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Chapter Text

Things were good. 

After twenty years of endless bloodshed and war, things were good. 

As good as they could be. 

Odysseus was at home, alas, after all his sufferings. Matter of fact, everything went uphill after his return– perhaps the peace was interrupted, but all for worthwhile causes. 

He arrived on the Ithacan shores, slaughtering the vile men who dared to fathom laying hands on his wife and son, all while setting a precedent. 

He reunited with said wife and son, getting the end of the bargain he paid in blood and flesh. It was everything he could’ve imagined– harmonious, reminiscent, home.  

He uttered the words he held so dearly to his soul to the souls that he conned, giving him the closure he so desperately yearned for. 

All six hundred of his men came back to life, ascending from the stilled sea right by his eyes on the shore. 

While Athena attempted to give her life for it, both sides of the scale were pardoned– perhaps, and hopefully, his last adventurous tribulation of bravery that involved the gods. 

After twenty years of hectic mess, he could finally rest– 

Or not. 

After years of relentless and persistent waiting, Penelope could finish weaving her shroud. While it brought back unwanted memories of the blind masquerade she danced with the suitors, holding them off for as long as she physically could, it also resembled... hope. Her shroud was her hope, waiting for Odysseus to wash ashore. 

Alas, he did. 

She put the finished work up with Ctimene and Telemachus, a sense of pride filling her. This shroud was a daily reminder of the hardships they endured to, yet again, come back together. 

After hanging it in the hallway of their bedroom, their visions began to blur, tones shifting into one another, and– 

Darkness. 

Odysseus, Polites, and Eurylochus stood proudly at the bow of their ship, all six hundred men alive and well. Looking back at the shrinking land of Troy, the men couldn’t help but allow their triumphant exuberance to rush over them. 

“Full speed ahead!” the men collectively chanted, rowing vigorously. Ithaca was only six days away– they would be home in no time. 

Right. 

Right? 

Out of the blue, the seas amalgamated with the sky, saturating and losing opacity, as all three men are engulfed with unconsciousness. 

Athena didn’t understand. 

She was normally good at this sort of thing– understanding. Dissect the event into either a chronological or logical sequence, analyse each piece of information, and evaluate it. 

Something about forgiveness and Odysseus was... incoherent. All the answers were in front of her– except the lines of both sides blurred together, a moral mess of ambiguity and contradictions. 

Maybe... it wasn’t about understanding. 

Maybe... 

Before she could finish that train of thought, an unexpected void inundated her into a blackout. 

... 

The parched, arid atmosphere offered little breeze, like a mist of realisation hovering over his brain. 

Hamilton, who was known for his thinking. 

Hamilton, who was done with thinking. 

He had put on his glasses, eyeing an unfazed Burr that glared back at him ambiguously. He was gambling his life, flipping a coin and... 

He was willing to accept either outcome. 

For all of Burr’s life, he waited for it. He hid behind the bushes and observed from afar for years, spectating the chess game of politics from a distance. 

He never played. 

Here, this was it. 

They were kings on a chessboard, their guns pawns staring at one another. There was an opportunity for either pawn to promote into a lethal queen, unafraid to decimate the board. There was an opportunity for either pawn to stay a pawn, timid and unwilling, waiting for the perfect time to strike. 

There was also the opportunity for a stalemate. 

This way, no one would die. 

Burr, his first friend, his enemy– all his life, he waited for it. 

Would he wait for it? 

They were put to their paces, both of the men unwilling to acknowledge their wrongs. The countdown trickled through their brains, the poison seeping in. 

One.  

All it took was one shot to stop this poison. 

Two.  

One shot. 

Three.  

Was he going to throw away his shot? 

Four.  

He had one shot– and this one shot was going to dictate... 

Five.  

Everything. 

Six.  

Eliza was waiting for him. His children were waiting for him. 

Seven.  

Was Burr waiting for him? 

Eight.  

Burr would wait for it. 

Nine.  

Hamilton would throw away his shot. 

Ten–  

Oblivion consumed them. 

The war was over. 

The grim vision of bodies plagued the streets, but it no longer felt like a loss. Nothing could. Against all odds, a surprise to all... 

The revolutionaries won. 

They were free. 

The aftermath, however, was no surprise. As per usual, before and after each enormous event, they had to drink till they dropped. They triumphed so hard that even Burr and Washington joined them. 

Except, before they could each touch the alcohol, a peculiar tenebrosity succumbed them. 

Eliza was helpless. 

The wedding day was the best day of her life, a kind of force that perhaps even the Lord gave them a taste of. It was truly... phenomenal. There was no better word, no single word to describe this kind of jubilation. 

Two weeks ago, she met Alexander Hamilton. Two weeks later, he was her everything. Alongside her sister, Angelica, their love was unstoppable– everything was perfect, perfect, and simply perfect.  

Maybe it was a wave of ecstasy or a tad too much of tipsiness, as the next thing she knew... her surroundings moulded into black. 

Damnit, Hamilton was annoying. 

This goddamn immigrant seemed to only be able to run his mouth. He had nothing benevolent to say for the nation he allegedly cared for, his feigned patriotic persona just a facade for his own greed for a legacy. It was dissatisfying, that smug smirk that would never fail to plaster his face. 

If only Jefferson could wipe it right off– 

And today, he could. 

He, along with Madison and Burr, planned to give him a run for his money. It was finally time to put Hamilton in his place– 

But before they could, just approaching Madison, a strange pitch-black vision took them out. 

King George was livid. 

Stupid little America was rebelling against him. Freedom? Quite laughable. 

He sat atop his throne, in a deep muse, before the articulated patterns ornated on his tapestries and walls shifted into one colour– black. 

... 

All members awoke simultaneously, vibrant colours focusing into consciousness. 

“Hello!” a disembodied voice chimed, coming from two... whatever those were in the corner. Speakers. “To put it simply, you’re here to watch two shows. Musicals, they call them. One correlates to half of you lot, the other one correlates to the other half. Don’t ask how you got here, you won’t get an answer. You’ll be stuck here for the next six-ish hours. Others will pop in when necessary. Deal with it.” 

The room was... extremely futuristic, to say the least. There was a large, rectangular... block? Television. Whatever it was, it stuck on the wall securely. They were all seated on comfortable seats, couches, in a semicircle arch shape, divided by their respective familiarities. 

Interesting, Hamilton thought, unfazed by the fact that they were all collectively abducted. The people that sat opposite them were dressed in what looked like ancient Greek attire– though not in costume, as if... 

That wasn’t possible, right? 

Odysseus glanced right back at them. They were in much tighter attire, very much unlike their usual chitons and himations– or armoury, for that matter. 

It made no sense– he saw... himself? A younger version of him, at least of a decade, flanked by Eurylochus and Polites who also looked younger. What really sold it were the bold smiles on their faces and the fruitful conversation they were still engrossed in. 

Across the room at the end of the arch was Athena, who was looking into no one’s proximity. He was hoping she could turn to him to get a good look of her face– whether she was set before or after God Games. 

This didn’t even remotely surprise him. After all, in the previous week, he not only spoke to the dead, but the dead returned. 

Meanwhile, Hamilton was startled by a replica of himself next to his old friends. Lafayette, Hercules– 

Laurens? 

This was some twisted dream. He heard the bullet from Burr’s gun– this was meant to be the end of him. 

Right. 

Right? 

“Uh,” Odysseus cut through the awkward silence, looking over to the other side of the room. “Should we go around and address names? Maybe it’ll be a little clearer what’s going on here, because my theory is we’re all from different timelines. Don’t ask, things are a bit disorganised with these external activities.” 

Everyone on Hamilton’s side looked sceptical, keen to question, but they kept their perplexities to themselves. Starting from Washington, who sat on the far right, he began the chain reaction. “George Washington.” 

“Thomas Jefferson.” He was unimpressed, crossing his arms and raising a sly brow. 

“James Madison.” Perhaps equally as unimpressed, though his expression was unreadable. 

“Aaron Burr,” Aaron muttered. 

“Je m’apelle Lafayette!” When the Greeks’ faces responded in confusion, he corrected himself. “Ah, just Lafayette works.” 

“Hercules Mulligan,” he smiled, exchanging a grin with Lafayette. 

“John Laurens,” John continued the chain. 

“Alexander Hamilton!” Alexander’s smile quickly faded when he read the solemnity on his older self’s face, merely a few seats away. He was initially tempted to bombard him with questions about the future, but decided to wait until later. Whatever this strange magical timeline shit was, he wasn’t complaining. 

“Eliza Schuyler Hamilton now,” Eliza beamed, leaning on Alexander’s arm lovingly. 

“Angelica Schuyler,” the sister added. 

“King George the Third,” the king frowned, unhappy to be here. 

“Aaron Burr as well,” Burr scowled, ignoring both Hamiltons in the room. “I’ll be Burr, and he,” he gestured to Aaron, “can be Aaron for this... outing.” 

“An older Alexander Hamilton.” Hamilton continued, assessing the room– everywhere but Burr’s eyes. “Like what Burr said, call the younger one Alexander and call me Hamilton for differentiation purposes.” 

The room nodded in agreement. 

That was the end of their sequence, as Odysseus started to introduce his side. 

“Odysseus. And we’ll call younger me Ody, I suppose,” Odysseus said– 

“Wait, Odysseus as in, the Odysseus, King of Ithaca? Like in the myths?” Alexander excitedly asked, his eyes lighting up with intrigue. 

Odysseus tilted his head. “What do you mean?” 

“Oh shit,” Alexander perpetuated, “so we’re like, three thousand years into the future. You’re all apart of books and stuff, Greek Mythology. This all makes sense I–” he pointed to Athena, “you’re the Goddess of Wisdom!” 

“That I am,” Athena humoured curtly. 

“Damn that’s cool,” he beamed, representing his inner studious self. “Sorry, continue.” 

Penelope picked the introductions back up. “I’m Penelope, his queen.” 

Telemachus beamed, “Telemachus! The uh, Prince of Ithaca.” 

Younger Odysseus shot him an excited smile. He had grown so much. 

“Ctimene.” 

“Eurylochus.” The man subconsciously leaned against his wife, even though they seemed to be separated by years. 

Polites fixed his glasses. “Polites!” 

“Well, Odysseus obviously, but yeah, Ody works.” He dared to look up at Athena, who didn’t look in their direction at all. She didn’t even flinch, no movement whatsoever. Whatever... that, meant. 

“You know my name,” Athena concluded. 

The disembodied voice returned. “Good. Yes, Alexander, you would be correct– one half of the room is set around 1600-1200BCE, during the Mycenaean Bronze Age. I know the Greeks don’t have years yet, but just to put it in perspective, the... we’ll say the Americans since most of you all are, are around the years 1776-1804AD. So, yeah– three millennia apart, give or take.” 

The voice gave them a few seconds to let the time difference sink in. 

“You’ll be watching two musicals,” they continued, “which are theatrical performances with a storyline that is sung. We have Epic the Musical, which will be displayed in the visual form of animations– I’m not explaining that. You’ll see. I’m in the year 2025. Things have upgraded. Don’t ask. The other musical is called... actually, you'll find out who it's about. That one is performed.” 

Without giving them time to inquire, the block glowed up, big words showing on the screen. 

The Horse and the Infant.  

Chapter Text

[ODYSSEUS]

Alright, my brothers, listen closely  

It was Eurylochus who spoke, mainly to his two crew members. “Ah, good old Troy– felt like ages ago, even if the war just finished yesterday.” 

If only it were years ago, Ody thought, grimly glancing down at his empty hands. They could never be empty again, tainted by the blood of warfare and hardheartedness. 

It was strange, really. He had no problem with the premeditated slaughtering of myriads of Trojans in their sleep, but when it came to an infant, one single infant, his morality flipped. 

The way he smiled. 

The way his eyes lit up. 

The way he... was.  

All he could see in those innocent eyes were his son’s– eternally the eyes that haunt his memories. 

Tonight, we make the Trojans pay  

Meanwhile, Odysseus peered over at his younger self. There was an unparalleled, uncontrollable fusion of anger, of pity, of nostalgia, of... everything. 

He was mad at the brash decisions he was soon to make. 

He was pitiful for the hardship he had yet to endure. 

He was nostalgic, perhaps missing the man he once was. 

Ten years of war, they've killed us slowly  

But now we'll be the ones who slay  

“So,” Alexander mused, “this is the great Trojan War, am I right? And this is you planning to kill them in their sleep?” 

Ody nodded, darting over the way his older self turned away dismissively. “Correct.” 

“I must admit,” Alexander continued, “the wooden horse was not a bad idea.” 

“I mean it worked pretty well– not to mention,” Polites shrugged, commending his captain indirectly, “all six hundred of the men under his command survived Troy. We won the war and remained unscathed. I think Ody deserves a little more than not bad.” 

The war has barely started for you, Odysseus bit back, eventually deciding against interference. 

“Oh, don’t flatter me, Polites,” Ody beamed, “but if you really must...” 

“Please stop flirting and let’s resume the uh, thing,” Eurylochus interjected. 

“We’re not flir–” 

Think of your wives and your children  

“Yeah Ody,” Eurylochus chuckled, “think about your wife and son.” 

“Hey!” Ody rolled his eyes. “That was hardly flirtatious. We’re all friends here. Plus, Penelope doesn’t mind. Right, Penelope?” He looked over at the older version of his wife, who returned a thoughtless glance. She was too busy comforting what looked like a slightly distressed Odysseus, seemingly dissociating, than to entertain meaningless allegations that didn’t actually surface. 

On the contrary, Burr gave a curt, internal insult to Hamilton with that line, considering his affairs. Someone sure didn’t think about his wife and his children. It was petty, perhaps, but nothing could be inherently pettier than two full-grown men requiring a duel to diminish a dispute. 

Your families wonder where you've been  

They're growing old and yet you're still here  

Do what I say, and you'll see them again (yessir!)  

About that, Odysseus refrained from impulsively mentioning. 

Diomedes will lead the charge  

Agamemnon will flank the guards  

Menelaus will let our mates  

Through the gates to take the whole city at large  

Teucer will shoot any ambush attack  

And little Ajax will stay back  

Nestor, secure Helen and protect her  

Neo, avenge your father, kill the brothers of Hector (yes, sir!)  

“You are quite inspiring, mon ami,” Lafayette complimented Ody, who offered a kind smile back. “The fast pacing is just how I like it. It brings the motivation.” 

“Thanks!” Ody replied. All Odysseus could do was count the number of egocentric comments his younger self attained before that very ego caused his downfall. Perhaps he was looking too far into it– so what? Of all activities, watching a theatrical recount of his shameful life was not on his to-do list. 

Find that inner strength now (woo!)  

Use that well of pride (woo!)  

Pride. 

Hearing that word made him feel sick. 

Maybe it was just one of those days, Odysseus tried to convince himself. It wasn’t working. 

And to think he was beginning to approach some kind of peace. 

What a distant hope. 

Fight through every pain now (woo!)  

Ask yourself inside  

What do you live for? What do you try for?  

What do you wish for? What do you fight for?  

(What do you live for? What do you try for?)  

(What do you wish for? What do you fight for?)  

“Reminds me of Yorktown,” Alexander commented to his fellow revolutionaries. “Everything happened so quickly that we haven’t really stopped to comprehend it.” 

“Y’don’t say,” Hercules replied. 

Penelope  

Odysseus found some comfort in the chasm he was stuck in, leaning on Penelope’s shoulder. That was the one thing that remained consistent in his life– his motivation. 

Meanwhile, Eliza peered over at a preoccupied Alexander, wondering if he had the same running mantra in his war. 

Penelope  

And Telemachus  

“That’s me!” Telemachus whistled enthusiastically, bopping his head with the war cries.

I fight for us  

I fight for us  

(What do you live for?) Penelope  

(What do you try for?) Telemachus  

(What do you wish for?) I'm on my way  

(What do you fight for?) Attack!  

There was division in the room– some faces lit up in excitement at the warfare, others grimaced and shied away from the sight. 

Others were grateful that this was depicted in some artistic sequence. It was quite visually appealing for the most part, perhaps an art style of the future. 

Who was that?  

Zeus, Ody, Odysseus, and Athena simultaneously reflected. Such a name evoked very different feelings for all three of them, yet they all converged at the same intersection– they were mostly negative feelings. 

[ZEUS]

A vision  

Of what is to come, cannot be outrun  

Can only be dealt with right here and now  

“Is that Zeus?” Alexander inquired, recalling his mythology studies. 

Eurylochus raised an eyebrow. “You spoke to Zeus? Like, god-king Zeus?” 

Ody tentatively nodded, ashamed of the very much reminiscent content that was soon to show on the screen. “Unfortunately. Please don’t judge me too harshly for what you’ll see,” he directed to the unaware half of the room. 

Alexander could vaguely construct what this judgement would come from, but he was uncertain. 

The flaw of fame was that they all saw your mistakes. 

He never sought fame. He sought peace. 

Hamilton was quite the opposite.  

[ODYSSEUS]

Tell me how  

[ZEUS]

I don't think you're ready  

A mission to kill someone's son  

Alexander chimed, “Oh shit, is that Hector’s son?” 

The reluctant flick of a nod from Ody was plenty of evidence. 

“Oh, shit.” 

A foe who won't run  

Unlike anyone you have faced before  

[ODYSSEUS]

Say no more  

I know that I'm ready

[ZEUS & ENSEMBLE]

I don't think you're ready

While it was one of the less grim parts of his journey, he would forever be haunted by it. This was the start of his whole dilemma between mercy and ruthlessness, how the price of peace was war. He could slay those who deserved it, but not those who were defenceless– the infant did nothing wrong, except be born into such a family. 

Life really wasn’t fair, was it? 

The image of the infant sunk into the audience, and it was Angelica who spoke. 

“You’re going to kill a baby?” she asked, coherently unimpressed. 

“I–” Ody tried to defend himself, but no words came out. The guilt was all too fresh– he couldn’t bear the heart to possibly justify his actions. Expecting Angelica to give him some verbal lashing, another voice clocked in. 

“He didn’t have much of a choice,” Penelope objected, crossing her arms. “I’m guessing you’ll see why. It was an infant or his family.” 

[ODYSSEUS]

It's just an infant  

It's just a boy  

What sort of imminent threat does he pose that I cannot avoid?  

[ZEUS]

This is the son of none other than Troy's very own Prince Hector  

Know that he will grow from a boy to an avenger  

One fuelled with rage as you're consumed by age  

If you don't end him now, you'll have no one left to save  

“Oh, I see,” Angelica clarified, still aloof. After all, the baby did no wrong. 

