~PERCY~

He was ashamed to admit that instead of fear or terror - though those emotions were certainly there - the most abundant, overwhelming emotion coursing through his body was a mixture of glee and anticipation. Unbidden, the memory of choking Akhlys with her own poison rose to the forefront of his mind, but this time, instead of the disgust and self-loathing he usually forced himself to feel, there was excitement and triumph. Desperate, he tried to squash it down, instead focusing on the terrain below, growing larger before his eyes. They definitely hadn't landed in the same place as before; he could see five rivers winding their way through the land, meeting and mingling in a large pool which was both mesmerising and terrifying. A pool that they were now almost directly on top of; he could see the rippling surface, the colours of the five rivers of the underworld mixing together.

His face paled. Falling into one Underworld River was bad enough - he still had flashbacks from the agonizing pain of the River Styx and the induced melancholy of the River Cocytus - but all five of them? It would mean certain death. Even a son of Poseidon - former son of Poseidon - couldn't hope to escape the wrath of all five rivers. So, he thought grimly. This is really it.

He looked around at the faces of his friends. Instead of shock, or terror, as he had been expecting, all he saw on their faces was resignation as they gazed into the face of their death. He supposed perhaps this was for the best; after all, he wouldn't wish the horrors of Tartarus on anyone, much less his family. But dying in agony by the might of the five rivers ... no. Even if his powers were now severely weakened, even if it turned out he couldn't control the liquid - he would still try. He had to.

Annabeth's eyes were blown wide and there was despair in her eyes. She, too, knew it was hopeless - knew that there was no way out. Not this time. Internally, he mourned the now unreachable future he'd imagined for the two of them, and saw the same grief in her eyes.

"I love you," he said, putting his mouth close to her ear so she would be able to hear him. She gave him a watery smile.

"I love you, too."

Then - mere metres from the surface of the deadly waters - he pushed her away with all his strength, sending the rest of the demigods with her in a flailing chain reaction, surrounding them in a bubble of air with the last of his weakening powers as they plunged into the depths of the swirling pool, the water closing over their heads. The last thing he saw was Annabeth's horrified grey eyes and her mouth wide open in a soundless scream.

Percy had imagined unrelenting, blistering agony as he slipped beneath the waves, but instead the liquid felt cool against his skin, invigorating him just like sea water had. He frowned in confusion, drifting peacefully through the depths, his body exhausted beyond belief. He couldn't even move a finger, much less propel himself back up to the surface to look for Annabeth and the others. He could only pray that they'd taken advantage of his air bubble and made it safely to the shores. It had taken so much out of him that it was all he could do to keep his eyes open; he couldn't even summon a shred of power to keep himself dry. Luckily, for whatever reason that he decided not to question right this minute, he didn't seem to need it, even with milky white water from the Lethe surging over him, but strangely not taking any memories with it.

He came to a stop at the bottom of the pool, the murky liquid blocking any view he'd hoped to glimpse of the far-off surface. It was covered in gritty glass-sand, the specialty of Tartarus, and there was no sign of life anywhere. Unsurprising, given that this pool was specially designed to purge any life. Nothing could survive the five rivers of the Underworld - except, it appeared, Percy.

Maybe I'll just ... take a nap ... he thought, his mind foggy with weariness, his eyes already closing. His senses were so dulled, his awareness already drifting away, that he didn't notice the five shadows drifting over his prone form, the sound of lilting voices raised in speech.

He slowly came to on a smooth surface that decidedly did not feel like the glass-sand he'd passed out on, and tried to jerk up and reach for Riptide, only to find gentle hands on his shoulders pushing him back. He was still too weak to fight them off, so he obeyed, slowly easing his eyes open. They burned, and he had to push away bouts of dizziness as he propped himself up on his arms, only to find five pairs of eyes oddly similar to the colours of the five rivers staring back at him. He barely restrained himself from jumping and uncapping Riptide, unleashing a series of muffled curses.

The women - river nymphs, he could see that now - were suppressing smiles, looking at him with amusement. He was about to open his mouth to demand who they were when he stopped short; in retrospect, it should have been obvious. They were river nymphs, and he was in their rivers. These must be the nymphs of the rivers.

