Percy sighed and massaged his temples as he wondered what the hell he was doing with his life. Currently, he was following a complete stranger—someone he'd never met before in his life—to an unknown destination. He hadn't even asked for her name. There were enough horror stories out there to know how this situation ended.
Perhaps he was thinking with the head downstairs and not his rational side. It wouldn't be the first time, since the woman was attractive after all. At that thought, Percy's eyes drifted downwards...
No, he chastised himself. Don't think like that. Besides, he was already in a committed relationship. One that had no room for a third person. Annabeth would kill him if she found out he was eyeing up someone else.
His heart wrenched painfully at the thought of what had happened to his girlfriend. At what Zeus had done to her. Even now, it took every ounce of his self-control not to storm up to Olympus and challenge the god himself. Confident in his abilities he was, but arrogant he was not. Percy knew he wouldn't stand a chance against the king of the sky, let alone the lackeys that would be thrown at him. For that, he would need to be stronger, faster, and more cunning than he'd ever been. Anything less, and he was guaranteed to fail, just as his long-dead brother had done before him.
His thoughts returned to the strange woman as she led him through the bustling, unfamiliar city. Who was she? Where was she taking him? And how did she know his name? Percy's grip on Riptide tightened in his pocket. He couldn't rule out the possibility that the woman was another monster luring him to his death.
And if she was, then…
He would have to kill her.
Percy paused and blinked owlishly as the woman stopped in her tracks and held open the door to what looked like a void of pure darkness. Even though it was daytime outside, the inside seemed to suck in all light, letting none of it escape. It looked like a pit leading to Tartarus.
"Um, excuse me," Percy asked, eyeing the darkness warily. "What are we doing, exactly?"
The woman turned around and favored him with a smile. "We're just going to meet with, well, me," she said cheerfully before continuing her march forward.
He had no clue what the hell that meant.
Percy swallowed the lump in his throat as he crossed the threshold into the room. He only had a few seconds to regret his decision before the door slammed shut behind him and his world was painted in darkness.
The first thing Reyna noticed when she entered Camp Half-Blood was the dour mood. It hung in the air like a thick fog, painting her normally festive second home an obvious contrast. The grim faces and near-complete silence of her surroundings depicted a scene eerily similar to how things were after the war.
At first, she thought it was because summer break—their freedom—was ending. Such thoughts were common against the younger campers who had learned to hate mortal schools. But as time passed, and she began to see even the older campers affected by the mystery. It was apparent that the underlying cause was something more sinister than it appeared.
Had the camp been attacked? It would certainly explain the burned grass and ruined landscape outside of the place. But who could have the strength and mindset to do such a thing?
As Reyna walked through the area, she noticed that most of the buildings were in impeccable shape and not one person bore any obvious injuries. If something had attacked, they'd done a terrible job at it. Either that, or there was no attack at all. Judging from the signs and evidence so far, she was willing to bet on the latter.
So what was wrong?
Reyna set her sights on the Big House. Something was seriously wrong here and she was determined to figure it out. Chiron would have all of the answers needed to do so.
The sight that greeted her when she opened the door was Chiron standing around a table speaking in hushed whispers to, who she could only assume, were the Camp's counselors. His face was grim and serious as he spoke, but paused when he saw her.
"Ah, Reyna," Chiron welcomed her, dismissing everyone else. She could see the tears and looks of fear on their faces as they passed. "What a pleasant surprise. Everything is well over at Camp Jupiter I presume?"
Reyna nodded. "Yes," she answered with a sigh, brushing away a stray lock of hair. "Although I'm starting to grow tired of the responsibility. Sometimes I wish I could just...lie down and forget about everything for even a week."
Chiron gave her a look of sympathy. "I know the feeling well," he said fondly. "I have often thought of retiring and living out the rest of my days as a mortal. Only time will tell if that thought blossoms into reality."
A snort almost blew past Reyna's lips. She couldn't imagine seeing Chiron as anything but a teacher. The man was as old and wise as they came and had been training heroes since forever. A replacement just wouldn't feel the same.
Chiron gave a small smile. "Do what your heart instructs you to do," he advised sagely. "If your instincts say to pursue the finer aspects of life, then do so. You are young, not even in the the adult stage of your journey. There is still so much to be seen and done before you get to grow even a fraction as old as I."
Reyna looked down thoughtfully at that, silently pondering the suggestion. After some time, found that she agreed with her equal-in-standing.
The days that had followed the war with Gaea had been among the most stressful and mind-numbingly frustrating of her entire life. Dealing with the fallout of Octavian's bold insurrection and seizure of power, keeping certain government factions and slimy politicians in check, improving relations damaged by their over-ambitiousness. Her peer and friend, Frank was still inexperienced in the realm of politics and leadership. That meant that the brunt of the work had fallen to her. A task, that was slowly starting to drive her up the wall.
Perhaps it was time to hand power over to someone else. To find her calling in something besides surrounding herself with bureaucracy and politics in her every waking moment.
