A/N: Hey all, back with another chapter, and a finale at that! We're wrapping up Samson's story this chapter. I've actually really liked writing this one, the whole inception dream memory shit is really fun, and writing about ye old antiquated times is pretty fun even if they're just small cameos about past events. Plus, writing just a teeny bit about the first Titan war was pretty fun. RIP those monsters that Zeus killed who were totally on his side. Oh well, when it comes to the Gods people dying isn't really that big of a deal. Enjoy the wrapup.
Mistakes have been made, Samson isn't too proud to admit that. He learned the way to fight the cacodemon, and for the first few moments of ambushing the creature with his Sunburst spell worked out pretty good. Well, that only lasted for a few moments as the smoky demon reacted with such violent force Samson felt himself starting to fucking panic.
The demon fought back with much ferocity and desperation. It grabbed chunks of floating debris and launched it like cannon balls. It grabbed Samson and smashed him into small islands over and over until the very floating landmass it broken into chunks before it throws Samson away like garbage. And the whole time the demon did not stop its attack one bit. Every second it hounded Samson with more and more violent beatings, never giving him a chance to even get his bearings before attacking him once again.
Samson felt like the brutal beating went on for hours, when in reality it was only a couple of minutes. With a brief second of pause before another beat down, Samson throws his hands out and summons the biggest blast of light he can muster in his damaged state. The shadowy cacodemon hisses and shrieks in pain from the blinding light and retreats away, flying at blinding speeds and disappearing somewhere far off in the horizon. Samson collapses down on the destroyed island he crashed to and gasps and pants from exhaustion and pain.
He lies there still for several long minutes, Ram in his pocket slowly starts healing his surely broken bones and soothing his sore and bruised body. The only reason he wasn't smashed into mush is entirely because he has a godly body, and even then he feels like the demon could've throttled him to bits if left to it, and Samson would've been completely at its mercy!
Yeah, he really fucked up being confident like that. Never. again.
"So... that could've gone better."
You think?!
"Oh don't give me that sass! I didn't think it would be that strong either so don't get snappy! You spooked it off with your light but clearly that's not enough. Hyperion likely lost some of his power killing the other demons, and that was back when he was at his height. We need a weapon, something that has the power to kill this monster without us having to sacrifice our own already minuscule strength. I say we hop through some memories and see if we can find something strong. Personally I'd like for us to snag a copy of the Master Bolt. No way in Hades that wouldn't kill this thing no problem if the memory of its power was strong enough to knock us into another dimension!"
Yeah, makes sense. Clearly taking this creature on by themselves was a very big mistake, and once again Samson finds himself being punished for his pride. Whether this is the work of the Fates or just happenstance he does not know. All that he does know is that he tends to get his ass kicked when he gets prideful and full of himself.
Damn.
Thankfully his wings were damaged during the fight as he folded them back into the pack, and Daedalus was smart enough to use celestial bronze as the actual casing. He unfolds the wings and pumps off the ground, controlling his emotions to hide himself from the Cacodemon and sets off in search of another memory portal. He found one and quickly dived in, praying whatever memory he ends up in has something useful as a weapon.
As it turns out, Samson's bad luck turned into something worse than bad really fast. Horrible luck? Terrible luck? God forsaken and cursed by the Devil luck? Maybe those aren't strong enough to describe the place he ended up in because fuck this is a fucked memory.
Here, standing, bleeding, dying on a torn asunder Olympus is Percy looking like he's about to die, Annabeth fucking bleeding out on the goddamn floor, and the Goddamn Titan Lord in the body of a misbegotten demigod himself. He wasn't around for these events, but talking with the people who were then this was one of the greatest, most terrible moments of the Second Titan War. The moment hope was almost destroyed completely, but also the moment everyone really lost a piece of themselves.
Kronos faces down Percy as he drops someone Samson doesn't know down a massive fissure to his certain death. The wind howls cruelly, a presence of the utmost evil permeates the entire divine mountain and the massive, toothy sneer of the Titan Lord is almost too much. Samson feels like collapsing and wallowing in suffering, and it's only thanks to the natural anti-enchanting properties of his divinely-imbued Jacket that keeps him from giving up hope.
How Percy, Annabeth and Grover were able to face the Titan Lord and not shit and piss themselves in fear he doesn't know as he's a half second away from doing to himself right now.
The sheer evil is just so indescribable, not just from the presence of Kronos but from the situation playing out before him. He so desperately wants to join and fight, anything to help the desperation of the situation, but he can't. This is just a memory, something that's already come and passed. All he can do is watch and try and find hollow comfort in the knowledge that things worked out in the end.
He hopes, at least. Basically the same shit happens again like maybe a year later with the Giants.
"It's too late, Percy Jackson," The Titan Lord says with utter surety. His voice is strong, booming like the loudest speaker and filled with a disgusting amount of confidence, "Behold."
