66—17:8
Sorry about that wait. Was finishing up school and doing some thinking about this story. The personal attack by SpartanWartastic on March 5 threw a bit of a monkey wrench into my mind. Either this guy isn't on his meds anymore, or he's just completely deranged. And still copying the first chapters of the story word for word, with a sentence or phrase of his own mind thrown in here and there.
I will not be taking the ensuing fight to New Rome to kickstart the Fifth Life. I will reserve that for the Battle of the Labyrinth in the future. Speaking of the future, I'll be shelving this story for a bit as I turn back to my Black Lagoon story. She's been sitting neglected for a while, and my muse for this one is dying out.
Points to whoever can figure out the chapter title.
Disclaimer: I don't own PJO or AC
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Inspired by historical events and an over-active imagination, this work of fiction was designed, developed, and produced by a single-cultural team of religious faith and belief, sexual orientation, and gender identity.
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In the moment that Percy saw Zoë impaled via javelin and taken for a flight that ended with a wet, bloody crunch just a few feet from Artemis and Lou Ellen, everything that was Faris, Virgil, and Jake instantly melted away, and all that was left of Percy was just Cheyenne. Her anguish, her despair, her fury, her disregard for any danger and all the implications of what she gave into. She wanted nothing more in the world right now than to make Atlas suffer.
She wanted to make him squeal.
She wanted to paint the mountain with his blood.
She wanted to feel his bones splinter under her fists.
She wanted to watch the skin bruise up, and then make those bruises rupture.
She wanted to peel the lids from Atlas's eyes, separate each of his organs, and make him watch as she devoured them.
She wanted to nail him to a cross and start stabbing every square inch of his body while a crown of thorns poked holes into his brain.
She wanted Atlas to endure an eternity of pain and suffering in a world where there was no peace, no joy, no happiness, and no light except for the one that created it.
Cheyenne completely, totally, unashamedly, unabashedly, unhesitatingly, despairingly accepted every scrap of power that Amon promised her, the power that she needed to make her desires for Atlas come to pass.
A scream unlike any other that had ever been heard by any on Mt. Othrys shook the mountain to its very foundation. It was loud, it was angry, it was broken. Artemis and all the demigods could only stand there and watch in mute horror and Percy's body was torn apart from the inside.
His eyes turned pure yellow, his teeth fell from his mouth, pushed out of his gums by a row of fangs that violently erupted from below. His back exploded in a shower of blood and strips of flesh as huge, leathery, dragon-like wings tore free from within. His skin bulged and twitched as if crawling creatures were moving in him, and that skin ripped and tore asunder, shredding his clothes. His body grew to twice its size, from the puberty-stricken fourteen-year-old of impressive muscle for his age, to a towering beast that only looked human.
Dragon wings spread wide behind him, thorned tail flicking dangerously about, arms, legs, and torso looking to be made of stream-lined, black, chitinous material, and a head sporting a mouth full of fangs with cheeks split all the way up to the ears, solid yellow eyes with no iris or pupil, and an elaborate set of horns, two of which were thick and splayed out like small wings, the other two being like antlers and pointing straight up, Percy Jackson was a terrifying sight to behold.
Standing amidst a pile of his own flesh in a puddle of his own blood didn't help the image.
Fire erupted in the sky, blazing through the clouds in a circle so large it seemed to encompass the whole of San Francisco. Individual lines shot throughout the sky-born ring of fire, going from arc to arc, until the sky burned with one of the scariest, most ominous and foreboding symbols ever put to surface by the hands of human beings. It was probably Lou Ellen who screamed the loudest at seeing the symbol, even louder than Nico who was more intimately connected with such symbols through his studies five centuries ago.
He grabbed the shell-shocked and weeping Thalia, dragging her and Annabeth over to Lou Ellen, Artemis, and the barely alive Zoë Nightshade. Were it not for the fact that she was part Titan and the most powerful of the moon goddess's adopted daughters, that javelin would've killed her instantly since it had clean through spine, ribs, heart, and lungs. As it was, Zoë was just barely alive, and Percy didn't know it.
Even if he did, it wouldn't have mattered.
Lou Ellen threw up a barrier around her and the others, and started diverting magic from healing Artemis into healing Zoë, the goddess desperately adding what she could given her severely weakened state.
The young witch's heart was thundering in her chest as she beheld the demon-possessed Percy Jackson, the lines of the prophecy ringing in her ears. She'd been nervous the whole time, but now she was downright terrified. That level of demonic energy, the level of hatred and anger, sadness and sorrow, Amon feeding off of Cheyenne/Percy's emotions and sins to output a level of power beyond Zeus or any pagan deity.