At the thought of a successor, one candidate immediately came to mind. Hazel was ready. She had been for a while now, but Reyna hadn't wanted to pass the torch just yet, still stubbornly believing that her place with her people. She couldn't think of anyone besides her immediate friends, two of which had already turned her down, that was fit enough to take the role. The maturing relationship between Hazel and Frank would also make for some interesting compatibility. The position of Praetorship worked at its best when the two leaders agreed with each other, i.e were romantically involved or otherwise had a deep bond. That way, it would promote unification and trustworthiness in the government and prevent the rise of factions who wanted nothing but to further their own ambitions.
Reyna nodded internally. It was settled then. When Hazel returned from her training with Hecate, she would make it official. Gods, even the mere thought of retiring was enough to make her shiver in anticipation. It felt like an immense weight had been lifted from her shoulders.
She turned to Chiron, who was idly writing a report of some kind, and asked the one question which was the entire purpose of her visit. "Where are Annabeth and Percy" she inquired. "They were supposed to call me when they were about to leave."
Reyna didn't miss the way Chiron froze at the question. His hand stilled, pen falling from it and expression wavering, before slowly raising his head to look at her. After considering his words carefully, he hesitantly answered.
"There has been...an incident," Chiron said slowly, forebodingly. He spun on his heels and motioned with his hands. "Follow me."
Reyna stared at the retreating man's back in bewilderment for a few moments before rushing to follow after him. When she tried to ask what was the matter, Chiron ignored her and continued his march towards an unknown destination. Eventually, after a few vain attempts, she gave up completely and followed in silence. The nagging feeling that something was amiss only continued to grow from there.
It was a handful of seconds before they stopped at a set of double doors, leading into a blindingly white room. She heard Chiron take a deep breath and steel himself before pushing onward.
The sharp smell of antiseptics assaulting her nose, coupled along with the beeping of machinery told Reyna exactly where they were. But her focus wasn't on those things or even why Chiron had brought her here. No, it was on the dozen or so hospital beds that lie in the room. All of them were empty, except for one.
"Annabeth!" Reyna shouted in panic, rushing forward. Her friend was barely recognizable beneath the mountain of bandages she'd been wrapped in. Only the small sliver of her forehead and eye that was uncovered gave it away. If not for that, she might have well been a mummified stranger.
Reyna knelt beside the bed, taking Annabeth's hand in hers as tears began to pool in her eyes. She could see the burns, even underneath the bandages. Annabeth looked like a burned steak that had been covered in fancy toppings, as if that would hide anything. The harsh staccato of the heart monitor was the only indication the girl was even clinging to life.
"What happened?" she asked, quiet and hoarse.
Chiron pulled a chair from the far side of the room and moved to sit next to her. He looked despondent, she noticed, at seeing his student. The man had known Annabeth longer than she had. It had to have been tough for him to see her in such a shape.
"It is...a far-fetched story," Chiron began slowly. "One I still cannot believe myself. But, if you wish to hear it, then I suppose I can reveal the truth."
Reyna nodded tearfully. She wanted to hear everything. Hear what had caused her friend, one of the strongest and smartest people she knew, to be rendered bedridden like this.
As Chiron carefully recited the events leading up to—to this, her frown grew more and more thunderous the more he explained. It was no secret that the gods cared nothing for their children, or at least, not as much as they should. But to be callous enough to strike one of the heroes who had aided them the most over a mere disagreement amongst themselves? She felt her respect for Jupiter—Zeus—plummet as she listened on.
Chiron seemed sincere in his tale and Reyna could detect no falsities from the man—a useful skill that she'd picked up from Aurum and Argentium. That meant everything he was saying was true, no matter how absurd it sounded.
She almost couldn't believe it.
A tangible sense of dread began to build in her chest as she thought of the future. It wasn't unreasonable to consider the possibility that war was on the horizon now, after an important and beloved daughter of Athena was attacked by someone who should've been her ally. That was like attacking the goddess of wisdom herself directly—a cause for conflict if she'd ever heard one.
"Why hasn't Annabeth been healed yet?" Reyna asked, breaking the heavy silence. She knew Camp Half-Blood was in possession of a plethora of skilled healers and magical items—the Golden Fleece among them. Even the most uneducated of children had heard of the item said to be able to heal all but the most grievous of wounds. Its power was even enough to fool Satyrs—the most attuned to nature—into thinking that it was the deceased god of the wild. Why hadn't they used it yet?
Chiron looked down at her solemnly. "We were cautioned by Apollo to only treat her physical wounds," he explained. "They will heal completely in time, thanks to the inherent nature of her healing factor and our extensive treatment. The reason for her slow recovery is large in part due to what she was attacked with, however. The Lightning Bolt is among the most powerful weapons in existence, eclipsed by only a few. Annabeth was caught in the crossfire between two gods, child. Not mortals or monsters. Gods. I would be surprised if the lord of the sky held any of its might back at all."
"That's—That isn't a reason to sit back and do nothing!" Reyna cried, feeling the grip on her emotions slip loose. "There has to be something we can do!"
