Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction based on the Percy Jackson universe. All recognizable characters, plots and settings are the exclusive property of Rick Riordan

The First Demigod

Chapter: 2

Primordial Rage

A single person wandered through Tartarus for hours without a pause. The barren landscapes of hell stretched on the left and on the right of him, bathed in darkness which would briefly shine reddish again and again. The reason for this was the only source of light in Tartarus. The river Phlegethon. When and by whom the river was created is uncertain. But only a truly despicable being could have come on the idea that instead of water the river should lead flames. Thus, only the majority of inhabitants of this nice place came into question.

Again and again, the river of flames spewed a column of flame ablaze into the air. This cycle was never interrupted, because like everything else, it was predetermined for all eternity.

Besides the air, which caused blisters by breathing, the glass shards, which stung one' s feet with every step, the mental torture was the worst of all. For far and wide stretched only the same wasteland. Not a single living being was to be recognized, no monster, no Titans, nothing. Only the same dark landscape, which was constantly immersed in red flames.

And so the lonely figure continued its march.

The first change Perseus noticed was the air. It usually smelled like acid in this hellhole, making every breath agonizing. Here, however, it merely reeked of stagnant water. Then Perseus noticed how the ground changed. The broken glass became less and less and was replaced by a mud. Since when was a swamp in the land of torment?

Perseus merely stomped on unperturbed. He marched straight on through the middle of the swamp.

The smell became more intense and the mud crawled up his feet. It happened more and more often that Perseus discovered small accumulations of bones. To the left and right, they were piled high, as if the swamp was constantly haunted by large monsters.

With his scarred right hand, he reached for his chain, which he had slung loosely around his left shoulder. It was not the most effective weapon, but at times one had to manage with what was at one's disposal. With his right hand, Perseus held one end of the chain and let the other end fall to the ground with a clang.

Perseus could now slowly make out the silhouette of a small house on the horizon. And in front of the house something seemed to move. He could not make out anything yet, but the Half-Blood was sure that it could not be anything good. He was still in the pit, after all.

"Who are you stranger," a rough voice suddenly sounded. "What are you doing near my hut?" the voice continued. However, it did not seem aggressive, but rather neutral. As if for the owner of the voice he was just an annoying nuisance to be shooed away.

"My name is of no concern to you," Perseus also replied indifferently. "And what I want near your... hut? Nothing apart from an undisturbed passage. For I seek that which all here in the pit strive for."

"You truly do," replied the figure in the distance, almost amused. "And would you be so kind as to enlighten me about everyone's quest?".

"Are you not trying to find a way out of this hellhole yourself, are you not devoured by the daily desire for freedom, for the upper world. Doesn't your heart fill with the longing to feel the sun on your skin, to hear the roar of the waves or to enjoy the sight of the stars?

"I gave up that hope long ago, stranger. But I see that your heart still beats with this illusion of hope."

"Do we truly speak of wishful thinking these days when we do not wish to resign ourselves to our fate? Is the feeling of hope, not rather a proof of will and steadfastness, than an illusion. What would happen to us if we always gave up at the slightest difficulty?" Perseus confronted the figure discussing with him. He was getting tired of the conversation.

" A difficulty?", the presumable owner of the hut started laughing. "All this, Tartarus, the lords, they are all just difficulties for you? Sure they are, I wish you good luck with that, my friend".

Perseus raised an eyebrow. He didn't know what the stranger meant by "The Lords." "Tell me, when was the last time you lived properly? You rot in this swamp, separated from the outside world. Have you never tried to take your destiny into your own hands, have you never tried to change your life? Or are you just content to brood in this hole, day in and day out? Because if so, what you call living is of no worth." He wrinkled his nose in disgust and began to march on through the swamp.

He approached the figure, whose shape he could now identify more clearly. The first thing he noticed was its size. The person was over six meters tall. But here the ordinary also stopped. Never before had he seen a comparable cherry-red skin. In addition, there was matching hair the color of rusted iron.

An appearance worthy of remembrance.

Perseus trudged past him. No danger seemed to emanate from him. So, it was all the more surprising when a large hand suddenly grabbed him by the shoulder from behind.

Perseus had already turned around and lashed out with the chain when the six-meter-man backed away.

