Summary: "Unfortunately, a bodiless suit of armor wasn't even in my "Top Ten Weirdest Things I've Seen In My Life" list." It's hard pretending to have amnesia and being forced to accompany an alchemist who thinks you're a spy from a country you've never heard of before. ::In which our unlucky protagonist winds up in the FMA universe and proceeds to mess everything up, as usual.:: a rewrite of Anomaly from my past account.

Set in the timeline before the events of FMA:B and after the Blood of Olympus.

Warning(s): Use of crude language at some parts.

Notes: See end of the chapter.

Prologue

.

.

.

(well, we can't start a proper story without it, right?)

.

.

.

I should've known things would go downhill the moment I woke up. After all, isn't my life crazy enough?

Of course not.

It would get even crazier.

After six years of dealing with angry, ravaging monsters who would either want to tear me to pieces slowly or quickly rip my throat out with one strike (take your pick, it doesn't really matter), mysterious prophecies that more often than not don't make any sense, countless life-or-death situations, vengeful gods who may or may not want to kill me every minute or two, raging Titans, monstrous giants (and not to mention the ever-benevolent and kind *cough* not *cough* Mother Earth herself), and not just one (oh no, as if one war wasn't enough) but two wars to top it all off, you'd think that a guy would get his well-deserved peace.

But…this? Getting dumped into another world thanks to a certain sadistic supernatural being (as usual), trying not to appear too suspicious while travelling in this new world and being forced to lie (and Hades knows I can't lie to save my life) about myself in order to avoid being shipped to the nearest mental hospital, arguing with a palm tree (you'll know soon enough), and participating in another war that's not even my own-it makes me wonder if the Fates aren't playing a game entitled "the-one-who-makes-Percy-Jackson's-life-the-most-miserable-wins".

What are the chances that my luck would be so bad, I'd get transported into another world? Pretty low, huh?

But it's not so bad here. I mean, I've met some new friends and awesome allies. Still, I want to go back. To my family. To Camp Half-Blood. To Annabeth. As much as I like the people here, there's no way I can stay. I can never betray my friends and family back home like that. No way in-freaking-Hades.

But until I find a way to return back to my world, I have no choice but to survive here in this foreign land.

I don't even know why I'm writing this. Maybe I just need to jot down my thoughts, try to tell myself that I'm not going crazy or any of that stuff. Maybe I'm just writing to relieve stress, which is kind of crazy in its own since I dislike writing due to my dyslexia. But since I had arrived in this world, writing has sort-of become my hobby. Hey, there's not so much I can do in the time period of this world. They don't even have television here! (Although, if someone had told me that I considered writing as my hobby and took it up as pastime, I probably would've laughed right at his face.)

If somehow, by any chance, you're a normal kid from my world who stumbled onto my journal and started reading this out of curiosity or boredom; and if you think it's the ramblings of a madman, then good. Keep reading. At least I've kept you interested enough to read about my crappy life.

But if you feel like there's a stirring inside your gut, a calling, anything-then stop. Stop reading immediately. Forget anything that I've said about interdimensional worlds and monsters. Forget everything that I've talked about. After all, it's just nonsense uttered from the lips of a madman, right?

Though, if you really do feel anything, then pray they won't find you. Once you know that you're one of us, it's only a matter-of-time until they find you.

Good luck. You'll need it.

.

.

.

"Peter. Peter! Oi, what're you doing?"

Startled, I almost dropped my pen. I already knew who it was without turning around, and sure enough, Edward Elric was looking at me with an annoyed expression on his face, 100% pissed.

I gave him my best "oh-I'm-sorry-I-didn't-know-you-were-there-what's-up?" grin. "Just writing something on my journal."

"I was calling your name for five minutes. What are you, deaf?"

I shrugged, trying to look sheepish. "Sorry, I didn't hear you." Sorry, I didn't answer you back because my true name's Percy, not Peter. Peter Johnsons's just a stupid name that my jerk of a Camp Director (aka Mr. D, God of Wine and Being a Massive Ass) made just for the special purpose of annoying me. I just used that name because I didn't want anyone to find out my true identity, which is stupid because it's not like anyone knows me here in this strange alternate world.

Edward rolled his eyes. "Dinner's ready. We don't have any time to spare, so you should eat already instead of holing yourself in and…wait, you have a journal?"

Crap. "Yeah, it's sort of my diary. You know, a guy's gotta collect his thoughts somehow."

Golden eyes narrowed at me. "But you told me you have dyslexia. And that you hate writing."

I forgot this kid was onto me.

The way he was staring at me right now…it reminded me of times when my girlfriend's mom would size me up, when she looked like she wanted to burn me alive (which she almost did one time). Or how Zeus (I half-expected the sound of thunder in the sky) would look at me with disdain, like he wanted to kill me with his death glare.

I huffed, actually irked by his accusing tone. "What, is it illegal to write if I want to?"

"No, but you might be writing to your spy friends from Drachma."

This crap again, I swear to gods-

"Ed." I stood up from my seat and crossed my arms, directly facing him. His frown grew. "How many times do I have to tell you that I'm not part of any "foreign espionage" or whatever you think I am. I saved your butt once, remember? Cut me some slack."

