After Capture the Flag, things in Camp began to steadily become more tense. People avoided Percy, sometimes shooting him venomous glares, sometimes eyeing him with fear. The mere appearance of the hellhound in their haven, regardless of how quickly it was dispatched, seemed to have disturbed the other campers. They weren't used to feeling unsafe in their home. Percy knew better.
No fortress was infallible, no bunker impenetrable. There was no place safe from those with enough power and determination, a sentiment Percy was intimately familiar with. How could he not be, when one of his greatest enemies was the driving force behind his place of refuge? To think, all that time, he had let his guard down, while just above him… Watching. Waiting.
Regardless, the campers seemed to blame Percy for the newfound turmoil. Then again, they weren't exactly wrong. The hellhound had specifically targeted him, the Son of Poseidon. Something like this had never happened to a child of the other Olympians, except for the Daughter of Zeus, Thalia. It was clear that, between these two stories, children of the Big Three were bad omens.
Percy did not mind the silence. Rather, he was more uncomfortable with the murmuring and muttering that followed him. The subtle noises reminded him of the voices that would filter through the streets of Yharnam, the ramblings of the mad citizens as they looked for more beasts to slay, minds so addled by blood they thought he was a monster. His first few encounters with the Yharnamites were… Less than pleasant. He'd attempted to communicate with them, but it seemed to only alarm them, the idea that a beast could have any sort of sentience beyond its base instincts. They struck him down with impunity dozens of times, ignoring his pleas of mercy. Blasting holes through his head, shearing him into pieces with ragged metal, covering him in glistening oil and orange flame and watching him burn. His screams echoed through Yharnam so often that they became embedded into the cobblestones underfoot. Occasionally, Percy would stop, tilt his head, and listen. During these moments, he could sometimes hear his own death throes, bouncing around the gothic architecture. Memories of a time that was long past- or perhaps, a time that had never even happened. Still, the experience stuck with him, and he hardened his heart.
Not enough, apparently.
Percy became tenser as the days went on, jumping at shadows, hallucinating in the dead of night. He began to have dreams of a beach. It was not the beach outside his cabin, overlooking Long Island Sound. Percy had no clue where it was. He stood on the yellow sands, staring out over the sea, when clouds would suddenly roll over the waves, darkening the sky. Rain poured, thunder flashed, and two men appeared on the beach. They wore traditional Greek tunics. One was trimmed in the same sea green as Percy's eyes, and the other was a pale sky blue.
The men rushed each other, meeting midway in a fierce battle of fists. With every blow that connected, the world rocked as lightning fell from the heavens, and the ground underneath him trembled. It was as if nature was at war with itself- something that would likely only happen if his father and uncle, Poseidon and Zeus, were to engage in combat. Why, though, would they be fighting?
Over the screaming winds and roaring waves, Percy could barely make out the words shouted by who he presumed was Zeus. "Thief! Return it to me!"
Zeus believed Poseidon stole something from him. What, though, could be so important that such a powerful being would risk the integrity of the world itself just to have it back safely in hand?
Every time, these dreams would end with the sands falling into a chasm that grew before his very eyes, a deep gouge in the earth that dropped into an endless void. A crooning voice would echo up from the depths of hell, laughter sounding like the grating of a steel blade on stone.
"Come down, little hero! Return from whence you came, Good Hunter!"
Percy bolted upright in his bed, panting heavily, heart beating like a jackhammer in his chest. Sweat beaded on the back of his neck, dripping down his back to be soaked up by his shirt. Shaking his head, Percy swung his feet over the edge of the bed, slipping on his shoes. It was never wise to return to sleep after a nightmare, lest it pick up where it ended.
Outside Cabin Three, far in the distance, the sky rumbled. A storm was coming, charged with arcane energy. Instantly, Percy knew that this storm would pierce the Camp's protective barrier.
Walking to the front door of the cabin, Percy pulled it open, and stopped cold. There, on the floor of his porch, was a newspaper. The headline was circled by a black marker.
30-YEAR OLD SALLY JACKSON FOUND MURDERED IN HER APARTMENT!
It took hours for Percy to properly read through and digest the article, getting lost in thought every third word. When he finally pulled his head away from the paper, it was light outside, the sun hanging nearly directly over his head. Percy rose to his feet, and was halfway across Camp before he even realized what he was doing. After he did realize, he just moved faster.
It took mere minutes to reach the Big House and slam open the front door, thoroughly surprising Chiron, Annabeth, and Grover. Mr. D seemed to have expected him, however. Percy ignored their reactions, slapping down the newspaper in front of the old horse, oriented so he would be able to read the title clearly.
