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Mount Olympus stretches across the length of New York City. It is dotted with mansion worthy homes that no one lives in, and its only portal connecting the mortals to the immortals hovers atop the Empire State Building, floor 600. 

Bia, the goddess of power, walks along its westward border, dragging a spear across the ground next to her. She had finally managed to take a breather from the tedious duties assigned by Zeus.

A day full of organizing paperwork and running around delivering messages or should she say complaints to other gods and beings. Bia thinks something like that should be the headache of Hermes or Iris, but they are far too important for such nonsense. 

She likes to come to the edge of Olympus to look over at the city below. Like ants, the mortals scurry to and fro. Even at night, the city hums with life never seeming to sleep. 

Bia crouches in the clouds curling up around the edges of rock and grass. She adjusts her grip on her spear, twisting it so that it’s blunt end rests next to her foot and the point aims towards a star up above.

She sends a wink to the twinkling orb before returning her gaze to the glittering city. 

She can feel greedy mortal souls praying subconsciously for her blessing. The thirst for power comes in many shapes and forms. A child is drifting to sleep hoping to grow taller by the morning. His father is in the next room going over his notes for that big presentation in the morning that will decide if he gets a promotion. His wife fixes everyone lunches for the next day wishing under her breath that her family would do it themselves. 

These are small prayers. The bigger ones lie in constitutions binding citizens to their government. Political figures and country leaders scheme for more power, more money, and more worth. 

Whether he wants that raise or she plans to bust her husband for cheating or they pray to whomever may be listening for an easy work day tomorrow or a president feeds people propaganda with empty promises, every person seeks out power some way somehow.

And nobody is ever satisfied with the amount of power they have. 

Power was lost to blood, money, and corruption long ago, and in a way, so was Bia.

For a moment, she imagines her spear plummeting to the earth below, embedding itself in the street before the force of the blow takes out an entire block- or maybe two. 

Bia can almost hear the panicked screams of those fortunate enough to survive and the sirens of emergency vehicles rushing to save the injured and put out spreading fires. 

Her fingers tighten around her spear’s shaft, knuckles white, entertaining the idea.

In a blink, she’s no longer staring down at the streams of brake lights. Instead, she sees slipper covered feet, Zeus’s slipper covered feet; she’s now in the throne room.

Bia lets a long sigh blow through her nose before rising and meeting the King of the God’s eyes. She thinks they are beady and too far apart, like an eagle’s. 

She grants him a strained smile before saying, “Yes?”

Bia hates when he drops her into his presence.

“Bia, did you check Prometheus to make sure his bonds are sound?”

A twitch has started at the corner of Bia’s right eye, “Sir, I check his bindings every week on Thursday at 9 A.M. Today is not Thursday.”

“Ah, yes, of course. But I want them checked today . Not Thursday. Not tomorrow. To. Day. You still have time before this day is over.”

Bia drops her gaze to the slippers once again. One taps an annoying little tune. Clenching her jaw, she gives Zeus a curt nod before bowing slightly and turning to go. 

When Bia makes it to Prometheus and his site of eternal torment, it’s just like every time since the first when she herself tied the Titan to a rock so that Zeus’s loyal pet bird could peck out his liver every single day like clockwork.

As she approaches, Prometheus does not look her way. He just grunts in greeting, staring off into grey clouds. 

Making it to his side, she grabs one of the bonds, giving it a tug. Like every single time before, it doesn’t  move. 

Bia rolls her eyes. When she does a job, it’s done to her best abilities which means it’s perfect.

She looks between the silver swaths of rope at the area of pale skin still knitting itself back together after being ripped open by a sharp beak hours earlier. 

Bia remembers the day Prometheus stole fire from Olympus to give it back to his precious humans. She can recall Zeus’s hissy fit over the matter. She was ordered to bind Prometheus to this rock after cleaning the shards of shattered statues and pottery from the royal throne room. 

She remembers the flicker of gleeful electricity spark in Zeus’s eyes the first time his golden eagle feasted on Prometheus’s liver, and how he had sapped a little power from Bia having the Titan finally defeated. 

“Prometheus,” she says.

The Titan, not used to Bia speaking to him, looks to her.

“Has anyone told you about your humans.”

Prometheus continues to look at her. Of course not. It would go against Zeus’s direct orders to share information of Prometheus’s beloved creations. 

“The creatures you loved enough to spend an eternal life of pain and carnage for power Zeus. As soon as he had you locked away, he told them all that he was their god. He made them all believe that he was the reason they lived. You are but a myth to them. A story told to teach lessons not to teach them of their creation.”

Bia looks into Prometheus’s eyes. They were a warm brown color, and she had their full attention. 

“Of course now, the mortals don’t know they worship us. With the change of time, gods gain power through symbolism and stretched rules. All of us are stories to them actually, and yet they continue to feed us power by accident.”

A crease appears between Prometheus’s eyebrows, “Why do you tell me this, Bia?”

“Because, as the Goddess of Power, I believe that it is my duty to bestow power to its rightful place.”

Prometheus squints at her, “Why do all you gods speak like that? You didn’t learn it from us. Get to the point or leave. I have an appointment with a feathered beast in a few hours, and I’d like to stare into oblivion until then. So, if you’ll so kindly go away, I’ll see you Thursday. 

“Prometheus. I’m giving you your humans back.”

He glares up at the sky, “Okay, sure. And we'll share a glass of wine poured straight from Dionysus’s teat afterward I suppose.” 

“Spirits below, Prometheus. Let me talk!” Bia ground out, second guessing what she was about to do.

The Titan scoffs, but looks to her once again, cocking a single eyebrow.

She tightens the hold on her spear and grins,“Tell them who their real Patron is.”

Bia lifts her spear and thrusts it into the same binding she always checks. It snaps immediately, and the rest of the strands disappear. 

She thinks it’s time she sent herself a prayer. 

______________

Camp Half Blood is a safe haven for demigods, the result of a human and a god producing a child. It’s protected by an enchanted pine tree that’s protected by a magical, Golden Fleece which is protected by a dragon normally found snoozing and wrapped around its roots.

Inside, there’s the Big House that lodges all the important meetings, an Oracle room, a reluctantly sober god, and a centaur. 

There are many activities for the campers to participate in from archery to sword training. There’s nightly singing around the bonfires, and a cafeteria that always has what you’re craving. 

Today, however, all other activities have been suspended because every camper is expected to attend and relay Capture the Flag. 

Seokjin hates when they have to play Capture the flag. 

That’s why he slept in. He tells everyone he needs his beauty sleep, but that’s just because he doesn’t want to explain to his siblings in the Aphrodite cabin how he stayed up until 4 o’clock in the morning playing video games in the Hephaestus cabin and that he’s wearing the same outfit from then. 

Late, he walks up to the mass of half bloods standing to attention as a satyr wearing a fishing hat explains to the new campers how this works. 

Jin yawns and makes an effort not to pay any attention, staring half awake at the tree tops over the brim of the satyr’s hat.

Everyone around him is decked out in borrowed training armor. Red marks one team and blue the other. Jin claims neither, sticking to sporting his light pink sweatshirt instead, subconsciously smoothing the wrinkles from it out of habit. 

Giddy anticipation radiates in the air around him, and Jin blows out a sigh while scratching at a fresh mosquito bite on his thumb.

Someone does a chant on one side and the other side answers with one of their own. Jin thinks it’s tacky but whatever. 

The satyr, the fishing lures attached to his hat glinting in the sun, blows a whistle, and everyone charges into the woods, staking territories and finding a good place to hide their flags. 

Jin slowly walks after them. He picks his way carefully across what will soon be no man’s land until he comes to a stop before a cliff face with a narrow slit through its center. 

Jin turns to the side so he can squeeze through. He shimmies through the crevice until it becomes wider and wider, opening up to a hidden cave. Inside, there are foldable lawn chairs and a table. Lanterns illuminate the space with warm yellow light. 

Two other demigods are already seated in chairs; both look up as Jin enters.

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” Yoongi says while opening a can of coke. 

The other gives him a quick grin before looking back at a white, spiral bound notebook with “Spells and Things” written across the front in his own writing.

“Jungkook, how many times do I have to tell you that spell casting is prohibited in the secret fort. No one needs a repeat of last time,” Jin grumbles, still fighting the sleep behind his eyes.

“That was one frog one time! Besides, I’m just helping Jimin out with some booby traps he wants to set out in the fields. He’ll be by in a minute to tell me where he wants them.”

Jin wrinkles his nose, “He better come alone or with Taehyung. We don’t need any of Jimin’s demon spawn siblings finding out we hide in here during capture days.”

“Not all of the Hermes cabin seek out blackmail, Jin,” pipes up Yoongi who slurps from his can just because he knows Jin hates that sound. 

“Jimin is the cabin leader and is always digging through dirt to catch a worm, and he taught them all some of his secrets. Not all. But some. And that’s enough for me. I’d give Jimin whatever info he wanted but not his shadows,” Jin says, indignant. 

“Aw, Jin, that’s so lovely to hear, but only I get to talk trash about the Hermes Cabin,” comes a new voice right next to Jin.

Jin lets a squeak escape before turning and seeing Jimin standing there sporting a man-eating grin.

“Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.”

“Shut up, Yoongi,” Jimin directs, grin fading into a frown which just makes him look like a baby chick. “Jungkook,” Jimin says, turning to the boy now in his line of sight, “are they ready? I know the perfect spots, and the game is about to start.” 

“Hhm- Hecate never shared a spell that turns regular sand into quicksand, but I do have one that causes trees to ensnare people. You’ll just have to ask the dryads for permission first.” 

“Okay, sounds great, let’s go!” 

Jimin starts dragging Jungkook from his seat and they disappear through the opening. 

Jin plops into Jungkook’s now empty chair, and takes a bottle of water from the cooler between him and Yoongi. He looks around for the stash of snacks. 

Yoongi drags it from the other side of his seat and places it in front of the cooler, and Jin snatches a bag of crunchy hot Cheetos from the top and digs down to the bottom for a bag of sour gummy worms. 

They sit in comfortable silence waiting for capture the flag to begin outside while Jin eats his meal fit for a king.

Footsteps echo from the crack, and Jungkook returns with a Taehyung in tow. 

They both select a chair from the stack next to the wall and sit next to Jin and Yoongi. Both grab their own bag of chips and a drink, and that’s when the horn blows outside and war screams from various campers roar to life. 

They remain in their hideout. Jin listens to swords clacking against shields and other swords. Taehyung hums beside him as he licks chip dust from his fingers. They debate which X-Men character is the best, and how Days of Future Past completely erased everything the movie franchise had built which made all their other movies before it alternate realities. All in all, a pretty normal capture the flag day. 

Well, normal up until the chaos outside comes to an abrupt stop. 

The four boys look around at each other before looking once more at the opening. Jimin appears again which is odd since he never misses out on a chance at winning. 

“Mr.D and Chiron have ordered everyone to report to the fire pits immediately. Something about an important announcement,” he says.

They all stand and file out after Jimin. Jin is the last to emerge, and he sees Hoseok with a bow strapped across his chest standing next to Jimin and Namjoon adjusting his glasses close by. 

Jimin and Hoseok are murmuring to each other. Each of them wear a serious expression; probably trying to figure out what could cause an assembly in the middle of a mock war could be based on all the inside intel both make a point to know.

Jin trails after them as they lead the way back to the main camp area overhearing something about the gods being moody which isn’t a new thing. 

When they get there, Jin can see Mr.D’s stocky build and the back half of Chiron’s form on a platform usually reserved for music groups mostly composed of talented Apollo kids to the left of the fire pits. 

Mr.D stares over the heads of every camper present looking directly at them as their group joins the rest of the half bloods. Jin glares back. 

Dionysus looks away, scanning the forming crowd of campers. Once satisfied with the amount, he finally speaks. 

“Campers. Some of you may have already heard whispers, and I am here to shed- light- on what is happening.”

The god of camp counselors seems nervous to Jin. It’s an odd look on him.

Whispers come from behind Jin. He looks over his shoulder to where Jimin and Hoseok are still discussing, words muffled behind hands and eyes fixed on Mr. D.

Jin looks back as Dionysus continues. 

“This morning, Camp Half Blood was sent a letter from the gods via rainbow message,” he holds the paper up before him and reads it aloud. “Dear Dionysus, Chiron, and Half Blood Campers- Olympus has fallen.”

A murmur of concerns rise and fall throughout the demigods at attention. Jin looks back at Jimin and Hoseok; they do not look surprised in the slightest. 

Dionysus reads on, ignoring the shocked whispers, “One of our own, Bia, freed Prometheus from his imprisonment in the late hours of the night. Once free, Prometheus rewrote creation, making mortals known to the truth of their forthcoming. Due to collective belief, many gods have weakened, unable to bend the acts of humans to stay standing. I send this message with the last remnants of my abilities. On the back, we have written a quest. I hope this letter finds you well, signed Iris.” 

At the promise of a quest, every half blood awaits a possible chance at being a hero, something that flows in all of their blood- a shot at worth, honor, and victory. 

Mr. D turns the letter over and reads it’s contents, “Hi, Apollo here. The link with Delphi is all screwy so I’m just gonna throw it out there,” Dionysus frowns. “So, normally I’d give you like a haiku or whatever, but I’m not really in the mood. Anyways, the quest. The kid with god blood. You’re the lucky chosen one. And before anyone says that you all have god blood, put your hand down,” every Athena kid puts their hand down, including Joon who stands in front of Jin. “The only kid there with ichor, the true blood of the gods, that’s you pal. John Cook, you're the lucky new contestant on Poor Bastards Lucky Enough to Be Chosen come on down. Peace, Apollo.”

Dionysus reads that last part with zero pizazz. Every half blood present was lost by the reveal, all of them except for six who all turned to look at their friend seeing a 15 year-old kid looking up at the clouds with dark bangs falling in his doe eyes. 

Dionysus clears his throat before reading something else from the letter, “P.S. if you’re still confused, he’s a son of Hecate.” 

Jin looks up to find Mr. D looking their way again. He only focuses on one of them this time. 

“Jeon Jungkook, please join me and Chiron on the stage please.”

Everyone present turns to look at a confused Jungkook. Jin places a hand on his shoulder urging him to walk as other campers move to create a path. 

Jungkook looks back at Jin, not understanding because he wasn’t paying attention, “Jin, I’m not John Cook.”

Jin fixes the kid with an even look before walking forward, taking Jungkook along with him. He can feel the others’ presence trailing behind them. 

They make it to the stage, and Jin motions for Jungkook to walk up the three steps leading to the awaiting Dionysus and Chiron. 

Jungkook hesitates. He looks back at all of them, and they each motion him to go on. He finally does, standing next to Mr. D with barely visible shaking fingers. Jin thinks he looks like a cornered bunny looking for an opening to run.

Dionysus slightly pats Jungkook on the back, but it does little to reassure him. 

“Jungkook,” Mr. D says in a low voice that only he, and those closest can hear, “I know this is very sudden, but with the higher ups weakened like this, you’re what they need. With your abilities, and the blood gifted to you by Hecate herself, you are the only one that can fix what has been done. How? I don’t know. That’s for you to find out.”

Jungkook’s eyes leave Mr.D and look at Jin and the others in a silent plea for help.

Dionysus follows his gaze, and he and Jin make eye contact for the third time that day. He can see the conflict hidden in the creases between the god’s eyebrows. Dionysus has to say no. 

“We’re going with him,” Jin demands while taking a step closer in challenge, voice dripping with charmspeak, a gift bestowed to him from his mother granting him the ability to make anyone do what he wants by speaking it, even the gods if he does it right. 

Mr. D blinks, fighting the enchantment, “But there is no one else mentioned in the prophecy, and Jungkook isn’t the average halfblood.” 

“Seokjin,” Chiron offers from beside Dionysus,” careful.” 

The centaur knows it’s not completely sane for him to use charmspeak on a god, but Jin doesn’t give a damn. 

