Disclaimer: I don't own characters created by Rick Riordan. This is FanFiction, so I guess that goes without saying...

Vote on the poll on my profile page! I'd greatly appreciate it if you haven't already!

It's about the next story I will write.

Idea #1 is a depressing story which will be fairly short. Perhaps 50,000 words. It ventures into the idea of loneliness and isolation during a war. It leads to an un-happy ending.

Idea #2 is one I've already put up for a while. It's about the US splitting into two and Percy's a spy and he's given a choice to reunite the gods or destroy the enemy.

Idea #3 is probably the happiest. It's a Nico-centric story in which he's bisexual. I hope to delve into the issue of sexualism and bullying and isolationism in a school setting. The reason I'm making Nico bisexual instead of homosexual like he is portrayed in the Heroes of Olympus series is because there is a lack of continuity in Rick's books, and although it was an interesting twist and I can see why he made Nico as such, there were minor details that were overlooked, such as Nico blushing when Juniper got close to him in the Last Olympian, clearly showing he was embarrassed that she was close. I agree that could be interpreted different ways, but that is how I interpreted the passage. It's a happy ending, at least I want it to be, and although Nico is bisexual, because I am heterosexual, if Nico does end up with a partner in the end, it would most likely be a girl, simply because I can relate to it more.

21 – XXI

Annabeth was stupid.

She had said something so stupid in such a crucial moment.

I can't like someone who thinks killing innocent people is okay.

Why had she responded by calling him a hypocrite? Sure, it was true, but it was also mean and rude. He was definitely hurt by her words. She'd made so many mistakes, but by far, this was the worst one. She hadn't been lying. She'd fallen in love with him again, and it hurt so much to see him like that. Maybe their ideals were different, but he didn't have to get so worked up about it. They were threats to the government. She was only doing her job.

And it wasn't fair for Percy to say that it was Luke's fault. She saw his reasoning and knew that Luke had plenty of faults, but it just didn't seem right for him to blame Luke.

Still, she felt guilty about only having survived Y2K because of Luke. In a way, it was Luke that had brought her to meet Percy. If he hadn't saved her, she wouldn't have met Percy. How stupid was it of her to fall in love so easily? First with Luke all those years ago, and then Percy… twice.

She walked up to Zoë Nightshade, leader of the Hunters. Zoë had recently suffered a bout of dehydration and exhaustion. She'd collapsed on Halloween, but had recovered pretty well. Zoë noticed her approaching and waved quietly in greeting.

"Annabeth Chase," Zoë said.

"Hey, Zoë," Annabeth greeted back. "How are you doing?"

"I'm fine," Zoë said quietly. "I just need to rest a bit more. Reading is a good pastime to occupy oneself with. You should really read this book."

"Isn't that a mythology book?" Annabeth asked. "The Odyssey, am I right? I've read many books. That's the story about Odysseus. It's an adventure story, isn't it, with Odysseus facing the wrath of Poseidon and running into a variety of obstacles, such as Cyclopes and Sirens?"

Zoë nodded. "Have you read the Iliad?"

Annabeth nodded.

"Hm, I see. What's your least favorite myth, Annabeth?"

The daughter of Athena didn't even need to think. "Athena and Arachne. After all, my mother's pride caused arachnophobia to appear in her bloodline. Any spider within a hundred feet will come and find me as revenge for what my mother did to theirs. When I was really little, Thalia would always come to help me with spiders."

"And what is most intriguing?"

That question caught Annabeth off guard a little. "Hm… I'm not so sure. One thing I do find intriguing, though, is the fact that there were once monsters throughout the lands. What happened to all of them? Where did they go?"

Zoë sighed. "I see. That is a question I have been asking myself for a long time. Let me ask you something, Annabeth. Has Thalia told you much about my past? Do you know much about my past?"

Annabeth looked away guiltily. "I do know… some things…" She recounted all of what Thalia had told her.

