What is it to Transcend?
Started on March 28th.
It i's really heartwarming as an author to see that his readers love something that he puts into his stories. Everyone's happy with Eagle Vision seeing through the Mist, everyone's generally happy with me bringing God into the story, and everyone's happy with Percy experiencing the Bleeding Effect.
Praise the Lord.
Alright, this is the final 'filler' chapter. I say it's filler because we're not starting the Second Life arc, but we are starting canon. As in the field trip, Alecto, end of the school year, Gabe, Minotaur, Camp etc. So without further ado, let us now dive head first into the glorious world of Assassin's Creed: Transcendence.
Disclaimer: I don't own PJO or AC
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May 7, 2006
Metropolitan Museum of Art
Manhattan, New York
The past few months had been simple for Percy. Push ups, sit ups, squats, ditching Dodds' class for an afternoon run through the city, climb the occasional building (he hadn't visited a skyscraper since December), practice with his water powers, read his Bible, pray, deal with the sheep that were his 'classmates,' continue to give Dodds a feeling of impending death anytime he was actually in her class, and about every other night or so, break into the gym for combat with Templar apparitions.
That was probably the favorite of Percy's secret activities.
The boy had kept himself in the shadows, just as he intended. He did not approach Chiron beyond Latin class, he never called Grover out on his goat legs, and he made sure that Ms. Dodds knew that he did not like her, and that he would not be putting up with her bullshit. Praise the Lord that the old bat was smart enough to never call on him to answer any questions.
On this day, Yancey Academy saw fit to send Brunner's Latin class on a field trip to a museum to soak up the rich culture of the Greco-Roman age. With Ms. Dodds along for chaperoning purposes. So that meant that 28 children and two teachers were all crammed into a single bus...that lacked seatbelts.
Seatbelts were important until you put 30 kids into one vehicle.
The bus ride was deathly silent, mostly because Percy Jackson and Mrs. Dodds were within 45 feet of one another. The first day back from break was a day of infamy for the whole of Yancy Academy, because it was the day in which a student completely decimated a teacher. To this day, everyone knew of the feud between the Loner and the Math Teacher, and it was quiet on the bus because of the fear that a single utterance would start a war.
Such was the power of Perseus Jackson.
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The class was in the museum now, and Mr. Brunner was lecturing upon the great specifics of a burial stele for a dead girl. Percy's eyes were on constant dart mode, Eagle Vision active as he searched for any other unsavory creatures/characters that sought to hide in the crowd. He saw none, besides the Fury.
The class moved on, and as Percy began to pay attention to something that Chiron was saying, a delinquent in the back with red hair decided show her vast immaturity by snickering aloud at a naked statue of Poseidon. Percy turned to her, and his eyes conveyed more than words ever could. Nancy Bobofit promptly shut up.
Of course, this act caught the attention of Ms. Dodds, but Percy's eyes turned glacial when he looked at her. The Fury was quick to look away. Further of course, Chiron saw this act, and he chose to turn Percy's attention away from threatening people with his eyes, to answering questions.
"Mr. Jackson, perhaps you tell me what this picture represents?"
Slowly shifting his freezing gaze away from the Fury, Percy looked at the picture in question, and cocked a brow. "That would be Kronos devouring his children."
"Correct. Can you tell us why?"
"Fear. Paranoia. Stupidity. Prophecy from his own father. After castrating and overthrowing Ouranos, the primordial warned his traitorous son that his offspring would overthrow him in time, so when Rhea gave birth to Hestia, Demeter, Hera, Hades, and eventually Poseidon, Kronos gave into the fear that stemmed from Ouranos' prophecy, and ate them all."
Brunner blinked. Grover blinked. Dodds blinked. The class was just staring, not entirely sure of what to make of what they just heard.
"Um...excellent job, Mr. Jackson. Do you know the rest of the story?"
Percy nodded shortly.
"Horrified and revolted, Rhea, pregnant with Zeus, decided to escape. Upon his birth, the Titan Queen gave her husband a rock in Zeus' place, and Kronos displayed his supreme stupidity by eating said rock and knowing any difference between it and a body. Hiding him away, Zeus grew up in secret, and when he came of age, he went to the Titans, disguised, and managed to feed Kronos a mixture of mustard and wine, which caused him to vomit out the future Olympians. A war ensued, and the gods won."
Brunner beamed. "Well done, Mr. Jackson, well done! On that happy note, let's head out for lunch. Mrs. Dodds, if you please."
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Percy did not know what gave Nancy the courage to do what she did, but it did not matter. The redhead got it in her head to throw some of her sandwich at Grover. Only, Grover had terrible timing, and leaned down to take a bite of his apple, removing his head from the projectile's path, which made Percy next in line.
Typically, his reflexes would've been just fine in saving him from getting hit with peanut butter and ketchup, but the timing between Grover and the sandwich was inexplicably well-timed, and the boy got dinged square in the face. Those who were watching barely had time to register the amount of fuck-up in the air, before Nancy Bobofit was suddenly swimming in a nearby fountain.
With a look of the utmost displeasure and contempt, Percy cleaned his face off with napkin provided by Grover. When he opened his eyes again, he found none other than Ms. Dodds standing before him, wearing what seemed to be a brave mask. One that had many cracks. Still, there was a strange light in her eyes.
A light that seemed all the more intense due to the brewing storm above.
"Now, honey-"
"Save it for someone who cares."
The Fury recoiled, while the eavesdropping sheep gasped at the blatant disrespect. The demon recovered, and she said, "Come with me." She turned her back clearly expectant of him to follow without question. For his own reasons, Percy did so.
