The Olympian gods watch as a dark tide consumes Ilion.
The Olympian gods observe a darkening stream, which erases the lingering reflection of Helen's beauty. Shadows drifting down from Olympus become unchained. Diomedes runs along the sands of a desert, trying to catch a shadow that drifts toward a mirror that wavers between form and formlessness. Diomedes encounters the goddess Iris and sees her colors fade as a massive shadow sweeps over the aeon tide. The tide allows the ancient world and modern world to constantly reflect on each other, but the shadows and reflections between these two worlds begin to drift aimlessly and take a life of their own. While trying to stop the tide, Ares drowns in it and becomes a mere shadow. After many thunderous roars, Zeus fails to stop the aeon tide. Diomedes goes to find where the shadows gather to create an army of warriors. Warriors in the form of dark, formless shadows threaten to fully disturb the balance between the two worlds. The formless shadows begin to consume the aeon tide, and Diomedes wonders whether he must join forces with the shadows to destroy the city of Ilion. One of the dark warriors emerging from the tide finds Helen and swears to protect her. Helen is mystified as to why he desires to protect her, but she later discovers his real identity.
In the aeon tide, a reflection and a shadow converge. The reflection says, “You are my shadow.” The shadow says, “You are my reflection.” Two worlds reflect on each other, but the tide that moves between these worlds becomes darker and darker until a ceaseless flow is interrupted. Shadows merge in a soundless fury and reduce forms to formlessness.
“The gods have no shadows. Only mortals are trapped in the darkness moving behind them and before them. They have no other choice. They have no choice at all. Their entire world moves from underneath their feet. Their existence is a wavering shape that never finds stability.”
Zeus observes a sky full of lightning. He looks down across Olympus and sees the aeon tide. Ares stands beside Zeus. “The tide is moving swiftly. The shadows of mortals are moving aimlessly. They are no longer enchained.”
“The shadows within the tide will consume the tide. They have always moved between the ancient and modern world, but they have taken a life of their own.”
“And what now?”
“We shall stand here and observe the tide as it darkens.”
Ares tries to picture the dark tide in his mind and feels pleased. “The mortals will become nothing but shadows in the end. They will no longer attempt to interfere with our plans.”
The ancient world reflects onto the modern world, and the shadows in-between these worlds move aimlessly. Images randomly appear on the surging blackness. An image lingers in the darkening tide: the war god being swallowed whole by a shadow. Ares fails to see this image as he smiles maliciously down at the fading reflection of a mortal world.
A reflection lingers between the shadow and the object of that shadow. An immaterial blackness swells, causing a shift in the surging mass. The tide turns. An unseen presence is reflected. Something ancient reflects onto something new, bridging the gap between worlds. Old and new shine on each other through a mirror that is reflected in a small glittering dot, which becomes larger and shines faintly through a darkening tide. The shadow remains.
He sees it in the distance, shining like a miniature sun. It is unlike anything he has ever seen before. The more he approaches it, the more the sunlight pursues its circuitous path along shadowy contours. Diomedes strides toward the mirror, which partially reflects him and a receding horizon. The light of a golden sun shines down on him, making his shadow darker. For a moment, he feels as though the mirror is at one with the sky. But then the mirror becomes more prominent somehow, fully embracing the world of matter at the same time that it appears separate from it. Diomedes looks into the mirror, trying to make sense of its shimmering mystery. In the mirror, he sees a city of iron. He realizes that it is the newly resurrected city of Ilion. Then the mirror reveals another image: objects that have been excavated. These objects reveal something ancient. The mirror reveals a series of images. These images appear to unfold slowly at first, but then they succeed each other rapidly. Diomedes observes how a city is being uncovered in a world that seems far distant from his. Then the mirror reveals how the excavated land is becoming darker. Something conceals the remnants of Troy. A shadow appears on the mirror, eliminating every single trace of sunlight. The shadow becomes one with the mirror but then moves strangely before Diomedes's eyes. It becomes unchained and moves aimlessly across the desert. He looks down at his feet and sees his shadow detaching itself from him. The other shadow vanishes into the distance while his own shadow lingers before him. After a few moments, the shadow moves forward, and he feels that he must follow it along its unknown course.
