I haven’t mastered walking on wooden floors. There always seems to be that one squeaky board in every home intent on blowing my cover. I haphazardly step on it, causing a noise that might as well be an air horn in this quiet room.
Yes, I may be on the hunt for Titans older than literal time, but I also need help. Someone I can trust, but also not tell me how terrible my idea is. Besides, I don’t trust Erebus, especially after how weird he has been recently. Secret phone calls and suddenly having to leave? Nope. I need an assistant of my own, and who better than Chuck?
“I did have a feeling you were not paying attention to my daily floor updates all this time. I swear, master. Sometimes you have the attention span of a toddler.”
“Well, feed me mushy peas and grape juice then, Luis. Do toddlers sleep out in the forest? I’m not Tarzan, you know.”
I can do this. It is only temporary, right? I survived trying to destroy Olympus and a thousand years in Tartarus. This will be easy. I’ll just live with the man I am in love with but can’t have, try to hunt down two mad titans, avoid my enemies from my past, and control my powers. Piece of cake.
That’s right, follow your family tree back far enough and you’ll find that you’re related to a lump of clay. Most of mankind has evolved since then, thanks to fire. What can I say except, you’re welcome. I say most because there are still a few humans out there with the IQ of a plant pot.