Author's Note:

First of all, Happy New Year! Think of this as a special holiday update. ;)

Hey guys! Thanks so much for all the support I've gotten for the Prologue! I've added quite a bit to it (unfortunately I forgot to save the chapter so it cut off abruptly, I know, stupid me...you guys probably want to look at the end of the chapter to catch up). It's decently important and will be touched upon later on in the story. If you're too lazy to read, a basic summary is this. Annabeth explains exactly what happened in New York and the scene shifts to Percy, who wakes up in an unknown room surrounded by machines. In confusion, he flees and is chased by several doctors and nurses. An unknown woman corners him on the rooftop and is about to finish him off when she appears to get orders to spare him. She leaves with a threat. Percy exits the building and after questioning a jogger, finds that it is the year 2087.

So (if you don't mind listening to me rant, if you do, just skip this), this will be the average length of each of my actual chapters (the prologue was a bit shorter since I could fit everything I wanted in about 3000 words). I'm hoping to update at least once a week on Saturdays or Sundays depending (and the occasional extra holiday update). My goal is that by Christmas next year, this story will be complete. At the same time, I also really want to get back to working on all of my other Percy Jackson stories, so it's going to be a challenge to keep up with everything and I'd ask for your patience with updates. I have enough time, the question is whether or not I have enough discipline to finish. I haven't finished a single story yet (even those I painstakingly spent hours planning), so this would be a great accomplishment for me.

Without further ado, here is the first real chapter!

It took him a while, but he finally found out where he was. The little town of Angelica, New Jersey was rather friendly and Percy had found a beaten up and abandoned map in a trash can. He figured it would take him maybe two hours to walk to Manhattan.

A lump formed in his throat. Percy still didn't think he could cope with...with everything. 75 years. He'd been...who knows where for the past 75 years. He felt an urge to cry. This must've been what Bianca felt like when she'd realized she'd been stuck in the Lotus Casino for so many decades...

Still, his demigod instincts kicked in, refusing to let him sit around. How Percy had managed to not be murdered by monsters in a mortal facility over 75 years, he had no idea and he wasn't going to question it. Annabeth might, but...

Annabeth! Percy paled. It had been 75 years. What if...

His pace quickened. He had to get to Manhattan. He just had to.

Two and a half long hours later, Percy slumped against a park bench in Manhattan. He was tired, so tired, and thirsty. And hungry.

"Burgers, burgers!" a street vendor yelled. Thank the gods that they still had those. Percy stumbled over. He must've looked like a mental patient with his hospital clothes all torn up. He'd have to get something decent to wear as soon as possible.

"How much?" he asked as he approached the stand. The man's hands were beefy and thick and he looked at Percy with disapproval as if wondering where the mental patient popped out of.

"It'll be fifteen dollars for a regular," the vendor said. "Cheapest burgers you'll find around here."

Percy didn't even have a single dollar on him. "Never mind then," he said, turning and beginning to walk away.

"No, no! I'll make you a wonderful burger, m'boy." A large hand clamped onto his shoulder. "A wonderful burger indeed."

Something about the man's voice sent a shiver up Percy's back. He whipped around, instincts kicking back in to face the monster in front of him.

The monster was made of pure metal. His entire body was silver and his hands clutched a meat cleaver. Two beady black eyes peered out like they'd been stuck on. He roared in delight as he slammed his weapon into the pavement, right where Percy had been a second ago.

"I have waited a long time for you to exit your safe haven, son of Poseidon," the monster growled. "Customers who do not pay will be dealt with appropriately."

Percy raised his sword as the meat cleaver crashed down again. The force sent him tumbling back, wincing. He hadn't fought in so long and his body groaned in pain.

"Are you a creation of Hephaestus?" Percy murmured. He hoped that he still had the blessing (or curse) of Achilles. Did it come with a 75-year warranty?

"Hephaestus? Bah, that ancient inventor wouldn't know how to put me together, even if I came with a manual!" the monster scoffed. "No, I created myself! I fed on what mankind left behind for progress and I built myself! I am Synthos, a monster of the new age!"

Percy grimaced. He wondered exactly what Synthos meant by what mankind had left behind but he had a feeling that this wasn't the best time to ask. Instead, he charged.

Instincts kicked in during the battle. Percy slashed at the Synthos, but his blade skittered off of the monster, sparks flying into the monster's eyes. Synthos didn't seemed to be bothered. "You have skin of iron, Perseus Jackson, but I am made of steel. I cannot be destroyed!" He swung the meat cleaver Percy's way and it hit against his elbow. To Percy's immense relief, the blade didn't cut and instead bounced off.

