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font-size: 12px;">It figures, doesn’t it? That not long after they’d finally been released from the clutches of the Underworld, for their few fleeting months on the surface, Olympus would be attacked. That’s just their luck.<br/>
<br/>
The first thing that comes to their mind is to protect Hades. Of course it is. It’s an ancient reflex of theirs, practically ingrained into their DNA, as the humans would say. It’s not often that the god travels all the way to Olympus, so Persephone had known automatically that something was wrong. And so they’d followed him, their curiosity always having gotten the better of them, and their continued love for the man acting as a close companion to the instinct.<br/>
<br/>
They hadn’t expected <i>this</i>, though. The walls and thrones of Olympus broke through and crumbling, ichor seeping into the newly formed cracks. A gigantic chimera, larger and more brutal than they have ever seen even depicted in the imagining of humans, ripping through the strong foundations like they’re paper. How could anyone have expected this?<br/>
<br/>
Persephone had had an inkling, of course, that gods could die. That they aren’t completely impervious to the creatures that lie out there in wait. They could read it in their husband — <i>ex-</i>husband’s — face whenever they would get too close to danger, whenever they were just a little <i>too</i> trusting. Hades obviously has far more knowledge on the workings of the dead than they do, even if the two do reside in the same realm together, so they have always trusted his guidance without fail.<br/>
<br/>
But knowing and witnessing the evidence are two completely different things. They watch Athena — <i>Athena</i>, of all gods! — get torn apart, her golden ichor spreading out on the marble floor, a mockery of luxury and merriment. The spilled ink of wisdom from the goddess who could not foresee her own death here among these cold white pillars. Zeus’s golden child is now just paint for another tragic portrait. A chilling sight, indeed. For if Athena cannot stop this terrifying beast, who can?<br/>
<br/>
Gods scurry like ants and clutch each other, sudden shells in comparison to their long-sung glory, and Persephone reaches toward their ex-husband in the distance, but for naught. They can hear Zeus's booming voice somewhere off to the side, commanding, <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#defadb">“Take human form!”</span><br/>
<br/>
They have little time to find the source before there is a sudden flash of blinding light, and Persephone floats away like a dream, only to awaken anew.<br/>
<br/>
<div style="text-align: center"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#7b9b41"><i class="fa fa-flower-daffodil"></i> <i class="fa fa-flower-daffodil"></i> <i class="fa fa-flower-daffodil"></i> <i class="fa fa-flower-daffodil"></i></span>​</div><br/>
When the light clears, everything is different. Well, not <i>everything</i>. There’s still an awful lot of crumbling infrastructure, but now it’s skyscrapers instead of pillars and castle walls. Concrete has replaced marble, and the golden glow that Olympus tends to possess has been replaced with the buzzing of streetlights blinking against the approaching night. The human world. And Persephone themself is also different.<br/>
<br/>
The transition is not as startling for him as one might expect. Milan Jaromir Grabowski — Polish, he thinks, but it feels right. He’s never really cared for names, or bodies, or labels in general. Maybe it came from the world his mother had tried to build for him — a safe shelter that allowed him to do or be whoever he wanted as long as he remained safe. So much for that, of course. Sorry Mother, he hadn’t had much say in the matter.<br/>
<br/>
So his body is new but just as right as any other one on him. But now isn’t the time or place to contemplate the change. He doesn’t venture outside of Greece very often in the six months he’s allowed on the surface, but he’s fairly sure this is Spain. Regardless, this is definitely the human world, and he feels entirely out of his depth. The others are talking, some of them arguing more than talking, seemingly about Hecate removing their powers. He remains silent, caught between loyalty to Hecate and what he knows.<br/>
<br/>
How is he supposed to tell everyone the truth? That they should be suspicious of this eerie stillness amongst the streets of what might be Valencia — a place once so densely compacted that avoiding other people would have been a fruitless endeavor. How can he tell them that the human world has recently become infected with a horrible virus that has been steadily eating through humanity? It’s not his place. He might have lived in the Underworld, but beyond the occasional convincing of Hades to save the odd soul here and there, Milan had never been arrogant enough to assume any dominion over what is rightfully his domain. So when it became apparent that the human world was facing tragedy, Milan knew his place, and didn’t tell the others. He’d wanted to, though. <i>Obviously</i> he’d wanted to, but it just. wasn’t. his. place. He’d tried to convince Hades to tell the others, but the man had refused, and that was that.<br/>
