Author's Scribbles (Excuses): If you must know, I was skiing in the trails with a few of my friends to look for someone who had lagged behind. I couldn't stop in time and crashed into my friend (who was just standing in the middle of the trail), a tree, and then promptly gave myself a pretty impressive nosebleed.

So you can understand why I wasn't in the writing mood. That's why this chapter is so late. I'll get to editing it later, when I'm not so royally pissed off.

Important Note: I've gone back and edited all of the previous chapters to make it mesh together better, as well as to fix any minor errors that may have occurred. You don't need to read it all again, but I would recommend that you do if you're still confused, because I've added a scene that should explain how Percy started to merge with Erebus.

Review Replies: [northstarwarriorqueen]-thank you for bouncing ideas with me!; [WeAreTheWorld]-well, I think Pertemis is a little bit too overused now. It's time for me to start a new trend ;); [Intellectually]-I'm glad you liked it! And yes, Percy will eventually be crossing dimensions, but he still has to get this one under control first. Wise-Master was a reference to Daedalus; [FaTaLClanWii]-no, Mrs. O'Leary got to Percy when both he and Kronos-Luke had already killed each other. She thinks that when people die, they erupt into ashes like Daedalus had. Clarisse collapsed out of exhaustion. Percy will be returning to the real world later on. Reyna will be factored in quite soon, and the Ancient times are just memories that Percy still needs to regain; [2airtoon2000]-in case you haven't noticed, this story isn't a romance story. Yes, Percy and Reyna will get together, and it will be pretty epic. Just not yet; [JACKSON]-it will get happier! Trust me, but I'm glad you think it's good; [CookieMonstAri]-yes! My life goal is complete. I've finally written an adequate piece of fanfiction. If you have any questions though, feel free to ask; [DeathmatchDrunkard]-I've revised the whole story to better clarify when Percy started to merge with Erebus. It started after he dipped in the Styx, as it is the river of lost hopes and dreams. This sparked a change in him that was only fed by the despair he encountered in Tartarus. And while I do love Nico, very much, he's not going to get the chance to start another world war, and neither will Thalia. Yes, the previous chapter was when he was taken out of Tartarus by Death and reinstated as her champion. As for Percy's mother, (Chaos is a guy in this), think... the Greek monster version of a veela from Harry Potter; [WideOpenSpacesgirl045]; only three times? You're a lot more merciful than I ;) You're going to hate Richard a whole lot more by the end of this chapter. Reyna's coming soon!; [newfoundedfantasy]-thank you, and I'll do my best; [BeautifulNoMatterWhat]-I shudder to think of the bloodbath that will ensure!; Tally Jennifer Youngblood-I've re-edited the whole story, so maybe it'll help clarify any confusions. If not, feel free to drop a message; [Demitri Vaughan Amante]-I'm thrilled that you like this story! Maybe I've finally written something worth reading... that's an encouraging thought. You're going to hate Richard a lot more by the end of this chapter; I'm debating the best ways to kill him right now...; [Wrestling is my best skill]-thank you! :); [ShadowFireZelda]-yes, indeed he has; [ThePhilospherOfOld]-awe, you're making me blush. Thank you :); [sh8ad8ow]-I would certainly hope so; [Guest]-Percy and Erebus were one and the same. Erebus struck a deal with Death (that will be explained later on), and as a result, Death made him her champion. But since he was already dead, Death reincarinated him as Percy.

I'm flattered so many people like this story. I hope this chapter does not disappoint.


-X-


"I've finally realized...it's too late."

Chapter IV
Fehu
ŧ

Rune for new beginnings, wealth, freedom.

Thalia was sitting at the Hades table, watching as Nico scowled and prodded his food with a fork. It wasn't protocol for her to be here, but neither of them could be bothered to adhere to the rules anymore. None of the other campers dared to call them out on it, and the bossier ones were quickly silenced by her scathing glare, the one she learned from watching Zeus. Thalia had to admit that it did work pretty well, even if it did contort her face in ways that she didn't even know existed.

"—don't know what's up with him," she was saying, chewing absently on a piece of bread. Neither of them really put much focus into their conversation, but it helped to fill the gaping silence that threatened to swallow them alive. Thalia took a small sip of her drink, frowning slightly at the bitter taste. "Zeus has been acting pretty, well, odd, even by his standards. But—hey, Nico, are you listening? Nico?"

Nico hadn't replied in a while, and when Thalia turned to give him a curious glance, he didn't even look up. His face was twisted in a peculiar expression and he stared, unblinking, at his plate. Something gnawed in Thalia's stomach, a kind of dread that refused to go away. She pushed it aside and tried for a smile.

"What did your food ever do to you? You look like it was trying to kill you or something."

The glass clenched in his hand shattered in a spray of shrapnel, sending drops of his blood edging down the piece piercing his hand. Nico still didn't blink, as though the pain never even registered in his mind. His brow was scrunched into a confused frown, like he was puzzled over why he had suddenly toppled off of his bench with a sickening crack. Thalia had half risen in alarm, but he couldn't hear her voice; everything was just a buzz in his head that never went away...

And then the bemusement was contorted by the sheer agony that suddenly burned him from the inside out, liquefying his bones until he was sure he was screaming, but no sound left his mouth...

None of the campers had noticed that anything was amiss. Thalia shouted something unintelligible, throwing herself to her knees beside him, her eyes ablaze with horror and fright.

"Nico?" she said frantically, rolling her cousin over. His head lolled limply, dark eyes lifeless and empty, the pain in them blissfully faded. "Nico? Wake up, stop scaring me! Nico! This isn't funny!"

The demigod didn't move. A surge of panic rose in Thalia's throat, and she shook his arm harder. It probably wasn't the best thing to do to a possibly severely injured person, but for the first time in so long, she was terrified.

