Chapter 1: Capture and Ambush

This chapter is rated M for: Violence, Gore, and Explicit Language

A/N To enjoy this fanfic to it's fullest, one should know the PJO universe up the Blood of Olympus.

I don't do disclaimers. This is FANFICTION after all.

The mist had fallen. Hecate had faded during the second giant war trying to save one of her children from Gration's blade, and with her, went the mist. The demigods expected the mortals to maybe acknowledge the existence of children of higher deities. But, alas the mortals never realized that the Greek world existed right underneath their noses. And as for the gods? They had sealed Olympus, allowing no one in or out.

The fateful night after the battle, mortal helicopters approached four different locations, Camp Half-Blood, Camp Jupiter, a camp in Yellowstone Park, and the Empire State building. The demigods noticed, of course, but with little to no weaponry that could harm mortals. They were quickly apprehended and dragged into the helicopters. And with their anomalous cargo, they went back from where they came, into the night. The gods saw this of course, but then again they couldn't interfere with the mortal world unless they were challenged or it had something to do with their domains. But with Olympus on lockdown. The gods couldn't do anything even if they were allowed. The whole of the Empire state building was closed under the guise of renovations. And Camp Half-Blood was bought by a company which grew strawberries. Camp Jupiter was turned claimed by the U.S government and overnight turned into a U.S military base. Life continued as normal for the mortals, not noticing a thing amiss about their daily lives.

The blindfolded and handcuffed demigods were chained to the wall of the helicopters. After what felt like an eternity to the dyslexic children of the gods. An explosion was heard, the demigods that were bound next to the newly formed hole were dead from shrapnel, the luckier ones either having debilitating injuries or a few scratches. What was felt throughout the whole of the group was biting cold, and a ringing in their ears. The helicopter had begun to spiral towards the ground. And, eventually, it did slam into the cold and hard dirt. Helicopters that were leaving from Camp Jupiter were also hit.

In one of the two helicopters in Yellowstone park, a voice could be heard speaking, albeit muffled. "Retrieval to site command, a freak storm is forming in our flight path, advise, over." What the reply was though, the hunters could not hear. Soon after both of the helicopters peeled off the right of where they were originally headed, and soon after had landed in the middle of a field next to several armored vehicles. The ramp at the end of the helicopters had opened, letting moonlight and the bitter winds of that night leak through. One of the men grabbed a hunter by the shoulders, and was about to drag her to one the vehicles when she thought it wise to exclaim: "Do not touch me, you filthy and perverted male." She was promptly gagged, kicked to her knees and dragged to and armored vehicle, and then her arms and legs were bound to the floor. This process occurred with the rest of the hunters. Even though they had not seen it, they had heard their fellow hunter speak out against these men, and heard what happened afterward. They thought it wise to neither speak nor struggle against their captors. After filling the vehicles with the huntresses. The helicopters flew off, and not soon thereafter, brilliant fireworks lit up the night sky as the helicopters deployed flares, but it was for naught, the missiles had hit their targets, sending the helicopters crashing into the ground. But the captives did not know of this, for they were already far away from the site of the ambush.

Bodies were sprawled around the crash site, pained groans and hoarse yelling could be heard from those that were still alive, none were uninjured. One could see the pilot's and co-pilot's heads slumped against the cracked glass. They were without a doubt, dead. A few had survived the crash. Among the burning wreckage a green-eyed male teen with a large piece of metal in his left leg, he was bleeding profusely from his left leg. But there were also cuts on his face and arms. They were also bleeding, to a lesser extent than his leg, but still bleeding nonetheless. His arms were no longer bound, but the shackles still attached to his hands, with the chain broken in the middle.

He was on the floor, with his back to the ground. He moved both of his hands to the jagged edge of the piece of metal stuck in his leg. He pulled with all his strength upon it, causing it to fall out and him to scream in pain. Immediately after the shrapnel was removed, he reached into his pocket for a golden brown cube and shoved it in his mouth, chewing and then swallowing.

He pushed himself onto his feet, he was the only one standing among the hundreds that Camp Half-Blood and the ones that had captured him. He surveyed his surroundings, taking in the destruction that had occurred. Then he spotted a girl with blond hair and grey eyes. Wide-eyed, he limped over as fast as he could and pulled her up into a sitting position. Her right eye was swollen, and she was bleeding for a piece of metal in her stomach, a pool of blood had formed on the floor next to her. She gave the son of Poseidon a weak smile.

"I've lost too much blood, the fates have decreed, my time on this earth is over."

"No, no, no, no, NO!" He said, his voice crescendoing near the end.

"Before you go, did you love me?" She asked softly.

"As a friend and a sister." He said.

She nodded. "Now shoo, let me die in peace."

A gunshot rang out from the other helicopter crash. He could hear one of them yell: "We are the church of the broken god, pray for a swift end, infidels." Green eyes flicked to several men next to the one which had spoken, they were all wielding firearms, they were procedurally shooting the bodies on the floor to make sure they were dead.

He would not stand for the desecration or systematic murder of his friends and family. In his anger, a hurricane formed around his body, and his right eye glowed an ethereal green. But his left eye was completely black, even the sclera. The men from the church of the broken god looked up in trepidation at the enraged demigod in front of them.

Seeing his friends and family die awoke a power buried within him. One which was They all opened fire. One would assume that this was the end of Percy Jackson, but with the hurricane already formed around him, the fierce winds swatted the pieces of lead out of the air. And those that did hit buried themselves into his body, piercing his flesh, and coming out the other side. He then proceeded to decapitate the man closest to him, causing blood to spray out of where his head once sat. His right hand had turned into a spear made of darkness. He proceeded to gut or chop the rest of the men, lead was still being pumped into his body, but he ignored it.

After the last man fell to the ground, headless. He also fell to the floor, succumbing to his wounds, Perseus Jackson, Defeater of Gaia, Slayer of Kronos, Bane of Giants and many other titles, fell to the ground dead.

A/N Obviously he isn't dead, there will be Chaos in this story, but he will not be blessing Percy, nor will Chaos be the good guy. Here are a few hints for you guys. Percy is the son of two elder gods from the SCP universe, his father has quite a lot of the number seven in the article. If anybody can guess a few things about Percy I'll answer one question about the story no matter what the question is. If you think you may know please private message it to me. If you spot any mistakes, please leave a review and let me know. This is also my first fanfiction. Constructive criticism is appreciated. But flames will be used to make blue cookies.

Updates probably every week. Maybe two weeks if I'm lazy. Blame Escape from Tarkov for being so addicting.