He was far too late. Cybele's body had already hit the ground and her clothing had ceased to move several seconds before Ryker even got to her side. The wound in her back spilled ichor onto her dress, staining the rich earthy color with gold. She seemed painfully small to Ryker as he gathered her in his arms and turned him over, his hands shaking. His heart felt as though it was tearing itself apart in his chest, though he had no idea as to why. "Mother," He said in a low voice, "Mother, listen to me! Hear my voice and wake up!"

But Cybele's eyes remained closed. Ichor trickled out of the corner of her mouth, trailing down her face. Ryker placed his ear against her chest, listening intently for a heartbeat or anything at all that could signify her life. But there was nothing. Ryker could not find a flicker of life in her. Even her godly glow, the one that all gods and goddesses possessed, had dimmed. Her body grew colder impossibly fast in Ryker's arms.

"Well, isn't this precious?" The Corrupted who had killed Cybele asked in a low, intense voice. "I suppose that the saying, 'the family is all here' is particularly apt in this situation."

Ryker barely heard the words, but he did hear them. Shaking with rage and sadness he slowly got to his feet. The claws appeared slowly, unbidden and responding to his rage rather than his commands. He finally met the eyes of the Corrupted who had slain his mother and, for a moment, was at a loss. But that quickly passed, subsiding under the weight of his fury. "You." It was one word from the true Ryker, but it carried all of his hatred and despair inside of it. No threat was necessary, his expression said it all.

"Ryker!" A deep, booming voice rang out over the battlefield from the Corrupted side. "Our task has been completed, we're withdrawing for now."

The Corrupted Ryker sighed and glanced back towards his comrades. "Fine, fine." He grumbled.

He turned around and that was when the true Ryker attacked, leaping over Cybele's body and going directly for his Corrupted double's neck. Ryker was fast. The Corrupted was faster. Faster than Ryker could even begin to react to the Corrupted spun around, ripping his saber from its holster and impaling Ryker on it after brushing aside his claws. Ryker felt the searing pain from the blade but did not stop his attack. He drew one clawed hand back and, while the Corrupted twisted the sword in his chest, struck out at the one who had slain his mother. But, again, his efforts were for naught. The Corrupted danced backwards, chuckling softly, his sword red with Ryker's blood. "Well, I suppose seeing which of us is the better version would only be just." Corrupted Ryker mused, leveling his sword at the original once more. "But I am fairly certain that our first exchange was enough evidence for everyone present."

"Shut up!" Ryker snarled, trying to catch his breath as his punctured lung filled with blood. The coppery taste of the crimson liquid coated his tongue. "I'm going to tear you in half."

"Brave words." The Corrupted noted, "But the question remains: can you make good on that threat? Or will you fall like your, pardon me, our mother?"

"SHUT UP!" Ryker roared, dashing across the clearing between them and beginning their duel anew.

The Corrupted was clearly enjoying the fight as he danced in and out of Ryker's range whilst keeping up a biting commentary. "You know, I am rather disappointed with both of you. I expected more from a goddess, and yet she fell so easily. Granted, she was distracted. Ah! Maybe that makes it your fault that she fell so easily. Your arrival pulled attention away from her foe and so she fell. If that's the case, you aren't truly a good substitute." Corrupted Ryker never stopped talking or taunting Ryker even as they fought. His breath was smooth and even, not showing any signs of strain at all. Whereas Ryker's breath was strained and came in ragged bursts, blood now spotting his chin from his damaged lung.

The end of the fight came suddenly. Ryker's poor oxygen intake mixed with his fatigue and failing adrenaline rush caused him to fall to one knee in the middle of a strike. Suddenly unable to keep his arms up, they fell to his sides and left him completely at the mercy of the Corrupted Ryker. Defeated and drained of energy, Ryker mustered the strength to look into the face of his opponent with hatred still burning in his eyes. "I was hoping for more." Corrupted Ryker admitted, seizing Ryker by his throat and hauling him to his feet with one arm, the other leveling the saber directly over his heart. "I was hoping that the thought of vengeance might inspire someone to fight me at a new level. Perhaps one of the gods who were close to her. And yet I was given you. A pathetic excuse for a warrior. I'm going to do you a kindness by killing you."

Ryker didn't turn his eyes away from his Corrupted copy as the sword pierced through his heart, did not give so much as a grunt of pain. The Corrupted Ryker opened his mouth to say more as he withdrew the blade, but he never got the chance. A black and red shafted arrow sang out over Ryker's shoulder and buried itself in the Corrupted demigod's shoulder, forcing him to drop his prisoner. The Corrupted staggered away, his smile gone now and replaced with a fearsome glare. He ripped the arrow from his shoulder just as three more arced up and buried themselves in his chest. He staggered farther back and retreated back to where the rest of Tartarus's forces stood, watching silently.

It was then that Ryker lost consciousness, blood loss and pain robbing him of his senses. Vague images and senses occasionally came to him. A silver light over his eyes, the smell of smoke wafting over him, the taste of nectar on his tongue. He walked in darkness for what seemed a long time, unable to wake up no matter how hard he tried. The silver light returned frequently and Ryker used it as a sort of guide, constantly walking towards where it shone. It never seemed to change places, always appearing in the same spot in the distance. Though he moved towards the light, Ryker did it with very little sense of purpose. The light never seemed to draw closer, nor did he feel as though he was making any real progress. He simply didn't care. He couldn't understand why he didn't car either. His general policy when trapped somewhere he didn't want to be was to escape that place as soon as possible and to make the being keeping him there regret their choice as soon as possible. But, after seeing his mother fall, he simply did not have the willpower to do so. His heart constantly felt as though it was tearing itself apart, a feeling Ryker absolutely loathed. If this was what losing someone important to you felt like, Ryker never wanted anyone to be close to him again. He hadn't even been that close with his own mother! He hadn't met her more than half a dozen times, and yet her death weighed on him as heavily as a ton of weights.

