. And that his imagination can shape reality.
Oh, and that he was the one behind the zombie apocalypse that nearly wiped out civilization one random Tuesday.
And of course, the Archons wanted him as a vessel.
"Jesus." He rubbed his forehead, keeping his voice quiet. His other hand stayed on Orion's hair, brushing gently. "I just… can't. The moment I tell them that everything changes."
Allies or not, the Pantheon were pragmatic.
