The world is ending. Alone but still defiant, Percy Jackson pens down one last letter while he still can.
I am not good with this stuff, saying goodbyes, writing diaries and all. It's not even just the dyslexia, I just never know what to write. This seems more like mum's or Annabeth's forte. But dad apparently wanted me to write one and after everything the old man has done for me, I felt like I should at least give him this much.
Honestly, it probably started before I was even born.
Concurrence, they call it. It's not even Greek. More universal. Or so Nekhbet told me.
Apparently it was destined that there will come a period when all the creatures alive that have ever walked the Earth shall walk it again. Unfortunately, it does not include good faded deities like Pan. Which is disheartening. Cuz I did ask, but nope, too much to hope for.
It does however include creatures like Typhon, titans like Kronos, primordials like Gaia and oh, every virus and disease and creature that could have been. I had been kinda blown away by the number of genuine world-ending prophecies around me, but it's been like that since I was like, 12. I figured the Fates just really liked me or just really hated me or something.
But nope, apparently the world does not revolve around me. Kind of a bummer. Because really, after everything, the least I should have are bragging rights that the Fates hated me so much they almost brought around the end of the world several times just to mess with me.
Anyway, so after all the Wars, the world pretty much went to hell. And trust me, I know hell, I have gone through it. What's worse is that it happened after my freaking exams. Like dude, I would have been super okay with the world ending before that. Just kidding. Or am I?
Okay, let's get serious now.
This isn't an easy time for me. And I don't wanna talk about it really.
But um, the cliff notes go something like this, titans and giants defeated, one Norse Ragnarok averted, one whatever-the-hell was up with Egyptians cooled down and the scariest one, exams studied and given. And after that, it just suddenly descended into chaos.
Men and women suddenly started dying left and right. Some died in the streets, waiting for hospitals and urgent care, some got mobbed and stampeded in malls and essential stores, some decayed in their homes. The silent call of Pestilence descended as one of the worst creatures in modern mythology rose from the grave. Some of them magically turned into zombies. Yep, Pestilence took inspiration from pop culture to deliver to the truest nerds around. Swell guy all around.
Unsurprisingly, he was killed pretty soon after that and thrown back into whatever pit he managed to crawl from. There is always a crazy enough guy with a good enough sharp pointy weapon. Usually it's me. This time it wasn't me.
Didn't seem to matter though. The damage was done.
After Pestilence came his uglier brother, Famine. Guess what happens when there are millions dead on the streets with no-one to work and no-one to stock food supplies? Yep, we had an amazing awesome food shortage. And those peeps dead on the streets? Yeah, they became some people's food supply. I know, yuck.
And it's easy to say that when you've had a cushioned life where the worst you've ever had to do is miss a few meals. But when you're watching your family thin and die, when you see your own kids become this hollow shadow of themselves, it stops mattering a little less.
Now I never had to go that far personally. I have a little more survival skills than the average Joe. But it wasn't easy. And while, I certainly would never recommend or condone going for it, I sort of understood where they were all coming from. (Back then anyway. Now they have gone from being vultures and scavenger to cannibals who hunt for food now that even those reserves have gone down and I can certainly never get that)
Of course, Death was pretty much universal here.
And this was just the Christian omens. I saw many others. Worse ones. Things that still haunt my waking moments, screams of the countless living, and the walking dead who can never find peace. They walk beside me in my dreams, never ceasing their ever-ending symphonies to join them.
Which brings me to the actual crux of the problem.
I can't go to the Underworld. A simple enough issue, not nearly startling enough. It's not like I spend a lot of time down there anyway, despite what my dear Uncle might complain about. But nope, I can't go there even if I am dead. Which is an issue.
See, the thing is nobody realized what was happening. It's not like anybody looked at the state of the world and went, yup, it's a disaster, time for the Concurrence is nigh. It just doesn't happen. You don't believe the highly improbably pessimist thing. It's just the power of the very natural survival extinct called denial. And the world lived in denial long enough for it to end.
And just like that, anyone with an exit route and anyone to protect ran that way.
The rich barricaded themselves in their homes (not that it worked, money is useless except as a fire building material which was a novel feeling for me, so yay me), the middle classes reached for their kids and their keys and the poor reached for their survival instincts. And the gods did the only thing they could: they grabbed whatever and whomever they could and locked their domains. Tight.
Unlike the fiasco with the Giant War catastrophe, I even get it. Zeus didn't order a lockdown, it was a natural protection instinct for most gods. Apparently my dad opened the gates to Atlantis for the briefest time possible, grabbing everyone from CHB as was possible in the very limited time constraints he had.
The Concurrence isn't just about deities and disasters. It's about monsters too. Ancient scary ones that can probably topple gods. Maybe. No-one knows what all is coming, except that it's bad. This was unchartered territory.
So yeah, I get it. Dad has to protect the Atlanteans too. He is a king, not just a god. I am just grateful he chose to grab the campers from CHB first. It's one worry off my back. Annabeth will be safe. So will the rest. And I am even more grateful that he made the impossible choice that I couldn't have ever made.
There wasn't time to do everything, he had the choice to either save the camp…or come protect me. I am pretty sure nobody could have said anything to him if he had chosen the latter. I would have screamed and yelled but I would have been safe. And unhappy. Deeply worried and confused. And so he chose the option that gave me peace.
And I know he made that choice, because he even sent Nekhbet to me as a last resort before he shut his doors completely.
Tell him I am so sorry, I didn't have the time to take him too, my poor darling son, but they are all safe now. Tell him that. At least let him be at peace.
I have always admired my father, had a decent relationship with him. He is kind and he tries to be respectful of our boundaries and he just gets me in a way no-one else does. In return, I like to think I have been an understanding son, never demanding more time from him than he can give. But despite it all, I never expected a god to have the capacity to be this selfless. To save the children of his rivals and other random gods over his own favorite son, just for the sake of my mental peace.
It's given me more strength than I expected to be honest.
I know the Underworld is locked down and I can never go to Elysium now, not until this shit ends and that could take centuries for all I know. It's not like anyone has seen one before. I'll probably be given to some other underworld. The thought is scary in a visceral way. Like so many other mortals, I too don't know where I'll be going when I die now.
But I can take it. I think. I am going to go find mom and Paul. They were in San Francisco for a meeting when the world crashed down. I hope they are okay. They have to be okay. It's a long, long journey there. I don't have many supplies. But I'll make it. I have an edge over the rest of the world. I am after all, the son of Poseidon. And if they can survive, so can I.
When the world is ready, when the Concurrence has purged it, we will rebuild it anew, Nekhbet had promised me before she faded away.
Till then, I'll be traveling. I've heard of some hunters around. Gods who never made it to their homes or didn't want to, chasing monsters down to cut the numbers. Mortals with supernatural talents. Men and women from different pantheons coming out of the shadows. I think I'll join them. Do what I can to help out.
I'm leaving this note here, for the next soul to find and take heart from. I hope no-one finds it. I hope it stays here, collecting dust till the end of Concurrence till my father or some friendly god comes to check it out and they see I didn't lose hope, not even once. I hope Aunt Hestia is proud of me.
Forever with love,
Percy Jackson