Far beyond.
How could she, a little bedwetter, possibly coral such ancient, malicious power?
How could Nico call himself Virgil's son, a Christian, when he'd kissed boys and worn girls' outer and underwear?
How could Thalia ever consider herself Peter's big sister given how awful she'd been, driving Peter to become a spiteful abomination?
How could Annabeth consider herself among friends here, with how stupid and incompetent they all were compared to her intelligence?
"Children, fight," Artemis groaned as she tried to send power from her to them so they could fight the influence of the demon.
As for that fiery symbol in the sky, Atlas gazed upon it, his body healed through the grace of somewhat dormant Earth Mother, and he screamed, for he stood in the center of the pentagon created by the blazing lines within the fiery circle. Atlas's scream was mirrored by millions of others down below, for the fire in the sky was reflected upon the ground, the flames tearing through the earth a new pattern.
Percy through his head back and howled, shaking the mountain to its very roots, a jet of fire streaming out of his mouth. The fire was almost blinding and so eyes had to be averted. The fire was hot, so that all nearby foliage burst into flame, and what beings that weren't behind Lou Ellen's barrier suffered their searing lungs.
Even Atlas found himself clutching his chest in pain.
Percy homed in on the Titan, and was suddenly gone. Atlas' eyes widened when Percy was suddenly right there, just mere inches away from him. Zoë's father trembled in the presence of the one he unironically considered to be his daughter-in-law, nostrils filled with the smell of smoke, burning meat, and blood, eyes filled with the visage of something horrible, something awful.
The visage of an angel that was cast from heaven.
An angel that was out for one thing, and one thing only.
Atlas squeaked and shot to his feet, throwing a desperate, sloppy punch that had enough Titanic strength to it to have collapsed a skyscraper. Percy's hand came up and stopped the attack in its tracks. The impact released a bang that put out the fires and made the black marble at their feet buckle and break.
Atlas squawked in pain, the grip on his fist not only feeling like a machine was squeezing down on it, but also like that machine doubled as a firebrand. Desperately, he swung his other fist, only for the exact same to happen, a loud boom from the impact, followed by intense pressure and heat. Percy squeezed hard and fast, and Atlas screeched when his hands imploded, the bones violently splintering, ichor gushing everywhere.
Percy's jaws clamped down on the Titan's collar bone and tore a huge chunk out of him with a violent jerk of his horned head. Atlas fell backwards, the mangled remains of his hand, strips of skin and muscle with bits of bone hanging loosely about, coming up to the new hole between his neck and shoulder. The Titan blubbered nonsensically for a few seconds before he once again shrieked when Percy's huge foot came down on his knees, shattering them. Percy dug his heel back and forth as if crushing a bug, making sure to really separate Atlas' legs from the rest of him.
Handless, legless, Atlas was a crying, blubbering mess as Percy picked him off the gold-splattered ground by the head.
"Non lacrimis, quaeso. Est perditio bonum dolorem!"
Percy's voice made all who heard it shudder and tremble, sounding like a legion evil souls speaking at once.
Percy took one of his claws and punctured Atlas's abdomen, then dragged the claw around fast as a laser through a thin sheet of metal in a circle, then pulled. Atlas could hardly scream anymore, so the sound that came out of his mouth was a long, raspy exhale as he beheld a huge strip of skin and muscle, the whole area that held his guts in place, pulled from him, his inside unceremoniously flopping out. He should've been dead by now, his spirit in the pit of Tartarus to reform, but he wasn't.
Percy wouldn't let him leave.
Everyone watched in mute horror as Percy started to eat the Titan, slurping down his intestines like noodles, popping things like the liver and the pancreas into his mouth like popcorn chicken, and then he started to turn Atlas over in his hands, devouring everything else like he was a corn on the cob. Atlas was alive and could feel every bit of what was happening to him, every puncture of teeth, every ripping of his body, but he wouldn't die.
His spirit wouldn't leave.
Percy's wouldn't let him.
When Atlas was nothing but slippery bones, Percy having devoured everything there was of him, skin, muscle, organs, even everything of his head, the Titan thought that would be it. Percy had his revenge, and that would be it. Perhaps, if Atlas had not been living under the sky for the past three thousand years, he would've known about that sad little trope. As it was, he was horribly shocked and terrified when Percy proceeded to vomit up everything he'd just eaten of Atlas, all the blood, all the skin and the muscles, and all the organs.