"So everything Thalia knows about me, you know about me."

"Yeah."

"Well, I'll tell you one thing about me that I'm sure Thalia does not know," said the leader of the Hunters. "That sword I gave Percy Jackson, Anaklusmos, was found by me not mere months before I gave it to Percy. I'd never really specified when I found the sword, but I have to tell you… I would not have made it through the camps had it not been for that sword. I found it when I was seven. I had just run from home again, and Poseidon came to me at a beach. Yes, in full physical form."

Annabeth's jaw dropped.

"He looked like a regular man, which surprised me the most. The only difference was that he could control the ocean like it was nothing. Take the image of Percy and attach a beard to that face. That is essentially what Poseidon looked like. I was very, very young and very, very impressionable. I grew a crush on him. Of course, it passed quickly, but I believe that is why I hold a soft spot for Percy Jackson. He reminds me of his father. I kept the sword and used it until my graduation. Then Poseidon spoke to me again, this time telepathically and told me I needed to give the sword to his son. I found the kid in the camps. He was just twelve, but was already a high-ranking student. At a first glance, I knew he was Poseidon's kid. He had… and still has great potential as a warrior."

Annabeth's eyes widened. "You had a crush on Poseidon? But I thought that…"

Zoë smiled sadly. "I believe, Annabeth, that the only women who can truly hate men are the women who can love them too easily… who can love them too much… who do anything to keep their love…"

Annabeth felt that strike a chord inside her. She grimaced.

"The only women who can truly hate men are the women who are able to truly love a man with every fiber of her being."

Annabeth looked away. "Is that really how you feel?"

Zoë stared at her. Annabeth had developed a pretty good habit of concealing her emotions from her expression, but she had a feeling that Zoë could see right through it. "You would never think people like us exist," she said at last. "This whole emotions thing seems so unrealistic. But we can't change who we are. If we feel the way we do, it is real."

"I suppose so."

Zoë pressed her lips together. "You've read that book… The Things They Carried, right?"

She nodded.

"Remember how he exaggerates much of the stories, especially that chapter—"

"Mary Anne Bell," Annabeth recounted. "Yeah, I remember that. What does that have to do with what you just said?"

"It's just something I want you to think about."

Abruptly, Zoë got up and told her that she needed to do something with work. Annabeth excused herself and slowly made her way back to the guest room she was staying in temporarily as she continued her mission to scout Deu5 M0rti5 in State 5. Thalia was probably already in there. It was pretty late.

On her way, she passed by the balcony. The State 5 headquarters for the Kynigos—the Hunters of State 5—was now literally on the edge of the wilderness. Instead of being shadowed by the buildings of the city and the forest and lake behind it, it was just a building bordered on one end by a forest and on the other by a bare, burned wasteland. Fortunately, the balcony had been built facing the lake and the forest, so the destruction wasn't quite visible.

Annabeth stepped out into the cold November air. She shivered as she made her way to the railing. Despite the chilly weather, the view was as spectacular as always. In a break in the clouds, a near full moon glistened and illuminated the dark night sky. Cold, grey clouds hung over like the lid of a coffin, but even that was not enough to eliminate the beauty of the moonlight on the glittering lake. Through the thickets and branches, the reflection of the moon was visible on the water's surface. The dim light reflected and cast a brilliant and mysterious shadow against the trees. But it was the mystery that made it beautiful.

But more so, Annabeth thought about the lake because the lake reminded her of Percy. After all, he was the son of Poseidon, a sea and river deity.

She thought about what Zoë had told her. Could she really be another example of the "Man-Hating Virgin"? After all, she was still a virgin, and if things continued on their current path, she would find herself hating men in no time. She already hated Luke because she'd fallen too hard for him. It was only a matter of time before she would come to the same conclusion with Percy Jackson. It was inevitable.

That's what she told herself.

