Summary: Percy Jackson was prepared to sacrifice himself to save Olympus. Unfortunately for Percy, the universe has different plans for him.

So, my first non-Worm related fic.

Thanks to Commissar Carnifex and The Sleeping Knight for betaing.

Enjoy!

Prologue: Achilles

Percy stared down at Kro- no Luke, as he held Annabeth's knife in his hand weighing his options. The aura of death and danger had all but left Luke's form once he had managed to wrest control from Kronos, but Percy knew he was still dangerous. He had nearly killed them on multiple occasions before, and that was without the Curse of Achilles and Kronos to aid him.

"Give me the knife." Luke croaked out. "There's no time."

Percy would have been lying to himself if he wasn't the slightest bit tempted to try and use force, to find Luke's Achilles' Heel and make him and Kronos pay for all the suffering that they had caused, for all the friends that he had killed.

Beckendorf.

Selina.

Zoe.

Michael.

So many others.

But…he had never been one to enjoy another's suffering.

The line from the great prophecy echoed in his head, the piece of poetry that weighed down on his shoulders more than the sky had.

The Hero's soul, cursed blade shall reap.

Percy handed Luke the knife.

"Percy? Are you . . . um . . ." Grover started, looking more than a little nervous. Percy couldn't blame him. It was crazy to hand someone who had just been your enemy mere moments ago another weapon, but he had already made his choice, and there was no turning back now.

Percy kept his grip on Riptide as Luke gripped the knife's handle and unlatched a section of his armor covering his arm. He brought the tip of the blade up under his arm in a spot that would have been extremely difficult to hit in the middle of a fight.

Just as the blade was about to pierce his skin Luke's eyes flashed gold and everything went to hell.

"NO!" Kronos roared, howling with such force that if Percy hadn't managed to brace himself in time, he would have been sent flying back along with Annabeth and Grover. As it was he barely had time to bring Riptide up as Kronos swept out wildly with the knife, even as Backbiter flew back into his open hand.

Deflecting the first blow Percy swung up towards the weak point that Luke had revealed even as Kronos twisted his sickle around his back and drove it into his own Achilles Heel.

Percy gasped in pain as agony beyond anything that he had ever experienced before coursed through his veins. His skin felt as if he had been barbed with a thousand fishhooks, pulling him apart piece by piece. His blood felt like molten rock and his breath froze in his lungs. Everything around him seemed to spin as the dull roar of his heartbeat echoed through his ears like a death toll. He could feel his life slipping away as a faint trickle of blood ran down from his Achilles Heel.

But his pain was nothing compared to the anger he felt as Kronos' stolen mouth twisted into a sick grin, golden eyes glinting in delight at his suffering. Luke's face looked utterly inhuman, no warmth or compassion to be found, only a cold spite that drove every action. But the Titan's smug expression was cut short as Percy slammed his foot into the floor, shattering the ground beneath them. The Titan's eyes nearly bugged out of Luke's skull as Percy wrapped his hand around his wrist and pulled him down into the dark void alongside him.

Percy could barely keep track of what was happening as he was surrounded by an inky blackness so deep that it made Shadow Traveling seem like a well-lit path. All he knew he had to do was make sure that Kronos didn't make it out of this alive.

The Titan was howling cursed in ancient Greek that would have made Mr. D blush even as Percy fell upon him. There was no strategy or thought to his actions, only a mindless desperation. But despite that, Riptide hit its mark as it swung out towards the flailing Titan. It pierced the flesh of the Achille's Heel and Percy watched as Kronos' struggling redoubled even more.

"NO! YOU SHALL NOT DEFEAT ME HERE MORTAL! I AM KRONOS, I WILL DES—

"Shut up!" Percy snarled as he reached out and wrenched Annabeth's knife from the Titans hands and slammed it down into his throat. Without the curse protecting him the blade sliced through the skin, ending the madman's rant.

Not the best comeback, but he was well beyond caring at this point.

He could feel the pain that he had managed to push aside with his anger grow more and more to the point where it was all that he could feel. It was as if his body was tearing itself up and dissipating into the endless void. Beneath him, Kronos continued to struggle and howl even with his severed vocal cords. His fists felt like hot irons against his skin but compared to the pain that he was already experiencing they were little more than irritants.