Chiron closed his eyes and sighed. "There are a few," he admitted. "But, I am hesitant to attempt anything."
At her angry and expectant look, Chiron elaborated "Psychological wounds are a different matter entirely," he said, hovering his Annabeth's head. "The damage to her mind is extensive, so much so that rushing the process could have unforeseen and irreparable consequences." His gaze grew stern. "This is what was explained to me by Apollo, the greatest medical expert in existence. It would be foolhardy to disregard his advice."
Reyna said nothing as she took in the information. Her friend was lying on a bed, comatose and nearly dead, and there was nothing she could do about it. It was the worst feeling in the world. Like being powerless.
Through the storm of turbulent emotions building within her, Reyna remembered something. Or rather, someone.
"And Percy?" Reyna asked, eyes darting around the room searchingly. She expected him, out of anyone, to be here right now.
Chiron inhaled deeply. "Departed," he sighed heavily. "Two days ago when it happened. Perseus left under the pretense of calming his mind." His tone grew bitter, disappointed, even. "If only that were true."
Reyna nodded. She figured as much. It would make anyone furious to see the person they loved injured at the hands of someone who was to be trusted above all else.
She just hoped, as sensible as Percy was, that he didn't do anything that could cost him his future. She hadn't missed the way he'd changed ever since his escaping Tartarus, even if everyone else had. Ever since then, there was an unfamiliar hardness surrounding him that wasn't simply a product of normal demigod hardship. Even the most observant of the group, Piper, had missed the subtle changes within their friend. The way his eyes darted across the room constantly, never lingering in one spot for too long. The occasional haunted stares. Reyna hadn't a clue how everyone had missed the signs. Or perhaps they were pretending not to notice.
Her eyes widened as she thought about that sentence. There was absolutely no way that Percy wouldn't do something foolish at this stage. She had to find him. And fast, before he did something he would regret.
Reyna rose suddenly, feeling like she was going to be sick, and made a move towards the exit. Chiron watched her go with sorrowful eyes, devoid of any life. Then, he turned his empty gaze back on his student.
Reyna left Annabeth and her teacher in silence.
Nico was waiting for her outside the barrier. "How did it go?" he asked, completely unaware of the events that had transpired within the camp.
It took everything she had to keep her voice steady. "Fine," she muttered tersely. "Let's go."
Nico frowned. "Is everything all right?" he asked, concerned. He had probably detected everything was not as it seemed.
Reyna nodded shakily, not fully trusting her voice at the moment. Nico looked like wanted to say something more, no doubt sensing her mood, but didn't. For that, she was grateful.
Nico sighed and held out his hand for her to take, black wisps of smoke-like darkness drifting off his form. "Ready?" he asked her.
Reyna took hold of his hand and closed her eyes so as not to get disoriented from the journey as she felt a tug at her navel. After making the mistake once during the first time she'd shadow-traveled, Reyna wouldn't repeat it again.
The sensation of the world spinning soon stopped and then Reyna was met with the familiar, chipping, brown paint of her office. She turned to Nico to thank him, already recovered from the nauseating experience, only to see that the son of Hades had already left. A frown grew on her lips. She would inform him of Annabeth's fate another time, then.
The daughter of Bellona yawned, feeling her legs falter beneath her at the stress of the day's events. First the retirement of one of her chief officers and now this? She felt the pull of sleep overpower her desire to search for Percy with every passing second.
As she moved to leave her office however, something in the corner of her vision caught her eye. An ornate and intricate envelope made from silk, of all things, sat on her desk. Reyna tore open the letter, discarding the expensive decorative paper, and beheld the contents inside. When she reached the bottom, it was almost like the fates themselves had been listening.
"The Hunters of Artemis," Reyna mused aloud, fingers idly tracing the symbol of The Hunt.
Percy blinked a few times as his eyes tried, and failed, to adjust to the pitch-black room. There was no difference in having them open or closed. "Whazt?" he slurred in a daze, stumbling forward as the world spun. Strong arms wrapped around his waist in a firm grip, steading him amidst the lack of balance.
When he gathered his bearings, Percy looked around—he still couldn't see shit—and called out. "Uh, hello?" he said lamely. "Lady, are you there?"
"I'm here," a voice spoke from right beside him, making Percy jump a little. "No need to yell. Now hold still."
Before Percy could ask what she meant by that, soft, cold hands pressed against his forehead, covering his eyes. He stiffened at first, unused to such contact from strangers, before gradually relaxing. When the hands removed themselves, Percy blinked in surprise. It was much easier to see now.
He turned to thank the kind stranger who had given him sight only to pause in confusion as she sat huddled up in a corner doing...something. The woman held both hands up in the form of a prayer and chanted a few short, inaudible words. "Tzee, o Nih, Tzee."
Percy shivered at the ominous-sounding words. They weren't greek—he would've known if they were—but something else entirely. They didn't sound human.
