So I'm at college rn, and in my direct eyeline I can see: someone plugging their laptop charger into the socket on the ceiling, a litre bottle of coke, four people screaming at the football table, and someone slamming their hand into the vending machine looking close to a mental breakdown. I've taken a half hour nap today and drawn aliens on my psychology booklet help.

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Chapter 45

Percy XXIX

Koios snatched wildly at Percy, who jumped back as the titan got to his feet, practically vibrating with anger.

"My brother!" Koios roared.

He threw Krios' still severed arm to the side. It turned into dust as soon as it hit the floor, and the titan started towards Percy, scooping up Percy's drakon bone sword in his hand. The celestial bronze sword lay discarded on the ground, and Koios was momentarily distracted as he stared at the blade, that had darkened considerably since touching the Lethe.

His hesitation seemed to annoy Tartarus, and the primordial strode forwards, snapping his head up.

"I do believe Titankiller would now be a better name." Tartarus remarked darkly, reaching out a large hand to grab Percy around the waist.

Percy reacted on instinct.

He took a step back, the edge of his foot hanging precariously off the edge of the cliff, the Lethe bubbling furiously beneath, and reached out a hand, that twisted and slowly clenched in the air.

Tartarus stopped.

Percy winced internally. While he could feel some vague sense of ichor, he had absolutely no control over it.

Tartarus had not stopped because of him, and even as Percy strained so hard his eyes began to hurt, Tartarus did nothing but stand there.

"My child, I assure you, you cannot stop me. You have mighty power for a demigod, and I'm sure my children and grandchildren are well within your grasp to slaughter as you please. But you cannot kill me. Not in my area of expertise, which is," Tartarus gestured around vaguely, "Well, everywhere."

"You think you have power over me? You do not. You could never defeat me here, I doubt even Chaos themself could put me down." Tartarus began to advance on him slowly, and Percy found himself teetering on the edge.

"I was there when the first monsters began to crawl. I was there to shape them, craft and twist them into creatures of blood and malice and death. I gave them fangs, claws, poisons and powers. Skin as impenetrable as metal, and ichor in their veins, flowing fast and thick, able to make the flesh of mortals melt off like water."

Percy felt his knees waver as he stared directly into Tartarus' whirling face of death, but stayed standing.

"These monsters kill, and torture, and laugh. They make demigods and gods alike beg in their last moments, on their knees."

Tartarus paused.

"It is always the gods who beg first." He hissed, with such quiet power that Percy's heart skipped a beat.

"And you stand here, in my domain," Tartarus said, growing larger every second it seemed, "in my own body, the first to lay eyes on my corporeal form in a millenia, and you dare to challenge the one who taught each and every single monster those acts?"

Percy didn't know what to say to that. What was there to even say?

His eyes flickered to the side, where Koios was inching further away, his face pale and sunken in fear. Percy wondered if he looked like that himself.

Tartarus' head moved an inch to the side, seemingly observing the titan as well. The stare dropped to the sword on the floor.

"Oh, that's interesting." Tartarus said, backing off, finally letting Percy breathe out.

Tartarus stepped just before Koios, who recoiled several inches.

"This sword," Tartarus began, "What have you done to it?"

Percy blinked, moving away from the Lethe bank ridge. He looked at his twisted bronze sword, once Kelli's leg. His brow furrowed and he looked at it again.

It was no longer the mess it once was. The spikes of warped bronze had flattened and smoothed over, darkening to pitch black, a melted red colour in places. There was an odd glow to it, as if it had shadows all around it. One side of the blade was now longer than the other, resulting in a diagonal tip at the end of the narrower blade, regal yet razor sharp. Percy found himself drawn to it, walking forwards.

"Incredible." Tartarus breathed next to him.

"What's happened to it?" Percy asked, practically forgetting who he was with.

"You tell me." Tartarus replied. "It smells familiar."

Percy frowned thoughtfully. What smelt like Tartarus? Everything smelt like Tartarus down here, the clouds, the rocks, the rivers. Like a cross between the metallic stench of blood and Gabe's breath. Percy pulled a face, slightly unsure, as some pieces connected in his head.

"I... I think it's been in all five rivers down here. Like the sword itself." Percy said. "I melted parts of it together in the Phlegthon to make it... I must have still had the water of the Cocytus when I took it in the first place... I fell into the Styx with it when I got my blessing... When I crossed the Acheron, I couldn't control it for long, little drops hit me every now and then... And it was just dipped into the Lethe by Krios. Why?" Percy turned to Tartarus. "Why has it changed?"

