A/N:
Goodsir:
Mr.P3pp3r:
Gwen sighed, and almost brushed her hair back, but remembered that everyone essentially had short hair now. "We were sending our… fifth flare or so.
"So, what exactly happened?" i asked, looking blankly into the mountains.
Everyone was a bit anxious without you to oversee the entire thing, but we did it anyway. There weren't nearly enough people with special expertise; just lucky scavengers. We were hoping for hardened survivors who could add to our skillset."
I chuckled. "You mean those doomsday preppers types?"
"Exactly. Well, I really doubted they would wander this far out, but everyone was pretty confident anyways. And that's when they came."
"Who?"
"The military. At least, it looked that way. They spotted our flares a few days ago, and sent a greeting party, probably to recruit us."
I nodded. "Oh…"
"Well, you've seen what John had to say, and none of us were happy to join."
"Yeah, none of us, Gwen, this would have been prevented if we just joined them! But you people had to-" Some guy stormed out.
"Oh, so YOU want to join them now. Go, be my fucking guest, run after them and kiss their asses. Get the fuck out of my camp!" She kicked the guy out, and slammed a backpack into his face.
"Y-you'll regret this one day! You can't do this!" He yelled. Stan stood up and spat on him, while John looked away from the scene.
"As I was saying, we declined their offer, and they… they charged in a few minutes later. They had helicopters, Percy. Helicopters!" I could see the light trauma begin to form in all their minds, and I agreed, a helicopter raining down machine-gun fire was a terrifying visage.
"Then we train. We get stronger. We prepare defenses, and use our new weapons." I said. Gwen didn't look too uplifted. "Percy, I'm worried about if they come back a second time. We barely got by after the first encounter, and we numbered close to two hundred. How are we supposed to fight the military when we've only got a handful of people left?"
She was right. Our numbers were no more than a drop compared to what we had before. The military, if it even was the military, had superior firepower, tactics, and numbers. They more than likely had everything to counter a normal bunch of people. But see, that's the thing. We didn't just have normal people. We had not one, but two demigods, both being sons of Poseidon. One of us was strong enough. Not only that, but with the gods gone… I don't know. I've felt stronger. Like I've had a weighted vest on for so long and just now took it off. My reflexes were faster, my strength was definitely improving, and my manipulation of water was getting stronger, and I was able to control more at a time.
We didn't need an army. We had two demigods that the world didn't know about. "Gwen, leave handling them to me." My voice was like steel, surprising even me. I could tell Gwen was looking at me, but as to what face she had on was up in the air. Honestly, I didn't care. No one fucks with my family and gets away from it. If Nemesis were still alive, she'd be shoving me along this path with enough enthusiasm to make even a drunken Mr. D. to throw up.
Someone else was coming to join us. I heard the footsteps before Gwen did. "Hey guys," Bran said, shuffling up next to Gwen. I'm pretty sure it was because they were completely head-over-heels for each other, but they would say it was because of this damned cold front, because they, and I quote Bran, "weren't together together." Everyone else, however, knew. We also knew that they had taken a shared residency. You know… private moments and all that.
Seeing as how Gwen wasn't arguing with me taking over retaliation, I figured there was nothing left for us to talk about. Gwen and I still weren't great friends, but we were acquainted enough to not want to kill each other. That was a plus, at least.
Down in the main square, as we took to calling the big open area between the houses and the gate, now freshly repaired with thanks to the engineers pulling triple overtime to repair it and the wall, a light frost had settled on the ground. Only about ten or so people were out. From the looks of things, they were the morning security shift. It had been six days since the attack, and the air was still heavy with mourning. Families were cut short and broken, and barely anyone was willing to walk around without security on the clock.
Lance had taken to pulling security detail as often as he could without dropping. I could see him, patrolling the far eastern section along with Stan. Stan carried with him a hunting rifle with a scope, while Lance looked like he had a pistol and one of the swords from our haul from Dad's palace.
John was busy doing rounds throughout the now abandoned parts of our settlement. He had volunteered along with three others to gather supplies from the now empty houses. We had a unanimous vote to leave anything that wasn't necessary, so taking personal affects was a big no-no. From their scavenge we'd manage to secure ninety percent of our canned goods, seventy-five percent of our spare clothing materials, and every single weapon we had loaned out for personal defence, along with every single round of ammunition with them. The fresh food was abandoned too, since we had no way of storing anything.
