Join my discord ( discord . gg / f4QKRSekFS) [No spaces] to interact with fellow readers, ask me questions, and pester me about updates :)

Percy

The guards patrolling New Rome's borders were jarringly inept. Where once watchful eyes had peered out into the night, Percy saw only wide-mouthed yawns and feigned vigilance. Only a few years prior he had been forced to weave complex magic in order to pass their predecessors by. Today, achieving the same required little more than a light step and comfort in the shadows.

None contested him as he crossed the Pomerian line. Even Terminus, the omnipresent warden of the city, did not trouble him. Given his visit was on Diana's behest – which by godly decree was an extension of Olympus' own – Percy could only reason that the God of Boundaries had been forewarned of the coming intrusion. It was likely the god would demand recompense when next they met, but Percy hadn't much care for the grievances of a minor god such as he.

With his path unobstructed by both man and myth, Percy made a clean approach to the building he sought. It was a villa of grandiose design whose size was surmounted only by its splendor. Perched atop one of New Rome's largest hills, the building dominated the nearby landscape. Only the temples of the gods themselves commanded a more esteemed position over the city. This was the home of the Senate's speaker, and one of his oldest friends.

Though complacency appeared to rule New Rome's soldiers now, it did not hold sway over him. While the villa's front door sat slightly ajar, Percy was not enticed. Discretion was his muse, and it guided him not to the front of the home, but to its rear. There, the thick brick walls provided purchase for climbing, and the surrounding flora ample cover. He ascended with haste, scrabbling brick by brick until he deposited himself on the largest balcony hanging from the second floor.

A nearby window – presumably left open to welcome the refreshingly chilled night air – gave him a point of access. He passed through it, emerging in a bedroom of lavish design. It was painfully clean, and almost entirely lacking in personal effects. The only sign the room had ever seen any life was the slightly rumpled bedsheet.

Percy was, admittedly, quite thankful for the room's vacancy. Though he knew Reyna well, it wouldn't do to be caught with his hand in the proverbial cookie jar. He was dropping in unannounced, and that would go over infinitely better if he met her in her study rather than her pajamas.

Upon leaving her room, he found himself at the top of a grand staircase. At its foot, two figures were locked in a heated discussion. The first of the pair he recognized. The second, and the one who drew his focus, was one entirely unfamiliar to him.

He was, admittedly, a rather tough-looking kid. He had enough bulk to make most men wary, and a scar running from ear to chin further emphasized his hardened appearance. On his arm, three stripes were emblazoned beneath the image of a laurel wreath.

The child of Victoria was growing increasingly angry as Percy watched from afar. One could only assume that meant he was losing. Though Percy would've liked to watch Reyna take him to the cleaners, he had already dallied long enough.

"I hate to interrupt," he called out to them, "But Senator Arellano and I have business."

Both people turned to face him. Reyna looked pissed, while the child of Victoria only looked confused. It was the latter who spoke first.

"This is a private meeting," the kid said, "You shouldn't be here."

"Yeah, well, meeting's over. Why don't you take a hike?"

"Take a hike? Do you have any idea who you're talking to? I'm a praetor of the twelfth legion, and if you don't report to your cohort's barracks right now, I'll make sure you're a probatio again by morning."

Percy just rolled his eyes and hiked up his sleeve to reveal his tattoo-less forearm.

"I'm not a legionnaire. Your threats don't mean shit to me."

The praetor did not much appreciate the blatant disregard for his authority. Reyna forgotten, the son of Victoria stormed over to place himself nose to nose with Percy. Though he was a few inches shorter and a few inches younger, the kid showed no fear. He even went so far as to drop his hand to the hilt of his sword. Were he a coward, Percy might've been cowed by the gesture. He wasn't though, and all the threat did was earn a modicum of respect.

"You've got balls, I'll give you that," Percy told him, "But you and I play in different leagues."