He digs deeper into his reserves, filling the power warming his chest, “That was not a prophecy. It was an empty fortune cookie. Every quest involves more than one demigod, and you know that. If Jungkook goes alone, it’s a death sentence. Especially with his- slight difference.” 

Jin has never thrown hands with a god before, but he knows for a fact it isn’t beneath him.

He sees the moment Dionysus loses his grip on his words. “Okay,” he says. “Jungkook you can take them with you. We’ve had luck with seven in the past.” 

Jungkook nods to the god and slowly steps down from the stage to worm his way in the middle of Jin, Yoongi, Hoseok, Namjoon, Jimin, and Taehyung. 

Dionysus says, “We can discuss the plan as soon as you all are ready to leave.” 

After that, Dionysus leaves, and everyone else starts to shuffle to somewhere that’s not there.

Jin stares at the spot where the god had stood for a few more seconds before turning.

Jungkook is still in the middle of them. His panic from before is gone, and he looks ready for anything. Jin knows that on the inside none of them are actually ready. After all, who ever wakes up and knows they have to pack up and walk into the mouth of a beast after a balanced breakfast of Cheetos and gummies. 

“Sorry,” Jin said while toeing at a rock half embedded in the dirt. “I volunteered everyone without checking, but I just figured-”

“That all of us were going to go one way or another no matter what,” Hoseok added and the others nodded in agreement. 

“Looks like we all need to go pack, huh,” Jungkook says, his nose and the tips of his ears turning pink as he tries to escape the center of attention. 

Jin and the others chuckle as Jungkook rushes off in the direction of the cabins. They all head that way as well naming off items all of them need to bring and who would have things they all could use. 

As he neared his cabin, Jin could already hear his half siblings giving him advice on what outfits he should bring even though he only needs the bare minimum- his bare minimum at least. 

_________________

Around the time Namjoon found out that his mom that left him and his dad when he was a baby was actually the greek goddess Athena, he had decided that there were no gods, just ideas of them. He had declared himself a spiritual person not a religious person.

He believed that there was something bigger out there, but it was more so in the realm of spiritual beings, kind of like Mother Nature or your own spiritual connection. He liked the ideas of Buddhism and Hinduism, and even admired some of the major religions like Judeo-Christian and Islamic teachings. A lot of religions echo each other and Namjoon wanted to learn about them, not believe in them. 

Greek mythology was an actual myth to him. The stories and lore were fun to study. 

It was all fiction until it became his reality. 

In one day, he was told that everyone else was right, and he was wrong. 

Greek, Roman, Egyptian, and Norse gods are all real, and if they’re real, then every single one ever worshipped has to be real in some way. 

He has seen demigods keep their monotheistic religions while still acknowledging their parentage. That was reason enough for Namjoon. 

There are gods out there, and he is half of one. 

He lives in the novel by Neil Gaiman, American Gods , where all gods exist no matter if anyone believes in them anymore. They were stuck on earth because humans had dragged them there, manifesting their stories and later rewriting them as make believe. The only real difference is that he’s not Shadow Moon; he is Kim Namjoon, and today he’s going to go help Jungkook save the Greek gods from becoming ghosts. 

Namjoon firmly believes that all world ends are connected across religious borders. If one falls, it becomes a domino effect, and it really will be over for everyone. 

He also thinks that the Greek gods have a bad habit of trying to end the world more than any of the others. 

Sometimes they need to be reminded that without earth they meet their end too in a way. 

Last night, Namjoon’s dreams were full of confusion and conflict. Before he woke up, he had looked at the earth as if he floated in space and watched it cave in on itself before expanding drastically and exploding into a nebula of pinks, oranges, and yellows. 

Even though Jungkook has been singled out, Namjoon plans to do all he can so that everyone can live in their reality without his gods ruining it like they always attempt to. He’s going to make sure that dream doesn’t come true.

He makes sure to throw a compass, a few maps, a tin water canister, and extra pairs of socks on top of a change of clothes, some wanted but not entirely needed extras and a few toiletries, including his contacts, backup contacts, and his glasses case, already tucked inside his crossbody bag that reminds him of a large fanny pack. 

He adds snack packets of trail mixes and assorted nuts as well as granola bars to the smaller pockets on the front of his pack.

The last thing Namjoon does before saying goodbye to his half siblings in the Athena cabin is change into shoes appropriate for a quest, ones with arch and ankle support. He deems his clothes fine enough. 

He and the other six had agreed on meeting close to the entrance to Camp Half Blood, so he makes his way there, stopping once to fill up his water bottle. 

When he gets closer to the entrance, he sees that Yoongi, Jimin, and Hoseok are already there. 

He can hear them bickering over how little Yoongi packed for the quest. 

“Yoongi you barely brought anything!” Jimin fusses while grabbing at the drawstring backpack of his. 

“I just packed what I needed,” Yoongi huffs while lightly smacking Jimin’s hands away. 

“I’m with Jiminie on this, Yoon. What’s even in there? It almost looks empty,” Hoseok adds.

Namjoon walks up to them just as Yoongi rolls his eyes. 

“I brought my toothbrush and an extra change of clothes. I even have my own water container. What else do I need?”

“Food for starters? And a weapon maybe?” Jimin asks offhandedly.  

Yoongi points to a silver chain around his neck, and then holds out his hands to show off a ring on both his middle fingers, “The Hephaestus kids and Jungkook helped me turn my sword, shield, and breastplate into jewelry last month. Remember?”

Jimin frowns in a pout, and Hoseok shrugs and says, “That’s a little better I guess.” 

“And I’m like 90% positive Jin and Jungkook are going to bring enough food to feed all of us so,” Yoongi adds while adjusting the straps of his bag to be even with one another. 

Namjoon has to give him that one. They all did really. Those two never go too far without a promise of a snack. 

As if on queue, Jungkook appears, jaw set in determination and a backpack bigger than he is misshapen in places from where he’s stuffed it full. 

Jin joins them not much later sporting a satchel and a backpack.

“Why do you always manage to overpack for literally everything, Jin,” Jimin says. 

Namjoon watches as Jin places a hand over the satchel hanging at his hip, seemingly making a mental inventory before answering. 

“Unlike some of you, I can’t simply shove things in my pockets and strap a pocket knife to my belt and call it prepared.” Namjoon notes how Jin may have said some of you but he’s only looking at Yoongi and his limited items. “I am but a complicated man and manage to bring everything I may possibly need. Blame it on my parentage or blame it on my above average skills at strategically packing it all in just two bags, either way I’m better than you.”

Hoseok and Jimin roll their eyes at the same time, and Namjoon could have told them both that’s exactly what Jin would say.

“Are we ready to go, now?” Jin grumbles.

“Taehyung isn’t here yet.” 

Namjoon hadn’t even realized Tae wasn’t there yet . The son of Demeter was usually so focused on listening, you would register his presence by him spontaneously being there. 

As they wait, Namjoon riffles through his bag, double, triple, and even quadruple checking specific things he needs. 

Glasses case: check. Allergy medicine: check. Instant coffee packs: check. Map: check. 

Namjoon is making sure he has at least two extra sock bundles at the bottom of his bag when Taehyung finally arrives. 

The first thing Namjoon notices is that the boy is barefooted. 

“Taehyungie, you did pack shoes, right?” He asks.

Tae nods and says, “Of course. They’re in my bag.”

Taehyung tugs at the strap over his shoulder. It’s the bag he made himself out of knockoff band tees besides the one front and center, the orange camp shirt. Namjoon can see the toe of a sneaker peeking out from the opening. 

“Great, now put them on.”

Taehyung’s entire being pouts. His mouth drops down; his shoulders fold in, and he gives Namjoon his saddest puppy eyes.

“But- I can’t hear the trees as easily with shoes on.”

Even Tae’s words pout.

“I know Tae. But I’m sure the trees would want you to wear shoes while we walk along the public road until we find a vehicle.”

Taehyung looks at his feet, wiggling his toes farther into the grass. He listens to what the trees have to say and sighs to himself. 

“What do they say?”

“They say to listen to Namu, so I can keep my listening feet safe.” 

“You didn’t bring socks did you?” 

“I hate socks more than I hate shoes.” 

Namjoon adjusts his glasses with a huff, “I know, TaeTae.”

Jungkook hands Tae a soft pink bundle of socks with a blushing strawberry on each ankle band, “Here Tae, you can have a pair of mine.” 

“I’d thank you, Kook, but these are garments of evil,” Tae says while taking them from him.

They all wait as he sits on the ground. He unfolds the socks, hitting them on his shin to smooth them out before placing each on one foot. Taehyung digs his brown converse shoes out of his bag. He slips them both on, tucking the laces into the shoes while singing the aglet song from Phineas and Ferb quietly under his breath.

Namjoon glares at the lack of tied shoelaces but let’s it go. He grunts when Tae folds the pink socks once so that the strawberries can be seen. 

Satisfied, he stands and dusts off his pants. Tae grips his bag and grins at Namjoon, ready to go.

Namjoon looks at the others, making sure they all were ready as well. He sees nods, a thumbs up, and sparks glittering in eyes. They were all as ready as they possibly could be. For Jungkook, for each other, for themselves, for their camp, and for the poor bastards that didn’t know what was happening, they must be. 

When the group is close to the border, Namjoon remembers that they were supposed to relay their plan to Dionysus. He stops walking, looking behind him in the direction of the big house. Jin clips his shoulder with his own, stopping just past him when he notices Namjoon’s hesitation. 

Joon turns and meets Jin’s eyes. They calculate for a second before getting why he stopped. He huffs a sigh, face blank. He doesn’t want to see Dionysus again. Jin and the god have never gotten along, but he’ll let Namjoon decide to go back or not.

“Something wrong, Namjoon?” Jungkook asks from behind him.

He can hear the telltale hint of nervousness hidden beneath the question. Any other god or goddess besides his mother has always set off Jungkook’s flight instinct for as long as Namjoon has known him. He doesn’t know the exact reason, but he can guess the kid had to run from monsters and deities alike when he was younger. 

“No. I just thought I forgot my glasses case.” He adjusts his bag, patting over the exact spot the case is tucked, “Good to go.”

Namjoon turns back around and continues walking, sending a small smile to Jungkook. The smile is returned up until Jin flicks him in the ear, and Jungkook shifts into fight mode. He and Jin square off. Jungkook manages to sneak a hand through Jin’s defenses, landing a smack to the side of his neck before bolting. 

They crash through the woods each taking turns hitting the other, Jin yelling and Jungkook cackling. 

They run right past the pine where the Golden Fleece hangs and Peleus coils around, copper scales glinting in the sun. The dragon puffs at the two streaking by. 

Namjoon pets the creature between its slit, yellow eyes, and Peleus grumbles a pur. He watches Taehyung bound up to the tree, placing a hand on its rough bark, an already bare foot resting at its roots, and laughing at whatever it says to him. Jimin and Hoseok team up to scratch the dragon’s tummy, earning another pur from Peleus and a slight tail wag. Yoongi feeds a snack sized Slim Jim to him as he passes, having apparently already raided one or both of the snackpackers’ bags. 

Passing through the barrier feels like nothing if you’re a demigod and pay no mind to it. Namjoon always focuses on it just because it amazes him. He can feel it pass over each and every molecule, making sure he is in fact at least half god or has been given proper clearance to both enter and exit the authorized area. 

It’s kind of like walking through a metal detector right before a concert. That mini panic that ricochets against your ribs when the possibility of a stray piece of metal might be tucked in a fabric fold or between the seams because of that tiny hole in your pocket. Sometimes Namjoon worries that the barrier won’t let him through. 

A slight tingle and he’s through, and so are the rest. Now, they are in the mortal realm where the boogie man hides under beds and nightmares crouch in shadows. No protective illusion hides their presence and scents and the air dips a few degrees. Namjoon thinks that maybe he should have brought a hoodie along. 

Walking through this part of the woods, everyone keeps alert. Namjoon keeps his fingers resting on the hilt of his dagger strapped to his thigh. He sees Yoongi fidget with his rings and Jimin keep at least one hand loosely placed around one of the twin blades crossed against his back. Branches, stems, and leaves bend toward Taehyung as he passes, offering help if he wants it. Jungkook twists a bundled smudge between his fingers, and Hoseok swings the arrow in his hand to the beat Jin taps on the sheath of his long sword.

They flinch at every leaf rustle and breaking twig, but nothing attempts to attack them. Which is weird considering they are seven teens reeking of human and god blood cocktails. 

The trees open up to a cracked road faded to an ash grey. The double yellow lines look like the mustard that dries to the top of the lid. They’re chipped, and there are a few reflectors missing from their center when Namjoon looks down it.

No cars drive by; both lanes remain barren, wondering why the seven children of the woods are just standing there staring instead of using one of them to walk on. 

Hoseok pipes up from somewhere down the line, “We’re not going to hitchhike, right? That’s how you get chopped up into segments and buried behind a billboard on the side of the interstate somewhere.”

They all turn to look at him. Namjoon can see his red hair over Yoongi’s beanie.

“We’re up against a Titan and his possible ensemble of monsters and you're worried about random trucker serial killers when we all have weapons?” Jimin retorts, waving a hand around. 

“I’m always worried about serial killers in general.”

“You’re an expert archer, Hobs,” Yoongi points out.

“You say that as if I have my bow and arrows on me at all times,” Hoseok huffs, crossing his arms and clacking the arrow in his hand against the bow strapped across his chest. 

“Don’t you though?” Jin says, leaning around Namjoon so Hoseok can see his point-making arched eyebrow.

Hoseok pouts at them all not willing to admit that his fear is a tad bit exaggerated, “I’m tired of this conversation.” 

He punctuates with a grunt as he steps onto the road and begins walking down it, passing them all. 

Jin shares a smirk with Jimin. Namjoon can see evil glee in their eyes; he hates it. 

“Jin and I can find us a ride, so we don’t have to worry about murderous truck drivers. We’ll keep our eyes open,” Jimin says while stepping onto the road and jogging to catch up to Hoseok who takes off running to make it hard on him. 

“Yeah, it’s been a while since Jimin and me- borrowed something.” 

Namjoon sighs. Jimin and Jin might get them arrested before they can save the world. 

“Shouldn’t we discuss what we’re doing first? Actually come up with a plan?” Namjoon asks any of them. 

“Did you really expect us to have an actual plan, Joon?” Jin says with a chuckle before speeding away.

“I for one would feel more comfortable with a plan so lay it on me.” 

Namjoon turns to Yoongi who hasn’t moved from the ditch line either. 

Namjoon looks at the others. Jungkook and Tae have silently slipped away as well, the thought of a plan boring them. 

He sighs deeply. They all thrive off various degrees of chaos, some more than others; his is just more strictly in line than theirs besides maybe Yoongi’s. 

“In short, I guess we find a ride, find Prometheus, and try our hardest not to get brutally killed between here and there.” 

Yoongi steps up on the road, leisurely walking in the direction the rest are trudging.

“That’s good enough for me.”

And then Namjoon is left standing in the ditch watching six lost boys walk in the direction of sudden doom in a half hazardous manner spread across the road, and he can’t help but feel like Peter Pan, responsible for them all. He just hopes it’s the family friendly Disney version and not the original weird version. 

If he thinks it through enough, they all make it. He just has to calculate the right instance in which they do. 

Namjoon steps onto the road, keeping an even pace just behind Yoongi. 

_________________

If a tree is killed before her nymph dies, the nymph will live out her life and at the end will return back to the earth to nourish more trees to come. 

But if a nymph dies before her tree, her essence returns to it. She and it become one. The nymph gives her tree energy and a voice; her tree gives her more time to soak up the sun and feel the caress of the spring winds she loves the most. 

When Taehyung first learned to walk, he heard the trees.

He knew their voices better than his father’s. They sang, giggled, and spoke to each other and to him. 

They spoke many languages and by ear, or foot, Taehyung spoke many, too, and what he didn’t pick up between conversations, the trees would translate for him. 

They claimed to know them all, every language ever created. They told him they had been there when the first language was spoken, and he believed them. Old and new, forgotten and made up, difficult and simple, the trees knew. 

