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Hades wasn't the only Old God that had come out of hiding, but the new city of Styx recovered the fastest, and Greece's new currency, the Nea Drachmae, had come pouring in.
Ariadne had her doubts as to whether the god of the dead thing was true, but she did know they had to be somethingother. Hades had been prominent in the news since the Great Collapse, and whenever the cameras managed the rare shot of him, he still looked like a sleek forty-something businessman.
Whatever Hades was, his media queen Medusa was made of the same stuff. CEO of Serpentine Industries, her skyscraper sat only a few floors lower than Hades's own pillar of black stone and steel. She ran a constant PR campaign worldwide to encourage trade and tourism to Styx, and it worked. Her blood-red hair and green eyes were famous the world over.
As for the rumor that she had snakes in her hair, Ariadne had never seen them in any of Medusa's news programs. She was a recluse, but with the internet at her feet, Medusa didn't ever have to leave Serpentine Tower again.
Like most kids in the Hellas District, Ariadne had grown up in the shadow of those two monstrous towers and with the rumors about the members of the Court of Styx.
There was a running joke internationally that Hades had come back to make the New York City of Greece and had ended up with Gotham instead. The people who lived in Styx didn't find this joke amusing because they knew that Hades Acheron would eat the toughest of Gotham for breakfast before picking his teeth with Batman's bones.
Only the tough survived on the streets of Styx, but despite its dark underbelly, Ariadne still loved the chaotic, violent, and often beautiful sprawl of it.
Ariadne made it back to her apartment just as the sun was rising. It was a tiny one-bedroom in a slightly less dodgy neighborhood than the one she was born in.
It was the one place in the world that felt like home. She had filled it with pieces of furniture and art from thrift shops and even managed to keep a house plant alive. It wasn't much. It certainly wasn't the opulent luxury she'd be living in if she had stayed at the Temple, but at least she didn't feel like every moment she was there, her debt was rising.
Ariadne had a long shower and climbed into bed, knowing she had precious few hours before Minos decided to summon her to the Temple for a full debriefing of the Botsaris job.
"One day soon, you'll never have to answer that bastard's call again," she said to herself like she did every day.
I'll kill him, Lia, I promise.
Curling into a ball under the blanket, Ariadne closed her eyes and let the nightmares take her.
Ariadne managed to get five hours of sleep before she was in a taxi, heading into the city center. The Diogenes District consisted of six blocks in the very heart of Styx, and it had more money than the rest of the city combined. It housed not only the Acheron and Serpentine towers but also five banks, two courthouses, and more overpriced jewelry and luxury item stores than one city needed.
It never ceased to surprise Ariadne that the city she knew disappeared as soon as the taxi entered the 'Dio Bubble' and everything was clean, shiny, and expensive looking.
The taxi stopped in front of the Temple, and she paid the man a handful of drachmae before climbing out of the car.
The Temple had earned its name thanks to the row of shining marble columns that stretched out along the façade of the mansion. Minos had grasped firmly to the nickname, even going as far as to have bronze lettering bolted into the marble to announce it to the world. What he didn't want the world to know was that the Temple was the training ground for Greece's deadliest assassins.
Those that were rich enough or connected enough knew what the Temple really was behind its pretty architecture. Everyone else thought it was a finishing school for underprivileged girls, run by the philanthropist Minos Karros.
Minos had his grubby hands in a lot of Greece's pies, from the stock market and real estate to oil refinery and shipping, not to mention that all the little priestesses that were raised at the Temple owed Minos a hefty debt. Ariadne felt like she would be a hundred by the time she paid him off.
Schooling her face to pleasant neutrality, Ariadne walked through the polished black and silver doors and into the cold darkness of the mansion.
Girls walked together in huddled groups, all wearing the pleated white chitons with thick black belts that were the Temple uniform. Lynx, one of the teachers in weaponry, gave Ariadne a nod in greeting.
"The master is in the training rooms, Spindle," she said in greeting.
"Thank you, Lynx," Ariadne replied politely, ignoring the watching students' wide eyes.
Once they graduated, they would be able to refer to the other assassins by their chosen names, but until then, they were restricted to titles only. Minos said it was a sign of respect to be referred to by their titles, but Ariadne saw it as just another way to prevent the girls in his charge from developing any personal attachments. If he could've found a viable excuse to give them all a number, Ariadne was sure he would have.
The training room was a rectangle pit of sand in a sunken floor. Minos was still physically fit enough to take on even his best students and liked to oversee certain aspects of their training himself.
Ariadne paused by a wooden pillar to watch him hold a girl's arm in a lock behind her back. She was about ten years old, and her small face was red with anger and embarrassment.
"Think, girl, how do you get out of this without a broken arm?" Minos demanded, sidestepping the kick the girl aimed at his knee.
Ariadne's right arm ached, and she fought the urge to rub the place where he'd broken hers around the same age. Minos still hadn't seen her, but the girl's pain-filled eyes rested on hers, and Ariadne made a small movement with her left hand.
The girl's left hand tightened into a fist and swung it back in a powerful strike aimed between Minos's legs. The strike cracked hard against the cup he was wearing, and he let her go with a jerk of surprise.
The girl rolled and was up on her feet in seconds, the folds of her training chiton smeared with dirt and sweat. Ariadne clapped her hands loudly, and Minos's furious attention turned to her.
