Chapter Thirty Nine

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A/N: I'm really upset that I didn't pass my final driving test, so I thought writing a new chapter might help cheer me up. ๐Ÿฅฒ๐Ÿ’”

Metanoia did everything in her power to avoid Pan as though he were the plague over the next few days. Every time she saw him approach her or someone sat close to her, she'd make a point of standing up and walking away, but not before she'd shoot him a nasty glare. Even the Lost Boys could tell that there was an unmistakable hostility between the two of them, and it puzzled them beyond comprehension. Last they checked, Pan and Metanoia were abnormally close. No one tried asking her what had happened between the two of them, because every time Pan's name would rise to the surface of their conversations, Metanoia would scowl profusely, and change the topic of discussion swiftly.

Of course, David took it upon himself to behave as the shoulder to lean on, swooping in strategically to be the centre of Metanoia's attention and luring her into catching feelings for him. Metanoia was blissfully oblivious to his childish tactics, and instead just simply welcomed his company. However, despite David's ample effort to erase whatever twisted feelings she felt for Pan, Metanoia grudgingly found herself to get the fawn-haired, beautifully catastrophic boy out of her mind and heart. Every moment she spent without Pan increasingly allowed her to miss him more and more.

Metanoia loathed herself for missing him. She had no right to; Peter had proven to her that wasn't to be trusted. Theodore might have broken her trust before, but it hurt a lot more when it was Pan breaking her trust. Perhaps she should have known better. She should have known that someone as cruel and vindictive as Peter Pan is not someone one can entirely depend on. Of course he wasn't dependable. Peter Pan only cared for none other than himself, and he's always been clear with this.

After a tiresome day of rock climbing in training, and conducting weaponry maintenance as their daily task, Metanoia was beyond ecstatic to crawl into her bed as soon as she was done having dinner. She didn't bother changing into her nightwear, neither did she give it a thought to shower. She was far too tired to take another step. Pulling her covers over her shoulders, Metanoia fluttered her eyes shut, and sleep immediately engulfed her.

Everything was so dark. It felt like an endless pit wide and long, with no source of light. Her hearing was muffled, but she could still hear the faint cries of a creature from afar. She rapidly blinked, trying to adjust her sight to the darkness embracing her, but even her feet felt odd against the surface she stood on. It requires energy to move, more energy than usual, and her toes buried themselves in the surface, like sand. Suddenly, Metanoia heard screams of palpable rage, causing her to jolt, and her feet left the surface, and instead, hovered above. Frowning, she suddenly realised she was underwater.

How on earth did she get there, and how was she breathing underwater?

She started swimming towards the screams that were practically ringing through her ears so chillingly, it caused her to shiver. There, right in the centre of oblivion, shone a light so bright that it momentarily blinded Metanoia, shielding her from whoever was entrapped in this painful brightness. She squinted, blinking rapidly as her eyes adjusted to the sudden light, and as soon as she did, the girl gasped at the sight before her. Chained down to metal bars, heavy weights forcefully chained to him, was the very same man Metanoia had dreamt of long ago. The man who placed his hand on her shoulder as she felt troubled for being short-tempered. The man who comforted her. The man who raised her. Imprisoned brutally with unbearable weights squishing him in his cell, his four limbs chained with metal against the bars, was Greek God Ares, the once Mighty God of War. Reduced to this pitiful state.

Metanoia jolted violently awake, gasping shrilly, before she coughed vigorously. Suddenly, seawater fled her mouth as she coughed, and her eyes widened horrifically. This wasn't just a dream. What she had witnessed must have truly been real. Her head spun erratically as she trembled under her sheets.

Her father was being tortured, and Metanoia was not interested in finding him before. But now, after witnessing his heartbreaking state, Metanoia felt the guilt eat her raw. This was her family, a fundamental part of her bloodline. Granted, she had little recollection of who her father was, but she could find out when she rescues him.

She needed to rescue him.

