We hit the 600-mark last chapter in Reviews, so everyone deserves a cookie! Feel free to go buy some from your local grocery store/bakery, or just make them at home with any cookie dough you already have in the freezer.
Anyway, an opening fight scene, Percy meeting Desmond, Olympus, and the end of the arc…at least, as of right now. That might change when I get down to the end of the chapter.
Disclaimer: I don't own AC or PJO
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Not counting the ones taking a nap, there were nine more Assassins. They all charged head-on from different directions. Not a bad tactic, swarming, but their formation was loose, their net filled with holes big enough for oxen to run through, and Percy was much smaller than an ox.
He blitzed through the open hole, running right at an Assassin that was hanging back, coming in at a slower pace. Percy saw that it was a girl under that hood, one that was no older than her early twenties, and she was caught completely flat-footed at him getting in her guard. An elbow to her diaphragm sent her sailing through the air, and into the world of dreams.
Percy spun around, tilted his head to the side to avoid a punch, caught the offending limb around the shoulder, jerked forward, and rammed his knee into the gut of his attacker, another woman. Then he grabbed tighter, spun around, and used the flying legs as an impromptu baseball bat to nail two Assassins in the head, in one fluid sweep. They were sent to the ground, out like lights.
Doing another rotation, Percy threw his captured Assassin into the side of a dumpster, where she crumpled and didn't get up. But her back rose and fell at a steady pace. A war cry alerted the reincarnation of Vergil to the bull rush of a bruiser of an Assassin. He allowed himself to get bulldozed and picked up off the ground, then he slammed his fists into the large one's back. The sound of cracking bone was heard across the alley junction.
Percy back peddled a few paces as the momentum carried into him dispersed.
Disappointed was how he could describe himself. The first woman couldn't predict to save her life, the second had no idea how to counter simple hand-to-hand techniques, those other two had poor reflexes to not be able to duck, and the fifth guy, the one he just put down…seriously? When did charging by yourself like that ever work, especially when you're screaming at the top of your lungs?
Amateurs.
Percy looked at the remaining four. "Well? Are you gonna change tactics, or whistle Dixie?"
The answer came in the form of a metal ball being tossed at his feet. It began to expel a thick amount of smoke at a rapid pace. Percy frowned, unimpressed. It was clear that their goal was to apprehend, and a smoke bomb wasn't a bad strategy, but this should have been anesthetic gas, not just a smoke screen. Using Eagle Vision, Percy saw the four remaining Assassins all coming in at once, unique goggles on under their hoods.
Alright, here's to hoping they had decent martial artistry prowess.
The first one jumped into the air, intending to put all of his weight into something of a haymaker, fully expecting his approach to be covered by the smoke. Percy slid to the side, the Assassin landed, and had his face grabbed. Then he was thrown clean out of the smoke, which was starting to disperse.
"He can see us! Fall back!"
The smoke cleared out entirely, and the one who had been thrown was back on his feet. Percy stared down the four of them. "I'm disappointed. Tell me: are you refusing to use any of your other weapons, or did you neglect to bring them on account of underestimating me?"
Instead of answering any of his questions, the leader instead asked, "Who are you?"
"Oh, you already know the answer to that one, son. Elsewise, you wouldn't have targeted me. Now quit your yapping, and show me what you got."
Instead of foolhardily rushing to attack en masse, the squad of Assassins got smart, and calmed themselves. They surrounded Percy, giving him a twenty-foot birth, all of them blocking a potential exit to the streets. The reincarnation of Vergil put a hand behind his back, and extended his other, palm flat, like a gentleman offering a lady his hand for a dance.
After a time, the one in front came first. Percy slid to his side, spun on his heel, and close-lined the man. The force of the blow and his speed resulted in him spinning hard enough to make a complete, one hundred and eighty degree spin, and land on his face. Percy harshly stepped on his head, knocking him out.
"Sloppy."
He jerked his head to the side, dodging the fist from behind. He grabbed it before it could be retracted, spun around so that the arm went above his head, all the while twisting the offending limb. The Assassin winced mightily, but screamed in agony when Percy hiked his leg up onto the outstretched arm, and used it as a fulcrum to break the Assassin's arm. Percy put the man out with a punch to the lower jaw, breaking it.
