DISCLAIMER: With the exception of my own plots/OC's, etc.; Rick Riordan owns the rest (quotes, characters, etc.).

A/N: The beginning sentences are by Christmascookie26; however, I delved from there and made another path. The idea is also by Christmascookie26, but it'll take some time before Percy can become Tartarus' champion. Thank you to ThatSpecialWriter and AngelOfTheGhosts, who allowed me to add my own ideas to this main idea. Hopefully I do this story justice! As some of you may know, "Tartarus Champion" was originally by Christmascookie26, but then AngelOfTheGhosts' friend adopted it, and now I adopted it.

CHAPTER 1: It Started With a Dream

It has been around six months since the Giant War. The horrible memories of Tartarus still burned in my memories whenever I closed my eyes. Annabeth seemed to be recovering, but I knew she was trying to forget it ever happened.

You couldn't erase it all, though. The smell of the smoke, the fire burning across your skin—the way you felt like death was slowly enveloping you, tearing away any hope and strength you had. I never wanted to experience Hell again, for obvious reasons. It was the first time I realised that I could lose everyone. If Annabeth ever died, I swear I would run away from this life. Being a half-blood is dangerous. It's scary. There are many near-death experiences, and when you get older, you risk even more.

I didn't talk to Annabeth that much, anymore. We allowed silence to grow between us, and when she left to visit her cousin in Boston, I realised that I didn't know much about her, at all. It wasn't the simple facts, like favourite colour or family, but what she was thinking. She kept things to herself mostly. I know Tartarus changed something, but I didn't understand what. If I tried to speak to her, even Iris-message; she'll say at the most five-word sentences followed by a blunt 'goodbye'.

I wasn't blind to know when I was being ignored. It hurt, a lot. I love Annabeth—I always will, but it seemed that sooner or later we will break up. Logically, I kept this inside my head. If I ever brought it up, Annabeth would probably look calmly at me, and speak like a shrink. Do you want to break up? Is something wrong between us? She always seemed to figure me out, even though I didn't. Her reasoning will probably be I'm just going through a phase. Truth was there was no spark igniting. I felt like an overprotective brother rather than boyfriend. Gods, we didn't even get past third base. Not that making love matters most in relationships, but you can be bored with just hand-holding and kissing.

I haven't heard from Leo, either—the rest of the Seven and I assumed he was still alive, but just gone. Sometimes I wish I could be like him—escape, even just for a while.

One thought that made me angry at my short, miserable life was that I never chose this. I was practically forced to be in battle, hunted down by monsters if I ever left Camp Half-Blood. I envy you if your only worries are what phone you should buy, or when school is finally over - because I don't get a choice anymore. My fate is in someone else's hands.

I was in my cabin, that night, and as usual the nightmares wouldn't leave me alone.

My view changed to a much darker and eerie place—screams of torture could be heard over the contrasting sound of the river flowing.

There came a putrid, yet familiar smell that burned my nostrils. Sweat poured down my body, and it felt like someone turned on the place like an oven for 450 degrees. I immediately recognised my surroundings—the place that became my worst nightmare. Tartarus looked the same as I had last been in.

The hairs on my arms rose as I heard whispers; different voices talking at the same time that made my head pound. It came incessant and as I covered my ears, desperate to stop the ringing, the voices spoke in unison.

Perseus Jackson! We've waited for you to return. This is where you belong.

I rubbed my brow, and brandished Riptide from my pocket, ready to fight. This was only a dream, but I wasn't taking any chances.

Yes, Anaklumos. Good. It goes against its counterpart, ελαφριά κλίση.

My brain registered the word, and it spelled it out clearly in my head: 'light bent'.

We will unite you to who you truly belong with. Now hurry! You haven't much time.

"Wait! What the—I'm done with prophecies! No more." I could feel the ghosts surround, closing in on me. I felt trapped, and air was sucking away from me, my lungs burning without oxygen. "S-Stop."

This isn't a prophecy, Perseus Jackson. No, the Fates have nothing to do with the new uprising of Olympus. Soon there will be a new era, where we will rebuild the world.

I began to slash through invisible forces, but Riptide made no contact. A hallow laugh entered my ears, and I felt a chill sweep through me. Choking, I collapsed to the floor, staring up at the endless pit. Please, please. Dread filled inside of me. I was dying in my own dream.

Before I could fully fathom this, my windpipe opened and I snapped my eyes open, looking at my cabin white ceiling.