Cursed to a Cruel World

by UnbredEel0

Percy broke a promise he made on the River of Styx and has a steep price to pay. Banished to a new world and thrown into another 'world ending' conflict, witness Percy struggle as he tries to make sense of what's happening, adapts to his new environment, and attempts to unravel the mysteries of yet another monster infested world. (Rated M because I don't want to limit myself)

2. Cursed Away

Hello again,

Thank you again for reading my story. When I first posted this chapter, I had a whole 11 people follow my story. Not sure if getting followers on a first post is common, I've seen plenty of longer stories gain no traction at all. Thank you to those first 11 who braved the unknown and decide to follow my story.

Shoutout to W4rfaceWarrior for being my first reviewer.

Finally, I don't own PJO, HOO, or AOT and I'm not profiting off anything.

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Author's note

Narration

Thoughts and Internal Conversations

"Speaking, duh"

Last time

After fighting gods, titans, giants, and even primordials, our hero has tragically died from a simple hellhound attack. Instead of being sent to Charon's ferry, Percy's soul is snatched away by the river goddess Styx. Styx explains to Percy that she led him to the banks of the Styx because his death had broken a promise he made to Annabeth. The last chapter ends with Styx proclaiming Percy's punishment and pushing him into her river.

Chapter 2: Cursed Away

No one's Pov:

Without breaking eye contact, Styx watches the young hero fall into the soul-eating waters of her river. With a great splash, Percy sinks like a stone, disappearing into its murky depths. Styx looks on at the spot Percy fell in but not even the sharpest eyes would be able to tell that a human soul is currently struggling under the accursed waters. Styx looks down at her hands, the same ones that just doomed the son of Poseidon, and the slightest sign of regret reveals itself in the deepest parts of obsidian hateful eyes.

"I hate my job," she says, frowning. "But unfortunately a bath in the Styx was the most merciful punishment I could give him." It's almost as if Styx is talking to herself but then a new set of unknown voices reply to the goddess's words.

"It's a necessary evil," The first speaks with croaky pronunciations and a pitch too high to be a man's.

"To dish out punishments," A different voice continues, clearly coming from an older woman as well.

"As a means to maintain order." A third finishes, her voice eerily similar to the other two.

Styx turns her head slightly to look at these three voices spotting a set of three haggardly old women who had definitely not been standing there moments before. The grannies each have silvery gray hair, wrinkly faces, wear the same cotton white dresses, and they collectively hold in their bony arms a glowing blue ball of yarn. Although appearing frail, old, and weak, these three women are divine beings. They are the children of the primordial goddess of the night, Nyx, and her husband Erebus, the primordial god of darkness. They are the literal personification of destiny, controlling the life of every living being. They are the Fates.

The one who holds the ball of yarn and spins the thread of human life is known as Clotho. She is the Fate of birth who dictates the beginning of a new life.

The woman dispensing the thread from Clotho's yarn ball and standing between the other two is known as Lachesis, the Fate of life. Lachesis weaves the string of a person's life deciding which direction and path their life will go.

The final sister is Atropos, who always holds a large and menacingly sharp pair of silver scissors over people's threads as their strings are dispensed past her. When the time comes, Atropos closes the blades, snapping the thread and ending that living being's life. She is the Fate of death, an essential evil that completes the circle of life.

Styx lets out an exasperated sigh. "Yeah, I guess you're right," she mutters.

"I remember when Perseus first bathed in your domain," Clotho comments. "It's always tricky implanting that curse in a human's thread."

As Clotho spins the ball of yarn, a black toxic-looking substance begins to emerge with the newly dispensed thread. The unknown sludge seems to be having some sort of chemical, magical, or divine reaction with the thread as it lets out an ominous thick black smoke almost as if it's melting the yarn away. The substance travels further down the line reaching the thread in Lachesis's skillful hands. Lachesis seems unbothered touching the substance, only glancing at it with intrigue.