As the pair re-entered the museum, the demigod allowed a quick glance at the centaur. He was nose-deep in a book...but his eyes did not move. Instead, they were glued to a single spot in his book, and Percy knew then that Chiron was watching these proceedings with a critical eye, even he was not looking directly at the world around him.
Percy followed the Fury into the museum, his Eagle Vision active. The creature in front of him was just as ruby and bat-like as it always was. At this moment, the reincarnate Assassin was more aware if the pressures around his wrists than he usually was. His Hidden Blades felt warm against his arms, and Percy was resisting the urge to take this demon out now.
However, there many people around, many innocents. Percy would stay true to the Creed in not drawing attention to himself and protecting those who need not die. However, make no mistake, when the opportunity presented itself, Percy was going to stab this heathen, and whether pencils were capable of killing Greek monsters or not was irrelevant until it became relevant. Percy had faith that graphite would suffice.
Dodds entered the Greco-Roman gallery, which was mysteriously empty, and Percy prayed. It was a simple prayer, one that was not long or complex, but one that was straight forward, to the point, concise, clear, and not at all confusing in the message it conveyed.
'Please these pencils do the job, and forgive for the taking of this creature's life. Amen.'
"Now, honey," Ms. Dodds turned around, and received two No.2 pencils straight to the brain via the eye socket. Sharpened to perfection, writing utensils can be very dangerous. Now, the Fury did not, unfortunately, explode into golden dust, not that Percy knew monsters were supposed to do something like that, but she did let out an unholy shriek at being impaled.
Growling, Percy ripped out his pencils, the wood stained with red, and rolled backwards. The Fury wailed and screamed, flailing about with her hands over her eyes, blood squirting and spraying about without end.
"My eyes! My eyes! I can't see!" wailed the heathen. Behind it, a marble frieze of the Greek deities stared dispassionately at the Fury.
Percy stared at this poor creature with pity. He had no love for it, but nor did he wish for her to undergo such suffering. He had aimed for the eyes so that the brain would be damaged, killing the creature instantly. Instead, what he got was a soul in agony. With a growling sigh, Percy sped forward, tackled the Fury to the ground, and instantly had his hands on either side of her head.
SCRUNCH
Now with a broken neck, the Fury melted into golden dust, dust that somehow managed to dissipate into oblivion. Percy looked at the dust with an expressionless look. This was how Faris had always looked at a target if he ever had the time. Percy experienced what he was supposed to experience in light of this circumstance.
Guilt, remorse, uncertainty, doubt. The feelings that separated men from monsters. The feelings that made one human. Killing was not an act to be enjoyed, nor was it an act to be met with apathy. It was an abominable act, for anything, any human, any man. Even the bad ones.
Strange though you may call him, Percy did feel a measure of sadness for the those like Hitler, Stalin, Hussein, Bin Laden etc. Men who were corrupted by Satan and now burned or will burn for their deeds. Percy prayed for them, just as he prayed for all in this world. Gays, lesbians, blacks, whites, Latinos, Asians, prisoners, criminals, everyone.
Percy did not discriminate in who he prayed for.
Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, the demigod rose to his feet, heart hardened and resolve strengthened. He had been here long enough. Percy turned around, walked out of the Greco-Roman exhibit, and made his way for the front door. Before he reached the exit, he felt it. A strange breeze, a warm breath that passed over, around, and through him.
Blinking at the strange feeling, and narrowing his eyes at would it could mean (a whole wide range of possibilities), Percy exited the museum. It was drizzling a bit. The boy noticed Grover by the fountain, using a map as an umbrella.
Nancy Bobofit was waiting for him at the base of the steps. She saw him, and exclaimed, "I hope Ms. Kerr whipped your butt!"
Without breaking stride down the stairs to Grover, Percy merely gave the redheaded klepto a sideways glance, uttering a simple "Mm-hm" before passing her like garbage on the street. Percy next to his dormmate. "Where's Dodds?"
The cripple flinched, shuddering. "Who? Never mind. Here," Grover offered some of his map to the Assassin. "You'll get sick if you just stand there."
"Grover," Percy said patiently, "I'm not even getting wet."
Instead of refuting this, the acne-ridden satyr just paled.
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On the bus ride back to Yancy, the drizzle evolved into a full-blown thunderstorm. On the bus ride back to Yancy, Percy had his Eagle Vision active for no other purpose than he wanted it active. On the bus ride back to Yancy, Percy saw the Empire State Building, and the gigantic white-glowing mountain floating above it.
In an unrelated matter, Ms. Kerr was a perky blonde woman from Alabama. She was not a monster.
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Once again, time began to blur together for Percy until it was finals week. Nothing exciting happened in this time between early May to its waning days. Although everyone was convinced that Ms. Kerr had been here since day one, but Percy couldn't have cared less. Classes, exercise, Bible, running, climbing, water powers, the usual. Now, most kids would be freaking out over finals, going themselves on caffeine and staying up late in the night to study material that they simply forgot come morning.
Not Percy. He did not care for these pointless exams, he did not care for this pointless institution, and he cared even less for the blind sheep that aimlessly wandered the halls. Funny thing was, he wasn't even going to be coming back next year. Mr. Bennet the history teacher managed to push a button—don't ask which one because Percy wasn't going to tell you—and the Assassin completely destroyed the man's life with extreme psychoanalysis, Sherlock Holmes-level observation about every minute detail, and a few choice curses in Arabic.
