What is the Truth?

Alright, so we are back with the story of Perseus Jackson, Assassin extraordinaire and resident identity crisis case. This chapter will be one of the filler chapters between the First Life arc, and the start of canon, in which Percy struggles to make sense of that long, really vivid dream he just had.

And my dad surprised me a few nights ago with the Assassin's Creed movie. All I have to say is fuck the critics. That move rocked, and I didn't think Magneto could pull off being someone who works in the dark to serve the light. I was impressed, brought out my inner fanboy to satisfy my father's questions, and can't wait for a sequel.

Disclaimer: I don't own PJO or AC

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Inspired by historical events and an over-active imagination, this work of fiction was designed, developed, and produced by a single-cultural team of one religious faith and belief, sexual orientation, and gender identity.

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Percy Jackson had never felt right in his body. He couldn't explain it, and he doubted he ever would, but he just didn't feel…right. He felt uncomfortable all the time, he felt strange all the time, and he felt like everything he did wouldn't matter. As if he could launch a nuclear holocaust and the planet would be fried, torched, boiled and incinerated, but all it would amount to in the end is 'eh.'

Strange and dark thoughts indeed.

Then there was his home life, or lack thereof. Percy loved Sally Jackson, dearly, she was his mother for crying out loud, but he always felt…adopted. It was wrong, he knew it was, because there were baby pictures of him, home videos of him, and memories stretching back as far as he could remember of Sally, so he knew that the woman was his mother, but at the same time…he felt like a placeholder for someone else. Like Sally's real child would walk in some day and he would be swept under the rug and forgotten.

Stranger and darker thoughts indeed.

Percy hadn't told anyone about his feelings. Not his mother, not his teachers, not his classmates, and certainly not Smelly Gabe. Instead, Percy mostly kept to himself, not really talking much out of the fear that his fears would come spilling out, and a series of events would take place that would only end in a bad way. Because of this anti-social behavior, Percy didn't really have friends, he wasn't much of a talker, he spent most of his time in doors, out of the sun, and away from others.

This lifestyle had left him thin and wiry, with enough stock on him to not be girlish, but not enough to be masculine, with skin that was tan yet seemed like it was trying to turn pale, a messy mop of hair that breached his eyebrows, threatening to spill over his eyes themselves. Speaking of his eyes, they were big and round, the result of drinking monumental amounts of water every day. While Percy would forever deny looking feminine, and would go to great lengths to prove otherwise (such as break noses), he had been on the receiving end of more than his fair share of jeers from other children.

One particular brute from his youth had made it a point to repeatedly call him 'Prissy' and always use female pronouns to refer to Percy. At least, until the bully got too close one day, and Percy lashed out with all the speed and venom of an angry cobra, and broke the boy's nose like a ceramic pot. While satisfying in the long run, the amount of trouble he had gotten in that day was annoying.

Yes, annoying. Not scary, not heart-pounding, not memorable, not lesson-teaching, but annoying. The principle harping at him, the boy's parents harping at him, his own mother harping at him, the other kids whispering behind his back. All annoying. Didn't they realize that whatever they did was pointless, and they were all nothing but amoebas in the endless universe that continued to function without paying them any heed? Couldn't they see the great tragedy of the human race in that no matter what they accomplished in life, it meant nothing when they died and their bones turned to dust?

These were the strangest and darkest thoughts that floated through young Percy Jackson's head, until today.

Until he had that dream.

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It was nighttime now, nighttime of the same day Percy dreamt of the complete life of Faris Ibn-La'Ahad. Since this was a private school, one by the name of Yancy Academy, that meant that the students got their very own dorms, complete with roommates. Co-ed notwithstanding.

Percy was roomed with Grover Underwood, the acne-ridden cripple with clinginess problems. The boy personal had no real problem with Grover, aside from the fact that the kid talked too much, always wanted to be next to him, and was always asking about Percy's food before he could even take a bite out of it.