Washington spoke this time, more apologetic if anything. “Difficult decisions must be made in war. That’s just the harsh reality.” 

Ody didn’t humour his comment. Deep down, however, he knew the man was right. 

You can say goodbye to (Penelope)  

You can say goodbye to (Penelope)  

[ODYSSEUS]

I could raise him as my own

[ZEUS]

He will burn your house and throne

[ODYSSEUS]

Or send him far away from home

[ZEUS]

He'll find you wherever you go

[ODYSSEUS]

Make sure his past is never known

[ZEUS]

The gods will make him know

“At least you care,” John interpolated, noticing the distress Ody attempted to hold back. “A lot of men don’t. You were given an impossible choice. Sacrifices must be made. Whatever happens to this baby, it was barely your fault.” 

Jefferson shrugged, alas speaking, to Hamilton’s dismay. “To me, it just seems like the gods don’t give a flying shit about you.” 

“That would be the kindest way to put it,” Odysseus muttered, causing a few turning heads. A sense of trepidation filled Ody– what other problems would come up in the waves ahead? 

[ODYSSEUS]

I'd rather bleed for ya, down on my knees for ya

[ZEUS & ENSEMBLE]

He's bringing you down on your knees for ya

[ODYSSEUS]

I'm begging please

[ZEUS]

Oh, this is the will of the gods

[ODYSSEUS]

Please don't make me do this, don't make me do this  

[ZEUS]

The blood on your hands is something you won't lose  

All you can choose is whose  

“Oh, Ody,” Polites reassured, pulling him into a hug. “I’m sorry, why didn’t you tell us about this? You shouldn’t have to keep this to yourself, that’s unfair on you.” 

Ody shook his head, numbly staring at the ground. “I didn’t want to talk about it. Or put the burden on you. Or make you guys see me any differently.” 

“Oh please,” Jefferson interrupted, rolling his eyes, “you were at war for how long was it? Like ten years? Did you think you were going to leave Troy without some blood on your hands?” 

“It’s not about the blood, Jefferson,” Hamilton retorted. “I’m sure he’s fine with that. It’s the fact that it was a bloody child.” 

Jefferson raised an eyebrow, amused. “Is that not just another body? How can he go around killing sleeping Trojans and not give a damn but when it comes to a baby, he’s all sappy?” 

Many of those on the Greek side flinch. 

“Shut your damn mouth, Jefferson,” Hamilton retaliated, evidently pressed. “Don’t you dare utter a word out of that vile mouth of yours about war, you didn’t fight in ours. You can’t talk about these experiences firsthand if you’ve never had them. You hate how I run my mouth, but here you are- you hypocritical, insensitive prick.” 

That seemed to shut him up. 

“Well, uh, younger dad,” Telemachus muttered, “most of us don’t blame you for whatever choice you make. Some people are all bark, no bite.” He shot an aggravated look at Jefferson, who rolled his eyes away. Gods, was ignorance a pain. 

All Odysseus could think of was this– if this pretentious asshole is judgemental over Troy, he’s going to critique every bit of the next few destinations.  

Either way, the screen began to fade into a new visual, reading... 

Just a Man.  

Chapter Text

[ODYSSEUS]

I look into your eyes and I think back to the son of mine  

Telemachus shifted nervously, his eyes darting between both versions of his father. Odysseus sat there numbly, eyes away from the screen, while Ody looked visibly distressed, Polites trying to comfort him. 

Not to much avail. Polites couldn’t remove the guilt. 

You're as old as he was when I left for war  

A rush of unpropelled sadness returned to Telemachus. It was no easy feat, living your entire childhood without a father, unknowing of his whereabouts... unknowing if he was even alive. He was waiting just as much as his mother– but how could he know what he was waiting for? All he relied on were the tales of the great warrior he was, one he aspired to be... and then what? 

He loved his father. He loved him so dearly. It was just difficult, sometimes, considering the years lost that they can never bring back. 

Burr mused of an alternate universe where he didn’t have Theodosia. Ten years was a long time to not see your child for, and everything else you’d ever known. Burr, unlike Hamilton, was content with a normal, predictable life, living in solicitude, even if his name didn’t go down in history. 

Until he wasn’t. 

On the contrary, Hamilton, oblivious to his paralleled, simultaneous thoughts in line with Burr’s, had an unwanted reminder of Philip’s ill fate. Who did he have to blame but himself? 

Maybe part of him planned to shoot to the sky because of the guilt he carried with him. If he were to die, he would die having upheld his son, as if the heavens came down. 

God, he couldn’t wait to see him again. Whether that was today, tomorrow, or in fifty years. 

After this ordeal, obviously. 

Will these actions haunt my days? Every man I've slain?  

Is the price I pay endless pain?  

It was Washington who contemplated this time, flashbacks to the point he had made to Alexander. 

History has its eyes on you.  

He revealed the woes of his first ever command, even younger than Alexander, and how he led his men straight into a massacre. Was this what it meant to be? Was it truly necessary? In order to be a great general, did he have to have a trail of bodies follow his every step? 

Some nights, sleep didn’t come easily. Splutters of crimson would plague his thoughts. And for their freedom, he had to live with it. 

No honour came without a cost. 

Close your eyes and spare yourself the view  

How could I hurt you?  

Part of Polites wondered how he could. Obviously, this was an impossible choice. Obviously, he would defend Ody’s every action. Obviously, this was necessary. 

But... 

If it were up to him, he couldn’t he simply couldn’t. 

Part of him hoped the infant would stay alive. 

Maybe. 

Maybe? 

I'm just a man  

“It’s pretty sad,” Angelica commented, “how what’s normally an excuse has been transcribed into something tragic.” 

Telemachus glanced over at her. “An excuse?” 

“Oh,” she answered, “I don’t know how things worked three thousand years ago, but it’s just a common excuse for men to do stupid things. Like, disgusting things.” 

“Oh,” the prince replied. He offered nothing more. 

Who's trying to go home  

Even after all the years away from what I've known  

Ctimene felt a pang of sorrow, as he was only halfway done the journey. And here he was, thinking this was the worst of it. 

She recalled the splurge of an explanation, verbose and panicky, he gave to her to reason why Eurylochus was... well, dead. Thankfully, he returned, but... his words stuck with her. Something about the way he spoke sparked an anguish that didn’t come from this world. 

And all these years later, she could do nothing to help her older brother. 

I'm just a man who's fighting for his life  

Deep down, I would trade the world to see my son and wife  

That will later show, Odysseus predicted. 

Penelope offered him a sympathetic glance. So did Eliza, noticing his distress from the other side. 

I'm just a man  

The Americans who were not composite of the war had a moment of stress alleviation, thinking the song had ended. Maybe he didn’t kill the baby– maybe there was still a tinge of humanity remaining in him. 

Until they were proven wrong. 

But when does the comet become a meteor?  

When does a candle become a blaze?  

When does a man become a monster?  

Jefferson quipped, whispering to Madison, “That’s one way to make murder metaphorically lyrical.” 

Madison did not humour his words, shrugging, watching the television. 

Meanwhile, Athena couldn’t help but remember how harshly she had treated him. He was just a man, and she was expecting him to be more. 

So much guilt and little room to apologise. 

When does a ripple become a tidal wave?  

When does the reason become the blame?  

When does a man become a monster?  

Angelica and Eliza subtly looked away, unwilling to watch him drop the baby. 

Quiet weeping came from Ody, sobbing into Polites, who rubbed his back apologetically. Eurylochus offered a similar look, understanding the conflict in him. 

[ENSEMBLE]  

When does a comet become a meteor?

When does a candle become a blaze?  

[ODYSSEUS]  

Forgive me  

[ENSEMBLE]  

When does a man become a monster?  

[ODYSSEUS]  

Forgive me  

[ENSEMBLE]  

When does a man become a monster?  

[ODYSSEUS]  

Forgive me  

I'm just a man  

The animation didn’t show the baby drop, but it didn’t need to– it was implied. 

There was an ominous silence in the room, and no one dared to break it for what felt like eons. 

Looking around the room, there were a variety of expressions. 

Washington, who had a mild grimace, mostly of acceptance. After all, this was war, and war wasn’t known to be forgiving. The blood etched onto your skin. Once you took the kill, that memory would haunt you forever. 

To do it was one thing. To live with it was another. 

Jefferson was mildly disturbed, but not really. He couldn’t bring himself to care enough. Sure, it was a shame, but they were at war. What was he expecting, a silver spoon of peace fed to his mouth? 

Madison thought similarly to Jefferson, subtracting the hostility. It all came down to a single, threatening word– war. 

The revolutionaries of all ages didn’t show much disturbance from the visuals, but they definitely had a pang of sympathy. Even if it were for freedom, even if they didn’t regret the war, the things they did for independence would always stick with them. 

All Eliza could muster was pity. Why must such cruelty happen? What was so horrible about peace? It was a lose-lose situation. One of them was going to end up harmed either way. 

Angelica frowned, a sliver of disdain towards Odysseus. Even if he didn’t have a choice, it was still one thing to be able to kill a baby. 

The King couldn’t care less. People die every day. So what? He was going to kill the man when he grew up. Maybe all the veterans around him had no instinct for self-preservation, but logically, it wasn’t just his life on the line, but his family’s. It was the rational choice to make, and wars were certainly not one through emotions. 

Perchance somewhat pious of him, some would daresay. 

Then there was Odysseus. He was numb to all this. The infant still haunted him, sure, but there were bigger regrets to cave to guilt for. The tears he shed for this one child were so incessant that it evolved into indifference. Nowadays, it was easier to just... not care. 

Some days it was easier not to care. Other days... 

Penelope had no enmity towards her husband for what was a fundamental decision. That was it. She loved every bit of him that he constituted as a monster, for she would never see one. He meant no malice, yes? That was all she needed. 

Telemachus was the same. Sure, he had some pity, but no one could expect the foes of war to be a walk in the park. 

If Ctimene could be upset about anything, it wasn’t the infant. Even then, she was too forgiving to hold it against him. 

Ody kept sobbing. That was plenty enough of an explanation for how he responded. Eurylochus and Polites did their best to tranquilise him, to no success. 

As for Athena, she really wanted to feel pitiful... but nothing came. The decision was unfortunate, yes, but he didn’t have remorse for it. He would’ve done it again. And again. And again. As evidenced through the remainder of his journey, he took out all six hundred of his men. This was hardly foreplay. 

There was only one form of regret– and that was her own. 

Alas, after a solid few seconds of deathly quiet, Eliza muttered a few words. “I’m sorry, dear. That is awful to live with.” 

Odysseus shrugged. “Could be worse.” Would get worse.  

“How can you not care?” Angelica asked, perhaps a little demanding, ignoring his younger version having a mental breakdown. “I mean, sorry. You just seem so... aloof about it.” 

“I mean, that was ten years ago,” he replied ambiguously, not offended. “You’ll see. There were bigger fish to fry down the track. It doesn’t get better.” 

It... doesn’t? The younger few of the crew flinched, anticipation filling their guts. 

“Just,” Odysseus sighed, “appreciate Troy while it lasts.” 

Big, bold characters flash on the television. 

Full Speed Ahead.  

Chapter Text

[ODYSSEUS]  

Six hundred men  

“And how many men did you go to war with?” Washington inquired, expecting at least double of six hundred.  

“Six hundred,” Odysseus replied dryly, answering for an Ody who was still a bit slow to respond. They gave them a few minutes of intermission time, mostly for his younger self to quit hyperventilating.  

Alexander blinked several times, astounded. “Not one of them died?”  

“Not one of them,” he answered soullessly. There was no pride in his voice. If anything, there was shame.  

The younger veterans noted the ominous nature in his tone for later.  

Six hundred men under my command  

With only one goal in mind  

[ENSEMBLE]  

Make it back alive to our homeland  

About that, Odysseus thought. It was strange, really, whether he was meant to regard the situation with any less weight now that they reincarnated. Yes, they were alive and well and safe now, but yes, they still died.  

Because of him.  

[ODYSSEUS]  

Six hundred men, six hundred miles of open sea  

But the problem's not the distance  

[ENSEMBLE]  

It's what lies in between  

“Well,” Eurylochus crossed his arms, “that’s us now. Any caveats we should watch out for, older Ody?”  

“I think the content will cover it well,” Odysseus sighed, apologetic. “I can only pray the intention of this... interaction is for you to not repeat the same mistakes I made.  

The same mistakes. That couldn’t mean any good.  

[ODYSSEUS]  

And Ithaca's waiting, Ithaca's waiting  

My kingdom is waiting (the kingdom is waiting)  

Penelope's waiting for me  

“Not anymore,” Penelope whispered, giving Odysseus a kiss on the cheek. He reclined towards her, somehow more than he already was.  

So full speed ahead, full speed ahead  

[ENSEMBLE]  

Captain, Eurylochus  

“The fact that we were just midway in this interaction, or at least a modification of it,” Polites beamed, ignoring the negativity in the room. “That’s kind of cool, this whole retelling of us.”  

“Let’s pray my introduction is any good,” Eurylochus replied, leaning back on the couch.  

[EURYLOCHUS]  

Six hundred men (six hundred men)  

Six hundred men with big mouths to feed  

“And, of course, it’s about food,” Ody chuckles.  

On a typical day, Eurylochus would exaggerate offence, but he was just grateful his spark returned.  

And we've run out of supplies to eat  

[ENSEMBLE]  

Curse the war, our food store's depleted  

That was an incredibly unfortunate root cause for most of their problems. If they had food, they would’ve all made it back to Ithaca in six days.  

Curse the war indeed.  

[EURYLOCHUS]  

Six hundred men (six hundred men)  

Six hundred reasons to take what we can  

So captain, what's the plan?  

[ENSEMBLE]  

Captain, what's the plan?  

[ODYSSEUS]  

Watch where the birds fly (watch where the birds fly)  

They will lead us to land (they will lead us to land)  

There we'll hunt for food, my second in command  

“I forget you didn’t have maps back then,” John intercepted, raising an eyebrow. “Did that form of direction work?”  

“To all the wrong places,” Odysseus responded, mildly ashamed. Greatly ashamed.  

Whatever that insinuated, John did not pry any further.  

Now full speed ahead, full speed ahead  

[ENSEMBLE]  

We're up, we're off, and away we go  

We're up, we're off, and away we go  

We're up, we're off, and away we go  

“It’s,” Angelica stated, “quite catchy.”  

[POLITES]  

Captain  

[ODYSSEUS]  

Polites!  

“That’s me,” Polites chimed, nudging Eurylochus and Odysseus with both elbows.  

[POLITES]  

Look! There in the distance, I see an island  

I see a light that faintly glows  

Maybe they're people lighting a fire  

Maybe they'll share some food, who knows?  

“It’s easy to fall trapped into enemies, pote,” Lafayette mused. “You never know when something could be dangerous.”  

“But you never know when something could be good,” Polites retorted, in a playful tone.  

If only you knew, Odysseus sighed, closing his eyes for a bit.  

[ODYSSEUS]  

Something feels off here  

I see fire but there's no smoke  

[EURYLOCHUS]  

I say we strike first  

We don't have time to waste  

So let's raid the place and  

[ODYSSEUS]  

No  

“Ouch?” Eurylochus overemphasised but did not fake offence.  

Polites gear up, you and I'll go ahead  

[POLITES]  

You and I'll go ahead  

“Whoever sang that segment for, what was the name? Polites? Whoever sang that sounded like they were flipping Eurylochus off,” Jefferson snickered, leaning back on his seat.  

“Flipping off?” Eurylochus inquired, only to wish he didn’t.  

Lafayette casually whipped the finger out.  

“Oh,” Eurylochus realised, frowning right after.  

[ODYSSEUS]  

We should try to find a way no one ends up dead  

[EURYLOCHUS]  

We don't know what's ahead  

Looking back, Eurylochus was very rational. Odysseus just had some kind of fame and saviour and heroic complex.  

Too late to change now, was it?  

[ODYSSEUS]  

Give me 'til sunrise, and if we don't return  

Then six hundred men can make this whole place burn  

Now full speed ahead  

Full speed ahead  

Full speed ahead  

[ENSEMBLE]  

We're up, we're off, and away we go  

We're up, we're off, and away we go  

Full speed ahead (we're up, we're off, and away we go)  

We're up, we're off, and a  

Full speed ahead  

That would be sure to be one of the happier tunes of the musical.  

“It was quite catchy,” Lafayette admitted, “but I think our chanting was better.”  

“You can’t compare that,” Hercules interjected, “ours was after winning in a war we were almost sure to lose. Theirs didn’t really show that kind of dire gap, let alone the outcome of the war at all, though we can assume they won– this was about them getting home.”  

“True, bon ami,” the French replied, “I rest my case. Good song, though. Repetitive, but the good kind of repetitive.”  

“Can I just say,” Eliza proposed, “that song ended on a very... inauspicious note. As if some kind of inevitable doom was impending. I don’t know, perhaps I am overanalysing it.”  

“No,” Angelica corroborated, “I hear it.”  

I know it, Odysseus refrained from adding.  

“I suppose we’ll see what happens,” not Penelope, but it was Telemachus this time who defended what was the inevitable truth of the rest of his father’s journey. He would prolong their obliviousness for as long as he could– assuming that’s what he wanted.  

Either way, the next song title made Odysseus flinch.  

Open arms.  

Chapter Text

[POLITES]  

You can relax, my friend  

Not your smartest move, Athena instinctively thought, only to fall into an internal spiral of guilt once again. She was trying to make a mental effort to stop with these innate perspectives that creep into her mind, for they were unfair to make. 

Impulsive thoughts. 

She never had this problem before.  

[ODYSSEUS]  

Huh?  

[POLITES]  

I can tell you're getting nervous  

So do yourself a service  

And try to relax my friend  

“Kind of hard to relax when you just killed a baby,” Angelica muttered. Grim expressions filled the room, particularly from Ody. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s true, though– considering you just finished the war, what? Not too long ago, I’m guessing, it’ll be hard to relax.” 

“I suppose,” Polites responded, “I mean, I’m guessing the version of me in this didn’t know that. I wouldn’t like, shy away from that philosophy– there's no point in living life with guilt and only guilt, you know?” 

“Perhaps,” she debated, crossing eyes with the man, “but you can’t force him to relax.” 

