The Primordial of the Pit
Ascension of the Fallen: Chapter 27
Perseus, the fallen god, stood before the Protegenos of the Pit, Tartarus himself. And yet, he wasn't afraid, really.
He was the god of darkness, time, and mountains, who had faced down threat after threat, time and time again. The Primordial of the Pit was just another obstacle to him.
"Thalassa," he called out. The water primordial turned her head, tilting it in question.
He smirked, "Would you finish off Typhon, and check on the demigod camps? I would like to test myself against ol' Tarty-boy here."
You didn't insult a primordial and not expect to get smited. That is, if you were a simple god or mortal. For Perseus, it was just another Tuesday.
He'd fought Ouranos before.
And lost, he reminded himself. But it was different now. He was stronger now, with the power boost that Chronos had given him. He was confident in his ability to defeat the Primordial of the Pit.
"I tolerated you in my domain, Perseus," Tartarus rumbled, "I allowed you to survive in my domain, the Pit, when you were exiled from Olympus. But it seems that you have grown even more insolent than before."
"Come on Tar-Tar, we were buddies before!" he grinned, unperturbed, even as a dark malevolence began building up around the Protogenos of the Pit.
Thalassa giggled, seemingly amused at this turn of events.
"Very well then, Perseus."
She turned, and, in a flash of water, rocketed towards the shoreline, towards the lying Typhon that seemed to be just getting up.
"You will die, for that, godling," Tartarus rumbled. His large hand clutched his sword again; it was a massive broadsword, pitch black, glowing with malevolence and power. The waves that rolled off from him would flatten any other god. There was an intrinsic, true spite, and bitterness, and hatred in it.
"I've heard those words before... many, many times."
Zoferós appeared in his hand, glowing and humming, almost as if it had felt the touch of its owner. The gold lines that stretched down the sword drank in his power, relishing it.
The god of darkness did not mind. His blade would need to be powered to defeat that monstrosity, that behemoth of a sword.
"From my rivals, that is. Each time, they perished. The story of my rivals has always been one of strangeness..."
He walked forward, dragging Zoferós behind him. The tip of his symbol of power flamed, releasing small, miniature arcs of gold as it dragged along the ground, menacingly.
His eyes glowed golden with power, wisps of darkness trailing from the edges of his retinas.
Tartarus seemed to stand taller. He closed his eyes, and, when he opened them, there were six eyes on his face instead of two. His form was changing, rippling before his very eyes.
Good. The Protogenos of the Pit was taking this seriously.
Perseus smirked, bringing out his off hand, and raising an index finger. He crooked his index finger towards him, tauntingly. For all intents and purposes, the ego and pride of primordials and protogenoi could always be counted upon.
Tartarus did not rise to his taunt. Or rather, he did, but not verbally.
He burst across the sea with immense speed, the mere force causing the sea to split apart.
The god of time and mountains didn't move. Instead, he flicked his fingers on both hands outwards, summoning the strands of time. He weaved them intricately, calling upon his old knowledge. It was a hard spell to cast, but he would do it anyway.
He waited for Tartarus to come to him.
Gods, he was slow. Or maybe it was because Perseus had cast a powerful net of time in that region before Tartarus had crossed it.
He was a primordial, yes, but so was Perseus. The time net wouldn't really affect the primordial that much, but it would buy the god some time.
An intricate network of golden, glowing symbols appeared beneath his feet, and they rotated, spinning rapidly, accelerating more, and more.
And it was done.
Tartarus finally reached him, and the primordial brought his broadsword down, trying to crush the seemingly unaware god.
The god leapt backwards, avoiding the downward slash. Still, the mere friction from the impact of the sword left shockwaves blowing outwards. It ripped the ground up, but Perseus blocked with a shield of darkness. His heels still dug into the ground as it happened, but he only slid a few dozen feet backwards.
Tartarus leapt towards him, covering the distance much faster now that the time net was gone. The Protogenos of the Pit brought his great malevolent broadsword above his head, his great muscles rippling with strength. And he brought it down with all his might, the air seemingly parting before it as it came down.
This time, though, the god of time, darkness, and mountains didn't dodge. No, he met it with his own physical strength.
He brought Zoferós up with equal, if not greater force. It too, split the air before it, seemingly unleashing a beam of golden light, mixing with its own, intrinsic darkness, its own duality of nature that was almost paradoxical, in a way.
The two blades met. Zoferós clashed against the great broadsword of Tartarus.
And both the mortal and divine worlds learned the true meaning of strength.
The sea was split in two, the seabed underneath being split in two into a ravine. Their collision caused a 10.0 magnitude earthquake in the local area, the fault lines of the tectonic plates rippling under the stress. Islands in the vicinity were shaken under the shockwaves, and mountain tops were blown off, sheared in two. Volcanos under the surface erupted molten magma from the sheer pressure. The earth groaned under the grappling powers, straining under the pressure.
