Hello again,
Old news but the 'Chad' Percy fanbase is still on full throttle, perpetually ripping my story to sunders. It bothered me when I first started writing but now it's just amusing. Like some people read the last chapter and were like "wHy iSn't PerCy wiNnIng" as Percy deals with his fragmented mental state and goes through an existential crisis.
To Lucas Fernando's review, I haven't considered making Percy one of the nine titans. I like the idea, and I love AOT crossover fanfics where they make another character from another show one of the nine, but I don't think it fits in my story. Percy's special enough as he is and with the logic I'm working with, Percy won't even be an Eldian. Meaning, Percy won't be able to turn into a titan and he won't be able to hear Eren in the paths. But by no means is that final, my story's still in its infancy and anything could still change on a whim.
The direction of the story:
So here's another full prison chapter. Yeah, I know it's not the most exciting thing to read, but I hope I'm achieving my goal of making this prison arc more meaningful and actually provide some depth to Percy/Annie's relationship.
Here's some of the things I want Percy and Annie to touch base on before I close the prison arc: Monsters, the Mist, AOT Titans and the History of the Walls, a Tartarus nightmare, and a talk about being so far away from home. I think I can cover most of it, if not all of that, in the next chapter. Is there anything else you guys would like to see Percy and Annie talk about? If not, there's a good chance Chapter 10 will be our last 'Prison Arc' chapter.
Shoutout to DCosmicSage38 for being my 300th reviewer, WOOOO!
Disclaimer: 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
On day 4 in prison, Percy finally realizes that the effects of the Curse of Achilles run deeper than his skin. It's been affecting his head, accentuating his worse traits. Faced with one last chance of retaliation before the MPs lock away Riptide for good, with the help of Annabelle, Percy is able to resist his boiling anger and not strike back. Arriving in the aftermath of Percy's internal struggle, Annie has to salvage the day's interrogation and get through to Percy. She does this by negotiating to give Percy more food, and after learning about Percy's mother, she concludes the day. But Percy doesn't get to rest as in the middle of the night he is attacked by Kenny the Ripper. Attacking Kenny's drive and purpose as not being good enough to survive the Styx, Kenny strikes back pointing out that Percy has no purpose and no reason to live. Left in a grave state of mind, Annabelle is able to pull Percy from the darkness and set him on a new path. To find himself a new New Rome.
Chapter 8: Detention Discourse
Year 850: Percy's 5th Day in Prison
Percy's POV:
"For the last time, you'll be fine."
But what if I say something wrong? I don't want her to think I'm lying, but I also can't let her think I'm crazy!
"Sorry to break it to you, but she already thinks that."
Annabelle!
"The worst thing you can do is change your story or make things up. She'll pick us apart if you deviate, you know this. Tell her the truth and you'll be fine. So. Stop. Worrying."
I don't know. I mean, telling them about the gods didn't work well for me the first time. Maybe this isn't the right call. Shouldn't we come up with a new type of—
"You'll never heal if you don't talk about it."
"What do you m-mean? That's not the issue—"
"You can't hide it from me, dumbass."
…
"It hurts, I know it hurts. But you need to talk to someone about it."
…
"You still haven't processed everything that's happened to you. Seriously Percy! You died! That thought hasn't even passed your mind!"
…
"Look, you have nothing to lose but everything to win by talking to Annie. I don't only believe telling your story, your 'real' story, has the possibility of putting you in a better spot with the Military Police, I truly think sharing your story with another human being could be therapeutic for you."
…
You're right…
…
"Then why are you still worrying?"
Sorry! I just can't stop thinking about it, you know?
"It's going to be ok."
…
Got it… Alright… Ok… Yeah, maybe I can do this.
"Unless you mention me."
What!?
"She'll think you're a new level of crazy if you do that."
Why did you have to say that!? I was just about to—Fuck it, never mind.
…
Hmmm…
…
A new New Rome.
…
My mind still reels from the thought of it; with thoughts, ideas, and imagery firing off in my head a mile a minute. Just the idea of its concept gives me a migraine. I mean—what would a new New Rome look like? Surely it would be a small city with restaurants, places of entertainment, a college, a clinic, and all those other basic needs. But would it have that… touch?
Would a new New Rome have a magic shield that encompasses the town, repelling all monsters that try to enter? Or rather, would the city be surrounded by a veil of mist, sheltering it from wandering eyes and hungry barbarians?
Would little kids be running through the streets of a new New Rome, playing hopscotch and jump rope without discrimination of one's lineage?
Could any man climb to the top of a new New Rome's tallest tower without the fear of inciting a thunder god's wrath?
Could a daughter in a new New Rome be picked up by her boyfriend for a night date without her homewrecker of a mom ensnaring her crush at the doorway of their home?
Would the majority of households in a new New Rome be two-parent homes, where each kid would have a father and mother figure and each parent would have a supportive partner to help raise their kids?
Would it be safe?
Will it be peaceful?
Is it a place a person like me could belong?
But the biggest question of all:
Do I deserve it?
"Only you can answer that."
But—How can I…
"The moment you reach it, that's when you'll know."
…
"You just gotta stick around until then."
…
Thanks, Annabelle.
"Don't sweat it."
…
A new New Rome…
…
A light tapping on my door pulls me from my thoughts. It's finally time for my next session.
An overweight, middle-aged man with receding brown hair and wearing a round pair of spectacles enters my cell. Although yesterday he had introduced himself as Flynn, I like to call him 'Wimpy' in my head. Our eyes align and staying true to the alias I gave him, Wimpy's breath hitches. Averting his attention, he quickly moves to set up his chair in the corner. Stepping out of the way, hidden behind Wimpy's wider form is the petite figure of a small girl. Annie. And in her hands—FOOD!