He didn’t figure out his godly parentage until he was 13-years-old. Tae thinks it would have been nice to know from the beginning considering it wasn’t exactly easy growing up and trying to convince everyone that he did in fact hear trees and always felt a plant’s emotions with a simple brush of a finger or that he could start a small garden without seeds. 

His father and grandparents understood him as much as they could. Gods fail a lot of the time to give their mortal lovers a heads up before dumping a baby in their arms or in Tae’s case the cabbage patch. 

They homeschooled him until he begged to go to public school like a normal kid even though he wasn’t a normal kid. 

There, he kept quiet. 

He’d bring letters home from school that were complaints from teachers because Tae always had his shoes off which apparently isn’t appropriate class behavior. The trees would tell him his teachers would whisper that he was troubled, and he was troubled but not like the kind of “troubled kid” troubled they believed.

Taehyung never mentioned to anyone that the succulent on his math teacher’s windowsill was always sad or that the pea sprouts germinating under a light bulb in the science lab were perpetually confused. 

He barely knew anything about Greek mythology until a kid that reminded him of a baby duck marched up to him one day and told him he was a half blood.

Taehyung obviously didn’t know what a half blood was and quite frankly didn’t like how it sounded; so he kicked the kid in front of him with his bare foot, hurting himself more than the other boy. 

In the nurse’s office, Tae with an ice pack on his big toe and the boy named Jimin with a Hello Kitty bandaid on his shin, he found out what a half blood actually was while the front office lady called Tae’s dad who’s number was probably on speed dial by then. 

A demigod. He was half god, and some place called Camp Half Blood might be able to help make him feel less like those pea plants- trapped in a tray and held in place by plastic. 

Camp Half Blood did help. A lot in fact. 

There, Taehyung could be as weird and unconventional as much as he wanted because normal was on a whole different astroplane at camp. 

In the Demeter cabin, he actually makes sense. Plants have emotions. Everyone can call on a plant, and it will burst from the ground. Vines climb up bunk bed posts, and daisies poke through floor boards. Pots hang from the ceiling, overflowing and spilling over the sides with various kinds of flowers. Succulents line every windowsill. On the outside, moss coats the roof and tiny purple and white flowers dot through it. Flowering Mugunghwa shrubs grow on both sides of the entrance. Flower beds of wheat line the perimeter, and ancient weeping willows fan down behind the building. 

Tae finally felt like a tree rooted in the earth at Camp Half Blood instead of in a suffocating pot out there. 

Right now, however, he feels like someone plucked him up and stuck him in a vase. 

He doesn’t like vehicles. Hovering two feet off the ground felt weird and bored him. His mind only held his own thoughts which usually only happened before bed or when he was on solid flooring. The trees always make his thoughts exciting. They ask and tell him things and wait for him to reply, oo-ing over what he comes up with. One of the willows by his cabin likes to test his language skills giving mini quizzes over phrases. 

The trees are never intrusive. Tae lets them into his thoughts. They give him quiet when he wants or needs it, but for the most part he simply listens, tapping into their many conversations. 

While Jungkook charms one of Namjoon’s maps to show them the way to Prometheus, everyone discusses strategy, and well, Taehyung’s not much for battle anything. 

Survive. That’s his strategy. His best contribution to this team is standing by listening to the trees for information or listening to his friends as they walk through various scenarios.

Taehyung is not one to overly prepare. He likes to let things be as they are and figure it out in the happening. Probably not the best trait, but it’s worked for him so far. 

Later on and heading south, Taehyung studies the minivan Jimin and Jin borrowed from some nice lady who had stopped by offering a ride. Jin talked her into driving into the next town and calling her husband to come pick her up because she lost the van.

Namjoon is still quietly brooding over the ordeal after lecturing the two of them hours ago. He didn’t like “borrowing” things. Well, things from nice people.

Tae doesn’t really see a problem with it. She had offered a ride after all. It just so happened that they needed the actual ride instead of a small trip to the nearest bus station. 

She would be fine. It was just a car. Something easily replaced, but also easily flagged as stolen by the police according to Namjoon. 

Taehyung can tell the lady has kids. There are crumbs and wrappers in the cracks beneath the seats, and it smells odd like multiple things spilled on the carpet and scrubbed up with different cleaners. The cup holders are sticky. The one next to Tae has a half eaten sucker in it starting to melt to the bottom. 

Best part of the van is that it comes with mini tv screens and movies to watch on their road trip. 

Taehyung feels bad for Yoongi. He can’t watch Barbie of Swan Lake with them, but he was the only one with actual driving experience. 

Hours upon hours later and halfway through The Princess Bride they make a pit stop at a weathered gas station somewhere in West Virginia down past Point Pleasant, the home of Mothman according to Jungkook, but far enough away from Kentucky’s border that Jin is okay with being there. 

All of them needed to pee and the bathrooms were both one seaters. So, they overtook both of them. Taehyung received a glare from an old lady across the snack isles when he emerged from the women’s room. A toilet was a toilet, and he made sure to leave the seat down. He smiles at her, but she averts her gaze. Pity. 

All of them scan over foods and drinks made to preserve through the end of time; Jin and Jungkook pick out the few things they didn’t already have packed in the van, and each of them get a cheap, canned drink, meaning six cokes and a sprite. 

While they’re being ringed up, the cashier looks at them oddly as if he can see that they’re all armed to the teeth with weapons, but Taehyung knows that the mist is strong and this kid didn’t look like he was the type to see through it. 

There’s a small tv behind the kids shoulder. Emergency broadcasts stream across the screen, and a reporter talks aggressively into the camera. The subtitles across the bottom mention odd weather conditions that basically consist of there being no weather. Oceans lay flat. The summer crops all crumbled overnight. Whispers and rumors of conflicts both national and global have erupted. The world is restless. All of them feel cheated and lost and have no idea why, and it’s because the Greek gods screwed them over. 

They’re receipt is printed; Jin takes it and their change, and they shuffle out the door. 

Yoongi grumbles a “Shit.” as the bell on the door dings their exit. 

Tae bumps into Yoongi at the same time he speaks and looks up to see the reason for the alert. 

An unmarked police car is parked in the space right next to the van. The window on the driver’s side is rolled down, and an officer is looking hard at the van, probably thinking it looks familiar. 

The seven of them stop in a clump in front of the doors, overly obvious yet not willing to approach. 

Taehyung slips away, headed for the grassy spot closest to him. 

He shoves one shoe and sock off and plants his food as near to the soil as he can get. 

Root roadways weave deep under the ground and he taps in, searching for what he wants. 

He hobbles back over to them, and Namjoon visibly blanches at seeing his naked foot touching the pavement.

“There’s a state park a few miles down the road. We can use it to dump the van and lose attention,” Taehyung says.

Namjoon is still looking at his feet, bothered. Yoongi nods and starts toward the van again. 

“Do we just get in while he’s sitting there?” Hoseok whispers. 

Jimin speaks in a low voice directed to the group, “Everyone get in on one side; Namjoon, you can hunch in between the middle seats and get in your seat when we pull away if you want, but he’ll most likely try to talk to you if you walk around to get in. Talk like we know what we’re doing and where we’re at. Be confident and it can throw him off. Jin can talk to him if need be.” 

Tae sees Jin scrunch his nose, but he doesn’t say anything. He will if he needs to, but he’s not gonna like it.

They start throwing in conversations as they near the van, laughs reasonably even and no nervous glances are flicked to the car next to theirs. 

Yoongi clicks the unlock button and the van beep beep ’s. The side door slides open and they all climb in. They’re barely seated, and Yoongi already has it thrown into reverse, backing out. 

A minute down the road passes, and Tae sees Yoongi’s eyes glare into the rear view mirror. 

They have a shadow. 

The van is quiet as Yoongi flips the blinker on and turns into the park entrance Tae points out to him. A teller stops them and takes 7 dollars from them. Yoongi moves on at a pace probably not aligning with park safety, and quickly pulls into a parking space at the park’s main parking lot. 

They all grab their bags and pour out of the van knowing it wouldn’t be long until their shadow caught up.

Tae tears off his other shoe and sock and shoves them into his bag next to the other. 

Tiny pebbles and dried pine needles poke into his feet. Although asphalt muddles his ability to hear trees, any time he steps on a crack he gets a burst of voices, jumbled and without focus. There’s trees and bushes next to the visitor’s center, and he runs for them. As soon as he steps on the soft earth, he’s told to go to the Star Cave. 

Taehyung motions for the rest to follow him, and together they file one at a time down the narrow path marked with a sign at its mouth reading “Star Cave Trail” with a small ( Unguided Visits Prohibited After Sundown) hand painted beneath it. 

With dark earth between his toes, leaves in his hair, and fresh air in his lungs, Taehyung is the most centered and comfortable he has been the entire road trip. 

All the trees are talking about the seven demigods running between them, and they seem delighted to know a son of Demeter is amidst them. 

The trees tell Tae that the path leads to a deep cave a mile from the parking lot. It’s large enough for them to camp in and not worry about disturbing the wildlife and foliage and their habitat.

He slows to a walk as they make it closer to the cave feeling out for other possible presences but is warned of nothing. 

The path becomes more narrow as they pick their way around a ridge and over a small incline. They descend down natural stairs woven by tree roots and walk around part of a jutting rock bluff. 

On the other side, the bluff dips inward and a rock face stretches away from them. Shelves in the rock hold small beds of little sandwart flowers. 

A man made walkway runs along the base of the rock allowing easy passage to the mouth of the cave Taehyung can just see on the other end of the wall. 

A spring trickles from the rock at the start of the wooden walkway creating a creek that winds its way underneath it and veering off to the right to pass in front of the cave opening. 

Sweet smelling Rhododendrons in full bloom stake land down the right side of the creek; their white and pink petals lazily float down it. 

Safe. Everything tells him that they’re safe here for now. 

Hoseok passes by him with an “Oo! So pretty!” before running down the walk way pointing at everything and nothing with Jungkook on his heels doing the same. 

Yoongi follows after their loud astonishment in an even walk with a studious focus; Jimin and Namjoon head straight to the cave to make sure it’s suitable. 

“Hey, Tae, what are these called?” 

Taehyung turns to see Jin crouched over a single flower nestled in the damp dirt. 

“It’s a pink lady slipper; orchid family,” Tae says while joining Jin.

“Looks like an alien. I dig it.”

Taehyung delicately touches the protective leaf that umbrellas over the flower. 

He chuckles. The lady slipper is flustered.

“You’ve wooed a flower, Jin. It’s practically blushing.” 

Jin shoots the flower a finger gun and a wink before moving to a bush with blooms shaped like pom-poms or fireworks drooping into the creek. 

“And this?” Jin asks again, poking one of the blooms.

“That is a buttonbush. It has a toxin in the bark that has paralyzing qualities when consumed.”

Jin retracts his poke and says, “And that’s enough exploration for today.” 

He shoots a side glance at the buttonbush before scampering away to join Jimin and Namjoon setting up for the night. 

Before Taehyung helps them out, he returns back to the trail leading to the main park area. He steps on the worn ground cutting through greenery. He closes his eyes and digs his toes into the dirt using the overlapping tendrils of roots underneath it to pinpoint his last footsteps on the way here. New shrubs, flowers, grasses, and mosses spring up in every one of his footprints, and when he opens his eyes, he’s greeted with a pathless forest. 

__________________

The thing about being a demigod is that it’s hard even with a loving mortal parent there and willing to take care of a kid half himself and half otherworldly. 

But sometimes. Sometimes the half blood is left with just the godly parent to depend on, and when that happens and they’re not one Jeon Jungkook, then they find themselves drifting through the foster care system or the streets until they (hopefully) stumble upon Camp Half Blood. 

A trait Jimin received from Hermes is the ability to recall details of things he was present for. As a child of a messenger god, it was a given to hold an abundance of information. 

So, for Jimin, he can remember the day Hermes bundled him in soft, blue cotton stitched together with silver thread and left him tucked in a white basket and sitting on the doorstep of his mortal dad’s.

Jimin had been staring at the porcelain stork hanging from the woven handle over him when the door opened, and a man with his eyes and nose loomed over him.

It wasn’t long after that Jimin found himself screaming in a nursery at the nearest hospital awaiting social services to pick him up.

Now older, Jimin could get why a big shot lawyer who had already started his family didn’t want a mystery child from a random one night affair with a Greek god. Jimin just wished he had at least made it easier on him. 

At least his dad had given him a name before leaving, or more accurately, Jimin took his Park and Jimin from one of his favorite nurses that gave him a stuffed baby chick before he was sent off to his first foster home. 

He was passed from home to home. Each new family had too many fosters than they knew what to do with. It was rare to find anyone willing to foster for the sake of fostering instead of for the funding. Plus it was easier to dump the younger kids on the older ones. 

It was even rarer to get adopted. A kid with a disdain for listening and a terrible case of dyslexia and ADHD that stood the test against bedtime pills with a habit of sticky fingers wasn’t exactly on anyone’s top pick list. 

School months were blurs of having to sit still and act like he knew what was happening even though he really really wanted to. For some reason academics were not on his information absorbing radar.

Summers consisted of various camps or any other week long, or longer, getaways that got Jimin out of the house.

He remembers one summer where he ran away from one of his foster homes armed in pjs with rubber ducks on them and a jelly sandwich tucked away in a plastic baggie. 

Another year he had begged to go along with one of his older foster siblings. She had talked about Camp Half Blood so fondly. She called it a home away from home. Plus it was one camp all summer long which sounded amazing.

She had told him that only a select few could go to this specific camp, but that he could try if he wanted. 

So he did. Marched straight through the front entrance and kept going until silver light appeared above his head. He had looked up to see the top of Hermes’s Caduceus floating above his head, it’s wingspan matching the width of his small shoulders and two snakes, mouths agape and chasing each other around his head.

Jimin was eight at the time and has been at CHB ever since. 

He had been on a few smaller quests growing up, camper recruitment but nothing world saving. So there was an element of newness even for him. 

He’s stoking the fire, watching the embers shoot up towards the star freckled night sky above. 

The others were seated all around the fire as well, lazily slouched in place or using one another to prop up with sandwiches resting in their stomachs; eyelids drooped gazing into the flames or flicked up collecting the stars in their irises. 

Jimin cleared his throat to capture their attention and said, “So, are how close are we to Prometheus now?”

He watches as Joon takes the map from his pocket, unfolding it in his lap. The enchantment Jungkook had placed on it earlier flickers to life drawing a path from their cave to wherever the titan claims as his dwelling. 

Numbers write themselves over the top of the map.

“At least another day’s travel now that we’re on foot. Although, his location doesn’t stay in the same exact place. He’s moving just as much as we are.”

Seokjin groans from across the fire pit. He slowly slips to the soft dirt in a huff. 

Tomorrow is going to be a long day. 

“So,” Jungkook pipes up from beside Jimin, “Am I supposed to be like the main character of an anime?”

Jimin lets a puff of air through his nose at Jungkook’s question.

Hoseok leans forward from the other side of Jungkook, bending almost at a 90 degree angle so he can show him the squint of his eyes. He says,“Jungkook, you’re the only demigod that has ever been raised by their godly parent and has literal ichor flowing through your veins. Chosen one material even.”

“Like Harry Potter?” Jungkook asks, arching an eyebrow.

Yoongi grunts from his spot across from Jungkook, “Harry Potter isn’t real.” 

“To the rest of the world, neither are we,” offers Tae whose head is resting on Jimin’s shoulder. 

“We are like Harry Potter,” Jimin adds. “We’re the kids forced to save the world, and the gods are all collectively our J.K. Rowling.” 

“Mm- I don’t want to be Harry Potter.” 

Jungkook fidgets with the ends of his sleeves. 

“You’re not Harry Potter. You’re Jeon Jungkook,” Jin says while squinting up at the cave’s roof.

Namjoon lifts his eyes from the map across his knees to fix them on Jungkook. He pushes his glasses back into place and says,“We’re all pieces of this puzzle. You just happen to be the finishing piece. You don’t have to be the chosen one just because the gods tell you to be. All you have to do, Jungkook, is be a member of this team, and help us fix what the gods screwed up. You have us, and we’re not going to let you walk alone. Together we are seven.” 