Bennet fled the Academy in tears, and returned two days later a shaky, blubbering, incoherent mess.
After his temper had cooled, Percy attempted to apologize and make honest amends; the teacher scrambled away every time he saw the boy approach.
Currently, we find our somewhat-antihero studying for his Latin exam, the only class he cared for if only because he was highly interested in Greco-Roman mythology, and because he had a measure of respect for Chiron the centaur teacher of old. While Percy did know a great deal of Greek mythology, he was humble enough to freely admit that there were a great many things he did not know, which was why he was studying.
The problem was that his dyslexia decided to make it to where the letters upon the page seemed to be doing the "Cha-Cha Slide." Percy could practically hear the lyrics in his head as the letters and words shifted.
Sliiiiiiide to the left!
Sliiiiiiide to the right!
Criss-cross!
Criss-cross!
"Cha cha real smooth…" Percy muttered, then he paused. He vigorously shook his head at his own thought process, before deciding that this was not getting him anywhere. Putting on a shirt, Percy entered the silent halls of Yancy Academy, and wound his way to the faculty offices. All of them were dark, of course, except for, luckily, Mr. Brunner's.
Only the man was not alone, for Percy's advanced hearing detected the voice of Grover. Huh, and here the demigod thought the cripple was taking an extended shower.
"I'm worried about Percy, sir." Cocking a brow, the Assassin crept to the door, coming to stand right next to it, away from the light. Grover continued speaking. "I don't think he'll be safe alone this summer. I mean, a Kindly One in the school! Now that we know for sure, and they know too-"
"We would only make matters worse by rushing him," Mr. Brunner said. "We need the boy to mature more."
"But he may not have time. The summer solstice deadline-"
"Will have to be resolved without him, Grover. Let him enjoy his ignorance while he still can."
"Sir, he saw her..."
"His imagination," Mr. Brunner insisted. "The Mist over the students and staff will be enough to convince him of that."
"Sir, I ... I can't fail in my duties again." Grover's voice was choked with emotion. "You know what that would mean."
"You haven't failed, Grover," Mr. Brunner said kindly. "I should have seen her for what she was. Now let's just worry about keeping Percy alive until next fall."
It was sorely tempting to calmly push away the door, revealing himself to be standing there inspecting his nails and be like 'well hello there, fine gentlemen, I believe you owe me some answers,' but Percy was rather conservative at heart, and Malik's words from literally 800 years ago played in his mind.
"Discretion, Altaїr!"
Yes, discretion. Percy liked being sneaky and silent. There was a certain measure of power that came with knowing things others did not. In this instance, knowing that Brunner was Chiron and Grover was a satyr while they did not know he was Faris Ibn-La'Ahad. Sensing that this conversation was over, Percy silently darted back to his dorm, abandoning his earlier mission of tutoring for a pondering of what he had just heard.
Flopping onto his bed, Percy quickly retrieved a notebook and a pen from his bag at the foot of his resting area, and went to work. Unconsciously, his legs curled up at ninety degree angles and crossed at the ankle in a feminine kind of way that Percy would forever deny to do doing.
Flipping open his notebook, he immediately began to write down what he knew.
Brunner=Chiron.
Grover=satyr.
Olympus=above ESB.
Kindly One=Dodds.
Summer solstice deadline=?
Mist=?
Grover 'failing again'=?
Okay...Grover's saying of 'failing again' meant that he had done something before, and, factoring in how he had made a supreme effort to befriend Percy and only Percy, that 'something' most likely involved being friends with someone, but, seeing as how the centaur was in on this, whatever Grover was doing was bigger than simple friendship.
What could it be…?
Then there was the 'mist.' The way Chiron said it implied it was a proper noun, and what he said about implied it was some kind of mind-control type thing. Now, factoring in how after he felt that strange breeze back at the museum after he killed Dodds everyone was suddenly spouting nonsense about 'Ms. Kerr,' this mist was most likely indeed some kind of mind-control/hallucinogen/magical Greek thing that could alter minds.
That was all just a theory, of course.
Now, 'Kindly One.' Percy remembered this story: the Furies were Hades' top servants, and people going to the Underworld would often try to get on their good side, butter them up, suck up to them, brown nose them, etc., in order to get a lenient punishment for their misdeeds in life. Hence, calling the Furies 'Kindly Ones.'
Those were Percy's main theories for the easy parts. Now there was the matter of this summer solstice deadline. Percy did not know anything about that, obviously, but he did know that ever since the winter solstice, when he climbed the skyscraper, the weather had gone wonky. Actually, that was a clue to this puzzle.
Reports across America were generally about storms, earthquakes, capsizing-level waves, tornadoes, and small wild fires. Percy recalled several gods that could cause such things, the forefront of this list being Zeus, god of sky, lightning, rain etc., Poseidon, god of sea, storms, earthquakes, and horses, and Hestia, goddess of hearth and home, and hearth typically meant fire. Of course, there were many other gods that had domains revolving around the elements, but those three had domains that were more chief over the current weather phenomena.
Seeing as Hestia was always spoken of as a peaceful goddess, Percy ruled her out of the equation...then he remembered Demeter and her dominion over nature and the like, and how she caused a world-wide drought at one point. Droughts could cause wild fires. But that wasn't important. Technically.
Percy narrowed this down to Poseidon and Zeus. Brothers, rivals, gods, and sometimes bitter enemies. With all this freak weather happening, and factoring in that the storm cell that appeared during the field trip was centered over Olympus, Percy concluded that the brothers were having another spat. The question was what they were quarrelling over. Whatever it was, it was obvious that the deadline for this quarrel to end was the summer solstice.