He blinked as the shadows began to move. Percy rubbed his eyes—the lack of sleep must have been getting to him—and then looked again. Sure enough, after staring at the wall for what seemed like minutes, he confirmed that he wasn't crazy. The shadows really were moving.
A strange black liquid, like oil, rose from the center of the room and coalesced in the air in the form of a sphere. It shifted and writhed, collapsing in on itself until it resembled a vague face of some sort. From it, spoke a voice Percy thought he'd never hear again.
"Greetings," Perseus Jackson," the voice rasped, inky "lips" moving in tandem. "I am pleased to see you've arrived unharassed. That one who brought you before me has proved most troublesome since its inception."
Percy swallowed thickly. "Nyx—Lady Nyx," he corrected. "Is that you?"
The liquid face pulsed for a moment, gaining color and definition, before settling in a strange, twisted mirror of an iris message. Then rest of its body followed. The thing resembled the embodiment of Night perfectly, just as he remembered.
"Indeed," Nyx said. "While my current form is a bit...caliginous, it is the only way we can speak as of now. Currently, there are...hindrances near my places of power that prevent me from manifesting a physical form in the mortal world. As of now, I am limited to being omnipresent, everywhere and nowhere, and can only do so at night. When my daughter rises, I retreat to my mansion until the following dusk."
Percy looked over at the woman who had brought him, feeling no small amount of shock, before his gaze fell back onto Nyx's "body". What the hell was going on?
A low rumble echoed throughout the room. Then, again. "Ah," Nyx said. "The connection seems to have stabilized. Now, shall we begin?"
Percy nodded unsurely.
"Excellent," Nyx said in a pleased tone. "First, I commend you for refusing immortality when it was offered to you almost a year ago As you know, the powers of gods are tethered to where they exert the most influence, that being the civilization you call, 'America'. Mortals have no such limitations. If you had accepted, It would've been far, far more difficult to carry out our plan."
Percy felt a chill silver its way up his spine. So he was right. Nyx had been watching him that night. It was scary to think how differently things might have ended up, had he informed the gods of what she was planning instead of lying to their faces.
"Secondly," Nyx said. "I've witnessed the act of terror against your loved one. I offer my deepest condolences. It is truly disheartening to see what savages Gaea's spawn devolve into when deprived of their greatest need—strife."
Percy nodded numbly.
There was a moment of tense silence that followed after Nyx's words. Percy looked over to the side again and locked eyes with the other occupant in the room. She stood still and unmoving, mechanical in a way as if she ran on batteries, and bored into him with her eyes unsettlingly. Percy gulped and averted his gaze.
"Finally," the embodiment of Night continued, cutting through the awkwardness. "We have the crux of the plan. As I explained before, my places of power lie at the very top and bottom ends of the Earth. In order to free my 'body', per se, you must head there and overcome the 'hinderances' that will prevent you from doing so. These being, a veritable army of my father's children and a multitude of fauna warped by Gaea's twisted machinations."
Percy balked at that. He knew overthrowing Zeus wasn't going to be easy, even with Nyx's help but...damn. The thought of fighting monster polar bears didn't exactly sound inviting.
Nyx was quick to soothe his fears. "I am aware that the task seems demanding," she said calmingly. "Rest assured, I have developed something to aid you in the process."
At that, the strange woman—who had been silent up until now—came to life. "Behold," Nyx gestured. "This is a 'clone'," there was a hint of disgust in her tone. "Of myself. I have created it to help you through the process of freeing me. Think of her as a kind of guide."
Percy nodded in confirmation. Suddenly, everything clicked. How the woman could shadow-travel despite not being a daughter of Hades, and her eerie resemblance to the embodiment of Night. Gods, and he'd almost attacked her. Percy imagined Nyx would've been furious with him if that had happened.
The mass of darkness shifted audibly, gaining his attention. "Now there is one...other topic. "I'd forgotten to discuss," Nyx said in...was that embarrassment? "It is a simple matter really, yet of utmost importance all the same. I would have been remiss had I not mentioned it."
She paused before speaking. "Be warned, Perseus Jackson," Nyx said, tone suddenly becoming grave. "After the defeat of Gaea, Zeus has placed a…'keeper', if you will, at each of my places of power. Where he obtained the knowledge of them, I haven't a clue, though he has possibly begun to suspect something after my daughter, Akhlys, foolishly allowed her presence to be detected some time ago. I do not know their exact identities, only that they are minor gods sent as insurance in case someone came to free me. Furthermore, the moment you remove the bindings, a shockwave of my power will ripple throughout the world, informing those with even an iota of common sense that Nyx is being woken."
Percy frowned. Great, he thought. Just when everything seemed to be smooth sailing. Of course nothing could be that easy. He knew that in his current state, he was and would never be a match for any immortal in a straight fight, regardless of fighting proficiency. He had a body that tired out, needed food and sleep. They didn't. Any serious confrontation against a god right now would just devolve into a battle of attrition. One that he would lose horribly.