While Grover was typically quiet during the curfew hours, electing to study to himself, plug in his earphones, or read something, but tonight he decided to be especially chatty. Especially when Percy needed silence to try and think about why he felt like splitting his head open with a rock.

As Percy desperately tried sifting through the sights of dead bodies, Arabic texts, swaths of men in white hoods, the smells of a pollution-free air, green countryside, crisp mountain winds, the sea breeze, dirty cities, and the sensations of running, climbing, fighting, being stabbed, slashed, and cut, Grover's constant barding of the day's events, from first period to last and everything in between, was both vexatious and infuriating.

And Percy's frustrations overwhelmed him as he rounded on the cripple, eyes blazing with barely contained wrath. "Will you please take your blabbering self away from me, and bother someone else before I murder you?"

Something that Percy had noted since that dream was that his word range and use had increased.

Grover instantly adopted the look of a deer in the headlights, hurt flashing across his face, before he mumbled a quick apology and darted out the room to parts Percy didn't care about. Was that a bit mean? Yeah. Did the thin boy care? Nope.

Percy got up from his bed, and promptly shut the door to his dorm, since Grover had not in his haste. Now blessed with this newfound peace and quiet, Percy returned to comfort of his rather bouncy bed, and sat cross-legged on top of the covers, clad in only his pajama bottoms…which did not help his case of not being feminine as his shirtless torso blatantly displayed his thinness.

Okay, from the top.

Faris Ibn-La'Ahad was a member of the Assassin Brotherhood, an organization of highly skilled killers and infiltrators. He was the younger brother of Altaïr, and the son of Umar and Maud. Faris was smart, strong, faithful, brilliant, and valiant, with a respect for the Creed that few had. While he had been on many missions in which he killed many people, there was one that stood out above the rest.

A mission to the island of Crete, in which there was a Templar by the name of Baron von Wolff that wielded a strange, golden, magical sword, a white centaur by the name of Chiron, and a lengthy explanation on the existence of Greek gods. The mission ended with Faris giving Chiron the magical sword, and revealing the wisdom of the Creed to the centaur.

Then Faris returned to the Holy Land, spent a seriously long time traveling to Masyaf on foot after his horse died in a Templar ambush. After arriving, he was put under some kind of mind control via a glowy silver baseball, and then forced to fight Altaïr in a literal battle to the death. Percy was surprised he didn't wake up crying, because that was one of the saddest things he had ever seen.

Percy accepted Faris' life, the Assassins, and the Templars as fact. Percy did not dispute those things. What his mind began to hurt over was when he denied that the Templar's sword, Chiron the centaur, and the existence of the Greeks. In fact, his head began to hurt so much over this denial, that Percy literally wanted to curl into a small ball and cry his eyes out in agony.

Therefore, the Jackson boy shifted focus away from the events of the past, and moved on to the other thoughts.

Percy had never been to a church. For whatever reason, his mother had just never taken him to one. He had never sat in a pew, never listened to a sermon, and never attended a Sunday school. Hell, he hadn't even peeked inside of a Bible. Hmmm, now that he thought about it, he got the distinct impression that his mother avoided the church and all things related to it.

Now, though, after seeing the life of Faris Ibn-La'Ahad, Percy found that he could quote scripture, recall entire verses, recount entire chapters of the Bible in a summarized form, and remember nearly all of the Book of Proverbs. Beyond that, Percy felt a strong desire to own a Bible, which was strange seeing as how he had never had any desire to get into the faith before.

Percy resolved himself to find a Bible, if only because thinking of having one didn't give him a migraine.

Another thing, silly as it was, was Percy's sudden having of ring fingers. Now, he had had his ring fingers since the day he was born, and had had them ever since, since his mother's fond stories of how he used to gnaw on them when he was teething were not lies. Yet, after waking up from that dream, such digits felt foreign to him, and he wiggled them about, he felt so strange.

Strange as in he needed to get rid of them to be back to a normal state of body.

Which wasn't going to happen. Period.