Percy was feeling desperate. He was out of practice and unlike him, this monster didn't seem to have an Achilles' heel. If Annabeth was here she'd surely be able to find one, but Percy...

There had to be a chink in his armor. There just had to.

Riptide couldn't slice through steel. But the monster claimed to have made itself. Think, Percy thought to himself. What would Annabeth do?

"You're absolutely nothing!" Percy yelled. "You're just a suit of armor, a scrapbook of metal! You're not a real monster, no matter how much you'd like to be!"

Synthos' black eyes glittered with hate. "I created myself out of the remainders of a scrapyard! I am more monstrous than anything you have witnessed, Jackson, for I have the power of life in my hand. I have no Achilles' heel. You will not be able to take me down...but I will destroy you."

With blinding speed, Synthos hit Percy in the chest with his arm. His skin, sharp as a blade, cut a hole in Percy's shirt though it didn't penetrate his skin. Percy was sent somersaulting back, his blade clattering out of his hand.

Synthos advanced with ease. "I will be the monster to defeat Perseus Jackson, Hero of Olympus," he said with a satisfied smile. "Say your prayers for they will be your last!"

He struck down at Percy. At the last possible second, the demigod rolled out of the way grabbing onto Synthos' meat cleaver. The monster, stunned, brought the cleaver up and tried to swat at him with his hand, but Percy was ready.

With one swift motion, he stabbed down at the monster's eyes. Synthos' look of triumph was replaced by confusion and then fear. Then, he crumbled.

However, there was no dust in Percy's face to wipe off. All there were were useless scraps of metal. Percy picked up a piece to find a very fine, barely visible powder, unlike that he'd ever seen before.

The powder seemed to whisper as he held it up to inspect.

Soon, Percy Jackson, a voice came in his head. This is the New Age and you do not belong. Soon, you will see why.

Then the powder vanished.

"Thanks for nothing," Percy said to the air. "Except for maybe the burgers."

After eating his fill of the burgers (they were rather good, though Percy steered clear of the box marked Monster patties...he wasn't sure if that meant large or made of monster meat...speaking of monster meat, could you make Monster patties? Or did monsters just disintegrate...), Percy felt full but tired. The only thing that kept him moving was the determination to find out, though at the same time he was filled with apprehension.

When he reached the apartment, Percy held his breath. Through the years he'd been gone, it had grayed and dulled. Bricks were chipped and compared to the tall, luxurious buildings around it, the building looked rather awkward. Percy was surprised that it was still standing. The glass doors to the lobby were broken and as Percy passed his fingers over the brick walls, he couldn't help but notice a broken weatherbeaten sign. The words For Sale had been crossed out and in faded permanent marker, replaced with the words To be Demolished. Percy picked it up. It had to have been there for quite a while...why they hadn't gotten around to destroying the building, he had no idea.

Cautiously, he stepped around the broken glass. The formerly clean cut and welcoming lobby was completely devoid of life. Most of the furniture had been hauled out, leaving only a stool with a broken leg. Percy couldn't help like feeling he was stepping into a haunted place. It was different though, from all the places he'd been with and had seen ghosts in. No, this place...the only thing it was haunted by was the ghosts of his memory.

The elevators had long been disabled so Percy had to suffer through seven flights of stairs. By the time he got to the top, he was wincing in pain and panting heavily. Finally, he pushed the heavy door open and walked along the corridor to a place he used to call home.

The door to his living room had been torn down and Percy carefully stepped around it as he entered the room. It had been deserted a long time ago and the previous tenant had taken most of what Percy remembered away. He fingered the dust on the mantelpiece of the fake fireplace, remembering.

"Mom, what's Santa Claus gonna do for Christmas?" A seven year old Percy tugged at his mother's shirt.

"What do you mean, honey?" Even then, Sally's eyes were tired and haggard. She was cooking up something that smelled wonderful and she looked distracted.

"Well," Percy's voice was hesitant, uncertain. "Um..." his green eyes shifted back and forth. "We don't have a chimney."

Sally laughed as she paused in her cooking to ruffle her son's hair. "Don't worry, Percy," her warm voice washed over him like the tide at sunset. "Santa always finds a way."

Percy shook his head as he left the living room to his mom's room. Even though everything had been moved out, Percy still felt he could see her sitting at her desk, typing furiously. Had Paul stayed with her? Had she been happy? A lump formed in Percy's throat that he pushed down.

