My story | PJO x male reader

Chapter 3: The Hunter and The Invisible Man

It had only been ten minutes before I heard the voices

When I got away from the river, the valley of obsidian was dead silence. My shoes crunched against the spiked ground, following the compass and keeping the lantern held high. I entertained myself by watching the green flame inside the glass container dance—taking bets on whether it would go right or left.

The flame took a sharp left, as of someone tried to blow it out, and then I heard them—sharp voices. Immediately, I ducked down and whispered, "Shooting Star." The lantern and compass lifted from my hands, they shook in the air, then the lantern transformed into my bow and the compass turned to my quiver.

By the time I looked up, the voices were just about a hundred feet away. Two figures were walking casually, conversing just out of earshot. Even from this distance I could tell that they were both tall, freakishly tall.

I slowly tiptoed over to one of the several boulders, just to my left. I sat there for a moment, hearing their footsteps getting louder. Eventually, I gained the courage to peek around the edge.

The longer I looked at them the more they looked like pickup trucks with ancient weapons. The one on the left had a bow laced over his shoulder. He wore only cloth and leather, as if he was trying to be the biker gang version of Robin Hood.

The one on the right seemed more like a warrior. He was geared in armor from head to toe. A bronze chest plate and leggings, a silver helm, and two foot-long daggers that he had sheathed on each thigh.

As they got to just under 40 feet, I could see each of their faces.

Surprisingly, they looked good. The armored one was muscular. His olive skin, high cheekbones, and dirty brown hair made him look like any surfer's wet dream. Add in the blue eyes and I could imagine girls fainting at the sight of him.

But, instead of an athletic build, the bowman was almost your textbook model: his skin was the color of toasted bread, a strong jawline, and his wavy dark was swept into spikes at the top.

But the weirdest thing about him was his eyes. They were...robotic. Not in the way that they were emotionless or soulless. They were cyborg eyes—each one like a celestial bronze polaroid camera, emitting a neutral green light.

"You really believe all this bunkum!" the armored one let out "Mate, I wouldn't give an ounce of credit to any of the people topside. That Melinoe spawn could be—"

"Correct." the bowman cut in. His voice was deep and commanding. "If that boy's information is true, then that is all I care for."

The other just laughed. "Oh yeah, that 'Hunter Boy!' That 'Son of Artemis!' Pfft! He's probably just the son of some idiot god like Lyssa or Hecate or something. Everyone knows that a maiden goddess breaking their vow would be...disastrous. But of course," he chuckled, "you wouldn't have anything to—"

"Lelantos, if you—"

"I'm just saying that it would be a...stain on someone's reputation." he grinned. "But maybe I'm wrong. I mean, what would the Titan of Invisibility know about secrets."

The bowman snarled. "If you say another word I will stab arrows into your eyes. Understand? Now let me do my job."

Lelantos? I wondered. The titan of invisibility

Interesting.

"Arrows into my eyes?" he said in a sarcastic tone. "Hey, maybe I could look like you."

The bowman just grunted and ignored him. He knelt down to one knee and put his hand to the earth. His eyes reflected a red off the granite floor for a moment—scanning every inch of ground in front as if they were computers tracking a delivery. Then a sound, like a high-pitched "congratulations" went off, and the lights on his eyes turned green.