Enlightened

Summary:

A man dies and is reborn as Apollo, the god of archery, music, healing, diseases, the Sun and light, poetry, and prophecy. What's a man turned God to do? | SI/OC Fanfic, OP!Literally-A-God!SI | Warnings Listed Within

Author's Note-

Italic text is used to emphasize things. I.e., Oh fuck.

Bold text is used for Godly speech. I.e., Die mortal.

(….) indicate pauses between scenes in the same sequence.

(Scene Break) shows transitions between entirely different sequences.

The perspective will be indicated with _ _'s POV.

Another warning: this is Greek mythology, and as such, will include Zeus, Hera, and the rest of the gods. This includes everything they do. There will be sex, death, and maybe incest. When in Rome, or this case Greece, do as the Romans do, as they say. Also, this is a SI/OC fin, meaning it's not me who is in this story, so to speak, but it's my mentality and reasoning. If this character's actions bother you, even in this first chapter, go ahead and stop reading.

Chapter 1:

SI's POV

Each breath comes slowly and painfully, each desperate gasp of air igniting my lungs. I'm injured. Grievously. From what feels like a car sitting on my torso, to what little I can sense of my limbs, I'm pretty sure that whatever help that'll come will be hours, minutes, maybe even seconds too late, depending on just how severe the crash was and how quickly the emergency services were dispatched. That, combined the blood with the blood I can suddenly feel flowing out of me, spells the death of me. Still, even horrendously wounded, my body begins to acclimate to the pain after what seems like hours, my memories of how exactly I had landed in this position slowly began to return to me, cohesive thoughts quick to fill my mind once more.

The first real thought to truly surface is an inquiry into what had happened, and the answer to my question came quickly enough. A car crash was what had done me in. A drunk driver at that. How sad. Some drunk truck driver had decided that a quicker ride home was worth risking not only his life but mine too. Acid-like rage begins to creep up my veins, both at the fuckhead that decided that crashing his truck into my car was a good idea and at my utter inability to do anything but lay here uselessly, bleeding out all the while. I try to shift my arm, forgetting momentarily where exactly I am, and paying for my forgetfulness. The entire wreckage above me seems to shift in place for a moment before deciding to just drop itself on me. How lucky for me that my crush arm was the pillar upon which a car weight about a ton rested. The massive piece of metal came to a rest just about an inch lower than it had been before, still crushing my broken arm but also now squashing what little breath I had out of my lungs. In addition to that, my arm had suddenly decided that now was a good time to be able to feel pain again, and I suffered for my mistake, agony racing up from my arm to my torso, and straight into the pain receptors in my brain.

Eventually, the agony receded slightly, and the gradually fading pain allows me to contemplate my situation—a car crash. I'd always hoped to either go out in a blaze of glory or die peacefully on my deathbed. I hadn't even had time to reach 25 years on Earth before I was going to kick the bucket. At the same time, I let go of the rage I'd been trying to bottle up. There was honestly no use in trying to get myself angry because I was about to die, and anger wasn't about to help me. Still, as the rage left, a tinge of annoyance remained, though a bone-chilling weariness had replaced the majority of my passion. A second passes, and I sigh before letting the cold pragmatist in me do his work.

I was dying, no if, and, or but about it. It was a cold hard fact, and I'd be long gone before the ambulances arrived. My left arm was utterly crushed, and even from what little I could turn my head, I knew my right arm was useless, being burdened with the substantial chunk of metal shrapnel deep within it. My legs... I couldn't feel my legs. Whether that was good or not, I didn't know; they were either wholly paralyzed from injury or just numb. Either way, my legs were useless, and the less said about their condition, the better. My upper body was a mess. It had taken most of the damage when the crash had caused something to explode and sent deadly shards of metal everywhere. I could feel a sense of something cold and hard somewhere in my stomach, but I couldn't tell where exactly. The area was far too numb to allow me to know just by feeling, and I couldn't move my arms and check, but it was best to assume the injury was likely fatal if slow-acting, regardless. The pragmatist came to the conclusion that I was dead, deader, and doomed, and frankly, I was inclined to agree with him.