Using his offhand, Percy reached for the collar of his shirt and tugged it aside. The praetor's gaze fell on Percy's left breast, where a brand burned as hotly now as it had the day it'd been seared into his flesh. Anger turned to fear in the young Roman's eyes. Percy welcomed the sight, not because he enjoyed provoking terror, but because it was often the only ally he could trust.

"This isn't over," The kid snapped. He turned to Reyna, regathering his courage with each word he spoke. "I expect you in my chambers first thing tomorrow morning."

"Of course, Praetor Wolfe," Reyna said, "I'll see you then."

Reyna's submission, however small, was enough to sate Wolfe's ego for the time being. He gave Reyna a curt nod and Percy a scathing glare, and then he was on his way. Percy watched him go, waiting until he was out of earshot to let his feelings be known.

"Who's the douche?"

"Right now, Percy, you are. What the hell were you thinking talking to him like that?"

"I'm not taking shit from a wannabe badass like him. You shouldn't either."

"That 'wannabe badass' is Sam Wolfe, and he didn't become praetor by asking nicely."

"Of course he didn't. He became praetor because Zhang got tired of doing paperwork."

"That's how the position opened up. It's not how he filled it."

"C'mon Reyna. Don't tell me you're afraid of this kid."

"I'd be a fool if I wasn't. He's smart and ambitious, and his influence is on the rise."

"Yeah, maybe," Percy conceded, "But you're still a senator and a member of the Seven. He may be praetor, but you and I both know who holds the real power in New Rome."

"We do," Reyna agreed, "And so does he. That's what concerns me."

"You think you're a target?"

"I'm the target, Percy."

"Let him come for you then. I'll have your back."

"This is a political power struggle, Percy. The last thing I need right now is public support from the one person both camps universally despise."

"Point taken. I'll keep my support annoyingly private."

"It's too late for that," Reyna snapped, "You pissed him off. Worse, you did it after coming from my bedroom. By tomorrow morning the camp won't just think we're allies. They'll think we're screwing!"

"You think he would stoop that low?"

"I think he'd do anything to win. I may have the majority vote in the senate now but believe me when I say that enough of them hate you for this to make a difference."

Her voice cracked near the end. Alarm bells went off in Percy's mind immediately. It was rare that Reyna showed any sign of vulnerability. That her even-keeled exterior was cracking now told him that inside she had been near crumbling for days.

"Hey, relax." He placed a hand on either of her shoulders and forced her to meet his eyes. "I'll visit him tomorrow morning and smooth things over. If he gives you any more trouble, it won't be because of me."

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it. Now c'mon. I didn't come here because I like talking politics, and I'm getting tired of standing in your foyer like a tourist."

Reyna led him to the lounge, where they each found a suitably comfortable spot on the couch. On the coffee table, a decanter filled with amber liquid caught his attention. He was quick on the pour, offering a glass to both Reyna and himself before either could get in a word. Reyna gave a nod of appreciation before downing her glass in a single gulp. Percy was not so fast, and chose instead to savor the burning in his throat with each sip.

"That's damn good," he told her, "How'd you sneak it by Terminus?"

"If a magician told you how she did it, it wouldn't be magic."

"Keep your secrets then. I don't care how you did it. I'm just glad you did. I've been needing a drink."

"So I've heard."

Percy winced.

"Diana?"

Reyna nodded.

"I was spared the final details, but I know enough. What those bastards did to you, turning you back into… It's just not right."

"I appreciate that, really, I do, but I don't need your pity."

Reyna set down her empty glass with a grimace. There was a pause, and then she was sliding across the couch until their thighs touched. She was close now. So close that he could smell the freshly downed scotch on her breath. Her gaze captured his, and those piercing black eyes he could never read held him captive until she finally spoke.

"One day I hope you learn the difference between pity and compassion," she murmured.

Percy swallowed.

"Call it whatever you want. I'm not interested in it no matter what costume it wears."