Jungkook stops wringing his hoodie paws and peeks up, meeting reassuring gazes and nods all around.

“Actually, there are hundreds, maybe even thousands, of us,” Seokjin says, still squinting into the cave.

Hoseok squawks “B-bats? Like bats?? Do you see bats!??” and practically climbs in Jungkook’s lap causing them both to teeter into Jimin and Tae, toppling them all over like dominoes. 

“Do I see bats? No. But I do see why they named this place the Star Cave.” 

“Jin. Can you be less ominous with your choice of phrasing and cryptic lack of details?” Jimin grumbles while dislodging Jungkook’s elbow from his ribcage. 

“Glow worms” is all Jin offers.

“Glow worms,” Hoseok repeats, still alert but less panicked and detaching himself from Jungkook’s arm. 

“The cave is dotted with little glow worms,” Jin finalizes while pointing to them.

Jungkook gasps. “Really?!”

He untangles from Hoseok and hurries over to the walls of the cave to get a closer look. 

Taehyung follows soon after with a protesting Hoseok in tow. 

“Welp. Now that serious time is over,” Jimin says while dragging his backpack over to him. “I brought marshmallows.”

“You brought marshmallows?” Yoongi asks.

“Of course! I always brings marshmallows when camping,” Jimin throws back with a grin stretching his cheeks.

“This isn’t camping.”

Jimin looks around at the sleeping bags, small fire, and backpacks, “Then what do you call this?”

Yoongi opens his mouth but pauses. Taking a glance at their set up he says, “Okay maybe it is camping, but it’s unplanned camping. You didn’t know to bring marshmallows specifically for camping.” 

“Maybe you didn’t plan for camping, but Jiminie always plans for every possible change of plans like camping,” he says while ripping a hole in the top of the marshmallow bag.

Yoongi just rolls his eyes. Jimin has him there.

“So how many do you want?” 

Jimin tilts his head, shooting a smirk Yoongi’s way.

Without hesitation, Yoongi lifts two fingers up, and while Jimin digs for two marshmallows, he lowers one to leave a single middle finger up in their place. 

Jimin glares at him. Two marshmallows hit Yoongi in the face, and he manages to scoop them up before they hit the dirt.

“I want one,” Namjoon says while raising a hand.

Jimin tosses him a single marshmallow.

“Want any, Jin?” Jimin asks while grabbing himself two out of the bag.

Jin holds his hands up and makes grabby hands. Jimin throws him the entire bag.

Jimin, Yoongi, and Namjoon wait for their marshmallows to toast over the fire while Jin pops one after the other into his mouth. 

Jimin watches his white blob of sugar caramelize around the edges to a perfect golden brown; somewhere in the back of the cave Hoseok is yelling at Jungkook and Taehyung to stop crawling underneath the rock shelves to get closer looks at the glow worms. 

A bag of marshmallows later and it’s time for bed.

Yoongi fell asleep half a hour ago, curled up like a cat with his knees tucked almost to his chin. Jungkook throws a thin blanket over him as he and Jimin bunch together makeshift pillows out of their backpacks. 

Tae and Hoseok huddle close by so that they can block out the chill of the cave. Jin and Namjoon don’t exactly join the cuddle bundle but lay nearby. 

Jimin snuggles into his backpack. He tries to slip into a state of unconsciousness. He can hear the others’ breaths even out as they get there before him. 

Jimin is used to the noise and bustle of New York City after dark. Car horns, screeching tires, wailing sirens, someone yelling a block down the sidewalk, and music blaring two apartments up. Even camp was always humming with some type of sound at all times with songs around the fire pits until dawn, nocturnal cabin inhabitants, and campers getting night training in. 

Here it was too loud and too silent all at once. The dripping of water echoes in the cave. The small creek babbles and bibbles over rocks. Small creatures poke around the corners of the cave and scratch over the walls. Tree frogs and cicadas scream from the trees. An owl hoots a haunting call into the darkness. Leaves crunch and the brush whispers as things pass through. Something that sounds strangely like one of Jungkook’s Bigfoot documentaries bellows from a distance, and coyotes yip in challenge. 

Jimin sighs and rolls onto his back careful not to jostle the limbs thrown over him. He stares up at the roof of the cave. With the fire dimmed to smoldering coals, the cave top glitters with a galaxy of glow worms. 

He focuses on each individual bioluminescent gnat larvae (according to Namjoon) and counts them one at a time. 

Jimin makes it to three hundred and seventy something before drifting into a sleep limbo. Not really deep sleep and not really fully aware, something in between and unsettling. Restful yet fitful. He gets random flashes of dream clips. Nothing solid or complete. There’s glimpses of him running through the woods. Red blood runs between fingers. Scales, feathers, and claws ghosting his skin, and the faint stench of rotting dumpster feels his dream senses. He sees himself reflected in the creek just outside the cave. His features are dirtied and bruised. He hears his own voice telling him to wake up but the reflection’s lips don’t move. Something crashes into the water's surface.

And Jimin jolts awake with that feeling of falling your brain tricks you into experiencing just to make sure you're not dead. 

It’s quiet except for the breathing and small snores around him. 

His eyes readjust to the darkness and for a second he forgets he’s in a cave. He squints at the faux stars above. 

He carefully lifts his head to peek over Jungkook’s shoulder to see out of the mouth of the cave. The sky is beginning to lighten with the first hint of dawn. 

Calm. Everything is calm. Strangely calm like when you walk down the empty halls of a hotel in the middle of the night and feel like the only one there. 

Jimin notices that the frogs and cicadas have stopped singing over one another. 

Tae shifts in his sleep next to Jimin. He kicks his feet out and digs his toes into the dirt. He grunts and Jimin looks down to see his eyes roll back and forth under his eyelids. 

Jimin jumps when Taehyung bolts up right, half asleep but with pupils blown wide. 

He grabs Jimin by the sleeve, yanking it abruptly. 

“What is it, TaeTae?” Jimin whispers.

Taehyung is staring past Jimin through the cave opening and into the waning night. He digs his heels further into the ground and frowns. 

“Monsters.”

And that’s when Jimin can hear trees cracking and falling down somewhere in the darkness.

They can’t see what it is, but it’s gaining ground quickly. 

Jimin and Tae look at each other before jostling those closest to them awake and whisper yelling to Jin and Namjoon. 

Jimin crawls as quickly and quietly as possible for his twin swords tucked close to where he had been sitting by the fire earlier. 

When he palms their hilts and feels their grip customized just for him, the panic nipping at his throat retreats. 

He can hear the others shuffling behind him brandishing their own weapons and trying to process what’s happening. 

The bushes and tall grasses just on the other side of the creek start to quiver and snap as figures emerge from them. Hissing and grunts make it to Jimin’s ears. 

A Chimera leads the group of monsters. It’s Lion head dips low to the ground sniffing out their scents. It’s goat head poking from the back of its neck bleats, not seeming to like being upside down; it’s rectangular pupils soak up their new view. They stare right through Jimin unable to make him out against the blackness of the cave. The chimera’s snake tail swings back and forth testing the air with its tongue. When the lion head raises, mouth open for better smell, it stops. Golden eyes flick to meet Jimin’s. This pair is not deterred by darkness. 

Jimin sucks in a breath as the chimera growls. It’s low and deep. Smoke tendrils puff from its nostrils; his blood threatens to chill, and he wills it to behave. 

A dracanae melts into the faint light from behind the chimera. Jimin blinks and two more women with twin snake tails appear on the other side of the hulking lion head.

Jimin tightens his grip. They already know their location so he lifts his chin. A challenge. 

The chimera takes a step into the creek; it’s large paw splashes loudly in the silence, and Jimin recognizes the image and sound from his dreams. 

The chimera snarls, and a glinting stream whizzes by Jimin’s ear. An arrow embeds itself in one of the chimera’s lion eyes. The lion grumbles a clipped roar, the goat head screeches, and the snake hisses. A stream of fire shoots into air.

One of the dracanaes wields a bow of her own and sends an arrow flying back as her sisters charge, their snake tails gliding lightly over the rocks and earth. 

Jimin charges, too, giving a growl of his own as he deflects the arrow meant as payback for Hoseok and sprints towards the snake lady closest to him. 

She’s closer than he thinks. So instead of meeting her blade, he smacks the dull side of one of his swords against her wrist and crashes his shoulder into her chest sending them both sprawling against the rocks and dirt. 

Jimin uses the force of the fall to roll into a crouch. He looks up in time to see Jin slam his broadsword against one of the other dracanaes, sending her longbow flipping through the air in splinters. 

Yoongi meets the third one with his shield to her chin causing her to bite her own tongue in two. She spits rank, black blood into his face, and Yoongi bares his teeth. 

Hoseok and Namjoon stand shoulder to shoulder taking and losing steps as the chimera swipes it’s claws and breathes fire at random. Hoseok has taken both it’s lion eyes out now, and the goat looks for it. 

Tae builds a small fortress of poisonous thorned trees and vines around him and Jungkook as the latter writes symbols on the ground and chants under his breath. 

Jimin rounds back on the dracanae after him. She’s scraping claw tipped fingers against the flat rock they are both on. Her weapon was thrown askew from his shoulder check, she snarls and green venom seeps from fangs punching through her gums. 

She swipes one of her tails out for him, and Jimin barely manages to jump over the attack but catches the second one. His legs are swept out from under him, and the dracanae lunges her torso as he falls. He swings a blade out, connects, and follows through with the other. 

A gash smears across her mouth and another opens across her ribs. She jerks, the tail wrapping around his legs constricts abruptly, and her mouth falls open at an odd angle pouring black garbage smelling sledge all over him before she crumbles. 

Jimin claws his way out of her convulsing tail, and looks around for his next move. 

The other dracanae are also down, fading into sludge pools like the one next to Jimin’s feet. Everyone has ganged up on the chimera. 

A thick root has it’s snake’s body tail pinned to one place, slowly winding up the chimera's body, Taehyung’s brow is pinched in focus and covered in sweat with the effort. Jungkook stands beside him, eyes glowing purple. Chains the same hew wind around the chimera’s middle. Somehow Jin has made his way on the hulking creature’s back. His sword is missing but he seems to be in an intense screaming match with the goat head, trying to get to the arrows in the lion’s eyes while evading goat bites. The lion’s head is pincushioned with arrows. It’s hide seems to be too thick to fully get through. Yoongi, and Namjoon are brainstorming possible weak spots while dodging spews of fire, and Hoseok seems to be trying to find Jin’s sword somewhere in the bushes. 

Jimin moves to help, going for the back with Jin, but hesitates when a black silhouette rockets across the now peaching sky. 

He looks up and sees the creature flap its scraggly wings, and then it dives straight for Jungkook and Taehyung. 

Jimin yells a warning at the same time pain bursts across his shoulder blades and his feet no longer purchase footing. 

He grunts, stunned at first, and then flails, ignoring the sear of claws digging deeper into his flesh. 

He swings a blade up and manages to nick his captor. It screeches and lets him go, but not before he gets a mouthful of feathers that taste like rotten meat and ash. 

He hits the ground hard enough for the wind to wheeze from his lungs. He splutters for a second, taking in gasps of air. 

He hears a scream before seeing Taehyung being thrown across the air. The plants reach out for him too late, and he hits a solid tree trunk, landing in a heap on its roots. They grow around him protectively, but he doesn’t stir. 

Jimin gets his feet back under him, keeping one eye on the sky while also doing a quick head count. 

Jin is still on the chimera, clinging on as it bucks around half crazed. Namjoon and Yoongi are trying not to get trampled while also avoiding the furies cackling and grabbing for their heads. Hoseok is missing, and Jungkook is kneeling on the ground, liquid gold bleeding from his arm but keeping a hold on the chimera now without Tae’s help.

Jimin’s next step? The one particular fury that has thoroughly pissed him off. 

He twists his blades, loosening the tension in his wrists and shoulders. Warm blood trickles down his back as he zeroes in on the vulture hag whose nails are painted in Jimin Crimson. 

She’s stopped paying him any attention after dumping him, and she just so happens to have a pattern she flies to terrorize Namjoon and Yoongi with. 

Jimin cracks his neck and takes a quick breath before sprinting straight for Yoongi. 

There’s a blindspot to her circling when she lifts herself from diving at Joon and grins before turning on Yoongi. 

He closes in and screams, “Yoongi! Airlift!” 

Yoongi takes his attention away from the fury. His eyes blow wide when he sees Jimin running at him full speed like a madman, but he listens to Jimin’s request, dropping close to the ground with his shield braced on his shoulder. 

Jimin leaps, and when his feet connect with Yoongi’s shield, he pushes off at the same time Yoongi shoves his shield up.

Jimin soars into the sky. The fury has just lifted herself from slashing at Namjoon. She turns with a sinister smile plastered on her wrinkled face that falls when Jimin mirrors it now at eye level. 

Jimin tucks his legs giving the illusion that he’s suspended and swings. 

Twin blades are meant to be two halves of one sword. They connect with their side of the furies neck, ripping through flesh and sinew and bone to form one sword in the middle for a fraction of a second before cutting clean and ending up two halves again on their opposite sides. 

Gravity takes over, and Jimin plummets back to the earth for a second time, having Yoongi to land on this go around.

Yoongi squawks as Jimin lands back on his shield. They both crash on the ground with the fury’s head hitting Yoongi in the chest and her body smacking the ground next to them. 

Yoongi lifts the decapitated head and throws it to the side before it can dissolve into muck all over him. 

The other fury screams in rage and dives for them both.

Half way down a dagger hilt buries itself to the hilt mid feathery chest. And the second fury lands with a thud just shy of Jimin’s feet. 

He looks up to Joon staring at his own hand as if surprised he just did that. 

Jimin scrambles off of Yoongi as the chimera he’d forgotten about for just a second screams in all three of its voices sounding like a demon from the underworld itself. 

He here’s a “Gahhhgg” off to the side.

Jimin watches Jungkook’s purple chains flicker and break as their caster slumps to his hands. Nothing is holding down the chimera as it swings its body back and forth. Jin somehow manages to stay on. The chimera’s snake head tipped tail starts viciously biting at Jin, but with the sporadic movement it misses and sinks its fangs into itself. 

The chimera shudders and screams even louder. 

Foam starts dripping from the lion’s maw, and the creature wails in delirium, throwing fire at anything and nothing. 

As Jimin decides it’s time to throw himself into the fight again, Hoseok bursts from the brush from behind. He has his bow gribbed in one hand and Jin’s two handed broadsword in the other. 

“Jin!” Hoseok yells as he chucks the sword towards its wielder. 

Hoseok knocks two arrows in one swift go, and sends them flying into the chimera’s neck side by side. 

The chimera whirls his direction, unknowingly helping Jin reach for his sword. 

The son of Aphrodite flips his broadsword so he can grip it properly, lifts it over his head, and plunges it into the goat head’s open mouth and twists. 

The chimera stiffens and collapses. 

___________________

The phrase “flirting with death” is meant for the risk takers. The ones that look at the possibility of death, weigh the probability of actually dying, and choose to roll the dice not caring or refusing to believe they will die. 

For Yoongi’s mother, it meant the actual action. Laying on the verge of wilting like a summer flower, here one day and gone the next, she had looked death in his dark eyes and asked him if he was an angel. 

She made the deity chuckle, and when death laughs out of enjoyment, a miracle happens.

The withering flower once drooping toward the earth from whence it came blushed back to its vibrancy and perked up, preening in the sunshine. 

The doctors had called it a medical marvel. Some even dared to venture into an act of divine intervention. And it was. Both one and the same.

Not only did Yoongi’s mom flirt with death, she dated him on and off for years. 

Thanatos could only stay in places for so long until he was called away to reap another soul and send it on its merry way to the Underworld. 

What no one expected was for death to help create life.

Yoongi was an anomaly. 

A mortal woman and the embodiment of death was never supposed to conceive a child. But maybe it was just another miracle. 