As the pain started to grow to such heights that Percy could barely focus his vision, he locked eyes with Kronos one last time. Instead of the sadistic arrogance or rage that he was used to seeing all he found was one thing in those golden orbs.

Fear.

After everything that he had been through, after all the pain and suffering he and his friends had endured the Titan was finally feeling what they had been experiencing by his hand for years. But he held no joy towards Kronos' fear, only satisfaction that his friends would be safe from his wrath and world would become the Titan's plaything. And after all his battles, there were only two words that Percy could bring himself to say through the blinding pain.

"You lose."

She knew he was coming, there was no doubt about that.

The world was heaving with every breath as the darkness threatened to suffocate everything. Dark energy hung in the sky like a rolling thunderstorm, just waiting to break at a moment's notice. Her host's home might as well have been soaked in solid shadow for all the good it did. The innate defenses that were supposed to keep her tribe safe were holding it off, but only barely. It was groaning under the strain, and it could snap at a moment's notice.

Even in her weakened state, she could feel the lights of humanity being squeezed as the darkness coiled around them all. Hatred was clouding their thoughts, greed distracting them from what was important.

"It's a shame the Southerners have abandoned all connection to the spirits."

Raava might have appreciated Korra's uncle if he wasn't so steeped in darkness. His heart was a black pit that had long since given into Vaatu's honeyed words and whispered promises. What had once been a man was now nothing more than a tool to extend Vaatu's will. She tried to warn Korra, to alert her to the danger that the man represented, but every time that she pushed forwards the darkness lashed back, pushing her down and away from the Avatar's ear. The darkness slid over her with an inhuman malice, and Raava couldn't help but shiver. Despite having fought him for so long, she still found the Dark One's presence revolting.

But as much as she wanted to warn Korra against her uncle's words, the man had a point. This spiritual tradition of the Southern Water tribe had been developed for the purpose of pushing back Vaatu's power when he was at his most powerful. It was supposed to siphon off any energy that of his that slipped through the crack and cleanse the people of his corrupting influence. But instead, here they were, watching giving into to their desires to do what was fun instead of what was important.

And this would only be the beginning.

If things continued as they way they were, then the world would rip itself apart under Vaatu's influence. The world almost already had under the banner of Amon. Raava couldn't even begin to fathom the disaster that would have unfolded if that madman hadn't been stopped, if he had continued to block peoples bending, then there would have been nothing to hold back the dark spirits that would serve as Vaatu's vanguard.

His army would wash over the world like a tsunami, and he would snuff out every light in existence with his power. Spirits and humans alike would be united in eternal agony as he turned his wrath upon both worlds in revenge for then thousand years of imprisonment.

A thousand lifetimes of progress ready to be washed away because of her failure.

How could I have been so blind?

It had been her responsibility once to keep Vaatu in check, and it still was. Even bonding with Wan hadn't changed that, it had only changed how she accomplished it. Wan had been the one to support her in her goals to see Vaatu stopped in her darkest hour, and together they had.

They always had.

But ten thousand years was a long time, and knowledge was lost. The Avatar soon forgot what their true purpose was in keeping balance in the world. Not just to save lives, but to stave off Vaatu's corrupting influence, for even in his prison his power was vast and his reach seemingly inescapable. She should have taken notice when such knowledge had been lost from the cycle when Vaatu's name hadn't even been whispered in cold dread for a thousand years. When her own existence turned into nothing more than a myth for children and forgotten even then.

She could have done so much to prevent this, but she hadn't too self-assured in her victory over Vaatu that she had ignored the warning signs. She that his prison would have kept him in check, and even with his influence there had been little that he could do.

She had been so wrong.

It was only now when the darkness threatened to engulf the world that she could see what she had failed to notice before, and she couldn't even warn the Avatar of the impending doom. Growling in frustration, Raava slammed herself against the encircling darkness, pushing with everything that she had. She could feel it give way, bending under the power of her light, and there was almost a moment that she could feel it snapping…

…only to be pushed back down as another wave of power washed over Korra, stifling her ability to sense her urgency.

Raava, the great Spirit of Light, and she couldn't even talk to her own host.

