Percy Jackson's Point of View:
I was angry. My Wise-Girl, the love of my life, was laying battered and broken in my arms. Her shallow and shaky breathing was the only indication I had that she was alive. An earthen dagger was buried into her leg, an impact from what looked like a fist, crumpling her chest piece, and a cut from her hairline down to above her eye. The ribs in her chest were most likely broken and causing untold internal damage. I pleaded with her to desperately stay awake because help was coming.
A duo of Apollo campers came hurrying down at my call, and they took away the one person I couldn't lose above all. As soon as they disappeared, my worry turned into an immense and righteous fury. Even after everything we have been through together, all of our struggles, we couldn't catch a break. The ground around me was sluggishly churning, like a whirlpool beneath my feet. The waves at the beach beat harder and harder as the air around me rapidly humidified. The rain pelted at the ground like a hailstorm of bullets, slowly empowering me with ever-growing strength. The terrain was chaotic with battle and ongoing storms happening above it.
I was snapped out of my reverie when a Dracaena from the Earth Mother's Army charged at me. My feet tensing against Half-Blood Hill, I lunged, grabbing the midsection of her spear and yanking it out of her grasp. I stabbed the monster through the chest with its spear and as she turned to dust, turned and threw it at a passing Earthborn. Pulling my trusty pen out of my pocket, I began slashing, stabbing, cutting, and jabbing at the oncoming horde. I ran into a Giant who was felled by my sword and a Demigod's arrows. I slashed at the werewolf who howled in pain upon contact. I cut across the exposed throat of a lunging empousa. I talked and jabbed my sword through the chest of a mad gryphon.
Finally, I heard the cold, evil, and maniacal feminine laugh that belonged to Gaea. She gazed down upon the battlefield with her icy and piercing eyes. The fire inside my chest increased in temperature as I saw the perpetrator of the fighting around me. She seemed uncaring about the suffering she brought on with her conquest for power. I suddenly connected the dots which only fueled the raging inferno in my chest. An earthen dagger was lodged inside of Annabeth's leg. One used to cut her face, and the fist imprint in her celestial bronze body armour led me to believe she was attacked by Gaea directly. I picked up a battle axe that lay on the field to my right and charged at the crazy bitch to try to take away my world. A look of rage etched on my face.