Co-Written by Vanadium Oxide
Beta'd by Praetorfable
The Thirty First of May
Twenty Five Days A.B.M
Protests continue to take place in Western Europe today after the European Union negotiated access to Canadian land to station troops on the former American border. While most Europeans remain skeptical, a recent poll has found that a staggering thirty-seven percent of European citizens are in favor of the internationally denounced terrorist Perseus Jackson.
The European Parliament and security council remain in staunch opposition to the young self proclaimed monarch, citing their duty to honor the North Atlantic Treaty Organization, of which 21 European member states are a part of. At the moment however, the new empire rising from the former United States remains at a tentative peace with the rest of the western world.
More violent protests and riots have taken place in Eastern Europe, where local officials have banned advocating for the capitulation of their states. This is the largest civil conflict in Europe since the Yugoslavian civil war, and citizens of nations across Europe can only wonder about what will become of their continent.
The First of June
Twenty Six Days A.B.M
"For the gods!"
"For the gods!"
Petra Jamilov watched as a wave of bodies charged down the boulevard, gunfire raining upon them. Dozens fell, screams of disbelief amongst them while the asphalt below soaked in the blood of the populace above.
Despite this, the disorganized mob of zealots continued forward toward the haphazard blockade set up by the Azerbaijani State Police. They were worried, yes, but dedicated to display their faith to their new gods.
It had been three days since Baku, the capital of Azerbaijan, had fallen into anarchy. It had begun as a few isolated, deprived believers, congregating at public squares and announcing their loyalty to the occupiers of Manhattan. For weeks, they'd been mocked and ignored; faithless zealots jumping on an illegitimate religion. But after self-proclaimed demigod Perseus Jackson couped the United States, many joined them.
Initially, the Baku police had attempted to use rubber bullets and tear gas to suppress and disperse crowds. But after a single day of insurmountable city-wide riots, orders were brought down for live ammunition.
The death toll was estimated to be in the thousands for yesterday, in Baku alone, as rifle fire from Baku Police and the mobilized Azerbaijani National Guard sprayed into streets filled with protestors. Despite this, the crowds remained, marching toward the capitol, invigorated by the promise of an eternity in Elysium after dying in the name of the Olympians; in the name of Perseus Jackson.
Soldiers soon turned on soldiers, civilians clawing their way onto police to take their rifles, only to turn them onto another enemy.
Sacrifices had been made to get to this point. The population had been cut by 3% in the last few days, a level of death and carnage unseen before in the modern day. Already, she'd lost many she'd known, several friends, an old tutor of hers, and most recently her father to the cause.
It was a test. Fate was testing her resolve. She mustn't back down. They had to prove themselves now.
So today, she joined the crowd in the streets. Lamps, TVs, toasters and other day-to-day appliances were used as makeshift bludgeons, locks in socks were swung hundreds of times, often taking lives. Counter rioters took to the streets, looking to protect the safety of the government they had known for so long.
And yet the Olympian forces outnumbered them still. For every revolutionary that was killed, another took their place, a near infinite mob pushing collectively towards the nation's capitol.
Petra was near the front now. At some point she'd picked up a rifle, where and when she couldn't remember. All she knew was that a man had charged at her moments ago and she'd shot him without even thinking. And she'd do it again.
They were nearing the steps to the capitol now. The government house was a large, daunting building close to the shore of Baku, a sign of strength for most of a century. That ended today.
There was a commotion behind her, and Petra spared a glance to see what was happening. She didn't see anything before she turned back around to continue marching on the Government House, but the people had been startled by something.
Petra paid it no mind; she had thousands behind her, they would take care of whatever the heathens could throw at them now. They were on their last foot, and nothing could save them.
CRACK!
Petra looked up, confused. Something was above her.
Eyes widening, she saw a plane speeding into the distance, the sonic boom it left behind momentarily stunning her.
She shook off her shock and kept moving forward. The people were in the courtyard now. It would only be a moment before the government completely collapsed. Them having planes didn't change that.
CRACK!
CRACK!
CRACK!
Three more planes swept above them, side by side in a tight formation, incredibly low to the ground.
Petra stared at the retreating planes in horror. The last one had been too fast, but with these she could clearly see the flag emblazoned on the underside of their wings.
And then she felt heat.
Today the Russian Federation has moved troops into nearly a dozen nearby countries, all of which are a part of the former Soviet Union. The Russian premier claims that this was requested on behalf of each of the individual governments to help push back pro-Greek revolutionaries, however many of the said states have yet to corroborate this statement.
The international community denounced Russia today after a video of four SU-25 Frogfoot bombers firebombing the streets of Baku was sent to the United Nations. The European Union and the Russian Federation remain staunch opponents, and without the support of the United States, the future of Europe is uncertain.
Muffled footsteps padded through wet grass in the middle of the night, only the silhouettes of about a dozen figures visible in the darkness of night.
"Rook, point." ordered one, and a man moved to the front of their group, leading them closer to the military base they were approaching.
The men were decked out in military fatigues, with assault rifles in each of their hands. Tonight would be the night that they struck back, to begin the rebellion against the tyrant known as Perseus.
They were far from alone. While they were striking at the naval air base at Fort Worth to attempt to gain a chance at air superiority, they had another group assaulting Fort Hood. The Empire's military was not what the US military had been. It was disorganized, new, and left without much of its senior command. Given a few years it would recover; the infrastructure to have the world's more fearsome military was in place. Yet for now, it would take too long to respond to a revolt with everything already going on around the country, and once they were able to mobilize they would be spread too thin to have a hope of taking the base back. Now was their best chance to claim victory against their oppressor.
Almost ten thousand people were assigned to each military base, and still it might not be enough. But their advantage was surprise, as well as the diminished — and oftentimes unloyal personnel. Tonight would be one of their best chances to take the base.
