ᴛᴡᴇɴᴛʏ-ᴛᴡᴏ

                                    

                                          
The Gods' Pawns.
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    THE FOUR OF THEM WERE FORCEFULLY USHERED INTO THE DIMLY LIT ROOM, their eyes darting around as they absorbed their surroundings with a mixture of trepidation and curiosity. The oppressive silence was punctuated only by their own hesitant footsteps echoing off the walls. As they ventured further inside, each gaze lingered on the imposing sarcophagus that stood prominently in the center of the room, casting long, eerie shadows that danced in the flickering torchlight.
    This casket had its surface adorned with intricate engravings that depicted harrowing scenes from Ancient Greek mythology, mirroring the thematic decor found throughout the Princess Andromeda. Cities engulfed in flames, their inhabitants fleeing in terror, and heroic figures meeting grisly fates at the hands of vengeful gods and monstrous creatures were all captured in painstaking detail. The artistry was both breathtaking and unsettling, drawing the onlookers into a visual narrative of chaos and despair.
    The sarcophagus's golden exterior, though resplendent, exuded an unnatural coldness. This chill seemed to penetrate the very air around it, creating a palpable sense of dread. Its lustrous surface, though alluring, had a magnetic pull that demanded attention, compelling each of them to step closer despite their better judgment.
    "Well," Luke said, spreading his arms proudly as he took a step forward, his smile wide and confident. "A little nicer than Cabin Eleven, huh?"
    The kids, although they had been eavesdropping at the door, seemed stunned to actually see them in the flesh. Percy appeared unusually pale, his gaze darting nervously between Luke, Rory, and the sarcophagus. His fingers twitched slightly, as though itching to reach a weapon. It was evident that the sight of them had rattled him deeply, shaking the fragile composure he tried to maintain.
    Annabeth, usually the epitome of calm and collected, couldn't tear her eyes away from Luke. Her disbelief was palpable, her brows furrowed as she struggled to reconcile the person standing before her with the boy she had known. She hadn’t seen him since last summer, and a part of her had maybe clung to the hope that it wasn't true, that Luke hadn’t truly betrayed them. But now, faced with the stark reality, her hope was fading fast.
    In the corner, the cyclops – who looked no older than a child – was cowering pathetically. His large, single eye was filled with tears, and he trembled as he cast fearful glances towards the twins. It seemed he was more concerned by their presence than the immediate danger posed by Luke and Rory. His sobs were soft, almost muffled, as if he feared drawing attention to himself.
    And then there was Maddie. Maddie, who never cowered. Maddie, who never backed down. She stood defiantly, her glare fixed on Rory with a fierceness that could melt steel. Maddie’s small frame radiated pure, unadulterated rage, and her fists were clenched tightly at her sides. Rory found herself unable to meet her eyes. The intensity of Maddie’s fury seemed to weigh her down, making her shrink back, her confidence faltering under her unyielding stare.
    "I've seen better," Maddie spat at Luke, her gaze never wavering from Rory. Her voice dripped with contempt and challenge. "Is this really the best you can do?"
    Luke's smile faltered for a fraction of a second, but he quickly regained his composure. "Always a delight," Rory muttered, not at all shocked that Maddie had kept her attitude.
    Attempting to regain control of the situation, Luke gestured toward some ornate dining chairs that were placed against the far wall. "Please, have a seat," he insisted, his voice attempting to convey authority. However, defiance filled the air, and none of them complied. They remained standing, their postures rigid with distrust and defiance.