Theo darted through the winding streets of New York, the hum of Strophie's engine syncing with the sarcastic voice emitting from the package strapped to his back. If there was one thing he could count on, it was that hauling a sentient, magical parcel around always meant some combination of chaos and commentary.
"If you sing 'Wonderwall' one more time," Theo muttered, glancing over his shoulder as he wove between traffic, "I swear I'll leave you in a UPS locker."
"I cannot sing 'Wonderwall,' mortal!" the package shot back, its voice dripping with exaggerated indignation. "Not when I am tasked with carrying such an artifact of great power to Wanda Maximoff herself—"
"Yeah, yeah," Theo cut in, easily dodging a pedestrian with a sidestep that made Strophie hum like a well-oiled machine. "The 'key' to the Scarlet Witch, world-changing, power-imbued, cosmic nonsense. You've told me already."
"You should listen better, mortal," the package retorted, voice growing haughty. "You have no idea what you're involved in."
Theo grinned, barely controlling his speed as he tore through a red light. "Right. Like how my boss just 'happened' to tell me I was the only one for the job." He laughed, a sarcastic edge to his tone. "Sure, Hermes didn't mention it. No, his boss gave me this lovely task, and now I'm stuck delivering you to a woman who could probably turn me into a garden gnome if I get too cheeky."
"That would be unwise," the package warned, its tone darkening. "The key I carry is for Wanda Maximoff, a force that can manipulate reality itself. A single misstep, and—"
"Yeah, I got it," Theo interrupted, narrowly avoiding a pothole. "You keep saying that like I should be impressed, but honestly, I've got enough problems. I'm not exactly eager to meet someone who can probably shatter my existence if I make the wrong joke."
"Do not underestimate her, mortal," the package said with a serious note. "Wanda Maximoff is more than you can comprehend. She's been through a great deal, and—"
"Yeah, and I'm just the guy to deliver the most important package in the universe." Theo shot the parcel a mocking smile through his rearview mirror. "What's the worst that could happen? I drop you, she doesn't get her gift, and we all live happily ever after?"
The package made a noise that could only be described as an exaggerated scoff, and for a moment, Theo felt a chill run through the air. "You mock, but you have no idea the danger you're in. The power you wield unknowingly by simply transporting me."
"Oh, please," Theo muttered, swerving to avoid a taxi that came dangerously close to merging into his lane. "I don't even know how I got this gig. Hermes? Nah. It was his boss. Apparently, I'm the only one with the necessary skills to carry this precious cargo. And let's not forget, I've got tact, obviously."
"Do not presume to understand the stakes," the package warned, sounding far more grave than before. "You are carrying something that has the potential to change everything—literally everything."
Theo snorted. "Yeah, yeah. That's what I've been hearing." He maneuvered Strophie around a corner with enough force to make the handlebars shake. "And if I screw up? You think I'm worried about the big cosmic showdown between reality-bending witches and whatever other-worldly beings you keep hinting at? I'm just trying to get this over with so I can take a nap."
"You would do well to be more cautious," the package said ominously. "You may find yourself tangled in forces much larger than you can imagine. It's not just a mission anymore—it's a responsibility."
Theo raised an eyebrow. "Is this you trying to make me feel guilty for running errands? Because I'm pretty sure this isn't in my job description."
The package paused, as if considering how best to deliver its next retort. But before it could continue, Theo felt a sudden bump and a loud THUD from beneath them.
Theo's stomach dropped as Strophie jumped, a pothole from hell catching them off guard. "WHAT THE HELL?!" Theo shouted, barely keeping his balance as the bike wobbled.
"YOU JERK!" the package screeched, its voice high-pitched and panicked. "I told you! That pothole nearly crushed me!"
Theo gritted his teeth, swerving back into control. "You're a package," he shot back, annoyed. "You're literally just a magical box! What could you possibly be worried about?"
"I am not just any package!" the voice hissed, indignant. "I am the key! The bearer of great power, and I will not be insulted by your carelessness!"
"You know," Theo quipped, "if you were so important, you could've just flown to Wanda yourself. But no, I've got to risk my life and some questionable urban infrastructure just to make sure you don't get damaged."
