Chapter 40: Chapter 40

S Ø R E N

WHEN SØREN WALKED back into the apartment building lobby, he was rather taken aback at how packed it was.

He had to push and shove his way through to get to the front, where he spotted Nadine and Lewis standing at the announcement podium.

“…We need to band together!” Nadine was saying. “Not really for the sake of Savannah —but for all of our lives,” she elaborated. “She may be trying to convince the gods to leave us alone, but we should know better. The gods don’t just change their minds. We must prepare for war!”

A surprisingly large amount of cheers rang out in agreement. Søren started, and then finally stumbled into Melchior, who also happened to be at the front. Abigail turned at the same instance and squealed excitedly.

“Oh, you’re back,” Melchior quipped, catching hold of Søren’s arm and preventing him from falling over. “…Where’s the gremlin?”

“Gremlin?” Abigail echoed, furrowing her eyebrows. “It’s been like, a week if anything since I saw you. Who in the world are you talking about?”

The Trainer scoffed and straightened his jacket as he shook off Melchior’s hand. “Don’t call Savannah a gremlin,” he clipped. Then he quickly answered the question. “She’s gone to Mount Olympus with Hades. She’s going to try and change Horkos’ mind.”

The lobby suddenly fell silent around them.

They glanced around at everyone’s blank stares. Søren supposed that was startling news. Nadine coughed loudly and redirected the attention.

“Søren,” she said slowly, looking at him with a panicked expression on her face. “What the hell are you talking about?”

The Trainer sighed and walked up to the podium, before shoving her out of the way. He cleared his throat and proceeded to fill everyone in. “Savannah has gone to Mount Olympus to reason with Horkos. She believes that this is the right thing to do. She doesn’t want to render the Organisation expendable. She wants to try avoiding physical conflict like…last time.”

There were some hushed murmurs.

“She’s trying to change the rules so that others like her can exist,” Søren elaborated. “Right now, there’s a treaty created by the Olympian gods to eradicate all half-blood god offspring. Savannah doesn’t see the point of that, as well as living in fear of what half-bloods can do.”

Someone then raised their hand. It was a cocky trainee in a red leather jacket with a jagged dagger twirling in between his fingers. Søren could not actually tell that he was recently Turned simply by looking —but rather by how the Reaper was attempting to question his word.

No fellow Trainer or fully-fledged Reaper would dare to do that.

“Have you seen any other half-blood god besides this Savannah chick?” he asked. “Because her powers may be pathetic enough for her not to pose a threat, but it doesn’t mean that all half-bloods and any in the future aren’t dangerous. Why do you think the treaty was made in the first place?”

Søren clenched his fists and frowned as the murmuring grew louder. “What is your name?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Kyle,” the Reaper sighed, rolling his smoky quartz eyes. “Why won’t you answer my question?”

Søren stuck his nose in the air and glowered at him. “Well, Kyle,” he drawled. “No, I have not. You know why? Because they’re all dead. And do you actually think the gods waited long enough to assess how dangerous a half-blood god was? They probably didn’t let them live past thirteen.”

Kyle scoffed as the Trainer’s rebuttal seemed to gain back some favour.

“…Why do you care, anyway?” Søren then asked. “It’s of no consequence to you if Savannah isn’t exactly successful.” He was not saying that in any way hopefully —he was only trying to get a reaction from the trainee.

Kyle did not turn a single hair. Then he glanced down and shuffled from foot to foot. “…I knew a half-blood god,” he surprisingly admitted, frowning and looking back at Søren. “And she did not deserve to die. I just think…what can this Savannah do?” he deadpanned.

Søren paused, feeling a little guilty. He had not expected that loaded answer. “I understand. No, she did not deserve to die. But think about it —do any of them?” he pressed on. “And…you would be surprised by what Savannah can do,” the Trainer smiled knowingly.

Kyle did not return the smile, but he did not ask any more questions.

“So, what do we do now?” someone else in the front then asked.

“I’ve been given instructions to assemble backup for Savannah in case things don’t go according to plan,” Søren answered. “So, I’ll need a team who is willing to go to Mount Olympus for an emergency.”

He waited.

No one volunteered.

Everyone lowered their gazes and avoided making eye contact with him, while shuffling around awkwardly. Søren sighed, waiting for the excuses to start. Then he realised that he did not have time for that.

It disappointed him to a degree that no one was willing to help. He understood that no one really knew her anyway, so they did not need to feel obligated to do her or him, a favour. After all, Reapers were not known for their selflessness —or lack thereof. More than that, though —who would willingly walk into the palace of the gods?

