Genre: Romance/Adventure
Rated: T
Summary: Percy left Camp Half-Blood because the new camper whom he had helped made his life at camp miserable. Unsure of where to go, he finally accepted the Powerful Guy in Black's offer to go to this place called 'The City of Protogenoi', without knowing that his whole new life had already begun the day he said 'yes' to the guy!
Setting: 3 months after The Last Olympian. Heroes of Olympus never happened.
Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson and the Olympians. Everything belongs to Rick Riordan.
Chapter20: The Inventor
Announcement
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Thanks for your enthusiasm, guys!
20
The Inventor
Percy had no idea how it happened, but it did anyway.
He had been about to release the air ball from his palm when a set of images struck him. They came into his mind suddenly, unexpectedly. And they were terrible. He saw himself standing alone at the edge of a big gap that used to be a bridge, grieving for Michael Yew; he saw the Princess Andromeda blow up before his eyes, his friend Charles Beckendorf stuck in there; he saw the burnt face of Silena Beauregard as she lay on the ground, dying; he saw Ethan Nakamura's painful face as he told him his last wish, disappearing into the hole on the ground; he saw Luke Castellan's face as he made him promise to change the way the gods treated their demigod children, his expression sad and regretful; he saw himself killing hundreds of soldiers in the Xerxes planet, not even knowing who they were, just killing to survive; he saw the faces of the criminals he had just killed, their corpses lying in heaps beside him; and a lot more bloody scenes he had witnessed…
Percy wanted to scream and run away. But he couldn't.
It was as if he was trapped inside his own mind, forced to watch these scenes over and over. He wished he could scream for help, but his body was frozen with fear—and guilt. How many people had died by his hands? How many people had he killed? How many times had he failed to protect them?
You are a failure. You do not deserve to be in this place, a voice spoke to him in his mind. He could not recognize who it was. It sounded ancient and powerful. And when it spoke, the images flashed before his eyes even faster.
No. Stop. Don't do this, he told the voice. He meant it to be a shout, but it came out as a quivering whisper, powerless and insignificant. The voice boomed even more.
You are incompetent. You could not keep your promises. You are a liar, Perseus Jackson. You do not deserve to wield this great power! It thundered.
Stop! I get it already! Please just stop, stop, STOP! Someone help me! Percy writhed in his mind, screaming in agony. He wondered when this torture would end. Maybe later, or maybe never. The images clogged his mind. The only thing he knew was that he was going to lose his sanity soon if this continued. HELP!
"Percy…" Someone called in a small voice, but he could hear it, even from afar. Who was it? Someone with a really sweet voice, the voice of a singer.
He remembered he liked that voice.
He remembered the voice giving him lecture. He remembered its owner cheering him up when he felt down…
He remembered those midnight-blue eyes, which he thought were one of the most beautiful gems he had ever seen. He remembered her long black hair flowing in the wind. He remembered her emotionless, yet pretty, face.
Vivian.
Immediately, his eyes snapped open and he whipped his head around to find her. And there she was, standing near the edge of the forest, looking at him with those exact same pair of eyes he was thinking about. Her face remained the same, but from being with her so much in the past week, he could detect concern in her eyes.
And she would not be able to imagine how relieved he felt when he saw her there. At least she helped him shake off those images and get back on his feet.
He calmed his nerves, and pushed off the ball. It descended to the roof of the plant, came into contact, and suddenly exploded in waves of air pressure that totally crushed the whole building.
KABOOOOOOOOM!
Despite himself, Percy grinned. "Mission accomplished."
Then he released the power he was using to stop the gravitational force acting upon him, and plunged down to the rubble. He twisted in midair and landed softly on one of the pieces of the broken roof, then slithered down to lean on it with exhaustion, breathing heavily. His hand went to his tummy, which felt like it was melting. He closed his eyes, trying to fight off the pain and tiredness.
His eyes burst open when he heard the sound of fighting. Vivian and Rosamund were back to battling the criminals again. They didn't seem to be sweating fighting the underdogs at all, so he could excuse his useless state.
Ah…I'm so tired. My eyes are so heavy, he thought. Maybe just a little would be fine. Just a little…Let me rest.
With that thought, the Chaos General drifted into a dreamless sleep.
"You're in denial, Rosa. Don't lie. I know you were impressed by the extent of his powers and his skills, not to mention his personality. You're just acting mean towards him because you don't want to admit that you respect him to a certain level—"
"That's—That's not it, Vivian! I do not respect that Shish Kebab Pervert! He is just an arrogant rookie who knows nothing about combat!"
"You know you look at your feet when you're lying. And let me guess, what you just said was the opposite of what you were thinking—"
"I was not lying!"
So noisy… That was his first thought when he came to. He heard two voices, one sweet and calm, the other loud and stuttering. He wondered who they were.
"You're not meeting my eyes."
"Jeez, Vivian! Just when we finally made up, why are we talking about that Shish Kebab Pervert when we should be talking about me and you?"
