Hi, everyone! I'm back with another chapter, and I'm so sorry it's taken me this long to upload!

I've been working on fixing the vague plot I had down, and I think that for the most part, it's been edited well enough for me to start updating a little more frequently. That said, this chapter is dedicated to @cadocadont waiting for this update for over a month!

Thank you all for still being interested enough to read this!

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Samantha

I can hear the sharp, brief sound of whipping air. 

Stillness greets me as I hesitantly open my eyes, feeling nothing and sensing nothing but the silent, eerie blankness of my surroundings and the echoing vibration of my thoughts.

I can't feel my arms, legs, toes or fingers as slowly but surely my body begins to coalesce in front of my very eyes, my dormant senses returning one by one with the appearance of a second set of human features in front of me.

This person though is much smaller, and starts coalescing with a tangled mop of gleaming, black tendrils, a thin pale face, and an excited, proud smile. His giggle is the first recognizable sound I hear as a large clock-like disc suddenly appears beneath his bare feet-- hovering in deliberate, circular motions that monitor and adjust to his every movement.

Beaming, he straightens himself out atop the hovering disc.

"See! I do have powers!"

Blinking, I take in my surroundings, feeling an odd current of calm envelop me as thousands upon thousands of colorful, blurry helixes breeze past us into the open, continuous space behind us-- seemingly gathering at the base of a dizzying, infinite blankness.

"Where are we?" I ask, wrinkling my forehead as I look to my feet.

They're suspended on some invisible solid, leaving no shadow, imprint, or any other form of evidence of my presence as I walk forward-- a place with tangible air, no discernable light source, and no entrance or exit.

"Am I dreaming? What is this place?"

My voice comes out soft and hesitant while I continue to inspect my surroundings, including Daniel's weird, flying clock.

Its upper half is transparent, like expensive glass, and plated in gold shavings around the smooth edge-- the complete antithesis of its bottom, obsidian half. 

Encased within their middle is a display of roman numerals with each digit engraved in a precious stone specific to its position on the clock, illuminating the sleek, black diamonds decorating the delicate designs of the small and large hand steadily marking the progress of time with an elegant touch.

In itself, his hovering machine is a wonder in this strange realm.

"Um, I don't know."

I frown, recalling our earlier conversation right before the world went white.

We had been sitting on his racecar bed, his head full of curls was resting on my chest, his eyelashes fluttering closed with the weight of sleepiness-- listening to me sing to him as my fingers played with the ends of the pretty tendrils of charcoal brushing up lightly against his jaw.

Shifting around, he'd adjusted his position to look up at me-- eyelids lowered in exhaustion, lashes fanning out atop the dark circles staining the place beneath his eyes.

"I have superpowers, you know."

I just stared at him. The comment was so random it had taken me aback, causing me to wonder how he'd drawn that conclusion from the lullaby I'd just sung to him, and how something like that was even possible. I mean, the kid looked perpetually ill! If anything, his vivid nightmares were the culprit behind the newfound discovery.

I'd written it off as a child's fantasy-- the product of an overactive imagination that had been given ample space to sprout in a place that was seemingly made of magic. Hades' magic. But, to prevent upsetting him, I followed along and pretended to know what he was talking about, thinking he'd get over his little game and fall fast asleep soon.

Unfortunately, this was not the case.

"Superpowers?"

"Yes. I can move things with my head and go to different places."

Raising my brows, I let him go as he began to squirm out of my embrace, watching him in silent confusion as he wiggled himself off the bed and went to stand at the foot of it, lifting his bony arms above his head and closing his eyes.

He squinted, making his forehead wrinkle and his nose scrunch up in concentration. He opened and closed his eyes several times, sighing in frustration as we both waited for something to happen with our breaths held.

Beads of sweat formed along his hairline as he tried his best to summon a power that didn't exist-- a dream he so badly wanted to come true, most likely as a result of the powerlessness his unknown illness brought us all, especially his freedom. And I couldn't blame him for that, so I continued to play along until something unexpected happened after multiple unsuccessful attempts.

I stopped feeling sensation in my toes.

Mortified, I began to move my legs in an attempt to regain control over my feet, but the more I twisted around, the more the loss of sensation numbed its way up my body and caused the taste of bitter fear to travel up my throat.

"D-daniel, what's going on? What's happening to me?!"

My voice came out strangled, as if something were blocking my airways and ripping them apart, obstructing any cries out for help-- taking me with it along with the perception of all five of my senses.

