Even collapsed on the floor of the throne room, close to finished, Kronos still had his wits about him. He would not be going down. Never. He was a titan. And this boy – this insufferable, half-god boy – had no right to be challenging a titan. He watched the boy, watched the girl, regaining his strength quickly. As his eyes passed over the blonde daughter of Athena, Kronos felt an uncomfortable twitch – Luke was trying to get out, as much as he'd deny it. Something about this girl pulled a response out of his host body.
A friend, perhaps. As the girl looked back at Kronos, gray on gold, there was definitely something there. Hurt, remorse maybe. But then her eyes turned steely, and she turned back to Perseus Jackson.
Kronos stood, his eyes still examining the pair. This was what he was up against. Certainly, Perseus was invulnerable. He could not have survived so long against a titan's wrath otherwise. But it was only a matter of time before Kronos found his weak spot.
The boy glanced at the daughter of Athena, as if drinking in the fact that she was still there. With one eye still on his adversary, Perseus Jackson looked over to the girl, to check her injured arm. They needed each other. That much was clear.
Kronos stumbled towards the boy, raising his scythe. The girl raised her knife too.
"Percy-" she managed, before dropping her raised arm and yelping in pain.
"Annabeth!" the insolent demigod looked back at the girl, taking a step away from Kronos and towards her. What was this? She was important to him, wasn't she?
Ah. Love. Kronos smiled, halting in his approach. He almost laughed, raised his scythe, and changed direction towards another target, another strategy.
Perseus Jackson may have dipped in the River Styx, may have been the most excellent sword-fighter Camp Half-Blood had seen in a long time, may have held his own against numerous titans, but he was far from invulnerable.