He raised both his hands in the air, signaling that he did not possess any weapons and did not wish to fight.

Instead, he stared Perseus in the face for a long time and only after half an eternity asked, "Tell me, where do you get the strength to go on in this hell? What drives you to look forward in this hopeless situation?".

Perseus raised his head and looked back into the stranger's eyes. Poison green eyes, drenched in blood and with a small white gleam looked impassively at the stranger.

"Vengeance."

Perseus stood in an arena. He could sense the sand under his feet. It felt so unfamiliar. An endless time had passed since he had last felt anything other than shards of glass cutting his feet or the void consuming everything due to its hunger. It reminded him vaguely of better times, of the upper world, of the beach and the sea. Of the raging of the waves, the rays of the sun and the sea air.

Perseus shook his head. These were all just blurred images and feelings now. They would not help him his present situation.

He had followed the giant's advice. Damasen was his name. He had proved to be useful in the end. He had given him the hint to seek out the arena of Crius. Although he was neither a lord nor of any other importance, he guarded one of the many secret exits of Tartarus.

The Titan of the South stared at him hatefully from the box. Monster roars flooded the arena, drowning out every other sound. They all wanted to see blood, his blood. But they were held back by the order of the Titan, the same one who had already spotted him from afar and had him brought into the arena.

He rose from his golden throne. He slowly stretched and reached his full height of over three meters. He wore black armor, marked from previous battles. Quirks and stains littered the armor. Perseus would guess Stygian Iron. A metal of the underworld. Merciless, unyielding and deadly, a fitting reflection.

But the most striking thing was his helmet. Pointed horns protruded from it, which was shaped like that of a ram. An animal that was often associated with him.

The Titan of the South raised a single muscular hand. The roar died on the spot.

"Long time, isn't it, bastard?". There was silence in the arena. The only thing that could be heard was the Titan's deep muffled voice echoing from under his helmet. Crius stretched and leaned forward. Perseus could swear that the Titan was smiling under the helmet.

"May you perhaps tell us what such a noble hero as you, so pure, so brave, seeks among us dark figures".

Perseus hands began to clench into fists. They slightly began to tremble, but his face continued to remain neutral.

"I beg your pardon, I can't understand you. Please, just look around, you are among friends, you will be able to admit something so insignificant, won't you?."

Perseus looked around. He was standing on the sandy floor in the middle of the arena. The only thing that could be considered a weapon was his chain. On either side of him were two iron gates. One entrance through which he had entered the arena and one exit which could possibly lead him out of Tartarus. Consequently, the arena served as a sluice.

Perseus looked up again. Past the hungry monsters staring down at him, to the talking Titan.

He eyed Perseus like a cockroach with red eyes that just shone with malicious amusement.

"Has the half-breed lost the function to speak because of his grief? Don't be ashamed, happens to the best of us. I will be happy to introduce you to our friends."

Crius spread his arms as if he wanted to embrace the whole arena. In an unmistakably malicious voice, he roared into the arena, "My servants, before you stands a legend long thought dead. Erased from their history books so that no one would ever learn about him. Before you stands the Warlord of Olympus, the one who allied himself with the gods, only to be betrayed by the very same ones. Fate is truly ironic at times, don't you think?".

Perseus' eyes narrowed. The Titan's monologues had already taken up enough of his time.

He took a step forward. "Your words bore me, Titan. I have more important matters to attend to than listening to your pointless stories. As far as I know, I have felt no longing for your voice, and if I had, I would rather have thrown myself into the void. Therefore I give you a chance. Open the gate or perish".

The roar of the monsters grew louder again. They jumped angrily through the ranks. Only the presence of their master prevented them from jumping on the Half-Blood below them.

At first glance, it was obvious that the Titan was displeased. His breaths were getting louder and louder. It seemed as if his attempts to keep his anger under control were in vain. Strained, he gritted his teeth.

"You are weak, you have no weapon, and you have no practice. You don't want this fight."

In response, Perseus merely raised his chain.

The monsters smelled the fight ahead. Roaring, they ran around upset, growling at the Half-Blood and preparing to pounce on him.

Perseus, in turn, slowly slid the chain through his fingers until he held one end in his right hand and the other clanked to the ground. He took another step forward and bent his knees slightly to reduce his body's surface. His eyes calmly surveyed his opponents one by one. His old instincts came up in him again after millennia of disuse.

