A/N: Hey, guys. This is the preface to Gods of the Future. First: the full summary.

In the future, ancient gods, new technology and powerful magic collide.

The last of humanity live in five cities, ruled over by the gods and separated by patron.

At the age of fourteen, the citizens undergo testing to identify their patron god or goddess. There are fifteen possible outcomes.

Fourteen colors; one blank.

May Athene wants nothing more than a green outcome, as her parents and older sister received. But it isn't possible.

A blank. May is a blank. A god-to-be. She is special.

May, along with childhood friend Mark, travels to Olympus. There, they meet the other godlings in their class and the gods themselves. Suddenly, May is learning to use magic and playing board games with gods.

But nothing is ever as perfect or as clear as it seems. The gods know something; something about the godlings.

They are the gods of the future, but will there be a future to rule?

Hope you all enjoy!

-Agent (or Katie)

Preface: Remember This

I WALK BAREFOOT down a bright corridor. My feet are pale, but even they bring a certain clarity to the muddled perception that is nothing.

No color; no light; no sound. But I am here. Otherwise I would not be walking. I am alive, but I'm sure if that is a good thing.

The floor is not white nor black; its grey. The kind of grey that is infuriatingly plain but at the same time deep within itself. It makes me want to smash the floor open, just so that I may see what lies beneath the smooth surface.

Is it broken, twisted? Is it harboring secrets or refugees? Both? What whispers has it heard; which ones does it block out from the person on the other side?

Is there a person below? And, if the answer is yes, do they know we are here? Are they a prisoner too?

(Is there nothing?)

I pause, shaking my head. That cannot be true. Or, I cannot allow myself to believe that is true. I continue to pause my thoughts, but do not stop walking. Around me walk the guards. The only other color in this place comes from their uniforms.

Red. Blood. It boxes me in and forces me to keep walking until we reach the end of the hallway. Each painful step follows another until the motions blur into a series of half-remembered thoughts. I wonder if I will remember this in the morning. Or, is this morning? I cannot remember the time of day, let alone how much time has passed. What memories have I lost in this place?

Memories. They disperse as quickly as the soldiers, allowing me to look up again. I can't decide which is worse anymore; the red or the absence of it.

Now, I am in another room, waiting for the doctor. He is not a real doctor, this I know. He doesn't deserve the title of a healer; all he does is take. He takes the things that make us ourselves and leaves us as shells the gods will fill with lies and false histories.

If I was not concentrating, I wouldn't have realized we had moved at all. The floors haven't changed; the walls match the floors, which match the general disposition of our godly prison cells. Nothing. It's a color which plays tricks on us; it tries to make us believe it is something it is not.

Some days, I believe I see green, or yellow, or blue. Purple. There is something important about purple, but I can't seem to find it. I think I see a lot of things, but I don't. The fact that I still know that is a blessing in itself.

The grey is a color that our primitive minds have no way of ever comprehending, and it is a color that transcends our ability to interpret color itself.

Brown is a lie, but grey is even worse. It lies to itself more than it lies others. The irony of that not lost on me, even now that irony has taken over every thought I have.

There is truth within the truth, but only if we choose to see it. Only if we choose to hear it bellowing down the intertwined mess of life's pathways, echoing in every crevice and pounding at the doors of our minds with the force of the gods themselves.

And when it finds an open door, the truth will always find a way to set itself free.

That is why we keep the doors closed.

Remember this.