But none of this answered the question over why Grover thought Percy should be involved, and why Chiron did not want him to be involved.
Realizing that if he had never had that dream of Faris and acquired this higher level of mental capacity, Percy would have never got even halfway to this point of logical deconstruction. However, he was no genius and all of this higher-level thinking had burned through many of his brain cells tonight. With somewhat of a headache, Percy put his pen and notebook away in a place Grover wouldn't find it, and went to bed.
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The next day, Percy took his exams. The fluctuating words made his head hurt, and Yancy wasn't kind enough to provide him with a private room and a teacher to read him the questions, but he suffered through this ordeal with a strong will and a stronger faith in the Lord. There was nothing important to report, until the Latin exam, which took three hours of the eight-hour day.
Knowing in his heart that he did outstanding on this exam due to his vast knowledge of Greek and Roman mythology, Percy handed in his test an hour before the bell. After he was done here, he would pack his bags, board a bus, and return to his apartment where he would have words with Gabriel, but before this could transpire, Mr. Brunner attempted conversation.
"Percy, don't be discouraged about leaving Yancy."
The Assassin cocked a brow. "I'm not."
"It's...it's for the best. I mean...this isn't the right place for you. It was only a matter of time."
"I agree."
The coffee-smelling man seemed to get frustrated with something. "Oh, confound it all. What I'm trying to say is...you're not normal, Percy. That's nothing to be-"
"I know."
That finally seemed to break through the centaur's head that Percy did not care about being expelled from Yancy Academy. Percy turned his back on the somewhat-stunned teacher, and headed for the door. Before he left, he had something for Chiron. And it made him giddy to say.
"Mr. Brunner?"
"Hm?"
"Since this is probably the last time I'll ever see you in my life, I want to you to remember something."
"Yes?"
Percy turned his head, looking at Chiron over his shoulder. His lone visible eye gleamed with mischief.
"Laa shay'a waqui'n moutlaq bale kouloun moumkine."
The mug in the centaur's hand shattered upon the floor just as Percy disappeared out of the door. Mr. Brunner furiously rolled his way to the place the boy had just been, swiveling his head from side to side, his gaze peeling through the halls with all the fervor of a mad man, but Percy was nowhere to be found.
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While Percy would call Grover a friend, he was not close enough to feel any regret over not saying goodbye, and if Percy was being completely honest with himself, he was looking forward to getting home and seeing his mother...and dealing with Gabriel.
A shiver-inducing grin made its way of Percy's face when he thought of dealing with Gabriel.
Leaving Yancy was a short ordeal, and one that was done with a feeling similar to that of a great weight leaving him. Seriously, this place sucked. Percy navigated through the streets with an experience born from days of running through them, and easily found the cleanest/safest bus stop.
Just as the bus arrived, Percy heard a familiar voice, "Hey! Percy!"
"Oh, God, why?" the boy muttered.
Grover came crutching up in an Olympic-level display of speed. "I didn't know you lived in the city."
"Yes."
Percy found a seat next to a window and Grover sat next to him. When Percy said Grover was a friend, he meant that he was that one annoying friend that you could tune out and still host a conversation with. The bus ride was remarkably silent, with Grover continuing to glance up and down the aisle, clearly nervous.
A quick usage of Eagle Vision confirmed for Percy the absence of all manner of unsavory characters.
For no apparent reason, Grover suddenly fished out a business card. "Here. This is my summer address. Call me if you...if you need me, or something." After a few moments of deciphering the text, Percy made out the satyr's name, the word 'Keeper,' a rather interesting name for a hill, Long Island, and a phone number.
Percy looked at Grover, who was looking at him nervously. "This wouldn't have any relation to Camp Half-Blood, would it?"
The satyr's face of surprise couldn't have been better if had been practiced and captured by professional actors. "B-B-B-But...h-h-h-h-how...y-y-you…?"
Just then, the dashboard of the bus exhaled black smoke, releasing the smell of rotten eggs
"Fuck!" said the driver, who pulled the large vehicle to the shoulder of the highway. After a time of fiddling with the engine compartment, he announced that the bus would have to be evacuated, and so it was. Standing on the side of the country rode, Percy noticed, across four lanes of shimmering-with-heat asphalt, a fruit stand beneath a maple tree.
A fruit stand occupied by three elderly women knitting a large pair of socks with electric-blue yarn.
Percy stared at the women, and they seemed to stare back at him. Narrowing his eyes, the Assassin activated Eagle Vision-and shut it off just as fast as he turned it on. Good Lord, his retinas burned. Back when he was Faris and he came upon the Greek camp, and saw the glowing demigods, he saw auras of varying color and brightness. He took it as a measure of how powerful one demigod was over another.
He looked at those women, and he was blinded by their radiance.
Looking back at the deities, Percy saw that they were still looking at him, but now with something akin to amusement in their dark eyes. One of the women produced a pair of silver and gold shears from behind her back, and snipped the yarn of the socks, a sound which Percy heard loud and clear across four lanes of traffic.
The ladies began to roll up the socks, and the bus driver pulled a chunk of smoking metal out of the engine. With a shudder, the bus roared to life. The passengers cheered at the same time the drive slapped the bus with his hat. "Damn right!"
Grover tried tugging Percy into the bus, but the demigod did not spend months exercising late into the night for nothing. He easily resisted the efforts of the cripple, and continued his stare down of the fruit stand women. In a manner more out of a movie than anything else, a travel camper went cruising past, obscuring Percy's view of the stand.
