AN: Most of Percy's dialogue is in Ancient Greek this chapter which will be bold.
He doesn't understand Japanese, which will be represented in italics.
The hurricane swirled faster and faster, reaching impossible speeds as he turned in a circle. Percy was dizzy. He felt the sticky wet feeling of blood dripping down his head.
He was so confused. The last thing he remember was talking to the others, to Annabeth at the Campfire. Where was Annabeth? Where is she?
He felt tears mix with his blood. Monsters were attacking him, he didn't know who or what the were. Some looked human. One looked like a dryad, but he was male? There was a giant ass woman at some point, but after he almost toppled her onto a parking garage, she mysteriously disappeared. Now he had to deal with a satyr that wasn't a satyr but a rabbit, and male harpy, and a guy dressed head to toe in fucking denim.
His head spun even more. He swung his sword, severing the threads that got too close to him.
"WHERE IS ANNABETH?" Percy roared as he knocked the rabbit girl out of the air. The hurricane was going even faster. In the back of his mind, he registered that he was in the middle of a city. A foreign city, but that doesn't mean that much when everything is foreign. He willed the winds and rain to pick up even more as the harpy tried to get closer. He skewered a few feathers as they tried to dart their way into his little bubble.
He was making a mess. But he didn't have time to feel guilty. He didn't have the capacity. These, things, brought him here, what did they do to Annabeth? How long has it been? The same part of his mind that was actually processing information realized that it was day time. It was sunny. Before the Category 3 hurricane materialized, that is. Only because the cops tried to touch him.
"What the fuck are you saying kid?!" The not-satyr screamed. Now, anyone who isn't concussed and actually fucking knows what's going on would see that she wasn't trying to be hostile. But it's kind of hard to scream over the wind and be on the constant defense and sound kind all at the same time.
"Stop trying to reason with him, Mirko! He's off the deep end! He's fucking crazy!" The harpy yelled back. He ducked, bobbed and weaved through the wind, trying to keep Percy's attention on him. He could see through it though, and no way in hell would he let those tree roots or strings touch him.
"STOP FUCKING WITH ME AND GIVE ME MY GIRLFRIEND BACK!" The now Category 4 hurricane completely wiped the harpy out. He hit an airborne car with a dull thunk that was barely heard over the winds.
"Shit." The not-satyr barely dodge a stab at her thigh as she bounded back to the outskirts. The not-dryad followed not long after. The denim guy picked up as much slack as possible, but he was slowly running out of fuel. Percy prepared to pick him off for good.
Toshinori watched his TV, frustrated. He should be there, he should be helping. But he couldn't be. He used up too much of his stronger form between patrolling and helping Midoriya train. Why were Mirko and Kamui Woods leaving?, Toshinori thought. How would they deal with the boy? Best Jeanist and Kamui Woods could hardly keep him contained together. Best Jeanist's quirk didn't even work properly on the boy. But he didn't seem intent on capture. He was stalling, waiting for more help to arrive. Help that should be me, Toshinori thought bitterly.
Bright orange flames glared into the camera, catching Toshinori out of his thoughts. Yes, Toshinori sighed. As much as his rivalry with Endeavor was frustrating, he couldn't deny he was a good hero. His borderline overpowered flames were probably the best thing to combat the freezing temperatures of the fight. But Toshinori was conflicted, too. This young boy seemed distraught. He wasn't just mad, he was terrified? Was that what it was? He had no idea how the situation originally arose. The broadcaster only started filming once they realized the hurricane wasn't just another D-tier villain. It, in fact, was getting larger by the second. How could a boy be this powerful?, Toshinori found himself asking again. But he knew he still wouldn't be a match for Endeavour. He just hoped Endeavour didn't crush the boy. They needed answers, there was something more going on here.
He had seemed to be talking in a different language. One that Toshinori didn't recognize. He sighed again. Was it European? Was it Middle-Eastern? He wasn't sure. He watched, enraptured, as Endeavour's beard flickered out. Jeez, how fast were those winds? He knew that if his bulky frame was there, he would be able to stand up strong. But he couldn't say the same for the others. Endeavour seemed to smarter than he was, though, and counteracted the cold wind of the hurricane with his fire. It was probably some bullshit weather science, but Toshinori was amazed all the same as the wind slowed down slightly.
Endeavour relit his beard as he got closer and closer to the eye of the storm. The boy, now completely rid of Best Jeanist, started swinging his ice sword violently in Endeavour's direction. Why was he swinging? It wasn't like his blade could reach-
Toshinori caught himself. It seemed like the boy was sending high-powered blasts from the blade. Mirko and Kamui Woods were evacuating more civilians. Beast Jeanist was almost completely out of threads, and off to the side catching his breath. Endeavour seemed to have the situation barely under control, but slowly enveloped the boy in a ring of fire. That just seemed to anger the boy even more. If he was terrified, being cornered like that must have been horrifying. Toshinori looked harder at the screen. The boy was bleeding from his head. Toshinori knew it wasn't inflicted by any of the pro heroes, they hadn't gotten that close, not even Mirko. Was he under the control of someone? He couldn't have been 15 at the most. Toshinori sighed once more.
