He swung his sword and sliced the snout of the hellhound off, watching as it burst into bright golden dust. With a smooth roll to the side, he leapt and cleaved another straight in half.
The sun was pouring down, letting its rays of light burn against the skin of the citizens of the country. The man with the sword, you could tell, was very proficient in what he did. The way he gracefully darted around, how he cleanly killed his enemies and the speed of his thinking.
Although he wasn't dressed in anything fancy—opting for a casual wear—a bright green T-Shirt and vibrant blue jeans and a pair of black trainers. His bronze sword gleamed against the glaring light with only a few beads of sweat trickling down the man's face. His sculpted face was relaxed and calm, even a hint of a smile was on it while he mercilessly tore through the hellhounds in the forest. The muscular body behind his clothes was barely tired, himself breathing at normal pace and finally—his sea green eyes raced around the vicinity in exhilaration and wariness at the same time.
You could see how he had aged, the many hardships and paths he had faced taking its toll on him yet he still thrived in the world. His black hair still with the one grey streak, and his short stubble showing his manliness.
'Same old, same old, sending me on a job to clean up some roaming monsters,' he mused in his mind all the while sidestepping a charge and ripping through another hound horizontally. There were only a few more stray monsters left and he almost had them all cleared.
He rolled his eyes at the weak attack behind him which he spun away from. He wondered why these monsters even bothered with him? They knew of his name, his power and his destruction yet they still tried to tear him down for dinner. He shook his head and sighed.
'Monsters never change, just like immortals…' he bitterly thought, referring to the many broken promises of the gods over the years.
All of the pain and suffering had brought him what? The wars, the blood, the guilt, the deaths—everything, all it did was eat at his sanity daily and all he wanted to do was get his mind off of it. Funny, how now war was ingrained into his system that he doesn't even have to think to become the most ruthless demigod on the planet.
All he ever wanted was his friends, family and love of his life living somewhere safe. So they could survive and stay by his side until the day he dies. But obviously, Fate is a complete bitch and crushed his dreams by the day since he rose to the top after killing Gaea.
Now he went around, trying to do what he loved—adventure. He liked the thrill of finding new things, even if he was 29 years of age. He loved slaughtering new enemies and saving more lives, since it made him feel needed somewhere in the world. How his own lips turned into a smile when he saw the honest gratitude of fellow people, but also to get rid of the scum of the planet.
He exited his thoughts just in time to vapour travel out to the way of the leader of the pack snapping his jaws where he once was. With a quick flick, he pulled out a throwing knife and launched it into the creature's eyes as it howled in pain. The final three of his lackeys growled and stalked towards him but he sighed in boredom and with a flick of his wrist, sent icicles piercing through each of the monsters.
The leader had now recovered and before it could even register what happened, a thin blade of metal was lodged into its heart.
The perpetrator of the scene looked around to make sure no one saw him in action. The forest looked pretty desolate like always, not a mortal in sight. All there was was the beautiful scenery stretching across the lands, magnificent animals banding together and chirping while plants flourished around him. What did he expect?
With a grunt, he dropped and slid down the trunk of a tree. 'What did I expect? I've never let a mortal see me doing my godly stuff.' Call it arrogance, but the man (who was not a kid anymore since he was now 29), always did his job correctly. It's not like he listened to the gods all the time, but the only reason he did it was for the thrill and so he could forgot about everything.
No one understood how he was feeling or what had happened to him for the past decade. What he had to endure for years. How he coped or how he had even been. It's not like they could, no one had followed the path he went down and he knew from the moment he stepped foot on it—it was dangerous and stupid—but he hoped he would achieve peace after it was all done.
It was what his mom had said.
"Perseus was the only hero to ever receive a happy ending, and you, my baby boy, deserve that more than anyone else in this world," she had told him. Bitterness seeped into him slowly, and he spat onto the ground next to him.