However, a bellowing voice drowned out the monsters. "Stand down, this one is mine".

With that, the Titan of the South drew a black sword in a single motion. Even bloodied, the outlines of quite a few constellations could be made out. The most prominent was that of the Ram. He raised it high and pointed it at the Half-Blood standing below. "Your existence will no longer disgrace the Titans. Letting you live was our biggest mistake. A mistake I do not intend to repeat."

With that, his legs tensed, he crouched slightly and leapt into the air with a deafening roar.

Perseus looked up from the ground and watched as the Titan effortlessly jumped a few meters into the air. Only to approach the ground faster and faster in the next moment. His eyes were fixed on Perseus and for the first time Perseus could feel the man's aura. It was bloodthirsty, as if Crius longed for this fight.

At the last moment, he realized that Crius was headed right for him and rolled away moments before the Titan landed on the ground in front of him with a crash. The resulting shockwave briefly knocked Perseus off balance. His weight shifted unintentionally and the Titan that stepped out of the dust cloud immediately seized this opportunity.

He raised his leg with a loud roar and thrust it into Perseus' chest with all his might.

All air left his lungs as he was thrown backwards a few meters by the force of the kick and rolled over on the ground with a crash. Groaning, he rolled onto his stomach and pressed his free hand against the ground to get up.

Only now did he realize how weak he had become during his imprisonment. Was it a mistake to challenge a titan immediately after his escape?

"Out of shape what?" the Titan asked mockingly. "Do you now realize the gravity of your mistake in coming here. Just look at you, something like you is supposed to have once been the Warlord of Olympus? You are nothing, a nobody. Maybe that's what the gods thought and that's why the Gods banished you.

Gasping, Perseus rose from the ground and stared hatefully at the Titan of the South. His eyes narrowed to slits. "Your pride will be your downfall," Perseus spoke. At the same time, he slowly began to wrap his chain around his right wrist. His eyes did not leave the Titan's face for a single second.

"You call me prideful?" laughed Crius in his black armor. "Your definition of arrogance is truly very distorted, that you of all people make use of it is ironic enough in itself."

In response, however, Perseus merely began to twist his wrist, whereupon the chain began to hit the sandy ground with increasing pace. His spins became faster and faster and with each spin he began to kick up more sand from the ground.

Crius instinctively closed his eyes as the sand flew in the direction of his sight. Perseus took the opportunity to quickly close the distance between the two opponents and leapt upward with all his might, only to have the chain strike the Titan standing below him. The latter, however, had seen through the Half-Blood's tactics at the last moment and opened his eyes in panic. He saw the approaching chain and turned his body in the last possible instant, causing the chain to miss him by millimeters. He struck back, pressing hard with his shoulder against the defenseless Perseus. The Half-Blood, who still didn't have a firm footing, stumbled backwards. Crius took the chance and swung his sword upwards, but Perseus was able to turn his head to the left at the last moment, and thus escaped the sharp blade. But he could not avoid the fierce left fist of the Titan, which hit him brutally on the chin.

As he fell to the ground, he spat out blood. Red blood. The first blood was spilled.

He heeded his instincts and rolled directly to his right. Not a second too late, as a black sword bore down on the spot he had previously occupied. It took Crius a few seconds to pull his sword back out of the ground. He had used too much strength. Time that was now to cost him. Perseus kicked him hard in the shin from the ground, causing Crius to stumble backwards with his sword pulled out of the ground.

In one leap, Perseus was back on his feet, swinging his chain close to the ground. To avoid having his legs ripped off the ground, the Titan was forced to jump over the chain. Perseus used this time to hit the Titan's free wrist with his next strike. The chain wrapped effortlessly around his wrist. But the Titan of the South no longer noticed this, as he was blinded by the pain that overcame him. His power was snatched away from him. At the same time, Perseus could feel his wounds closing and his breathing calming. New strength seemed to flow to him.

With a loud roar, the Titan yanked on the chain. Perseus still distracted by the unexpected feeling of new power, was not focused at that second. He was mercilessly torn from his legs and hurled toward Crius, who hit him hard in the stomach with his knee.