The both of us are in agreement at that moment when I shrug my shoulders, as best a man trapped under about a two thousand pounds of a car on top of him and dying can shrug, and resigned myself to whatever would come after I passed. It was a strange situation that I had ended up in, where I could rationalize my death and be content that I had rationalized correctly. Another few seconds pass, and I can feel my body beginning to go even colder, the ever-increasing lack of blood and the looming specter of death working in unison to chill the scarce air around me.

Ironically enough, as those few seconds pass me by, I am more acutely aware of my body and what exactly it' 's doing. I can feel my lungs slowly inflate and deflate as they struggle to process what little oxygen I'm receiving; I can feel every beat of my heart coming slower and slower as it struggles to cope with the loss of that vital fluid, and, most importantly, I can feel my brain beginning to slow and coming to accept the fact that it is here, in this location, that I'm going to perish, leaving behind a cold empty shell of a body. It's quiet, at least, so all that there to see me off are my fading thoughts and my broken body. A rather sad and inglorious end. With that final thought, the last of my energy slips out of my system, and I can feel my body begin to die. It's a strange sensation, feeling the shutdown of all my bodily functions. Then as I draw breath for one last time, and my faithful lungs finally give up, I die. Alone, buried under two thousand pounds of metal, and far away from any family or relatives that I'd want to wish farewell to.

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Scene Break

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I regain awareness slowly, my consciousness remembering itself as I wake. I'm laying down on my back, face-up. I push myself up from the ground and glance around me. The space around me is an inky black and doesn't let me see very far at all. I'd been floating above the void, suspended by some strange force. But, as my brain reminds me, that's not the most important thing. The fact that I'm not dead should have been the first thing that caught my attention. The fact that I was still in possession of a physical body was strange, because far as I was aware, my body had died underneath that car, so it was somewhat baffling that it was still unharmed.

Putting that aside, though, I can only assume that I'm in some sort of afterlife, or some kind of in-between place. For some reason, I'd been pulled from Earth right as I'd died and been restored to full health. Was some God going to come down and announce that I'd been chosen to be reincarnated because I'd been killed on accident? Despite the ridiculousness of the idea, I still wait for a bit in the off-chance that my theory is correct—a minute or two passes before I decide to call out.

"...," I say, "..."

….only for no sound to escape my mouth, although I can feel my throat moving to try and vocalize the words. I frown and try to speak this time, only for the same thing to happen again. I sigh, even though it makes no sound, just as I realize that the void I'm in is completely silent; absolutely no noise is hitting my ears, and my brain had decided that that was strange. It was, and I was left standing there trying to contemplate the fact that I'd found myself gagged, virtually deaf, and nearly blind. I couldn't see, there was no sound for my ears to hear, and I couldn't see much father that about three inches in front of me. It's a good thing that my thoughts remain sacred at least because if I couldn't even make noise mentally, I'd have gone mental right then and there.

….

I've begun to hold conversations with myself mentally; it's all I can do to stave off boredom. With the silence so pervasive, though, even my thoughts ring louder than usual. I'm not sure if it's just my brain subconsciously trying to fill up the silence with mental noise, but it's not working. If anything, it's going to just annoy me intensely.

….

Is this how someone develops split-personality disorder? Just doing nothing but talking to themselves all the time in a different voice, trying to speak in different thoughts until the view takes root in their psyche? Because if it is, I'm developing a split personality disorder. I've decided to call him the 'apathetic' voice, for lack of a better word. He's the one that judges everything on value and benefits instead of something useless like emotion. I, of course, am the voice of passion and empathy to the ethics questions I've begun to ask myself. I've been here for a long time, as far as I can tell. Maybe for at least half a year by standard time. I can remember talking for hours about any number of things, and I can recall myself doing it multiple times. There's not a way to accurately keep track, nor am I willing to count every second to try and calculate how long I've been here.

….

This place is draining. Not just mentally, because it's that too, but emotionally as well. Even if I'm the one arguing the empathy points in my conversations, I can feel my emotions getting number and more distant, and I know this place is doing it. The quiet just seems to pick at my mind, telling me, 'What use are emotions? You're stuck here forever anyway, might as well make it hurt less.' That might be true, but even so, I'm going to ignore it. If I ever do leave this place, I'm going to leave as me.

….

'Why am I even here, anyway?'

