Achilles (PJO/Avengers)

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"Were you trying to read last night?" Alex asked, looking at the book Achilles had left on the coffee table.

"Oh. Yeah."

Alex hummed. "Didn't know you read fiction."

"I haven't actually read it." Achilles said.

Alex raised an eyebrow.

"I... Used to know the author." Achilles said.

Alex nodded. "Well, we should get going."

"The surprise?"

"Indeed."

~~~

"Dubois! Glad you could make it." A cheery Agent greeted them when they made it to his office in the archaeology department. "And who's this?"

"Achilles Bane. And you are?" Achilles asked, shaking the man's hand.

"Thomas Schott." The man answered. "You're a legend."

Achilles shrugged.

"Well, let's show you what we got." Schott said, leading them further into his workspace. "I've managed to keep my research under the big radar. Which gave me the space and time to actually figure out what this thing is."

"And what is it?" Achilles asked.

"A sword." Schott grinned. "A sword with Asgardian blood on it."

Achilles' eyebrows shot up. "An Asgardian weapon?"

"Yeah. With how old it is- Earth wasn't that advanced back then. And the style is very... Off, for that time." Schott said. "Other than that, it's nothing fancy. What makes me curious, besides the obvious things, is why you're interested in it?"

"It's personal." Achilles said. 

Schott narrowed his eyes, before gesturing to a table. "There it is." 

The sword was a grey color, reminiscent of old metal. The blade alone was three feet long, and the center had a line of intricate designs that reminded Achilles of vikings. The hilt was another ten inches, and the guard was also decorated in curling knots. It would have been considered long even for a longsword.

"It's not very impressive. I've done some tests on it, and as weird as it sounds, I don't think it would have been able to actually harm an Asgardian. It's just not tough enough." Schott said. "My guess, it's a religious blade. Something creepy."

No, that didn't seem right to Achilles. For some reason... It just didn't add up. Without really meaning to, he reached forward and grabbed the hilt.

At the same time as Schott sputtered protest, the sword seemed to come alive. Achilles felt the dormant magic wake, shedding layers of dirt and millennia of sleep. The hilt and guard turned to gold, the runes and designs gaining even more detail. Achilles couldn't tell what the metal of the blade was, as it glowed like fire. Flames seemed to dance around, wispy and ghost-like, gleaming in shades of red and gold.

Schott and Alex jumped back in surprise. Achilles didn't move at all, overwhelmed by the magic that he felt from the blade.

"What the hell-"

"Eugene?"

Achilles stared at the blade. He managed to push away the daze. By then he felt a tickle at his nose that usually accompanied the Mist when it's intervention became active.

Achilles looked over at Schott, and used the Mist. "Someone made a mistake. You only found a piece of old metal." Schott's eyes glazed over.

Achilles set the blade down, and when it wasn't in contact with the Devourer, the flames faded away, leaving the metal of the blade looking white. Achilles took a second, and managed to find a long piece of cloth, and wrapped the blade in it. Achilles looked back at the two mortals.