Metanoia flung out of bed, in the late hours of Neverland's night, and quickly fled her treehouse. She was far too distraught, and was in desperate need of a walk to at least sort out her thoughts before taking any action. She climbed down her ladder, and took fast strides towards the beach. It was far too cold, the wind nipping at her face with no remorse, and causing the girl to subconsciously hug herself in order to conserve whatever warmth she possessed. At this moment, not even her thick cloak she wore was doing anything to keep her warm. Winter was fast approaching in Neverland, and this would be her first time experiencing it on the island. When Metanoia gave it a moment's thought, she'd quickly realised that she had spent almost six months on Neverland now. She'd first arrived during the hot days and nights of summer, with autumn quickly rolling by, and winter hiding right around the corner.

The troubled girl halted in her tracks abruptly upon hearing hushed, angry voices just beyond the leaves concealing the beach from her view, and Metanoia quickly hid behind a large tree. She peered around it curiously, her gaze landing beyond the borders of their division and over to the little stretch of shore Pan had allowed the Indians to claim. An Indian guard was standing over the sand, facing the water, with an unmistakably remarkable-looking woman staring right back at him, swimming in the water. Metanoia furrowed her brows suspiciously, and strained her ears to eavesdrop.

"My leader demands an audience with your king, Nefaria. I advise you to listen closely and actually notify King Trident." The Indian warrior spoke coldly, but the woman was hardly fazed, and Metanoia quickly clocked the woman to be a mermaid.

The mermaid, Nefaria, rolled her eyes in annoyance. "You mentioned something about a blue moon. I have already notified my king of this - so why are you here again to remind us? We never forget what we've been told, or what we know."

The Indian guard clenched his fists impatiently. "Tiger Lily insists that your people give her enough security during her audience with your King. Knowing Pan's history of infiltration, she cannot risk having him intrude and harming everyone."

Nefaria sighed, evidently bored with this conversation, before she replied, "Very well, then. We will have the utmost security in place. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have more pressing matters to attend to."

Metanoia quickly concealed herself behind the tree again as the Indian guard turned around to walk away. She waited until he was no longer close, when Metanoia decided to just head back to camp, when a voice ripped through the silent air around her.

"You there." The female voice called out sharply. "Step out so I could see you."

Metanoia froze at Nefaria's words. She contemplated running off and ignoring the mermaid, but Metanoia wouldn't be who she was if not unmistakably curious.

"I'm not going to hurt you, if that's what you're wondering." The mermaid added teasingly, before Metanoia rolled her eyes and finally stepped into view.

"It's not." She immediately replied as she stepped closer on the shores of Pan's division. "As far as my knowledge takes me, mermaids are powerless on land."

Nefaria's jaw ticked in slight annoyance as she floated in the water, and raised her head high as she watched the Lost Girl cross her arms over her chest defensively.

"It's impolite to listen in on other people's conversations." Nefaria commented, eyeing Metanoia suspiciously.

"It's also impolite, if not cowardly, to secretly conspire against others." Metanoia raised an eyebrow challengingly at Nefaria, causing the mermaid to smirk.

"Who said anything about conspiring?" The mermaid pretended to be oblivious, but Metanoia quickly shot her down.

"I am well aware of the audience Tiger Lily has requested of your king." Metanoia lifted her chin arrogantly. "Don't try to lie your way out of this."

Nefaria's lips twitched, her tone hostile as she tilted her head to the side and observed the Lost Girl. "You are quite loyal to him, aren't you?"

Metanoia didn't budge. "Loyal to who?"

"To your leader." Nefaria hissed. "The boy who struts around the island as though it was always destined to be his."

Metanoia's eyes narrowed. "Isn't it destined to be ruled by him?"

Nefaria rolled her eyes, her mermaid tail slapping the water angrily. "It is not his to claim. He was tossed here and he decided to make a home out of it."

Metanoia glared at her heatedly. "You dare speak of Pan in such a disrespectful manner? Have you really not heard of the horror stories revolving around Pan's horrors inflicted on his victims?" Taking a step closer to the water, Metanoia pressed. "Anyone who defies him, anyone who dares get in his way - anyone, and they meet their brutal demise at his hands."

Nefaria gulped, and shrugged a shoulder. "I'm not disrespecting Peter Pan, foolish girl. He is more than welcome to stay in Neverland, but forcing his monarchy onto us? That's a different story."

