Chapter 4
Circa 500 BCE
Res Publica Romana
Roma, Italia
In full battle armor, Percy stepped out into the god's line of sight. Apollo was staring ahead dreamily, his gaze unfocused and a stupid smile splitting his face.
Rage coursed through his veins. The god of archery didn't deserve any glory, any happiness. After what he did, he deserved nothing but pain and suffering. This would be just the beginning. Percy wouldn't stop here. He would destroy everything the god held dear.
Percy grabbed his javelin and hurled it at Apollo.
The god snapped to attention and sidestepped it easily. Apollo's eyes flickered with shock and anger. They seemed to glow as the god summoned his bow.
Percy drew his gladius and readied his shield. He charged forward as the god let arrows fly. Three bolts streaked down from the top of the hill at blistering speed. He raised his shield to protect himself. Grunting as the arrows slammed into the face of his shield, he stumbled but pushed onward. Percy reached down for the little wooden rod hanging from his belt. He shouted and threw it forward. The rod elongated in the air, growing until it was a full-length javelin, and flew toward Apollo's chest.
The god ducked down, and Percy closed the gap.
"Phoebus Apollo, god of the prophecy!" Percy shouted. "Vengeance has come at last!"
Percy jabbed forward, forcing the god to sidestep. Apollo quickly kicked his sword arm away and hopped backward to put some distance between them.
With a growl, Percy slashed at Apollo's unguarded knees.
The god was able to leap back again, but at this distance, Percy no longer needed his shield. Tossing it to the ground, he used his free hand to draw the dagger strapped to his left hip and threw it at the god. It struck Apollo, opening a cut as it glanced across his shoulder.
As Apollo stared at his wound incredulously, Percy lunged forward and slashed across his chest. Percy kicked him backward.
"Who are you?" the god demanded angrily as he fell to his backside.
Percy disarmed himself. He threw his gladius to the side. He saw Apollo's eyes flicker down and anticipated the strike. The god lunged out with a leg to kick him, but Percy caught it mid-strike. Percy quickly straightened the god's leg and drove his elbow down on the joint, forcing it to bend unnaturally.
Apollo howled in pain.
Percy dropped the god's leg and took a step backward.
Apollo stared up at him in rage and wonder. "What are you? Who are you?"
"You can say an old enemy," Percy said coldly. At Apollo's confused look, he laughed and brought his hands to his helmet. "If you truly want to remember..."
He took his helmet off and tossed it to the side. He stared right at the god, letting him see his sea-green eyes. He reached into his messy hair and produced the old hair clip. At his command, it suddenly elongated into a three-foot-long bronze sword. It was Anaklusmos, his prized possession. He tapped his bracelet, and it spiraled out into a beautiful shield. Carved into the shield was a terrifying image of Medusa's face. The copy of Aegis hadn't aged a day since Athena gave it to him.
He saw the look of recognition in Apollo's eyes.
"You tricked me, remember?" Percy growled.
Apollo flinched, clutching the side of his head. His clothes flickered from Roman to Greek, from warlike to carefree.
"Remember when you got Aphrodite to trick me to 'raping' her? Think Greek."
The flickering faded as the god settled on his Greek form. His eyes were wide with fear and understanding. "Perseus."
"Here's a taste of your own medicine," Percy snarled.
Before Apollo could even make a sound, Percy drove Anaklumos through Apollo's chest, straight into his heart. The image of the battlefield at Troy flashed in his eyes, as he remembered how he had done the exact same thing to Apollo during the war. Carnage, bloodlust and death overwhelmed all his senses, and he pushed Anaklusmos into Apollo's chest all the way to the hilt.
"You..." Apollo was holding onto his wrists, shuddering in pain and shock, trying to push the sword out of his chest. "You..."
Percy yanked the sword away with all his might, letting the god's body flop to the ground. Golden ichor pooled around the god, staining the ground as the pool turned into a lake. Then the god began to glow, and Percy averted his eyes as Apollo flashed away.
For a moment, there was nothing but silence.
Then, just as suddenly, his head began to pound, like something was trying to burst through his skull. Percy collapsed to his knees and screamed as the flashbacks began. The memories of the land beyond the gods flickered in his mind. The pain. The devastation. The destruction.
