Reap what you sow! I'm thinking, approaching her on the ground. I feel a hand on my arm before I can stomp her brains out.

"Don't," Percy says, pulling me away from her. "I've already talked with Reyna. We're going to execute her in a few minutes."

"No, Percy. You promised it would be me. Remember?" He opens his mouth to object, then frowns.

"I did. But what are you going to do? It will be in front of everyone."

I stare at him in disbelief. After what we went through, he's worried about what I'm going to do to her?

"I'm going to flay her alive! Why would I do anything else?"

"Because this will be in front of everyone. I don't want people to think you-"

"I don't give a damn what people think, Percy! She will pay! If it's the last thing I do, she'll pay. You know what? Maybe I'll just cut her into pieces right here." I snarl, pulling my dagger. Korren tries to roll away.

"Annabeth don't!" Percy exclaims, getting between me and the psychopath on the ground. "Not yet. You weren't the only one she tormented. We're doing this officially. I did promise you could kill her, so you can be the one to behead her."

"Beheading." I scoff. "That's too quick. She deserves to be fed her own genitals. Something nasty and excruciating. Remember what she did to you? To me? To them?"

Korren squirms on the ground.

"Please Annabeth. Don't be like her. I'm not arguing that she doesn't deserve it. She deserves the worst damnation the fields has to offer. And she'll probably get it too. But don't condemn yourself to a similar fate. You'll behead her, then she'll face judgement. That's not your job." He pleads.

I realize that he doesn't want me to lose the probable reservation in Elysium I've earned all of my life.

"Fine. But I'm going to do it in multiple swings." I compromise.

He sighs, turning away. I turn around and kick her in the face as hard as I can, just because. She growls at me, muffled through the gag.

After Percy tells me when, I drag her up the steps of the amphitheater, forcing her to her knees in front of everyone. About half of our army watches, along with the gods.

Reyna speaks, addressing everyone below.

"This half-blood Titan tortured Jason Grace, Annabeth Chase, Percy Jackson, Piper McLean, and Leo Valdez for four weeks underground shortly before this war began. For these crimes, she is to be executed by beheading."

Percy hands me the axe. I ungag Korren, because there's nothing I want more than to hear her beg for her life like I begged her. She is unexpectedly silent.

"Does anyone object to this justice?" I call out, my eyes sweeping the crowd below.

"I do." Korren says.

I scoff, ready to kill her, but she continues speaking, addressing Reyna now.

"Don't you Romans believe in honor anymore? I challenge Annabeth Chase!"

Reyna shifts uncomfortably.

"This is pretty unofficial. Can she even...?"

Apollo speaks up. "She can challenge her executioner. Of course, Annabeth doesn't have to accept the-"

"No, If she wants to challenge me in combat and die that way, then so fucking be it. I'll make it slow." I snarl, slicing the ropes that bind Korren.

Percy pounces on me as soon as I step off the amphitheater.

"What's wrong with you? Why don't you just-"

"Just what Percy? Huh? Just kill her quickly? Let it be known that I got revenge like a coward? No. I will strike her down in battle. That will be my vengeance."

"Once a challenge is official, nobody can interfere. If... If she..." He worries.

"You're doubting me? That's fine. I'll feed her her own heart, then we can go live in peace, three thousand miles away from these tyrants." I say, gesturing towards the gods. He sighs.

"Don't you dare die." He threatens.

"Count on it, Kelp head."

I stand on the far side of the arena, my knuckles white around the hilt of my sword. Korren twirls her own sword, a stygian iron xiphos. That sword scares me, but so does my own anger. I force myself into a calmer, calculating, analytical state that better suits me in battle. I'm going to take her apart, but it's best if I keep my composure.

She paces, obviously thrilled to fight me.

I wonder if she has any clue just how horrible her end will be.

Ares steps to the side of the arena. I make eye contact with him, and suddenly I feel my blood pressure spike. There's nothing I want more than to get even with Korren, by the bloodiest means possible.

