Max POV

The next four days passed without conflict, no Erasers, no white-coats, no nothing. Just little ole' Max, soaring through the sky on her own. No tears. Nope, none.

After a quick pitstop at some suburban McDonalds–great last meal, I know–I took to the skies once again, soaring lazily over New York City. I wonder if I would die mid-flight. I almost laughed imaging how surprised the locals would be when a winged girl came pummeling from the sky. Probably not too surprised. Maybe a little disgusted seeing as my blood had stained their designer suit, but all in all just another day in New York, am I right? The tabloids would go crazy, that's for sure.

I coughed up another large dose of blood–I'm pretty sure that wasn't normal–and shook it off into the depths of New York. Hope I didn't ruin someone's day too badly. Actually, I didn't really care all too much. What can I say? I'm a bitter person.

It was really quiet up here, to the point of being insanely so. While I did often enjoy myself some quiet flying time, four days without someone–anyone–saying something became so mind-numbingly boring that I was tempted to belt out those odd punk-rock songs that Iggy listened to when he cooked something up in the kitchen. Used to, I suppose.

I probably would have, too, if it weren't for the sudden lack of quiet, interrupted by a noise that I never thought that I would hear again, much less as I was cruising at an altitude of about 700 meters. A car engine. A car engine. 700 meters up in the air. I must be dying, if I'm hearing car engines at 700 meters I must certainly be dying. Unless it was the great Orange Juice Gods coming to take me away to Bird-kid Heaven. Oh, I just knew that there was a place for Avian-Americans in Heaven!

"Hey, kid!" A sing-songy voice shouted out at me, making me jump. Can you even jump in mid air? Whether or not you can, the point is that I did, boosting my altitude of 700 meters to about 701 meters. To be fair, you'd jump too. If the great Orange Juice Gods had come to take you away to Bird-kid Heaven and had decided to do so in a car 700 meters in the air all the while calling you 'kid', I mean.

"Turn around, smart one." The sing-songy voice deadpanned, the effect slightly ruined by the snort that ended the sentence. Whipping around–which actually hurt quite a bit on the wings–I came face to face with an excessively handsome man who had his head lulling out the window of a flaming Lamborghini. Now, I don't mean flaming as in 'damn bro, that sure it a nice car.' I mean it as in 'GET YOUR WATER BUCKETS, CALL THE FIREMAN, THIS CAR IS ON FIRE.' Yeah, that sort of flaming.

"Um," I began, my voice unusually small as I hovered in the air, my auburn wings paled in comparison to this dudes flying car. Did he even notice that it was flying? "Your car is on fire."

The dude tilted his head, looking somewhat like a confused puppy before flinging it back and letting at a loud dad-esque laugh. Damn, those teeth. They literally sparkled, they were so white. I felt as if I was going blind just by looking at them. I let out my own awkward chuckle as his laugh continued on and on.

"Wow, kid! You sure are funny!" He sent me a dazzling smile, his teeth contrasting greatly but not unpleasantly with his golden tanned skin. "Now, get in."

My chuckle died in my throat. "Listen, dude. You may be mildly attractive and in a flying Lamborghini, but the fact that it is on fire and you have yet to pitch me some sort of sales price sort of have a giant 'NO' written across it."

"Seriously? No 'stranger danger' or nothing? Just my flaming hot car and the fact I haven't pitched you a sales deal?" He chuckled lightly, running a hand through his curly blond locks. He had the sort of looks that he could pull off the whole 'beach-bum hippy' look. Then again, he seemed to have the sort of ego so as not to do so. Shame. "Seeing as you can see the car, the flames have about a one in fifteen million seven hundred sixty five thousand and four chance of actually burning you. See?" With that he grabbed my wrist and set my hand onto his car. I flinched, but true to his words, the car didn't burn at all. If anything it left a strange but not uncomfortable tickling feeling on my hand.

