Tet was currently sitting in a beautiful meadow under a warm, golden sun, the grass swaying gently in the breeze. Dozens of fluffy, white sheep bounced happily around him, bleating in a lazy rhythm.
With a sigh, Tet leaned back in his floating chair, his mismatched eyes scanning the clouds lazily. "And that's why I came here," he said out loud, his tone casual but tinged with exasperation. "I needed a breather. I've got several balls in the air, and I'm not sure what to do next. Should I say 'screw it' and add more… or just let the ones I've got land first?"
Across from him, the small purple dragon — scales gleaming in the sunlight, wings folded at his sides — stared at him flatly. Spyro's eyes narrowed, his tail flicking in annoyance.
"Dude, I don't know you," Spyro said bluntly, his voice carrying that cocky but good-hearted edge. "You just appeared out of nowhere, sat down, and started telling me your life story. What makes you think I'd give you good advice?"
Tet gave an easy shrug, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips. "I don't know. You always seem to know what to do, even without anyone telling you to do it."
Spyro smirked, puffing his chest slightly. "That's because I trust my gut. When people are in trouble, I don't hesitate — I do whatever it takes to get the job done."
Tet tilted his head, curiosity glinting in his eyes. "But aren't you, like… I don't know, twelve? Why aren't any of the adult dragons doing anything?"
Spyro's brow furrowed, and he gave Tet a long, flat look that practically screamed 'really?' Without saying a word, both of them turned their gaze toward the adult dragons in the distance.
The so-called elders were lounging around lazily, some ramming into each other like idiots, others gorging themselves on piles of food.
Tet raised his hands in mock surrender. "Point taken."
Spyro huffed. "Look, I may not know you, but from what you told me, it sounds like you're just a bit overworked. Take some time to yourself. Do what you love. Do you know what that is?"
Tet's grin widened. "What I love is to play games. What I love more than that… is people playing games with me. That… gives me an idea. Thanks, Spyro. I'll always remember you as you are, and not what Skylanders turns you into. Later."
Spyro blinked. "What the hell does that mean?"
"Bye," Tet said cheerfully, and with a burst of swirling, kaleidoscopic colors, he vanished into thin air.
Spyro just stared at the empty space for a beat before shaking his head. "What a weird guy."
---
Tet reappeared in his realm, the familiar swirl of color folding away into the infinite sky of his domain. He stretched his arms with a relaxed grin.
"I want the events going on in this world to still happen," he mused aloud, "because it'd be boring if everyone just had peaceful, happy lives! …Wow, saying that out loud makes me sound evil. Then again, I can't really be called completely good now, can I?"
His eyes gleamed with a sudden spark of inspiration. "But after that little talk with Spyro… I know what I want to do. And since I really don't take advantage of the fact that I can just leap through time as I please… I'm just going to fast-forward straight to the Sea of Monsters."
With a snap of his fingers, the world around him folded like a deck of cards. He leaped forward in time to the next summer and arrived at Camp Half-Blood.
An invisible barrier shimmered briefly around the camp — his doing — one that twisted the perceptions of any prying eyes, from the Fates to Zeus himself. Satisfied, Tet strolled toward the Big House just as Chiron was being fired and Tantalus was slithering in to take his place.
Before the smug fool could even sit down, Tet snapped his fingers. In an instant, Tantalus vanished, reappearing right back in the Fields of Punishment where he belonged.
Tet dropped himself into the Activities Director's chair with casual authority, his gaze landing on Chiron. "Change of plans — I'll be taking over as Activities Director during your… let's say, vacation."
Chiron and Dionysus both froze, wide-eyed.
Before Chiron could speak, Dionysus clamped a hand over the centaur's mouth. "It's wonderful to have you here, sir. What brings the Almighty to our humble camp?"
Chiron's eyes widened further at the address, but Tet simply waved a hand. "Oh, you know… I was bored and thought I'd pop in and take over for Chiron until things blow over."
Dionysus relaxed slightly, leaning back with a faint smile. "It'll be a pleasure to have you here."
Tet gave a satisfied nod. "It's a pleasure to be here." His gaze shifted back to Chiron. "You have no need to worry — I'll make sure the kids are taken care of."
Chiron tilted his head slightly. "I appreciate that, Lord, but… aren't you a bit overqualified to do this?"