Thoughts of his fingers lead Percy to recall the Hidden Blades that he had kept on his person at all times for almost ten years. Wait, what? Percy shook his head to derail himself from those thoughts. He was not Faris, and he was not an Assassin. Thoughts like that had plagued him all day.

Anyway, back on the topic of the Hidden Blades. Percy's childishness shown strong and true when this was opinion of the weapons: he thought they were cool. So cool, in fact, that he was very strong in his belief that he was going to make some. The scariest part was that Percy remembered the construction of the Blades, how to care for them, how to repair them, and how to use them.

Considering this was a private school with a fully stocked welding and woodshop class, building those little instruments of death would be easy.

The problem was making them in such a way that did not require his ring fingers to be cut off.

Hmmm, well, considering he had designed, built, and used the very first crossbow ever, Percy felt confident in his abilities to design a new version of the Hidden Blades that wouldn't cut his fingers off upon flicking them open. Wait...uhhhg. He had done it again, he had thought of himself as the crossbow creator, when it was Faris that had made it. Faris. Faris. Faris. Faris. Faris.

He was not Faris.

Denying the Greeks and such made Percy's head hurt, but thinking of himself in Faris' place annoyed him. However, there was something about Faris that made Percy jealous, and that was the Assassin's body...that sounded gay. No, what made Percy green when thinking of the man was his strength, stamina, speed, durability, flexibility, climbing prowess, and fighting prowess.

Percy was built like a stick. His frame was so thin he was made of for looking like a girl. He also was not athletic beyond the average person. His way of thinking about himself being in the wrong skin had led to a life of introversion and nonactiveness, which left him as thin and borderline frail as he was now, and with a stamina that was so low he probably couldn't run up a flight of stairs without dying.

There was a reason Percy always sat alone on the bleachers during gym class.

However, if Percy wanted a body like Faris', there was only one thing he could do.

So, as the Jackson boy hit the floor, and started burning through as many pushups as he could get through before his arms got tired and he moved on to do as many sit ups as he could through before his abs got tired and he moved on to do as many squats as he could get through before his legs got tired and he moved on to something else, he did a quick recap: his head hurt when denying the Greek stuff, he thought of himself as Faris, he wanted a Bible, he was going to visit the welding shop to make a Hidden Blade after he made a non-finger-sensitive design, and he was going to whip himself into such a great shape that people would never mistake him for a girl again.

As Percy's arms began to feel like lead, and doubts of going through with this began to fill his mind, he strengthened his resolve with something he had never used before: prayer.

"God," he panted, "give me strength."

It would be later that he realized he said this in perfect Arabic.

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Percy, days after that fateful dream, was doing something he rarely did: he was skipping class. Now, for someone who had the cynical view that all things done were pointless and meaningless, skipping class shouldn't have made Percy so jittery with those annoying butterflies. Wait, perhaps it wasn't the skipping part that had Percy so nervous, but why he was going to skip class.

He was going for a run.

He had done many squats, pushups, and sit ups, and his body showed it too, with his more defined arms, cut-out abs, and slightly more built legs, but there was a lot more to the art of parkour than having a strong body. One must also have high stamina, and running laps in the gym only did so much.

There was a nearby park that had the most convenient jogging track, which was next to the most convenient construction site. A daunting task, indeed, but Percy was going to try something new today: he was going to try some faith. As one that hadn't been much for religion in the first place, Percy felt that this was a big thing for him, to pray.

To seriously pray.

Percy began his run, weaving through the crowded and bustling streets of New York. No one paid a lick of attention to the kid in the faded jeans, the tattered sneakers, and the white hoodie as he darted through the crowd. This was Manhattan for Christ's sake. Everyone had far more important things to do that worry about a street urchin.

Percy made it the park within ten minutes of running, and when on foot, ten minutes was a long time. He arrived, panting and out of breath, all clear indicators of being supremely out of shape. That was okay though; that was why Percy was here, after all. Sucking in his wind, Percy took off once more, this time with less people to dodge.

