Chapter 1
'Twinkle, twinkle, little star, how I wonder what you are…'
The building had an immensely dark feel to it, an oppressive, repulsive aura that was only emphasized by its obsidian stone walls. Six stories high, the generously sized windows were actually walls spelled transparent in square patches, and anyone wanting to get in or out of the place through them found their heads bashing against stone that they could not see. Multiple winding staircases ran through its entirety, dark halls and corridors, doors as black as whatever obsidian foulness was utilized in its architecture. It reeked of vile and potent magic, the kind of insidious power that automatically whispered into the minds of those about to stumble onto its location, subtly, unnoticeably directing their path away from it, and that was only in addition to the cloaking spell that blocked it from any unwanted immortal or magical gazes.
Of course, time had made the singer realize that such an insidious, abhorrent and, frankly, impressive manipulation of the minds of beings on both the lower and higher spectrum of the world was one of the primary reasons for its dark and dreary make up.
'Up above the world so high, like a diamond in the sky…'
Powerful magic kept displacing the staircases and corridors at seemingly random intervals, a twisted security measure, for some of the corridors led to misfortune rigged doors, and the doors to certain excruciating death in the embrace of one catastrophe or another. Of course, not even the beings who ran such an insanely fortified place were totally immune to its woes, for every once in a while an idiot guard made a mistake in following the pattern that would safely carry him through the corridors and meet his end in a fate meant for potential invaders.
'Twinkle, twinkle, little star…'
The last line of defence were the people who ran the place, humans, warriors really, always decked head to toe in black themed combat gear so that they blended in with the building like chameleons, and armed with batons with electric charges that felt like a taste from Zeus' master bolt itself. Okay, that was quite an exaggeration, but the things hurt really bad.
However, the most unique, impressive, and quite irritating attribute that they all shared was the freaky force field that they generated around their bodies, some sort of weird energy of varying colours that protected them from external harm and empowered them to do things that were far above the norm, almost like their own Achilles curse. What actually caused this phenomenon was something yet to be discovered but the good news was that unlike the curse of Achilles, this power could be broken through with enough effort and as such, did not make them completely invincible.
Required to know the pattern that would see them safely through the ever shifting corridors by heart, they took regular patrols around the building for additional security as whatever paranoid entity that commanded them obviously did not fully trust in the magical security measures that fortified the place. Of course, their paranoia was to be expected and was quite a wise mind-set to have, given that the people they hid from were beings so much more powerful than them, beings whose existence embodied the very figments of reality—the gods.
'How I wonder what you are.'
The person singing was located in the basement of the building together with others of his kind, in a dungeon that spanned a series of cells too numerous to discern from the confines of the magically enhanced iron bars that guarded each. Known to his cellmates—and the unfortunate members of the guard who had been subjected to his infernal singing habits since his capture— as one Jake Chambers, he was of the appearance of a teenager barely fifteen years of age, garbed in a once-white-now-brown shirt and torn blue denim shorts. Like the other five children in his cell, he was filthy, his face worn and aged from captivity and less than stellar hygiene, his hands and knees scraped and littered with cuts and bruises from the jagged edges of the obsidian cell walls, his butt and back aching and stiff from sleeping on the cold, dark dungeon floor for over three months now.
He had not put up much of a struggle at the time of his capture, and even his time in captivity had not been utilized in struggling or screaming, hurling curses or throwing power tantrums ill advised like some of the demigods that had been captured like he was. Not like a particular insanely tempered son of Mars who had been captured a month earlier than him and even at this moment, was busy screaming bloody murder at his captors in a cell far to the right, punching the walls and cell bars with enough fury and power in one strike that could have caved in the skull of a bull but did nothing other than provide him with split and bloody knuckles. It did not mean that said son of mars relented though, a real nutcase, that one was.
Jake Chambers was a very odd one, displaying a weak physical constitution and no will to even fight his way out of his captivity, but had the largest reserve of raw power amongst the captured demigods, a huge well of godly juice that took over three times the normal rate to drain. Yet, the only thing the boy had done since his capture was to bear the aura of a particularly broken soul and sing these nursery rhymes with a continuous intensity that rendered the rhymes horrible and grating to the ears. No amount of threats or glares could shut him up and after numerous fruitless efforts, guards and fellow prisoners alike had come to accept it as a quirk of his personality and had learned to cope with it. His cellmates opted to stay as far away as possible so as to reduce the volume in their ears and to avoid any form of contact with one they saw as knocked in the head while the guards prayed in their hearts to be assigned to other duties with less troublesome requirements.
With the end to his tune, Jake Chambers lifted his head from between his arms and gazed around the cell with weary brown eyes that sparked with a hint of something indiscernible, something not quite nameable, but something that existed all the same, deep behind the brown coloured curtains that were his eyes. Most saw this spark as the evidence of the insanity that had gripped and festered his mind like a rotting corpse, a reasoning that his singing habits only added more credence to, and who could blame them? Jake Chambers had been held captive for three months and in that time the only thing that had come out of his mouth was the tune of a nursery rhyme. Now add that to that to the perpetual lost and unsettling look in his eyes, together with the fact that at the time of his capture, and the duration of his captivity, not once had he fought back or displayed any signs of rebellion. Most figured, Jake Chambers was a demigod that had been broken long before the cell, probably due to the harsh life a demigod led.
Ten seconds later, the stampeding rhythm of booted feet pounding against cold hard stone alerted all to the incoming patrol of guards arriving at the dungeons, breaking into groups of three each to a cell. Containing of five demigods each, the cells were unlocked and two of the three guards entered, and commanded the prisoners to rise.
'Get up, the lot of you.' Commanded one of the guards that had ventured into the cell of one Jake Chambers, the person's voice coming out as a synthesized drone due to the expressionless, black, electronic masks they all wore. Though his blonde hair compared to his partners black, and the more obvious differences in their anatomy that could not be hidden by their black leather gave them some form of identities as the blond male and busty female guards. 'It's time. Your captivity here comes to an end today.'
Similar calls rang out from other cells even as one of Jake's comrades in captivity, a particularly headstrong fellow going by the name Fiona no-last-name, roared in rebellious, righteous rage and threw herself at the guards, fists sputtering weakly with green light. Blond male sidestepped the lunge and pressed forward to deal with another rebellious demigoddess with a chop to the throat and half a dozen blows at blinding speed, delivered to specific pressure points that saw the teen paralyzed within the time it took one to take a breath. The girl dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes to join Fiona no-last-name who had been taken out with a simple, yet powerful one-two combo from the female guard.
The remaining occupants of the cell barring Jake Chambers, just sighed, shaking their heads in a mixture of exasperation that the demigods would even try, and faint disappointment that the attempt had not borne fruit.
'Anyone else?' asked the blond male, expressionless faceplate swerving to take scope of the whole cell for any other spark of rebellion before, with a slight grunt of what was definitely disappointment, he pulled a baton from his belt, shocked the unconscious Fiona awake, hit a spot on the other demigoddess to release her from paralysis and then shocked her too for good measure.
