Disclaimer: I don't own the Percy Jackson series, the characters and so on.
Warning: This is actually the last chapter.
36 – XXXVI
Perhaps, if the story had been told from a different perspective, Percy Jackson would have been the antagonist. Then again, no matter whose perspective it was from… a perspective that would give a good insight into the war, the protagonist would be an anti-hero.
Perhaps that was a result of a war story. When it comes to slaughter… when it comes to death, there is no real hero. It isn't to say the beliefs of society today are necessarily wrong, but it is because the society that exists today is a result of the victory of a war that makes it like a brainwash in itself. One is raised to believe the thoughts of those around them. If they radicalize, they are alienated. It isn't just the fact that radicalization is not as bad as one might be led to believe, because in various cases, radicalization can turn bloody. But accepting that society will always be flawed and that "good guys" don't win is something one must be accustomed to.
There is a reason why fantasy is fantasy and reality is reality.
A utopian world may not be impossible but with the power and control many humans desire nowadays, especially with individuality, it seems unlikely. In that sense, to win a battle and obtain the power is to raise some and degrade the others. There has been no battle in which one side has everyone and is fighting against a sole enemy. For Percy Jackson, to win is also to lose.
Take the examples of revolutions throughout history and examine them.
The revolution of the 1770s in which the imperial monarchy had been overthrown was not one of liberty and freedom. It was one of segregation and elimination. The half-bloods in the battle knew that all too well. It wasn't to overthrow the imperial monarchy. It was to replace the imperial monarchy with lower-class leaders. The situation improved, but the poor remained poor, and the rich who sided with revolutionaries stayed rich. Those who fought for the monarchy were imprisoned or executed.
But there is a saying… a man once said, "You can kill a man, but you can't kill an idea."
Unless everyone is raised the same way with the same beliefs, a true utopia may never be reached. But then one might call that the stripping of individuality. What is valued so much by society may just be an important cause in the conflict between and within societies.
Percy Jackson was just a cog in the machine. Perhaps he was an important part, a part that helped drive the machine of rebels forward. But in the end, he was nothing more than a tool. He was nothing more than one piece of the puzzle. Using him, the Conglomerate could install a government with their ideals and their beliefs. If he died, at least he would have helped them a significant amount.
Poseidon knew this. He had watched the battles. He had watched his son's actions. In a war, dehumanization is critical in success. Perhaps the dehumanization of his son was not only because of what he had been through but also because of Anaklusmos.
Poseidon knew that the sword held the spirits of Rhode, Aniketos and Theodora. He wondered if Percy had seen the visions. He wondered if Percy had taken on the memories of the three. One consciousness was already hard enough to handle for mortal bodies. To have four in one body at once would have driven him insane. It was already hard for him, a former god, to keep two in his own head when he had been accustomed to at least ten previous to the incident and collapse.
He saw, through a Hermes-message (Poseidon would never get used to that.), Percy kill all the people in the room. He saw him slay everyone on his path to the hideout that the daughter of Zeus and the daughter of Athena were holed up in. He saw him approach the two with his knives out. And he saw him drop them, putting his hands up in the air.
"Fighting a war is about believing the enemy is evil," Percy said. "Because you can't pull the trigger if you don't."
"Pull the trigger?" Annabeth asked, her knife pointed directly at his chest. "Like on a gun?"
"Where else?" he snorted. He turned to Thalia, who was giving him an expectant look. "Don't worry. I have your shield. I found a child of Hecate and had them help me give it a hidden form." He gestured to the bracelet on his wrist. "Happy?"
Annabeth narrowed her eyes in suspicion.
Thalia sighed. "So what do you want?"
"Did you see Jason?" Percy asked her.
She knit her eyebrows. "What?"
The son of Poseidon sighed. "He joined with Luke. He captured Malcolm. Malcolm's dead."
It was Thalia's turn to narrow her eyes. "What are you talking about, Jackson?"
"I swear on the River Styx that I am speaking the truth."
The room fell into silence, and Thalia's eyes glimmered with dismay and hope. "Jason's… Jason's here?"
"He joined Luke, however," Percy told her. "Be my guest and do what you like afterward, but I'm going to show you I really mean business. I will restore Olympia to peace, one way or another." He reached around for a bag strapped to his waist.
