The mischievous gamer God

It was nearly 9:00 at night when Luke returned to his cabin. Immediately, he noticed something was off. The Hermes cabin was deathly quiet—unnervingly so. That alone raised every red flag in Luke's mind. The Hermes cabin was always the loudest place in Camp Half-Blood, full of energy, chaos, and chatter. Instinctively, Luke's hand went to the hilt of his sword as he slowly stepped inside.

The room was dark and eerily still. As his eyes adjusted to the low light, he saw all of his cabinmates passed out in their bunks, snoring peacefully, completely unaware—without a care in the world. But then… at the back of the cabin, sitting in the shadows, he saw the last person he ever wanted to see.

His father.

And next to him sat a small white-haired child with mismatched eyes.

Luke scoffed, his voice laced with sharp bitterness. "What do you want?"

Hermes kept his composure, his expression gentle, but Tet could feel the pang of sadness that flickered in the god's heart at his son's tone. With a flick of his wrist, Hermes magically sealed the door shut. Then Tet cast a spell of silence, ensuring no one—no god, no camper, not even a dryad—could listen in.

Hermes spoke first, his voice filled with quiet regret. "I'm sorry, son. For years now, I've been trying to save you from your fate. No matter how hard I tried… no matter how long I searched… I couldn't stop it. Not by myself. I couldn't even speak of it—let alone tell you what it was. But things have changed."

Luke's face twisted with a mixture of disbelief and betrayal, and he snapped, his voice rising. "You mean this whole time… you've known my fate? You knew what was going to happen to me, and you didn't say anything?!"

Hermes stood up slowly, his face shadowed with guilt. "Yes. I knew. I knew that after the failed quest for the Apple, your hatred for the gods would fester… that it would grow strong enough to make you desperate. Desperate enough to side with Kronos."

Luke's jaw clenched. He shifted uncomfortably and said, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Hermes gave a short, rueful chuckle. "Try again, kid. I'm the god of deception—you might fool everyone else, but not me. Besides, I told you… I know your fate. And tonight, I'm going to save you from it."

Luke, despite himself, swallowed his pride for a moment. "Fine, old man. What is my fate?"

At that question, Hermes looked away, pain tightening his features. So Tet stepped forward and answered for him.

"Your fate," he said calmly, "is to become the host for Kronos. You'll make it all the way to the heart of the Empire State Building, ready to bring Olympus crumbling down... and then you'll die."

Luke's eyes widened in horror. "No. You're lying. That can't be true—there's no way."

Tet rolled his eyes and sighed. "Yeah, I'm not waiting for you to go through your whole extreme denial phase."

Casually, he walked over, placed a hand on Luke's forehead, and transferred all of Luke's future memories into his mind.

Luke collapsed to the floor in shock, gasping, eyes blown wide in disbelief. His voice trembled.

"He… he promised. He said things would be better. That I'd be building a utopia. He never told me I'd… I might have to give up control of my own body."

Hermes knelt beside his son and placed a hand gently on his shoulder. "He's called the Crooked One for a reason, kiddo."

Tet crossed his arms and added, "But don't worry—there's a way out. That's why I'm here."

"The events that lead to your fate have to happen," Tet explained. "But it doesn't technically have to be you."

With a wave of his hand, he conjured a perfect replica of Luke—every detail flawless, down to his very last freckle and heartbeat.

"This construct," Tet said, "is soulless. But no one—not even the Fates themselves—will be able to tell it's a fake. Not even if they tear it apart molecule by molecule. It'll play your part, say your lines, make the same choices... and it'll die in your place."

"Meanwhile, you—the real Luke Castellan—will be sent to a new world. A new life. And when everything's said and done, I'll come find you. Ask if you want to come back."

Luke blinked, still trying to absorb everything. "Why wouldn't I want to come back?"

Tet shrugged. "Time works differently in the worlds I create. A year or two for us? That could be an entire lifetime for you. I already explained this to your father. Don't worry—I picked a world where you'll thrive."

Before Luke could respond, Tet reached forward and waved his hand above Luke's head, seizing something invisible to the mortal eye—a glowing golden thread.

Hermes gasped softly. "Oh gods… is that—?"

Tet nodded. "Yep. It's his fate."

Without fanfare, he plucked the thread from Luke's soul and tethered it to the construct.

"There," he said, dusting off his hands. "Congratulations, kid. You now have true free will. Every choice you make from now on? It's yours. No prophecy, no divine puppeteering. Just you. Live freely. Live happily."

Then Tet turned and said, "I'll give you two some time alone."

He walked out of the cabin and sat beside the hearth, conjuring two sticks and skewering three marshmallows on each. He began roasting them over the flames.

Suddenly, Hestia appeared, hands on her hips, a soft pout on her lips.

"Are you seriously roasting marshmallows on my hearth?" she asked with a huff.