Nico's skin was already cold. When Thalia fumbled for his wrist, she found no pulse.

"No..." she whispered, her voice rising with panic. "No... this isn't happening... wake up, goddamnit! Don't leave me!"

Her screams seemed to knock some of the closest campers into action. They dragged her, kicking and screaming, away from his body, dodging her clumsy fists and flailing limbs as struggled to break free.

Chiron knelt down on his front legs, two fingers pressed to the son of Hades' neck. But when his head bowed and he slowly closed Nico's eyes, Thalia felt the last bit of hope in her chest shatter.

She began to laugh, a horrid sound that echoed hysterically in her chest. The grief was too much for her to handle; she had lost everything, her life had been snatched away from her.

"You..."

Her wild eyes spun to the remaining son of Poseidon, who looked at her with a badly formed expression of shock. But after spending years on the run with a child of deception and trickery, she could see right through his mask, see right through the innocence he was portraying. Richard radiated smugness, a kind of self-satisfied glee that betrayed the truth of his actions.

"I will rip you apart—"

Thalia stalked closer, her hands trembling with barely suppressed anger. The air crackled with discharging ozone, and the campers that tried to stop her from reaching her intended target were pushed to the side with a force that left them paralyzed and twitching.

"Child—" Chiron started halfheartedly, but Thalia paid him no attention, her body crackling with trapped lightning.

"I know it was you," she whispered. Already, the poison was starting to work its way through her body, making her see black spots. She pressed on, breathing harshly. "You... you cannot hide the truth forever. There is nowhere under the sun you can hide from me. I will...have your soul."

Blood spilled from her lips and she thudded to the ground, life draining away from her expressive blue eyes.


For some odd reason, trouble always found Percy in the most inopportune ways.

He was walking down the cobbled streets, trying to blend in —"You need to learn the ability to hide in plain sight, Percy," Death had said— when the earth itself began to rumble, throwing civilians and buildings alike tumbling to the ground. Percy was only able to keep standing because of his status as the son of the Earthshaker.

He had reached immediately for the black crystal winking coldly from around his neck. It would mean blowing his cover, but Percy had never exactly been subtle.

Before he could decide what to do, a fissure split the ground in two, revealing the open maw of lava that bubbled and foamed beneath the surface. Shockwaves rippled through the air; not enough to kill or do any lasting damage, but just enough to be taken as more than a rumble of the earth. Civilians screamed, some of them panicking as their shoes began to melt from the intense heat.

The ground erupted, bubbling and churning as a skeletal hand burst out in flecks of dirt. The bone was clean and white, like vultures had picked off all of the flesh.

In that instant, Percy had twisted the crystal of his scythe, still trapped in pendant form, and an image shivered over his own, static disrupting the illusion. He couldn't have people drawing the connection between him and Erebus —he'd found that out the hard way when people screamed something in that odd language of theirs and ran like the devil himself was on their heels. Maybe to them, he was.

In the mayhem, no one noticed when a black haired, green eyed boy was replaced by a figure with a shock of dark brown hair and chilling blue eyes.

"Messenger," Percy intoned in a bored voice, stepping forward. The skeleton turned to him, fixing those hollow eye sockets on Percy, who tried not to show how much they unnerved him. It had the effect of almost staring into his soul. "Has Death called for me?"

The civilians around him backed away hastily, not understanding the English but not wanting to risk getting caught in the middle of a potentially dangerous situation. They probably thought he summoned the skeleton to massacre them all. Silly mortals. If he wanted to do that, they would all be dead.

Joints creaked in the skeleton's spine as its head moved in what looked like a stiff, jerking nod. From its ribcage, it drew out a blood red scroll emblazoned with the image of a black scythe.

Percy exhaled slowly, taking the summons gingerly as though it could explode in his face at any time. Another elimination mission. He took a moment to slit open the seal with his thumb, unfurling the parchment to flick his eyes quickly over the message.

"Fine," he said aloud. He snapped the scroll shut, strapping it to his back. "It will be done."

The messenger gave him another sharp nod, holding out a clenched hand and slowly unfurling the joints, each crack sending the sound of a gunshot echoing over the silent crowd. Percy took it cautiously, and was not very amused when they spontaneously combusted into a column of ash and hellfire.

At least he wouldn't have to explain what had just happened to the mortals.

-o-

Despite getting off on a rocky start, Percy was looking forward to an easy day.

Death had given him a standard elimination mission to kill off the horde of bandits —there were so many that Percy was convinced they must be breeding like rabbits in there— currently terrorizing the city of Helios. So far, it had gone off without a hitch, and Percy had wade through their numbers, cutting them down like sheep to the slaughter.

Indeed, his day had been so easy that Percy was just waiting for something to go wrong.

Percy spun a knife around his finger, slamming the end down on the last rotation. With a smooth motion faster than most see, the knife broke the sound barrier with a sharp crack, resonating through the forest like a thunderclap.

The target didn't even see it coming. It cut through his neck and stuck into the bark of an old tree, the butt end quivering with unexpended force. He could feel the man's life force diminishing, wailing as it was torn away.

The back of his neck prickled.

Following the instincts screaming at him, he twisted his arm back in an evasion and cocked his head to one side sharply, letting the blow whistle harmlessly past his ear. He felt his arm knock aside someone else's, which had been plunging for the small of his back, twisting at the last second to sweep his leg under his attacker. Caught off balance, the man stumbled.

A flash of metal; the deed was done.

Someone behind him screamed a war cry.

"Fool," Percy muttered. With a deceptively swift turn, he evaded the lunge, appearing again behind the man in his blind spot.

But he wasn't prepared for blow from behind. Instinctively, his body moved on its own, not enough to completely dodge the sword, but Percy got away with just a flesh wound instead of a mortal blow. Nevertheless, it hurt, stinging when he prodded it gingerly, one hand holding his side.

