Chapter Text
Gods, I don’t know how the other campers back home did this. I mean, Camp Halfblood did give us year-round campers education throughout the year, the point was for us to be able to survive out in the real world once we were older, and basic education was a necessary part of that, but the ‘survive’ part of that was a lot more literal than most people would intend when using that phrase. Sure, a job is good and all, but there’s no point in academic excellence if you’re caught off guard when the monsters inevitably come sniffing for you.
Unfortunately, “My brain is wired for battles against the monsters of myth and legend, so I need a uniquely tailored education” isn’t something you can really say in a world where said monsters really are just myths. Believe me, I tried. The adults just cooed over my incredible imagination and laughed about how into those cape cartoons I was when they thought I couldn’t overhear. And that’s quite the thing, isn’t it? In this new world I’m in (16 years isn’t exactly new, but I still think of Camp Half-Blood as home), the monsters aren’t, well, monsters, they’re people who can fly, or shoot lasers, or build all sorts of crazy devices.
Though they do have their own monsters, I suppose, their Endbringers. Wildly powerful beings that attack every few months leaving devastation in their wake. In some ways it’s a little comforting. Reminds me of home. A group of plucky heroes fighting for their lives against impossible odds in the hopes of defying the fates and winning the day. But, of course, I’m nowhere near that. No, I’m stuck in school getting an education so I can go on to be a productive member of society. At least the first time I died was in battle against Chronos’ army, rather than from sheer boredom.
The staff tried, offering counseling and the like to try and help me manage things, or talking to doctors even, but no matter how similar the symptoms of demigodhood and ADHD are, the underlying cause is fundamentally different. Not to mention how fragile everyone here is. Being a year-round camper, I never really interacted with the mortal world too much in my past life, so I never really noticed it back then, but after a few physical education classes here I realised I’d have to start holding myself back or they’d start to think I’m one of their brute capes. Not that they’d be entirely wrong, but come on, their climbing frames are just static! How they think it’s a challenge without any moving parts or traps is beyond me.
Thank the gods for my work with the mechanics. It started when Mark, a friend of the orphanage matron, came around to have a look at the people carrier. He must have gotten worn down with how many questions I was asking while he worked, so let me help out. Initially I think he was just trying to humour me but after a short while he realised I was picking things up quickly. A few weeks later when he came around to check in he also suggested I could help him out at his workshop after school for some pocket money, and possibly a route into an apprenticeship or job in a few years. When he expressed his surprise at how quickly I gained competence I just went quiet and mumbled something about my dad. There was an awkward pause, but we were back to work soon enough. It’s even true, in a way. I can’t imagine anyone questioning whether Hephaestus could fix up a car or bike.
Even beyond its use to keep the matron from grilling me about grades, after enough time had passed that Mark wasn’t worried about me breaking things, he was willing to let me work on my own projects here so long as I didn’t stay too late. I’d even bought a few tools of my own with the money he paid me and had a small bench in the corner. Currently I was just using a cleaning kit, working on a flute. I saw one of the girls, Sophie I think her name is, from what’s shaping up to be the ‘queen bee’ clique in our year busting it up and dumping it. Surviving the monsters before I made it to camp taught me to be light on my feet, so I don’t think she realised I was there, though I wasn’t too worried if she did. Technical war veteran vs. a highschooler, it’s easy to see who would come out on top if things came to a head.
I figured it would be something I could keep myself occupied with while trying to find a workaround to lacking celestial bronze. Even when I was at camp it wasn’t the most abundant of materials, oftentimes we’d recycle old and broken projects and weapons to keep our forges going, but here it was unheard of, this world lacking a divinely invested Mount Olympus and corresponding pantheon. It had been frustrating me to no end recently, having to scrap so many ideas because the materials that let Cabin 9 fudge the laws of physics just didn’t exist. Just how expensive materials can be is something I never quite appreciated until I didn’t have the access to them that I did at camp. Even for rarer materials, direct funds were a non-issue, we just traded chores, favours, or a few gizmos with the Hermes kids. Both sides left happy, and no questions were asked about where the materials came from, or why we might need them.
I packed it in once I’d finished with cleaning and straightening the flute. While I’d rather have it done sooner rather than later, I’m not exactly in a rush either. It’s mostly just a project to pass the time until I have a good way to get better materials. I clean up and let Mark know I’m heading out, then start making my way back to the orphanage. It’s a few miles between there and the shop, so it takes a bit of time to walk it, but I’ve kept myself fit enough and am confident that if any thug try to harass me I can at the very least get away, if not scare them off myself. I’ve put part of the money Mark pays me toward membership at a local boxing gym, nominally to keep fit and burn some excess energy, but really to keep my skills up, and have an excuse as to why I’m good in a scrap if the question ever comes up.