"Apollo's rays, you did it! You really did it! Lady Demeter, praise be!"
"You sure have some strange sayings, don't you."
I jump into a cross-legged sitting position, patting the sheets in front of me to encourage Annie to place down the tray which to my delight, she does.
In the middle of the tray sits a big bowl of potato soup, with scattered carrot slices, peas, and a murky white broth. Set to the side of the soup bowl is a small loaf of bread, the same size that made up my previous rations. It's in the same condition too, I've already made plans to use my soup's broth to soften its hard exterior. And lastly, in the top right corner of the tray, is a cup of water.
Sweet glorious water.
"Go ahead and take a few bites, Perseus. Then we'll get started." Annie gives me the go-ahead as a spoonful of potatoes and carrots plops into my mouth.
The soup tingles in my mouth and throat as I swallow. It's hot, I feel like a dragon breathing exhaling a breath of soup scorched air.
Was it supposed to burn? I was under the impression the Curse of Achilles worked like the Nemean Lion's pelt…
"Stick Riptide in there and let's find out."
"Yeah, how about no."
Besides, they locked Riptide away from me….
"I told you to call me Percy," I tell Annie, shaking myself from my soup trance thoughts.
"Is Perseus Jackson not your given name?" She asks, crossing her arms.
"Yeah, it is."
Annie raises her eyebrow as if asking "So what?"
"It's just—it's uncomfortable whenever someone calls me by my full name. Kinda like when your mom calls you by your first, middle, and last name and you know you're in trouble. That's why I prefer Percy. Just Percy."
"Only nobles have three names."
"Do they?"
"Yes."
"I think that's how it used to be in our world too."
"Oh…"
"But don't quote me on that."
"Well having three names is pretty common where I come from."
Annie continues staring at me with those piercing light blue eyes but they seem unfocused as if she's lost in thought.
"Umm, I don't want to complain—seriously, thank you again for getting me more food—but there's not much protein in this." I point out, raising a spoon full of potato soup to make a point. "Is this what I'm always going to get?"
"Can't you recall? I told you we were having a food shortage."
"Right…"
I slurp another spoonful of soup before asking my next question. It's good, I hope I won't get sick of it too soon.
"Can I ask why there's a food shortage? Did you guys have a bad winter or something?"
"Have you been living under a rock?" She asks expectantly.
"I said I wasn't from around here, haven't I? I know nothing about this place! I still don't know who you guys are either!"
"Hmmm…" Annie hums, thinking what to say.
"Much of humanity's grazing lands were lost when Wall Maria fell, and a good portion of those remaining within Rose and Sina were converted to farming to support the new population burden. All refugees regardless of age were sent to the field to work but there was still never enough food to go around."
What the fuck happened to this place?
"Point is, because of all this, red meat is a delicacy only the rich can afford. In the military, only officers are given beef, pork, and lamb on a semi-regular basis."
"I see…"
"Fall of Wall Maria… Mission to reclaim Wall Maria… It came up during your trial, I think."
These walls, what are their purpose?
I recoil in disgust as an image of that Gabe look-alike naked giant passes my thoughts.
"That. They're protecting people from that."
What they really need is Medusa's head.
"While we're on the topic of your name, 'Perseus' is pretty unique. I've never heard anything like it." Annie comments.
"Hehe! I guess it is, I've never met another person with the same name either."
"So what gives? Did your mother just string together several random letters to craft your name or does it have a meaning?"
"My name… Uhhh, it means—Well… Hmm."
Annie patiently waits as I struggle to find the right words. Meanwhile, Flynn scribbles something down in his notebook. I hope he isn't reporting I'm being uncooperative.
"Sorry, but isn't that kind of personal?"
"That didn't stop you from blabbering about your childhood and mom last time."
"Yeah, you got me there." I sigh at Annie's quick comeback. "It's just—I'm trying to figure out how to phrase this."
"If you tell nothing but the truth, you wouldn't need to worry about your phrasing." Annie immediately jabs back.
"I don't want you to think I'm crazy. Is that too much to ask?"
"I think we're past that."
"Not you too!"
"Quit stalling."
"I—jeez…"
"I was named after the legendary Greek hero, Perseus. The full story of his quest is pretty long but the gist of it was that he was sent on a quest to kill a certain monster, returned with the monster's head, then used the head to kill a giant sea monster and save a princess."
"So high expectations?"
"From others, for sure, but not from my mom. Perseus was one of the only Greek demigods of legend to have a happy ending, she hoped that giving me his name would rub off some of that luck on me."
"Well, isn't that foreboding?"
"Yeah, it is…"
…
"So… Greek, is that a term indicating your race, or does it mean something else?"
"Yeah, it is. But Greek is also my pantheon."
…
For a moment Annie just stares at me. I dip my bread in my soup's murky broth and slowly take a bite. I don't enjoy it, not because of the taste, because with every movement I can feel Annie's scrutinizing gaze. The back of my ears begin burning in embarrassment and the silence becomes unbearable.
"To make things clear, when I'm talking about Greek gods, I'm not challenging the existence of other gods in other religions." I stammer, squirming in my seat. "I mean—If anything, it helps prove other gods exist, you know?"
"Doesn't that defeat the purpose of having a single unified belief?" Annie counters.
"Uhhhhhh—"
"Back to your name, why did your mother feel the need to name you after Perseus?" She backtracks before I can respond to the last question.