By the time the scavenge was over, John had asked to patrol the dead portions, as the few remaining people we had refused to move into the houses there. So there he was, walking by silent houses of dead people. I had taken to staying in the white tent we used for meetings or emergencies to try and plan a counter-strike against the military. Granted, now that I think about it in depth, the more I realize I sound like a Wolverine from Red Dawn… or a deranged terrorist. Whatever the case, they attacked us first, and there was not a snowball's chance in Hell I would let them get away with it.
I first began by having engineers draw up a map of the base, then have our scouts (what remained of them, anyway) add in details of the surrounding land. Once that was finished, I had to swallow my pride and emotions and asked everyone about the attack. Where did the come from? How many of them were there? How did they attack? How long did each attack last? Things like that. Surprisingly, everyone gave an answer, even though I probably forced them back through some traumatizing nightmares. By noon, I had a map of arrows, each a different color to indicate which direction they came from, which direction they left, where they attacked, etc. On the table I had a simple journal with details about the attack. The one thing I kept coming back to was that they had helicopters, but no tanks.
Now, I'm not going to say I want to be like these assholes, but if I had to think like them, tanks would have been a great asset. They were huge, tough, and could have easily forced a surrender without having to fire a single shot. Most people wouldn't have had any real world experience with tanks, so seeing one point its barrel at you would have probably made you comply with whatever demands the driver had. Maybe… Yeah, they probably didn't think it was necessary.
Another thing I was coming back to was how quick and thorough they were. It's like they knew where we were in the first place, and had the layout beforehand. As far as I knew, we only threw out one person in the entirety of this settlement's lifespan, and that was after the attack.
If they were the military, then maybe they could have gotten the layout from satellite imaging. I remembered once how Annabeth had discussed having a camp satellite to have an edge over the monsters, but Mr. D. was pretty quick to shoot her idea down. If they did have a satellite, then maybe we could use it… if we managed to take over the base they were using in the first place. Which brought me to the biggest hole in my plans: where were they stationed at?
I had studied the maps for hours, hoping that some miracle would occur and I would have a brilliant stroke of luck, like Annabeth whenever she went after a college-level math problem.
Scouting turned out to be the final solution. If we didn't know where they were, we had to find them, not look for them on a map. The river was a good place to start, as people usually settled there for the water, as we had.
I waved a farewell to the settlers and dove in, enjoying cool water and the occasional fish. I sunk to the bottom, faintly remembering that strange thing last time I was in a body of water. A few hundred thousand large rocks covered the bottom of the clear river, its condition being better than any i'd ever been in. As I started to move around, I rested my sore shoulders, letting the rocks massage me.
I closed my eyes and stopped.
Where was I?
The water was now clear, I could see all around me. The built up sediment had cleared around me in a giant bubble. The occasional fish swam up, gave a greeting, and swam off downstream. Up above, I could see a few other animals stop to take a drink and move off. After a few minutes passed by I saw one of the wolf mutants walk up to the river.
Good gods it was even uglier up close. I mean, I know I fought these things hand to hand often, but they died so quick I didn't have time to really look at them. Up close I could see this particular mutant had some crusted bloodstains on its coat. For the longest minute we had a staring contest. I wasn't sure if it could see me, and I sure as hell didn't want it to. My heart pounded in my chest as I waited. I wasn't scared. No, instead… I was excited. Being so close to one, easily in my reach, it was exhilarating.
After a long, silent minute passed, it began to lap water just like a dog. As it drank from the river, I could see its tongue was just as black (perhaps purple-ish) as its coat. I could see the beginnings of a skull face, slowly maturing year-by-year. I calmed down completely and grabbed its head, enveloping the foreign object in water. It coughed and bubbled and whimpered, but I held the fucker down until it no longer moved, only twitching slightly. The black mist thankfully did not pollute the river, but instead evaporated into nothing.
I hummed a light tune to myself as I continued to wait. For some reason, I can't imagine why, the crab from the Little Mermaid had wormed its way into my head and started to sing Under The Sea. Yeah, I know. Just hearing that song's name plays it. Sorry, not sorry.