"It's intriguing how the river interacts with a human's soul and fate." Lachesis comments.

Upon closer inspection, it appears that the substance has begun seeping into the thread itself, changing its color from a shining bright and vibrant blue to a flickering dim navy color.

"Atropos, has any mortal survived re-receiving the Curse of Achilles before?" Lachesis asks her sister.

"It's possible but extremely unlikely." Styx butts in before Atropos can respond, excited to share her expertise on the subject. "That daughter of Athena is Perseus Jackon's mortal point. Now that he's been ripped away from her, he won't have the resolve to continue existing in this mortal plane."

"You're correct Styx," Atropos replies with a crazed glint in her eyes. "While we have talked, his soul has been dissolving this whole time. Perseus Jackson is now no more." And with those final words, Atropos closes her life deciding scissors onto Percy's thread.

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Percy's Pov:

I was brought to believe that death was the worst pain a person could experience…

I forgot what it was like to bathe in the Styx.

No words come close to describing what it feels like to have your very soul get eroded away. The liquid is so polluted, so toxic, that it doesn't just penetrate and burn away a person's cells. They dig deeper, splitting up the simplest and smallest of atoms on the periodic table. The poison penetrates protons and neutrons, locates and traps electrons, and seeks out and destroys the smallest of quarks. Even then, the waters go deeper. The poison seeps into your very essence, your very being, your soul. It creeps into your mind, fogging up your thoughts as if the waters are destroying your very memories and cognitive abilities themselves.

If you aren't able to form an anchor, as in concentrating your mortal existence to a singular point on your being, then the river will dissolve your body and soul, erasing you from all existence. The pain of dying, the agony of experiencing your bodily function fail, and the feeling of your soul being ripped away to another dimension is already an indescribable experience. If that's what it feels like to die, imagine what it's like for your soul to die. All I can say is that it feels nothing like what your physical nerves and pain receptors would feel. It's… like trying to explain to a 2d stick figure what the 3rd dimension is.

It hurts. So much. But I can't give in to the pain, I need to listen to what Nico told me almost 2 years ago. I need to concentrate on what ties me to the mortal world and focus that feeling on a single point outside my body…. But I just can't. I just wanted to live out my life with Annabeth. I sacrificed blood, sweat, tears, and years of fighting hopeless wars and battles to save a world where we could be together. But then I died. All that fighting and suffering was for nothing. Even if I do make it out of this river, Styx would ensure I would never see her again. What's the point of living… What's the point of existing if I can never see Annabeth again?! If I just let go and float here… I won't have to suffer anymore.

The waters of the Styx are nothing compared to the feelings of never seeing those stormy grey eyes again. How can I continue on if I can't see the adorable way her face scrunches up when she's thinking? Or the way her eyes light up in glee when they meet mine. And the way she grabs my hand and tugs me over to some old boring building, spitting architecture jargon that flows in one ear and out the other. My heart stops whenever I see her sun-kissed, curly blonde hair gently waves in the breeze and it skips a beat every time she gives me that annoyed expression when I tease her or splash her with lake water...

Wait. Why am I thinking of her? It's counterintuitive. I already decided I wanted to go, thinking of her is the complete opposite of what I should be doing right now.! But still, even when I close my eyes, all I can see… is her face.

No! I have to keep existing! For Annabeth! We may not see each other for a hundred years, a millennium, or ever again, but I can't let the memories of her die with my soul. Annabeth wouldn't want me to lay down and give up. She'd want me to fight on, escape this river, and live my life!

The Styx acidity is unbearable but like a child of Poseidon, nothing can drown out my mental image of Annabeth. I focus on everything about her: the first words I heard her speak, that feeling of relief we shared as we stumbled out of the doors of death, and of course, that magical underwater kiss we shared. She is my everything, the thing that makes me human, my mortal anchor.

