I awoke in an unknown place.
Mountains of bright red sand surrounded me, stretching endlessly in every direction.
"Where am I?" I muttered aloud, only to instantly regret it as I spat out a mouthful of grit.
The air was thin, dry—lifeless. A dull wind howled across the dunes, whispering in a language I couldn't understand. Above me, the sky was an endless expanse of burnt orange, choked with swirling dust. No stars. No sun. Just the void, stretching forever.
Brushing the coarse grains from my clothes, I stood. My boots sank slightly into the sand as I turned in place, scanning the horizon. Nothing. No ruins, no structures, no signs of life. Just an endless desert of rust-colored dunes.
Yet, something about this place felt... wrong.
The air thrummed—not with life, but with something deeper, something vast and unknowable. It wasn't the Warp, not entirely, but it wasn't realspace either. It was like standing at the edge of a cliff, staring into an abyss without a bottom.
I moved forward, my steps slow and deliberate. The sand shifted beneath me, whispering as it slipped away. The further I walked, the heavier the air became, thick with a pressure I couldn't explain. My ears rang. My chest tightened. But I pushed on.
Then, the dunes ended.
The sand fell away into jagged cliffs, revealing a canyon stretching beyond my sight. And at the bottom, half-buried in the earth, lay something impossible.
A monolith of black metal. Fractured. Broken. Yet still pulsing with an eerie, inner glow. Its surface rippled, shifting like liquid mercury, as if reality itself struggled to define what it was.
And then, I heard it.
A deep, resonant hum—more felt than heard. It vibrated through my bones, through the ground, through the very air.
The monolith was not dead. It was sleeping.
No. Not sleeping.
Waiting.
I took a step closer—
And the world shattered.
The sand erupted, torn asunder by a force beyond reckoning. A roar split the air, vast and consuming, not just a sound but an event—something that reshaped existence itself.
I was thrown back, rolling across the dunes like a ragdoll. I gasped, lungs burning, and forced my eyes open.
I saw it.
Rising from the canyon, wreathed in shadow and fire, was a dragon.
Not a beast of flesh and blood, but something far older, far greater. Its form was both solid and shifting, made of liquid metal and crackling energy. As if the concept of a dragon had been forged into something real. Something absolute.
Twin suns of electric fury burned in its eyes as they locked onto me.
I couldn't move.
It reared back, jagged wings unfurling in arcs of black lightning. Reality trembled around it, bending, warping, rewriting itself.
It opened its maw—an abyss of pure annihilation.
I knew, in that moment, that I was going to die.
A flash of white-hot energy surged toward me—
And I woke up.
Gasping.
Heart pounding.
Something wet and rough dragged across my face.
I blinked, disoriented, and found myself staring into the dark, gleaming eyes of Ananke. The hydra's heads tilted, tongues flicking out as she licked my cheek again. Her breath was warm, oddly reassuring.
"Rise and shine, Cat Boy," Thalia muttered, her voice dry with pain. She was leaning against the alley wall, holding a hand against her fractured leg. "Have a nice nap?"
I sat up slowly, rubbing the sleep—or whatever was left of that dream—out of my eyes. Ananke let out a huff, curling protectively around me, her tongues flicking in the air. The alley smelled of damp concrete, garbage, and faint car exhaust.
"I didn't sleep in," I mumbled, still shaking off the lingering weight of the dream. "I just... didn't want to get up."
Thalia snorted before wincing as she shifted. "That's the same thing." She grimaced, rubbing her swollen leg. "What's got you looking like death warmed over?"
I hesitated.
Telling her about the dream was pointless. They already thought I was weird, and explaining that I'd come face-to-face with a dragon made of liquid metal and annihilation wasn't exactly normal breakfast conversation.
Instead, I stretched and looked around.
Luke was sitting against the wall, tossing a golden drachma in the air, catching it with practiced ease. His expression was distant, thoughtful. Annabeth sat cross-legged beside him, her nose buried in a crumpled tourist map of Wisconsin. She glanced up as I moved, sharp brown eyes scanning me like she was piecing together a puzzle.
