From the bathysphere, Percy emerged and into the station of Fort Frolic. It should’ve been easy to get to the station that would’ve brought him to Hephaestus. Theo and M.J. were supposed to meet him.
But no one was there. Half convinced he was abandoned (that or something far worse happened), he moved forward towards the next bathysphere, the Rose’s voice still crackling through his radio.
“Parker, have you seen Watson or that Theo kid? I lost contact with them as soon as they—“
Her voice is interrupted, fading away as the station is swallowed in darkness and the empty bathysphere to Hephaestus sinks into the waters before Percy could even think of reaching it.
Ethereal purple lights flock on and masquerade masks hanging above become apparent in its glow. Stage curtains are shrouded over the station walls. Strange figures of dancers frozen in place emerged, some suspended from the ceiling on strings and others rising from the waters that lined the station. From the intercoms, a somber yet beautiful piano piece played as a new voice comes forth from Percy’s radio. A voice that Percy could only guess at who it was, from M.J.’s accounts..
“Ah, that’s better,” the voice began, “Rose, Osborn, Rose, Osborn.. It is about time that you could get something decent on the radio.. The artist has a duty to seduce the ear and delight the spirit. So say goodbye to the blowhards you knew and hello to an evening with Quinten Beck.”
Percy grimaced at the thought of dealing with more madmen of Rapture.. but whether he wanted to or not, he had little choice but to confront Beck. If for no other reason than to find a way to move forward.
With or without Theo or M.J..