Ares speaks up as I glare at Korren. "Once a challenge is underway, nobody can interfere. Whoever dies, dies." He announces.

I'm so mad I can barely think now.

I advance on Korren, bloody sword in hand. Her xiphos, being made of Stygian Iron, will send my soul much deeper than judgement if it kills me. It will also burn like hell.

We meet and our blades clash, sparks shooting from the point of impact. She presses into me with expert skill and horrifying speed. She's stronger and faster, but I'm smarter, smaller, more maneuverable.

Hard minutes pass in which we both come close, but never score a hit. Upon close examination of my opponent, she's not tiring as fast as I am. She's wounded from the previous battle, though.

There's a limp in her gait from a nasty gash on her knee, and her chest is slashed deeply. These injuries taken into account, this is anyone's fight.

My pure rage taken into account, she's mine.

After what feels like years of fighting, I score the first hit, leaving a shallow cut on her forearm. She lunges back to a safe distance and examines the wound.

"Three pints." I tell her, deadly calm.

"What are you talking about?"

"Three pints. That's how much blood you are going to swallow."

She smirks, impressed with my threat, but there's a new look in her eyes now.

Weariness.

We engage again and exchange blows. She's so fast that if I let my guard down in the slightest, she'll skewer me with that nasty black blade. It's a stalemate. Neither of us are faster than the other. I have to score a hit on her arms and cripple her offense. That is the only way I will ever win. I decide to take the risk and go for it.

I send a feint at her face. She ducks and blocks low, both getting her head out of path and defending her body in case it was in fact a feint. I step back to reassess, but she lunges forward with me.

Her blade catches me full in the left shoulder, cleaving through my deltoid muscle and biting into the bone beneath. I hear myself scream as searing pain engulfs my left arm, the Stygian Iron sizzling on contact. I leap back, but Korren does not follow. If that was my sword arm, I'd be toast. As it is, the wound is disgusting, and the brutish, meaty cleaving sound her blade made reverberates in my ears, eliciting pained cringing.

I didn't have a counterattack ready, and she could've probably killed me in that moment of vulnerability, but she chose to step back and let me live. She's toying with me, and my shoulder smolders in searing pain. I can only be thankful that wasn't my right arm, because the injured limb is numb, and if my sword was in that hand, it would be in the dirt now.

Rage overtakes me and I sprint at her, sending a set of slashes and blows that nearly overwhelm her. As a result, the side of her face is laid open to the jawbone.

She stumbles back and I rush her, taking full advantage of her shock. She raises her blade and parries most of my attack, but in the end I get what I wanted.

Her defense is sloppy as a result of the face wound, so I exploit it.

I feint a slash at her face, and she goes into a hanging guard position, leaving her arm completely open. I rotate my blade's trajectory and come down at her with an overhead chop that should have taken her arm off completely, but she moves back just enough so that the blade cleaves halfway through her arm just below the elbow.

She yelps, nearly dropping her sword, a torrent of blood flowing from the deep wound. I could very easily kill her now, but I don't. She's going to feel every bit of this.

No less is deserved.

Fighting back cries of pain, she switches her sword to her left hand, hoping to continue the fight. I advance and begin the slow process of wearing her down. I target her more vulnerable areas, like the face, inner forearms, the fingers that grip her sword, the backs of the knees, and places where tendons are close to the surface.

The silence in between attacks is eerie, and the blades are deafening when they meet with all of our force behind them.

How silent they are when they meet flesh.

I don't stop pressing her. After several minutes of my onslaught, she is stumbling, struggling to stay on her feet, struggling to keep from crying out. Her hands are shaking from blood loss, and her face betrays defeat, disbelief, pain, and fear. Her left hand barely grasps her blade now.

She falls to a knee, wavering. I move in for the kill. She has suffered enough, considering where she's going after I kill her. She looks down at the ground as her blood spills onto it, her face despaired.

Doubled over on the ground, she awaits my blade. I move my sword above my head, ready to slash her. A chill runs down my spine as Korren's posture stiffens, her own sword jumping to life. Percy's cry of alarm is the next thing I register.

