When the Smoke Clears
Summary: Despite Annabeth's pleas, Percy didn't give Luke the cursed blade. Instead, he was plunged into battle with the Big Three's father, Kronos. Titan against demigod, it was the Titan of time that won.
Kronos destroyed each Olympian's throne and raised his own, where Zeus's once stood. Camp Half-Blood was burned to the ground, remaining demigods hunted off by Kronos's army. Then his final act of "justice:" throwing Perseus Jackson from Olympus into the rubble of Manhattan.
With the Olympians locked up in Tartarus and Kronos spreading havoc on the mortal world, things are looking bleak for nearly everyone... everyone except the faithful son of Poseidon- and that's only because he lost his memories during the fall from Olympus. He doesn't know who he is or what has happened until he meets a strange blonde-haired girl who claims to know him, and what his new purpose is.
Prologue
Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson, Rick Riordan does. Half of the prologue is excerpted from "The Last Olympian," pages 334-336. The rest is mine.
Kronos loomed over Annabeth, his sword raised.
Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth. She croaked, "Family, Luke. You promised."
I took a painful step forward. Grover was back on his feet, over by the throne of Hera, but he seemed to be struggling to move as well. Before either of us could get anywhere close to Annabeth, Kronos staggered.
He stared at the knife in Annabeth's hand, the blood on her face. "Promise."
Then he gasped like he couldn't get air. "Annabeth…" But it wasn't the Titan's voice. It was Luke's. He stumbled forward like he couldn't control his own body. "You're bleeding…"
"My knife." Annabeth tried to raise her dagger, but it clattered out of her hand. Her arm was bent at a funny angle. She looked at me, imploring, "Percy, please…"
I could move again.
I surged forward and scooped up her knife. I knocked Backbiter out of Luke's hand, and it spun into the hearth. Luke hardly paid me any attention. He stepped toward Annabeth, but I put myself between him and her.
"Don't touch her," I said.
Anger rippled across his face. Kronos's voice growled: "Jackson…" Was it my imagination, or was his whole body glowing, turning gold?
He gasped again. Luke's voice: "He's changing. Help. He's… he's almost ready. He won't need my body anymore. Please-"
"NO!" Kronos bellowed. He looked around for his sword, but it was in the hearth, glowing among the coals.
He stumbled toward it. I tried to stop him, but he pushed me out of the way with such force I landed next to Annabeth and cracked my head on the base of Athena's throne.
"The knife, Percy," Annabeth muttered. Her breath was shallow. "Hero… cursed blade…"
When my vision came back into focus, I saw Kronos grasping his sword. Then he bellowed in pain and dropped it. His hands were smoking and seared. The hearth fire had grown red-hot, like the scythe wasn't compatible with it. I saw an image of Hestia flickering in the ashes, frowning at Kronos with disapproval.
Luke turned and collapsed, clutching his ruined hands. "Percy, please…"
I struggled to my feet. I moved toward him with the knife. I should kill him. That was the plan.
Luke seemed to know what I was thinking. He moistened his lips. "You can't… can't do it yourself. He'll break my control. He'll defend himself. Only my hand. I know where. I can… can keep him controlled."
He was definitely glowing now, his skin starting to smoke.
I raised the knife to strike. Then I looked at Annabeth, at Grover cradling her in his arms, trying to shield her. And I finally understood what she'd been trying to tell me.
You are not the hero, Rachel had said. It will affect what you do.
"Please," Luke groaned. "No time."
If Kronos evolved into his true form, there would be no stopping him. He would make Typhon look like a playground bully.
The line from the great prophecy echoed in my head: A hero's soul, cursed blade shall reap. My whole world tipped upside down, but I didn't move. Somehow I didn't trust Luke.
"No," I said. I raised the knife again.
"Percy," I heard Annabeth mutter, "Percy. Please."
I brought the knife down with all my might, expecting it to run through Luke. I immediately knew it was bad news.
The knife bounced off the Titan like a ball against a wall, and Kronos's voice laughed. "Too late, demigod!" Then he scooped up Luke's sword from the hearth.
I had completely forgotten about my sword until I felt it return to my pocket. I uncapped the ballpoint pen in time to block Kronos's swing. Unfortunately that knocked me out of balance.
Kronos's body glowed brighter than gold and I shut my eyes. The air around me grew uncomfortably hot. It turned hard to breathe.
The light died down and I swung my sword at the Titan. He smirked as I felt myself slowing down again.
"Thank you, Perseus Jackson," he said, sidestepping my sluggish hit. "Perhaps the telkhines were wrong. Perhaps it takes more to burn the son of Poseidon?"
I understood all too well what Kronos was planning to do. I started to back away from him as he studied his flaming blade.
I could only manage two words. "Luke, stop." Then again, it was all I could say as I was running in slow motion.
"Luke Castellan is no more!" the Titan roared. He leapt at me, but I couldn't block. I was still moving at the speed of a glacier, like before. I could feel cuts and bruises opening up, and I was knocked off my feet into the hearth.
The pain was like two years ago, when I held up the Sky. All energy in my body evaporated. My body was limp as I laid in the fire, feeling the flames eat at me. My vision was tinged crimson and I was pretty sure Hestia stood beside me, shaking her head with silent regret.
For either a few moments or a few hours I was unconscious, the pain of the fire consuming my body and tearing my clothes to shreds. Ironic, I thought, a son of Poseidon dying in fire. It would be a first.
My weak body was lifted up and flung over something- a shoulder, maybe. I was being carried like a sack of flour.
"See you in Tartarus, demigod," I heard. Then I was weightless, flying through the air.
The air was whisked from my lungs as I collided with the ground. My only regret was not having a couple drachmas with me for payment of death.