Hi guys. I'm so sorry for the wait. Those of you who read my last author's note know how much I was struggling with this chapter. I still am not happy with it. Some of the things I included were not mentioned at all in the previous chapters, so it seems discontinuous and not cohesive at all. I decided to put it out anyway, because I've been mulling over it for at least a month now (since the first draft was already done in August), and nothing seems to be changing for the better.

Again, I'm sorry for the not-so-great chapter. I hope the next ones will be better.

Disclaimer: None of the characters mentioned below belong to me.

Percy

I'd like to say that things got better from there. That Chris and Ethan whisked us away and brought us to safety the day after they exposed themselves to me.

But nope. Apparently, the gods wanted me to suffer for much longer. My injuries only kept getting worse. My body fell into more and more pain. And being ADHD, I was growing increasingly impatient.

And sometimes, I would break into shivers, receding into my shell and struggling to climb back out. During those moments, my surroundings faded away. All noises faded away. I was left with nothing but my trembling body and a spiraling headache that sunk me deeper and deeper into the hole I was digging for myself. And every time, these spells lasted longer and longer, and they got harder and harder to come out of. In many of these spells, Gabe would occupy my thoughts, taunting me and beating me until I was unable to think for myself anymore.

I was going crazy for sure.

I sneezed into the crook of my elbow. Today was no different than every other day. I was aching with pain, nearly unable to move. Annabeth kept staring at me worriedly. Small Bob was dozing off in my armpit.

Sighing, I buried my face in my arms, ignoring the volts of pain that rocketed through my muscles. Our plights seemed endless. Eternal. Would Chris and Ethan ever get us out of this cell?

As if answering my question, footsteps rumbled across the floor. Two sets of boot-clad feet squealed to a halt in front of the bars. I weakly lifted my head. Two pairs of brown eyes stared back at me.

Was it really time?

"Percy, get up," one voice commanded. Ethan. The other one, likely Chris, launched himself at the lock of my cell, rapidly fiddling with the gears. Within seconds, he had the door wide open, and I was leaning heavily on Ethan.

Chris unlocked Annabeth and guided her out, but he muffled her thank you with his hand. We were still at risk of being caught. We had to stay as silent as possible.

Immediately, the three arranged into stealth formation. Ethan held me up as we slowly tiptoed through the halls. Chris scouted ahead while Annabeth monitored the back. Small Bob trailed close behind, paws padding against the cement floors.

A stab of fear pierced through my skin. If Chris and Ethan got caught… what would happen? Would they die? Would I die? Would Atlas end up winning this game?

I hated putting these selfless people at risk. If anyone should be busting their gut to help someone else, it should be me. I was responsible for Chris being shot at Thalassa. I was responsible for involving Ethan in something more dangerous than he had ever known. They weren't supposed to be the ones dragging me to safety through the winding halls of an abandoned warehouse.

But then again, if I had been the one saving them, I would have gotten lost as heck. I couldn't comprehend where we were going or what we were doing. All I knew was that Ethan was lugging me somewhere, turning left, right, and all over the place within the maze of my prison. I tried my best to walk on my own, but my legs were just about as firm as tentacles.

Our group turned a corner, and we ran straight into someone. Annabeth gasped.

Clouds of tan and black blended into each other as the man raised his hands towards me. As I stepped closer, one of those clouds sharpened into a face. A pair of eyes, burning bright green.

"Dad!" I slurred. Then I shut my mouth, realizing that we were on ninja stealth mode, not drunk lunatic mode.

Ethan gently released me, and I fell onto Poseidon. His chuckle reverberated through my body as he patted my waist. "It's okay. I've got you. You're okay."

He smelled like the ocean. His presence was warm and comforting. My chest felt heavy as tears prickled behind my eyes.

I nuzzled my head into his neck. "Dad."

Poseidon gave me one last squeeze. Then, he slipped a pocket-knife into my pocket. Annabeth's knife.

Poseidon covered my hand with his own. Then, he slung me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He was careful not to touch my wounded back. "We have to go before Atlas finds us."

Considering I had a great view of my father's waistline, I couldn't tell what the others' reactions were. I assumed it was agreement, since they all started speed-walking forward.

