Aditya was finally asleep.
Like, actually asleep. The deep, dead-to-the-world kind of sleep you only get after running for your life for three days straight while fighting dragons and immortal warriors.
The Hunter camp had gone quiet. Most of the Hunters were in their tents. A few sentries kept watch, silent and alert like very judgmental cats.
And Artemis?
She was standing outside Aditya's tent.
Just... staring at it.
Looking majorly pissed off.
The Problem
Here's the thing about Artemis: she'd seen thousands of demigods over the millennia. Greek, Roman, even Egyptian, some Norse—you name a type, she'd met them.
And they all felt basically the same.
Divine blood watered down by mortality. Powerful? Sure. But limited. Always limited by that mortal half dragging them down.
This boy?
He felt wrong.
Not evil-wrong. Not corrupted-wrong. Just... cosmically incorrect, like someone had filed him in the wrong category and now reality didn't know what to do with him.
When he'd stumbled into her camp earlier—covered in dragon blood, running on fumes, about three seconds from collapse—her hunting instincts had kicked in immediately. She'd sized him up the way she always did.
And her instincts had screamed at her.
Not "danger." Not "threat."
Something else entirely.
Ancient.
Pure.
His power didn't feel like diluted divine blood. It felt like someone had grabbed the actual essence of the sun—not Helios's sun, not Apollo's sun, but the original sun, the cosmic fire that made stars—and just... poured it into a mortal body.
Pure. Undiluted. Primal.
Like divine power from the first days, before pantheons existed, before Olympus, before the Titans.
Which was impossible.
Demigods didn't feel like that. Ever.
Even the strongest ones—Perseus, Heracles, Achilles—they were mortal first, divine second. That was how it worked.
This kid? He felt different, like a custom forged mortal overflowing with divine essence.
How?
"My lady?"
Artemis turned. Zoe appeared from the shadows, silent as always.
"Thou art troubled."
"I'm... curious," Artemis corrected. Troubled made her sound uncertain. She didn't do uncertain. "About the boy."
"He sleeps soundly. Exhaustion hath claimed him fully."
"Yeah." Artemis looked back at the tent. "Tell me something, Zoe. When you saw him fight earlier. What did you sense?"
Zoe thought about it. "Power. Unfamiliar power. Not Greek, not Roman. Something... older."
"Older." Artemis repeated the word. "That's exactly it."
She moved closer to the tent, like she could figure him out through the canvas if she just stared hard enough.
"He's not prey," she said, more to herself than to Zoe. "Too dangerous for that. But he's not a predator either. Too controlled. Too... restrained."
"He is unique," Zoe offered.
"Unique." Artemis almost laughed. "That's one word for it. A creature I can neither hunt nor tame."
She was quiet for a moment.
"I don't like mysteries in my camp."
The Stars Freak Out
They walked away from camp, Zoe following her lady to a clearing where the night sky stretched out overhead, clear and infinite.
"I'll consult the stars," Artemis announced.
Zoe just nodded. She'd seen this a thousand times. The constellations talked to Artemis. Showed her truths. Revealed secrets.
It was basically Google for goddesses.
Artemis raised her hand toward the heavens. Silver light flowed from her fingers—cold, pale, moonlight made solid.
"Show me," she commanded. Not asked. Commanded. "Show me the boy. His past. His nature. His purpose."
The stars responded.
Like they always did.
Except... not correctly.
Zoe's eyes went wide.
The constellations were moving.
Not arranging themselves into patterns or answers.
Disarranging.
Orion shifted wrong. Ursa Major scattered like someone had kicked a connect-the-dots puzzle. Draco twisted into shapes that hurt to look at.
The entire night sky became chaos.
Stars flickering. Uncertain. Confused.
Artemis's hand started trembling.
She wasn't getting information.
She was getting... feedback. Like when you put a microphone too close to a speaker and it just screeches at you.
The stars didn't know.
Couldn't understand.
Were genuinely bewildered by what they saw in this kid.
"My lady!" Zoe stepped forward as Artemis staggered.
The goddess caught herself, lowering her hand quickly.
The stars slowly crawled back to their proper positions, like they were embarrassed about the whole thing.
But Artemis was breathing hard. Actually winded. When was the last time that had happened?