Zoë Nightshade passed by the balcony on her way to her room. Seeing Annabeth out there, she thought bitterly to her past. She saw a lot of her past self in Annabeth—ignorance, low self-esteem, insecure. But Zoë knew better than most average people… at least, she liked to believe that she knew better than most average people. She knew that it wasn't solely a person's perfections or imperfections that attracted people. Different combinations of perfections and imperfections attracted different people.

Nevertheless, Annabeth was emotionally-weak. Perhaps smart and strong-minded and independent, but she lacked emotional strength and was ignorant in situations regarding strong emotional feelings. After all, what would one expect from a child of Athena, a goddess of wisdom not love?

That would be one of her fatal flaws going forward.

Zoë knew that no matter what path she chose, she would end up hurting herself. If she chose to chase after Percy, she would hurt herself. If she chose to leave Percy, he would end up hurting her. The way the dilemma between the government and its people was developing, it seemed likely that conflict would soon spark between Loyalists and Revolutionaries.

A memory flashed in her mind.

She was in a man's body. She was swinging the sword Anaklusmos. She killed anyone in her path. They were commoners, wearing commoner clothing and wielding commoner weapons. Then another memory replaced it. She was still wielding the sword Anaklusmos, but this time she was infiltrating a medieval castle.

The memories that had been given to her were from the sword Anaklusmos itself. When she first cut herself with the weapon, she had been thrown an immense load of memory and power. She had fallen unconscious from the sheer amount of stress it had put on her. And for years after, she'd had nightmares of different memories that she had been given.

During a time called the Crusades, the wielder of Anaklusmos had been a leader of a group of knights. They had successfully captured a land called the Holy Land from a different race of peoples. There seemed to be a large time skip after, and the time of the Crusades disappeared. Next, the sword gave her memories of a war between an army of blue and an army of red. The wielder of Anaklusmos was part of the army of red, and again they won the battle. Then the Renaissance appeared, and this time the sword's wielder was infiltrating the castle.

But the worst memory was the shortest memory. It was, perhaps, three seconds. All she could hear was screaming. All she could sense was death. All she could see was fire.

These memories had burned themselves into her mind.

After all, without those memories, perhaps she wouldn't have obtained the sword's power. Because up until that point, she couldn't fight. When she tried to fight back, she would end up getting beat up. She would always lose to her sisters and her father in battle. They were too strong for her. Until that point. She ran away from home and managed to fend off one of her sisters, something she hadn't been able to do up until that point.

Some people rose to power and fame through hard work and dedication. She had cheated her way. It was something she'd never admitted to anyone. It was embarrassing. And she was afraid they would take her status away. It wasn't as if Percy Jackson hadn't gotten a boost. But there was something different about him. It was almost as if he'd already been born with a blessing in swordplay. The added power of the sword must have made his strength immense.

Zoë thought about the day when Poseidon had told her to bring the sword to his son. The god's voice had been harsh. She knew exactly why. And she knew she owed Poseidon for her success, so she gave the sword to Percy Jackson. She hoped him the best of luck because his father had given her the power to move forward. Yet it was also compensation. One day, Percy Jackson might kill her. Because the day he found out what her order was fourteen years ago would be her last.

After all, she had been eighteen. Even after what she'd been through, she was still ignorant, still naïve. She followed her orders without hesitation… without thinking about the consequences. She had wanted revenge on the half-bloods anyway. She was the daughter of one who had abused her from day one. She had made mistake after mistake after mistake after mistake. It was a wonder as to how she was in a position of power.

She remembered reading on Percy Jackson's activity throughout Olympia from his point of graduation to the present. He'd always targeted the government. It was clear what his intentions were. But Zoë didn't necessarily think he was wrong. Just that his approach was flawed. After all, if he wanted to tear down the government, he was looking in the wrong places.

But maybe the destruction of the SOF was a step forward for Percy Jackson. Through that destruction, the rebels and the government were opening up more and more. Percy could easily sneak through the seams and infiltrate the government. It was only a matter of time.