If push came to shove, he could always start gobbling monsters for extra strength, like his half brother Ophronys did. Apparently, doing so would give him the power to challenge the gods...but at the cost of his sanity. It was a slippery slope, one he was content to save for last. Percy would've very much liked to hold his marbles in the aftermath of the peace he'd brought.
"Fortunately," Nyx continued, as if she'd read his mind. "Freeing half of my being should allow me access to a greater deal of strength than I currently have. With it, I can provide you further aid, allies, and protection against unseen attacks on your person. Any direct challenge, however, is beyond the scope of my abilities. You will need to deal with those yourself."
That made the situation more comforting, if only a little.
There was just one, small thing that had been nagging him ever since he'd left Camp Half-Blood. Now, was as good as any ever to bring it up.
"Wait," Percy interjected shakily. "I'll follow your plan. But I won't hurt any of my friends. They haven't done anything wrong and don't deserve a part in this."
Nyx favored him with a look that bordered on pity. "Of course," she said. "I wasn't expecting you to. All the better if you are able to convince your former allies or any 'god' to join the winning side."
Percy breathed a sigh of relief.
"But," Nyx continued sharply. "That is only provided they remain neutral. If any decide to fight against you—against us, I expect no less than full cooperation on your part."
Percy nodded grimly. He had no intention of getting anyone else wrapped up in this. This was his fight. His revenge against those—those monsters. If everything went perfectly, no one would ever know a thing until it was too late.
Percy turned to look up at Nyx. "And my father?" he asked hopefully. "He's the one that saved me from Zeus and is fighting on my behalf. A good man. Does the same apply for him?"
Nyx made a small noise in the back of her throat that indicated her confirmation. He smiled weakly. Everything was alright, then.
The figure of darkness that was Nyx pulsed and writhed again, as if unstable. "Hm," she frowned. "It would seem that our time here is concluded. Best of luck to you, Perseus Jackson."
With that, the embodiment of Night began to take her leave, collapsing in on herself like melting clay.
"Wait!" Percy called out. One of the oldest and wisest beings in existence was standing in front of him. He wasn't about to let her go without answering a few questions.
The deformation paused and then, almost instantly, reversed itself. Nyx was looking at him expectantly. "Yes?" she asked, full of patience.
Percy took a moment to consider his words before speaking. "Lady Nyx," he addressed her respectfully. "Do you know of a process where demigods can grow stronger by eating monsters?" he asked.
Nyx bristled and her eyes narrowed dangerously at the question. The air seemed to gain a chill that hadn't been there previously. "Before I part with that information," she began lowly. "I require something of you first."
Her gaze darkened as the shadows in the room lengthened and danced menacingly. "An oath of the Styx," she hissed balefully. "Swear to it, to me, that you will do anything and everything in your power to depose the current regime. Then, and only then, shall I impart the knowledge onto you."
Percy gulped. "And if I can't?" he asked bravely, perhaps, stupidly.
"Then I am afraid I cannot allow you to leave this place," Nyx said smoothly. Black smoke began to drift off her form as the room grew even darker. He swore he could also hear something shuffling a few feet behind him.
Percy nodded fearfully. "I swear," he said.
"Say it!" Nyx hissed.
Percy swallowed thickly. It was now or never. Would he back down and return to his normal life living in fear until the day came when Zeus grew tired of his presence? Or would he man up and fight until his last breath? Fight until parent and child weren't forced to kill each other anymore just because some asshole ordered them to?
He said the words.
"I swear on the River Styx," Percy recited. "To do everything in my power to depose the current regime." At Nyx's expectant look, he added. "That being, the gods of Olympus."
A monstrous grin, wide and baring teeth, was the only response he got. Percy felt a chill, similar to the one on that fateful day, tingle its way through him. Now, it was certain.
There was no going back now.
The silence was deafening. Percy took small glances around the room nervously, expecting someone to say something.
Nyx laughed.
Uncontrollable and childlike laughter—worthy of any movie villain—bubbled past her throat and left her struggling for air. It wasn't the laughter of someone sane, he was sure of that.
Nyx cleared her throat. "I—I apologize," she gasped in-between fits of giggles. "How rude of me." she coughed in her hand, gathering her bearings. "Now, on to your question. Have you heard of the legend of Ophronys The Unbreakable?" she asked him.
Percy nodded. Only a complete idiot wouldn't be able to piece together where he'd gotten the strength from and why the gods did so much to hide it over the years.
"Then you must know why Zeus feared him, and by extension, fears you," Nyx said. "It is told that he slew two-hundred men single-handedly before reinforcements arrived, though that is an understatement. The real figure is more along the lines of a thousand."
Percy gaped at her in disbelief. A thousand men? It was an impressive amount, far larger than the number of monsters he had killed. And all of that strength was just sitting there, waiting for the next unfortunate victim to stumble upon it.
Nyx continued. "The intricacies of the process are a bit more complex than that," she explained. "Imagine," Nyx held out her hands, forming two spheres of darkness within them. "That in my left palm, lies a mortal soul, and in my right, lies the essence of Tartarus, which all children of my father contain. Normally, they are both separate entities, never mingling unless one willingly lowers themselves to lay with the other."