"Hold, hostiles bearing 30." Rook muttered into the radio they were all equipped with.
The squad leader nodded. "Copy. Pick your targets and hold position. One minute until engagement."
They waited as the clock ticked by, giving the hundreds of other squads time to get into position around the military base.
And then the moment came.
"Open fire."
As one the squad opened fire, a dozen rifles firing at once, joined by thousands around the perimeter of the airfield. The night which had been silent mere seconds ago was now filled with thousands of gunshots.
"Rook, take bravo out, leapfrog bound to the gate, time now!" called the squad leader, and moments later half a dozen people were running past him while the other half kept watch.
They advanced steadily through the base, clearing buildings and fighting for their lives. It was hardly easy, but it was normal. It was combat, just like the drills had taught them.
Stack up, clear left, clear right, door front, one on security, stack up, clear left, clear right.
People died, there were casualties, but they were winning. They were pushing the soldiers into their own base.
"Klein, you'll want to hear this." the squad leader looked over to his radioman crouching in a corner, listening intently to his radio.
Intrigued, he walked over. "What is it, Cougar? Something wrong?"
Instead of answering, Cougar shoved the radio into his hands.
Putting it to his ear, Klein listened.
"Negative, Blizzard company is off comms, over."
"Acklay attachment not responding."
"Afirm, reading the same on Avalanche. Break. Belay last, distress signal from Avalanche 1-1. Reporting hostile reinforcements. The third regiment has been beaten back."
Silence reigned over the radio. Their assault on Fort Hood had been defeated less than an hour after it had begun. Things must have gone horribly wrong.
Reinforcements must have arrived at Fort Hood sooner than expected, but that wouldn't change anything. If anything, it meant that they were home free. They had to take the air base, to make sure their deaths meant something.
A new voice spoke up on the radio. "All elements this is Bobcat 1-6, proceed on mission."
Pulling the radio away from his ear, Klein shook off the shock. As he had said before, this changed nothing. It would be harder to earn their freedom, but it was expected that at least one assaulting force would fail. That the Empire had sent their reinforcements to Fort Hood meant that it would be all the easier for the resistance here.
It was only a few minutes later that he was disabused of that notion.
They were in the middle of clearing a large hangar warehouse when the first report came in.
"Sarge, reports of a mascas to the south east requesting support." Cougar reported.
Klein nodded, looking around at the recently cleared warehouse with an F-35 resting inside it.
"Then we'll move to assist, Alpha take point." The sergeant spoke into his radio.
"Wilco."
"Afirm."
His team leaders both responded quickly, and within seconds they were moving.
Klein's squad was perhaps the best in the unofficial regiment. They were all defected military, and had been some of the best infantry when they had been in the service. Most of those helping tonight were either old veterans or civilians who wanted to help in some way, while they were fresh out of the service. They were the cream of the crop, so he had very little doubt they would have much difficulty with what they were about to walk into.
Running up beside him, Cougar shoved the radio in his face. Taking the hint, Klein put the radio phone to his ear.
"This is Bobcat 3-2 to Bobcat 1-Mike, reporting a mass casualty at grid 3576 break 12-" he was cut off, and didn't respond to the radio again.
"Bobcat 3-2, this is Bobcat 3-4, come in, over."
Klein hailed the missing squad twice more before deciding it was a lost cause for now.
Before he could put the radio back, he heard another transmission.
"This is Bobcat 3-1 to all Bobcat elements, reporting mascas, he's here. Say again, he's here!"
Klein stared down at his radio in confusion. "Bobcat 3-1 this is Bobcat 3-4, say again, who's here?"
Klein received silence in response.
Pulling out his squad radio, he spoke into it. "Alpha, Bravo, hold. Pull security on this street, Alpha north Bravo South."
"Copy."
"Check rog."
Klein glanced at Cougar, who shrugged helplessly. Something was taking out their soldiers, and now half his platoon was gone.
Klein didn't need to wait long to find out what it was.
"Sarge, bearing 10, one times hostile. It's him."
Confused, Klein looked up the road to the north, quickly seeing who they were talking about.
It was him.
The man who had no name, the very face of death himself, the hand of Perseus.
The emperor had almost never been seen without his lap dog hovering just behind him, and it had attracted attention. Speculation ran wild about who this mysterious figure in the shadows could be, but those questions were soon answered.
Videos had popped up of riots, revolutions, anything that showed open dissent to the emperor. Whenever they got too out of hand, the boy in black would arrive. He was unkillable, disregarding the laws of life and death one moment and ignoring the laws of space the next.
The emperor's enforcer had arrived.
If Klein and his squad lived past the end of this fight, it would be a first.
"Alpha, Bravo, open fire!"
Hundreds of shots were expelled from the end of a dozen rifles in seconds, but none of them seemed to hit, seemingly melting through his body and out the other side, the only sign the bullets had reached him at all the small shadows appearing all over his body, barely visible to the human eye.
One moment he was in front of them weathering the bullets like a stiff breeze, the next he was behind Clown, his head on the floor.
Slowly hands clawed up from beneath the ground, disembodied corpses pulling themselves through concrete. Klein's eyes widened as hundreds seemed to pull themselves free up and down the road.
Not that the emperor's enforcer would wait on them.
Every second was a swing of his sword, and every swing of the sword was a body hitting the ground. He seemed to grow tired of this eventually and waved his hand. Tupiks and Lee were stabbed through the back of the neck with spears of shadow, instantly killing them.
The enforcer turned his attention towards Klein, and before he could blink, he had a sword through the front of his chest.
It was incredibly cold; that was the first thing that crossed his mind. He figured the pain from being stabbed would have overshadowed that fact, but he was surprised when he found that the biting cold was far more prevalent.