Of course, there were still people walking, biking, skating, running, jogging, and taking their pets out, but still not near as many as there were on the streets. So Percy pushed himself, running himself ragged as he did his three laps around the jogging track that was surrounded by nature. Upon the final lap, Percy was more out of breath than when he arrived.

That was okay too, because that was why Percy was here.

Still, panting as he was, the Jackson boy staggered his way over to a bench, and sat upon it to catch his breath. As his heart slowed and his lungs steadied, Percy took the time to watch people, only, he didn't watch them just because he was engaging in people-watching. He was watching them like an Assassin.

He noticed things about them that he wouldn't have noticed before, not before his dream. Like how that woman hid a limp very well. Like how that man frequently snuck glances at other females, namely, the ones in tights. Like how that woman continued to discreetly fidget, wiggling her bottom around in synch with the man pushing a button on some device, a strange smirk on his face. Or how that child over there was sneaking people's wallets out of their pockets, taking a few bills, then putting the wallets back.

All these things and more did Perseus see, and he became so engrossed in his observations that he failed to notice his breathing and heartrate become normal, and he also failed to notice the person sitting next to him on the bench until he turned his head around.

Percy hid his surprise well upon seeing the woman with auburn hair nose-deep in a newspaper, her eyes hidden behind the front page. Percy looked at the displayed text, but his ever-present dyslexia made reading the little black letters impossible, so he gave up on the endeavor. Now realizing that he had recuperated, Percy stood to make his way to the construction area, but he was accosted by the woman.

"Shouldn't you be in school, young man?"

Percy's immediate retort was going to be 'shouldn't you be at work?' or 'none of your business' or 'don't worry about it' but then he stopped. This woman cared enough to stop him from going off, who was to say she wouldn't care enough to call the police and have him arrested for truancy and then hauled back to Yancy Academy, and given detention, ISS, and/or suspended…which would be annoying.

Running off would be stupid, since the woman could still call the police and tell them to be on the lookout for a little boy in jeans and a hoodie playing hooky. Then the words popped into his head, and, with his newfound faith, Percy briefly thanked the Lord.

He turned around and faced the woman with a kind smile. "Yes ma'am. I woke up a little late this morning and missed my bus. I'm on my there now."

The woman, not looking up from her newspaper, hummed. "Shouldn't one of your parents have taken you to school, then?"

"I've never met my father, ma'am, and my mother doesn't have a license. She prefers a taxi."

"And why haven't you taken a taxi to your school?"

"I don't have the money for such a thing, ma'am, and I don't really like taxis. They smell bad, and I'm not comfortable being alone with strangers."

The woman nodded. "I see. I confess that I myself am not a fan of taxis."

Percy half-expected this nosy woman to stand up, grab him by the hand, ask if he needed to go potty real fast, before leading him back to Yancy Academy. However, the woman did not perform such an action, and instead opted for turning the page of her newspaper without a word. Sensing that this conversation was now over, Percy made for the construction site.

But the woman called out to him once more before he could finish taking a single step.

"Yes, ma'am?"

This time, the woman lowered her newspaper, revealing single silver eye that held an unnatural gleam to it, and it made Percy scared. "Be sure you return school now, young man, or you may find yourself waking up…different."

Valiantly trying (and failing) to suppress a shudder at the steely tone and the strange threat, Percy offered a stuttered yes ma'am, before racing back for Yancy Academy at a speed that had eluded him during his travel here.

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Artemis watched her retreating cousin with a critical eye. Of course she knew of Perseus Jackson, son of Poseidon. As the Goddess of Childbirth, she was aware of every demigod birth world-wide, at least, the Greco-Roman ones, and the birthing of a Big Three child was not one that was easy to hide from her divine domain.

While she didn't care much for the boy, not enough to watch him for any length of time, since he was just a half-blood that would live another tragic life, probably bed multiple women, die, may or may not be remembered, and then most likely enjoy eternity in Elysium, there was something…different…about this one. He did not have the happy, easy-going air about him that most sea-children did, but one more befitting that of a Hades-child.