"Then what are you interested in? Because you said it yourself, you didn't come here to stir up trouble with the new praetor."

"You're right. I didn't. I need a favor."

Her face fell, though Percy didn't know why. She had always been about business. There was no reason for today to be any different.

"Alright," she said, "How can I help?"

This time, it was Percy's turn to set down his drink.

"Those people Diana told you about? They're stealing from the Amazons. I've looked over their books, and I've already found at least a dozen shipments of celestial bronze that have been skimmed in the past year."

"That's concerning, but I don't see how I can help. Your Amazons and my Amazons aren't the same."

"No," Percy agreed, "But they do have one thing in common. Trade. I need you to talk to Hylla and find out if their shipments are being taken as well."

"Easy enough. Anything else?"

Percy nodded.

"A few naiads told me that monster activity has been spiking. That, plus the thefts, has me worried that something big is coming. I need you to keep your ear to the ground here. Maybe check out a few of the military stockrooms for missing equipment. At the very least, you should try to find some discrepancies in your ledgers."

"Are you insane, Percy? I'm not a legionnaire, I'm a citizen. I don't have the authorization to look at military files anymore."

"Didn't we have this conversation already? You are the authorization."

"And I won't be if I get caught snooping around. Wolfe is out for blood, and if I give him this, I'll be ousted faster than you can say coup d'état."

"I know that. But I wouldn't be asking if it wasn't important. Someone had to put these mortals up to this. And if they're involving mortals, they're sure as shit involving your camp."

"Percy, I'm not–"

"Reyna, please. These people messed with my brain, and they used me for some grand scheme I can't even begin to understand. If I don't stop it, then I'm complicit. Don't make me live through that again."

Reyna looked conflicted for a moment, but his plea was not to be ignored.

"Alright, fine. I'll help you. But you owe me one. No, two, actually."

"Two it is."

"Then we have a deal," she said, "so long as you promise to answer my IMs from now on."

Percy smiled.

"Consider it done."

Percy

The Office of the Praetor lacked the extravagant design seen throughout much of New Rome. The city sought beauty as much as it did function, but such thinking did not extend to the Legion. For them, the look of a pilum mattered much less than its point. Wolfe, infatuated with power and status though he was, still embodied that pragmatic spirit. It was evident in his bare office, and even moreso in the terse tone with which he greeted Percy.

"Percy Jackson," he said, "Here to do the Senator's dirty work?"

"Reyna has never needed someone to fight her battles for her."

"And yet here you are, representing her all the same."

"I'm nobody's attack dog. I'm here because I need a favor."

"A favor?" His voice did little to mask his disbelief. "What in Jupiter's name makes you think I'd help you of all people?"

"You're a smart kid, Wolfe. Reyna said as much herself. And because you're smart, you know that it's better to have me in your corner. All it will take for that to happen is one measly little note. You give it to me, and I'll owe you a favor. No questions asked."

"Alright, I'll bite. What do you want this 'little note' to say?"

"There's a certain prisoner under your jurisdiction. I want a permission slip that lets me talk to him whenever I please. And I want privacy when I do it."

"I hope you don't mean–"

"I do."

Wolfe let out a low whistle as he leaned back in his chair. He stroked his chin for a moment, and then,

"This is no small ask. If I give you this, you'll owe me a big favor. One that I can cash in whenever I please."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. The other shoe has to drop. Just give me the damn note."

Wolfe didn't waste any time pretending he hadn't agreed. He quickly ducked behind his desk, where he rifled around in a drawer for a moment before emerging with a pen, parchment, wax, and a letter seal. He set about scrawling some orders in painfully tight print. They were finalized with a surprisingly elegant signature and a bit of hot wax to seal their arrangement.

"This will get you what you need," Wolfe promised, "And if it doesn't, tell me which Legionnaire denied me so I can have him sent to Siberia."