They moved in silence, Poseidon now assuming Ethan's former place at the center of the formation. It took me a while before I realized it was to protect me.

A couple seconds later, Poseidon squeezed my thigh. "We're almost there. Just one more turn."

A shiver ran through my skin as I grinned into my father's waistband. It hurt to smile, but I didn't care. This was it. We were almost there. Just one more minute, and we would all be free of this torment forever.

Suddenly, Ethan gasped. They all came to an abrupt stop. My face collided with Poseidon's belt.

Annabeth's voice was filled with malice. "Luke."

Luke? Like the Luke who had gotten her into the assassin business? The Luke who had likely given her the job of killing me?

A deep, velvety voice echoed, "Annabeth."

"What are you doing?" she questioned angrily.

Poseidon chose that moment to face me forward. The sight I came upon was incredibly jarring.

The exit was a hundred feet away from us, down a long, straight corridor. In between us and the exit, however, stood an enormous group of guards - bodies stiff, rifles armed, expressions absent. At the tip of the formation was a tall, middle-aged man. His hair was sandy blonde, blue eyes harboring an icy glare that pierced a hole in my chest. A long, white scar etched a jagged line from his eye to the corner of his lip. His thin lips were set in a scowl, and his arms were crossed.

Luke's arms fell to his sides. "I'm getting you out of here."

Annabeth snarled in response. "What are you saying?"

"Atlas knew about your plan. It was destined to fail. Annabeth, come with me. Let Atlas take care of the others. You have nothing to do with them."

"You would be wise to listen to him, my dear." My father's old business partner stepped into the scene. Anger flared in my chest. "Luke has been… instrumental in helping me figure out your plan. In return, he bartered for one thing: for Annabeth to come out unharmed. A very smart move on his part."

Annabeth's breath hitched. Realization filled her voice. "That's why Atlas didn't hurt me."

Luke visibly relaxed. "Yes. Now come with me. You'll be safe with me."

Annabeth stepped away, eyes narrowed. "No."

Luke closed the distance between them, firmly grabbing her arm. "Please."

Annabeth shook him off. "No."

He reached for her again, but she sidestepped and grabbed his wrist, twisting his arm behind his back. The soldiers behind him took a step forward, but Atlas held them back with a flick of his arm.

Luke threw Annabeth to the side and freed his hand in one swift movement. Small Bob mewed and ran away.

Bile rose up in my throat. How dare he touch her? How dare he try to harm my Annabeth?

I shoved Poseidon away as I yelled, "Don't touch her!" Frantically, I tumbled to where Annabeth lay disoriented and stood firmly in front of her. It took all of my effort to keep my legs from giving out.

Ice-cold eyes flashed at me. Luke scoffed. "And what will you do to stop me, rich boy?"

I felt a presence behind me. I sniffed as Annabeth stepped in front of me and my father grabbed ahold of me once again. "Stop it, Luke."

He growled, "Don't be a fool, Annabeth. I've helped you for years, now. I've given you a living. I've taught you so much. I've risked my life for you, not just once, but multiple times! What do these people mean to you? What have they ever done for you?"

"More than you have." Annabeth's eyes brimmed with tears. "They've given me hope. All you've ever done is tear it down. All those times you told me that killing would help my situation, you weren't advising me. You were manipulating me. Molding me into what you thought would be profitable. I became a corporate weapon. I no longer felt human."

Luke spat, "Stop it! Are you hearing yourself? What could I possibly have to gain from asking you kill people?"

"Money. Power. The removal of obstacles."

"No! Never! Was killing Fan Zhi's murderer any of those things?"

Annabeth tightened her fists. "It was bribery. To get me into the business in the first place. You didn't give a shit about me or my situation. You just wanted a servant to respond to your every whim."

Luke looked beyond pained. "Annabeth, no. I cared about you. I care about you still. You're like a little sister to me. Just trust me. I want to help you."

Annabeth settled into a fighting stance. "You didn't help me, Luke. You brought me down. Now I've got to pick myself back up."

Behind me, Chris and Ethan drew their guns. Poseidon did the same.

Atlas clapped. "Well, that was dramatic. Definitely film-worthy. Let's give them a standing ovation!"

