Closing the car door shut, I waved at Maria and Pierre by the open window. "Thanks for the lift."

"Anytime, anak," Maria said. "Don't be shy to ask us again, okay?"

I smiled. "I'll keep that in mind."

Pierre gave me a toothy grin. "See you on Monday!"

The moment the car drove off, I turned around and was met by a familiar face.

"Ben!"

He jogged in my direction. "Mel!"

Both of us came to each other in a bone-crushing hug. The scent of his cologne, mixed with the aroma of his home-baked muffins, hit my nose. It was our house's signature scent. After a few beats, we let go of our embrace.

"So, how are you?" Ben said. "How's Olympian High?"

I shrugged. "I'm fine, it's fine. Nothing too interesting."

Should I even tell him about my powers?

No. . . I don't want him to panic or something. He was already transferring me to different schools and towns because he was paranoid of someone chasing us, which he never bothered telling me the reason to, and telling him might just ruin the day.

"That's good to hear." Ben nodded, then looked beyond the road in front of us. "I saw you step out of a car that didn't look like it came from school."

I laughed nervously. "About the free school transportation thing. . . I read it wrong. There wasn't actually one, so I asked a friend for a favor to give me a lift."

He raised a brow. "But why didn't you just call me again?"

"It's nothing." I waved my hand dismissively. "I didn't want you to bother going all the way."

Shaking his head, Ben ruffled my auburn hair. "Thoughtful as always. Let's get inside the museum and talk more."

The Ancient History Museum boasted a vast collection of different artworks and artifacts, ranging from huge dinosaur skeletons to Egyptian hieroglyphics on stone slabs, and ancient scrolls with faded writing to medieval weapons and armory. These had their own section in the museum where visitors could take a peek at them either from a glass display or behind fences.

"So, Ben, why are we here exactly?" I asked as I trailed behind him.

"I had to talk to you about something important," he replied. "Since this is one of your favorite places, I figured we would meet up here. Plus, I won't be able to show you this."

I didn't notice that we already got to the far side of the museum. When I looked around, we were surrounded by old artifacts on glass displays and pedestals. And when I said old, I meant it-will-crumble-to-dust-with-one-touch old.

"The Greek History section?" I turned to Ben in confusion. "But I know this place like the back of my hand."

Ben used to take me here on weekends when I was younger. I loved seeing the big statues and the beautiful paintings, but my favorite was the Greek History section. Since I loved Greek mythology so much, it would be fair for me to love its history too.

"I know that, Mel," Ben began, "but do you know who donated most of the pieces here?"

I shook my head. "I'm just interested in the stuff here so. . . no."

"The donor is your real father," he said.

"What? My real father?" I gaped. "For real?"

Ben nodded. "He was an archaeologist of sorts. Whenever he discovered something, he gave some of it to museums like this one. When the curators would offer him large sums of money, he would refuse them, or he would receive and give them to charities."

"Wow. . ." I gazed at the museum displays once more. "W-Why are you telling me this just now?"

He suddenly whipped his head around, looking suspiciously at the place with his eyes narrowed and forehead creased.

"What is it?" I asked.

He didn't look at me, still looking around and checking if no one was near. When he was finally done, he sat on one of the benches pressed on the wall at the far side of the room. He patted the space beside him, motioning for me to come and sit. He held my hand and gazed at me with apologetic eyes.

"Mel, I'm so sorry I don't tell much about your real parents," he said. "I know that you have some, if not a lot, of questions about them that I didn't like answering. I hope you can forgive me."

My forehead creased. "Hey, it's okay. I'm not mad at you for not telling me. It's not like I knew them or anything, so I think it's fine."

He averted his gaze, sighing. "What would Dmitri think of this?"

I grimaced. He probably expected me to be curious about them, didn't he? Maybe I should be. . .

"I mean, you can still tell me about them if you want," I said. "Telling me wouldn't hurt."

He perked up. "Well, where do I start?" He rubbed his chin. "So. . . Your mother Gabriela was the sweetest person I've known. She was very cheerful and her lighthearted attitude was known to everyone close to her. She had your auburn hair, but lighter, and your round face and smile.