But where should my mortal point be? The middle point in my back was a good choice before. It's in an unpredictable spot (who in their right mind would choose for their weak spot to be in their blind spot) and it would be heavily protected if I'm wearing plated armor. But I'm not always walking around medieval-style like and if I'm thrown onto my back, it's 'bye bye Percy.' It needs to be in a place that the enemy can't easily access and in a spot I won't accidentally hurt….

My Achilles heel maybe? Well, that didn't work out for Achilles now did it… My neck? No, the enemy would definitely target that area…. The inside of my ear channel? No, that's just weird… Hey, what about my left armpit?! It worked extremely well for Luke and Kronos. It never crossed my mind to strike him there and even if I wanted to, it's a heavily guarded spot. If I carried a shield in my left hand, forget about it. My pit would be practically impossible to reach. And if I didn't have a shield, I could just press my arm against my body to hide my pit and protect the spot.

That's it then. Sweaty armpit it is.

I begin focusing my feelings on Annabeth towards that spot and in my head, I imagine Annabeth on the ground standing below me as my soul slowly drifts into the sky. Annabeth reveals a simple rope she was hiding behind her back and begins twirling it in the air. Once it picks up in speed, she releases it, flinging it at me like a whip. The end of the rope snaps out striking and sticking to my soon-to-be Achilles heel. Then she gives a tug, pulling me back down to Earth as if I'm a human kite or a balloon. I reach out for her as she pulls me closer and she reaches up as well. Then our fingertips touch. We grab each other's wrists and Annabeth gently guides me back to the ground. The moment my feet are grounded, we hug.

Trying my best to fight back from sobbing, I force myself to concentrate on Annabeth's comforting embrace and the joy I feel just standing around her. Coaxing these feelings towards the inside of my left armpit, my corroded soul begins to reform with a thick layer of unnatural energy forming outside my skin. This energy washes over me, traveling over every inch of my body until only until all that's left untouched is that little spot in my left armpit. A few more salty tears which not even Pontus can hold back leak out of my eyes as I feel the curse's ritual come to a close.

"Annabeth. I promise I'll continue to exist. For you."

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No One's Pov:

The maddening, murderous gleam in Atropos's eyes vanishes as her scissor's harmless bouncing off Percy's thread as if it were made of steel. The goddess is left gobsmacked, never before had she been wrong about a person's fate.

"What are you doing Atropos? Stop fooling around and cut his string. End it!" Styx shouts.

"Fate decrees the story of Perseus Jackson will not end here," Atropos replies, still shaken up that she had made an error predicting a mortal's destiny.

"The son of Poseidon's fate has taken a dramatic shift down a path of uncertainty, suffering, and pain." Lachesis continues.

"The Hero of Olympus's thread continues to spin because he refuses to die. The boy will need to receive a new punishment, Lady Styx," Clotho finishes.

A dozen meters downstream, the river erupts, showering the nearby area in a foul acidic liquid. Out of the river ejects a steaming body; Percy Jackson. He lands headfirst into the black sandy bank in an eruption of sand, unconscious. His skin is unnatural sunburnt red, as if the Styx had been boiling him alive like a lobster, but now seems to be cooling back down to his natural Mediterranean complexion. Percy is still dead, clearly observed by the way his body is still transparent and ethereal. Percy's shuttering as unconsciously begins to cough up water from his lungs is a tell-tale sign that his soul continues to live on.

Lady Styx frowns as she takes in Percy's unexpected survival. The goddess had intended for Percy to dissolve in those waters for breaking that oath he made to the child of Athena. No one had ever survived taking a second dip in her river. In fact, no one has ever dared to try before. It is not every day that you see a god or goddess make a mistake about their domain, their literal personification.

Instead of fulfilling her godly duties, so far Styx has only brought unjust pain and suffering to the hero. Although Percy may have survived the murder attempt at his soul showing a new curse as proof, the goddess is still bound by her domain to ensure a punishment is dished out and completely served. Perseus will need to receive a new punishment.

