The smiles didn't last. The room froze as a boom—deep and heavy, like some godly gong—rippled through the castle walls.
Then it hit: a pillar of golden light, tearing down from the heavens and slamming into the courtyard with enough force to make the ground tremble. The glow poured through the windows like liquid sunlight, turning everything warm and surreal.
For a second, no one spoke, no one breathed. Then Cassandra—of course Cassandra—whispered, "Is that…?"
Atalanta was already on her feet, her white braids whipping as she turned toward the window. Her grin split wide like a kid on Christmas.
"Oh yeah. That's him."
Chione smiled too, the kind of smile that said finally. Perseus, quiet as ever, snapped his device shut, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips.
There was no need to say it out loud. They all knew.
Hermes had arrived.
The door burst open as teenagers poured in, faces bright and buzzing with excitement. The room turned into controlled chaos—shouts of greeting, feet stomping, chatter in every accent and language you could think of. Americans, Greeks, Indians, Egyptians, Asians—kids from everywhere on Earth crammed into one room, all smiles like they were ready to dropkick destiny.
And there he stood, in the center of it all—Hermes.
The god wasn't towering or intimidating like you might expect. He was sleek, sharp, and fast. A perfect mix of old-world energy and modern swagger. He looked like he belonged in a boardroom and on a skateboard at the same time—wavy golden hair, a smirk that could get you into trouble, and those bright, clever eyes that saw everything.
His sandals? Nah! Nike high-tops that glowed faintly like they were made of sunlight.
Hermes smiled, broad and mischievous, as his voice—powerful and warm—boomed through the room. "Alright, alright, settle down, you bunch of delinquents."
Laughter erupted, and he grinned like he'd expected it.
"Listen up! I hope you've all had a good nap, because the real fun starts now."
Everyone quieted, but you could still feel the buzz in the air, like sparks waiting to ignite.
"Here's the deal," Hermes continued, pacing across the room like a motivational speaker with divine authority. "You're all headed out—different cities, different countries. Earth, modern-day, no funny business."
A ripple of excitement and murmured "Oh, sht"*s ran through the group.
"You've got one rule, like we had agreed," Hermes said, holding up a finger for emphasis. "Don't territorize the place. I mean it. No major magic. No changing terrains, cities, or anything big. And for Hades' sake, don't go around killing humans unless you're attacked or actually about to die. Clear?"
Nods all around. They knew this already, but hearing it from Hermes himself made it real.
The god's eyes skimmed the crowd, zeroing in on a girl leaning casually against the far wall. Cleopatra. "And you," Hermes said, pointing at her. "Stay put."
Cleopatra raised her hands in mock surrender, a wicked grin plastered across her face. "No promises, Hermes."
He sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose like he had a godly headache. "Troublemaker."
More snickers, but Hermes pushed on. "One more thing—when you get there, you're starting at nothing. No cash, no handouts, no magic safety nets. You want something? Work for it. Survive. Hustle. The cunning ones are gonna thrive—just sayin'."
A murmur rolled through the crowd—some worried, others fired up.
"And yeah," Hermes added with a shrug, "you'll get free education wherever you want. That's non-negotiable. And your divinity won't save you from human cravings, like normal humans!"
Atalanta muttered, "Oh great. So we're broke, humans and in school?"
Cassandra smirked. "At least we won't fail out. And having to live like human, isn't that bad. Right, Perseus?"
Perseus didn't answer—he was too busy staring at the golden gate that had just formed out of thin air. It shimmered like a doorway to somewhere unreal, swirling with light.
Cassandra pouted.
Hermes turned back to the crowd, his face serious now. "This is it, kids. Step through, and you'll be in your city—thy journey starts there."
The room grew quiet. A hum of nervous energy hung thick in the air.
"Now go," Hermes commanded, his voice softer but firm. "Don't make me say it twice."
The teenagers moved, filing toward the gate in groups. One by one, they disappeared into the golden swirl—vanishing like shadows into light. Cassandra and Atalanta exchanged a glance, their smiles fierce as they stepped forward together.
Chione hung back just long enough to hear Hermes call out, "Isis!"
A girl with dark braids turned around, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah?"
"Follow Chione's lead," Hermes said, jerking a thumb toward her.
Isis shrugged with zero argument. Chione, however, sighed like someone had just dropped another ten pounds of responsibility on her shoulders.
"Don't look so thrilled," Atalanta teased as she vanished into the gate.
"Shut up," Chione muttered, rolling her eyes before leading Isis through.
The last of the teenagers stepped through. The room went still.
Hermes sighed, running a hand through his hair as the golden gate flickered and disappeared. "Time to go back and watch it unfold," he muttered to himself.
Then, as quick as he came, he was gone—a flash of golden divinity vanishing into thin air.
And somewhere on Earth, the world was about to get very, very interesting.
****
The gods watched as the golden gate shimmered, depositing groups of teenagers into their assigned cities. Massive divine streams flickered before them like giant TVs, the images crystal clear yet ethereal—each god's handiwork on full display.
Ares leaned back, a wicked grin plastered across his face as the first group landed in the heart of modern-day New York.
The screen showed kids blinking against the bright lights and chaos of the city that never slept.
"Ah, look at 'em," Ares barked with a loud laugh, slapping his thigh. "Tossed straight into the madness! Let's see if they're soft or steel."
Jupiter, standing nearby with arms crossed, pinched the bridge of his nose like he was already tired of everything. "Of course you'd find this hilarious," he muttered, watching a second stream flicker to life. This time, the most troublesome group—Cleopatra's included—popped into his Domains, smack-dab in the middle of one of his domains, LA.
In his other Domain, the teens gawked at the mix of old ruins and modern life colliding, the eternal city alive with cars, scooters, and street vendors shouting in rapid Italian.
Jupiter groaned. "Great. Just what I needed—Cleopatra in my backyard."
"Hey, you chose that yourself, big guy, be glad she's there instead of Italy." Hermes quipped from his perch. He stretched lazily, his golden staff resting against his shoulder. "You knew the chaos she'd bring. Call it character-building."
"Oh, I'll call it something, Chione too and that demigod Perseus are in my city too. You chose this one, didn't you Zues" Jupiter shot back under his breath.
Zeus didn't reply but his chuckle said it all.
Meanwhile, Aphrodite leaned forward, eyes sparkling as another group appeared in Paris. "Look at them—dropped right into Montmartre! Très chic," she purred. "Oh, they'll have stories to tell soon enough."
"Until they realize not all French people are in love with tourists," Hades deadpanned, his dark humor never failing.
Athena, seated calmly with a tablet in hand—because of course she had a tablet—arched an eyebrow as she reviewed the placements. "Every group was assigned carefully," she reminded everyone, her voice calm but firm. "We needed to test all of them. To see who adapts, who learns, who thrives."
"Yeah, yeah," Ares waved her off, still smirking at the screen showing a group dropped into Cairo's heat. "But admit it—it's fun watching them squirm. Betcha ten drachmas the ones in Egypt fight a camel before sundown."
Hera rolled her eyes. "Must everything be a bet with you?"
"Yup." Ares flashed her a toothy grin.
****
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