"Ha!" his attacker shouted in triumph. "You're wounded. I can finish you off on my own. Not so high and mighty now, are you?"

Great. Two of them. More idiots for me to deal with.

Percy released his scythe from its dormant form, feeling the metal hum in anger under his touch. The two faltered slightly. "Not so high and mighty now, are we?" Percy mocked back, using their words against them. It did what he intended, driving them into a frenzied rage.

They didn't even have time to blink before Percy was behind them, impaling them both and successfully ending their miserable lives.

Percy could hear his breath rasping in his throat, silently cursing the weakness that had not fully managed to leave from his three-year stay in Tartarus. It was a sore spot with him, and one he planned on improving. But for now, he had more important matters to attend to.

He had just begun to move out of the clearing in pursuit of the leader when he heard a low moan.

Percy froze, his eyes flashing in the direction of the voice. He reached down idly, yanking the knife out of the bandit's back mercilessly, ignoring the trickle of blood that oozed down from the puncture wound.

It was coming from the copse of bushes to his left. Percy approached warily, his feet barely making a noise as he ghosted towards his target with a deathly grace.

He supposed he could use the shadows to allow him to approach unseen, but his endurance wasn't exactly as it should be. Already, Percy could feel the drain on his energy from the multitude he had expended in the elimination of the bandit camps. While they weren't exactly skilled fighters —street brawlers, the lot of them— there were just so many that even Percy was exhausted by the end.

And the fact that he was covered head to toe in blood didn't help matters.

Cautiously parting the branches and leaves, Percy tensed, getting ready to fight if he was walking into a trap.

The first thing he saw was the white hair caked with dried mud, turning it a murky brown. The boy's skin was pale, too pale to be healthy. He looked about the same age as Percy, maybe even a little bit younger. The muddy trench and broken branches, half washed away by rain, suggested that someone had dragged him into the bushes and never returned.

Upon first glance, Percy thought he was dead. But he could feel a soul still attached to his body, still struggling to maintain hold to the mortal world.

He crouched down, examining the ruby hilt embedded in the figure's stomach. The wound was crusted with dried blood, looking to be about a week old. It was a miracle he was still alive.

Percy attempted to extricate the knife, constantly watching for any fluctuations in his soul that could prove to be fatal. But he barely twitched as the champion of Death pulled the blade through as gently as he could, noting the green tint of the metal that signified poison. Whoever had tried to kill this boy didn't want to take any chances. Inexplicable feelings of protectiveness and bitter resentment rose up in his chest.

When he pulled one of the boy's eyelids up to check the pupil, he was greeted with a vivid blue.

"—you have nice eyes, Aether. They remind me of a cloudless sea."

And when the kid moaned his name, Percy knew that suddenly, his day had gotten a lot more complicated.

-o-

Aether

On hindsight, Aether could admit that maybe, just maybe, his plan hadn't been that great after all. The execution certainly left many things to be desired. He knew that Nyx would have had his head if she'd found out how stupid his idea was (though, it certainly wasn't the worst he'd ever done), and he didn't even want to think about what Percy —though that never had been his name, had it?— would say, if he was still with them. Probably something scathing and sharp, but ultimately, he would be the one to drag Aether's sorry ass back to camp and heal up the worse of the wounds.

Aether bit his lip as a wave of pain crashed into his heart. He supposed that that particular wound would never heal properly, and some part of him didn't want it to. It felt wrong, to forget, to let the hurt dwindle away.

So maybe jumping into the front lines of the battle because he thought he saw his brother wasn't the greatest idea. But his body moved on its own, and it wasn't his fault. At all. Really.

...okay, well maybe it was, just a bit. It was stupid of him, and now he was paying the price, half buried under the dead bodies and slowly bleeding to death, alone and hurt and cold. The stench of battlefields filled his nose until it was the only thing he could feel, the oppression drowning him until all he could see was darkness.


Death hesitated.


He opened his eyes.

For a moment, everything was ablur; dark, chaotic swirls engulfed everything, consuming him in its nothingness. He lashed out blindly, feeling panic erupt in his throat, wiping the last bit of restraint from his body.

And then he could hear the pad of approaching footsteps, could feel the indent as someone unknown knelt by his prone body. Hands —thin, calloused hands— twisted around his arm, the other resting on his forehead. He could feel the coldness of those fingers seeping into his skin.

His breath came in harsh gasps, wheezing pathetically as he fought to get away, the primal fears of the unknown choking him, forcing their icy fingers down his throat. But the unknown stranger was too strong for him to handle in this weakened state and pushed him firmly back down, ridged stones pressing painfully against his back.

A hand stroked the hair back from his forehead, smoothing it down. He spoke, voice soothing and quiet, instilling peace into his racing heartbeat. "It's all right, Aether. It's okay. I'm here. Nothing can get you now."

Was that his name? Aether? It didn't sound right.

"I... it... you..."

The voice cursed, managing to sound charismatic even as it was spitting out vulgarities that would make a sailor blush. "You're burning up," he muttered, draping something slick and cold against his forehead. Within seconds, the cloth was warmed over.

"Hot..." Aether whimpered, feeling like his blood was attempting to boil him alive. He twisted in the blankets, attempting in vain to free himself.

"I know," the voice murmured quietly, an edge of steel burning in its words. His hand tightened on Aether's forearm, the cold radiating from his body seeping into his exposed skin. "You took poison... silly little brother. I won't always be there to save you."

Only one person had ever called him that.

In his fever deluded state, he could only peer at the dark figure silhouetted against the sunlight. The voice was kneeling, and he could catch the hard glint of a weapon strapped over his back. But there was no mistaking the voice, no mistaking the amused yet concerned tone.