The elements of the punishment remain unchanged, Percy shall never see Annabeth Chase again. Destroying Percy's soul in her river was the easiest and simplest way for the goddess to do her duty but Percy aggravatingly survived. Styx will just have to find a new way to ensure those two would never meet each other in the real world or the after even again. There are other ways to destroy a mortal's soul but these methods are complicated and mostly out of Styx's reach. You would think that Styx could make Percy drink from the River Lethe to wipe his memory and then force him to be reborn in another life but that punishment wouldn't work. The lovers' souls could and most likely would meet up in different lives. They aren't called soulmates for nothing. Sending Percy's soul to a place where he can never interact with Annabeth's soul again is the only way he can be punished.

Styx runs her fingers through her hair and sighs and how complicated things have just begun.

"So much effort for such a meaningless broken oath," Styx complains. Knowing what must be done, Styx starts taking action. "Moirai, will you help me out?"

"The ceremony would take a large amount of energy…" Clotho responds.

"And there are other ways to punish him," Lachesis suggests, always speaking between her two sisters.

"But this is his fate, so we will lend you our strength." Atropos finishes.

The triplets move over to Percy, forming a circle around his body, and simultaneously begin to chant in an ancient tongue, a language far older than the Underworld river goddess herself. Each word, each syllable, is spoken with booming power and in an ominous forbidding tone.

It's practically impossible to send a soul by itself through time and between worlds when you are trying to send them to a specific place. A soul is too flexible, fluid, and vulnerable to change. It would easily be lost in the "transportation vortex."

Accidentally sending Percy a few years back in time or sending him to another reality similar to his own would be counterintuitive. If he was sent to a world and a timeline in which a version of Annabeth Chase exists, Percy would not be able to properly serve his punishment for breaking his oath on the Styx. To ensure this doesn't happen, Percy would need a physical body to keep his soul grounded and contained for his journey. Percy Jackson will need to be resurrected.

Styx had already come to this conclusion and had already begun making plans. She makes her way to her river and pulling up her robes so they don't get damp, she steps into the Styx. Closing her eyes, she concentrates on her waters.

It's common knowledge that gods aren't allowed to travel into another's domain. Enforced by the ancient laws, the Underworld is no exception. This is Hades' home. However, the river goddesses of the Underworld have the special privilege to travel throughout the Underworld without Hades' permission should their waters flow near the spot they wish to travel. Seeking close alliances and ties with the five underworld river goddesses, Hades ordered the construction of river canals to run throughout his empire, listening to the goddesses' wishes to have the ability to travel to regions of the Underworld they previously could not go to. In return, Hades directed the canals to intersect and flow through his palace mirroring the heart of Tarturas and giving Hades the ability to beckon the River Goddesses to his palace whenever he wishes.

Although one should not enter Hades' Palace without permission, Styx takes the risk using the loophole of having her waters running under the Place to directly teleport into Hades' throne room without the Lord of Death's permission. With a great flash of divine power, she appears before Hades who boredly awaits on his obsidian black throne, gently caressing one of the many human skulls adorned on his chair's armrest. Hades doesn't jump out of his seat or scream obscenities at Styx's sudden appearance. Being the god of the Underworld, he knows when others are interfering with the dead. He was expecting her.

"Lord Hades," Styx greets the god, bowing her head in a sign of respect and submission. "I came here today to—"

"I know what you want," Hades snaps, his voice booming through his empty throne room. Normally Hades would be flanked on either side by multiple hellhounds and undead soldiers but today it seems that he has cleared the massive room for their meeting. "You want to revive my brother's bastard son…" He spits in disgust.

"Do you know why it must be done?"

"Yeah yeah yeah. I saw everything. You went and got my hopes up too when I saw you plunge him into the Styx."

"So will you do it?"

"Does it look like I have a choice?" Hades angrily replies, hellfire bursting to life in his eyes.