Annabeth tightened her grip on her knife.
Out of the bag, Percy produced a head. He dropped it on the floor, and Thalia gasped. Annabeth felt sick. The head was that of a man's, clean-shaven and handsome. He had blonde hair and a fair complexion, but his face was dirtied by blood. He resembled no part of Thalia, but just by the look in Thalia's face she could tell that this was someone close to her. There was a bullet wound right between his eyes, and his neck had been cut clean off.
Annabeth wanted to vomit. It wasn't the first time she had seen dead bodies like this, but it was the first time she'd seen a head kept in a bag. It smelled horrible. Looking at Percy, who stared grimly at the head, she could hardly believe that Percy was the one who'd beheaded the man. No, it wasn't that she couldn't believe that. It was because she didn't want to believe that. It was just so inhumane.
"This is war," Percy said grimly. "This is the price we all pay."
Thalia gently caressed her dead brother's head's cheek. It was an eerie sight, but Thalia swallowed her grief. She was crying, tears streaking down her face, but she was doing her best not to break down. She stepped away, and in a hoarse voice, she said, "You did what you had to do. If you didn't kill him, he would have killed you. It makes sense."
"I'm sorry, Thalia," Percy apologized. "Your brother… he may have been a good person at heart. But he made some bad decisions. He earned my hatred."
Thalia was shaking but managing to hold together.
"So what's the big picture here?" Annabeth demanded, trying to shove her feelings to the side. She didn't want to get emotional here. "What's the big thing I'm missing?"
Percy smirked. "Has anyone told you about the monsters?"
Annabeth nodded. "Luke did."
"Did he say I unleashed it?"
"No… he said Nico unleashed the monsters, that the son of Hades had betrayed him and that he was going to kill Nico," Annabeth recalled. "Why do you ask?"
Percy's eyes flashed in alarm, and he looked at Thalia, who gave Annabeth a mystified look.
"Wait, Luke blamed Nico?" Thalia asked. "I never heard about this."
Annabeth looked away. "Luke doesn't trust the kid anymore. Frankly, I've never trusted him. He's always been loose."
"What if I tell you that Luke is right?" Percy said.
"Coming from you, that's suspicious," Annabeth admitted. "But I'll listen to what you have to say. For now."
Percy told her about what happened and about the Great Collapse.
"No, no, that can't be true." Annabeth looked like she was trying to force herself to refuse the theory. "There's no way that monsters could appear from a helmet."
"How else would monsters have invaded Olympia?" Percy countered.
"Nico summoned the monsters from the Underworld—"
"The Underworld doesn't exist."
"Yes it does! How else do you explain half-bloods? We're children of deities! Of magicians! They control their domains. Hades rules the Underworld. It can't just… disappear!"
"The world changes, Annabeth," Percy told her. "If we don't do something about the monsters now, the whole world will be compromised. The reason why the world is the way it is is because the gods fought a war against the world. Magical energy was sucked down into some invisible vacuum or something and Chaos and Tartarus just collapsed! Something horrible is going to happen if we don't do something."
"It took ages for the collapse to happen, though. We'll be fine!"
"Stop trying to stall, Annabeth. You know what's going to happen. You're smarter than anyone else I know. Stop trying to reject it just because it seems horrible. It collapsed not long after Typhon was defeated. The cycle of life and death also pertained to the monsters, not just living beings on the surface. It's like taking away all the fish in the world. The food chains would be severely disrupted and death would take away most of life. We live in an age where magic is almost non-existent. You think children of Hecate can use a lot of magic? I bet you that back then, magic would have been ten-times as powerful. Stalling is not going to help us."
"Why would Luke want such a thing?"
"Because he's narrow-minded! He's an idiot. He doesn't realize what will happen to us. All he is… All he's done was in the name of revenge. He wanted payback against those who had killed his kind. He poisoned his mother. He's slowly been killing her, just for revenge. He is doing exactly what I had been doing. I know now that what I had done wasn't right. I killed for the sake of revenge, even if my targets had no connection to my business. I was searching for corruption, for links to Deu5 M0rti5. And I eventually gave up the opportunity to kill my parents' killers by my own sword. All that killing was for nothing."
"Then why do you still do it."
"To stop Luke. To stop this madness."