Growling, Perseus straightened up again and ducked under a deadly blow from the Titan. The Titan began to strike wildly at Perseus, but he was able to avoid the blows each and every time.

However, with each blow he was pushed one step backwards. Step by step, Perseus realized that his back would soon be against the wall. A more than bad position. He would have to get out of the defensive soon, otherwise the fight would be lost in the foreseeable future. Concentrating, he searched for a flaw in the Titan's strikes.

And then he recognized one. His opponent had used a little too much power and had overdone his sword stroke because of it. The entire right side of the Titan was unprotected by the sword.

His instincts, trained from previous fights, became active again and he overcame the distance between the two opponents with a single step. A swordsman needs a certain range to be able to swing his sword. If the opponent is standing directly in front of you, the sword is useless.

Within a moment, Perseus had slammed his elbow into the Titan's stomach as hard as he could. Diverted by the oncoming pain, the latter stumbled back a step. He immediately took the opportunity to wrap the black chain around the Titan's unarmed left arm. He quickly pressed himself against the titan, stretched out his left leg and, using all his strength, flung the Titan over his shoulder.

A loud crack was heard throughout the arena as the left arm broke, accompanied by a crash as if a truck had fallen from the sky to the ground.

Silence reigned in the arena as all the monsters looked in shock at the fallen form of the Titan of the South. This was only broken by the rage-filled scream of Crius, who rose from the ground seemingly undisturbed by the loss of his left arm.

"Ahhhhhhhhhh"

Full of rage, the Titan stood up. Red eyes stared down hatefully at the Half-Blood's small form.

"I will cleanse us Titans of the old sins," Crius spat out. Full of rage, his muscles tensed, ready to charge at the demigod, but a liquid fell evenly on the ground in front of him.

The titan paused in his steps. He slowly raised his hand to his mouth. Blood oozed from it and wetted the sand at his feet. Thick, golden blood. In disbelief, the Titan of the South looked at his hand, which was discolored by the Ichor.

"Is this the blood? The blood of an Immortal?".

Slowly, his gaze turned back to Perseus. The Titan's red eyes flickered. A golden sparkle crept into them. Stronger and stronger pulsed this sparkle.

The black sword of Stygian Iron slipped from his hand and fell silently onto the sandy ground.

The body of the Crius began to tremble. Every muscle was tense. The golden flickering of his eyes under his helmet became more and more intense. His breathing accelerated. The immortal's heart began to pump ichor faster and faster through his veins. His power, long gone from him, was returning. He could feel it only faintly, but it was still there. His body prickled with such strength.

"Ahhhhhhhh"

With a final cry, the Titan's body shone with eternal golden light. The power of the immortals, a power that was actually taken from the Titans after their defeat.

The golden light flooded the arena. It spread like an explosion. The ground trembled, the air crackled and the monsters in the ranks disintegrated at the mere sight of it.

And Perseus was not spared either. He was tossed through the air like a rag doll and came crashing down on the other side of the arena. Groaning, he remained lying there. He could feel the power tugging at his being, whose mere presence was enough to disintegrate him. Crius had managed to regain his power.

But just as quickly as the golden light appeared, it ebbed away. Only a hint of a golden flicker remained. The Titan briefly glanced at his recently golden hands in confusion, until a malicious smile came over his face. With slow steps, he approached Perseus lying on the ground.

"You know," the Titan began as he walked. "We had briefly considered using your services in the upcoming war," Crius spat out, meanwhile starting to speed up more and more. "But you do NOT DESERVE TO FIGHT ON OUR SIDE" after he yelled out the last words, the Titan closed the distance with a massive leap and stood directly in front of Perseus, who was still dizzy from the impact.

He struck out with his muscular hand and slammed it into Perseus' face with inhuman force. The blow was so violent that it alone created a small sound wave. Perseus fell crashing to the ground again, defenselessly at the Titan's mercy. The latter grabbed the Half-Blood by the back of his neck, tensed his legs and leapt into the air with enormous force. Ten, twenty meters, thirty meters they rose, until Crius threw Perseus back to the ground.

His crash caused a small crater. Sand was whirled up in all directions. But this was nothing compared to the impact of the Titan. The latter had turned in the fall back to the ground and crashed onto Perseus lying in the sand.

A single loud scream echoed across the landscapes of Tartarus.