<br/>
Still, he feels guilty. He spots Melinoë — Bexley, now — in the crowd, and instinctively takes his child’s hand, pulling her protectively to his side. There’s no sight of Hades, and that fact leaves him almost paralyzed in the middle of the street they’ve all wound up in. Is he still back there? Has he also been torn apart by claws and fangs? Milan fights the tears that come to his eyes from the image, tightening his grip on Bexley’s hand as a reminder of what he must remain strong for. He must be here <i>somewhere</i>. There are many people here, and finding one person in the chaos is… difficult, given how his head is still reeling with fear and the dizziness of his powers being stripped. Perhaps, <i>hopefully</i>, Hades is somewhere in the crowd. And what of his mother? And his other children? The town is suspiciously silent as they all begin to advance, and Milan allows himself a bit of hope in thinking that maybe it’s all over. Maybe the humans have died out, and they will at least have a safe haven here while they figure out the mess upstairs.<br/>
<br/>
But of course it can’t be that easy. Milan spots the forms shambling toward them around the same time that the others do, but he has no time to warn them before the once-human creatures run at them with foaming mouths and bloody shirts. Then everyone is running, shame and guilt clawing at Milan’s new insides in such a distinctly human way. He wishes he could savor this change. Explore it and all its curiosities that it has to offer him. He wishes that Hades had said something. He wishes that there had never been a pandemic in the first place. Milan wishes for a lot of things, but so few of them come true nowadays.<br/>
<br/>
Former gods scurry once more as more and more creatures give chase, some splitting from the group to go their own ways, while the majority follow the rest of the group away from the animals nipping at their heels. Milan just follows the group, hoping for safety in numbers, continuing to hold his child close, away from the dangers closing in on them all. He can feel tears like heated oil slipping down his cheeks, but he has no time for thought or sorrow. Right now, all there is is survival. Running, hiding, shivering in the dark corners of a ruined world with disgraced family and friends, waiting. But waiting for what? For the end of everything? Can that even happen?<br/>
<br/>
The group finds shelter in a long-abandoned hotel, having managed to shed their pursuers sometime back, and take refuge in one of the lobby-like spaces a few floors above the main one. Milan finally releases Melinoë’s hand as he slumps to the floor, back pressed to a whitewashed wall with his head resting on his knees as the adrenaline finally pumps out of him and drips through the floorboards to the floors below. They’ve been running for some time, and the night is so dark, and he can feel himself drifting the moment he allows himself to close his eyes. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:#7b9b41">”Try to get some sleep. We won’t be able to figure things out tonight,”</span> he suggests right before falling unconscious there on the floor.<br/>
<br/>
<div style="text-align: center"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#7b9b41"><i class="fa fa-flower-daffodil"></i> <i class="fa fa-flower-daffodil"></i> <i class="fa fa-flower-daffodil"></i> <i class="fa fa-flower-daffodil"></i></span>​</div><br/>
When he’s awake once more, the light of dawn is spilling in through the curtains, and in the quiet, he can almost convince himself that everything from the previous day had been a dream. But the conscious and unconscious forms of those around him make the reality all too apparent. The gods that are awake mirror the despondency he feels, but they’re all handling it differently. Some are completely silent and paralyzed as if dead after all, others are weeping into their palms, and some are just as exuberant as usual to hide their fear.<br/>
<br/>
He rubs the sleep from his eyes with the sleeve of his cream-colored sweater, getting to his feet hesitantly and wincing at the cracking of his bones. That’s right, he’s human now. Or at least as human as he can get.<br/>
<br/>
<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#7b9b41">”Mother? Hecate? Kids? … Hades?”</span> he calls these new names out weakly, not wanting to disturb his neighbors’ thoughts but still needing the assurance that his family is alive and well.</div><div style="
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font-size: 10px;"><abbr class="bbc-abbr" data-trigger="hover focus touchclick" data-xf-init="tooltip" role="button" tabindex="0" title="OLYMPUS → VALENCIA, SPAIN • STREETS → HOTEL">LOCATION</abbr> | <abbr class="bbc-abbr" data-trigger="hover focus touchclick" data-xf-init="tooltip" role="button" tabindex="0" title="ZEUS | MELINOË | HECATE | DEMETER | HADES | ALL HIS CHILDREN">INTERACTIONS</abbr> | <abbr class="bbc-abbr" data-trigger="hover focus touchclick" data-xf-init="tooltip" role="button" tabindex="0" title="EVERYONE">MENTIONS</abbr></div></div><div style=" margin: auto; margin-top: 5px; height: 10px; max-width: 100%; text-align: center; font-size: 8px;">Code by Jenamos</div>