Morning arrived with divine brilliance, golden light spilling through Alexios's modest window with the peculiar quality unique to Olympus—not merely illuminating but energizing, carrying traces of raw creation that ordinary sunlight lacked. He rose with practiced efficiency, his body refreshed despite the limited hours of actual sleep his evolving physiology now required.
"First day of the charade," he murmured, beginning his morning rituals with methodical precision.
Physical cleansing came first—the enchanted washbasin providing water that recognized its user's divine potential, adjusting its properties accordingly. For acknowledged godlings, it would provide personalized enhancements; for Alexios, with his concealed nature, it offered merely superior cleanliness, remaining cautiously neutral.
"Smart water," he noted with amusement. "Unsure how to categorize me, so defaulting to basic service."
Next came energy alignment—subtle exercises invisible to casual observation but vital for maintaining both his disguise and his growing power. Tracing meridian lines with practiced fingertips. Balancing internal currents through controlled breathing. Harmonizing his true nature with its illusory covering to prevent discrepancies under scrutiny.
Finally, the physical preparations. Donning the neutral gray Academy attire that marked his ambiguous status. Arranging Aphrodite's pendant and the Forbidden Time artifact beneath his clothing, positioned to minimize their energetic signatures while remaining in contact with his skin.
A final check in the mirror—the perfect image of an unremarkable student, elevated beyond servitude but far from divine acknowledgment.
"Alexios the unremarkable," he told his reflection with grim humor. "How the mighty have fallen."
His reflection offered no response beyond perfectly mirroring his sardonic smile.
*
The Academy's central courtyard had transformed overnight from ordered tranquility to magnificent chaos. Divine arrivals proceeded with the competitive spectacle that characterized Olympian interactions—each god or goddess attempting to outshine others through increasingly elaborate entrances for their offspring.
Apollo's chariot blazed a trail of living light across the morning sky, depositing twin godlings who radiated golden brilliance that caused lesser beings to shield their eyes.
Poseidon's children arrival manifested as a towering wave that somehow remained vertical without spilling, his son Theseus riding its crest with casual mastery before it dissolved into perfect seafoam. Minor forest deities emerged from suddenly appearing ancient trees that receded back into extra-dimensional groves once their purpose was fulfilled.
From his carefully selected vantage point—present but peripheral—Alexios observed the pageantry with detached interest. The hierarchy established itself through these displays, first impressions setting the social order that would persist throughout the term.
Divine parents showcasing their offspring's potential. Young godlings simultaneously demonstrating inherited power while acknowledging parental authority—a delicate balance in immortal politics.
"Quite the spectacle, isn't it?" commented a voice beside him.
Alexios turned to find a young woman observing the proceedings with an expression that mirrored his own detached assessment. Her simple white chiton bore minimal adornment—just a subtle pattern of interlocking circles at the hem that suggested academic rather than divine affiliation.
No house colors or immortal sigils marked her as belonging to a particular pantheon.
"Indeed," he replied noncommittally, quickly assessing potential threat or opportunity. "Though perhaps excessive for what amounts to school registration."
She laughed—a sound containing genuine amusement rather than the practiced musical tones cultivated by divine offspring.
"Precisely my thought. I'm Lyra, by the way. Academic scholarship rather than divine birthright." She gestured to her simple attire. "Hence the unaffiliated white."
Understanding dawned. The Academy occasionally admitted exceptional mortal scholars—those with particular insight into divine mechanics or rare talents worth cultivating. They received white uniforms rather than house colors or his own ambiguous gray.
"Alexios," he introduced himself. "Former servant elevated to student status. Hence the gray."
"Ah, I'd heard rumors about you," Lyra nodded. "The unprecedented case. Quite the achievement."
Before he could respond, a particularly dramatic arrival commanded attention—a perfect lightning bolt striking the center of the courtyard, splitting into three separate paths before resolving into Zeus's avatar himself, flanked by his sons. Perseus stood to his right, already carrying the enchanted kibisis bag that would one day hold Medusa's head. On his left, Hercules towered with the unmistakable physical presence that marked him as the strongest of demigods even in youth.
"Zeus and his pride," Alexios whispered, recognizing the youths who would become legends—and in another timeline, his brothers-in-arms before becoming his executioners.
"You know them?" Lyra asked with surprise.
Alexios quickly recovered. "Only by reputation. Perseus, slayer of monsters. Hercules, whose strength is already becoming legendary. Zeus takes particular pride in his heroic offspring."
"Well-informed for a former servant," she observed with raised eyebrows.
"I listen more than I speak," he replied smoothly. "A habit developed in service that continues to prove useful."
The ground trembled next, a fissure opening with surprising elegance rather than destruction. From shadowy depths emerged the avatar of Hades, his manifestation deliberately understated compared to his brothers' ostentation. Behind him followed his daughter Melinoe, her form shifting subtly between solid and spectral, and his son Zagreus, whose quiet intensity seemed to draw shadows toward him despite the morning sunlight.
Before Lyra could comment further, the courtyard's central fountain erupted with impossible force, water spiraling upward before parting to reveal Poseidon upon his chariot pulled by hippocampi. This time his avatar had manifested too.
Beside him stood Theseus, already carrying himself with the confidence that would make him Athens' greatest hero. Following close behind came Triton, the merman prince whose upper body appeared human while scaled green-blue skin revealed his oceanic nature below the waist.
"The big three and their heirs," Lyra commented with academic interest. "Quite the statement. Notice how they've coordinated their arrivals for maximum impact—sequential rather than simultaneous to prevent dividing attention."
Alexios nodded agreement, impressed by her analytical perspective while wrestling with unexpected emotions at seeing these particular arrivals. In his original timeline, Theseus, Perseus, and Hercules had become his closest companions, their brotherhood forged through countless adventures and shared triumphs before their final betrayal.
"Are you alright?" Lyra asked, noting his momentary distraction. "You've gone rather pale."
"Just overwhelmed by the divine display," he lied smoothly. "I'm still adjusting to my new station."
A sonorous bell tolled across the Academy grounds—not a physical instrument but a harmonized frequency that resonated in the very stones. The signal for students to proceed to their assigned instruction halls.
"That's our cue," Lyra noted. "Which cohort are you assigned to?"
Alexios consulted his schedule. "Third Tier, Western Quadrant."
"Same as me," she replied with evident pleasure. "Shall we proceed together? Safety in numbers among all these preening godlings."
He nodded agreement, grateful for the unexpected alliance with someone equally outside the divine hierarchy. Together they navigated through the dispersing crowd, Alexios carefully maintaining distance from Theseus, Perseus, and Hercules, who moved confidently toward the First Tier facilities reserved for highest-ranking divine offspring.
Different paths in this timeline. Different destinies to fulfill. The thought brought equal measures of relief and determination.