Up in the heavens, a collection of stars forming the legendary archer’s formation fell from the sky. They formed an arrow as they plunged into the midnight blue ocean and through the underwater dome. When it reached the collapsed boy on the ground, it merged spirits with him.
An ethereal blue aura coated Larson’s body. He felt his strength returning twice more than before. From his faced down position, he regained his stance. The onslaught of unseen pressure became nothing but wind passing by his ears.
A man’s persuasive voice called to him, “Rejoice, my child, for I have come.”
“Who are you?” Larson asked using his thoughts.
“I am the archer of old, but my tale spans generations.” He detailed his story inside the boy’s mind. “Though my death was of different accounts, I succumbed to the scorpion’s sting. Oh, how I watched my lover Artemis weep as she furthered my demise with the tip of her arrow.”
The boy sounded confused. “Why me? Why now?”