أنا بلدي أسوأ كابوس
"I am my worst nightmare."
-Ω-
Leo thought he'd never, ever return to this place after he moved to start his shop with Calypso, and he certainly didn't think that this place would survive for so long. Music pulsed from the speakers, the deep bass slamming and vibrating deep within the ex-angel hunter's chest. It was the heartbeat that fueled the Whisper, the thing that would just keep on beating and beating, vibrating the floor underneath his feet. Leo had no idea why supernatural creatures frequented these parts, with Jason finding Nico here and all, but that was a question for another time as he skirted the bodies that were thrashing and writhing like snakes on the dance floor. The music was deafening, and Leo could've screamed bloody murder and not have been heard by a person standing right next to him.
"We need to find Octavian," said Perseus' voice in his ear, and Leo had to adjust his earpiece to hear him more clearly. "I'm waiting down the block in the car; he'll sense my presence if I come too close, angelic grace and all. You need to find him, and you need to pay very close attention, since the natural magic of the world, the Mist, will work overtime to hide his…deformities."
"What about angel wings? The Mist didn't work hard to hide those," came the inquiring tone of Jason, who was somewhere nearby.
"The Mist doesn't hide divine properties, since humans don't need to fear angels, but demons are of utmost unholy nature, and therefore have to be concealed as not to cause mass panic. Demons don't usually bother humans though; it's angels that they want skewered," Perseus replied. "Anyway, you have to peel off the layers, one by one, and you'll eventually be able to find him. I tracked him here and as far as I know he's hanging around."
"Good to know," Leo mumbled into the mic and continued to search the faces of the many people crowded into the place, trying to look for something blatantly obvious like horns or something. Sadly, due to his rather embarrassingly miniscule height, Leo couldn't really see much of anything, really, and it didn't help that the smoke from the smoke machines was mingling with the clouds of marijuana that was so obviously being smoked somewhere towards the outer reaches. Leo crinkled his nose, wishing he'd had a cold so that his nose would be too clogged up to smell this place, which reeked of sweat, alcohol, pot, and sex, and the Latino boy was glad that none of the prostitutes that frequented this place had approached him yet, because it would be even more awkward now that he had a wife.
He continued to search high and low, but it wasn't like he could really ask anyone about Octavian since A) he didn't have a picture to show them and B) half of the people here scared the shit out of him. There was a woman wearing just pasties and a thong as she ground against a leather-clad man with heavy eyeliner, a hulking butch man with a tattoo of a rainbow on his shoulder, and many, many drag queens. Leo threw up in his mouth more than once during his search; there were domiatrixes toting men around on leashes, mostly naked druggies using marijuana in unconventional ways, and boys that couldn't've been more than fourteen offering to suck Leo off. He didn't see Octavian, though, and he didn't think how long he could take any more of this as he collapsed onto a peculiarly stained chair in attempt to rest.
"Calypso?" he asked hesitantly, reaching out and hoping that the fallen angel was able to hear his voice over the babble of voices and the almost painful pounding of music. There was no reply, and Leo waited in silence, closing his eyes and rubbing his head to try and sooth his awful headache. God, he needed aspirin. He sighed, defeated, but after a few more moments of quiet over the line, an agitated voice snapped:
"Yes, sweetheart?" Leo smiled to himself as his wife growled and grumbled over the line, complaining how Leo should be searching for Octavian rather than trying to start a conversation with her. She snapped, "And for your information, I'm currently hunting down a demon, which you don't seem to think is very important at the moment. Do you know how awful it is to try and flirt answers out of the bartender?"
"That's good, hon-wait, WHAT?!" Leo sat bolt upright, rage simmering low under the surface. He clenched his teeth and ground out, "Don't do that!" He just managed to hear Calypso's quiet huff of laughter over a particularly vicious bass drop.
"Don't worry, babe, he's gay. He didn't take the bait," she replied, humored.
"Wow," Leo sighed, "Just how gay is this guy?"
"Hella," Calypso scoffed. "He took one look at my wedding ring and asked me if my husband was hot, and if so why I wanted to cheat on him."
"He's almost as gay as Nico and Will," Leo remarked absently, scanning the faces once more to make sure that Octavian wasn't right next to him. As usual, he didn't see any signs that anyone could possibly be demonic in origin. There was, however, a woman whose form flickered every so often to reveal a scaly women with two snakes for legs, and Leo tried not to stare as she slithered past. The mortals around her were completely oblivious.
