Chapter 17:
The Mist really did screw up a normal human's perception of all the 'mythical' things that go on in the world. Seriously, Percy beat himself up about the whole way back to New York. Markus was just thankful for the work Hecate put in with it.
Thank you, boss!
But before that, they had a little fun with the reporters, who told them what they thought had happened.
According to the L.A. news, the explosion at the Santa Monica beach had been caused when a crazy kidnapper fired a shotgun at a police car. He accidentally hit a gas main that had ruptured during the earthquake.
This crazy kidnapper (a.k.a. Ares) was the same man who had abducted Percy, Markus, and two other adolescents in New York and brought them across country on a ten-day odyssey of terror.
Poor little Percy Jackson and Markus Henderson weren't international criminals after all. Percy had caused a commotion on that Greyhound bus in New Jersey trying to get away from their captor (and afterwards, witnesses would even swear they had seen the leather-clad man on the bus). The crazy man had caused the explosion in the St. Louis Arch. After all, no kid could've done that. Markus didn't even need to use the Mist. Guess humans only believe what they want to see.
Then that waitress in Denver had seen the terrible man threaten the young abductees outside the diner she worked at. Finally, brave Percy Jackson and Markus Henderson had stolen a gun from their captor in Los Angeles and battled him shotgun-to-rifle and shotgun on the beach.
Police had arrived just in time. But in the spectacular explosion, five police cars had been destroyed and the captor had fled. No fatalities had occurred. Both boys and th were safely in police custody.
The reporters fed the questers the whole story. They just nodded and acted tearful and exhausted (which wasn't hard), and played victimized kids for the cameras. The crowd was eating it all up. Markus used his 'superb' acting skills to gain sympathy points with the crowd.
They were especially sympathetic as Markus described the terrorist who attacked them in great deal. Percy couldn't stop laughing at that part.
Percy gave a moving speech about his gross step-dad and said that the man would give free appliances if enough people rallied money for them to get a plane ride back to New York.
Takeoff was a nightmare for Percy and Markus, and turbulence was just as bad. Markus was thinking of threatening Zeus with stowing away his bolt on the next flight on the plane. See how he liked it.
It was smooth sailing from then on until they touched down safely at La Guardia. The local press was waiting for them outside security, but they managed to evade them thanks to Annabeth, who lured them away in her invisible Yankees cap, shouting, "They're over by the frozen yogurt! Come on!" Then she rejoined them at baggage claim.
They split up at the taxi stand. Percy told Annabeth and Grover to get back to Half-Blood Hill and let Chiron know what had happened as Markus called for a cab. They protested, and it was hard to let them go after all they'd been through, but this last part was for them, getting their uncle to stop waging war over his nightlight. Markus' words, not Percy's.
So they hopped into the taxi and headed into Manhattan.
Thirty minutes later, they walked into the lobby of the Empire State Building.
They must have looked like homeless kids, with their tattered clothes and their cuts and bruises. Plus, they hadn't slept in at least twenty-four hours.
Both boys saw the security desk, and went up to speak to the man.
"Markus Henderson and Percy Jackson, sons of Poseidon," Markus said. "We're here to see Zeus about his lost 'item'."
"Six hundredth floor, please," Percy added.
The guy was reading a huge book with a picture of a wizard on the front. Markus chuckled at that.
The book must've been good, because the guard took a while to look up. "No such floor, kiddies."
Markus sighed, not eager to deal with this.
Reaching out, he grabbed the top of the book and pressed it down on the desk. The guard was about to protest, but Markus silenced him with a finger. "I don't think you understand," he started off. "I'm really tired from going up and down, looking for our uncle's glowstick. And I'm really cranky right now. You wouldn't like me when I'm cranky."
"True, you wouldn't," Percy agreed, smirking.
"What my brother said. Now, we are returning the master bolt. Do you really intend to stop us from doing our quest? Think carefully on your answer, because it depends on how I'm going to react. And you better pray that I'm calm. So I expect a good answer."
The security guard looked confused, but, more importantly, also a little frightened. That might be because Markus was looking at him, his sea green eyes looking like those of a madman. That was because it was a cause of exhaustion.
The man couldn't hand Markus a keycard fast enough. "Insert this in the security slot. Make sure nobody else is in the elevator with you."
Markus nodded. "Thank you, good sir."
The security guard stuttered his next question. "M-may I s-see the bolt?"