Nyx smashed her hands together, mixing the spheres of darkness together to form a singular, larger ball.
"But," she said. "If a mortal—child of the gods—were to consume the flesh and entrails of monsters, the two entities mix, causing changes to occur within the individual. They become...something else. Something between god, Tartarus, and mortal. It is the reason why you were able to manifest such an abnormal variation of your bloodline, despite your father and none else born of Gaea's lineage being unable to do so. Though yours is a particularly rare case. An oddity indeed…"
Percy nodded slowly, taking the information in. So if Nyx was telling the truth, did that mean he was some kind of monster-god hybrid? The idea was jarring to think about.
He was still confused though. "Does it matter which type of monsters a person eats?" he asked.
Some monsters had tasted like vomit and shit mixed together in a bag, while others—like the dragon—were similar to a candy shop or a decent restaurant. There had to be some significance in that.
Nyx smiled. "Yes," she answered. "While the core process remains the same, there are some advantages to hunting stronger and uncommon spawns of Tartarus versus their weaker counterparts. A higher-quality cut of 'meat' is sure to produce greater results in the pursuit of strength."
It was settled then. Percy would spend his time tracking down powerful monsters to gain their strength. Then, he would be unstoppable.
A dangerous look grew in Nyx's eyes. "The power of Tartarus' flesh is immense," she said warningly, again, as if reading his thoughts. "With it, a man can ascend to divinity, bypassing decades of training in mere years. But it is not without a cost. In return for power beyond understanding, madness ensues. The power of Tartarus cannot be contained by the body of a mere mortal. It drives them mad eventually, that is to say, if it didn't incinerate them from within first. The more an individual partakes in this process, the faster this occurs. I theorize that if one were to consume the flesh of powerful monsters on a regular basis, their strength could be extended indefinitely, at the cost of their sanity."
She paused, an ugly scowl growing on her face. "Unfortunately, I haven't gotten the chance to test this yet. That urchin of the sky hasn't exactly allowed for optimal conditions of study so it remains nothing more than simple conjecture at the moment," Nyx finished.
Percy frowned, deflated. There goes that plan, he thought.
Still, if nothing else, there was a way for him to improve quickly and without the need to spend hours slaving away with a sword. That hadn't exactly been tedious or boring during the times he had done it, just slow and inefficient. Training against wooden dummies or lightly sparring with someone else paled in comparison to putting your life on the line and gaining actual fighting experience in the process.
"The power of it is also why Zeus—" Nyx spat the name. "Shows so much zeal at keeping the information contained. Children of the gods grow stronger as they age and by extension, accumulate wisdom. Too much of it, and his subjects are bound to rebel. All that he has done, and all that he is doing, is for the sake of preserving his own power. Quite frankly, it disgusts me."
Percy almost laughed at that. Yeah, that sounded like Zeus alright. Paranoid and rotten to the core. So much so that he'd even managed to piss off one of the most powerful beings in existence.
Percy shuffled awkwardly on his feet. His curiosity had been sated and now, there was nothing else to talk about.
"What happens next?" he asked.
Nyx looked down at him. "Now," she said. "You must grow further. Regain the strength you wielded a year ago when you first stood before me. Then, when you are ready, journey to my places of power and help me put an end to this hell on earth."
Percy exhaled heavily at the instructions. He was really doing this.
He turned around stiffly and headed for the door in a rush, trying to leave as fast as he could.
"Perseus," Nyx called out from behind. Percy paused, quirking his head, and locked eyes with his now partner-in-crime.
"A word of advice," she said." Be wary if you choose the avenue of haste. Powerful beings such as yourself, can tolerate a greater percentage of Tartarus mixing with themselves before adverse effects begin to settle in. Do not be fooled however, by the allure of cheap power under the guise of a shortcut. You are vital to me, after all."
Percy nodded, taking the advice to heart. When someone as wise as Nyx told you to do something, it was in your best interest to listen.
He turned around, hurrying to the door, only to have his path blocked by a wall of darkness. "Hold, boy," Nyx stopped him again, holding up her hand. She must've still wanted to tell him something. Percy sullenly made his way back to stand in front of the center of the room.
Nyx was staring at him with an odd intensity. What? he wanted to ask, but knew better.
Finally, the embodiment of Night spoke. "The defeat of Gaea and the commitment you've shown to the cause has made me feel...proud, in a way, of you," she said. Her tone was low, intimate, even, with a hint of pride. Percy stared at her disbelievingly. "Savor this praise, Perseus. I do not give it lightly, even to my own children."
Percy squirmed uncomfortably at the compliment, standing a little straighter. He couldn't ignore how it had made him feel strangely...nice inside.
"Now, without further delay, you must start the journey," Nyx instructed, all traces of the earlier mood gone from her voice. "The vessel beside you, as flawed as it is, will be useful in that regard."