A great beam of gold, black, and purple pierced the heavens, coalescing into arcs of pure power. It breached, then exploded outwards, a shining sheen of energy that dissipated across the atmosphere.
Perseus and Tartarus were sent careening away from each other. The god of time, darkness, and mountains flipped, skimming off the waves, until he reached an island. He dug Zoferós into the dirt with both hands, and a dark energy surrounded him, as it helped slow him down. He finally came to a stop, a dust cloud having kicked up in front of him from his traction, or lack thereof.
The Primordial of the Pit was coming for him, he knew. He would spring straight through that dust cloud, and try to catch him off guard.
And so, he prepared himself.
Flicking his fingers outwards, the glowing strings of time once again manifested themselves before his divine will. He twisted and manipulated them with ease, crossing the threads with each other and pouring his true power into them. All of his power.
A rotating wheel of golden threads was formed, and he held them. It was the same attack he had used against Typhon, the Father of all monsters, experimenting out of pure curiosity, and he would try it again.
Then, just as he had predicted, the Protogenos of the Pit bounded through the dust cloud. This time, though, instead of trying to charge at him with his broadsword, he sent a beam of pure, black malevolence at him. It soared through the air faster than any could see, but Perseus had already unleashed his cutting threads of time.
The golden strands unleashed arcs of power through the air faster than the naked eye could see, and no sooner had he released the threads did they clash into Tartarus' beam.
It was a blur of power, his strands against the beam of the Protogenos of the Pit, but Tartarus was only augmenting his power.
The god of time refused to let up, and he powered the strands even further, reinvigorating them. They pushed with even greater force against Tartarus' beam of blackness, twisting and turning every which way to try and overpower it.
Adding a second attack, the god of mountains sent blades of darkness down from the clouds above. The sky was stricken with silent, deadly dark blades, ready to hit and kill at a moment's notice. Tartarus formed an overhead shield, though, defending himself from it.
Still, the god had successfully split Tartarus' attention, even for a brief moment. Tartarus' power input into his beam faltered, and Perseus' cutting threads gained just a little more ground.
The Protogenos of the Pit couldn't let go, because he wouldn't be able to dodge the strands of time that moved in a blur, due to his massive body mass. He had to win this battle.
But the god of darkness and time had another trick up his sleeve.
Perseus felt his incantation complete, and he grinned. His time augmentation had completed itself.
Yes, he couldn't substantially affect other powerful beings' movements through time and space. But he could affect his own.
Not by speeding himself up, but by increasing his perception of time itself. Where before, Tartarus could still keep up with Perseus, now, he couldn't.
The god of time darted around the entire power struggle, circling it with such speed that even a blur could not be seen behind him.
And he reappeared behind Tartarus.
The Protogenos of the Pit apparently had a sixth sense, though, and he violently twisted around, trying to block.
Too slow.
And the god of time and darkness struck with the force of a thousand suns. Zoferós came down, smashing the Protogenos of the Pit into the ground. The ground and the earth tore up, as Tartarus' body went flying downwards, towards earth's core.
The impact created a pit a hundred feet wide, and a hundred feet deep. The ash from the strike covered the visibility, and the god could not see what the primordial was doing.
It suddenly occurred to him that he had put the Pit in a pit... how ironic.
Perseus saw it coming before it actually came. He sent himself backwards, backpedaling as he watched the ground he had just been standing on tear up.
It was the first time Tartarus had been truly hit, and gods was he angry.
The Protogenos of the Pit had taken on a monstrous form. Great, black and purple tentacles spanning several dozen feet exploded from his back, arms, and thighs, and his six eyes seemed to be black with raw hatred; his sclerae were bleeding red.
His wound was clearly visible; a split open chest, that was still mending itself together. He had been almost utterly bisected, and despite his impressive healing factor, his regeneration still wasn't enough to come back together immediately. Perseus could see the silver ichor that slowly dripped from his open wound, occasionally spurting onto the ground.
The next thing Perseus noticed was his armor. Tartarus now wore a darkish purple chest plate and bracers, that seemed to mold to his body, but change shape, and shift before his very eyes. Perseus could hear screams of pure pain and agony from the faces that were plastered on the chest plate, as if they were actually alive.
The pure malevolence that had surrounded him before seemed to double, no, triple, into a black energy, that manifested itself at the primordial's fingertips, which had razor-sharp talons.
"So that's how you actually look," the god of time cheekily commented.
The Primordial of the Pit growled, seemingly infuriated at Perseus' lack of fear before him.
"Oh dear, that seems to be a problem," the god of time and darkness mused, "Hmm... let me see... No bitches?"
Tartarus growled again, and this time, Perseus could feel the ground under him being moved towards the Primordial of the Pit, as if he had some sort of dark gravity.
