Livgon
"You tricked us."
Perseus Jackson was angry. I could see it in his eyes. Behind him, five others stood. Annabeth Chase, Thalia Grace, Nico DiAngelo, Grover Underwood and Rachel Elizabeth Dare. I had selected them with care. The Hero of Olympus, the Architect of Olympus, Leader of the Hunters, the Ghost King, a Lord of the Wild and the Oracle of Delphi.
Percy shifted his grip on a drawn Anaklusmos. Grover raised his bow menacingly, arrow notched and aimed straight at my head. Even Rachel was gripping a large spiked knuckleduster fashioned entirely out of a mix of Celestial Bronze and diamond. Apparently she had been taking self-defense lessons. Still, I wasn't too concerned. Despite my weakness, I could still take them all and win with all my limbs secured with Celestial Bronze chains.
"Who are you? Why have you brought us here?" Percy demanded.
"Where is here?" Nico added.
"Soft; no haste," I found myself replying. Damn. Stupid Merchant of Venice.
Unfortunately I wasn't the only one who caught the reference. Behind Percy, Rachel Dare rolled her eyes. "Nice to meet you too, Portia. Where's Bassanio?" she sarcastically commented.
Well this is going just fine. "I mean you no harm. I have a story to tell, and a proposal to make. I give you my word on the Styx."
The party's anger seemed to be tempered by my vow. Percy repeated his question. "Who are you?"
I puffed myself up grandly (as befitting my stature), and perhaps a little (just a little?) vainly. The action did not go unnoticed among my audience, and I heard snickers. I did not bother to trace their source. "I am Lord Livgon, quintessential Lord of the Universe."
There were a lot of possible responses they could have given, but all I got was a "Isn't that Chaos?" from Annabeth.
Why did humans find it so necessary to question every word of an all-powerful god? I threw my hands up in mock imitation of an appropriate modern linguistic-representative action of this age – faking surrender. Apparently I wasn't very convincing either – I saw the words "idiot" on the verge of Thalia's lips. I decided not to attempt to understand the monstrous creations of humanity called pop culture and modern life again.
"More technically," I continued in typical grandiose fashion, "I am half of Chaos. The half responsible for existence and creation. My other half, Lord Notox, is now somewhere on the edge of the Universe."
Ignoring their incredulous looks, I quickly launched into my story before they were afforded any more opportunities for interruption. "In human historical myth, which is what demigods take as history, Chaos created the universe and the original six Titans. Since then, human and godly societies have allegedly developed by themselves, with occasional interaction, particularly in the form of demigods, between two otherwise alienated societies. This myth is largely correct, insofar as it narrates events with a high degree of accuracy, but it fails to mention one thing – 'Chaos' as a complete entity has only ever existed in theories, hypotheses, myths, imaginings and this rather strange inversion of Greek Mythology that humans seem to have come up with, fanfiction."
Pausing only for breath (which I didn't really need, it was purely theatrical), I continued, "Chaos is two entities. The first of which is the magnificent specimen of godhood that now stands before you, and the second would be the twin of that aforementioned magnificent god that the god kicked to the far end of the Universe after a war that lasted uncountable years."
"When I finally began the creation of the Universe and the first living things to populate it, I inadvertently found a way to thwart my brother Notox. Due to the quantifiable nature of creative and destructive energies, the immense amount of self-sustaining creation power I generated in creating the universe was so great that it blasted him, the antithesis of such creation, beyond the universe. Because the journey was so long, it took him ten days, each of which he spent screaming in terror."
"Exhausted, I crept into a great slumber to replenish my powers, confident in the knowledge that Notox could not touch the universe I had created. Now that time had been created, I chose to sleep for five thousand years in this place, the Altar of Creation, where my powers waxed full, which I estimated would bring my powers back to peak condition. But something went wrong. It hasn't been five thousand years yet, but I awoke not two days ago with a horrible headache and a sinking feeling."
"I used my powers to review the events of the past that had taken place while I was sleeping."
"Wouldn't that have taken forever? Even for a god like you?" Annabeth hastily added when I glared at her.
"I am at present using sixteen hundred different consciousnesses, all functioning, to speed things up. If necessary, I can manage up to twenty-four hundred, each with an approximate IQ of 300." Did that sound – what is the humans call it? – braggy? Ah, no matter.
"I have awakened because my subconscious (of which I possess only one) has sensed the approaching danger for denizens of the universe. I was incredulous, amazed and utterly disappointed to find that my creations had been waging war almost continuously, over various unimportant matters and for the avarice of the human and godly psyches. The Titanomachy. World Wars One and Two. The various wars that have been fought in the later half of the 20th century. And, not a month ago, the second Titanomachy. As I have already explained, creation and destruction are quantifiable concepts. I'm afraid the balance of power within the Universe has been tipped."
I had planned on slightly more elaboration, but Annabeth, had already grasped the answer. "Notox is back."
They all paled at the announcement. Paled? What an underreaction. Is that even a word? If they understood the true nature of the threat, they would be calling for Mummy by now, which I think is the ultimate expression of fear for humans. I wouldn't know – I don't have a Mummy.
"Indeed. He has begun to stir."
Percy scoffed. "How do we know we can trust you? How do we know this is the truth?"
I was getting slightly irritated by the incessant questioning, although I supposed it was human nature. "I will show you. Witness now some of my battle with Notox, and its conclusion."
I recovered the appropriate scene from my memory and immersed them within it.
It was disconcerting to see Notox's power again. His form was invisible against the nothingness that served as our battlefield, but he created a form by warping some of the nonmatter and cutting out other portions of it. Just to annoy me, I suppose, with his horrible impurity. I was in the humanoid form I had created for myself. He was hurling bolts of power at me. I sidestepped them, then created a very large bolt of pure matter. I threw it at him. He laughed. My attack was met with an equal amount of power from him. The bolts collided in mid-nothingness before destroying each other.
It was then I had my idea. I watched as my younger self encased him/us/me in a sheen of energy. Suddenly, it exploded outwards.
"You are witnessing the creation of the Universe!" Young Livgon yelled at Notox. Of course we were yelling at each other in High Speech, which none of my audience members knew. I translated, but I think they were too fixated on the battle.
Notox never got a chance to respond. He was thrown backwards. Around me, the Universe began to expand at an incredible rate. I was pouring huge amounts of energy into it.
I ended the memory before the six observers got a chance to see the unflattering way I fell asleep. Still, crash landing into Earth did create the Moon, so…
For once, the six were stunned into silence. I should get an award for that.
"So, here's my offer. I really hope you're convinced of the truth of my words by now," I caustically commented, "Join me. I need allies to stop Notox."
All their mouths fell in tandem into perfect O shapes. Really, must humans be THIS confusing to understand? What does that even mean?
A/N: I'm sorry, but the Automatic AN Writing Machine has broken down and I am not racking my brain for another one.