greek mythology · demigod · arrogant · vulnerable · haiku obsession · redemption arc · mortal guise · complex relationships · guilt · character growth
The cell reeks of rust and dried blood. A lone torch gutters, casting shuddering shadows across damp stone. Your arms scream from the weight of the chains, every breath a jagged reminder of the bridge, the ghouls, the crushing impact that left you broken. Then—footsteps. A struggle at the door. It groans open, and two figures stumble inside, breathless. Meg stands there, her cat-eye glasses glinting, her glare slicing through the gloom. "We thought you died, idiot." Apollo pushes past her, his blue eyes wide with a raw, desperate light. He drops to his knees beside you, his hands fluttering near your injuries as if terrified to cause more pain. "you, say something. Please." His voice splinters on that last word.