"Hmph." I grunted, retracting my hand from the car. I personally did not like to shove my entire hand into live flames, thank you very much. "Alright, your flaming, flying car is a go. Now, how about your sales pitch?"

"Oh yeah! I was prepping for this on my drive here!" He grinned before his face morphed into one of serious and he stared at me from beneath his brow. "How would you like to live forever?"

I will admit, that sales pitch caused me to lose a few meters in altitude before erratically flapping my way back up the the mildly attractive man, his serious face being replaced with another funky grin stretching across his face.

"How was that? Did it seem serious enough? Are you all green lights for it?" He asked excitedly.

"Umm…is this real?" I responded dumbly, pretty sure that my mouth was hanging open.

He deadpanned once again. "You are a girl with 16 foot wings and I am a god inside of a flying Lamborghini that is on fire and that is what you're asking about?"

"Yes," I replied before my eyes widened almost comically, "wait, you're a god?"

"Yes I am, little missy! Now, get into the car if you'd like to become one too!" He smiled invitingly at me.

"What do I have left to lose?" I asked out loud with a sigh, swooping over to the other side of the car, tucking my wings in as I entered the small car.

"Haha! Welcome to the Sun Machine, little missy! Don't touch nothing and I'm sure that we'll get along just fine!" He cheered as he slowly brought the car into reverse.

"Why are you putting the car in reverse? We're literally in the sky. Also, my name isn't Little Missy, it's Max."

"Air traffic regulations, Little Missy."

"My name is Max." I grunted through my teeth, already pissed off at the dude.

"And I'm Apollo! However, I don't believe now is the time for introductions; I've got some Selena Gomez to listen to right now!"

He reached over and turned on the radio, an especially annoying song blaring through the speakers.

"Er…I mean 'I've got some Maroon 5 to listen to!' Yeah, that's what I meant." He laughed awkwardly.

I rolled my eyes and bit back the ever prevalent question of 'what the heck is a Maroon 5?' in favor of staring out the window at the skyline of New York.

Surprisingly enough, flying didn't give you too many opportunities to look at your surroundings. You were usually too involved with your own thoughts or with listening to others. Plus, while flying often came as second nature to us Avian-Americans, more often than not I would get caught in a particularly sticky flying situation and was forced to focus less on the sights and more on preventing myself from crashing headfirst into the semi-truck slowly cruising its way beneath me.

Still, I suppose that looking at the skyline beneath me was relaxing, shades of grey and black and white were enhanced by the windows that colorfully reflected the sun. If I looked down at the roads I was able to see cars zooming through the street and people marching dutifully along the sidewalks.

"So…" The guy–A-Pole, was it?–started as the radio switched over to some other obnoxious pop song that I probably should have been able to identify seeing as I had lived with Angel and Nudge, but I couldn't so I simply tuned into whatever A-Pole was saying. "You're Maximum Ride, right?"

I squinted at the man, obviously suspicious that he knew my full name. Then again, this day had already been odd enough not to mention I would probably be dying in a few hours. Sighing, I leant back in my seat and watched as he plowed through the few low lying clouds that hung in front of us. "Just Max is fine."

"Alright! Good to know I didn't accidentally grab the wrong flying bird kid!" He laughed at himself as if the prospect of flying bird kids was the most hilarious thing since…I don't know…swimming frog men? Wait, wasn't that that one show that Gazzy liked to watch? The one about the turtles fighting crime? No, then it would be swimming turtle men. "Hey, you still there?"

"Hmm?" I blinked out of my thoughts as the man snapped his fingers in front of my face. "Yeah, yeah, I'm here." I glanced around the interior of the car before turning back to the dude. "Er, A-Pole, right? Just who exactly are you?"

A-Pole scoffed at me. "First of all, it's pronounced Ah-Paul-Oh. Apollo. And secondly, I already told you! I'm a god!"