"What... what hath happened?" Zoe asked.
Artemis stared at the sky.
"The stars can't read him."
"What?"
"They tried. I felt them trying. Searching his fate, his past, his essence." She turned to look at Zoe, and for the first time in centuries, Zoe saw genuine confusion in her lady's eyes. "They found... nothing. And everything. Contradictions. Impossibilities. They're as confused as I am."
She looked back at the camp. At his tent.
"That shouldn't be possible."
The Dangerous Plan
They walked back to camp in silence.
Artemis stopped outside the boy's tent again, because apparently she couldn't stay away from this particular mystery.
"There's one other way," she said quietly.
Zoe tensed. "My lady?"
"I could look into his soul. Directly."
"That's—" Zoe stopped herself. Started again. "That's dangerous."
"Yes."
"Souls aren't meant to be gazed upon. Not even by gods. There's a reason we consult stars and read fates instead of just... diving into someone's soul. It's private. Sacred. Forbidden."
"I know," Artemis said.
Pause.
"But the stars can't tell me. And I need to know."
"Why?" Zoe demanded. "Why risk such danger?"
Artemis looked at her lieutenant straight on.
"Because he's in my camp. With my Hunters. And his power feels wrong."
"If he's dangerous, if his presence threatens my Hunt, I need to know now."
Zoe understood. Protection. That's what this was about. Her lady protecting her sisters.
"What are the risks?" she asked.
Artemis considered.
"For him? If I stay too long, my divine mind could burn through his mortal soul. Divine presence isn't meant to linger in mortal consciousness. It's like holding a magnifying glass over paper in sunlight—eventually, it burns."
"He might wake up during the process. Might sense the intrusion. The shock alone could damage him."
"For me?" She shrugged. "I'll see everything. All of it. Everything he is and was. Souls don't lie. Can't lie. I'll know his deepest truths, his worst secrets, his hidden motivations."
"But the real risk is to him, not me."
"Then do not do it," Zoe said immediately.
Artemis smiled. Small. Sad.
"You show concern about him."
"I—" Zoe stopped. "I just think the risk is unnecessary."
"Maybe."
Artemis moved toward the tent entrance.
"But I'm the Goddess of the Hunt. Of the moon. Of the wild places."
"And he's the wildest thing I've encountered since many years."
"I have to understand him."
She looked back at Zoe.
"Stand guard. I'll be quick. In and out before I can do any real damage. But if he wakes up violently, you know what to do."
Zoe's hand went to her bow.
"...Aye, my lady."
Artemis entered the tent.
Inside His Head
Inside, Aditya was out cold.
And I mean out.
He wasn't curled up peacefully or anything cute like that. No, he was sprawled across the bedroll like someone had just dropped him from a height—one arm flung over his head, the other hanging off the side, legs at weird angles.
And he was snoring.
Not gentle, peaceful breathing. Snoring. Like a chainsaw. Like an elephant with a sinus infection. Like someone trying to inhale the entire tent.
SNNNNNORRRRRRRE.
Artemis's eye twitched.
SNNNNNORRRRRRRE.
She was a goddess. Ancient. Powerful. She'd faced Titans and monsters and—
SNNNNNORRRRRRRE.
—okay, that was getting really annoying.
"How does he breathe like that?" she muttered.
But she studied his face anyway, between the snores.
Fourteen. Still had that softness that teenagers get before their faces harden. But even in sleep, even while sounding like a dying walrus, there was weight in his expression. The kind that came from seeing too much, carrying too much.
What are you?
She placed two fingers on his forehead.
He didn't even stir. Just kept snoring.
Artemis closed her eyes.
Drew her divine power inward this time, not outward. Diving. Not into his mind—deeper than that. Past thoughts, past memories, past consciousness.
Into the soul.
The place where truth lived.
She felt resistance immediately.
Not from him—he was unconscious, totally unaware, and apparently trying to wake the entire camp with his snoring.
From something else.
A barrier. Not magical. Not placed there by anyone. Just... natural. Like his soul was wrapped in cosmic bubble wrap.
Artemis pushed harder.
The barrier pushed back.
She pushed harder.