Artemis had actually just been walking through this park and enjoying nature when she felt the little boy's aura pop up in her sensory range, and having nothing better to do, she investigated. What she saw robbed her of her breath, for his face, that soft, near-angelic little face, reminded her far too strongly of a person she had met during the French Revolution, a person that had managed to draw the attention of Zoё Nightshade.

Artemis' first thought was that the Frenchie was going through reincarnation, and Perseus Jackson was one of those incarnations, and it was just coincidental that his face and the Frenchie's face were so similar, but Artemis dashed that thought. Mortals could not reincarnate as demigods.

Bu then again, the Moon Goddess had read the boy's mind. Strangely, much of it was blocked from her, but there was enough open that she gleaned the knowledge that the child intended to climb the nearby construction site to its peak. And so Artemis intervened. While she knew that Perseus would undoubtedly heed her warning and return to Yancy Academy, with his demigod instincts telling him to obey the words of a goddess, she did not know what she would turn him into.

A jackelope was her first thought, then a deer, then a wolf, and even turning him into a girl crossed her mind, but those were simply musing for something that wouldn't ever happen. Then again, who knows? Maybe the boy would do something that would require punishment, or would come seeking something like so many other mortals, or maybe Artemis would transform him into something anyway, just to satisfy her own boredom.

However, there was one thing the Moon Goddess knew for sure…

She could not yet let her Lieutenant and this child meet, for his face would bring about hard questions and bad memories.

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Days began to turn into weeks, and weeks began to turn into months for the unknown demigod. His many nights of many exercises left him in a shape that drew many stares from both genders. The boys stared at him in jealousy for his toned body, and the girls stared at him because they were beginning puberty and their minds and bodies were beginning to take notice of such things like the male physique.

Percy had skipped more classes throughout the semester, building his stamina and running/climbing ability. His efforts bore great fruit, as he could free-run in ways only seen on YouTube videos, video games, and action movies, since his newfound muscular strength could propel forward and up with great prowess. This prowess also showed in gym class when Percy completely aced any and all things the idiot teacher could devise.

Strangely enough, Percy had never gotten in trouble for his absences. Why this was, the boy did not know, but Grover seemed tired, worn out, stressed out, and pale, as if he put himself through great stress for an unknown reason. Speaking of Grover, Percy had apologized for his outburst so long ago, and had made up with the cripple. Grover was visibly relieved.

The relationship between the boys continued as is, with Percy keeping Grover at arm's length, and Grover trying to become better friends with Percy, an act which the boy was not overly fond of. However, there was this one memorable night.

"What are you reading?" asked the cripple.

"Most people call it a Bible."

A minute widening of the eyes, before confusion settled in place. "I thought you were dyslexic?"

"I am."

"Then how-?"

"No idea, honestly. One day I decided to pop this open, and the words didn't bounce around everywhere. Since this is apparently the only book I can read, I figured 'why not read all of it?' and so here I am."

"Oh. Is it any good?"

"It's the Bible, Grover."

"I've never read the Bible…I didn't know you were religious."

"I am now."

Grover paled as if he pooped his pants.

Moving on from that, Percy had completed his new plans for an upgraded Hidden Blade some time ago, and had snuck into Yancy Academy's welding and wood shop departments, and away with the materials and tools that he needed. Admittedly, it was shoddy work, but for what was on hand, Percy thought his new toys were cool. Of course, seeing as how knives and blades were prohibited on campus grounds, Percy was not dumb enough to build his toys to be compatible with actual knives, but instead extended two very sharp No. 2 pencils with a mere flick of the wrist, and retracted with the relaxation of said wrist.

So, to recap, Percy had acquired a Bible, had made his body fit enough to not be mistaken, whether in jest or by honest misunderstanding, for a girl, and had completed construction on his technical Hidden Blades. His head still hurt when he denied the Greek stuff gleaned from the memories of Faris Ibn-La'Ahad, and he still sometimes mistakenly referred to himself as Faris, but other than those two things, Percy felt highly accomplished with himself.