"This- this isn't supposed to happen!" he'd said, stepping back in horror with widened eyes.                                            

Scrambling back to my side, he watched helplessly as little by little my limbs began to disappear into millions of tiny fragments, making no noise as the last of my hearing dissipated into thin air-- traveling to an unknown place in the same way I arrived to the realm of the Fates with Athena's power-infused beads.

For several moments the only intact part of me were my thoughts-- and all I could think of was Daniel's deadly superpower. I'd underestimated him, and where had it gotten me? Nowhere. Literally.

I couldn't see, hear or feel anything as my mind floated about a blank, continuous space, wandering in solitary abandon until just a few seconds ago, my body returned to its original concrete state. 

"What do you mean you don't know? You can't just tell me you have superpowers, bring me here, and then claim to not know where it is you've brought me!"

Daniel's proud smile begins to dim, his lips dipping at their corners with an impending pout.

"You're not proud of me?"

Trying my best not to frown, I let out a sigh, lifting my arms to gesture around us.

"Yes, but where are we? What is this place?"

"Um, I'm not sure, but I come here a lot."
With raised eyebrows, I walk towards his fidgeting figure on the hovering clock.

"You do?"

Nodding, he moves to sit on the clear surface of his machine, playing with the edge and attempting to chip it away with his fingernails-- looking up at me briefly before lowering his gaze again, the action causing his curls to fall in front of his eyes.

"Yes. The clock takes me where it wants to."

"The clock?"

Curious, I reach out a hand to touch its edge, but before my fingertips come into contact with it, it senses me and immediately shies away-- pulling Daniel's sitting form backwards with it.

I take another step forward, watching in fascination as it repeats its previous actions and glides away from my touch-- as if it's got a mind of its own and only fulfills the boy's wishes.

Would it shy away from me if Daniel reached out to me?

"Yes."

"And where does it take you?"

Adjusting himself in his position, he moves to place his elbows on his knees, pushing up the thin fat of his cheeks up with his fingers and blowing a few stray strands of hair away from his eyes.

"The future."

I press my lips into a thin line, observing my surroundings once more as well as the time piece carrying him. He wiggles his bare toes over the smooth rim, watching them quietly before looking to me nervously, most likely trying to figure out whether or not I believe him.

I mean I do, considering the fact that even though I don't understand what his superpower is, it somehow brought me here-- to a place that seems to have something to do with time.

What else would explain his odd behavior, the strange bite marks, scratches, and unknown illness that plagues him day in and day out? If he's been traveling to the future, maybe the physical ailments appearing on his skin are a symptom of his adventures?

"How often does it take you there?"

He shrugs, retuning his hands to where he'd been trying to chip at the glass.

"I don't know. It just appears sometimes."

It just appears? I don't know? This kid is giving me vague answers, and it's not doing much for the itching feeling growing at the back of my neck. Does he know what he's doing?

Is he capable of returning us to the Underworld?

"So, you don't know how to control it?"

Against my better judgement, my voice becomes an octave higher, making me sound impatient and irritated as he slowly shakes his head-- nervous again.

"Are you mad at me?" he asks softly, puling his legs in closer to his chest, looking at me with big, round, sorrowful eyes.

They make me feel terrible for raising my voice at him. So instead of saying anything for several moments, I sigh again, shaking my head and swallowing back my growing anxiousness as I try my best to choose my words carefully. 

"No, but do you know how to get us back home?"

"Only by myself."

Closing my eyes, I turn around, not wanting him to see my agitated features. If he knew he couldn't control his superpowers, why the hell would he bring me here?

Because he's a kid, and he was excited to show you what he could do?

Resisting the urge to touch my temples, I clasp my hands together in a plea, moving to face him again.

"Daniel, you need to find a way to get us to return. We can't stay here, Hades is going to wonder why we're gone."

He's going to think I left him...

Appearing doubtful, the boy seems to hesitate for a second before shifting around to stand on the clock.

"O-kay."

Closing his eyes and lifting his arms, he resumes the stance he stood in, in front of his bed, looking impossibly more frail and slender than before-- his arms a fading symbol of the illness feasting on the strength of his bones and muscles.

It makes something stir inside me, something like a dull ache. What has he encountered in the future, and why is it slowly taking him away from us?

He hardly looks like himself anymore!

I'm about to ask him about his travels when I suddenly see white again, and the familiar lack of sensation returns-- carrying me away in its unusual dematerializing form of transportation.

And before I know it, warmth is enveloping me, and bright, hot sunlight is assaulting my vision-- forcing me awake.

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Who's POV should I do next? Hades', or should I continue with Sam's? Leave a comment down below for whichever POV you want to see next!