Percy turned his shoulder and almost recoiled as he stood face-to-face with the woman—clone—that had been created to help him. Gods, he was going to die of a heart attack before they even started.
Nyx audibly cleared her throat, drawing his attention. "Gaea's blood is a sickness, child," she said, a hint of anger infecting her voice. "A plague, really. Bringing ruin to the land and its inhabitants. For millennia, people—divinity and mortal—have slayed each other like barbarians, all without reason or cause while your gods sit on their thrones wasting their power and growing complacent. I have had enough. Gaea is a vicious disease...and I am the cure. We are the cure. Remember that."
Then, she was gone.
"I'm sorry, ma'am," the portly man behind the counter said. "The deadline to purchase tickets for Twisted Agony's upcoming performance was last Friday. I'm afraid we're all sold out."
That was not what Piper wanted to hear after standing in line for hours. She couldn't even get the tickets last week because some asshole online bought them all and was reselling for triple their original price. The urge to blow up and unleash her anger upon the innocent ticket collector was overwhelming.
Piper sighed, taking slow breaths to calm her nerves. No, she decided. The guy was simply doing his job. It wasn't his fault that some people decided to be selfish. That didn't mean, however, that she would give up without a fight.
Piper smiled coyly, the best she could give, and batted her eyelashes in a way that was meant to be alluring. She heard the man's breath hitch and saw him staring at her with wide eyes as the power she'd been born with took hold.
"I'll ask again, since you didn't hear me the first time," Piper said in a light tone. "Are there any tickets left to Twisted Agony? Any at all? I've waited for so long already, and would be very upset if it was for nothing."
The clerk nodded lifelessly, in a daze. Good, she thought. Her Charmspeak was getting better.
"I need three of them, preferably ones for seats near the front," Piper ordered.
Without a word, the man reached under the counter and swiftly brought out three tickets to her favorite band. She took them gladly.
"Thank you so much," Piper said sweetly, placing three, hundred-dollar bills on the counter. "I knew we could work something out."
Then, she skipped away, leaving the confused ticket-collector and bewildered line of people to continue with their day. Honestly, Piper felt a little bad, using her power to manipulate others in that way. Sometimes though, you had to play dirty to get the things you wanted. At least no one was hurt.
A boy leaning against a far wall some ten feet from her caught her attention. Piper's eyes widened as she recognized him instantly.
"Nico!" she greeted pleasantly, running up to him with her arms open.
The son of Hades smiled and returned the contact. "Hey," he said. "It's good to see you. How's everything?"
Piper nodded excitedly. "Good," she said. "What brings you here? You don't usually come to see any of us on your own."
At the question, Nico's face turned deadly serious. "Problem," he grunted, suddenly grabbing hold of her shoulder. "I'll explain when we get there."
Piper stared at him in confusion and then yelped as her body was suddenly propelled forward at speeds faster than sound.
The darkness lady, Percy had dubbed her, was weird. He still wasn't sure how the whole "clone" thing worked. Was she a real, live person? Capable of human thought and emotion? Or was she simply a machine acting within her programming? He'd spent more time thinking about it than he cared to admit.
Taking a closer look at the woman, he could see the resemblance. She had the same tanned skin as her creator and eyes as black as the night, though thankfully, devoid of any stars. Cheekbones visible from even underneath her skin sat high on the woman's face and she just...held an aura of perfection comparable to the gods and goddesses. No mere mortal could ever hope to compare.
And she sounded just like Nyx, Percy noted, although the voice was different, lighter and less mature. Like she wasn't a billion-year-old product of the void, but merely a regular woman in her twenties.
All in all, a spitting image of her creator.
"Uh," Percy said dumbly in askance. "I never got your name?"
The woman paused from whatever she was doing and looked up. "Me?" she pointed to herself. He nodded.
The woman was quiet for a few moments as she contemplated his question. Percy frowned. Did Nyx not give her a name? That was cruel, he thought. Even monsters had names.
Then, after a while, she spoke.
"Cinder," the woman decided on. "Since it won't do to name an inferior copy after the original, you may call me that."
Strange, sure, but not the worst one he'd heard. There were many of those.
"So, Cinder," Percy said, tasting the name on his tongue. "How do you...work exactly?"
Gods, that sounded horrible. He was talking to a person, not a machine. Or at least he thought he was.
Cinder didn't seem to be offended. If anything, she seemed delighted at the chance to explain things to him. "Very well," she said, making a move to sit next to him on the couch. Percy slid over, making room, and then listened attentively as the woman explained.
"As you know," Cinder started. "I constructed this vessel in order to monitor the activities of the Olympians and to aid you on our little excursion when you decided the time was right."
Percy nodded. "Right," he said.
"Unfortunately, it had to be completely mortal," Cinder continued bitterly. "Burdened by a finite lifespan, strength, and intellect so as not to attract unwanted attention. The last thing I needed was for some meddling nuisance to connect the dots between it and Akhlys' presence in the world. As such, my abilities have been scaled back accordingly. Right now I am only capable of very minute manipulation of the mist and limited travel within the shadows. My combat ability is nothing to boast about either, though with your help, I think we can topple any children of my father. It is the gods, however, that I am concerned with. That is why you need to grow stronger for the both of us."