“I doubt I’m forcing him,” he defended, frowning a little. “Well, I hope I'm not. Am I, Ody?” With the shake of his friend's head, he continued. "Encouraging is a better word. I’m trying to show someone shaken and shaped through war and trauma that there is still hope in life.” 

That would come to bite you in the back, Athena and Odysseus instantaneously thought. 

Angelica rested her case, nodding, leaning back on the sofa. 

[ODYSSEUS]  

I'm fine, Polites  

“You’re funny, mon ami,” Lafayette quipped, for Odysseus was, clearly, far from okay. 

Ody did not find that comment funny. 

[POLITES]  

Think of all that we have been through  

We'll survive what we get into  

That’s funny, Odysseus impulsively mused. He survived– did Polites? 

It wasn't funny, if that wasn't clear.

I know that you're tired of the war and bloodshed  

“Who wouldn’t be?” John asked, a tiresome tone. “I mean, I know we talk a big game about fighting and honour and dying for patriotism– doesn’t mean it’s not tiring.” 

“You don’t say,” Hercules agreed. “People don’t talk about that much. I mean, they talk about it, but not as much as defending your country and stuff. War gives real shit memories.” 

It beat staying stranded on that island, Alexander retorted internally, but he, for once, kept it to himself. Talking less, Burr.  

Tell me, is this how we're supposed to live?  

Completely outlandish and irrelevant, but gods. 

What if there’s a world where we don’t have to live this way?  

Odysseus kept thinking of Athena. Why did he keep thinking of Athena? Shouldn’t this be about Polites? A swarm of guilt engulfed him, even if Polites was alive and well and back at Ithaca. This guilt... was a part of him. 

As if he could ever accept that. 

Look at how you grip your sword, enough said  

Why should we take when we could give?  

You could show a person that you trust them  

When you stop and lower your guard  

Here we have a chance for some adjustment  

Give it a try, it's not that hard  

“I don’t mean offence,” Alexander inquired in a tone that suggested I do mean offence, “but how did that mentality get you through like, what? Ten years of war?” 

Washington and Aaron collectively gave him a look that telepathically communicated stop running your mouth. It’ll get you killed, Aaron, more than Washington, inevitably thought. 

As evidenced by Burr, many years later, after decades of secret but reciprocated animosity.

“None taken,” Polites replied, now facing the revolutionary, a light smile. “If I’m being honest, I’m not this kind, bubbly persona the image is depicting me to be– at least not all the time. Otherwise, I would’ve never been equipped to hop on that ship all those years ago. Really, this mentality, as you call it, only really applies to my crew. I have a connection with them, unlike with the Trojan soldiers. If it’s the enemy, then... well, it’s war, I guess. It’s unfortunate, it’s sad, but what can you do?” 

“I–” Alexander was taken aback. He didn’t expect him to actually give a feasible answer. 

“Like your friends,” Polites continued, “if they were feeling like crap, would you let that be?” 

“I guess you have a point,” Alexander admitted, in which many in the room were impressed. The Alexander Hamilton? Acknowledging that someone other than himself had a point? 

The world turned upside down. 

I'm telling you  

This life is amazing when you greet it with open arms  

Whatever we face, we'll be fine if we're leading from the heart  

No matter the place, we can light up the world  

Here's how to start  

Greet the world with open arms  

Greet the world with open arms  

[LOTUS EATERS]  

Welcome  

“What,” King George spoke, alas, “are those... things?” 

“That’s what they look like?” Penelope asked, scrutinising the animation. “When you said lotus eaters, I thought you meant like... people.” 

“I did mean people,” Odysseus replied, “I’m just guessing that the... artists of this music and drawings took creative liberties and made them seem like jolly creatures.” 

“I... see?” Penelope was unsure whether to be amused or concerned. 

Eliza smiled at the screen, leaning against Alexander’s shoulder. “They’re quite adorable.” 

“Many of us would beg to differ,” Eurylochus interjected, “but sure.” 

[ODYSSEUS]  

Stay back  

[LOTUS EATERS]  

Stay back  

[POLITES]  

My friend, greet the world with open arms  

“Nah,” Ody chipped in. 

“Oh, c'mon Ody,” Polites rejoined, “home isn’t too far away. It’s probably about time we exchange the war mindset with the uh... normal man mindset?” 

About that, many in the room internally responded. 

“I mean,” Ody replied, “I’m kind of king, not sure whether that’s normal. Oh shit– I am king– totally forgot that bit–” 

“You are a king?” King George carried on, “At this age?” 

“Generational stuff,” Ody answered. “My parents stepped down. I was king before I went to war too– a teenager, barely.” 

“I– wow. I must admit, that is impressive.” The King of England? Commending someone? The world really was turning upside down. 

Ody shrugged, dismissing it as if it were no big deal. “Not really impressive when it’s kind of endowed upon my bloodline, but thanks!” 

[ODYSSEUS]  

We're only here for food  

[LOTUS EATERS]  

Food  

[Odysseus]  

Six hundred friends are waiting for us to show our faces  

“Using friends in an apprehensive tone, let alone an apprehensive situation, is kind of oxymoronic,” Alexander pointed out. 

Aaron rolled his eyes. “No one needs to hear your debilitating attempt to sound verbose and sophisticated.” 

“Look who's talking,” the former grinned. “Hey y'all, who here doesn't love a good ole hypocrite?”

“You piece of–” 

[LOTUS EATERS]  

Food  

[ODYSSEUS]  

Stay back, I'm warning you  

If we don't get back safely, my men will turn this place into blazes  

“Poor little things are just trying to live their lives,” Lafayette joked. 

[LOTUS EATERS]  

Here you go  

[POLITES]  

See?  

Ody, confused, tilted his head at the screen. “Just like tha– oh wait.” 

“What?” Polites asked, seemingly satisfied with the outcome of his persistence. 

“The fruit,” Ody concluded grimly, “is lotus fruit. Should we eat it, our minds will be trapped and possessed.” 

“Oh,” the latter’s spirits dropped mildly, only to be lifted again, “well, perhaps we can ask them for an alternative.” 

Ody frowned, sceptical of his proposal. “If you say so, Polites.” 

This life is amazing when you greet it with open arms  

Whatever we face, we'll be fine if we're leading from the heart  

No matter the place, we can light up the world  

Here's how to start  

Greet the world with open arms  

Greet the world with open arms  

“This open arms business is very recursive,” Madison stated, rubbing his arms. 

Jefferson shrugged, leaning back smugly. “This whole thing is quite recursive.” 

[ODYSSEUS]  

My friend, I wish that I could say that I agree  

But look at the way this fruit is glowing and filled with glowing seeds  

It took me a while to notice just what kind of fruit they eat  

It's a lotus, it controls your mind and never lets you free  

“Called it,” Ody chimed in. 

That's what we'd get with open arms  

[POLITES]  

Lotus eaters, I'd like to show my friend that kindness is brave  

Could you tell me where there's other food to eat?  

“So did I,” Polites shrugged. 

[LOTUS EATERS]  

The cave, scary cave  

[POLITES]  

A cave! You're saying there's a cave where we could feast?  

And where do we sail to find this food-filled cave?  

[LOTUS EATERS]  

East, that way  

[POLITES]  

Thank you!  

[LOTUS EATERS]  

Welcome  

“Kinda seeing your take, Betsey,” Alexander added, grinning. “They are mildly adorable.” 

“Adorable is the last word I’d use to describe those... things,” Odysseus prolonged, even if it probably wasn’t under their control. They gave them the direction to the Cyclops' cave, which, if they had never gone in that cave, they would’ve made it home far quicker with no deaths. 

Then again, the whole reason they consulted the lotus eaters was because of Polites. 

Never mind. No one’s fault. 

His.  

[POLITES]  

This life is amazing when you greet it with open arms  

I see in your face there is so much guilt inside your heart  

“That’s a nice way to put it,” Eurylochus mentioned. 

So why not replace it and light up the world, here's how to start  

Greet the world with open arms  

Greet the world with open arms  

[ODYSSEUS]  

Greet the world with open arms  

[POLITES]  

You can relax, my friend  

“Again,” Eliza inquired, “why did it end on such an ominous note again? Please, someone, tell me if I’m thinking too much into this. Tell me that I am thinking too much into this.” 

“No,” Telemachus sighed, unintentionally giving implied spoilers, “you’re not. You’re really not.” 

“What do you mean, uh, you’re the son, right?” Eurylochus asked, a little fazed. 

“You’ll find out,” Telemachus replied, “not my place to say.” 

With that, the screen switched to the next part. 

Fuck me I guess, thought Odysseus. 

Oh, thought Athena. 

Nevertheless, neither of them wanted to witness this– but what choice did they have? 

With big, bold text, the screen emphasised these unwanted words. 

Warrior of the Mind.  

Chapter Text

[ATHENA]  

Have you forgotten the lessons I taught you?  

Odysseus and Athena were on the same page in different books. 

Odysseus, who thought he indeed did forget the lessons she taught him and would’ve been so much better off listening to the Goddess of Wisdom herself. 

Athena, who wished she had seen a friend earlier. 

[ODYSSEUS]  

Athena!  

[ATHENA]  

Have you forgotten to turn off your heart?  

This is not you  

“I’m gonna be real honest with you, Athena, even if you’re the future one,” Ody mentioned. 

Athena gave him a look that read go on.  

“I mean like– yes, but no, you know? I don’t like ruthlessness. I acknowledge it’s necessary sometimes, but where it’s not, why act on it? Like, so far, the lotus eaters have just been nice.” 

“Exactly!” Polites agreed with his statement. “Wait– wait she’s your mentor?!” 

“It’s a long story and I’m sure the thing will show what happened,” Ody shrugged, as if it were no big deal. 

Athena offered nothing more. To her sorrow, he would soon find out that it was the brashest idea he could’ve devised. The hubris bell rang several times that day. 

He was mourning a friend.  

But really, where was the line between hubris and grief? It was blurry, ambiguous, invisible. You simply couldn’t know. 

Meanwhile, Odysseus had very different thoughts. Ruthlessness, he contemplated. Ody was unknowingly guessing his own doom.  

I see you changing from how I've designed you  

Have you forgotten your purpose?  

Let me remind you  

“This seems a bit harsh–” Eliza whispered, before subsequently being shot a look from the goddess. “Oh, sorry. I don’t mean it like– like...” 

“Worry not,” Athena spoke, impartial. Pretending to be, at least. “You are not wrong.” 

Athena? Admitting she was something with... negative connotations? Since when? Ody was slightly stupefied, genuinely puzzled. 

Goddess of wisdom  

Master of war  

My life has one mission  

Create the greatest warrior  

“What for?” Alexander questioned, prodding at her philosophy. 

Athena was readily opening her mouth to spout an answer, before the question took her aback. 

What for? 

So many years she wanted something tangible, a visible testament to her greatness for she could forge the greatest but... then what? 

You’re alone!  

Athena had many mortal heroes– Perseus, Diomedes, Bellerophon, Heracles– but what did it matter? They were all great in their own ways, but at the end of the day, that was all they were. Great. 

And then what? 

Odysseus was... different. He too was great, yes, but he was... greater. Not in the sense that he was more strong, but in the sense that he was... more of a friend.  

And she threw that away. She threw away her shot. She was alone for ten years, unwilling to stoop low enough to form redemption. 

How did he forgive her? 

I had a challenge, a test of skill  

A magic boar only the best could kill  

“My god,” Alexander murmured, “I hold myself highly, but shit.” 

One day a boy came for the thrill  

A boy whose mind rivalled the boar's own will  

“So you went,” Aaron asked, “for... fun?”  

“For lack of a better word,” Ody shrugged, as if it were no big deal. “It was kind of fun, if I’m being honest.” He didn't include how he was protecting Polites from it, as it was their little secret in a way. Polites gave him a grin in regards for his confidentiality.

“And you’re kind of strange,” Eurylochus chimed. 

Polites and Ody chuckled at such a statement. Go figure, Eurylochus. 

[ODYSSEUS]  

Let's go!  

“So, you just,” John asked, “weren’t scared?” 

“Nah,” Ody responded noncommittally. “Not really, at least. It wasn’t the hardest of things Athena made me do.” 

Ody meant it humorously. Athena took it guiltily. 

She couldn't help but wonder if he would still take their path had he known what'd happen.

[ATHENA]  

Maybe one day he'll follow me  

And we'll make a greater tomorrow, then they'll see  

Did we make a better tomorrow? Odysseus couldn’t help but ask. Was this their happy ending? 

Would it ever be? 

Penelope could only give him a sympathetic glance and physical affection. She felt so... helpless like this, doing nothing for her hurting husband. 

Twenty years. 

Twenty years was barely enough time to do them apart, but... twenty years was still a long time. 

Their love might’ve triumphed over any possibility, but there was still so much of the unknown. Twenty years changed people. She couldn’t be sure that this was the same man she knew like her own mind– even if she loved him that way. 

It was unfair. Life was unfair– but what could she do? What could they do? 

I know he'll change the world  

“You weren’t wrong about that,” Angelica mused, “considering it’s this cinematic business in the early 2000s, as the disembodied voice instated.” 

“I suppose,” Odysseus muttered– if the world knew of his journey, then they must be aware of how it was predominantly composed of jeopardy. 

Alexander gave Angelica a glance that suggested something similar. Infamous would be a better word. 

I am the infamous, Odysseus!  

It wasn’t just detrimental, it was mortifying. His hubris was why he couldn’t go home for so long. Not Poseidon, not Calypso– himself.  

Cause he is a warrior of the mind  

Maybe one day I'll reach him  

And we can build his skills as I teach him  

If there's a problem, he'll have the answer  

“Didn’t do much with the answer,” Odysseus muttered under his breath. 

Ctimene drew her attention towards him. “What was that?” 

“Nothing– nothing.” Goddamnit.  

He is a warrior of the mind  

[ODYSSEUS]  

Show yourself  

I know you're watching me  

Show yourself  

I can see you  

“How...?” the King murmured. 

Ody smirked, daresay mischievously. “You’ll see, your highness.” 

[ATHENA]  

How can you see through my spell?  

[ODYSSEUS]  

Ha! I was lying, and you fell for my bluff  

Ahahaha!  

Admittedly, despite their adversities, this was a fond memory for both the mentor and the mentee– their first actual conversation. 

“For my own curiosity,” the King asked, “and do forgive my incomprehension, but how does this... polytheism work?” 

“Kind of hard to explain,” Odysseus brushed off, but continued to elaborate, “because it’s hard to constitute as a religion, really. You don’t really believe in the existence of them, because they were certain to exist. Who you or your people decided to pray and sacrifice for was a different thing. I mean, I’m supposing that if we can be brought from different timelines, we’re from completely different universes. In our world, gods often... I wouldn’t say interfere, but they were so involved in some of our lives, so I would say a good margin of people believed in the gods, not because of faith, but because of certainty. For instance, if a city wanted good crops, they would pray and sacrifice to Demeter, with the belief that they would reap what they sowed. I don’t know– what would you believe in? Monotheism?” 

“We have a single God,” Alexander chimed in, intrigued by the roots of Greek Mythology, “but he doesn’t come down and physically interfere with our lives, contrary to yourselves. We believe that if we do well on Earth and remain faithful to our lord, we will ascend to heaven with God. Then again, religion is subjective. It differs for everyone– often culture divides this factor, but it’s more of an individual thing. Most Americans are Christians, as we call it.” 

“I see,” Odysseus responded, as he gave a slight smile. “Quite interesting.” 

[ATHENA]  

Well done, enlighten me  

What's your name?  

[ODYSSEUS]  

You first, and maybe I'll do the same  

“I will forever be astounded,” Eurylochus muttered, “that the gods haven’t struck you down yet.” 

“You and me both,” Ody chuckled nervously. 

[ATHENA]  

Nice try, but two can play this game  

[ODYSSEUS]  

Nah! Don't be modest  

I know you're a goddess  

So let's be honest  

You are Athena  

“What a sick introduction,” Hercules grinned. 

[ENSEMBLE]  

Athena!  

[ODYSSEUS]  

Badass in the arena (arena)  

“...Badass?” Telemachus asked. 

Aaron answered the perplexity this time. “Each period of time has different colloquialisms. Since this was made during the 2000s, I’d assume, as we do not have such advanced mechanisms, this must be their communication, in a way. Simply, mild alterations to language to suit a certain age group.” 

“I... see?” The Greeks didn’t really grasp that concept, but it wasn’t that significant. 

Unmatched, witty and queen of (and queen of)  

The best strategies we've seen  

[ATHENA]  

If you're looking for a mentor  

I'll make sure your time's well spent  

[ODYSSEUS]  

Sounds like a plan  

Goddess and man  

Bestest of friends  

Hey, good old days, Odysseus reminisced, somewhat hoping Athena was listening. 

She gave him a physical look that suggested she was. 

[ATHENA]  

We'll see where it ends  

[ODYSSEUS]  

Okay  

[ATHENA]  

Maybe one day they'll follow me and we'll  

[ATHENA & ODYSSEUS]  

Make a greater tomorrow  

“These are sweet harmonies,” Eliza mentioned, smiling. 

Then they'll see  

I know we'll change the world cause  

We are the Warriors of the Mind  

Maybe one day we'll reach them  

And we can build their skills as we teach them  

If there's a problem, we'll have the answer  

We are the Warriors of the Mind  

We.  

[ATHENA]  

I still intend to make sure you don't fall behind  

Don't forget that you're a warrior of a very special kind  

You are a Warrior of the Mind  

Wow, Telemachus pondered. He was... the spitting image of his younger father, yet so distinguishably different. He compared the two situations, back then and when Athena came to his defence against Antinous– 

Different. 

It was different. 

Don't disappoint me  

Clearly, very different. 

That singular line spiked unwanted expressions on Athena and Odysseus’s faces, somewhat Ody’s too for future reference. 

In the end, they both disappointed one another, did they not? 

Odysseus disappointed Athena by being arrogant. 

Athena disappointed Odysseus by... leaving. 

Things could’ve been so different if she had stayed. If she had just stopped and damned rationality to simply understand that her student was grieving, the journey would be much different. 

What was the point of lamenting? The premise of what could’ve been died. 

It was too late. 

“And that, ladies and gentlemen,” the voice returned, “was the Troy Saga of Epic the Musical! Without further ado, sit tight, for we will be playing seven songs from the next item before we return to the Odyssey.” 

The Odyssey, huh? Ody, intrigued, ruminated. It had a nice element to it. 

Nevertheless, Alexander’s eyes lit up as the screen read bold, golden letters. 

Hamilton.  