"My thanks," Percy said. He scooped the letter from Wolfe's hand and made to leave but stopped on a dime once he reached the door. "Oh, and one more thing."

Wolfe raised an eyebrow.

"The deal is done. I'm not giving you anything else."

"Actually, you are. But this isn't part of the deal, and it isn't negotiable."

The praetor crossed his arms defiantly.

"I don't cave to threats, Jackson."

"You do to mine."

A protest rolled around in Wolfe's throat, but it never saw the light of day. The look in Percy's eyes made certain of that.

"Just tell me what you want," He finally said.

"It's simple, really. Against my better judgement, I've agreed to stay out of your little spat with Reyna. For your own sake, I would advise you don't drag me into it."

"So, you are fighting her battles."

"No, I'm fighting mine. Reyna is my friend, and she's sacrificed more for me than I ever deserved. Use whatever nasty tricks you want, but don't you dare use me to disparage her. Because if I have to choose between your life and her reputation, you won't like which side I take."

Wolfe's eyes narrowed but, surprisingly, he was not quick to anger or fear as he'd been the night prior.

"Alright. I'll do as you say… But know this. If you ever threaten my life again, I won't just lie down, because I would sooner die than let New Rome be bullied by scum like you."

"I can respect that… Until next time, Wolfe."

Whatever the praetor said, Percy didn't catch it, as he was already out the door. He had to see about a Titan.

Percy

The base of Mount Tamalpais was guarded by some thirty Romans and a truckload of Imperial Gold armaments. They were a poor replacement for Ladon. That dickhead of a dragon would never have been appeased by a single letter. Unlike the famed guardian of the garden, New Rome's finest were easily placated by Praetor Wolfe's swooping signature.

The sheet of parchment worked as a master key, granting Percy access not only to the garden, but to the ruins that towered above them. There, among the wreckage of a revitalized dynasty long quelled, he found the prisoner he sought. The man was massive, his face marred by scars, and his eyes filled with hate. The vindictive scowl he bore fit his face so well that there was no doubt he'd been born wearing it.

"Atlas," Percy greeted, "It's been a long time."

"Not long enough," the Titan snarled, "You've got some nerve showing your face to me."

"You've got some nerve showing your face to anyone. I know burn victims who would hurl at the sight of you."

Percy could see in the tensing of his muscles that Atlas wanted nothing more than to drop the sky and unleash his rage. Knowing he couldn't, the Titan settled for a bitter remark.

"Gah, I've always hated your smart mouth."

"You have. Which is how I know you'll jump at the chance to shut me up."

"If by shut you up, you mean rip out your pine and shove it so far up your–"

"You're not a fan. I get it. Now listen. I'll leave right now if you tell me which Titan is stirring up trouble."

"I don't know what you're talking about. My family isn't the 'stop and pay a visit' type."

"Don't play with me. You used to be the General of Kronos' army, and now you're nothing but a primordial contraceptive. You've got an axe to grind, and that means there's no way the guy I'm looking for went to mortals before he came to you."

"Maybe he did. Maybe he didn't. Either way, I'm telling you anything."

"You might be once I tell you that when all this is over, I'll make sure he goes under the sky. You'll get a nice cushy spot in Tartarus, where you can stretch your legs and bully monsters for millennia."

Even between his rage and the strain of his heavy burden, Atlas found it within himself to give a dark chuckle.

"I must admit, Jackson… For all that he was wrong about you, Kronos got one thing right. You know how the game is played."

"Does that mean you want the deal?"

"Of course I do! But I'm no fool. The Olympians would sooner throw you into Tartarus with me than cut a deal of your design. I like my chances of getting out from under here a lot better without you."

"So to be clear… That's a no?"

"And a hearty 'go fuck yourself' too."

"A shame. We could've made such a great team."

With a sigh, Percy summoned his sword to his hand.

"Last chance," He warned.