At the height of her power within the Avatar, such a barrier wouldn't have even obstructed her, she would have torn it apart with nothing more than a thought.

But the last two centuries had not been kind to her, and Vaatu's influence was written all over it.

She had never been too concerned with Aang running from the Air Temple, the boy was only twelve after all, and he was far from the first Avatar that just wanted to escape their duties. After spending millennia inside their heads, she knew that not every human wanted to be the Avatar, but there was little that she could do to alleviate that burden. But allowing a child a chance to escape his fate for a few days at the most and allow himself some time to think, that was something that she could allow.

But then the storm struck…

Raava could feel Aang's fear as the sky screeched and thunder clapped. Lighting flashed across the sky while headwinds powerful enough to overwhelm even the strongest of airbenders buffeted his Bison's body. The child was afraid, fearful of what would happen if he continued on this path, but even more frightened of what would happen should he return to the temple.

Raava might have sent the boy some soothing thoughts if she wasn't afraid too.

She could feel the darkness of this storm the raging anger and active malice that permeated every drop of water. The lighting that flashed across the sky was too consistently close to striking Aang to be natural, the howling winds shifting with each adjustment that he made in order to keep him off balance. The sea churned with hatred, waves slipping up to grab the airbenders whole and bring him down into the murky depths. And behind it all, a cold burning malice to see the Avatar dead.

This was no ordinary storm.

Raava felt the boy's fear reach a pitch as he was finally swatted down in the freezing ocean, struggling with all he had but still not having enough to escape its icy grip. So Raava did the only thing she could do and let her power flow through the boy's veins.

But even as his eyes glowed white, Raava could hear Vaatu's laughter echo through the storm like thunder.

I win.

Raava could only remember snippets of what happened after that. Keeping the Avatar State wasn't tasking under ordinary circumstances, but holding it constantly for a full century? That had certainly taken a lot out of her.

When they had finally emerged from what iceberg she had barely been able to bridge the gap between them to maintain the Avatar State, much less communicate with him. And with each passing day, there was nothing more that she wanted. Aang had seen the war and the devastation that it had caused, but he had never seen what she had. The spiritual devastation that had been wrought by Vaatu's agents had been well beyond anything that she could have dreamed of.

The airbenders – dead.

Tui – dead.

Wan Shi Tong – gone.

Anyone of those losses would have been debilitating to her fight against Vaatu, but all three at once?

Without the airbenders, there was no way to perform the rituals that kept the skies cleansed of Vaatu's influence. And if Aang had not survived long enough to have and teach his air bending child, the art would have had to have been rediscovered again, and there would have been no way to prepare the Avatar in time to stand against Vaatu.

The loss of such knowledge might not have been as problematic if Wan Shi Tong hadn't decided to leave the human realm. Raava had known that the Spirit of Knowledge had never been as interested in humans as the rest of the spirits, but how convenient was it that the very man who had sealed his opinion on humans was the very same that had tried to rid the world of the moon?

Tui's death was easily one of the greatest victories of Vaatu. Had Yue not taken the moon spirit's place in an act of selfless courage, nothing would have been able to stop the chaos that would have befallen the world. But as brave as she was, Yue didn't have the eons of experience that Tui had possessed in wielding her power, and as such, she wouldn't be as nearly as useful against Vaatu's power.

The Spirit of Chaos had been setting up this board for a while, and now all the pieces were starting to come together.

"I'm surprised the Avatar doesn't know about that. Apparently, you haven't been given all the information you need. I would be my honor to instruct you in the spiritual ways of the water tribe."

Please, no, Raava begged, weakly straining against the darkness that cocooned her, hoping with everything that she had that Korra would hear her, that she wouldn't give into her uncle's promises. But her hopes were dashed with the next words to leave the girl's lips.

"I wouldn't mind about learning spirits. Air bending is getting pretty boring."

No, Raava said weakly as she slumped down, the realization that she had failed so much that the Avatar of all people could recognize the influence of a corrupting spirit, especially when that spirit was Vaatu. Her uncle should have been a blazing fire to her spiritual senses, but now she didn't even get an itch in the back of her skull warning her of how dangerous this man was.

I'm sorry Wan…I'm so sorry.

All that Raava could do now was pray that something would happen to turn the tide back in her favor.

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