Hamilton, on the other hand, couldn’t decide whether he should feel honoured or disappointed. His endeavours peaked, the man climbing himself out of the hole he was stuck up to the tops of New York, before it dwindled so terribly. 

Was this not great? He left behind a legacy so colossal that he was still remembered hundreds of years later. Though undoubtedly, considering the sin embedded in him during his lifetime, there was no way of clarifying whether it was a good legacy. 

Was a bad legacy worth it if it was a legacy nonetheless? 

And, as the arrogant man he was, damned to the flesh, could only come to see his faults at the precipice of his demise. Selfish and prideful and vain, he was. 

He knew far too late. 

But... this was a nicer alternative to dying. Maybe. Not particularly. 

Philip. 

He couldn’t wait to see him again. 

Alexander Hamilton. 

Chapter Text

[BURR]  

How does a bastard, orphan  

“Really Burr?” Alexander groaned, far from surprised but clearly unimpressed. 

“I–” Aaron came to his own defence, “did not say that. This is a musical adaptation.” 

With heavy implications, both Hamilton and Burr mused. 

Son of a whore  

“This has to be hypocrisy,” Alexander scowled sardonically, “like, orphan, Burr? Seriously?” 

“Again,” Aaron replied, “this is a musical adaptation.” 

“Uh huh, probably how you think of me am I right?” the former added. 

The latter offered nothing more. 

And a Scotsman, dropped in the middle of a forgotten spot in the  

Caribbean, by providence  

Impoverished, in squalor  

Grow up to be a hero and a scholar?  

“This is,” Telemachus said, “a very different way of introducing the main character...?” 

“Indeed...” Ody muttered, remembering The Horse and the Infant, and how he was brought into the play in action. 

[LAURENS/PHILIP]  

The ten-dollar founding father without a father  

“Oh Laurens, you too? What the hell?” Alexander complained a lot more sarcastically to John than to Aaron. “Is this entire song just slandering me or some shit? Wait– ten-dollar?” 

The disembodied voice took the chance to chime in. “In our century, you’re on the ten-dollar bill.” 

“Really?” both versions inquired, Alexander more excited than Hamilton’s wary voice. 

“Ain’t no way,” Jefferson blurted, unhappy to hear that his plans didn’t diminish his fame, “ain’t no way he’s on a bill.” 

“So are you,” the voice responded, impartial. “Two-dollar bill.” 

“I don't even know you!” Alexander spouted, gesturing to Jefferson. “The hell’s your problem?” 

“Did you hit your–” Jefferson rephrased his statement, recalling the timeline differences. “Ah, your friends are still alive and here. You’re the younger one, before you went rogue and corrupt.” 

“Excuse me?” Alexander retorted, insulted. “Rogue and corrupt? You, Thomas Jefferson, want to call me rogue and corrupt? Shut the fuck up you rich bastard!” 

Both men stood up, eyeing each other ferociously. 

“For the love of–” Aaron muttered, placing a hand on Alexander’s shoulder, “gentlemen, can we calm down, take a deep–” 

“Oh my, we getting feisty now, are we?” Jefferson grinned, stepping forward threateningly, enjoying this far too much. “Listen to your friend and calm down. It wasn’t that serious–” 

“Shut your damn mouth!” Alexander bellowed, piqued. “This motherfucker wants to shit on my name in my face! I frankly don’t care who you are, you immoral, pretentious asshole, what right do you have to call me rogue and–” 

“ Alexander .” 

That was Washington’s voice. 

“Sit down and stop causing a scene,” Washington hissed, second-hand embarrassed. “You are being petty, especially in front of others.” 

Even though he spoke devoid of emotion, his very voice sent shivers down Alexander’s spine. His mouth tentatively closed, the anger of his expression quickly diminishing to fear. 

“Control yourself, Alexander.” Washington dropped his tone for the next part. “That’s an order from your commander.” 

With that, he sat down, utterly mortified. 

“Daddy’s calling,” Jefferson whispered to Madison smugly, far too entertained. He led him on, and he took the bait. 

Hamilton was more unbiased about it than he himself expected. All he did was take a disappointed glance at Alexander, then Aaron, then Burr, coming down to a few words– 

Fools who run their mouths off wind up dead.  

Eurylochus whispered to Ody, quiet enough so that the Americans wouldn’t hear, considering their... previous outburst. “Damn they have issues.” 

Ody whispered back, “You don’t say... and I thought I had enemies and anger issues.” 

“You don’t have anger issues, Ody,” Polites joined in, keeping the low volume. 

“Rich coming from mister open arms.” 

“Hey–” 

Got a lot farther by working a lot harder  

By being a lot smarter  

By being a self-starter  

By fourteen, they placed him in charge of a trading charter  

“At fourteen? Wow,” Eliza muttered, both sympathetic and enamoured, ignoring his little stunt earlier. A man who stood up for himself wasn’t all that bad anyway. 

Angelica was eyeing Jefferson, eager to vie with him about her proposal. She was far more hesitant now after hearing his petty nature. It all came down to one word, really– 

Men. 

[LAFAYETTE/JEFFERSON]  

And every day, while slaves were being slaughtered and carted away  

“Fitting for you,” Hamilton murmured. 

Jefferson smirked. “So you do speak.” 

Unlike his young, scrappy self, he didn't retaliate with anything. Alexander looked up in confusion, wondering what happened along the way. 

Across the waves, he struggled and kept his guard up  

Inside, he was longing for something to be a part of  

The brother was ready to beg, steal, borrow, or barter  

Basically, this whole thing is just shitting on my name and my past, Alexander contemplated, not daring to speak again just yet. 

[MULLIGAN/MADISON]  

Then the hurricane came and devastation reigned  

Our man saw his future drip, dripping down the drain  

Put a pencil to his temple, connected it to his brain  

And he wrote his first refrain, a testament to his pain  

[BURR]  

Well, the word got around, they said, “This kid is insane, man!”  

“Oh, thank you so much Burr,” Alexander spoke, a little too soon after his outburst perhaps, but whatever. Aaron gave no distinct response. 

Took up a collection just to send him to the mainland!  

Get your education, don’t forget from whence you came  

And the world’s gonna know your name  

What’s your name, man?  

[HAMILTON]  

Alexander Hamilton  

My name is Alexander Hamilton  

And there’s a million things I haven’t done  

But just you wait, just you wait  

“Isn’t that the first thing you said to me when we first met?” Angelica asked. 

Alexander shrugged. “It’s kind of my catchphrase.” 

[ELIZA]  

When he was ten his father split, full of it, debt-ridden  

“Come on,” Alexander growled, “you too Eliza?” 

“I–” Eliza came to her own defence, “I would never say that! Not without reason, and certainly not in front of people– Mr Burr said it, this is a musical adaptation.” 

Two years later, see Alex and his mother bedridden  

Half-dead, sittin’ in their own sick, the scent thick  

[COMPANY]  

And Alex got better but his mother went quick  

Both Hamiltons shifted nervously, turning away at that memory. Their father? Whatever, he was a dick. 

They both still remembered their mother’s touch like their own minds. 

[WASHINGTON]  

Moved in with a cousin, the cousin committed suicide  

“I see the whole gang is against you, mon ami,” Lafayette added in. 

Left him with nothing but ruined pride, something new inside  

A voice saying  

[WASHINGTON/COMPANY]  

Alex, you gotta fend for yourself  

[WASHINGTON]  

He started retreating and reading every treatise on the shelf  

“Treatise?” Odysseus asked, unbeknownst to him what that was. 

“Basically,” Alexander replied, “a book that formally delves into a particular subject.” 

[BURR/ENSEMBLE]  

There would've been nothing left to do  

For someone less astute  

He would've been dead or destitute  

Without a cent of restitution  

He started workin', clerkin' for his late mother's landlord  

Tradin' sugarcane and rum and all the things he can't afford  

“Wow... the lyricism is cool,” Telemachus recognised. 

Scammin' for every book he can get his hands on  

“That’s illegal,” Jefferson pried, hoping for another brash reaction. 

John clenched Alexander’s hand, warning him not to do anything stupid if he didn’t want their commander to start shouting at him once more. 

Plannin' for the future see him now, as he stands on  

The bow of a ship  

Headin’ for a new land  

In New York you can be a new man 
 
[COMPANY] 

Cause in  

[ENSEMBLE/HAMILTON]  

New York you can be a new man (just you wait)  

“Is New York another island?” Ctimene inquired. 

Madison answered her question this time. “America is a nation that is mostly together. New York is a city, quite a major one too.” 

In New York you can be a new man (just you wait)  

In New York you can be a new man (just you wait)  

[ENSEMBLE]  

In New York (New York)  

[HAMILTON]  

Just you wait  

[ENSEMBLE]  

Alexander Hamilton (Alexander Hamilton)  

We’re waiting in the wings for you (waiting in the wings for you)  

Could never back down, you never learned to take your  

Time, oh  

Despite their distinct stories, Odysseus saw part of himself in the man. They both started off determined, ready to make a mark, and... 

Well, judging from how worn-out Hamilton looked, and considering a musical was made of him, he could only assume things went downhill at some point. 

Alexander Hamilton (Alexander Hamilton)  

When America sings for you  

Will they know what you overcame  

Will they know you rewrote the game  

The world will never be the same, oh  

Burr couldn’t help but take a... contemplative glance at Hamilton. The world would never be the same after they returned to the battlefield. 

Unless. 

[BURR/ENSEMBLE]  

Ship is in the harbor now, see if you can spot him (just you wait)  

Another immigrant, comin' up from the bottom (just you wait)  

His enemies destroyed his rep  

America forgot him  

Alexander flinched– surely America didn’t. Surely if they made this adaptation of his life, they didn’t forget him. 

Surely. 

[LAFAYETTE/JEFFERSON/MULLIGAN/MADISON]  

We, fought with him  

“Mm, you don’t say,” Alexander muttered saltily, shooting Jefferson a look. He only ended up more frustrated when the man flashed his array of white teeth smugly. 

[LAURENS/PHILIP]  

Me? I died for him  

“I...” Alexander, agape, muttered. “Laurens?” 

“Oh–” John replied, “maybe that’s– hey, nothing’s set in stone until we truly know it, right?” 

This only left Alexander in a drowning pool of paranoia. 

[WASHINGTON]  

Me? I trusted him  

Trusted?  

[ANGELICA/ELIZA/PEGGY/MARIA]  

Me? I loved him  

“You seem pretty popular,” Penelope said. 

Angelica darted her eyes away in embarrassment, considering she sang that line too. Thankfully, Eliza didn’t dwell on it. 

[BURR]  

And me? I'm the damn fool that shot him (shot him, shot him)  

What. 

“I–” Alexander, somehow more agape than the previous, dropped, dumbstruck. “Burr...?” 

Aaron was equally surprised. “I mean, we have our disputes, but I wouldn’t... shoot you.” 

All eyes drew to Hamilton and Burr, whose indifferent expressions said enough. Part of Hamilton dwindled, for he initially thought Burr would wait for it– perhaps not. And Burr, expecting Hamilton to shoot, was surprised. 

“With all due respect, Mr Burr,” Eliza declared, a kind of passive anger in her voice that they all seldom heard, “please do not kill my husband.” 

“I would never!” Aaron insisted, genuine. “Like I said, we have our discrepancies, but Alex is still a friend!” 

Burr offered nothing. It was too late. Right. 

Right? 

[ENSEMBLE]  

There's a million things I haven't done  

But just you wait  

[BURR]  

What's your name, man? 
 
[HAMILTON/ENSEMBLE] 

Alexander Hamilton  

“Well, that was... no short of something,” Hercules said, in reference to both the theatrical performance and the... performance from Alexander and Jefferson. 

“You really don’t say,” John added. 

Many in the room wanted to apprehend others, get answers for all the unanswered statements made in the performance– but the screen prevented them from doing so, flowing into the next part. 

Aaron Burr, Sir.  

Chapter Text

[ENSEMBLE]  

1776  

“I can’t believe that was five years ago,” Alexander mentioned, the years flying by sinking in. 

New York City 
 
[HAMILTON] 

Pardon me, are you Aaron Burr, sir? 
 
[BURR] 

That depends, who's asking?  

“I–” Eurylochus perplexed over, “would you have something different if it wasn’t him?” 

“I was just being playful,” Aaron shrugged. 

Alexander scoffed incredulously. “You? Playful? What world are we living in?” 

 
 
[HAMILTON] 

Oh, well sure, sir  

I'm Alexander Hamilton, I'm at your service, sir  

I have been looking for you 
 
[BURR] 
I'm getting nervous 

“Who wouldn’t? This random bloke just came up to you like some unyielding bundle of energetic chaos or something,” Eurylochus said. 

Alexander opened his mouth to defend himself, but closed it in acquiescence. 

 
 
[HAMILTON] 

Sir  

I heard your name at Princeton  

I was seeking an accelerated course of study  

When I got sort of out of sorts with a buddy of yours  

I may have punched him  

“That’s one way to introduce yourself,” Ody said. 

“Hey, I had reasons!” Alexander, this time, defended himself. 

Ody threw a smirk at him, followed by a smug, “I’m sure you did.” 

It's a blur, sir  

He handles the financials? 
 
[BURR] 

You punched the bursar? 
 
[HAMILTON] 

Yes!  

“Why are you so... proud of punching someone?” Penelope asked, slightly worried. 

Alexander didn’t provide a substantial answer and just shrugged. 

I wanted to do what you did  

Graduate in two, then join the revolution  

He looked at me like I was stupid  

I'm not stupid  

“And there rings the hubris bell,” Ody declared. 

You talk a big game about hubris, hypocrite, Odysseus internally responded. All he had to do was wait a few hours, and he’d inevitably doom his entire crew and the next decade of his life. 

“Hey–” 

So how'd you do it, how'd you graduate so fast? 
 
[BURR] 

It was my parents' dying wish before they passed 
 
[HAMILTON] 

You're an orphan, of course  

I'm an orphan, God, I wish there was a war  

Aaron, amused, remembered this day. Not fondly, more... concerned. “Imagine just sauntering, and this random guy comes up to you and says you punched his friend and–"

“I'm sorry, you wanted a war?” Odysseus, flabbergasted, asked. He would’ve done anything not to go to war and watch his son grow up alongside his wife– the thought of wishing for a war sickened him, as the nostalgic memories flooded back like a typhoon. 

... 

Crazy. 

Crazy. 

Crazy.  

Odysseus ploughed the grass thoughtlessly, maintaining the facade of his inability to be in war. This false mentality he built was slowly seeping into his brain, soon to become a reality. 

Why were they still watching him? 

He did many little things intentionally to prove his case– he ploughed the same line three times and counting. He kept looking straight ahead and seldom at the grass. He even went off track several times for the extra tint of realism. 

But– wait– 

Shit.  

A few feet ahead, lying gleefully and happily in the terrain, was... no. A few men stood in the corner, brief cackles coming from that proximity. He was being set up– 

Telemachus. 

He didn’t have much of a choice. 

He stopped the plough a couple of feet away, as the men came parading inside. He was caught red-handed in his act, now conscripted for warfare– 

My son, he thought, a desperate hand sprouting out of his brain to the infant that grew smaller and smaller as he was escorted to his truth. He could only pray that this war would end soon. 

Telemachus.  

... 

“Hear me out,” Alexander justified, throwing his hands up in surrender. “I was poor. I had nothing. A war was all I had to make it out of that shithole.” 

Odysseus shook his head, still not following his logic. “But war is bloodshed. War is horror. War takes away from family.” 

“Exactly,” Alexander retaliated, “you had a family to go back to. Understand that I had nothing. I was poor. My father left, my mother died– I grew up raising myself. I had nothing to lose.” 

Alexander, who had nothing to lose. 

Odysseus, who had everything to lose. 

Two sides of the same coin, inextricably bound and intertwined, yet so different– so far, on opposing sides of the stratosphere, unseen. 

“Well, I–” Odysseus had no way of arguing that, even if yearning for battle was objectively horrible. Different paths of people had different forms of desperation. “I rescind my case, I guess.” 

For now. 

Then we could prove that we're worth more than anyone bargained for 
 
[BURR] 

Can I buy you a drink? 
 
[HAMILTON] 

That would be nice 
 
[BURR] 

While we're talking, let me offer you some free advice 
 
Talk less 
 
[HAMILTON] 

What?  

“What?” Lafayette chimed simultaneously with the audio. “This must be hilarious, mon ami– this eh, why you told us to tais toi? Ah, sorry–” 

“Shut up, he means,” Hercules translated. “And why you didn’t disclose shit about yourself.” 

“You’ll soon figure out that running one’s mouth did not work in someone’s favour.” 

It was Burr’s voice that rang in the amphitheatre. 

“For the love of Christ,” Hamilton complained, “keep your own animosity out of this.” 

“My animosity?” Burr replied, insulted. “Now, why don’t you tell the whole wide world the kind regards in which you have–” 

“Gentlemen. Please.” Athena spoke, a kind of irrevocable reverence echoing in the room. Both men adjourned their rivalries, receiving the adequate fear a goddess would reverberate. 

 
 
[BURR] 

Smile more 
 
[HAMILTON] 

Ha 
 
[BURR] 

Don't let them know what you're against or what you're for  

“That would be a wise mindset in warfare,” Washington commended, “but you should still allow yourself leeway for your own beliefs.” 

“Rich coming from Sir Obsessed-with-Hamilton with no distinct beliefs of his own,” Jefferson snickered with Madison, low enough not to be audible to most. 

 
 
[HAMILTON] 

You can't be serious 
 
[BURR] 

You wanna get ahead? 
 
[HAMILTON] 

Yes 
 
[BURR] 

Fools who run their mouths off wind up dead 
 
[LAURENS] 

A y-yo yo-yo-yo  

What time is it?  

“Is that foreshadowing?” Telemachus asked, remembering the fact that John died for Alexander. 

No one responded to him. He fell back onto his shoulders, a little embarrassed. 

 
 
[LAURENS/LAFAYETTE/MULLIGAN] 

Showtime 
 
[BURR] 

Like I said  

“Prob’ly is foreshadowing,” John replied eventually, a little remorsefully, but spoke upon noticing the boy slouch back. “I’m guessing Burr’s some kind of narrator here. We can only hope that whatever happens, we might have an opportunity to rectify it.” 

 
 
[LAURENS] 

Showtime! Showtime! Yo  

I'm John Laurens, in the place to be  

Had two pints of Sam Adams, but I'm working on three, hah  

“Sam... Adams?” John asked again, perplexed. 