"Yeah, I don't remember you mentioning that second part." I pointed out. Actually, yes I did, but with little to no explanation having been given to me, this was the best way for me to gather the information I needed.

He waved his hand in dismissal, "It was only in passing."

I hummed in slight confusion. "So, wait, if you're God, does that mean that I'm dead?"

Apollo–what an odd name for God to go by–laughed manically as he swerved so as to avoid hitting a bird. "No, no. I'm not 'God', Hades no. That would be weird. Rather, I am one god among many."

"Right…" I agreed awkwardly. "I'm not really following you here Mister God not God."

"Okay, so have you ever heard any of those Greek myths and such?"

"In passing."

"Smartass," He mumbled under his breath before focusing back on the sky in front of him. "Well, even in passing you should have heard about the Gods and Goddesses. There's the 'Big Three', Zeus, the king of the gods and the skies, Poseidon, the king of the seas and storms, and Hades, the god of the dead. There are ten other major gods. Well, nine really but you've gotta include Hera or else she'll, like, kill you. There's Hera, Zeus's wife and the goddess of marriage, Athena, the goddess of wisdom, Artemis, the goddess of the hunt and the moon, Ares, the god of war, Demeter, the goddess of agriculture, Dionysus, the god of wine, Aphrodite, the goddess of love and beauty, Hephaestus, the god of the forge, Hermes, the god of messages, and the best god of them all!"

He sent a dazzling smile over to me, his teeth shining brighter than snow on a sunny day. "Me! I'm the great Apollo! God of archery, music, poetry, prophecy, medicine, and the sun! The best goddamn god you'll ever meet!" He snickered slightly at what he had just said.

I sent him a look of disbelief which he quickly countered. "You are in a flying, flaming car. This car is literally the sun. Don't doubt me, Little Missy."

I rolled my eyes. "Alright, Smart Guy–"

"I actually prefer good looking guy or extremely artistic guy. Smart is more Athena's thing."

I glared at him, effectively shutting him up. Good job, Max. I mentally gave myself a high five. "Whatever. The point it, if you and your druggie scientists-who-invented-a-flying-car friends are supposed 'Greek gods', why are you in America and not in, oh I don't know, Greece?"

"Alright, so there's this great super imposed power called 'the flame of the west.' Or perhaps it's 'the flame of the east?' Eh, whatever it is, it basically moves wherever Western culture is strongest-so flame of the west it is, I guess-and us gods get dragged along after it. It started out in Greece, of course, but it moved to Rome, that's where you get those nasty Roman gods from. Cheap copies of us Greeks, really. Anyways, it's been all over Europe. Spain, France, Prussia, England, Scandinavia. We've never actually been to Russia, though. Despite that, now we're in America because that's where Western culture is the strongest.

"As a matter of fact, we've been here in America for a long time. Our children, called demigods, have greatly influenced just about everything here in America. You can see it in the architecture, all the columns and such, and the language. Sure there's a bunch of Latin and stuff mixed in but those cheap Roman gods follow us everywhere so I guess that makes sense. The other reason that we aren't in Greece or nothing is the simple fact that their economy is going downhill. I have prophesied that they'll be in great debt in a few years. Like, deep deep doo-doo. The whole Euro-zone is gonna be pissed at them."

"Right…" I agreed slowly. While I would usually call him crazy, that story sure did have a hell of a lot of detail. Plus, I didn't really have anything else to believe. If there really were old ass Greek gods making their way downtown in flying Lamborghini's, who was I to argue?

It was silent for a while as Apollo hummed along to some song on the radio. God, my skin was itching like crazy at the nape of my neck. I felt as if I would have to peel it off to stop it from itching.

"Here we are!" Apollo cheered, taking his hands off the steering wheel and clapping like a little kid as we approached the top of the famous Empire State Building. Except, it wasn't the top. Instead there was a floating…cloud would be the only appropriate term for it. This cloud was huge, and I repeat huge. Built up on the cloud was a town, one similar to the one in that video Iggy was 'watching' about a big volcano some thousands of years ago in Italy.