'Out!' He barked, pushing the groaning demigoddesses towards the entrance of the cell, and motioning for the others to follow suit.
Jake Chambers lips twitched slightly as he meekly complied, and he continued his singing.
'Twinkle twinkle little star, how I wonder what you are…'
Enchanted dynamic pathways, designed to shift and twist and lead to no place twice in the span of as many minutes, a great method of security and it was as ingenious a design as it was cruel, for one could get lost in the labyrinth of corridors and staircases for months, years even, and if madness was not what ended them, then the numerous methods of death obscured by doors and staircases all identical to each other would make short work of the person. Indeed, for one who got lost in the dynamic pathways, meeting their end by opening a wrong door or by descending down a wrong staircase into depths unknown could be considered a mercy.
Twice every week, the captured demigods were escorted in batches of three to the room on the highest level of the building, a wide expanse of space more akin to a cavern because of its massive size, and the fact that the ceiling was about three stories away. Said stone ceiling was spelled transparent just like the windows so that the sky could be seen, and a demigod of the wind had been fooled to try to make his escape through. They were nursing his head for weeks due to almost lethal contact against stone, and his back for the landing when he dropped from the air like a sack of potatoes. In this massive room, there was a triad of chairs positioned at separate walls in such a manner that they formed an equilateral triangle that spanned the entirety of the room. And these so called chairs were inscribed all over with runes and came equipped with buckles and straps, nerve wires and horrid looking devices that were obviously meant to go on the heads of whoever sat in them. All these hinted that the chairs had a purpose far more sinister than any form of resting or relaxation.
In the centre of the room were seven obsidian pillars jutting out of the ground and baring their pointed tops to the ceiling like fingers of gods accusing and judging, inscribed thoroughly with runes that glowed golden from godly power stolen and stockpiled from a number of captured demigods over the course of three months, and for an unmeasurable amount of pain for every ounce a of god juice extracted. The pillars were arranged in a fairly wide circle with enough space between them for a half dozen men to walk through comfortably, and at the centre of this formation was where the majority of the power that these pillars held was congregated. An astute enough entity in the know of the wider magical side to the world and with experience under his belt could stand in any part of the room and tell that power saturated the place like the lingering stench of horse shit but a wide eyed mortal, even without the gift of clear sightedness, could edge at the centre of the circle of pillars and immediately drop unconscious for senses he never knew he had warning him of the otherworldly pressure in the air.
But the man in monk style red and purple robes that stood a few feet away from the circle of pillars did not feel bothered by the haze of power that clung to the air. Indeed, with his hands spread wide like a priest hailing his god, wide eyes that were staring like a man being offered salvation, and his mouth agape in what seemed to be ecstasy, he appeared to be savouring the sensation, deriving pleasure in the pressure and feeling that came from being in the face of enormous power, one that was derived from the suffering of others to boot.
A wall behind him shuddered with a sound like the rumbling of an avalanche, and a doorway dissolved into view in this room that previously had none, and out walked the first group of captives escorted by their guards. Five distraught and dishevelled demigods guarded by a warrior in front and two behind them, walked into the large room and all the demigods shuddered as phantom pains wracked their body due to their memories asserting to them where they were.
'Father Ryker.' The lead guard said in acknowledgement as the robed man slowly turned to face them, all trace of his earlier expression gone from his face bar a spark of fanatic fervour that lingered within his bright cerulean orbs. Ryker's bald visage assessed them, guards and prisoners alike, and tilted his head in a gesture of consideration, his eyes roving with that look of deranged intelligence with which he usually beheld most. The demigods shivered, despite their familiarity with the man, and the only thing keeping the warriors from reacting similarly was their discipline.
'Brother Lumen.' Ryker murmured, and his voice was a rich, deep bass. He shifted the weight of his five-feet-six leanly muscled frame from foot to foot before taking three steps forward and adopting a stance with his hands clasped behind him.
'We await your brothers and sisters and the rest of the offerings.' He continued, speaking to the guard, 'Soon we shall get off this godforsaken existential plane, and back to our god.'
The guard named Lumen was stone cold, saying nothing in return but the other two at the back turned their heads as if to lock gazes through their masks, and this belied their thoughts on Ryker's state of mind, before turning their heads back towards Ryker. Unknowingly, captors and captives alike shared the same thoughts as the demigods, who by this point had recognized themselves as the aforementioned offerings, gawked at the brazen statement. Of course, it was not the first time they had been referred to as such, haven been under Father Ryker's tender care for over three months now, but it was never easier to stomach as the point was drilled home on just what they were and what their purpose was to this monster that called himself a 'priest of the one true god!'
'You still do not believe.' Commented the unholy Father in that whispering, serene tone of his, like he was a reverend offering holy communion at church. Obviously, he had caught the moment, however brief it was, that was shared between the two furthest warriors. Said warriors re-enacted the moment again, turning their heads to lock gazes before remembering that the mask prevented such, and facing the Father again. A wall adjacent to them opened up a doorway, and another group of captors and captives emerged. Father Ryker grunted in a tone like that of a parent humouring a child who said the sky was obviously purple.
'I do not begrudge you your lack of true faith my disciples.' Remarked the self appointed priest. 'In time, the one true god shall appear to you and you shall know power, and then, faith shall suffuse every fibre of your being until there's nothing left but devotion to your god!' He spoke like it was paradise, like he could see it at that very moment, his words wrapped up in fanatic fervour.
'In the meantime, I shall pray for you, and plead forgiveness on your behalf from the lord. For you have not seen what I have seen, and therefore you do not know better.' The unholy Father finished his religious sprout with wide arms, gazing upon them like he was the salvation of mankind—which he probably thought he was—and the other group that had approached in the middle of his sprout finally spoke up, for they knew better than to interrupt him when he was on a religious tangent.
'Father Ryker.' Greeted the head of the squad, and received a nod in return. Two more groups appeared from opposite walls to join them, and after them another group, and more and more groups followed, appearing through dissolving walls on all sides of the room until at last there were fourteen different groups of captors and captives ordered before Father Ryker.
Ryker waited two more minutes, a light frown growing steadily on his face as time passed, before finally, with a full blown scowl set on his face that sent the array of captors and captives shivering, he asked
'Where is Cyan?' And you knew he was pissed when he dropped the brother. 'He was assigned to bring in the Jake Chambers cell yes?'
No one answered, no one dared to, and his face purpled. Jake Chambers was the only one of his offerings that he knew by name, always ranting on how the boy's well of godly power would be the perfect offering for his god.
'They had better not lose the best of the lord's offerings!' He roared, and his madness shone clear for all to see as rage blossomed within him. Then a powerful blow struck the building from a side no one could determine, shaking the building to its very core. Obsidian debris fell from the ceiling as the demigods were thrown screaming to the floor, and the warriors struggled to remain standing. Father Ryker hardly stumbled, choosing instead to roar with rage before hurriedly turning to the circle of pillars in the room, and slamming his palms on the closest one to him, chanting all the while.