"My ladies," he said, bowing his head, figuring that it couldn't hurt to be respectful, even if it left a bit of a sour taste in his mouth. The sea didn't like to be restrained, after all. "It's a pleasure to meet you. What can I do for you?"

The lady with fiery red hair and undulating eyes to match - presumably Lady Phlegethon (he grimaced at the memory of that particular river, feeling the bitter bile climb up his throat, reminiscent of the awful taste the fire-water had going down) - smirked at him, her eyes changing to light orange, like that of a sunrise. "Well, it's more like what we can do for you," she said, leaning forward, her eyes now narrowed in suspicion.

"Yes. Perseus Jackson," the woman with dark eyes and hair mused, her eyes fixed on him. He gulped. This, then, must be Lady Styx. He supposed she wasn't too happy with him, being the child of a broken oath and all, not to mention having dared to take a dip in her river. She mimicked the other nymph's position, regarding him with a cool demeanor. "How did you survive? And save all your friends, too. A remarkable feat," she said, though the words were said with an air of reluctance.

His friends. So they were safe. Well, not exactly safe ... but at least they had survived the first trial Tartarus had thrown their way. He felt a wave of relief crash over him, though he did his best not to let it show on his face. He had learned the hard way never to trust gods and goddesses.

"I don't know how I survived," he said, avoiding her second question. "Truthfully, I didn't think I would."

"Well, whatever the case, you did survive," another voice chimed in. He turned to look at the speaker and shock momentarily rendered him immobile. She looked ... like a ghost, to put it nicely. Everything about her was pale and white-washed, her eyes a milky colour, her hair snow-white. She had a vacant expression on her face and was swaying side to side, creating an impression of floating. Lady Lethe. "It is no small feat. Even for a son of Poseidon."

His body was suddenly boiling with red-hot rage. "I am no son of that bastard," he spat, drawing surprised looks from all five. Styx's eyes narrowed again, and suddenly her dark eyes were less than an inch away from his, causing him to stiffen in surprise. Her face suddenly went slack, like she'd glimpsed something in his eyes that surprised her, and she sat back again, her expression thoughtful and calculating.

"Be that as it may," a mournful voice said, "you have survived all five of our rivers. That is no small feat to accomplish, and would be impossible, except for ..." She trailed off, her hands flying to cover her mouth, as if she had said too much. Percy peered at her closely. Except for ... what?

The others shot her angry glances, clearly sending the message of shut up or you'll regret it, piquing Percy's curiosity. He had enough sense not to ask, though; he was in their domain, and if he ever wanted to get out, he would do well to get on their good sides. Or at least, not get on their bad side. Gods knew he had somewhat of a talent for that.

"You have survived this first trial," said Styx, looking at him with an indecipherable expression. "You may not be so lucky next time. So we have decided to ... help you along." She said this with a little smile on her face, as if she knew something he didn't. She probably did; he had long since given up trying to decipher what gods did. He was subject to their whims, and he knew it. He didn't like it, but it was a simple fact, and if he didn't accept it, well, he'd have been ash a long time ago.

"We have decided to give you our blessing," Phlegethon told him. "Do not take it lightly, mortal. You are the first who has received our blessing. Do not make us regret it." She seemed about ready to shoot him up to the surface and be done with him, but before she could, Percy interrupted.

"Wait! What about my friends?"

The last woman, her expression contorted into an expression of eternal pain, nevertheless managed to give him a haughty look, bordering on disgust. "What about them?" she sneered.

Percy knew that he was wandering into a dangerous zone - after all, gods didn't make a habit of helping mortals without a substantial price to be paid - but he had to give his friends a chance, at least.

"They're stuck down here too. Can't you help them, too? Please," he said, not caring if he was all but begging. Looking around at their indifferent expressions, he felt his hope wither away. He should have known not to rely on bastard gods.

Acheron seemed about to speak, her expression morphing into a sneer, but before she could, Styx stopped her, her eyes suddenly gleaming with a hint of malice. "I will allow your ... friends ... to take a dip in my river," she announced. Percy was ready to thank her profusely and escape as quickly as possible, but she held up a hand. "But," she continued. "Whether or not they survive it ... is up to them," she finished, and before he could thank her, she snapped her fingers and he was flung upwards, the colors of the different liquids swirling dizzyingly before his eyes, until black was all he could see.