When the camper cleared, the stand and the women were gone.
Percy rolled his eyes. How cliché.
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The Assassin ignored the panicking Grover the rest of the bus ride. In his anxiety, the cripple's bladder acted up, and at the next stop, he got off for a potty break after making Percy promise to wait for him. Percy grabbed his bag and exited the bus, then he proceeded to sprint his way nonstop all the way to his apartment complex in five minutes flat.
Stopping in front of the door, Percy could already smell the cigars and beer that were no doubt being consumed en masse by Gabriel and his fellow scum. Before entering, Percy prayed to his God to help keep his temper in check so that he would not murder the smelly sleaze, but if he did…may Gabe's reception into the afterlife be as cordial as possible, and the disposure of his body short, sweet, and simple.
With a deep breath, Percy entered his apartment.
Immediately did he notice the litter upon his living room floor, the stench of the room, worse now than on the other side of the door, Gabe himself on the couch, Eddie the Spineless, and two other pigs that Percy did not care for. Percy shut the door, intentionally loud, getting his desired attention.
"So, you're home," Gabe said. "Got any cash?"
"No."
"No?"
Percy gave the stinking thing a sideways glance. "I thought you sought to imitate a walrus with your new look. I apologize, Mr. Parrot."
Gabe's nostrils flared dangerously. Eddie absorbed himself into his popcorn, while the other two were neck deep in ESPN. They had yet to tear their eyes away from the screen. Not even their host's sudden departure from the couch was enough for them to return to their bodies.
Percy's smirk was hidden by the fact that his back was to the walrus. 'Far too predictable.'
Gabe's meaty hand clamped down on the boy's shoulder and jerked him around. Any words the walrus was about to say died in his throat when he registered a flash of movement next to his eye, and suddenly he was acquainted to the feeling of cold wood pressing tightly against his temple. Glancing to the side, Gabe saw the yellow, hexagonal body of a No.2 pencil.
Following the pencil down, the fat man almost went number 2 when he saw the cold, freezing eyes of his stepson.
"Gabriel," Percy said, "Gabriel, Gabriel, Gabriel. That is the name of the messenger of the Lord, and you are no messenger; you are not even a man of God. Your name is unbefitting and misgiven. Regardless, you are still the man of this house, despite how much I may dislike it, therefore I allow you to live.
"However, there are stipulations for continued time on this earth, Gabriel Ugliano. My mother is not your slave, nor am I your personal bank. You treat my mother with much more respect from now on, and you will leave my wallet alone. You will clean yourself up, make yourself presentable, and go to work every day," Percy's eyes continued to bore deep into Gabe's soul, flaying it and dicing it up with ruthless precision.
"I called you the man of this house…if you do not make an attempt to present yourself as such, instead of the lazy slob that you are…you may find yourself as the new poster woman for the transgender cause." It was then that Gabe registered the sharp pressure against his genitals. Looking down, he saw another pencil poking his zipper. Then suddenly both pencils were gone.
"I hope for your sake that you heed my warning, Gabriel."
Now walking away, the walrus stared at his stepson's back, his knees knocking together. His mind drew a blank as to what to do next during its reboot. Gabe played the conversation over and over again in his mind, and finally, intelligent light returned to his glazed eyes.
It was the light of wrath.
How dare that little shit demand anything of him! The god of this house! The lord of this entire apartment complex!
Snarling and sneering and growling like a beast of the ground, Gabe advanced upon his stepson, his massive weight and long stride combining to create a loud booming walk, which caused Percy's eyes to go from cold chips of ice, to freezing pieces of steel. Whirling around in a motion born from what felt like years of practice, the Assassin buried his fist into the fat man's gut.
Despite the pudgy armor, Gabe's wind made a mass exodus from his lungs, and he collapsed to his knees. Percy leaned down next to his ear, "Try something like that again, and I aim for the jugular, so help me God."
Gabe was without oxygen for too long, and he collapsed unconscious. Percy was not worried about this, however. The waste would be back on his feet within the next ten minutes. Now, Percy was able to retreat into his room in peace.
Opening the door, he wrinkled his nose at the horrid stench. Dead bodies did not reek this much. Percy found a new reason to detest Gabe, and that reason came in the form of what the cretin had done to his(Percy's) room. Muddy boots on the windowsill, magazines and beer cans and cigarette butts strewn everywhere, and Percy's belongings shoved into the cramped closet.
The Assassin's gut tightened slightly, and he became aware of all the plumbing in the complex. It took a great effort not let his frustration out, and cause the entire building to flood. Still, a few breaths later and Percy was dropping his bag and flopping down onto his bed.
In regards to Gabe's earlier inquiry over his possession of cash, Percy had lied. He was loaded. Pulling his wallet from his back pocket, the boy took note of a handsome amount of green within, and it was a handsome amount of everything between fives and fifties. See, not all of Percy's runs had been eventless aside from the odd police call and person snagging at his jacket only to be yanked to ground; there had been several instances where things had gotten messy.
Messy as in he had been thrown into an alley.
It was never anyone serious, just some high school dropouts or common street thugs that had dealings with the cartels, gangs, or mafias. Percy took them as an opportunity to test his combat skills on living, breathing targets. No, he had not killed anyone (because modern technology made it difficult to get away with such an act) but he had taken a few spoils from the broken and groaning bodies of his attackers.
Namely, any money they in their wallets.