Before I even know what I can possibly do, her sword pierces my upper abdomen at a brutal upward angle.

I feel everything.

I feel the tip break the skin. I feel the sword punch through my abdominal muscles. I feel it split my insides and pierce my right lung. I feel it exit my upper back, cleaving through those muscles as well. I feel a dying Korren's rage, desperation, and the strength that comes with such.

And most of all, I feel the wrath of my own arrogance.

This is easily the stupidest thing I've ever done. My hubris - it seems - will cost me everything.

I stand still, staring stupidly at her and her sword hilt that is somehow touching my abdomen, just below my sternum. There is no pain, just the cold, alien feeling of fullness, of metal in my belly and chest. It doesn't hurt until I try to inhale. Nasty spikes of pain shoot in a sunburst as my right lung tries to inflate with a sword in it. Wisps of smoke slink past my lips, the Stygian Iron searing me internally.

I sink to my knees, my vision spinning. The sensation of fullness begins to grow into a dull pain that slowly blossoms into something utterly torturous. Grinning a bloody smile, Korren twists the blade, and my body tries to twist with it, attempting to match the motion and minimize damage, only to double over as the twist shreds my insides.

Korren pulls the blade out of me roughly and a scream gargles in my throat. My side hits the ground and I claw at my body, just wanting the burning to stop. I taste copper and salt. I try to inhale, but a sucking sound comes from the wound as my right lung collapses.

I cough, and foamy blood spills from my mouth. I lie on my back, looking up at the sky as I choke on my own blood. I can still inhale with my other lung, but the pain is what cripples me. The wound smokes and steams where the cursed stygian iron seared me. It feels like the wound is being doused with vinegar.

I make my way to my knees desperately, seeing triple. This wound won't kill me immediately, but my strength is draining rapidly. Korren stands above me believing she's won.

No, that cannot be.

"Fuck you." I gargle, whipping my dagger out of my boot and slashing the tendon in her knee with it. There's a nasty pop as it rips and her leg goes slack. She hits the ground wailing next to me and I roll away so she can't reach me with her own sword, which splits the dirt where my head was.

I force myself to my knees, wheezing for breath. My chest is burning so bad I can barely think now. She holds her knee, desperately trying to get up. Unable to regain my own feet, I pick my sword up and raise it above my head. Still on my knees, I fall forwards and swing down as hard as I can.

She sees the blade coming down at her face and turns away instinctively. She gasps in consternation and rolls to avoid a fatal blow, but not enough to negate all damage.

My sword hacks her arm off at the elbow. She screams in shock, clutching what's left of the limb.

My core starts to convulse, and I realize there's not much time left for me. I crawl forward, determined to put an end to her. I drag my body on top of hers.

"Three pints. Remember?" The unearthly growl escapes me. She acknowledges me and begins to thrash when I pull my knife.

I slash her throat open, slicing until her airway is exposed. She spasms beneath me, the stump of her arm trying to push me off of her. I shove my hand into the wound, reaching up into her throat. I find her tongue, pinch it between my thumb and forefinger, and rip it back and down her throat.

As tissue tears, she wails beneath me, thrashing in agony. I pull her tongue down and out until it hangs out of her slashed throat, then watch her drown on her own blood. The grisly deed done, I fall down next to her.

I know my own wounds will be fatal, but it doesn't matter.

This war is over.

Everything starts to fade, but someone appears in my vision.

"Hang in there." Apollo says, raising a glowing hand.

I feel my wounds close and my lung reflate. Every last wisp of pain leaves my body, and Percy scoops me up in a tight hug.

"I told you not to die, dammit!" Tears streak his face and he sobs, clutching me.

I wasn't paying attention during the fight, but something tells me he tried to interfere. If the gods weren't present to enforce rules, he would've killed Korren before I could.

I happen to look down at Korren's body, and a gag escapes me.

Oh no...