Although Yoongi has never actually had a father and son bonding moment, he does know what his dad looks like. 

Any time a death occurred nearby, which happened more often than Yoongi liked to admit, he’d catch a glimpse of a man dressed in white and black with long dark hair and equally dark eyes that always caught the light with a gleam. 

Yoongi looks a lot like his mom. Same lynx eyes, petal lips, and a nicely rounded nose. But he thinks he sees the same gleam in his eyes on his reflection sometimes. 

Other than having a sixth sense for death, Yoongi can also see life forces. He sees colors around people like auras. The more lively the person the brighter the color, and the more they fade the dimmer their color becomes.

He had a fairly calm childhood considering he was a demigod. The only bullies he encountered were mortal kids he went to school with. He spent multiple weeks in alternative school for getting into fights. Monsters in man made his life a little hard. The education system was rigged to set up anyone with a wandering attention span to fail. His mom had to work two jobs to get them by, and the government didn’t like them that much. 

Monsters that crawled through nightmares and hid in your deepest fears never showed up from what Yoongi can remember. Maybe it had something to do with being the son of Thanatos. No one liked to mess with death, not even monsters. 

When Camp Half Blood found him, he threw himself into combat and weapon training and had a cabin all to himself up until Jungkook moved in, not liking rooming with his half siblings that seem to hold a grudge for being less favorited by their mother. 

At camp, they teach you that every half blood comes prepackaged with dyslexia and ADHD. In the mortal realms, these are considered burdens, dysfunctional mishaps, flaws. Out there they force you to get over them, but in the demi realm, they’re strengths and are praised as such. 

Dyslexia allows half bloods to understand Ancient Greek writings, and ADHD keeps you moving and can be the difference between a fatal blow and a precisely timed sidestep.

When the chimera falls and melts into a cesspool, the adrenaline thrumming through Yoongi’s system subsides. The fight instinct lumbers back into the recesses of his mind, and he stands there regaining his breath. 

As his heartbeat calms to a somewhat even rhythm, he feels Taehyung’s and Jungkook’s weak energy. Not exactly on the brink of death but also not exactly the picture of health either. 

He looks for them. 

Jimin with a pulsing sunset orange glow is attempting to pry the roots and branches cocooned around a still knocked out Tae whose green halos around his head. 

He sees Jungkook sitting a little ways off, frozen from shock and the loss of adrenaline. His purple is darker than usual, and gold blood is streaming from a gash across his upper arm.

Yoongi forces himself up on shaky legs and makes his way over to him.

“Jungkook you’re bleeding!” He grabs Jungkook’s hand and slaps it over the cut. “Here, hold pressure on that while I get Hoseok.”

He leaves Jungkook in his stiff stupor, and looks around trying to spot Hoseok’s bright yellow.

Yoongi sees a splash of periwinkle, Namjoon is close by sitting cross legged and dabbing at claw marks on his neck. 

Jin and his powder blush pink appears by his side wiping chimera blood off his sword. 

Yoongi passes them by and finally finds Hoseok, but stops when he sees him hastily wrap a cut across his own forearm. Yoongi can see Hoseok’s medic bag open beside him, full of supplies. 

He hurries over to Hoseok and grabs one of the rolled up bundles.

“I got Jungkook. Check on Tae. He's still out.” 

Hoseok gives a quick nod as he scrubs at his dirtied hands with hand wipes. 

Yoongi runs back to where Jungkook is still sitting.

“I’m going to have to bandage you up. Hoseok’s occupied right now.”

He looks up and sees Jungkook blankly staring, hand slipping down his arm smearing gold. His energy is clawing at the air; lips turning blue around the edges.

“Jungkook? Jungkook!” Yoongi scrambles to his side and shakes him a little causing the boy to snap out of it and back into active panic once again, almost hyperventilating having been holding his breath. “Hey! Jungkook- Jungkookie calm down!” He grabs the sides of Jungkook’s face to make him look him in the eyes. “Deep breaths. It’s over now.” 

Yoongi moves one hand to hold pressure on the gash on Jungkook’s arm.

Jungkook mumbles something that sounds like “safe” while staring at the golden blood leaking through Yoongi’s fingers where he had a hand clasped over the wound. 

Yoongi peeks at the cut and hums in question at the mumbles waiting for Jungkook to speak, but his big eyes seem glossed over again,“You’re going to need stitches, Kook.”

He looks over his shoulder and sees that Taehyung is awake. There’s a cut over his eyebrow and he seems dazed, but he’s talking at least. The emerald green is wrapped tightly next to his body, a sign of healing. 

Hoseok is checking his pupils for signs of concussion with a keychain light. 

“Hey, Hoseok! Jungkook needs stitched up when you’re ready.”

Hoseok shoots him a thumbs up.

“Hoseok will be here soon, Jungkookie. You’ll be okay until then.”

He unravels the bandage he grabbed, and does a quick work of tying it around Jungkook’s arm. The cut is too deep and the bandage too thin, but it helps a little. Yoongi keeps pressure on it.

Yoongi looks up and Jungkook’s eyes are alert and brimming with tears.

“Jungkook what’s wrong?” 

Yoongi looks Jungkook over once again to make sure there’s no other injuries and only sees the one cut and a few scattered bruises.

“It’s just a cut,” Yoongi reassures, “just needs a few stitches.” 

He repeats this to make sure Jungkook understands. Yoongi thinks it’s a little odd to see the kid so tore up over the monster run in. He knows Jungkook grew up roaming the streets all around New York and constantly had to run from creatures hidden in alleyways until the old witch lady took him in. He should be used to it- the running, hiding, and fighting to survive, but the purple around Jungkook shifts and warps with anxiety.

“This is different, ya know,” Jungkook says almost too softly to hear.

Yoongi adjusts his grip on Jungkook’s arm before answering, “What’s different?”

“Yoongi, I know what you’re thinking.” 

“What am I thinking?”

“I can tell by your face that you can’t figure out why I’m such a mess,” Jungkook wipes away the tears from his face, and more run down to replace them. “Being chased by monsters shouldn’t be new to me.”

“Well. Uh- yeah,” Yoongi says. “I just thought all of us expected this. We’ve all faced our own monsters- literally and also metaphorically. Half Bloods were never bred to have an easy life.” 

Jungkook frowns, “You don’t get it.”

Yoongi looks again for Hoseok; he is placing one of those large, rectangular bandaids just above Taehyung’s eyebrow.

“Then explain it to me,” Yoongi says focusing back on Jungkook.

Yoongi’s hand slips a little, causing Jungkook to hiss through his teeth. He fixes the placement with a low apology.

“All of this is new to me. Being part of a team and worrying about others is new to me. We’ve been friends with each other for four years now but I never had to worry about you or any of the others getting killed, Yoongi. I’m not upset because of the cut on my arm. I’m upset because I’ve watched everyone here almost get ripped apart at least twice now.”

Yoongi sighs through his nose. “Jungkook. Quests aren’t always meant to be easy or safe. Demis die all the time because we’re cursed by our parentage. Gods and humans shouldn’t mix. Yet they keep doing it because no one seems to think about what it means to be half mortal and half immortal. Most of us live at a camp designed to teach us how to make it in a world that tries to kill us every chance it gets in more ways than one. We don’t ask to become heroes. We’re forced to.”

“That’s just it!” Yoongi flinches at Jungkook's sudden outburst. “I didn’t ask for this. You didn’t ask for this. None of us asked for this. We didn’t ask to be demigods. We didn’t ask to save the world. We didn’t ask for the gods to collectively piss around. We didn’t ask to do anything. We’re expected to. We’re created to. The gods could choose not to let us happen. Yet they let it so we can fix everything as they look down from a mountain in the clouds.” 

Yoongi can feel more blood seeping through the wrapping on Jungkook’s arm as his blood pressure rises. 

“That’s the thing, Jungkookie. We may be just kids fighting ancient adults’ battles, but it has been like that throughout history. Adults screw us all over, and then complain when we try to fix everything.” 

“Well, it sucks,” Jungkook says while trying to lay down, the fight leaving him.

Yoongi tightens his hold on Jungkook, slipping a hand behind his head as his eyelids droop. “Whoa there, buddy. Let’s stay sitting up.”

Jungkook grunts, “Mm S’tired.” 

Maybe he’s lost more blood than Yoongi thought. He opens his mouth to yell for Hoseok again when he appears on the other side of Jungkook, more bandages and a square of ambrosia (minus a bite) in hand.

Jungkook’s eyes are closed. Hoseok lightly slaps his cheek to get him more alert, and his eyes flutter back open.

Yoongi is practically holding Jungkook up at this point. 

Hoseok lifts the ambrosia to his mouth, and Jungkook whines. 

“Jungkook, you have to take a bite so you’ll heal faster,” Hoseok’s voice is soft but firm.

Jungkook wrinkles his nose.

Hoseok sits the bandages in Jungkook’s lap and reaches up a hand to grip his face, fingers pressing enough into his cheeks to pop open his mouth so he can put a corner of the little cake inside.

“Eat, Jungkook.”

Jungkook chews, and Yoongi can feel the blood under his palm slow. The purple around Jungkook relaxes and hugs closer to him.

“He can lay back now if he wants, and you can stop applying pressure,” Hoseok tells Yoongi, and he carefully lowers Jungkook and takes his hand away from his arm.

Yoongi waits while Hoseok assesses the damage.

“I’m going to go ahead and place a couple stitches just to quicken the healing process. The abrasion is pretty deep. It should only take a minute okay, Kookie.”

Yoongi looks over to Jungkook, and he’s staring at Hoseok with huge eyes. 

Yoongi reaches out a hand and places it in Jungkook’s, receiving crushed fingers immediately.

“I forgot you were afraid of needles,” Yoongi snorts.

“It’s not the object so much as the feeling,” Jungkook grumbles and tries to blow the hair out of his eyes.

“Weren’t you talking about tattoos last week?” Hoseok asks, cleaning the cut with water.

“That’s different. Those are tiny needles moving quickly not a large curved one slipping through.” 

“Okay, Jungkook, you’re going to feel a pinch,” Hoseok says, ever the professional.

He starts the first thread through.

“I’m going to throw up,” Jungkook states. 

Rolling his eyes, Yoongi says, “No you’re not. Stop squirming you baby.”

“Nope. I’m gonna do it.”

“No you’re not.” 

“Oh yeah. I can feel it,” Jungkook dramatically drops his head to the side.

“Okay, all done!” Hoseok says, wrapping gauze across the clean and precise sutures. 

“What the ass?!” Jungkook yells. “That was so fast.”

Yoongi chuckles, “How do you feel, Jungkookie.”

“Warm and tingly!” 

Yoongi raises an eyebrow to Hoseok.

“The ambrosia is kicking in. He’s high,” Hoseok says with a large smile.

Yoongi looks back at Jungkook who’s giggling at the sky.

Maybe he should take a bite of ambrosia, too. 

Yoongi sits next to Jungkook as he re-enacts the battle with half delusional details that didn't happen and weirdly accurate sound effects. Jungkook has his fury screech down perfectly. 

He can hear Taehyung protesting.

“Really, guys. My brain is fine” Taehyung whines. 

“Oh yeah? What day is it?” Jin asks.

“I- have no idea. But in my defense I don’t think I knew from the start. My days are yesterday, today, and tomorrow.” 

“Are you using your weird “time doesn’t exist” theory as an excuse for having the day knocked out of you?” Namjoon interjects.

“Then what day is it, huh? Tell me, wise calendar men.”

“Sunday,” Jin says confidently.

“Jin. It’s Tuesday,” Namjoon corrects.

“Oh.”

Yoongi’s attention gets snagged by bickering off to the side. He looks away from Jungkook flapping his arms to Hoseok and Jimin squaring off. Hoseok shaking bandages in Jimin’s face, and Jimin swatting them away.

“Hobi! I told you I was fine! Leave it,” Jimin says the last part through his teeth. Which is a lie because the orange around him has darkened around the edges.

“Park Jimin. There’s blood stained all down your back!” Hoseok’s face is all business, but his tone bites. 

“Again, I’m fine.” Jimin plants his fists on his hips, defiant. “It doesn’t even hurt.”

“Doesn’t even hurt? Oh, okay then.”

Hoseok reaches up and places a hand on Jimin’s shoulder; the other smiles thinking he’s won. Hoseok returns his smile and digs his fingers into Jimin’s shoulder where the tip of his wounds should end. Jimin grunts as his knees buckle and hit the ground.

Yoongi’s not gonna lie. Hoseok is terrifying as he leans down with a strained smile.

“That’s what I thought.” 

Hoseok lifts his hand, and a little color returns back to Jimin’s paled face. 

Hoseok walks around him and lifts the back of Jimin’s tattered shirt to reveal jagged and oozing cuts across his upper back. 

“Jiminie. I should kill you for trying to not so subtlety hide these from me, you brat.”

Hoseok sets to work on cleaning Jimin’s wounds. 

Yoongi scoffs when both of them look his way and roll their eyes at the same time. 

Jungkook is slapping his arm to gain his attention again. When he looks back down at him, he gets a toothy grin.

Jungkook giggles and whispers, “Yoongi looks like a cat.”

Yoongi fights the small smile on his lips. 

“Jungkook looks like a bunny,” he says.

He gasps, and Yoongi mimics it. 

Tears brim and collect in Jungkook’s eyes again but this time they swim with stars.

“What now, Kookie?” Yoongi says while checking for a temperature. He’s a little warm, but that could be the ambrosia at work.

“Bunnies are so cute!”

Yoongi leans back on his heels, watching Jungkook starfish himself on the ground. 

“Hoseok, how much ambrosia did you give him?”

Hoseok looks over at them, “He got less than Tae.”

Yoongi snorts, “lightweight.” 

The crumbling of paper comes from the cave behind them. Yoongi looks to see Namjoon looking over the map with a furrowed brow. 

The map’s enchantment reflects off his glasses.

Joon says, “Prometheus must not rest.”

“Because?” Yoongi asks even though he thinks he knows the answer to his own question.

“Because he’s four hours away now and still moving.” 

“Is that why the monsters appeared?” Jungkook says, surprising Yoongi with how sober it sounded.

“Maybe,” Namjoon folds the map and tucks it in his pocket. “Monsters tend to gravitate towards Titans for some reason. Probably because of their origins.”

“So we’re walking into a monster rave,” Jin says.

“Most likely. The woods are probably scattered with strays from here to there.” Namjoon frowns.

“In that case, we’re going to need a plan within our plan,” says Taehyung, itching at the bandaid plastered to his forehead. 

“We might need to add a few more steps to the original,” Namjoon declares. 

Yoongi hopes step one is to take a nap.

___________________

On his 13th birthday, Hoseok found out three things. 

One: his mom was biologically his aunt.

Two: his birth mother had abandoned him ten years to the date buckled into the rainbow saddle of a plastic giraffe at a carnival with nothing but a melting snickers bar and a kiwi-strawberry caprisun pouch. 

Three: he was a demigod, and he’d be attending Camp Half Blood in the summer.

Hoseok had looked at his mama’s red eyes as she fought tears trying to explain her sister’s choices. 

“She just- didn’t have what it takes to protect a demigod. She was scared and weak. It wasn’t an excuse then, and it’s not one now. She should have brought you to me directly.”

“So is that why carnival music freaks me out?”

His mom blinked, having not expected that specific question out of all the ones he should have asked. 

“You don’t really like the carnival at all. That’s why we never go.” 

Hoseok took a bite of his cocoa pebbles. He stole a glance at the clock. 

“I’m going to be late for school. We need to go, mama.” 

He looked at her wobbling smile.

“Hoseok, my sunshine boy, it’s Saturday.” 

“Oh yeah.” 

He took all of this new information in stride.

It unlocked some memories long stowed away. Like rose scented perfume and long black hair and a soft voice telling him it would all be okay that she’ll be back in a minute to not go anywhere. 

What was he supposed to do? Cry over a woman that didn’t want him? Anxiously mull over why she left? 