He felt his memories disappearing, being sucked away with every second, his loved ones, his treasured moments, the memories of his baby children, all slipping away from him. Soon the very essence of his being, of his soul was being stripped away. He was no longer a he, he was an it. And then soon, it wasn't even that. It was nothing.
And then it was dead. Prior to his death, he expected to appear at some sort of gate, whether it was the gates to heaven, hell, or even the underworld, like the Greeks claimed.
But it didn't appear anywhere. It didn't have any body, and it couldn't see anything, not even blackness, it simply couldn't perceive the concept of sight. It was surrounded by noise, though. Loud, high pitched noise.
It reached out and made the noise too, the high pitched, tortuous noise.
Another soul was added to Nico di Angelo's collection, another voice joined the screams of the damned.
"What's this?" Percy stared down at the envelope he had been handed, embroidered with some expensive paper and gold linings.
"It appears, your majesty, you've been invited to a summit."
Percy raised an eyebrow, looking over the fancy embroidery. "Is this a summit I need to care about?"
"That would be up to your distinction, your majesty. The summit is of the twenty largest economic powers on earth. Your empire is still yet to be recognized, however the loss of the American consumer base has still thrown the global economy into turmoil. The purpose of the meeting is to agree to trade terms to keep the world economy running."
Percy stared at the envelope. As boring as it was, he had to admit that keeping the economy functioning was in his best interest. America was not self-sufficient, and bad times would come ahead if no nation would trade with the former U. S.
"Thank you Lacey." Percy dismissed.
Bowing, his assistant moved to the side of the room to wait until he needed her for something else. She was like Nico in that way, putting his convenience over her life.
The comparison was not an undeserved one. She was as dedicated to her craft as Nico was, with an almost perpetual perseverance. She was always awake and waiting for him whenever Percy was awake, and always stayed up as late as he did in case he needed something. Considering how little sleep Percy was getting, he wasn't actually sure she slept at all.
It was very tempting at times to have her swear herself to him. Perhaps soon, but he had known the girl for only three days; he wouldn't ask her to essentially give up her entire life for him.
Speaking of Nico, he had been busy recently. Rebellions had, of course, sparked up over the last few days. The military was always sent in to put them down with rubber bullets and teargas, until a soldier was injured. The moment that happened, the kid gloves came off and live rounds followed suit.
Mobs often cleared up soon after that.
If they still refused to clear — if it really felt like their resolve was absolute enough that the army would need to go in with the intent to kill, he let Nico handle it. As far as Percy was aware, no mob had kept fighting when they found the undead outnumbered them ten to one.
It was kind of sickening, honestly, but Percy had neither the resources, time, nor patience to play nice. With the scale and number of the rebellions he was facing, his attention was stretched so thin that he was actually worried about the threat of foreign invasion. As such, he had to put down rebellions immediately and effectively and then move on.
The envelope in his hand, however, gave him a way out of that. If he could reinvigorate the economy and let money flow back through the country it might appease enough people to prevent a handful more uprisings.
Not only that, but the summit could be a good opportunity to at least attempt to persuade world leaders to voluntarily join his cause.
Percy nodded, not even bothering to open the letter. "Tell them I accept. Wherever and whenever it is, I'll be there," he told Lacey. Nodding, she wrote quickly something down on the notepad she constantly carried around with her.
Putting it aside, Percy went back to the papers he had been poring over. He had some translated to ancient Greek so they would be easier to read, but well, ancient Greek translators were a bit sparse these days, so he was mostly stuck with English.
Percy hummed as he looked over the papers. It was still red tape, but at the very least, it was red tape he was interested in. Elections would be taking place soon, and Percy would have far fewer things to deal with as a result. They were marked for the seventh of June; damn quick for an election. Percy was certain things would somehow go wrong, but it was worth it. Once the elections found more people for the administrative work, there'd be less work for him and the current staff. Maybe he would even find someone to take up commander in chief while he was at it. Once that happened, Percy would officially be free of day to day work. With that, he was free to use his resources to be more proactive. Maybe even train, or something along those lines.
There was also the matter of the viceroy being appointed to America, however. Technically it was Percy's sole choice who would become the viceroy — they were appointed by him and him alone — and yet Percy had no desire to place one of his own people in charge.
Maybe it would be prudent to divide the states into different regions. America as a political entity might be too powerful, even within a larger system. Those, however, were problems for another time. For now he would let the nation drive itself as soon as it was able.
Percy put aside the final paper and stretched, letting out a long sigh. He had been sat in his chair for the better part of the morning now, and his instincts were stirring him to get active. Unfortunately today, as most days as of late, he was crammed in meetings until the evening. It was an arduous few days, but it would soon be over. He was the sole governing body in the richest country on earth right now, so it was just a bit hard to manage everything but he managed with the help of the Roman administration. Well, technically his administration now.
Lacey managed the administration so that Percy didn't have to worry about it as much, however she wasn't allowed to authorise things herself. As such, almost everything important enough to get to her went right to Percy. It was not lost on Percy that Lacey had essentially become a replacement for Annabeth, with all of the responsibility and very little of the trust or power.
He didn't like how easy a comparison it was to make, but someone had to fill the role.
Percy stood up. "What's next?" he asked.
"You had a meeting with advisor Allerano which started almost fifteen minutes ago." she informed him.
Percy groaned. Lacey had told him in time, of course. It wasn't her fault. But Percy had been convinced that he could finish up the remaining paperwork in a few minutes and then head over to Reyna. In reality, it had taken about twenty minutes.