The inquiry comes suddenly, unexpectedly and catches me off guard for a moment before I begin to contemplate the question. I can't leave the place, so maybe it's a prison? Unlikely, as I can't think of any particularly heinous, or indeed any, crimes that I could have committed to being jailed for eternity, but possible. It is some sort of afterlife, that's for sure, but it's not heaven, hell, or any variation of an afterlife that I know of. Maybe this is where people go when they die then? Do they just drift in a big empty void and chill for the rest of all time? That's also possible, and from what I can tell, much more likely to be true. Either way, it's better than merely dying and nothing happening after.

….

I'm trying to think up another way to entertain myself when I go blind. Or at least it feels like I go blind. As I struggle to comprehend what just happened, I realize that I'm seeing light for the first time in what feels like years. Before I can investigate what's happening, the light intensifies and begins to burn itself into my mind. As the light starts to glow more and more intensely, my mind begins to struggle to stay afloat before the sheer power of the brightness. I collapse, and dimly, I can feel myself being drawn out of my body and into the light.

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Scene Break

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SI's (Apollo's) POV

When I wake up, I can immediately tell that I'm somewhere new. Wherever that burst of light had dragged me, at least it had the courtesy to bring me somewhere warm. The sensation of being warm seems unfamiliar, my mind confused at a feeling it hadn't felt for years before being brought here. I try to open my eyes, but they seem welded shut. I know that they're there, can feel they moving under my eyelids, but can't seem to force them open, my body refusing my demands for it to obey me. My body suddenly feels unfamiliar. I can tell it's too small, even with my eyes welded shut, and my body is curled in upon itself.

The space around me feels strange, almost liquid-like, and seems to flow around me and suspend me in place. A peculiar thumping sound echoes from above me, and the feeling rings through my body. It sounds like a heartbeat. My liquid surroundings, the heartbeat, pulse, and my shrunken body combine swiftly to lead me to the obvious conclusion. I was a baby, not even out the womb yet, and already fully aware of where I was. How long did pregnancies last again? If this was going to take as long as I thought it was, I was in for a tough few months.

This means that I'm alive again, at least, so that's nice. That also means that I'm going to be stuck in this womb for who knows how long, and that's going to be an absolute joy. Almost as if to stop me from continuing to complain, I'm slammed into the wall of the womb by a violent movement from my new mother. It's painless, thankfully, but it does snap my attention away from my introspection and bring my thoughts onto the topic of my unique situation. I don't think I can act like a normal child, I'm much too far away from my childhood to remember what to do, and those years I've sent in the void have sapped me of all my will to even try. Another rapid movement, this time in what feels like a flip, causes me to spin around in the womb and careen into another body.

I have a sibling now? No, more importantly, what kind of person decides to go cartwheeling when pregnant with twins?! Doesn't she know that'd bad for a baby? What the hell was she doing?! At the surge of anger, something seems to snap on in my head, and all of a sudden, I can see. Not merely through my eyes, but both inside and out of the womb and further into my current surroundings. The rush of raw information is abrupt and painful, as the knowledge of everything within a ten-foot radius is crammed into my head. I can describe the exact texture of the pebble three feet from my mother's left foot, the precise shade of green that the leaves on all the trees surrounding me are, and the massive snake that is about to swallow my new mother.

My brain manages to chew through the information at a supernatural rate, processing it all under a second and relegating the rest of the information, which is still flooding through my mind into a subconscious process. My subconsciousness has already processed this before my conscious mind can realize what's going on. Despite this, however, my conscious brain does pick out the abnormality from the rest of my surroundings. The giant snake that's about to eat my new mom, before I've can even register what she looks like, snaps forward and lunges at my mother. With supernatural instinct of her own, she kicks off the ground with enough force to crater it, lands half-way into a roll, and is already on her feet before the serpent can close its' jaws around her. It's a jaw-dropping display, especially for a pregnant woman, that's slightly diminished by the fact that I have to experience each turn. It's not nauseating like it would have been before my rebirth but only somewhat uncomfortable.

The game of snake and woman continues for several more hours, the woman displaying a supernatural level of endurance, speed, and reflex while the reptile shows a startling amount of intelligence and an annoying level of persistence. The back and forth continues until the snake seems to tire of the game and slithers off to do snake things while the woman simply keeps moving, only stopping for a brief sip of water before bolting out of the forest and further away from the snake.

After running for about an hour, she makes it onto some sort of grasslands before beginning to slow down and take a breath. As she begins to come to a halt, I decide that now is an excellent time to take a break and let my consciousness collapse back into my small body and fall asleep.