Zoë Nightshade made it to her room. As soon as she stepped inside, she took note of the eagle perched at the window.

She took the roll of parchment from its feet and unrolled it. It read:

Transcript: November 24, 2015.

What's up? Listen, I have a task for you, Nightshade. Take your best for this. It might get a little dirty. I want you to hunt down Percy Jackson. Track him, follow him, and await the next letter. Once you receive it, and I tell you to strike, go for it and capture him, dead or alive.

PLC.

Zoë sighed and looked at the picture of Percy Jackson that she'd hung up. She grabbed and knife and threw it at the picture. The knife struck right between his eyes. She said, "All right, Percy Jackson. Let's see who's the better fighter now. I'm going all out."

It took them one year, but Percy and Nico finally managed to tap into every single one of Deu5 M0rti5's networks. With the help of Will's spies, they managed to get into all the communication lines of the gang.

Throughout the year, they dressed up as gang members, waving the Deu5 M0rti5 banner and rioting, looting and pillaging villages and cities. They coerced many of the gang members into joining the revolutionary army and turned the citizens against the gang. It had become a successful operation. Nico was easy to cooperate with and a very useful ally.

After all, who could stop the Bronze and Black Swordsmen?

But that day, November 25, was not a day for rioting. It was a day of mourning. It wasn't the anniversary of her death, but it was a couple weeks after the anniversary. Despite being overdue, they celebrated and mourned Bianca's death with a great deal of formality. It wasn't enough for them to wear suits, but they brought plentiful flowers and prayers with them to give her.

The tombstone was much larger than the tombstones of surrounding graves. Carved into the stone were the words:

Bianca di Angelo
Sister, Friend, Daughter
1994-2014
She will be dearly missed by friends
and family.

"We'll do her proud," Percy told Nico. "We'll take down the gang leaders aiding the government, just like she wanted."

"We'll find the ones truly responsible for her death," Nico swore. "And I'll kill them with my own hands. I'll make sure of that."

Percy nodded and hummed in assent.

They stood in silence for a couple minutes, staring at the grave. Both held flowers in their hands, and once a minute was up, they laid the flowers across the grassy mound where the girl's body was buried.

For Percy, all his work had finally paid off. He could finally right his wrong. He could pay back the mistake he made when he allowed himself to get tailed by gang members. He would no longer feel the weight of the guilt of the responsibility of her death. Bianca could finally forgive him. Nothing would change the fact that she was dead, but it was more for her legacy and honour than anything else. He knew he couldn't change the fact that until the very end, she had never blamed him and had possibly been in love with him. But he still bore the guilt.

Percy knew Nico for longer than he had known Bianca in their short span together, but he still remembered all the times they had worked together. It sure felt like a long time.

"I wish I remembered more about her," Nico admitted after a while.

Percy thought about something. "Hey, I know this is kinda overdue, but do you remember anything about your mother?"

Nico scanned his mind. "I can't remember much. Just a name. A vague voice and a vague visage. My past feels so blurred."

"Perhaps it's a result of all the brainwashing," Percy suggested.

"Maybe. But it's not like I forgot her. I remember her name and a bit of what she was like. I think she was really kind and gentle. I'm not sure how Hades, god of the Underworld, fell in love with her, but I guess he really loved her. To make a proud, just god fall in love with her must mean that she was like an angel. After all, it's what my last name means. Di Angelo is the angel, essentially."

"Angel and a lord of the dead, huh?" It reminded him bitterly of his talk with Bianca about Romeo and Juliet and forbidden love. They both disliked it, but in this case, it seemed kind of applicable. How ironic, he thought. "Sounds like a meant-to-be love."

Nico shrugged. There was a sad look in his eyes. "I guess."

Percy bowed one last time in front of the graves before stepping aside. He wished he could head to the grave of the SOF back in the Capital and mourn his friends' once again, but at the current moment, that was impossible.