He missed her. The revelation his Ryker as surely as an arrow to the heart. He missed his mother. He felt like he stumbled as he moved through the darkness, though over what he wasn't sure. Tears begin to drip down his face again and Ryker touched a finger to his cheek, examining the liquid. He curled his hand into a fist and looked up at the sky of his dark prison. The tears continued to fall and Ryker blew out a shuddering breath, closing his eyes. He had seen death before, he had caused it more times than he could count, but now that it was him who was dealing with the repercussions of the action the significance of it truly hit him. If this was what he had put the camps through when he had been following Orion's orders, he understood exactly how much he deserved this prison. "At least I brought them back." Ryker muttered, wincing as the silver light flashed in the distance once more. "They can see them again. I'll never see her again."

He wearily continued on his trek, making his way to the silver light. Everything seemed the same, he didn't seem to get any closer, but for some reason the light seemed to be brighter. The pain in his chest did not go away, in fact it only seemed worse after Ryker had made his revelation, but it seemed to be more focused. A sense of purpose slowly dawned on Ryker as he moved. He had caused both camps so much sadness, so much pain. He had probably caused his mother more pain than anyone else and he would never be able to apologize to her or make amends. That simple fact tore at him worse than anything else. He wanted to earn her forgiveness, to apologize. In all honesty, he just wanted to see her one more time if only for just a minute. He wanted his chance to say goodbye. He thought back to the Corrupted Ryker and his resolve only grew stronger. He didn't want any other demigod to go through what he was now feeling. It was unavoidable, death always was, but he could still do his best to delay that confrontation. "I'll protect them." Ryker silently promised himself. "None of them will go through this. I swear it on the River Styx."

Several things happened all at once after his oath. The silver light flashed once again, brighter than it had shined before, blinding him and illuminating his prison. When the temporary blindness wore off, Ryker found himself in a very different setting. And his chest hurt. A lot. He pulled in a slow experimental breath and winced as an expected tendril of pain wormed its way through his chest. He blinked several times and then frowned, unsure of where he was. He was on a bed of some sort, or perhaps a cot, in a silver tent of some sort. It seemed vaguely familiar for some reason, though Ryker could not tell why. He tried to push himself into a sitting position but quickly gave up the effort as his chest protested the change in position. He ran a hand across where the Corrupted Ryker had ran him through and found that he had been bandaged quite heavily. They were not soaked in blood which told him that his wounds had been redressed at least a few times.

He placed his hands back at his sides and stared up at the silver folds of the tent and then closed his eyes, tired. His eyes snapped back open immediately as he realized where he was. "Oh no." He breathed, glancing around him warily. The tent of a Hunter of Artemis. In specific, this looked to be the one where he had killed Jude. "Well that's just typical. Heal me just so they can kill me."

Ryker was not one to go quietly. Despite the pain in his chest, it really did hurt quite a lot, he struggled to a sitting position. This time he did not stop until he managed to accomplish the change, ignoring the worrying popping sound that came from his chest and the subsequent crimson bloom that same from both places he had been stabbed. He took a steadying breath and, after gritting his teeth, swung his legs over the bed. He attempted to summon his bow with the idea of using the weapon as a crutch, but rather than the shadowy thing appearing, a yellow note materialized in his hand. Temporarily disabled your bow. I.O.U one bow. - Erebus

"You have got to be kidding me." Ryker moaned, staring down at the floor. It wasn't any more than a few inches to the floor from where his feet hung and yet, to Ryker, it seemed like a mile. He slowly pushed himself off the bed, wincing as his feet touched the ground. Unsurprisingly, walking hurt as much as sitting up did. More, in fact. Each step was fresh agony, even with Ryker using everything he could as a brace or support. Suddenly conscious of what he was wearing he looked down and saw a simple pair of silver shorts on his body, in addition to the bandages. He frowned and wondered where his shadowy clothing had gotten off to. The room he had been staying in was separated from the rest of the tent by a thin silver curtain. It took Ryker several minutes to hobble himself over to the curtain, his dressings now thoroughly stained red, and even longer to push himself off of the cabinet he had been using so that he could grasp the curtain. Ordinarily he would have tried to go under the back of the tent, but he had a strange suspicion that they would have guarded against that escape route after Jude's death. Even if they hadn't he doubted he could muster the strength it required to lift the tent, roll under the fabric, and then get back to his feet. The mere idea of the actions caused his chest to ache even more in preemptive protest. With a deep breath, Ryker slowly drew back the curtain. He wasn't trying to make a dramatic reveal, his arms just wouldn't let him throw back the curtains quickly.

When he fully managed to draw back the curtain he immediately wished he hadn't. A Hunter, who had been walking by, stopped to look at him with an interesting mixture of shock, horror, and outrage. The shock was most likely due to the fact that he was awake after being asleep for however long. The horror was probably her remembering all the things he had done prior to leading the army of newly resurrected demigods to the battlefield. Those two were mere guesses. The third emotion was fairly obvious. The Hunter was in her underwear. Ryker opened his mouth to say something, but the Hunter reacted first. She screamed and her hand shot out, her fist connecting squarely with his chin. Ryker's head rocked back from the force of the impact and his vision grew dark. Normally such a punch wouldn't have done much more than annoy him. But in his weakened state it was more than enough to render him unconscious. Ryker felt his grip on the curtains fail and he fell backwards, landing on the floor, completely out.