Anyway, after three renditions of that accursed song (I loved it as a kid, but it's not exactly the thing to listen to on a mission), I finally had my target, unless of course there was another group that just so happened to have military looking gear, standard military assault rifles, and a Humvee painted camouflage forest green.
I do realize that I made a small deal of basically everything important, hence why no one came to me to hear… the two prophecies. Hell, I don't even remember the "great" one!
Three of them began to fill large metal containers (the ones that look like gasoline containers, but I guess these were drinking from… unless these guys wanted the Kool-Aid that badly), while one of them walked off to take a whiz. I could tell he was taking a whiz because the bastard had stopped just in front of a tree and stood there with his hands going towards his hoohah. The hell are they doing here? Exposition?
While I sat there, I began to ruminate on how I would track these guys without being seen. They were literally taking water, so I could track them that way, but it only worked for so long. That, and usually trying to find water ends up with me finding rather large puddles after rainfalls.
Still, I had one idea that might work. The sludge of the river was something I could sense to, and it felt just how it looked to me when I sensed it and water: murky, slimy, and pretty much liquid mud.
I knew that if I tried to get close or if I tried to maneuver the murk into their water cans they would notice and either A) Shoot the shit out of me or B) get the cans out of water before I could do anything else to track it. So, I had to improvise. There were some fish nearby that were swimming blissfully. Hey guys! Mind creating a diversion a little upstream for a few seconds? I asked them. The fish were all too happy to do so, going nuts and breaking the water's surface almost next to the guy taking a piss.
It worked for a three seconds, seeing as how the four guys turned their attention to the swarm of fish long enough for me to plant enough sludge in each of the containers to track but not be noticed.
Once that was done, I thanked the fish, and waited until the guys left. Judging by how they picked up their pace in the last two minutes they were there, I was willing to guess some mutants were sighted. Better to eliminate them both. Two birds with one stone!
Swirls of dust were kicked up as their vehicle hurled off, silence taking over the air above soon after. I waited one minute. Two minutes. Three minutes. Nothing came to take a drink. Still, these mutants were smart. Well, at least in Zerg rush terms. I swam to the surface, but instead of breaking out like I normally would, I was silent and slow, not even causing a ripple as I surfaced. There were two mutants, both wolves, resting in the clearing.
I seriously was not in the mood to deal with these things, so unfortunately for the two mutants, the river burst to life, a miniature tidal wave that grabbed them both and pulled the under. It wasn't long before they were nothing more than dissolving clouds of black mist.
My senses were heightened as I used my powers to search for the sludge-infested water. It was about two mile- wait. Two miles? I could sense that far? Freaking sweet! Anyway, the water was about two miles east of the river, and were slowly moving. I'm willing to guess they were going through a rough patch, but If they were at their base, then I'd accept that too.
Still, I wasn't about to take any chances. I may have been stronger than the average demigod, but I wasn't immortal. Had I been immortal I would have gone in full swing, but I wasn't so I wouldn't. I made sure to memorize where I was upstream before heading back to base. The sun was starting its descent by the time I got back. Kronos politely informed me of the clocks hitting 5:41 UTC, which seemed about right. Gwen was the first to find me.
"What did you find?" she asked. That was it. No 'Hello!' or 'You're back!' Just, "What did you find?" Guess she was still sore about the whole me and Lance having been gone thing.
"I found some of them getting water from the river about a half mile upstream. They bugged out soon for some reason. I'm going to take Lance and see if we can't spot some kind of base of operations or whatever."
She frowned. "Lance? I know he's a good fighter, but is he really the best choice for a scouting mission?" I was surprised Gwen, of all people to admit that Lance was good.
However, that didn't mean I would always meet some resistance in my plans. It was obvious she didn't like me, nor did she forgive me for what happened earlier. I could live with that. She would sometimes insult me or vote against me when the gain was so little to her. I could also live with that.
"Absolutely not." See?
"Percy, the last time you and Lance went off on a mission, we were completely and utterly devastated." I looked at her sideways, kind of insulting her for shooting down a plan literally everyone else on the council would have agreed upon.