Her face is expressionless, a pool of blood surrounding her throat. Despite her blank eyes, I know she is conscious in the underworld, facing undead judges that will show her further horrors as a result of the life she lived.

I did that. In my horrible anger, I ripped her tongue out of her throat. Now she's in the underworld, in the fields of punishment, no doubt enduring further torment. Why did I do that?

Why did I do that?

I lock eyes with Ares, and everything clicks.

His aura inflamed my anger, my bloodlust, my nastiest qualities. It was probably intentional too, because Korren didn't seem to be affected in the same way. Now his influence leaves me, and I see what I've done.

I hate him for it, but I'm not sure he's the only one I hate.

Later, I gather my stuff in Percy's cabin. We've won the opportunity to go to Rome and distance ourselves from these gods.

Something still bothers me.

Percy folds his clothes on the other side of the room.

"Annabeth that was disgusting. I know she deserved it, but still."

This is what I feared. That he shares my disgust at Korren's grisly end.

"Didn't you sense it? Ares affected me. I was sickened when I looked down at her after battle." I say defensively.

Korren left scars on both my body and mind, but all I can think about is the way I ended her...

"It was all his doing?"

"Not entirely. I wanted revenge, but I wouldn't have ever done that." I say.

That's when I realize I'm convincing myself as well. How much of my brutal display was of his influence? Am I really that fucked up?

He zips his bag shut and comes over to help me pack.

"You could've killed her a few times, but you stepped back. Why?"

"I... I was arrogant. I wanted her to suffer. Ultimately, that's why I almost lost. It was foolish of me."

"Well suffer she did. Whether that was Ares's influence or not, do you feel better? Now that you've had your revenge?"

"I... I'm not sure what I feel."

That's a lie. I know exactly what I feel. Ashamed. Her death was a nasty display, and when I consider the fact that she'll be punished for eternity in the underworld, what right did I have to do what I did? Am I really any better than her?

I look up and realize that Percy is watching me closely. I try to repair my expression, but he's already glimpsed my feelings. He sees my guilt, my shame.

Tears form in my eyes. Sobs follow.

I open my mouth to apologize, but who am apologizing to? What for? I sob, embarrassed at my vulnerability.

He hugs me, reminding me that he still loves me, somehow understanding of my situation.

I'm despaired, but it's not derived from any identifiable source. I'm confused as hell. I don't know how I feel about Korren's end. I'm not sure how I feel towards the gods. I don't know how I feel about my actions.

I don't know how I feel about myself.

My mind is obtunded, and I don't know what to feel, to think, to do. There is only one thing I can confide in. There is one constant. There is one person who I can trust, who I can depend on, who I know with absolute certainty will be there for me.

He is the only one who has been through as much as I have. He is the only one who understands me. He is there to ensure my wellbeing, physical and mental. We have a future together.

Percy.

We sit together on the bus that takes us to the airport, leaning against each other, dozing off as we've done before in much worse situations. He breathes softly, sleeping soundly against me, trusting of me.

I look at him, at his scars, his pain, his past torment, and hot anger swells and smolders in the cell I've suppressed and locked it into. I want to let it surface, to wreak vengeance on his behalf. What did he ever do, that he should have to endure what he has? I think of my own grisly torment, of my trials, my pain. What did either of us do? What's "right?" Is that what we did that cost us so dearly?

How could the gods be so negligent? All I wanted was to resign and live with Percy, but that was taken and raped, replaced with literal hell on earth. I eked out a torturous existence, entombed in stone and pain, while the gods sipped their wine, ate their grapes, and lifted not one all-powerful finger.

Nobody deserves my pain, let alone us - the two people who have served the gods more than anyone else. Whether they realize it or not, they have spat on my remaining loyalty, and on me as well. They stood idly while we were slowly tortured to the brink of death, refused to liberate camp as Hyperion was burning campers alive, and then they swoop down from the heavens on a whim after a two minute discussion and wipe out our enemies in under an hour.

For this, a debt is owed.

Perhaps one day I'll collect it, but for now, Rome awaits Percy and I.

The End For Now.