….

When I wake up this time, all is quiet. There's no snake within the range of my new sixth sense, though it's range doesn't extend very far in the first place, and my new mother is walking along a road at a calm pace, not sprinting or dashing around like she'd been doing to avoid the snake. I take the moment of silence gratefully, deciding to use the time to process my current predicament. I've been reborn, that's pretty clear at the point. All that's left is figuring out where and when I am and the clues I've been provided with made that seem relatively obvious. The giant snake and the superhuman woman should have clued me in, but it seems evident that I'm in the wondrous world of Greek mythology. My new mother is Leto, the mother of Artemis and Apollo, and the massive snake is Python. It's just unfortunate that I've woken up during Leto's journey across the world to find Delos and not during the actual birthing process. I'm stuck in Leto's womb until I'm actually born, but I can project my consciousness out of my body in some sort of astral projection technique.

I'd have questioned where I'd gotten the power to do this if I hadn't already taken notice of the abnormal energy coursing throughout my body during the brief periods of introspection I'd been able to have. It's a heady sensation that this new energy gives me, and suddenly, I can understand the actions of quite a few Gods if this is the type of power that flows through them daily. I shift my thoughts away from the allure of the power and focus on the energy itself. It's present in what seems like every cell of my being, empowering them to superhuman levels. I can only assume that this is the divine energy that Gods use to pull off their Godly deeds. My energy is golden and warm, but chaotic and shining with the intensity of the Sun. This was my birthright, this Godly power belonging not to Apollo, but for me, the amalgamation of a divine being and a mortal soul. Despite it's might, however, I can feel Leto's energy smothering mine, my power dwarfed in both size and potency by her age and experience and by the fact that I'm literally inside her. That might be a reason. In comparison, I can feel my new sibling's power as well, cold and intense, though barely a smidgen compared to both mine and Leto's but still strong none-the-less. Now done with my appraisal of where I stand in terms of power, I tune back in the external situation.

Leto's still moving at the same pace as before, slightly relaxed but always alert due to the threat of Python. I use this moment to observe her appearance again, having not been able to retain it the first time I'd seen it upon activating my sixth sense. The first thing I notice is her hair. It's blond, colored with such a shade of yellow that her strands of hair seem like actual woven gold. The rest of her body is equally well-off, bearing the appearance of a toned athlete at the top of their game. Her skin is bronze and tanned from her recent, read months-long, exertion and has a healthy glow to it that upon closer inspection, actually seems to be a byproduct of the divine power flowing through her veins. Her body ascribes to the hourglass figure, with hips a touch larger than average and breasts just this side of large. All in all, it's a fitting appearance for the Titaness of Motherhood and Demurity and the Protector of the Young. Interestingly enough, I can't feel any sexual urges toward her, maybe as a result as being related to her or perhaps by simple virtue of not being old enough to produce those hormones yet, despite my mind categorizing her as extraordinarily attractive, divine in beauty and presence.

….

I've decided to just refer to her, Leto, as mother/mom and Artemis, my new sister, as just my sister. As cold as it was, there was no point in trying to differentiate between my old life and new life. They were simply too far apart, both in time and probably dimension, to be concerned about trying to see them again.

I'll miss you, mom, dad, sister, grandpa, and grandma. If you ever even exist in this dimension, I'll look out for you as the God of the Sun, Apollo.

….

This whole affair of the Python chasing Leto is a nerve-wracking affair. I'm awake, intellectually, that Leto survives the ordeal and makes it safely to Delos, if a little haggard, but I'm still nervous because of the simple fact that if my new mom dies, I die as well. To acknowledge a fair point, Gods and Titans can't die but simply reform sometime after being defeated (with some exceptions). I'm unsure if Artemis or I can handle being slain when we are so young without a good concept of our existence, though. Leto will reform, and I might, though my mother doesn't know that. Artemis, my unborn sister, will simply fade into nonexistence after dying. Leto seems to be aware of this, for why else would she try so hard to evade Python, but if she's aware of this, Hera is as well.

