Phoenix J. Stark: Deus Ex Machina
Chapter 1: A Change of Fate
Full Summary: He existed, but they didn't know he did. At only ten years old, the only person who knew he even existed is dead. However by some work of fate, he is adopted by the richest man on Earth. Some time later, his new dad's antics get him roped into involvement with the Avengers Initiative. But even as each adventure and mission passes, he cannot forget about the people who forgot him.
Years later, he gets the opportunity to take vengeance on those who ignored and forgot him. With the full resources and capabilities of Stark Industries and the Avengers at his fingertips, nothing can – or will – stop him. And nothing does.
By the time he first encounters those who have forgotten him, he has produced his greatest creation – a mixture of magic and machine, immortal and mortal. A complex mix of machine and being that, when used correctly, brings fear to highest echelons of Olympus and S.H.I.E.L.D. A complex machine that not even his own father can replicate.
After years of being forgotten, he will give them a reason not to forget him. Ever.
All hail Phoenix J. Stark – heir to Stark Industries, member of the Avengers Initiative, inventor extraordinaire… and forgotten son of Greece.
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This timeline is rather grimdark considering the setting. Oh well.
In regards to timeline, I'm basing everything off the premise that:
1 - Percy is born in 2000.
2 - The MCU Canon timeline of every movie chronologically following Iron Man 1 and Iron Man 2 (they occur in the same year) is pushed back 2 years to allow for the events of the first PJO Series to take place. Thus, since Iron Man 1 and 2 take place in 2010, Avengers and the Battle of New York take place in 2014 instead of 2012.
3 - MCU Movies not explicitly mentioned or covered will occur regardless unless I say so otherwise.
I do not own anything except OCs.
Enjoy!
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Fate is an interesting thing. No matter what you do or how you do it, fate will always remain the same. Even knowingly defying your fate and doing the exact opposite of what the three sisters planned out for you will still lead you to your original fate.
There are, of course, exceptions to this. But really, why would you be surprised? There's an exception to everything; and as one anonymous person said, "There is no impossible, it just has to be done."
What – or should I say who – is the exception, you ask? It's quite obvious actually. There's no need to say it out loud – you already know the exception.
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Potsdam, Germany
May 1945
It was over. Finally over.
Six years of war that scorched the Earth with fire and death were finally over. The insufferable son of Pluto was dead by his own hand. The last demigod of the Shinto Pantheon had unconditionally surrendered. Guns were turning into plowshares, and the son of Zeus was revered around the world for leading the Allied Forces to victory.
Well, the other son of Zeus actually. Unfortunately for him, Franklin Delano Roosevelt died before ultimate victory was finally obtained. While a nation mourned, Olympus merely grimaced and appointed Zeus' second son to his position.
Thrust into his position without warning, President Harry S. Truman found himself sitting around a large round table with the tens of other country leaders discussing the defeat of Adolf Hitler, the son of Pluto.
Not that all of them knew he was a son of Pluto, obviously.
Truman still couldn't believe he was actually representing the United States as a whole at this conference. For most the war, he had merely been a senator from Missouri. No one had heard of his name until his half-brother appointed him as his Vice President. Then he died.
Now he was here, thousands of miles away from his home in Germany, discussing the aftermath for Germany at the Potsdam Conference. This wasn't some local town hall meeting in backwoods Missouri - no, this was honest-to-gods international politics and all the deceit and intrigue that came with it.
He wondered how his half-brother managed to deal with sort of thing for 12 years in conjunction with a divided Congress, a war-weary people, and polio. He himself had only been president for six months and he already wanted to quit. And as if the mortal politics weren't bad enough, there were the demigod and godly politcs too...
In an effort to conserve his energy and prevent his ADHD from acting up, Truman had taken to remaining silent during the conference, only speaking for important matters and greeting other people. Now, as he was sitting behind a large round table with nearly twenty other leaders, he tried to make it look as if he was paying attention. In reality, he was looking slightly to the left of the Canadian Prime Minister.
He had his reasons to avoid the gazes of the other leaders, however. Two other Big Three children were present at the Potsdam Conference, and they just happened to be the leaders of the two other powerhouses during the war.
Prime Minister Clement Attlee was the representative for the United Kingdom, and he was a son of Poseidon. Just like Truman, he was forced into his position after the other son of Poseidon, Winston Churchill, was ousted by the Labour Party by elections. Similarly to Truman, Attlee was just as nervous, but even more so – he had been elected in two days ago.
If there was one leader of the Big Three that was definitively feared throughout the world, it was Iosif Stalin, son of Hades. While his atrocities against the Germans and his own people were well-known, most ignored it and instead concentrated on the massive "sacrifice" of the Soviet people.
All 23 million of them.
Both Attlee and Truman were fearful of Stalin. By now, he was the only remaining original member of the mortal Big Three. The mere fact he was a child of Hades – and by default, Hitler's half-brother – made the two newcomers, at a minimum, suspicious of him. All throughout the Potsdam Conference, Stalin had glared at the American and Englishman with a dead serious look that could rival his own father's.
