Perseus.
Son of one of the faded Greek Gods, Poseidon. Last of the Greeks. An immortal with hydrokinesis, cryokinesis, water breathing, enhanced strength, and a whole list of other powers.
Perseus was alone. All of his friends, family, and even enemies died. All of the gods were forgotten, left to fade. You would think that Perseus would also fade or die with the rest of the Greek Pantheon. But Perseus was a different breed of immortals. He was a rare breed, one who stayed eternally youthful and could stay alive through almost any circumstance. Paired with the Curse of Achilles, he was literally invincible.
And it scared him. For a man with a fatal flaw of personal loyalty, it was excruciating and painful, seeing all he cared for fade away into death. It felt like a personal betrayal to all his loved ones, for him to stay alive while they move on. Lost in grief for centuries, he stayed holed up in the once magnificent city of Atlantis, a city that crumbled with the passing of its king, Poseidon.
Percy, short for Perseus, had stayed in Atlantis for more than 11 centuries, grieving after the fall of Greece. Over the course of those 11 centuries, he had developed his skills, his powers, achieving a level of strength far exceeding even the Great Three, Zeus, Hades, and Poseidon. His ADHD and dyslexia had stopped after his first death to a Kraken. During his time in the vast oceans, he met and fought many sea creatures. Some of the creatures lived so deep on the ocean floors, so close to the core of the Earth, that he actually died from the pressure a couple of times. But after five or six deaths, his body adjusted, adapted and the deep sea pressure felt like regular gravity levels to him.
Every expedition to an unexplored part of the oceans proved to be a challenge for him but every time he came back to Atlantis, he would come back much stronger.
With every adventure in the deep seas, he felt lonelier and lonelier. He realized that under the surface of the water, there was no one like him. He was alone.
You see, Percy was special, even for an immortal. He was an immortal with godly blood. Divine blood. He had ichor flowing through his veins. He was different from the other immortals. He wasn't connected to the other immortals either. He didn't know about the others on the surface.
Percy had only gone up to the surface a few times to find out what was going on in the world. He never stayed too long, just enough to learn about world geography, world history, and some languages.
And now, hundreds of years of exploring come to an end. Percy explored every inch, every centimeter of the oceans. The waters were now completely familiar to him, allowing him to sense hundreds of thousands of miles away underwater.
Pale as can be, Percy finally decided to head up to the surface of the sea near the coast of North America.
Imagine his surprise when he was almost hit by an iron statue, a couple of miles away from the surface. Or what he thought was an iron statue.
Grabbing what was thrown into the ocean to get a better look, Percy realized that there was something, someone inside.