The package huffed, its tone softened by a small measure of irritation. "You are impossible, mortal."
Theo rolled his eyes, but his expression darkened slightly as Strophie's display flashed in front of him, showing a warning:
STROPHIE'S DISPLAY: ROAD RAGE INCIDENT AVOIDED. YOU'RE WELCOME.
Theo couldn't help but grin. "See? Strophie's got my back."
The package went silent for a moment before muttering with renewed disgust, "Your arrogance will be the end of you."
Theo chuckled to himself, shifting his weight in the saddle. "Yeah, yeah. Just don't start singing 'Wonderwall' again. You've already ruined it for me once."
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Theo's tires screeched as he slammed Strophie around another corner, taking the turn just a bit too tight. His heart was still hammering from the pothole incident, but the night air cut through his thoughts with icy clarity. He needed to get this package to Wanda—preferably without any more unwanted side quests.
But then, the unmistakable feeling of being watched hit him. He skidded to a stop, the motorcycle's brakes screeching as it came to a halt in the middle of an empty alley.
Before he could even register the shift in the air, something sharp and cold pressed against his ribs.
"Who gave you the Labyrinth shards?" a voice demanded, sharp and dangerous.
Theo's breath hitched as he whipped his head to the side, barely able to see the woman holding him with the precision of a trained fighter. She had pale blonde hair, stormy eyes, and a look in her gaze that could cut glass.
"Lady," Theo muttered, glancing down at the dagger now dangerously close to his ribs, "my job description starts with 'don't ask questions' and ends with 'try not to die.'" He flexed his fingers slightly, just barely resisting the urge to flick his fingers and let the package do some of the heavy lifting. But no, he needed this one to not explode.
The woman's eyes narrowed, but before she could respond, there was a sharp sound above—something snapping, then the whoosh of someone falling through the air.
Suddenly, a figure landed between them, crashing through a nearby fire escape and kicking debris in all directions.
"Hey!" the new voice shouted, "Unhand the snarky delivery guy!"
Annabeth's gaze flicked upwards, her grip on Theo not loosening even a fraction. "Spider-Man," she said flatly, as if addressing a particularly annoying sibling. "This isn't your fight."
Theo blinked, caught somewhere between relief and confusion. "Wait—you two know each other?!"
Peter, the one and only Spider-Man, gave him a sheepish shrug, a goofy grin spreading across his face. "Yeah, kinda. We've got... history." He glanced at Annabeth with a raised eyebrow. "She thinks my web-shooters are 'unoriginal.'"
Annabeth, without missing a beat, tightened her grip on Theo, the dagger edging closer to his skin. "I'm not here for jokes, Spider-Man. I need answers." She shifted her weight, giving Theo a push against the wall, her eyes searing through him. "The Labyrinth shards. Who gave them to you?"
"Seriously?" Theo said, raising an eyebrow. "You're asking me about the Labyrinth shards? I'm just the delivery guy here. I was told to get this," he gestured to the package, "from point A to point B. What's in it for me? You can't even get me a better job description."
Peter, sensing the tension, cleared his throat, then threw up his hands. "C'mon, Annabeth! He's not our enemy. If you wanted to interrogate anyone, we could go after the real bad guys, right?" His tone was playful, but there was an edge of concern there too.
Annabeth didn't even flinch. Her eyes were still fixed on Theo, the dagger now just barely pressing against the fabric of his shirt. She was too focused on the task at hand to acknowledge Peter further.
"I can't trust anyone, Spider-Man," Annabeth said softly, her tone suddenly serious. "Not after the way they've been moving. The Labyrinth shards are dangerous, and I need to know who's behind them. Now."
Theo, fed up and honestly a little too tired for all of this, lifted his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. Look, you want an answer?" He took a deep breath, feeling the heat of the moment. "I don't know. It wasn't even my idea. My boss—his boss—just said, 'Get this to Wanda Maximoff, and if you screw it up, you're on your own.'"