A minute later, an bright orb of light bloomed from the centre of the pillars, Father Ryker laughing a crazed, triumphant laugh, before a wall to his east exploded violently.
'The fu-' Father Ryker got smacked into one of his pillars.
When demigods were escorted into Father Ryker's holy chamber for draining, they were always injected with something that kept them out of it for the duration of the journey from the cells through the ever shifting corridors and staircases. This was not because of a fear of the demigods breaking free and getting lost in the building as the guards were highly and specially trained to keep demigods in line and not much escaped them. In the innermost part of his mind, where Jake Chambers was free to express himself as he wished, he thought it was morbidly funny that for all the godly world looked down on mortals, even going as far as to create metals that outright ignored them, mortals were now the ones holding demigods captives and the demigods were highly confused as to how they managed it. Indeed, most of the captives refused to believe that it was mortals that manhandled them so, citing one sort of possible explanation or the other for what manner of beings they were, and how their abilities came to be. But Jake knew better, he knew what gods and their ilk felt like, and Father Ryker and his band of super humans were definitely no god spawns. He was still highly curious though, as he had no idea how the mortals managed such incredible feats every day, and no information about it had come up during his time in captivity.
However, that was something to ponder another time. What mattered at that moment, as he was marched through the twisting pathways and hurried down disappearing staircases, was that through applications of his godly inheritance and good acting skills, he had feigned unconsciousness enough times to memorize the pattern that the soldiers took to transverse from the cell to the holy chamber.
Step, step, step, hold on for three heartbeats, forward, stop, turn to the left, through the door, left, right, left, right, round the corner, and there, a wide corridor with no end in sight, stop! Jake Chambers stuttered in his steps, hacking out fake coughs with a mixture of real blood to provide authenticity to the act, and dropped to his knees. The company of captors and captives drew to a halt as intended, and as intended, once the cause for the halt was realized, Jake received no electric shocks or paralyzing blows for his trouble. There was no sign of panic or alarm from the guards—they held on to their composure very well, giving nothing away—but Jake knew without question that they were panicking inside. Father Ryker would have their heads if his prize offering was harmed in any way, Jake had seen it before, and it was a gruesome sight.
'What is going on with you? Get up!' Blond male ordered from behind as the guard in front came over to have a look.
Hunched over as he was, Jake ignored them, spitting out some more blood and adding a keening groan for good measure while he dug deep inside his left arm for something buried there months ago, concealed under a scar. Skin burst, and blood spilled out as something small and bronze popped out, falling into his hand, and he wasted no time in pressing the tiny button on it.
With that action came pain, horrible and endless as his back popped and bones shifted like something out of a horror movie, and his scream was as morbid to match without any form of acting on his part. The guards might have been trained specifically for the capture of demigods but they clearly had no idea what to do in the face of something like this and they were also hampered by fear of Father Ryker's retribution on their head. As Jake's hair grew longer and muscles bubbled up on his skin and the length of his legs and arms changed, they pulled back, dragging the rest of the captive demigods with them, taking up fighting stances, unsure and waiting. It would be their undoing as, focused as they were on the grotesque scene before them, they missed the shadows of their corridors darkening and coalescing before depositing something big with red eyes behind them, and it was only when the sound of its growl reached them that they turned with renewed awareness of their surroundings.
But by that time the massive hellhound was already lunging.
Credit to them, they did not freeze up and scattered, diving which way instinct took them as the hellhound crashed past where they once took positions before turning, baring teeth in a growl. In all honesty, the demigods that had fallen to the ground as the hellhound lunged should have been crushed underneath its weight but its target had never been the guards at all, it had been to reach its master who was now beginning to rise up, his gory transformation complete, and in all his naked glory.
'Ugh!' Groaned the new individual, for Jake was definitely not Jake anymore. 'Good girl Mrs. O' Leary.' And the hellhound began mewling and panting as her ears were scratched, thumping its tail hard on the floor before giving him a nice long lick.
'What the fuck?' This came simultaneously from Fiona no-last-name and the busty female guard, the other people in too much shock to speak but also sharing their sentiments as captors and captives became united in their confusion. Indeed the warriors were radiating their perplexed state even through their masks and the fighting stances they held as they stared at former Jake and his dog were more an unconscious, instinctive reaction than anything else.
Former Jake had shed off the mien of a skinny fifteen year old boy and was now a grown man standing at a little over six feet tall, heavily built with thick corded muscles everywhere the eye could see—and to growing blushes, those eyes could see everything—that bled into a powerful physique. He had raven coloured hair and powerful sea green eyes with nice a goatee on his square jaw. And he was currently stretching like a cat, cracking bones and working his jaw with a groan and a shake of the head.
He did not look like someone who had spent three months in captivity with his powers being sucked out of him twice a week, he did not look like someone who realized that there was a very big demigod eater right by him and panting like a Chihuahua, and he most definitely did not look like one mentally disturbed Jake Chambers. Eyes followed him as he pulled black pants from a small bag secured to the body of the hell hound and slipped in, breaking some trances.
'Who the fuck are you?!' Fiona no-last-name again.
The man eyed her with a sceptical gaze, brows scrunched up in exasperation at the little shit. One would think she was the one in charge, not the one being led to be offered up by a deranged man to his deranged god. Nevertheless, he obliged, answering her question.
'My name is Percy Jackson.' Cue gasps of shock from a couple of them for they recognised the name. 'And I'm h-' Any other thing he was going to say was cut off as the warriors that had previously been on standby attacked, forcing him to block a blow with his arm. They had also recognised the name and it had ripped them from shock land back into the here and now. He danced back, stepping barefooted on the ground as Mrs O' Leary lunged at a hulking black haired guy, leaving him with busty female and blond male as they came at him ferociously.
Percy leaned back from a roundhouse, kicking the leg as it missed him to help it on its path, and putting the owner off balance so that he could pluck her by her neck and hurl her at her comrade. But the blond bastard just slid under her body and, flipping up like the wind itself carried him, launched himself at the demigod to rain a parade of blows that Percy knew he could not afford to make contact.
These mortal warriors had devised a fighting style specifically designed to counter demigod abilities and their blows landed in spots that, with the aid of the force field they generated, messed up the flow of godly energy in a demigod's body and put their powers on the fritz. This included even things like the enhanced strength, speed and reflexes that all demigods took for granted and that was without mentioning what was done to the abilities that each demigod inherited specially from their parents. The son of Poseidon had seen a daughter of Demeter introduced to those blows try to bring her power to bear on her opponent right in front of her only for a patch of weed two meters to her right to explode in growth, turning into an apple bearing tree with roses blooming out the trunk.
At the time, the only words that had been on his mind were: the fuck?!
Hand to hand combat had never truly been where his skills shined but over the years, he had picked up enough to be decent at it, and his constitution as a demigod usually covered up for the holes left in his technique enough to deal with most of his enemies. These mortals however, were not most of his enemies and if anything, hand to hand was where they truly were in their element, and added to that, he was the one who had been drained of power for three fucking months.