"That's pretty fucking gay," Calypso mused, trying her best to sound philosophical. Leo's heart warmed at that. "I wouldn't go that far."
"Hey!" Nico cried indignantly. "Nobody wants to hear your little chit chat over this joint network. Especially if it's about how gay Will and I are. We're gay. Get over it." There was a grunt of approval from Will, but the blond didn't say anything else.
"I agree with Nico," Reyna snorted, and Leo could almost see her disgusted eye roll as she said this. "No chick flick moments, please."
"I second that," Dakota slurred. The network lapsed into silence and Leo finally rose to his feet to continue his search, but not before he skirted around a very, very intoxicated man that was in the process of flirting with the sexy anime girl that was on the back of another guy's shirt. He blinked his eyes rapidly, the neon lights hurt his eyes. His awful headache was almost certainly going to develop into a migraine.
Gwen's voice startled him after the long pause, and Leo clamped his hands over his ears in attempt to hear her better, since he was just passing the two gigantic amps that were blasting rib-rattling music only a few yards away, "Dakota," she hissed through very obviously gritted teeth, "I told you to stay away from the bar."
"How come you're surprised?" Jason scoffed, and though he was chuckling a bit he sounded a bit tense and awkward. Leo, being his best human friend and having the ability to read his emotions easily, swore that the blond hissed a string of profanities, though that could've just been the fact that the rapper being broadcasted was currently shrieking how everyone should disregard females and acquire currency.
"You need to learn to be polite! Jason, as your wife I command you to shut the hell up or I will gag you myself," Piper growled in that commanding tone that, if one wishes to have a long, happy life, should always be answered by 'Yes, dear.'
"Ooh. Kinky," Jason purred (Leo could almost hear the eyebrow wiggle that came along with it), and a chorus of groans nearly broke Leo's eardrum, and despite this his groan joined theirs. They all shared a small laugh at that, but that's when Jason blurted, "Piper, I may or may not be by the strip club side of the place and I need your help because I don't know any of these people and these girls are grabbing me in places and that I don't want to be grabbed and I forgot my wedding ring in Heaven and I need help." Leo couldn't help but laugh a bit, because wow; Jason had just went from sounding like a headstrong, sassy bachelor to a needy, terrified and whipped husband in about five seconds flat.
"Are any of you actually looking for Octavian?" came Perseus' whine, and Leo jolted to attention, his ADHD getting the best of him. It didn't help that the Whisper was just full of nice little distractions that really were enticing to the eye, and with a sigh Leo continued to shove his way through the crowd.
-Ω-
"Why, hello there," Gwen announced smoothly, trying to keep her voice as level as possible. She was in the bar part of the Whisper, having attempted to track Dakota down and chew him out in person for drinking on the job, and the music here was dulled, far away from the amps as to make sure that pickup lines and drunken slurs were more comprehensive. The place, of course, smelled like cheap beer and stale cigarette smoke, the stench of it hanging low over the place like a fog, but Gwen didn't really care at the moment, nor did she care about the babble of her friends through her earpiece. All of her senses were zeroed in on the sandy-haired young man before her. At her greeting, he'd looked up and his pale blue eyes had widened to the size of saucers for a single moment, looking just as crazed as she'd remembered. That bout of initial surprise passed, though, and he excused himself from the many women that were practically draping themselves over him (Gwen knew that they were all just hookers or women looking for a good lay, considering that he looked more like a scarecrow than an actual person and was almost as pale as Nico). Despite his cool demeanor she could see the sparkle of panic and shock in his eyes, however slight.
"Gwen?" he asked faintly, his voice just as nasal and obnoxious as it'd been before, but he didn't mean anything by it, really; it was just like that by default. The ex-angel hunter could see how tightly his hands were clenched, his fingernails digging half-moons into his palm. She realized, belatedly, that the tips of them were pointed.
"Octavian," she replied smoothly, attempting to keep her eyes trained on his face and not on the two spiraling, antelope-like horns that curved from his forehead. The people passing by went right through them as if they were made of mist, but they did suddenly get goosebumps and rub their arms uncomfortably.
"Did she just say Octavian?!" Leo cried through her headpiece, so loudly that Gwen feared that A) Octavian would hear it and B) her eardrum would burst. "Gwen, where the hell are you?!"
"What are you doing hanging around the bar?" she asked coolly, trying not to be obvious and glad that the little piece was hidden behind her hair.