Damn, does Hera actually want to kill us? She knows she can't kill Leto because she'll just reform, but we, the original Apollo and Artemis, are meant to be unborn, infant Gods. We won't reform because we have no idea how to, nor are we meant to be self-aware yet. If Artemis, and maybe me, die, we'll just straight up die and disappear without a chance to resurrect ourselves. Holy hell, she really wants us dead, doesn't she? What'd we do to end up on her shit-list? Just by being one of Zeus's bastards? In all honestly, that'd be quite a big problem down the line, if Hera decided that I was an actual threat and tried to sabotage me from behind the scenes. I'd need a way to deal with her in the future, either by befriending or blackmailing her. Killing her was off the table, and when she reformed, I'd be in some deep trouble assuming I'd even get away with murder in the first place. Even so, I couldn't exactly do anything while I was still incubating in the womb, so I simply decided to shelve the matter until it was relevant again. In the meantime, I'd have my hands full, trying to figure out a way to make sure that Leto definitely didn't die and take me with her. The longer she lived, the larger a chance I'd have of living until my birth. (And wasn't that a strange thought?)

….

I began trying to see if I could conjure up some plan to keep my mother safe until she was safely on Delos and could give birth. I was Apollo now, so there could surely be something that I could do with all this divine power flowing through my veins. As far as I knew, I, the original Apollo, was worshiped as a God of the Sun, archery, art, light, music, poetry, healing, plagues, truth, and prophecy. Though the majority of that selection was useless, I could make do with the few that seemed to hold potential among that very diverse portfolio. Archery, art, music, and poetry were flops because I couldn't exactly do any of them without a voice to sing with nor hands to work with. They, along with plagues, truth, prophecy, would hold great potential in the future but weren't any good immediately. That left me with healing, the Sun, and light to try and work a makeshift plan out of.

At the most basic, healing could be used to aid her flagging stamina and endurance and grant her an extra boost to haul herself out of trouble for a bit of time. Still, that option would quickly become invalid the more she began to rely on it to extend her stamina. Better for it to serve as a quick burst of free strength than a crutch to lean upon. It'd be more comfortable in the short term, yes, but I have no clue how far along she is in this journey, and if she began to rely on it, chances were that I'd grow gradually more and more tired as I was forced to heal her back up to a functional status continually. On a more sophisticated level, the Sun and light could prove to be literal life-savers if used correctly. After all, light is a vital thing that plants need to grow, wasn't it? And wasn't the Sun essential for life on Earth to exist? The sheer potential of these powers made me giddy, and I was dead certain that I was only tapping the surface of the potential these abilities held. I had the beginnings of a potent plan now, and all I had to do was put it into action.

….

I was attempting to think up more ways of aiding my mother when I felt a large sum of power simply up and vanish from my core and dive into Leto. My once full reserves had dropped down to less than about ten percent in the space of a second, and the suddenness of the action took me by surprise. I didn't actually react beyond a little thought that I might have just fucked up big-time. Maybe. Just a tad. That's all I managed to get out though before I blackout from the sudden backlash from the power I'd been relying on to stay functional disappeared.

….

I wake up quickly, spiritual projection snapping out of my body before my physical one could even do so much as twitch. What I don't notice is how smooth the transition is, the previous issue of having to move slightly sluggishly through my mother's divine aura, completely gone. Though easy enough before due to how closely connected we were, meaning I was quite literally inside her, I went utterly unimpeded this time. The result was a nearly solid image of me, Apollo, in his pre-teen years and aged around twelve to thirteen, landing beside Leto, who'd begun to kneel and was about to take a sip of water. The moment the projection became fully corporeal, I found myself standing in its spot, looking through real eyes and feeling through real limbs.

To her credit, the moment Leto sensed my presence, likely the sheer amount of divinity I'd accidentally pushed into the surprise clone, she'd jumped back from the river, one palm facing me and the other hovering protectively above her stomach. She paused the moment she set her eyes on me and seemed to drop her guard unconsciously.

She spoke to me, "Oh! Little one, are you alright?"

I failed to answer her question, too addled by the sudden transition and the sensation of actual sensation to react much beyond a few incoherent mumbles. She frowned and moved closer to me. Her presence seemed to magnify itself; it's power doubling in the few quick steps she'd taken to move toward me. Her face seemed to engrave itself in my mind as I watched it crease in worry and step closer once more, the concern evident from her body posture. It was endearing, to the small corner of my mind that was still functioning, and simultaneously captivating. I realized at that moment why Zeus had decided to bed her before even marrying Hera, and it was that she was stunning in the way that only concerned mothers can be, fierce concern flitting across her face. ...Oh God, I had just developed an Oedipus complex, hadn't I? That...would complicated things. Oops. I'd just have to deal with that later.