Percy considered good compensation for what they tried to do to him, and what they had no doubt done to many others in the past. Besides, Percy had only taken the cash, leaving the thugs with any credit cards, debit cards, ID's, and car keys that they had on them. Percy also justified his looting by thinking himself as a punisher from God sent to take a small chunk of flesh out of those who did a wrong too small for travesty, but too large for ignorance.
At the end of his reminiscing, as if she had been waiting for his mind to become still, Percy's mother calmly entered his room. For the first time in months, the boy smiled. It was not a grin of triumph, a grin of glee, or a smirk of superiority over some sheep, but a true smile that belonged on the face of a child.
"Mom…"
"Oh, Percy, I can't believe it! You've grown so much these past months!"
"Yes, I suppose I have."
Only Sally had no idea just what that meant, nor would she ever. At least, at this point in time Percy would never tell his mother about the Brotherhood. His expert fighting skills, climbing ability, past life, and Eagle Vision would all be secrets kept close to his chest. Sally was not an Assassin, and, call him paranoid or whatever you like, she had no business knowing about the Creed. Besides, ever since he could remember, he had been a private child, and so Sally would not waste her time trying to pry open a titanium bunker.
The Jackson matriarch sat beside her son, her baby, and gently pulled his upper body into her lap, and began to calmly and gently run her hand through his hair. A strange, foreign feeling welled up in Percy's chest, and he quickly deduced the reasoning behind this emotion.
Faris Ibn-La'Ahad.
The man had been motherless from day one, so he did not know what the love of a mother was, did not know what her touch felt like, what her presence was like, what her soothing voice sounded like, nothing. If it had an inkling of maternity somewhere revolving around it, it was a stranger to Faris. Then, Faris was seemingly thrust into the future into the body of a child that did have a mother, had memories of a mother, and had experience with a mother.
The foreign emotions of the ancient Assassin were being transposed onto Percy via the Bleeding Effect.
Percy didn't particularly like that, and Sally picked up on this discomfort.
"Are you okay, sweetheart? Is there something bothering you?"
Percy was quick to devise something that was not related to his past life. "I was wondering if you ever got my Christmas present."
Sally stopped playing with his hair. "Oh, the Book of Proverbs? Of course I got it, sweetheart."
"Did you read it?" Percy could hear the hard contractions of his mother's throat as the muscles forced down a large collection of saliva.
"No, baby, I…I haven't."
"Oh," it was with ease that Percy put false disappointment in his voice, but he was hardly surprised. "Hey, Mom?"
Sally's eyes brightened at the prospect of a subject change. "Hm?"
"Why haven't we ever gone to church?"
That little light died instantly. "Oh. Well, you see, Percy, I…I just-"
"Does it have to do with Dad?"
It was verbal bait; a test of Sally's ability to tell the truth. Offering up something like this…Percy forgot if there was an actual term for what he was doing, beyond 'verbal bait,' but the concept was simple: introducing a false understanding of the situation would prompt Sally to do two things. Either A) finally reveal the truth after a sigh and a moment of mental collection to rid Percy of his ignorance, or B) immediately jump on the easy way out and spin a story revolving around his father.
Sally stared at her son for a moment, before sighing and closing her eyes. It seemed Option A was the winner here.
"Yes, Percy, us not going to church is because of your father." Sally sighed again. "I used to believe in God, but everyone I loved continued to be taken from me. My parents, my aunts, uncles, grandparents…all gone. Then I met your father. I thought that this was God's way of making up for everything he took away, but…but it wasn't so. Your father went out to sea one day, and was reported lost, and I haven't seen him since. When he left and never came back, and I discovered I was pregnant and jobless, struggling to get a degree, I…I lost my faith for good. I haven't taken you to a service because I'm not going to make you sit next to a nonbeliever."
Sally's eyes were a bit watery at the end of her tale, and Percy detected a strange mixture of truth and lies…he was pretty sure that was called deceit. No, he did not doubt the deaths of any of his extended family, no, he did doubt that his mother had lost her faith after a string of intense hardships coupled with extreme emotional stress, no he did not doubt his father left his mother upon his conception. What he did doubt about this tale was the 'lost at sea' part.
As far as excuses for absent fathers went, that particular one was pretty far out there…no pun intended.
There was much more to Percy's mysterious father than what was let on, and there was far more to the whole 'lost at sea' business than what was told. Percy had a theory about just who is father was, and it was a theory built upon several pieces of the otherwise obscure puzzle. If this theory was correct, it would explain why the boy had powers over water and had a migraine every time he denied the existence of Greek gods.
"Hey, Mom?"
"Yes, sweetheart?"
"God gave you me."
A little bit wider, and Sally's eyes would've fallen out of her skull. The woman's mouth opened and closed like that of a fish as she struggled to regrasp reality after having her perception of the world shattered by four simple little words. However, her mind was put on a track after Gabe's voice was heard.
"Sally! Make me some-I mean, would you please make me some bean dip?"
Sally blinked. "Did he just say please?"
"I had a talk with him. I think he'll be a bit nicer from now on…hopefully."
The woman gave her son The Eye. "Percy. What did you do?"
"Nothing," the boy chirped innocently.
Sally gave him a dubious look, but she shook her head nonetheless. "I have a surprise for you, you naughty boy. We're going to the beach."
A small light appeared in Percy's eyes. "Montauk?"
"The same cabin-three nights."
"When?"
Sally smiled. "As soon as I get changed."
Then Gabe materialized at Percy's door. "Bean dip, did you hear-"
Percy's eyes met those of the walrus.
"I-I mean, ah-hem, would you please make some dip?"
Sally smiled. "Of course, honey. After that, Percy and I will be leaving for our trip."