"And you have a better idea?" I asked.
"Yes, we send in people actually experienced in navigation, scouting, and spotting! Percy, this isn't a simple hit-and-run! We need plans, and I don't doubt your ability to create a good one, but by remaining here you give everyone a better chance of survival-"
"What do you mean by experienced? I thought all of you were just better runners…" I'll admit, that wasn't the best of speechcraft, but I had definitely struck a heavy nerve.
Gwen thankfully remained the ever patient person she was, and left.
The next few silent hours were spent on extra rations for the planned scouts, some basic conditioning, and a quick spar with Lance. There was no reason for Gwen to sideline me like that. I could easily find these goons, recon their base, and make it back in one piece. Sending out other people will only leave us with fewer people. Sending one person with a guarantee over a group with only a chance just didn't sit right with me.
CLANG!
The clashing of swords brought me out of my thoughts. Reactively I had blocked a strike from Lance, which wasn't hard given his current condition. He was soaked in sweat, panting, and swaying a little on his feet.
I was most intent on working with his practical mutant fighting skills, as that usually let a demigod develop their own styles and strategies. It wasn't about using the right technique, more like knowing the situation and making the best of it using basic skills. Advanced maneuvers had such a… narrow field of use, it would be a complete waste of time to work on them.
I do realize celestial Bronze fighting was a lot more flexible, as they were somehow enchanted to never chip, unlike most melee weapons when parrying and blocking. Hopefully dad's armoury shared the same traits.
"Alright, Lance. That's enough for today." He nodded, and let gravity take hold as he fell to the ground. I remembered the first time we sparred. Gods, he looked ready to pass out then and there. Now, Lance was still very much awake, just damned tired. He'd make a good demigod, yet.
Lance wasn't going anywhere, and since he wasn't on the verge of passing out, I decided to head out for a little stroll. Well, anyone who saw me would think I was going for a stroll. I actually had a particular destination in mind. I casually walked through the main square of our relocated "camp", relaxing my posture and poise as I let the crisp air cool me off. In all honesty, these frequent cold fronts no longer bothered nor surprised me. It was pretty much assumed that at this point any mythologically related creatures or people - aside from myself and Lance - were most likely dead.
I had rounded the bend that led from our usual little square in which everyone now stayed near, entering the so-called 'Dead Zone' which sounded completely cliche as it didn't have any dead in it, it just wasn't bustling with people anymore. Still, Lance took to calling it that, and it just kind of stuck with everyone else. The houses we built here showed much more damage than the houses near the gate, which was odd considering I would have expected the most damage on those houses by the gates. Bullet holes, scorch marks, and large gashes were on every house. If a warzone could have been fit into a small suburb, then that was it. Blood spots had rusted onto the walls, giving it a Dead Zone vibe. I was beginning to understand why Lance had started to call it the Dead Zone.
Damn, now I'm saying it like that's its official title. Oh well.
Yeah, we moved back after a couple o' days. Some might have thought the decision foolish, but honestly, we were sure (after a few days) that they weren't coming back to check for survivors.
Anywho, I strolled through, not even bothering to give most of the houses a single glance. They weren't why I was here. You see, I figured that eventually we'd be attacked. I came up with that scenario because of how many times we came across those cult bastards. If they kept attacking us, then I figured someone else would get emboldened and attack too, maybe even with a larger force.
So during the first stage of the construction of the wall, I had a select few engineers create basic escape tunnels that were hidden enough to not be found unless someone really wanted to find them, and led out about a decent distance south of the settlement.
I found the hatch easy enough. It was an unassuming metal sheet, just like the other hundreds that made up the wall. However, unlike the ones on the wall, this one had only one bolt in it, and could slide to the side if enough grease was used, and it was on the ground right next to the wall. I had… I think nine of these installed, each leading winding different directions, but eventually leading to the same place, by clearing out some vegetation.
Some of it had rusted a little because of the freaky weather we had been getting, which made it a tad more difficult to move, but once again my trip under the sea proved to be more useful than I imagined. Normally I would have a little trouble moving it without the rust. Now I was moving it like it was slathered in butter. Not the greatest analogy, but I'm not very good at those in the first place.