"Per...cy?" he mumbled, tasting the groggy disbelief of his words. The voice smiled a bit, a tiny inclination of its lips, but did not answer. His hands eased Aether's head back gently, caressing the locks of hair that drooped over his distant eyes.

"I am who you wish me to be," he said softly. "But whoever I was before, now I am to be your savior."

Percy's hands closed around something that Aether hadn't noticed before. Sunlight glared off a glass vial, containing a silvery mist that writhed and twisted within its containment.

His lips formed a question, but no sound came out except for a dry croak. Percy's mouth quirked slightly. "Hush, little one. It will be over soon."

He tipped the contents into Aether's mouth.

It tasted sour, bitter, and cold at the same time, and he didn't want to swallow. But cold fingers stroked his throat, forcing him to let his muscles go.

And then the whole world was burning, everything going up in white flame that throttled every part of him in ways he didn't know existed. It ate away at his skin, his veins, setting his nerves on fire until he was sure he'd been reduced to a pile of ash on the floor.

He could hear someone screaming; a high, keen note. It went on and on and on, and only when his lungs were torn to shreds and blood ran down his throat did he realize that it was his.

"Think before you act next time, little brother." Percy's voice was becoming fainter, fading away until almost everything was gone. Aether reached out in panic, a silent plead in his terrified eyes.

Don't go...

"—I would hate to see you again."

The world exploded into light.

-o-

He was burning and burning and no one was there where was Percy what's going on...

"My Lord, you're safe now, it's going to be okay."

But it wasn't the voice he wanted where had it gone he needed answers

He collapsed into darkness.


Nyx

Dull impressions pulled on Nyx's conscience, trying to draw her out of the darkness. She struggled to get up, a hoarse scream tearing out of her when someone yanked the arrow out of her chest with a vicious abandon.

A deathly cold hand clenched over her mouth, smothering the last agonized sounds. Nyx fell to the ground, her lips raw and bloody as her teeth sunk into the soft skin.

Another icy hand pressed itself to Nyx's sluggishly bleeding wound; it felt as though someone had turned her veins to ice. It wasn't painful, only numb, siphoning the heat out of her damaged nerves. She blinked several times, trying to clear the darkness out of her eyes to see who it was that had taken her from Death's doorstep.

The blurs focused until he could see well enough to recognize him. The green stood out, too beautiful in contrast to the bloodspattered battleground. Nyx screwed her eyes halfway shut, wincing as the harsh light seared into her pupils.

A cloaked young man kneeled by her body, his hands stained with her blood. A pale, angular face looked down at her from under midnight black hair, emerald crimson eyes narrowed in an unfathomably icy expression that seemed to chill her from the inside out.

"Percy ...?" She breathed in shock. She made to rise, only to fall backwards, coughing as her wounds thrust her down with a pained cry. Percy looked down upon her, lips thinning dangerously.

"—you had even fooled me into believing that you've changed. But Order was right; once a demon, always a demon. You'll never be anything worth having!"

"Your men will be arriving shortly. I am to keep you alive until then." Oh, even the voice was the same. Cold, bitter, uncaring, but with a trace of concern tingeing his words, if you knew how to listen. A bittersweet smile curled her mouth.

"Can't fool me ... Percy ..." she choked out. "Where ... Aether was distraught, I ..."

Dark eyes flickered to meet her own. His words were cold, blunt, and to the point, like the needle threading through her wound by skilled fingers. "The traitor died. Thousands of years ago."

"No ..." Nyx pressed on adamantly, gritting her teeth as a wave of nausea forced her to stop. "Not traitor... recognize you ... too hard to forget ..." A bandage was wrapped around her torso, Percy jerking the ends a little roughly. Nyx could feel his fingers shaking through the heavy cloth. Reaching out weakly, she latched onto her brother's sleeve desperately.

"—don't come any closer, traitor—"

Percy froze.

"Stay ... don't go ..." She didn't care if she was pleading. She needed him to stay, needed this to be real and not another illusion. She didn't know if she could bear letting him slip through her fingers again.

"—you were never even my brother. I don't know you... I hope you rot in hell!"

Percy swallowed. For a moment his face flickered, and Nyx really thought she had finally gotten through to the headstrong general, something she was never able to do. But then the mask smoothed back over his face, that blank, expressionless slate once again wiped clean.

"I am not your brother," Percy spat, in a rare show of emotion. "You made that plenty clear the first time around."

Nyx reached out weakly, trying to form the words she could not say, but Percy tugged his arm out of reach with a vicious jerk. He took several deep breaths, allowing his eyes to close. When he spoke again, it was in his flat, neutral tones, the emotion forcefully absent.

"Guess I'll see you in hell."

Then she could hear footsteps clattering, too close for comfort. Percy's head came up, eyes sharp and alert, fixing on the entrance of the tent.

A soldier burst into Nyx's line of vision, kneeling down hurriedly.

"My lady," the soldier breathed, throwing his head over his shoulder to shout hoarsely for a medic. She squinted at the soldier, finally putting a name to those sad golden eyes and blonde hair.

Chronus, the once lieutenant of ASPECT before it was... disbanded. He had been under Percy's command. Startled, Nyx turned to look for her brother.

The tent was gone.

She was lying in a shallow stone depression, the icy winds whipping harshly over them. Gritty snow was starting to gather on the brim of the soldier's helmet, the filmy grains somehow finding a way into every nook and cranny.

She tried to ignore the dryness in her throat. It felt like she'd swallowed razor blades. "Wha... where is he?" Nyx demanded, scowling at the man's blank expression.

"Percy," she clarified. "He was standing... right... right there..."

The soldier stared at her in mild concern and some barely concealed sadness. "My lady... are you feeling alright?"

