Janus, the God of all beginnings, gates, transitions, time, choices, duality, doorways, passages, and endings, stood in his own imprisoned home with nothing but the timeless and everlasting flatness he was forced to endure in silence as his inner voices conversed with one another in their aggravating discourse.
The narrator, a mysterious disembodied voice with a well-mannered and sophisticated tone, was the first to speak up. "Hey, don't you think it's a little dull being here? Why not do something exciting like build an interesting story for once?" Commenting on the constant boredom and repetitive cycle of being here.
Culsans, one of the many voices in Janus head, responded to the narrator's question, "What are you trying to say? You're bored, or something? Well, if that's the case, why not get out of our ears for a while and go somewhere? Go somewhere that's more of yours." He began to snicker with laughter. "...Speed!"
Letting out a disappointed sigh, the narrator almost wished he would never share the same space as that guy. "A pun, really? That is the most original joke I have heard in this unending millennium of waiting. You ought to change careers if you seriously wish to amuse us."
Another one chimed in, a soft and solemn woman voice taking this opportunity to enter the fry, "There is no need to argue. All we want is what's best for all of us. Besides, it had been so long since any of us ever had done an enjoyable activity together," the supposed goddess of the hearth, home, family, bakers, bread, and donkeys had finally spoken after managing to hold her laughter.
However, Quirinus immediately laughed out loud: the god that incarnates the quirites, the Romans, in their civil capacities of producers and fathers as well as peace. The laughter coming from the god is said to sound like thunder. He then said, "For the love of Jupiter, it is obvious that the both of you are more interested in amusing yourselves than in actually thinking of a story that is truly worth telling. Alas, why are my compatriots so blind to the truth of the world!?"
Janus could only sigh in sluggishness, "How many times will I have to listen to their quarrels?" He asked himself, finding all of this too troublesome and exhaustive to begin with, as he had missed out on all the importance of exploring other realms before his due punishment.
A man of intellect, Portunus, being sort of duplication inside the scope of the powers and attributes of their host, has shared his own sentiment: "I pity you for having to deal with those fools. Always having better ideas that ended in vain. So, how much longer will we have to stay here?" The rather snobbish voice asked with indifference.
Before Janus could speak, the last and final voice entered this discussion: "We can't get out." The voice of an elderly, frail, and terrified old man spoke out his own thoughts: "We were going to be trapped forever with no way out...again and again!" Saturn, the god of time, generation, dissolution, abundance, wealth, agriculture, periodic renewal, and liberation, has informed them of all this and more, which is why they can't leave.
"There he goes again," Quirinus snorted at the old fool, "always the drama queen of the group," finding it ever more irritating to hear a cowardly god fearing for his own life when men have the capability to face danger, unlike what he describes.
Culsans laugh mockingly at the notion of this prison, "such the way of Saturn," expressing some hint of pity to the old god before turning his attention towards Janus. "So what now, God of all beginnings, gates, transitions, and so on?" He challenged them with great impatience as the rest of them waited for him to speak up.
Standing and floating in the empty space of this prison his fellow kin had thrown him in, especially having his own omniscience being ripped out of his grasp for nothing less than being afraid of his growing power, it is understandable to have Janus remained here in this frozen spot.
There is nothing to do, nothing to escape. There is nothing he or the other accompanying voices can achieve in getting out of this inescapable dimension. The Roman gods have created something meant for him; "I don't know" was his only and honest response, one filled with exhaustion as he looked on with boredom while occasionally blinking from time to time.
"Oh, come on now," the narrator said in a disappointed tone, "do not be so hard on yourself. Surely, you must have some idea of where to start for us." He asked, sounding confident in his belief that the person he was talking with would be able to do it.
But Janus only shrugged his shoulders as he gripped his spear tighter. "They took away my infamous ability to know all the passage of time itself," regretfully letting out a sigh. He could not do anything but remain silent until the next moment of awakening. "Therefore, what am I supposed to do here in this imperturbable realm that knows neither time nor transitions?" Admitting his defeat in this.
Even the pessimistic voice of Saturn agreed. "It is hopeless; there is nothing we can do," the fearful god replied while shivering in terror. "Its better if we just disappear; the endless waiting will only increase our suffering of being trapped here again and again, over and over," he explained to them with dreadful fear of continuing his own sentence.
Listening to him with open ears had made Quirinus disgusted at this pitiful display of weakness. "Would you stop your blabbering, you miserable old bastard?" He snarled angrily at him for even suggesting such a cowardly act as to cease existing: "We are gods! The very idols that mortals worship, the supreme beings that hold sway over them, we cannot and must not bow down to their own whims! We are above them!" The furious god roared at this insolent display.
Sensing the voice's anger, Vesta quickly chimed in to calm him down. "Quirinus, please try not to be too hard on him; he is merely just concerned for all of us," said the kindest of them all. "Every single one of us is suffering together; isn't that right, Janus?" She inquired of the main host, who seemed to be contemplating his own thoughts as he looked up.