Tet smirked. "I literally have all the time in existence — it's good. But rather than that, you should probably get packing. I don't think you want Zeus to see you still hanging around."
Chiron's brows furrowed, but he nodded and trotted out of the room.
Tet leaned back. "So, someone poisoned the tree?"
Dionysus nodded, his lips curling in irritation. "We all know it was Hermes' brat, but old Thunderbeard is still blaming Chiron." He glanced at the sky, noticing the absence of dark clouds. "Weird. Usually, he'd grumble at even the slightest insult."
Tet smiled faintly. "Oh, I've completely masked the camp from his sight. Only gods that I can trust can see in here — and that list is small. Everyone else sees the divine equivalent of looped camera footage. Not even the Fates know what's going on right now."
Dionysus raised a brow. "So you mean to tell me that as long as you're here, no one can see inside the camp?"
"Exactly," Tet said smoothly. "I'll watch the kids, Dionysus. Go relax."
Without another word, Dionysus bolted out of the room, no doubt running straight for his private alcohol stash.
Tet chuckled. "Let's make this one unforgettable summer."
First, he headed to Thalia's tree and healed it completely — but made it look as though it were still poisoned. Then, with a flick of his fingers, he placed a Hunter construct at the border to turn back any approaching monsters.
Soon after, he spotted Clarisse and a squad of demigods, armed to the teeth, approaching the border.
Waving them off, Tet said, "Border patrol's taken care of. Go back to your regular activities."
Clarisse narrowed her eyes. "Who are you?"
Tet grinned, standing a little taller. "The god of all gods." With a snap of his fingers, the sky above Camp Half-Blood exploded into a breathtaking supernova before snapping back to normal in an instant. "Now go back to your regular schedule."
All the demigods quickly nodded and retreated down the hill.
Tet tapped his chin. "Did I go overboard? Oh well, it was fun."
As he passed Hestia's hearth, the goddess herself emerged from the flames, her warm brown eyes locking onto him.
"Hey, Tet," she said with a small smile. "I thought you were playing around on that one world you just got — you know, the one with those four super-powerful vampires and the artificial island?"
Tet smirked. "I am… and I'm not."
Hestia tilted her head in curiosity before realization dawned. "Oh… is this the time you leapt forward in time because you were bored?"
"Yeah," Tet admitted. "Don't worry — I'm gonna go back to the point I left from. This is just me taking a break."
Hestia's expression turned into a cool, knowing smile. "Prepare for my scolding upon your return."
Tet straightened slightly, a shiver running down his spine. "Yes, ma'am."
She giggled softly. "Well, now that you're here, I'm guessing you replaced Tantalus?"
"Yep," Tet replied.
Hestia sighed in relief. "Good. I don't know what my idiot brother was thinking, putting that monster anywhere near children."
Tet chuckled. "You know, you're probably strong enough now that you could literally tell him to death."
Hestia's smile turned slightly wicked. "Oh, I did."
Tet blinked. "…You what?"
"A few months ago, he threatened a seven-year-old demigod because she said he was dumb. So I kind of just… unleashed all my pent-up rage on him and accidentally destroyed him. I had to ask you to turn back time to before I did it. And then, to make sure it didn't happen again, you put a curse on him that makes it so every time he threatens a child, he ironically gets struck by lightning — and it actually hurts him."
Tet laughed. "Wow, thanks for all the spoilers, Hestia."
She gave a sly grin. "Consider it part one of your punishment for messing with time."
Tet smirked. "Oh well… guess I'll just have to think of an even more creative punishment for Zeus now."
Hestia tilted her head. "Huh. That's weird — now I don't remember what you did to Zeus. It keeps changing."
Tet's grin widened. "Good. That means I haven't decided yet — so now it'll be a surprise for both of us. Now, from what I remember… other than being a cruel asshole, Tantalus reinstalled chariot racing. I'm not gonna do the same — because I'm not a hack. Racing does sound fun, but as the god of games, I have so many more options."
Hestia gave him a dry look. "Please don't hurt or traumatize the kids."
Tet waved her off. "I won't, jeez. I make one morally questionable decision and you and Apollo think I've lost my mind. I'm not Sheogorath."
Hestia blinked. "…Who?"