And to test both his newfound faith and his body, the Jackson boy was going through with what he had wanted to do on that day when he met that strange woman: climb the in-construction skyscraper.

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December 21, 2005

Manhattan, New York

Observing the site yielded information that climbing up from the outside would be damn-near impossible, but there was a service elevator. At this time of night, the site was closed and the workers all at home. There wasn't even a skeleton crew present to keep watch and provide security, and avoiding the few present cameras was easy for Percy.

So, a quick elevator ride later, the boy was stepping off and moving the gates out of his way. His heart beat loud in his chest, and his entire body was flooded with adrenaline. If he wanted to turn back, this was the time, but Percy didn't. Instead, he forged on after a brief prayer to the Lord to keep him safe during this trial, and if he should fall, may the end be swift and his reception into the afterlife a pleasant one.

As Percy wound his way through the unfinished corridors and leapt from piece to piece, his main thought was what his mother would think if she knew what he was doing right now.

Percy eventually came across a lowered door, but there was enough room to slide under it. Upon doing so, he almost died, because on the other side of the door was a metal landing that ended with a several hundred foot drop straight to Hell. Taking a few moments to recognize just how dangerous what he was doing is, the risks he was taking, and the amount of laws he was breaking, Percy admired the view.

Looking to his right, he saw a few grab-holds that led to a diagonal incline. Without hesitation, Percy leapt with as much force as his body could produce, and he sailed through the air. Metal met flesh, and the boy grabbed on tight, his feet quickly finding purchase. Shimmying over, Percy hauled himself up the incline, then up into a crane.

Briefly marveling at how much destruction he could cause by turning this baby on, Percy continued his ascension, scaling the crane's massive arm to its top, where a convenient steel beam hung still in the air. Percy jumped, grabbing its edge, and hauling himself on top of it. The beam swayed due to his weight, the cables groaning in protest at his intrusion, so Percy was quick to leap off the hanging beam for one that was bolted into the building's frame.

Lighting on top of it, Percy was once again aware of how high up he was. Swallowing his fear, the boy located the next handhold, one that was several feet away from him, he leapt for it, hands out wide. Once more, the Lord was there for him, because Percy grabbed his lifeline without fail. Seeing a beam below him, Percy swung a bit to gain some momentum, and then leapt off, lighting with perfect balance and agility.

Then Percy casually crossed the 500-hundred foot drop to Death to the other hanging steel beam, scampered across that one, and jumped for the platform bolted into the side of the building. Percy grabbed it, and hauled himself up. He leaned against his jungle gym, taking many deep breaths to calm himself down. That had been scary, very scary.

That had almost been wet-his-pants scary.

Once more swallowing his fear, Percy quickly ascended the outcropping in the skyscraper, where the construction crew was putting in the wiring for some tool or another. Coming to a break, Percy leapt up, and snagged the strut that the wires were bring threaded through, and then slid over to the other strut, before shimmying up a place in the structure where the protective shields broke and allowed for perfect grip.

Then came the tricky part.

Looking above him, Percy saw that a platform was directly above his head, and the only way up was to get on top of it. The problem was that the platform stuck out over the wall, and therefor out over Percy. He would have to jump for it. Too little, and he wouldn't make it, too much, and he could smack his head and knock himself out and fall to his death, do it in the wrong way, and he could just launch himself backwards and die.

Taking a deep breath to calm himself down, Percy got ready. His muscles tensed, his body coiled, and his mind geared itself up. Adrenaline surged through Percy's body, more than what had already been coursing through him, and then he jumped. For a horrifying second, he was weightless, his body angled away from any purchase available.

Then his hands clamped down on metal.

With a heave, his muscles burning from the strain, Percy pulled himself up on solid ground. Technically speaking. Thank you, Jesus Christ, the boy thought to himself. He was surprised his heart hadn't exploded from how fast it was beating. Blowing a heavy amount of air from his lungs, Percy got back to his feet, and continued his way through the construction site.