"You're twitchy," she noted. "Something happen?"
I shook my head. "Bad dream."
Annabeth didn't look convinced, but she didn't push.
Luke flipped the coin one last time before catching it, eyes narrowing. "Well, good morning, Sleeping Beauty. While you were off having nightmares, Annabeth and I were figuring out our next move."
I glanced at the map. "And?"
"We need to find a safer place to sleep," Annabeth said, tapping a spot on the paper. "This alley is fine for now, but it's only a matter of time before someone calls the cops. Or worse—monsters."
As if on cue, Ananke let out a low rumble, her tails flicking. To mortals, thanks to the Mist, she was just a mangy pit bull. To us, she was a hydra.
Thalia winced as she adjusted her injured leg, shooting Luke an annoyed look. "And where exactly are we supposed to go? Doubt a five-star hotel is in our budget."
Luke caught the drachma, slipping it into his pocket. "We need somewhere quiet, off the radar, and preferably not crawling with monsters." He hesitated. "I know a place."
Annabeth frowned. "Where?"
Luke rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly looking uncomfortable. "My mom's house."
Silence.
Thalia blinked. "Wait. You mean the house? The one with the creepy visions and—"
"Yes," Luke cut in, jaw tightening. "That house."
Annabeth frowned. "I thought you swore never to go back."
Luke let out a slow breath, fingers drumming against his knee. "I did. But Thalia's leg is getting worse, we're low on supplies, and I don't see any better options." He looked at her. "You need rest. Real rest. Or you'll be limping into the next fight."
Thalia scowled but didn't argue. "Fine. But if your mom starts spouting prophecy nonsense at me, I'm leaving."
Luke smirked, though there wasn't much humor in it. "Noted."
Annabeth looked between them, then at me. "You okay with this, Khaine?"
I shrugged. "I go where you guys go."
Luke nodded, standing. "Alright. Westport's a ways from here. Let's move."
We gathered our things—what little we had—and slipped out of the alley. The early morning streets were crisp, quiet. No monsters. Yet.
As we walked, I found myself glancing at Luke. He wasn't talking much. His grip on his golf club was tight, his posture tense.
Going back home wasn't something he wanted to do.
And that made me wonder—if even he was wary of that place, just how bad was it?
The walk to Westport felt longer than it actually was. Maybe it was the weight of Thalia leaning on my shoulder, her injury slowing us down. Maybe it was the tension rolling off Luke in waves as we got closer to his old home. Annabeth kept glancing at him, brows furrowed, but she didn't say anything. Even Ananke, usually content to slink beside me like a living shadow, was restless, her heads constantly turning to sniff the air.
Westport was different from the other towns we'd passed through. It was cleaner, quieter—too quiet. The kind of quiet that felt unnatural, like the world was holding its breath. The houses were big, the streets lined with trees, and everything looked perfect in that way only rich mortal neighborhoods did. But I knew better than to trust appearances.
Luke led the way, his steps more hesitant the closer we got. When we finally stopped, I knew we'd arrived.
The house might've been beautiful once, but time had worn it down. The shutters peeled in strips, the porch sagged, and the yard was a mess of weeds. But that wasn't what made my skin crawl.
It was the house itself.
It watched.
Not literally—there were no eyes, no shifting shadows—but I felt it. The walls remembered things they shouldn't. The air inside had been stretched too thin, as if something unseen had pressed against it for too long. The house wasn't just abandoned.
It was waiting.
Luke swallowed hard and started to move forward—only to be stopped by a booming voice from above.
"You shouldn't have returned."
We all looked up.
A man sat perched in a tree, his form shifting like a glitch in reality. One second he was a police officer, the next a track star. Then, for some reason, he looked like that Hamilton guy Annabeth once told me about. For a brief moment, he was back to being the cop—only with a ridiculous bowl cut.
Then he landed lightly on the ground, his form stabilizing into a middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair, an athletic build, and a smirk that didn't quite reach his eyes. He wore a bomber jacket over a casual button-up and jeans, but there was something wrong about him. Not in a monstrous way, not like the things that hunted us, but like he didn't belong here. Like he was just visiting.
