Typhon, Father of Monsters

A/N: If you reach 200 powerstones in 24 hours I'll upload another chapter. Also, if you want to support me and read up to 10 chapters in advance and secondary novels go to my patreon.

Patreon.com/Joanjudo Stories

https://discord.gg/uHeQfS2NBf

— — — — — — — —

{Tartarus, Unknown Time}

Odysseus POV

The train hurtled through the gloom of Tartarus, the landscape outside a blur of shadow and despair. Inside, the atmosphere wasn't much better. I glanced at Melinoe, her form unsettlingly split between inky black and bone-white. The contrast was sharp, jarring even. I still didn't trust her, though my suspicion of her had lessened.

We had been riding in silence for what felt like an eternity, the only sounds the steady rumble of the train and the distant. The kind of place where time doesn't just pass—it stagnates, festers. And in that silence, my thoughts turned dark, as they often did in Tartarus.

"Melinoe," I began, breaking the silence. She looked at me, one half of her face almost impossible to make out in the gloom, the other glaringly visible. "I've been thinking...what exactly is your plan when we go to Typhon, I ain't exactly on good terms with him, or with his family at least."

Her expression shifted, the white side of her face performing an exasperated sigh, "Not on good terms? What did you do?"

"I killed his wife," I whispered quietly

"I'm sorry what was that?" she asked incredulity in her tone as she cleaned out her ear with a finger.

"I killed his wife, Echidna."

"You killed his wife!!" She exclaimed.

"And some of their children."

Melinoe's eyes widened, her disbelief clear. "And their children?"

I shrugged. "Some... some of their children. Also it wasn't exactly my first choice, but it was the only choice I had at the time." Even now that we were heading straight to her husband and one of the most powerful beings ever, even if I could go back and change it, I wouldn't.

Killing Echidna had given me my sight, it was one of the few happy memories I had something that didn't come much in the life of a demigod.

"Odysseus," Melinoe said, her voice tinged with exasperation, "do you realize what you've done? Typhon's hatred for the gods is legendary, but for you… if he finds out you're on this train—"

"He'll tear me apart," I finished for her, my tone flat. "Yeah, I figured that much."

She sighed, pressing a hand to her forehead, the blackness of her fingers bleeding into the white as if trying to erase her own worry. "Okay we can still make this work."

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. I already had a plan of my own, but I wanted to see what she could come up with, this was kinda like a test. If she made a plan that was better than mine then perfect, if she made a plan that endangered me then my suspicion was well founded. A win-win situation save for the fact that I would miss on knowing where the hell Luke was going to be.

"And what do you suggest?"

Melinoe paced around, a black hand resting on her black and white neck.

"We could use the blood of the monsters on this train," she said after a moment, her voice gaining confidence. "If you bathe in it, it might mask your scent, your presence. Typhon's senses are incredibly sharp, but his main body is still trapped in Mount Saint Helens. So as long as we cover up your scent…"

"...then he might not notice me at all," I finished, nodding slowly. It was a good plan, and surprisingly, it was the same one I had come up with. 

She glanced at me, a glimmer of hope in her mismatched eyes. "Yes, exactly. And I'll speak to him. You'll stay in the train so as to mask your scent with those of the monsters even more while I'll go talk to him."

I couldn't help but smirk. "So, I'll play dead while you negotiate with the Father of Monsters? Not a bad plan, considering the alternative."

"Do you have a better idea?" she asked, crossing her arms.

I shook my head, though in truth, I didn't need to. "No, your plan works. We'll do it."

Relief washed over her features, and she nodded, the tension easing from her body. "Good. We should act quickly. The monsters in the the first car you boarded—Cyclopes—should have a powerful enough blood to mask your scent."

Without another word, we moved through the train, passing the other passengers who were bound by to their seats by black and white belts, then I wondered if Melinoe had taken a piece of the monster's soul as her 'ticket' and that's why the couldn't move.

We finally reached the awaited cart, the cyclopes like all other monsters were chained to their seats, their single eyes glaring at us -no at Melinoe- with a mixture of fear and anger. 

Melinoe approached the first cyclops, and without hesitation, she slashed its wrist with a blade formed from the shadows of the train. The creature roared in pain, the sound echoing through the car, but it was quickly silenced by another wave of shadowy restraints that gagged it.

I stepped forward, holding out my hands as the golden blood flowed from the wound, that also interested me, their blood like gods was also golden, though it looked more like yellow as if it was diluted.

The blood was thick, almost tar-like, and reeked of decay and sulfur. Perfect. I dipped my hands into the blood, smearing it across my skin, feeling its warmth seep into my pores. It was disgusting, but necessary.

As I continued to coat myself in the Cyclops' blood, Melinoe kept a close watch on the creatures. I could feel the blood clinging to me like a second skin, its foul odor masking my own scent. With any luck, it would be enough to fool Typhon—if only for a little while.

Once I was thoroughly covered, we returned to the conductor's cabin. The blood made my skin crawl, but I pushed the discomfort aside. Melinoe took her place at the controls, her expression focused as she guided the train without traintracks-

It didn't take long before the landscape outside began to change. The oppressive darkness gave way to a dim, sickly light that seemed to emanate from the very ground itself. The air grew thick with smoke and fumes, the stench of sulfur and burning rock filling my lungs. We were getting close.

"There," Melinoe said, pointing ahead. "That's him."

At first, it looked like a mountain—an enormous, jagged peak that pierced the black sky, shrouded in thick, black smoke. But as we drew nearer, I realized something. The mountain wasn't a mountain at all. It was Typhon.

The beast was a colossal, almost solidified mass of smoke and ash, his form barely distinguishable from the landscape around him. Two massive, bat-like wings extended from his back, their edges frayed and torn like the wings of a demon. They moved slowly, as if stirring the very air with each beat, sending waves of smoke billowing in every direction.

Hundreds of heads—each as large as a house—emerged from the writhing mass, their features twisted and monstrous. From every mouth, serpentine tongues flicked out, each one as thick as a tree trunk and moving with a mind of its own. The heads seemed to shift and merge with the smoke, making it difficult to tell where Typhon ended and Tartarus began. And in each of those faces, two fiery red eyes blazed with malevolent intelligence, scanning the horizon for any sign of intruders.

I swallowed hard, the sight of Typhon enough to make even me hesitate. This was a creature of pure chaos, the embodiment of the wild, untamed fury of the earth itself. This was the most powerful creature born from the union of Gaia and Tartarus, the creature who almost defeated all the gods by itself, the father of all monsters, the bane of Olympus. This was Typhon.