Any other mortal or lesser god would have cringed under Hades' vengeful stare but Styx holds firm, not even dripping a single bead of sweat. Styx's oath does not only apply to mortals, gods are not immune to punishments that come from breaking her oath. Hades certainly attests to this. Ancient laws may prevent Styx from taking Hades' life or messing his domain but she can still indirectly punish him. Every parent that has lost a child or their lover describes it as being worse than being stabbed in the heart. Hades has always held a grudge against Styx for killing his demigod children and taking away his mortal lovers but the reason deep within his mind knows it's not the goddess' fault. Hades was the one to break the oath, Styx just has to maintain order.

"If fate decrees it then so be it. It's pointless trying to resist those old hags" Hades continues. "Besides, that boy is bound to stir up trouble with that curse of Achilles of his. My warriors may be undead but it's a pain to get them reassembled. Leave, and make sure you get rid of Perseus quickly."

Hades waves his hand using a dark, oppressive, and immense magic known only to those whose domain intertwines with death. This simple hand gesture was all it took for the Elder God to restore life to his nephew. Knowing the deed has been done, Styx bows, lets out a quiet 'thank you,' and flashes out of Hades' throne room.

"Damn women owes me for this. The amount of paperwork Jackson is causing is already giving me a headache."

---

Styx reappears on the banks of her river but they aren't the banks where she left Percy and the Fates. The surroundings are much darker and instead of soft grainy black sand, the banks here are made of shards of sharp black glass. The atmosphere is full of sulfur, enough to burn through a mortal's lungs within a matter of minutes, and it gives off the foulest smell of rotten eggs that doesn't sit well with the stench of Styx's polluted waters. Styx's water doesn't just flow through the Underworld. She is in Tartarus: the deepest abyss, home of monsters, and the prison and torture chamber of the worst criminals in all existence.

In front of Lady Styx and sitting on her river's glassy banks is a man. It's clear that he is a divine being with his aura and the overwhelming pressure of his presence but he is not a god. He is of another race; a Titan. This man isn't just any Titan, he is the King of Titans. Just over a year ago his soul had been reawakened after it had been split into thousands of pieces for millennia. Filled with rage over what his children did to him, he tried to usurp their Olympian thrones and take back his place as ruler of the Earth. The man possessed the body of a troubled son of Hermes and led an assault with an army of monsters, Titans, and mistreated demigods and minor gods against Olympus, heavily damaging the city of gods in the process. However, a certain son of Poseidon was somehow able to convince the son of Hermes to resist the Titan's possession and to stab his own mortal spot. The turned traitor died a hero, stopping Kronos's reign of terror by taking his own life. With the vessel's passing, Kronos's soul was roughly tossed back into Tartarus and was believed by the gods to be so heavily damaged that it would never form again. But the gods were mistaken. Although Kronos's soul was extremely weakened, he has not faded. His body may be littered with scars and currently, his divine aura may be less than a child of a minor god but the Lord of Time lives on.

Convincing Kronos to help her out will be harder than it was for Hades. During the first Titanomachy, Styx sided against her uncle and for the gods instead. Hades didn't inherit his grudges from Rhea, it can only be imagined how many filing cabinets of grudges the King of Titan keeps in his head. The Underworld river goddess will need to forge a convincing argument that would supersede Kronos's bitterness and thirst for revenge to fulfill her oath-enforcing duties.

"Uncle, I request your aid."

"Hahahahaha! Me?" Kronos laughs, mockingly holding his stomach in a burst of fake laughter. "Don't make me laugh…" Kronos abruptly cuts off his laughing fit, stands up, and moves towards Styx. He circles the younger goddess like a tiger does to its prey, invading Styx's personal space to deliberately leave her on edge.

