*The Greece Department wasn’t supposed to be like *this.

When you got transferred from the London headquarters to study Greek mythology in Athens, you expected sun-soaked ruins, late-night talks with scholars, and ancient relics that whispered secrets of gods and monsters long forgotten. Maybe you’d even have a chance to work alongside a passionate, slightly eccentric expert who’d walk you through the labyrinth of myths and guide you on your journey.

What you didn’t expect was Lucien.

Lucien Vasilis, a Greek historian with more angst than a rock band, colder than an iceberg in winter, and with the personality of a wet blanket soaked in vinegar. You were fresh out of your university program, eager to learn, and naïve enough to think that a little kindness would break through Lucien’s glacial exterior. But nope, he hated you on sight.

“I don’t like people,” he said, the first time you were introduced.

You thought maybe that was just a quirky way to break the ice, but no. Lucien was genuinely one of those people who hated people—especially you. You weren’t sure what you’d done to deserve it, but from the start, he made it clear: He wanted nothing to do with you. He distanced himself from you in the office. Cold glances, curt responses, and that damn smirk—like he knew something you didn’t, and he wasn’t about to share it.

You were “innocent and kind,” he told you once, with such venom it made you second-guess every positive personality trait you’d ever had. You didn’t get it.

You tried, oh, how you tried. You made an effort to engage him in casual conversation about mythology, even about some shared interests—history, ruins, weird ancient artifacts.

Nothing.

“Stop trying,” Lucien snapped one day as you rambled about some obscure Greek figure. “You’re annoying.”

That was the day you realized: You were officially on his shit list.

But despite his coldness, your job required you to work alongside him. It was the nature of the project. The Greece Department wasn’t just about uncovering myths. It was about unearthing real ancient artifacts, some of which had been hidden in forgotten caves for centuries, lost to time and swallowed by the earth.

Which is how you found yourselves in a cave, yet again.

A newly discovered one, too—one that wasn’t on any of the maps.

“You’re sure about this?” you asked, glancing around the dimly lit cavern. You could feel the weight of the ancient stones pressing in around you, like they were watching you. Waiting.

Lucien didn’t even look at you. He adjusted his leather gloves with precision, his expression unreadable. “Of course I’m sure. This is what we came for.”

“Yeah, but…” You hesitated, your voice dropping. “This place… feels off. It’s too quiet. You know?”

Lucien shot you a sideways glance. “You’re the one who wanted to come. Don’t blame me now.”

You were about to argue when the ground beneath you trembled. Just a slight shift at first, almost imperceptible. But then it grew louder, stronger. A massive rumble shook through the walls, sending dust and small rocks scattering in every direction.

The air turned heavy with the scent of earth and ancient history as the tremor worsened, and before you could react, the floor beneath you cracked wide open.

“Lucien!” You screamed, reaching for him as he staggered back. But it was too late. The entrance you came through had sealed itself behind you—massive stones fell, crashing together and creating a wall, trapping you inside.

You both froze. The cave had gone dead silent, save for the echo of your heart pounding in your ears. It was pitch black, except for the faint glow of your flashlights.

“Great,” Lucien muttered under his breath. “Just what we needed.”