"She's by the bar!" Jason bellowed, and everyone stated in unison that they were coming to help her. Gwen smiled softly to herself.
"It's nice to meet you again." Octavian studied her for a moment, his eyes narrowed, and a muscle in his jaw jumped as he regarded the hilt of the knife in her boot. She doubted that a regular knife would've been able to kill him, but these knives had been gifted to her by angels. They were made to slay demons.
"Do you see…?" he began slowly, and Gwen cut him off almost immediately.
"Yes," she stated firmly, trying to keep her voice calm but laced with warning as to make sure he didn't attack her. Her low voice, however, was in part also because Octavian wouldn't be able to hear how it was going to be hoarse tomorrow, or the way it wavered at this new, menacing side of him. Octavian's confident expression seemed to crumble slightly, but he seemed to give in as he gestured for his former accomplice to follow him to the far reaches of the building. The music, though still audible, was even less prominent here.
As soon as they sat down, the demon turned to her, his blue eyes sparkling with so many questions. "Gwen, you're different."
"So are you," she shot back, her voice measured and every word calculated beyond reason. She was attempting to veer away from the truth as much as possible, and she saw the suspicion plain on Octavian's face. "People change.
"No, as in it's been sixty-eight years and you still look like you're seventeen," he hissed, and she could see just how far from human he'd become, the gleam in his eyes turning from curious to feral in a heartbeat. Gwen, however, had faced hundreds of angels that were much scarier than him, and even though a part of her was freaking out a bit at the fact that there was an actual demon sitting in front of her, she was really relying on the implication that, since she'd known him previously, he'd refrain from tearing her throat out with his teeth.
"Let's just say I've been revived in spirit," she told him simply, a hard edge to her voice. Out of the corner of her eye she saw her reinforcements advancing, and a sly grin snuck across her features. "And we have a few questions for you."
"We?"
"Oui," Annabeth replied as she took a seat beside Gwen, who couldn't help but marvel at her set jaw, along with her startling grey eyes that were sparkling with determination. Jason, Leo, Reyna, Dakota, Nico, Will, Piper, and Calypso joined the two girls, everyone's eyes trained on the two spiral horns that jut from the boy's head. "Answer honestly and nobody will get hurt."
"What the hell?" Octavian shrilled, his scarecrow-like form trembling with either rage or fear, maybe even both. "How are you all still alive?"
"That's none of your business," Jason retorted, taking control of the situation as he stepped forwards. He was wearing a purple T-shirt that clung to his muscular frame, with a Roman insignia sewn into the pocket that displayed an eagle along with the letters SPQR. She could see why all of those women by the strip club were flinging themselves at him, because Gwen loved her husband very much and even she was drooling at the sight of the blond. Dakota was slightly intoxicated, which is what she could glean from the slight lurch in his gait as she sat down on her other side, but she ignored it as he took her hand and began massaging her knuckles with his thumb. "Anyway, we have a few angels at our disposal so if you wish to keep your life we suggest you sit down, shut up, and listen."
At this, Octavian smirked, "The angels won't kill me. I'm valuable to them."
"Of course you are," Jason scoffed with a roll of his eyes, sarcasm tinging his tone. "And that's why they sent us to talk with you." The demon blanched as if someone had slipped bleach into his drink, and his lips pursed into a thin line, though he nodded in understanding. His eyes slid to Nico, Calypso, and Piper, his eyes widening to the size of saucers. Nico narrowed his eyes and the demon quickly averted his gaze, which made Gwen grin slightly. She'd never been too fond of the scrawny guy, and damn near rejoiced when she saw the humbled look on his face.
"So," Jason cleared his throat and the demon's attention snapped back to him. "The Archangels have gone missing." Octavian didn't seem very surprised, and he shrugged nonchalantly.
"Rumors have been going around," he remarked, leaning back in his seat and crossing his legs. "So how can I be of service of the man upstairs?"
"Do you have any idea who could be the cause for their disappearance?" Jason demanded. "I mean, you're a demon and you seem to have strong ties to the underground network." Octavian preened at the praise, and Gwen rolled her eyes so far up into her head that if she'd gone any farther they would've gone into her skull. Octavian rubbed his chin for a moment.
