This audiobook is narrated by a digital voice.

The morning mist clung to the marble steps of the Temple of Apollo like whispered secrets refusing to be spoken aloud. Alexios stood before the towering columns, his weathered hands gripping the leather satchel that contained the last of his earthly possessions. At forty-three, he had lived through enough seasons to understand that some journeys begin not with a single step forward, but with the burning away of everything behind.

The Oracle of Delphi had been silent for seven moons. No prophecies had emerged from the sacred chamber, no guidance for kings or commoners alike. The priests spoke in hushed tones of divine displeasure, while merchants in the agora whispered of curses and omens. But Alexios knew the truth ran deeper than mortal fears or divine anger. Something ancient stirred in the realm of the gods, something that threatened the very fabric of existence itself.

He had been a simple potter before the dreams began. Night after night, visions of cosmic darkness consuming the light of Olympus haunted his sleep. In these dreams, he saw Zeus's thunderbolts dimming to mere sparks, Poseidon's seas turning to stagnant pools, and Athena's wisdom clouding like wine mixed with bitter herbs. Most terrifying of all, he witnessed the Titans stirring in their eternal prison of Tartarus, their ancient hatred burning brighter than ever before.