Damian II

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Damian collapsed onto the burning sea of sand, causing bits of dry, crunchy particles to layer the edge of his mouth. His sun-scorched neck burned from the heat as the arid wind blew sand around his limp body. Damian's eyes opened with a jolt as he sat up and looked around him. There wasn't much to see, just sand and hills made of... sand. In the distance, he could see a faint line of small upright objects. The shimmering of the desert heat made it hard to see but this solidified Damian's will to push on. He took a deep breath and forced himself to keep trudging through the unending slog of yellow sand. After what seemed to be decades, Damian saw the road. Trees came into view and he could hear muffled sounds of voices.

Damian ruffled through his pockets, searching for whatever he had. With Olympus Command excommunicating him, a large majority of his funds were cut off. Damian managed to scrounge together twenty dollars in loose bills as he sighed and walked up to a nearby drink stand. Passerbys stared at Damian's blood-soaked and sand-encrusted shirt but quickly glanced away.

"Hello! Would you like some boba tea?" The seller asked.

"Just give me the biggest one you have." He responded, exasperated.

Damian sat down with his newly acquired tea and proceeded to drink all of it in one go. He felt like he should have used the straw they gave him but it was too late for that. Damian chugged the tea and nearly choked on the squishy black pearls that he forgot were in his drink.

After coughing for half a minute, Damian gathered his bearings and scanned the surrounding area. He saw a slight movement in the trees and realized that a hooded figure with white hair and purple tips was tailing him. Damian slowly got up, sprinted away from the park and into a nearby clothing store.

As he opened the door, the bells jingled and he saw the back of a woman's head. Her hair was the most peculiar color and shape. Her hair stuck up like a pine tree that had been splashed with black paint on one side and white on the other.

"We're closed," she said with a snobby British accent as Damian continued to stare at her black leather jacket and cane.

He shrugged and just walked back out the front door and into a nearby alleyway when he heard voices coming from a nearby building's basement. Yet there was something strange about what was being discussed, they were conversing about... him.

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