I am Artemis. Olympian. I will NOT be denied access to a teenage boy's soul for purely legitimate goddess reasons.
The barrier cracked.
And she fell through.
The Memories
She fell into his soul.
And immediately, memories unfolded around her like a movie playing on fast-forward.
The original boy—before death:
An ordinary teenager. Indian.
Karna's bloodline—but diluted over millennia. Nothing special.
No divine powers. Just a boy who did martial arts and liked the old stories.
Walking home from training one evening.
Had his whole life ahead of him.
His death:
The sky tearing open.
A golden chariot.
A young guy driving it, looking at his phone.
Not at the road.
Impact.
White light. Then black. Then nothing.
Artemis recoiled.
He was mortal. Completely, totally mortal.
Karna's blood had thinned out over thousands of years until it was basically nothing.
Just a normal kid with warrior ancestors.
Killed by a god who wasn't watching where he was going.
The afterlife:
Floating. No body. Just soul.
Vishnu. Sitting on the cosmic serpent Sheshnaga. Looking... really confused.
"Hain? Ye kya hua?" (What happened?)
The boy explaining what happened.
Vishnu's rage. Divine, cosmic, absolute.
Phone call to Zeus.
Zeus HANGING UP ON HIM.
Vishnu's fury intensifying to levels that made reality wobble.
Artemis watched this with growing shock.
Zeus hung up on Vishnu?
Over an accident caused by a Greek god?
No wonder the Preserver was angry. That was basically the divine equivalent of a slap in the face.
The deal—not rebirth, but TRANSFORMATION:
"I'm sending someone to shake things up."
"Cosmic compensation for divine negligence."
Karna appearing. The actual Karna. In full divine glory.
"I am proud to call you my kin."
The boy's soul basically blue-screening. Complete system failure.
When he rebooted: YELLING at Vishnu himself.
"I'M DEAD! DEAD BECAUSE SOME GREEK GOD WAS TEXTING AND DRIVING!"
Artemis almost laughed despite herself.
This kid had yelled at the Preserver of the Universe. About texting and driving.
And Vishnu had looked embarrassed.
The transformation:
"Karna will give blood. Direct bloodline."
"You become Surya's direct descendant. Full power package."
"Then I throw you into the Greek pantheon like a cosmic grenade."
Not reincarnation. Not rebirth.
Fusion.
The boy who died, given Karna's divine blood, made into a demigod by Vishnu's direct intervention.
Artemis understood now.
He wasn't born a demigod.
He was made one.
After death.
As cosmic compensation for being roadkill.
The gifts chosen:
Mahadev and Parvati showing up.
Krishna appearing (somehow occupying the same space as Vishnu because Hindu gods apparently don't care about physics).
The boy waving them all off while plotting elaborate revenge on Hermes.
Maniacal giggling.
"...challenge him to a race but with FIRE..."
The gods collectively: "Is he okay?"
Choosing powers:
Karna's Kavach and Kundal (armor and earrings, very shiny)
Surya's fire manifestation (because of course)
Weapon mastery from Mahadev's Boon
Divine Adaptation from Vishnu (because Hindu gods go big)
Parvati's blessing (something that made the virgin goddess blush)
Age adjusted: 15 to 14 (much complaining)
Krishna literally YEETING him across pantheons like a cosmic baseball.
"YEET!"
Crashing into Camp Half-Blood like a meteor.
Artemis pulled back from the memories, stunned.
He's not a traditional demigod at all.
He's a dead mortal given divine blood after death and thrown into the Greek world as petty revenge because Zeus hung up on Vishnu.
Gods were petty everywhere, apparently.
His life at camp:
Waking up naked in a crater. Fun times.
Chiron's explanations not really helping.
Getting stuck in the Hermes cabin. The irony.
Training with Luke.
Can't read Ancient Greek (not born into this pantheon, file not found).
Getting a quest prophecy.
Six mortals dying because he tempted fate.
So. Much. Guilt.
His fears:
Fear of failing.
Fear of getting more people killed.
Fear he's not good enough.
Fear Vishnu made a mistake.
Fear Karna's curse will repeat through him.
Fear of being alone in a world that's not his own.
A fourteen-year-old carrying weight that would break most adults.