Frankly, Hoseok was used to disappointment by then. Life was full of it. Even at the ripe age of 13-years-old, he knew that ideas were ideas and dreams sometimes remained dreams and that important people weren’t always a permanent presence in your life. 

Besides. His mama always smelled like jasmine tea and honey. Her hair never grew past her chin, and she used to always sing “My Only Sunshine” to him every night in bed while petting his hair until he fell asleep. 

As for the whole “You’re a demigod, Hoseok”, that was fairly easy to believe. It explained why some of his teachers had reptilian eyes, and how that one kid in gym class tried to actually kill him on dodgeball days. 

Camp made sense, too. A safe haven full of demigods with grounds and a lake full of magical creatures that were supposed to be myths. 

The bunk rooms in the cabins were cozy. Every bed was comfortable no matter if you liked soft or firm mattresses. Fresh laundry smelled like the detergent his mom liked to use. 

His favorite activities were arts and crafts (he had a tradition of making his mom beaded bracelets)  and archery (which isn’t surprising considering he’s the son of Apollo).

The first time he had slipped his hand into the grip of a bow it had felt like a perfect fit. He picked an arrow with white fletchings. He slid it across the rest, snapping the nock into place. When he pulled back the string, muscles aching with the effort, the arrow veered to the side, wobbling until he tipped it back over. 

“If you need to, hold your pointer finger up beside the rest to stabilize the arrow until the draw feels natural,” the instructor, his older sister, said. 

Hoseok thought to himself that it already felt natural but used the advice. 

He sent the arrow, and it embedded itself in the outer black ring of the target.

“Great Job, Hoseok!” He didn’t think it was a great job. “Not everyone hits the target on the first try.” He wanted a bullseye. 

He nocked another arrow and drew back once again. 

“Raise your elbow.” He did. “Bring the string to the corner of your mouth; look down your arrow and aim as if you were the arrow. Send it.”

Hoseok peered down the line of the arrow, lining it up with the yellow center and let it go. 

A bullseye. Barely a bullseye, but a bullseye. 

Over the years he had trained to place an arrow wherever he wanted it from a target center to the pupil of a chimera. 

Healing came just as naturally to him. He has a steady hand and a good memory storage for treatments and protocol. He had spent hours collecting hands-on experience and absorbing as much written material as possible.

After the attack, he made them all wait a couple hours before marching towards Prometheus. They needed the break to build up energy.

He makes sure everyone gets a sip of nectar while eating a breakfast made up of gas station snack cakes.

He monitors Tae to ensure his brain is okay and keeps an eye on Jimin’s back and Jungkook’s arm. 

It’s a welcome distraction. 

Hoseok didn’t like conflict of any caliber. He doesn’t like to argue with his friends much less fight a horde of monsters stalking through the woods sniffing out half bloods. 

Battle was a concept lost to him. The art of it was interesting. The strategy and the training- he knows them and even tries to perfect them. 

But the idea and real thing are two very different beasts. One is elegant, collected, and easily studied. The other is snarling and blinded by fear, anticipation, and differing moralities.

In war, there are three groups, two opposing sides and the neutral middle. Both sides believe that they’re right. Both sides are willing to kill and be killed for the greater good of their side. The neutrals just pray to whatever is listening for the fighting to stop. 

When you are a demigod and want to be in the neutral group, that’s not up to you. Whatever side the gods are on, that’s where Hoseok is supposed to be. 

The aftermath of battle is the worst part for him. There, Hoseok remembers all the lives he took and beings he harmed. 

It hurt to mangle when he was made to mend. What scared him the most was how easy it was to destroy.

“You know if you force us to eat then you have to as well.”

Hoseok grunts when a honey bun hits him in the forehead and lands in his lap with a crinkle. 

He glares up at Seokjin who’s starting to sit down beside him. 

“I know I’m beautiful, Hobs, but you can stare at me after you eat your breakfast.”

Hoseok’s glare deepens as he opens the treat. He takes a bite. Cinnamon and sugary glaze coats his tongue and smears the corner of his mouth. 

A sound of delight slips out. He forgot how good these things were.

Jin huffs as he hands him a canteen. Hoseok grabs it, taking a swig. 

The water tastes sweet like honey melting on a blueberry bagel. 

“You spiked the water,” Hoseok announces.

Jin offers a small smile and says, “Like you would have taken a nectar shot on your own?” 

Hoseok shakes his head while raising the canteen to Jin before knocking back the rest of it. 

The nectar warms his chest, toes, and fingers. Aches numb and bruises fade from his skin. The small cut on his forearm shrinks enough for it to just be a scratch. A giggle involuntarily bubbles from his throat.

With a scoff, Jin says, “Remember to take care of yourself, too, idiot.” 

Hoseok throws his wrapper at Jin. He swats it away, and somewhere Taehyung yells at them to pick up their trash. 

Jin picks the plastic up and shoves it in his pocket as he walks back to the others who are starting to pack up camp.

Hoseok thinks he should help as well. He gets up from his spot and dusts off his shorts. He sighs at the black blood stain on one of the pockets. 

He makes his way over to start packing up his share of things but stops when he notices there is no Jungkook. 

Hoseok thinks it’s probably time for Jungkook’s stitches to come out. His cut was almost healed enough the last time Hoseok checked. 

He finds his bag amidst the packing chaos and retrieves a small pair of scissors from the medical pouch inside. Hoseok sanitizes the blades with an alcohol wipe. 

When done, he looks around for Jungkook, spotting him next to the brook cleaning off his black boots. 

Hoseok makes his way over to sit next to him. He can see the remains of dried on golden blood washing away from the toe of Jungkook’s left boot. It glitters as it mixes with water. Hoseok is reminded of when Jungkook cleans metallic watercolor from his brushes back at camp. 

“How are you feeling, Kookie?” 

Jungkook continues scrubbing at his shoes shrugging at the question.

His hair hides his eyes. Hoseok can tell something is up.

“Is it okay if I check your stitches? They should be ready to remove now.”

He gets another nod, and Jungkook offers him his arm. 

Hoseok pushes his sleeve up to see how the wound is doing. He makes an approving sound when he sees that the cut is now a pink scar. 

“I’m gonna take these out now, okay Jungkookie?” 

Jungkook lifts his head this time. Hoseok can see his loud thoughts swarming in his eyes. He gives a small “okay” before looking away from his arm and Hoseok’s scissors. 

With three snips, Hoseok pulls the threads through. It’s always satisfying to see the end of a healing process. 

He pulls Jungkook’s sleeve back down, patting his shoulder. He takes his time getting up. 

Hesitating before he joins the others again, he says, “Everyone is starting to pack. We better help.”

Jungkook gives a “Mn.” before Hoseok starts walking away. 

He makes it two steps when there’s a tug on the tail of his shirt. 

“Yeah, Kook?” 

There’s a sigh followed by, “I had a lucid dream while I was out of it on ambrosia.” 

Hoseok was expecting a dream from one of them. 

He turns to Jungkook; he’s standing now and staring at his feet.

“From Hecate?”

Jungkook is biting on the inside of his bottom lip. Hoseok ruffles his already fluffed hair before returning back to the side of the brook and reclaiming his seat. He pats the spot where Jungkook had been. Jungkook sits next to him, tying the bottom of his shirt into a knot, unknotting it, and knotting it again. 

“Tell me about it,” Hoseok says while placing a leaf in the water he found stuck to his shoe laces. 

“Well. Some parts of the dream were all ambrosia like Yoongi having cat ears and Jimin sprouting wings from the gashes on his back. But there were also parts that were too clear to be illusions.” 

Hoseok hums. “Like what?” 

“I saw Hekabe, one of my mother’s familiars.”

Hoseok glances at Jungkook from the corner of his eye. He has abandoned fidgeting with his shirt and is now skimming the top of the water with one finger. 

Demigod dreams are usually never fun. 

“She was a large black wolf with amber eyes that reflected twin torches in them. She used to be an ebony German Shepard when I apprenticed with them.” Jungkook smiles to himself briefly. “Anyway. She came from the cave. Hekabe made her rounds to all of you guys. She said she was weighing your souls but I know she was just scenting everyone. She thinks you smell like sunflowers.”

Hoseok chuckles. “I’m flattered.” 

“When she was done, Hekabe gifted me something.” 

Jungkook pauses.

“What was it?” Hoseok supplied. 

“Uh- well the first thing was a slimey kiss to the cheek because it had been so long,” Jungkook sighs through his nose before adding, “and the second thing was a spell that would defeat Prometheus.”

Hoseok whips his gaze to Jungkook. He’s already shyly looking back from in between the fingers of the hand not fully submerged in the water.

“Really?” Hoseok almost whispers. 

Jungkook nods and adds, “Yeah. Hekabe placed her forehead to mine and transferred the spell over to me. The instructions were vague, but she told me Hecate believes it will work.” 

“Do you have everything you need for it? Is it just an incantation or do you need items?” 

“It’s kind of more so a potion I guess, but there is a closing incantation. I have all the items besides one.” 

“What is it? Do you need help finding it? We can go right now,” Hoseok rambles.

“Technically, we’re already on our way to it,” Jungkook says.

Hoseok raises an eyebrow.

“It’s Titan blood. The only item I don’t have is Titan blood.” 

Hoseok can feel his mouth fall into a frown.

“A-And Prometheus has to drink the mixture when I say the closing line.” 

Hoseok’s eyes grow and he says, “Is your mom insane?” 

“Perhaps. But she’s also apparently confident I can do it.”

Hoseok bites his tongue before saying something that might get him hexed. 

“You need to tell the others,” Hoseok decides to say instead.

Jungkook whines. “I know.” 

Hoseok might have had to literally drag Jungkook to where the others were still packing up all their things, but Jungkook does tell them. And like Hoseok, they all feel unsettled by the fact that so much falls onto Jungkook. They all wanted it to be an even distribution of stress and peril, yet none of them could protect Jungkook from being an important factor in all of this. 

Fate has a tricky way of doing exactly what you don’t want it to do.

It’s quiet as they all finish packing. Hoseok can practically feel the waves of anxiety rolling off of them all, collecting in the air and bouncing off one another. 

When they finish, they line up shoulder to shoulder across the stream in front of the tree line. Backpacks and bags hang from their shoulders once again, and they stare in the general direction of where Prometheus is supposed to be. 

Namjoon holds the map out in front of him. A purple 2 glows on top of the page and hours and two little footprints flicker beside it. 

Hoseok steals a peek at Jungkook and can tell he is still tired from earlier. 

“Jungkook, lift the tracking spell and preserve your energy. I can track the monsters back to where they came from. It may take a little longer to get to Prometheus, but I don’t think that’s a hindrance.”

Hoseok waits for the protesting, but it doesn’t come. Namjoon folds the map. It’s purple glow blinks out. 

Hoseok looks at Jungkook. His jaw is set and eyes focused on looking into the trees. He hates that Hoseok is right. 

It’s easy tracking the chimera’s and dracanae’s trail. There’s always a perfect paw print not too far from another or ruts grooved into ground and brush from large snake tails.

When the foliage grows dense enough that they have to cut through it, Hoseok follows broken branches, tufts of fur, scorched patches, and lost scales. 

They run into more trails that are larger and more recent until they end into a field. It stretches into the distance. At its center, there’s a small oasis of trees surrounding a small pond. Monsters of every shape and size loiter around in the open expanse around the middle. There are hundreds of them. 

“So, what’s the strategy here?” Jimin whispers.

Everyone is huddled close to Hoseok. He looks at Namjoon who shrugs. 

“We’re way out numbered,” Jin pipes up from above Hoseok’s head. “We should have made more friends.” 

Hoseok remembers a war movie they were forced to watch in school once. There’s a scene in it that comes to mind. 

“Since there are so many, we should move in as quietly as possible. Tae can give us some cover by making the grasses tall enough to sneak through. The best way to get Jungkook to the middle is to pick off the monsters from behind while trying to not alert any in front or beside them. Take down legs or tails first and then take them out. It needs to be a quick one two system.” 

Hoseok looks around him. He sees nods. Tae gives an okay sign before inching closer to the edge of the trees. He wiggles his toes into the grass and places both hands in front of his feet. Hoseok thinks he looks like a frog.

He can see the grasses start to gradually grow in small increments to avoid suspicion or alerting the creatures that crawl through them. 

Hoseok taps Tae’s leg when the grasses are tall enough. 

Hoseok crouches next to Taehyung. He looks at the wall of yellow-green and says,“The main objective is to get Jungkook to Prometheus or at least get him as close as possible.”

“And to stay alive,” Jungkook’s voice adds. 

Hoseok doesn’t meet his eyes even though he can feel them on the back of his head .

“Yeah,” he says, “and to stay alive.” Hopefully. 

He motions them to move, and he steps into the tall grasses. 

The blades cut and scratch against Hoseok’s skin. Tae tells them to keep an eye on the grass because it should tell them when a monster is close. 

They stay close together, moving slower than they’d like due to the grass pieces whispering against one another as they pick their way through. In some places, they have to crouch down and even crawl, and in others they can stand at full height. 

The first creature they encounter is a dracanae. Her tails easily glide through the grass, smoothing it down in her wake.

Jimin crawls into the path she’s making. She bats at the tallness of the grass before her, hissing under her breath at the inconvenience. Jimin raises one of his swords up and drives it through the base of one of her tails. She whirls with a gasp, and he swings the other. A black line appears across her neck and oozes sludge. She gurgles and collapses. 

They move on as her corpse melts into the ground. 

Hoseok knows that this is a cheap shot way of fighting. A part of him tells him that it’s not fair to sneak up from behind. Another part reminds him that if they didn’t do this, Jungkook would never make it to Prometheus in one piece. 

It goes on like that. A cyclops is swallowed by the grass after a few perfectly placed arrows. A harpy is plucked from her flight by a vine. A pair of Hundred-Handed Ones never see Yoongi and Jin coming. It takes all seven of them to take out a manticore with minimal fuss from the creature- one on each leg, one at the tail, and two at the head. 

It’s the monsters small and plain enough that costs them to overlook. At first glance, they seem like harmless birds looking like something in between a dove and a pigeon. Easily mistaken in the sky but not so much when they’re ripping into flesh. 

They’re halfway to the center when small shadows dot the sky above their heads and dive bomb them. 

Namjoon hisses, “Stymphalian birds!” under his breath. 

Hoseok twists his bow and sends arrows into the sky. He hits his marks; some even double on the arrow as they hit the flattened grasses around them with soft thuds.

He continues picking off the man eating birds. He knows a couple slip passed by the grunts of pain from Jin, half coherent curses from Yoongi, and a squawk from Jimin somewhere. 

The last bird falls with a fwmp . Hoseok doesn’t think they were too loud but is soon proven wrong when the head of a drakon peers over the top of the swaying grass tops. 

It’s huge, serpentine head towers over them as it rises to its full height. 

Hoseok sighs. He presses an arrow shaft to his forehead and screws his eyes shut. He grumbles,”Stupid bitch birds,” to himself and the drakon lets out an ear splitting screech.

Hoseok sucks in a breath before opening his eyes again. He quickly knocks an arrow, and in a blink, it is pierced in the drakon’s tongue. 

The beast screams again, snapping down on the arrow forcing it to lodge into both its pallets leaving its mouth open. 

It spits and growls, thrashing back and forth. 

“Alright! Screw stealth! Go! Just go!” Hoseok yells. 

They all charge forward, side stepping the writhing drakon. 

Hoseok can hear monsters ripping through the gross all around them. Tae hasn’t updated their location, but he knows it can’t be too far. 

He’s sprinting through the grass. It smacks his face and shreds his hands. 

He doesn’t sense a certain spot being a solid mass and lumbers straight into what feels like a wall. 

The wall has arms though, and one tears through the grass strands and grips Hoseok by the head. 

His face is squished into a sweaty palm, and his feet lift from the ground. 

Natural instinct is to kick out, and he does so while screaming. His foot connects with something soft. 

The large hand squeezes tighter before letting go and he hits the ground with an oof . 

He coughs and spits the sour taste of hand from his mouth. Hoseok scurries back when he sees a cyclops bent over him holding its watering and red eye. 

