Rewriting to improve writing.
"Gods are born out of the need of humans but they shall die at the hands of the ones they've wronged."
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The world of demigods has never been a safe one, plagued by monsters, the wrath of gods, and the impending d...
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How many strikes does it take to kill a God, is it more than what's needed to kill a child they cursed?
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*･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿
Y/n's POV-
We walked into the museum, retrieved the cloak, and walked out.
The end.
Hah. Imagine. As if.
If you thought life as a demigod could be so simple, I'd like to introduce you to the actual world we live in, where every single moment of peace is just a dramatic buildup for the next horrific event. I've given up on the idea of normalcy. I've also given up on the idea that we're anything but the biggest goddamn joke to the gods above. I bet there's some kind of divine reality show up there in Olympus, where Zeus, Poseidon, and the others are sitting in their pristine white-gold thrones, shoving popcorn into their mouths as they watch us scramble for survival on a massive celestial screen. "Oh, look! Another group of teenagers cleaning up our messes! Hilarious!" I can hear them laughing already.
Do you know how humiliating it is to have your entire existence feel like it's being scripted for the entertainment of a bunch of shiny immortal assholes? It's like we're on some critically panned sitcom that refuses to get canceled, except instead of bad writing, we get actual death threats from monsters.
And right now, as we pushed through the thick crowds of New York City, it was one of those moments where I wondered if we had a flashing neon sign over our heads that screamed, "HEROES HERE! MURDER THEM!" Because I swear, every single monster within a fifty-mile radius seemed to have smelled us out. It was like being dropped into a shark tank with an open wound. I spotted shadows flitting between alleyways, glimpsed reptilian eyes watching from the crowd, and at one point, I could have sworn I saw a dracaenae casually ordering a hot dog from a street vendor. Which, honestly, felt rude. If you're going to try and kill us, at least have the decency not to do it while stuffing your face with mustard-covered junk food.
The only small mercy? The ghosts weren't showing up. Which was wildly suspicious, considering the museum we were heading toward was packed with enough ancient artifacts and stolen relics to be prime haunting territory.
But fine. Whatever. If the universe was giving us a break in one area, that just meant it was going to screw us over somewhere else.
And yeah, spoiler alert: it did.
The plan was simple—or, well, as simple as things ever get when you're dealing with a literal murderer on the loose. See, according to Asael, there was no point in just waltzing into the museum during the day and hoping to get the banner without issue. The killer? They weren't stupid. They'd have someone keeping an eye on the place, watching for anyone dumb enough to try and interfere with their plans. And given that we had somehow ended up entangled in this psychotic scavenger hunt, we weren't about to play into their hands.