Attlee and Truman had remained somewhat grim as the Prime Minister of France proposed for a French occupation zone in Germany. Stalin continued glaring at them as the two nervous leaders continually shot glances at each other.
The French interim president had been talking for some fifteen minutes when Joseph Stalin stood up and barked incomprehensible Russian at the array of gathered leaders. Truman tried to ignore it while Attlee joined the many leaders looking at him in astonishment.
"General Secretary Stalin, would, uh, like if he could hold a quick conference with the, eh… British and American leaders about this issue. Alone," his translator said nervously. The assembled world leaders, looked back and forth between the American and Englishman and the native Georgian. Protests from many of those gathered immediately sprung, most notably from the French diplomat himself.
Truman motioned for calm, and as the voices died down replied, "Well, I don't see why not," in a strong voice, although he had a very bad feeling about what was to happen. "And I'm quite sure Mr. Attlee wouldn't mind either. Do you, Clement?"
"I, uh… no I would not, Harry, old chap. Whatever you say."
And as the world leaders quickly filed out of the conference room, three bright flashes appeared behind the children of the Big Three.
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"What do you mean, a pact, brothers?" Hades snarled.
"Our children have done too much damage to the mortal world, brother! We cannot let this go on!" Zeus replied in return. Despite his massive rivalry with and contempt for his brother, Poseidon grudgingly nodded in agreement.
"As much as I hate to say so, our brother is right Hades. We cannot sire any more children that will just impact the mortal world too much," Poseidon said.
Hades' eyes narrowed in anger. "No! This is just a ploy by our gracious and resolute leader to prevent any demigod that isn't his from gaining power and dominating both the mortal and demigod worlds! I know what you tried to do by killing Maria, Zeus!" Zeus clenched his jaw and to the god of death's shock, raised his Master Bolt.
"You cannot say anything yourself, brother," Zeus snarled out. "Your son Adolf alone was responsible for this damned world war! Fifteen hundred demigods alone have died, not to mention the countless mortal casualties!"
"And you think I benefited from that bastard's actions? The lines to the Underworld will be backed up for the next two centuries because of him!" shouted Hades. "And let's not forget that you supported my dear son Iosif over there even though I had already forsaken him and he had led 23 million of his own people to death!"
The sons of Zeus and Poseidon spared a quick glance at the mentioned son of Hades, who had an indignant look on his face.
Zeus began to turn red with fury. "I am the King of the Gods, and my word WILL be law! Accept our terms on the Styx, or else Poseidon will do something we will greatly regret!" Hades looked incredulously at Zeus, and then at Poseidon.
"You cannot seriously be supporting this madman, Poseidon!" The sea god looked conflicted and his eyes shot between the Kings of the Sky and Death. Finally, he sighed and raised his own Trident at Hades.
"I do not want to Hades, but unless you want World War Three to occur, accept the terms. My son Winston, being the warmongerer he is, already had contingencies in place to attack your son." Hades' jaw dropped in shock. The brother he tolerated the most, the brother whose flaw was extreme loyalty, was turning against him.
He shot glances at his own child, then at the children of his brothers, who were watching wide-eyed and in shock.
"…Fine then. As you wish brothers," Hades gritted out. "I swear on the Styx to abide by your terms and to never sire another demigod again."
Thunder boomed in the distance as the pact was sealed with the threat of unimaginable horrors.
Poseidon and Zeus lowered their weapons as Hades continued to glare at them. Then, they too swore on the Styx.
"Don't think you will get away with this unscathed, brothers," Hades spat. "I swear that –"
Hades' monologue was interrupted as the door to the conference room swung open with a large BANG! Much to shock of the Big Three and the Big Three, a young woman - presumably a secretary - walked into the room. As an indignant Attlee began to shout in protest, Stalin slapped his meaty hand over his mouth as everyone present began to realize who this "secretary" was. No, she wasn't even a secretary, but an Oracle.
Apollo's Oracle.
She stopped just inside the doorway as green smoke poured out of her mouth and her eyes glazed over. The Big Three and half-bloods looked at each other with worry in their eyes. Attlee and Truman, being new to the whole world of godly politics, shifted uncomfortably as if unused to this sort of thing, and for good reason too. The Oracle specifically appearing at this time of year, at this time of the day, in this part of the world, localized entirely within a dusty conference room in Potsdam, Germany, did not bear good omens for anyone.
Then she spoke.
A half-blood of the eldest gods
Forgotten but raised against all odds
Shall shackle Death, and place him in chains
The giant's destruction for his own gains
The hidden shield shall make half-bloods weep
And the hydra forces the city into near-eternal sleep
The son of iron shall make the ultimate choice
For Olympus will fall, or its inhabitants rejoice
And as the triple-echoed voice of the Oracle sounded out through the conference room in Potsdam, a group of people in an underground bunker hundreds of miles away in Great Britain wept. They wept for the loss of a great hero, one whose actions prevented a mortal World War Three.
Anthony Howard Stark (later Sr.) could only stare at his pocket watch as Agent Carter wept in the communications room.