He points at a hearth nearby, and for several seconds nothing happens. Suddenly, everything just stops. Literally. Sound, the wind, Percy, Annabeth and Grover, even the burning of the coals. Time has frozen, but for whatever reason Samson can still move like everything is normal. His eyes lock onto the back of the Titan-possessed Boys head and feels his blood turn to ice as the eerie glow emanating from his eyes turn slowly. The harsh, burning eyes turn and meet his directly, leaving no doubt in his mind that Kronos is looking at Samson.
His grin turns to a sneer of sheer annoyance. The Titan turns and points his sword at Samson, turning the blade into a bone chilling Scythe filled with nothing but chaos and the promise of a painful death.
Samson gulps nervously and reaches into his pocket, slowly taking his condensed Spear from his pocket just in case this memory of Kronos somehow attacks Samson. His mind races, trying to figure out how the Titan Lord is aware of his presence. This is only a memory, so why is it that the Crooked One is clearly aware of Samson being here!
Suddenly, a pit forms in his stomach and he feels sweat start rolling down his face, it's finally clicked. This world was created from the destruction of Kronos, his very essence imprinted into this world, and here is a memory of that power, a coalition of it trapped as a memory until something new comes to interrupt the natural trap. And that something is Samson.
Oh no, he's fucked up bad. He's made the memory aware!.
"And who is this? A newcomer? Not someone I'm familiar with. No matter, you'll not disrupt my victory, minor god!"
In a blink of an eye the Titan Lord is on him, slashing his scythe in a big arc hoping to sever his head. Samson barely manages to duck the attack and jump back with the support of his wings giving him a greater jump. Samson's full on panicking as he fumbles to bring his Dragonslayer Spear out just in time to block another, devastating blow from the scythe.
His arms burn with exertion as he pushes back from the sheer might of the Titan Lord. Even limited to a demigod body Kronos' might is like Atlas or Hercules. So unbelievably overpowering that even having the body of a god is barely enough to parry an attack. Samson has no chance at all of a full on block, it would likely break his arms off if he tried!
He parries another fairly sloppy blow and follows through with a repost only to watch in horror as it bounces off his shoulder like lead. He curses and jumps back from a follow up swipe, sweat pouring down his face as he searches for the telltale glow of an object indicating the exit from this awful memory!
"Curious. You're not some skill-less deity after all. Even my powers seem to have no effect! Well done, enchanter! Few can accomplish a counter to my power, but it matters not. I am indestructible. Nothing you can do will harm me, and in a matter of moments I shall be created anew, full of my glory in all its might! Surrender to your fate now and make this easy. I've still a duel to attend to and that brat must feel despair before I kill him for good!"
Samson's eyes dart about the trashed throne room, and there lying by the bloody Annabeth is a faintly shimmering dagger. Upon seeing it he points his hand at the Crooked One and quickly flashes a bright beam of Sunlight into his face. Kronos hisses and covers his eyes from the blinding light, and instantly he bolts past the Titan and breaks for the dagger.
Just before he reaches Annabeth, a chill runs down his spine and he ducks his head just barely in time to dodge the cold, biting metal of the scythe. It takes off the ends of his air, and even just the touch of it sends a bolt of cold, crackling misery coursing through his body.
He comes to a slide just passed Annabeth's form, and just opposite of her is the grinning lord of the Titans. He holds his cruel scythe in one hand and idly taps it against his other palm, casually waiting for Samson to make another move. Despite being casual, Samson gets the feeling the next attack will absolutely be the one Kronos intends to kill him with.
"Samson! We have to get that dagger at all costs! The more time that passes the stronger he gets! Once we leave the memory will reset like this never happened, but we have to get out!"
Samson looks at the dagger lying by Annabeth. It's barely ten feet away from him, and ten feet beyond that is Kronos grinning at him, not moving but even then Samson knows the deception of his speed. He can move as fast as the blink of an eye. If he's going to have any chance of getting that dagger, he needs to bait Kronos into attacking the way he wants too.
With a foolishly idiotic plan in mind, Samson adopts a sprinter's stance and opens his wings into a position ready to give him a tremendous boost of speed. It takes a second for objects to kick Samson out of a memory, so when he gets that dagger he's going to end up right in the Titan's attack, and likely kill range.
Mind set and readied, Samson enacts his plan. He pushes off the ground and pumps his wings, launching him like a spear directly at Kronos. Just as he flies over Annabeth he reaches out and snatches the dagger! Then, a piercing, shrill cry escapes from his lips as the tip of Kronos' Scythe pierces directly through Samson's supposedly indestructible jacket. His golden Ichor leaks from the wound, spilling beneath his feet as weight like the sky crashes down upon him. In a flash his free hand shoots up and grabs the pole of the Scythe, using all of his quickly waning might to prevent the blade from sliding in any deeper into his shoulder.
Slowly his vision goes white, and Samson can only hope that it's because he's leaving the memory and not because he's being killed by the power channeling through the immortal-killing scythe.
Everything goes blank, and Samson worries this really is the end for him.
His eyes shoot open, a startled gasp escapes from his lips as Samson feels the wind flowing around him. The wind is knocked from his lungs as his body collides with a flat patch of island, and for several long minutes he can only stare wide eyed into the constellation filled sky as his body recovers from the shock and pain of such an unbelievably awful experience, even if it was only a minute or so.