Nico finished a couple minutes later.

"Let's get back to work," the son of Hades said.

Percy nodded. But then suddenly, a chill ran up his spine. Immediately, he looked around and caught sight of something at one of the cemetery's entrances. It looked like a person, perhaps a criminal. But either way, the person was writing something down, an eagle circling above their head.

He tapped Nico on the shoulder and pointed to the person. "That doesn't look promising. We'll split up. You take the downtown route to the highway. I'll take the countryside way. Whoever isn't tailed, get reinforcements and meet up at the fourth leg of the highway. Hopefully you're not attacked before the fourth leg."

"Basically ten miles down the road? Gotcha."

Nico disappeared swiftly. He made his way toward the downtown sector of Detroit. Percy glanced back at the person, who was doing their best to mourn a random grave, and made his way to the back exit of the cemetery.

This was the reason why he had told Nico to keep all of their equipment on.

As he walked into the countryside and into the woods, he checked to make sure his knives and throwing shuriken were equipped. His sword was strapped to his back as usual. Occasionally, he glanced back and noticed the figure following him. He prayed for timely help from Nico as he passed by a small village just outside the city.

A local farmed waved at him, being a revolutionist and a good supplier of food for the growing revolutionary army. Percy waved back and subtly gestured behind him. The farmer noticed his stalker and winked. Percy smiled at the farmer, who would hopefully buy him a little time.

He kept walking. When he reached a turn in the path, he came to a crossroads. It would be dangerous, but he could take a shortcut through the forest onto the highway, which would be a bad place to attack someone as it was it broad daylight. The only problem was that the thickets and the brush were the best for setting ambushes and traps. Percy wasn't sure if it was worth the risk. Meanwhile, the path would take him much longer to traverse, but it would be slightly safer. Still, there wasn't much traffic on the path and there were many spots where ambushes could easily be set up. Either way, he was walking straight into enemy territory.

He decided to take the path for another five minutes before turning and entering the woods.

The woods were dark, even in the daytime. Thick branches and the large green leaves obscured the forest floor from much light. Percy had been in State 5 long enough to realize that many of its forests were boreal and that just south of Detroit, the Midwest plains began abruptly, as if trees simply stopped growing right along a line.

As he made his way through the trees, he found himself thinking about the Hunters. Various areas he passed reminded him of areas that Hunters could set up traps and ambushes. They could easily camouflage and attack an unsuspecting criminal. Percy wasn't sure whether it was premonition or some supernatural force, but the longer he thought about it, the more he became suspicious of it. He wondered if the Hunters were the ones after him. That probably shouldn't have been possible. If Zoë Nightshade was in charge of them…

He was about half a mile away from the highway when they attacked. And it was a brutal attack.

They somehow managed to follow him into a claustrophobic area when they attacked. The arrows came first, and he didn't notice them until they nearly took off both his ears. Immediately, seven figures appeared out of the forest and surrounded him. Of course, his first instinct was to draw his sword. Then realizing how small the area was, he realized that his sword would be nearly useless.

Percy wasn't sure how he managed to do it, but he got out of there. All he remembered was the blinding pain of being stabbed and the decapitated head flying into the forest. Perhaps he'd body-checked her away after he cut her head off, but all he knew at the moment was to run.

For someone who was focusing on trying to escape, he was very lucky that it was the brunette he'd killed. But maybe he wasn't so lucky after all. If the blonde girl next to the brunette had died, maybe his fate would have been different. But perhaps the Fates had purposely woven it this way for a reason.

Percy ran. He made it to a clearing when the Hunter he feared the greatest appeared before him, slashing at him. A shallow cut across his shoulder. It wasn't enough to hinder his movements, but it was enough to sting.

"Zoë Nightshade," he said in awe.