"Ummm—Well, she wanted me to live a long life."
"And why did she feel the need to wish that?"
My ears heat up again. This time not from awkward embarrassment but due to anger. Something about Annie's question makes it feel like she's accusing my mother of something.
"If you have to know!—"
"Cool things down, Percy."
"Excuse me." I cough, turning down the volume. "My mom, 'felt the need', because she knew how cruel a demigod's life can be."
"Should we address what that entails?"
"What? A demigod's life? It's a life of broken homes, fucked up family relations, having the most overbearing parent in existence, and a life of servitude that leads to an early death."
"…"
"..."
"Care to elaborate?"
"No. Why should I?"
"Percy, we talked about this…"
"Because I'm less interested in how your powers work. I would rather learn about how a person with abilities such as yourself—a 'demigod'—lives their lives. Being a child a 'god' must set some high expectations, no?"
"..."
No, the Military Police would much rather learn about the specifics of my powers… right? So why is Annie taking the interrogation this way? Why is she asking about my mom, my name, and what the life of a demigod is like? I mean—She doesn't believe in my story about Greek gods a wink, so why ask about the life of a demigod? What is Annie's motive?
"Should I come back another time? Tomorrow?" Annie asks, crossing her arms and giving me a cold stare. "I can wait as long as I need, all the while you sit alone with your thoughts, 'til the day you cave in or break."
My skin shivers at Annie's threat, nerves rekindled with alertness as my senses are reminded of Annie's dangerous aura. Locked in a room with a monster, that's what I am. A monster who controls my food intake, dictates my social interactions, and decides when I could be set free.
"You need to say something."
But even with this blatant power dynamic, our harsh prisoner and captor reality, why did I begin developing this false sense of friendship? Why am I seeking out a friendship? Am I too trusting? That desperate? Too… credulous, if that's the right word? I mean—is it wrong for me to try to look for the good in humanity? In her?
…
Mr. D, what is wrong with my head?
"Percy—"
"Fine!" I quickly cut Annabelle off, before she fill my mind with more bad advice.
"Bad advice!?"
"Being a demigod frickin sucks, ok? One day you're just living your life and the next thing you know, your math teacher turns into a demon and tries to kill you, your best friend takes off his pants and reveals he's half donkey, your mother gets kidnapped by a monster sent by your uncle, you learn your dad literally controls the universe, and you learn you only have 4 more years to live due to some stupid prophecy."
"...That was a lot to pack in..."
"Hopefully you can imagine how overwhelming it was, learning about my dad."
"What was that last part? About only having 4 years to live?"
"Well… I was told the average lifespan of a demigod is 16 years. A life of being hunted by monsters and being a pawn in the gods' games will do that to you. But to make it worse, I was also a part of some 'great prophecy' that implied I would die on my 16th birthday."
"It seems like that 'prophecy' was just a sham then," Annie comments on my very much alive status.
"No. It wasn't. Everyone thought it was talking about me, and some lines of the prophecy were about me, but the hero who died was Luke Castellan."
"…"
"A half-blood of the eldest gods
Shall reach sixteen against all odds
And see the world in endless sleep
The hero's soul, cursed blade shall reap
A single choice shall end his days
Olympus to preserve or raze."
"Is that it?"
"Yeah…"
"Prophecies aren't real."
"I thought the same, until I became a part of them… But I'm telling you, whatever the Oracle in my religion predicts always becomes true. Always. The lines of prophecy may have double meanings but no matter how hard you fight against them, they still happen…"
"Prove it."
"Huh?"
"Tell me tomorrow's prophecy, oh great seer." She challenges in the most monotone tone I've ever seen someone use in a playful jab.
"It doesn't work like that. I'm not an Oracle."
"…"
"…"
"A 'pawn in the god's games.' Is that how your dad saw you? As just a pawn?" Annie asks, switching topics.
"Every demigod has ADHD, Attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder, and dyslexia. At birth, every demigod instinctively knows how to swing a sword and how to read Ancient Greek, even when it's not our first language. Our brains are literally hardcoded to fight and live in the world of the Greek pantheon."
"I was lucky," I look down, inspecting the palms of my hands as I continue. "I know my dad loves my mother and loves me, but for most other demigods their birth is the result of a drunk night, spur of the moment, or a god just seeking pleasure. They give a mortal a child and forget about them. And once they remember—if they remember—they expect their kid to serve them. To be their agent in the mortal world, to spread their influence and interfere on their behalf when ancient laws prevent the god from doing so themselves."
"And most demigods, seeking recognition and love from the parents they never meet, fall into this trap. I certainly did... " I end on a somber tone.
When I look back up at Annie's face, a flash of familiarity runs across her face.
"I see…"
Then it hits me.
Annie can't be more than 15. How did she end up in the military? Where are her parents? And how could the people of this place allow children to serve in this setting? Someone closer to Wimpy's age should be the one interrogating me, not Annie. Annie should be out in school or having fun with friends, not working at a prison.
Is it… possible she feels the same way? Like a pawn in a bigger game? Do we have more in common than I believed?
"Do… Do you feel the same way? Like you were born to serve some power greater than yourself?"
Annie winces and immediately shakes her head in response as if trying to clear some thought out of her mind.
"No, not at all. I know my mission and I'm not going to let anything derail me from achieving it."
"Uhh, what mission?"
Annie gives me an almost death glare in response, letting me know that topic is forbidden for me to ask.
"... Fine, I won't ask." I relent.