"Well there aren't many things powerful enough to really capture the Archangels, and one is their pappy. I mean, I guess the Princes of Hell could take down one if they teamed up and really tried, but never all of the Archangels at once." Jason tensed at the mention of the Princes of Hell, and Piper put a reassuring hand on his arm. "Well, if all of the other angels ganged up on them then I suppose they could take them hostage, but people would notice a huge chunk of Heaven's ranks going AWOL. That really leaves only one more option…oh no." The demon looked about to faint as the realization dawned on him, and all of the assembled people murmured nervously amongst themselves.
"Who is the other one….?" Jason's voice trailed off, and the blond seemed as if he were going to bolt, tense all over as he chewed on the inside of his cheek.
"This can't be good," Percy murmured through the headpiece, having been listening in on the whole thing.
A pause, and Octavian looked as if he'd be struck by lightning if he said the name aloud, gazing around warily as if they were being listened in on. There were only three other people in the area, and all were incredibly, incredibly drunk. After he deemed the place safe, the demon leaned in, and everyone else leaned in with him.
"Lucifer," he whispered. Thunder rumbled outside.
-Ω-
At first there was only silence. And nothing. One would assume that before the Creator, which ever one they choose to believe in, it was just a huge expanse of roiling darkness as far as the eye could see, consuming the entirety of existence in a suffocating blanket of black. They are wrong, however, because if there was "nothing", there technically wouldn't be any black, either. No colors whatsoever, in fact, not to mention life or other matter. If anything the Beginning would've been a stark white, for instead of black, which is actually all of the colors mixed together, it is simply an absence of color altogether. And that was what it was, according to the Creator. Just whiteness, like an empty canvas waiting to be used to create a masterpiece.
No one truly knows how the Creator originally came to be, not even I, and humans debate whether He is God or a multitude of gods, but whichever way, He sort of…appeared. One moment there was nothing and the next He was there. One can never be sure of the true extent of the Creator's abilities, whether you believe in one, or many, or possibly none at all, and there are many paradoxes based on this reasoning. Only a select few, none of them who roam a human plane of reality, have ever laid eyes on Him, though of those select few I am one of them. He wishes to archive the events of this Beginning, and I am to scribe His every Word.
The Beginning, of course, was extraordinary beyond comparison. Almost immediately after He got his bearings of the situation, the Creator, well, created the entirety of the universe. Most humans, being the self-centered anomalies that they are, suppose that the Creator made them first, but that is far from the case. In fact, there is a whole history before the humans and Earth were even considered. First He made Heaven, which unless this tablet has fallen into the wrong hands, should be familiar to the reader. In fact, he made seven of them, and one can infer that this is why He stopped on the seventh day when creating the world. The descriptions of the Seven Heavens will be documented on another tablet, perhaps, for it would simply make things too cluttered for the willing soul or angel who wishes to seek out this knowledge.
Heaven itself consists of endless, cloudy plains that span for as long as the universe is large, which of course makes it difficult to navigate. Luckily, along with Heaven came countless cities, most of which reside in the First and Third Heavens. The Capitol, the city surrounding His palace, is by far the biggest, and all of the cities and towns on Earth combines wouldn't equal even a smidgeon of its immensity. From there He created the angels. We are to serve His will and sing his praise, as well as assist Him with His duties, and eventually once He created humans we in turn also stood watch over them and their activities, even serving as messengers of His Word. We are easier to behold, yet are still in every way divine, and can contain our true forms much more easily; if God showed Himself, the poor creature whom he was attempting to communicate with would most likely explode on every plane of reality in existence, not to mention dispersing into particles so tiny that even He would have difficulty putting them back together again. His voice also has the same effect, which is rather unfortunate.
The first of all the angels were the Seraphim, who are but the only types of angels that have ever gazed upon the Creator, excluding myself, and they reside in His palace and sing praises to Him in billions of languages, most not even native to Earth. They are important in many, many ways, but they never leave His palace and therefore do not play much of a part in the history of the universe, however their song tells us when trouble is near. When it turns sour, their notes turning sharp and dangerous, wars on Earth tend to erupt like ferocious volcanoes; large massacres that slaughter hundreds of thousands of people. By far their worst song came when World War II began, costing the highest human death toll around the world. (For more information see The Seraphim Tablet)
Cherubim followed, overseeing all of the important academics, such as mathematics, astronomy, history, and other things of the like. They, too, are very odd-looking, however their torsos were the inspiration for that of the human male; it wasn't like He just thought humans up and built on the subject. No, He had inspiration from Cherubim, since angels at the time didn't have human forms since humans hadn't even been invented yet. They, along with Thrones and Seraphim, don't interfere with humans much at all except for influence them; they never make interaction whatsoever.