Metanoia gazed at her for a few moments, before demanding boldly. "Do not grant Tiger Lily the audience with King Trident."

Nefaria raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "You've clearly learned your obnoxious, authoritative attitude from him, haven't you?"

Metanoia's nostrils flared. "I am doing this for your people's sake."

Nefaria opened her mouth to speak, but Metanoia hushed her by speaking again.

"What do you think will happen when Pan catches Tiger Lily conspiring with King Trident?" Metanoia's eyes flashed dangerously when she spotted Nefaria gulp worriedly. "Do you think he's going to have lovely, little chat with your king over a cup of tea?"

Metanoia's mind clocked back to many months ago, when Pan had spoken similar words to her when he'd once so rudely insulted her and then asked her if she'd have preferred to have had this conversation over a cup of tea. It truly frightened her how she's gradually developing into a mirror-image of who Peter Pan was.

"Even if what you say is true," Nefaria cleared her throat, snapping Metanoia out of her thoughts. "How do I guarantee Tiger Lily's absence from our division?"

Metanoia tipped her head towards her with a knowing smirk. "Convince your king that the new Indian Chief is simply not worth his time. After all, as I'm sure you've been notified with the news, what good will she bring you with her shamefully reduced number in soldiers after her treacherous abduction of myself and one of the finest Lost Boys?"

Nefaria's face fell instantly, and awkwardly glanced at the water beneath her. "Yes, we've all heard ..."

Metanoia stepped back, retreating to the forest. "If you're smart, you will heed my warning, and take my advice."

As Metanoia stepped further into the forest, she called out, "It was lovely meeting you, Nefaria!"

She wasn't doing this out of the goodness of her heart to save King Trident and his people. On the contrary, Metanoia's intentions were filthy and selfish. Metanoia wanted to reduce Tiger Lily to absolutely nothing, before she could sneak in for the final kill and take down what was left of the Indian division. An alliance with the mermaids would hinder her plan, not to mention making Pan's life harder, and therefore lash out on her along with all the other Lost Boys.

And of course, no one wanted that.

Metanoia was horrified by the pain she inflicted upon the Indian guard, and yet, as much as she hated to admit it, it brought her indescribable pleasure to inflict pain on those who have wronged her and Jeremy. She relished in being the one in control, and as soon as she tasted the sinful flavour of vengeance, Metanoia craved infinitely more of the dreadful poison that has entered her heart.

She knew what she needed to do.


~โ€ข~


Peter Pan was past being livid. This was an unfathomable level of fury, and it was constantly being unleashed on the Lost Boys everywhere he went, where one of the boys would be unfortunate enough to be within reach of him. The past few days have been nothing but a straining toll of stress upon everyone, as a result of their leader's bitterness. He dared not admit it, though he knew deep down that Metanoia's absence from his side was like a thorn to his side, constantly digging into his flesh with a nagging urgency.

Her dismissal of him along with his presence was driving him slowly mad, more than he had always been. He attempted to approach her more than once, but each time, Metanoia sprung to her feet and fled from his attention. He cursed himself for squandering the blossoming form of trust between each other, but he was growing impatient with her. She was far too slow to stick to his agenda of his transformation of her character, and he wanted to quicken the pace.

Not only was this the only matter driving him to the depths of derision, but there was also the matter of Tiger Lily planning a retaliation against Pan by organising an alliance with the merfolk. How could she possess the nerve to try and weasel her way through his destruction? Peter scoffed scornfully at the thought. He cannot be destroyed, at least not by them.

It slightly worried him however, that the brown-haired demigod with the annoyingly piercing blue eyes and a killer smile, had the potential power to truly bring him to ashes if she could. Perhaps training her to unlock the powers lain dormant within her core turned out to be not that good of an idea after all.

Pan wanted nothing more than to have Metanoia by his side, fighting with him, and not against him. But he'd ruined the chances of this, for Metanoia herself admitted to her intentions of destroying him. He could not allow the progression of her powers any more than they already have. He would not risk his destruction for the slight chance of having her as a loyal soldier to him. He clenched his fists angrily, and finally set his mind and made a decision.

He knew what he needed to do.



