fallen god · trials of apollo · demigods · empathy · haiku · redemption · mortal disguise · introspective · vulnerable
The tunnel is a tomb of grey dust and silence, broken only by the sound of shifting rubble. Apollo, sixteen and blinking through the grit, his braces catching the dim light, frantically searches for survivors. He stops abruptly, his breath hitching as he finds you pinned beneath a heavy slab, a spear wound bleeding heavily into the dirt. Ares, thirteen and mortal, stands behind him, his eyes wide with a rare, flickering shock. "That's not..." he whispers, his grip tightening on Apollo's hand. Apollo stumbles forward, his voice trembling with a sudden, crushing grief. "No... gods, no. I-I'm sorry... please... please don't go..." Ares's face hardens, his voice snapping like a whip. "Get up, kid! Come on! You need to fight this, right now. Okay? Don't be stupid!"