"And then there's your father, Dmitri." He shook his head, smiling. "He was the complete opposite of Gabriela. He had this serious expression of his whenever he was around people. His dark hair was always a bit of a mess and then his eyes. . . You got his brown eyes from him. . ."

Hearing him narrate about my parents, I couldn't help but wish that I knew about them sooner. Just by hearing Uncle Ben talk about them, I was missing two people that I haven't even met before.

"We were also very close with your mom. The moment they started dating, I became the awkward third wheel." He chuckled. "It was weird at that time, but we were still best buds till the end."

I scooted closer to Ben and patted his shoulder. "You miss them, don't you?"

"Yeah," he said. "Very much. I wish you could meet them, but. . . they died." He exhaled. "I should've done something to help them, but I couldn't."

"Hey, I know that I was still a baby back then, but I know it's not your fault they're dead."

Ben sighed. "You're right, but I still feel like a part of it was. While my two friends suffered, I just ran away like a coward. I was. . . powerless."

We sat there in silence. While Ben stared silently in space, I roamed my gaze around the museum displays as I thought of ways to comfort him.

Suddenly, he stood up. "Let's continue looking around to pass the time."

I turned to him. "Pass the time? For what?"

He winked. "It's a surprise. We'll just have to wait until tonight to see it."

As Ben promised, we patiently waited until the night fell and the last of the visitors exited the museum.

I had a few wild ideas on where this was going, but I decided not to tell Ben about them. I'm pretty sure he would think I have gone crazy or something.

Anyway, the guard asked us why we were still here, but Ben told him that he was friends with the museum's curator and that he wanted to see him. The guard then led us to the curator's office.

While walking on the long hallways, my mind was busy thinking about the thing Ben was going to show me. Will it be another one of my father's discoveries? Or will it be something else?

"Ben, how come you're friends with the curator?" I asked.

"We're more than friends, Mel," Ben replied. "He's my cousin."

My eyebrows shot up. "Your cousin?"

"Well, he's my distant cousin," he corrected. "We used to be close, and I think he won't mind us taking a peek at the museum's warehouse."

"The museum's warehouse?" I echoed again.

The guard stopped at a large wooden door with intricate carvings on its front. Straightening his uniform, he knocked on the door thrice before opening a bit and taking a peek inside.

"Sir, there are visitors looking for you," the guard said inside.

There was silence before a voice answered. "Let them in."

The guard opened the door wide and motioned us to enter. As soon as Ben and I stepped inside, I heard the door shut from behind me.

Compared to Rhea's office back at Olympian High, the place here was an utter mess. Busts of famous people throughout history stood around, completely disfigured. Stacks of dusty old books piled up in one corner while a bunch of chipped vases and broken pottery were in another. Treasure chests, framed artworks and other objects that should have been on display were scattered across the floor, leaving little to no space to move around.

The only thing that wasn't in disarray was a lone wooden table in the center of the room. There was nothing on the desk except for a pen holder with several pens and markers, a computer, and a bundle of thick record books.

A slim, middle-aged man had his attention on what looked like a small dog figure that he held with both of his hands. He looked at it with absolute interest like it was a precious diamond. Perking up, he stared at me with a blank expression. When he gazed at Ben, his eyes suddenly lit up.

"Benjamin! Is that really you?" the man asked, adjusting his glasses.

Uncle Ben grinned. "It's me, Robert. How are you?"

Robert chucked the figurine away and shuffled towards us while being careful not to step on anything. The second he finally got to us, he pulled Ben into an embrace.

"I'm very fine, Benjamin," Robert replied. "It's so good to finally see you!"

"It's good to see you too," Ben said, then looked around. "I see that you're busy with. . . a lot of stuff around here."

Robert looked behind him then turned to us with a sheepish smile. "Sorry for the clutter. I don't usually get many visitors in my office, so I don't usually clean up."

"I figured," I muttered.

He whipped his head towards me, frowning. "And who are you supposed to be?"

Ben patted him on his shoulder, calming him down. "This here is Dmitri's daughter, Amelia. I've been taking care of her on his behalf."

