everything went black as i was faced by the beam above. it was peacefully serene throughout the crevices of the underworld. there was nothing but a perplexed soul who had never given much thought to their destiny.

nothing but a long high - pitched sound that can be heard in the distance, the once tranquil surface shakes uncontrollably, and my body becomes limp as an outcome of the energy this exerts on mine.

collapsed on the marble floor, my eye sockets crooked with blood as i knelt down. quavered in horror as i reach for my father, who had turned away from me, and started to call his name, my body trembling with paranoia.

shrieking in agony as a scorching pain tore through my flesh. i had no idea living has been this torturous, yet somehow the roiling anguish was what they deserved.

so, once more, everything came to a halt. and as i lost consciousness, my suffering came to an end.

i looked at every corner of her joints.

but mother wouldn't be bothered, right? i always loved creativity, think what's out of the box. there's no reason for me to despise this being. she looks perfect. almost, too perfect— just a little bit of tinkering, and she's good to go.

she is a perceptive person. similar to me, but with breathing. she always made her way out. i'd execute her if she stared into my soul. and claim her as a weapon of mine.

i'd show her my crooked smile, the being would smile back.

"it was never a painting, it was their visage. looking through your child with their soulless gaze. admiring the beautiful soul of your offspring." said the old lady. whom i saw from afar, she saw my silhouette, and she ran very far.

" ma? " asked the lass. mother answered, " yes? "

she trembles, eyes dart over the crevices of the dark room. sensing the ominous hall before the doors. " last night .. the painting started moving. "

i am well aware of what i am capable of. i am well aware of what i was doing. i am well aware of my plans and goals. i am who i am.

my family was cautious enough to tell their daughter about safety. as soon as mother knew, she began to find me. my shadow, my existence.

helena was shrouded in the icy, piercing sensation of metal that felt like daggers piercing their decaying skin, concealed from the world.

for someone of their calibre to coexist in such a realm—a living graveyard stepping foot on the underworld—was not unsettling. however, there is no question that the actual monsters are the ones who reside in the human realm.

being born into a renowned clan of grandeur, helena was an outcome of an unintended pregnancy. completely unaware of their identity and purpose, and was determined to accept their life's odds as a mistake despite their absurd actions.

crooked pupils that were touched with its black and white hue—a symbolism of grief. their skin pale, resembling a corpse, existence akin to the dead. there were strange structures covering every inch of their orbs. who would look at a man with such an abnormal gaze?

people will insult and vilify the young woman, even if it means risking their life; people leave a speck of blood on their body as a token of shame for living.

it was a strange sight to see them at such a young age having stepped foot in the underworld. their mother wouldn't even accept them for who they are, so their father took them. because as the family believe, helena does not belong in the place of mortals.

but the poor, poor demigod ended up in the care of an idealist parent. all helena wanted was their father's approval, and love, like everyone else. they would always believe that their father does everything-out of sincerity, and security.

her demeanour vividly expressed inquisitiveness. helena found it difficult to read their father, they will never know how he feels. nor what he thinks, she can’t read him at all.

" and you will be my greatest soldier, " he said. scraping their metal armour from her wretched body.

some assert that you shouldn't question someone with an underworld origin, especially if they were born for greatness, such as the entities tied to erebus. children follow instructions and develop into the finest individuals that everyone wants them to be. be someone who is deserving. helena had a lifelong need to feel worthy, but as they age, her consciousness resonates.

" eh. " i've been through worse.

i truly care too much. even when i worked up the confidence to even respond sternly to my father, i still feel terror eating at me. he knows that. he reads me very well.

however, i am without the pinnacle of my existence. it is not a living being-and yes, it's an object. my priced possession. my phantom. fantôme was once my sparring dummy.

" can i keep it? " " no, you may not. " " please? "

i possess the tenacity that allowed me to remain inseparable from fantôme. i don't know, maybe it was the eyes that lit a spark? 

honor my word. father had no choice; i must carry out my obligations. what i had in mind. because no one else could write my destiny but me.

i'm buried in research for my own ideas, looking for alternatives. puppets, marionettes, robots, automatons, and a growing number of systems. i relished every minute of my limited time spent seeking for remedies. 

i created my first mech while i was in my teens. it was fantôme's first mech design. i keep it beneath the forest of mount belis. i have a lair within the shadows, albeit demigods may not notice this. i do it as a line of work. for my cherished companion.