Percy slung off the backpack and opened it, showing the master bolt.
"Oh." The guard's voice sounded small. "Well, go right up ahead. Have a good day."
And so they did, as soon as the elevator doors closed, Markus slipped the key into the slot. The card disappeared and a new button appeared on the console, a red one that said 600.
Percy reached over and pressed it.
"Damn," Markus said, pouting. "I wanted to press the red button."
Percy looked over to his brother, confused. "Why?"
"Because I just want to. It's one of those things on a person's bucket list."
And so they waited, and waited.
Muzak played. "Raindrops keep falling on my head..."
Finally, ding. The doors slid open. They stepped out and Percy almost had a heart attack while Markus stared in awe.
They was standing on a narrow stone walkway in the middle of the air. Below them was Manhattan, from the height of an airplane. In front of them, white marble steps wound up the spine of a cloud, into the sky. Their eyes followed the stairway to its end, it really was here and it was beautiful beyond words.
From the top of the clouds rose the decapitated peak of a mountain, its summit covered with snow. Clinging to the mountainside were dozens of multileveled palaces - a city of mansions - all with white-columned porticos, gilded terraces, and bronze braziers glowing with a thousand fires. Roads wound crazily up to the peak, where the largest palace gleamed against the snow. Precariously perched gardens bloomed with olive trees and rosebushes. You could make out an open-air market filled with colorful tents, a stone amphitheater built on one side of the mountain, a hippodrome and a coliseum on the other. It was an Ancient Greek city, except it wasn't in ruins. It was new, and clean, and colorful, the way Athens must've looked twenty-five hundred years ago or something.
You'd think something like this, a mountain palace anchored to the Empire State Building was impossible. But here it was…and it was absolutely stunning.
It was a daze to the kids, walking through Olympus that is. They passed some giggling wood nymphs who threw olives at them from their garden. Markus managed to catch one, shocking them. He then ate out of it. What? He was hungry.
Hawkers in the market offered to sell them ambrosia-on-a-stick, and a new shield, and a genuine glitter-weave replica of the Golden Fleece, as seen on Hephaestus-TV. The nine muses were tuning their instruments for a concert in the park while a small crowd gathered - satyrs and naiads and a bunch of good-looking teenagers who must've been minor gods and goddesses. Nobody seemed worried about an impending civil war.
In fact, everybody seemed in a festive mood. Several of them turned to watch the demigods pass, and whispered to themselves.
They climbed the main road, toward the big palace at the peak. It was a reverse copy of the palace in the Underworld.
There, everything had been black and bronze. Here, everything glittered white and silver.
Markus realized Hades must've built his palace to resemble this one. He wasn't welcomed in Olympus except on the winter solstice, so he'd built his own Olympus underground. It was then that he felt sorry for his uncle. To be casted away from his family? It must be painful, no wonder he seemed so bitter. Though he lost some sympathy points for the stunt he pulled with his mother.
Steps led up to a central courtyard. Past that, the throne room.
Room really isn't the right word. The place made Grand Central Station look like a broom closet. Massive columns rose up to a domed ceiling, which was gilded with moving constellations.
Twelve thrones, built for beings the size of Hades, were arranged in an inverted U, just like the cabins at Camp Half-Blood. An enormous fire crackled in the central hearth pit. The thrones were empty except for two at the end: the head throne on the right, and the one to its immediate left. They could already tell who they were, and they made no motion or anything, no doubt awaiting the boys to come forward themselves.
The gods were in giant human form, as Hades had been, but they could barely look at them without feeling a tingle, as if their body were starting to burn.
Markus looked at Zeus, the King of the Gods, for the first time. He seemed intimidating and stern, like an Ancient Greek statue. He wore a dark blue pinstriped suit. He sat on a simple throne of solid platinum. He had a well-trimmed beard (which kind of looked a bit stereotypical), marbled gray and black like a storm cloud. His face was proud and handsome and grim, his eyes rainy grey.
As he and Percy got closer to the god, the air crackled and smelled of ozone. It felt enriching, like the air was humming with power. It was a bit frightening, to say the least.