The disembodied voice joined back in momentarily. “Creative liberties. It’s a type of alcohol made in 1984. Don’t ask.” 

“O... kay?” John still enjoyed the energy that was portrayed to him. 

Those redcoats don't want it with me  

Cause I will pop chick-a-pop  

These cops till I'm free 
 
[LAFAYETTE] 

A oui, oui, mon ami, je m'appelle Lafayette  

“Me, amis!” Lafayette sat up, straightening his posture slightly. 

The Lancelot of the revolutionary set  

I came from afar, just to say "bonsoir"

Tell the king, "casse toi"

Who's the best?  

"C'est moi"

“And, if I may ask,” Penelope inquired, “what do those words mean?” 

Lafayette, in a performative tone, recited his introduction translated. “Yes yes, my friend, my name is Lafayette– the Lancelot of the revolutionary set, I came from afar just to say good evening tell the king get lost, who’s the best? It’s me!” 

“I fear that’s kind of iconic,” Telemachus snickered. 

 
 
[MULLIGAN] 

Brah! Brah!  

I am Hercules Mulligan  

Up in it, lovin' it, yes I heard your mother say, “come again!”  

“Oh.” That was Angelica. 

 
 
[LAFAYETTE/LAURENS] 

Ay 
 
[MULLIGAN] 

Lock up your daughters and horses, of course  

It's hard to have intercourse, over four sets of corsets  

“Today’s a bad day to have ears,” Ctimene grimaced, which Penelope’s expression corroborated with. 

“My bad, ladies,” Hercules feigned an apologetic tone, before cracking into laughter with his fellow revolutionaries.  

 
 
[LAFAYETTE] 

Wow! 
 
[LAURENS] 

No more sex, pour me another brew, son  

Let's raise a couple more 
 
[LAURENS/LAFAYETTE/MULLIGAN] 

To the revolution  

“I mean,” Ody added, “if we ignore that bit, it’s the kind of convention I’d love to turn up to.” 

“Oh, mon ami,” Lafayette snickered, “did you and your men never speak of this? Perhaps more?” 

“Okay so in my defense–” 

 
 
[LAURENS] 

Well, if it ain't the prodigy of Princeton College 
 
[MULLIGAN] 

Aaron Burr 
 
[LAURENS] 

Give us a verse, drop some knowledge 
 
[BURR] 

Good luck with that, you're taking a stand

You spit, I'ma sit, we'll see where we land

“Why do you sound like the equivalent of a teacher’s pet, Burr?” Angelica grilled. 

Aaron gave an unimpressed look and left it there. 

 
 
[LAFAYETTE/MULLIGAN] 

Boo  

“I’m with Laf and Herc on that, Burr,” Alexander giggled, high fiving the two men. 

Aaron frowned, following him up with, “As if this is new information.” 

Not that you ever listened, mused Hamilton. 

 
 
[LAURENS] 

Burr, the revolution's imminent, what d’ya stall for? 
 
[HAMILTON] 

If you stand for nothing, Burr, what'll you fall for? 
 
[LAURENS/LAFAYETTE/MULLIGAN] 

Ooh 
 
[LAURENS] 

Who are you? 
 
[MULLIGAN] 

Who are you? 
 
[LAFAYETTE] 

Who are you? 
 
[LAURENS/LAFAYETTE/MULLIGAN] 

Ooh, who is this kid? What's he gonna do?  

“The good ole days,” Alexander smiled, excited for the next song with a rough overview of its description. 

“Indeed,” John ratified. 

“This,” Eurylochus said, “is a very different atmosphere to our tale.” 

“I agree,” Polites authenticated, “but it’s kind of nice. Catchy.” 

The song started to play, a brief preview of the song’s name in gold letters. 

My Shot.  

Chapter Text

[HAMILTON]  

I am not throwing away my shot  

I am not throwing away my shot  

Hey yo, I'm just like my country  

I'm young, scrappy, and hungry  

And I'm not throwing away my shot  

“I think we get that you’re not throwing away your shot, pal,” Jefferson mocked. 

Alexander bit back several swear words and a big, single finger. 

I'ma get a scholarship to King's College  

I probably shouldn't brag, but dag, I amaze and astonish  

“I’m going to start counting the number of times the hubris bell rings,” Ody joked, crossing his arms and leaning against Polites. 

“What about your own?” 

Odysseus’s voice cut through the atmosphere, a deafening silence that was thick, clogging the walls. He cleared his throat over the slip. “My apologies, ignore me.” 

The problem is, I got a lot of brains, but no polish  

I gotta holler just to be heard  

With every word, I drop knowledge  

I'm a diamond in the rough, a shiny piece of coal  

Tryin' to reach my goal, my power of speech, unimpeachable  

“Bell is going loud,” Jefferson remarked. No one entertained him– even hubris himself was busy snuggling with his Spartan wife. 

He had these moments. 

“Also, whoever wrote this,” Telemachus propped, “is scarily talented. Like, the lyrics? The rhythm? Pardon me?” 

“Surely the room can be unanimous on that one factor,” Angelica corroborated, siding with the boy. 

“Factor or a fact?” 

“He is pretty good, admittedly.” 

“For sure, mon ami!” 

Only nineteen, but my mind is older  

These New York City streets get colder, I shoulder  

Every burden, every disadvantage I have learned to manage  

I don't have a gun to brandish I walk these streets famished  

“A gun?” Eurylochus inquired, “like, muscle?” 

Aaron shook his head, acknowledging the Greeks’ misinformation. “No, like–” 

Lafayette whipped his pistol out and shot a hole into the ceiling. Several of them jumped, but primarily... 

“Oh my god Ctimene what the fuck help me–” the man grabbed his wife, hugging her tightly, terrified. When he realised there was no actual jeopardy, he wilted back into his initial position, embarrassed. 

“It’s okay Eury,” she cackled, along with several of the others, “it seems war didn’t really toughen you up.” 

“Okay so that’s just not true–” 

The plan is to fan this spark into a flame  

But damn it's gettin' dark so let me spell out the name  

I am the  

“This is going too fast to respond to,” Eliza blinked, rubbing her eyes. 

John shrugged, partially admiring his fellow revolutionary in this depiction. “I kinda like it that way.” 

“Every man for their own,” Eurylochus concluded. 

 
 
[HAMILTON/LAURENS/LAFAYETTE/MULLIGAN] 

A-L-E-X-A-N-D-E-R, we are meant to be  

[HAMILTON]  

A colony that runs independently  

Meanwhile, Britain keeps shittin' on us endlessly

Several eyes dashed over to the King of England, which he simply obfuscated, raising both of his eyebrows in utter indifference. “What a vulgar way to put it.” 

“A truthful way,” Alexander muttered. 

“Oh?” King George prodded, intrigued by his rebellion. He knew were all against him, but the nerve to express this disdain in front of their king was a different level of disrespect. Honestly, it was somewhat amusing. “What was that?” 

“You heard me,” Alexander entertained, not giving a flying shit for the life of him.

Essentially, they tax us relentlessly  

Then King George turns around and runs a spendin' spree  

He ain't never gonna set his descendants free  

So there will be a revolution in this century  

Enter me  

[LAURENS/LAFAYETTE/MULLIGAN]  

He says in parentheses  

“...What?” Telemachus muttered, utterly lost. 

Angelica clarified his confusion, “Stage directions.” And what the in the gods was that? 

[HAMILTON]  

Don't be shocked when your history book mentions me  

“Four,” Ody counted, receiving a playful glare from Alexander. 

I will lay down my life if it sets us free  

Eventually you'll see my ascendancy  

[HAMILTON]  

And I am not throwing away my shot  

I am not throwing away my shot  

Hey yo, I'm just like my country  

I'm young, scrappy, and hungry 
 
[HAMILTON/LAURENS] 

And I am not throwing away my shot  

“It’s quite repetitive,” Madison stated. 

Angelica gave him an incredulous look, fazed by him stating the obvious. “Really?” 

“I mean, I kind of like it like that, you know?” Eliza shrugged, lightly bopping her head. Whatever this style of music was, it was never played in their timeline– so it was nice for a change. 

[HAMILTON/LAURENS/LAFAYETTE/MULLIGAN]  

I am not throwing away my shot  

I am not throwing away my shot  

Hey yo, I'm just like my country  

I'm young, scrappy, and hungry  

And I'm not throwing away my shot  

It's time to take a shot  

[LAFAYETTE]  

I dream of life without the monarchy  

The unrest in France will lead to onarchy  

“The hell is onarchy-?” Jefferson asked. 

“Ah, don’t judge my English at the time so harshly, mon ami,” Lafayette replied, and Hamilton suddenly remembered that they ended up friends– or at least amicable. It twisted his stomach in his own epitomised guilt, for Jefferson had Lafayette in mind after his fame proliferated. 

He didn’t. 

Once a close friend, now a stranger– and perhaps he would carry that guilt to the afterlife. 

Maybe he was already there. 

Onarchy, how you say? How you  

Oh! A narchy  

When I fight, I make the other side panicky with my  

[LAFAYETTE/HAMILTON/LAURENS/MULLIGAN]  

Shot  

[MULLIGAN]  

Yo, I'm a tailor's apprentice  

And I got y'all knuckleheads in loco parentis  

I'm joinin' the rebellion, 'cause I know it's my chance to socially advance  

Instead of sewin' some pants  

“Chance, advance, pants– damn this guy is good,” Telemachus added. 

[LAFAYETTE/HAMILTON/LAURENS/MULLIGAN]  

Gonna take a shot  

[LAURENS]  

But we'll never be truly free  

Unless those in bondage have the same rights as you and me  

“Those in bondage?” Polites wondered, though quickly wishing he didn’t ask. 

Alexander made a conscious effort to glare at every slave owner in the room, not inclusive of Washington, of course, because he was biased. “Slaves.” 

“Oh,” Polites, taken aback, sunk back into his seat. “Well, that’s a nice goal to have... John, right?” 

“Yes,” John replied, redefining his bravery for the cause, “and thank you. People don’t deserve to be treated less than human,” he shot a glare at Jefferson and Madison, “because of their race.” 

"Okay, okay, what a brilliant speech you gave,” Jefferson interjected, not wanting to hear more of it. Madison looked away, speechless– he didn’t actively scavenge for slaves for he inherited them, but he didn’t make an effort to liberate them. That... made him as bad, right? 

Despite not being mentioned due to partisanship, Washington subtly obfuscated in shame. It was far too late for him to make this wrong a right anyway– he kept waiting for it, waiting for the right time, but that never came about. He may as well perpetuate his sin until his dying days. 

He was finding excuses.  

You and I, do or die, wait until I sally in on a stallion  

With the first black battalion  

Have another  

[LAFAYETTE/HAMILTON/LAURENS/MULLIGAN]  

Shot  

I may not live to see our glory.  

Those words were etched into Hamilton’s mind, a constant drive that led him to... to what? He kept Laurens in the back of his mind, his motivation to protect not just his own legacy but also John's, and... 

Every man ended up falling– it was just a matter of when.  

[BURR]  

Geniuses, lower your voices  

You keep out of trouble and you double your choices  

I'm with you, but the situation is fraught  

You've got to be carefully taught  

If you talk, you're gonna get shot  

“Foreshadowing?” Burr whispered, low enough for only Hamilton to hear. 

Hamilton ignored him passively. 

[HAMILTON]  

Burr, check what we got  

Mister Lafayette, hard rock like Lancelot  

I think your pants look hot  

Laurens, I like you a lot  

Eurylochus gave Ody a suggestive glare. That was it. 

Of course, that was it. No implications at all. 

Let's hatch a plot blacker than the kettle callin' in the pot  

What are the odds the gods would put us all in one spot  

Poppin' a squat on conventional wisdom, like it or not  

A bunch of revolutionary manumission abolitionists  

“Gods, that’s a mouthful,” Ctimene acknowledged. 

Give me a position, show me where the ammunition is  

Oh, am I talking too loud  

Sometimes I get overexcited, shoot off at the mouth  

I never had a group of friends before  

I promise that I'll make y'all proud  

[LAURENS]  

Let's get this guy in front of a crowd  

Eurylochus chimed in, “You,” he looked at Polites, “and John are very similar. The energy, at least.” 

“I kind of see it,” Polites concurred. 

John smiled at him, in which he happily reciprocated. 

[LAFAYETTE/HAMILTON/LAURENS/MULLIGAN/ENSEMBLE]  

I am not throwing away my shot  

I am not throwing away my shot  

Hey yo, I'm just like my country  

I'm young, scrappy, and hungry  

And I am not throwing away my shot  

I am not throwing away my shot  

I am not throwing away my shot  

Hey yo, I'm just like my country  

I'm young, scrappy, and hungry  

And I am not throwing away my shot  

“Very repetitive,” Penelope reinstated. 

[LAURENS]  

Everybody sing  

Woah woah woah  

Hey  

Woah  

Woo  

Woah  

Ay, let 'em hear ya let’s go  

I said shout it to the rooftops  

Said, to the rooftops  

Come on  

Come on, let's go  

“And this,” Alexander proudly mentioned, “is why I like you a lot.” 

“Aye Alex, you know that’ll always be two ways,” John beamed, as their hands slammed into one another. 

Once more, the three young Ithacans exchanged implicative looks, gathering the innuendo in their words. 

Maybe? Maybe not. After all, Ody and Diomedes had their fair share of... near, moments. Thankfully, Ody was faithful to his wife– but ten years was a long time. 

[HAMILTON, LAFAYETTE & MULLIGAN]  

Woah woah woah  

Woah  

Woah  

Yeah  

[COMPANY]  

Woah woah woah  

Woah  

Woah  

Yeah  

[LAURENS]  

Rise up  

When you're living on your knees, you rise up  

Tell your brother that he's gotta rise up  

Tell your sister that she's gotta rise up  

“Okay wait,” Telemachus paused the content, meaning to clarify, “so just to make sure I’m on the right track here– you guys are rebelling against your King and starting a revolution because he taxes you a lot?” 

“It’s more complicated than that, but basically,” Hercules replied, gesturing to King George. “He’s... the king of a different country, and we’re a colony wanting to gain independence.” 

“I see,” Telemachus nodded, giving the king an interesting look. Not good, not bad, just neutral. 

[LAURENS & ENSEMBLE]  

When are these colonies gonna rise up  

When are these colonies gonna rise up  

When are these colonies gonna rise up  

When are these colonies gonna rise up  

Rise up  

[HAMILTON]  

I imagine death so much it feels more like a memory  

“I– Alex?” Eliza asked, suddenly worried. The atmosphere changed, the energy changed, and... Alexander changed. 

The man visibly flinched, taken aback by the internal monologue displayed on the screen. Shit, he thought. “Oh, uh–” he stumbled, with nothing good to answer with, “don’t worry about it, Betsey.” 

When's it gonna get me  

In my sleep? Seven feet ahead of me  

If I see it coming, do I run or do I let it be  

Unfortunately, she was going to keep worrying. 

“You run!” both Angelica and Eliza shrieked. No matter the love Angelica had for him, whether it be romantic or platonic, she did genuinely care for him– and this suicidal mentality? He always acted so... occupied all the time, she almost expected the emotional part of him to be absent. 

Is it like a beat without a melody  

See, I never thought I'd live past twenty  

Where I come from, some get half as many  

“Oh, Alex,” Eliza, covering her mouth, croaked out. She gave him a side hug, few but evident tears soaking into his cloth. “You know you can always talk to me about this kind of thing. Always. I love you so, please don’t bottle these things up.” 

“I know, Betsey,” he replied. He didn’t know. “I love you too I– sometimes these things just... slip. Every now and then. I’d never act on anything.” 

Damn liar, Hamilton internalised. He was happy to die in the war, to choose his legacy over his family, and now he was happy to die defending his name. Stubborn, he was, to not apologise to Burr– but it was too late to possibly fathom it anymore. 

This was Hamilton at his core– selfish. His pride, his hubris would never let him free. It was the reason he was imprisoned in it, entangled in the gilded, inescapable cage of fame and remembrance– and now it would be his emancipation, for his greed will be how he was freed. 

There was life in death. Finally, he would be able to rest. 

Finally. 

Ask anybody why we livin' fast and we laugh, reach for a flask  

We have to make this moment last, that's plenty  

Scratch that  

This is not a moment, it's the movement  

“Okay, I know the atmosphere is kind of uh, gloomy right now,” Telemachus chimed in, “but this would make a good reformational speech.” 

“Trust me kid,” Alexander laughed, “it gets better.” 

“Hubris bell,” Ody whispered, “big number five.” 

Where did all the hungriest brothers with somethin’ to prove went  

Foes oppose us, we take an honest stand  

We roll like Moses, claiming our promised land  

“Moses?” Eurylochus posed. 

“This guy from our religion.” Madison shrugged. 

“Ah.” 

And? If we win our independence  

Is that a guarantee of freedom for our descendants  

Or will the blood we shed begin an endless  

Cycle of vengeance and death with no defendants  

Such a rhetorical question was oddly reminiscent of Odysseus’s own journey. If he gave into ruthlessness, is that a guarantee for mercy upon himself? Or would the blood he shed begin an endless cycle of vengeance and death with no defendants? With no mercy at all?  

I know the action in the street is excitin’  

But Jesus, between all the bleedin’ and fightin’  

I’ve been readin’ and writin’  

We need to handle our financial situation  

Are we a nation of states? What's the state of our nation  

“I have to ask, the uh, voice person,” Telemachus inquired, “how long did it take the one who made this to write this one song?” 

“An entire year to perfect it,” the disembodied voice responded. 

“Well,” the boy concurred, “it shows, because wow. Bleeding, fighting, reading, writing, are we a nation of states? What’s the state of our nation? This man is pretty epic. You,” he gestured to Alexander, “are incredibly lucky to have a musical made about you at this calibre.” 

“I know right? I’m just that awesome,” Alexander shot back, taking a liking to the boy. He did amaze and astonish, and having a musical made about him blew them all away– particularly Jefferson. 

“Six,” Ody counted. 

I'm past patiently waitin’ I'm passionately  

Smashing every expectation  

Every action's an act of creation  

I'm laughin' in the face of casualties and sorrow  

For the first time, I'm thinkin' past tomorrow  

“For the first time is kinda sad,” Jefferson teased. 

Alexander gave him an incredulous scowl. “Not everyone gets shit delivered on a silver platter like you, clearly.” 

[HAMILTON & COMPANY]  

And I am not throwing away my shot!  

