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The last thing they remembered was chaos.

A flash of blinding light. A strange pull that seemed to rip through reality itself. The cries of gods and mortals alike swallowed by a force none of them could understand.

Then—

Silence.

A forest.

Towering trees unlike any they had seen before surrounded them. The air felt different. The scents were unfamiliar. Even the sky seemed wrong somehow.

Odysseus was the first to break the silence.

"What trickery is this?"

Athena's eyes narrowed as she surveyed their surroundings. "No realm known to Olympus."

Hermes spun on his heel, a grin plastered across his face despite the situation. "Well, this is exciting."

"It is not exciting," Eurylochus snapped. "We're lost."

Poseidon crossed his arms, clearly unimpressed. "Who dares remove me from my domain?"

Zeus remained silent, though the storm brewing in his gaze suggested his patience was limited.

Apollo tilted his head toward the distance.

"...Do you hear that?"

Everyone froze.

A voice.

Singing.

Not chanting. Not praying.

Singing.

Curious, the group followed the sound through the forest until they reached a clearing.

There, kneeling beside some strange metal contraption with two circular wheels, was a person. The object appeared damaged, and they seemed completely focused on trying to repair it.

Hermes blinked.

"What in the world is that thing?"

"No creature I've ever seen rides such a contraption," Circe murmured.

Odysseus cautiously stepped forward—

Then stopped.

The song became clearer.

A familiar melody.

A familiar story.

His story.

Athena's eyes widened.

Apollo nearly choked.

Hermes stared.

Eurylochus looked utterly horrified.

Poseidon's jaw dropped.

Even Zeus seemed caught off guard.

Because the stranger wasn't merely singing.

They were singing about them.

About Odysseus.

About Ithaca.

About monsters.

About gods.

About events that should have been known only to those who lived them.

The group exchanged stunned looks.

"...Impossible," Athena whispered.

Odysseus stared at the stranger, unable to look away.

How could this person know their story?

And why were they singing it so casually while repairing whatever that strange wheeled machine was?

A twig snapped beneath someone's foot.

The singing stopped.

The stranger looked up.

Eight pairs of eyes stared back.

For a moment, nobody spoke.

Then Hermes slowly raised a hand and pointed toward them.

"...Odysseus?"

"Yes?"

"I think we'

re in trouble."

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