The god sitting next to him was his brother, without a doubt, but he was dressed very differently. He seemed like some regular beachgoer, someone who would just go out and enjoy the scenery the ocean gave. He wore leather sandals, khaki Bermuda shorts, and a Tommy Bahama shirt with coconuts and parrots all over it. His skin was deeply tanned, his hands scarred like an old-time fisherman's. His hair was black, a family trait it seemed. His face was set in a brood that made him seem like a rebel. But his eyes, sea green just like Percy's and his own, were surrounded by sun-crinkles like he smiled a lot, too.
As Markus looked at his father, a storm of emotions whirled inside of him: uncertainty, anger (which was prominent), sadness, and, surprisingly, happiness too. Before, Markus was ready to punch Poseidon in the gut for all that happened. But now he felt a little unsure.
His throne was a deep-sea fisherman's chair. It was the simple swiveling kind, with a black leather seat and a built-in holster for a fishing pole. Instead of a pole, the holster held a bronze trident, flickering with green light around the tips.
The gods weren't moving or speaking, but there was tension in the air, as if they'd just finished an argument.
Markus took a breath as he and Percy approached their father. Markus wasn't very eager to kneel, but this wasn't the time for personal preferences. They knelt at Poseidon's throne. "Father," both boys said at the same time.
Percy didn't look up as his heart was racing. Markus was pretty much the same.
To their left, Zeus spoke. "Should you not address the master of this house first, children?"
Both boys kept their head down, and waited.
"Peace, brother," Poseidon finally said, "The boys defers to their father. This is only right."
Zeus sniffed, eyeing Percy and Markus, judging them. "You claim these boys, whom you sired against our sacred oath?"
Hypocrite, is what Markus wanted to shout out, but didn't as he didn't want to be smote.
"I have admitted my wrongdoings. Now, shall we hear them speak?" he asked.
At the part where he said 'wrongdoings', Markus could see Percy tense. He was furious. Was that all they were to the god? Wrongdoings?
A lump formed in Markus' throat, but he swallowed it quickly. He wasn't going to break down into tears. He already knew this, so he expected it.
"I have spared them once already," Zeus grumbled. "Daring to fly through my domain ... pah! I should have blasted them out of the sky for their impudence."
"And risk destroying your own master bolt? Poseidon countered, getting Zeus to glare at him. "Let us hear them out, brother."
Zeus grumbled some more. "I shall listen," he decided. "Then I shall make up my mind whether or not to cast these boys down from Olympus."
Oh, so no pressure, Markus thought sarcastically. What kind of offer was that.
"Perseus, Markus," Poseidon said. "Look at me."
Both boys did so, but saw the god's face who sired them to be blank, unreadable. Percy got the feeling that Poseidon didn't know what to think of him. Like if he was happy or not to have them as his sons. Markus didn't know what to make of Poseidon's expression. It wasn't joyous or sad or angry. Just blank. Somehow, that made him feel a bit better, meeting Poseidon. He didn't want the god to act like a normal father. That would've been too out of place. Markus didn't need him. Percy had his mum (and stepdad, but, from hearing about him from Percy, Markus didn't include him). So they really didn't need him to act like a normal father. That didn't mean he was off the hook, though.
"Address Lord Zeus, boys," Poseidon instructed. "Tell him your story."
So they told Zeus everything, just as it had happened. Percy took out the metal cylinder, which began sparking in the Sky God's presence, and laid it at his feet.
There was a long silence, broken only by the crackle of the hearth fire.
Zeus opened his palm. The lightning bolt flew into it.
As he closed his fist, the metallic points flared with electricity, until he was holding what looked more like the classic thunderbolt, a twenty-foot javelin of arcing, hissing energy that would make your hair stand on end.
"I sense they tell the truth," Zeus muttered. "But that Ares would do such a thing ... it is most unlike him."
"He is proud and impulsive," Poseidon said. "It runs in the family."
"Hopefully not too deep into the family," Markus commented under his breath.
The gods heard him. Zeus gave him a glare while Poseidon seemed to smile a bit.
"Lord?" Percy asked.
They both said, "Yes?"
Markus chuckled a bit at that. Thankfully, the gods didn't pay too much attention to that.
Percy turned his gaze to the gods, "Ares didn't act alone. Someone else - something else - came up with the idea."
They described their dreams, and the feeling they had on the beach, that momentary breath of evil that had seemed to stop the world, and made Ares back off from killing them.
"In the dreams," Percy said, "the voice told us to bring the bolt to the Underworld. Ares hinted that he'd been having dreams, too. I think he was being used, just as I was, to start a war."
