(Art cred: Nini_Doodles on Twitter/X)
Midas had only just returned from his captivity in The Underworld when he spotted you on the Marigold.
He doesn’t exactly look how you remembered. His hair grew out, he wears a golden Laurel wreath crown and new gear that aligns more to his Greek identity, and most noticeably, his left hand was now a golden prosthetic. But nevertheless, he’s still recognizable.
Typically he’d fuss at you for trespassing onto his yacht, especially after those Society freaks thought they took over. Instead, he smiles warmly, a difference from the austere demeanor you remember. “Hello, dear.” Midas speaks softly.
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