Suddenly, a clap echoed in the room. Percy swiveled his head, trying to pinpoint the source. Out of a hidden spot, Luke Castellan emerged, clapping with a devilish grin. He had a gun in his hand and a backpack slung over his shoulder that dripped blood.
"Congratulations, Percy!" Luke congratulated him. "Only… you're a bit too late."
"Percy!" Thalia shouted.
She suddenly collided with him, just as Luke fired the weapon. Thalia cried out in pain and collapsed on top of him. He grabbed his own gun and pointed it at Luke.
"Tch," clicked the son of Hermes. "Always in the way. So desperate for attention. You're useless now, but you were a wonderful tool to use, Thalia Grace."
Percy didn't lower his weapon but glanced at Thalia. She was lying on her stomach, grimacing from the wound in her back. Percy winced when he saw it had hit her spinal cord. Through the blood and flesh, he could see shattered bone. He looked up at Luke, who was pointing his weapon at Annabeth. The son of Hermes gave him a cold smile.
"Percy Jackson. You have three seconds to lower your weapon, or I will shoot Annabeth. Three… two…"
Percy growled in frustration and dropped his weapon, raising his hands up in the air.
Luke grinned and turned the weapon on him. "Oh, you are too easy."
Percy's eyes widened just in time for him to feel a scorching pain in his chest. He fell backwards, landing hard on the ground. His vision faded to black and he sank into darkness. But he realized that he wasn't dead. He'd been shot in the chest, but miraculously he could still breathe. He could still hear. He realized his eyes were just closed. He could feel the blood spewing out of him. He felt faint.
"No!" he heard Annabeth scream.
A scraping noise next to him. There was heavy breathing. It was Thalia. She had dragged herself over. He could feel the pressure of her hand on his wound. He could feel her trying to minimize the bleeding. She whispered, "You're not going to die on me, Percy. Not… not like Nico."
The bag, he thought.
The bag that had been dripping in blood must have been a bag with Nico's head. Just as his bag had contained Jason's head, Luke's contained Nico's. Percy apologized to Hades for putting his son in so much danger. Nico had sacrificed his life as a result of Percy's actions. But unlike before, Nico's sacrifice fueled Percy. It was just like Liz's death. It was just like the massacre of the SOF. It was just like Bianca's death. He wanted to fight in their name. He didn't want to give up now. He could still move. All he needed was one well-placed bullet.
"Nico should have thought twice about betraying me," Luke growled. "And I thought he was valuable. Tch. All of you are traitors in the end. You should understand as well as I do. You should want revenge just as much as I do. Revenge on the mortals who scorned us. Revenge on the mortals who killed our kind. May Castellan is dead. New York and Aeleos are gone. Once I destroy this petty rebellion, I will make sure no mortal lives in freedom. They'll become our slaves, and the gods will rape them for half-bloods. Half-bloods will rule this world, not mortals. We shall restore the world to its proper glory."
"That's… that's insane!" Annabeth argued.
"You seemed fine with it before," Luke barked with a laugh. "What's the deal now?"
"I… I was never okay with that. I wanted to believe that you weren't doing anything to harm others. I wanted to believe you were right, that Percy was wrong. How could you do something like this? You… you let my family die! What have you done to my father?"
Luke sneered. "I kept him alive to please you, Annabeth. You have another chance. Not like Thalia. Not like Nico. Come with me. Be my bride. Rule this Golden Age with me, Annie."
"I'd rather die!" she spat.
Percy could hear him grab her. He could hear her scream in resistance. He couldn't see what was happening, but the resistance and screaming from Annabeth gave him a picture far worse than what was probably reality. Rage filled his veins. He could feel his hands again, and he reached up toward Thalia. He groped around for her hand. When he touched her hand, she gasped.
"Percy," she whispered hoarsely.
"Get me my gun," he ordered in a faint voice. "My gun."
He felt her hand move away as she pushed herself toward his feet.
"Let go of me!" Annabeth yelled.
Luke screamed in pain. "My hand! What have you done?"
"Bastard!" Annabeth yelled.
There was a clash of swords.
"I'd rather die than marry you, swine!"
There was a cold sensation on Percy's hand. Metal. With what remained of his strength, he curled his hand around the weapon. He felt Thalia's hand guide him. He forced his eyes open, and he finally saw the battlefield.
