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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It's just that I belong in the quietest quiet, that's what's right for me.
༺♥༻ Tw- HORRIBLE mentions of maiming, wounding. Also Luke being self aware.
✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･*
The heroes had expected a large animal due to the flurry of sounds.
They had braced themselves for something massive—maybe a minotaur (classic), a chimera (annoying), or one of those oversized, genetic experiment nightmares the gods liked to throw at them when they were feeling extra spicey. But what they hadn't anticipated was a goddamn herd.
The moment the doors burst open, it was like Noah's Ark had flipped itself inside out. A flood of animals—two by two, just like the story—stampeded into the room with clumsy, uncoordinated movements, golden eyes gleaming in the dim museum lighting. Lambs, cows, zebras, even a pair of elephants, their trunks swinging wildly as if they weren't quite sure what to do with themselves. It was all so random that for a second, everyone just stood there, half-lowered weapons in hand, processing the sheer absurdity of it.
"This is a joke, right?" Percy finally muttered, lifting Riptide slightly. "Like, this is some elaborate, really stupid prank?"
Then the Bengal tiger let out a sound. A sound that was wrong. It wasn't a growl, not really—it was like something pretending to know what a tiger was supposed to sound like. A scratchy, warped, static-like imitation of a majestic roar, but twisted, distorted, like a corrupted audio file playing through busted speakers. It crawled into their ears and sent a cold, instinctual wrongness down their spines.
Grover took a slow step back, his knuckles white as he gripped his reed pipes like they were his only lifeline. "Guys..." His voice was trembling, but not in fear of the animals themselves. "They're not real."
Annabeth frowned, already scanning them, her storm-grey eyes narrowed with calculation. "What do you mean, 'not real'? They look real."
"No. No, they don't." Grover swallowed hard, his eyes locking onto one of the cows. Its gaze followed his in a way animals never did—too aware, too intelligent. "I know animals. I can feel them, their emotions, their fear, their instincts. But these? There's nothing. No soul. No life."
Y/N was already sprinting sideways before Grover even finished his sentence, taking advantage of their momentary stalemate to think. Her mind spun in rapid-fire calculations, eyes darting to every shadow, every surface, every detail they'd overlooked. Something about this whole thing had felt off the second they'd stepped in.
It was too perfect. The setup, the tension, the presentation.
A museum as grand as the MET should have had security swarming by now, even with a godly influence suppressing mortal interference. But there were no alarms. No panicked tourists. No sign of even a single guard.