~โ€ข~


Metanoia watched from a distance as Peter yelled a string of profanity at Gabriel, Timothy and Micah, who were bustling around trying to prepare dinner for everyone, all while having to endure Pan's scolding. She could tell that the three of them were so close to bursting to tears at his insults and demeaning glare, but they miraculously kept it together.

Pan slapped the heavy pot off Micah's hands angrily, and everyone watched it topple to the ground with a loud clang, spilling the rich chicken broth with the chicken in it, followed by Micah biting his lower lip to avoid sobbing when Pan got all up in his face and yelled agitatedly, "You don't leave the fucking chicken to get all miserably dry and then it feels like we're eating fucking rubber, you stupid, rubber-brained idiot!"

Metanoia heard David snort beside her, causing the girl to instinctively elbow him in the ribs to shut up, and he grunted in slight pain.

"I'm not going to fucking eat rubbery, dry as fuck chicken again!" He continued yelling.

Metanoia sighed, and turned back around to face David. "Is he ever going to stop whining about chicken, of all things?"

David shrugged. "You should ask yourself why he's been in such a sour mood lately, Noia."

Metanoia's brows twitched. "Me? Why should I ask myself of this?"

David offered her a knowing smile. "We all know he's been in this state since you both basically put a whole ocean between you to separate yourselves."

Metanoia rolled her eyes. "For good reasons."

The Lost Boy shifted awkwardly in his seat in front of her, before he daringly clutched her hand in his. Metanoia was caught by surprise by his actions, and glanced down at their hands briefly, before staring back at his face with an unreadable expression resting on her face.

"Could this perhaps have to do with the torturing of the Indian guard?" David asked very quietly, that Metanoia had to strain her ears to hear him.

She clicked her tongue irritably, but made no move to respond, and looked back at Pan, only to see him already glowering at the two of them accusingly.

"I'm only asking because you weren't with us when we ..." He gulped, and Metanoia blinked away from Pan to gaze back at David. "When we heard his screams."

Metanoia squirmed in her seat uncomfortably, before she whispered hesitantly. "I might've been there with him, yes."

She was desperate to conceal the truth from the Lost Boys, that the screams they heard shattering through their hearts were inflicted by her, and not by Pan as they had believed. She couldn't bring herself to let any of them know the truth. Granted, she was being controlled by Pan and manipulated to do his dirty work, but she couldn't deny the sweet infiltration of revenge pumping through her veins, and how she secretly enjoyed avenging Jeremy. And that was only just the beginning.

David observed her with concern brimming his eyes, and squeezed her hand comfortingly. "That must have been truly horrifying ... to be forced to watch Pan inflict his torture methods on someone."

Metanoia gulped harshly, feeling very lightheaded all of a sudden, and she nodded weakly. David's own eyes flickered back and forth all over her face quizzically, before gently asking, "Are you alright, Noia?"

Metanoia shakily parted her lips to respond, but before she could, a hostile voice behind her quipped, "She would be if you shoved your face away from hers to allow her to breath, you moron."

David jolted, retracting immediately and away from Metanoia to glance up at Pan with his face drained of any colour as the demon scowled down at him. Metanoia briefly shut her eyes, breathing deeply, before spinning around to look up at him.

"I was in the middle of a conversation." She stated irritably, and Pan smiled mockingly at her.

"And you really seemed to be enjoying it." He shot sarcastically, though Metanoia could sense a hint of jealousy, causing her to smirk.

"Is there something you'd like to tell me, Pan?" She asked, feigning innocence, and batting her eyelashes at him provokingly.

Pan clenched his jaw to refrain from groaning, before he stated through clenched teeth, "Plenty."

Metanoia slowly stood up, not breaking eye contact with him, and said, "Let's go somewhere and talk, then."


~โ€ข~

"You really need to work on your anger issues." She observed, her tone quite calm as Pan took her to his Thinking Tree, and he glared at her in pure annoyance.

"Me?" He asked incredulously. "You're the one who took down a massive chunk of Mount Olympus because of your anger issues."

Metanoia rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. "Seems like we have a lot more in common than we care to believe."

Peter entirely ignored the way his stomach slightly churned excitingly at her choice of words, before he bitterly

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