Luke's grip on his golf club tightened. "Who are you?"
The man tilted his head. "You don't recognize me?" He sighed dramatically. "Kids these days. No respect for their elders."
Thalia tensed beside me, despite her injured leg, her eyes flickering with electricity. "You're not mortal."
"Obviously," the man said, almost amused. "But you? You're a little spark of fun. Zeus' kid, huh? Can't say I'm surprised."
Thalia scowled. "You know my dad?"
The man snorted. "Know him? We work together." He grinned like he'd just told a great joke. "Well, in a manner of speaking."
Annabeth stepped forward, studying him. I could see her mind racing, putting the pieces together.
"You're a god," she said slowly.
"Sharp one, aren't you?" He grinned. "Athena's kid, I take it. Always thinking, always analyzing. Good, good."
Annabeth's eyes narrowed. "Who are you?"
The smirk didn't waver, but something in his gaze shifted—sharp, knowing. Like he was weighing whether or not to tell us.
Then he looked at Luke.
"Well now," he said, too casually. "Look at you. Been a while, hasn't it?"
Luke stiffened. His expression darkened in a way I'd never seen before. He stepped forward, jaw clenched, knuckles white around his golf club.
"You have no right to be here," Luke said coldly. "Leave."
The man raised an eyebrow. "You sure about that?"
Luke didn't answer.
I glanced between them. Whatever was happening, it wasn't just a random encounter. There was history here—bad history.
The man exhaled, shaking his head. "Still holding onto all that anger, huh?" His voice softened just a little. "Kid, I know I—"
"Shut up."
The words cracked through the air like a whip.
Luke's face was unreadable, but his hands were shaking. His whole body was tense, like he was barely holding something back.
Thalia frowned. "Luke?"
He didn't look at her. His eyes were locked on the man in front of us.
Annabeth swallowed. "Luke... do you know him?"
Silence.
Then, in a voice lower, rougher, Luke answered.
"It's Hermes."
I blinked. The name meant nothing to me at first—just another Greek god. Another name from the stories they'd been telling me.
But Annabeth froze. Thalia sucked in a sharp breath.
And Luke...
Luke looked like he wanted to tear something apart.
Hermes—if that was really him—watched Luke carefully, his expression unreadable. "So you do recognize me."
Luke's grip on his golf club tightened. "Yeah," he said, voice like stone. "I do."
"What do you want?"
Hermes sighed, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. "Straight to the point. Just like your mother." His expression softened for a second—then disappeared. "I came to see you, Luke."
Luke laughed bitterly. "Oh, now you care?" His knuckles turned white. "Where were you when she lost her mind? When I had to run? When I had to take care of everything on my own?"
A shadow crossed Hermes' face—guilt, regret. But it was gone in an instant, replaced by an easy, unreadable expression.
"I've always cared, Luke," Hermes said, quieter now. "But gods don't get to do what we want. We have rules."
Luke shook his head, trembling with anger. "Must be nice. Having an excuse for abandoning your own kid."
I stayed quiet. Thalia looked ready to punch something. Annabeth was analyzing everything. Ananke, for once, was silent, all her heads focused on Hermes.
Hermes exhaled, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Look, I didn't come here to fight. I came to warn you."
"Warn me about what?" Luke spat.
Hermes' gaze flickered toward the house. "Your mother. And what's inside."
A cold weight settled in my stomach.
"You shouldn't be here," Hermes continued. "That house—it's not safe. Not for you. Not for any of you."
Luke's jaw clenched. "I don't care."
Hermes studied him for a long moment before sighing. "Yeah. I figured you'd say that."
Then, in a blur, he reached into his jacket and tossed something at Luke. Instinctively, Luke caught it—an ornate bronze sword, the blade gleaming in the dim light.
Luke stared at it, confused. "What—?"
"Consider it a late gift," Hermes said. "From a father who wishes things were different."