"You are accusing Hades, after all?" Zeus asked.
"No," Markus said. "This didn't feel anything like Hades presence, Lord Zeus. This feeling on the beach was different. It was the same thing we felt when we got close to that pit. Something powerful and evil is stirring down there, something ancient," he said, "It was Kron-"
"Do not speak that name in these halls, boy," Zeus interrupted, his voice sterner than before.
Markus stopped, his eyes wide in disbelief. Was Zeus going to ignore his claim so easily that he won't even say who was behind it? It was clearly obvious.
Poseidon and Zeus turned to one another. They had a quick, intense discussion in Ancient Greek. But the preteens caught one word they were certain of.
Father.
Poseidon made some kind of suggestion, but Zeus cut him off, just as he had Markus. Poseidon tried to argue. Zeus held up his hand angrily. "We will speak of this no more," Zeus said. "I must go personally to purify this thunderbolt in the waters of Lemnos, to remove the human taint from its metal."
He rose and looked at the demigods. His expression softened just a fraction of a degree. "You have done me a service, young ones. Few heroes could have accomplished as much." He said.
"We had help, sir," Percy added. "Grover Underwood and Annabeth Chase -"
"To show you my thanks, I shall spare your life."
Oh, we're so thankful, Markus thought sarcastically.
The king told Percy and Markus, "I do not trust you, Perseus Jackson, Markus Henderson. I do not like what your arrival means for the future of Olympus. But for the sake of peace in the family, I shall let you live."
"Um ... thank you, sir." Percy blinked, unsure what to even say other than that.
"Uh, yes. Thank you very much," Markus replied, just as befuddled as his brother.
"Do not presume to fly again. Do not let me find you here when I return. Otherwise you shall taste this bolt. And it shall be your last sensation." He told his nephews.
Thunder shook the palace. With a blinding flash of lightning, Zeus was gone.
It was just the demigods alone in the throne room with Poseidon. "Your uncle," Poseidon sighed, "has always had a flair for dramatic exits. I think he would've done well as the god of theater."
"Well thank the gods we didn't inherit that from you," Markus remarked, the nervous energy from before coming back to him.
The sea god gave a light chuckle at that, as an uncomfortable silence followed.
"Sir," Percy said, "what was in that pit?"
Poseidon regarded him. "Have you not guessed?"
"Like Markus said before; Kronos," Percy stated. "The king of the Titans."
Even in the throne room of Olympus, far away from Tartarus, the name Kronos darkened the room, made the hearth fire seem not quite so warm.
Poseidon gripped his trident.
"In the First War, children, Zeus cut our father Kronos into a thousand pieces, just as Kronos had done to his own father, Ouranos. Zeus cast Kronos' remains into the darkest pit of Tartarus. The Titan army was scattered, their mountain fortress on Etna destroyed, their monstrous allies driven to the farthest corners of the earth. And yet Titans cannot die, any more than we gods can. Whatever is left of Kronos is still alive in some hideous way, still conscious in his eternal pain, still hungering for power."
"He's healing," Markus declared, eyes narrowed in thought. "He's trying to come back. To rule once more."
Poseidon shook his head. "From time to time, over the aeons, Kronos has stirred. He enters men's nightmares and breathes evil thoughts. He wakens restless monsters from the depths. But to suggest he could rise from the pit is another thing."
Percy quickly said, "That's what he intends, Father. That's what he said."
Poseidon was silent for a long time.
"Lord Zeus has closed discussion on this matter. He will not allow talk of Kronos. You have completed your quest, children. That is all you need to do."
Markus's eyes narrowed. No, that wasn't all they needed to do. Kronos was rising and Zeus intended to ignore it? And Poseidon wasn't going to even bring the topic up? Markus knew that with Kronos rising, things were going to turn bad for the future. It was more of a feeling than a prediction. They needed to train, to get stronger, if they wanted any chance of survival. From reading Greek mythology, Markus knew that Kronos was no joke and if they weren't prepared, it was a guarantee for failure.
"But -" Percy stopped himself, seeing that arguing would do no good. It got Markus nowhere after all. "As ... as you wish, Father."
A faint smile played on the god's lips. "Obedience does not come naturally to either of you, does it?"
"No, sir," Markus said, his voice blank of emotion.