The prophecy:
Still burned into his mind:
"Where Ares' beast lies bound in night,
The shattering lord awaits the fight.
Fire must face what breaks apart,
The traitor's shadow marks the start.
Free the scales or join the fall,
Before destruction claims it all."
Artemis absorbed all of it.
He's a kid. Given terrible circumstances. Trying his best to survive in a world that's not his.
I can work with that.
The Boons
And then there were the boons.
She sensed it—layers deeper in his soul. The divine gifts themselves, woven into his very being.
Curiosity rose in her. Powers from gods not of her pantheon. Foreign divine energies she'd never encountered.
What were they? How did they work?
She extended her divine mind, reaching out to analyze them.
Kavach and Kundal - armor and earrings, divine protection, unbreakable—
Surya's fire - not like Apollo's light or Hephaestus's forge-fire, something else, something older—
Weapon Mastery - which was not even the most broken
Divine Adaptation - and this one was strange, fluid, reactive, changing based on—
She pushed her consciousness deeper into that last one, trying to understand—
What is this? How does it—
She reached out with her divine senses to touch it, to analyze it—
And suddenly—
EVERYTHING SHIFTED.
The peaceful mindscape shattered.
The memories dissolved.
And Artemis found herself standing on—
A BATTLEFIELD.
She stumbled.
Blood-soaked earth beneath her feet.
Bodies everywhere. Thousands. Tens of thousands. Millions.
Warriors in armor she didn't recognize. Overturned chariots. Dead elephants. Screaming horses.
The sky was red with smoke and fire. The smell of death so thick she could taste it.
Where—?
This wasn't his memories anymore.
This was something else. Something deeper.
This was ancient memory pulled from the divine blood itself.
From Karna's essence.
The Kurukshetra War.
The greatest war of the ancient East, where kingdoms fell and heroes died and gods themselves had intervened.
And in the center of it all—
A warrior beside a sunken chariot. Wheels trapped in mud.
He wore simple clothes—dhoti and angavastra. Golden jewelry. Earrings that gleamed like small suns.
No armor—he'd given it away.
No divine weapons—he'd been cursed to forget how to use them.
Just a man.
But what a man.
Artemis stared.
She'd seen beautiful men before. Apollo. Adonis. Paris of Troy.
This warrior made them look plain.
Not because of his features—though his face was noble, strong, perfectly proportioned.
But because of presence.
He radiated dignity. Nobility. Tragedy.
Even sitting in defeat, covered in blood, dying—he looked like a king.
The most beautiful man Artemis had ever seen.
(And yes, she was annoyed at herself for thinking it.)
The warrior looked up.
Saw her.
And smiled. Sad. Knowing. Gentle.
When he spoke, his voice was like warm sunlight:
"I would appreciate if you would not interfere with my kin's mind."
Pause.
"And his soul."
The Challenge
Artemis's mind raced.
Karna. The cursed warrior. The generous. The doomed.
She'd heard stories even in Greece, even millennia later. But stories didn't do him justice.
This was the soul-echo of a man who'd fought gods and fate itself. And won, in his own way.
But her pride—as a god, as goddess of the hunt, as an archer—wouldn't let her back down.
Artemis summoned her bow.
Silver. Moonlight made solid. Forged by Hephaestus himself.
She nocked an arrow. Aimed at Karna's heart.
"You may be legend," she said coldly. "But I am goddess. And I do what I want. So Stand aside."
Karna looked at the arrow pointed at him.
And smiled more. Not mockery. Not cruelty. Sadness. Like laughing at a bitter joke.
"Yeah," he said quietly. "That will not end well for you, litle gir- goddess"
Little girl.
ARTEMIS. GODDESS OF OLYMPUS. ANCIENT AND POWERFUL BEYOND MORTAL RECKONING.
Called. LITTLE GIRL.
Rage flooded through her.
"You may be KARNA," she snarled. "But I am a GOD. And YOU will show me RESPECT."
Karna sighed.
Stood up.
And up.
And up.
Gods, he was TALL. Eight and a half feet easily. Broad shoulders. Built like he'd been carved from bromze and then given life.
He towered over her twelve-year-old form and smiled down at her. Still sad. Still gentle.
"As you wish, goddess."