Annabeth hesitated, her grip loosening just slightly. She seemed to process the information, her eyes narrowing even further as if piecing together a puzzle. "You're saying your 'boss' didn't tell you why you're transporting something as dangerous as a Labyrinth shard?"
Theo shrugged. "I don't make the rules. I just deliver the goods." He gave her a sardonic smile. "You want a bigger secret? I can't even get this guy to sing me a decent song on the ride."
Annabeth's eyes flicked to the package strapped to his back. "It's more than that. Whoever is pulling the strings behind this isn't just some random courier job."
Peter tilted his head at Annabeth, sensing the tension had shifted. "So, wait—does that mean Wanda's in the clear? She's not the one after the shards?"
"I don't know," Annabeth muttered, her dagger still hovering near Theo's ribs, but her focus seemed to have drifted toward the bigger picture. "But whoever's behind all of this won't stop until they have all the pieces."
Theo didn't miss the unease in her voice. Something about her felt more cautious than before, less sure of the world around her.
Before anything else could be said, Theo's phone buzzed in his pocket. He fumbled for it, taking a glance at the incoming message.
It was from his boss.
"Get out of there. Now."
Theo's eyes snapped up. "Well, guess that's my cue." He glanced at Annabeth. "Nice to meet you, again."
With that, he yanked Strophie's throttle, the motorcycle roaring to life and speeding down the alley before anyone could react.
Peter, still processing, turned to Annabeth. "So… he's really not the bad guy? You sure?"
Annabeth sheathed her dagger and looked after Theo's retreating form. "We'll see. But I doubt anyone who delivers dangerous packages without asking questions is clean."
Peter shrugged, an amused grin tugging at his lips. "It's New York, Annabeth. Everybody's got baggage."
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Theo's heart pounded as he darted down the alley, the air crackling with tension. He could feel the presence of something wrong—something watching him from the shadows.
He spun around, eyes scanning. Then, an old woman appeared at the far end of the alley. Her back was hunched, her face obscured by a hood, but there was something... off about her. His instincts screamed at him to move, but before he could even think, she suddenly transformed.
Her body convulsed, skin crackling like burning parchment, and she shifted into a flaming demon, her eyes glowing with a fiery rage.
Theo's mouth went dry.
"Well, that's... definitely not the welcoming committee I was expecting," he muttered, backing up.
The Empousa's lips curled into a twisted smile, her claws gleaming with heat. She let out a guttural growl, the ground beneath her crackling with fiery energy. And then, she lunged.
Theo's eyes widened. This wasn't just a monster—it was an ancient monster. One that would probably wipe the floor with him if he didn't do something very fast.
Without wasting a second, Theo's fingers twitched. In the blink of an eye, his body glitched—and he was gone. His form cracked like a shattered mirror, glitching out of the alley just as the Empousa's claws slashed where he'd been standing.
His mind raced. Keep it together, Theo. Don't get cocky.
He reappeared behind the demon, his body twisting out of nowhere, like a broken TV signal trying to lock in a channel. Theo's landing was unsteady, but he was back on his feet in an instant, flinging his arm out with a fistful of fiery energy that barely missed the Empousa's head.
The Empousa turned, her eyes burning with fury. "Demon!" she hissed.
"Yeah, yeah, that's what I'm saying," Theo said, casually dodging another swipe. "Maybe I look like a demon, but I'm more of a glitchy, dimension-hopping kind of guy."
Theo shifted again, glitching sideways through the air—his body blinking in and out like he was jumping through some cosmic game of hopscotch. He appeared in front of the Empousa, grinning. "Catch me if you can, grandma."
Her claws slashed, but Theo was already gone. He warped downward, his body glitching through the pavement like a bad connection. Just as the Empousa swiped again, Theo emerged, this time underneath her, narrowly avoiding her claws.
"Isn't this fun?" Theo quipped, spinning around and launching a quick punch into her side. "It's like playing tag, but with more fire."
The demon screeched, her fiery tendrils lighting up the alley as she whirled around, fury burning in her gaze. Theo, however, was already glitching again—this time, upward, through the air, like some messed-up version of Superman.