Oh…Shish Kebab Pervert, huh? Now I remember. There's only one person who calls me that in the universe. The Successor thought as he inwardly sighed. What a fancy name. Far worse than Seaweed Brain. Should he feel honored?
Just then he noticed that his head must be laid on a pillow. It felt so soft and warm. And…he sniffed. It smelled really fragrant. The smell gave off a feeling of mystery mixed with sweetness. He liked the scent. He stole other two breezes of the smell and spoke with his eyes closed.
"It's Senior Shish Kebab, for your information," Percy corrected. Then he opened his eyes to see Rosamund jump with surprise. And he looked up to see midnight-blue orbs in a really close range.
"How are you feeling, Percy?" Vivian inquired, looking down to see his bewildered face.
Now Percy realized why the pillow had felt warm and smelled so good. Silly him, where would the two girls find a comfy pillow in the middle of nowhere like this? His head was in fact resting on Vivian's lap!
He bolted upright, his ears bright red. He gestured at her lap. "Err, why was I…you know…"
Instead it was Rosamund who answered. "Because you were out cold by the time we finished them off. So Vivian was considerate enough to clear the wreckage around you and find you a comfortable place to rest."
The Erebus General nodded. "I thought the pain in your stomach would subside if you were in a comfortable position. But we didn't want to put your head on a hard rock, so I volunteered. Did you sleep well?"
Percy didn't reply. He couldn't meet her eyes. He felt so embarrassed he could feel his face burning. The only one who had ever offered their lap for him to sleep on was Annabeth, and she was his girlfriend. He didn't know much about Vivian's culture, or even where she came from. So he wasn't sure if this was considered just a friendly thing for her or not. But for him it sure was not. Only couples did that as far as he knew. Maybe in a park or on a sofa or whatever, he didn't care. He had slept on her lap. Not to mention, he sniffed her. Three times!
A pebble hit his head. Rosamund was the one who had thrown it. "Ow! What was that for?"
She was pouting, her face pink—with anger or something else, he wasn't sure. "Why the heck are you blushing? You're having impure thoughts, right? You really are a pervert, Shish Kebab Pervert!"
Percy shut his mouth, as she wasn't completely wrong. Vivian looked back and forth between the two in wonder. Obviously someone emotionally detached and lacking in common sense like her didn't quite understand what was going on. But her hand went up and touched the spot where he had been hit and rubbed it softly, as if trying to comfort him. "It's not bleeding, but it's bruised. Does it hurt?"
The Chaos General stiffened at her touch. He shook his head and stood up, coughing.
"A-Anyway, now the mission's completed. Can we go back and write a report now?"
Vivian rose, answering his question. "There are a few things we need to check before we do that. First let's clear the rubble and find out what's left. There might be some clues leading to where the inventor is."
"Well…Do you guys want me to lift all of these with my power? I guess I could do that—if I don't end up dead in the end, that is."
Rosamund shrugged, her lips twisting into a smile. "Good idea. I like that. Please overdo it."
"There's no need for that. You have done enough to help us, and we appreciate it. Thank you for offering, though." The Erebus General raised her hand up as she finished the sentence. He watched as their three shadows stretched into long, slim branches. The black branches wrapped themselves around the broken pieces of bricks and roof, and started whirling them into the woods.
"Nice," Percy whistled.
After a while all the debris was cleared. The three Generals started investigating all that remained. Now the machines had broken down, they could gather all the pieces together and figure out how they worked. They saw boxes containing all the ingredients, tucked into one corner of the factory. Miraculously, they hadn't gotten completely crushed by the roof.
"We should bring these plants back. I heard they're rare."
"Yes. And maybe Wilhelmina and Jayden can invent some antidote for this anti-Successor gas," Vivian agreed. She took out little plastic bags from her cloak and stuffed them inside.
"Hey, come here, you two." The Ananke General called, gesturing at a hole on the ground. The other two Generals walked towards the far end of the room where she was standing, and crouched down to take a good look.
Through the puncture, they saw a well-polished wooden hall of another floor—the basement. It was a dimly-lit narrow passage, large enough for only two people two pass through. The Successors looked at one another. Percy was the first one to speak.
"So…Anyone wants to go downstairs with me?"
"You scared of the dark, Shish?" The silver-haired girl raised an eyebrow, smirking.
The Chaos General smacked his head. "Don't shorten the term, dammit! It sounds so frigging much worse. Look, I'm fine with you calling me Shish Kebab Pervert, but—"
She snapped her fingers, flashing a smile at him for the first time—though it was an amused one. "Then that's settled! So you like the name, huh? You could have just told me so, don't have to hide it!"
She actually looks very pretty when she smiles. A shame everything she does is frown, he thought.
It was Vivian again who brought them back to the mission at hand. "Cut it out, you guys. Okay, so we're going down one by one, quietly. I'll go first." Then she stepped into the hole.