"Pitiful. Borgia grunts put up harder fights, though perhaps I'm not being fair."
The two remaining Assassins nodded at each other, and the both rushed in. Percy put both arm in front of him, and was content with back-stepping to deal with the assault. The two worked well together, must've been the Leader and the Backup, coordinating their punches and kicks. Percy blocked all of their attacks with relative ease, his demigod reflexes more than capable of handling a couple of mortals.
His back suddenly hit a dumpster, and then his feet were knocked out from under him by a low arm. Ah, the woman from earlier, the one he had thrown against this particular dumpster, was awake. Now that was a strategy; steadily back him up until the one on the ground could get a sneak attack in.
Unfortunately, Percy was stronger than all three combined, and faster, and a great deal more agile. He planted on his hands, and sprung up with almost lethal force. He nailed the two Assassins on the undersides of their jaws, and kept going up in such a way that he landed on their heads, his full weight coming down on their skulls. They didn't die, but they most likely had major concussions. The woman on the ground gaped at Percy's display of strength and agility.
The reincarnate Assassin turned to face her with an amicable smile. "Greetings. Now, would you mind telling me why the Brotherhood is trying to kidnap me?"
She fainted.
"Well, that's counterproductive." He heard the crackling of a radio.
"Alpha Team, report." Static-y sound.
"Beta Team, report." More static.
"Charlie Team, re—"
Percy picked up the radio from out of the Leader's pocket. "Yes, hello. My name is Percy Jackson. Please tell me all of you are Assassins and not Templars."
"What the-? How did you-"
"Knocked them all out. It seems the quality of the Order has diminished over time. You are Assassins, correct?"
"Yes, but how do you know-"
"It's a very complicated story. Now, are you the leader of the Las Angeles Brotherhood, or are you the Mentor?"
"Uh…um…"
"Your hesitance tells me you are neither, which begs the question of why you seem to be the one in charge of my kidnapping. Why are you attempting that, by the way?"
"We saw your stunt at St. Louis. Your technique, the Hidden Blade, and then the Leap of Faith. We wanted answers."
"You could've just asked me in person."
"We didn't think you would take kindly to a bunch of strangers in hoods approaching you and asking you questions."
"Because I would take kindly to being stalked and attacked. Excellent plan. Now, what was your backup plan?"
"…"
"Hm, disappointing. Anyway, I have business to attend to. Meet me at Central Park at your earliest possible convenience. We'll talk there."
Percy crushed the radio in his hand, and then he snarled, snarled at the apparent patheticness of his Order, snarled at the apparent hole they seemed to have dug for themselves, snarled at how not smart these idiots were, and snarled at the fact that he had a deadline to meet, and couldn't waste time on talking to whoever was on the other end of the line—and then he smacked his face when he remembered the Summer Solstice was actually three days away, and he had plenty of time left to actually make conversation.
Oh well.
"Woah…"
Percy looked at the man who had just run down here, and he blinked at the man's striking resemblance to Ezio, and…Altaїr? Huh, trippy. This guy even had Ezio's scar on the right side of his lips.
"Considering how loud you are, how amazed you are, how vocal you are, how out of breath you are, and the fact that you just announced your presence out of nowhere…I'm gonna go out on a limb and say you never finished your training, shoddy as it may have been."
"Uh, yeah, kind of…"
"And your name is?"
"Desmond Miles. I—I saw you on the news, and then I tracked you here, after following these other guys."
"A free-lance Assassin with mediocre skills…my, do we have much to talk about, novice. However, your questions will have to wait for later. I have business to attend to, and I believe my flight leaves very soon. Find me at Central Park, along with these third-rate kids."
"Wha-hey! Wait!"
Percy sprinted down the alley, and into the crowd. Desmond didn't stand a chance in Hell of finding the boy.
The descendant of Ezio groaned. He basically quit his job, drove literally across the country, tracking down a kid with Assassin abilities and appearance, finds said kid, only to be blown off like an expensive hooker. What's worse, he recognized every one of the Assassins on the ground, and they were stirring.
Desmond took that as his que to leave, but a voice stopped him in his tracks.