But his glitch wasn't perfect this time. He landed unevenly, stumbling, his feet scraping the air as he nearly collapsed. "Okay, okay. That's enough of the weird reality-bending stuff."
He barely managed to dodge a fireball that shot past him, the blast burning his jacket. "Not my favorite look, but I'll live."
His focus started to fade. The strain of jumping, glitching, and reappearing was starting to take its toll. Theo's movements slowed slightly, his glitches less clean, more erratic. He felt like he was cracking under the pressure, but he couldn't stop now.
"Okay, Theo," he muttered to himself, wiping sweat from his brow. "Just one more jump. You've got this."
The Empousa roared again, lunging toward him, and Theo's body glitched—but this time, something was wrong. His glitch flickered wildly, and Theo split—his body distorting like a fractured mirror as he appeared in two places at once, both flickering. He was nowhere and everywhere.
"Great," Theo groaned, trying to steady himself. "Now I'm glitching in a glitch."
Before he could regain control, the Empousa's fiery tail lashed out, clipping his side and sending him flying into a dumpster. "Ouch. That hurt, lady!"
He scrambled to his feet, his vision blurring as his glitching became more unstable. He barely had time to recover before the sound of webs whizzing through the air filled his ears. A figure in red and blue swung in from above, landing in front of Theo with a thud.
"Whoa, this party's getting wild," Spider-Man said, looking from the flaming demon to Theo. "And I thought my life was weird."
Theo grinned, his breath ragged. "You're telling me. This is my worst date ever."
Spider-Man shot out a web and swung it toward the Empousa, yanking her back and knocking her off-balance. "Well, at least you're not alone now. I'll take the left flank, you take the right?"
"Left?!" Theo shouted, already glitching sideways to avoid a swipe. "I'm not even sure which direction is right anymore."
As Theo flickered into the space behind the Empousa, Annabeth landed next to Spider-Man, her dagger already drawn. She didn't waste any time—she lunged toward the Empousa and, in a smooth motion, stabbed the demon in the side.
"Focus. Left flank," Annabeth ordered, not even looking at Theo.
"Right! Left! Whatever!" Theo said, scrambling and glitching around like a confused raccoon. "I'll do my best!"
The Empousa howled in pain, her fiery form flickering as she struggled against the webs Spider-Man had wrapped around her limbs. Theo appeared next to her, catching his breath, and then shot a playful look at Annabeth. "This is fun, right? Just like one of those escape rooms where everything is on fire and... demon-y."
Annabeth rolled her eyes. "Shut up and focus."
With one last glitching move, Theo reappeared behind the Empousa, landing a hard punch right to her spine as Annabeth's dagger found its mark again. The demon screeched one final time before crumpling into a heap of burning ash.
Theo bent over, hands on his knees, panting. "Well, I'm pretty sure I'm seeing three of you right now. And I think I need a nap. Or a spa day. Like, yesterday."
Spider-Man turned to him with a smirk. "Hey, you did great. You know, for a guy who looks like he's constantly buffering."
Annabeth wiped her dagger clean and gave him a sharp look. "You're not done yet. We've got more to do."
Theo stood up straight, putting on a dramatic face. "I live for the chaos. Can't promise my glitches will be any more graceful, though."
Annabeth just shook her head, muttering under her breath, "Glitch-boy, indeed."
Theo finally arrived at Wanda's apartment, Strophie's engine humming beneath him as they skidded to a stop outside the cluttered building. The city's pulse faded behind him, replaced by the eerie stillness of the space he'd been warned about.
The chaotic magic of the place crawling up his spine like static. The walls were cluttered with mismatched bookshelves, some half-empty, others stacked with grimoires, scrolls, and odd objects that defied all sense of order. A curtain of shimmering, ethereal light hung in the air, casting a strange glow over the room. Everything was… floating. Tables, chairs, even the lamps—hovering lazily, like they didn't care that gravity was supposed to be a thing. The strange ambiance made the air feel dense, heavy with mystery and something far less tangible.
