A Son From Lands Unknown (PJO x Male Reader)

Into the Labyrinth

The group of Greek heroes made it no more than a hundred feet before they became lost. The ever-shifting nature of the Labyrinth made it look nothing like how it did when Annabeth and Percy fell in earlier. Now it resembled a sewer, constructed of red brick with iron-barred port holes every ten feet.

"If we keep one hand on the left wall and follow it," Annabeth suggested, "we should be able to find our way out again by reversing course."

As soon as she said that, the left wall disappeared. They found themselves in the middle of a circular chamber with eight tunnels leading out, and no idea how they'd gotten there.

"Um, which way did we come in?" Grover asked nervously.

"Just turn around," Annabeth suggested.

"Not that simple," Simon stated, making a 180 and coming face-to-face with a wall.

"Left walls are mean," Tyson complained. "Which way now?"

Annabeth swept her flashlight beam over the archways of the eight tunnels.

"This way," she said.

"How do you know?" Percy asked.

"Deductive reasoning."

"She's guessing," Simon said, rolling his eyes.

"Just come on," Annabeth sighed.

The tunnel she'd chosen narrowed quickly. The walls turned to grey cement, and the ceiling got so low that pretty soon everyone was hunching over. Tyson was forced to crawl.

Grover's hyperventilating was the loudest noise in the maze. "I can't stand it anymore!" he whispered. "Are we there yet?"

"We've been down here maybe five minutes," Annabeth told him.

"It's been longer than that," Grover insisted. "And why would Pan be down here? This is the opposite of the wild!"

The group kept shuffling forward. Just as it looked like the tunnel would crush them, it opened into a huge room. Percy shone his light around the walls and let out a breath of amazement.

The whole room was covered in mosaic tiles. The pictures were grimy and faded, but the colors were still discernable- red, blue, green, gold. The frieze showed the Olympians at a feast. There was Poseidon with his trident holding out grapes for Dionysus to turn into wine. Zeus was partying with satyrs, and Hermes was flying through the air in his winged sandals. The pictures were beautiful but inaccurate. Dionysus was not as skinny as the frieze suggested, and Hermes's nose was not that big.

In the middle of the room was a three-tiered fountain. It looked like it hadn't held water in a long time.

"What is this place?" Percy muttered. "It looks-"

"Roman," Annabeth said. "Those mosaics are about two thousand years old."

"But how can they be Roman?" Percy asked.

"The Labyrinth is a patchwork," Annabeth pointed out. "I told you, it's always expanding, adding pieces. It's the only work of architecture that grows by itself."

"You make it sound like it's alive."

A groaning noise echoed from the tunnel in front of them.

"Everyone, shush," Simon demanded. "Stay down and stay quiet."

With that, the group continued down the hall in front of them, mostly in silence. However, it quickly became clear the maze was toying with them. Fifty feet more and the tunnel turned into cement, with brass pipes running down the sides. The walls were spray-painted with graffiti.