"Alright, let's get this over with." he said, turning around and walking straight through the doorway behind him onto a large balcony. The word balcony was a bit misleading, to be truthful. It was closer to a landing pad, in reality. It was used mostly for pegasi, considering Percy's main form of aerial travel, but could be used to land even particularly large helicopters. Of course, it wouldn't land even the smallest plane, but it was rather large all the same.
Walking out, Percy put his fingers to his mouth and whistled, having to wait only a few seconds before Blackjack arrived.
Hey boss, got any doughnuts this time?
"No, Blackjack, I don't have any doughnuts." Percy rolled his eyes as he hopped on his steed, holding out a hand for Lacey. She had become his shadow in the last few days, and he had yet to attend any sort of official meeting without her present. She recorded important information, set schedules and calendars, made agendas based off of what he thought was important, and basically everything else Percy really didn't want to deal with. She was truly a lifesaver.
Percy willed Blackjack into the air and they took off, heading for Reyna's floor on the new military headquarters, which had now been aptly named 'The Spire' due to it being a large, angular and daunting looking tower. Percy was certain that Ares was pleased at the name, as cliche as the god was.
There was a small landing pad on Reyna's floor made just for such an occasion, and Percy used it almost daily. He could demand she come to him — as was pretty much expected — but he was pretty staunch about allowing almost nobody onto his personal floor, and didn't feel like making his friend come all the way to him when he could get to her this easily.
Blackjack set them down on the pavement of the landing pad, where Reyna stood at the entrance to the Spire looking incredibly unimpressed.
"Thanks Blackjack. Smooth as always. I'll have em' give you some apples when you get back. "
No problem boss. Though, could you tell them not to give me the bruised apples this time? I swear, they always cheap out on the apples. You feed all the humans top quality food, and then leave the pegasi out to dry!
Percy chuckled amusedly. "I'll make a note of it, Blackjack."
And there's the grooming too. They're always rough with my hair. It wasn't easy getting a tail this gorgeous, you know! Blackjack complained, swishing around said tail.
Percy shook his head, stepping off of Blackjack and then helping Lacey off.
That little blonde girl is the worst! I swear, if I find who taught them to brush a tail I'll kick em' to Canada! And don't get me started on the mares. I swear, every time they get looser and—
"Alright Blackjack, I think I've heard enough. I'll make sure you're given the premium treatment, we both know you deserve it. But go easy on the kids, eh? They didn't ask for this, and they volunteer to take care of you, so try and make things easy for them."
Blackjack neighed. Alright boss. You're the best. Call me whenever, I love getting out of the stables! Unless I'm with a mare. Then you should definitely leave me alone.
Percy resisted the urge to roll his eyes again. "Alright, goodbye Blackjack. We'll probably need you to take us back in a little, but enjoy the time off for now."
Got it! Later boss! Blackjack leapt into the air, taking flight and disappearing faster than any mortal vehicle.
Percy turned to face Reyna.
"Hey, sorry about being late?"
She just turned around and headed back into the tower; Percy trailing her a moment after.
The silence was only broken once they arrived at Reyna's personal war room. A dozen officers busied themselves around the room, filing paperwork and receiving reports and a bevy of other things Percy paid them so that he didn't have to worry about.
"It's hardly the first time you've been late."
Percy rolled his eyes. "Come on, I was only late one other time, and that was because Angola had assaulted one of our military bases."
Percy could sense Reyna roll her eyes back at him. Together they strode up to a large map of the world with hundreds of red, green, and blue markers on them.
"We've only had these meetings for three days now. The fact that you've been late twice is not something to be proud of." Reyna shot back, pressing a few buttons on the table before them and changing the overlay.
When Ares had said that he'd put all the bells and whistles in he hadn't been kidding. He'd done what he was asked, which was to make a tower with all the latest mortal technology and high end security.
The only 'problem' was that the US didn't have the latest technology. Sure, they had access to it, the US military was the most advanced on the planet. And yet, between pressures for budget cuts, needs for food and supplies for soldiers already in the military, and budgeting for research, the budget to get unnecessary upgrades was not a very high one.
Thankfully for the staff of the Spire, budgeting was not a concern Ares had.
Instead of terminals installed in the early two thousands and kept up to date only when it was needed, every room was equipped with the latest, highest end computers, terminals, monitors, and surveillance. Touch screen maps with dozens of overlays that hooked directly into satellites, incredibly intensive processing power which could be used to simulate incredibly complex scenarios, and enough air gapped and secure storage to hold every piece of information the military had access to three times over.
All in all, it was the height of mortal technology — nothing to a god, but incredibly useful all the same.
"Besides, I told you that I had the situation in Angola well in hand. " she pointed out.
Percy grunted. "Fair enough, but it's still my job to run the military, at least for now. I'm not asking to lead the troops on the front line, but I need to know about what's happening."
Reyna scowled. "Which is why you were supposed to come to me. I can't be your liaison to the military if you just go straight to the joint chiefs."
"I only go to the joint chiefs when something needs my attention immediately. I still go to you for day to day updates — it's why I'm here now!"
"And I'm saying that it didn't need your attention! There was no decision making which you were needed for, just a run of the mill defense operation. I thought you were trying to get away from all the war?"
"I am, but I can't just leave the high command in a precarious position on their own. They're soldiers, and more recently leaders, but they're not supposed to be decision makers."
Reyna pulled up another overlay, one with dozens of dots spread out across the world, with a larger concentration in the middle east and Africa.
"This is a map of every attack on one of our embassies or military bases in the last three days. The fact that you decided you cared about the one in Angola doesn't make it any different. You gave us our standing orders, and we've obeyed them."
Percy crossed his arms. "Fine, whatever, I'm sorry for being late. Are you satisfied?"
"Very," She sent him a brief smile before looking around the room and nudging him, gesturing to the officers who had all stopped what they were doing to kneel towards him.