He circled the room before exiting quickly, not wanting to spend too much time there. Finally, at the end of the hallway, he entered his room.

There was a loose board right where the door used to open and Percy tripped over it, catching himself just in time. He stared at the board for a moment. He'd always done the same when he'd lived there. The board had loosened when he'd driven Riptide into the floor in an attempt to find the green trident bead from his Camp Half-Blood necklace. It had rolled underneath the floorboards and Percy had had to loosen the board up to find it.

Percy stared at his room as if seeing it for the first time. He breathed in unsteadily, feeling mixed emotions sweep up on him. This had been the room he'd always lived in and now...the walls were peeling from old paint and what remained of his life was gone.

He felt sick. This had to be a joke. A sick joke.

Percy turned to leave when he spotted something odd about the floorboard. There was something blue underneath it. Percy kneeled down on the dusty floor and pried the board off with his hands. A blue box sat there, taking up all of the space underneath. As Percy's hand made contact with it, all the dust flew off and a name appeared on it as if written by an invisible hand.

Percy Jackson.

Trembling, Percy fumbled with the box's latch. There was no password but it must've been magical to have been concealed for so long without someone opening it. Finally, the latch opened. The box was beautiful on the inside, the velvet lining shimmering between blues and greens. A familiar salty smell filled Percy in a way that was both comforting and saddening. The box was crammed with tokens and mementos, along with a stack of letters, the top one marked with the number 1.

The first item Percy recognized was his Camp Half-Blood necklace. There were the original four beads he had earned from his four summers on a piece of string. Next to it was a cork bottle with a letter, like the type you heard about in stories. A message bottle. A dozen golden drachma were stacked together, their golden surfaces gleaming like they'd just been made the day before. There was something off about the dimensions of the box, like there were more things in it than such a small box should be able to hold. Percy shook the thought off.

At the bottom of the box were numerous photographs: him, Thalia, and Nico in front of the Hades cabin; his mother and him in Montauk near the sea. Each photo made Percy's heart feel heavier. Images of his past...a past he could never return to.

There were many more items in the box but Percy didn't want to look at them. It was too painful...and looking at them would only reinforce the reality of his situation. Percy didn't want to remember and he could only hold out for the hope that this was somehow, somehow all a dream.

He exited the apartment with the box under his arm and stared at the street. He did his best cabbie whistle and gazed desperately at the skies.

A minute passed by and Percy didn't see the black winged pegasus that had always greeted him when in need. His heart sank. He made his way to the main road slowly as the small, foreign cars zoomed by him. Did they still have taxis? No, he couldn't take a taxi, he didn't have any money on him...

At least not mortal money.

Percy was reluctant to use the drachma from the blue box, but he figured this was his only chance to get to Camp, to sort things out.

It had been so many years since he remembered Annabeth uttering those words, and for a moment, Percy feared he'd forgotten them. But the Greek spilled out of his mouth as if it had been waiting for this moment.

"Stêthi," Percy whispered, "ô hárma diabolês." He threw the coin into the pavement.

A smoky gray car erupted from the street, which had briefly turned blood red. The car was different than Percy remembered, compact and lightweight like all of the other cars. Even this had changed.

"Passage? Passage?" The words, same as the ones that had been uttered an entire lifetime earlier, made Percy feel like sinking into the ground.

"Camp Half-Blood," he muttered as he opened the back door.

"Boy, you need to shout louder!" One of the Sisters, Wasp probably, cried as the taxi zoomed off. "Tempest, give me the eye!" she shouted. "I need to see!"

Tempest scowled as she dropped the green eye in her sister's lap. Wasp pushed it into her eyelid and did a sharp turn that made Percy almost slam into the other side of the car. To Percy's dismay, they hadn't gotten any better at driving through the years.

"You look familiar!" Wasp screeched.

A chill ran up Percy's back. "No I don't."

"Yes you do!" Wasp exclaimed as she swerved wildly around traffic. "Anger, don't you think he looks familiar?"

"Well I could tell you if you gave me the eye!" Anger wailed. "Tempest, where's the boy's coin?"

"Not with you!" Tempest shouted. Anger made a desperate grab at her sister's mouth but Tempest lunged out of reach...or as much out of reach that was possible when crowded in the same seat.

"We told you the location!" Wasp's green eye widened. "Boy, you shouldn't be alive!"

