I Was Hoping She Would Notice but again Now When She Did... Im Tired

“What do you mean…?” Avey’s voice cracked, barely a whisper as a cold shiver ran through her spine. Her body stiffened, heart hammering against her chest. Max’s words… they weren’t just words. They hit. Like a dagger wrapped in truth.

“Avey…” Max’s gaze lowered, shadows dancing over his expression. His voice carried a weight a heaviness that only bad news ever wore. “…if Lucian doesn’t die, the world will.”

“What?!” she snapped, voice rising with disbelief and desperation. “What the hell are you saying? What kind of twisted logic is that?!”

Max didn’t flinch. He looked straight at her, not as a god, not as an old friend, but as someone who knew what was coming and hated it.

“I’m saying this is the choice.” His voice was colder now. “Your parents. Your friends. Every innocent soul kids who’ve never even had heard Lucian name… they all will die.”

Avey staggered back like she’d been slapped.

“No… no, that’s not true. That’s bullshit!” she barked, shaking her head violently. Her hands trembled at her sides. “You’re just trying to manipulate me. That’s what this is. Lies!”

But the more she said it, the more it sounded like a lie to herself.

Max didn’t respond. He didn’t have to. He just stood there, eyes heavy with truth.

Avey took another step back. Her legs felt like lead, her throat tight with panic. Every breath was getting harder to take. Why wasn’t he denying it? Why wasn’t he saying what she wanna hear… something like i was joking…it was a test, or even just wanted to prank her?

but no nothing like that was happening.

And then it hit her.

Max was a god.

A literal god.

Why would he need to lie?

And he cared about Lucian.

Then why was he saying this?

The deeper she thought, the more the fear grew. Gnawing at her like some unseen beast, biting down hard on her resolve.

Tears prickled at the edges of her vision.

And still… Max said nothing.

And that silence screamed louder than any answer ever could.

The room fell into an eerie silence. Neither of them spoke. They just sat there staring at each other, unmoving.

Avey didn’t understand. She couldn’t understand. Why would Max say something so cruel? There had to be a reason. There must be. And that uncertainty gnawed at her, a desperation bubbling just beneath the surface. Were the gods really this sadistic? Was this their twisted game first making her despise Lucian, then manipulating her into falling for someone like Victor without even realizing it… and now this?

Just what the hell did they want from her?

Finally, Avey inhaled sharply, steadying herself, trying to smother the fire rising in her chest. She broke the silence.

“Tell me what happened,” she asked, voice cold, expression colder. Her eyes didn’t flinch they locked onto Max like daggers.

“Arthur… he’s dead,” Max replied flatly, his face void of all emotion.

It was jarring. His demeanor kept shifting laughing manically one moment, a stone wall the next. It was unsettling. But Avey wasn’t focused on that. Her mind was racing elsewhere.

Arthur… dead?

Her brows furrowed. The news didn’t exactly shock her. She had no meaningful bond with Arthur, no memories that would sting. But still… she frowned hard, like trying to force the puzzle pieces into place.

She didn’t ask how or when, or even if it was true. Her focus was narrowing in on something else entirely.

“Let’s say Arthur really is dead why does that mean I have to kill Lucian?” she asked instinctively, frustration bubbling to the surface. But mid-sentence, her eyes widened something clicked in her head.

Max stared silently at her. “Like I said before… Victor and Arthur can’t be killed. Not normally. The world’s will protects them. If one dies, the balance starts to fracture. And”

“But didn’t you say they can’t be killed unless it’s by Victor himself?” Avey interrupted sharply, eyes narrowing. “Now you’re saying Arthur’s dead? That’s not what you said before. Which is it, Max?”

He didn’t flinch. “That’s true but I didn’t tell you everything,” Max said quietly, finally lifting his eyes to hers. “There is one way. Only one. If someone retrieves the bones of Arthur’s mother and forges a dagger from them… that dagger can kill him even the people protected by world will itself.”

Avey’s expression twisted in disbelief, her voice rising. “And now you’re telling me the Queen’s dead too? Who do you think you’re lying to?”

She wasn’t just questioning him anymore she was tearing his words apart, grasping at anything to expose a crack.

“Even if the Prince died, and the Queen somehow hid it there is no way the Queen’s death could be kept secret. You’re lying, Max,” she snapped, her voice raw with frustration. “Just admit it.”

