Disclaimer: Percy Jackson and the Olympians and The Heroes of Olympus belong to Rick Riordan. Cover art image belongs to the lovely Viria.

AN: Yes, another "Percy joins Chaos' Army" fic. But I had fun writing it, and I hope you enjoy reading it. I am open to suggestions and critiques. Thank you!

5 years after the Giant War

Percy

There was a time when I thought the celebrations would never end. Sure, there were plenty of sad times, too. Burning shrouds of our fallen comrades, we spoke of heroic deeds and times when they had made us laugh as if they had just happened, as if they would happen again. But, no. Our fallen friends would live on in Elysium and in our temples and epics, but not on Earth.

After we watched the final curl of fabric turning into ash and after the last, choked sob broke from a brother's lips, we would step back in reverence and return to reality, a place in which we lived. Reality, that place where we had survived and won. We won, dammit. So we threw ourselves into festivities, into telling and retelling the epic battles that we had won and earned our hero titles. So, why? Why did it all seem so empty to me at the time?

I was happy when we won. I was happy when the celebrations began. I was happy when we began restoring the camp back to its former glory, back to how it was before the war. I was happy when, after almost two months of being gone, Leo returned with Calypso, and she forgave me. I was happy when Greeks and Romans, together, formed an unshakeable alliance in that battle. I was happy to have my friends by my side. I was happy when I was with them, with my friends and with my Wise Girl.

But night would come, as it always does. And each night I would approach my own bed, in my own cabin, which I had fought so hard to defend, with a weight on my shoulders and a throbbing in my head, knowing that this night would be just like the last. I would settle in, slip into unconsciousness, sleep, and suddenly the nightmares would be there. Visions of Luke killing himself and Kronos, Tartarus taunting me and Annabeth as we raced along the Phlegethon, Gaea rising all because of me and a stupid nosebleed, holding up the sky so that others could fight, leaving Beckendorf to die on the Princess Andromeda, stepping into the river Styx, closing the Doors of Death. Everything rushed at me, consuming my nights and my sanity. I would wake screaming, breathing heavy, covered in cold sweat, with the same words echoing in my head every time.

Wake, hero, and come to die. I am rising.

I may be a Seaweed Brain, but I am not stupid. I went straight to Annabeth. She would know what to do; she always knows what to do. After talking to her, I did feel better. She told me, in small words but with great care and affection, that she thought it was PTSD. She told me that she was having nightmares too, that many people were. I felt better, her telling me that, but it didn't stop the nightmares. The more time went on, the more I came to dread sleep. Annabeth must've told Tyson, because he came to see me quite often and would stay the night. Those nights, I wouldn't sleep at all. I didn't want to wake him, didn't want him or anyone to see just how much I was affected by these nightmares, or visions.

After a certain amount of time, I was convinced it was more than just stress, and I went to Chiron about it. I told him that I was having visions of a dark… something, and that it was going to rise. I told him that I was having nightmares of my dead friends. I told him that we needed to warn the gods and be on guard because something was rising. He sent word to Will, who hooked me up with sleep medication. I took them, because I was really concerned I was going crazy.

People started looking at me strangely after that. I stopped talking so much, stopped laughing so much. I spent most of my days on the beach, just staring out. I would sit by myself or sometimes Grover or one of the Seven would sit by me. I found myself crying a lot, but not knowing why.

Eventually I stopped going to the beach. I stayed in Cabin Three all day, not even coming out for meals. Annabeth tried to talk to me, tried to get me to let her in, but I couldn't. I couldn't make her understand what was happening to me. I Iris-messaged my dad, hoping he would understand. He told me that I needed to relax; we had already won the war.

Pounding on my door became more and more frantic, but I never let anyone in. I was going insane. My brain was seriously messed up, and I could barely function. I went to my mom's apartment, but that only lasted a week. She was so worried about me and I couldn't see her look at me like that. I went back to Camp Half-Blood. I stayed in my cabin, hardly ate, never slept. I played a lot of Tetris, trying to keep my mind off of the fact that I was going insane. I went mad, then I got mad.

Why would no one believe me? There was a serious threat and nobody cared. We had defeated Gaea, so what could possibly be worse? We, "Heroes" of Olympus, could defeat anything, right? Wrong! I could see the stares, hear the whispers. I felt disconnected somehow. I was watching myself fall apart, but I couldn't stop it. I went to the gods, tried to make them understand, but they cast me out and told me I was crazy. Apparently, if they couldn't feel something stirring, how could I?

Annabeth found me on a secluded beach one day. She broke up with me. She was crying, and I was crying, but that didn't stop her. She said I needed time and space, as if it were my fault.

When fall came and school started, I threw myself into it. I finished all of my classes in the fall semester and graduated early, ahead of Annabeth and all my friends. Then, I left.

I left Camp Half-Blood to figure out what happened to my mind and who the mysterious voice in my dreams was.

What I found was that I was not alone in my concern for a rising threat. There was another, an ancient god, forgotten by mortals and nearly so by gods and demigods. He came to me and offered me a job, a chance to work with him to defeat this threat. And so, I gave up my old name, my old home, even my old planet. I took on the role of a soldier.

A soldier of Chaos.

AN: Hope you like the first chapter. I know it sounds dark, but it will pick up! I have plans.