Percy opened his mouth to speak but Cinder cut him off. "And before you ask," she interrupted. "No, I cannot simply shadow-travel us to my places of power. The act of doing so is immensely draining, far too much to be efficient." She scowled. "One of the many drawbacks of a flawed invention. We would be left stranded somewhere without food or access to modern conveniences."
Percy frowned. That was...unfortunate, he thought. It meant that he would be doing all of the grunt work.
"Have any weapons?" He asked her. If Zeus was going to send gods after them, he would feel more confident if he didn't have to babysit.
Cinder nodded, reaching into the folds of her coat. "This," she said, withdrawing a silver, Stygian Iron dagger that shone with some unseen light. "I made it for myself before I was created."
"Right," Percy nodded. Her strange way of speaking was going to be a pain to get used to. "How can I get in touch with you when we reach the North pole?"
Cinder smiled. "Do not worry," she reassured him. "I am always watching. And, if for some reason I am not, there are instructions embedded in the vessel."
"And if any problems come up?" he pressed.
"There is a way to summon my presence at night or in dark places such as this one," Cinder said, gesturing around them. "I should know how to do so."
Percy sighed, running a hand through his hair. That took care of his worries for now. The only thing left to do was sleep and figure out everything else in the morning.
As if sharing his sentiment, Cinder stood, a slight yawn spilling past her lips as she stretched. "It's about time for rest," she said tiredly, rubbing at her eyes. "This area is currently in its summer season so there isn't a need to share body heat. Nevertheless, I am open to the idea."
Cinder turned and looked at him invitingly. Percy swallowed nervously at the implication.
"No thanks," he declined.
"Very well," Cinder shrugged and then retreated down the hallway. Only when he heard the click of the door, did Percy allow himself to fully relax.
He slumped down on the couch and put an arm over his eyes.
Later that night, Percy lay awake, unable to rest even when he felt dead tired. Sleep, it seemed, had decided to abandon him at the moment.
He rolled over, face becoming basked in the moonlight spilling in from the open curtains as he began to think.
Was he doing the right thing?
It was true that he could give himself up, talk to Zeus and hope he would understand his side of things. Percy grit his teeth at that. Zeus and understanding. The words sounded horrible together. No, the god of the sky would rather kill him than listen to a word that came out of his mouth.
But at least his friends would be safe.
Annabeth would probably be killed as well, if she ever recovered from her coma. She knew too much, definitely more than anyone besides him and Nyx, and he didn't doubt that Zeus would try to blackmail Athena into killing her daughter. Or just do it himself if that failed. Two lives versus the hundreds, perhaps thousands that would be lost should he be forced to fight.
The only problem was, he just...couldn't accept something like that. Nothing would change if he failed. The cycle of demigods being killed for discovering they shouldn't have would continue over and over and over. Until the end of time.
Maybe Nyx was right. Maybe the gods were sick of some disease that caused them to act selfishly and prioritize their safety over their own children. Only his father seemed to be immune. And like the embodiment of Night had said earlier, they were the cure. The ones to bring an end to an era and establish peace. The fact wasn't pretty, he knew, but it didn't seem like there was an alternative.
As he thought more on the subject, Percy's eyes widened, stumbling upon a realization.
It wasn't the gods that were sick.
It was the world.
The gods were simply a product of human emotions and hatred. It's how they existed in the first place, after all. Even without them, there would always be war, fear, greed, and hatred. There would always be someone killing another for selfish reasons. The world simply didn't know how to do anything else.
Percy would fight to end it, even if it cost him everything.
With that thought, he closed his eyes and drifted away into the land of dreams.
A/N:
After a resounding response to my question in the previous chapter, I have decided to keep the rating for this story as is. Both as a precaution and insurance in case things get heavy in the future.
Finally, we have the return of Nyx. She is, by far, my favorite character to write. With Zeus as well, to a lesser extent. I can't exactly explain it. I just have a strong penchant for their kinds of personalities. Great to be back writing such an enjoyable character.
So regarding the naming of Nyx's clone that was introduced way back in chapter 5, but didn't actually gain screen time until recently. It was difficult to choose a name that fit the nature of her character and didn't sound too feminine or immersion-breaking. At the same time, it had to make sense and not sound outlandish. I think I did an alright job in that regard.
And just a reminder, the name is pronounced as / Cind-air /. Not Cinder as in the type of rock.
The name is a product of an epiphany I had a couple of weeks ago. It originates from something, somewhere I read on this site waaay back in my early days of fan fiction, though I think it was the name of a character from the actual media and not an OC. Nowadays, I don't really read anything on this site, apart from a few stories every now and then. My activity here is strictly on those and, obviously, updating this story. A consequence of getting older, I guess.
Another long, pain-in-the-behind chapter this time around, in exactly a week. Think of it as my gift to you.