He couldn't handle what had happened over the years so he left to have a break from all these gods, magic and other shit and just went about doing random things to satisfy his desire of adventure. But even then, he was slowly losing his will to live yet again and so he pathetically went to the gods to ask for any jobs.
And they first had wanted to know if he even was fit for the task; as he did disappear for years and they all knew what had happened to his close ones around him. They didn't exactly expect him to be sane.
'Maybe I'm not sane, and I'm just covering it up with sanity so my insanity just kills me on the inside and not the people around me…' he imagined. His selflessness still hadn't changed and his loyalty was stronger than even a bond with God. He smirked at that, happy he was still, deep down, the same sassy prick from when he was 12.
Continuing on from before, well, now—even the thrill of brutally killing monsters and cleaning places spotless of creatures was dying out. It was all so repetitive and he was slowly starting to hate it. He had done so many things in his lifetime and there was only so many things he could do with the people he had by his side.
Since the one person who did actually know what it felt like to be him was snatched from the world…
...just. Like. That.
A slip up and that was all the chimera needed before she lost an arm and inevitably bled out. His face became emotionless at the memory and he pushed it to the back of his mind.
Anyway, he had done so many things: learned so many fighting techniques, killed many people, played several sports, left school with a decent degree, honed his powers to be max and yet here he was, thinking over how his life had went.
He just wished he could be thrown off this planet and onto another, as selfish as it sounds. No one treats him as a friend anymore—it's either they revere him, pity him or don't know what to do. Everyone knows him and he didn't like this game, as he never was one for the spotlight. It's not like he could do it anyway, humanity could only visit Mars right now and he was already imagining planets? What would be the chances they even had life on them?
He let out a breath and leaned against the tree calmly.
With a quick clean of his items, he shut his eyes and let himself drift off, knowing his body would have alarms blaring if any danger was nearby. And with a silent breeze, he was whisked away into the land of dreams (and nightmares).
He was hovering in mid air, surrounding by everlasting darkness. It was so concentrated, and powerful, it was as if it was pulling on you from every direction.
Then like a flip switched on, a wall of air condensed to form a green in front of him and the man himself dropped to his knees. He attempted to squeeze his eyes shut but he couldn't, this was his daily dosage of terror. His face shifted into one of regret, sadness and guilt when the events started playing,
Hazel dodged and swiped on the battlefield, Gaea screaming in outrage at the futile attempts of each demigod there. With a swipe of her hand, a spike of dirt arose from the Earth which Hazel sensed, narrowly avoiding.
The hero on his knees only seemed to have his chest pound harder, the regret and guilt pushing harder within him by the second.
He could see himself, stock in light armour, dashing around the landscape; slaughtering monsters left and right and making his way to the Primordial. He craned his neck, watching Hazel dodge and see how she had improved so much since he had seen her in Centurion 5. He smiled to himself but it was too quick to think that.
She was in the midst of 3 monsters and ferociously fought with her weapon, her face determined. The teenager who looked like the leader felt the ground beneath the rubble and with wide eyes, he spun around and sprinted as fast as he could.
"Hazel!" he roared. He commentated on the water around him to push her out of the way but it was too late, another earthen spike ripper through the ground.
All you could see was Hazel's lifeless eyes, her body limp atop the point of the spike.
Tears sat at the edge of his vision, guilt tearing at him as he watched this replay. He was too slow. Too weak to even get the water. Too quiet for her to notice. It was all his fault.
And with an angry shout of rage, the teenager let loose all of his pent up emotions as he wrecked the landscape; the video deciding to cut off there.
All the aged demigod did was stare sadly, holding back tears because he would not cry. He never cries. It was a sign of weakness. Would it hurt to let out a scream of frustration and tears of regret?
'Yes, yes it would,' he thought.
And just like that, every event over his lifetime continued after Hazel's death—all it was was a ride of losses.