"Desmond…? Is that you?"
Shit. "Uh, hey…Dad…"
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Percy found Lou waiting for him at the security scanner. All the employees had a dazed look in their eyes, telling Percy they were all under the influence of the Mist.
"So…was business taken care of?"
"Yes. The Assassins still exist, meaning the Templars do as well, but my compatriots have terrible skills for this day and age."
"Well, you are a demigod now, meaning you have superior physical abilities when compared to any human, so cut them a little slack."
"Perhaps, but I've taught many novices before, and I know how skilled they should be at this point."
"Maybe they're all just trainees?"
"Maybe. Anyway, I've set a meeting for Central Park as soon as they can get there."
"Ah."
"Also, Lou," here, Percy turned serious. "The Assassins found me, so it stands to reason that the Templars won't be far behind. Keep your guard up, your eyes peeled, and your nose to the dirt. We may have company on our flight."
"Got it," the witch nodded. "But, uh, Percy?"
"Yes?"
"You know how I can use magic?"
"Yes…"
"I don't think a bunch of humans who don't even have Clear Sight will be much of a threat."
"Oh. Fair enough. Let's go."
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"Leave one of them intact. I wish to have a word."
"Got it."
Annabeth, Beckendorf, and Grover heard this, and were confused. "Uh, what are you talking about?" the daughter of Athena asked.
"Mortal mercenaries in the employ of the enemy."
"I think that was poetry."
"Well, Apollo is my cousin, so I guess we share something in common."
"Uh-huh."
Meanwhile, while all of this was happening, Lou Ellen was working her magic, Kira napping in her lap, curled into a ball of fluff. First, the rest of the passengers were put under what basically amounted to a 'notice nothing' spell. Second, all but one of the Templars were turned into a bunch of sleeping piglets. Third, the last Templar was frozen in his seat, unable to move. Finally, Lou cast something of a truth serum spell on the man.
Just like that, the Templar threat was subdued.
"Lou, is there anything you can't do?" Beck asked.
"I cannot breathe fire like a dragon."
"Oh."
Percy got up from his chair, hands clasped behind his back like a gentleman, and he approached the magically bound Templar, smiling warmly. "Greetings, my friend. I believe you and yours were trying to kidnap me, yes?"
"Yes," he answered in a dull monotone.
"Why?"
"My superiors believe you to be descended from an Assassin. They wanted you brought in for an experiment."
"What kind of experiment?"
"I do not know."
"Hm, convenient."
"I thought it was annoying."
"Agreed. So, what's the face of the modern-day Templar Order?"
"Abstergo Industries."
Percy almost fell down. "Oh."
He knew very well what Abstergo was. As did everyone not living in a rainforest somewhere in South America, or a desert in Africa. They were the world's largest pharmaceutical company, pioneers in genetic research, hosts of benevolent charities, makers of every house-hold appliance known to man, car/home/medical insurance brokers, and all-around good people.
So, of course they were being run by the Templars.
Cross-bearing bastards always did like to make themselves the political and commercial heads, so even if they were killed, their deaths would be mourned instead of celebrated. Now Percy had even more reason to frown upon the current state of the Brotherhood: how the fuck had they let the Templars become so powerful?
Something like Abstergo would not be easy to take down.
However, on the bright side, Percy now had something to do with his life. The Assassins still existed, although in what appeared to be ruins; the Templars still existed, in a state of power Percy hadn't seen since the era of the Borgias. The ancient conflict still raged, though seemingly in a state of cold.
Percy intended to heat things back up.
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The rest of the flight was uneventful until landing, in which Lou released her spells. Percy was going to kill the Templar agents, and leave their bodies in the bathroom, but Lou convinced him otherwise by wiping their memories and setting them of paths of good deeds.
Percy was sure that was going to get them killed later down the line, not remembering their employers like that, but hey. A lot less blood that he had to spill himself.
There was a procession of Templars at the airport, no doubt waiting for the agents on board to emerge with Percy in their possession. What they got was a trick of the Mist. From there, it was a simple cab ride to the Empire State Building, an altercation with the receptionist in which he said only Percy was allowed to go up, and everyone else had to return to Camp Half-Blood, and an elevator ride up to Olympus.