I whistled appreciatively. "I have to be dead. Is this bird-kid heaven?"

"Nope!" Apollo giggled–yes, he giggled. Like a little girl. "This is Olympus. Granted, it's not the original Mount Olympus but you can't expect us to just tote around a mountain wherever we go. Plus, we couldn't exactly set up base camp at Mount McKinley. Then we'd be at the opposite point of the magic flame that had been summoned to America."

He lowered his car onto the base of the large mountain-cloud thing that stretched out before me. Quickly getting out, I stared incredulously at the view in front of me. I was quite tempted to rush over to the edge of the floating cloud and look out over it.

"Wait." I said, swinging around to face Apollo who had gotten out of the car–which had magically disappeared. "Why don't the people down there see all of this?" I pointed to my feet, as if indicating all of the New Yorkers marching along like ants.

"The mortals?" He mused, beginning to walk up a large, curvy path that led up to the top of the mountain where a large parthenon rested. I followed him. "They can't see through the mist. That's basically the curtain that keeps the mortals living their own little lives, blissfully unaware of what we're doing. I suppose it's like a one way glass. We can see them but they cannot necessarily see us."

"Not necessarily?" I asked, trying not to stare as a group of men with the legs of a goat threw a frisbee back and forth.

"Yeah. It's only like a one way glass in a few aspects. If one of the gods, myself included, goes cruising down the streets, people will see us. However, if one of the gods, myself included, is in a flying, burning Lamborghini, we can twist the mist to cover it up enough so that people simply believe that it's a bird or something."

"Huh." I grunted trying to ignore the fact that I was covered in cold clammy sweat and felt as if I were about to pass out at any moment. Dying sure did have a few setbacks. I relaxed my wings out, allowing them to drag on the warm pavement behind me. I can't believe that I had stooped so low.

Glancing down at my feet, I studied the beat up black chucks I had on. These weren't even my shoes. These were Fang's. Why they were in my bathroom I honestly couldn't fathom why. Really, it was a mystery to me.

I forced my eyes away from the shoes–just looking at them made me want to cry–and instead focused on Apollo. Who was gone. "Apollo?" I called out, confused as to where he had gone. The only thing around was the large, slightly intimidating up close parthenon. Honestly, this thing had to be like three times as large as the one in Greece.

Running a hand over one of the large white columns, I took a hesitant step inside the seemingly dark building. As soon as both of my feet were firmly planted inside the building, it suddenly lit up and, lo and behold, 12 twenty foot chairs occupied by 12 twenty foot giants sprung to life.

I let out a–totally manly–shriek and jumped a good foot into the air. Glancing around the group of giants, all of which had their eyes judgmentally glued on poor little ole' me, I spotted Apollo. Except, you know, he was now a twenty foot giant and was perched on a chair that seemed to be woven out of light itself.

"Maximum Ride!" A large booming voice echoed from the front of the room, making me jump again as I turned to look at yet another giant. This one had salt and pepper hair and a beard and was wearing a pinstripe suit. Business giant. Got it. "Welcome home, my daughter."

My face contorted with confusion as the Business Giant shrunk down to the regular Business Man size and pulled me in for a hug.

Now, you may or may not know this about me, but personal space is a pretty big deal. I only ever let the flock all group hug me–well, Fang got pulled into it, but whatever–because I was comfortable with them. However, if a giant in a pinstripe suit suddenly shrinks down to human size and hugs me, expecting me to take it like a cup of coffee from Starbucks, you've got another thing coming for you, bub.

As soon as he wrapped his arms around me I froze up before striking him swiftly in the armpits and kicking the back of his knees, knocking him to the ground.

He looked stunned, as if he hadn't expected me to do that. For such an old guy, he got up surprisingly fast. Actually, it was like he was under my foot one moment and back to his giant form, glaring down at Apollo the next. Was it just my imagination or was that thunder?