Eternally imprisoned in this dimension, Janus doesn't want to even think or say anything anymore. In fact, he had desired that his own kin should have killed him rather than sending him into this forsaken place. "Saturn is right," everyone gasped except the frail voice.
"You can't be serious!" Quirinus complained in horror, "You're not thinking of killing yourself, are you?" He asked nervously, unable to fathom the thought of it. But Janus only stared at nothingness in silence, causing his brethren to worry over him.
However, Portunus found this equally stupid and meaningless as it is if Janus actually did kill himself: "What does it matter to me if our vessel is dying or not?" The unconcerned and pragmatic voice replied, "I am more concerned about my livelihood, as the person I'm looking at might be dead tomorrow. I am sure that would be nothing new for the both of you to see," he scoffed in arrogance at these fools.
Culsans chuckled at the idea, "Death is for losers! How could anyone commit suicide just because of this little incident?" The mocking voice asked as if it were a funny joke to be hearing it, "Besides, dying isn't a real thing here in the first place, or else we would all be dead. Am I correct?"
All of them kept quiet to let those words sink in; each of them knew the truth, yet the other half wouldn't admit it. Suddenly, the narrator decided to join in on this conversation: "Well, if we aren't going to die, then let's do something fun to pass the time again."
Expressing exhaustion over this, Janus looked down to see the darkness beneath him. "Again?" He quietly whispered, realizing how long he has stayed here but couldn't figure out an answer for it: "How many times have we spoken about this? One hundred? Ten quadrillion years? Or maybe even infinite times?" he mumbled his questions as his head rose.
Suddenly, the Narrator told him with understanding, "Many times, my good friend, many times," consideration could be heard in his voice as well as sympathy, "and for that, I understand how tiresome it may be for you to talk about this for the umpteenth time."
Silence had taken over this emptiness as nothing moved; even the fake replica of outer space was no exception to it. The only person who seemed to have control over this situation was none other than himself, Janus, and he, as a living Roman God, couldn't fathom doing anything else.
Why can't he die? Is this the price to pay for being a god? It's terribly absurd, but he wished for none of it after realizing his own incompetence in not seeing things clearly as to what the others have chosen: "You didn't see it, did you?" Janus said weakly, already giving up on fighting over this, "How did they manage to catch me off guard?"
No one spoke except Portunus: "For being the God of Time, able to see the past and future, I am surprised to not have witnessed their betrayal." agreeing with their host's assumption as he added, "Even when you see things clearly and foresee them, you are still blind from the sight of deceitfulness and treachery, weren't you Janus?" The voice spoke with the coldness of his words.
"They betrayed us."
Quirinus angrily said with burning resentment as his entire tone boiled in fury, "To think that our own kin would turn against us, and worse, make us go through that accursed punishment. Damn those bastards, damn them!" He cursed furiously at what he thought to be family.
Vesta also felt heartbroken at being reminded of that tragic event but was wise enough to keep her mouth shut, having no clear answer or response in her mind as to whether she should say it or not. Instead, she was merely reminded while the other voices spoke before her.
"I told all of you," the panicked, frail voice reminded them, "you wouldn't listen to me because of your pride and vanity for yourselves! And now, look at what happened!" The desperate voice cried out, "Now we can't die! We are doomed to this fate, even if we are gods! Can't any of you see?!" Saturn continued his rambling as the other voices tuned out of it.
Getting tired of Saturn's cowardice, Quirinus choked the frightened God with his own invisible bare hands, "SHUT UP, YOU OLD FOOL!" He shouted with hatred as the pathetic excuse of a god struggled to break free: "THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT BECAUSE OF HOW MUCH YOU KEPT BLAMING US FOR WHAT WE HAD DONE!" The angry god's grip tightened.
Janus can hear chaos wrecking havoc all over his mind, but he doesn't care. For there is nothing he should even care about at all. "It's all futile," said the disinterested host of his voices. "No matter what we do, the outcome will never change," finding everything hopeless like the god of time had stated it.
He wanted to sleep like any mortal or beast, but unlike them, he cannot escape the perception of time; he is forced to endure his immortal years of being awake in this waking world just for what? Be the God these humans all worshiped as they claimed to be.
Through this perpetual torment, he wondered if he could—
"Wait, did you sense that?" Portunus alerted everyone as he sensed an unusual energy entering inside the pocket dimension, interrupting Janus own trail of thought. "It's both...fascinating and strange at the same time," he said to himself, unsure of its nature but knowing that it was potentially dangerous.
As the other voices tuned into the approaching source entering their imprisoned home, Janus eyes widened a bit from this discovery: "That can't possibly be..." He mused to himself, "no mortal or god can come in and out of this prison unless..." For the very first time in his life, he felt an emotion akin to that of a human.
Bewilderment.