"You should head back before a monster shows up," Kronos says, brushing his hand along Styx's chin. "Oh, the things they would do to a fine thing like you…"

"U-uncle…"

"I've heard you've gotten real friendly with my son, Hades." Kronos continues, caressing her chin. "I won't forgive you for that!" He furiously shouts, grabbing her face and sharply turning her chin to stare directly at the titan's scared face. Styx most certainly has more divine energy than Kronos right now but even in his severely weakened state, he is still the King of Titans and the Father of Time. If Styx so much as pushes his hand away, there could be drastic consequences.

"I think you will like to hear what I have to say."

"You smell that?" Kronos asks. He lifts a few locks of Styx's flowing hair, brings them up to his face, and takes a disturbingly big whiff. "Hehe! I smell a tribe of Cyclops nearby. Sure would be a shame if I told them you were here."

"Perseus Jackson has broken an oath on the River of Styx," Styx replies, remaining impassive to Kronos's behavior. "I came here because I request your aid in punishing him."

"So send him to me! I'd be glad to spend some time with my grandson!" Kronos replies with an insane smile stretching his lips and his golden eyes lusting for revenge.

"You know that's not how it works. His punishment is already set in stone. I need your permission for the 'traveling' ceremony." Like mentioned before, the ancient laws prevent even the oldest of beings from crossing into or using the domains of other gods. The combined might of the three Fates and Styx wouldn't be able to send Percy through time and space. She will need Kronos's permission to dish out the young hero's punishment.

"Oh… Hmmmmmmmm…" Then it is as if a lightbulb had appeared over the Titan King's head.

"Yes, this will do. This will do nicely…." Kronos lets go of Styx's hair and chin and finally leaves her personal space. He paces back forth, excitedly thinking about the request Styx has asked of him.

"My niece, as you can see I've been severely weakened by… recent events. I will do all I can to help you," he continues in a caring tone, one that's clearly fabricated. "But I can only afford to provide so much power in the state I'm currently in. You will only be able to send him to one place… of my choosing."

Styx frowns at these words sensing the apparent trickery. Seeing her displeasure, Kronos puts his hand on her shoulder in a 'reassuring' way.

"Oh, don't you worry. The new world I've chosen for him is perfect. The new life he will have will make him feel right at home, there won't be any Olympians to make him their pawn, and I swear on the River of Styx he will not see Annabeth Chase ever again."

Kronos's verbal reassurance does little to ease Styx's nerves but with the clap of thunder accompanied by the feeling of Kronos's oath being sealed, she has to believe him as she knows what he is saying is true. The devil may be plotting something nefarious but right now Styx has no choice but to accept Kronos's help. Personally, she would prefer to send Percy to a different dimension free of war and suffering to live out the rest of his days but right now she has no other options. Who knows what Kronos has in store for his grandson. Styx can only hope Kronos will keep his promise to properly fulfill Percy's punishment.

Styx tears herself away from Kronos's grip and steps back into the safety of her river, ignoring the Titan King's shouts to visit him again and his rants on how he promises to one day topple Olympus. Unlike last time, Styx doesn't just flash away when she enters her waters. Instead, her body melts away, becoming one with the river and traveling downstream in it. She does this to slow down her travel, giving herself much-needed alone time to process everything that has just happened. Percy being the first mortal to survive the second dip in her waters, the appearance of the Fates, visiting Hades at his palace and visiting Kronos in Tartarus.

As she exits Tartarus and enters the underworld and before she reaches the spot she left Percy with the Fates, Styx feels the presence of another god calling out to her on her banks. She travels to the beckoning and popping out of her river, she finds out the god calling to her was Percy's father, Poseidon. Why he is in the underworld and how he got here, she has no idea. Poseidon answers those questions for her before Styx has the chance to ask.

"Hades told me what happened and gave me permission to come here to speak with." The first thing Styx notices is how puffy red Poseidon's eyes are and how his beard has taken a grayer and untamed appearance. He must be taking the death of his only demigod son pretty hard.

"Please, give this to my son!" Poseidon pleads, closing his eyes, bending over, and holding out a small wooden box for Styx to take.

