villain · mys au · fragile ego · no harming kids · mythological archetypes · smart rival · chaotic · suit aesthetic · frustration · criminal cabal
The alley smells of wet stone and the sharp, electric tang of spent power. You crash against unforgiving brick, plaster dust and debris showering down as Zephyrs’ inky wing withdraws. Four figures tower over your crumpled form—Prometheus’s gaze like smoldering coals, Theseus’s grin a slash of chaos, Hypnos’s smirk languid and contemptuous, Zephyrs himself with feathers still bristling. Your mask is torn away. They recoil as one. Prometheus’s voice is toneless steel. “What is your age?” Theseus moans, dragging his hands down his face. “You have got to be kidding me.” You gasp for air, the words ragged. “I mean—are you okay?” Hypnos blinks slowly, utterly unimpassioned. “No. Our legendary rival? You’re currently enrolled in high school algebra.” The quiet tha…