When his mind cleared, he found himself lying in a fetal position. His head was tight with pain, pounding at the same rhythm as his heart. His senses were heightened beyond his normal capacity, like he'd been infused with enhancement magic. His right hand twitched uncontrollably, as he took shaky breaths.
"Why now...?!"
Percy bit down hard on his tongue, trying to draw himself back from the memories. The pain began to fade as blood filled his mouth. Percy spat it out. His tongue began to swell, but that was hardly noticeable compared to the flashbacks.
"You're going to turn into a mania if this goes on much longer," Percy told himself, trying to calm his nerves. "Calm down. Just think logically. Think logically."
His heart rate calmed down. His breaths evened out. He pulled himself away from the past, latching himself to the present and only the present.
Percy looked out at the city of Rome. He could see a tall figure marching out from the town, donning full battle armor. Even from a distance, Percy could see his height and stature. It was no ordinary Roman. It was Mars himself.
In a head-on battle, Percy didn't stand a chance against the Roman god. Mars had absorbed all the strategy and smarts of Athena. Word must have spread quickly through Olympus.
Percy deactivated all his weapons.
Wounding Apollo was just the beginning. Percy would be back. He would wait for the right timing to destroy Rome. Bringing down an entire people on his own wasn't going to be easy. But it had to be done. Rome could not... would not survive if he had anything to say about it.
Percy turned around and disappeared into the wilderness.
Circa 240 BCE
Res Publica Romana
Syracuse, Sicilia
"You are going insane," Irene chastised. She helped him into the mathematician's study room. "If you continue trying to kill everyone who stands in your way, you will turn into a mania. Face it, Percy. You can't keep trying to do this alone. How many times have you failed?"
Percy glared at her. Half of his body was beyond his control. He was going mad, slowly but surely. He wanted to fight, but he couldn't find the strength. He knew what Irene was saying made sense, but part of him wanted to distrust her. Part of him wanted to kill her.
"He's in quite the predicament," Archimedes observed.
The son of Hephaestus had stopped his work for them. He glanced at Irene and beckoned for an explanation.
Irene told him about the symptoms.
"And you have come to me because...?" Archimedes trailed off.
Percy took a shaky breath, and feeling returned to the numb-half of his body. Pushing himself up into a sitting position, he said, "I need your mechanical expertise."
Archimedes gave him a puzzled smile. "Well, I don't suppose a mortal son of Hephaestus could solve a medical problem any better than an immortal son of Apollo. I hear Asclepius invented an elixir that can revive one's soul from the dead."
"It's not entirely medical," Irene said, eyeing Percy out of the corner of her eyes. "It's mental. I don't expect you to know much about the transition from human to spirit—"
"As you should," agreed the famous engineer. "I deal with the natural world and machinery that can help us better understand it. Not the human body."
"Like that screw you popularized," Percy mumbled.
"Yes." Archimedes stared at the two of them. "But the two of you, who have been living for centuries, should know more about medicine than I. I have not studied the composition of life or the properties of the matter which makes up a living organism. What was it that Hippocrates called them? Humours?"
"He's wrong," Percy said. "There's more to living organisms than that. But I'm not here to discuss the composition of living organisms. I'm here to discuss machinery."
"Machinery... for pain within your mind?"
"I've travelled the lands beyond the gods." Percy grimaced and clenched his fist as the pain returned. "I've seen terrible things, things that would make even the strongest of men go insane. I have endured much, but little would have been possible had it not been for being a son of Poseidon and for having learned how to use magic."
Irene leaned against the wall. "It's a miracle you actually returned alive. Given how long you were gone."
"Exactly." Percy held up his arm, where a nasty bruise had formed. With his other hand, he extended his fingers and laid them gently along the bruise. He summoned the magic within him and healed the bruise. It slowly disappeared until the color faded and his arm returned to normal. "I can heal myself to that extent. Small bruises, cuts. I've harnessed the ability to shroud myself in Mist, powerful enough to even fool demigods."
Archimedes stroked his beard. "And how, exactly, does magic have anything to do with my mechanical expertise."