As he crossed the threshold, his gaze immediately landed on a teacup, spinning delicately in mid-air above the coffee table. Theo eyed it suspiciously, its porcelain surface shimmering with an almost unearthly light. He had to admit, there was something eerily beautiful about it. Still, instinct told him to steer clear.
"Don't touch that," Wanda's voice interrupted his thoughts, calm but firm. She was sitting at the table, her eyes tracing his every movement with a quiet intensity. Her expression was almost playful, but the air around her crackled with something far less approachable. "It bites."
Theo raised an eyebrow, a dry chuckle escaping him as he threw up his hands in mock surrender. "Why does everything here bite?" His words were laced with both frustration and fascination, but his eyes didn't leave the floating teacup. Honestly, if this teacup bit him, he might just have to give up on magic altogether.
Peter, who had been drifting around the room in typical Spider-Man fashion, poked a dusty grimoire that was perched precariously on a shelf. The moment his fingers made contact, the book growled—yes, growled—a deep, guttural sound that made Peter jerk his hand back with a startled yelp. The pages of the book fluttered like the wings of an angry bird, snapping at the air.
"Sooo... you're like a magic IT department?" Peter asked, straightening up and dusting off his gloves. His voice was light, the tension in the room still present but somehow muffled by his usual comedic charm. "You fix broken spells and give out magical tech support, right?"
Wanda's eyes narrowed slightly, her lips quirking with a knowing half-smile. She didn't give him a verbal answer, but her lack of reaction told Peter all he needed to know. She wasn't in the mood for jokes.
Annabeth, who had been standing to the side with her arms crossed, watching everything unfold with narrowed eyes, stepped forward. She had been quiet for too long, her patience worn thin.
"The Labyrinth is reforming," she said, her tone sharp, her gaze laser-focused on Wanda. "Who's behind it?"
Wanda's response wasn't immediate. She blinked slowly, as though contemplating how much to reveal. A subtle shift in the room's energy made Theo's skin prickle, but he didn't dare move. Wanda's aura, though calm, was like the eye of a storm—still and controlled, but underneath, something was building.
Her eyes flickered for just a second, the faintest glint of red flashing across her irises. It was almost imperceptible, but Theo saw it. He wasn't sure if it was the magic in the room or something deeper, but the change was enough to make the hairs on his neck stand up.
"The better question is," Wanda began, her voice low and deliberate, "who's weaving it?"
The words hit Theo like a splash of cold water. His chest tightened for a second, and before he could even think about it, his own body reacted. He felt a warmth deep inside him, followed by an odd, pulsing sensation—something inside his chest glowed, radiating gold light through the fabric of his shirt. He didn't know what it was, only that it felt like something was waking up within him.
Theo stumbled back slightly, his heart racing. The glow from his chest flickered, pulsed, almost like a heartbeat that wasn't his own, and he quickly placed a hand over the spot where the light was coming from. It felt like an energy he couldn't control, something tied to him in ways he couldn't begin to understand. Was it the package? Was it the Labyrinth?
Wanda, noticing his reaction, didn't look surprised. In fact, her smile deepened, as though she had been expecting this. The air around them thickened with magic, and for the first time, Theo felt truly out of his depth.
Wanda's eyes remained locked on him, not missing a beat. "The pieces are already in motion," she murmured, her voice almost a whisper. "And now, you've become part of it."
Theo's pulse quickened, his chest still glowing faintly with that strange golden light. There was a terrifying sense of inevitability in her words, like he was a mere pawn in a much larger game. He opened his mouth to respond, but the words stuck in his throat, the weight of the situation sinking in.
It wasn't just the Labyrinth. It wasn't just the package. This was bigger than anything he could have prepared for.
Wanda's eyes lingered on him for a moment longer before she stood, her movements graceful and deliberate, as if she were considering her next steps. She said nothing more for now, but Theo could feel the tension in the room grow thicker by the second. Whatever was happening, he was in the thick of it now—and there was no going back.
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Theo crouched low, squinting through the damp fog that hung in the alley. His fingers brushed against something hard and cold, half-buried in the grime. The instant his hand closed around it, his pulse quickened—this wasn't just any coin. He could feel it, like a jolt of electricity pulsing through his fingertips. A drachma, but the symbol etched into its surface was unmistakable: a trident, sharp and menacing, its edges almost glowing in the dim light.
