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𝕬𝖙𝖑𝖆𝖘'𝖘 𝕻𝖔𝖎𝖓𝖙 𝖔𝖋 𝖁𝖎𝖊𝖜:

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𝕬𝖙𝖑𝖆𝖘'𝖘 𝕻𝖔𝖎𝖓𝖙 𝖔𝖋 𝖁𝖎𝖊𝖜:

ATLAS FELT HUNGOVER, even though he never got hungover because he never drank alcohol.

"You know if you didn't look like Father, I would say you are adopted." Asael said looking at his brother.

Atlas nodded. "I know my siblings are mostly sots."

His siblings glared at him.

Nevertheless Atlas was currently.... somewhere.... In an unknown island.

He looked up and saw a blue sky, he had never seen such blue sky, free of pollution, the trees were also greener than the ones he saw usually.

Grover sighed pollution was a great problem.

Atlas heard a fountain gurgling, and
smelled juniper and cedar and a bunch of other sweet-scented plants. Atlas also heard waves, gently lapping on a rocky shore. Atlas wondered if he was dead and already in Elysium but he knew better, he knew he could never be that lucky.

"No you aren't. You are on Calypso's island." Zeus guessed.

He tried to sit up. Yet his muscles felt like they were melting.

"They weren't actually melting, right?" Ron asked

"No." Atlas answered. "It was just a feeling."

"Stay still," a girl's voice said. "You're too weak to rise."

She laid a cool cloth across his forehead. A bronze spoon hovered over him and liquid was dribbled into his mouth. The drink soothed his throat and left a warm chocolaty aftertaste. Nectar of the gods. Then the girl's face appeared above him.
She had almond eyes and caramel-color hair braided over one shoulder.

"Calypso." Aurora muttered.

"She's pretty." Isabella said.

"Not as pretty as you." Percy said to her.

She was... fifteen? Sixteen? It was hard to tell. She had one of those faces
that just seemed timeless. She began singing, and Atlas's pain dissolved. She was working magic. He could feel her music sinking into his skin, healing and
repairing his brain.

"Who are you, lady?" Atlas croaked.

"Shhh, brave one," she said. "Rest and heal. No harm will come to you here. I am Calypso."

The next time Atlas awoke he was in a cave, but as far as caves go, he'd been in a
lot worse take Polyphemus's as an example. The ceiling glittered with different coloured crystal formations—
white and purple and green, like he was inside one of those cut geodes you see in souvenir shops. Atlas was lying on a comfortable bed with feather pillows and
cotton sheets. The cave was divided into sections by white silk curtains
Against one wall stood a large loom and a harp. Against the other wall were
shelves neatly stacked with jars of fruit preserves. Dried herbs hung from the ceiling: rosemary, thyme, and a bunch of other stuff. Trivia and Anubis could've named them all.

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