"I'm fine!" she snarled, digging her fingers into the snow angrily. Ozone crackled. "Tell me where he is!"

"The... the traitor-" Chronus' face twisted at those words, and he choked them out like they burned his tongue. "He... was killed in the Battle of Souls, millenia ago."

Nyx seized upon the only point she could make sense of desperately. "But... no body was found."

"My lady... there was an explosion. Several explosions. There wouldn't have been a... a body to recover."

"But he did not die," Nyx insisted. "He's right there. Or... he was. He healed me."

The soldier regarded her cautiously, and Nyx felt a prickle of annoyance at the man's disbelief. "I'm not insane. I really did see him."

"Of course... he did..." Chronus restated, trying for a calm and soothing tone. He probably thought that he had a madman on his hands, and a dangerous one at that.

A puff of snow and wind announced the arrival of the medic, and when Nyx looked up, she couldn't help but compare Percy's quiet efficiency and the medic's bumbled boasting. The stark white of his clothing hurt her eyes, and she pushed him away roughly.

Chronus started, but did not try to stop her. He probably recognized that stubborn expression, having seen it on Percy so many times, knowing that nothing he did would change her mind.

"... where's Aether?" Nyx struggled to her feet, using Chronus as a crutch, leaning on him heavily. "I... dragged him... stabbed... injured..."

The perplexity on the medic's face was enough of an answer. Nyx relaxed, the smell of ozone fading from the air. "We have, but there seems nothing wrong with him except for heavy exhaustion. We can confirm that there was poison on the blade, but it has been neutralized. I suppose he was just really, really lucky."

Nyx bit down the retort of 'because Percy saved him,' knowing that the medic would not understand half as well as Chronus had, the latter having bled with him, fought with him, hurt with him. There was just something about risking your life day after day that forged unbreakable bonds between comrades. Civilians, constantly protected and assured of their own safety, would never understand.

Instead, she only held out her arm and said, "Take me to Aether."


Back at Camp Half Blood, they burned the shrouds.


Percy threw himself into the shadows, wincing as the darkness seemed to respond to their master's distress, lashing out and obliterating anything in its path.

The familiar nauseous pull of shadow travel jerked him out of existence, and Percy let himself go. He really didn't care where he ended up, so long as it was far away from this place as possible. Maybe running from his troubles wasn't the best solution, but Percy had stopped caring.

The memories dragged him under before he could push them back.

Percy took a step forward hesitantly, but almost immediately, Nyx moved backwards in disgust. "Don't come any closer, traitor," she hissed. Her voice was low and hoarse, but Percy could distinguish every word as it lashed down at him. "Don't come near me ever again!"

The accusation stung more than it should have.

"Nyx, let me explain-"

"Liar," her face was a rictus of disgust and hatred. Memory-Percy flinched back from her anger, as though it stung on his fingertips and burned deeply. "You were never even my brother. I don't know you... I hope you rot in hell!"

The dull pain in his chest reared its head, and he resisted the urge to claw at his heart. An expression of pure anguish crossed Percy's face, making him drop his head.

"If that's how you feel..." his voice was still low, and for once, his words were raw and unguarded. Memory-Percy's eyes were downcast, unfocused and unblinking.

"Oh, I do," Nyx spat out the words like they left a bitter taste in her mouth. "I would kill you right here, but I won't lower myself to your level. You had even fooled me into believing that you've changed. But Order was right; once a demon, always a demon. You'll never be anything worth having!"

Percy knew he couldn't delude himself any longer; she truly and wholly hated him. It didn't matter that he hadn't killed Chaos —the world had turned his last friend against him, leaving him alone once again. And for one of the last times in his life, he felt his heart breaking into tiny shards that pierced through his very soul. He could almost see every crystalline piece, edged with a hurting blue that flickered and died with every word that passed Nyx's lips.

Memory-Percy's voice no longer shook. He felt nothing, nothing at all. "...then you'll never see me again."

He didn't wait for her response.

Percy's hand balled into a fist, the left shaking uncontrollably —it had been that way ever since the minor gods injected him with a toxic substance. He ignored the nails that dug viciously into his palm and the blood that beaded up from the shallow graze.

In that moment, he had become Erebus, watching helplessly as Despair wormed her fingers around him, pulling him ever closer to insanity. It was a tightrope he was walking; one small push would send him over the brink.

Seeing Aether and Nyx again had invoked these feelings. He didn't know why being called a traitor always caused such a dark anger in his gut. Perhaps it was his fatal flaw re-emerging; he couldn't betray someone he cared about to save his life. Something about betrayal twisted his insides into a hard knot, making him cold and hard to any shows of violence.

Scowling again —it seemed to be a permanent expression as of late— he got to his feet, resolutely banishing the memory for later. This was no time to have a mental breakdown, and if he was frank with himself, he never wanted to see it again.

Maybe Death had a task for him to do, something to keep him from being still, to keep the silence from creeping up on him again.

-o-

Percy carelessly flicked the blood off of the scythe's blade. For a long and heavy weapon, it was perfectly balanced and seemed to flow like an extension of his arm. He marvelled at how frighteningly easy it was. A weapon flung, a sickening thud. And then it was all over.

The death was too quick and merciful, but Percy felt pity for the poor spectators that were simply at the wrong place at the wrong time. Well, at least it helped to take the edge off of the anger he'd had no place to vent for the past few days.

Wiping off his hands with the edge of his cloak, Percy knelt next to the now headless body.

"You," he said apathetically, pointing at one of the cowering civilians. Said boy trembled to his boots from being addressed by someone that could easily end his existence with the snap of a finger.

"M-Me, sir?" he stammered out.

Not for the first time, Percy thanked Death in his head for letting him access Erebus' memories on the language. It was like a little mental dictionary. Even with it, he was barely able to decipher the boy's stutters.