He flicked the coin between his fingers, the cool metal reflecting the streetlamp's weak glow. His heart thudded in his chest. The design... it didn't belong here. Not in this alley, not in this moment. Not with the weight of something else hanging in the air.
"Uh…" Theo muttered, holding it up to the flickering light like it would explain itself. "Does this mean we're doing sewer spelunking now?"
Before he could even process the absurdity of it, the low hum of Strophie's engine surged to life beneath him, the sound vibrating through his legs. Theo glanced at the bike. It was practically bouncing on its own, eager, ready for action.
STROPHIE: SEWER NAVIGATION: PRELOADED. HOLD YOUR NOSE.
"Really? Sewer navigation?" Theo scowled at it, eyeing the motorcycle as if it had just insulted him. "You think this is funny?"
The hum deepened, the engine growling in response, like Strophie was daring him to complain more. Theo sighed, letting the coin slip into his pocket with a resigned grunt.
But just as he turned away, a shift in the air caught his attention. The stillness in the alley grew thick, like someone had just pulled the plug on all the sound. The hairs on his neck stood on end as a cold ripple danced up his spine, a feeling too familiar to ignore. His breath hitched, and he glanced around instinctively, his eyes darting over every shadow.
It was the puddle beneath the streetlamp that caught his attention. The surface of the water rippled—no wind, no movement—but something was off. The reflection flickered. At first, it was just a trick of the light, but then, the distortion sharpened. The shape shifted, lengthened, as if bending reality around it.
Theo felt the hairs on his neck prickle, a deep, crawling sensation twisting in his gut. His fingers were still clenched around the drachma, but they were numb, like the coin was burning through his skin. He swallowed hard, the air thick with anticipation, his pulse pounding in his ears.
His gaze remained locked on the puddle, and in that stillness, the reflection shifted again. It wasn't just the ripple of the water anymore; the entire shape warped, like the glassy surface of reality had cracked, bending in on itself. The face that stared back at him was a shadow, but it carried the weight of knowing, of seeing too much, of waiting for something to snap. The eyes gleamed—dangerous, wild.
And then, the voice.
"Right on schedule."
It was more than just words. The tone was an undercurrent, slithering into Theo's chest, tightening around his ribs, suffocating him with its intent. The trickster god didn't need to be there. Theo felt him anyway, all around him, pressing down like a weight he couldn't escape.
Theo's fingers tightened involuntarily, the drachma burning against his skin like a brand, a tether pulling him deeper into something much darker. His heart hammered in his chest, every beat a warning that he was running out of time, running out of options.
For a moment, Theo was frozen—caught in the gravity of Loki's presence, as if the world had slowed down, and all that existed was the reflection and the creeping realization that nothing was as it seemed. His breath hitched, his body screaming at him to run, but his legs wouldn't move. He was caught, trapped in the moment, in the certainty that whatever was coming, it was already too late.
And then, like a spark in the darkness, a single thought broke through the fog.
No. Not this time.
Theo's muscles tensed, every nerve firing as he slammed his hand into his pocket, clutching the drachma with a newfound sense of urgency. His vision snapped back into focus. He wasn't going to be a pawn in this game—not this time. He was done being pushed around.
The weight in his chest lifted, just slightly, enough to make him stand tall. A fire ignited in his gut, fierce and raw, and for the first time in a long while, Theo felt the edge of something dangerous stir inside him.
He spun away from the puddle with a grimace, pushing the chaos of the reflection from his mind. His eyes locked onto Strophie, and without hesitation, he mounted the bike, the engine roaring to life beneath him, his grip tight around the handlebars.
"I've had enough of this," Theo muttered to himself, his voice low, controlled, but laced with fire. "You can't control me."
The bike revved, the air around him buzzing with the promise of movement. As Theo sped away into the night, the weight of the drachma heavy in his pocket, he felt the stirrings of something bigger, darker, and far more dangerous than he'd ever imagined.
But now, he was ready.