The realization stunned me and scrambled my head even more, but this time I'd managed to choke out a few words.

"What the-," the confused expression passing through my lips without permission, "Mother?"

At my words, her gaze snapped to her stomach before darting back up to me, seeming to feel the need to reaffirm my energy signature, which I'd made no effort to hide since I'd become aware of myself. I'd had no clue that I could even conceal my then-rampant powers, and by the time I'd discovered how it'd been much too late and trying to hide, it would have only worried Leto more. My signature had flared since I'd become aware of my new-found divinity, and if it disappeared, Leto would've likely thought that I'd died somehow. That would've been bad.

Her gaze seemed shaken, and her voice wavered as she spoke, "Apollo? My son, is that you?"

Oh! She had names for us before we were even born. That's actually really sweet.

Physically, I can only manage a jerky nod and a mumbled confirmation before I blackout again and begin to fall towards the ground. Leto catches me, bless her soul, but it occurs to me that this is becoming a rather inconvenient habit.

….

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Scene Break

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Leto's POV

As she lay her child on the ground, she smiled gently down at him. Her Apollo was going to be an amazing God, ascending to greater heights than even the Olympians themselves by the time he was fully grown, and she'd watch him every step of the way. As she watched over him as he was sleeping, her thoughts began to drift, and she remembered how she had come to be here, to begin with.

….

She'd been half-asleep, still walking across yet another grasslands in the vain hope of escaping from Hera's pet snake. She'd long ago learned to keep moving, even when trying to sleep and learned how to sleepwalk, to set her feet in one direction and keep on running even when her conscious mind was absent. As she drifted off further, she began to think about the King of Gods once more and as usual, thinking about the King of Gods left a bitter taste in her mouth, a strange mixture of anger over him leaving her while she was pregnant with his children, sorrow that stemmed from the realization that'd she'd been abandoned, the melancholy that emerged from her loneliness, and disgust at herself for falling for his womanizing ways. She'd been sinking further and further into sorrow and had nearly decided to simply drop down and rest and throw everything to the wind to catch a wink of sleep. As her knees began to tire, seeming to sense her will depleting, she contemplated her situation. She was stuck here, wandering the mortal world because jealous Hera had cursed her to be unable to give birth on land, nor at any island that connected to the Earth, nor anywhere under the light of the Sun. Nowhere on Gaia's body would she be able to bear her children. A cruel punishment, considering she was pregnant with not one, but two children, both infant Gods. This cruelty was made a death sentence when Hera had set Python upon her, Gaia's son consistently following her like a wolf would hunt his prey. It was fortunate he was not more intelligent nor more crafty, for she was already being pushed to her limits as it was. She was no warrior Goddess, and though she was competent at the bow, she could do little but flee from the serpent for fear that any injury she took would prove fatal to her unborn children and cause them to fade before they even lived. They were infant Gods, unaware of their importance and holding no ego, no sense of self with which they could re-consolidate themselves. Exhaustion had overtaken her in both mind and body, and though she could feel the Earth tremble, she could do little but whimper in place, worn down well and truly by Hera's anger. That had changed just as Python had made to take a chunk out of her, and she had felt an energetic swirl of warm energy rush through her, energizing her body and revitalizing her tired thoughts.

The burst of power had coursed through her, filled every corner of her being, and then settled securely deep within her chest, continuing to fortify her will passively. The darkness of her thoughts fled before the light that this new power held, and she could think clearly once more. By chance, the burst of energy had shattered a curse upon her that had been placed upon her by the Queen of the Gods, an insidious spell that incrementally drained her of her resolve. Already no god, nymph, dryad, or mortal would aid her for fear of Hera's wrath, but this was unacceptable. Hera would pay. Rage had filled her in a fit of passion at Hera's treachery, and Leto felt the new power in her chest respond to her emotion. Leto felt it call to her, and she followed its' suggestion, raising her voice and cursing at the creature, commanding the snake to begone.