“You kicked me in the eye!”

The cyclops stomps, barely missing Hoseok’s leg. 

“You were trying to pop my head like a grape!” Hoseok spits back. 

“I was gonna kill you before! Now I’m really gonna kill ya!” 

Hoseok furrows his brows. “That doesn’t even make any sense!”

The cyclops apparently didn’t take creative criticism because he growls and lunges for Hoseok again. 

Hoseok squeaks and crawls into the grass, clawing at the strands to help boost him to his feet. 

He runs again, panicking when he realizes that he no longer has his bow and he doesn’t know where the others are. 

He thinks that his current situation can’t get much worse so he screams, “Taehyung!” 

“Yeah?” 

Hoseok screams again when Tae is right beside him, melting from the grasses. 

Taehyung’s eyes grow big but he waits for Hoseok to finish.

Hoseok swallows the rest of his surprise. 

“I know this is risky, but we can’t split up. We split up and we’re dead. Together we may be dead, too, but that’s besides the point.”

Tae’s eyebrows are bunched in the middle and his mouth is open slightly as he listens to Hoseok’s garbled explanation.

“Just- make the grass go away.”

“All the way?” 

“Until we find everyone else, yes.” 

Tae nods. He throws out his arm in a horizontal swipe, and the grass goes from being three feet over their heads to an inch over their shoes. 

Time pauses for a second as everyone and everything stops what they’re doing, wondering where all the grass went. 

Hoseok can see the others not too far away; they're all scattered with the exception of Jungkook and Jimin standing back to back. 

“Guys! Group up!”

They hear him, but so do all the monsters dotting the field everywhere. 

Hoseok and Tae beeline for the other boys as they run towards them as well. 

They crash into each other in a heap. The monsters are right on their heels. Hoseok looks over Jin’s shoulder and sees the edge of the pond within the oasis just a hundred yards away behind a very familiar cyclops roaring as he approaches. 

But before the cyclops can join the huddle, a wall of thorns and thick, wooden vines erupt from the ground and chase each other skyward to dome around them. 

Hoseok’s cyclops with an eye for an eye complex rams into the wall. Dust and splinters fly through the air at the impact. More vines and thorns wind tightly in the spot.

Other monsters join the frenzy. Dracanaes beat at the dome with swords and battle axes. Cyclopses at various stages in growth try to force their way through. Furies and harpies claw from above. Hundred-handed Ones throw things, punch, and tear at the walls. 

“Now what do we do?” Jimin asks. He’s sitting in the middle of them all. Drying blood is caked over his mouth and chin from a broken nose. 

Hoseok listens to the screaming from outside. He looks at Tae whose eyes are unfocused and hands shake from the effort of keeping the monsters out. 

“Can you get Jungkook to the pond?” Hoseok asks.

Tae raises an eyebrow and grits out “Maybe. Got any ambrosia left?.” 

Hoseok digs an ambrosia square from his pocket and holds it up to Taehyung’s lips. “Here.”

Hoseok blinks and half the bar is gone. “Taehyung! That’s too much-”

Taehyung cuts him off, “That’s the point, Hobs.”

Now, juiced up on ambrosia, Taehyung looks hyper focused. His pupils are blown wide. 

“I need an opening.”

Hoseok looks over to where his cyclops is and points. “That’s a straight shot to the oasis.”

Taehyung stands, cracking his neck he says, “Get ready for some company.” 

The wall abruptly opens causing the cyclops to trip and stumble inside. The opening behind him shoots back, twining and winding into a tunnel leading to the outer edge of the pond. 

Tae’s breath becomes a little labored from the exertion and over dosage of ambrosia, but he remains steady.

The cyclops rights himself, one eye blinking in confusion at why he was permitted in. He zeros in on Hoseok and snarls.

“Son of Apollo,” the cyclops grinds out, “Your head is mine.”

Hoseok scoffs. “Get bent.” 

The cyclops lunges for him. Hoseok manages to side step him, pushing at Jin and sending him careening into someone else. 

Through the holes and cracks in between the vines and thorns, rays of sunshine pierce through, their beams cutting across the air in swaths. His bow is somewhere out in the middle of the field, so he reaches out into the nearest sunbeam. In his hand, the light bends, solidifying. It twists around his wrist and across his hand, creating something like a gauntlet of sorts. The rest of the beam stretches from it and coils at his feet, glowing a warm yellow color. 

The cyclops eyes Hoseok’s creation, but chooses to ignore it. 

He barrels towards Hoseok. With a flick, the end of his gauntlet acts as a whip. Hoseok snaps out his wrist, and the beam follows the movement. It wraps around the cyclops’s neck, singeing where it touches, and he bellows in choked rage. 

Hoseok shoots forward. Using the cyclops’s knee as a vault, he flips over his shoulder, coming down with all his weight on the rope of light. Burning flesh assaults his nostrils as it cuts clean through. He lands on his knees with a grunt as the cyclops crumbles behind him; the head rolls and rests next to his feet. 

“Off with your head,” Hoseok murmurs. 

Jimin and Namjoon stand across from him; both look at the gauntlet’s strand flicking back and forth like a cat’s tail. 

“Did you know he could do that?” Jimin looks at Namjoon.

Namjoon wipes dust from his glasses and answers with a simple, “No.”

“Did he quote the live action Alice in Wonderland?” Jimin’s face scrunches as he tries to think.

Hoseok ignores them and instead finds that Jungkook was still there, staring big eyed. 

“Jeon Jungkook!” Hoseok lowers his voice as he sees the other boy jump. “Go.” He points to the tunnel. 

“But-” Jungkook starts, “I’m not even sure I can do this.”

Hoseok bores his eyes into scared doe eyes. “Jungkookie. I know you can. We all know you can.” 

Jungkook looks at the tunnel and tightens his grip on his backpack. He looks at them all again. He uses a sleeve to rub at the tears threatening to spill over, smearing the dirt on his cheek

“Go,” Hoseok offers in a soft tone, “We’ll be fine.”

Jungkook knows he’s lying. Again. Hoseok can tell in the little frown he shoots towards him, but Jungkook says nothing as he takes off through the tunnel’s opening. 

For a second, they all watch Jungkook disappear into the shadows of the tunnel. Only his silhouette against the bright side of the other end can be seen. 

It’s broken when Yoongi walks up beside Hoseok. Yoongi gently grabs his elbow, and Hoseok turns to look at him with a question clear on his face. 

“Hobi,” Yoongi says.

“What?”

Yoongi swallows, his eyes are fixed to a certain spot of the wall on the other side of the dome. “I can see my dad.”

Hoseok follows his gaze and sees a man draped in white and black.

Then, Taehyung collapses to his knees, and the sound of breaking wood echoes through the dome. 

____________________

Growing up, Jungkook always thought that he was born for a specific reason. 

He could look around and see that he wasn’t a typical kid. Normally, humans didn’t possess magic. They couldn’t feel it in their core as it unfurled into energy that could be used. 

Normally, kids had a place that felt like home not just a place his dad rented. Jungkook never knew anything outside wandering the streets. One of his first memories was running away from a stray dog that didn’t like the idea of pats. 

It wasn’t until he found the weird, rundown shack in an alley at the heart of New York City that he realized his purpose. 

He had followed the smell of baking bread expecting a bakery. When he came around a corner and saw what it was, Jungkook thought it looked strange nestled between red bricked and grey slabs of apartment building walls. It looked like it belonged somewhere out in a lush forest. Fungi clinged to the framework and moss swathed some parts of the wood paneling. 

Baking things filled the air around it. Jungkook could even smell the dried bundles of herbs hanging in the windows. 

A bell dinged over his head as he entered. 

A voice singsonged a “Be right with you!” somewhere from the back. 

Jungkook awkwardly stood in the middle of the shop trying to soak in all the organized clutter with his eyes. Floor to ceiling shelves housed books, bowls, crystals, jars with oddly familiar things floating inside, vials of vibrantly colored liquids, bones, tarot sets, candles, and incense sticks. 

The checkout counter was also a mini cafe with a chalkboard filled with drink selections from hot lattes to iced milk teas. Some had names Jungkook was unfamiliar with. A black cat was curled into a neat circle next to the register. One ear twitched. 

He was wondering what the banana milk special was like when a lady appeared from a door behind the counter. At first all he saw was a curtain of silver-white mermaid waves that shifted as the lady closed the door.

“Sorry to keep you waiting. How can I help you- oh!”

Jungkook met large dark brown eyes that seemed to reflect all the lights in the shop all at the same time. He thought they seemed familiar but in a way he didn’t understand. 

A dark shape dragged his attention away from the lady. A large dog rounded the corner of the counter, and Jungkook stiffened as it sniffed his shoes in welcome. 

With a hand in silken fur, Jungkook looked back to the shop owner. She seemed ancient and youthful at the same time. Jungkook couldn’t even begin to guess her age. Wrinkles seemed to present themselves and melt into smooth skin at the same time. Dark spots shifted into beauty marks, but maybe that was just a trick of the dimmed lighting. 

“No offense, little one, but how did you find your way into my magic shop?”

Jungkook tilted his head at that. Shop owners don’t usually ask why a customer is there. 

“I followed the smell?” 

The lady smiled like she knew something he didn’t. “Smell?”

“Like- bread or a pie baking in the oven.”

The shop owner started busying herself behind the counter. “Interesting. But I don’t sell baked items.”

Jungkook frowned. He could still smell it, though.

“What do you know about magic?” The lady asked while chopping something Jungkook couldn’t see because of the daily special sign.

“Like magic tricks?”

She chuckled, “No, like real magic.”

Jungkook thought back to a year ago when he accidentally set his Math book on fire. He got suspended, and no one could figure out how the flames were purple. 

“Not much.”

The lady had finished what she had been working on. A cup with a light yellow drink inside is sat on the counter in front of him. 

“For you,” she says, placing a straw on top.

“But I didn’t order anything.”

The lady tapped her nose. “Oh, but you did.”

Jungkook thanked her and left the shop. He was half way back to his dad’s apartment when he finally decided to try the drink in his hand. 

To his delight, it was banana milk with fresh banana pieces inside. 

What made him go back to the shop the next day was half because of the banana milk and half because his name was written in black sharpie on the side, and Jungkook knew he never said his name just like he never said he wanted to try the banana option. 

Over time, he learned that the lady’s name was Hecate. She taught him about real magic with spells and potions and elemental energies. 

For a year, he apprenticed under her guidance.

But one day when he showed up to the shop, the windows were dark. He had walked inside to an empty building that smelled like dust. In the middle of the room, a single piece of paper was placed, and on it was a neatly printed Long Island address.

At Camp Half Blood, Jungkook found out that he wasn’t a normal demigod either. 

For starters, half bloods rarely ever got to meet their godly parents, much less got to spend an entire year with them. 

The second wildcard Jungkook pulled was when he had been sparring with Jimin (because “a well rounded demigod was proficient in all combat fields” or something like that). Jungkook was better with his fists and was not as proficient in sword fighting. Jimin was above average in almost everything besides arts and crafts (which drove him crazy). So, of course Jimin got way too into it and ended up cutting Jungkook a little. 

Both of them had stared as liquid gold welled up from the tiny wound. 

“Does that usually happen?” Jimin had asked, eyes blown wide.

“I- don’t know? I don’t get hurt that often.”

Jungkook tried thinking of a time he’d remembered bleeding. The only thing that came to mind was being 5 and running headlong into the corner of the kitchen counter. He still had the scar on his cheek from it but didn’t remember any blood.

Jimin had dragged him to Namjoon. He explained that golden blood usually meant ichor which was the blood of the gods. Half bloods bled crimson, or at least, they were supposed to.

Even Mr. D and Chiron seemed perplexed over it. However Jin had always suspected they knew more than they let on. 

Now, as Jungkook sprints down a trembling tunnel with nothing but the thrum of ichor roaring in his ears, he gets it.

His cards were picked at birth, and he was living out his destiny.  They all were. 

The end of the tunnel comes quicker than Jungkook would like. 

When he steps through into the other side, the opening immediately winds itself tightly shut, the wooden vines groaning with the force.

Jungkook slides to a stop in the damp grass and whirls around to see the last vine settle in, blocking his view of the others.

Jungkook pulls at the vines, dislodging a few before they push him back and twine even tighter.

“C’mon, Tae!” 

He tries the vines again. This time they’re solid and unwavering. 

“What the hell?”

Jungkook pauses when heavy footsteps echo on the other side. Something not demigod shaped slams into the door with a feral growl.

Jungkook stumbles back, trips on a tree root, and lands butt first in the shallow pond. 

He stares as the creature on the other side of the vines claws and bites at them trying to break through with a deranged hunger. 

Dread trickles into his chest at the thought of a monster inside the tunnel. That can only mean there’s a breach between him and the others. 

“Don’t worry. None of them can get past the shield I have up.” 

Jungkook jumps at the voice. He’s still sitting in the pond with his legs on the small embankment. 

He looks for the voice but sees nothing it could belong to. 

Jungkook slowly gets up from his unfortunate seating, eyes scanning everything around him. 

Unless it took him half a day to run through that tunnel then it’s night time in the oasis. 

Stars speck the fake sky. A full moon hangs at its center, and an owl hoots from a tree somewhere across the pond. Bullfrogs croak all around him. Lightning bugs blink to one another over dew sprinkled grass. 

Movement catches his attention, and Jungkook follows it.

A fawn with white dots down its back leisurely walks along the tree line; little white rabbits pick at grass strands close by it. Between the trees behind them, Jungkook catches the flicker of a campfire. 

“Hello?”

Jungkook grimaces to himself. That’s what someone says in a horror film right before they get killed. 

“Hello, Son of Hecate. Care for a cup of tea?” 

It’s the same voice from before. Only this time, Jungkook realizes that it permeates from everywhere. 

The fawn turns towards him, flicking its ears up. It snorts and tips it’s head like it’s telling him to follow. So when it carefully steps into the trees, Jungkook does just that. 

Is he the lead in a slasher film? Probably. Is he going to do everything they would do in questionable decision making? Certainly seems like it. 

He trails behind the fawn, counting it’s spots and tripping over bunny snowballs circling his feet. 

The border of trees is small, and they pass through into a cozy opening. A fire crackles in the middle. Lanterns and fairy lights hang from tree limbs on the other side, framing a bed made up of cushions and pillows. 

Jungkook hesitates. He looks around for signs of Prometheus. A teapot is still steaming next to the fire. There’s even a vessel of cream, sugar, and honey sitting next to it. 

The fawn continues walking forward, bunnies in tow. It goes around the fire and promptly sits down on the cushions like a dog. 

It’s Jungkook’s turn to tilt his head. He’s no deer expert, but he doesn’t think that’s normal. 

And it’s not. Which is why Jungkook isn’t that surprised when the fawn begins to glow. It’s form melts and stretches, silver clay molding into a human shape. 

Jungkook’s flight instinct flashes across his brain, blaring warning sirens. 

A man is now in the fawn’s place. His skin mirrors the fawn’s coat color. Hints of pale swatches of skin peak around the side of one cheek. 

When Jungkook prepared himself to meet Prometheus, he hadn’t pictured someone that looked as kind as the guy currently pouring two cups of tea. 

“Please sit, Son of Hecate,” Prometheus gestures to a pillow across the fire from himself. 

Jungkook finds himself walking to the pillow and sitting down. Part of his brain was telling him that it must be a trap, but the other part told him to sit and have a cup of tea. 

“Jungkook.” He corrects.

Prometheus’s eyebrows raise a smidge. “What would you like in your tea, Jungkook?”

“Just sugar is fine.” 

Prometheus pours a couple spoonfuls of sugar into a cup of amber tea. He stops, and Jungkook squints. He adds two more spoonfuls, and Jungkook nods. 

Prometheus hands him the cup. He takes it carefully still on the fence about being there. 

Jungkook lifts the cup to his nose breathing in warmth. He takes a sip; it’s sweet enough so he downs it. 

It’s almost too hot to do so, but he ignores it, finishing the last of the tea and peeks inside.

