Hey guys, welcome to the first (rebooted) chapter of Was it a Mistake? If you're a new reader, welcome onboard! This story begins near the end of The Last Olympian, but I'll deviate from it slightly; Percy is now the only one in the throne room, and he'll have much different thoughts about leaving Annabeth to be a god. After I finish editing the chapters I had up previously, I'm planning to rewrite the entire Heroes of Olympus arc with god!Percy's adventures. And if you're an old reader, welcome back! Hope you guys like this chapter, and look out for the second one coming soon :)

The throne room was so silent that I could almost hear my heart beating. Twelve Olympians sat in their solemn thrones before me, which didn't do much alleviate to my anxiety, but my thoughts were racing so quickly that I almost forgot to care. Would they really do it? Would they really let me become—

My shock must have shown on my face, because Zeus nodded. "Yes, Perseus Jackson. You have done us, and the world, a great service, so we would be willing to bestow upon you the gift of godhood."

"I…" For a moment I considered the possibilities. If I were a god, I would be immortal, which would seriously rock. I'd have powers beyond anything I could have even imagined as a puny demigod, and I wouldn't have to worry about monsters or saving the world anymore. What did I have to lose?

That was a good question. Two hours ago, the thought of Annabeth would have stopped me, but the memory of the fight we'd had earlier still stung when I thought about it. She'd yelled at me for throwing myself into battle, and though I knew she only did it because she cared, it sure hadn't sounded like it at the time. She hadn't even asked me how I was. Or, you know, thanked me for saving the world again. The gods were the ones thanking me this time, and the gift they were promising seemed better and better the more I thought about it.

I'd lose my mortality. I might lose everything, and everyone, that I thought I knew. But without Annabeth to reign me in, I was feeling a little reckless; maybe that was why I lifted my head and said, "I'll do it."

Ares smirked, and I gulped, but none of the other gods were looking at me strangely. In fact, they looked a little impressed. "Percy," my father said, leaning toward me from his throne. "Are you sure? This gift is not one that can be taken back when it is given, and greater minds than yours have been driven mad from its effects. Think carefully on your decision."

Honestly, when I heard that, my first instinct was to say no. Really, I did. Had I ever signed up to be a demigod? No. I'd been used by all kinds of mythical beings for their own ends, and I'd been thrown headfirst into a strange and dangerous world without signing any fancy waiver. All I really wanted was to keep the people I loved safe.

But if you turn into a god, said a tiny voice inside me, you'll be able to protect them even better.

That made up my mind, in the end. Mom and Camp Half-Blood, maybe even Paul: those were the people I loved, and when the next threat came for them, they'd have to go through me first. "I'm sure, Dad," I said aloud, finally certain of my decision.

"Then we warn you," Zeus said, "and we welcome you."

"Would you prefer to be a minor or a major god, Perseus?" To my surprise, it was Athena who had spoken.

"Um…." Yeah, I know, I'm so eloquent, but you tell me you'd do any better with twelve superpowered deities staring at you.

"If you will not choose," said my father, "then we will. Let us vote. Who would have Percy become a minor god?"

The only ones who didn't raise their hands were Poseidon, Athena, and Ares. I could understand Ares, and maybe Athena, but my own father?

"I wanted you to become an Olympian," Poseidon said softly.

"I don't think I'm, uh, godly enough for that," I couldn't resist replying, but the fact that he believed in me made me grin back at him anyway.

Zeus frowned, effectively ending our conversation. Then again, maybe it shouldn't have. I was pretty sure that was his default expression. "Perseus, the council has ruled that you become a minor god. Now the only issue left is what you will be the god of."

I scratched the back of my neck. "Umm…Is there a god of, I don't know, loyalty?"

Athena laughed—a sweet, gentle sound. It sounded so much like Annabeth that I almost flinched. "He would be the god of his fatal flaw!"

Zeus gave his daughter a look. "Now, my daughter, it is a wise choice." Wise? I didn't know about wise, but at least only one god was laughing at me for it. "Perseus, because of your power and fighting prowess, I will also grant you the domain of battles, as well as loyalty."

"Lord Zeus," I said at that, unable to keep my mouth shut, "isn't that too much like Lord Ares' domain?"

Ares spoke up. "Punk, you gotta learn the difference. I'm the god of wars. Huge, bloody, wars. Lord Zeus is letting you be the god of battles. Those are smaller, and make up wars. Like a book, and wars are the series'. You get it?"

That was actually a pretty smart metaphor. I hadn't thought Ares capable of that kind of brainpower, but all I said to his face was, "Yeah. Thanks, Lord Ares." I watched as the god in question settled back into his throne, mumbling about incompetent fighters with a few words thrown in that didn't sound very polite.

"Well." Zeus spread his hands. "Now there is nothing left but to make you a god. Poseidon?"

The look in my father's eyes was nothing short of proud as he said, "Perseus Jackson, the Council of the Olympians has decreed you worthy of godhood. Do you swear to use your powers well?"

"I swear."

"Then kneel, and receive your blessing."

I knelt in the center of the throne room, wishing that the marble wasn't quite so cold, as Poseidon actually got up off his throne to stand before me. Then he touched each of my shoulders with his luminescent trident, just at the point where the hilt met the prongs. "I, Poseidon, Earthshaker and Stormbringer, god of the seas, do bestow on Perseus Jackson the gift of his godhood."

"Let it be so," said Zeus.

"Let it be so," the other ten Olympians echoed.

"Good luck, son," my father whispered above me, and I had only time to think that those words probably weren't part of the official ceremony before a searing bolt of energy crashed through me. I couldn't breathe, couldn't move, couldn't think from the sheer strength of it, and the surge of power overcame me as everything went black.