We wait in silence, the only noise being the scribbling of pen on paper as Flynn finishes recording our discussion. I sip down another spoonful of soup. It's cooled down some but still warm enough to enjoy. The moment Flynn stops scribbling, Annie speaks again.
"You're in a better mood today. Back to your talkative self."
"Yeah, well, thanks for noticing, I guess."
"Done throwing your temper tantrum over your sword?"
"I told you, it wasn't like that.
"What brought about this change?"
"If you have to know, last night a visitor came to my cell. He helped me realize I was lost and that I needed to find myself a new purpose."
"A visitor?"
"Yeah, a visitor?"
"A visitor?"
"Ok, maybe he wasn't a visitor. I mean, he did try to kill me."
Annie turns to with a questioning look. Flynn puts down his pen and shrugs in response.
"What, you didn't know? I thought you guys sent him in to keep me on my toes?" I ask, filling my tone with sarcasm.
"No, they really don't know."
Huh?
"I wasn't made aware that the prisoner had other guests," Flynn tells Annie.
"Tobias! Noah!" Annie loudly calls out, unmoving her gaze from me. "Has the prisoner had any scheduled visitations?"
"No official visits were scheduled." Dumb announces from outside.
"Commander Dawk didn't inform us about any either," Dumber adds.
Oh, those must be their names.
"How many visited you? What did they look like?" Annie asks.
"It was just one guy. He was older, maybe around Flynn's age, and wore this black fedora hat and a trench coat. Said his name was Kenny."
"She knows him. Look!"
Annie's face pales in recognition and a little bead of sweat rolls down her cheek. Her pupils shrink silently as she stares off into some distant memory.
"She's… afraid."
"What did he do?" Flynn asks before Annie snaps back into it.
"I woke up with a knife pressed against my neck. We fought a little bit, he broke his blade, then we talked."
"I see…" Flynn pushes up his glasses, his eyes disappearing behind the glare of their lens. "Sounds like the interior police. Annie, we should drop this."
"Flynn stopped writing. He didn't record Kenny's name or description."
"What's the interior police?"
"Someone with higher credentials than the both of us." Flynn answers.
"Sorry, Percy." Annie apologies, rejoining our conversation. "We didn't know. We don't work with them."
"This interior police, they sound like bad news."
Yeah, Kenny certainly gave me that impression.
"It's worse than that. For the 'Military Police' to not know they visited you… They must be some sort of secret police, like the Gestapo."
That's… bad.
"Kenny had to have been ordered to kill you by someone higher than the Commander of the MPs. Someone like the king."
Great… So the king does have a vendetta against me.
"It's likely."
"Percy! Hello!" Annie shouts almost in my face.
"Huh?"
"I've been calling your name!"
"You have?"
"Look, just finish your meal so Flynn and I can get out of here. That'll be all for today."
If the King of this society has it out against me, do I have any chance of ever earning my freedom? Probably not. Telling the truth and complying with the Military Police can only get me so far, I need another plan.
Closing my eyes and reaching out my senses, I can feel water coursing through the plumbing whatever military complex I'm being held in. But none of the pipes run through the walls of my cell or in the hallway outside my door. They're too far away, close enough that I can still make them burst but in no position to help me escape my cell.
I need to figure out another way to break these chains.
Picking my bowl of soup, I tip its edge against my lips and drain the rest of its contents. It's unpleasantly cold, and the semi-dissolved potatoes make it feel like I'm slurping Nickelodeon slime, but it's still 100 times better than having nothing.
Licking my lips, I quickly down the cup of water Annie was able to provide and pick up what remains of my piece of bread. Scooting my empty bowl and tray over to Annie and giving her a nod, she picks it up and quietly makes her leave, once again leaving me in the solus of my cell.
With a full stomach and nothing else to do, all that's left is for me to try to enter Morpheus' realm to help pass the time.
…
…
"It's like The Mist."
Huh?
"You haven't had any demigod dreams in a while, have you?"
…You're right. Olympus above, yeah I haven't been having any demigod dreams, haven't I? I've been here, what, five days now? I mean—I've been thinking my whole banishment thing or whatever was like a quest, and demigod dreams always seem to spike up before and during quests. So I should've had one by now, shouldn't I have?
"Yeah, you should—and that's what I was saying. I think it's like The Mist."
Like, I'm not having dreams because Morpheus isn't around anymore?
"Precisely."
But wouldn't that mean no one in this world has dreams? Holy crap! Has no one in this world ever had a—
"No, you moron! People can still have dreams without Morpheus! But I think his presence—or lack thereof his presence—has a more profound effect on demigods, since demigods usually only have dreams of importance or prophetic visions in their sleep."
So, I'll never have another demigod dream again?
"Only time will tell."
Hmm.
…
You know, that wouldn't be so bad… Never having a demigod dream again.
"Yeah."
For the first time since… forever, I'm able to peacefully doze off in bed; gone are the thoughts that some ancient relative of mine would visit me in my sleep and show me the death and destruction of the places and people I love.
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Year 850: Percy's 6th Day in Prison
Annie's POV:
"*Sigh*"
Heated plumbing is truly one of the great marvels of man.
Scattered streams of water jetting from the showerhead spew down onto my head, parting my hair and massaging my scalp. The warm water running down my body is a feeling of bliss, cleansing my body of impurities both literally and metaphorically as it washes away sweat and grime and soothes my mind.
I shift the weight on my legs from one leg to the other, groaning at the soreness in my calves and thighs from last night's run.
