Pantheon Academy, School of The Demigods.
Had Apollo been too serious with his part-time job, or was a stirring really worth worrying over for days? The god's eyes— pearled golden— studied keenly over the topo map, looking for anything at least. A method, a precaution.
A solution.
His fingers pinched the skin on his forehead as he thought. A whole oracle like him could predict the future, but he definitely hadn't seen this coming. The monsters had suddenly propped into the picture, monsters he thought were asleep and forgotten.
And they weren't just any monsters. These ones were rather the first masterpieces of Typhon, their father. These monsters had a reputation for destruction, peril and disaster. Alongside Typhon, they had fought against the gods during a Titanomachy, and the gods had conquered, putting them to eternal sleep.
Only that, something had recently awakened them.
Something Apollo didn't know. The sun god stared blankly still at the map on his desk, but the only smooth thought in his mind was the constant recap of his misery. If only he'd listened to pure wisdom from Hera and had desisted from mortals' business— maybe he would be enjoying the sun's warmth rather than sitting here, doing principal's work.
But this was Zeus's judgement— a hundred years of service in this shitty academy— that, or he could simply forfeit his godliness.
"The oracle hasn't been down here for days." Another manly voice interrupted his thoughts. "What do we do?"
Apollo stared at Rhoecus, his right-hand man. The centaur was famously the head teacher of the academy. With a muscled upper body and a lower horse back, pitch black— it was quite obvious how skilled he would be at combat.
"I don't blame her." Apollo replied, referring to the oracle of Delphi. "I too was caught off guard when all these happened. It seems like there is a force that's going against the will of fate."
The oracle of Delphi was a divine oracle of the gods. Long story briefed, Apollo stole it from it's original owners and hid it on a mountain in the academy. Mount Delphi, he called it— renamed after the oracle itself.
"The best thing we can do for now is send our best students to Corinth. We can only contain those beasts before they are exposed to humanity." Apollo said. "Seven demigods and a fortune should do."
The god combed his golden hair backwards in utter frustration. If he would check, he didn't remember actively participating in matters of war back in Olympus. And yet, he was here planning battle strategies. Not fair, this was supposed to be Athena's duty.
Rhoecus nodded at his words. "Alright then, but who would lead this quest?"
Apollo had opened his mouth to speak when his door suddenly flung open. Victor walked in, staggering like a person with two different leg lengths. But he had this confident look in his face.
"I would." The boy said, clutching his fists. "I would lead the quest."
"Victor Dreadmoore. . . You're alive." Rhoecus had an astonished look on his face.
"I am—"
"I never said you could come in." Apollo butt in. His eyes closed and he drooped his head tiredly on his desk.
"But this is very important." Victor pointed out.
"Yes, that's why we don't need you here. Get out." Apollo commanded.
Victor didn't comply. Instead, he reached into his pants' pockets and brought out an artifact. It was a small silver necklace with a shiny emerald pendant. It had been misplaced by the goddess Aphrodite.
Apollo peeked at it as Victor dropped it on his table, then he scoffed and looked away.
"What are the chances you didn't have this all these time?" He said.
At his words, Victor gritted. "This was your assignment to me. You knew exactly where this thing was but still decided to risk my life to get it. And after all that, you call me a thief?"
"Victor, that's enough." Rhoecus warned.
Apollo sighed, he had enough problems to deal with already, why a kid now? He should have been expecting this too, especially from someone they called the child of the prophecy. He raised his head and stared blankly into the boy's angered expression.
"So? What if you found it?" He asked. "Shall I ask Dionysus to throw a party for your achievement?"
"I think I proved my worth already, I made sure not to die, against what you willed. I think I should lead this quest." Victor boasted.
"Alright, let's get you to your cabin." Rhoecus was starting to forcefully walk him out when Apollo laughed.
"It's already pathetic that you're the weakest student in this academy. Now, you believe you can lead a quest because you simply retrieved a jewel?" The god said, still laughing.
"You think I can't?" Victor struggled towards Apollo, but Rhoecus pulled him back by his shirt collar. "Then I invoke the power chamber."
A pause. At Victor's words, Rhoecus gasped a bit. Apollo's flawless face hardened, and he clasped his hands beneath his chin, staring darkly into the demigod's eyes.
The power chamber was an altar inspired by Hestia, the goddess of the hearth. The chamber was usually used to confirm the power level of gods and demigods. However, only gods could use it without a condition.
When demigods made use of the chamber, it would usually result to a curse encrypted to their destinies. These curses sometimes could be as simple as defeating bad luck or a bunch of monsters unplanned for.
And other times, they were way worse.
"Do you know what you're getting yourself into, child?" Apollo asked. "If you aren't awakened yet, your curse might be difficult to handle. Remember what happened last time?"
Last time was when Victor had first checked his power level, it read zero, which meant he hadn't awakened his god bloodline yet. As a result, he'd had to fight a talking sword.
That was one of those days where he was a wee bit close to death.
"I don't care what happened last time." Victor replied. "I'm gonna use the power chamber, and if my power level is higher than the person you vote for to lead this quest, then I'd have to lead."
Apollo arched an eyebrow. "And who the hell decides that?"
"It's not a decision, it's an offer."
Rhoecus reaffirmed his grip on Victor's collar. "Alright Dreadmoore, that's enough talk for one night."
"Alright then, I accept." The god's voice suddenly echoed through the room.
Apollo wasn't sure why this boy was quite certain that he'd awakened his bloodline, but if it was true, then it probably wasn't good. He needed to check, he wouldn't ignore this little sensory detail and risk putting the world in danger.
Victor Dreadmoore couldn't awaken. He shouldn't. It was forbidden.