"I thought you had told her, Apollo!" He thundered at Apollo, his eyes all but shooting lightning bolts down at the supposed sun god. How could this guy go from 'hello daughter, tis I, Business Giant' to 'I WILL RIP YOUR HEAD OFF AND FEAST UPON IT IN FRONT OF YOUR CHILDREN' in about two point five seconds?

"Yo, Zeus, my man," Apollo began, holding his hands up as if surrendering, "I totally did. I told her all 'bout the gods and the magical flame and stuff."

"And, Apollo," A woman from across the room asked in an annoyed voice. "did you happen to mention lineage. You know, the quote-end-quote single most important thing you were to tell her."

Apollo's face flashed in recognition before he laughed nervously. "Nope, I didn't. Must've slipped my mind." He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, looking guiltily up at the Business Giant, Zeus or whatever. "Sorry 'bout that, man."

Zeus sighed and rubbed his temples before flashing back to a Human Sized Businessman. Why in the world was I not freaked out by this? On second thought, I was already going crazy, it would probably be best not to question my sanity–or perhaps my insanity?

"Maximum Ride." Little Zeus said, standing a proper distance away from me. I still tensed up and my wings shifted slightly, drawing the attention of many of the giants, a few of which gasped very…dramatically. "I am your father."

"Listen, bro, this isn't Star Wars and I really don't appreciate your weird jokes right now. Can one of ya'll just kill me or something, I'm pretty tired of all this suspense."

The hall was silent other than a small snort coming from a human sized man who sat in a lawn chair at the end of the big giant seats. I hadn't even noticed him before. Sorry weird lawn chair man.

Little Zeus shook his head as if to dismiss what I had just said. "Listen, Maximum. I am your father, I really am."

"Right." I said sarcastically. "Now let's just say that I, hypothetically, believe all the bullshit you're spouting out right now. All is fine, right? Wrong. It seems that, in this hypothetical situation, I have no mother. And, taking a look into the real world and not this strange little fantasy world you giants are living in, I already have a father and he is already big enough of an asshole, I don't need you to fill in that position as well."

Little Zeus look flustered, as if he couldn't believe I had just said that to his face. I even heard a few snickers flitter throughout the giants, and the giant in a–giant–fishing seat along with the human sized man in a lawn chair really did burst out in loud booming laughter.

"Silence!" He boomed, silencing all of the tittering other than the lawn chair guy, who only laughed louder. A glare from a giant lady sitting in a throne of corn, barley, cotton, and tractor parts shut him up. Little Zeus cleared his throat before turning to face me once again. "Your mother is Asteria, the Titan goddess of the oracles and prophecies of night, including prophetic dreams, the reading of the stars, and necromancy."

A giant lady whose throne was laden with peacock feathers made a noise of disapproval as she glared down at me. Damn, who shit in your cornflakes, lady?

"As for your 'father,'" Zeus said, "I sent you down to Jeb so that you could live a normal life."

I snorted. "I have wings infused into my back. What's 'normal' about that?" My snort, however, quickly turned to coughing. Burying my mouth in my hand, I tried to silence myself as the hall of gods all stared down at me, some confused and some worried. The peacock lady simply looked unsympathetic.

"Maximum, are you alright?" Little Zeus asked, taking a hesitant step forward, as if unsure of what to do.

I waved him off as I continued to hack up my lungs. Finally the coughing stopped and I quickly wiped the blood I had coughed up on my pants before swiping the back of my hand across my mouth. I suppose coughing up blood came along with dying.

I looked at Zeus, who still looked pretty anxious. "Eh, whatever. I never believed Jeb's b-s story anyways. Now, let's just say that I do believe you, which I'm not saying that I do, but let's just say. Now what? What was the big deal about bringing me here?"

"Maximum, you are the daughter of a god and a titan goddess. This makes you a goddess."