The sheet gave way to reveal a pitch black tunnel, the dim shape of a support beam a few feet from the edge of the hole. There wasn't much room to maneuver, barely just enough for me to crawl through. I had to wiggle and finagle (yes, it's a word, and yes I know what it means.) my way into the tunnel. I'm pretty sure I did the worm a couple of times, and at one point I debated if I should dislocate my shoulder to move and relocate it in the tunnel. It wouldn't have been the first time I had to reset one of my own limbs. You ever train with a pissed off Clarisse? Yeah, Rick played her strength down in those books. Her spear didn't just shock, and it certainly didn't break easy. I mean, come on. It was a demigod's spear, not a sharp twig.
Once inside, I managed to wiggle onto my back and close the hatch. Once that was done, I began to crawl. The tunnel was narrow, the ceiling scraped my back every so often, and I bumped into a support beam more than once, but I kept going. I had the map of these tunnels memorized by heart, so I knew where I was going. As I crawled further, I felt small rocks dig into my hands, scraping me and cutting me. I ignored them and moved on. Further and further I crawled, breathing slowly as the muggy air down in the tunnel wasn't exactly the most pleasant thing. My eyes felt droopy, my arms protested against me, and I'm pretty sure the knees in my pants were scraped away at this point. My body ached all over. Gods, what I wouldn't give to have Hazel here. She'd bend and twist these tunnels to fit everyone and give everyone room to stand.
I placed my hand to crawl down when it slipped into the dirt. It was like mud, and reminded me of the time Gaea had pulled me into the ground during the Giant War. Yeah, fun times that.
I twisted and pulled trying to free my arm, not wanting to be stuck in these tunnels any longer than I had to, but the ground refused to give up. I put my other hand on the ground to steady myself, only for it to sink as well. Fan-fucking-tastic.
So I lay there, my arms literally in the ground, spurting curses in both English and Greek, pulling with everything I had to try and free myself.
I had pulled again, only to immediately stop. My body began to twist and contort and I felt a huge, dull pain stab through me like an electric current. My vision, whatever it had been before in this no-light tunnel, darkened to the point that I couldn't even see anything in front of me. I did everything I could to free myself, only to find the pain become even stronger. My muscles tightened to the point I thought they were going to pop. My body pulled itself closer and closer into the dirt, even though my arms were the only things inside the ground.
This is how I die, went the sad little voice at the back of my head. I normally ignored that voice, but it had wormed to the very front of my brain and began to take over my thoughts. I, Percy Jackson, slayer of Titans and Giants, Bane of Gaea, Atlas' Tricker, Slayer of the Nemean Lion, would be beaten by dirt.
…
Oh HELL NO!
All at once my body surged with energy… I twisted to my left, and felt the dirt easily give way and my right arm shot free. I did the same for my left arm, and soon found myself with a LOT more space to move around with. But something was wrong…
I bent my knees and pushed myself up, feeling the earth shift and groan in response. The giant mass nearly collapsed on me, but somehow I held it together. Something was still wrong…
A batch of dirt fell into my face, and then my eyes. I yelled and tried to claw it out, but I felt nothing there…
That was when I noticed it.
You ever have those pains when you were a kid? The kind that you get for no reason? That's what this felt like. However, the pain was much worse than growing your bones, and came in the form of dirt in my fucking eyes!
My eyes were held tight as I tried to remove it, but it was like there was no dirt in the first place. All I felt was eye-watering (literally) pain.
I was blind.
There was no light, only the tears. I cried and stumbled, falling on my right arm. Under normal circumstances, I would have probably broken it (falling onto a sharp ass piece of rock and yourself), but for whatever reason, I wasn't harmed. Not that I would have cared much anyway since I was just blinded.
It didn't feel like godly aura. No… it didn't feel like any aura, really. There was no aura, and there was no soul, but only Gaea, and my body.
And I understood.
Gaea's knowledge was spread wide and far across her body, and every immortal, every mortal, every archetype that dared pass her gave her a piece of themselves.
Poseidon.
The thing I experienced was no soul work; it was only a work of the body responding to great water pressures that I had never dared pass into because of my fear of drowning. It was an open secret: Any son of Poseidon that stepped further than four kilometres into the depths would be gifted with a body to survive such environment. Lance was an exception, you see. Godly magic worked in mysterious ways, being able to act as a perfect environment suit.