"I'm getting there," Percy assured him. "With the memories haunting me, threatening to turn me into a mania, I need some sort of outlet. I need something that I can filter my emotions through. I need something to soothe my mind, to calm me down. I was hoping that you could come up with some sort of invention to help me, some sort of machinery that I can enchant."
"Enchant? Like how?"
"Like putting a part of me inside a machine or contraption or something."
"You mean... like the rumors of Daedalus?" Archimedes' eyes lit up like he'd discovered a brand new idea. "The mixture of machine, man and magic?"
"The rumors of Daedalus?" Percy asked.
Irene nodded. She pursed her lips. "When you were in exile, during the invasion of Achaea by the Dorians, people stumbled upon an underground lair on Crete. I've investigated it myself. I convinced Homer, the one who told the story of the Trojan War and Odysseus' journey back to Ithaca, to omit the passage from his stories. The stories claimed Daedalus had somehow survived and transferred his soul into the body of an automaton he'd built. The gods were in a state of turmoil with the fall of Mycenaean Greece. They weren't in any condition to do much, so it was up to the few of us remaining to cover up all the stories."
"How much changed in the time I was gone?"
"A lot. You were never mentioned in stories of the Argonauts and the Trojan War. Your name was erased from the history books. Likely Zeus' will after you were banished. Just like how my name was removed from Trojan history. A traitor to my brother."
"If the rumors about Daedalus are true, then it is possible to fuse magic and machinery," Archimedes said. He stepped forward. "Even if history does not remember your names, I will not forget the Everlasting Hero and the Champion of None."
The son of Hephaestus scrambled over to one of his workbenches and fiddled around with some of the devices on his desk. After a brief pause, Archimedes turned around and held out a small device. It was a mechanical sphere with a groove running around its center. Archimedes grabbed the sphere on either side of the groove and twisted. The two halves of the sphere turned in opposite directions, transforming the groove into a gap the width of his little finger. A white mist escaped the interior of the device. It rose up and evaporated into the air.
"How did you trap the mist inside there?" Irene asked in amazement.
"It's a little trick to rapidly cool down and store water vapour," the inventor grinned.
He explained how he was able to accomplish such a task with a bunch of terms that Percy didn't understand. Percy just stared at him and nodded, as if he knew what was going on.
When Archimedes was done, Percy asked, "So can you do that for me?"
"It depends on what you want to store inside."
"Memories and emotions."
"Memories... and emotions..." Archimedes looked puzzled. "What do you mean? Do you mean to create a copy of your memories and store them inside for others to see?"
Percy shook his head. "No. I mean to strip the memories and emotions down to its bare bones and to keep the vivid details within the spheres. That way, I can stop having these terrible flashbacks. I can work in peace to destroy Rome."
Archimedes glanced at Irene. "I understand that it is not really my place to judge, but are you truly condoning this? It isn't the mortals' fault, is it?"
"Whether Irene stands in my way or not, I will accomplish what I need to," Percy scowled. "Regardless of what must be done to get there. There's no other way to reduce Apollo and Mars to nothing."
"Surely you don't think you can do this on your own? To destroy an entire nation?"
"That's why it's time to get those demons out of my head so that I can finally see clearly. I will find the right path and end Rome for good, even if it takes me a millennium."
Archimedes looked at Irene again. She shook her head and looked away, refusing to answer his questions. Her eyes were an odd mixture of sadness and anger, but he couldn't quite place why she was staying silent. She really was the Champion of None. She did what she wanted, how she wanted, when she wanted.
Percy reached for the old hair clip and walked over to Archimedes. He set the hair clip on Archimedes' workbench. "I also want you to do one more thing."
"What is it?"
"I need something innocuous, like a bronze rod. I want to transfer the power of the sword into that bronze rod and have it activate only by my touch. Each human has a very specific pattern on his or her fingertips that cannot be copied. I want something that can detect the fingerprints so that the rod turns into my sword."
Archimedes held his hand up to his face and studied the prints. "Ah, I see what you mean. There are patterns of ridges."
"Can you do it? The sword and the spheres?"
The son of Hephaestus glanced at Irene one last time. When she didn't give a response, he pursed his lips and took a deep breath through his nose. He didn't look at Percy, keeping his eyes focused on the empty space around their feet. But Percy didn't need eye contact. All he needed was action.
