𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | pjo

six

lyla ran down to the basement, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. 

gods, she hated running

"oh my gods, oh my gods," she muttered as she basically fell down half the staircase. 

"lyla?!" annabeth called from the darkness. 

"yep," she managed to reply, clutching her side. "i hate running so much, dude."

she was then enveloped in a hug so tight that her ribs ached. she patted the hugger on the back, feeling corduroy and braided hair—yep, annabeth. 

"glad to see you too," she said, still partially wheezing. i swear i have asthma or something. she smiled wryly over annabeth's shoulder, then waved at grover and percy who stared at them in complete bewilderment. 

annabeth pulled back. "okay. let's go. we gotta hide." but before they could do anything, flames erupted along the side of the wall, following a trail as though it were a waterfall, illuminating the cavernous basement. 

the four of them ran towards the back of the room, occasionally dodging the petrified stone statues. they slowed around a cluster of crates. 

"there's four of us and one of her. if we split up, she can't watch us all at once," grover said. 

"it might not be that simple," annabeth warned. 

"oh, but it kind of is," lyla mused. "wait! grover, you have the... uh... flying shoes? the red converses that clash with what you're wearing?" 

grover grimaced at the last sentence. "yeah, that was what i was thinking—not about the color clashing, but distracting her in the air." 

lyla frowned. "i was thinking more of seeing the colors clash so atrociously that medusa will end up being blinded, but alright. you do you, grover." 

"okay!" grover stuck his tongue out at her. "as soon as you hear me say 'maia!'—" he immediately flew into the air. "oh boy. okay. um... off! down!" she heard a shriek in the distance as grover flew away. 

there goes the goat! 

"so," lyla turned to look at annabeth and percy. "we're gonna need a new plan." 

annabeth was about to say something, until an eery voice echoed across the room. 

"we are not our parents, until we choose to be. you three have chosen.

"a daughter of a self-righteous mother, who chose self-righteousness for herself. 

"a daughter of a vindictive and manipulative vixen overcome by vanity and petty jealousies...

"and you, you could have shown your father what it means to stand up for someone you love." 

lyla heard medusa's footsteps approach, and she squeezed her eyes shut. 

"but lyla... you could have proven to everyone your true potential—we both know what you can do if you wish to do so, but you seem perfectly content to be watered down to fit in a box and do the gods' bidding. if neither of you will help teach these lessons, then perhaps you should be the lessons." the snakes in her hair hissed, as though to prove her point.

"when i ship your statues to olympus... maybe that will get my point across even better." each syllable dripped with fury and condescension. 

"stand up." 

lyla felt as if someone was wrapping a vice around her chest tighter until she could hardly breathe or hear through her pounding heartbeat. she clapped a hand over her mouth, feeling certain that she was about to be sick.