Percy growled, hard pressed to defend himself as the two launched a well coordinated attack with their fists, kicks and wits. His arms flew in a flurry of otherworldly movement, blocking a series of rapid strikes to his essentials from blondie even as he got nailed in the stomach by a kick from busty. He slid back a few feet with a grunt, ploughing through the pain and not for the first time wondering how in the world mortals got so strong. He kicked blondie away squarely in the chest in a hit that should have caved his chest in, and with a burst of godly speed, took out the legs from under busty with a low sweeping kick, and while she was still suspended in the air from the fall that would have taken her to ground, he came back around and planted his right foot in her chest with great force. Two human shaped bullets were sent flying back like they were shot from a cannon.
They weren't anywhere near as dead as he would have liked, not even close, as two force fields of gold and pink had appeared to absorb the blow, but he was glad for the respite. He looked over to where O' Leary was going at it with the third one just in time to see her get punched in the snout with an arm that was at least ten times bigger than what a normal mortal's arm ought to be. Percy watched with narrowed eyes as the hellhound was sent hurtling through the air and the hulking mass of an arm reverted to normal. Now see that, that was what a mortal ought to have no business doing, and for all his months at playing the spy, he still had no inkling as to what was going on to cause these downright magical abilities. No matter, he'd kill them and get the answers from Father Ryker himself.
'Mrs O' Leary!' He called out sharply, eyeing the mortal warriors as they regrouped and dropped into a complicated stance that ended with blondie standing on their two shoulders with an baton pointed at him, like a silly rendition of some of the old kung fu movies he'd watched with his mother when he was younger. Only, these guys were no actors playing out some cheesy role in a badly filmed Chinese flick, these guys were the real deal and he'd seen them put down people that were supposed to be above their weight class. He grunted in reluctant appreciation for their martial prowess as his hellhound appeared at his side looking only slightly brained, idly noting that the other demigod captives had taken the time to flee during the chaos. The idiots were probably dead by now, he thought, never taking his eyes off his triad of opponents as he reached across O' Leary to unclip the two things fastened to her custom made saddle.
'Go girl, get the rest of the gang through and rescue the rest of the demigods. Artemis would be able to track them down easily enough.' And the hell hound licked his face one more time before disappearing into the shadows, leaving him with his opponents, items in hand.
The first item was a one armed, black gym bag that he slung across his shoulder and fitted firmly over his bare upper body. It might have looked plain, but it was one of the best tools in his arsenal, its worth second only to his primary weapon. The second thing was a familiar ballpoint pen with a note attached to it which he quickly discarded, having no time to read it with the triad of fighters already moving on him, and would you believe it, the one on their shoulders actually cleared the fifteen feet distance with a leap, leg outstretched for a punishing strike.
Percy smirked, having no doubt that Tyson had come through for him on the upgrade he requested, and uncapped his pen, his legendary sword springing free in all its celestial bronze glory—wait, what? He slid forward and under the kick, not allowing the distraction to cost him, before realizing that it had anyway, as the blondie had landed behind him to box him in together with his approaching teammates that were suddenly in front of him. Shit, what the Hades did Tyson do?
On instinct, but fearing it all the same, he blocked the baton crackling with electricity, and his opponents were as surprised as him that his weapon held and did not go through as expected. There was a very brief lull in the battle as they all considered this new information.
'Huh,' Percy remarked, pleased as he spied the grey tinge of mortal metal like a rash on the part of his sword that was still holding the baton at bay. 'I guess Tyson did come through for me after all then.' And then the moment was over and the battle continued in earnest.
Celestial bronze did not affect mortals because they were deemed to unworthy to ever come in contact with the godly metal, even if it was for ill purpose, and Percy would have really liked to see the look on the face of the gods that had decided that stupid rule when they saw these mortals going toe to toe with him. However, that restriction was only placed on mortals and not materials like metal or wool or something else like that. So, if one were to try to cut a mortal that was wearing a shirt with celestial bronze, the shirt would be in pieces but as soon as the blade came in contact with the mortal, it would become immaterial and pass through harmlessly. That was the way it was and the way it was supposed to be as decreed by the gods, but did these group of mortals care about that? No! These mortals took this supposed slight against their very existence and turned it into an advantage, finding a way to spread this protection onto their materials and possessions so that mortal material like metal and wool, passed through harmlessly. So if one were to try to cut these warriors with a celestial bronze sword, the sword would become immaterial and phase through their materials too, for example, a baton, and Percy had found that out the hard way when he had been brained straight in the face, his weapon offering no resistance whatsoever, and had almost been captured for real some five to six months ago. This was why he had requested an upgrade from Tyson—making it the second time he requested one—to find him something that worked well against mortals without any changes to his fighting style. And so he had left Riptide with the cyclops, with instructions to keep it with Mrs O' Leary when the work was completed, right before leaving on his undercover mission.
And at that moment, facing the three mortals, he was enjoying the fruit of his good thinking, and said mortals were starting to realise that maybe they had bitten off more than they could chew.
Percy deflected two rapid strikes against his person, Riptide a blur seeming to be everywhere at once as in the next split second, he was thrusting at blondie behind him, forcing the mortal to halt his charge, sliding under the sword with only inches to spare before turning his evasion move into an attack that had him bringing his leg for a strike against Percy's head as he spun horizontally under the blade. The demigod caught the foot however, and raw strength saw him swinging the whole body and using it to smash his fellow male guard away, before finally hurling the body at the female one, and as they all tumbled down like bowling pins in a manner that shamed their earlier grace and fluidity, a ferocious smirk graced Percy's face
Wasting no time, he pounced on the one that had sucker punched Mrs O'Leary earlier and a swift flurry of blows would have seen him sporting a dozen cuts in about two seconds, only avoiding dismemberment by the skin of his teeth and shielding with his force field, and then he could avoid it no longer as a complicated move of Riptide saw the baton falling down accompanied by two fingers. He screamed, and Percy smiled sinisterly before carving him in two from hip to shoulder, the hastily placed blue force field shattering at the force put into the swing, and blood and entrails spilling out like an upturned bowl of spaghetti. The demigod hardly gave him a second glance, bare chest flecked with blood as he turned his attention to the other two who were only just regaining their wits and had probably not even realized that their partner was gone. A flick of his hand, and a flex of will saw Riptide's handle elongate in a move that turned the weapon into some sort of polearm only with the original blade size and form unchanged and with a height of just over six feet. It made it a spear with a big ass blade and this spear was hurled with all of Percy's considerable demigod might, straight at blondie who had to be feeling at least a little dizzy from being used to bat away his friends.
Blondie was not in any shape to dodge or block, true, but busty was, and she knocked the projectile away with her baton, the both of them staggering back from the blow. They were wide open for Percy though, who had followed immediately after his spear and the both of them got feet planted in their chests as they were used as platforms for a backflip. Once again, their force fields absorbed the blow, and once again they were sent flying some feet away.