"Yes." Percy resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Fetch the head for me, will you?"

Faced with such a grisly task, the boy balked. But seeing doing what Percy told him to the lesser of two evils, he haltingly made his way to the blood streaked head, the face still contorted with fear and agony. Some of the civilians looked like they would be sick. Percy felt a dark satisfaction burn in his gut, a twisted kind of pride. The bastard got what was coming for him.

Carelessly gripping the head by its matted hair, he dismissed the boy, who bolted with his tail between his legs.

The others looked at Percy with a variety of different emotions. Some with fear and apprehension, in the same way that a deer balks from a tiger that hides in the bushes. Others looked at him with hero worship. Of the two, he could say for certain that the latter freaked him out more. Hero, he was not. One day, he might just snap from everything he'd been put through and do a Kronos on everybody. Maybe then, not even Death could stop him.

But that was arrogant thinking.

Under other circumstances, this would have amused Percy, but he had a job to do, and it was no time to get distracted.

He lifted the man's severed head, forcing the half lidded, glassy eyes to open, locking them with his. A connection formed; warmth being sucked in, leaving all of the spectators frozen to the bone and reliving their worst nightmares come to life. Over the screams and shrieks of their own mind, they distantly heard Percy speak again. His eyelids were drawn low over tempest colored eyes, giving him a dreaming, waiting look.

"You cannot escape Death," he murmured. Something about his stillness made him feel even more dangerous. It contrasted with that merciless avenger they had seen, the one who killed without a flicker of remorse.

A thin mist seeped from the man's pores, trickling from of his orifices. It circled his prone form, cold and clinging. The temperature dropped in a matter of minutes, and they could see their breaths fogging into the air.

Percy thrust his hand into the center of the mist, his entire arm coated with black hellfire.

"Awake," he intoned.

The mist started to gather around his fist, flickering occasionally and humming with supernatural energy. It clung together, slowly forming a pair of legs, a torso, shaking arms, and a fearful face. Percy's hand was positioned over the place where the apparition's heart would be, had it still been alive.

A thin thread of energy bridged the ghost's form and the prone body. It was beautiful in the beginning, sparkling with rainbow colors and a light innocence. But towards the end, the strand was blackened and shrivelled, contorting within itself grotesquely.

Percy's voice was cold, a trace of anger coloring his words. He leaned forward, a brief flare of hellfire burning away at the soul's form, making it cry out in pain. "Do you know why you are here? Answer me."

"I-I..."

"No?" Percy's anger flared again, this time bringing the spectators to their knees, gasping for breath under the pressure. "Let me enlighten you."

Raising a flame covered hand, he touched the soul's forehead.

The result was immediate.

It dropped to its knees, a silent scream of agony contorting its features. The soul ripped at its own face with its hands, its back arched from the pain.

A black light burned from its eyes, replacing those glassy orbs with hellfire. It dripped down from its eye sockets, starting to crack the face with an unearthly light.

"Do you feel it?" Percy hissed, relishing in that look of pure, unadulterated fear. "Do you feel the pain? The suffering you put others through? Do you repent? But it's too late now. Now, I will exact their revenge upon you. I will make you pay."

In an ignored part of his mind, he realized that he could see his reflection reflecting from the soul's writhing form. There was something wrong with his eyes...

"There are two sides to Death," Percy said, his hand resting on the hilt of his scythe. His eyes glinted unnaturally in the pale light. "Justice and Mercy. Justice to the damned, and mercy to the wronged. Now I wonder... which shall I give to you?"

The man cowered, whimpering in fear as his face cracked further, flaking away to reveal black, chaotic fire. He curled into a ball, as though that would save him from Death's wrath. "Please... no..."

Percy smirked. His hand clenched on the scythe's handle.

"...goodbye."


"They fear what they do not understand."


Aether

The next time he awoke, he was lucid.

"Aether? Are you alright?"

The voice swam, painfully loud to his hyper-sensitive ears. He groaned something unintelligible in response, the words going unsaid. He threw an aching arm over his face, turning away from the light streaming in from the open window.

"Bright..."

There was a rasping noise, and then the light was cut off abruptly.

"Try it now," Nyx commanded gently. "I've closed the blinds."

Aether let his arm drop, squinting as his blue eyes readjusted to the darkness. The blurs focused—

He should have expected the crash of disappointment that came with recognition. It was all a dream...

Nyx sat in a chair by his bedside, tucking her long skirt under her legs. It struck Aether how tired she looked, as though she'd aged a thousand years in a few days. The dark bags under her eyes indicated a lack of sleep, no doubt his doing. A surge of guilt knotted his stomach.

Aether's hand closed around a cold glass of water, and Nyx helped him raise it to his lips. The coolness ran down his throat, relieving the parched dryness in his mouth. He gulped it down gratefully.

"Thank you for healing me," he said to Nyx, lowering the glass and letting his arms fall back into his lap. But her eyes only creased, a line of tension visible on her forehead.

"I didn't," she admitted. "Nothing I did worked. I was never much of a healer. That was more of..."

She trailed off, but both of them knew what she was going to say.

"Anyways." She worried her lip between her teeth, as she did when extremely excited or extremely nervous. "I dragged you into the bushes and tried to get help, but someone got me before I could. Don't worry-" she added hastily, seeing Aether's expression turn into one of anger and concern. "-I'm perfectly okay now. But when I woke up, you were stabilized and the doctors said that nothing else was wrong with you."

Aether frowned, feeling the muscles in his face pull down. "That's odd," he mused. "I feel better than I had before. Almost like a piece of me that was missing had returned."

"I know," Nyx agreed, twisting her hands in her lap. "I feel the same. It's odd, isn't it? Maybe it's true, what they say about near encounters with death."

