FRANK was in big trouble.
Clarisse La Rue, head of Ares Block #3, was aggressively motioning for him to come over. She stood in the middle of the wide passage, the one that seemed fare too large to be called a hall, and glared at him with hate.
Clarisse glared at everything with hate, but she seemed to dislike Frank more than others. It made sense, in a way; Frank was, according to her, the wimpiest and weakest member of the Block Battalion. As a son of Mars, AKA Ares, he was expected to fight with a sword and enjoy the thrill of the battle. Instead, he preferred to use a bow and arrows and despised war.
Frank was refilling necessity pack at the other side of the passage. Each Block of soldiers held exactly forty of his half-siblings, meaning he had to have forty pack ready for combat.
Each pack held a roll of bandages, nectar, ambrosia, regular water, and a dagger for self-defense. If Frank were in charge he'd remove the godly food- some of the warriors were but descendants of Ares and couldn't eat any without combustion –and replace it with proper nourishment and better health supplies.
But Frank wasn't in charge, and he never would be. As the "Omega" of his group, the butt of the jokes and the loser of the Block, he'd be lucky to even become an official soldier. That was why he got the worst jobs, like refilling the stinky packs. But he had to drop them all now and heed Clarisse's order to come to her.
Frank put down the pack he held and clambered off the boards he was sitting on, careful not to disrupt anything. He brushed his uniform from dust, then set across the passage to Clarisse.
The passage, flowing with people, was a high-arched tunnel lit by many electric lights. As the main connection between the Blocks, it was always full of crowds. Frank once got the job of scrubbing its walls of filth; at two in the morning there were still large groups of pedestrians.
It could take Frank less than twenty seconds to jog across the width of the passage, but the people blocked the way like dirt in a bathtub drain.
Frank squeezed between many, making his way to Clarisse as fast as he could. The crowds' heat was immense, and when combined with Frank's physical work it was almost unbearable. By the time he reached Clarisse, Frank was dripping with light sweat.
She eyed him with disgust. "Wimp."
Frank had no choice but to accept that insult. It didn't bother him that much; after being called worse things a couple of times, "wimp" didn't seem that bad.
"Sorry, Clarisse." He said. "Midday crowds, you know?"
Clarisse raised a patronizing eyebrow.
"You need to command RESPECT, Zhang!" she bellowed at Frank, purposely causing eyes to swivel in his direction. "You need to show the crowd you are a SOLDIER!"
"Not yet, really…" Frank commented.
Clarisse smirked. "That's right, actually. You won't be a real soldier anytime soon. I might as well give you this task, seeing as you won't be busy."
Frank sighed. To be honest, he knew this was coming from the moment Clarisse had called him over. All she did was give him work to do.
"I'll gladly do it, but I need to refill the packs." Frank told Clarisse.
She waved her hand in dismissal. "They can wait. Do them tonight during your free time."
This was actually very unfair, but Frank didn't really have anything better to do in his free time. So he just nodded.
"Good! Okay, so you take this-"
Clarisse rummaged in her army backpack and pulled out a lumpy package, dropping it in Frank's arms.
"-And run it along to the Army Base HQ over in City Center. Understood, Zhang?"
Frank nodded again, looking like a bobble-head. City Center was easily half-an-hour's walk, both there and back; at least he'd miss Training Program. He HATED Training Program.
"Sure thing, Clarisse." Frank shifted the heavy package in his arms.
Clarisse smirked. "Great."
And with that, she stalked off into the crowd.
It was a hot, sweet-smelling day outside. Frank was thankful for the chance to walk along out of the Blocks; he'd spent the past three weeks cooped up inside. Cobblestone streets had never seemed so beautiful.
The ten Ares Soldier Blocks were located in the Warrior District, a small clump of underground training areas lit by florescent lights that smelled of metal. It was widely known that the Warrior District was perhaps the smallest and least needed of all Zeuopolis districts, considering its tiny size and the fact that it could easily fit beneath any other area. Frank was that it wasn't located beneath any other district, however, because that would lengthen his path to City Center by a good forty minutes.
He now strode through the narrow streets, trying to act casual despite the awkward bundle in his arms. Frank was strong, so the weight didn't bother him; rather, the burning curiosity was the burden. He'd peeked into the canvas folds before leaving, unable to resist the temptation, but all he saw was an oddly-shaped and bulky gun-like object with a large canister meant for bullets (or something like that). Frank was not an expert on Weaponry, but Ares Block #3 taught him enough for him to recognize that this was no ordinary gun. Which made the whole thing of carrying it down the street nonchalantly quite… odd.
Despite the scary weapon and long walk, Frank enjoyed his mission to Army Base HQ. It felt wonderful to stretch his legs instead of Training along with the other Ares brutes.
Frank's path led him straight across the north of Lower Zeuopolis, through the Market. If he's followed the market a little ways on he'd find himself in the Machinery District; further on he'd reach the polluted Slave Hut Riverbank; if he passed the market and gone deeper into Lower Zeuopolis, he'd reach the narrow streets where traders and storekeepers lived. Frank was not permitted to travel anywhere near these places; they were forbidden to all Soldiers except in case of war. He even kept his head down in the beautiful Demeter Courtyard, an open-air area with trees and towers and stalls of fresh food. The aroma of bread and honeysuckle overwhelmed Frank's senses, causing him to hurry away before he'd decide to look around.
The Army Base HQ was located in the fringes of City Center, a huge and bustling square where the most important of things took place. The middle of the Center was currently occupied by a large crowd of people in dignified clothes, carrying neat cases or boxes of all sorts of interesting objects. They seemed to be milling around something; Frank couldn't make out what it was.
"Hi!"
Frank jumped, spinning around in automatic reflex. The boy beside him cracked up.
"Holy Hera, your face!" he laughed.
Frank scowled. The kid was perhaps sixteen, around Frank's own age; still, he was scrawny and short and very obviously with Mexican heritage. His hair was curly and wild, popping about his face in the hot sun, and his skin was stained with grease and machine oil. Frank could see no connection between the dressed-up people in the crowd and the overall-wearing, grimy and grinning boy standing there.
"You shouldn't sneak up on people like that." Frank said.
The boy shrugged. "Sorry, man. It WAS funny. The name's Leo."
Frank glanced around him. "Wait, are you here for this carnival thing?"
Leo nodded. "It's Gods' Court, man. The big deal. Could be my big break. And my siblings', of course."
"You have siblings?"
"Yeah. Nyssa and Harley. Awesome guys. I really want the best for them, so-" Leo fingered a package in his pocket, "-I'm hoping this baby'll hit some jackpot with the judges."
Frank narrowed his eyes. "I'm guessing you're a child of Hephaestus."
"Guilty as charged." Leo spread his arms out. "You must be some kinda soldier dude. I think your HQ place is over there."
He pointed in a general direction.
"Oh. Thanks." Frank replied politely, deciding not to mention that he already knew where the Base was. "Good luck with your thing."
"Thanks!"
Frank walked away.
Army Base HQ accepted Frank's delivery with a grim nod and an order to cut his hair (Frank got that a lot). By the time he left the building, Leo had already gone. Fran hoped the guy earned some money. From the look of him, he deserved it.
It was still high afternoon as he walked back through the city; Frank was in a good mood. He kept his head up as he walked through Demeter's Courtyard, breathing in the fresh air.
Suddenly, a noise. Frank looked up, startled; there was a face in one of the tower windows. A girl. Afro-American. Scared. She locked gazes with Frank, her eyes pleading for help. Mouthed something, then slipped out of sight.
Frank leapt up and dashed for the tower doors.