Who the fuck was this kid?
Endeavour tried and tried to close the ring of fire around him. To stun him. To slow him down at least. But the rain just kept on picking up more and more. He backed out a little bit. He knew that at this rate, if the boy fueled the hurricane any more, it would hit Category 5 levels. That would be even more detrimental to the surrounding city. It was relatively contained, instead of being spread out, the clouds seemed to hit an invisible barrier anytime they tried to drift too far.
Endeavour remembered the original report. The call of a civilian saying a villain fell from the sky. Apparently, someone with a mutation quirk that made them look like a cyclopes saw the boy falling from sky and hit the pavement. He thought he was dead, the drop must have been a thousand feet at least. But he just got up. And once the boy started opening his eyes, the civilian tried to talk to him. Then the boy freaked, and started slashing at him with a sword, but it passed through the guy. Realizing his mistake, the boy made a sword of pure ice, and started slashing at anybody who got too close.
And then police came.
And then the hurricane started.
And this went from just another nut-job to a full on evacuation event with some of the top ten heroes being unable to get close the guy. He was speaking in a language no one could understand. The language barrier was a major problem here, there was no reasoning with the kid. He wouldn't understand them. That was if this was just an innocent kid, or a psyche patient freak out. Endeavour doubted it. If he had the power to create a category five-fucking-hurricane at the ripe age of 14 years old, Endeavour worried about what would happen if he got older. If he was raised by the hands of villains. He had to put this kid out, now.
With renewed determination, and a new idea, Endeavour touched down lightly. He pretended he was winded, letting his beard stutter out and his flames die. He saw the kid coming closer and closer with the sword, ready to end the fight once and for all. But before he could swing, and before Endeavour could finish his plan, a voice cried out over the storm. How was that possible? The winds were whipping so fast, there was no way a voice could travel over it. Maybe Present Mic was here? No, no, there was no way. Endeavour didn't think he was in the area, and even if he was this wasn't a job for him. So who was interrupting him?
Endeavour whipped his head around and looking up at the offender. It was a girl! Two girls, actually. Both were the same age as the boy, 14ish maybe 15. One had blonde hair, tan skin, and grey, stormy eyes. He could make out that much from this distance. But the other one seemed to be the one who screamed. She was darker skinned, Indigenous of the Americas, maybe, Endeavour deduced quickly. She had long hair in a braid that was starting to frizz out from the storm. Her eyes, though, they were multicolored. They're pretty, Endeavour though. What the hell? Why am I thinking this, I'm a grown man. Maybe it was part of her quirk, maybe that's how she got the boy to stop. Speaking of.
Endeavour looked back at the boy. He seemed to be smiling now. He dropped the sword and it shattered on the pavement. The winds died down. Without the haze of the storm, Endeavour could really see the damage that the boy had caused. He wondered how many civilians were trapped in the rubble. Probably not that much. After the boy started waving his sword around, and the wind picked up, most people were told to evacuate. As the police got there, it was obvious the kid had a weather manipulation quirk, and those tend to induce evacuations pretty quickly. Endeavour briefly thought of the tsunami that wiped out a couple of pro heroes not to long ago. He cringed.
As soon as he went to stand up to get a hold on the boy, he had darted to meet the two girls. Endeavor tensed, but relaxed slightly as the all seemed to just hug. Specifically the blonde and the boy. They were all crying. He watched as the blonde haired girl gently touched his head, where there was a large gash on it, supposedly from the fall. He was bleeding freely now. The blonde took note of her surroundings, and saw Endeavour.
She quickly pushed the boy in the direction of the other girl, and started walking towards Endeavour. He readied his fists, put his flame back on, and prepared for another fight. The girl didn't seem to be activating any quirk as she moved, but he still rushed forward and almost punched her. But she quickly got on her knees and put her hands up. Universal peace gesture. She recognized the language barrier, but still spoke in that strange language. She seemed to be pleading, her tone was as such.
She calmly guided Endeavour back to the other kids, and after talking with the boy for a little bit, he nodded, sobbing. The brown haired girl said something, and the boy knocked out.
The two girls, each holding one of his hands tightly, they put their other hands out in a placating gesture. Endeavour knew what that meant. Even though they seemed to be working with the boy, the didn't want a fight.
Slowly, but surely, he gathered up his capture tape and went to individually wrap each of the children. He started with the boy, but quickly stopped after the blonde hair girl violently. Universal gesture of 'no'. He was about to say something, but she gesture for him to wrap both of them together. Weird. Should he be trusting them, right now? She saw his hesitancy and pleaded with him, talking in that odd language. Did he really want to risk the boy waking up? After a few nods from the brown haired girl, he wrapped them up side by side. He wrapped the third individually.
Why did he give in so easily? It doesn't matter. The cops that set up barricades on the edge of the storm circled all of them. Endeavour picked the two bundles up and shoved them into a car. One less problem to deal with. Hurrah.