Turns out, a standing ovation meant attacking. The moment the mini-army took a step forward, Chris and Ethan started shooting. Poseidon gave Annabeth his gun and pulled me into an adjacent hall.

"Stop them!" Atlas roared.

Suddenly, a rumbling sound thundered through the building. Two more squads emerged from the shadows on either side, guns pointing straight at us. We were surrounded.

Poseidon yelled, "There's too many!"

He tried to race back the way we came, but another set of guards was already waiting there, ready to shoot. My heart sunk. A series of shivers erupted in my body. My vision started to blur.

A gun clattered to the ground. Two. Chris and Ethan raised their arms in surrender.

Annabeth was panting heavily. She was the only one still carrying a weapon.

Except for me.

But then again, what would a tiny pocket-knife do against an army? What hope was left anymore?

I pressed myself into Poseidon to support myself. My hands started to quake. Cursing, I tightened them into fists. I wasn't going to fall under the spell. I had to stop it. Please, please, please...

"Annabeth, put it down. You're overpowered." Luke demanded.

She visibly gulped. Her fingers released the gun. It clattered to the floor.

I started panting. My hands tingled with a foreign sensation. I felt myself slowly losing jurisdiction over my body.

It would never stop. It would keep coming, It would keep coming, again and again, and he would beat the crap out of me in the midst of my stupor, maybe even kill me this time. How long would it take for me to get out of this one?

Poseidon's grip on me tightened as Annabeth raised her arms in surrender. Even with my clouded vision, I could see her fingers trembling.

Luke exhaled. "Good. Now come here. You'll be safe with me."

"Nuh, uh." Atlas wagged his finger. "She's coming with us."

Luke gaped. "You promised- "

Atlas remarked, "My promise has been fulfilled. She hasn't been harmed. But Annabeth is a fine young lady. I can get paid a lot more if I sell her to the right person."

Annabeth's eyes widened. She reached for her gun. "You-"

Two guards rushed towards her. One of them grasped her arms and pushed them together, while another cuffed her.

Suddenly, Poseidon was torn from my grip. He called out my name, but my wobbly legs dragged me to the ground. My knees hit the floor with a sickening thud.

Pairs of arms pulled me up as cool metal dug into my wrists. Shudders cascaded down my body as my mind began to shut down. The beatings and the cuts and the bruises. It was all happening again. And it would happen again and again and again and again and it was never going to end.

They took us back to the throne room. Atlas eased himself onto his throne while his guards tied us to rings in the wall. A grand portion of the army left soon after. Only a couple guards were left.

Atlas brushed himself off and seated himself on the throne, a smirk on his blurred, ugly face. But all I could see were Gabe's cold, unforgiving umber eyes. "Finally. My plan worked. Nice to see you again, Poseidon."

I shook my head vigorously, trying to break myself out of my daze. Everything sounded like I was underwater.

My father scowled. "I can't say the same, Atlas."

Atlas clicked his tongue. "For good reason too. I can finally kill you with my own hands. I must cherish this moment."

The room descended into silence as Atlas commanded his guards to bring him 'his favorite gun.' It didn't take a genius to understand why.

But I couldn't let it happen. I had to distract him before he killed my father.

I fought the black threatening to overtake my vision as I grunted, "If you were just going to kill Poseidon, why did you send Thorn? Or Kelli, or Tammi, for that matter? What was buying up land going to do for you?"

Atlas filed his fingernails. "Thorn, Kelli, Tammi, all of them had one thing in common. Foresight. They put their futures ahead of their morals. They were wise in that sense."

"That doesn't answer my question," I forced my voice out of my blocked-up throat.

"Do I need to answer your question?" Atlas leaned forward. "I tried to do it peacefully. I tried to stay away from any legal trouble. But every single time, I was thwarted. Now, I will finally have the chance to kill you. I will finally get the land I want."

Beside me, Poseidon gasped, "You were going to destroy the evidence!"

Atlas seemed alarmed, "What?"

My father laughed mirthlessly. "I get it. You wanted to search those plots of land for the wreckage of the ship without drawing any attention! You bastard."

"And is there something wrong with that? Is there something wrong with trying to do things the right way?" Atlas roared.

"The 'right' way isn't right anymore when you use wrong methods to pursue it."