"You may rise. As you were." he dismissed.
Formality and pomp was something he was still getting used to. At least now they had a single way to greet him, as they had found was most common in ancient Greek tradition. Unfortunately for Percy that meant that everyone kneeled at the sight of him, not rising until he told them they could or until he was out of sight. He had managed to order his royal guard not to, and to only announce his presence with the annoyingly repetitive call of 'hail, your majesty' in public. All in all he had done what he could, but was still stuck suffering at the top of an ivory tower.
The rest of the meeting progressed as normal. Dozens of reports of attacks, sieges and other things being filtered to him if they were considered important enough. Every now and then a nation did something particularly bad; overrunning an embassy and executing the occupants, hanging citizens of the empire, etc. and Percy made sure to send a particularly bad storm their way, as well as maybe a tsunami or two if they were on the coast. It occurred to him that he was killing thousands of people because of something their leaders had done, but who knows, maybe that would encourage them to rise up against said leaders. He had to encourage them to submit to his empire somehow.
Percy was brought out of his musings by Reyna wrapping up her report. "The only thing you need to technically decide on is how to proceed with the conflict in the South China Sea and the Spratlys."
He waved it off. "Pull back. We'll deal with them soon enough and likely have the islands back within the year. It would be stupid not to avoid unnecessary deaths and full out war with China while we're not ready. But you would have known that, why ask me?"
She raised an eyebrow, sending him a glance. "I'm a soldier now, as you said. I don't make the larger decisions, I follow orders."
Percy scowled. "The reason I brought you into my military is because I value your decision making skills and your advice. If I wanted someone who could follow orders that I trusted, Frank or Hazel would have done just fine. I don't need to hear about this stuff because I have you to tell them my answer for me, right?"
"I'm your liaison, not your delegate. My job is to take the information the military gives me and present it to you, and then inform them of any decisions you've made, not to make your decisions for you."
"I trust you more than anyone in the military, gods know you have enough experience to be leading this whole thing, so why not?"
"I'm a teenager. We're talking about war veterans with decades of experience, they wouldn't respect my advice."
"I'm a teenager, Reyna, and I'm the most powerful man on the planet at the moment. They'll listen to you or they'll be gone. In fact," Percy gained a glint in his eye, suddenly getting an idea. "you're getting a promotion. You'll still report directly to me, but you're going to be running my military for me instead of being a glorified messenger."
She shot him an incredulous look. "And what, demote Darlton? He's proven exemplary at his job and I showed up just a few days ago. I refuse."
Officers around the room shot each other nervous looks. Perseus Jackson had walked into the White House, demanded the nation, and then walked out followed by a river of blood when he had been told no. Now, their superior officer had just refused that same man something he wanted.
"No, Reyna. I'm not promoting you to general of the army, I'm promoting you to commander in chief. I don't have a rank for it yet, but I'm sure I can come up with one. Supreme commander of the empire or something like that, to mimic my own rank on Olympus."
"I — but — why not Darlton? I've been watching him, and he's done better than I ever could at managing mortal forces, I'm just—"
"Because I trust you, Reyna. Darlton hasn't let me down so far, but I've known him for a month. He's proven himself time and again, yet haven't you done the same? If you need to, leave the day to day to Darlton. Make up some position under you which has authority over all of the branches of the military; I don't care. I trust you to understand my goals and work towards them."
Reyna just stood there silently. Like him, she had likely been attempting to get used to the scale of what she had gotten herself into, which had been easy enough until now.
She had a few hundred soldiers under her command. She showed up to work in the morning, took reports from her subordinates, and prepared a briefing for her superior. None of this was particularly new. She could handle this.
And yet, in a matter of seconds she had gone from a glorified assistant — an assistant which managed hundreds of officers every day, but still an assistant — to being the commander in chief of the largest military on planet earth.
"If that will be all, Reyna, I'll see you around."
Percy turned around and began walking to the landing pad, Lacey hastily writing down notes behind him, leaving Reyna gaping and everyone else in the room staring at her as if she was the second coming.
He knew what he was doing, that bastard.
His Majesty was currently sitting at his desk, finishing up some paperwork or the other. It was almost five, so he would usually finish up about now unless something major had happened. Afterwards he would go off to do who knows what; Matthew was usually taken off the detail about then so that he could train, rest and be ready for his next shift at five in the morning.
It was a grueling job, being in the royal guard. The shifts were usually about twelve hours at a time, and the rest of the day was spent drilling the same maneuvers over and over and then getting six hours of sleep every night. The royal guard wasn't a job, it was a life.
What was it that His Majesty had said on the day of the fall of Washington? Something like 'You no longer need to fear for your lives, you are already dead'. And wasn't that the truth.
Matt's two friends — Murdock and Muniz — had both died at the assault on the pentagon. Since the fall of Washington he hadn't spoken to his wife Amanda, or his daughter, Gracie. He hadn't had a beer, indulged in one of his hobbies even a single time, or so much as gotten a full night's sleep. Being in the royal guard was demanding, because it would only take the best of the best.
And yet, he didn't regret it. Joining the 'Vanguard' as it had been called back then, despite it's position at the back of every formation, had been the best decision he had ever made. He loved his child, he loved his wife, and yet he had been given the chance to serve a god in the flesh. Billions of people had been born and then died with mundane lives, raising children or marrying, getting a nine to five job, retiring, and then dying a peaceful death.
Some had even led extraordinary lives. Great war heroes or politicians, famous musicians or actors, or an incredibly rich businessman. And yet, what was all that to His Majesty Perseus Jackson?
Nothing.