Landing in a slight crouch, Percy opened his palm and closed, and suddenly Riptide was there in pen form. The demigod exploded into motion, running at the recovering mortals as the cap of his weapon was flicked off for the second time, only it was the spear that appeared, and with a spinning leap to build up even more power and momentum, together with the longer reach the weapon afforded him, he aimed to separate upper from lower body parts at the waist.
'What in the name of Remnant...' Discipline broke in the face of this unrelenting assault, the mortals scattering as busty expressed her bewilderment, and from the private confines of her mask, bewilderment turned to something more akin to awe as the demigod lost no momentum from the miss, carrying it onto another attack, and another, and another, the spear whirling around in attacks they dare not attempt to block for fear of losing badly against his overwhelming strength. Then blondie, quick footed bastard that he was, managed to slip in the gap between one attack and the next, and close range, negating the longer reach of the weapon and trapping the demigod in a corner.
Or so he thought.
Percy smiled like the cat that got the cream as the weapon abruptly shortened just shy of being a sword proper, no delay at all in transition, and blondie found that it was he who was trapped as the sword edged for his neck still with no loss in the stockpiled momentum.
Boom, went blondie, who had managed to bring up his baton so that the sword smacked against it, and crushed it against his skull. Amazingly, his force field did not break, but he contacted the wall with a light shockwave, and slumped to the ground, unlikely to get up again. Though busty picked up the slack and she pulled a new trick out of her ass and breathed fire.
Unluckily for her, Percy was the son of Poseidon, and that accounted for a lot when it came to fire, so while it was hot enough to sting quite a bit, the demigod was not going to waste the opportunity and ploughed through it in a leap.
Suddenly, busty was eating sword, and shitting it out the back of her neck, and that was the end for her.
Everything was abruptly quiet bar the sound of Percy heaving, sword arm hanging by his side, soaked in blood. Come to think of it, he could taste iron on his tongue and his pants were soaked with bodily fluids not his own. The realization made him sigh in slight regret as taking a mortal life was never something he liked to do. He looked around, his gaze landing on the only one of his opponents that had not actually tasted his blade, and he decided to leave him be, whatever his fate. Unconscious or dead, it mattered not to him, only that he had made children suffer and had deigned to be in his way, though the thought of the suffering he had seen and endured under captivity had him rethinking whether or not to finish the job. In the end, he shrugged and walked on, retracing his steps back to the place he had vomited blood while still playing Jake Chambers, before taking a glance back at his defeated opponents. It was fortunate that they had not brought any true lethal weaponry with them, not deigning to carry any about since none of the prisoners were to be brought under serious harm. Had the otherwise been the case, the fight would have been a tad harder, with him not being at a hundred percent.
Percy clenched his hand in quiet contemplation as he elongated the handle of his sword, and leant tiredly on the spear. It had just been a day since his power had been last drained, and what little he had recovered had been spent pulling up his blood to make his act real, and pulling the enchanted amulet from his arm. He winced in phantom pains at the memory as he started discarding his pants, leaving him naked once more with a bag slung across his back. In truth, only determination and adrenaline had kept him through the fight because, though he had appeared fresh after the transformation, that was more the effect of Hazel's enchantments making him look as he had when he had first undergone the transformation to Jake Chambers. It was only on the outside though, on the inside, he was drained, hungry, tired, and he yearned for his bed. Under normal circumstances, he would have done nothing but eat and sleep for three days. The demigod snorted at the thought, unslinging his bag from his shoulder, opening it and digging his hand inside. These were not normal circumstances at all, he'd endure everything he had to, to get her back and kill whoever he needed to kill be it gods, titans or jacked up mortals, he'd kill them all.
Face grim with resolve, he turned his attention fully on the bag in his hands and on the task at hand.
'Nectar.' He said, bringing an image of what he wanted to the forefront of his mind, and his arm closed around a test tube, only reinforced by magic to be as durable as could be, filled to the brim with the golden drink of the gods. He popped the top open, and downed it whole, the taste of his mother's chocolate cookies in his mouth and his body starting to feel less drained. He closed the tube, dropped it in the bag, and fished out another. Again, and again, he drank tubes of nectar till his body began to buzz warningly at his over indulgence, and even then he continued drinking until smoke billowed freely off his skin and his eyes threatened to be taken over by the colour of ichor. Percy groaned, the pleasant feeling of gorging one self on the divine delicacy having long passed, leaving behind only the throes of terrible pain, then he began the process of converting the energy that threatened to blow him up into one that he could use to draw on his father's domain.
It was not a painless procedure, in fact, few things Percy had experienced in his twenty eight years of life could compare and the demigod had experienced a lot. Also, no matter how many times he had done it in the past it never truly got easier to bear. But it was necessary and he would, for her, he would. It took a moment, and in that time the building was shaken in a way that told him Artemis and her hunters were already at work, but he managed it, blowing breaths of steam as he brought himself under a semblance of control. It would not last long, neither the power or the control, for anytime he did this he became like a berserker, and level headed reasoning always became a trouble to hold onto like cupping water in one's hands. Though perhaps that was not the best analogy since he could actually do that, hmm.
Focus, he chided himself, blinking a few times, the veins under his eyes glowing golden in a macabre way as was usual. He dipped his hand into the bag again and procured a few other things that definitely could not have fit inside. Black pants, a black turtleneck, black boots, a black belt, and a brown jacket that looked like leather but was actually made of celestial bronze, gifted to him by Annabeth Chase who had strong-armed her mother into making it for their wedding. Its protection was not absolute, but it was better than most and also self repairing should it be damaged so far it was fed a bit of celestial bronze. He outfitted himself as fast as he could, then pulled out a couple other things like a holster that held three more test tubes of nectar, which he secured around his left thigh. He then reached in for a chain that bore a glass whistle, and a compass that dangled on another chain like a pendant. Opening it as was his habit, even though he knew what he would find there, he gazed upon the arrow of the compass spinning around endlessly like a crazed top, refusing to settle and point at any direction. The points on the compass were also not marked orthodoxly, for there were no north, south, east or west points but other markings that held meaning for those in the know. Percy closed it and kissed it before pocketing it and securing his prized bag back tight across his shoulder so it would not get in the way of the fighting sure to come, then he took the glass whistle that he had slung around his neck, and blew, and this version of it did not shatter like the one Daedalus had gifted to him all those years ago. No sound escaped it for him to hear but he was sure that his companion heard him nonetheless, and she came, whining in displeasure as she saw the glowing veins spreading beneath his eyes like poison and beheld his tortured expression. He mounted Mrs O'Leary, patted her flank and ordered
'Take me to Artemis.'
The plan had been a simple one, feign capture and get taken along with the other demigods in order to figure out where the mortal base was, where the captive demigods were being held, and spring an assault to rescue them. Immediately he had been thrown in a cell with the other demigods, Percy should have activated the amulet so painstakingly buried in his arm, and summoned the cavalry that consisted of Mrs O' Leary, and the hunters of Artemis accompanied by the goddess herself. But arriving at the prison, there had been a couple of kinks to the plan.