Atlas pointed his finger at Poseidon. "I don't need you lecturing me, shithead. Show some respect to your elders."

Atlas and Poseidon kept firing at each other, words spitting venom again and again and again. Their voices kept batting at my head with a club. Throwing it from side to side, each blow doling an extra dose of pain to my body. I took a shaky breath. Don't fall in. Don't fall in. I could do this.

Too late. Surroundings were already fading. Gabe's menacing laughter, stinging my mind. Weakling. Bastard. Lunatic.

Drowning in his words. Drowning in their voices. No water. Mud. Suffocating sludge in my throat. Choking, choking…

Her voice. Soft and sweet. Nothing more than a whisper. A rope. Percy.

Percy, pull through.

Annabeth?

I grabbed onto the rope. My vision went from black to grey. Her eyes. The color of her eyes.

Percy, please. You're going to be okay. Please be okay.

"Please be okay." Blurs of skin and clothes traversed across my vision. One central figure stood right before me, screaming at someone beside me. My head was throbbing.

"Percy?" It was her. Not an illusion. She was whispering, trying not to get caught by the guards surrounding us, but she was frantic.

"An- beth." My throat felt scratchy. The edges of her body and her face began to reveal themselves.

Relief blanketed her eyes. She turned away.

What was going on?

They were still arguing. Atlas' attention was solely focused on Poseidon. Not only that, but the guards were watching the two like a tennis match, completely ignoring me.

How long had I even been out?

Not long. Nobody seemed to have noticed my episode except for Annabeth.

I moved an arm slightly. It was no longer quaking. I seemed to have control over my body again. I glanced up at the people surrounding me. Nobody reacted.

Ok, good. I could move without people noticing. What good would that do?

Wait a second.

Ignoring a spike of pain, I peeked over my shoulder at my binds. They were rope. Those stupid idiots had taken off my handcuffs and left nothing but rope to keep me tied to the ring.

And the knife...

Quickly, I slid Annabeth's knife out of my pocket and hid it behind my back. My breath escaped me in short bursts. Nobody reacted.

I took a brief glance at the ropes behind me and started sawing. The action was soundless, yet I pressed myself against the wooden slab, nervous that somebody would see it.

Somebody did see it. Annabeth.

She raised her eyebrows at me, eyes widening. Then, she quickly looked away. She didn't want to bring attention me.

"This is pointless! I am done arguing with you!" Atlas yelled. He snatched his gun from a guard's hands as I started working on the other hand. "Prepare to die."

Slowly, tantalizingly, he turned off the safety and aimed the gun at Poseidon's head. His lip quivered.

The ropes behind me snapped. Like a riptide, I slipped the knife into Annabeth's hands and whirled around, tackling Atlas. The gun went off as he screamed, and a bullet buried itself in the ceiling.

"Guards!" Atlas cried.

By the time Atlas threw me off of him, Annabeth was free. She handed the knife to Ethan and ran into the growing group of men, attacking them with her bare hands. Within seconds, Ethan had joined her and Chris was sawing at his cords.

Atlas scrambled for his gun, which had skittered to the other side of the room.

"No!" I yelled. I struggled to push myself up.

But Small Bob beat me to it. He came out of nowhere, yowling ferociously, and lunged at Atlas. Scratches streaked down Atlas's arm as he screamed in pain.

Flames of anger lit his eyes as he swatted the cat away. He marched towards the gun. Alarmed, I crawled after him. I grabbed his ankle, but he kicked my face.

"Percy!" Annabeth's cry ricocheted off the walls.

My grip on Atlas's ankle grew tighter as he tried to shake me off. In the end, he gave up and grabbed me by the neck. His iron grip sucked the air from my throat.

"You," he spat. "Get out of my sight, or I'll kill you."

He launched me from his arms, landing me with a crack at the foot of Atlas's throne. A searing pain burned through my back. I let out a muffled groan.

Atlas wrapped his fingers around the gun. Expression determined and eyes filled with a ruthless fire, he aimed it at my father, who was busy fighting off Atlas's army with the rest of my friends.

"No," I rasped. But nobody heard me. I could only watch helplessly as Atlas pulled the trigger.

The bullet burst out of the gun in slo-mo, flying closer and closer to my father until -

It collided with a silver arrow?