“Fine,” Søren said flatly. “No one has to come with me. I’ll be the only backup. Because it seems that I’m the only one who cares that Savannah might be trying to save all of your ungrateful sorry asses right now.”

He then stepped down and stormed off towards the door that led to the stairs, unwilling to awkwardly stand in the elevator that faced the lobby.

He did not regret giving the Reapers a piece of his mind. They were all a bunch of pretty sad excuses for human beings —figuratively speaking —so even expecting at least one or two volunteers was expecting too much.

As Søren got to his floor, he asked himself an important question. If he had not known Savannah and gone through an emotionally changing journey because of her, would he have stepped up for her?

It hurt that he hesitated to answer.

And it hurt more to know that he would not have.

So maybe he had been a bit of a hypocrite. It was not as if he was going to march all the way back down and apologise.

No one else would in his position. And that made him feel worse.

Søren was tempted to just crumple and fall down against the wall, contemplating what made him any better than the Reapers downstairs.

But he did not have time for self-pity.

He got over it and stomped to his door. After unlocking it he barged inside, momentarily cursed at the sight of fire extinguisher foam that was still very much there, before making his way to the computer room.

Phee-Phee was surprisingly —or maybe not so surprisingly at this point —still there, but now asleep and not on fire, curled up on the side table and glowing in time with his breathing pattern.

Perhaps Søren could bring him along.

The Reaper then realised that he actually did need him for something else, given the unpredictability of the foam damage, so he cautiously made his way to its side and gently poked the bird with his crossbow. It took a few more tries but it finally stirred and uncurled, spreading and igniting its fiery wings. One of its red eyes honed in on the Reaper and its pupil contracted rapidly before Phee-Phee stood up and turned away from him.

“Yeah, I know you don’t like me,” Søren grumbled. The Phoenix made a sound that resembled scoffing. “Okay, I’m sorry for trying to shoot you and chase you out. You’re not so bad. I should have listened to Savannah.”

Phee-Phee perked up at the sound of Savannah’s name and then hopped around as though he were trying to spot her in some obscure corner.

“She’s not here,” Søren said quietly. “She’s gone to do something very important. But…I’m going to need your help.”

Phee-Phee looked at the Trainer with clear disdain.

“Please? It’s important. For Savannah; not for me.”

He almost seemed to relent at that notion, and hopped down from the side table to follow Søren; who then sighed in relief and led them into the computer room. The plan was to send a message to Purgatory for a portal to be opened to the Trainer’s location on Earth. Then he could find a connecting portal which lead to Mount Olympus, and slip in without detection.

All Søren had to do was write the letter for Phee-Phee to send.

If he had been confident in his own Phoenix fire tubes, he still could not risk electrical safety —nor could he risk the letter going to the wrong place. If Phee-Phee sent it, it could hopefully go directly to Nina.

URGENT

Please open a portal to this message's traceable location. Once I have arrived in Purgatory, please have a portal to Mount Olympus ready. This is of utmost importance.

Signed, Trainer Søren of the New York District.

After hastily scribbling down the message Søren waved it in front of Phee-Phee. The Phoenix tilted his head back and breathed fire into the air, prompting the Reaper to toss the paper into the flames. The letter disappeared, before Phee-Phee breathed out the last flame and coughed, screeching loudly in a way Søren knew was just to annoy him.

“Søren!” a sudden shout then came from the living room. The Trainer and Phee-Phee shared a look before he went to the door.

It flew open before he had the chance to put his hand on the handle. Abigail and Melchior stood before him, vaguely pissed off.

“Søren,” Abigail started sympathetically. “What are you doing?”

The Trainer frowned. “What does it look like?” he deadpanned. “I’m trying to create some sort of backup. No thanks to anyone else.”

“But in Mount Olympus?” Melchior interjected. “Where the gods are? It sounds like a trap. No wonder no one volunteered. You really think anyone is stupid enough to go with you?”

Søren gave him a look. “Wow, thanks.”

“That’s not what he meant,” Abigail cut in. “It’s just…no one else wants to risk themselves for an already doomed mission. You’ve got to understand and think about how the other Reapers feel and think. I mean, be honest, would you risk your life for someone you didn’t know?”

Søren clenched his fists, and suddenly found fault with the floor. “I do get it, okay?” he growled. “But I didn’t ask you guys to come back and make me feel like more of a jerk. If you’re just here to make me feel shitty, then please leave. I need to concentrate. Phee-Phee and I are going to help.”

Phee-Phee squawked in agreement.