Diomedes runs across a rugged surface, plodding through the deep desert sand. His shadow is detached from him as it slithers across the sand seemingly of its own. He does not know if it is leading him to a new destination or somewhere he has been to in the past. In his mind, he cannot tell if he is drifting toward the object or the reflection of that object. The shadow continues its tenuous trek across a large expanse that reeks of the unknown or a part of the unknown that is partially reflected in his mind. He holds his blade as though ready for an imminent attack. He feels as though the scene before him is an invisible enemy who is ready to unleash a sudden fury upon him. He looks ahead of him and feels as though the horizon is merely a mirror of what is behind him. As he makes progress, he sees a mirror shining brightly in the sun. He instantly runs toward it, as though a beautiful oasis has suddenly come into his view. The shadow remains stagnant for a moment as he makes his way toward the mirror. But then the shadow speedily resumes its course, which involves the mirror that seems to fade, wavering between form and formlessness. The shadow slithers across the mirror, making the mirror look darker. The sun rays appear unable to penetrate the shadowy surface of the mirror. He goes to look into that mirror, but sees nothing. Then he thrusts his blade into the mirror, causing it to shatter.
The mirror reflects a word. That word reflects a world. The meaning of that word and the world behind it reflects a man who journeys from the shadow of an object to the object itself. The object is in fact his own shadow. And then a book opens and the pages flip over each other, heaping themselves upon the end of the book in order to gradually reveal its beginning. The pages rotate steadily, like the motion of an hourglass, or a wave that rises powerfully, a motion that consumes all motion. Then the pages become a solid block, at the other side of which is the very first page of the book. Now Diomedes has become a new meaning, a new man. A light shines in the mirror, but he can barely see himself reflected in it. Measure, proportion, and mass dimly reflect in it. Diomedes walks across an empty horizon, watching his faint reflection across the clear distance of boundaries. The mirror seems to recede from his view, and then he finds himself still on the very first page of a story that seems without end.
As he walks, he observes how the shadow seems separate from his shape and form. The shadow seems to walk ahead of him, and he feels the need to keep up with it. It seems to rush by its own will, rebelling against the sun. It seems completely immune from the form it is projected from. Then he fears the worst is happening: shadows appear from every corner of the desert. He can see that there is not even a cloud in the sky. He can see the mirage. The mirror mirage. A shadow slithers across the light, and the gateway, the reflection of his new self, begins to vanish. At the other side of the mirror stands the blind seer, who observes Diomedes as he makes uncertain progress across a desert of shadows.
A shadow appears in a partially reflected, imperfect pool of light. And then the blind seer begins to see. His ability to perceive the depths of the unknown fades for as long as his restored eyesight will last. Then his vision becomes darkness, and he can once again penetrate the boundary of the future. He sees the shadow, which slithers across the reflection of the man who is venturing boldly across scattered desert shadows. The seer knows what he must do. He knows what his final act will be, knowing that he had no prior vision of this crucial moment. He picks up a rock and instantly throws it at the mirror. The mirror shatters in small, glittering fragments. But he sees it slowly fusing itself back together as the pieces rise and converge in slow motion. He believes that he is imagining this, and he wipes his face with both hands. Then his life slowly drains out of his mortal coil, which is left empty and lifeless. Right before his soul departs, he tells himself He is on his own now.
The mirror remains intact, partially reflecting the seer's lifeless body. Diomedes is plodding through a barren landscape, and he can feel that something has changed. The image in the mirror reappears, but it is a different reflection that the one before. His face, his entire shape and form, has changed. He shuts his eyes for a moment. The only thing he recognizes once he opens his eyes again is the desert. He is running across a burning desert, and his shadow follows him close behind. He trudges along the sand and tries to piece together the moments leading up to the instance of the mirror breaking. He thinks about how he is merely a shadow enslaved to a golden sun. Diomedes knows that trying to become more than a shadow is futile. He knows that he is merely a mere reflection of the gods' power, and that his effort to be free from the gods is reflected in the unbreakable mirror. He moves where the light moves. He has no will of his own as he moves only when the light moves. The gods keep him enchained to the light, reminding him that trying to be more than a shadow is pointless. After a golden sun is destroyed, another one appears. He remains a shadow and therefore is enslaved to one golden sun after another. He would like to believe that one day the golden suns will lose their light and allow his shadow to go free. He yearns to become more than a shadow. But for now he remains enslaved to the light of a golden sun. The gods cannot be vanquished. He imagines looking high above from where he is in order to glimpse the bright lights of Olympus, and how these lights follow each in rapid succession to make his shadow darker and darker. The light begins to move, and he finds himself drifting into the distance. The sun descends across the clear sky, and the shadow rejoices at the near possibility of gaining freedom at night. Night seems to fall for a brief moment before a golden sun rises once again on the horizon. His shadow has become darker than before.