"The gods exist. Hades exist. Therefore, the Underworld exists. How do I get there?"
Chiron paled dangerously, as if all the blood in his body had vanished at once. He swallowed hard, releasing a shuddering breath, before finally speaking. "Perseus, you do not know what you are asking for."
"I understand it perfectly."
"No, you do not. No demigod has ever traveled to the Underworld and managed to successfully retrieved the soul of one under the control of Hades. Hercules, Houdini, Orhpeus- many have tried, and all have failed. Several of those heroes died themselves, trapped within the Underworld alongside the one they tried to rescue!"
"They are not me."
"Are you suggesting that you, an adolescent with less than a month of formal training, are better than the heroes of old?"
"Not better. Different."
"All the differences in the world would not change the fact that Hades is a god, and you are a mere mortal!" Percy's temper finally reached its breaking point. He slammed his fists on the table, cracking the wood and leaving circular imprints.
"Do not play games with me, Chiron!" Percy shouted. "My mother is in hell because that fat bastard decided his car was more important than her life!"
"Alright, that's enough of that," Mr. D interjected. With a simple flick of his hand, vines sprouted from between the floorboards, growing long enough to wrap around Percy's wrists and yank his hands backwards.
"You…" Percy growled, straining against his bonds. The well of arcane energy within him opened to the world, and the Big House began to groan as it took hold of the liquid in the pipes. In the kitchen, the knobs for all the faucets shot off, water forcing its way through. Mr. D waved his hand once more, instantly repairing all the damage, as well as repressing Percy's powers. A pressure began to build within the boy's chest, pushing against his lungs and forcing his breath out, leaving him winded.
"Mr. D!" Chiron cried, horrified.
"Calm down, you old horse. I haven't done anything to the boy- just restrained him."
"Whatever you've done, it is hurting him!" Chiron gestured to Percy, whose skin was beginning to steam, splotchy red patches surfacing on his fair skin.
"That's the boy's fault for channeling more godly energy than his body can handle," Mr. D said casually, waving away the accusation. "Although I must admit, it is a fairly impressive amount for a young demigod. Almost on par with a few of the weaker minor gods. It'll be interesting to see what he becomes in a few years."
"Release him now!" Chiron roared, standing his wheelchair and taking on his centaur form.
Mr. D narrowed his eyes. "I do so hope that wasn't a threat, Chiron."
"It is whatever it needs to be, Dionysus. Release the boy."
God and centaur stared each other down from their vastly different heights. Meanwhile, across the table, bumps began erupting across Percy's body as his blood boiled, a crimson vapor seeping out of his eyes, mouth, and nose. Finally, just when Annabeth and Grover thought Percy would combust into flames, Mr. D sighed and looked away from Chiron. He snapped his fingers, and his powers receded.
Instantly, a shockwave burst out of Percy's body, the energy rushing out, leaving hundreds of small cuts on the way. Annabeth and Grover were thrown to the ground, chairs toppled over, while Chiron had to step back to prevent being kneecapped by the flung table. Mr. D just let everything wash over the protective field he had instinctively manifested.
Percy fell to the ground, knees digging into the warped wood beneath him. The sudden explosion had cratered the floor, leaving him on unsteady ground with unsteady feet. It was impossible for him to stand. Still, he attempted just that, blood mist seeping out of every pore, liquid blood leaking from the numerous cuts. His scowl was still in place, however, pure rage cleaving through all the pain to be the dominant emotion.
"You… You will… Pay," Percy uttered, before collapsing onto his side, releasing a rattling breath before finally going still.
Chiron ran around the table, as best as he could with his increased height and the demolished floor. He knelt down, checking the boy's pulse and breathing. They were surprisingly strong, but he could feel them getting weaker by the second.
"Annabeth, Grover, get Perseus to the Apollo Cabin!"
"I wouldn't do that if I were you- injecting more godly energy would hardly improve this situation, would it?"
"Then… To the beach. He is Poseidon's son; the water will heal him."
Annabeth and Grover did as asked, still silent from shock. Luckily, though, they weren't unresponsive. Annabeth looped her arms under Percy's, while Grover grabbed his legs. They lifted him from the pool of blood he had been laying in, ignoring the way it leaked onto their fingers, dripping down the digits to stain their arms. Instead, they moved as quickly as they could.
Percy woke to a pleasant coolness surrounding him, almost lulling him back to sleep. It was only through sheer willpower that he managed to open his eyes. What he saw stunned him. A myriad of colors floated over him, beams from the evening sun shattering into a rainbow when they struck the waves above him. The water rippled ever so slightly, distorting his vision into a kaleidoscope, more intriguing than disorienting.