The knowledge was gone at once, and I was left with little white vibrations within my senses. Little blips, like dirt rolling around. I took a step and "saw" a clatter of things bounce around and eventually settle. Like I would do with water, I stretched my senses further, with the intent to find. I didn't want to know, but instead I now had the intent to do so.
My brain briefly short-circuited at the sensory overload, but I reduced the vision to only in front of me. I crashed forward, breaking the dirt and holding it in place. I had no clue to where all this power was coming from, because Gaea was a little bitch.
Still, with this new 'sight' I went to work, traveling through the corridors three times faster than before. I could run, the ceiling and floor bending and reshaping itself as I ran. It was like I was dealing with water, only I had to 'push' a little harder for control.
What should have taken me about a few more unbearable minutes of crawling only took no more than a minute. Seriously, crawling was a tedious task! I barely squeezed my way through the exit, but I remembered that I could "push" the dirt. Gods, I was an idiot… I brushed the dirt off of me, since this seemed quite different from my… liquidkinesis? Was there a word for mostly-water,-but-some-other-things-as-well,-but-not-as-efficient-control?
With absolutely no idea how to control this "thing", I extended my senses, much like on the ocean, beyond my eyes. Sensory overload was a main issue, but I tried to cope with by occasionally doing a 360 check.
"Ow." I slammed into a tree, but this… underwater thing protected me.
What would that be, then? An ability for enhanced survivability at the seafloor? Aquatic… creature? No. Aquatic being. Yeah, that struck pretty well. Reminds me of a comic somehow, but I haven't read a book for… I dunno, at least a year. There weren't too many Greek translations floating around. Speaking of Greek, since that was based on demigod dialect, it was much easier for me to learn.
I decided to take a short break, and sat down against a tree. While doing so, I practiced my newfound senses. I found it much easier to find water and pockets of earth now, with this new "energy source". It didn't feel like anything I'd seen before, but from my observations, it only served fuel to the… Geokinesis. I think that was the word for it. It didn't protect me, didn't make me stronger, it was just there.
I found little packed blips of water and strange contractions in the earth an hour's walk from here, so I assumed that was camp. I shifted the power "left" of the camp, and moved. As it got blurrier and blurrier, my senses converged on a rapidly moving blip. It felt… different. I could smell it in the air, almost touch it with my skin.
Oil.
Gasoline, to be precise. And pretty high quality, the godly nature of the power reminded me. With both abilities having the ability to sense it, these… things were pretty easy to find. Soon, my little "map" had underground specs of crude oil on it… well, not like it was going to be very useful. We couldn't refine it anyway. The little car sped out of my reach, and the feeling of the slimy substance faded. I tried my best to navigate, but I had a hard time concentrating on two tasks at once. There was something along the lines of a mental block there, similar to when I was using too much water for me to handle.
After a long walk, I flopped down. Was this it? Was I going to just ditch the camp, Lance, and look for the military dudes? I couldn't tell, but from the way it had suddenly grown silent, I assumed night was upon me. I dunno, being a son of Poseidon AND having this new power meant that I could preserve heat perhaps too well. Forgetting to put up a fire or any sort of shelter, I lost the will to stay conscious.
Dirt. Dirt, mud!
I gasped, but there was no air. I found my head stuck within the earth, and the memories of drowning came back, stronger than ever. I tried to touch my face, but all I found was dirt. I pulled my head out of the ground, expecting to see sunlight. Instead, there was only darkness… and a brilliant white. I turned my attention to the moon, fully viewing it in its eternal glory. I could see again.
To get a better view, I hopped on top of a tree, the enhanced strength making the task easier by tenfold. I just… sat there, watching the night sky. Millions of stars were present, beyond my count.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" Annabeth asked.
I ignored her and fell asleep again, in the warm cradle of the tree.
A/N:
Goodsir: Ah, darn. Still mostly filler. I promise we'll get to the good stuff next chapter! Notice: We'll be moving this to T, as I believe it will get some more traffic. Once the… *ahem* more mature things are up, we'll move it back up.
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