"A goddess?" I echoed in disbelief.

"Yes, a goddess."

I shook my head. "Alright, whatever. I suppose now's the point in which I ask you 'goddess of what,' am I correct?"

Zeus nodded. "Yes, Maximum. You are the goddess of mutation and aviation as well as the wild."

I groaned and rubbed tiredly at my temples. I never knew that I had a limitation to how much bullshit I could handle in a day. "I thought that one guy, Pot or whatever, was god of the wild."

"Pan." Zeus corrected, wiping his hand on his pinstripe suit, leaving a very obvious trail of sweat behind it. "And yes, he was. However, he has died and our only other choice of the job position would rather not be a god so we have decided to set the title down upon you seeing as you are to become the goddess of aviation."

"Why don't you just force it upon him? It'll be quite similar to how you're forcing all of these lies on me."

Zeus glared at me but didn't attempt to retaliate to my comment. "He is a mortal, and unlike us immortals, he was granted with the undeniable right to refuse or accept something like this. However, you, Maximum, were born a goddess. You were born immortal and have had these powers and this title ever since your life began."

"Okay, okay, whatever you say, old man." I complied. It was obvious this guy just wasn't giving up. Better to simply make him happy rather than argue. I would be dead in a few hours anyways so anything that he said to me didn't really matter. "Just, what do I have to do?"

He looked surprised that I had agreed so willingly before looking pleased with himself that he had gotten me to agree. Trust me, old man, it isn't anything like that. Taking a step back, he grew to his giant form and settled back on his giant seat, where the peacock lady turned to scowl at him. He, however, was instead staring at me, a large smile plastered on his face.

"Repeat after me." He said. I nearly rolled my eyes. What was this? Judge Judy? I was supposedly signing up to be a goddess but I felt more like a witness to a crime. "'I, Maximum Ride, acknowledge the fact that, as the daughter of the god Zeus and the Titan goddess Asteria, I am held as the goddess of mutation and aviation."

"I, Maximum Ride, acknowledge the fact that, as the daughter of the god Zeus and the Titan goddess Asteria, I am held as the goddess of mutation and aviation."

"'I also acknowledge the fact that I shall uphold the legacy of my mother by representing everything that she once did and shall uphold the legacy of Pan, the god of the wild, hunting and companion of the nymphs and therefore represent everything that he once did.'"

Wait, my mother? Little Zeus didn't mention this before he became Big Zeus. Eh, whatever keeps these creepy giants happy. "I also acknowledge the fact that I shall uphold the legacy of my mother by representing everything that she once did and shall uphold the legacy of Pan, the god of the wild, hunting and companion of the nymphs and therefore represent everything that he once did." I didn't even know how I had remembered all of that. I deserved a round of applause for that, really.

"'With this oath, I swear that I shall use my powers to keep the Greek order and uphold the legacy of Olympus. I will use the powers invested within me to protect Olympus and protect anyone who is under my care.'"

"With this oath, I swear that I shall use my powers to keep the Greek order and uphold the legacy of Olympus. I will use the powers invested within me to protect Olympus and protect anyone who is under my care." I repeated in a bored tone of voice.

Suddenly, the sensation of heat shot up my spine, causing me to seize up. Then, my entire body felt as if it were on fire before it was quickly doused in what felt like ice. It felt as if no one else was around me and I shut my eyes, squeezing them tightly. I let out a gasp and my eyes shot open as the entire hall of gods stared down at me.

I looked down at myself. I was draped in a white Greek tunic and sandals that strapped around me calves. My hair seemed to have been cut, the usual uneven chops being replaced with long loose curls. Hell, even my wings felt lighter, if that made sense. I resisted the urge to look back at them. Best to not seem too egotistical.

Zeus's face broke out into a large smile as he stood up, opening his arms. "All hail Maximum!" His voice boomed. "The thirteenth Olympian!"

Well, damn. Guess who's not dying today?