The Titan didn't budge. Slowly, Percy maneuvered his way behind Atlas. He gave his sword a few test swings, making sure that each one sliced the air with enough force that Atlas could hear the blade in motion. When he still didn't cave, Percy did the only thing he could do. He drew back his sword and, with all the strength he could muster, drove it straight through the fleshiest portion of Atlas' hamstring.

Atlas let out a roar of agony. Above him, the sky began to sink as his grip failed. For a moment it appeared the sky would flatten him, but Atlas' supreme strength and endurance ensured his recovery. As the sky returned to its rightful place atop the Titan's shoulders, Percy had circled back to the front. Atlas, with ichor trailing down his thigh, shot him a look of pure loathing.

"Go. To. Tartarus." Atlas forced between pained breaths.

"Can't. I need to be here for our talk next week."

"A little stab wound won't change anything. You'll never get anything from me."

"Oh, but I think I will."

Percy dropped to a knee in front of the Titan, bringing them eye to eye. With his off hand, he shoved a finger into the exit wound left by his blade. Again, Atlas screamed. Using his ichor-soaked fingers, Percy reached into the Titan's mouth and grabbed his tongue. He severed it with a flick of the blade, drawing more ichor and more screams from the Titan.

"That'll keep you from letting your friend know I'm coming for him. Now, why don't you spend the next few days thinking about what other body parts you'll have to regrow if you don't have some answers for me when I come back."

Kara

The team had promised her that lessons with Black Canary would be worthwhile. Halfway through her first session, Kara could see they'd been telling the truth. What Canary lacked in physical prowess, she more than made up for in mental acuity and technical proficiency. Kara once thought herself a martial artist rather than a brawled. Canary had crushed that notion in minutes.

While defeating Kara in the commonly understood meaning of the term would never be possible for Canary, she'd been more than capable of scoring a few moral victories. Several times she had landed blows and throws that would've incapacitated any human. They didn't hurt Kara, but they did send a message. Should she ever face someone with her strength and Canary's skill, she would not be the victor.

The good news was that there were few individuals in the known universe that met those steep qualifications. The bad news was that her newfound line of work vastly increased her chances of bumping into those select few. Luckily, there was plenty of opportunity to remedy her failings. Canary assured her that she would visit often, and the team itself was not lacking in skilled combatants who could tutor her in the interim.

Not all members of the team shared Kara's enthusiasm. Connor in particular still struggled to see the purpose in learning the finer techniques. Kara might've shared his position once, but her time with the Amazons had provided her with some much needed perspective. While the average Amazons were no match for her, a skilled few had given her trouble on occasion. Diana in particular had been a vexing opponent. Thrice Kara had challenged her, and thrice she'd been beaten. Diana was as close to her equal as any save Kal-El, and her skill far outclassed Kara's own.

At the time, she had resented the thrashings. Defeat was, at its core, a frustrating thing. It was also humbling, and as she listened to Canary lecture Wally about the importance of forethought, she was glad to have been humbled. Were she still as proud as she had once been, she might've simply ignored Canary's lessons as Connor did. Perhaps she may have been too proud even to join a group of sidekicks. It was hard to say. Such questions were not easy to answer. And perhaps that was the end of it. Maybe all she could do was be grateful that random chance had played out as it had. Ironically, that sentiment was far from the tune Canary was singing.

"You can't leave things to chance, Wally," she was saying, "You're too fast to be running into things blind. Reconnaissance that would take the rest of your team days would only take you a minute or two. There shouldn't be anything unexpected when you're around."

As if on cue, the Zeta Tube at the edge of the room whirred to life.

Recognized: Perseus Jackson, Ω-01

"Still can't believe he gets his own designation," Robin grumbled.

"And a cool one too. How is that fair?" Wally added.

"It comes with a built-in leash," Percy said as he joined the group, "I'd gladly trade the Omega tag in for a B if it meant I could get some Chinese."

"Speaking of your leash," Canary replied, "Diana wanted me to tell you that your special request has been granted."

