Disclaimer: I do not own PJO.
He was sick.
Not physically, but emotionally. Percy felt like someone had drained him of his personality and sarcasm. Nothing was there, just a hollow shell of the 'man' they called Percy.
He wanted to leave the cursed camp. He wasn't accepted there anymore. People only knew him as the former Hero of Olympus, a son of Poseidon.
Even his father had forgotten about him.
He used to be his father's favorite. Now, Poseidon barely acknowledged his existence, the existence of his most powerful son.
He just saw his cute little ten-year-old twin sisters.
Percy couldn't really stay mad at his sisters, but he was angry with his dad. He finally understood what Luke felt for so long: bitterness.
Percy was hanging on by a fraying rope, holding him ever so carefully over the edge. Each minute, however, the rope's smaller strands were snapping apart, pulling the knot looser and looser until...
He snapped.
Quentin was an idiot, by all means. He was considered the next hero, even if he couldn't heal. Even if he couldn't handle a sword correctly. Even if he couldn't run. Even if he wasn't even smart.
Percy snapped when Quentin came out of the Poseidon cabin, smiling smugly. Percy scowled at the boy in front of him and pointed to his cabin, not even bothering to talk.
Quentin smirked. "Just a little fun for later. Are your sisters out, Perce?" he replied.
Percy growled. "Don't call me Perce, Quenthin," he replied snarkily, using the nickname, albeit bad one, he had developed for the stick-thin boy in front of him.
To answer Percy, Quentin pressed a blue button.
Percy's cabin exploded, magical items and wood flying in the air and across camp.
Percy blinked. Once, twice, three times, before hurling himself at Quentin.
"You piece of shit," he yelled, throwing punches at his face until Quentin was bleeding from multiple wounds across his face.
Clarisse, who had ignored him since Annabeth had disappeared, pulled him off. He stared at her before wiggling out of her grasp and kicking Quentin in the crown jewels. Hard.
Quentin grunted loudly and rolled over, holding his hands over his (probably bleeding) crotch. People went to help him as they threw dirty looks at Percy, not even seeing that Percy's cabin was completely gone.
"Be careful, punk. Don't do anything rash," Clarisse whispered in Percy's ear. Percy scowled again and pushed himself away from everyone. He stood up on a block of wood in the middle of camp. He raised his voice over the murmurs about his fight (more like a beating) of 'camp hero' Quentin.
"Demigods, hear me. The Hero of Olympus is gone, assholes. He's not on your side anymore. So when this place and Olympus falls apart, don't come crying to me with your bullshit stories on how you were wrong. "
His voice carried across the camp, and a hush fell upon the onlookers. He smiled smugly and carefully set Annabeth's Yankees cap on his head before disappearing from sight.
Water sloshed in the canoe lake before coming over the side and meeting the fire lighting the blue cabin. Extra water exploded out of the lake and onto the Hermes and Apollo cabins.
The son of Poseidon, Hero of Olympus, left everyone dumbfounded, knowing they had just made a huge mistake by unleashing a powerful force against the gods.
They just made the biggest mistakes of their lives.