There's a myth among titan biologists that titan shifters are unable to experience muscle deterioration due to their regenerative abilities. It's a false conception misled by the actuality that Marleyan titans train and serve in combat roles. A titan shifter can still get out of shape if they neglect their physical well being by not watching what they eat or spending periods of time without exercise. My sore legs are not only testament to how long it's been since my last proper workout, they also disprove the titan shifter muscle regression theory.
But I didn't go jogging last night to ameliorate my physical health, I needed to get out after learning about who visited Percy's cell.
It was the one time I had almost got caught. That day I was investigating a lead on a man with a trench coat and fedora rumored to be working by the order of the crown. In the 5 years I've spent on this hellish mission, that man almost ruined it all. He caught on to my espionage and confronted me and despite my best efforts, was able to avoid a killing strike, almost catching me as I had fled. Using the sewers to escape, I only managed to escape by the skin of my teeth, covered in devil shit and piss and frightened like a kid who broke their mother's vase.
The man who visited Perseus was the same guy. It had to be the same guy.
Although my heart still races at the thought of the encounter, I know my fear of it is irrational. I was in disguise—there's no way he would be able to recognize me—and it was a one-off skirmish almost a full year ago. That older man likely doesn't remember it at all. The encounter was a minute inconvenience for him, while the stakes were profound to me.
Shit, how long do I have to keep playing this game? When can I just go home?
Knowing I've spent far too long enjoying the pleasures of a heated shower, I reluctantly turn the knob of the shower into its off position. Any longer and I would have started pruning. Grabbing a towel I had left just outside the shower's cubicle, I tightly wrap the cloth around my body, securing it just above my breasts, and step out. Moving over to a mirror and sitting in a chair, I lean over and begin wringing my hair, twisting and squeezing my blonde locks to rid my head of its soaked liquid.
"Stop! You're damaging it!" A girl's voice screams.
I pause and turn around, immediately recognizing the girl by her brown, wavy, and tousled hair.
"Honestly, you're like a child." Hitch scolds, putting her hands on her hips. "You need to start learning how to take care of yourself."
She too is undressed but in a towel like me. Setting down the change of clothing she carries under her left arm, Hitch grabs a spare clean towel from a nearby rack.
"You're supposed to dry your hair like this." She explains, softly dabbing my head with the towel. "Gently. If you're too rough with it, you'll give yourself surface frizz and flyaways."
I flinch at first contact but force myself to ease into it as Hitch dabs my hair. Overreacting would bring attention to myself; this is a normal activity between friends. I have to act like it.
Softly humming as she presses the towel against my head, Hitch continues to dry my hair, taking my silence as a sign of permission. I never had any female figures in my life, the only one being Pieck who wasn't too much older but always seemed to be firmly fastened at Zeke's side. Having another girl around to do 'girly' stuff with, even though it's not my forte, is… nice.
"You don't normally visit the showers at these hours. What's up? You getting ready to see a boy or something?"
Even with my head down and eyes closed, I can practically feel her teasing grin on the back of my head.
"I am."
"N-no way! Who is it? Come on girl, tell me!"
"The prisoner. I'm scheduled to deliver him his meal in half an hour."
"You know that's not what I meant…" Hitch sighs.
Removing the towel from my head, Hitch pulls out a hairbrush, from who knows where. Once again on her own initiative, she begins combing my hair. As Hitch uses the brush to untangle and tidy up my locks, shivers of pleasure run down my spine from the bristles rubbing against my scalp.
Being groomed by another is oddly comforting.
"My first thought was that you were finally going to go out with that boy who keeps sending you letters."
"Reiner? No way."
"That's a shame. You know, he sent you another one today."
"He did?"
"Yeah, I went ahead and put it on your desk."
More intel on the Scouts. I better wrap things up and go take a look.
Softly pushing Hitch's hands away and letting out a meager "thanks", I move over to hangers where I stashed my clothes, dress myself, then head back towards our room. Sure enough, I arrive finding a white envelope placed on my desk. The paper edge of the envelope's flap and its wax seal has been cracked open. Either Hitch was too noisy or the Military Police checked my mail.
"Hey Annie, how's it going in the Military Police?
Today was our first day with the Scouts. We spent most of the day getting introduced to our superior officers and getting shown our barracks. I'm bunking with Bert and sharing a room with the rest of the 104th, everyone except Eren. Eren's being kept on a short leash by Captain Levi, who's shorter than what I expected 'Humanity's Strongest Warrior' to be.
Tomorrow they'll be rehashing our horseback skills, but what I'm most worried about is learning the Long Range Scouting Formation. Our officers said it was complex and difficult to learn. Not sure if they were just trying to scare us or if they were for real. I'll let you know.
Until the next time,
Reiner"
I was worried I had stomped out Reiner's remaining brain cells after Marcel had been eaten by that titan, but the letter sounds innocent enough. Reiner must have at least some cognition to not outright talk about our mission.
"I like your hair," Perseus says with a mouth full of bread.
That's right, Hitch had brushed it for me. I had forgotten to style my hair in my normal bun so I never had the chance to look at what Hitch had done to it through a mirror. Now in my mind, it feels unnatural, the way my hair tickles the back of my neck and rests on the top of my shoulders.
"Last session you mentioned you have some type of reading disorder. Are you illiterate?" I ask.
"No, I know how to read. I mean—I went to school. My mind just jumbles all the letters around as I try to read."
"You went to school?"
"Well, 'schools.' I had g-gotten kicked out of a few growing up…" Perseus sheepishly explains, his cheeks tinting pink from embarrassment.