"You look like you haven't slept in ages," he chided gently. "I'm sorry it was so hard on you."

She gave him an exasperated look. "Of course I'll worry. You're my little brother."

They shared a tiny smile. "And then what happened?"

Nyx stilled, the smile dropping. "I... Order came to visit. He was concerned, you know, but there's a shortage of soldiers and he said that he doesn't trust anyone else with this but us. I don't understand it much myself. He was being very secretive."

Aether dug his fingernails into a handful of blankets, a scowl making its way across his features. "What... did he say?"

Nyx bit her lip again. "I'm not exactly sure. It seems like an assassination mission of some sort; I guess it would be the one who killed Taren."

"I never liked him. Good riddance," Aether sneered.

The Primordial of Night shrugged, amusement evident on her face. "I can't say I disagree, but he's been causing trouble for Order, so he needs to be eliminated."

Aether leaned back with a small sigh. "I suppose," he relented. "Even though I would've hugged him for killing Taren. Did you get the target's name?"

"Yes, I have." Nyx replied, but her visage was troubled, a shadow of doubt crossing her face for a fraction of a second. "And, well... you won't like this." Her eyes flicked upwards, as though to gauge Aether's reaction. Said Primordial forced himself to open his hand and release his death grip on his blankets. He smoothed down the ridged sheets, keeping his eyes fixed on his task.

Nyx wet her lips, closing her eyes. "Do you remember Percy's ASPECT codename? Our target... his name is Thanatos."


Percy should have expected this.

After all, he was killing off Order's minions one by one, no doubt setting back his plans quite drastically, and as the ruler of this dimension, he would have quite a few assassins to kill off anyone who stirred trouble.

But Order forgot to take two things into consideration.

One: Percy wasn't just your everyday troublemaker. Challenging him would be like signing your own death warrant and condemning your soul to the pits of Punishments.

And two: Death did not like people messing with her champion. At all.

So, with the record number of assassins being fifteen, Order was just begging to die.

Percy sighed, crossing his arms and leaning heavily back against a tree trunk. Looking up, he could see the crescent moon shining through the maze of bare branches swaying in the night sky.

It was a peaceful night, but Percy's premonition told him that it would be anything but.

Lifting his head, he breathed in deeply, inhaling the faint scent of burning wood. He was downwind, giving him a slight advantage over whoever was trying to flush him out of the forest. Already, Percy could make out the orange glimmers flickering behind fleeing animals, the thundering of hooves and paws drowning out everything else. A pillar of black smoke reached for the heavens, writhing in torrents over the canopy of burning leaves, illuminating the night sky with a dark light.

Percy ran a hand through his hair, grimacing as it came away sooty.

Was it too much to ask for one night without people trying to kill him?


"You think we got him?" Aether muttered, stifling the still smoldering torch under his foot. A thin trickle of smoke sifted off of the blackened surface.

Nyx concentrated, the darkness around her flaring briefly. Then she frowned, her brow furrowing in displeasure. "I can't feel him. It's like he's cloaked from the darkness, but I'm not sure how that's even possible. I'm assuming that we didn't, though—it would've been far too easy."

Aether grumbled under his breath, shifting from foot to foot. He'd never been accustomed to the darkness, like Nyx and... Nyx did.

"Do you see anything?" he muttered to Nyx, squinting and trying to allow more light to enter his eyes. That was the problem with Nyx's induced nights—he was pretty much fighting blind.

Aether could feel the swish of air as Nyx shook her head slightly. The glow of her eyes —like a cat's— was the only thing he could see in the darkness; two dark blue sapphires.

"I can see why Order sent us," she whispered back, her lips grazing his ear. Aether shivered. He hadn't even felt her move. "He's good."

"Maybe we got his location wrong?" Aether said doubtfully, still cursing his inability to see. He stepped on a half burned branch, the crack resonating so loud Aether was sure that anyone within a twenty-mile radius could hear him stomping around like an elephant.

Nyx's hand shot out and latched on to the back of his shirt collar before he could overbalance. He winced.

"Quiet," she hissed. "He might've heard us."

Aether rubbed his neck and scowled, not for the first time envying Nyx's catlike grace. She may as well be a ghost by the way she moved so soundlessly.

There was another muffled crack. Nyx whirled around, glaring, her hand snaking around Aether's arm. "Watch where you step," she muttered in annoyance.

"It wasn't me this time!" he whispered, as loud as he dared, indignantly gesturing with his other hand to prove his point. "I swear!"

And then a voice spoke from behind them, amusement clear in his tone.

"You know, it's not good to talk about people behind their back."

Nyx dropped her grip around Aether and drew her spear in one smooth motion, spinning back to face the speaker. Aether followed her example, albeit clumsier, fumbling with the hilt of his heavy sword in the darkness. The metal hummed reassuringly under his touch.

It took a few moments for Aether to see the figure perched on a burning tree branch, his feet propped back as he leaned lazily against the tree's trunk. The fire roared around him in an ever growing crescendo, but he seemed unaffected by the blaze attempting to eat him alive.

Aether couldn't help but feel shocked. "He's immune to fire!"

"Thank you for stating the obvious," Nyx hissed back, her eyes narrowing at the figure as he chuckled slowly, shrugging his shoulders in a nonchalant gesture. "You are Thanatos?"

"Thank you for stating the obvious," Thanatos echoed, and although Aether couldn't see his face, he was sure he was grinning.

"You seem awfully calm for someone who's about to die," he said, a little bit wistfully, because if they weren't enemies, they may have been friends once upon a time. He had a carefree but cautious demeanor, a combination that was difficult to achieve.

Thanatos cocked his head to the side, the humor draining from his voice. His eyes glowed with unmasked power, the kind that could tear through mountains and level seas. It was brilliant, but slightly unhinged and mad.