Crunch. Another arrow sprouted from the muzzle of Atlas's gun, cleaving it in two.

A girl with electric blue eyes and short black hair stood at the entrance to the hall, feet apart, bow aimed at Atlas.

My cousin. Thalia.

I gaped. The last time I had seen her was years ago. How did she know to come here? How did she even know what was happening?

"Thalia!" Annabeth exclaimed. They… they knew each other?

Thalia's mouth lifted into a smile, but her glare was focused on Atlas.

From her lips escaped one soft word. "Attack."

A majestic battle cry emerged from the halls as crowds of women raced into the scene. The floor rumbled as they stormed the building, parkas ruffling in the breeze. They shot arrows, fired guns, and attacked Atlas's newly-called backup guards from all directions. Thalia herself was wasting multiple guys at a time, her muscles rippling. I stared in awe.

Along with the women, my own friends were fighting for their lives. Chris and Ethan were shooting wildly, having taken weapons from fallen guards. Annabeth was using her Fan Zhi skills, busting move after move and knocking out baddies. My own father was wrestling guards to the ground. Luke, having realized Annabeth was going to get hurt either way, was battling Atlas's cronies at knifepoint.

My gaze flitted back to Atlas, who was running towards a door in the back of the room.

Shoot. He was escaping.

With a loud moan, I pushed myself up and stumbled after him. My stupid, beat-up legs made me fifty times slower than I should have been.

Atlas typed in a code on a keypad and shoved open the door. He entered a room that seemed to be an office. I limped after him.

And almost crashed into him. Atlas came to an abrupt stop once he saw who was inside.

Caramel hair. Dark almond eyes. Fair, cream-colored skin.

Was it really?

Calypso.

She held a gun in her hands. Her arms were crossed.

The moment she saw Atlas, she ordered, "Don't move." Her gun raised to point at his chest.

Behind me, a guard yelled and swung his knife. Calypso adjusted her gun and shot at my attacker.

Calypso attempted to reload, but Atlas lunged towards her. He wrenched the gun out of her hand.

"No!" I screamed. My hand latched onto Atlas's arm. I threw my foot at his midsection.

"Oof," he strained. The gun clattered to the floor. Turns out I managed to kick lower than his stomach.

A smile flickered across Calypso's face as I picked the gun up off the floor. Within seconds, I had aimed at Atlas and Calypso had whisked out a phone.

"You move, and I shoot," I firmly stated. I didn't know where I got the courage to say that. My legs were quaking, my fingers were vibrating, and I had never killed a man in my life.

Atlas seemed to be reading my mind. "You're bluffing. You can't do it."

He was right. I couldn't do it. There was no way in hell that I was going to kill someone, even if that someone had tortured me to the bone and killed hundreds of men in return. I was not going to have blood on my hands.

My hand started shaking. An image of my stepfather's sneering face danced across my mind.

No. No no no. Not again. Not now. Please not now.

Atlas's mouth stretched wide in a smile. He knew I couldn't do it. He knew I wouldn't. I was too scared, too cowardly to even consider it. I was going to prove him right.

I squeezed my eyes shut. I was desperate. Atlas had to be defeated, and I couldn't let Calypso do it alone. I couldn't let myself fall under that trance again.

The last time, Annabeth's voice had somehow drawn me from it. Would it work now?

What would Annabeth do? She had experience in this field. What would she say?

With a triumphant roar, Atlas launched himself off his feet and raced towards me.

Annabeth wouldn't kill him either. She wasn't a mindless murderer. But she would show him who was boss. She would never express her fear, instead donning a mask of confidence and power. Her enemies would never see a glimpse of the kind, loving person she really was.

So I swallowed down my fear and spread my feet apart. I held my hand tight, preventing the shivers from coming. And I pulled the trigger.

The bullet flew exactly where I wanted it to. Grazing the corner of his suit, but not entirely harming him. Along with the metal cylinder rode a chunk of his white dress shirt. It embedded itself in the wall right behind him.

Atlas yelped in alarm. His eyes were wide as he stuttered, "You… you…"

"Confess to your crime," Calypso interrupted. "Confess that you were the one who drowned Kronos." Her phone was on video mode.

Atlas shouted, "Why should I? I didn't do it!"

