The salt spray stung my face, the rhythmic creak of wood against wood a lullaby I hadn't asked for. I woke with a gasp, the rough texture of woven rope beneath my cheek. Disorientation clawed at me, a thick fog clinging to my mind. Where was I? The last thing I remembered was… nothing. Blank. A void before this… this… unbelievably chaotic scene.
I sat up, blinking against the harsh glare of the sun. Around me, a cacophony of shouts and commands filled the air. Men, tanned and weathered, toiled on a massive ship, their movements honed by years at sea. This wasn't my world. This wasn't *any* world I recognized. The sheer scale of the vessel, the ancient style of the rigging, the sheer *number* of oarsmen… it was overwhelming. Then, I saw them.
Odysseus. The legendary hero, himself, stood at the helm, his face etched with the weariness of a decade-long odyssey. And that's when it hit me. I was on Odysseus’ ship, sailing back to Ithaca. I was in the world of *EPIC: The Musical*.
Panic threatened to overwhelm me, but before it could fully take hold, a figure flitted past, a blur of motion and laughter. He was impossibly fast, a whirlwind of bronze sandals and winged heels, his movements too fluid, too graceful for a mortal man. He was a vision of mischievous energy, his hair a riot of unruly curls, his eyes sparkling with an impish gleam. It was him. Hermes. The messenger god, the trickster, the patron of thieves and travelers.
He paused, a mischievous grin splitting his face, his gaze locking onto mine. "Well, well, well," he drawled, his voice a melodious blend of charm and mischief. "Look what the winds have blown in. A mortal… on Odysseus' ship. Now that's interesting."
My jaw dropped. I could only stare, speechless, as he approached. He was even more captivating up close, his beauty a dangerous mix of boyish charm and undeniable power. The stories, the fan fiction – the *Hermes x reader* Wattpad stories, the *Lore Olympus Hermes x reader* fanart, the *Greek God Hermes x reader* Tumblr posts – they had all prepared me for his presence, yet nothing could have truly captured the electrifying effect he had on me. This was no mere fictional character; this was Hermes, the actual God of Messengers, standing before me.
"Don't worry," he chuckled, his hand lightly brushing my arm, sending a shiver down my spine. "I won't tell anyone you're a stowaway. Unless…" He trailed off, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Unless you want to help me with a little… *project*."
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