Waving his hand, Percy committed to a miracle. In seconds, the Titan was restored, everything back in place, bones covered in muscles, organs held in place, and skin over the muscles. Even his clothes were back on. Of course, his whole body was still racked with the phantom agony of being eaten alive.
Percy's tail cracked against Atlas' face, sending the Titan flying through a wall. He rolled across the ground, and when he stopped, he coughed up teeth and ichor. He got to reprieve as Percy was on him, hefting him up to punch him in the face. Atlas went flying again, and again, and again, and again, and so many more times after that as his domain of endurance worked hellishly against him. His body broke and splintered as the black palace of Mt. Othrys collapsed and tumbled around him.
When Percy loomed over him once more, Atlas, his face an unrecognizable lump of swollen, bleeding flesh, his bones poking out of his body at random places, begged for an end to his life. The words came out jumbled, broken, ugly, and not at all discernable, but the energy was easily understood.
Percy's solid yellow eyes seemed to stare down his nose at the broken Atlas, and the seconds painfully ticked by one after the other, until he made his decision. Opening his mouth, a waterfall of acid poured fourth, and Atlas moaned pitifully as he was melted starting at the feet, up the legs, across the torso, and finally the head. Literally melted from toe to head.
The ground bubbled and steamed and hissed as the acid continued chewing through the mountain for several feet before losing potency, leaving a steaming crater in the mountainside.
This happened in full view of the Artemis and everyone around her. Lou Ellen, Nico, Thalia, and Annabeth all watched in abject horror, while Zoë was slipping away. What power Lou Ellen and Artemis were able to spare wasn't enough.
Percy turned his head around to face them, making their breaths all hitch in their throats.
"My family. I am going to do what I should have done long ago, and purge this world of its sin. God has allowed the groaning and laboring to go on long enough. Nico, Thalia, my son and my sister, come to me. We will do this together."
Percy extended his clawed, gold-dripping hand, and the two mentioned shrank backward, mouths open and eyes wide. Percy seemed saddened by this, but brushed it off.
"Very well. Lou Ellen, your place is by my side. I do not want anything to happen to you."
Lou Ellen's heart drummed in her chest to the beat of Jumanji. Glancing at Nico, the boy looked about ready to pee his pants, horrified and traumatized by what his father had become, what he had done. Thalia was in the exact same boat as Nico, only with her mind wrapped around the fact that this was her little sister. Annabeth was completely numb, blank-eyed and shut down, her mind unable to cope with the stress of her imprisonment and the fate of her warden. Artemis couldn't do anything, trapped under the sky as she was, and too weak even as an Olympian goddess to face something like Percy as he was. Zoë was on her death bed, her last few breaths barely shuddering from her mouth. If that javelin had been just any other javelin, she might've been fine, but Atlas had created this particular weapon, imbuing it with his hate and malice, and his desire to kill Zoë, and that powerful, evil magic was working.
Lou Ellen was all alone against this evil being that wore Percy's face.
The words of the prophecy reverberated in her mind, how the "young witch alone" would prevail against sin, and that's exactly what Percy was talking about in his idea of purging the world. That was not his decision or choice to make; the judgement of the world was up to one being and one alone. Usurping that role was heresy, blasphemy, infidelity, and probably a whole bunch of other words that ended in "y" that escaped Lou's petrified thoughts.
She was strong, the most powerful daughter of Hecate besides Lucy, but what was any of her magic to that of a demon like Amon? What was any Olympian to that kind of evil?
"Lou," Artemis said evenly.
The witch girl looked at her.
"My father would not want me to say this to you, but remember the Bible. The Book of Joshua, chapter one, verse nine."
Lou's mind was drawing a blank in her fear-filled state, before it clicked. She swallowed hard, doubts surging through her about things that are, things that were, about the nature of the gods she knew and how they could or could not apply, and about the state of the world itself and the being that supposedly created it and everything in it and beyond. Lou Ellen swallowed again, and she remembered a sacred tradition amongst the Assassins.
While the modern Brotherhood's religious views ranged from agnostic to atheist, with very few faithful ones left against the tidal wave of the Precursors, there was once a time in which the Brotherhood was steeped in religion, with its Masyaf castle being home to hundreds of Muslims, and a few Christians, most notably Faris. The sacred tradition Lou thought of was once truly considered to be its name, but now it had taken on more of a connotation of skill, aim, and timing.