Entire nations gone with a thought, planes batted out of the sky and warships taken under by the waves by the snap of a finger. Cumulative lifetimes of effort erased with naught but an afterthought, the most powerful nation the planet had ever seen toppled in an afternoon without a scratch on him, a dedicated servant that saw the laws of life and death as a mere suggestion.
He would soon have absolute power over every man, woman, child, creature, and plant on earth. The amount of influence that he could command with a word was staggering, and the amount of good he could do unmatched. He could unilaterally and immediately pass laws that saved millions of lives, or wave his hand and turn a desert into a jungle. He could and would save millions, perhaps billions of lives. What was the value of Matt's life compared to that? Virtually nothing.
Millions of lives lost because he was feeling angry, millions spared because he was feeling generous. Yes, the man he had dedicated his life to serving was certainly a god. He was more important than everyone Matt had ever met in his life put together, and he couldn't imagine serving anyone else.
Matt had been a soldier before the battle of Manhattan. He had been willing to give his life for his country. So when he found a much worthier cause, one where he could actually make a difference, what was stopping him from giving it his all and then some?
By saving His Majesty the trouble of dealing with even a single annoyance he could save thousands of lives. On a whim, his liege could decide an earthquake didn't strike Chile today, or that a monsoon wouldn't kill thousands in Vietnam, and the difference between life or death for millions could be whether or not Perseus Jackson was having a good day.
Matt knew that others had their own reasons for swearing themselves over to him. Religious fanatics, ideological fanatics, those in his cult of personality, those who owed their new emperor everything, and many others. At the end of the day, however, they had exactly one thing in common.
They would throw themselves on a grenade a mile away if it meant that His Majesty didn't have to be annoyed by the sound of it.
Percy strolled into a small coffee shop on 8th avenue, watching silently as his royal guards cleared the building of customers, searching every nook and crevice of the cafe for anything that could harm him.
Percy looked around until he found what he was looking for, walking over to a booth and sitting down.
"Hey Sadie," he shot her a smile, "What's up?"
She scowled, a sour expression gleaning in the direction of his entourage. "Could have been a bit more subtle."
Percy raised an eyebrow. "How exactly do you want me to be more subtle? Do you think there's someone on planet earth that wouldn't recognize me by now, much less in downtown Manhattan?"
She frowned slightly. "You could have relaxed on the security a bit."
He shrugged. "Last time I eased up on security it didn't go so well."
Sadie winced, and they devolved into an awkward silence after that, only broken by the barista, who had come to their table to take their order.
"Your majesty, may I get you something to drink?"
Percy looked over at the barista. She was relatively young; older than Percy still by a few years, but young nonetheless. She had brown hair and was wearing a wrinkled black uniform with the words 'Think Coffee' embroidered into it. All in all, she was incredibly average.
Though Percy had to commend her, she didn't stutter or kowtow more than necessary when asking for his order. He didn't mistake that for being calm, however. Her heart was beating far too rapidly for that.
He glanced at Sadie. "I'm not really a coffee person and I haven't been here before. What did you get, Sadie?"
Said girl looked down at her cup. "Just an Americano espresso."
Percy shrugged, before mustering a smile for the barista. "I'll take one of those, then."
Bowing, she hurriedly went off to make his drink, two of his royal guards watching closely over her shoulder.
"So, why are we here? Not that I don't enjoy the time to talk with a friend, but it seems a bit rushed."
Sadie played with her espresso, a small frown on her face. "I came to warn you. The other pantheons are gathering to unite against you. Every pantheon that's been heard from in the last thousand years with the exception of the Gaelics has agreed. Nobody seems to agree on anything other than that you need to be stopped. The only other thing to note is that there's talk of revealing ourselves for some equal power."
Percy sat back, considering her words. This was an actual threat. Not some mortal acting high and mighty that he could erase with a swipe of his hand, but an actual magical threat. Something that could end everything he'd done so far, and do far worse.
"How soon?"
"As I said before the pantheons can't seem to agree on almost anything. It'll be a while before we move, and I'll try to delay it as much as I can, but in the end, we will move."
Percy let their conversation slip into silence for a moment.
"Why are you telling me this?"
"Because as fucked up as it is that you're doing what you're doing, the only way out now is forward. If the combined pantheons get so much as a foothold then the resulting war will make a nuclear apocalypse look like a water balloon fight."
"I'm well aware of that. So you want me to… what? Kill everyone before they can do anything?"
"What!? No!"
Sadie made to slap his shoulder, but a hand was gripping her wrist before she could, half a dozen spears at her throat.
Percy grunted, annoyed. At his guards or himself he wasn't sure. "Sadie is a friend. If she wants to hit me, I probably deserve it. Let her go," he ordered, and as one the spears instantly retracted, Sadie's wrist freed.
Sadie rubbed her wrist, glaring at the guard who had grabbed it. "They're lucky that they belong to you, because otherwise they'd be painting the walls."
Percy sighed, tapping the table. "Sorry about that, they're a bit overzealous, but it's how they're trained. Anyway, if you don't want everyone dead, what do you want me to do?"
Sadie looked at him like he was crazy. "Storm the place? Take prisoners? Lock the gods away? Figure something out that doesn't involve death?!"
Percy laughed nervously and rubbed his head as the barista came and sat down his order.
"Right, yeah. Sorry, I just kind of got used to doing things the efficient way," he apologized.
Sadie rolled her eyes as Percy took a sip of his steaming hot coffee, subconsciously cooling it to the ideal temperature.
"You mean the cruel way. Evil way. Whatever. It's why bad guys are the bad guys and the good guys are the good guys. The good guys try to get things done without killing everyone."
Percy narrowed his eyes. "This is real life, not a fairytale. People die. And if a few gods dying saves the lives of millions then that's a call I'm going to have to make."
"Then why not let the Greek gods die to save millions?" Sadie asked.