"Don't lie to me," I said, refusing to allow a hint of doubt in my voice. Feign confidence. Prove to him that he made a mistake in kidnapping you. You're not going to be Gabe or the shell that he left you as. "You almost killed my father."

My heart pounded against my chest as I shot the gun again, this time at his feet. The bullet buried itself an inch from his right loafer.

I puffed my chest outward and reloaded the gun. Shoulders straight? Check. Jaw clenched? Check. Eyes ablaze with fire? A million times, check.

And for the first time, I saw fear in his expression. His stone-cold eyes were wide. His lip was trembling. His expression was one of anger and apprehension. He seemed to have fallen under my act.

"Not so brave now that you don't have a guard's protection, are you?" Calypso taunted.

"I don't need protection," Atlas sputtered.

"Oh really? All your life, Father, you had the power, the influence, to do whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted. But now that you're alone and helpless, you don't know what to do, do you? You're scared now, aren't you?"

"I'm not scared! I know perfectly well what to do. I'm going to kill you for what you've done to me."

"Just like you killed Kronos and hundreds of other businessmen?"

"They deserved it!" Atlas screamed. "Kronos cheated me out of so many things. He treated me like an indentured servant, a slave. I ran his companies, all alone, while he was off, catering to his whimsical needs, burning money like it grew on trees. In fact, he almost ran his companies bankrupt, but I saved them. Again, and again, and again.

"In the end, I decided that I couldn't live like that anymore. I couldn't continue working my ass off for something that I would never be given credit or compensated for. I took his companies by force, including Poseidon's, because that was my due. That was what I deserved. In fact, I deserved more than what I got!

"But once I found out your father was alive, I realized that everything I had worked so hard to gain would be lost if he blabbed a word to the feds. He had to get out of the picture. And if the authorities somehow stumbled across the cruise ship's wreckage, I would be ruined once again. I had to erase all forms of evidence. I tried for years to do it legally, but I was unable to. Don't you understand? Wouldn't you do anything to get what you deserved?"

Calypso ended the video.

I replied, barely controlling my rage. "Atlas, you're not the one who decides what you deserve. That's up to the gods. And as I told you before, you are NOT a god."

Atlas's eyes narrowed dangerously, and he yelled in anguish. He stormed towards me, fury dictating his every move. His skin was nearly firetruck red.

He was coming toward me. I couldn't shoot him. I couldn't kill him. Heck, even beating him up would make me Gabe.

Annabeth's voice echoed in my ears. You won't become Gabe. You're so much better than him. Gabe did it to hurt you. You're doing it to survive.

She was right.

Gulping, I bent my knees, ready to fight with my hands. To only deal the least amount of damage to still save my friends.

Before I could react, Calypso yanked the gun from my grip and shot him in the thigh.

Atlas roared in pain. He collapsed to the floor, screaming bloody murder.

"You make another move, you die," Calypso said.

Atlas gurgled incomprehensibly, his hands clutched around his leg. He kept squeezing, trying to get the bullet out, but to no avail.

Calypso looked back at me. "Go. Help them. I've got this handled."

Obliging, I grabbed a knife from Atlas's desk and stumbled to the door, intent on combating Atlas's remaining army. Again, only for survival. To save your friends.

Suddenly, from the main room, I heard a loud voice yell, "Freeze! Hands up! This is the FBI! Put your hands up!"

The… the FBI?

The FBI.

A wave of relief overcame me as I collapsed to the floor.

It was done.

Thank you for sticking with me through this chapter. I know the mentioned attacks came in completely out of the blue, as did the memory of Gabe. I wanted to add some sort of internal conflict to the action, but it was too late to modify the previous chapters.

I also feel like I had problems with pacing and completely transferring the intended emotional effect. If you guys have any pointers for the future on how I could have fixed these things, feel free to let me know.

By the way, about the attacks, I intended to make them a sort of panic attack induced by pain and past trauma and stuff, but I, fortunately, have never experienced one of such a sort, so I apologize for all of the inaccuracies. Percy's experiences in this chapter are purely fictional.

The upcoming chapters are less action and more Percabeth, now that the climax is over. I'm actually really happy with the last chapter (23). I can't wait for you guys to read it!