He lay in the arena, stained with spots, covered with blood and fractured bones, moaning and unmoving. Above him towered the face of Crius. The titan laughed viciously. The last remnants of the golden glow had passed.

He bent down. His hand formed a fist.

"After all this time, after all these years since your imprisonment. Did you truly believe you could defeat ME. The immortal, invincible Titan Lord of the South?".

In reply, only red blood oozed from Perseus' mouth.

Crius began to laugh vilely. "Red blood, a symbol of your status, of your birth. YOU WILL NEVER BE DIVINE!" the Titan roared out and punched Perseus, who was lying on the ground, in the face with enormous force.

BAM

"YOU ARE NOTHING." Another punch.

BAM

Perseus' hands began to tremble.

"A MISTAKE OF FATE". Another blow.

BAM

Perseus breathing quickened.

"SO ALONE. WITHOUT FAMILY, WITHOUT FRIENDS. BETRAYED BY EVERYONE!". Another strike.

BAM

The atmosphere changed. A primordial bloodthirst overcame the whole arena.

"THERE IS NO REASON FOR YOU TO EXIST ANY LONGER".

The Titan lashed out and struck.

A steel-hard hand stopped the Titan's fist. Closed eyes suddenly snapped open. Eyes, blood red with spreading tiny white lines, stared at the Titan with an all-consuming hatred.

Barely audible, the Half-Blood whispered, "Revenge!" and struck the Titan in the face with his clenched left fist.

The Titan of the South flew backwards almost as if in slow motion. Like he was pulled by invisible strings. He landed on the ground with a crash and rolled over two times, three times, four times.

The whole world was blurred, but he had no time to straighten up, because somehow Perseus was back by his side. Without even the chance to react, Crius flew through the air again and slammed into the gate that had blocked the exit. It fell deafeningly out of its joints upon impact with the Titan. They both crashed clatteringly to the ground.

The Titan groaned. For a long time, he had not felt pain comparable to this. Gasping, he turned on his stomach to stand up again, only to pause and stare into the blood-red eyes of Perseus. There was nothing human he could discern in these.

Only a primal, animalistic rage, a desire to kill everything. He spotted the glint of madness.

Too late he realized that the Perseus he knew had died long ago. But from the ashes of the past, something new had risen. Incomparable to the old, born of betrayal, pain and hatred. A new being, a new personality.

Blows hit him. So fast and hard that he had nothing left but to curl up on the ground, hoping to protect himself from the fists.

It all should be in vain.

Each blow was comparable to the impact of a boulder. The Titan's black armor groaned under the force. Dents and cracks formed everywhere.

A pain beyond comparison to anything else overwhelmed him. His whole world seemed to be dipped in gold. And that's when he realized. His opponent had as little control over the situation as he did. So while he had been freed from his jail, he was still only a prisoner inside his own body, a slave to his emotions. His torture had branded him not only physically, but also mentally. It had irreversibly changed him.

He felt himself slipping away. From all the pain. From all the torments. From all the sufferings of the earthly world. But the last thing he should ever see were the blood-red insane eyes, marked by small white cracks.

Was there still hope for this creature?

Author Notes:

The next chapter is out. Be prepared for weekly updates.

Thanks so much for all the feedback, you guys gave me the motivation I needed. Don't stop!

I have several questions for you guys that I hope you can answer.

How did you like the fight scene? This was my first time writing something like this and I am still very inexperienced. Was the fight too long or too short, it was surprisingly fun to write this. Was I able to get the tension across well or did something bother you. Let me know so I can change it.

I hope you saw that Perseus was not overpowered. As you could see, he was beaten up pretty hard by the divine energy also known as the true form of a god. I will get back to that in the future. Because of that, I also have to warn you. This will not be the next Perseus was imprisoned and tortured for two thousand years, but he forgives everyone and is an overpowered guy liked by everyone story. My Perseus suffers the consequences and will not help Olympus.

As a result, my plot is divided into two to three acts right now.

The first is oriented around the normal book. Here, foundations are set and characters are characterized. Then comes a rather badass finale, which initiates the second act. Damn am I looking forward to this one.

So I'm trying to keep this story a little more realistic than usual. But whether that works out for me is for you guys to decide.

Until next time

Rezurex