"Because that wasn't my choice! I didn't have the power to stop them! If I refused, they'd toss me aside like a broken toy and go to Jason, or Reyna, or Annabeth, and then I'd inevitably get drawn into it anyway, and I'd have damned them to a worse fate than death."
Sadie pulled back and her eyebrows furrowed. She gave him a concerned look, pausing for a moment. That he was on top of the world and yet considered his fate worse than death was telling. Doubtless billions of people envied the man sitting across from her, and he wanted nothing other than to be done with it all.
Reaching across the table, she laid a hand on his forearm. "Do you really despise what you're doing that much?"
Percy remained silent, staring down into his espresso.
"Percy, I'm not exactly the emotional support type, and I don't think you are either, but… I'm your friend. And that won't change." she promised.
Percy didn't meet her eyes, he couldn't. "You're not the first person who's said that, and you wouldn't be the first person to be wrong about it either."
Sadie shook her head fervently. "No. I can tell that you're stuck in a tough position, but I want you to know that I won't leave you. We might not have known each other that well, but we're still friends, and I think that after talking with you that night you came over, I really do understand you. And now Carter and I are fighting more, and… I won't lose you, Percy."
"Why?"
"Why?" Sadie echoed.
"Why wouldn't you leave? Why have you decided that you're not going to leave me, no matter what, after all that I've done is kill millions of people and threaten your family? I mean I've been told I'm charismatic, but what the fuck. I've convinced so many people to die for me, people I knew, people that were my friends, that I've lost count. I've convinced hundreds of people I don't know to sign their lives away to me after a few days of so much as knowing I exist and thousands to die in my name, and now you decide that you're never going to leave me. So that's what I want to know. Why? What in Zeus's name makes you want to give me your loyalty?" Percy was standing now, looking down at Sadie. His guards had ushered the barista out of the cafe after he had gotten his order and Percy was glad that they had taken the precaution. Nobody but Sadie needed to hear this.
Sadie pursed her lips.
"I —" she paused, taking a long moment to consider her next words. Percy waited through the long seconds of silence patiently. She finally looked back up at him.
"It's because I believe that you're genuinely a good person. That's something I know about you, Percy. You do what you think is best, and if you know what you're doing is bad, you don't pretend to justify it. You take every burden that is laid upon you. I know you. I know that you're genuine. I know that despite how much you want to leave it all behind, you can't help but take all the responsibilities of the world and bear them yourself.
"You don't make excuses. When you fail, you want everyone to hate you. You think that everyone should hate you, but time and time again you are rewarded with everything. Everything, except what matters to you, the safety of the ones you love. I can't help it Percy, I see what's happening. Almost anyone on earth would consider your position of unmatched power a fantasy, but you're living in your own personal hell."
Percy stared at her, expression blank. If this was aTV show, his jaw would be on the floor, but as it was he stared at her, bewildered. But she didn't stop.
"And honestly, I'm as confused as you are. It's kind of scary — how quickly I decided on this. I just… I just can't see you like that. I can't leave you alone, where you've put yourself. I know you and Annabeth were great people, Percy. I can't leave you alone, now that Annabeth is gone. Even now, you don't want my help; you think you're undeserving. Everyone makes mistakes Percy. Gods, not everyone is in the same position as you but they're still mistakes. I know you're trying your best to shield everyone and rectify things but it doesn't mean you have to do it alone!"
"But I'm not a good person!" he protested. "I don't even know what I am anymore. I've let my anger get the better of me to cause thousands of deaths, I've turned the free world into an autocratic hellscape, and I've ordered thousands to die in my name without a second thought. I wouldn't follow myself!"
Sadie gave an uncharacteristic giggle, standing up and hugging him, reaching upwards so that she could wrap her arms around his neck. "Well then it's a good thing you don't get to decide. I have faith in your conscience, Percy, even if you don't. That you hate yourself for what you've done alone is proof of that. It doesn't make up for it, it doesn't make what you did any better, but it does mean you're a good person."
Percy slowly wrapped his arms around her, his armor slightly digging into her torso uncomfortably.
"Accept my help. If not for your sake, then for Annabeth's — for everyone else's along the way." Sadie whispered, before sighing and separating from him. "It was good talking to you Percy. I'll send you the location of the next meeting. I trust you to deal with things as peacefully as possible." She said, tightening in for a second hug, before leaving.
Percy turned to watch her go. He had a lot to think about, but that would come later, for now he had a titaness to find.
Percy sat in his bedroom silently, attempting to fall into a form of a pseudo meditation.
It was the first time he had trained without Nico in a long time, but Nico had many, many responsibilities, and ironically Percy was the one with more free time now. 'Free time' being a loose usage of the word, considering that the time he didn't spend receiving reports and signing documents he spent fixing problems around the empire. It was absurd how much good you could do when you were powerful enough to sink the planet.
A large section of Kansas was having trouble growing crops because of a drought? Well, that would hurt the economy and Percy preferred that that didn't happen, so with a thought a thunderstorm formed in the gulf of Mexico before releasing it's waters over the dust bowl.
There were dozens of economic, legal, and other problems which would end up solving themselves, but would usually turn out better with a personal touch from Percy. Other than that he kept an almost perpetual eye on the news, the stock market, and any reports he got. It was boring work, but it was what was expected. Now, though, he took a moment to train for the first time in days.
There were quite a few things to learn. Zeus had taught him about the divine energies in the air, so could he actually project his own presence like the gods? Whether or not he could, he certainly intended to find out. Learning more about the divine energy the gods used to keep an eye on people might allow Percy to detect specific people as well, even if he didn't actually project his sight or consciousness anywhere. It could even let him find magical areas, mythical beings hiding in plain sight, and basically everything mythological that he could think of.