Looking at Artemis one more time, and at receiving the encouraging, determined nod, Lou Ellen steeled herself. There wasn't a wooden beam or a ledge anywhere close by, nor were there any deep bodies of water or piles of hay or flowers, but there was no doubt that this qualified as that sacred tradition.
She'd wondered if she was really an Assassin. Her boyfriend was an Assassin, his whole family were Assassins, and she'd spent the better part of the year at the Assassin safehouse in Rapid City, training with them in freeclimbing, melee combat, and being sneaky, but she'd taken no vow or oath, undergone no ceremony or ritual, and had always kind of considered herself as kind of but not really.
She was no killer.
Lou Ellen was still haunted by the manticore attack when she was in elementary school, the one that triggered her magic and blew up half of said school…and her classmates.
She'd always had her doubts and misunderstandings about what it meant to be an Assassin, what the Creed meant, but not anymore. Lou Ellen decided for herself what it meant to be an Assassin, she decided what the Creed meant, and decided that she'd talk with Percy later about being officially initiated into the ranks of the Brotherhood, but right now she had to save him.
She had to save the world from the demon that could destroy it.
Lou Ellen stood up—Zoë's eye cracked blearily open—feeling bold and warm, brimming with power, resolve clad in iron, and left the protection of her magical forcefield. Instantly, she was beset by demons. They melted from the shadows or appeared from the smoke of the fiery pentagram, and fluttered around her, whispering in her ears.
He will fail you
Your faith will fail you
He does not love us, and He does not love you
He is the cause behind all of this suffering
He let Percy be taken by Time and by Rome
This is all His fault
He lets Percy be tortured by Our Hero
"The suffering we face today is nothing compared to the glory we receive," Lou Ellen answered, stride unbroken as she approached Amon.
The demons did not give up.
We too can quote Scripture
The sorcerers, mediums, and witches shall not inherit the Kingdom of God
You shall have no other gods before Me, or I will put you to death
You shall not permit a witch to live
A man or woman found to be a witch shall be stoned to death
Witches are an abomination before the LORD
Woe to women who practice magic
"My magic is my gift from God," Lou Ellen answered. "I will use it to help others."
The demons continued their attack, unleashing a third barrage.
Your God is no better than the false gods
He revels in the suffering and pain of others
He could bring peace and love right now, but refuses
It was He who cast the curse of death and allows sin to reign
There is no justice
There is no salvation
God is not good
Lou Ellen looked a demon in its eyes and answered, "He will make you my footstool."
The demons cried out as fire destroyed them.
Then it was just Lou, the Demon Hero, and one other person.
Amon loomed over Lou Ellen, huge, beastly, intimidating, powerful, evil.
"Satan has indeed made some very dumb decisions over the centuries, but I do have to say that choosing this child has probably been one of the best. Perseus will lead our armies," Amon promised with nothing but resolution and conviction.
"No," Lou Ellen said. "I'll stop you."
"You cannot fight against all of Hell."
"True, but he can."
Lou Ellen jabbed a thumb over her shoulder in a vague easterly direction, where the Lion sat upon a mound of rubble. Terror flicked across Amon's face when he saw the Lion, but he instantly masked it with a fierce look, one of a determined fighter. He leapt at the Lion, wings spread wide, claws ready to rend. The Lion opened his mouth and roared so loud that the fire in the sky and the ground was extinguished. Amon was violently sent away and crashed into the ground so hard he made a crater that shook the mountain.
Lou ran to the crater, sliding down the side to where Percy lay in the epicenter, naked and shivering, tears leaking from his shut eyes. If Lou hadn't been in full serious mode, she might've stopped to take in the view, but as it was, not a second was wasted as she pulled a set clothes from her pocket, and magically dressed Percy as she ran checks on him for broken bones, torn muscles, diseases, and everything else. Physically, he was just fine.
All other categories…
Percy reached blindly around, and Lou Ellen grabbed him and pulled him into her embrace. He sobbed into the crook of her neck, holding on so tightly that Lou thought he might very well break her back, but she dealt with it and took the pain. Percy needed her right now.
"I'm here, Percy," she whispered. "I'm right here."
It would be a few more seconds until Thalia came running over to check the crater. Her heart broke in her chest when she saw her little brother crying his heart out once more like so many times as the youngest Frye sibling. She ran down the side and joined the hug. Percy's arm came around her just as tight as the one around Lou, the witch sharing a nod with the daughter of Zeus.
This had nothing to do with a moment—this was all about being there for Percy.
"D-Don't l-l-let Nico s-s-see me like th-this," Percy stuttered through his tears, making the girls wince.