The Bow
Karna raised his hand.
Golden light exploded around him.
When it faded, he held a bow.
Not like her silver moonlight bow. Not like Apollo's golden sunbow.
This was different.
Ancient. Eastern. Powerful.
Made of what looked like horn and wood, but Artemis could feel the divinity radiating from it. Carvings covered every inch—Sanskrit prayers, divine blessings. The string hummed with barely-contained power.
Vijaya. The bow given to Karna by Parashurama. The bow that had never missed. The bow that could kill gods. And yet the bow he could not wield in his penultimate battle.
Oh, Artemis thought. I've made a mistake.
But pride wouldn't let her back down.
She drew her bow. Silver arrow nocked. Moonlight blazing.
"On three?" Karna asked politely.
"On three," she agreed.
"One."
Both archers settled into perfect stance. Mirror images of deadly grace.
"Two."
Power built. Silver and gold. Moon and sun.
The battlefield held its breath.
"Three."
The Shot
They released simultaneously.
Artemis's arrow was perfect. She'd shot it a trillion times. Never missed. Couldn't miss. Moonlight made lethal, aimed at Karna's heart, impossible to dodge, impossible to block.
It flew true.
Karna's arrow was... more.
Golden-red fire trailing behind it like a comet. Power so immense the air screamed. Not just an arrow. A meteor.
The arrows met mid-air.
CRACK.
Artemis's arrow was bisected. Cut perfectly in half. Both pieces spinning away uselessly.
Karna's arrow continued. Unimpeded. Unstoppable.
Coming straight for her.
Artemis tried to dodge—
Too late.
The arrow hit her. Not physically—this was a mindscape—but the power hit. Like being struck by a falling star.
She was thrown backwards. Out. OUT. OUT OF THE MINDSCAPE.
Flying through layers of consciousness, memories flashing past, the soul's structure dissolving around her, reality itself rejecting her—
The Ejection
Even as she was thrown out—violently expelled from Aditya's mind—she heard Karna's voice. Respectful. Polite. Gentle. Apologetic:
"O Goddess, if this were the material world, I would give you all honor and respect you deserve."
"You are mighty. You are ancient. You are worthy."
"But here, my kin's safety is paramount."
"Please understand. I do not wish to harm you. Only to protect him."
"He has suffered enough."
"Do not make him suffer more."
The voice faded.
And Artemis was—
Back to Reality
—GASPING.
In the tent. On her knees beside Aditya's sleeping form.
Her hand jerked back from his forehead like she'd touched a hot stove.
She was shaking. Actually trembling. Goddess. Olympian. Ancient power. Shaking like a leaf.
Her bow—which she'd manifested in the real world during the duel—clattered to the ground.
Aditya slept on, completely unaware.
But Artemis saw differently now.
His aura—previously just powerful—now showed its true nature. Two presences, overlaid:
The boy. Young, scared, determined.
And Karna. Ancient, noble, protective.
The warrior's soul-echo was guarding him. From her. From gods. Maybe from fate itself.
He doesn't even know, Artemis realized.
She stood on trembling legs. Looked down at the sleeping boy one last time.
"You're more than a demigod," she whispered. "You're a legacy."
Outside
Zoe was waiting, tense, bow ready.
She saw Artemis emerge—pale, shaking, bow dropped—and immediately rushed forward.
"MY LADY! What hath happened?! What didst thou see?!"
Artemis looked at her lieutenant. For a long moment, she couldn't speak.
Then, quietly: "I saw... too much."
"My lady?"
Artemis straightened, composing herself. Goddess returning. "And I was reminded of my place."
Zoe's eyes widened. "What meanest thou?"
"The boy's secrets are his own," Artemis said firmly. "I had no right to intrude as I did."
"But—"
"I'll say only this: He's not what we thought. Not simple. Not just another demigod."
She met Zoe's eyes. "But he's not a threat. Of this, I'm certain."
"How canst thou be certain?"
"Because I've seen his soul. And it's..." she paused, "...noble. Wounded. Burdened. But noble."
"And his power?"
"Old. Very old. Not Greek."
Zoe waited for more.
"That's all you need to know," Artemis said. "That's all anyone needs to know."