"Really? That was fast."

"I expedited the vote when I found out what it was for. Some things are more important than you, me, or the League."

"Thank you. I won't forget it."

"Nor would I expect you to. Now, would you care to join the Team for some sparring? I know you're not a member, but everyone needs practice."

Kara would deny it if anyone asked, but the thought of sparring with Percy excited her. Already Percy had bested Connor, and though she had beaten him, he had been far from one hundred percent. She was eager to see what he was capable of when he actually had the chance to prepare for her. He was the Amazons' defending combat champion after all.

Around the room, she could see her curiosity was shared by her team. Though many of them were less trusting of Percy, all of them were eager to see what he could do. If not to sate their interest, than to gauge just how worried they should be of him going ballistic.

"Alright, I'll play," Percy said, "On the condition that you don't."

"Why? Don't tell me you're afraid that you'll lose."

Percy shook his head.

"I'm not. But eight on one would hardly be fair."

"All of us?" Robin asked with a laugh. "You can't be serious."

"Percy, are you sure this is wise?"

Percy didn't waver.

"I am. Your League wants to treat me like a loose cannon. It's time they realize I'm a nuclear fucking warhead."

"But–"

"They're not sure they can trust me, right? What better way to show them they can than by being honest about what I can do? They know my past. It's time they know me."

Canary clearly didn't like it. In fact, she looked ready to shut the idea down entirely. Before she could, Wally chose to chime in.

"C'mon, Canary, please. What's the point of training if we can't use it to shut guys like him up?"

"Fine," Canary said, "but I'm calling it if things get too rough."

The Team nodded, but it was clear none were really listening. Their pride had been challenged, and because of that they were blinded. Kara, on the other hand, had been paying attention to Percy's heartbeat, not his words. He was feeling no stress. He had no worry. He was deadly serious about taking them all on. That type of confidence only came with deadly competence. Looking around at her Team, it was evident that Kaldur was the only one who shared in her trepidation.

As Canary reluctantly backed away from the combat stage, Percy took up her former position in the center. Meanwhile, each member of the Team placed themselves at a different point along the edge of the circular platform. Kara was closest to Kaldur, who was looking at her with something between worry and fear.

"We must be careful," he whispered, knowing only she would hear it, "Jackson is more dangerous than we know."

Kara nodded, if only to let him know he was not alone in his concern.

"Alright," Canary shouted from her distant perch, "The spar begins on my count."

The team chorused their agreement, as did Percy.

"Ten," Canary said.

At the center of the circle, Percy's left hand became submerged in a swirling ball of water.

"Nine."

Percy began to mutter some strange chant under his breath. Kara could hear the way Kaldur's heartbeat quickened in his chest. Whatever it was Percy had in store, it certainly wasn't good.

"Eight."

In Percy's right hand, the same vicious looking sword Kara had seen once before materialized from nothing.

"Seven."

Percy finished his chant. The water surrounding his left hand began to darken. The churning ball of crystal-clear water grew murky and then dark. Where once water had been, only a turbulent storm of ominous black remained.

"Six."

Percy let the water drop to the ground. The inky ball began to writhe and squirm. It was as if a human soul had been trapped inside and was trying desperately to escape.

"Five."

The ball of water was no longer a ball. It rose, slowly taking shape. Kara's heart sank.

"Four."

The shape became several, and then one again. A clone of Percy constructed of pure black stood by his side. Its eyes were dead, but the edge to its sword and its stance were as sharp as Percy's own.

"Three."

The air in the room condensed, and suddenly everything was obscured by an impossibly thick fog. It was only because of her alternative types of vision that she could see anyone at all.

"Two."

Kara could hear the rising heartrates in every chest in the room. This wasn't a spar. It was a god damn horror movie.

"One."

The count finished, and all hell broke loose.