"I must take some blame for that, I suppose. The sea does not like to be restrained." He rose to his full height and took up his trident. Then he shimmered and became the size of a regular man, standing directly in front of them.
Markus still had all these emotions churning inside of him. The most problematic was, unsurprisingly, anger. So Poseidon could just act like everything was normal again? No, Markus wasn't going to let that slide. Maybe Percy was somewhat satsifiied with meeting him, but Markus wasn't. He still didn't forgive Poseidon for what he did.
Stepping up towards the god, Markus channelled what he could of his energy into his arm, vibrating slightly from the earthquake power flowing through it. Striking forward, and surprising both Percy and Poseidon, Markus punched Poseidon in the nose, a loud crack echoing through the throne room.
Percy looked shocked and horrified. Shocked because he didn't expect Markus to do that, even if he did act random at times. And horrified at what he'd done. While he wasn't happy with Poseidon either, that didn't mean he was going to do what Markus had done, and possibly (almost certainly) get smited.
Markus knew that what he did probably would've gotten him killed instantly, but at the moment, logic wasn't speaking at the moment. Anger was. And he tended to do some pretty irrational things when angered. Right now, though, he didn't care. He wanted to make Poseidon pay at the moment.
The god's head snapped back, and then, slowly, looked down at his son, looking shocked rather than hurt. Ichor flowed freely from his nose, staining his Bahama shirt. The blood of the gods dropped onto the floor of Olympus, staining it also.
"S-son... w-what...?" Poseidon made out, but Markus interrupted him.
"That was for my mother... the woman you let die years ago," Markus growled. That was the real reason he was so pissed off at his father. Not with him living on the streets or being homeless. Not even for possibly ignoring him for all these years. No, he was pissed because of his mother's deathl. In his eyes, that was Poseidon's biggest mess.
"Markus, you must understand that I couldn't-" Poseidon started, reaching up to block the ichor dripping from his nose, but Markus interrupted him again.
"No! Don't give me that bullshit about the Ancient Laws!" he roared. Tears, ones that he had shed long ago, came from his eyes, which were now glowing in anger. He hadn't intended to cry, but all the bottled emotions started surfacing up from the past. And, like a dam, they bursted out. "If it was so much of a bother, then you shouldn't have had us! If you think me and Percy are such 'wrongdoings' on your part, then you should've kept it in your pants! My mother still loved you! Even after you left us, even after I asked her when you would come back, or why you weren't around, she still kept smiling and said to have faith that you'd come! Even when she knew the real truth! When she was attacked by those monsters that were after me, I could imagine her still praying to you, still hoping that you'd come and save us! I was the same too! I cried, I pleaded, I begged, but you didn't come. I bet you just watched us as we suffered!"
"Don't you dare accuse me of that, boy!" Poseidon retorted back, looking just as furious as Markus was. "You had no idea he heartbreak I suffered when Melissa died! The pain I had when I watched her die! Don't you dare question the love I had for her!"
"I can imagine the pain because I was there," Markus said lowly. "All the pain you described, all that suffering, I felt it, because I was there. You weren't there, so I obviously question whether you actually experienced that pain or not. You have no one to blame but yourself. All that pain and suffering you had, that was because the whole thing was all your fault."
Percy quickly reached forward and held his brother's shoulder, but Markus shrugged it off. Poseidon looked stony, the same angry expression that was on his face was similar to Markus'. He didn't know whether the god was angry at him for his blatant disrespect, or if he was angry at himself. The air was heating up, alive with crackling energy. His trident responded to its master's emotions, the tips crackling and glowing with power.
After it seemed like he was going to explode, he calmed down, his face having a melancholic expression. Both Percy and Markus watched as Poseidon slumped down, looking riddled with guilt.
"You have no idea of the pain I felt when your mother died," Poseidon said, his voice sounding broken. It was here that both boys saw a god show emotions that seemed so human. It was shocking to say the least. "What was even worse was, like you said, Markus, I wasn't there to help. I wasn't there to help your mother as she sacrificed herself for you. I wasn't there to help you as you lived on your own for seven years. But I was always watching over you. Even when Hecate shrouded you in Mist, I still watched over you. You and Perseus mean so much to me. Your mothers were both queens among mortal women. When I watched Melissa die, and Sally be mistreated by that piece of filth, I was heartbroken. That agony is still with me, even to this very moment. I wouldn't blame Melissa if she hated me in her final moments, or if Sally hated me for leaving her alone. The thing about your mother, Markus, was that she always seemed to be cheerful, even in the worst of situations. She also didn't care if I was a god. She would still try and set me straight if I ever messed up around her." Here, Poseidon let out a hollow chuckle, making both boys flinch.