"Well, lucky me then," Percy mumbled. His hands clutched the blue box like his life depended on it.

The Gray Sisters didn't seem to notice. "Give it back!" Tempest yelled as Anger triumphantly raised the tooth over her head. Wasp pressed the accelerator and the blue box flew out of Percy's hands, smashing into the seat in front of him.

Percy scrambled for the box as Wasp slammed on the brakes. Percy's head slammed into the front seat and his invincibility didn't stop him from yelling.

"OW!"

The car spun around, giving Percy nausea until it screeched to a stop. Squabbling and fighting broke out in the front seat and Percy picked up the blue box with caution. There wasn't a single scratch on it, thank goodness.

He decided not to wait around, exiting the taxi in a hurry. It zoomed off almost immediately, leaving Percy to stare at the strawberry field surrounding Camp.

They still looked exactly the same, which Percy could hardly believe. Thalia's pine tree still stood tall and proud, the Golden Fleece on its branches, Peleus curled around the tree contentedly. The golden dragon had grown at least five times in length and it was hard to believe that the dog-sized lizard had grown to such enormous length.

Percy made his way towards the hill numbly, as if moving in a dream. The climb passed in a blur until Percy stood at the top of Half-Blood hill, looking down on the camp he used to call home.

It still looked the same, which pained Percy more than he cared to admit. Then again, if it looked too different, he might've stormed to the Big House, gotten a sword, and stabbed himself. Or maybe that wouldn't work. Sort of hard to stab his back by himself...

The only major changes were the enormous amount of cabins (at least forty, with evidence of a couple more being built) and the fact that Percy recognized no one.

A satyr clopped up to him. From the looks of him, he was fairly young, about the age that Grover had been when he'd found Percy. The thought stung.

"My gods, how did you make it here by yourself?" the satyr exclaimed. He poked his nose, as if something was wrong with it. "That's odd, you smell..." he wavered. "I don't know. You smell strong. And you're a bit old for a recruit." He sniffed again, then shook his head in a blur. "And..." he frowned. "Something..."

Percy didn't particularly want to be examined by the young satyr and began to move away. "Uh..."

"Oh, right!" The satyr brightened, as if a thought had just occurred to him. "I'm supposed to take you to Chiron! All new arrivals are supposed to!"

"I'm not exactly new..." Percy's voice faltered. How exactly was he supposed to explain?

"Oh?" The satyr seemed troubled. "But I haven't seen you before..." He frowned. "Never mind! Chiron will sort things out!"

The satyr began to go off when he noticed Percy wasn't following. "Well, come on then! Oh, I forgot to tell you my name, didn't I? It's Mahogany. Mahogany Underwood. Everyone calls me Maho."

Percy froze. Underwood?

"My dad says it's a pity that Mom insisted on naming me after a tree," the satyr chatted. "Mahogany sounds so serious and he says that's nothing like me. I don't mind, though it's sort of girly which is typical of Mom, she wanted a girl, and I insisted everyone call me Maho from the time I could talk. But," Maho looked ashamed of himself. "You don't want to hear about that. Come on!"

Percy let himself be dragged away, staring at Maho like he'd never seen a satyr before. Maho seemed to be used to it, though Percy was sure that was under different circumstances and for different reasons.

A few campers stared at him, then turned away. Probably thought he was just another new camper. One kid in particular though fixed his gaze on him. Was that recognition? Shock? Percy couldn't tell and before he was able to ask, Maho had steered him into the Big House.

"Chiron!" he yelled. "I brought back a camper!"

The sound of clopping hooves filled Percy's ears. "Maho," a familiar voice sighed, "I've already told you, you're too young to go off wandering to find campers without my permi-"

The voice stopped as the centaur entered the room. Percy swallowed.

Chiron stared steadily at Percy. Instead of the warmth Percy normally saw, he saw doubt and fear flickering in Chiron's eyes. The look made Percy feel uneasy, though it vanished in the next second.

"Perseus." Chiron's voice was hollow as if he couldn't believe it.

"Perseus?" Maho blinked, looking from Chiron to Percy. "Who...but...no." Maho gaped. "I've seen you before!"

Chiron blinked, only just remembering the satyr was here. "Maho..." he said gently, "How about you go check on the harpies? Dinner will be starting soon."

"But..."

A steely look quieted the satyr and sent him clopping out the door.

A moment of silence passed between Chiron and Percy. Finally, Chiron sighed.

"We better go to my office. We seem to have a lot to talk about."