I am not throwing away my shot!  

Hey yo, I'm just like my country  

I'm young, scrappy and hungry  

And I'm not throwing away my shot  

[HAMILTON, LAURENS, LAFAYETTE & MULLIGAN]  

We’re gonna rise up, time to take a shot  

We’re gonna rise up, time to take a shot  

We’re gonna,  

[ENSEMBLE]  

Rise up!  

Rise up  

[HAMILTON]  

It’s time to take a shot 
 
[ENSEMBLE] 

Rise up  

Rise up 
 
[HAMILTON/LAFAYETTE/LAURENS/MULLIGAN] 

Time to take a shot  

[ENSEMBLE]  

Rise up  

Rise up  

Time to take a shot  

Take a shot  

Shot  

Shot  

Ayo it’s  

Time to take a shot  

Time to take a shot  

And I am  

[HAMILTON/LAFAYETTE/MULLIGAN/LAURENS]  

Not throwing away my  

[COMPANY]  

Not throwing away my shot  

“Well... that was no short of a masterpiece,” Aaron admitted, despite having initially denied the cause in the first place. 

Alexander dashed his eyes over to him, like a sleeping agent suddenly awoken by the trigger words– or in this case, the trigger voice, and the trigger compliment. “Coming from you is a damn achievement, my life is accomplished.” 

“Your life is very worthless, then.” 

“Almost! I couldn’t seem to die every time, so surely that counts for something!” 

Wait for it, Burr thought, though this time a little... guiltily. Contemplative. Second-guessing. 

It mattered not, as the next item lit up. 

The Story of Tonight.  

Chapter Text

[HAMILTON]  

I may not live to see our glory  

“Well, that’s a grim way to start a song,” Penelope stated.  

Alexander shrugged. “This is, I’m guessing, one of the better ones.”  

“Getting piss drunk?” Eurylochus raised.  

John cheered lightly at the accusatory... truth? I mean, they were never hiding it. “Hell yeah.”  

“Now that’s what I’m talking about,” Eurylochus replied, grinning.  

[MULLIGAN/LAFAYETTE/LAURENS]  

I may not live to see our glory  

[HAMILTON]  

But I will gladly join the fight  

[MULLIGAN/LAFAYETTE/LAURENS]  

But I will gladly join the fight  

“I s’pose that’s the spirit,” Washington concurred.  

[HAMILTON]  

And when our children tell our story  

[MULLIGAN/LAFAYETTE/LAURENS]  

And when our children tell our story  

[HAMILTON]  

They'll tell the story of tonight  

[MULLIGAN]  

Let's have another round tonight  

[LAFAYETTE]  

Let's have another round tonight  

Eliza couldn’t help but sigh, giving a playful, disapproving face. “You better not be getting drunk before battle. That could be dangerous.”  

“I do my best work drunk,” Lafayette interrupted, “and I would not be surprised if Monsieur Hamilton did too.”  

“Still,” Eliza affirmed her case, “a risk that I don’t think is wise to take. Maybe that’s your strategy but...”  

“It’s fine Betsey,” he laughed, stretching out the fine to a casual degree. “I don’t drink nearly as much as Laf.”  

“I have a feeling that’s not a particularly low bar...” Polites added.  

[HAMILTON]  

Let's have another round tonight  

[LAURENS]  

Raise a glass to freedom...  

Something they can never take away  

No matter what they tell you  

Raise a glass to the four of us  

[LAURENS/MULLIGAN]  

Tomorrow they'll be more of us  

King George let out a short groan with that subtext. What happened to his respect? Did it grow legs and run away one day?  

[MULLIGAN/LAURENS/LAFAYETTE]  

Telling the story of tonight  

[HAMILTON]  

They'll tell the story of tonight  

[MULLIGAN/LAURENS/LAFAYETTE]  

Raise a glass to freedom  

Something they can never take away  

[HAMILTON]  

No matter what they tell you  

[MULLIGAN/LAFAYETTE]  

Let's have another round tonight  

[LAURENS]  

Raise a glass to the four of us  

[HAMILTON/LAURENS/LAFAYETTE/MULLIGAN]  

Tomorrow they'll be more of us  

“This one’s repetitive too,” Telemachus considered, a little thoughtful.  

“I liked the not throwing away my shot one more, but this one is ample,” Ctimene agreed.  

John shrugged. “It’s nostalgic, I guess. I quite like it– good old days, just at the bar, without the adrenaline and the blood. I mean, of course there’s a gift that comes with freedom, but there’s also a cost. This is nice to reminisce about.”  

[HAMILTON/LAURENS]  

Telling the story of tonight  

[MULLIGAN/LAFAYETTE]  

Let's have another round tonight  

[HAMILTON/LAURENS/ENSEMBLE]  

They'll tell the story of tonight  

They'll tell the story of tonight  

They'll tell the story of tonight  

[MULLIGAN/LAFAYETTE/ENSEMBLE]  

Raise a glass to freedom  

Raise a glass to freedom  

They'll tell the story of  

[ENSEMBLE]  

Tonight  

It was... evocatively maudlin. Hamilton, standing at the arid hill in Jersey, watching the great expanse of the sun rise over his New York City– but for a minute, there was no New York cityscape. There was the sentimental smell of beer and rum, a kind of overstimulation that was welcomed and nostalgic, with the cheeriness of their youth and... freedom. It was ironic, wasn’t it? When they were still subjugated under England, they were free. He was free.  

And now?  

He held his pistol, but it was all a show. At least, he was going to be free.  

After this ordeal.  

The Schuyler Sisters.  

Chapter Text

[BURR]  

There's nothing rich folks love more  

Than going downtown and slummin' it with the poor  

“So he is the narrator,” Telemachus noted. 

Aaron batted an eye. “You’re turning into the narrator, kid.” 

“Thanks!” 

It wasn’t a compliment. 

They pull up in their carriages and gawk at the students in the common  

Just to watch 'em talk  

Take Phillip Schuyler, the man is loaded  

“Is that why you married into our family?” Angelica said rather jokingly, though deep down, she knew there was an element of it in there. 

“I–” Alexander came to his defence, “of course not! I love Eliza with all my heart– if anyone should be providing money, it should be me.” 

“Look at how that’s worked out for you,” Jefferson snickered. 

But Alexander was ready to retort, with a prepared speech– not a pleasant sounding one. “Oi you– again! I don’t even know you! Take your prissy head out your ass and shut your damn mouth!” 

“Alexander,” Washington warned, to his dismissal. 

“Alright?” the man perpetuated, unwilling to concede. “It’s embarrassing for you, really. Do you have that little of a life that shitting on my name brings yours up? Have you no shame? Lord, you Virginians are birds of a feather.” 

“Young–” Washington stopped in his tracks, for he was not about to give another full-blown lecture to him in front of a group of foreigners. But if Alexander said one more word– 

“Hey. Don’t speak to him like that,” Madison defended– 

“Shut the fuck up. All of you. You included, Alexander.” 

Hamilton. Hamilton spoke. 

“Listen,” Hamilton continued, for once on the moral high ground, “if you can’t sit down and watch a simulation in tranquillity, we’re going to be here forever. It’s childish, it’s second-handedly mortifying. Jefferson, stop. This version of me barely knows you, and you’re not giving the dashing first impression. Madison, you stand for your damn boyfriend acting like this?” 

“He’s not my–” 

“Lying is a sin,” Hamilton interpolated. “And Alexander? Look, you’re me and all, but running your mouth is gonna wind you up dead. There's only so far you can run up a mountain before you inevitably fall off the precipice, and you’re approaching that. So, don’t. Don’t entertain their bullshit. It’s not worth it.” 

The Greeks were taken aback. 

The Americans were even more taken aback. 

None of them dared to utter a word in response to it– even Jefferson. Not because it was non-rebuttable, but because it was Hamilton saying it. The man who was notorious for running his mouth collectively told them all to be silent. 

What in the world could’ve possibly made Hamilton... change so much? It was forever a question, for there was simply no feasible answer. 

Unless... 

Burr, with perhaps the greatest surprise, expressed his utter agape expression right in Hamilton’s face. This was the same man he alluded to the death of for his incessant blurting, and against all predictions, it would be by his hands. 

But... 

He couldn’t keep running away from the truth. 

The roles had reversed. It was he who did not throw away his shot, and Hamilton who waited for it. 

And, despite Burr’s own pride... without Hamilton, he would’ve achieved nothing– 

No. 

He didn’t believe whatever sympathetic masquerade Hamilton was displaying. 

It was too late to.  

Uh-oh, but little does he know that his daughters  

Peggy, Angelica, Eliza  

Sneak into the city just to watch all the guys at–  

[MEN]  

Work work  

[ANGELICA]  

Angelica  

[MEN]  

Work work  

[ELIZA]  

 Eliza  

While the volume was high, Penelope whispered to her husband, “Their side is so dysfunctional.” 

“And I thought,” Odysseus responded, “that ours was.” 

[PEGGY]  

And Peggy  

[MEN]  

Work work  

The Schuyler sisters  

[ANGELICA]  

Angelica  

[PEGGY]  

Peggy  

[ELIZA]  

Eliza  

[COMPANY]  

Work  

[PEGGY]  

Daddy said to be home by sundown  

“So... where’s she?” Telemachus dared, the silence deafening beneath the audio. 

Angelica shrugged, a little tentative with her response. “Peggy? Not here, I guess– maybe she wasn’t as significant in Alexander’s life.” 

Alexander wanted to pop in a word, but... the stakes were still too high. He’d wait for it. 

Wait– no– 

[ANGELICA]  

Daddy doesn't need to know  

[PEGGY]  

Daddy said not to go downtown  

[ELIZA]  

Like I said you're free to go  

“Wow mon amie,” Lafayette laughed, despite the awkwardness emitted in the room, “such rebels.” 

“We’re as revolutionary as you are,” Eliza chimed. 

[ANGELICA]  

But look around look around the Revolution's happening in New York  

[PEGGY/ELIZA]  

New York  

[COMPANY]  

Angelica  

[SCHUYLER SISTERS/COMPANY]  

Work  

[PEGGY]  

It's bad enough Daddy wants to go to war  

“Did he?” Ctimene asked. 

Angelica shook her head. “Not the one you’ve heard of, at least. He served in several other ones– and, he was recently relieved.” 

“I guess that’s good,” Ctimene added, giving Eurylochus a saddened glance. She wished he could’ve come home earlier... and while she was grateful he came home at all, against all established odds, there was still this pit inside of her. 

What could she do? 

“Yes, thankfully,” Eliza added, “even if he’s not as happy about it. I mean, we’re not exactly obscure figures, as evidenced in this item.” 

[ELIZA]  

People shouting in the square  

[PEGGY]  

It's bad enough there'll be violence on our shore  

[ANGELICA]  

New ideas in the air  

[ANGELICA/MALE ENSEMBLE]  

Look around look around  

[ELIZA]  

Angelica remind me what we're looking for  

[MEN]  

She's looking for me  

[ANGELICA]  

Eliza I'm looking for a mind at work  

I'm looking for a mind at work  

I'm looking for a mind at work  

[COMPANY]  

Work work  

Work work  

Work work  

[ANGELICA]  

Woah  

[SCHUYLER SISTERS]  

Woah  

[SCHUYLER SISTERS/COMPANY]  

Work  

[BURR]  

Wooo, there's nothing like summer in the city  

“Wait,” Aaron wondered, before coming to a daunting realisation, “not this.” 

Angelica shot him a smirk. That couldn’t have meant anything... 

Someone in a rush next to someone looking pretty  

...Good. 

Excuse me miss I know it's not funny  

“OH MY GOD BURR–” and he was cackling. Absolutely, unashamed, laughing like the world hadn’t a care for his expressions. Alexander was always expressive– this was one of those moments. 

“How about you talk–” 

“You 'know it's not funny'? I think it’s damn funny– mister talk less, smile more–” Alexander mocked, prolonging Aaron’s mortification, “and how did that bullshit turn out for you? You tried to flirt with my sister-in-law? You are so– oh my– this is better blackmail than Bartow–” 

But your perfume smells like your daddy's got money  

“And it gets even better! This is priceless, absolutely priceless–” 

Several of the Greeks began to exchange humorous glances, perhaps a few laughs, as both Aaron and Burr face-palmed themselves. The word embarrassment was a severe understatement. 

Why you slummin' in the city in your fancy heels  

You searching for an urchin who can give you ideals?  

“Urchin?” Hercules scoffed, “As if you aren’t well off. Love ya, man, but you can’t be lying to our faces like that.” 

“Philip Schuyler has more money than I,” Aaron replied, unimpressed, “and I was orphaned. Not a lot of money went to me.” 

Angelica snapped her finger, followed by an “Aha! So you were after money!” 

“Really, never denied it,” Aaron threw his hands up, “and was it not obvious with the way I presented myself?” 

“Also, your degree begs to differ,” John retorted, smirking smugly. 

“Hey–” Aaron, whose shield was faltering, covered himself against the arrows everyone was shooting at him. Damn this was a load of backlash– 

Unfortunately, one of the Greeks spoke. 

“Didn’t you call Alexander a bastard orphan in the first tune?” Ctimene inquired, though it was no question– after all, it was a memorable and heavily juxtaposed beginning to Epic. “That’s slightly pious, don’t you think?” 

“I swear to–” 

[ANGELICA]  

Burr you disgust me  

Telemachus cheered, “The correct way to respond!” 

“Why do I have a feeling, mon ami,” Lafayette posed, “that you, Burr, are going to be severely bullied throughout this entire musical item? From the screen to ourselves.” 

“Don’t remind me,” Aaron groaned, taking a massive inhale. 

[BURR]  

Ah so you've discussed me  

I'm a trust fund baby you can trust me  

“And you have officially earned yourself,” Alexander cackled, “a relentless reminder from none other the Alexander Hamilton, for the rest of your dying days, that you unironically said the words I'm a trust fund baby, you can trust me. ” 

[ANGELICA]  

I've been reading Common Sense by Thomas Paine  

Some men say that I'm intense or I'm insane  

“So,” Telemachus clarified, “you’re some kind of women’s liberationist? Which is like, the coolest thing ever?” 

“I mean, you flatter me by putting it in such a fancy way,” Angelica laughed. 

“There needs to be a single word for women’s liberationist,” Penelope agreed. 

Little did they know, it would only be a few years into the American timeline that the word feminist would be first used by a French philosopher. 

You want a revolution? I want a revelation  

So listen to my declaration  

[SCHUYLER SISTERS]  

We hold these truths to be self-evident  

That all men are created equal  

[ANGELICA]  

And when I meet Thomas Jefferson  

I'ma compel him to include women in the sequel  

“Point proven, case rested,” Telemachus smiled. 

Considering Aaron’s holistic approach towards gender equality, he took a liking towards the kid. 

And Angelica, if she didn’t harshly reject him. 

Was it... that bad? 

[WOMEN ENSEMBLE]  

Work  

[ELIZA]  

Look around look around  

At how lucky we are to be alive right now  

[ELIZA/PEGGY]  

Look around look around at how lucky we are to be alive right now  

[SCHUYLER SISTERS]  

History is happening in Manhattan  

And we just happen to be in the greatest city in the world  

“I have to agree with you, Telemachus,” Polites mentioned, “because that was cool– history, happening, Manhattan, happen– I mean, the guy who made this somehow made different tenses of the same word rhyme.” 

“Thank you!” Telemachus beamed, happy that someone concurred with his take. “If I wasn’t an Ithacan prince subjected to a bunch of suitors after my ass all the time, music would’ve been a close second choice.” 

“Always gave you the choice to learn harp,” Penelope reminded her son, reminiscing over a picky young boy who preferred swords over elegance. 

Telemachus gave a childish huff, clearly exaggerated and sarcastic. “I want to be legendary, not basic.” 

To all the Americans, the harp was not basic. 

[SCHUYLER SISTERS/ENSEMBLE]  

In the greatest city in the world  

[ANGELICA]  

Cause I've been reading Common Sense by Thomas Paine  

So men say that I'm intense or I'm insane  

[ELIZA/PEGGY]  

Look around look around  

The revolution's happening in  

[MEN]  

Hey hey hey hey  

Hey hey hey hey  

“Wow,” Ody spoke, “the layering is... wow. I can appreciate it.” 

[ANGELICA]  

You want a revolution?  

I want a revelation  

So listen to my declaration  

[ELIZA/PEGGY]  

New York  

In New York  

[WOMEN]  

Look around look around  

The revolution's happening  

[SCHUYLER SISTERS]  

We hold these truths to be self-evident  

That all men are created equal  

[FEMALE ENSEMBLE]  

Look around look around  

At how lucky we are to be alive right now  

[WOMEN]  

Hey hey hey hey  

Hey hey hey hey  

[COMPANY]  

Look around look around  

At how lucky we are to be alive right now  

History is happening in Manhattan and we just happen to be  

[WOMEN]  

In the greatest city in the world  

[MEN]  

In the greatest city in the world  

“I like this one,” Eliza said, bouncing her head lightly. “And not just because I’m in it. It’s just... happier.” 

[ANGELICA]  

Angelica  

[ELIZA]  

Eliza  

[PEGGY]  

And Peggy  

[SCHUYLER SISTERS]  

The Schuyler sisters  

We're looking for a mind at work  

Hey  

Hey  

[ANGELICA]  

Woah  

In the greatest city in the greatest city in the world  

[ELIZA/PEGGY/ANGELICA]  

In the greatest city in the greatest city in the world  

“That world is my new favourite thing,” Ctimene commented. 

[COMPANY]  

In the greatest city in the world  

“That was a nice watch for the most part,” Odysseus, noncommittally, mentioned. He didn’t outcast anyone physically, but it was evident to whom he was referring to. 

For a change, Ody zoned out of their menial conversation about the song– he turned to Athena, who hadn’t said a word in a while. 

Something in his gut wasn’t sitting right with him. Was something going to happen with them? He could only hope not– Athena was his mentor, and one of his best friends– 

Even if it wasn’t reciprocated. 

Either way, his train of thought was interjected, as the screen flashed big golden letters. 

Farmer Refuted.  

Chapter Text

[SEABURY]  

Hear ye, hear ye  

My name is Samuel Seabury  

“I... context?” Eurylochus posed.  

The revolutionaries subtract Aaron snickered to one another, for this was a core memory. Seventeen-year-old Alexander Hamilton, won a pamphlet debate against forty-five-year-old reverend Samuel Seabury. It was quite a striking moment in his life, and everything only went uphill from there.  