From Frank's suicide over Hazel's loss a year later, since he couldn't cope with her being gone. To Leo losing an eye from the explosion of Gaea, it being replaced by cybernetics. His brothers death a year ago, when he discovered he even had one. The loss of Annabeth, which shouldn't have happened; her death was so easy, yet she should have a survived. A simple slip up, and she was gone for good with a lost limb and being unable to fight back a stab to the heart.
These were all of his fault. Why was he so pathetic? So weak? He was known as the most powerful demigod of millennia yet he couldn't save a person's life. Every time, somehow he narrowly avoided death while each and every person was taken away from him.
And these nightmares—no one could understand. He couldn't tell anyone about them, or they would start worrying but it's not like they care in the first place. Most of the demigods were happily living now and he shouldn't be selfish, they deserved it and he should keep it to himself.
He just wanted to get away from this mess, this world and meet new people. This whole country held too many memories, even other countries, and they stung so much.
With heavy breathing, the man himself collapsed onto nothing. His body slowly falling into an even heartbeat.
The world quickly closed itself around him as he was cocooned in darkness and given some peaceful sleep.
Percy should have known the Fates weren't done with him just yet. They were still weaving his life string and were smiling about his future. He would eventually get what he deserved and what he also yearned for.
It was how his life worked.
[Linebreak]
Percy got up stiffly, since he slept upright. Oddly, no monster had engaged with his scent but maybe it was too powerful for any of them to even handle. He checked his surroundings and saw he was still in the same forest and only had had an hours nap. 'Great,' he thought.
He wanted to lay back today and relax from all this monster cleansing since they just kept on coming back, and knew one day wouldn't hurt. He ruled out Leo since he was touring the world with Calypso.
Jason and Piper weren't options either since they were now gods in their own respects, and he hoped they wouldn't become as stuck up as the rest but knew it would happen one day—it was inevitable. The chances were slim but he still hoped. Maybe they could turn out like Hestia or Poseidon.
His mother, stepfather and younger half sister were off on vacation, in England for a while since his mom had always wanted to go there. Something to do with her career and how some famous author lived there called JK Rowling.
'Mortals have such weird names sometimes…' he snorted.
His fellow demigod friends weren't even an option since they weren't that close like him and his father, or sister, or even Leo. It would be a useless chat with unnecessary talks and them pitying him.
He got up and sighed, willing some water to splash him in the face, rejuvenating his body instantly. Then just like that, he realised he had no one to talk to. Everyone was busy with their own lives and here he was, trying to make a life and failing.
'I love this happy ending,' he thought sarcastically. Even though it had 13 years since the battle of Gaea, he was still as sarcastic as ever. His façade was to cover up his true feelings and aging only made it easier. He was surprised no one had eaten him alive yet and he was still alive—it was a miracle. Yet here he was, putting himself to no good use; he hadn't found the right girl yet and tried so many dates but it never clicked like it did with Annabeth. The longest relationship he had since her had been for 4 months but even then, it never worked out.
Hades, he should've been married or even had a child by this age but I guess nothing works out how you want it to—his life was proof of that.
Percy wandered idly through the forest, just relishing the comforting silence of Nevada and hoping nothing interrupted it.
He made his way through the centre until the very Earth around him rumbled. He fell into a stance naturally and scanned his vicinity not detecting a living thing in sight.
His years and experience of battling started pumping blood rapidly in his body, and he quickly dashed to a nearby tree and hid behind it. Percy also pulled out his trusty, loyal sword—Riptide—in pen form, ready for it to spring out when needed. The idea was to maybe use it as a surprise attack because who expects a pen to be a sword?
He risks a glance around to where the source of the interference was from and his mind was blown with what he was seeing.
Just like that, something appears out of nothing, forming into existence, taller than the gods of Olympus. A round shape of brown, worn out rock went up and back down, creating a hole. It reminded him of a portal from those books he read several times—except this one didn't look safe at all.
The centre of it was a swirling mass of energy in the shape of a wall, and he was on guard, his mind linking the points together which pointed to Gaea. However, she was sleeping and they all made sure of that fact. It would be almost impossible for her to do this.