With crappy elevator music.
When the doors opened, Percy could only think that the pagans had sought to recreate what Heaven looked like, and came up short. Granted, Olympus was a beautiful place, filled with terrific smells and sounds, dazzling scenery, and packed to the brim with beautiful individuals. False gods, obviously.
Finding the throne room was easy enough, given how it was situated on a hill that overlooked the entire mountain, and was gold. There was also the unhappy storm cloud swirling above it. The doors were ostentatious and annoyed Percy, and were easier to push open than he imagined, but still. The only deities present were his father and his uncle, and where his uncle didn't look terribly pleased, his father looked proud…and angry.
Percy nodded to Poseidon, a show of respect, and Poseidon nodded back. Zeus took offense to this.
"You bow to him before you bow to the master of this house!?"
"Silence yourself, paranoid king. I'm not even bowing to this one." Percy promptly took the Master Bolt out of the blue bag, and threw it at Zeus, who caught it, and still wasn't exactly happy, but the glower from his elder brother stayed his wrath.
For now.
The Sky God leveled his own glower at his nephew. "Do not think you have favor with me, child. Your existence bodes ill for the future of the gods, but for the sake of peace within the family," Zeus glanced darkly at Poseidon, who glared back, and then directed his electric blue gaze back to Percy, "you will live this day. But know this: do not ever attempt to fly, for I will strike you down."
"You may try, false god, but we all know you will fail."
Ozone filled the air, along with the sparking of lightning bolts from Zeus' eyes. "Is that a challenge."
"If it were, you would fare no better than Ares."
An earthquake shook Olympus, and it was Poseidon who was trying to break his trident in half by squeezing it. "Son," he said tersely, "please, do not say that name…in my presence. Thank you."
Inside of him, Percy liked to think that feeling in him was relief. Relief that his father seemed furious with the War God. Relief that the Nereid had indeed done her homework. Relief that Poseidon loved him enough to feel anger when something terrible like what Ares did, happened.
Zeus took the message that his time here was over. "Don't go into the sky, ever." Then he vanished in a blast of lightning.
Percy looked at Poseidon, not entirely sure what to do from here, so he just nodded once, "Father," and he turned around for the door. The Assassin heard the sound of rushing water, and then he was being tightly embraced from behind. Something in the boy melted, and he gave himself to his father's arms, completely relaxing in the strong yet gentle grip.
"I'm sorry," Poseidon said lowly. "I'm sorry I haven't been there…I'm sorry I can't do any more than what I can…and I'm sorry about what that scum did to you…what it planned to do to you. If I had known—" he choked— "Percy, if I had known, I would've—"
"It's okay, Dad. It's been handled."
Sea green eyes darkened. "Too soon and not painful enough."
"Perhaps in this life, but his afterlife? It's been handled."
Poseidon conceded to his child's argument, and so he moved on, still holding his son. "So…Christianity? But you still call me dad…"
"The Bible says to honor thy father, and so I do. What I will not do, however, is worship you in any form or fashion."
The Sea God smiled. "I'm glad," he said, "I'm glad to see what a good man you are at such a young age."
Percy smiled, enjoying the praise from his father, and the warmth in his chest.
"But I'm mostly glad to see that your faith is rewarded. So many people turn to Him for aid and refuge, only to be denied."
"They're never denied, Dad. There are forces that work against God, demons, fallen angels, the Devil, just as there are forces that work against you and my aunts and uncles, and there are forces that work against the good people of this world. It's a tactic of the wicked, working from the shadows to sabotage the righteous, to destroy the balance of peace, and create dissent on the earth."
"My goodness," Poseidon said. "Strong-willed, devout, skilled in battle, intelligent, and a philosopher…all at the age of twelve. Your Lord has truly blessed me."
"He's your Lord too," Percy said casually, "and it's not philosophy. Merely an observation of the true nature of reality."
"You will lead a good life my son, I know it." And then Percy felt the sadness that enveloped his father. "Although I fear it may be cut shorter than what anyone but your enemies would want."
"What makes you think that?"