"My lady, surely the Hunters deserve—"
"The Hunters deserve to know he's not a danger to them," Artemis interrupted. "The rest is his story to tell. Not mine."
She looked back at the tent. "I violated his privacy tonight. Looked where I had no right to look. I won't make it worse by spreading his secrets."
Zoe studied her carefully. "Thou... respectest him."
"I respect his right to his own story," Artemis corrected. "As we all should."
Pause.
"Now. Summon the council."
The Council
Within minutes, senior Hunters gathered.
Phoebe, Atalanta, Naomi, three others. All looking concerned and curious.
Artemis stood before them, composed. Regal.
"I've investigated the boy."
Not "looked into his soul." Just "investigated." Careful wording.
"And?" Phoebe demanded.
"And he's not a threat to this Hunt."
"How canst thou be certain?"
"Because I have methods of knowing," Artemis said flatly. "Trust me: he means us no harm."
"But what is he?" Atalanta asked. "His power is unlike anything—"
"He's a demigod. With divine blood. That's all you need to know."
"My lady—"
"That is all," Artemis repeated, steel in her voice.
The Hunters fell silent.
"His origins are his own business. I won't share what's not mine to share."
She looked at each of them. "What you do need to know: He's honorable. He carries great guilt over those who died on that bus. He's exhausted, weaponless, far from home."
"He's also," she added, "under my protection now."
Shocked silence.
"My lady?" Zoe said carefully. "Thou art... protecting him?"
"I'm declaring him guest-friend to the Hunt. Anyone who harms him harms me."
She met Phoebe's eyes directly. "Understood?"
Phoebe looked away first. "...Aye, my lady."
"Good." Artemis took a breath. "Now. I must leave in the morning. Olympus summons. I can't refuse."
More shock. "Leave?"
"I'll take most of the Hunt with me. But I'm leaving a small team behind."
She looked at Zoe. "Thou wilt remain. With Phoebe, Atalanta, and Naomi."
"My lady—"
"Watch him. Keep him safe. Work with him if needed."
"But why only four of us?"
"Because the boy has a quest to Alcatraz. And he is hunted by the same target we've been hunting."
She let that sink in. "Our paths are aligned."
"Until then: small team. Less conspicuous. You four will be enough."
Zoe bowed. "As thou command."
Artemis looked around the circle. "The boy's name is Aditya. He's fourteen. Far from home. No weapon. Carries guilt and burden."
"Treat him with the respect due a fellow warrior. Not as a threat. Not as prey. Not as a male to be scorned."
"As a warrior who's earned his place through combat."
Pause. "Any questions?"
Silence.
"Then dismissed. We leave at dawn."
The Hunters dispersed, whispering.
Only Zoe remained.
"My lady," she said quietly. "What didst thou truly see?"
Artemis looked at her most trusted lieutenant.
"I saw a boy who shouldn't exist. Who was given a second chance through means I don't fully understand. Who carries power from sources older than Olympus."
She met Zoe's eyes. "That is all you need to know. The rest... ask him yourself. If he chooses to share."
"But my lady—"
"Zoe." Artemis's voice was gentle. "Some secrets art not ours to tell."
"I looked where I shouldn't have. I won't make it worse by spreading what I learned."
"His story is his. When he trusts you enough, maybe he'll share it. But that's his choice."
Zoe slowly nodded. "I understand, my lady."
"Good." Artemis turned toward her tent. "Now. I must rest. Tomorrow will be... complicated."
She paused at the entrance. "Zoe?"
"My lady?"
"When I'm gone... be kind to him. He's suffered more than most would survive."
"...Aye, my lady."
Artemis disappeared into her tent.
Zoe stood alone in the darkness, looking toward Aditya's tent.
What secrets dost thou carry, strange warrior? And why doth my lady guard them so fiercely?
She would find out. Eventually.
But she would do it the right way. By earning his trust. Not by invading his privacy as Artemis had done and clearly regretted.
The camp settled into silence.
Aditya slept on, unaware of the goddess who'd looked into his soul. Unaware of the warrior-echo who'd protected him. Unaware of the mystery he represented.
Tomorrow would bring new challenges.
But tonight, he was safe.
Under the protection of Artemis herself.
END CHAPTER 15