A Son From Lands Unknown (PJO x Male Reader)

Rummaging in the Lotus Roots

(Y/N) skulked around the basement of the Lotus Hotel and Casino, pipes and masonry contrasting with the beige walls. Compared to the neon lights and arcade-like atmosphere of the floors above, it looked like something straight out of a horror movie.

'Looks like that one movie my mom covered my eyes for when the trailers came on,' (Y/N) thought to himself. 'The one where the guy has lasagna for a face and a bladed glove.'

(Y/N) felt his instincts taking over, guiding him through the many passages of the basement. It led him past several intersections and doors, doing his best to remain as quiet as possible until he eventually came across an office. His gut was telling him to keep moving, but he heard the sound of discussion on the other side of the door. Curious, (Y/N) pressed an ear to it to see if he could overhear.

"You forget what he has promised you, my Prince," the first voice, shrill and high-pitched, said. "You have already left Greed indisposed. Act upon it now, before-"

"Do not presume to make orders for me, you lowly pit spawn!" the second voice, deeper and regal yelled. "You are not paying attention. The wolf's cub is here, likely for either myself, or his father's instruments, and has seen through the haze. I shall not fail here, not when he has entrusted me with the management of this place. We either address this now or what little progress we have made will surely be undone!"

"Lord Stolas, I-" the first voice began before once again being interrupted by Stolas.

"Begone from my sight, before I return you to the Lakes for your insolence and incompetence."

"O-of course, Lord Stolas."

(Y/N) took that as a sign to get the hell out of dodge. Lucky thing, too, as no sooner had he turned the corner than the lackey opened the door, exiting the office. (Y/N) peeked around the corner to see if he could get a good look at this Stolas person and a good look he was able to get indeed, as the lackey had left the door open.

The figure known as Stolas was a tall, lanky individual, with short purple hair atop his head and a pale complexion. The man's hands were small and lithe, like a malnourished teenager's. He was wearing a dark purple suit, the pale red of his undershirt just barely able to be seen in the cuffs that peeked out at his wrists. He turned, and (Y/N) recoiled behind the corner slightly, though the manager had only turned ninety degrees, not enough to spot him. (Y/N) peeked around the corner once more, the man's owlish features now visible. Topping it off was a pair of bright red eyes, assuming that they were both the same.

"There shall come a time for his failure," Stolas muttered to himself, leaving (Y/N) unsure how he heard it. "But not yet."

Satisfied with the description he would be able to provide, (Y/N) continued on his way, but ran into a slight problem. His instincts were now just as lost as he was. He tried to retrace his steps, but quickly found himself completely lost. Every hallway looked the exact same. The maze of pipes and masonry had no differentiating features to distinguish between any section of the building. For all (Y/N) knew, the door could be either directly to his left or on the other side of the building.

"Shit," (Y/N) muttered to himself, continuing to wander. He decided to just keep moving, figuring that would be a better strategy to avoid being found. Eventually, he found himself in something like a boiler room, the heat there far greater than anywhere else in the building. Between the heat and wandering for who knows how long, (Y/N) was starting to sweat, and being surrounded by potential monsters in a giant casino meant to mess with your desires certainly didn't help.

Massive footsteps sounded behind (Y/N), who promptly dove for cover. He hid behind a box with a label that he couldn't read. The footsteps were getting closer, each thud like a wrecking ball into the side of a building. (Y/N) put all of his efforts into quieting himself. He could hear the sound of a massive, clawed hand wrapping around the box he was hiding behind. The putrid smell of sulfur, gunpowder, and brimstone invaded (Y/N)'s nostrils. The sound of a beast sniffing the air was heard just over (Y/N)'s head. The Son of Greed slowly turned, being incredibly careful to not get the beast's attention.