Percy

Percy knew he had to act fast. With seven enemies bearing down on him, and at least two of them capable of supersonic speeds, there was no time to waste. He knew his aquatic clone would handle the normal mortals, which left the superpowered foes to him. He would have to be fast, efficient, and above all else, brutal.

Wally was his first target, and he was dealt with in dramatic fashion. Before the speedster could take even a single step, Percy forced the mist around his ankles to form into shackles of ice. At the same time, he summoned a fist of water to hit him while he was trapped in place. It struck with such force that it nearly deboned the kid. He would recover, but not until the fight was through. One second down, and six foes to go. Percy liked those numbers.

He couldn't celebrate for long though, as Kara was coming in for a cheapshot just as she had in Themyscira. This time around, Percy was able to use the thick mist as a sensor. He wasn't able to avoid her entirely, but he did manage to turn what would've been a finishing blow into a glancing one. Her outstretched fist splintered one of his ribs as she went flying by, but the pain was worth it for the time it bought him.

While Kara turned, Percy's focus swiveled to M'gann. His clone had already dispatched Robin, and Artemis was next on its agenda. Kaldur was still trying to find his way through the mist, and Connor was less of a threat than a Martian capable of mind blasting him. Because of that, he dealt with her as quickly as he had Wally. Using the mist around her as a hydraulic press, he literally squeezed the air out of her, deoxygenating her brain just enough to force her into a temporary slumber. She, like Robin, joined Wally in unconsciousness. Five seconds, three down.

Connor was next, and Percy knew it. The Superman clone had found him using his superhearing, and though Percy sensed him coming, he still barely avoided the first punch. What Percy knew and Connor didn't though, was that Kara was coming back for round two. This time Percy dropped just beneath Kara's flying form, forcing her to instead deliver her crushing blow to Connor before she could slow down. It was a devastating attack, and likely the only one capable of incapacitating Superman's clone so easily. Just like that, Kara had done his job for him.

With Connor handled by his own teammate, and Artemis now joining the majority of her team in unconsciousness thanks to his clone, the bout had been reduced to Percy and his copy against Kara and Kaldur. He dissipated the mist, knowing that he had the advantage now. With five of the team done for, he wanted to ensure that Canary could see him finish the job.

When the mist cleared, Percy and his clone were standing side by side. Kara was opposite them, standing over Connor with a mixture of frustration and disbelief on her face. Kaldur, the poor guy, was on the far side of the platform, having been unable to find his way through the fog. With it clear, he summoned his courage and prepared to fight.

"Good luck," Percy told them, and then the battle was on again.

Percy's clone went to distract Kara while he targeted Kaldur. Though this particular matchup had already happened once before, Kaldur did not hesitate to go on the offensive. Wisely, he did not use his water bearers. Unfortunately, that made dispatching him a trivial thing. He was unarmed, and so had no chance of stopping Percy's blade. Once Percy's sword made contact, the Atlantean was down for the count. For a mortal such as he, a single cut was enough to put him out of commission for a while.

As Percy finished with Kaldur, he turned to Kara. She, like him, had already handled her opponent. Unfortunately, the spell that had summoned the clone was quite taxing, as were the more generic manipulations Percy had used to take out her team. He was still standing, but his body was beginning to grow weary despite barely having moved. Kara on the other hand was fully functional, and Percy was fresh out of Kryptonians he could trick into beating her up. She, as he expected from the start, would be his greatest challenge.

When Kara came for him, it was at a blistering pace that his half-god eyes could scarcely track. Relying on instinct alone, he pirouetted in place and delivered a sweeping slash right at the place he'd been standing. His sword merely clipped her calf as she flew through the empty space, but its special nature was enough to elicit a pained scream from the Girl of Steel. She crash-landed on the opposite side of the platform. She was in pain, though only a fool would think her finished.t

She rose, using her flight to hold her injured leg just centimeters above the ground. Blood dripped from the wound, and Percy could see the rage building in her eyes. That rage culminated in two beams of crimson heat that nearly took his head off. Thankfully, his demigod instincts came to the rescue once again. His body reacted of its own volition, using his sword to intercept the attack. Kara's vision was unrelenting, and the heat that spread throughout his weapon was so great that it began to sear even his heat-resistant skin. When it clattered to the ground, Kara made her move.