No matter what happens, time will always continue on.
The death of Captain America had torn the heart of the wealthy industrialist in twain. Despite their ages, the young super-soldier was like a son to the tycoon mogul. Although Steve was his guinea pig at first, he had seen how the young man had grown. Being forced into brutal war to save the world did a number on the supersoldier, and Howard had been there to listen to the boy talk about the trauma.
And here, fate was changed. There was no otherworldly interference, no time travelling demagogue. Just a slight quirk of the body, a happenstance chemical alteration. Anthony Howard Stark clenched his pocket watch so hard it crumpled under the pressure into a hulk of gold and glass. It was better than to let the British soldiers present see him shed tears.
Resolve soon encased his heart. That day, Tony Stark vowed to love and care for any son that he had, whether through blood or through bonds.
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The Three Sisters of Fate felt a slight tug within them.
They ignored it, passing it off as an unusual immortal quirk, and continued winding fate.
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Poseidon, 54 Years Later…
December, 1999
It was a chance encounter, really. The sea god was supposed to pop in, drop off a package, and depart for the seas to be with his family. At least, that's what everyone else called it. Is it really a family if you don't care much for its members?
Really, it truly was supposed to be.
He had just flashed inside the mall where the minor god was waiting impatiently. The package? Simply a potion Hecate had concocted for the minor god. Said god's eyes brightened when he saw the package in his hands. What was his name again? Poseidon couldn't remember for the life of him. Then again, it was probably one of Zeus' immortalised sons. No one important, then.
The minor god quickly snatched up the package, tossed the sea god some drachmas for his troubles, and flashed away to the unknown. The sea god hmphed, clearly annoyed by the disrespect the minor god had shown him, an Olympian for Hades' sake! But he brushed it off as he himself prepared to flash away, his undersea home awaiting him.
But then the god saw her – a mortal that immediately melted the stoic heart of the serious god.
To most mortals, they would merely take one look, perhaps two, and just pass by. It wasn't that surprising to the god of the seas, however. She was dressed in a bright, colorful uniform of a mortal business; Sweets of America, it seemed to be called.
Despite how… tacky the uniform looked, he couldn't help but noticed how it accompanied her slight curves with absolute grace. Her movements were quick and swift, working vigorously to finish the job. Yet, an air of kindness followed each step.
But her features…
Oh, those irresistible blue eyes and her beaming smile. To the god, they simply screamed "Beautiful!" to him. And her flowing brown hair, by the gods! Not even Aphrodite could compare – at least, in the mind of the sea god that is.
The feelings this mortal brought out in the god of the seas were most certainly not ones of lust. No, the sea god felt as if he was at home just by looking at her. Oh, how his ancient heart yearned to just talk to her.
But his honor fought against yearning. His honor and unwavering loyalty to the rather… unusual agreement made by his brother all those years ago. No children, no war, no strife, were the words that had come out of his mouth.
His Flaw, perhaps the only good Fatal Flaw of all the Olympians, urged him to keep his word to his brothers. But his yearning countered, for if Zeus already had a daughter – maybe even more – it wouldn't hurt if he was just able to talk.
His heart and mind conflicted for what seemed like an eternity. Despite his intense yearning, his Fatal Flaw seemed to dominate over his heart. Loyalty to his brothers, and loyalty to his family must reign supreme. The sea god grimaced, and supposed he would never even get the chance to know her name.
For once, he regretted being a god.
Silently mentally beating himself up, his trident swung loosely at his side. The old sea god smiled disappointingly at what may have been the only mortal to have caught his eye and his heart in thousands of years.
And now, he would perhaps never see her again.
The god turned his back on her, before something snapped within the god.
Forget his yearn to talk. Forget her seemingly carefree and innocent attitude. Poseidon's primal instinct as a male took over.
He had to have her.
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Time Lapse, 9 Months Later
August, 2000
As the pain subsided, a white-clad woman handed a much younger woman, barely 25, a small bundle. The young woman's pain-ridden look changed to a smile so wide it stretched several of her facial muscles.
But she didn't care. As she held the bundle in her hands, she moved a flap of cloth to reveal her pride and joy.
A lightly tanned face with strikingly sea-green eyes and strands of black hair met her gaze. The baby gazed up at brown-haired, brown-eyed young woman staring down at him before he started giggling.
The woman smiled and lightly stroked her child's forehead, inciting more giggling from the baby.
"You are my pride and joy, my precious," the woman whispered. "And I will name you Perseus. Yes, Perseus Jackson. The fruit of the pain and struggle I suffered at the hands that monster."
The woman spat out the last word. So much venom was contained within it that her child stopped giggling and looked at her with confused eyes.
She wouldn't tell anyone, but she, a clear-sighted mortal named Sally Jackson, was taken advantage of and raped at the hands of the sea god.
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Time passes rather quickly for the Three Sisters of Fate. Fifty years is little more than a day for them.
That's why when they felt the tug in their guts again, they stopped. They glanced at each other in silence before their eyes widened in realization.
Fate was truly, and indeed, tampered with.
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