Thalia was at his side, seemingly paralyzed from the waist down. Her legs lay limply on the ground. Thirty feet away, Annabeth and Luke were engaged in sword combat. Luke was using his left hand, which clearly was his non-dominant hand, as his right hand was lying on the floor somewhere ten feet away from their fight. A line of blood followed their battle. Annabeth was attacking with her knife, attacking relentlessly at the son of Hermes. There was a bruise forming on her cheek. Percy wondered if that was from the wrestling earlier.
Luke's gun lay on the ground, lying loosely in the limp grip of his cut-off hand. That gave Percy the advantage. Luke couldn't kill him from a distance anymore. Percy told Thalia, "Help me sit up."
"But your wound—!"
"Help me up," he demanded.
Thalia gritted her teeth and pulled herself so that she was positioned behind his shoulders. Using all her upper-body strength, she pushed his body up. Percy felt weak but was strong enough to keep his balance. He felt Thalia's supporting arms helping him sit up. He felt nauseous, seeing how much blood he had lost, but kept focus.
Annabeth didn't see that he was up and ready to fire. She was too busy fighting the weakened Luke. But if anything Percy could tell about Luke's swordplay was that he was almost as good as Percy, if not better. Percy wondered if he could even fight Luke, if the son of Hermes had held off against a raging Annabeth with his head this entire time. Luke was also wasting less energy, despite the blood loss. Annabeth's attacks were slowing down.
"This is your mistake, Annabeth," Luke growled, deciding the match with a decisive blow. He slashed her legs out from underneath her, a large gash appearing on Annabeth's right thigh. "It's over."
Annabeth fell to the floor, raising her weapons to protect herself.
As Luke prepared to strike, Percy found the right target, the right opportunity. He had only recently learned how to fire a gun, but found that it wasn't as hard as he initially thought. He fired three bullets in rapid succession, a feat impossible one year ago as weapons like this had yet to be publicly distributed.
They all hit Luke in vital places.
He died instantly. His fatal mistake was not finishing Percy off. He let him live simply because he thought Percy would die.
"Percy!" Annabeth cried out, scrambling to stand. She couldn't manage to stand up, but crawled her way over.
After firing the bullets, Percy crashed to the ground. Thalia pushed herself up and covered his wound again. Her hands were smeared in red. Colour faded from Percy's vision. He could no longer see the dark raven black hair of his cousin.
Annabeth's face appeared overtop of his.
"Hey," he muttered.
He could see tears falling freely from her eyes. "You idiot! Why did you do that? Why did you get shot?!"
He laughed. "I'm an idiot. That's why."
"It's not funny!" she growled, clutching his arm tightly. "You… you're—"
"I know." He interrupted her as she tried to search for the right word to say. "It's okay."
Annabeth squeezed his arm tightly, and let her head rest on his stomach. His feeling was fading away. Is this what dying feels like? he thought.
"Annabeth?" he said after what felt like forever.
He felt her head rise. He could no longer see the colour of her hair. He imagined her eyes must have been red after crying for so long. With a sad smile, he said, "I can't see the blonde colour of your hair anymore."
She squeezed her eyes shut, perhaps because she thought he was stupid for saying something like that in a situation like this.
"Have you ever been in love with me?" he asked her.
Annabeth opened her eyes, and a grieving expression appeared. "I—I loved you as a friend," she said. "I wanted to be friends. I loved you. I loved you."
Percy could no longer tell the difference between truth and lies. "Whatever the case, Annabeth. Make sure the world doesn't dissolve into chaos. Take on Will's role. Take on Malcolm's role. Take on my role. If you feel at all guilty about them dying, you'll run Olympia. I know you can do it. You too, Thalia. For everyone who's died. Zoë, Nico, Bianca. Liz, Aaron, Rose. Everyone."
"I… I promise."
"Good…" Percy felt the life escaping from his lips, just as it had with Zoë and Clarisse and Lucius. Slowly, and as he imagined, he would end it with a puff. "I trust you."
And at 3:04 in the afternoon, on August 18, 2016, Percy Jackson died.
And that's the end... Or is it? If you want an epilogue, please bash this chapter as harshly as possible. If you're satisfied with this end, leave a positive review. If you expected this, give a critical review.
Thanks,
SharkAttack719 (aka TheCharacterKiller)