The Assassin felt his father considering something, before the man sighed. "During World War II, the previous children of the Big Three, Hitler, Stalin, Eisenhower, and Churchill, tore this world apart, as I'm sure you know. After the War was ended, my brothers and I made a pact to never have demigod children again, because they were too powerful. However, a prophecy was issued, long ago, one that said one of our children would bring about great destruction to this world, or great salvation…at the cost of their life."
Silence hung in the air at Poseidon's revelation, before it was shattered by Percy's light-hearted chuckle.
"Son? I just told you you're gonna die one day."
"Oh, Dad," Percy smiled, "we're all going to die one day, even you. Nothing lasts forever, not even false gods. Letting life be dictated by a false prophet is no way to live, and I'm not going to live that way. When God deems it to be my time, then it will be, and when that happens, I will be mourned—hopefully—but I'll be remembered with fondness as well…hopefully."
Poseidon stared down at the raven head in between his arms, stunned at the words he heard, flabbergasted at how positive his child was. "Percy, you've grown into a fine young man in such a short amount of time that it fills me with as pride as it does sadness. You're my son, and yet I've not done a thing for you since you were born."
"Dad, you've done the greatest thing a father can ever do for his child."
"What's that?"
"Give them life."
Poseidon choked on a sob, before invoking his divine power to prevent himself from crying or sobbing further. In a further attempt at keeping his emotions and his tears at bay, the Sea God tried to lighten the mood by changing topics.
"So…don't think I haven't notice the little sparks between you and the daughters of Hecate and Athena~."
"…Dad."
"I also know about your brief tenure as a girl, and I have to say, you were just the spitting image of your beautiful mother."
"…Dad…"
"I mean, mm-mm-MM. I was so proud to see my little girl all grown up and saving the world already, and I was just—OH! I was just so proud of you~!"
"Dad! STOP. IT."
Poseidon chuckled, getting the laughs out of his system before seriousness set back unto him.
"In all seriousness, though, Percy. I want you to know that I love you. Whether you're a boy or a girl, or something in between or something entirely different, I want you to know that you're my child, and you'll always be my child, and I will always love you."
"I love you, too, Dad."
After so many decades, it felt unbelievably good to say those words again.
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Percy knew that he was needed back at Camp for a status report, and he knew he had a meeting due with the Modern Brotherhood at Central Park, but before he went to do any of that, he went to the Upper East Side. He went home.
Finally, he could see his mother again, and he wanted to see her again. Exiting the elevator and entering the hallway, Percy actually ran down the space, eager to see her, and eager to deal with the walrus. He found the door slightly ajar and the apartment a ransacked mess.
His elation died like a flame, and dead seriousness enveloped him. It smelled like a corpse—and for good reason. Gabe and his three buddies were dead, all mutilated. Gunshot holes, knife wounds, canine bite marks…their deaths had not been painless ones. By the look of the apartment, there seemed to have been a major struggle.
Using Eagle Vision, Percy scanned everywhere, seeing things and items highlighted in gold, ghostly images of men in combat gear, gas masks on their faces…and a fat man in a purple suit dragging his mother away by the hair.
The Assassin whipped around to follow the apparitions, and then came face to face with the most handsome man he had ever seen.
"You've caught my attention just as you caught my father's. Let's see how much faith you truly have in him, Son of Adam."
The man's pupils went sideways, like that of a ram's, and then Percy knew only darkness. Before he lost total awareness of his senses, he heard the man say one more thing.
"Let the Test of Job commence."
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And I'm evil, just like the guys that killed Gabe and co., just like the fat guy in the purple suit who took Sally (whoever could that have been?), and just like that handsome man that knocked Percy under (whoever could THAT have been, honestly?).
For clues as to just what I have in mind for the coming arc, Google 'Sporus.' That will give you some ideas as to what's going on with the fat man in the purple suit. As to what the handsome man is going to do at the end of all this, Google 'Amon: Darkside of Devilman.' You should be entertained.
Also, it's my birthday tomorrow, and if you don't believe me, you can look at all the Reviews for Chapter 8 of Son of Jashin. So, if anyone wants to give me a birthday present, Review! That being said, expect a birthday present from me to all of you sometime soon, as I know a cliffhanger like this is torture.
Fav, Follow, and Review!