Rosamund and Percy followed. Being down here, they noticed old oil lamps hung on the wall every few meters. The lamps were old and neglected, as many of them had run out of oil and weren't lit, making the passageway darker. The ceiling was only inches above Percy's head. The walls were just as tattered, their color jaded. Only the wood floor seemed to be new.
"This way." Rosamund waved at them and went on ahead. Percy looked at her back skeptically.
"Might I remind you, she's from a family of assassins. She's been trained more than any of us in this field. No matter how complex the place is or how dark it is, she always finds her way out," Vivian explained.
"She's surprisingly useful." Percy shrugged. They followed Rosamund for what seemed like ten minutes in the dim light. It was a good thing Successors could see well in the darkness, otherwise he would have more or less freaked out by now. The place just gave off this really creepy feel. He didn't know what awaited them, but already he was having goose bumps.
Moments later they came across a mahogany door. The Successors made eye contact. When an understanding passed between them, the decision was made. Knock first. Perhaps if there was anyone inside, he might answer, thinking it was one of the criminals lying as heaps of dead meat above—that way at least the enemy would give himself away and they could just assault them when they came to open the door. With that decision made, Percy knocked.
Silence.
He looked at the girls. They nodded. He was about to knock again when the door just creaked open slowly on its own. The three Generals jumped back, their hands reaching for weapons, their expressions wild.
Nothing came out. Just a breeze of cold air, probably from the AC. After a moment of tense stillness, Rosamund made a hand sign for them to go in, mouthing 'No movement at all in the room.'
Of course they trusted her and stepped in willingly. The room was wide and spacious, despite its low ceiling. Shelves lined up along the walls, crammed with glass vials containing multi-colored liquids and jars with peculiar substances inside. Tucked into one corner of the room was a wooden desk filled with documents, wide-open textbooks and notebooks. Another corner had a little fridge, and right near it were blue curtains. He was sure there was a door behind those curtains. At the center of the room, tables were arranged messily. Some were in a row, some were placed together, some were upside down, some were alone—all of this just to accommodate all the huge pieces of equipment on them. These scientific experimental tools just looked so bizarre and otherworldly, or that was just the opinion of an Earthian. He had no idea if the two girls had seen these before or not.
He turned to ask them, but the two Generals had such grim expressions on. He raised his eyebrows, curious. "What's the matter?"
Rosamund sighed and walked to the desk. She picked up some of the documents and showed them to him. "You notice something in these?"
Percy shook his head slowly. "…No?"
"You're slow. Then how about this?" She brandished the cover of one of the notebooks at him.
"Oh, is that what you're trying to tell me? The emblem?"
"That's right." Vivian replied. She walked to the shelves and turned some of the vials around so he could see the printed symbol on each of them—Funny he hadn't noticed it at all before. The emblem they saw in many of the things in the room had the shape of a tree. It looked really similar to an oak tree, except its leaves were white and it had gold cone-shaped fruits.
"You know what the symbol represents?" He asked.
"Well…Sort of… Everyone does, to be frank. Oh, forgot. You're a country boy." Rosamund shrugged.
He ignored her remark and turned to Vivian instead. The Erebus General said nothing, and when she finally spoke, her voice dropped low. "It's the Hainsworth clan's family crest."
There was a pause. "Uh-huh. That sounds kinda familiar?"
The Ananke General rolled her eyes. "You didn't really pay attention to our introductions, did you, Shish Kebab Pervert?"
Percy just stared at her blankly.
"That's Theodora's clan." It was Vivian who gave him the answer.
His jaw dropped. "You're kidding! How…What the heck? Then why is her relative helping the agency?"
"That's a good question, why?" A new voice joined their conversation out of the blue. It came from behind the curtains. Startled, they all whipped their heads in that direction, raising weapons at the newcomer.
A slim figure appeared behind the curtains. He seemed to have come out of another room. He was an average height, sickly pale, and looked so weak and fragile it was a surprise he could be standing on his feet at all. The man seemed to be in his late twenties. He had the same features Percy remembered the Chronus General had: completely white hair and black eyes. The man walked slowly to the desk and sat down.
From his resemblance to Theodora, Percy could instantly guess that he was the inventor, who was from her clan—and seemed to be on the enemy's side.
A sweat rolled down his neck. Even though three deadly weapons were aimed at him, the inventor looked totally relaxed. The guy smiled and began in a casual voice.
"So…Where should we start, Successors?"
To be continued
KimJoysu's Notes: Merry Christmas! I updated today as tomorrow is a special occasion. So…Needless to say, this is a Christmas gift to all my lovely readers who have supported this story even though I am such a cliffhanger jerk (according to what most of you say in your reviews) and I take so long to update. Well, sorry—and thank you very much. I hope this chapter satisfied your thirst for romance at least a little, Percivian shippers :) I will be out of town until next Tuesday, so don't expect any miracle like me updating early for New Year's occasion to happen. But who knows. I'm paranoid, right? :P
P.S. Enjoy your holidays, guys. Love y'all!