Percy breathed in deeply, and was only marginally surprised when he didn't begin drowning. It seemed he was his father's son after all.
He shifted his hand, bringing it up to his face, twisting it this way and that. He marveled at the way the refracted light swirled around him, only broken from his silent reverie when something nudged his shoulder. He twisted upright and around, and found himself looking at a familiar face. The same angular features, twisted dark locks, and ocean-blue eyes...
"Mom!?" he cried, floating backwards in shock. The woman merely shook her head, a somber smile painted across her face.
"I am afraid not, young lord. I am merely a nereid in the court of your father. He sends me with a message." She didn't move her mouth when she spoke, and Percy belatedly realized that he had not, either. Telepathy, it seemed. Likely because sound did not travel well underwater.
"...I see," Percy said, unable to completely mask the disappointment in his thoughts. "What is his message?"
"Lord Poseidon wishes you to know that he does care for you, even if he is not able to show it. Due to the Ancient Laws, he could not appear before you while you lived amongst the mortals. Now, even though you are in the world of the gods, the tension between him and his brother continues to hinder him. He fears that to visit you now would spark Lord Zeus' temper, sending Olympus into war."
"My uncle believes Father has stolen something from him, yes? What is that thing?"
The nereid's eyebrows rose. "You are well informed, young lord."
"I had a dream, just last night. Two men, whom I believe were my father and my uncle due to their control over the weather and sea, were fighting on a beach. The one who seemed to be Zeus called the other a thief. What could be so important that they would battle so fiercely?"
The nereid nodded in understanding. "Prophetic dreams. A natural occurrence for many demigods. The object in question is Lord Zeus' Master Bolt."
Percy narrowed his eyes. "Master Bolt? But, my uncle is the Lord of the Sky. Is lightning not naturally a part of his domain?"
"It is, but the Master Bolt is Lord Zeus' symbol of power; forged by the Elder Cyclopes, it allows him to concentrate his godly abilities into a burst of power shaped like a lightning bolt. The power is… Immense. With it, Lord Zeus single-handedly sheered off the top of Mount Othrys, destroying the palace of the Titans in one blow."
"That… Sounds like something dangerous to be laying about."
"Indeed. That is why Lord Zeus is so anxious to have it returned; there is no telling what havoc it will wreak in the wrong hands."
"And he believes Father has it?"
"Well…" the nereid trailed off sheepishly.
"He doesn't have a valid reason, does he."
The nereid shook her head. Percy sighed through his nose, the bubbles tickling his face on their way up to the surface.
"How poor is their relationship? I expect it to be strained over the years- the incident with the Golden Net comes to mind- but for my uncle to jump to such wild accusations with the fate of the world at stake…"
"There are other factors at play, young lord. Do not assume that the Lord of the Sky is completely irrational," she reprimanded. Percy conceded the point.
"Then, what other factors are there?"
The nereids eyes went blank for a moment. They snapped back to focus near-instantly, but Percy was able to glimpse the fading of her pupils.
"I apologize, young lord, but I am not at liberty to say. Lord Poseidon is calling to me, so we must end our meeting here."
Percy nodded, then realized something. "Wait!" The nereid turned back to him from where she was ready to swim away. "How do I return to the surface?" he asked.
The nereid smiled gently. "The ocean is yours to control, young lord. Will it, and it shall be. Farewell, Perseus."
Percy watched as she vanished into the currents of the depths, then turned his sight to the sky above. He thought about moving upwards, and was pleased when the water responded. He reached down to the well of arcane energy within him, and was surprised to see that it had become exponentially larger. So large, he couldn't even sense the far reaches of it… Actually, it seems like it hadn't grown. Rather, the metaphysical walls which had restrained it seemed to have dissolved, merging his personal energy with that of the sea, making them into one. He was truly a Son of the Sea, and the realization filled him with euphoria.
This… This was where he belonged. Not in the mortal world, surrounded by filth like Gabe. Not in Camp Half-Blood, surrounded by those who, while like him, could not have been more different. And most definitely not in the blood-stained streets of Yharnam, surrounded by the beasts which he nearly became. Yet, he knew that he would never be able to settle here. He would be restless, looking for something, anything to do that would bring him a step closer to true freedom.
Even now, Percy still felt like a prisoner of the Dream. Space and time were trivial to the Great Ones, and though he may have struck down the Moon Presence, it was not truly dead, if the reincarnation of Amygdala was to be believed. Remnants of the Dream loomed over him, invading his mind, reminding him that his nightmare would never truly be over until he found the Moon Presence in this new world, and made sure to extinguish it.
He could only be free when the world was drowned in pale blood.