Chiron listened to Percy's story without interrupting, his steady gaze completely devoid of emotions. When Percy finished his story, the centaur walked around the room until he picked up an old, half-destroyed book from the bookshelf. Percy found himself staring at the pictures on the wall, especially the one of him and Annabeth. His heart throbbed. He wanted to ask Chiron what had happened but he was afraid of the answer.

"Percy?" Chiron's voice broke through Percy's thoughts and the son of Poseidon shook his head in surprise.

"Sorry Chiron," Percy mumbled, not looking at the centaur.

Chiron seemed to understand, though he didn't say anything. "Take a look at this," he said instead. He placed the book reverently in front of Percy.

The cover was made of leather, cracked from the years and a rip ran down the back of the book. Percy picked it up, looking at it.

"Why would I need a book?" he asked. What he really wanted to say was this. Why would I need a book when it feels like my life's about to end?

"This is the diary of a man named Latimer Brown," Chiron began to explain. "He was a minor demigod, son of Hecate. His mother was a daughter of Hermes though, which is why this story was never given its full credit. The son of magic and deception...no one would believe his tale."

"...So?"

"Latimer was just a boy when he ventured into the Underworld. Using his magic, he found his way to the Styx." Percy shivered. The river appeared in his memory, swirling away with mementos people had tossed into it as they journeyed to the Underworld. This time though, he saw his own mementos, lost in the waters.

"With his mother's blessing, the boy jumped into the river. He almost died but made it out alive. Filled with joy and excitement, he ran off, foolishly not looking behind. A hellhound pounced on him and knocked him out. The boy fell into a coma."

A coma. The story was beginning to piece together in Percy's mind

"Latimer woke up years later, the exact number of years is uncertain, to a whole new world. Yet he still looked and felt the same." Chiron seemed to hesitate as he took the book away from Percy's grasp.

"What happened to him?"

Chiron looked out the window and Percy knew for certain that it wasn't good.

"He committed suicide a week later. He couldn't handle it." Chiron turned away, not looking at Percy.

Percy swallowed. Was that what was in store for him? Anger burned in the pit of his stomach. He'd survived a war...only to fall into a coma and die anyways. What sort of life was that?

"So what do I do now? Go shoot myself?" Percy's voice was full of bitter hatred. He wished Chiron had never told him Latimer's story.

"You must go and decide for yourself if you still belong in this world." Chiron's words reminded Percy so eerily of the woman on the roof, who he'd forgotten about until now. "There are people you need to talk to, stories you need to hear. It is only after you have heard them that you can decide where to go and how to go."

For the first time, Chiron noticed the blue box. Percy hadn't bothered to mention it in his story, but somehow he got the feeling that Chiron knew what it was.

"Go now, Percy Jackson." Chiron's voice sounded heavy, older than Percy had ever heard it. "The future awaits."

He walked towards the forest, unsure of where to go. Campers glanced at him before pinning him as a new arrival. The boy who had been staring at him for a longer period of time earlier was currently talking to someone else about his age. Percy didn't bother to look more as he entered the forest.

Despite it having been three quarters of a century since Percy last walked through it, his feet seemed to remember where to go.

"That's good, Briar," a voice said. The hairs on the back of Percy's neck stood up. "Thank you for your report." The voice chuckled and Percy saw a pretty dryad making her way out of the clearing.

Percy stepped into the green light that still dotted the clearing, same as ever. It looked better than the last time Percy had seen it, more trees, more flowers. Birds sang cheerfully and butterflies floated from flower to flower. It was so...pleasant. Happy. So much that it felt wrong.

Three satyrs sat in topiary thrones. The one in the middle was a little older than the other two, but they all looked fairly young, at least compared to Silenus and Leneus. The satyr in the middle laughed as the other two cracked jokes. Then he noticed Percy.

"I'm sorry, the Council's meeting just ended..." his voice faltered, brown eyes meeting green.

"Hello Grover," Percy said, swallowing the pain and joy he felt. "How have the last 75 years been?"

Author's Note:

Okay, so I know that Mahogany is really more of a girl's name (sort of realized it after I wrote it down), but I got really into Maho's character and didn't feel like making any changes. Besides, Juniper named him. :x I hope Maho sounded okay. He's rather peppy and excited, being a young satyr and very eager to prove himself. I guess I would say he's overconfident and proud of his father, though at the same time, he doesn't like living in his father's shadow and is trying to differentiate himself.

Please please review!