The wound he received from Kronos is very much real, and for a second Samson worries the legends of the Scythe's ability to prevent healing is true, but just in time the magic born from the Golden Fleece washes over the wound, clearing out the corrupting influence of the weapon and slowly sealing the wound. Knowing how the Scythe is a special weapon, Samson guesses he's going to forever have a scar on his left shoulder that even with the purification of the fleece will still have problems likely for all of his eternal life.
Something heavy lands to a thud in the ground next to him, and Samson feels his eyes widen as he turns to look and sees the Scythe of the Titan Kronos laying quietly in the grass next to him. A primal part of his soul worries the weapon is going to come to life and start slashing at him again, but he pushes the illogical worries from his mind and pushes himself onto his knees with his good arm, almost collapsing forward as it buckles.
He curses at his exhausted, likely fractured 'good' arm, but fights through the pain and crawls towards the Scythe. He grabs it, feeling a disgusting feeling rolling around in his stomach as he does, and pushes himself to stand with it.
Samson leans against his makeshift cane and pants in a mixture of pain and exhaustion as he waits for the Cacodemon to appear. He's certain that it will. After all, what better time to kill your prey than when it's weak and exhausted? Unfortunate for it, he's armed with something Samson is absolutely certain will kill the emon for good.
"It's no Master Bolt, but Kronos' Scythe will fuck the demon up quickly. Look, here it comes."
He looks up in the air and watches blandly as a shadowy mass appears over the edge of a high flying island. It races towards him, shadows bulging and swirling amongst the mass as it races towards him with an awful, ear splitting scream. Sighing, Samson beats his wings and flies up to meet the demon. One arm limp to his side, Samson uses his sore arm to swing the Scythe up, and just as the shadows reach him he throws his arm down.
The sound the shrieks from the demon is nigh indescribable. The pain, torment and suffering is something no words can explain, only a person there can truly describe how terrible the sound. The shadows part before the Scythe, and to Samson's surprise they start to burn away. Not giving any pause, Samson swings the weapon again, electing another scream.
More and more cuts and slashes cause more and more of the demon to burn away into nothingness. Now barely bigger than a soccer ball, the remaining mass of the demon pulses slowly like a weak heart as it floats lazily in the air. Samson raises the Scyte again for the killing blow and he watches sadly as the demon seems to quiver before him. It cowers, the pulses in the heart beating more rapidly but only just barely. Feeling slightly bad, Samson brings the blade down and finishes it off for good. The last of the demon burns away, just as the last of Samson's strength leaves his body.
The Scythe drops from his hand, and the wings stop beating as his eyes roll into the back of his head and unconsciousness takes him.
Samson groans as he slowly blinks his eyes open. His vision returns to him, and looking around Samson finds himself lying on the floor in the center of a familiar temple. He sighs and pushes himself upright, wincing from the pain flaring in his shoulder. He cups it instinctively and is surprised when he feels bandage fabric underneath his shirt. His jacket is gone, but he finds himself more relieved to be safe than worried about his missing jacket.
"You've done well, Samson." His Mother's voice distracts him from his mild distress. He turns and looks at her as she approaches, donned in her 'fancy' regalia she always wears on Olympus. She comes to his side and offers him a hand to help him stand. He takes it, almost tumbling from his wobbly legs but control returns quickly and he stands on his own.
Athena hands him his jacket, and just glancing he can see that she's sealed the cut in the fabric. He looks at the jacket in confusion, wondering how she was able to sow almost indestructible fabric back together.
"I'm quite surprised. I never thought you'd come across a blade capable of parting the fabric. No matter, I am the Goddess of Weaving, it was simple reattaching the fibers back together again. I felt the destruction of the entity and went to pull you from that horrible world, and too my surprise I pull you out bloodied and wreaking of your Great Grandfather's evil. I do not know what you experienced in that realm but know that I am proud you faced such evil victoriously."
Samson looks down at his feet silently, not reacting like he usually would to Athena's praise. She watches him carefully and tilts her head to the side.
"Samson?" She says carefully. In a flash she's taken aback in disgust as he wraps his arms around her. She almost summons her spear to stab him instinctively, but remembers quickly that 'hugs' are something many use as a sign of affection. Stiffly and awkwardly, she brings her arms down and half pats, half hugs her near weeping son.
"Mother... I saw a memory of Zeus's wrath in that world. You saved me from such an awful, horrible fate. I've always held a small amount of despise for you, but knowing what you saved me from I have so much more love and respect for you now. Mom... thank you."
Athena doesn't respond, but deep in her heart a small piece of her is glad that her son appreciates what she sacrificed for his safety. Not that she'll tell anyone that, she has her pride after all. But still, she supposes that it's (nice?) acceptable to be held so highly by her favorite son.
The two of them stay like that for a long time, and though most would think the scene is awkward, to the mother and son this is the closest they've ever been, and they both find pleasantness in one another's awkward embrace.