A bolt of darkness shot out from Tartarus' hand, but before it could even leave the primordial's, the god had already usurped control over it. It was his domain after all, not directly Tartarus'.
It whirled around, slamming into Tartarus' chest, but the Protogenos gave no indication that it even hit him. The bolt pinged right off his armor and dissipated. And yet, the impact wasn't there.
Tartarus did not move, standing still like an animated statue. It wasn't as if the primordial resisted the impact; the impact just wasn't there. The bolt had never pinged off the armor in the first place...
What was that?
"My armor negates cause and effect, godling. Perseus... you will die, today."
Okay, then he could just target all the weak spots without armor and damage Tartarus that way, he nodded to himself.
And then the Protogenos of the Pit's armor molded and shifted again, and it seemed to ripple across his form. A helmet formed, and shin guards and vambraces, and soon enough, the armor had once again altered itself. It now covered Tartarus' entire body.
Okay, now that, Perseus reluctantly admitted to himself, was a problem...
In the demigod camps, the battle raged on, with no signs of dying out any time soon.
On the West Coast, in Camp Jupiter, the Council of the Seven fought against the gods, as Camp Half-Blood struggled to defend itself against the monsters that poured forth from the Labyrinth in numbers unheard of since the Age of Heroes and Men. However, help soon arrived. In Camp Half-Blood and Camp Jupiter, phusias led by the Phusia King Xor followed their master Perseus' command to aid the camps' defenses, as they rained down hellfire on the offending beasts.
The Council of the Seven were being pushed back, the monsters were being pushed back, and they were winning! They were winning...
Until they showed up.
At Camp Jupiter, Japetus, the Piercer, the Titan Lord of the West, and Polus, the Titan Lord of the North laid siege against the terrified Roman demigods, who were horribly outmatched. Here, on the battlefield, were three of their most treasured gods: Jupiter, Mars, and Bellona, amongst many other gods like Mercury and minor gods and titans such as Pallas, fighting against unknown immortals and great titans who had shown up on their front doorstep.
In Camp Half-Blood, Poseidon, Hades, Menoetius and the other Olympians fought against the titans Phoebe and Mnemosyne, and the swathes of monsters that still rampaged forth from the Labryinth.
And yet, they were winning. Still, fate and destiny were not done just yet...
In the distance, they had risen. Risen from their mother's rebirth, from their father's awakening, they were here.
The Giants.
Onus, King of the Giants, Bane of Perseus himself.
Porphyrion, Bane of Zeus. Polybotes, Bane of Poseidon. Alyconeus, Bane of Hades.
The Thirteen Giants marched towards Camp Half-Blood, their every footstep shaking the ground with earthquakes.
On Olympus, Kronos himself, King of the Titans arrived, only to see Zeus, King of the Gods, his own son, defiantly standing against him. Ouranos appeared, as regal as ever, floating on a cloud beside the King of the Gods.
Three generations of immortals. Ouranos, the father of Kronos, and Kronos, the father of Zeus. They were going to have a showdown.
Thalassa zoomed towards Camp Jupiter, but she was never quite as fast on land as she was on water, being one of the protogenoi of the sea, after all.
Suddenly, the earth shook uncontrollably, and she lost her balance. She skid to a stop, the dust kicking up in front of her.
And, through the dust, she could sense the presence of another primordial. Glowing green with ethereal power, Gaea, the Protogenos of the Earth, rose in front of her.
"Unfortunately, I cannot allow you to aid in the defense of any of the two camps," she boomed, the Earth quaking.
Erebus, the Protogenos of Darkness manifested himself before them, standing next to Gaea in a clear act of alliance.
The primordial goddess of fresh water was in dire need of assistance. She would lose this, without help.
But luckily enough, Thalassa was not without aid.
Chronos appeared beside her, and Nyx, primordial goddess of the Night. Thalassa felt confident, now.
Until her own husband, Pontus, appeared in a whirlpool of water. But not beside her, as it should have been.
He appeared next to Gaea, and Erebus.
"Pontus..."
"My apologies dear," he smiled weakly at her, "I cannot support the god of time and darkness in this war. I must have my own interests at heart first."
"I see how it is..."
Thalassa nodded sadly, partially to herself. She felt a hand be placed on her right shoulder, and realized it was Nyx, who was looking at her sympathetically.
"We'll win."
Erebus tilted his head at them, pondering; his face was devoid of any emotion, as he spoke in a monotone form of voice.
"Will you?"
Tartarus shot towards him, even faster than before. Still, with his boosted perception of time, the god was able to move out of the way. It suddenly occurred to Perseus that Tartarus seemed to be keeping up with him.
The god of time flowed out of the way, but Tartarus followed. Dozens of tentacles came out from his back, rapidly shooting towards him.