His pride as Virgil couldn't bare his son seeing him in such a vulnerable state; Giovanni's mighty and stout father, reduced to a sobbing child. Of course, that was on top of seeing his father transformed into a literal demon, proceeding to violently and ruthlessly torture Atlas to death.
There was going to be a whole lot of damage control after this. Thalia had her own slew of questions, but right now none of that was important. Only Percy was important, helping him through what he was going through, and what he was about to go through.
Percy's sobs turned into choked shudders, and eventually into labored breaths. Lou Ellen produced a water bottle, and Percy guzzled the whole thing in seconds, and the bottle after that one.
"Is Zoë dead?" Percy asked, tired, worn out, fatigued and beyond anymore grief for the night.
"Not yet," Lou Ellen answered evenly. "She's barely holding on, just for you."
Percy nodded and extricated himself from the girls. He trudged his way out of the crater and over to where the other four were. He noted that Artemis was no longer trapped under the sky, and that a boulder was keeping the primordial essence of Ouranos from crashing down upon California. If he wasn't so burned out, he would've stood there and marveled.
Artemis was cradling a steadily fading Zoë, Nico and Annabeth standing a distance away, quietly talking. When Nico saw Percy approaching, he broke into tears and sprinted at his father.
"Papa!"
Percy grabbed a tight hold of him, keeping the boy to his body for a short time before gently pushing Nico away with a look that promised they would have together later. A single look into Annabeth's eyes kept the young woman away, also with a promise of future conversation. Percy went and knelt beside Artemis, whose tear-stained face was heartbreaking to look at.
Zoë smiled slightly. The javelin was gone from her torso, as was any hint of damage, but she'd lost too much blood and the malicious power of Atlas had already killed her. The only thing keeping Zoë alive right now was sheer will. She would not pass on without seeing her Cheyenne one more time.
Percy gently took Zoë into his lap. "Mon chéri," he said lovingly.
Zoë struggled to reach a hand to his cheek, so Percy leaned down to her so she could touch. She was very cold.
"Ma belle petite fille. This is a good thing," Zoë said, barely able to whisper. "I won't cause you anymore suffering or pain."
"No, no, nonono," Percy rebuked. "You weren't causing me any suffering or pain, Zoë, I love you."
"And you love Jesus, and you love Lou Ellen. I'm a wedge in your heart, I see that now. I see I've been selfish and cruel and haven't given you the space and time you needed. Even during our given time together, I didn't treat you as I should've. I treated you as a needy child with my fingers in your vagina. I didn't treat you as an adult, but instead kept you young to satisfy my own desires."
"Yeah, but I liked it, so it was okay," Percy said with a watery smile.
"It is okay now, Percy. You were the greatest woman ever in my life, and I would trade nothing for it. Now you are the greatest man I've ever known, and I am proud to have gotten to know this side of you." Zoë smiled the happiest, serenest smile she'd had on her face in two centuries.
"I love you, Cheyenne Nightshade, and I love who you have become, Perseus Jackson. Je vais vous revoir...dans un autre endroit...dans un autre temps..."
Her volcanic black eyes glazed over as breath left her, still locked with Percy's solemn green ones.
"Au revoir, bien-aimé," he whispered, leaning down to give Zoë one final kiss as he shut her eyes for good.
Percy had no more tears left, but he did have a humongous hollow in him, a void that couldn't be filled right now, not by Lou Ellen, or Nico, or Thalia, or Artemis, and he truly felt like not even his God could fill this void. A gentle hand settled on Percy's shoulder, and he looked into the sad, silver eyes of Artemis.
She pulled him into a hug and said softly, "She loved you more than anything she'd ever loved before."
"I kn-know."
Artemis touched Zoë, transforming her mortal body into shimmering lights. She sent those lights up into the night sky above, and a new constellation was created. It was similar to that of the cursed Orion, but far better, more elegant and beautiful.
"The Huntress," Artemis dubbed the constellation aloud. "She who watches over us all."
"Zoë always did love stargazing," Percy said.
Silence hung heavy in the air atop Mt. Tam as everyone grappled with what they had seen, what they were looking at, and what it all meant.
Eventually, business had to be attended to. Artemis summoned her moon chariot, making it big enough for everyone to sit comfortable aboard. Percy rode up front with the goddess, beyond consolation. Through divine magic, the ride to Olympus was but a few seconds, and the council meeting was almost as short, with Zeus doling out orders to what remained of his children to check the old prisons, ensure the loyalty of the other gods, and prepare for war, and then finishing everything with the command for celebration.
