Dust was falling upon the field as everyone and everything stopped moving. The fights ceased, and the rain began to pour heavily down the hill. The sunrays reflecting in the raindrops should've casted a somewhat beautiful glow to the area, but nothing of the sort happened. The air was thick, and people started to look at the scene unfolding in front of their eyes, too scared to say a word about it.
Nobody knew what to say, nobody knew what to think. People were crying, people were screaming, and demigods were fleeing. Fleeing the place they all dreaded to see from now on, the place where it all ended, where the end of an era tragically took place.
They were all happy until three hours ago. Three hours ago they were happily eating at the cafeteria, unaware of what was about to take place on their land, every one of them weaponless. Those precious weapons would've saved so many demigods, saved so many satyrs…
Guns laid here and there, long patterns were running deep through the grass, leading to some big machine gun whose shooter was hanging limply to the side of it, lifeless. The one thing they feared the most, the only real thing they were all afraid off, and it happened when they were at their lowest. It sure was a mortal thing to do. Going on and killing people off for no reason with the justification that they were not like any normal human being.
When the mortals attacked, all Hell broke loose. And now here they were, blood covering the grass, bodies pierced multiple times scattered every meter or so and then there was our almighty duo standing in the middle of it all.
Percy and Annabeth were the killing machines of this battle. They were moving way too fast for the campers and inhumanly managed to dodge almost every bullet that was shot at them. Back to back, shoulders to shoulders they fought.
The Son of Poseidon even used his power to take out some of the soldiers, and he came pretty close to wipe the field clean of any humans. But you know, nothing is going according to plans when it comes to demigods. Especially when it comes to demigods.
Every time something bad is happening to them, every time they engage in war against a deadly enemy, those people above who swore to protect them suddenly act like they know nothing. When their kids are in danger, it's like a very ancient force makes them stay where they are, not even moving a finger or batting an eye when the light fades from a camper's life.
But not today. At the end of the battle, two of them had had enough of this waiting game and were now on their way to the camp, hoping, praying, that their children were alright. Oh how they didn't know how foolish that thought was.
In the middle of the rain on top of the hill was the one who held everyone's hope since the beginning of this chaos, Percy Jackson. The boy for once was wet from head to toe and didn't even seem to care about what was happening around him anymore. He didn't care about the rain, the people watching him worriedly from afar, nor did he care for the horrible smell lingering in the air.
The boy was too far gone, in his own world. He held the love of his life in his hands, crying, and praying that the girl wakes up soon. He couldn't live without her, he couldn't breathe without her. Percy already felt the pain in his chest, the pain of losing someone you love. His soul was aching for its companion, reaching out and trying to find the spirit that it was so familiar with.
He was doing everything he could, blind-sided and seeing nothing but her blond hair and grey eyes that were looking straight at him. Those beautiful grey eyes he was so in love with. Those silver orbs always thirsty to learn new things, to build new things and to discover what was going on in the world.
His strong girlfriend was his whole life. He couldn't lose her. Percy couldn't lose the love of his life and his best friend at the same time. It wasn't possible. But alas the boy didn't know what else he could do. He tried to revive her by blowing air into her lungs, shaking her head afterwards but nothing seemed to work. It's like the universe was against him and his happy ending.
The son of Poseidon didn't react at all when a heartbreaking scream shot through the air, nor did he care that it came from the girl's mother. Nobody cared that the almighty goddess Athena was crying her heart out, and nobody even cringed when the boy's father was the one who picked the goddess up on the floor and held her body close. The moment was too grand to be disturbed.
His girlfriend's head in his lap, Percy started to rock back and forth, slowly loosing his sanity. He couldn't see, couldn't think straight. He was a failure, not even capable of saving the ones he loved the most. He felt it now, her soul slowly leaving her body and starting her long way down to Hell. Maybe he should follow in her steps? Maybe his uncle would grant them access to the Isles of the Blest, where Annabeth and he decided they would go to when they would die.
Someone was approaching, he could hear it this time. The rain was leaving deep puddles everywhere, and this person wasn't certainly trying to be subtle about its arrival. But he chose to ignore it, instead clinging to his girlfriend's head resting in his lap.
"Son, it's time to go. She's in a better place now Percy, let her go."
The demigod didn't even say a word to acknowledge his father, nor did he turn to look at him. Instead he started to rock back and forth again, continuing his own descent in Hell. His head was empty, void of all emotions and memories he had left of the world. The only thing he wanted was her, and he had it.
Poseidon walked away, back to his niece's side who was still crying on the floor, completely soaked from the rain. But she didn't care. All she had her eyes on was her daughter's body, lying five meters away from her boyfriend whose t-shirt was no longer bright orange.
The boy's top was red, soaked in blood, but not his own. As he now laid on the floor, curled up on himself and getting the thick red liquid smeared all over his face, he was having one final thought.
And so his soul left him, Poseidon looking down sorrowfully at his son exiting the world of the living, still cradling the girl's head in his arms.
At least he died with a piece of her.