At her words, her newly gained power began to sing, flowing out of her and condensing before her eyes. Then before she could blink, the ball of energy straightened into a thin line and shot forward, slamming into Python's scaled chest and piercing it like all that was there was empty air. The central portion of the serpent instantly vanished, leaving a hole surrounded by charred flesh nearly ten feet across. Leto's jaw dropped open, but Python seemed more surprised, considering the gaping hole in its chest. It wasn't immediately fatal and could be healed given time, but another beam of condensed light would spell the creature's end. The problem was that Leto felt like she couldn't manage another one, the energy that had been coursing through her receding but not leaving, going dormant within her system. It felt like a feral wolf, sleeping within her soul, dangerous to all but those it considered allies. The Python seemed to realize this too and making to escape, unsure if Leto could unleash another blast but using its limited intelligence to deem his opponent too dangerous to engage with. The massive snake dived into the Earth, the ground parting like water before it and fled with its' tail within its' metaphorical legs.

Leto dropped to the ground, this time in tired victory and not defeated sorrow and began to laugh, a light, tinkling sound with just a touch of hysteria behind it. She was entirely justified, in her opinion, considering what she'd only just been subjected too and what she'd just done. Now more calm and not depressed, she found her new-found ability to match her son's divinity, his power somehow integrating itself into her very being. The only way that that could be possible was through a God's full blessing, the voluntary giving of a small part of a divine soul to another being. It was difficult for even a fully-fledged adult Titan, or God. For an infant god to do so was impossible, against the grain even for a deity, and yet the proof was in front of her. She had been in a bad place mentally, not just a few moments ago, but her son's burst of power had snapped her out of it, saving her life. As her thoughts drifted back to her son, she remembered the rush of strength that had come with the blessing, which in turn reminded her about her son himself. Who was an infant and had just granted her a full blessing, a taxing ordeal even for elder gods. Her eyes went wide, and her breath quickened, desperately searching for her son's signature, praying to whoever answered the prayers of the divine that her child was safe.

As she passed her palm over her stomach, she scanned for any trace of her Apollo's energy, and what little she found in her belly filled her with a dreadful fear. Then, she remembered that Apollo wasn't at full power and began to search not for a massive reserve of energy but for a small concentrated well that told her that her son was healthy, though unconscious and asleep. She'd forgotten that her son was weakened in her moment of panic, being too used to the steady warmth that she could feel every time she monitored his power.

She verbalized a sigh of relief as she watched him and forced herself up in search of a place to bath and scavenge some food. Python had been driven away thanks to her son's aid and blessing, and that guaranteed that she had at least a month or so of safety to ensure that both she and her son would recover adequately. Besides, Python wouldn't dare to approach her so boldly now, afraid of whatever other powers that he thought that she had kept secret. In his view, she had been prey that had become a predator in a moment, turning the tables and putting Python's life in danger. He'd be afraid of whatever else she had kept hidden because, as far as he knew, she'd had this power the entire time. Leto began to walk, not with a hurried tread, but with a joyous skip in her step and a carefree smile on her face. For the first time in years, she felt free and able to do whatever she pleased. But first, she needed to take a bath.

A/N-

Total Length: 7106 words

Some things that aren't talked about(like the 'pragmatic' personality) are for later plans and will be developed later on. I don't know how to write a female's perspective, so if I misrepresented that, please give clues to help if you have the know-how.

This is my first fic on this site, so I hope you enjoyed it. It's just the first chapter of the story that I've begun to write out, but I've got quite a bit of the story planned. As mentioned, this is a fan-fiction based on the Percy Jackson series and Greek mythology, so as such, stuff will be changed around a bit, if Leto getting a death laser didn't clue you in. I plan to flesh out godly powers and, eventually, magic, as evidenced with that blessing's description. I also try to make the actions of gods make more sense to us, like the theory about the baby gods. The part about the void was just a way to do an after-death portion and alter 'my' personality by making it colder, which will be put to use in the future but might be mentioned as an off-hand comment, far-off in the future. Any remarks on glaring plot holes that I've missed, I will gladly receive.

If you don't like the story, please just leave. Also, please be polite, it's my first time writing like this, and review would help while flames won't. If you've got any particularly inspired ideas or comprehensive compliant, please do tell me.

Lastly, I know my grammar isn't the best. Even though I've put the story through both Grammarly and my writing software, there'll probably still be mistakes, so please tell me about them as well.

Thanks for reading Ch.1,

InformalMuse