This time, her flight was much more controlled. In truth, it was more of a fast-paced float than a true airborne attack. When she reached him, she brought with her a flurry of blows that nearly crushed him three times over. He avoided most of them, but eventually one caught him across the chin. It sent him flying, but he was able to land on his feet just in time to roll away from her follow up attack.

As Kara circled back, Percy readied himself. This time, he would be on the offensive. She started to close in, and before she even got halfway, he raised his empty hands overhead and brought them down in a heavy downward swing. Confusion flashed on Kara's approaching face, and that was what he was counting on. As she continued to close in, Percy summoned a giant hammer of ice that covered the gap and slammed directly into the top of Kara's head.

The blow struck with such force it actually forced her through the platform. Though she remained conscious, her arms became pinned at her sides by forty feet of reinforced concrete on every side. He had no doubt that she'd be able to wriggle free given time, but she lacked the leverage needed to make a quick escape, and Percy wasn't waiting. He scooped up his cooled-off sword as fast as he could, and before she could move, he placed the tip at her throat.

"Yield," He told her.

Defiance flashed on her face. He pressed the tip into her throat, drawing a tiny droplet of blood. Her pained scream shook the room.

"Okay," she forced through gritted teeth, "I yield."

"Good," Percy said. He then turned to Canary, who was looking on in utter disbelief.

"How's that for a damn spar?"

AN:

And finished. I really enjoyed writing this chapter. For most of this story, Percy has been a reactionary/submissive actor. He's sort've gone with the flow so to speak. Now that he has a purpose though, he's about his business. That's why you got to see him wheeling and dealing with Reyna, Wolfe, and Atlas, and finally demonstrating to the Team/League that while he may be helping them, he's nobody's puppet.

Morally, I know some of you might be confused. Percy has been remorseful in previous chapters, but in this one he was threating Wolfe and torturing Atlas. Here's the deal with that. Percy's remorse doesn't stem from what he's done, but who he did it too. His objection isn't to murder or torture or things of that nature, but to doing those things to good people and for bad reasons.

Now, likely the biggest question you have is about power scaling. Yes, Percy just shit on the entire team. Does that mean they're all pointless? No it does not. Does that mean he would always do so? No it does not. You've already seen before that circumstance matters. Percy lost a fight to Kara when he was half-asleep and unarmed. This chapter, he dumpstered the entire team including her because he had two tricks up his sleeve that they weren't prepared for. If they ran it back, there are plenty of things the team could've done to win handily. That's just the way shit goes. Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose. Don't expect Percy to always win, and don't expect him to always struggle. Circumstance matters.

The final thing of note is my take on Percy's water abilities. I'm really trying to stretch their limits, because it's rare that his abilities get explored beyond the typical interpretations (solid, liquid, gas forms of water, storms, and blood if you're feeling frisky). This time, I'm toning down his overall hydrokinesis in favor of the Ancient Atlantean spells you've been seeing him use. These spells are undoubtedly strong as shit, but as you can see require a cast time (that wouldn't be afforded to him in a real fight) and cost energy that he would desperately need if the fight didn't last only thirty seconds.

Anyways, I realize this was a lot both chapter and AN wise, so I'll finish up. I hope you enjoyed, I hope you liked the "hints" about his past, and I hope you're as excited to continue as I am. Also, if you're a fan of "Heroes Unwanted", it will be making a return, but I removed it for now so you wouldn't be let down seeing it unupdated while I work on this. PM me if you have any questions about that. Anyways, I love y'all, I wish y'all the best, and until next time,

Peace