“I’m not lying, try to understand it, girl… I really am not,” Max said, his voice tired, yet anchored in truth. “And no, why should the Queen die? She was never Arthur’s real mother. Someone dug up the grave of Arthur’s true mother, took her bones.” His voice dropped lower, flat, almost too calm for the horror in his words.

Avey recoiled, her face twisting into something between nausea and disbelief. “That’s disgusting. Who would do that?” she whispered, a cold shiver crawling down her spine like insects under her skin.

Max didn’t respond. His silence was louder than any answer.

“Whatever- whether he died or not…no one is touching my Lucian!” Avey’s voice rose, fierce, burning. “I have my whole life left to live beside him. We still have so much… and I won’t let anyone take that from me!” Her eyes flared, sharp and defiant, a fire in her soul that refused to flicker out.

Max just shook his head, exhaling a quiet, bitter breath. “It’s about balance, girl… I’ve already told you.” Then softer, heavier: “Why are you trying to reject reality?”

She didn’t answer, but her silence wasn’t quiet it was freezing.

Max sighed. He turned his face away. “Leave it. You won’t understand… not unless you see it yourself.”

Avey’s gaze hardened. Cold. Unforgiving. But beneath it confusion, fear, and the dread of truth inching closer.

Max raised his small hand, his arm sluggish with exhaustion as he sat slumped on the edge of the bed. He flicked his fingers in the air.

A faint shimmer pulsed and then there it was. A small, translucent screen appeared in the air above them, floating like a ghost.

“This is what happens… when balance is broken,” he said softly.

Avey took two steps back, startled. Her breath caught in her throat at the sheer, impossible beauty of the magic. But the awe didn’t last.

Because then she saw it.

The screen shifted rapidly images and clips flashing like a broken dream. People running, screaming, bleeding. Streets cracked. Homes collapsed like paper. Children covered in blood, lifeless. Parents clawing at rubble. A woman’s cries drowned by a wave that smashed into a coast.

A city swallowed by lava, its skyline melted like wax under the fury of a sudden volcano.

Then a new place. A marketplace. Then gone.

A school. Then gone. Dead. Burned. Flooded. Crushed. And then again. And again. And again.

“What is this?” Avey asked, her voice cracking. Her eyes stayed glued to the screen even though every fiber in her body screamed to look away.

Tears welled. She couldn’t blink. Couldn’t breathe.

“This” Max looked at her, his mismatched eyes dull with sorrow, “is the backlash. The world unraveling. This is what happens when Arthur is killed… and Lucian still lives.”

He didn’t need to say more.

The screen said it all.

And Avey couldn’t unsee it now even if she wanted to.

“Just why Lucian again?!” Avey screamed, her voice cracking under the weight of everything she’d held back. Her hands balled into fists at her sides. “Why him? Why always him?!”

She staggered forward, her eyes burning with frustration. “Do you hate him or what?! Aren’t you supposed to be a god?! Where is that Diablo woman now?! Didn’t she say anything was possible?! What the hell is this?! WHAT?!”

She lost control. Her scream echoed across the room like glass shattering.

But Max didn’t flinch. He didn’t even lift his gaze. His silence was colder than rejection.

“Do I hate him?” he finally whispered, eyes low, voice hollow. “No… the world does.”

The words hit harder than a slap.

Avey stood frozen. Her body trembling. Her breath uneven. Her lips parted in disbelief.

“…Nothing can be done,” Max added, and the words felt final. Brutal.

“No,” she gasped, her voice cracking into a sob. “There must be some way. Right? Any way! Please I beg you!” Her legs gave in. She collapsed forward, hitting the ground on her knees like a broken prayer.

“I’ll do anything! Just don’t give him this fate… Don’t let him die!” Tears streamed down her cheeks. Her voice was wrecked, no longer composed, no longer proud. “What if you take me instead? Kill me in his place yes… yes, I’ll do it, I’ll give it all! Take everything!”

She was spiraling, her desperation clawing its way out of her throat.

She didn’t understand the magic, didn’t grasp the weight of this divine law or cosmic balance. But she did know the boy she loved. She knew she couldn’t stand to see him suffer not again.

And those images… The horror. The blood. The children. The screaming.

She would never forget.