The next angels, though, will forever affect the balance of God's creation. He spent many nights working on his next design. Seven to be exact, since for your information He has a way of making sure things are constant and organized. He labored over it, tweaking and assembling and disassembling it all over again. Finally, when He was done, He told his masterpiece, "You are my son, and I am your Father. You shall be called Michael."
Michael was the first angel, or at least the first angel with the ability to change to a human form. He was always viewed as the most handsome, with an incredible moral compass and loyal to a fault. He resided in his palace, taking up the role of Heaven's leader. He was like the President of the United States only with millions of times more power; he was commander-in-chief, chief executive, and chief citizen (all of that other stuff had yet to be invented. Despite this, Michael was actually inconsequential at first. Even though he was the eldest brother and led Heaven with a steady hand, he was merely viewed by his brothers as the annoying, loud-mouthed older sibling that was always telling everyone what to do, though he and Gabriel got along quite well. He had no specific job whatsoever aside from leading, and he played little part in the years leading up to the Fall.
Next came Azrael, the second-oldest Archangel. One would be astounded when I told them that at first he was unimportant, merely a brother to offer his advice and to take control for short periods of time. He didn't like doing so, however, for he wasn't really created for that purpose. God, being all-knowing, had predicted Adam and Eve's picking and eating of the apple from the Tree of Knowledge, and had made Azrael to help dish out the consequences. When they picked that apple, death and mortality were introduced to the world, and it was, is, his job to pick up the souls of the humans that were expiring and bring them to Heaven. Now, if Azrael ever disappeared for some reason, the very basic material of the world would disintegrate, for now most know him as the Angel of Death.
After came Raphael, the pleasant Healer and lover of all things wildlife. Sure, he was incredible with a spear, but it would be against his nature to harm even the smallest of flies. He introduced medicine and other forms of healing, the first doctor, and is the calm voice of reason amongst the chaos. Some even refer to him as their "conscience", and that's because Raphael, who was also an inventor, assisted God in developing the first human, and in doing so infused a part of himself with their mortal soul. He also watches over fertility, and is at the birth of every human that will play a large role in history. Every leader of every country, every war hero, every successful author, and every astounding scientist have had a birth overseen by Raphael to make sure that they aren't lost; if that happened, then the course of history would change dramatically and perhaps it would call of the Apocalypse. (See The Apocalypse tablet for more information). He personally inserts the soul into them. Children who are miscarried or are stillborn do not yet have souls, so there is no threat of the soul inside being lost, however a soul who was meant to be given to a miscarried or stillborn child is blessed to have good luck when they are inserted into another.
Uriel is one of the feistiest Archangels and is viewed widely as a celebrity. He is ruggedly handsome and is the macho police officer of Heaven. He asked Michael to be the leader of Heaven's armies but was denied, considering his boiling temper and his tendency to jump to conclusions. He had to settle for being the dealer of punishment in Heaven and had rule over fire, which would become a major tool used by humans that would cause their rise in technology. If angels became wayward, they were cast out of Heaven by Uriel, who was way too entertained when he dealt justice and ripped out their wings.
Gabriel came second-to-last. He was quite the handful, Gabriel, like a hurricane had obtained angelic form and was now whipping around Heaven breaking things. Trust me, I have had to deal with Gabriel before and know that his hyperactivity is quite unpleasant. He was possibly the first ever being to have ADHD, and in order to put his endless energy to good use he was made the messenger of God and of Michael. It wasn't surprising, though, that his meeting with Mary was quite less ceremonious as humans make it out to be, ultimately resulting in a few choice words that wouldn't be invented in another two thousand years, an example being, I quote, "Yo, girl, you're preggers!" Needless to say that Mary was confused. Azrael, Michael, Uriel, and Raphael were quite content with their current arrangement, since Gabriel was already a handful, but then God created one last Archangel, who He named Lucifer.
