The Path Of Glory (Annabeth Chase x Male Reader)

72. The Inventor Of The Labyrinth

A few minutes later, Ethan came to sit next to Y/N. He looked alternatively to Y/N and Annabeth. "She's sleeping?"

"Yes," Y/N said, all the while shaking his head to say no.

Ethan nodded. "I was thinking I'll take first watch," he said. "You should sleep, too."

"Okay. Wake me up when you can't keep your eyes open any longer, I'll take over."

Y/N lay down. He didn't like sleeping in the Labyrinth, but he was so tired that he fell asleep as soon as his eyes closed.

Y/N woke with Ethan shaking his shoulder. "Y/N, wake up!"

"What is it?" he asked.

"Earthquake, that's what it is!"

Sure enough, the room was rumbling.

Y/N saw Rachel grabbing her pack while waking Percy up. He'd barely grabbed his own backpack when Annabeth pulled him by the arm, and the five of them ran. They were almost to the far tunnel when a column next to them groaned and buckled. They kept going as a hundred tons of marble crashed down behind them.

They made it to the corridor and turned just in time to see the other columns toppling. A cloud of white dust billowed over them, and they kept running.

"Rachel," Percy said, "is this the right way?"

"Yes," Rachel said.

"You know what?" Ethan said. "I like this way."

It wasn't long before they saw light up ahead—regular electric lighting.

"There," Rachel said.

They followed her into a stainless steel hallway, like you would imagine they'd have on a space station. Fluorescent lights glowed from the ceiling. The floor was a metal grate.

Y/N was so used to being in the darkness that he had to squint. Annabeth looked pale in the harsh illumination.

"This way," Rachel said, beginning to run. "We're close!"

"This is so wrong!" Annabeth said. "The workshop should be in the oldest section of the maze. This can't—"

She faltered, because they'd arrived at a set of metal double doors. Inscribed in the steel, at eye level, was a large blue Greek Δ.

"We're here," Rachel announced. "Daedalus's workshop."

Annabeth pressed the symbol on the doors and they hissed open.

"So much for ancient architecture," Ethan said.

The first thing that struck Y/N was the daylight—blazing sun coming through giant windows. Not the kind of thing you expect in the heart of a dungeon. The workshop was like an artist's studio, with thirty-foot ceilings and industrial lighting, polished stone floors, and workbenches along with windows. A spiral staircase led up to a second-story loft. Half a dozen easels displayed hand-drawn diagrams for buildings and machines that looked like Leonardo da Vinci's sketches. Several laptop computers were scattered around on the tables. Glass jars of green oil—Greek fire—lined one shelf. There were inventions, too—weird metal machines you couldn't make sense of. One was a bronze chair with a bunch of electrical wires attached to it, like some kind of torture device. In another corner stood a giant metal egg about the size of a man. There was a grandfather clock that appeared to be made entirely of glass, so you could see all the gears turning. And hanging on the wall were several sets of bronze and silver wings.

"Di immortales," Annabeth muttered. She ran to the nearest easel and looked at the sketch. "He's a genius. Look at the curves on this building!"