CATACLYSM || X-Men

0| I heard it through the grapevine

Ancient Greece, BCE

She didn't remember much from her time as a child. Upon her arrival to the new continent, she had been cared for by a group who were more like family than she knew.

"She's up!"

Her eyes opened to find a boy sat beside her, looking very different from the people she knew. At the sight of nothing familiar—although she wasn't sure how she knew that—she sat up, ignoring the hands that tried to hold her down.

"Hey, hey," a girl rushed into the room, putting a hand onto her forehead, somehow managing the calm her down. She looked down at her hands, the glow of her bright blue veins dimming as the girl's touch made her heart beat slow. "You're all right. You were kind of unconscious when they brought you here."

She didn't know how she understood what they were saying. Did she know them? Had she been here before? All the sounds were so odd, yet just familiar enough to understand their words.

"Who are you? Where am I?"

The glance the two in front of her shared was enough to make her even more confused, as if they knew something she didn't. Why couldn't she remember anything?

"You're in Athens. Greece?" the girl asked, but there was no recognition on the new girl's face. "You were brought here by one of the ships. Do you know your name?" the girl asked.

"No, I— I don't—"

"That's okay, don't worry," the boy spoke up. "You're with people like you," he told her. "We all have weird things," he smiled, lifting a hand, which produced a ball of what appeared to be water, the swirling wave contained in a bubble. The sight calmed her a little, her breathing evening out with the movement of the wave. "They call me Poseidon."

"They?" she asked, looking to the girl.

"The humans seem to think our powers make us extraordinary," the girl nodded. "They worship our powers, or talents, and they call us Gods. We tried to explain at first, but now we're just happy they don't want to kill us for being different," she explained. "I'm Leto."

"Why am I here?"

"One of the groups on one of the ships found you fighting off about a hundred soldiers in North Africa. They saw you shoot off some sparks from your hands, and they say they saved you. But I have a feeling you don't need much saving," another boy stood in the door, leaning against the stone wall. "The humans are calling you Ambrosia."

"Why—"

"You, uh— One of them was injured, and you brought him back from the dead, they said," Poseidon's voice was just lighter, softer, than the other boy's. She liked him better. "They brought you home as an offering to us for your talent."

"I'm an offering?" she asked, confused by the idea.

"Yeah, but lucky for you, we're not hungry," another sound spoke up, two boys standing in the door.

"You're family," the other boy interjected, much more serious. "We're all the same. Different, but the same. All with talents, all with something weird that humans can't yet explain. We stick together up here. We can help you answer any questions, but if we do so, then you'll have to pull your weight."

"You think I want to stay here?"

"We did help you out," the other boy spoke, pushing past the serious one in the door.

"When you were brought in, you were fighting the humans, left and right. You didn't speak any Greek, so I put you to sleep, so that the humans wouldn't hurt you, and Apollo and I made sure you were safe. You speak greek because of Apollo's gift. He's given you knowledge to survive in our community, but he didn't give you anything that would change who you are."