First of all, the prison was in Alaska, the land beyond the gods which meant that Artemis could not instantly flash to his location when he did activate the amulet as she would have to take more mundane means of travel to get to him. It was fortunate that Percy's paranoia had seen him include Mrs O' Leary in his exit strategy because the hellhound bore no limitations on her shadow travelling abilities except for her energy, and he had reasoned that most bad guys he knew worked with the monsters, not against them so there should be no reason for the place to be warded against the spawns of Tartarus. He was correct.
The second problem to springing the trap as soon as he'd arrived was the fact that his own personal stake in the mission had forced him to wait and see what sort of information he could gather and what sort of insights he could glean that could clue him in as to what the ultimate goal was, and to what the ultimate fate of the captive demigods would be. He had not been successful in deciphering the ultimate goal, though he had some guesses, and he still did not know just under who's banner it was that Ryker and his band of warriors operated, but he had managed to glean something of the reason they were drained of power and what he had found had kindled his hope anew and given him the resolve to bear the months of torture.
The general gist of it was that Ryker and his ilk had come from somewhere really far away, or at least a place that was very hard to get to, and they needed quite a lot of power to open up a magical doorway that could punch through the distance and transport them to their destination. The power drained from the demigods were stockpiled in the pillars in Ryker's holy chamber, and when it was enough, they would open up a portal, and jump through to their homeland.
Percy had picked up enough to know that they made the trip from their homeland in search of demigods to take back as offerings to the one true god, but the who, where, and why still eluded him and he very much itched to find out the answers to those questions. He also knew that this was the fourth time they had made the trip to and fro, and they were still planning on coming back for more demigods. However, as much as it had hurt him to watch his fellow demigods being tortured day in they out for their birth right, knowing that he had the power to put a stop to it but doing nothing, he had needed the mortals to succeed because they had once taken someone very precious to him, and if he was right she had been transported to their homeland and hope refused to let him consider the very likely possibility that she was dead even if it had been almost five years.
Percy refused to give up on her, and he was prepared to let other people suffer if it meant getting her back.
Darkness gathered and dispersed in Ryker's holy chamber, dropping Mrs O' Leary and a son of Poseidon doped on nectar to a scene of absolute chaos. Sound did not really travel well through the walls of the prison and so one could be forgiven for being inside yet not knowing that a war was taking place next door, for it was indeed a war. The sounds that had been so muted before blasted Percy with a violent intensity. Everywhere he looked girls in silver parka fired arrows faster than most could shoot guns and wielded silver hunting knives in a fierce assault against the mortals. Lightning flashed, fire rained down, and the captured demigods, weak but too hungry for revenge to be wise and stay out of it joined in, beating on the mortals with screams of rage and everything they had left to give.
Of course, the mortals gave as good as they got too. Numbering by the dozens, they put down demigods and huntresses alike as though they were god spawn themselves, blurring around the battlefield and committing inhuman feats all around and Percy noticed that they had cut loose totally, every strike aimed to kill not subdue as it had been before.
'Hades.' Whispered the son of Poseidon as he watched one mortal punch a hunter so hard, she vomited blood like a water pump and took three of her fellow sisters down on the path of her flight. Another was downed by a hail of arrows even as his palm dug around in someone's chest for her heart, meanwhile one particularly berserk one just absorbed all sort of blows on her force field negligently, rampaging about with attacks that pulped skulls on contact, and was only downed by a bolt of lightning that lasted a good seven seconds from Thalia Grace. Even then the body was only smoking badly, but not charred like one would expect which led one to believe that the mortal could probably survive the attack with sufficient medical attention.
'What the Hades are they feeding these mortals nowadays?' Yelled the lieutenant in incredulity even as she speared another mortal through the stomach, shattering his force field in a single blow and Percy wondered that himself. Shaking his head, his eyes sought out Father Ryker amidst the chaos and found him alight with a purple glow, very much holding his own and booting demigods and hunters alike through the orb of light in the centre of the pillars, sending them through the portal to wherever his homeland was.
However in the next moment the unholy Father found himself missing an arm, force field be damned, to a small sized twelve year old girl who had her eyes alight in silver light, brimming with potent divine fury. In the next second, Ryker also lost his other arm at the elbow even as he hurled himself through the portal and away from the goddess who, diminished though her power was in this land, still had the strength to tear him limb from limb and was more than willing to do it.
Artemis roared in furious frustration at his escape—even though the man was probably dead—and a manifestation of her emotions emerged in a wave of silver that spread outwards, burning all mortals that came in contact with it to ash, smashing through their force fields like it wasn't even there. Then the goddess calmed herself and edged closer to one of the pillars, studying it before placing her hand on it, and Percy assumed rightly that she was going to try to close the portal.
The son of Poseidon couldn't have that, not when the reason for all this was on the other side of that portal, and he still needed to get through.
Riptide's handle extended into its maximum length, causing the weapon to be around nine feet, and he spurred Mrs O' Leary on like a demon knight, charging for the portal and attacking all mortals that he came across on his path. Most of the mortals he came across died from the force of his spear thrust, and most of those that did not die as a result of their strong force fields were quickly taken advantage of by the hunters. The few that deigned to actually follow after him and attack—like one particular idiotic brunette missing his mask—were either bitch slapped off O' Leary or diced and sliced to kingdom come.
'In case this turns out to be a one way trip,' Percy spoke as they neared the portal 'Goodbye O' Leary.' Then he dug his heels in and leapt, diving into th-
'Ooof' He dove straight into a flying kick that sent him sprawling into the ground at least ten feet away with his head ringing. The face of Artemis soon loomed over him with her ethereal beauty and a sneer on her lips. The sounds of battle in the background seemed to be quietening as the hunters mopped up the rest of the mortals, or maybe his bell was just rung that hard. Fucking moon goddess!
'What in the world did you think you were about to do Perseus?' Her tone was cold and regal, peering down at him with a haughty mien, and it was all Percy could do to keep himself from slugging her in the face. He did let out a feral growl though, but her only reaction was to raise an eyebrow at him, her gaze lingering curiously on the glowing veins beneath his eyes.
He spat to the side, and rose to his feet, adjusting his grip on his sword as he glared down at her,.
'I'm going through.' He growled out, bristling with impatience. He had no idea when the portal was going to run out of power, and he needed to be through it before it did. The goddess said nothing for a moment, staring unblinkingly at him, and when she did speak, her tone was soft, full of disappointment and pity.
'I have assessed these pillars that hold open the doorway.' She stated. 'In them I felt the energies of quite a few souls, engineered quite thoroughly to the singular purpose of tearing a breach from our world into depths unknown.' She stared at him piercingly, searching for something within his eyes in that manner that all gods had, like they were seeing through your soul and made you want to hide yourself in a corner to escape their gaze. All Percy felt at that moment was the ever growing desire to take a swing at her for standing in his way. Only the last vestiges of self control held him back and he continued to growl at her, willing her to take a hint.
'Three months have passed son of Poseidon, since you requested my aid in destroying this place and in rescuing your kin, and I promised you my bow when the rest of the gods wouldn't either due to disbelief at your claims or restrictions by the ancient laws. In that time, it had been assumed that the amulet had failed and you were unable to call for aid, and the maiden Hazel has been heaping blame upon herself in guilt for failing to enchant it properly.' She stopped for a second to narrow her eyes at him in accusation.