Gabe's eyes went small, but once again, the cold, green orbs of his stepson laid the man's soul out to be judged. "R-Right. Um, be careful with my car, please. Uh, thank you."
The walrus scurried away.
Sally looked at Percy, and the boy shrugged. "I had a really good talk with him."
"Uh-huh."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
While the Montauk beach cabin was hardly anything to be proud of, with its being half-sunken into the sand, the bedsheets being tainted with sand, the floor typically covered in a layer of sand, sand being in the cabinets, and sand being in the bathroom, on top of the occasional spider in the cabinet.
Long story short, this was not a place Anakin Skywalker would've found appealing.
Percy thought this place was a blast.
It was night now, and he and his mother had started on the beach. The glow of the flames provided illumination and heat in equal measure. The sound of the surf was but a soft whisper to them as the mother-son pair roasted marshmallows and hotdogs. Not liking this silence, Percy started conversation.
"What are we going to do about school next year? Another boarding school?"
Sally looked pained. "I don't know, sweetie. We'll…we'll have to do something."
"Why always a boarding school?" Percy probed. "Why not a public one?"
"Reasons, sweetie. Boarding schools…being away…it's for your own good."
"Me being away wouldn't have anything to with Greek monsters attacking me, would it?"
Sally choked on the marshmallow she had just put in her mouth. Percy deadpanned at his mother's behavior, and then deeply frowned when she finally coughed up the sugary menace, and turned it into a projectile that hit him in the face. Percy wiped himself clean with a nearby napkin.
"What are you talking about, sweetheart?"
On the opposite side of the open flame, the light flickering across his face, Percy's shifting countenance sent shivers down Sally's back. She loved her son, dearly, but she was also afraid of him. Had always been, really. His bleak outlook on life, his cynical views, the way his eyes would darken when he was displeased with something. He was his father's son, alright, and that could be a very scary thing.
"I'm talking about how my Latin teacher was a centaur, my dormmate was a satyr, and my math teacher was a Fury…up until I killed her and certain individuals used the mist to make everyone think that Ms. Kerr had been there since day one."
In the firelight, Sally's face perfectly reflected the colors due to her pale visage.
"So…who's my father again?"
Lightning flashed overhead, thunder following shortly after. Sally was so obviously relieved for the sudden weather distraction that Percy felt his heart ache at the knowledge that his own mother willingly lied to him on a daily basis. With haste, Sally ushered her son into the cabin, and using the late hour as an excuse, put him to bed saying that they would talk more tomorrow.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Percy dreamt that night.
It was a simple dream, with a stormy night, a white horse and a golden eagle fighting at the edge of the surf. The Assassin stood where he was, content to let the animals battle it out. He was no fool, he knew that the horse represented Poseidon and the eagle Zeus, and this phenomenon proved that there was a pagan feud going on, and it was centered around the Greek gods.
The only thing that Percy felt concerned over was the rumbling voice that came from below
"You! I sent you to the past to die! How are you here!?"
Cocking a brow, while also making a connection between himself, Faris, and this mysterious voice, Percy leveled a hard stare at the ground. "The will of the Lord."
The voice roared in anger, and the Assassin's eyes snapped open just in time to see his mother standing about three feet away with her hand outstretched to wake him. Judging by the sounds from outside, there was an actual storm raging. On top of the sounds of the raging storm, Percy heard a distant bellowing like that of a cow, a clip-clop like that of a donkey across the sand, and then rapid banging at the cabin door.
Sally was there in a heartbeat, throwing open the door. Percy was unsurprised to see Grover…without pants, exposing his satyr legs. Briefly wondering how the cripple had gotten here in the rain, or even how he knew where this cabin was, Percy was already out of bed with his clothes on. He could sense it was time to leave.
"Zeus and other gods!" Grover screamed over the storm. "It's right behind me! Didn't you tell her?"
"Yes. She put me to bed with the promise of an explanation tomorrow."
"Oh."
There was that distant moo again.
Sally paled, then she ran off to grab her purse and her son's rain jacket, returned, and threw said rain jacket over Percy's head. His visible lower face morphed into a frown.
"Both of you. Car. Now!" Sally commanded.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Driving through the storm, Percy activated his Eagle Vision. The darkness of the storm became meaningless as everything became a light blue. In the distance, Percy saw a very large red thing approach. Based on its shape, it was a humanoid bull. The Assassin's eyes went hard.
The Minotaur, most likely, but why?
Percy sat quietly in the backseat, content to let his mother drive like a madwoman through a storm and through the countryside, past farm houses, picket fences, and rolling hills. Grover kept muttering to himself, "always sixth grade, always sixth grade," Sally kept her eyes glued to the front, and Percy was mentally reviewing his knowledge of human anatomy. In a fight against a beast such as the one following him, head-on was not the appropriate strategy.
Strike at the joints, the nerve clusters, the unprotected organs. Use mind over matter.
Sally suddenly swerved to the right to avoid something, and when Percy looked back, Eagle Vision slicing through the nighttime storm, he saw the angry red glow of a Fury. Not the same one as Ms. Dodds, a different one. Don't ask Percy how he knew that this Fury was not his previous math teacher, but he did know. Using what angles he had, Percy swiveled his gaze around the sky, looking for more Furies and assorted monsters.
He found none; only the Minotaur still a distance behind.
The Fury was gone.