For a moment, something flickered across Luke's face—something raw and vulnerable. But then it was gone, buried under years of resentment.
Luke tucked the sword into his belt. "We don't need your help."
Hermes nodded, unsurprised. He turned to me.
"And you..." His eyes narrowed. "You don't belong here, do you?"
I frowned. "You already said that."
Hermes tilted his head, studying me like I was a puzzle missing its final piece. "No, I said you all shouldn't be at this house. You—you shouldn't exist." His expression darkened, the ever-present smirk slipping for the first time. "There's something about you... something I can't quite place. And it's not just the cat ears."
His eyes narrowed. "You radiate something akin to Hera."
I blinked. Hera? That was the queen of the gods, right? The one Thalia warned me never to make eye contact with if we ever ran into her. But that didn't make any sense. What did I have to do with her?
Thalia's grip tightened on my shoulder. "That's impossible," she said, but there was hesitation in her voice. She looked at Hermes like she wanted him to take it back.
Annabeth, always the strategist, was watching me now, her storm-gray eyes sharp with calculation. "Hera's not exactly known for taking an interest in... kids."
I shifted under their scrutiny, my ears flicking involuntarily. Beside me, Ananke rumbled low in her throat, her tails curling protectively around my legs.
Hermes was still watching, unreadable. "No, she isn't. But there's something there. Something familiar." He clicked his tongue. "And I don't like not knowing things."
Luke scoffed. "That makes two of us." He crossed his arms. "You done being cryptic, or are you actually going to tell us something useful?"
Hermes sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "You kids. So much hostility." He glanced at Luke again, something unspoken flickering in his gaze before he turned back to me. "Whatever it is, it's subtle. Faint. Maybe even incomplete."
Then his attention shifted to Ananke. His smirk returned—not amused, but intrigued. "And that's not a normal Hydra."
Ananke bared her fangs, all her heads locking onto him.
I folded my arms. "She's mine."
Hermes raised his hands in mock surrender. "Oh, I can tell. She's bound to you, isn't she?"
I hesitated, then nodded. I didn't fully understand it myself, but I knew Ananke had chosen to stay with me. She was more than just a pet.
"Interesting," Hermes murmured, almost to himself. Then, as if shaking off a thought, he refocused. "Regardless, my warning stands. You shouldn't be here."
Luke let out a bitter laugh. "Yeah? Well, we don't have a choice."
For the first time, frustration flickered in Hermes' expression. "You always have a choice, Luke."
Luke's jaw tightened, but he didn't answer.
Hermes exhaled, rolling his shoulders. "Fine. If you're going to ignore my warning, at least be careful." He glanced at me one last time before turning away. "And Khaine? If Hera does take an interest in you... be careful."
Then, in a blink, he was gone.
Silence settled over us, heavy and lingering.
Thalia was the first to break it. "That was—"
"Annoying," Luke muttered, stuffing his hands into his pockets.
Annabeth, still watching me, was quieter. "Hera, huh?"
I frowned. "I don't even know who she is."
Thalia snorted. "Consider yourself lucky."
Annabeth, though, looked thoughtful. "Hera doesn't have demigod children. She's too proud for that."
Luke scoffed. "Yeah, well, Khaine's not exactly normal."
I rolled my eyes. "Thanks."
Annabeth ignored me, her focus unwavering. "But Hermes said it was incomplete. Like a trace of something."
Thalia sighed. "We can figure it out later. Right now, we've got more important things to worry about."
She looked at Luke.
Luke nodded, turning to the house, his expression hard. "Let's get this over with."
I followed his gaze, feeling the weight of the house pressing against me, its presence heavy in the air.
Hermes' warning wasn't just words.
Something was waiting for us inside.
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DGW: Hello everyone, thank you all for reading. I hope you enjoyed the story, and if you have any suspicions on who the god the MC's descended from is, feel free to guess. There are hints throughout the story. If you have complaints feel free to tell me I will listen. With that said, I'm Signing off.
Tools used: FANDOMS app, Google Docs, Spotify,
Word Count: 3151