"It has been so long... I thought it would never be fulfilled." Tartarus said, facing away from both Koios and Percy.

"There was once talk among myself and my siblings, before all the nonsense with our children and grandchildren. Of a weapon, forged below the depths of the underworld itself, burnished in the five rivers of death."

"We speculated... We never made it ourselves in case it was used against us... But the things we suspected a weapon like that could do... Soul destruction. Scattering. Energy channeling. As if the mere sight of it could drive away enemies." Tartarus snorted humourlessly, and Percy felt an icy chill run down his spine.

It sounded like something he had heard before, and it was confirmed as Tartarus continued.

"Only one of our children knew of this."

At this, Tartarus unsheathed his sword and slowly turned around.

"And he was given a scythe." He said.

Percy didn't move.

Of course.

Kronos.

Gaia had made it for him, only she could have known how to make a weapon that powerful.

"What Kronos' mortal host described as steel and bronze was actually Adamantine, the unbreakable metal that the gates of Tartarus themselves are forged with. That sword there should not exist." Tartarus pointed to it with disgust. "Adamantine, the Greeks called it, Adamas, meaning 'untameable'. Uncontrollable. Limitless."

"The last weapon like that destroyed Ouranous." Tartarus mused.

No one moved for a few seconds.

They were locked in a stare-off, the Adamantine sword in the middle of the triangle. So that was it's name, Percy reflected. Adamas, uncontrollable, like Anaklusmos, riptide.

Koios raised his hands slowly in a placating manner. Both Tartarus and Percy looked at him with hatred. The titan quailed under their glares, but carried on regardless, though his voice broke a little.

"Now, now, there's no need to do all of this. I've dealt with Kronos before, I'm sure that we can find a way to-"

Both Tartarus and Percy saw it coming, and lunged too.

It was a mad grab of hands, claws, and shifting terrain.

Koios' fingers curled around it first, and Tartarus pulled back his sword.

Percy held out a fist and clenched.

Koios' arm came up to block the blow, and his wild eyes met Percy's.

"No-" Koios choked, but Percy closed his mouth for him.

Tartarus swung again, and Percy pulled Koios out of the way.

He was controlling Koios' body, like a puppet on a string, each movement syncing up to his own.

As Percy parried, Koios parried, mimicking his movement, a sick little dance they did together as the primordial God attacked, the Lethe roaring louder and louder on one side, dust pouring down the glassy black cliffs on the other, and the haze of red smoke growing thicker above.

The strain in Percy's skull was intense, eyes burning, body aching.

Tartarus had not taken a body in so long, he wasn't defeatable, nowhere close, but he was fightable, and fight him Percy did.

He could tell Tartarus thought this would be easy, swinging his heavy sword around, ready to disarm Koios, but he'd be damned if he was going down without a fight, and, Hades, when had he ever made anything easy?

Percy swung an arm out, and Koios mirrored him, slicing Adamas through the air, Tartarus jumping backwards.

Tartarus kicked Koios in the chest, a blow that would have shattered Percy's rib cage but only made the titan stumble, locked firmly under Percy's control.

It was a spectacle to behold.

Tartarus, face twisting and howling, bringing his thick and dangerous sword down again and again and again, the faces in his armour pressed against it and screaming their throats out, the primordial moving as fluidly as the torturous rivers that the blood soaked cavern around them contained.

But right next to him was Koios, his frantic eyes rolling in his head as Percy commandeered his body, forcing him to contort and strike, on the defence but never on the run, thick arms leaking ichor from where he was struck rising and falling like the tide, swinging Adamas in a style that echoed how his younger brother Kronos wielded such a weapon of death.

Their swords clashed and sang, flashing bare with clangs like thunder.

Percy was panting now, sweat dripping out of every pore, duelling with a ferocity that was equally matched. The longer they fought, the more accustomed to his body Tartarus would get; Percy had to end it but controlling Koios was all he could do, every muscle in his body screaming.

He could see the toll it was taking on Koios; liquid gold dripped out of his eyes, his ears, his nose and mouth. He hadn't opened his eyes in several long minutes. Controlling such a large body as Koios felt like Percy was fighting in a suit of armour on stilts.

The two locked blades, pushing with enough force to level a mountain, and Percy was right there with them straining, clenching his teeth as he yelled.

The two swords shook, and Percy focused on Adamas, feeling every inch of the blade soaked in the rivers, dripping with ichor he had put there, his own blood as well, and a wetness trickled rapidly out his nose as he pushed one layer of water to the surfaced.

