A Heroes of Olympus AU in which the world is an apocalyptic wasteland, the gods have disappeared, and a geeky Son of Hephaestus loses himself in a virtual reality.
Prologue
it's like forgetting the words to your favorite song
you can't believe it, you were always singing along
it was so easy and the words so sweet
you can't remember, you try to feel the beatEet, eet, eet
Eet, eet, eet
Eet, Regina Spektor
The building wasn't there before. You ask everyone in your tiny town if they'd seen the new old warehouse that popped up overnight like a fucking daisy right over there with all the other old warehouses. They stare at you like you're a madman, which you probably are, but that's not the point because you're telling the truth and it's really the truth this time you swear you're not lying. They say it's been there this whole time, and by they you mean everyone else around who would so much as look at you when you ask them. Everyone thinks it's been there the whole time and they all couldn't care any less.
'Not me', you think. You know you shouldn't even step as much as a toe in that place, because seriously who was crazy enough to enter a building that looked like it could fall apart any second?
'Me', you think.
And that's what runs through your mind the way over, yesterday's events replaying in your head. Before long you find yourself standing before it, the words Bunker Nine faded and hung above the doorframe. You hesitate before making a step inside, note that the roof had not yet collapsed, and take it as a sign of good luck. You walk in, each step slow and measuring. Your footfalls echo, and you're reminded of that story Piper told you once, about this girl who displeased a god and was cursed to repeat everything you told her.
"That's it for the night, Leo. I'm running out of Mythologies to tell you," she said.
You think that her voice sounded pretty hollow, just like Echo's voice, in this place filled with so much junk it feels empty. Just like you.
Stop it. There's no use in feeling self-pity.
There are wires hanging in the ceiling, scrap metal as far as the eye can see and holy shit is that gold? Assuming that every square foot of this floor was filled with about as much treasure as this heap before you, you estimate that by selling this you'd probably be oh….a billionaire overnight. The Leo before might have seen this as an opportunity to build whatever the Hades hell he liked, but present Leo is kinda hard pressed for tradeables now. Also, his stomach is grumbling.
So you press on, determined to memorize every inch of this godsend, and think of what you could sneak out and maybe trade. There's this orange toolbelt on one of the worktables. Perfect, look at all those pockets! Soon they're filled with tiny pieces of this weird glowing material, maybe-
Celestial bronze, your brain supplies.
What? You answer back.
As you climb up the stairs leading to the next floor, one of the steps crumble and maybe this wasn't such good idea. Of course it's not a good idea, who knows what could be lurking here? Maybe someone else found this before you. Nervously you pick up a rusty lead pipe. It'll have to do. Cautiously, silently, your feet inch towards an open room. You hear rustling. Someone else is here. They're bigger, meaner, and ready to kill anyone who gets in their way. Suddenly the pipe gets heavier in your hands, and your heart does too. You've been beaten a few times, usually by someone bigger who knows he can get that slightly less dirty bread you managed to scrounge. With resources this much, you can't get out of it without any bloodshed.
You jump in, planning to use the element of surprise to your advantage. And there's-
there's…
no one.
You let go of a breath you didn't realize you've been holding. There's an open window letting in the rare breeze, sending scraps of paper floating across the room. You slump against the wall, then stay as far away from it as possible. With your luck, it'll fall on you.
Your eyes land on it immediately. It looks used, caked with rust and dried oil.
"It's beautiful," you breathe.
A piece of scrap paper flies into your face, and you're about the throw it away when you notice the writing: big, bold, and in Ancient Greek.
I SHOULD THINK SO.
In a rush of panic you drop it. It lands on the floor, facedown. This time, more words stare at you. With trembling hands, you pick it up. They're directions.
DAEDALUS' VIRTUAL REALITY HELMET
For:
Clear-sighted Mortals- Please return to labyrinth, found at your nearest ∆
Monsters – never mind
Demigods- It's yours.
TO USE:
Step 1. Put on head. Turn on power button.
Step 2. Upon startup, choose your server. Options include Iris,
You pocket it. You'll examine it later, and hurriedly leave. This place is making your head ache. You don't want to grasp for information that you knew was there but is somehow not. It feels weird and unpleasant and
this place is seriously creepy.
Once you're out in the stagnant air, you run.
That's what you've been doing lately, anyway.