Abigail eyed the Phoenix wearily and did not seem all that convinced. “We didn’t come here to make you feel bad,” she sighed, glancing at Melchior. “We came here to volunteer.”

There was a beat of silence as Abigail glanced between the two males with a hopeful smile on her face.

“Wait, seriously?” Søren questioned.

“Yeah,” Melchior grumbled. “Turns out we’re stupid enough.”

Søren had just about had enough. “Call me stupid one more time and I’ll ask Phee-Phee to set your hair on fire,” he threatened.

Melchior then raised his hands in surrender but rolled his eyes all the same, mocking him.

“So, you want to help me in case things turn sour?” Søren reiterated Abigail’s offer. “Why the sudden change of heart?”

“It’s not a sudden change,” Abigail corrected him. “When you stormed off, I realised that maybe this is really important to you. And as my friend, I felt that I should support you in your most stubborn times. I brought Melchior along because he’s big, grizzled and strong,” she added, giggling softly.

Melchior gave her a sideways look, and then glanced at Søren; his vibrant garnet eyes dark and emotionally strained.

The Trainer ignored the feeling that they erupted within him.

“Oh…kay,” he said slowly, narrowing his eyes at Abigail, “I’m going to pretend that you didn’t just say that about Melchior, and I’m going to focus on the fact that we’re friends and you’re doing this for me.”

“Fair enough,” Abigail sighed, clasping her hands together. “So…What exactly is happening now?”

“I’m waiting for my message to Purgatory to be received,” he explained. “I requested that we use Thanatos’ portal to get to Mount Olympus.”

Melchior raised an eyebrow. “All right. And how long will it take for that to be confirmed?”

Søren shrugged. “Any time now.”

“Great, we’re working with estimates…” he muttered, leaning against a table and folding his arms. “Might as well get comfortable.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault that the mailing system isn’t better organised,” Søren defended himself. “Besides. We’ve got an hour to kill anyway.”

“What do you mean?” Abigail frowned.

“Savannah told me to bring backup if she wasn’t back after two hours,” the Trainer informed them. “It’s already been one. So, we might not even need to do anything if she comes back before another hour.”

“Seriously?” Abigail scoffed. “You could have told us that sooner.”

“What would it have changed?” Søren deadpanned.

“I don’t know,” she scoffed. “We wouldn’t have rushed —that’s one thing. Now we have time to prepare.”

Søren sighed and sat up on the table next to the main computer monitor. He hoped that Savannah was doing okay. He hoped that she was still alive.

Well…Hades would have come and told them if for whatever reason, she was…gone, would he not? Unless the Olympians had already punished him too. Søren frowned and resisted the urge to panic.

He needed to have some faith.

Maybe Savannah was actually winning an argument right at that moment. Or…maybe not.

But he still trusted her abilities. After all, she changed every person in which she came into contact. There was a slither of a chance she could actually succeed in getting the treaty abolished civilly.

Perhaps she could bring out the humanity in Horkos.

Søren then suddenly started and nearly fell off the table as Phee-Phee shrieked to gain his attention. He frowned, but grew anxious as the Phoenix tilted his head back and breathed fire again. An envelope then landed beside him. Søren hastily opened it and took out the piece of paper.

REPLY

Your request has been received and acknowledged by the CEO's secretary, Nina. She will comply shortly. This may take between fifteen minutes and half an hour. Please be patient.

Reply to: 40.7831°N, 73.9712°W

From: Purgatory HQ

“…It’ll take fifteen minutes to half an hour?” Søren raised his voice, jumping down from the table. “Are they serious?”

“Damn,” Abigail drawled sarcastically. “Whatever happened to that entire hour we had to kill?”

“I put urgent on it, I swear,” the Trainer protested, clearly flustered. “They’re just fucking with me. Surely Nina knows about the situation and can put two and two together?”

“Who’s Nina?” Abigail frowned, along with Melchior.

Right —the two Reapers had yet to encounter the tamed Vampyre.

“Death’s secretary,” Søren filled in. “And she’s pretty quick from what I’ve seen. Whoever replied to my message is an unfeeling little asshole.”

“Calm down, Sør,” Melchior sighed. “There is no point in getting all worked up. It won’t make things faster. All we can do is wait, I guess.”

The dark haired Reaper hesitated and breathed out deeply. “Fine. We’ll wait. But if Savannah ever asks, tell her it wasn’t my fault.”

Melchior flashed a fake smile. “Sure.”

Søren chose to ignore him and sat up on the table again. He really hoped that Savannah would end up not needing a backup team.

Because at rate that things were going, they might get to Mount Olympus when there would be nothing to back up.