It was the last ability that he was working on now. He had decided that he wanted to go ahead and save Calypso. He could figure out his feelings for her eventually, but he knew that he owed it to her to get her out of there.
So he sat training silently in his room for hours, trying all sorts of tricks and methods to just sense what was right there in front of him. About a half hour in he had discovered how to project his consciousness a few feet ahead of himself; essentially he could look into the hallway while he was in a room. Considering he could already feel the blood in everyone's body, it wasn't entirely useful. That being said, if he worked harder to project it further on later, it would be incredibly useful.
But it wasn't what he was after. It took many hours, trying to whittle down what made something magic little by little. Differentiating between types of monsters, titans and gods — much less specific titans or gods — or an entrance to the underworld and the entrance to Olympus was like trying to tell the difference between freshwater and saltwater by sticking a finger in it. It wasn't impossible, just… incredibly tedious.
But he had spent the better part of his day attempting to figure out the difference, and was confident enough that he could tell the difference between the enchantments on something like Delos, and those on the Labyrinth. Now, came the hard part.
Percy spent the rest of that night combing the ocean. He didn't have infinite focus, and the ocean is a very big place. He sent out his senses across ocean after ocean and sea after sea.
First the Mediterranean, then the Black Sea, then the Red Sea, and then within a few hours he was on to the Atlantic.
It was a long, arduous process that took him until nine the next morning, but eventually, he found… something. Something in the middle of the Pacific which was so enchanted it was almost not there. It seemed disconnected from the time and space of earth, flickering in and out of existence on a whim, and seeming almost unenterable through conventional means.
Good thing Percy wasn't conventional.
Leaping off of his bed, Percy stormed out of his room onto the balcony attached to his room.
He whistled as loudly as he could, waiting impatiently for a few minutes as Blackjack came to give him a ride, even so early in the morning.
Gods, he loved that horse.
As Blackjack flew below the balcony Percy leapt off, landing directly on his back with a thud.
Where are we going so early in the morning boss?
"San Francisco. I'll direct you from there." Percy told him, offering no more elaboration.
Frisco? You don't expect me to do that for free, do you?
Percy chuckled. "I'll get you some sugar cubes." he promised, ignoring the subsequent cheering noises the Pegasus made.
Percy leaned back and got settled in. Even with a Pegasus and their magical travel flying across a continent and then partway across the largest ocean on the planet was no quick ride, so he prepared to sit here for a while. He might also have to stay a night in New Rome because of how tired Blackjack would inevitably get, or at least get Nico to shadow travel them back.
Percy had a long time to reflect on the way. He had no phone, no book (not that it would be very useful with his dyslexia) and nothing else to keep him occupied for the half hour he'd be sitting on his steed's back. And he definitely didn't have the energy to engage in another round of Blackjack's complaints on the recent quality of Apples.
So he remained silent staring out on the land as they flew over; his thoughts focused around Calypso. He was going to free her. Right an old wrong, now that he had the power to. But what would he do once he got there?
He knew he loved Annabeth; that could never be changed. Nothing would change that until his soul ceased to exist. And yet, if he tried to find someone else, did that make his love for her any less? Widows and widowers remarried all the time, it didn't mean they didn't love their first spouse. Percy himself had loved more than one person in his life. He knew he loved Annabeth, he knew he would come to love Calypso, should he have stayed, and he knew that he could have loved Rachel, had she chosen a different path.
And yet he was still moving on incredibly quickly. Annabeth had passed less than a week ago, and she was fresh in his mind. To go immediately to Calypso to seek solace with her would feel like he was forgetting Annabeth, moving on like she was some fling. Apollo's words came back to him, and his hands tightened on Blackjack's reigns.
But was that all that was stopping him? That it felt like he was moving on too quickly, that it looked like he didn't love her? Because he knew the truth, even if nobody else did. He had loved her with all of his heart and would continue to do so. But he was just seventeen. He had been playing this game of ruling for less than a month and he was perpetually sick of it, on the edge of just quitting. Without someone to love, without someone to do all of this for, would he make it past his eighteenth birthday before leaving earth to it's fate? Or would Calypso help him decide to leave it all behind, to take the easy way out.
It all came back to that. It always came back to that same gods damned argument which had ruled his life for months. He needed to decide, even if it was a decision he would come to regret, he needed to make that decision, for his sake and the worlds. What had Chiron told him? 'The worst decision is indecision'?
He needed to be decisive, to figure out what he actually wanted and take it, damn anyone in the way, even if it was himself. What he wanted to do with this empire, he had no idea, he would figure it out. He would do what he wanted, because who was anyone else to say otherwise.
But he did know one thing as the sight of a shimmering island came into view. He wanted to be loved. He wanted to be held again, to hold someone, to feel them under him and know that he wasn't alone. So he would rescue Calypso, and he would ride with her back to New York, and he would give into his love for her, and he would make her the gods damned empress of the world. He deserved to be happy, and he wanted to be selfish, so he would walk onto Ogygia, and leave with Calypso in his arms, damn whatever the gods had to say. He would finally allow himself the chance to be happy, and he felt a smile form on his face, his elation growing at the thought of seeing Calypso after so long.
Percy urged Blackjack down towards the mirage, reaching out and shattering the enchantment around it. Hera hadn't been kidding around when she had made the enchantment, but the Hera of ancient Greece was a child compared to the Percy of today.
Blackjack's hoofs set down on the sand of the beach in front of Calypso's cave with a soft crunch. Percy slid off of Blackjack and set his feet on the sand of an empty island.
Next Chapter Spooky Day (October 31)
Here's a link to a discord me and some other readers are in if you wanna come talk, my channel's towards the bottom.
discord .gg/QUydXb7