The portal looked magnificent, even if it was made of the soil he walked upon, the aura it emitted was strong but nothing he had never felt before.
Percy cautiously made his way out from the treeline and walked to the towering thing and sighed heavily.
"What is this shit?" He cursed. "Just a normal day when random crap like this happens for no reason," he mumbled.
He pushed a hand through his hair in annoyance but was also curious at what this was. If it was a portal, he was tempted to enter it but he couldn't since he didn't want to leave his family.
To test his theory, he picked up a nearby rock and threw it at the wall of of energy and it just disappeared from his very eyes. No flashes of light. No dramaticness.
Just. Disappeared.
'Yep, definetely a portal,' he concluded. He checked the other side too and the rock wasn't there so it was the best conclusion he could reach.
He raised an eyebrow at this, even gods couldn't do this and dare he say this—whatever it was—was stronger than them. They always had to revert to godly forms to move around.
It seemed as if no one noticed this tall thing but it was probably the Mist counting it as something supernatural, and technically a portal was.
He moved closer towards it—it would be so easy to just enter and see what it was. However, seeing how it just appeared, he realised it would as quickly just go away from sight. Percy reached out his hand and it almost touched but he shook his head and pulled it away.
He was about to turn around and leave the damn thing and let any helpless soul fall into it, until he was harshly pushed into it. With a swift turn, he tried to stop himself from entering the portal but already knew it was too late.
"Go on Perseus, have fun wherever you end up, and know, now that you are gone, we shall crush Olympus once and for all," Hyperion maniacally laughed. He couldn't see him but he could picture the devious smirk and rage burned in him.
Percy tried to latch onto the side of the portal and he could but it seemed to pull him in.
"Fuck you Hyperion, what the Hades is this thing?" He yelled at the Titan.
Said Titan went silent and made a response. "I don't know myself, this very portal is believed to be a myth of myths. No one has ever seen this in their lifetime, so you should be grateful Fate has blessed you with this sight!"
"That fucking helps doesn't it," Percy shouted with a roll of my eyes. If Hyperion didn't know what this thing was and it wasn't his doing, it really was dangerous.
He huffed in frustration. "I would skewer you but I do not want to join you in the portal—it is something called a vault—and that is all I know of it. If you come back, I will make sure everyone you care about dies,"
The forest around them was silent and the sun continued to shine down with a powerful energy. It seemed to want to burn him to a crisp.
Percy just grinned and cupped his mouth. "Hey you, you stupid asshole! Remember what happened last time? Oh yeah, we screwed you guys over and I know they will fight to their last breath and do it again if they have to."
Hyperion clenched his fist and took an intimidating step forward. "Goodbye Perseus," he snarled. "I hope you never come back and die, you insolent demigod!"
The Titan of Light conjured up a sphere of condensed light and grinned evilly, and launched it at the demigod who put up his arm in defence. It didn't do anything but leave a sizzling sensation on his arm with the bast knocking him off balance. His hand slipped off the grip and he grit his teeth, knowing his inevitable fate.
He would rather not die now and prayed to the gods of Olympus to live, and live for everyone who died to give him safety and all other demigods. The force pulled him in and the last sight he saw before eternal darkness was Hyperion's grinning face. He whizzed through the brown field of power and said one last thing.
"Fucking bastard," he muttered before he lost consciousness.
[End of the chapter]
A/N: Tales from the Borderlands was such a great game I had to try and create some fanfiction out of it and I thought, why not? I'll admit I don't have a clear direction of where this is going so ideas are appreciated. Other than that, this is just the start.
I have the next chapter half written up and that'll come out some time later, but that all depends on if anyone actually likes this. Review just this once, and favourite and follow to tell me if I should continue with this and if there's enough people, I shall; if not, I'll scrap the idea and leave it for another day.
Thanks for reading and review, favourite and follow the story. Tell me if it was good, if the cover is, if the summary is—basically everything if you can.
Peace out.