Archimedes spoke, "Stay in Syracuse for a week. You will have everything you desire."
Circa 73 BCE
Res Publica Romana
Capua, Italia
"Just watch," Percy told the Thracian. "I'll kill the Roman easily. Tell me exactly how you want me to finish him off, and I'll do it. In return, I want you to begin the plans for revolution. You've pushed it off for too long now."
Spartacus clenched his jaw. "For good reason."
"Well, I want you to start now. I hope you'll be watching."
Percy watched as one of the Roman guards strode up to him and gestured toward the arena. Percy gave one last look to Spartacus before standing up and following the guard.
"Why do you even want to talk to such lowly folk?" the guard asked quizzically.
Percy smirked. "Why not? They are human after all. Might as well treat them as such while they fight for survival."
"As if they're real humans," the Roman snorted.
Percy bit back a retort and silently made his way toward the arena. Here, there was no mercy. In gladiator rings, there was only life and death. If you lived, you didn't die. If you died, you no longer lived. It was a simple and cruel fate. They were subject to entertainment, as if watching two men fighting each other to the death was somehow entertaining.
Romans were a brutal bunch. Percy wasn't excusing the Greeks from all the terrible things they did, but killing was not a spectator sport. Killing was horrifying and should only be done if necessary. After Archimedes gave him the spheres, the world had become clearer around him. He wasn't subject to panic attacks, to random bouts of anger and rage. His attack on Apollo and Mars would not be a sputtering fire. It would be a gradual and agonizing, like chaining them to rocks and sending an eagle to feast on their livers each day.
"Do you need any equipment?" the Roman asked as they reached the gates.
Percy shook his head. "I have my own."
"Very well."
The gates opened before him, and he stepped out.
The stands were littered with spectators. It was a small arena. Percy could see one of the consuls watching along, surrounded by a group of patricians and guards. Among them was a relatively new politician that Percy had grown close to named Gaius Julius Caesar.
The young man sought to rule over Rome as its rightful leader, a descendant of Aeneas. Percy had convinced him to unite both the Greeks and Romans in his quest for power. Caesar had agreed, and though Percy could see great potential for treachery, he also saw great potential for strength. Irene, Aeneas' little sister, was one of the most powerful demigods he'd ever known. Caesar had that same fire to him. But he was also weak enough that, if Percy really wanted, he could kill the young Roman and end his dreams and aspirations.
Even though, going by the numbers, there weren't actually that many people in the arena, it looked packed. Word must've gone around that the warrior of a new, up-and-coming politician was ready to fight.
The roar of the crowd echoed in his ears as he waited for his opponent to arrive. Pacing around slowly, he analyzed the battlefield. They changed it for each match. This time the theme was 'wilderness.' There were man-made pools of water and small trees that had been planted, just to add to the fun. He looked over to the building, where the prisoners could watch the match through a barred window.
Percy caught Spartacus' eyes. The Thracian gestured to his collarbone and mimicked plunging a sword downward. Percy nodded. That was how he was going to kill his opponent.
The gates on the other side opened, and a middle-aged man walked out, a confident smile on his face. The man's name was Lucius and he had a reputation for being a brutal fighter.
The gates slammed shut, and Lucius sneered at him.
A loud voice shouted from the stands: "Fight!"
Percy tapped his bracelet, and Aegis sprung to life. Lucius' confident smile faltered for a moment.
If Percy had done his research correctly, Lucius was a former Roman soldier. He'd fought in the army, but he was convicted of treason for plotting to kill his master and was sold into slavery. He was a burly, tall man. Rumor had it that he was actually half-Gallic, which was why he was much taller than the average Greek or Roman.
His strategy was definitely offensive. Lucius used his size to his strength. He wielded a longer sword, not the gladius, and it more resembled a Greek leaf-shaped sword.
Lucius charged forward, holding his sword steadily in front of him. He kept his shield down and thrust forward, using his sword like a Roman gladius.
Percy twisted to the side, avoiding the strike completely. He unhooked the bronze rod hanging from his belt and swung forward. Lucius looked surprised to see a sword appear seemingly out of thin air and barely deflected the strike.