That doesn't make sense.
"It was hard, switching schools so often." He continues. "Everyone else always had established friend groups and I was never around long enough to enter one or create my own. I always felt like an outcast."
"I thought you were poor."
"Huh?"
"I said I thought you were poor," I repeat, crossing my arms.
"I… was?"
"How many schools are we talking? Three? Four?"
"Uhhh… More like six in six years." Perseus admits, the redness in his face deepening in color.
"How could your family afford to send you to so many schools?"
"Ummm, I don't know—I mean—I don't understand what you're saying."
"The admission costs alone must have cost a fortune. Only rich, noble families should be able to afford that."
"Uhh, I don't think my mom ever paid for any admission costs—oh wait!" He yells as if a lightbulb had turned on in his head. "You see, where I'm from, schooling is free. At least, everything before college is free. They're funded by the government and everyone has to go to them."
Public schools funded by taxpayers' dollars aren't a foreign concept to me. Sure, the Liberio Internment Zone never had any, but I know of other cities in Marley that have them. But for free public schooling to be maintained and mandated throughout a whole nation?
"That would never work."
"What?"
"The costs to provide free education to that scale would be an enormous strain. The tax burden to sustain such measures would be unlivable."
"Well, my country made it work."
Preposterous. I've never heard of any state attempting such a feat.
"Free education would be a massive waste of resources. Not every person has the capabilities to become a doctor or a scholar."
"But don't you think every person should have the chance to become a doctor or a scholar?"
Not at all. Letting idiots into schools would degrade the educational system. Only the strong and smart should take part in it, just as the Warrior Candidate Program culls the weak.
"It's about giving people an opportunity, the chance to move up in the world," Perseus adds as if he's able to read my unsaid answer.
Every empire and nation preaches about freedom and opportunity, but they'll always turn around and spit at them in your face.
"Opportunity is pointless if there aren't enough positions. What happens when you already have enough doctors and scholars?" I counter. "Having educated, unemployed masses creates a situation rife with resistance and rebellion. Unless your government brainwashes students to have absolute loyalty to their state, which in consequence would further degrade the education at these schools, then your country is just asking for a civil war."
"I d-don't know if anything about propaganda—I never really thought about any of that—but everyone was mostly happy. Sure, people would protest about things every now and then, but I never heard anyone ever complain that there were too many doctors. And even though my mom and I grew up poor, we still had water, electricity, heat, and food on our table. So that must say something about my country, right?"
"What is your country?" I immediately ask, not giving him a moment to rest.
"America. The United States of America." He gulps.
"Never heard of it."
"Yeah, I thought so," Perseus replies with a look of disappointment on his face.
"Where did you say you were from again?"
"New York City," Perseus replies without a hitch.
He didn't hesitate, that's an issue.
"Can you describe your city in detail for me?"
"Uhhh, sure I guess." He says, picking up his bowl of soup and giving it an obnoxiously loud and long slurp. It's at times like these that I wish I followed Flynn's example and brought a chair. But I can't afford to relax. I can't let my guard down around a threat of his magnitude.
"For starters, there's the Statue of Liberty. It's this giant copper statue of women sitting on an island just outside the city. She wears this 5 pointed crown, holds a torch above her head in her right hand, has this 'book thingy' in her left hand that has the date of our country's independence—Oh, she's all green! Because of copper with oxygen over time and stuff!"
"She's an icon of freedom and the United States and a symbol of welcome to all immigrants arriving from overseas."
If it's a symbol for his country, why haven't I heard of it?
"Does your city receive a lot of immigration?"
"Yeah, loads. The United States is the melting pot of the world, and New York is right at the center of it. 8.8 million people of all different types of shapes, sizes, colors, and roots of origins. You won't find a more diverse place on Earth." He says with a smile full of pride.
Is New York a part of the Mid-East Allied Forces, the conglomeration of nations that banded together in opposition of Marley? Is Eldian not Perseus' first language and 'United States' was just a name for the Mid-East Alliance that was lost in translation?
No. Not a chance. I've never heard of a city with a giant green statue of a lady as its icon. Not a city as large as Perseus claims. I wouldn't miss that.
"And where is New York City located?"
"Uhhh, well it's in North America on the East Coast… The city is divided into 5 major boroughs. Queens and Brooklyn are on Long Island, Staten Island is all by itself, and Manhattan and the Bronx are on the mainland. Or, I guess technically Manhattan is sorta an island of his own."
None of these terms are familiar.
"Long Island?"
"Uhh—Yeah, Long Island."
"Staten Island?"
"Uh-huh." Perseus nods.
"Manhattan Island?"
"Umm, not really." He shakes his head. "We just call it Manhattan."
"To travel between these Islands, you must have some sort of Maritime Transportation System in place."
"Uhh, yeah I guess. We have ferries and stuff."
"And to protect the sovereignty of these islands, you must have a Navy."
"Yeah, we do—Although I don't really see where you're going with this…"
"Will you share the details of your Navy?"
"Uhhhh…yeah?"
Hesitation?
"I think we had somewhere over 400 ships: Destroyers, cruisers, aircraft carriers, amphibious assault ships, attack submarines, ballistic missile submarines, littoral combat ships, mine countermeasure ships, patrol boats… You know, the whole shebang. I don't have the exact numbers, sorry." He sheepishly finishes.
"That's quite the force."
Aircraft carriers? Ballistic missile submarines? What on earth… How far has technology progressed since I landed on this damn island?
"My country was pretty big on controlling the sea. And well, you know what they say: All water flows into the ocean."