The remaining tea leaf pieces settle at the bottom, creating a shape resembling a collection of flowers. That adds some courage. 

“Can I ask you something?” Jungkook asks.

“Of course.”

“Why aren’t you trying to kill me? Why do you not want the monsters here? What’s your game? What are we doing right now? W-”

Prometheus cuts him off with a laugh. “You said something, not many things.”

Jungkook closes his mouth.

“I know I’m a Titan. And my kind do not have a great record at keeping it civilized. But believe me when I tell you, I don’t know why or who or what. Ask the goddess, Bia. Only mother knows.”

Jungkook frowns at the answer. “Bia freed you, right?”

Prometheus nods and takes a sip of his tea.

“For no reason other than her own?”

Another nod.

“So- we’ve traveled for miles in a stolen minivan, nearly got killed, and continue sacrificing ourselves for nothing ? Is that what you’re telling me?”

Prometheus takes a long drink from his tea. “Not for nothing, Jungkook. The gods need you to save the world because they don’t have the juice to do it themselves.”

“But-” Jungkook scrunches his face up in frustration, “how are you a part of all this? Aren’t you the reason that all the mortals have gone rouge? Aren’t you why the gods don’t have juice? Aren’t you supposed to be ruling the world right now, but instead choose to camp out in a random field in the middle of nowhere?” 

Prometheus sits his cup down on the ground beside his foot. “I know you came here expecting a 7 foot tall demon Titan overlord or whatever, but I’m just as inconvenienced as you are. I didn’t ask to be set free and thrown down to a world that is so desperate for an overruling presence that it chooses to destroy itself when the offer is declined. The gods blame Titans and mortals for all their misfortunes, but all they ever do is bring it upon themselves. Bia never thought about me or my creations. She took a page from her own book and drew a reverse card on Zeus.”

Jungkook blinks. “You don’t want to be free?” 

“No. I accepted my eternal fate the day I gave humans fire. I wanted them to flourish on their own. To learn and create and just live. Without a Titan or a god or a ruler. But that wish ended the same day I had it. I can’t change eons of mortal culture unless I completely start over.”

“Why not?” Jungkook dares to ask.

“Why not what?”

“Why not start over?”

The Titan is quiet for a stretched few seconds. “One thing that the gods don’t know about me is that I have lived many lives while in my imprisonment,” Prometheus finally says. Jungkook watches as a lightning bug flies near the titans face. He lifts a finger to it, and the tiny creature lands on an outstretched finger, it’s yellow glow illuminating eyes that have seen years upon years of life events.

“What do you mean?” Jungkook asks, tapping a ring on the side of his empty cup. 

“Zeus never cared to check, but I can transport my subconscious to my creations. I can live through the eyes of humans. I have lived many lives with many names and an incalculable amount of memories. I have experienced love, depression, grief, anger, frustration, happiness. I’ve been multiple people from every nation both grand and forgotten. I know more about being human than I do being a Titan, and yet I’m still surprised by it all, Jungkook.”

Jungkook listens quietly as the Titan takes his gaze away from the insect in his palm to peer into Jungkook’s.

“There are so many mortals now. I can feel them all. Their thoughts flood my mind because all of them think I’m all there is and that’s not true. While I was away I thought I had a handle on the numbers. But in there it was muddled. I might have felt a few million at a time but that is nothing compared to billions all at once. When I created the first group, I never imagined them growing into this. Starting over would be like going back in time to train my dog differently only to return back to the present finding out I killed my children in the process.” 

Jungkook never expected a creator of any kind to care some much for their creations.

“So, if you don’t have anything to do with all this chaos other than simply being here, why are the monsters following you?” Jungkook asks.

Prometheus glares into the fire at the mention of them. “Those creatures just follow around whoever has the most status. The shield is up so I can get some peace and quiet around here.” 

They both stare into the fire for a heartbeat. Jungkook absorbs all this new information. He sighs through his nose and bites at his thumbnail, chipping off black nail polish. 

He tenses when a scream manages to find its way past the shield and to his ear. He honestly can’t tell what kind of being it came from. 

“Don’t worry about the other demigods. I sent a friend to help them.” 

“You have friends?” Jungkook’s eyes grow, “I-I mean- that’s not-”

Prometheus laughs over his rambling. Jungkook thinks it’s odd how young Prometheus seems to look.

“I have many. Death just so happens to be one of my best friends.” 

Jungkook would giggle at that statement if Prometheus hadn’t said it with a light but serious tone.

“Death as in Thanatos?” Jungkook gapes.

Prometheus lifts an eyebrow, “Of course. Who else?”

Jungkook smiles to himself. Yoongi must have thought the worst when his dad showed up. “Oh, I was just asking to be sure.” 

“He should be joining us any moment actually.”

Jungkook pauses, “But why?”

Prometheus doesn’t answer. Instead a deeper voice sounds from behind Jungkook, saying, “In order for everything to forget, death itself must also forget.”

Jungkook startles almost dropping his tea cup. 

A man dressed in white and black robes walks over to them. He sits to Jungkook’s left and takes a plain cup of tea from Prometheus, folding over its warmth like a cat. Long, raven hair is half pulled up. Jungkook looks into familiar dark eyes with a welcoming glint. 

“Hi, Yoongi’s dad.” Jungkook offers a small wave.

Thanatos huffs a laugh, but offers a kind smile, “Hi, Yoongi’s friend.” 

Jungkook’s teacup clinks against his shoes. YoongiNamjoonJinHobiJiminTae

“Uh-” Jungkook says intelligently, “Speaking of-”

The god of death raises his hand to tamp down Jungkook’s growing anxiety. “It’s okay. They’re safe.”

Jungkook stares at the god, “Where??”

Thanatos pats the fine linen over his chest, “Right here.”

Jungkook, still confused, “I-In your heart?”

Jungkook has ET flashbacks.

“Wh- no?” Thanatos reveals a flap in the fabric with his finger. “In my pocket.”

Jungkook gasps, “Are they tiny?”

“Well, yes and no. Their physical being, much like their existence, is and isn’t. They’re in limbo.”

Jungkook makes a choked sound so Thanatos adds, “Which will be reversed when you do your spell thing.”

His spell thing. Right. He still had to do that. 

“So I take it, mother told you she was sending me?” Jungkook states. 

Thanatos and Prometheus share a look. “More like the gossip of the gods travels the quickest when they’re bored,” Thanatos drawls out with a hint of bitterness. 

Jungkook shrugs his backpack off. Unzipping it, he retrieves everything he needs. He can feel the two beings watching him closely as he mutters the meaning of everything.

“Moon water for clarity and precision. Nectar for strength and sweetness. Dried and pressed marigolds for memory. Ground mugwort for reversal. The blood of a demigod. The blood of a Titan. And an element of death.” He sets everything in his lap as he names them (minus Thanatos’s offering).

The last things he takes out are a bundle of sweet grass and athame made of bone. 

Jungkook takes the bundle of sweet grass and lights the end on the fire before him. He looks up, meeting Prometheus’s eyes first and then Thanatos’s. 

“I’m going to begin. All you have to do is provide positive energy.”

They both nod, and Jungkook lifts the smoking bundle to his mouth. He closes his eyes and breathes in the plume, tasting the sweet and bitter tones on his tongue. When his lungs burn with the effort, he blows the smoke out through his nose. Jungkook opens his eyes, and the fire’s light changes to purple, matching them.

He swipes his hand out to fan the smoke across the small space. Jungkook scrunches his nose, and a casting circle appears around them. 

He takes his teacup and begins to add the items. Jungkook pours the moon water over the tea leaves drying to the bottom. He adds a few drops of nectar afterward and submerges two marigolds. Jungkook then sprinkles the ground mugwort in. 

Sitting the cup on the ground, he holds one hand over it while grabbing the athame from his lap with the other. Jungkook grips the knife firmly and slides it cleanly across the side of his hand. Golden blood wells from the cut, running into the lines of his hand. It pools until it tips over the side, dripping into the cup staining its contents. 

Jungkook goes to motion for Prometheus’s hand, but the Titan beats him to it, a hand already stretched out across Thanatos’s lab to avoid the flames. 

Jungkook lifts the cup from the ground to hold it under Prometheus’s hand. He wipes his athame on his pants before reaching over and pricking the side of the titan’s hand, following the groove of his lifeline. 

Platinum blood drips into the cup, whirling with gold. 

“Do you have your offering, Mister Thanatos?” Jungkook asks. His voice is low and focused on the words while keeping his thoughts in check.

Thanatos leans over, peering into the damp grass just next to him. He uses a hand to part the strands, lifting a lightning bug whose light pulses a weak glow. 

He shifts the small insect so that it rests on his palm and lifts it to his lips, pressing a faint kiss to its wings. 

It’s glow brightens one last time before it curls in on itself, darkening. 

Jungkook watches as its decay happens within seconds. A creature one moment and dust the next. 

Thanatos dumps the dust into the cup still in Jungkook’s hand. 

Jungkook lets a wandering thought escape. “I don’t mean to question, but why are you not affected like the other gods?” 

Thanatos looks into the concoction before saying, “Unlike the other gods, I work without the need of a reward. My job is to take care of a soul between their time of death and their travel with Charon to the underworld, and I expect nothing in return. Besides, more people are afraid of death than they worship it. That’s how it’s always been.”

Jungkook always knew death would be cool. 

Focusing fully once again, Jungkook takes a smoldering stick from the flames and uses it to mix the contents of his potion together. It sizzles when it touches the liquid; steam lazily reaches for the sky, and the contents warm up just a little. 

As he stirs he thinks purpose into the potion. It will take away Prometheus’s last few days through his memories. After all, everyone knows that time is an illusion of the mind. So what the mind doesn’t remember, time forgets as well. 

Satisfied that the potion knows what it must do, Jungkook passes the cup to Prometheus. 

The titan looks into the cup with such a blind determination that Jungkook hesitates. 

Even the flames hold their movement as Jungkook holds a hand over the top of the potion. “Are you sure this is what you want? Not to trash on your creations, but humans kinda suck.”

Prometheus offers a smile. His looks at Jungkook with those same eyes that always seem to be expressing various emotions all at the same time. 

“Are you familiar with the story of “Those Who Walked Away from Omelas,” Jungkook?”

Jungkook is confused by the question but answers, “A little. My eighth grade teacher had us read it once. It’s about a utopia with a dark secret or something. Right?”

Prometheus nods. “I have read it through the eyes of many different people and have heard their own choices. It’s strangely one of my favorite things to know about someone, whether they’d stay in their utopian city knowing the true reason for why they all could be so happy or if they’d walk away in search of the place other people must have gone. What struck me the most, is that over time some people change their minds. The first time they read it, they passionately decide to walk away. Years later, they remember the story and the child locked in the basement and think about how them staying or going means no difference. The child will suffer either way, and the city will go on. So, why not stay.” 

Jungkook frowns. “Is this you choosing to stay?”

Prometheus chuckles to himself. “Frankly, I don’t have that option of choice making. Because in this situation, I’m the kid. And you have to decide if you want to walk away from mankind or choose to remain in it.” He pokes at Jungkook’s hand still over the cup, “Like I said before, I made my decision in the beginning, and it hasn’t changed nor will it ever.”

Jungkook removes his hand from the cup.

Prometheus’s smile grows a size before he adds, “Besides, can’t let the gods use me as their bargaining chip for the end of the world, now can we?” 

The Titan lifts the cup to his mouth and starts to drink.

Jungkook hums the incantation that’s meant to compliment it, finding that singing guides spells more precisely for him. 

“ If I could turn back time,
I’d take back what once was mine. 
Please give me a memory
That will be left behind just for me.”

____________________

Thanatos jerks awake. He sees the same grey clouds he sees everyday swirling above him. 

Foggy memories of the last trip down to earth bounce around in his head. Depending on the connections with whoever he follows through life, when he returns back into his own consciousness, he either remembers every detail or murky parts, pieces of the most important events. 

He can only recall whoever he had been was frustrated and lost until a little witch and their companions saved his person. 

Or had the person he’d been just watched The Wizard of Oz and Prometheus was confused? 

He didn’t really know. Maybe the next life will be easier to remember. 

He can feel something tug at the bonds across his body but chooses to ignore. It’s not like something or someone is going to free him any time soon. He snorts to himself.

“Prometheus!”

The Titan jumps, or twitches in his tied up case. 

He looks around until he sees Bia, his celestial babysitter. 

He glares at the rudeness, “What?!” He yells back.

“Has anyone told you about your humans.”

Prometheus blinks as her. Why would anyone tell him about his creations? Not that he needed them to. But still. That’s a no no on Zeus’s list of rules that just say “1) Do not speak to Prometheus about the mortals 2) Please do not feed the eagle before it consumes Prometheus’s liver”. 

He cocks an eyebrow. What do you think?

“The creatures you loved enough to spend an eternal life of pain and carnage for power Zeus. As soon as he had you locked away, he told them all that he was their god. He made them all believe that he was the reason they lived. You are but a myth to them. A story told to teach lessons not to teach them of their creation.”

Bia looks into his eyes with far too much vengeance burning behind them for it to be this early in the day. Or was it night? Beats him.

“Of course now, the mortals don’t know they worship us. With the change of time, gods gain power through symbolism and stretched rules. All of us are stories to them actually, and yet they continue to feed us power by accident.”

Prometheus clears his throat, “And you’re telling me this because? Why do you gods talk so much? Just get to the point already, mother below.” 

“My point is, as the Goddess of Power, I believe that it is my duty to bestow power to its rightful place.”

Prometheus squints at her, “Why do all you gods speak like that? You didn’t learn it from us. Get to the point of your point or leave. I have an appointment with a feathered beast in a few hours, and I’d like to stare into oblivion until then. So, if you’ll so kindly go away, I’ll see you Thursday. 

“Prometheus. I’m giving you your humans back.”

He glares up at the sky, “Okay, sure. And we'll share a glass of wine poured straight from Dionysus’s teat afterward I suppose.” 

Bia stamps her spear on the rock like a child about to have a temper tantrum. “Will you just listen to me for five seconds?!”

Prometheus gets comfortable on his rock, squirming a millimeter or two. “Hmm- no I don’t think will.” 

And that’s when Prometheus starts humming a song he remembers from his walk among his creatures to the tune of “We’re Off to See the Wizard”.

He doesn’t hear Bia huff in annoyance, defeated by Prometheus’s audacity. 

She promptly spins on her heels and stomps back the way she came. 

____________________

“Jungkook.”

He grunts in his sleep, dragging his covers over his head.

“Jungkook!”

He presses his face to his pillow.

“Jeon. Jungkook.”

Jungkook cracks an eye open and peeks over his comforter.

“Mphhg?”

Yoongi is standing at the edge of his bed, a pillow weapon at the ready as he grumbles half asleep himself. 

“Get up. It’s Capture the Flag Day.”

Jungkook retreats back into his warm covers with a “Noooooo.”

“Yeesss. C’mon. Jimin has already been here twice beating on the door yelling for you. Something about new trap ideas. And if he does it again, I’m releasing him on you.”

Jungkook sighs. He kicks his blankets, and they flop in a heap on the floor. 

“I hate flag day.”

Yoongi scoffs, “So do I. Jimin, Hoseok, and Namjoon are some of the only psychopaths that love it.” He shoves a hoodie over his head. “Told Jimin you’d meet him at the cave. See you there.”

Jungkook lays there as Yoongi slips on sandals and shuffles out the door. 

If Jungkook wasn’t positive Jimin would come drag him out to the heart of battle, he’d just go back to sleep. So, he begrudgingly swings one legs over and then the other. 

Jungkook grabs a jacket from his closet before leaving. As he slips one hand through a sleeve, he rams his knuckles into the side of the dresser. 

He grunts and shoves the other arm through the second sleeve. Jungkook inspects his knuckles, pouting as a red droplet of blood says hello from a scrape. He sticks his knuckle in his mouth, and shoulders his way out of the cabin. 

As he walks across Camp Half Blood, he hums “If I Could Turn Back Time” by Cher to himself.