Tet looked up at her with a grin. "You want some?"

She sighed, rolled her eyes fondly, and took one of the sticks. "Yes."

She sat down next to him, nibbling a marshmallow, and asked, "So, how do you think it's going in there?"

Tet shrugged. "They're either making up with heartfelt words and tears… or Luke's yelling at him like an angsty teenager."

He glanced around Camp Half-Blood and frowned. "This place needs an upgrade. Not enough housing for all the campers. Some of the facilities, while well-maintained, are way outdated."

Hestia groaned. "Ugh, I know. I've been pestering them about it for years. Athena keeps saying she'll get to it, but every time I press her, she tells me she's too busy."

Tet raised an eyebrow. "Then why don't you throw your weight around?"

Hestia narrowed her eyes. "Excuse me?"

Tet held up both hands defensively. "No, no! Not like that—I meant your authoritative weight. You're the eldest child of Kronos and Rhea. You're Athena's aunt. She should respect that."

Hestia looked away sheepishly. "I don't like bossing people around."

Tet sighed. "We'll have to fix that. But for now… looks like they're done."

Hermes and Luke approached the hearth, both looking like an enormous weight had finally been lifted from their shoulders.

Tet stood and gave a satisfied nod. "I take it the talk was productive?"

Hermes smiled softly. "It was."

Luke stepped forward, his posture relaxed but composed. "I apologize for not introducing myself earlier. My name is Luke Castellan."

Tet smirked. "I already knew that. But nice to meet you, Luke. I'm Tet, God of Games and the ruler of this universe."

Luke blinked at him for a moment, eyebrows raised, clearly uncertain how to respond to that revelation. Eventually, he decided to just let it slide and said, "So, you mentioned sending me to another world?"

Tet nodded. "Don't worry—you're going to love it."

Luke gave a small laugh. "What is it? Some kind of sunshine and rainbows world where I live out the rest of my days in happiness?"

Tet snorted. "Please. I'd never send a demigod to one of those. For better or worse, fighting's in your blood. It's part of who you are. You wouldn't last a month in a peaceful world."

Hermes nodded and sighed. "I hate to admit it, but he's right. Demigods were born to fight. Even Aphrodite's kids thrive on conflict."

Tet smiled. "No, kid. Where you're going? You'll be able to use your skills to the fullest. There'll be monsters. Danger. But most of all—adventure."

Luke's eyes sparkled with curiosity, and he began to grin, just a little. "Okay… when am I leaving?"

Tet said, "Oh, in a moment. These two should probably skedaddle first before they draw too much attention."

Hermes straightened up and nodded quickly. "Right. Better take off before old Thunderbeard notices we're here and starts asking questions."

He turned to Luke, his tone softer, more fatherly than usual. "Bye, son. I'll try to check in on you every now and then—if Tet'll let me."

Tet smirked. "I'll let you. You just gotta ask."

Hermes gave a grateful smile, a rare, sincere one. "Appreciated." Then, without another word, he vanished into the night in a shimmer of divine light.

Hestia gave a quiet sigh, her voice gentle and warm. "I should probably get back too." She walked toward the hearth and stepped inside it, vanishing into the flames like a whisper.

Tet turned back to Luke and clapped his hands together. "All right, kiddo. Before I send you off, I've got some gifts for you."

Luke perked up, visibly intrigued, a faint spark of excitement in his eyes. "Okay, cool. Lay them on me."

Tet laughed, amused by the enthusiasm. "Oh, you'll like these. First up, two gifts from your father."

He reached behind himself and pulled out a long, curved, single-edged bronze sword with a white leather-wrapped handle. The pommel gleamed with the engraved symbol of the caduceus. Tet said "This is harpe the sword your old man gave to Perseus back in the day".

Luke's eyes lit up with childlike excitement. He took the sword, held it up, and admired its craftsmanship with awe. "So this is Harpe? I've only ever heard stories about it. The old man hasn't used it since the really old days."

Tet nodded. "Yeah. I added a few enchantments to it. For starters, it can regenerate. Even if someone manages to shatter it—which would take a miracle—it'll repair itself in about a day."

He tapped the blade. "Second, since it's made of celestial bronze, I tweaked it so it's lethal to everything—not just monsters and gods. Can't have you getting into a fight with street thugs and wielding a sword that won't even scratch them."

Luke grimaced, imagining the scenario. "Yeah… that wouldn't be fun."

Tet continued, "Then, of course, there's Harpe's innate ability: it nullifies magical healing. Any wound inflicted by this beauty? Can't be healed by spells, potions, or blessings. Natural healing still works, but that's not gonna matter much if they bleed out."

Luke raised a brow, impressed. "Brutal."

"The final enchantment," Tet added with a mischievous grin, "is easier to show you than to explain. Hold the blade out over your arm and smack it on your wrist."