Until it didn’t.  

“You’ll get context,” Hercules cackled, sitting by the edge of his seat.  

And I present “Free Thoughts on the  

Proceedings of the Continental Congress”  

Heed not the rabble who scream revolution  

They have not your interests at heart  

“Ah,” the King of England responded, adding nothing more.  

[MULLIGAN]  

Oh my god, tear this dude apart  

Aaron face-palmed, shooting Hercules a glare, which he returned with a sly smirk. 

 
 
[SEABURY] 

Chaos and bloodshed are not a solution  

“I mean–” Ody challenged, getting a nudge from Polites, which changed his position. “Never mind.”  

Don't let them lead you astray  

This Congress does not speak for me  

[BURR]  

Let him be  

“That’s boring,” Telemachus said sarcastically.  

Alexander’s eyes lit up. “And suddenly you’re my favourite.”  

[SEABURY]  

They're playing a dangerous game  

I pray the king shows you his mercy  

You should, the king mused, though his train of thought was cut by the looks of several revolutionaries. If looks could kill, he’d be imagining death so much it felt more like a memory too.  

For shame  

For shame  

[HAMILTON]  

Yeah  

He'd have you all unravel at the (heed not the rabble)  

“Wait– oh shit that’s kinda cool,” John enamoured, mainly because it was Alex– but he wasn’t about to verbalise that.  

Sound of screams, but the revolution is coming (who scream revolution)  

The have-nots are gonna win this (they have not your interest at heart)  

It's hard to listen to you with a straight face  

A few of the Greeks offer brief snickers, intrigued by the audacious moves of the younger Alexander. It was both extremely brash, somewhat brave, and quite admirable.  

 
 
Chaos and bloodshed (chaos and bloodshed) 

Already haunt us, honestly (are not a solution)  

You shouldn't even talk (don’t let them)  

And what about Boston? (lead you)  

Look at the cost and all that (astray)  

We've lost and you talk about Congress?  

[SEABURY]  

This Congress does not speak for me  

[HAMILTON]  

My dog speaks more eloquently than thee  

“That is,” Telemachus stated, “so far, the best line in this entire musical.”  

“I second that,” Polites laughed. Mr Open Arms agreed with a derogatory comment. The world was truly turning upside down.  

[SEABURY]  

They're playing a dangerous game  

[HAMILTON]  

But strangely your mange is the same  

[SEABURY]  

I pray the king shows you his mercy  

[HAMILTON]  

Is he in Jersey?  

“What good will that do?” Penelope asked, assuming Jersey is another island or city.  

Jefferson popped in this time, and in the utterly rare scenario, was not insulting Alexander or Hamilton. “Everything is legal in New Jersey.”  

“Hence,” Madison added, only because Jefferson replied, “implying,” he gestured to the screen, coughing into his handkerchief before so, “he did a gesture in the air right? That’s a gun fight. Duel. New Jersey legalises duels, as I am sure you Greeks are familiar with– but with pistols.”  

“I see,” Penelope smiled, appreciating the explanation.  

They were tolerable when they weren’t at the top of one another’s lungs over deeply ingrained animosity.  

[SEABURY]  

For shame  

[HAMILTON]  

For the revolution  

[SEABURY]  

For shame  

[ENSEMBLE]  

For the revolution  

“For the revolution!” some of the revolutionaries chimed with the audio, shooting their fists upwards in victory.  

[SEABURY]  

Heed–  

[HAMILTON]  

If you repeat yourself again I'm gonna  

[SEABURY & HAMILTON]  

Scream–  

[HAMILTON]  

Honestly, look at me, please don't read  

[SEABURY]  

Not your interest–  

[HAMILTON]  

Don't modulate the key then  

Not debate with me  

Why should a tiny island across the sea  

Regulate the price of tea?  

[BURR]  

Alexander, please  

“Oh my– you are such a killjoy, mon ami,” Lafayette groaned, exchanging sardonic glares with the man.  

“Would you be so pressed at a King’s Loyalist’s manuscript that you feel obligated to write a response attacking them back?” Aaron deadpanned.  

Lafayette shrugged, noncommittal and casual. “If my English is better.”  

[HAMILTON]  

Burr, I'd rather be divisive  

Than indecisive  

Drop the niceties  

[ENSEMBLE]  

Silence! A message from the King  

A message from the King  

A message from the King  

Several eyes dashed to the King, who made no eye contact whatsoever and sourly fixed his sight on the screen.  

This was going to end quite poorly for him, for the revolutionaries’ glares were dissecting him like daggers.  

He was the king– was this truly how low he stooped?  

Nevertheless, he could only pray to God that his song would do him some justice.  

You’ll Be Back.  

Chapter Text

[KING GEORGE]  

You say  

The price of my love’s not a price that you’re willing to pay  

“Love?” Alexander scoffed, rather incredulously. “Are you fucking kidding me?” 

“What was it that one of you said? This is a musical adaptation,” the king retorted, defensive but not overly so. 

“Not too much of an adaptation from the truth,” Hercules interjected, mumbling his words. 

Lafayette shook his head. “No no Herc, say it louder– casse toi, casse toi!” 

Penelope whispered to her husband, “he really did say it to the king’s face.” 

“Being a king doesn’t mean shit anymore– I mean, a hundred and eight suitors tried to kill me.” Odysseus shrugged, curving the truth. 

“I mean, technically you did–” 

“But when I did it, it was hot, and when they did it, it was attempted regicide.” 

“Case adjourned. You win.” 

You cry  

In your tea which you hurl in the sea when you see me go by  

Why so sad?  

“The pout is funny,” Eurylochus muttered, keeping his volume low to avoid attention from the revolutionaries. 

Remember we made an arrangement when you went away  

Now you’re making me mad  

Remember, despite our estrangement, I’m your man  

“I’m...” Polites introduced, “mildly concerned? What is this... metaphor?” 

“Yeah, your royal highness, what is this lovely innuendo that is most certainly loving and definitely not creepy at all?” Alexander challenged– and if John didn’t clench his hand in warning, he would’ve crept into his pocket and equipped a certain pistol. 

The king withdrew any further comment. 

You’ll be back, soon you’ll see  

You’ll remember you belong to me  

You’ll be back, time will tell  

You’ll remember that I served you well  

“The serving well in question?” John dared, having not let go of Alexander’s wrist, arguably gripping it harder. He was good at mitigating others' anger– not his own. 

Oceans rise, empires fall  

We have seen each other through it all  

And when push comes to shove  

I will send a fully armed battalion to remind you of my love  

“That’s, not... vile at all,” Polites whispered. 

Telemachus bit back a that line delivered amazingly to not seem controversial. 

Da da da dat da dat da da da da ya da  

Da da dat dat da ya da!  

Da da da dat da dat da da da da ya da  

Da da dat dat da  

You say our love is draining and you can’t go on  

You’ll be the one complaining when I am gone  

And no, don’t change the subject  

Cuz you’re my favourite subject  

“Is that... saliva?” Telemachus pointed out the obvious. 

“No, it’s beer,” Jefferson replied sarcastically. 

Alexander shot him an incredulous glare. “No one’s laughing.” 

My sweet, submissive subject  

My loyal, royal subject  

Forever and ever and ever and ever and ever  

“He seems more crazy than evil,” Penelope muttered, mainly in Odysseus’s proximity. 

Odysseus... laughed, leaning back on the couch. “Perhaps this king and I are quite similar. Ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves after all. Wait– not in that aspect, don’t–” 

You’ll be back like before  

I will fight the fight and win the war  

For your love, for your praise  

And I’ll love you till my dying days  

When you’re gone, I’ll go mad  

So don’t throw away this thing we had  

Cuz when push comes to shove  

I will kill your friends and family  

“Oh!” Telemachus said on an impulse. The room was silent and grave– perhaps less so on the Greeks' side, but the solemnity from their opposition was enough to make no further comment. 

To remind you of my love  

Da da da dat da dat da da da da ya da  

Da da dat dat da ya da!  

Da da da dat da dat da da da da ya da  

Da da dat  

Everybody  

[KING GEORGE/ENSEMBLE]  

Da da da dat da dat da da da da ya da  

Da da dat dat da ya da  

Da da da dat da dat da da da da ya da da da da  

Dat dat da ya da  

“Have you frankly zero regard for us? Are we like pawns in a chess game?” Alexander seized his hand out of John’s, standing up boldly against the monarch. 

The king frowned, less offended than they presumed he would be. “Great Britain is why you have a nation in the first place. You are a British Colony.” 

“No. You tax us relentlessly,” John came to defence, “and what happened to the mere concept of freedom? We weren’t free– we were controlled and subjugated. And for what? We’re a British Colony– we also want freedom. Should we keep stating obvious bullshit?” 

He was shaking for the duration of that apprehension– hence, Alexander trailed back into his hand, alleviating his stress. 

“Taxes are the one reason you want freedom?” the king scoffed, incredulous. “One single element is blurring everything else Britain has done for you. Let me ask you something– if you raised your child, cared for them and nursed them and all that dilly dah– would you let them run rogue and cut ties with you because they want to be independent? ” 

“You can’t make that comparison,” Washington snarled, for even he was losing his temper over his logic. 

The king smirked smugly, leaning back. “Thereby, in other words, you have no argu–” 

“Do you have a gun?” 

That was Lafayette’s voice, exigent. 

“I–” King George stopped in his tracks, diminishing to murmurs. 

“Hm?” Lafayette continued, “I think not, mon Roi. I advise you to get lost, because half the men here are armed and you are not. You can’t talk your way out your ass here if I shove this bullet up your tongue. There’s no throne for you to sit smugly on here, and the majority rules against you.” For each sentence, he fired a shot in his proximity but never at the king. 

That shook him enough. 

“Are we clear? Good. Embrasse mon cul.” 

“Good on you, baguette–” the disembodied voice returned, “anyways, here’s a little intermission time– do what you want. You can talk to your own folks, talk to the people from the other side, whatever. Knock yourself out. There’s a restroom and water. I don’t care. Just don’t all be antisocial.” 

Part one concluded for both musicals, as a fifteen-minute timer flashed on the screen. 

Chapter Text

“That– all of that–” Telemachus commented, “was no short of... something.”  

“You don’t say, kid,” Eurylochus added, filling the voided silence in the room.  

And, as precedented, silence followed.  

Hamilton was the first one to get up, eyeing the rest of the crowd mildly before heading to the restrooms. Burr was the same; except, he made sure to wait for it, allowing Hamilton a few extra seconds of entrance so he didn’t have to interact with him.  

Nevertheless, he miscalculated.  

Hamilton stood before the mirrors, splashing water on his face aimlessly. He kept himself sustained for the duration of the videos, but here was where he could shatter– just a little bit, for a little while.  

Until Burr disturbed the peace.  

He quickly splattered more water on his face to amalgamate the tears with the tap excess. He made a conscious, yet unconscious, forced move to shift angularly, tilted away from Burr. They didn’t have any special last conversation at the place of the duel– they weren’t going to now.  

Unless.  

Burr said nothing more. He offered a noncommittal, obfuscated glance, before entering a stall.  

Strange.  

Either way, Hamilton wrapped up his little breakdown, for it was pathetic, and left the–  

“Philip?”  

The rest of the crew stood around in a semicircle, scattered but evident– and at the core of them, was...  

“Oh, Papa!” Philip grinned, gleeful and joyous and unaffected. This was pre-duel.  

This was his chance.  

Hamilton spared no more words, nor anymore deep, futile contemplations where he perpetuated the most heartless of actions. Not plain vile, but very much inconsiderate.  

Not anymore. He made so many mistakes in his lifetime. This would barely be enough to rectify it, but it would be better than nothing.  

Or just... fuck it.  

Hamilton practically charged at Philip, at a momentum much paralleled to Odysseus and Telemachus’s reunion. He swung his arms around the boy, shaking a little too violently for a man who never sobbed.  

But today, he sobbed.  

And sobbed.  

And sobbed.  

“I– pa?” Philip, much perplexed, tentatively whispered. He patted his father’s back incessantly and hesitantly, looking around a little helplessly.  

Yet part of him was... satisfied. He didn’t get this affection– ever. His father was never around, never home, just never...  

He stopped patting indiscriminately, resting his arms around Hamilton, gentle and timid.  

Philip never hurt a soul; he must’ve been so scared.  

No one dared to interrupt this moment. Not even Jefferson.  

The two stood there, for once Philip being the sturdy, tender touch– unlike Hamilton, who is jittering, shaking, quaking. There was nothing to think, nothing to do, nothing to... be.  

His prayers were answered.  

Philip– his son, his faith, his light– the kind of light that outshined the morning sun.  

He lost everything– at least everything he was ever worth having. All he had left was Eliza– who, by default, should hate him.  

Emotions were strange.  

As of now, they were unleashed, messy and disorderly and just... there. He didn’t care. For once he didn’t care what anyone thought. What anyone said.  

This was his one chance.  

His one shot.  

And he wasn’t going to throw it away.  

...  

“Fifteen minutes is up!”  

The disembodied voice, to everyone’s dismay, disturbs the peace.  

“Anyways,” the voice continued, “we have another special guest that’ll be joining us!”  

“C’mon,” Ody intercepted, “you couldn’t have done that–”  

P–  

“...earlier.”  

Poseidon.  

Odysseus visibly flinched, as expected, followed by grimaces from Telemachus, Ctimene, and Penelope. The three other guys exchanged afraid but unaffected glances, and...  

“Well, if it isn’t the infamous Odysseus of Ithaca, for what is perhaps the fifth time.”  

Poseidon carried a lethargy that was less threatening than usual. Not that it wasn’t menacing– but he seemed... done for. Not quite over it, but certainly done.  

Not yet, however.  

Ignoring the Americans, he stood before the Ithacan king, towering over him impatiently. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t rip you to shreds, head to toe, as you stand here.”  

These threats were empty, for after all, he made a vow. An unwilling vow.  

Odysseus was blunt, putting a predicted arm in front of defensive members of his family who stepped forward. “It would seem that no reason I give would be suffice.”  

The fates had been on his side four times already. Perhaps a fifth...?  

“Then–” Poseidon continued, before–  

“Me.”  

The voice emerged from behind, a feminine, domineering–  

Athena?  

“Poseidon,” she perpetuated, maintaining a pitch that was audible but not plagued by emotions, “I advise you to maintain your distance. We both know how matters ended for you last time.”  

As she spoke, his trident dissolved, an additional aftereffect that was seemingly performed by Athena, but puppeteered by the disembodiment that controlled this event. She equipped her spear, pointing it at a clear distant from Poseidon’s neck, but not close enough to unintentionally slit it.  

This had become a habit now, protecting Odysseus.  

It was very much two-sided.  

“Have I made myself clear?” Athena confirmed, cocking a brow.  

Expecting some outburst, Odysseus was... impressed, to say the least, at his subsequent reaction. “Be my guest.”  

With that, they all seated themselves, very much reluctantly. The order stayed similar; except, Telemachus and Philip had some intrinsic attraction, likely due to their age. Or... some form of potential, pre-empted connection that ought to spike.  

That would be later verified.  

Burr and Hamilton made a conscious effort to sit on either side of their half, avoiding any eye contact possible – though, Hamilton did, supposedly, accidentally end up next to his son. Contrarily, Alexander and Aaron were two seats away from one another, with Eliza and Laurens staying by Alexander’s side.  

The screen flickered alive, with big, red text flashing back at them.  

Polyphemus.  

Chapter Text

[ODYSSEUS]  

Over here!  

No. Not now. Not ever. 

[POLITES]  

Look at all this food, look at all these sheep  

“He’s alive,” Penelope whispered to her hyperventilating husband, predicting this reaction. “They all are.” 

“I know,” Odysseus replied, tersely and very much disbelievingly. I know, he repeated vainly in his head. 

Polites was alive. Eurylochus was alive. All six hundred men were alive. 

I can't believe this cave has all this for us to keep  

But... 

[EURYLOCHUS]  

I've gotta hand it to you both, this is quite the treat  

“Nothing is a treat in this journey,” Ctimene shrugged, purposefully oblivious to Odysseus’s theatrics. Not because she didn’t care... but perhaps there was a bit of saltiness on this part. She might’ve gotten a rushed, panicked recount of the story, but she retained it well. 

This was the whole debacle with the Cyclops. This was the ultimate catalyst. 

This was where everything went down. 

There are enough sheep here to feed the entire fleet  

[ODYSSEUS]  

It's almost too perfect, too good to be true  

“At least you’re self-aware,” Alexander dared, receiving a firm nudge from Aaron. 

Right. His supposedly righteous, ruthless journey was documented, written, and lyricised for the whole world to see his plateau of mistakes. 

Burr made subtle glances between both Hamiltons. When did it change? When did his blatant hypocrisy turn quiet? 

Why would the lotus eaters pass up on all this food?  

[POLYPHEMUS]  

Who are you?  

“What is that?” the King muttered, mildly disgusted. 

Alexander shot the monarch a sharp glance, using his eyes to communicate the father of said Cyclops is here, shut the fuck up. He settled for, “I’d watch your mouth if I were you.” 

This is where it begins, Poseidon mused, ignoring the mortals. He was confident that this simulation would only work in his favour. 

[ODYSSEUS]  

Hey there  

We're just travellers  

We come in peace  

Odysseus held back a laugh. 

[POLYPHEMUS]  

You killed my sheep  

My favouritе sheep  

What gives you the right to deal a pain so deep  

Don't you know that pain you sow is pain you reap?  

“I think he learns his lesson,” Ctimene commented, both defensively and salty. There was love just as much as there was vengeance. 

Time to drink  

Your blood over where you stand  

Your life now is in my hand  

Before I'm done  

You will learn that it's not so fun to take  

You came to my home to steal  

But now you'll become my meal  

A trade, you see?  

Take from you like you took from me  

“To be fair, they didn’t know that the sheep belonged to him,” Angelica mentioned. 

And, of course, to everyone’s dismay, Jefferson spoke. “You don’t just go around killing random sheep.” 

“Are you deaf?” Alexander spat, reigniting the flame. “Did you not pay attention a few songs ago, how the war’s food store’s depleted? Or are you just intellectually incompetent?” 

“I am not,” Jefferson scowled, “thank you. Still, that wasn’t theirs for the taking. Sheep have lives, y’know.” 

“Okay, and what about your slaves?” 

Several gasps filled the room, including Jefferson himself. He had nothing to say, his mouth agape. 