Perseus flicked his fingers forth again, the strands of time obeying his will. The cutting threads formed once again, rotating fearsomely, as he sent them forward.
They cut through the tentacles like butter, his divine power proving too much for even the hide of Tartarus to resist.
Still, as the rotating cage of golden threads hit the primordial's armor, it dissipated; it disintegrated, cut into pieces. It was, for all intents and purposes, useless.
Perseus grit his teeth as he watched it all unfold in front of his eyes. He fired again, sending bolts of darkness, and manipulating the earth into spikes, and sending his threads of time against Tartarus, but to no avail.
His ranged attacks were useless. But so were the Primordial of the Pit's ranged attacks.
Tentacle after tentacle was sent at him, arcs of power were unleashed from the Primordial of the Pit's broadsword. The god summoned a shield of darkness, so thick that when they hit, they were split apart. As the tentacles struck the levitating shield, they bifurcated into two, before disintegrating. The arcs of malevolence were the same, dissipating upon contact.
Tartarus unleashed a beam, but Perseus only added to the darkness shield, cross layering it with more strands of time.
The beam struck the shield with true force, a rush of wind adding to the force, but it bifurcated once more, splitting off. One beam angled into the sea, bisecting it, and the other shot across the horizon of the ocean, hitting some distant island.
They had to get up close and personal. Perseus was sure that Zoferós would be able to deal at least some damage to that cause and effect negating armor.
The god of time, darkness, and mountains could see that Tartarus seemed to notice the same thing. None of their attacks were even hitting each other. They might as well have been throwing sand at each other's shields.
He bursted forward, Zoferós leading the way. He was ready to deal the finishing blow.
The Primordial of the Pit did the same, not even bothering to use his ranged attacks. They were useless.
Fate and time guided him, and he struck first, at Tartarus' throat. The primordial deflected it, not even trying to tank it with his armor.
The god of time and darkness swung sideways, malevolence echoing from the sword at Perseus' torso, but the god blocked with a time shield, not even caring to use a limb there.
Zoferós continued on though, and Perseus redirected it, feinting, before going straight for the throat again. Arcs of golden flamed from the edges as he struck.
And yet, at the same time, the great broadsword of Tartarus crashed through his own defenses.
Zoferós made contact and struck into the neck of the primordial. Still, Perseus felt the broadsword of Tartarus dig into his own flesh, his torso.
His neck was only partially being cut off. The god growled, forcing Zoferós further and further into the neck, trying to cut his head off.
With one hand, he tried to slow the advance of Tartarus' great malevolent broadsword, but it kept going, further, and further. His golden ichor was leaking onto the ground, but so was the primordial of the pit's.
They engaged in a fierce, brutal struggle; he pulled with all of his might, muscles bulging to try and force the glowing Zoferós through Tartarus' iron thick neck, as Tartarus tried to force his broadsword through Perseus' hand.
Tartarus' fierce expression of determination on his face mirrored his own, as they both would not give.
Without enough momentum, Tartarus' broadsword could only slowly chip away at his own torso, even as the god tried to stop the primordial's blade from going through. Perseus' ichor steadily dripped onto the ground.
With another powerful grunt, Zoferós cut into Tartarus' neck even deeper, but it wasn't even half way there. Any god would have passed out from the pain, but Tartarus was one of the most powerful primordials on the primordial council, and his will simply did not give.
Tartarus screamed out in acute anger, reinvigorating himself, as his broadsword dug even deeper into Perseus' flesh.
The god felt nothing, and did not wince, only applying more and more pressure against Tartarus' neck. It gave little by little, and he was almost at the half way point.
The god of darkness could feel Tartarus try to pull back- he wouldn't allow it. The earth wrapped around Tartarus' feet, causing the primordial to have to exert extra energy into trying to leave.
He wasn't going to let him get away so easily.
"Let go!" Tartarus growled, his six monstrous eyes flicking left and right.
Perseus' eyes flamed, golden orbs that reinvigorated his own strength.
"No."
He threw all caution to the wind.
Strands of time were removed from the surrounding areas and fed into his own body, augmenting his power.
He released his hand on Tartarus' broadsword, but, almost immediately, the broadsword had cut almost completely through his body.
Still, Perseus slammed Tartarus in the face with his free hand.
The primordial's head was knocked back, and Perseus pulled. He pulled with the strength of a god, of a primordial, even as he felt himself being bisected in half.
Tartarus slashed through, but so did he.
The Primordial of the Pit's head came off in a spurt of silver ichor.
AN: Surprise! I know right, I'm alive! I didn't have time to write, which is why I was only posting my other story, Never Change. On a side note, I recommend you check that out, even if you aren't a fan of RWBY or don't know it; you might enjoy it! I got into RWBY just by reading a PJO x RWBY fanfiction, so you never know.
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'til next time!
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