'But all signs point to your silence as intentional. If I didn't know better, I would say that you allowed your fellow demigods to suffer and be tortured for their power, and threatened our existence by allowing these things to paw at the fabric of our reality in order for you to cling on to something long gone. You let innocent maidens be tortured endlessly for this to happen.' She waited for a reply, for an explanation, staring at him in a way that said give me one good reason why I should not put you down like the scum you are!
Meanwhile Percy was left slightly reeling at a part of her statement that came as news to him, surprise piercing through the feral haze that had descended on him and unbidden, he flicked his gaze over to the portal still going on strong in a blaze of white light.
Fabric of our reality? The Hades were these mortals fiddling with? He thought, but then even if he had known, he probably wouldn't have done things differently, not when there was still a chance that she was still alive on the other side. He said as much to the moon goddess, and fury bloomed on her face.
'She has been dead for five years Perseus!' The roar took everyone off guard, even the goddess that blurted the words, though she didn't let anybody else know that as her eyes went alight with rage and she jabbed an angry finger at him. At this point, the battle had reduced in intensity as the mortals were progressively killed, and Artemis herself had cleared a wide area free of them with her earlier display of rage. This meant that some of the hunters that were nearby could afford to be captivated by the confrontation as they looked warily and uneasily between the living legend and their patron goddess.
However, the feral haze had descended upon Percy again and common sense eluded him as he batted her hand away with a roar of his own, stepping right into her face.
'You don't know that! Nobody, not even Hades knows what happened to her so I will not give up, I won't! If there's a slight chance that my girl is alive I will stop at nothing to get her back.' He pointed at the portal 'You see that? On the other side of that, she lives, sure as my father is King of the sea, and I'm going to get her back. I'm sorry other people had to suffer for it, truly I am, and when I do get her and make sure she's safe, I'll pay whatever penance you want me to. But right now, I really need you to get the fuck out of my way!'
For a moment the glow in Artemis' eyes grew almost blinding, and Percy's grip tightened on his sword as she looked like she would start raining fire and brimstone down any moment. But she closed her eyes, relaxed her posture, and sighed through her nose. And when she spoke next, her voice was soft.
'Once again a male has managed to raise my opinion of them, and once again that opinion has been brought low. Were it any other man, under any other circumstances, that dared to speak to me as you just have after committing these actions, I would have torn his heart out and fed it to my wolves. But you are a man broken by love Perseus, one whose heart has been mangled already for many years now, and out of respect for you and some others I will not take what remains of it and roast it over my campfire.' She turned then without looking at him, and strode towards the pillars with a determined edge to her step, speaking as she did so like a queen passing judgement.
'For your own good I shall not allow you to act on your ignorance and stubbornness to pass through this taint on our world and descend into depths unknown. This pillars of abomination will be turned to rubble by my hands and you will be carted up to Olympus to be brought under the gaze of the Olympian council for standing idly by while your fellow demigods were tortured for their birth right.' She flicked a hand to the right and the hunters that had been standing by, watching, warily drew closer, tightening their grips on their weapons. Meanwhile, a few metres away where she had been chewing on a mortal, Mrs O' Leary half whined, half growled at this turn of events.
'You can't do that.' Percy said desperately, knuckles white on the grip of his sword. 'This is the only concrete lead I have had in five years. And what of these mortals, don't you want to know what, how, why, who has been doing all this? They spoke of a god, you know.' At that, Artemis halted, tilting her head in consideration for a few moments before shaking it and pressing onwards.
'That will be dealt with in time,' She said, waving her hand around 'There are plenty of mortals to question and this is the bigger threat for now. It must be done.'
At the steel and finality in her voice, Percy did not bother mentioning that they would probably have no chance to question anyone because of their suicide teeth, instead breathing in and out deeply and steeling himself for what was to come. The hunters saw his decision in his eyes and settled into stances, which caught Artemis' attention.
'Perseus,' she said warningly. 'Do not do something you'll regret.'
The son of Poseidon smiled, settling into a stance of his own with both hands on his six foot spear outstretched behind him, left leg forwards. And he was thankful that Thalia was not among the number that faced him, the sounds of lightning crashing somewhere far to his east telling him that she was still busy with her own battles.
'I'm afraid I have no choice Lady Artemis. For the record, you've always been my favourite goddess.' And he exploded into motion.
He swept his spear in a blindingly fast arc around him, maximizing its length as he did so and catching some of the hunters by surprise. Those who got clipped were hurled aside as he had attacked with the flat of the blade and not the edge, some that managed to evade danced further out of his range in order to bring their bows in to play, while the rest closed in on him with their hunting knives. The hunters of Artemis were good, crazy good, but he was Percy Jackson on nectar steroids with nothing to lose and everything to gain.
Then Mrs O' Leary made his job easier when she bull rushed them from the side, scattering their formations and giving him an opening to take advantage of. Gods he loved that hellhound.
His left hand swept out in an arc, and jagged icicles made from the moisture in the air hurtled at the archers, forcing them to decide between taking their shots or getting maimed and when they chose the sensible option, they immediately got harassed by Mrs O' Leary. At the same time, his sword arm came up, liver, ribs, neck, groin strikes were deflected with blinding speed and unbeatable technique, twisting his sword this way and that even as he manoeuvred his attacker so that she was blocking at least two of her sisters from having a shot with their knives. Then she stepped wrongly and got kicked hard enough to make her forget which side was up, bowling into those behind her even as another hunter took her place and immediately got a pommel to the temple that slumped her.
Three more huntresses A, B, C, were approaching him in a clear attempt to flank him and box him in but Percy was having none of it and he hurled his spear at huntress B, the one directly in his line of sight, though it was a feint. The spear did not even near her as Percy closed his hand around empty space and it was in his palm again, but the hunter had already thrown herself to the side and the other two advanced without her.
Huntress A, the one trying to flank him from his left reached him first, left hand stabbing straight at his eye with her dagger and following it up with the other at his torso. Percy sidestepped sharply, causing her to miss, then grabbed her still outstretched left hand and slammed the pommel of his sword on the back of her elbow, breaking it. She screamed, but swung at him with her other hand, dagger aiming for his neck in a strike that he evaded by leaning back before punching her hard in the face while she was off balance. She went down sharply, the whole exchange having taken just two seconds but Percy was granted no reprieve as the other huntress C, the one trying to flank him from his right descended upon him. And she led her attack with a flying knee aimed for his face, huntress B not too far behind.
Percy held his sword with both hands, one on the flat on the blade as he placed it in the path of the knee strike. He backpedalled in a controlled stagger from the force of contact even as he arced his blade for her neck, its handle elongating just a bit for the strike to connect. She blocked it on her daggers, grunting, and Percy backpedalled again because huntress B had reached them and got in his face, attacking ferociously. She looked a bit put out that she had fallen for his trick earlier and that got him to smirk, flip his sword into a reverse grip, and flex his will. All the handle length that got his weapon transforming from sword to spear exploded out in full, the butt of the now nine foot spear slamming into her midsection with a force that had her spurting blood on contact, folding her in two and hurling her backwards like a bullet. There was no doubt she was down for the count, and Percy was unsure if she would even survive the hit without quick medical attention.