He couldn't help but marvel how everything in front of was conveniently placed for a free-running course. Eventually, Percy arrived at another area in which the only to go up was to leap out onto a hanging steel beam. Good Lord, this place had a lot of beams just hanging around.

Percy leapt out, grabbed the beam, and hauled himself up, one more marveling at his height above the sprawling city of Manhattan. At night, the skyscrapers were blazing with light, the honking of horns was loud and clear, and the night sky was all but invisible due to the haze of car emissions and light pollution. This city was dirty, and in Percy's dark little mind, needed to be wiped clean off the face of the earth.

Pushing these thoughts aside, Percy jumped from the hanging beam to the one bolted into the building, pulled himself up, and then leapt to platform still higher than he was, and once again hauled himself to his feet. The final stretch, was he on.

Percy quickly scrambled up the piece of equipment in front of him, then jumped to a piece of metal skeleton in front of him, then jumped again to more bones. Taking a breath, Percy coiled himself, then sprang forward with all the power of a lion attacking an elephant. With a resounding clang, his body found purchase on the lit-up crane.

Heart pounding, the boy climbed the crane like a ladder, and came up next to the operator's box. Failing to suppress a grin of exhilaration, Percy stepped onto the latticework of crisscrossing poles that made up the crane's massive arm, and began to casually stroll up into the heavens. When Percy reached the tip of the crane, he threw his hands into the air, and screamed of his triumph.

In the City That Never Sleeps, his victory went unheard.

Percy stood there for a time, basking in his personal glory, admiring the city upon which he stood atop. The moment wore off, and then the glaring issue of downward transportation came into play. However, Percy came prepared. He didn't climb this particular skyscraper because it was just being built.

He climbed it because it was right next to the Hudson River.

Percy had seen Faris perform this act a great many times, and so he himself felt that he had performed this act a great many times. He knew the technique, knew the form, knew what to expect, and knew why this act was called what it was. A Leap of Faith was just that: a leap into certain doom, and faith that you wouldn't die.

With a quick prayer, Percy did just that, he dove straight off the end of the crane, legs held tight, arms splayed wide. As the dirty water rushed up to meet him, the boy heard a sound akin to that of an eagle's cry. Just before splash down, Percy put his arms in front of him into a spear tip, and plunged in.

The boy popped up out of the water, grinning like a fool. He paddled his way to a dock, and climbed out. There was a drunk lounging on a bench that spat out his drink upon seeing Percy emerge from the river. Making his way back to the main city, the boy suddenly realized something:

He wasn't wet.

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Yay, I got this finished!

Alright, so Percy is experiencing his own Bleeding Effect, and is starting to 'synch' with Faris. Now, some of you may be wondering why Percy seems so dark in the beginning. Currently, while changing, Percy realizes on some level that he's not 'real,' and is just a fake soul the Fates made to hold the real Percy's place in the present, and so he's depressed and sees everything as pointless. This view of the world has led to a mature, serious, and darker Percy than canon.

Like all of my stories.

This chapter was the first semester of Percy's sixth grade year, and the next chapter will the rest of the semester. You may have noticed the absence of Mr. Bruner and Ms. Dodds. They come next chapter, along with Percy's Eagle Vision, which will make things fun.

Speaking of fun: Artemis, Percy, Zoё, French Revolution. While it is generally understood that Unity is not the franchise's best game, it does offer a lot in terms of a literary playground of fun. What I mean is the smorgasbord of side missions. Lots and lots of fun.

For those wondering, yes, the skyscraper Percy just climbed is a direct rip-off from ACIII, and no. I don't actually know if there are any skyscrapers being built so close to the Hudson River, and I don't care to find out if there are any. Just accept it as canon content that Percy has the free-climbing ability to scale massive structures of steel and iron, and electrical wire.

Fav, Follow, and Review!