"That was only one time!" Edward protested. And then he fixed me with a glare. "You can't blame me for being suspicious. With all the shit that's been happening, you could be one of them, for all I know."

I didn't want to admit it, but he was right. With all that had happened this week alone, I couldn't exactly blame him for being paranoid.

But still. Now I was offended. Was he seriously saying I was a homunculi? "Oh, right, because it's all part of my grand plan to gain your trust and then stab you in the back afterwards. Please. If I wanted to kill you I would have done it ages ago."

He scoffed. "As if you could."

"Try me, then."

He took a step forward, like he was going to take me up on that offer, but then paused. He sighed. "This is stupid."

"You're right. It's stupid to accuse me of something I'd never do."

"Prove it."

"Prove what?"

"Show me your journal."

Oh hell no.

I stared at him with the most deadpan look I could give. "That's an invasion of privacy. You of all people should know that."

Edward stamped his foot impatiently. "I told you the story of how I got this" –he gestured to his automail arm- "and why Al's the way he is. In return, let me read your journal entries. Equivalent exchange."

What a stupid concept. But I didn't say that out loud.

"No."

Over my dead body, Hades be damned.

Risk appearing to be suspicious or risk being thought of as crazy? (As if they didn't think I was already bonkers in the head.) Other than the impossible truth of coming from another world, either way, I didn't want anyone to read my private thoughts. My journal was my one personal possession; the only thing I had left that helped me convince myself that I wasn't in a dream and that I could keep moving forward.

"Why not?" His hands were tightly clenched. "The way you're acting makes me think you really are a spy of sorts."

"Dude, give me a break. Okay, I admit, it's not a journal entry. It's actually a draft for the love letter I'll give to the girl I've had a crush on for years."

Edward stared at me the same way he did when I told him I had amnesia and he said I was pulling absolute shit out of my ass. "You're lying."

Yes, I was, but he didn't need to know that.

"Of course. Amnesia, remember? I can't remember anyone from my past life."

"Your amnesia story is full of crap. It's bullshit. Tell me the truth: who are you, really?"

I shouldn't have let him make me blurt out my secret, but I was so tired of pretending to be Peter Johnson. I was sick of being afraid to be seen as a total nutjob.

So I did. I told him the truth.

"I'm someone who came from another world where alchemy doesn't exist and it's already the 21st century. Oh, and I'm actually half-god. I can talk to fishes and horses, and sometimes my dad can make tsunamis when he's having a really bad day." There.

Ed's quiet for a few seconds, golden eyes meeting mine, eyes like the sun, eyes which made me think of angry wheat gods and Hazel and time-manipulating Titans who wanted to rule the world.

He snorted.

"You're a shit liar, Johnson."

I almost laughed. "So you don't believe me?"

"Whatever. I'm going to eat. The food's already cold by now."

"Yeah, I heard you the first time."

"Y'know, Ling says your aura is odd. Unusual. He said that I was right to be suspicious of you."

Great, even in another world I still had the wonderful talent of making enemies.

He turned away, but then he glanced at me, as if he wanted to say something. I raised an eyebrow.

His intense yellow irises burned into mine. "But for the record, I do trust you."

I gaped at him, and he turned his head to the side, almost as if he was embarrassed. I just stood there, frozen. A few beats passed, and then he trudged out of the room, the heavy thump of footsteps echoing on the wooden floor.

You should try to befriend him. Fullmetal's never really had any friends his age, except for his personal mechanic, the Colonel had told me.

Maybe he already considers you his friend. You have a strange charm, kid. He trusts you. Don't break that trust.

Maybe I already had.

I sighed under my breath.

This was Nico di Angelo all over again.

Dealing with trigger-happy gods was almost easier in comparison to this, I thought as I descended down the stairs.

.

.

.

Not even ten minutes later, there's already a commotion outside, and I spot one of the abominations making their way towards me.

This was seriously getting old.

…

Let's go back to the very beginning.

When I woke up on top of a hand-drawn circle filled with strange symbols (a transmutation circle, I soon found out), when I was sure I had just been in Central Park.

.

.

.

Next chapter: I Wake Up In The Middle of Nowhere

…

A/N: I know.

I really should be working on my BNHA crossovers but I revisited my FMA obsession and got to reread my PJO/FMA crossover entitled "Anomaly" from my past account MincedMinx (which I left hanging and didn't get to continue past the first chapter because I was in a bit of a stump at that time and I couldn't set some of my priorities straight) and I was left beating myself for the lost potential. I had so many plans and scenarios in my head (if a snarky Percy meeting an equally snarky Edward Elric isn't an entertaining scenario, I don't know what is) which I didn't get to write. So this revised story is my compensation.

To those who've already read the first version of this story, don't worry, I'll try my best to update this story this time around.

This story will be mostly narrated by Percy (so I'll try my best to adopt his voice). I won't reveal yet how Percy got transported, or what kind of abilities he currently has. It'll be a surprise.

Last but not the least, please review!