While huntress C watched in shock as her fellow hunter was sent packing, Percy shortened his weapon to six feet, whirled it over his head, and swung the flat side of the blade into the side of her head with a roar of effort, satisfied as she too got brained into the realm of Morpheus.
'Enough!' The roar came from the airborne silver blur that planted her foot in his chest in a move that blew him completely off his feet and hauled him on his ass. Groaning from the pain of impact, Percy nevertheless recovered quickly, rolling backwards to avoid the axe kick that pulverized the stone beneath their feet. The remaining hunters that had been about to move on him were stopped dead in their tracks, and Percy just had the time to notice that other fighting had stopped completely and all the conscious hunters were currently staring as Artemis herself knifed for his head. Enormous strength, speed and power were packed into the goddess' twelve year old frame, her skill with the knives was beyond exceptional and Percy was hard pressed to defend himself, working overtime and starting to run on fumes as weariness began to set in from the need to rest.
Artemis fought like an angel with devil wings, meaning to say she fought like an abomination. She was everywhere at once, stabbing, slashing, kicking and performing unnatural acrobatic feats that aided her in harrying him. In that first exchange, Percy took some blows to his person, his jacket keeping the blades from penetrating and mitigating a great deal of the impact, but the impact he felt was still enough to put him in a world of pain. But as he got used to her fighting style, he began to push back, then Artemis was abruptly swept of her feet with a low sweeping kick, and Percy came around as she was falling and had a kick planted in her abdomen that created a few feet of distance between them. It was one of his favourite moves.
Taking advantage of the brief reprieve, he quickly fetched two test tubes from his left thigh and swallowed down the nectar, feeling himself start to burn up again, and had just enough time to slide the tubes back in their holsters before the goddess attacked him again. This time she drew her bow and fired at a rate of six arrows per second.
Percy roared in challenge and his sword blurred, deflecting the projectiles even as he backpedalled from the force, and sent projectiles of his own in the form of an uncountable number of ice shards that bulleted at her. The goddess did not even move to block, the ice shattering against her skin, but that was alright, Percy just needed to obstruct her sight so that she could stop firing at him for a second or two. The son of Poseidon used those precious seconds to pull liquid from every inanimate source he could find, the atmosphere, the many litres of blood from the multitude of dead bodies that littered the room. It all came together in a gory wave that he blasted forwards as a stream of highly pressurized fluid, bringing everything he had to bear on the goddess
'Get out of my way!' He roared, and Artemis' eyes widened in alarm at the sight, hearing the sea god's voice coming out of his son at that very moment. The attack was too fast and too damned powerful for her to do anything more than stand there and take it, and she found herself feeling like Poseidon himself had set his rage upon her as pressurized liquid drove her into one of the pillars in the centre of the room. A large shockwave erupted from the point of contact and she heard something crack loudly, though whether that came from her or the pillar behind her, or maybe even both, she couldn't say.
Normally, a mortal could not truly hurt a god without divine metals, but this was Alaska where godly powers were greatly diminished, and the pain that hammered Artemis made her question for a fleeting moment if she would meet her end there. Credit to her, when the attack ran out, she recovered fast with just a few seconds and she saw that in that time, the son of Poseidon had used his gory wave to blow all the other occupants of the room away, and was already bounding for her at incredible speeds, shrouded in a thick film of liquid that boosted his abilities.
As she delayed his advance by sending him packing with a bolt of raw godly energy, she could not help but wonder just how it was that the demigod managed to harness the power of nectar for his own purposes. She had heard of it before as tales of his exploits in recent years were always cause for discussion on the council, but she had never seen it with her own eyes, and she imagined what it would be like to face him when he was fresh and used the technique. How much of an equalizer would that be? Crude though his method might have been, he was the first demigod to ever manage it, something that only gods should have been able to do.
Artemis shook her head slightly to clear out the ringing, casting her mind off her curiosity and speculations as she brought her bow around to block the sword edging for her neck. With the film of water around him, he was far faster than he had been before, every stroke of his blade as powerful as her own and his skill with his weapon was incredible. Disoriented though she was, she was not a goddess for nothing and she was able to match him.
Percy pressed the attack on the moon goddess, not wanting to give her the chance to recover seeing as he was on his last legs. The lack of rest was catching up to him and there was only so much nectar he could consume before his body shut down, advanced energy technique or not. His blows came with an intense fury as he noticed that the light of the portal behind her had changed and did not seem to be as bright as before. Now there were hints of pinks and blues running through it and Percy took that to mean that his window of opportunity was closing and the pillars were losing power. He needed to get to the other side, and that need saw him pressing the goddess with everything he had, and more. Loss drove him, hope gave him strength, and love gave him resolve, and he knew, he just knew that should he get to the other side, everything would be alright and he would see her again.
So he came at the goddess again and again, giving her no room to breathe, slashing, spinning, and kicking with his weapon changing forms at unpredictable intervals, steadily whittling down her defences. He harried her against the pillar, making sure not to give her the space she really needed to go all rabid on him again like their first exchange. In a minute, they were both sporting cuts from multiple parts of her body where they had managed to nick themselves, and in the next, Percy saw the moment she decided to cut loose and stop holding back for fear of killing him. The son of Poseidon really couldn't have that, so luckily for him as her eyes burst into silver flames, he found a hole in her guard and exploited it, deflecting her knives to the side and putting all he had into a kick to her chest. The kick blasted her into the same pillar as before, and Percy saw that cracks were running through it that were not there previously, but he had no time to ponder what that might mean as she came at him again with an unearthly roar, truly seeking his head this time around.
She ate a dropkick for her troubles however, and was sent smashing against the pillar for the third time. This time however, as another shockwave blew from the point of impact, the stress proved too much for the pillar, and it cracked and splintered, tumbling down in chunks of obsidian rocks.
But at that moment, for all his focus had been on the pillars and their portal, Percy stood in shock at one thing; his dropkick had sent Artemis straight through the pillar and into the writhing, destabilizing portal. He took one second to stare, first at the portal then at the band of hunters and demigods that had come around and were also staring in shock.
'Screw it!' He said, and made his escape, diving headfirst into the mess of rapidly shrinking lights that the portal had become before the hunters could regain their wits. Mrs O' Leary let out a great whine and bounded after him, leaping into the portal just before it winked close in her wake.
All was quiet for a long moment as everyone still standing sought to process what they had seen.
'What the Hades just happened?!' Thundered Thalia Grace as she recovered her faculties. She stared around at everyone, and everyone stared back. No one had an answer.
'Well, fuck!'
Sometime later, one of the youngest hunters asked;
'Wait, now that the hellhound is gone too are we going to have to trek back?'