"Sorry, I'm not following. What's this 'sea' and 'navy' thing you were both discussing?" Flynn speaks up, lifting his eyes from his notepad.
"Oh good, I thought I was the only one." Noah, one of the guards stationed outside Perseus' cell comments to my dismay.
You're not a part of this, keep your mouth shut.
"Come on, stop kidding around!" Perseus laughs. "Don't tell me you've never heard about the sea!"
"They haven't," I answer for them.
"No way! You must be joking—" Perseus trails off, noticing my unwavering stance and Flynn's confused face.
"Tell them what it is." I give Perseus the go-ahead.
"The sea is… like a big saltwater lake. It's so large you can spend days traveling across it without seeing any land."
"You're making this up, such a lake could never exist." Flynn objects. "Merchants would have swooped up all the salt centuries ago."
"That's the thing. The sea is so large, hundreds of thousands of merchants could dedicate their entire lives scooping out its salt but it'll never run out. Our Earth is 70% covered in water. We have less land than there is the sea."
"And what's a navy?"
"A navy is a part of the military, but it's a branch for the sea. So a Navy is basically everyone deployed at sea on boats—boats that have guns."
The Mid-East Alliance's navy is considered the most powerful in the world. Whereas Marley dominated on land with the power of the 9, Mid-Eastern's built up their fleets, peskily interfering with water transportation routes when conflicts between our empires arose.
At this point, the Mid-East Alliance is the most likely candidate for Perseus' host country. With the alleged diversity of Perseus' hometown, the 'United States' has some name-bearing semblance to the coalition of nations that the Mid-East Alliance consists of, and with the clear naval focus and might of Perseus' 'acclaimed' nation, there can be no other candidate. However…
Why am I unable to conclude he comes from the Mid-East Alliance with a resolute and absolute certainty?
"Ms. L-Leonhart, how were you informed about all… of this?" Flynn stutters.
"I stumbled upon some documents over these topics in the archives." I mouth without missing a beat. "Perseus had mentioned the sea before. I thought it was best to inform myself so I could follow along and facilitate the conversation should the topic arise."
"A-aren't… I thought books about the o-outside world were illegal?" Flynn asks.
"One of the perks of being in the Military Police." But Flynn still looks unconvinced with my claim.
"Don't spread what you heard here today. We don't want any problems, do we?"
Flynn's eyes widen in a fearful realization. He might be my senior in age and experience, but he isn't a soldier sworn to enforce order and his majesty's law.
"Y-yes ma'am!"
But while Flynn ceases his inquiry, Perseus' eyes are filled with curiosity. Curiosity turns to suspicion, or some form of critical thinking when he squints his eyes and observes me. My body heats up under his stare, not out of shy embarrassment, but with a heavy sense of dread. He's not going to expose me—call me a titan again, is he? He's just a prisoner, everyone's been led to believe there's something wrong with his head. no one would listen to him, right? A bead of sweat drips down the back of my neck and gets absorbed into my untied hair as Perseus opens his mouth…
Then he closes it, letting the topic go.
I'm only just able to catch my sigh of relief before it passes through my lips.
"I told you to call me Percy." He ends up mumbling to himself.
I have everything I need to identify this city Perseus claims to come from; all I can do now is wait to pass this information on to the War Chief. He's more knowledgeable about geography—the War Chief should be able to identify it as long as Perseus didn't just pull these descriptions out of his ass.
Perseus raises his bowl of soup and takes a sip. But he tips the bowl a little too far, causing the soup to spill past the side of his lips and drip off his chin. He panics, quickly setting the bowl down, and frantically tries to catch the dripping into his open palms.
Is he really just some doofus? Or is it all part of some clever act?
Everything seems to point to the former, especially as I watch him lick his palms clean of soupy broth.
Cleaned, he moves his shackled hands towards his cup of water. As he raises its rim to his lips, I call out to him.
"Wait."
"Hmm?"
"Show me."
He slowly lowers the cup.
"What?"
"The water. Show me."
"M-Ms. Leonhart!" Flynn cries. "You can't be serious!"
"No one besides the Scouts has seen you do it. I need to confirm your 'water kinesis' abilities."
"Annie!" Flynn cries again. "Don't you think we should… we should..."
Flynn cuts himself off as the water in Perseus' cup begins to move. Placed back on the food tray, the liquid begins to ripple without assistance. The water in the center of the cup begins to pool together, raising the center while taking away from the edges. It continues to do so until a wriggling mass of water collects in a messy sphere suspended in the air.
I rub my eyes to check that they're still working. Then do it again to double-check.
"Amazing." I breathe in awe.
Memorized, I watch the sphere float around the room. It's like a bubble, the way it seems to float weightlessly in the air, but I know the ball isn't made of a soapy substance or has a hollow interior.
"Eek!" Flynn shrieks, sinking into his chair as the ball floats close to him. As the sphere returns to Perseus, I raise a finger and run it through the ball as it glides past. It's damp and cold. I rub my pointer finger against my other dry indexes to confirm if it had gotten wet.
Yeah, it's water.
"How? How do you control it?" I ask.
"It's not water's nature to be controlled. Sure, you can keep it contained in something like a cup," He says, picking up the water and catching the ball of water within it. "But it's also moving. And if there's a crack…" He presses the cup together, splintering its wooden sides and causing the water to gush out. "You can't tell it to not come out."
The streams pour out of the cup curve mid-air, converging together to reform into a single mass. It only takes a few seconds for the bubble of water to regain its glory.
He places the now ruined cup down on the food tray.