“Lucas, good to see you back.” The matron, Rose, greets me as I walk in the door. “How was the time with Mark?”
“Pretty good, Rose, I stayed a little later today, working on fixing up a flute for one of the girls at school. It’s a bit more delicate work than I’m used to with the cars, but it’s a nice change of pace.”
She eyes me after I finish, causing me to hurriedly think back through what I said trying to work out why. I go red as it dawns on me. We both start speaking at the same time.
“No, not that, it’s not what you think!”
“A girl, hmm? I suppose you are getting to the age where I should be giving you the talk.”
If possible, that makes my cheeks burn even more. I sigh, knowing that no matter what I say now I won’t be able to escape my fate. Rose fills the silence.
“Now now, there’s a few of you around the same age. It has to happen sooner or later so we might as well get it over with. Mary, Julia and Daniel can join you for it tomorrow after all the younger kids are tuckered out from the celebration.”
It takes me a moment to realise what celebration she’s talking about. My 16th birthday. It wasn’t something I tended to keep too close a track of, that and the current date. At camp it was more of a quiet affair, most often meaning I had an easier day in the forges as people gave me priority with tools and work stations, a Cabin 9 tradition. Chiron remembered, not just mine, but for everyone. He made a small announcement at dinner, but mostly left it to us to organise anything if we wanted a bigger celebration. I was never much for purely social occasions, so tended to just leave it. It’s similar enough here. After a few years Rose realised I wasn’t keen on making a big deal of it, so for me it just means a cake with dinner and all of us kids spending a bit of time as a group. No colourful banners or excessive party games for me thank you very much.
I get my chores for the evening done quickly before turning in earlier than my usual. I was careful not to show it, but now that I remember it’s coming, I’m actually more excited than I usually would be for this birthday. I don’t quite know what it is, but I know I’m getting something from my dad tomorrow. A part of whatever dad did to give me this second life. The part that caused The Fates to kick up a fuss and send me here, rather than letting me have another life back home like most would.
I wake up at midnight. I can’t quite place it, but something feels different. I’d almost say I feel more complete than before. In the moment it takes me to get used to the feeling, it changes. It feels almost as if my soul is trying to reach out and connect to something. Whatever it’s trying, it manages it, and I feel a small nugget of understanding enter my consciousness, as well as a small ‘thud’ as something small lands on my bedside table. Thanking the gods I had the lucky draw of a room to myself in the orphanage, I look over to the table to see a small key. Excitement overtakes me, I grab the key and hurry over to my door. It fits perfectly. Turning it grand me access to a small entry hall to an extradimensional personal reality. It’s pretty bare. The entrance hall is a 5 meter cube (we used metric in Cabin 9, it made it easier when borrowing schematics from the mortal world), with two doors, one leading into a large, empty space, my warehouse, the second also leading into a warehouse, though this one currently just large enough for a single row of shelves. At the moment they’re all empty. This room is what I felt the connection to earlier. A resource generator. Any materials I place on the shelves will get replenished after a day has passed so long as I use it for a crafting project. I couldn’t just put a gold bar in, and have seven to sell after a week has passed, but if I made jewelry out of them then I could sell that and have the gold replenish. It also has to be new material I put in, so I couldn’t take the previously mentioned jewelry, melt it back into a bar and get another bar, but any new material I put in there, say bought with the proceeds of selling the jewelry, would count.
It bodes experimentation. While I have a fairly clear idea of what it does, I’m not entirely sure what the limit of “materials or resources” is. Would a PCB count as a material or resource, considering it’s a part used for crafting a wide variety of other things? Definitely some experimentation when I have better access to things to test with.
As my excitement winds down, tiredness kicks back in, reminding me that it’s still the middle of the night. Heeding Hypnos’ call I, only somewhat reluctantly, head back to bed. Waking up comes with another connection. This time, rather than any significant additions, I got a cache of materials. I didn’t have time to go through them and test their properties fully, but the understanding of them the connection gave me told me that they were mostly very durable materials, a lot of them being excellent at dispersing energy too. Alongside the metals, there were smaller supplies of some crystals, as well as organic materials. One that seemed particular interest seemed to have similar properties to the metals granted to me, both very durable and good at dispersing energy. What really caught my eye though, was an addition to the workshop itself. The sense I got from it was that it was a lounge for a benefactor, but when I went in to check, I understood. A forge, tools included. On one wall was a large screen running Hephaestus TV. As much as the sight of it made me tear up, the note left on the anvil really broke the dam.
“I won’t be able to stay here and use it for its intended purpose, but given what a relaxing day to me is, I imagine you’ll find a good use for it. I’ll look forward to seeing what you make with the Forge’s gifts.”
I really couldn’t help it. Everything I’d been holding back, my siblings, friends, all the memories of home, all came crashing down. The tears poured.
“Thanks, Dad.”