Without a word, she darted straight at him with her knives. Instinctively, he raised his sword to block the strikes. When her second knife came through his defence, he grabbed her wrist before she could stab him and twisted the knife out of her hand. Then she head-butted him, and he stumbled back, stunned.

"I'm sorry."

Percy thought he'd heard her whisper that as she struck.

But at the last moment, he parried the attack. Now that she only had one knife, it was much easier. Percy slashed at her, making sure that only the flat of the blade would hit her. Still, she parried each strike with her blade. He forced her back until she was pressed up against a tree. He saw her eyes dart around, looking for an escape, but just as she tried to move, he kicked her in the stomach as hard as he could. Zoë fell to the ground, clutching her stomach, clearly stunned from the blow.

Percy turned and ran. He made it ten feet before the rest of the Hunters caught up to him.

It had been merely thirty seconds since the start of the ambush. Five figures closed in on Percy as he desperately tried to escape.

The first Hunter swiped at him. He blocked with his sword, but it gave a second Hunter a good enough distraction to come in for the kill. The knife felt hot in his left arm. Pain soared up his arm like a rocket. She stabbed him twice in the arm before he reacted. For some reason, he'd managed to keep himself from killing Zoë by striking her with non-fatal strikes. But with the Hunters faced now, he didn't recognize them. They were almost faceless to him. The second Hunter was dead the next time she took a breath.

Percy wasn't sure what overcame him. The Hunters fired their arrows. They slashed with their knives. But no matter what hit him, he found the strength to keep going. He didn't know it, but only two minutes had passed when he struck down the fifth of seven Hunters. The sixth was somewhere ten feet away from him, and only one Hunter stood in his way now.

"Percy Jackson," Annabeth Chase choked. She couldn't muster up the courage to say any more words. All she did was level her knives at him. Seeing as what he'd done to her comrades and the way he'd spoken to her when they last parted, there was no way he wouldn't kill her as well.

Percy's jaw went slack. He stared at the beautiful blonde in front of him. Her face was streaked with dirt and grime, and her hair dangled like cobwebs in front of her face. But she was still beautiful. Percy hadn't seen the girl in over a year. His heart skipped a beat when he looked at her face. Then immediately anger took over, and he attacked.

He put in all his anger in each stroke. He displayed his resentment toward Luke. He showed his jealousy and his grief. He demonstrated that emotions can sometimes win battles.

Annabeth felt the power and emotion in each stroke, and with each strike that clashed with her blades, the most powerless she felt. She felt like a nail that he was hammering into the ground until she was lodged there with no way to ever get out, as if he was trying to bury her under mounds of dirt. His sword came like a whirlwind, and suddenly she was on the ground. The side of her head hurt. Her head was spinning.

But she rolled away from his next strike.

"Why?" Percy snarled. "Is this what you call love, Annabeth?"

He was angry because he felt hurt.

"Is this what you do to people you like?"

He was angry because he felt betrayed.

"Is it, Annabeth?!"

He was angry because it was her.

She jumped into arm's reach and grabbed his sword hand. With a quick twist, she wrestled Anaklusmos out of his grasp. In retaliation, he grabbed one of her arms and snapped it like a twig. She cried in pain, but he didn't stop. Bloodlust consumed him and he beat her like he never beaten someone before. Every strike was to hurt. Every strike was to share his pain. Every strike was to show his selfishness and pride. He knew she must've been hurt too. But he wanted her to feel what he felt. Agony, guilt, pain.

All the emotional weight he carried hurt more than any physical injury he could ever sustain. All the death and gore he'd seen was too much for any person to not go insane. This is when he truly realized that he was broken.

When he felt like he was done, Annabeth lay motionless on the ground, barely conscious. Her breathing was erratic. Her face was bloodied. She looked a horrible mess. Percy stumbled back and looked around. He looked at the dead bodies. He looked at what he'd done.

Death is my life.