Luke blinked but obeyed. As soon as the blade touched his wrist, it shimmered and shrank down, wrapping itself around his wrist in a soft golden glow.

When the light faded, what remained was a sleek bronze bracelet in the form of two intertwined snakes joined at the tail.

Luke grinned wide. "Awesome. Now I'll never be without a weapon."

Tet nodded. "Exactly."

He then pulled out a softly glowing golden wisp and held it up for Luke to see. "And this is your second gift from your father—a wisp of his divine power."

Luke's jaw dropped. His voice was full of disbelief. "You're not serious. The old man actually cut off a piece of his own divinity? For me?"

Tet shrugged nonchalantly. "You don't gotta be so dramatic about it. It's nothing he won't recover from in a month or so. But for you? It'll be significant."

Luke reached forward with reverence, cupping the wisp gently in his hands. He instinctively pressed it into his chest, and it was instantly absorbed into his very soul.

He gasped as the energy surged through him. It was like being filled with lightning—but not painful. He felt stronger. Faster. Sharper. It was as if his very instincts had leveled up.

He smirked. "I feel amazing."

Then he looked at Tet with genuine gratitude in his eyes. "Tell the old man—I mean, my dad—thank you, when you see him."

Tet smiled, his tone sincere. "Sure thing."

He then clapped again. "Next, you've got a couple gifts from me. The first one's super simple and self-explanatory. It's called… Inventory."

He conjured a small glowing orb of light and tossed it into Luke's chest like it was nothing. It was instantly absorbed.

Luke blinked in confusion. "Whoa. What the hell?"

Tet crossed his arms. "Personally, I don't believe this needs an explanation—but I'll give you one anyway. You can store items inside of an invisible dimensional space that only you can access. Items stored won't degrade—food won't spoil. You can't store living beings, but there's no size or weight limit. The only catch is quantity: you're capped at around 100 items."

"Now for my second gift."

He created a second glowing orb, brighter than the first, and once again shoved it into Luke's chest. Instantly, a flood of knowledge and technique surged into Luke's brain.

Luke clutched his head and groaned. "What the hell's a Knight-Enchanter?!"

Tet handed him a sword hilt with a red leather-wrapped handle, silver guard, and silver pommel—no blade.

Luke blinked and held it up. "A… sword hilt. Gee, thanks."

Tet tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Was that not covered in the knowledge I transferred to you? My bad. You know how to channel mana now, right? Try pushing some into the hilt."

Luke did so. In an instant, a glowing blade of ethereal energy sprang forth from the hilt, shimmering with runic etchings along its length. It looked like it was made of pure light.

Luke's eyes widened. "Whoa, is this a light—"

Tet cut him off with a deadpan tone. "No. It is not. I know what you're thinking, and no—it isn't."

Luke just chuckled.

Tet continued, "Anyway, the only other gift is from Hestia. It's already in your inventory: three months' worth of home-cooked meals. She didn't want you to starve."

Luke chuckled, clearly touched. "Tell her I said thank you."

Tet nodded. "Will do."

He was about to send Luke off when he suddenly paused. "Oh crap. What was I thinking? I can't let you leave without this."

He handed Luke a small coin pouch.

Luke opened it and raised an eyebrow. "Three gold coins?"

Tet groaned. "Ugh. I'm way too nice."

Then he tapped Luke's forehead, and knowledge of the other world's economy and currency system filled his mind in an instant. He understood now—those three sovereigns could feed and house him for months, if used wisely. More than enough time to get established.

"Okay," Tet said, clapping his hands. "I think that's everything."

He conjured a beautiful ornate golden key, engraved with the image of a dragon rising skyward, wings outstretched, and handed it to Luke.

Luke held it in both hands and smiled. "Well… see you around."

He raised the key, turned it, and opened a glowing doorway. In a flash of radiant golden light, he vanished.

Tet stared at the fading glow and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Why is the light always gold? Is it 'cause the keys are gold? Or because they're made with divine power? Eh… whatever. Not really that important."

He shrugged, then turned—only to stop mid-step when he saw Dionysus standing there, arms crossed, eyebrows arched in disapproval.

Not wanting to deal with it, Tet sighed and conjured three barrels of wine. He cast a powerful spell over the entire camp.

"To Dionysus," he said flatly, "for the next 24 hours, no other god can see inside this camp. And you're temporarily cut off from the oath you swore on the River Styx. From your bewildered expression, I can already tell—you know exactly what I am."

Tet's expression hardened. "Don't speak of what you saw. I was never here. Understood?"

Dionysus blinked, then gave a slow nod. Without a word, he took the wine and vanished, grumbling all the way back to his cabin.

Tet exhaled in relief. "Love it when things are simple."

He dusted off his coat and cracked his knuckles.

"Now... it's time to go meet Artemis."