"Who said I would?" he said quietly, his true self cutting through the facade of normalcy he put on. The air around him rippled—

"Where did he go?" he directed the question to Nyx, who had a dismayed expression on his face.

"—here," Thanatos murmured, his breath tickling Aether's ear. His heart jolted; he swung the sword to cleave Thanatos in two, but was met with only open air.

"You cannot catch what does not exist," his voice continued, the sounds echoing like sonar until Aether could not distinguish where it came from. He seemed to be everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

And then his sword was ripped from his grasp, sending him stumbling at the sheer strength of the force. Five meters away, Thanatos stood, tossing the weapon from hand to hand with a bored expression.

"Too easy," he said, flicking his gaze down at the words inscribed on the silver of the blade. Something in his expression changed.

Thanatos froze, his mouth tightening in brief surprise. "You are... Aether..." he murmured softly, "are you not? As I recall, you had been wounded quite severely a few days ago. How are you up and fighting?"

"None of your business," Aether retorted, hoping that Thanatos wouldn't see through his bluff. The bandages wrapped around his chest suddenly seemed to be too tight.

"And that would make you Nyx, daughter of Chaos, niece to Order." Thanatos locked his timeless eyes onto the girl to his right, who stiffened. "I suppose I should give you a warning; Order is not what he seems. He will do anything for power, including murdering his own brother."

"Have we met? You seem familiar," she said tightly. Her iron tight control of her emotions clamped down on the rage bubbling in her stomach.

"Perhaps." Thanatos tore his gaze away, fixing his attention onto the horizon, where the sun was starting to come up, flaring Nyx's night away. They were running out of time.

"Perhaps we have," Thanatos repeated, his eyes flicked back to Aether. "That is up to you to decide."

Nyx's spear crackled with electricity, the sharp static drawing Thanatos' surprised attention. Nyx glared back at him, defiant, but seemed as stunned as he was.

"Nyx?" Aether muttered, eyeing the flickering weapon carefully. "When did you learn to do that?"

"Just now," she said, her voice carefully controlled to not convey her shock. "And you're the one talking... what is that at your feet?"

Aether stumbled over his legs, landing with a hard crash, staring uncomprehendingly at the pile of bones that had erupted from nowhere. Tiny pieces broke through the surface of the soil, knitting together to form the skeleton of a mouse.

"Wh–what's going on?" he stammered. Thanatos seemed to be carefully considering them, the shadows amassing his face making it unreadable.

"With great power—" he suddenly said in a different language, one that rolled off his tongue easier. Oddly enough, Aether could understand him perfectly, and he blurted out the rest of the sentence without speaking.

"—comes great need to take a nap."

It seemed the wrong thing to say. Thanatos' eyes widened and he stumbled backwards, a hand cradling his head.

"How is this even possible?" he whispered. He was speaking faster in that odd language of his, and Aether was having trouble keeping up.

Seizing his momentary distraction, Nyx snarled something incomprehensible before charging forward and slashing at him with her spear. Aether's eyes widened, and his cry for her to stop stuck in his throat.

But Thanatos didn't look up, catching the weapon slashing towards him with a bare hand, seemingly oblivious to the electricity that flowed through his veins as the spear discharged. The metal crumpled under his fingertips, leaving five indents against the spear's tip.

Then his head jerked upwards, a stormy, restless green shifting up to meet electric blue.

"Thalia," he whispered reverently. Nyx frowned, momentarily taken off guard by both his ability to deflect her weapon without being hurt and by the strange word that was oddly familiar.

"What?"

A hysterical laugh bubbled on his throat. His eyes were distant, and Aether got the impression that he wasn't really seeing them.

"Death told me you were gone, both of you," he said, ever faster, and neither of them could comprehend the flow of words that left his mouth. "She said you were poisoned, but now you're here, and this shouldn't be possible, why is this happening to me..."

Nyx bit her lip again, her eyebrows drawing low over her eyes, casting them into shadow. For some reason, she couldn't bring herself to attack him. "Thanatos..."

Thanatos cut off abruptly, his hand shifting up to a black gem tied around his neck as though it burned into his skin. Even as Aether watched him grimace, he found that hard to believe. If he could deflect Nyx's spear —made from some of the strongest metals in this dimension— and crush it, he highly doubted that a mere burn could affect him.

The merest whisps of a long forgotten memory tingled in his brain, but it was long gone before Aether could remember what it was.

"Death is calling," Thanatos said, his stance suddenly shifting to a more relaxed, calm position. "I'm afraid I must cut our meeting short."

Nyx growled, baring her teeth. "I'm not seeing Death anytime soon."

Thanatos seemed mildly surprised, the corner of his mouth twitching into a half smile. "Of course not. I meant that she was calling for me."

That took her aback. Death? She didn't exist, or not as an immortal that could summon people to her, anyways. Perhaps it was a codename for a master of his.

Nyx shook off her thoughts, mentally berating herself for letting her control slip in the middle of a battle. Though it wasn't much of one, she would admit. It had mostly been a verbal spar.

She turned sharply at Aether's surprised yelp. Their eyes met—

He collapsed like a puppet with strings cut, his eyes rolling back in his head.

Nyx screamed his name.

"Aether!"

"Don't worry," Thanatos' voice was suddenly behind her. His fingers pushed down on her neck before she could react. A tingle ran through her body, and suddenly she couldn't move, couldn't breathe, the world was fading before her eyes—

He caught her before she could tumble face first into the ground. Thanatos' arms snaked around her shoulders, supporting her as he set her down gently. His hand brushed tenderly against her forehead, wiping away the small trickle of blood that came from above her hairline.

"—you'll be seeing me again."


"A second chance at life... let them remember."