Percy stepped away from Annabeth. He wasn't sure if she would survive. Clenching his fists, he swore to his heart's content. He swore for a good few minutes before Zoë Nightshade burst back onto the scene.

She was wielding her knives, and it looked as though she'd recovered from the kick to the stomach. Percy scooped up Anaklusmos and held Zoë at least three feet away.

"Attack me," Zoë challenged.

"No, this is stupid!" Percy barked. "Why should I fight you?"

"Look at all the young men and women you killed! These are my troops. I will fight for them if need be."

"Why did you listen to Luke in the end, Zoë? He's a tyrant."

Zoë slashed at him. He parried the strikes.

"Do you think I want this, Percy Jackson?" asked the Hunter. Her expression was grim but unreadable. "Do you think I want to kill you right here and right now? Of course not. My duty, however, is my duty. I must carry out my orders until I fall in battle."

"Why are you so insistent on fighting me?" Percy questioned. "You could just let me go and tell Luke I managed to escape."

Zoë gave him a hard look. "Because… then you won't get your revenge."

Percy gave her a mystified look. "What?"

"I may have given you that sword, Percy Jackson," she said, swallowing with difficulty. "But I was also the one… I was the one who gave the final command to Gabriel Ugliano. I was the one truly responsible for your parents' deaths."

A stunned silence enveloped them for a moment.

"Please, end this," Zoë begged. "End it!"

"You… you were responsible? That… that's not true!"

"It may not be true but it god damn sure feels like my fault. I told you, Percy. I'm the one responsible. Are you going to take your revenge or not?"

"I can't kill you," Percy breathed, dropping his sword arm so that the sword pointed downward. "I can't kill you. I can't kill you."

Zoë hesitated. "Then I'll kill you!"

She lunged forward but before she could even touch him with her knife, Percy raised Anaklusmos and stabbed Zoë straight through the chest. Percy could hear her sudden gasp. Confusion, conflict and fury swirled angrily in his head.

He pulled Anaklusmos out of her. Blood dripped down the edge of his sword. Leaking in an erratic flow, the crimson liquid gushed out of her chest. It was not ten seconds when the life escaped her lips, the same way it had left Lucius': like a soft puff of air… and then absolute nothingness.

Percy stared at Zoë's body.

She was dead. She was dead. She was dead. She was dead.

Blood. Crimson. Red. Death. Darkness. Shadows.

Percy stared at Zoë's body.

"It's over," he said to the dead body. "You lost. My parents… are avenged."

He didn't feel that way. Her death meant nothing to his vengeful self. All that weighed on him was the overwhelming guilt and sorrow. All the dead bodies around him fell by his sword. He was responsible for so many dead people that it just seemed stupid now. Who cared if he was a killer? Who cared if he was a murderer? It didn't matter anymore.

It was like a drill. Slash, kill, rinse, repeat.

Percy looked over at Annabeth's body. She lay against a tree, her eyes wide open. They were stormy and cold. She was still alive though. He walked over to her and put a hand on her forehead, brushing the hair from her eyes. She stared up at him with a blank stare, as if she was completely immobilized. He swallowed and said, "You can send a message for help."

His words caught in his throat. He wanted to say he was being merciful to keep her alive, but in truth, he didn't want to kill her. And in all honestly, it wasn't more merciful to let her live. He didn't know how much pain she was in. After looking at her broken form, he realized how harsh he'd been in hurting her.

Swallowing his words, he stood up and stumbled away. His injuries were beginning to hurt.

His fatigue reached him. He realized his shallow shoulder cut was more severe than he'd thought. His arm was bloody, his head was ringing, and his body felt sore. His stomach was bruised and his chest matted with blood.

Percy stumbled his way onto the highway. He made his way to the fourth leg.

Nico was waiting for him. Immediately seeing Percy's condition, he asked, "Are you okay?"

Percy gave him a dark look.

"Well it depends what you consider okay. If killing six people is okay, then sure… I'm fine."

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