"One more mile," Sally muttered from the front. "Please, please, please-"
BOOM
…
With a vicious snarl belonging to a predator, Percy peeled his forehead off the driver's headrest. Bright light, jarring impact, the familiar weightlessness of jumping from one beam to another, more jarring impact, and the feeling of rain water coming in from above. Looking up, Percy was not happy to see the gigantic hole in the Camaro roof, the edges burning and sizzling.
Lightning bolt.
The fuck was Zeus playing at here?
Luckily, the car had managed to land on its wheels, making exit simple. With a grunt, and a feat of strength born from months of exercise and supernatural power, Percy kicked his door straight off the hinges, and hauled Grover out with him.
Percy found his Mom nursing a bleeding head wound, bracing herself against the side of the ruined car. She was delirious, concussed, nauseas, and looked ready to collapse. Sally would be of no help from this point on.
In another dimension, one where Percy had crimson eyes and wore a black cloak adorned with red clouds, he would've considered Sally to be dead weight, and move on. Not this Percy; not this one where he believed in the Word, loved his mother, and followed the Creed.
The Assassin heaved Grover over his shoulder into a fireman's carry, using one arm to hold him in place, and he used his free hand to grab his mom's wrist and tug her along. With the power of Eagle Vision, Percy could see a large white dome over the area in front of him, and the gigantic pine tree glowed with such a pure radiance that night was day.
Percy also noticed that at the base of the pine there was a small tinge of electric blue.
Food for thought later, because the Minotaur was getting closer.
Fueled by an intense drive to get to the tree, Percy thundered forward. Weight and fatigue became nonfactors. Adrenaline surged through his small body, empowering him beyond the norm. Furthering his strength was the rain. It soaked into body, giving him even more power. As he approached the hill, carrying Grover on his back and dragging his mother along by the wrist as if she was the child, Percy thanked God for being able to make it safely.
In fact, Percy made it so well that he actually reached the top of the hill and passed the white barrier…then his mother was no longer being held in his grasp.
Whirling with panic on his face, Grover still on his back, Percy failed to understand just what had happened. One minute, Sally was held tight in his hand, the next, she was yanked away was strewn on the ground, unconscious. For a concussion victim, unconscious was not a good thing to be. Postponing thought on trying to figure this out, Percy dropped Grover, and exited the barrier.
He was at his mother's side quickly, but a loud screeching caused his instincts to fire and send him into a diving roll. He felt a massive disturbance of air right above him, and looked up to see the same Fury from earlier…swooping off with Sally in its claws.
The claws were dripping with red.
"No!"
Lightning flashed brightly, creating shadows, blinding Percy for a second. When vision returned, the Fury and Sally were gone, but the blood trail in the dirt was still there. Wrath engulfed the son of Poseidon, and his emotions combined with the endless downpour of rain to create give the boy Power.
The Minotaur arrived, bellowing. It's nose rapidly twitched, alluding to a sense of smell that trumped its eyesight. His head snapped to where the seething demigod stood, and he got down on all fours. With another bellow, one that seemed to shake the earth this time, the monster charged. Its horns were aimed to gore Percy…but the demigod was having none of that.
Just before he reached the boy, the Minotaur's eyes widened when he saw a robed man behind his target, a deep frown on his features.
Percy's arms snapped up, grabbing the bull-man by its horns. The force behind the creature pushed Percy back, his shoes digging trenches into the dirt. Eventually, the momentum halted, and the Minotaur was left still. The stillness lasted less than a thousandth of a second, because with a roar of Wrath, the demigod slammed the bull-man's head into a nearby tree, exposing the neck.
Rearing back his arm, Percy flexed his wrist, causing his Hidden Blade to sprout. Unconsciously, he commanded the water to coalesce around the pencil, and semi-solidify into an actual blade, instead of wood and lead. He stabbed down, but the Minotaur was not finished yet. His meaty arms surged up, grabbing Percy, and he threw the boy away.
Percy slammed into a tree, the force from the monster causing him to crack the bark, but otherwise he was unharmed. The Minotaur charged, this time on two legs. He got close, and he punched at Percy's face. In a display of extreme strength, the boy's hand rose, and stopped the monster's fist cold.
The Minotaur's eyes widened again when he saw the robed man from before, his hand on top of the boy's as he stared deep into the monster's red eyes.
On Percy's other hand, his Water Blade was still active, and this time the monster was too stunned to react properly. The liquid blade extended as it was thrust up at the jugular, and with a loud boom, it cleaved through bone, muscle and flesh like all of it was but mere paper. The Minotaur gurgled, seeing as how he just been impaled through the jugular and brain. His read eyes rolled about, before becoming still as life left his body.
With a grunt, Percy wrenched his blade free by doing a 180 twist, causing a mist of red to explode from the Minotaur's fatal wound. The creature violently crashed to the ground, dead, his body fading into dust soon after, leaving only his horns behind.
Then, as if someone had just shut off the water works, the rain ceased to fall, and with its end, Percy's strength left him, and he collapsed. Before his consciousness left him, he saw the robed man smiling proudly at him.
"Well done, Percy. Remember that God is always with you, no matter who you are birthed to.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
I have discovered the key to reviews: April Fools' Day.
I am terribly sorry (not) for duping all of you like that, although there were quite a few who saw through me. If you thought I was really leaving, and then were wounded when it was just an April Fools' joke, then I am sorry.
Anyway, I've got quite the dilemma on my hands. I have reached a good stopping point for this story. Now, is it time for my youngest girl to take a short nap on the shelf while I return to her sisters? If not, should I continue with PJO content, or go into the Second Life arc?
Let me know what you think should happen with a Review, and don't forget to Fav and Follow please!