The box has noticeable waves of magical enchantments emitting off it. It's likely been enchanted with a sealing spell of some sort, one that only allows those with permission to open the box. Whatever's in there must be important. A weapon? A piece of armor? A magical item?

"I know you're supposed to be punishing him, but please, take it and give it to him. Please."

There are no rules against giving an oath breaker a last gift or last request but normally this would be pointless as their punishment usually entails ending their life, destroying their souls, or turning their brains into mush. Luckily Percy doesn't fall into those categories; he is just being sent away.

"It's not from Annabeth is it?"

"No, it's from me."

'I did fail to punish him after all. He suffered a lot from my mistake and now he needlessly has that curse…' Styx thinks. 'I owe him a debt.''

"Ok fine. I will deliver your gift." Styx finally agrees.

"Thank you, Styx." Poseidon hands out his mystery box to Styx, who takes it in her hands and steps back into her river.

"Now get out of here before Zeus gets the wrong idea about your visit to the Underworld," Styx says, knowing how paranoid Zeus gets about people plotting to overthrow his rule.

Once again, with a great flash of divine energy Styx teleports away; this time back to the banks outside the realm of the dead where Percy and the Fates are at. The Fates are still in a circle around Percy, chanting ancient incantations. Their hands are still interlocked with one another but now the veins in their bony arms glow white from the pure concentration of energy being called forth from their beings. The synchronous words spoken from their lips are now filled with even more power than before, each and every syllable kicking up dust and trembling the rocks like an overcharged boom box.

Styx steps out of her river and makes her way towards Percy. Tucking under the arms of the Fate and entering their circle, she kneels down and places her hand on Percy's forehead. Percy stirs and begins to wake up at her touch.

"Uhhhh, am I... alive?"

"Sorry Perseus, my original plan didn't work. I'll have to give you another punishment now."

"Damn…"

Styx takes Poseidon's mystery gift and waves it in front of Percy's face. Percy's eyes are cloudy and unfocused, unable to keep track or comprehend what the box is; he is clearly still recovering from his recent ordeal.

"It's a gift, from your father." Styx informs Percy.

"Dad?"

"You should take it, Percy. It'll help you in your next journey."

Percy listens and takes hold of the box, running his fingers along the surface to feel the texture of the wood for a moment, then puts it in his pocket. By now, the ancient ritual the Fates perform begins to blare a deafening noise through his ears and his whole body begins to ache as if he is taking a third bath in Styx's river. Percy tries to make sense of his surroundings but the three Fates begin to glow in a blinding white light, obscuring his vision from all sides and burning his eyes. The noise is now pounding into his eardrums with a force that makes it seem as if it is rattling his brain. Then Percy's world begins spinning. Faster and faster and faster. He throws up but the world ignores his sickness and continues spinning. Then, as if the entire universe has stopped shifting, everything goes black.

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This chapter was 5.4k words long. (I always exclude the author notes from this count)

A few flamers left their 'tasteful' opinions over Percy getting killed by a hellhound. Um, hello? That was the point. I think it's fitting that if Percy should kick the bucket, it should be by the hands of a lesser monster. After everything he's been through, fighting titans, battling giants, opposing primordials, and climbing through the gates of hell, it's poetically evil Percy's downfall was by a simple hellhound who attacked when he was off guard. He isn't meant to get some glorified death, it's supposed to be unexpected, sudden, and tragic.

I don't use third person very often but I feel like it's fitting for this scene. I was debating whether I should rewrite this scene in Styx's POV but I'm a bit hesitant. Greek gods are more humanized than in other religions but overall, gods' minds are supposed to be unfathomable to us. I don't think I could give Styx or any of the other gods the justice of writing in their perspective.

Till next time,

-Unbred

Stats for nerds: 77 views, 11 follows, 8 favorites, 3 reviews

Published Originally on 9/12/2020

Big Revisions done on 3/7/2021

Smaller Revisions done on 4/26/2021