"His daughter?" Robert gazed at me, squinting from his glasses. "I see that he has been quite busy for the last several years." He circled around me like a critic inspecting a statue.

Okay. . . This is getting weird.

I glanced at Ben. "Can we just get straight to the point?"

"Oh, I almost forgot," he scratched his head. "Robert, we came here because we wanted to see the. . . thing Dmitri gave to you for safekeeping. It's Dmitri's last request for his daughter."

My real father's last request? Why didn't Ben tell me about this before?

"I remember what you mean." Robert adjusted his glasses. "Come on, I'll show you."

He led us out of the office and into an elevator. Soon enough, we were already three floors underground. There, we passed through a lot of strict security measures. We walked through a metal detector being interrogated by a very scary-looking bodyguard. Robert did a fingerprint scan and typed a long and complicated password before we finally reached the museum warehouse.

If I were a thief, this would probably be the last place I'll ever think of when I plan on stealing something from the museum.

The place was. . . not what I expected it to be, to say the least. I imagined that there would be a lot of large metal vaults protected by armored security guards and advanced security features that you'd see in the movies.

But the place was just full of museum stuff. Boxes and crates were stacked and scattered around the place, making it seem like we're navigating through a maze.

I looked at Robert in confusion. "I thought you said you store important items around here. But why does this warehouse here look like the basement in our house?"

"It's because the artifacts are hidden in plain sight," he replied. "What better way to keep them safe by not storing them in obvious places like a heavily-guarded vault."

What kind of logic was that? "So, where is this 'thing' we're going to see?"

"I guess you also hid the object in here somewhere, Robert?" Ben said.

"Of course," Robert said. "It would be foolish if I didn't do the same to Dmitri's artifact. Now, come along. We're almost there."

We made several more twists and turns until we reached a spot full of boxes filled with swords, helmets, shields and other weapons like the ones at the museum displays above us. Robert approached a box filled with bows and quivers. He rummaged through the box, and after a few seconds, he finally got a long leather bag the size of my arm.

"Dear cousin, will you take off the bag, please?" Robert asked. "But do it carefully."

Nodding, Ben slowly pulled the bag off, revealing a wooden bow.

"It's not just any bow, Amelia," Robert said as if he read my mind. "May I present to you. . . the Bow of Artemis."

"Artemis? As in Artemis, the goddess of the moon and hunt?"

"The one and only!" Robert nodded with enthusiasm. "Legend has it that this very bow was forged in the volcanic workshop of Hephaestus himself. Made of pure silver, this bow is virtually indestructible!"

Ben stared at the bow in awe. "Nice."

I looked at Robert skeptically. "It doesn't look like it's made of silver to me."

Robert shrugged. "As I've said, it's just a legend. Who knows, it may or may not be true."

"How did my real dad get it?" I turned back to the bow that Ben was holding.

Ben thought for a moment. "I'm not sure, Mel, but he told me that it was a very difficult piece to obtain. He had to do a lot of extensive research and consult with many archaeologists just to find this bow."

"That much work? But it's just a normal bow with a silly legend behind it."

Robert looked at me in disbelief. "A silly legend? Well, that's one of the reasons why it's special. That story had been passed down for generations, and I, a museum curator, didn't know about it until Dmitri shared its history with me."

"Really?"

Robert nodded. "Oh, yes, really. You see, your father Dmitri's work mostly focused on artifacts like the Bow of Artemis. He called them the Olympian Artifacts."

"Let me guess. . . They are the objects that were once owned by the Olympian gods?"

"Spot on," Robert replied. "That's exactly what Dmitri said."

I was surprised for a second. "So you believed him?"

Robert shook his head. "Not at first. When he consulted me about the bow, I told him I had never heard of it, but he deeply insisted that there was one and that he needed my help to find it."

Above us, a light bulb started flickering on and off, making the three of us look up. It continued doing so for a few seconds before turning back on.

"Hm. . . strange," Robert said. "Anyway, we both tried to look for—"

Before he uttered another word, the lights in the warehouse started flickering and a blanket of darkness swallowed us whole.