Most view Lucifer as the devil, with skin the color of blood and twisted, deformed features, but in reality he was everything that they could ever dream of. He was the final innovation of the Archangel, the Morning Star, and he was almost as glorious as God Himself. Perhaps, though He will not say, Lucifer was God's pride and joy, for he was perfect in every way, shape, and form, since He had tweaked and adjusted the original design of the Archangel to create a newer, better version. Lucifer was as masculine handsome as he was feminine beautiful, and he had two, pure-white wings sprouting from his back. Lucifer immediately took up the position as the leader of Heaven's armies, by his Father's command (so Michael couldn't deny him like he'd denied Uriel), though it was also partly due to the fact that the other angels that were already there didn't quite appreciate the idea of warfare, too consumed in their own work to pay much attention to that. He left Michael just going over the politics, and the eldest Archangel found himself with little to no control over anything, unlike his brothers.
Little did the angels know, however, that things were about to take a turn for the worst, because Lucifer, in his glory and beauty and fame, developed one weakness, a weakness that, despite its insignificance at the time, would end Heaven as they knew it. It all began when whispers began to pass through the Heavens, weaving their way into the ears of eager angels and circling overhead like vultures. They claimed that God wasn't really all-powerful, that he was controlling them for no reason but to feel stronger, and everyone was aware that the rumors were there. Even so, what they didn't realize was that Lucifer was the one who'd begun to spread them. Those who did find out joined Lucifer as his followers, turning to him rather than the Creator.
Pretty soon, one third of all angels had turned to Lucifer. The other Archangels, fearing for their safety, confronted him about the matter, but it ended in disaster. Lucifer disappeared into hiding, along with his followers, and for five years there was a tense standstill, the tension building as neither Lucifer nor the other angels showed their faces. In that time, the angels that were still loyal prepared for war, but there was a problem. Uriel was too hot-headed to be a steady general, and Raphael was a pacifist (in fact he was the one that invoked pacifism within Christians). Azrael had other duties to tend to despite not being the Angel of Death, and that left Michael. The eldest Archangel was thrust into the position as commander of Heaven's army after millennia of allowing Lucifer to do it, and no sooner did that happen did Lucifer attack.
There was chaos. Angels against angels, unsure of who was loyal and who was not, brother against brother in an earth-shaking battle. Heaven's towers crumbled, swathes of angels were killed, and yet the battle raged for nearly a century. At times it seemed like Lucifer would win, and that only made more angels turn their backs on the inexperienced general and his armies, pretty soon it was evenly matched, with the death toll on Michael's side mounting and the numbers of Lucifer's troops rising steadily. One fateful battle determined it all. I was there, and I was stationed on the outskirts of the Capitol in case any of Lucifer's minions managed to bleed past the main lines, which in some cases they did.
Lucifer was pressing and pressing forwards, trying to make it towards Heaven's capitol, and his hordes of soldiers consumed most of the front lines. In the form of a six-headed dragon, the Morning Star blowtorched everything that was in his path, along with Leviathan; a beautiful angel who'd been twisted into a huge serpent, eventually becoming the symbol of Lucifer's crusade. She is now known as Medusa. As Gabriel and Uriel attempted to help the foot soldiers, Raphael took on Leviathan, going against his morals for the sake of this one battle, and Michael, well he had to face his brother. Lightning flashed and fire rained from the sky, the ground littered with corpses and the air reeking of the blood of immortals. Finally, Michael ensnared Lucifer with a chain that was stronger than any in the universe, and, binding him tightly, cast both he and his rebels into the dark pit that awaited, created by God to keep the creatures away from the rest of creation. With a heavy heart he named it "Hell".
Lucifer now resides in Hell, but he is not alone. Along with his fallen angels, demons now serve him almost just as loyally, despite the fact that they weren't present in the War in Heaven. They are the mangled and twisted souls of the damned, and they are almost as powerful as the fallen angels, since they have one thing that the celestial beings don't; free will. They are able to make their own tactical maneuvers and use smooth, silky words, which are basically honey laced with poison, to get humans to sell their souls to them and increase their numbers. Lucifer's army is gathering itself again, and the chain, however strong, begins to wear down after millennia. Therefore, in the year 1987 A.D., it must be renewed by the order of God, or else it will continue to weaken until he is free. In that situation, expect him to arrive sometime in the year of 2016 A.D.
-The Beginning Tablet-
-Scribed by The Metatron-
- Re-scribed in the year 1986 A.D.-
-Ω-
Note: This is 1st person POV and in no way am I associating myself with these beliefs. I have researched it and am not attempting to impose my ideas on you.
(A/N) This incredibly late update was sponsored by writer's block and me being a lazy bum.
Disclaimer: Don't own PJO