"But you can control it, right?"
"Yeah, I can. But it's harder to force water to stop moving and conform into a shape than it is to manipulate the way it flows. Do you get what I mean?"
I take a closer look at the floating ball of water. It seems like Perseus is trying to create a sphere, but the ball's edges are bumpy and wriggling. Inside the mass, I can see little trails of bubbles spinning around in a circular motion. He isn't simply picking up the water and shaping it into a ball, he's manipulating the flow of the water molecules—in a way that somewhat shapes it into a sphere and keeps it afloat.
"I do. I can see it."
"Wow, you catch on fast!"
"Can you make other shapes?"
Perseus makes the mass transform: from a sphere into an octahedron, an octahedron into a cube, a cube into a pyramid, a pyramid into a star, then finally back into a sphere. The more complicated the shape becomes, the less defined its borders become. When he shapes it into a star, the star's points are little more than wiggling tentacular points.
The longer he floats the ball, the shakier it becomes. I can't see or can't tell what muscle Perseus is flexing to control the water—or if he uses a muscle at all—but if he did, it too must be quivering from overexertion.
The sphere loses its shape, becoming a stream of water as Perseus decides to move the water. The water slithers up to Perseus' lips and flows directly into his open maw. He swallows then lets out a gasp of satisfaction.
"Phew!" Perseus exclaims, wiping his brow.
"What else can you do with it?"
"Uhh, well I can sense where water is."
"Can you sense any water right now?"
"Yeah, I can." Perseus lifts his shackled hands, pointing them at the ceiling. "The building's plumbing, I can feel the water running through its pipes."
"Can you control it, being this far deep?"
"No, I can't." He answers, lowering his hands.
I can't take his word on that. If he claims to be able to sense it, then it might still be within his reach.
"What about temperature? Could you have made that cup boil by increasing the speed at which water molecules randomly maneuver?"
"Uhhhh… I never thought about that before."
"Don't give him ideas!" Flynn shrieks.
"And what about slowing down the molecules to create ice? Can you do that?"
"No, I can't. Yeah, I can't do either of those things."
"Why not?"
"Those aren't my father's domains. Sure, ice is technically water, but the Greek pantheon already has a goddess of ice. Her name's Khione. I think that's why I can't freeze water or control ice—and I have tried controlling ice cubes before. Since demigods somewhat inherit a part of their parent's domains, and since gods aren't able to infringe on domains that aren't their own, that has to explain why I can't do it."
"And boiling water? Is there a god or goddess for that?"
"Well… No, there isn't. But changing the temperature of stuff was never my dad's thing, you feel?"
Again, I shouldn't take his word on this, but his claims at being unable to control ice or boil water seem more valid. I shouldn't have to worry about him splashing a cup of boiling water into my face or stabbing me with a sharp ice pick—Or, I shouldn't have to worry any more than the chance Perseus can burst pipes through meters of solid stone.
"That covers it for today," I tell Perseus while giving Flynn a nod to let him know it's time to go.
"Oh, ok." Perseus frowns.
It seems he's grown to like these little sessions of ours. I don't blame him either, it's his sixth day in solitary confinement after all. Sitting in a cramped dark room almost 24/7 now with restrained appendages and being chained to the wall, it's no wonder the guards reported Perseus talking to himself. He must be bored out of his mind.
"Wait! Umm, before you go!" Perseus calls out just as I begin turning my shoulders.
"Next time could you maybe bring me a book to read? One with lots of pictures would be nice—since I have dyslexia and all." He sheepishly explains, blushing when he realizes basically just asked for a children's book.
This—It's moments like these that keep causing me to second guess myself. If this is all part of his cunning plot or if this is just his true self.
"Sure, I'll see what I can do," I answer.
Appeasement has kept him talking so far, and a soft cover children's book wouldn't do any harm.
And aren't gods supposed to enjoy propitiation?
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This chapter was 8.4k words long.
Did you guys notice the timestamps I provided? I went back and added timestamps for older chapters as well…
I really enjoyed writing Annie's interactions with Hitch, I thought it was adorable. If you couldn't tell, that whole scene was inspired by Annie's Lost Girl's OVA episode. It is always surprising to see AOT fans who've never seen the OVAs. Like, how can you have Eren Jaeger as your profile picture but you've never seen the 2 part special on how Levi joined the Scouts? Seriously, if you're reading an Attack on Titan fanfiction and you haven't watched the OVAs, what are you doing? Go watch them!
A little more from Annie's POV this chapter too. Some people had left reviews being displeased with the POV switches but come on y'all, this arc would be so boring if it was just from Percy's perspective. Anyway, I hope you can see what I was doing with how Annie perceives Percy's story; how she's not taking Percy's words at face value and is trying to fit them into her perceived notions.
I did my best to make it exciting but I know it might seem trivial. Still, I think it's better than the "for the next month we talked all about this and that…." thing I did before. Yeah, there'll still be a timeskip, but it won't be as sudden/drastic as it was before.
Discord:
I frequently see other authors running discord servers for their fanfiction stories; is that something people would be interested in? It would most definitely be a better medium to share progress reports of my story and interact with you all. I could post little updates on it whenever I'm working on my story. Then again, I have no idea if people actually give that much of a shit, lol. I've never joined one of these servers, even with my favorite fanfics, so that's saying something. But hey, if there's a demand maybe I'll try it out. So yeah, let me know.
Till next time,
-Unbred
Stats for nerds: 31,876 views, 620 follows, 497 favorites, 302 reviews
Originally Published on 10/15/2021