CHAPTER 231: CHAPTER 231: PLAN

Elias leaned back in his chair, letting the silence stretch until it became unbearable for the two gods standing across from him. "Alright," he said finally, fingers drumming once against the desk. "If we’re done trading existential trauma and moral dilemmas, I have a plan."

Victor’s eyes narrowed just slightly. "You always do."

"It’s called efficiency," Elias replied dryly. "And before you start, yes, it’s possible to solve both your problems without blowing up the planet or traumatizing a mortal."

Uno blinked. "Both problems?"

"Yes. Connor and Poseidon." Elias stood, reaching for his tablet and gesturing vaguely toward the window, where the city glowed like an artificial constellation. "I assume Connor’s spark is stable now. The anchor you left in him isn’t trying to overwrite his soul anymore, if you did a good job and again, I assume you did. He’s safe." He paused, his tone softening slightly. "But you’re not, Uno. You’re going to keep rotting under the weight of what you did until you see him again."

Uno’s expression flickered with hope, fear, and something quieter and older, like remorse shaped into form. "He won’t see me."

Elias tilted his head. "Maybe. But you’ll never know unless you ask. And since I happen to be good friends with him..." He raised an eyebrow. "You’re in luck."

Uno’s gaze sharpened, uncertain. "He’ll listen to you?"

"He’ll say yes before knowing what I’m asking," Elias said, smiling faintly. "That’s just Connor. Generous to a fault, easily bribed with decent coffee, and, somehow, still trusts me."

Victor’s mouth curved in that small, smug way of his that usually preceded a half-amused remark and a half-threat. "He likes you because you remind him of himself," he said.

Elias gave him a sidelong look. "If that’s your way of calling me self-destructive and emotionally unavailable, you’re not wrong."

Uno exhaled through his nose, something close to a laugh. "You’d make a good god."

"Don’t insult me," Elias said. "One of you is plenty."

Victor looked unbothered by the jab; his mate would become one anyway. He was watching Elias again, the way he always did when Elias spoke like this, tired and quietly brilliant. "So you’ll take him to Connor," Victor said, voice low. "But Connor decides whether to see him."

"Exactly," Elias replied. "Connor’s no saint, but he’s not cruel. He deserves to choose how this ends. Uno doesn’t get to dictate closure, but he should at least have the chance to apologize if Connor allows it."

Uno inclined his head slowly, the first hint of humility softening his tone. "If he refuses, I’ll leave. For good this time."

"Good," Elias said. "I’ll talk to him tomorrow morning. I’ll set it up somewhere neutral, probably that ridiculous rooftop café he likes. He’ll agree, even if it’s just to yell at you."

Victor’s hand brushed Elias’s wrist in passing, the contact brief but unmistakably possessive. "And the second problem?"

Elias glanced at him over his shoulder, smirking. "Ah yes. The divine toddler is throwing storms because mortals built wind turbines in his favorite currents."

"Poseidon," Victor corrected mildly, though the faint curve of his mouth gave him away.

"Yes, him," Elias said. "You’re going to go handle it before he floods the coast again."

Victor’s brows rose. "I’m going?"

Elias gave him a look that said of course. "Yes, you. He listens to you, remember? You terrify him. Which, for once, is useful."

Victor’s tone dropped half an octave, velvet and smug. "And you’ll stay here, I assume."

Elias paused long enough for Victor to recognize the trap before the grin appeared. "Actually," Elias said, "I’m going with you."

For a second, the Executioner, one of the oldest and most dangerous beings alive, looked absolutely, gloriously pleased. "You’re going with me," he repeated, as if trying the words on his tongue.

Elias shrugged, pretending not to notice the faint flicker of red light blooming behind Victor’s eyes. "Someone has to make sure you don’t start an underwater war or offend an ancient sea god by existing. And if it happens to look like a vacation, well..." His lips twitched. "Call it a honeymoon. Before the wedding."

Uno groaned softly. "You’re taking a romantic getaway to confront Poseidon?"

Victor didn’t even hide his smirk now. "He suggested it," he said, voice full of satisfaction that could melt glaciers.

Elias gave him a deadpan stare. "You’re enjoying this far too much."

"Immensely." Victor stepped closer, his fingers brushing the edge of Elias’s collar in an absent, indulgent gesture. "A week at sea, diplomatic engagements, and you by my side, how could I not?"

Elias sighed, though the corner of his mouth betrayed him. "I’m starting to regret this already."

"No," Victor said softly, too pleased, too knowing. "You’re not."

Uno rolled his eyes skyward, muttering something about "mortals and their death wishes," but there was a flicker of real relief there too, relief that the air had shifted, that the impossible had softened into motion.

Elias straightened, glancing between the two gods with the air of someone assigning homework. "Alright. Uno, you wait until I call. I’ll tell Connor you want to talk, nothing more. Victor, prep your ocean tantrum diplomacy. We’ll leave in two days."

Victor inclined his head, still wearing that quiet, dangerous smile that meant he was already picturing the voyage and Elias in it. "Understood."

Elias grabbed his leather bag from the desk, muttering as he walked toward the door. "Gods and oceans. I should’ve gone into mechanical engineering."

Victor’s voice followed him, low and smug and entirely too content. "But then who would I take on my honeymoon?"

Elias stopped at the door, shot him a sharp look over his shoulder, and, despite himself. smiled. "You’re impossible."

"Undeniably," Victor said. "And fortunately, yours."

Uno made a face like he’d just been cursed by affection. "If you two are done flirting, some of us still have to wait for redemption."

Elias pushed the door open. "Then wait patiently," he said. "Because miracles take time, and apparently, I’m in the business of making them."

The door hissed shut behind him, leaving the faint hum of ether and the sound of Victor’s quiet, satisfied laugh echoing in the room a sound that promised both storms and something dangerously close to happiness.