Lucius kicked forward, knocking Percy off-balance. The burly Roman stabbed forward again. Maintaining his footing, Percy deflected the attack with his shield and stabbed forward himself. Anaklusmos was blocked by Lucius' own shield.
The two of them backed off, trying to gather their thoughts and get a better read on how to attack the opponent.
After a brief pause, Lucius charged again.
Percy knew a feint was coming. He shifted his body into the same stance he used when he twisted to the side. Lucius bit on his counter-feint, faking a thrust before slashing across. Fortunately for Percy, the Roman had decided to do a forehand slash for a quick strike. Bringing a sword from one's dominant side across to the non-dominant side, all with his palm facing downward, generated very little power and had almost no support from arm and shoulder muscles. In contrast, a backhand slash that starts from the non-dominant side involves enough rotation in the body, particularly the shoulders, to power through a defense.
Percy caught the blade on his hilt and twisted downward, forcing Lucius to drop his sword. Percy swept his legs out from underneath him before he had a chance to defend himself with his shield. Before he could re-orient himself, Percy had Anaklusmos to his neck.
"Yield!" Percy shouted.
Lucius let out a guttural growl. "Swine."
Percy flicked the point of his sword across Lucius' cheek and slashed down across his shield arm. Lucius dropped his shield and clutched his arm in pain.
The crowd roared with approval, cheering Percy's name, his real name. Perseus.
Percy looked up at the consul, who nodded and drew his finger across his neck. Percy looked back down at the Roman.
"On your knees!" Percy barked.
Lucius clenched his fists and obeyed the order.
Percy bowed his head toward the Roman and said, "You lived life the best you could. No one has the right to judge whether your actions were morally justified or repugnant. But you were dealt the wrong hand in your life, and now it is time for it to come to an end."
"I've survived ten years here," Lucius said, his eyes cold and unforgiving. "I've done nothing but kill. I will go to the Fields of Punishment. But what of you, champion of Caesar? Where will you go when your time has come?"
Anger rose to his chest, but he held it in and settled for a strained glare. "Who knows where I will go? But my time hasn't come. And it won't come for a very long time."
Percy brought the point of his sword to Lucius' collarbone and drove it down through the gap until it pierced the man's heart. Percy watched as life escaped the man's lips with the softest touch, like a puff of air. Percy watched as the man's eyes dulled and dilated, and as he pulled Anaklusmos out, the man's body collapsed like a sack of grain.
Percy closed Lucius' eyes as the servants rushed into the arena. Wearily, they dragged his body out of the arena, his blood trailing on the ground. The crowd cheered again as Lucius' dead body was pulled into the prison.
In the prison window, Spartacus wore a smile. They locked eyes, and an understanding passed between them. Spartacus nodded, confirming that he would begin his revolt. Over in the stands, Percy saw Julius Caesar shaking the consul's hand. Caesar glanced over at Percy and gave him a knowing look. Percy held up his thumb, raising his eyebrows in question. Caesar nodded and returned the gesture.
Percy smiled. His new plan had begun. It might take centuries, but he would see to the complete and utter annihilation of the Romans. He would make them great and then bring upon them a collapse even worse than that of the Dorian invasion of Mycenaean Greece. He would make Apollo and Mars watch helplessly as Rome turned into a wasteland, where not even the rats would remember what once stood on the land they scavenged upon.
Slowly but surely, he would destroy them. Thank you, Archimedes. Thank you, Irene.
Hey all,
I've been bogged down quite a bit this past week with life stuff and work. I've been meaning to keep myself a certain number of chapters ahead of you all, but I haven't met that standard this week. So next week there won't be an update, but I thought I'd give you all a little hint of Percy before the brief break. Hopefully, I'll get things sorted out and updated two weeks from now.
I think these are the scenes that give you all further insight into why Percy has had to wait so long to finally tear down the Romans. Not everything goes according to plan, and some plans fail. I decided that the details of those failures wouldn't make for a good story.
As well, to address potential questions about the character 'Irene,' I've been debating about whether I should develop her character here or use her as a background character. As mentioned, she is referred to as the 'Champion of None.' If she's incorporated, there's more individual Zoë scenes. I don't think incorporating her or not incorporating her changes much of the story other than expansion of depth? I'm not too great at character development lol.
Have a great week!
Sharky