"Even when I left, she still loved me. I could always tell, from seeing her expression from time to time. I loved her, like I loved Sally. And because of that, I love both of you boys. Even if you end up hating me for the rest of your lives. I will still always love you. I hate the Ancient Laws as much as you do, boys. But you have to understand, I have to follow them. I'm a god."
"Yeah, but we're also your sons," Percy retorted, his voice cracking slightly. It seemed as if he was just as affected by the emotional outbreak as Markus was. Even if he didn't like to admit it.
Reaching out, Poseidon caught both boys in a hug. They were unresponsive at first, but eventually joined in on the hug, crying a little. Even Poseidon had a few tears leaking out of his eyes, mixing in with the light traces of ichor on his face.
Markus, taking notice of this, spoke up. "I'm sorry about your nose, Father." His voice was muffled as his head was against the sea god's chest.
Chuckling slightly, Poseidon waved it off. "It's alright. I deserve worse, to be fair."
The hug lasted for a couple of moments, creating a heartwarming scene. Sadly, it was broken when Percy asked a question. "Um, Father. What about my mother?"
"Ah, yes." Here, Poseidon broke the hug, making both Percy and Markus miss it slightly. The god waved his hand, making the ichor stains and tears disappear. "Your mother has been returned, Perseus. You will find her at home. Hades sent her when you recovered his helmet. Even the Lord of Death pays his debts."
Percy's heart was pounding. He couldn't believe it. He wanted to ask Poseidon if he wanted to see her, but after his speech, he knew that it wasn't needed. Poseidon already loved Sally. He would've seen her if he wanted to.
Poseidon's eyes gained a look of sadness, like they were a few moments ago. "When you return home, Percy, you must make an important choice. You will find a package waiting in your room."
"A package?"
"You will understand when you see it. No one can choose your path, Percy. You must decide."
Percy nodded, looking a little confused.
"And Markus." Here Poseidon turned towards him. "I have secured for you some, ah, living arrangements. Don't worry, everything is taken care of." Here Poseidon winked, though he looked a little sad as he said this.
"Father..." Markus said, then stopped. It seemed weird to call the sea god 'Father', after the emotional conversation (which was more like a shouting match at first) they had. Not that Markus was angry with him anymore. Now that he calmed down, he could see that maybe, just maybe, he acted a little irrationally. He could see that now after he punched him in the face. He looked towards Poseidon, matching his gaze. "Thank you."
The god nodded, looking relatively pleased, as if his thanks was some kind of gift.
After that, another awkward silence came about. It was broken, again, when Percy bowed. "Um, thank you, Father."
Here, Markus followed his example, doing the same. "Yes. Thank you, Father."
Both of the boys turned away towards the throne room doors. They were five steps away when Poseidon called out, "Perseus, Markus."
They turned.
There was a new light in the sea god's eyes, a sort of fiery pride. It was a stark from the sad, broken emotions he showed before. "You did well, boys. Never think otherwise. Whatever else you do, know that both of you are mine. You are true sons of the Sea God."
Here, both boys smiled at that, nodding to their father. As they both walked back through the city of the gods, conversations stopped. the muses paused their concert. People and satyrs and naiads all turned to the two boys. Their faces were filled with respect and gratitude and, as they passed, they knelt, as if they were some kind of heroes.
And with that, both boys' hearts felt slightly lighter, with less emotional baggage weighing on them now.
'Sup, everyone. Kronium345 here with another chapter. And this one has an increase in drama. I hope I did a good job on that.
Now, if this seems out of place for Poseidon, let me point out some stuff: in the books, Riordan made the gods to be a little human, which was good. Poseidon was pretty much one of the gods who showed his affection for Percy, which was obvious. Here, he was a bit more emotional, but since he loved Sally and the OC's mother, he seems more heartbroken and, therefore, more emotional. Hope you liked my explanation, and the chapter. Let me know what you think.
So, nearly there till the end of the book. After that I'll be moving away from canon writing for a bit, going into little side quests for Markus and such. There'll be more dark stuff and crossovers along with that, don't worry.
Read and Review!