That shut him up. 

[ODYSSEUS]  

There's been a misunderstanding  

We never came here to steal  

You sure about that? Jefferson thought, but kept it there. The glares Alexander threw were fierce enough to inundate his voice. 

But now that I see we've done some damage  

Maybe you and I could make a deal  

I'll give you our finest treasure  

So long as we leave alive  

You can keep the world's best tasting wine  

[POLYPHEMUS  

Wine?  

Penelope was beyond impressed that the most Poseidon had done was glare menacingly at Odysseus. Perhaps Athena’s words truly do hold great power, even to her predecessors. 

[ODYSSEUS]  

Have a drink  

One sip and you'll understand  

The power that's in your hands  

A wine so fresh  

You'd never wanna eat human flesh again  

Then we shall be on our way  

No bloodshed in here today  

A trade, you see?  

A gift from you and a gift from me  

“Again, am I the only one with a bad feeling about this?” Eliza muttered. 

John shook his head. “I think we all do.” 

[POLYPHEMUS]  

Ah, I'd like to thank you  

Stranger, what's your name?  

[ODYSSEUS]  

My name is nobody, nobody, nobody  

“This sounds like both the smartest and dumbest stunt simultaneously,” Washington discussed. 

Odysseus shrugged, taking it as a chance to forget about the imminent, dreadful event approaching. “It was probably one of my smarter moves.” 

[POLYPHEMUS]  

Nobody, for your gift I've one to reply  

[ODYSSEUS]  

I'm so glad we see eye to eye  

“Was eye to eye necessary? Singular?” Madison raised. 

[POLYPHEMUS]  

Yes, you shall be the final man to die  

[ODYSSEUS]  

What?  

Watch out!  

“He wasn’t wrong now, was he?” Jefferson finally regained the confidence to say. Many came to Odysseus’s defence, opening mouths, but before they could, he stood up, approaching the bathroom. 

“I can’t do this,” he whispered, mainly to Penelope, trying to open the door– 

Locked. 

It’s. Locked. 

“Why this is convenient,” he scowled, trying to sound inconvenienced than genuinely pained. He was genuinely pained. Anything, anywhere else– just not here– 

Survive.  

Chapter Text

[ODYSSEUS]  

My brothers  

The rest of our fleet  

They wait at the beach  

And if we're defeated, they’re good as dead  

Odysseus settled in a corner. He was not dealing with this. 

He wasn’t given a choice.  

Straight ahead, that is who we're fighting  

No backup, no chance for support  

Thankfully, this wasn’t a lonely battle. Penelope stood up from her seat, kneeling next to Odysseus. Telemachus turned back, concerned but glued to his seat– his father looked as though he needed space. 

“That’s a full-grown man,” Jefferson whispered, quiet enough not to draw attention. Madison’s expressions were grim– he didn’t entertain him. 

So draw out your swords  

Our foe must be thwarted right here and now  

Show me how great is your will to survive  

Six hundred lives at stake  

Ody himself was sitting on the edge of his seat, his left leg shaking violently. This trepidation was far from adventurous– it was terrifying. And with his elder self’s reaction, things weren’t going so well for his presumptions. 

He even dared to take a glimpse at Poseidon, who was glaring right back at... Athena? The two were telepathically communicating something, and it sure didn’t seem to be in good heart. 

On the other hand, Polites was... conflicted. If this didn't end up... well, there would be one man to blame. 

Himself. 

But surely not. Kindness is reciprocated– goodness will be returned with goodness. 

Right? 

It's just one life to take  

And when we kill him then our journey’s over  

No dying on me now  

Defeat is not allowed  

We must live through this day so  

Fight, fight, fight  

“I know how this story goes,” muttered Telemachus, not with much intent, though directed to Philip. He was unsure why that slipped– this boy, he had only just met mere minutes ago. 

Telemachus was, undeniably, lonely. Being the Prince of Ithaca didn’t make him friends– if anything, it broke him. They savaged him whenever they could. They wanted to see his head on a spike. 

But even then, with a childhood robbed and full of fear, he yearned for friendship. 

Even. Just. One.  

[ODYSSEUS/ENSEMBLE]  

Surround him (surround him)  

“Sounds like it doesn’t end well?” Philip supposed, his voice tinged with sorrow. 

Telemachus added no more. The answer was right in front of them. 

Attack from behind, keep distance in mind  

And stay in his blind spot and strike his heels (strike the heels)  

“Hm,” Poseidon snickered, “blind spot.” 

Other expressions were not amused. 

Show him that we're deadly  

Exhaust him (exhaust him)  

Don't let him get close, he's strong but he's slow  

“He’s confident, that’s for sure,” Alexander mused. 

Aaron interjected with his most cliché comment ever. “Confidence doesn’t always equate to intelligence.” 

“For me it does,” Alexander smirked. He got a glare or two, but he did amaze and astonish. 

What his oblivious self didn’t realise was not his ego, but his insensitivity. 

He can't land a blow if we're out of reach  

Find a breach  

Stand up and fight for your lives  

Six hundred lives at stake  

It's just one life to take  

“And why do I have a bad feeling like they won’t kill the creature?” Laurens predicted, correctly for that matter. 

Alexander nudged his friend, speaking as if the situation at hand were hardly a big deal. “Bingo.” 

“Oh,” the former offered, adding no more. 

And when we kill him then our journey’s over  

(Push forward)  

No dying on us now  

Defeat is not allowed  

We must live through this day so  

Fight, fight, fight  

And this was the punchline. Odysseus buried his throbbing head into his knees, covering his ears like a child. Like a fucking child. The world stopped, like some cruel, higher vain clicked the pause button of his life. He was in the eye of a hurricane– and there was quiet. That was it. Painful, nothing-like, quiet. No sound, no sensation, no anything. 

Only a relentless heartbeat, inconsistent and pounding. 

Penelope’s arms lost traction, his back growing numb, as his ears were confounded with a blistering ringing noise. The world began to move again, but much slowly– a kind of slow that was agonising, unlike the Quick Thought he was used to. 

He wanted out. 

Wanted out. 

Out.  

[POLITES]  

Captain  

No.  

[POLYPHEMUS]  

Enough  

Breathe. 

[ENSEMBLE]  

He’s got a club  

Breathe– 

He's got a club!  

He couldn’t breathe–  

“Odysseus, my love,” Penelope whispered, a fragile balance between panic and comfort, “please, stay with me.” 

He opened his mouth, but nothing. Nothing came out but broken croaks, as if he were choking on blood. The blood that hundreds of men shed for him. 

Polites.  

He settled with shaking his head. He barely gathered the cognition to do so, hence this was a mild progression. 

What are our orders?  

Captain? Captain!  

“They’re alive, my love,” she insisted, rubbing his back incessantly, “this was all in the past.” 

He didn’t stop. Nothing of his was in control– not even his mind. He was a spectator in his own body, watching it spasm and jerk and scream and cry all in deadly silence.  

[POLYPHEMUS]  

You’ve hurt me enough  

“Stop,” he managed, hardly a whimper, “please.” 

Six hundred lives I'll take  

Six hundred lives I'll break  

Penelope never felt so helpless. Her husband, her love, a stranger gone for twenty years– but she still loved him, ever so dearly, more than anyone and anything in the world. 

Except she knew, deep down, the man before her was different. He was hardened, harmed, and hurt, a kind of irreversible damage he’d be forced to live with. She could hear the story start to finish again and again, but she could never surmount the true weight of his pain. 

Distance. Distance was horrible. 

But... what could she do? 

And when I kill you then my pain is over  

You're dying here and now  

Escape is not allowed  

You won’t live through this day now die  

Die  

Distracted by Odysseus’s presence, everyone overlooked a panicky Ody, hyperventilating just as much. 

Well, almost everyone. 

“I–” Polites murmured, utterly shocked, “Ody, I’m still here–” 

“You died–” 

“No I didn’t,” Polites reassured, but even his own belief was wearing thin. The evidence was right before him, and his frail attempts to block it out were becoming more and more in vain.  

Still, for his friend, he persisted. “I’m alive, Ody, see? Alive and well– we can prevent this–” 

“But what if we can’t?” Ody sobbed, an absolute mess. “What if we don’t remember this whole thing? What if you’ll die another way? What if–” 

Before he could continue, Polites placed a finger over his lips. “Stop– all these what if scenarios aren’t certain. They’re possibilities, unfortunately yes– but equally so, what if we do remember this whole thing? What if I don’t die if we prevent this? We'll be okay, my friend– I swear it–” 

Meanwhile, Odysseus is grappling with the fact that not every issue can be settled by calming down. He needed tangibility, proof that Polites was fine– 

Polites. 

Polites– 

“Polites...?” he murmured, a figure appearing before him. This wasn’t the younger version, still innocent and kind– this was a version that was different, that was changed, that was... his.  

The Polites of the present. The Polites who was alive.  

The latter sighed, followed by, “I knew this would happen. It’s me, my friend.” 

Alas, Odysseus snapped back. The last time they spoke ended on undesirable terms, with Odysseus giving Polites a piece of mind for hypocrisy against Eurylochus. A few days of silence, but a few days too many. 

Until now. 

“Polites–” Odysseus whimpered. “Polites–” 

The floodgates exploded, as he slammed his arms around his friend, sobbing profusely. 

“I’m alive,” Polites comforted, rubbing his back continuously. “I promise.” 

There was fear, and there was clarity. The storm he braced for, with a lack of preparation, began to subside. 

He was alive. He was alive.  

Polites. Was. Alive.  

“You can relax, my friend.” 

With that, the screen flickered to the next song. 

Remember Them.  

Chapter Text

[EURYLOCHUS]  

Captain!  

Captain!  

Captain!  

Captain!  

“Surely it ends here,” Eliza muttered, concern entrenched in her. 

Penelope and Telemachus exchanged looks, refraining from communicating that this was merely the start.  

[ODYSSEUS]  

We must move quickly, we don't have much time  

He didn't notice I mixed lotus in his wine  

Mark my words now, this is not the end  

“Far from it,” Alexander quipped, but only a whisper to prevent any controversies. There was enough tension in the room and certainly no need to proliferate it. 

Which should’ve been a call to shoot himself in the mouth and shut himself up, but it was the Alexander Hamilton. Talking less was simply beyond his capabilities. 

[EURYLOCHUS]  

But captain, what'll we do with our fallen friends?  

[ODYSSEUS]  

Remember them  

“How sweet,” Jefferson cackled, “maybe they’ll have an extravagant tea party with the disintegrated remnants while the threat lurks around. Back to Ithaca they go!” 

“Watch who you’re calling a threat,” Poseidon refuted, making an irrevocable glare with no room for argument. 

Jefferson, being the valiant man he was, vindicated on arguing with a literal God. “He’s not much of a threat being passed out fucked in his own home.” 

“I didn’t make you out to be the suicidal type,” Hamilton whispered curtly. 

Jefferson was quick to retaliate. “And whatever might you–” 

A centimetre. 

Poseidon’s trident shot past a mere centimetre away from Jefferson’s ear. 

“Mess around and find out,” Poseidon stated, almost noncommittally, and doing... no more? It was almost uncanny, seeing the God of the Sea perpetuate no further fancy. 

When the fire begins to fade  

For the fallen and afraid  

We are not to let them die in vain  

About that, Odysseus internally whimpered from afar, still holding Polites tightly. 

He was here. 

He was here to stay. 

He decided to stay. 

At least something was consistent in the chasm, a light that he could follow amidst the darkness. 

Remember them  

We're the ones who carry on  

The flames of those who've gone  

And our comrades will not die in vain  

I need all our hands on his club  

This is how we're getting out of here  

Use your swords to sharpen the stub  

And turn it to a giant spear  

“I forget you’re actually known for your tactics, not your utter...” Burr broke off, realising the offensiveness in his terminology. 

“Stupidity?” Ody laughed, over his tears and all. “I can damn right tell. I should’ve known. I should’ve known the world was incapable of kindness.” 

[ENSEMBLE]  

Let's kill him!  

“That’s not– Ody,” Polites murmured, “that’s simply not true.” 

“Kindness killed you, if you needed a reminder,” Ody reinstated, vehement in his stance. There was no room for kindness in a world like this– there was either guilt, or bloodshed, or both. 

[ODYSSEUS]  

His body is blocking the path  

If we kill him, we'll be stuck inside  

“No, I think you need a reminder,” Polites almost ranted, before he recomposed himself. “Look. I think all of this... acting out is just grief. You pity yourself, you want to avenge me, and in turn, nothing good is going to go your way. Ruthlessness will never be the way.” 

[EURYLOCHUS]  

Captain, where do we attack him?  

“How can that be?” Ody persisted, “because we both saw it– open arms murdered you. Naively trusting anyone is false. Ruthlessness won the war– it'll be the only way home.” And to not let you die in vain, he unspoke. 

[ODYSSEUS]  

We gotta stab him in the eye  

“Maybe, but–” Polites sighed, because emotional appeal was not cutting it. “If kindness didn’t exist, there would be no evil. There would be no goodness to compare it to. We always strive for kindness, even if it does not always go our way– but that’s the desire. Perhaps it mightn’t have worked out for me, but that doesn’t make it apply to everything. There is still goodness in this world. I promise.”  

[ENSEMBLE]  

Yes sir  

Remember them  

When the fire begins to fade  

“How can you still be so optimistic?” Ody muttered, “After the events that very clearly happened?” 

“Because,” Polites affirmed, “I couldn’t possibly want my one mishap to detract from the goal ahead, and that would be returning to Ithaca. If not for yourself, at least for me. Maybe my math ends in that Cyclops cave, but that doesn’t mean that yours does too. And no– I was probably wrong for being too optimistic and too naive– but being cruel and cynical is also the wrong extremity. Without balance, there is seldom success.” 

Suddenly, it amazed the current Polites, that his past self was capable of all this... hope, even after hell. 

For the fallen and afraid  

We are not to let them die in vain  

“I guess you’re not... completely wrong,” Ody admitted, shying away from the screen. 

Polites reassured him, rubbing his back and leaning in. “It doesn’t have to be this way. We have to meet somewhere in the middle of cruelty and compassion. After this, we won’t let this happen.” 

Suddenly, it amazed Odysseus that his past self was able to admit to his... wrongs. 

[ODYSSEUS/ENSEMBLE]  

Remember them  

We're the ones who carry on  

The flames of those who've gone  

And our comrades will not die in vain  

[ODYSSEUS]  

Now  

Scatter  

“That was certainly a contradictory speech to what is happening on screen,” Madison mused, adjusting his cravat. 

Jefferson only nodded, slipping his fear of a certain sea god. 

[CYCLOPES]  

Who hurts you?  

[EURYLOCHUS]  

There are more of them?  

[Cyclopes]  

Who hurts you?  

[ODYSSEUS]  

Hide  

[CYCLOPES]  

Who hurts you?  

[EURYLOCHUS]  

Captain, we should run  

[ODYSSEUS]  

Wait  

I think you’ve made enough mistakes, Jefferson bit back, somewhat learning his lesson. In a few songs, he’d probably forget it anyway. 

He did admit, there was a bigger threat in the room. 

[CYLOPES]  

Who hurts you?  

[EURYLOCHUS]  

Captain, please!  

[ODYSSEUS]  

Wait!  

[POLYPHEMUS]  

It was Nobody, Nobody  

[CYCLOPES]  

If nobody hurts you, be silent  

[POLYPHEMUS]  

Don’t go!  

“That ridiculous scheme of yours actually worked? Impressive,” the king exclaimed, conveying that he was both surprised and... perhaps a little anticlimactic about it. 

“Shockingly,” Eurylochus whispered. 

[ODYSSEUS]  

Let's grab the sheep and away we go  

[ATHENA]  

Have you forgotten the lessons I taught you?  

“Oh great,” Odysseus muttered under his breath, only loud enough for Penelope to hear. Thankfully, Athena didn’t hear that. 

Or did she? 

He's still a threat until he's dead  

Finish it  

[ODYSSEUS]  

No  

“I take back my compliment,” the king corrected. 

[ATHENA]  

No?  

[ODYSSEUS]  

What good would killing do  

When mercy is a skill more of this world could learn to use  

“I suppose that bullshit rant of yours really sucked into his skull,” Alexander went on his favourite tangent– talking about literally anything that would put his head on a spike. He wouldn’t even mind that, which made him talk so freely. “So much so the screen sucked it in.” 

If Jefferson wasn’t gonna get shot, Alexander certainly was. 

Such foreshadowing, Burr thought. He wished he didn’t– 

No. It was too late to change his mind. 

Right?  

My friend is dead, our foe is blind  

The blood we shed, it never dries  

Is this what it means to be a warrior of the mind?  

[ATHENA]  

Don't!  

[ODYSSEUS]  

Hey, Cyclops!  

“Oh god,” John groaned. 

“Oh my,” Lafayette raised his brow simultaneously with Laurens. 

When we met, I led with peace  

While you fed your inner beast  

But my comrades will not die in vain  

“You kinda broke into his place,” Jefferson shrugged, breaking his earlier vow. It didn’t take songs, it took seconds.  

Ody shot him a glare. “Whose side are you on? You’re bouncing side to side like a skipping rope.” 

“I don’t have to be loyal to a side,” Jefferson shrugged. 

Thankfully, this was an insult to the opposition, so Poseidon did not interfere. 

Remember them  

The next time that you dare choose not to spare  

Remember them  

Remember us  

Remember me  

I'm the reigning king of Ithaca  

“Yep, give them your full government name,” Philip sighed, unimpressed. 

I am neither man nor mythical  

“And gloat about it,” John added. 

I am your darkest moment  

“And you said that to Poseidon’s... son?” Alexander questioned, despite knowing the story. He had to truly confirm his utterly imbecilic... decision. 

“Not my sharpest move, if you couldn’t tell,” Odysseus brushed off, mostly because he was tired from the thought of it. 

I am the infamous  

Odysseus  

“At least you’re... somewhat self-aware?” Angelica backhandedly muttered. 

Odysseus refrained from rolling his eyes. “I appreciate the encouragement.” 

Silence. 

Silence always followed, and it never meant any good. 

There was little room for discussion, yet so much room for retribution. So many... unanswered questions, or questions that’d been answered and left. 

Both Odysseus and... Athena knew perfectly well what was to come, and how much they had yearned to avoid it. But alas, when have either of them gotten what they wanted? 

Without further ado, the screen’s unforgiving light lit up evilly, cruelly glaring straight back at them. 

My Goodbye.