Artemis's safe return, and the Winter Solstice.
The demigods were called up from Camp Half-Blood as was tradition, the young heroes relishing the opportunity to party, meet their parents (assuming they were present), drink things they shouldn't be drinking at their ages, and have the most fun they'd had all year, attending an Olympian party.
If the gods knew about Percy's transformation and brutal slaughter of Atlas, they were great at acting casual and unconcerned of the demon lord residing in their midst. However, it seemed only those present on the mountain knew about Amon, but they all knew about Zoë's death, and so wisely stayed very far away from the silent, dark Percy Jackson. Not even Poseidon attempted to console or say anything to his son, knowing that nothing he said or did would be viewed as welcome or helpful.
So Percy stood alone at the furthest, darkest edge of the party, so far away that the sounds were but distant. As such, it was relatively quiet in this balcony sanctuary, with rose bushes lining the outer marble railing, Manhattan sprawled below, a few torches providing light and warmth. Percy's gaze kept travelling between the city and the sky's newest constellation, old dreams of the life he and Zoë wrote about passing through his mind.
Children, watching them grow, growing old together, and eventually passing away to Elysium for a happy eternity, surrounded by grandchildren and even great-grandchildren. Travelling the whole world, seeing whatever they wanted to see, doing whatever they wanted to do, and then eventually settling on a farm to raise chickens and cows and horses, and tend to a garden.
A chain hung around Percy's neck, his golden wedding rings resting together.
His clothes and weapons were all back on him, the Nemean Lion's pelt that took the form of Cheyenne's black prowler coat, her pistols, his Minotaur utility horns, her air rifle and the Sword of Destiny on his back. It had all been found neatly folded and arranged despite Percy having literally torn through it all. His body still ached from when he lost control and transformed.
Inside his unfinished soul, occupied only by the four pieces of Faris, Virgil, Jake, and Cheyenne, it felt like Cheyenne was just as numb as he was, limply resting against Virgil's chest as he gently rocked her back and forth like he'd done with Maria and Christina. Faris and Jake were just there, letting their presence be felt.
Percy's lips were pulled tight when he didn't hear so much as feel someone approach.
"I would like to be alone right now, thank you."
He was ignored, since the person just walked right up next to him anyway, causing a spark of anger to ignite that was on the precipice of erupting into an inferno.
Percy turned, throwing all sense of decorum and Christian forgiveness out the window in favor of giving in to his baser instincts of acting on emotion and impulse, but that all evaporated when he saw just who it was that had come into his company.
Just as tall as he was last time, only his raven hair was shorter, but still pushed backward over his scalp in a mess of thin spikes. His clothes were different as well, trading the black cloak in for a black military-esque uniform with a stiff collar, tight around the arms and upper body, breaking into three coattails at the waist, two and the sides, one at the back, with a red interior. A red cloud stood out at the front, over the diaphragm, and there was another red cloud on the back, between the shoulder blades. The blue pants and open-toed sandals were both black as well, and the white legwarmers were now red. On every finger was a ring comprised of a metallic gray band, a different colored stone, and each stone bearing its own unique kanji symbol.
Percy just stared at him, open-mouthed, and when those sad, glowing red eyes came to look at him, Percy found out that he did indeed have more tears left in him, because he flung himself into his brother's arms and cried into his chest.
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And that's that. The next chapter will be an interlude chapter, with Percy checking back in with the Brotherhood, which will start off the Assassin's Creed modern story of the Animus Project, followed by checking in on one Richard Eliezer Dare (Rachel), who was Arno Dorian, which will in turn be followed by what will be called the "Hellblazer" arc, with Percy and Nico descending into Hell to take back Mary/Bianca's soul, which in turn will be followed by the starting of the Battle of the Labyrinth, which will coincide with the Fifth Life.
We will eventually get there, but like I said up top, I'm feeling kind of burned out on this story right now. I noticed that we're approaching a year since I last updated Sea Devil, and I've been informed that it's been two months since I updated Chosen Ones, but I'm also not really feeling either of those stories.
What I am actually feeling is two things:
The first is that RWBY/Shin'en crossover teased all the way at the beginning of Backup Plan over five years ago and talked about at the end of Armageddon. That's been playing in my mind for a while now.
The second is the Chaos War, but I really want to reserve that for after I have finished Sea Devil and this story. Despite that, I've got the whole first chapter written from start to finish in my head, just waiting to be put to a Word doc.
Any input is welcome.
Fav, Follow, and Review please!