The backlash, the punishment of the world it meant nothing to her now. All she wanted… was for Lucian to live. Just to live.

But Max

Max stared at her, broken and kneeling on the floor. He looked down, jaw clenched, thoughts twisted with guilt.

“If Lucian saw you like this kneeling like this because of him” Max murmured, more to himself than to her, “he’d be devastated.”

He tried to shake it from his mind, but the image lingered like a curse.

“Look,” he finally said, waving his hand.

The screen shifted.

Avey, still crying, glanced up slowly. Her eyes dull, drained.

Now the screen didn’t show disasters.

It showed people.

Real ones.

A boy, maybe twenty-one, twenty-three, stood silently by a hospital bed. His mother lay still eyes closed, skin pale. The light in the room felt heavy.

The image changed.

A boy with short hair sat in a small room, clinging tightly to a girl his age. She was sobbing uncontrollably into his chest. His arms trembled as he held her, his expression shattered.

“That’s” Avey’s voice caught in her throat.

“That’s Jimmy. What happened to his mother?” Her hands clenched against the floor.

“And that… that’s Garry. But who is that woman crying? His sister? Who…?”She couldn’t finish the sentence.

The grief in those scenes it was suffocating.

Lucian would be heartbroken if he saw this.

She was heartbroken just thinking about how he’d feel knowing that these were the ripples his existence had sent through the world.

Her eyes rose slowly, empty now, toward Max.

He met her gaze.

“Believe me,” he said gently, “even Lucian doesn’t want to live not if he knew he was the reason behind whole world pain and suffering.”

His voice faded into something more solemn.

“This is just the beginning, Avey. It’ll get worse. Every day. It won’t stop until everything is gone.”

The screen blinked again.

Avey said nothing.

Now, she understood.

And that silence?

That silence was the breaking point.

“There must be some way out, right? At least some…” Avey choked out the words like a dying breath, her voice trembling between despair and delusion. “Please anything. Just give me any way out. I’ll do it. I’ll give everything, be anything..”

She folded forward, forehead pressing against the cold floor, her body bent in complete surrender facing Max. Facing fate.

She didn’t care how pathetic she looked. Pride didn’t matter now. Not when the stakes were him.

She didn’t understand balance. She didn’t care about world laws or systems or even the world will that wrapped around their lives like a cursed vine.

All she wanted all she wanted was for everything to be okay.

No more dying. No more pain.

AND No more Lucian dying.

“Please” her voice cracked again, softer now, dissolving into tears. “I beg you… don’t kill Lucian. He didn’t do anything wrong… he didn’t”

Her words became sobs. Her tears darkened the floor beneath her face. Her hands clenched tightly into fists, digging into her own skin.

For a long moment, the world felt silent.

And Max… couldn’t take it anymore.

He watched her crumble. Not just cry. Not just plead.

And something broke inside him too.

With a sudden jolt, his small body shot off the bed. Bare feet hit the ground with a thud as he rushed toward her. Not as a god. Not as some wielder of balance. Just as a child. A friend. A soul that couldn’t bear to see another in that much pain.

“Hey!” he shouted, voice shaky. “Please don’t do this”

He dropped to his knees beside her, reaching out with trembling hands, not knowing where to touch, what to say, how to undo what had already been shown.

“This is…” he whispered, biting down on the emotion swelling inside his throat. “This isn’t what I wanted. I never wanted this…”

Avey didn’t move. She was still sobbing, forehead still pressed to the floor like she was begging the world to rewind time.

Max placed a hand on her back, small and fragile, but warm. Grounding.

“I don’t hate him,” he said again, quieter. “I love him too. That’s why this hurts so damn much.”

His voice cracked.

“Do you think it’s easy for me to say these things? You think I want to be the one to show this?!” His hands clenched now too, his lip trembling. “He’s my friend. My only friend. I just… I just can’t lie to you. Not when it’s already happening.”

The screen behind them pulsed faintly, flickering with pain and ruin.

“But this world,” Max whispered, his voice barely audible now, “this world has its price. And Lucian… Lucian’s presence has already broken the scale.”

Avey still didn’t move. But her sobs had quieted, like her spirit had drained dry.

Max looked down at her, helpless and small, wishing more than anything that he could lie. That he could say it would be okay. That some miracle would fix everything.

Nothing can

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