Adamas glowed a fiery orange, the Phlegthon crawling for dominance over all the others, and the sword glowed.

A hissing noise filled the cliff edge, shaking the boulders that framed their battle, and it began to slowly sink into the sword of Tartarus, like acid eating away at it.

Tartarus pulled back, ripped his sword away, and Adamas swung down, slitting a tiny line across Tartarus' armour and a feather light cut into the skin beneath, a couple drops of black ichor falling onto the sword.

Smoke began to pour out, and Percy pushed Koios to the side as the smoke began to manifest around them, taking the familiar forms of the faces Percy had seen imprisoned in Tartarus' armour.

Tartarus lifted his sword, preoccupied with the enemies of his past, roaring as he ripped through them, but they were appearing as quickly as he could kill them, millenniums of rivals waiting to escape and get revenge.

Percy glanced to Koios, whose eyes were now slightly open, but not focusing.

The power had been too much, and Percy had already invaded his body throwing around his ichor carelessly to make him obey his commands. On some level pushed far down, Percy knew he should feel guilty, ashamed, even horrified at his actions.

But he didn't.

Percy took one look at the broken and soulless titan below him, still choking a little on his own ichor, who had tortured him, dragged him across Tartarus in chains, and forced him to fight for his life, and he just felt satisfied.

No happiness, no remaining bloodthirst, just pure and raw satisfaction.

His eyes swept over the brutalised titan, and he nodded to himself. It was done.

Anyone who ever said that revenge doesn't make someone feel better lied.

The ichor spreading rapidly below his body probably meant he'd be dead soon anyway. Percy certainly wasn't going to put him out of his misery.

He pulled Adamas out his limp grip, and his drakon bone sword, took one look at the brain dead titan and the slashing primordial still bellowing his name, turned, ran, and leapt off the side of the cliff.

The Lethe caught him, and Percy quickly made it so he wouldn't lose his memories, swimming quickly to the other bank, and he began sprinting.

He made it to the Lethe.

It should be around here.

Thanatos should have put the elevator here.

Percy felt sick as he kept running, parts of the rocks shooting out like razor sharp stalagmites, probably Tartarus trying to trap him while he dealt with his demons, but Percy slid under it, just kept running.

It suddenly hit him how stupid this was. He was relying on the gods, yet again. And were they here? No. Would they ever just be reliable for once? He was overly aware that if he couldn't find the elevator, he would most certainly die. Would he come back, in a golden bubble, another monster like the rest of them?

Percy dodged a flying shard of glass, and changed direction, heading right, trying to get out of the direct eyeline of Tartarus. Gods sake, where was it?

He didn't know if he could keep running: he was in so much pain, so much exhaustion, he felt black dots crowding around the edges of his eyes, molding with the tears that sprung up out of sheer frustration and fear.

He couldn't die.

He couldn't.

Not now.

He could hurt Gaia with this sword. He could make her bleed. And whatever could bleed could die. And then he'd be free. Free to grab Annabeth and his mum and his friends and go to Alaska for a month or two. No gods, no monsters, no nothing.

Percy cried out in anger as he met a cliff face that seemed to stretch forever. Behind him, stalactites and stalagmites shot out of everywhere, pinning him in, trapping him, like easy prey.

"No!" Percy punched the cliff, "No, no, no, no, no!"

This couldn't be the end, it couldn't. He tucked his drakon bone sword through his belt loop, taking out Riptide, the warm glow making him want to throw up for the first time. He glanced over his shoulder, just as a large red stalagmite erupted from the ground about a foot away, needle sharp.

Percy breathed in.

Then, with a battle cry, he drove Adamas straight into the cliff face.

A cry echoed in the far distance, then very faint but thundering footsteps of something coming, not that Percy could see much through the thorny maze that was still sprouting around him, nearly blocking out the already limited light.

He drove Riptide into the stone too, and pulled himself up, every nerve in his body searing in white hot pain.

He breathed out.

He could do this.

After all, he'd done it before.

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Oh man I'm actually so bummed rn, my teacher finally emailed me back my results for English, and I was two marks off a 9! Two! Marks! But because she emailed me back so late, I've missed the deadline for the remarks. Don't get me wrong, an 8 is lovely, but a 9... A 9 implies sheer perfection. That power is delicious, ladies. Alas. Not for me :(

Also yall I got so drunk last night I: broke a spoon, kissed probably more than three people, blew a blood vessel in my eye, bruised my entire self and did the cha cha slide. Didn't throw up either, I can hold my liquor like a champ.