Aaaaand we're back! Time for the exciting conclusion... Haha ;)

Hey young blood / Doesn't it feel like our time is running out?
I'm gonna change you like a remix / Then I'll raise you like a phoenix

Annabeth had just made it down from the mezzanine (despite quite a few attempts to stop her in her tracks) when she spotted Kronos through the crowd, and she was still a distance away when she watched him shoot her fiancé in the chest.

Her heart skipped a beat as Percy was thrown onto his back by the force of the bullet, and she had to quickly remind herself not to worry. She knew his suit jacket was lined with Kevlar—a safety precaution upon which she'd insisted—so the direct hit would undoubtedly bruise, but his life wasn't forfeit just yet.

Rather, she'd be a complete idiot not to make good use of Kronos's temporary distraction. Her gun had been stolen a few minutes ago, so without another glance at her fiancé, she rushed silently up behind her former employer and left him only a few seconds to laugh in imagined triumph before she threw an arm around his neck and trapped him in a tight chokehold.

She didn't expect the move to be a checkmate, but with luck it would at least serve to shake him up and distract him for a time. His laugh turned at once to a frustrated growl as his hands shot up and latched onto Annabeth's arm. He pointed his gun blindly over his left shoulder, but she shifted easily out of his line of fire. She kicked at the back of his leg in an attempt to force him to his knees, but it didn't quite work. Instead she earned a sharp elbow to the ribs before he was finally able to tear her arm away from him. She took a few hurried steps backward as he whirled around and was ready to grab his gun arm the second he stretched it out. She twisted, still holding onto him, and stomped hard on his foot, then smacked the back of her head against his nose. She wrested the gun from his grip, but before she secured a solid hold on it he snagged a handful of her hair and pulled her head back. She gritted her teeth as pain snaked across her scalp and somehow allowed Kronos to knock the weapon from her hands. She fought herself free and turned, placing a bit of distance between the two of them.

"I understand why you might be a bit put off," Kronos said to her, his voice a growl from exertion. "How does it feel, Chase? Now that I've taken away the reason you betrayed me in the first place. I have to ask—why do you still bother fighting?"

As he talked, Annabeth did her best to stare straight at him, regardless of how badly she wanted to look behind him at her fiancé. She was rewarded for her efforts by Kronos's complete lack of preparedness when Percy appeared behind him and swung a metal serving tray against the side of his head, saying harshly as the man collapsed, "'Cause you're a dick."

Unable to stop herself, Annabeth reached out and grabbed the front of Percy's jacket, pulling it open and surveying his shirt for blood. As she'd suspected, there was none—in fact, the bullet was still embedded safely in the thick fabric over his heart.

"You alright?" she asked seriously.

"Yeah, fine." He was breathing heavily, undoubtedly winded from the extreme blunt force right over one of his lungs. Aside from that, and a few scratches and bruises, he seemed perfectly healthy.

"How…" Kronos grunted as he rolled over and started to regain his bearings through what was sure to be a throbbing headache. "You were hit…"

Percy shrugged, tossing the serving tray aside. "I'm immortal. Shame you didn't figure that out before starting a losing fight."

With a growl, Kronos sprang to his feet, his speed surprising even Annabeth. He lunged for them and they quickly dodged to either side. As he pivoted and went for Percy, Annabeth took a few steps back and scoured the vicinity for a gun. She found one—but unfortunately for her it was still in the hands of a disguised agent. She threw herself to the ground as wild gunfire flew in her general direction and used the nearby tables as cover to try and get closer to the shooter. She threw a half-eaten dinner roll across the floor as a distraction and, when the agent looked away, darted out from her hiding place and attacked him. One hand pushed down his outstretched arms, pointing his gun at the floor, and with the other she threw a well-aimed punch at his cheekbone. When he twisted and got his gun back up, she ducked beneath his arms and came up on his right, swinging an arm over his and lifting a leg to land a roundhouse kick to his side. He doubled over and tried to drive his shoulder into her stomach, but she wound her leg around his neck and leapt off the ground, using her weight to force him the rest of the way to the floor. His head smacked the carpet and he went limp.

Annabeth grabbed the agent's gun and whirled toward the stage in time to see Kronos successfully mimic her earlier move—he swung an arm around Percy's neck from behind, locking him in place. Apparently, though, he wasn't intending it as a simple stall tactic.

"Nothing is immortal!" he yelled harshly as he whipped a five-inch blade from his jacket and held it out with taut muscles.

Annabeth's heart leapt into her throat. She quickly raised the agent's gun and fired, miraculously throwing a bullet at the knife's steel point and knocking it from Kronos's hand just as he began pulling it in.

Technically, she'd been aiming to shoot Kronos in the forearm. But this worked just as well. Another second and he would've gutted her fiancé.

As his blade went flying, Kronos shouted in alarm and, to Annabeth's relief, Percy used his distraction well. He threw a fist over his shoulder and punched Kronos in the face, then staggered backward and around to hurl Kronos's back against the edge of the stage. This caused the man to loosen his grip enough for Percy to duck out from under his arm and place enough distance between the two of them to kick Kronos in the ribs.

Doubled over, Kronos shifted sideways and climbed deftly onto the stage, pressing a finger to his ear and yelling, "To me! Now!"

Annabeth had almost reached them when she was halted by a poorly-aimed series of shots that jetted by in front of her. She staggered to a halt and whipped around, already returning fire. She managed to shoot one approaching agent in the torso, knocking her down, before the other two were on her. Dodging wild gunfire and throwing her now-empty weapon away, she darted sideways and kicked a nearby chair across the floor, tripping up one of her attackers. The other evaded it and made a grab for her, getting a momentary and weak latch on her dress before she pulled out of his reach. She swung a kick, which he ducked, and twisted sideways to dodge his return hook. She stepped behind him and pulled the second gun from his shoulder holster and whipped it against the back of his head, shooting him in the back for good measure as he dropped. Then she spun and placed a bullet in the other man's neck before he'd so much as touched her.

She saw movement to her right and threw herself sideways just in time to dodge the steak knife hurtling toward her through the air. It was likely a diversionary tactic, though, because half a second later the agent who'd thrown it shoved the nearest table forward and its opposite edge rammed against Annabeth's stomach, winding her. She saw the agent raise a gun, but before he could fire he was plowed by an SMG barrage from his right, courtesy of Piper. Annabeth exchanged a nod with her friend before returning her attention to the front of the hall.

Percy, Kronos, and a handful of agents had taken the stage. Cursing, Annabeth ran for them without spending any more attention on the battle on the floor. She leapt onto the stage, shooting down two attackers on the way. Magazine empty, she pitched the useless gun and ambushed the nearest man, leaping onto his back and wrapping her arms around his neck. Surprised, he dropped to his knees, allowing Annabeth to step back and knee him hard in the head.

When he fell, she took a second to search for Kronos and Percy. They were still fighting each other, both seeming to have taken quite a few hits. As she watched, though, someone grabbed the neck of Percy's jacket from behind and tugged, yanking it down his shoulders and pulling his arms back. With a look of alarm he stumbled backward, barely managing to duck as Kronos took a savage swing at him. He pulled his arms out of his jacket, leaving it behind, and turned to kick its thief in the chest, sending the man stumbling off the edge of the stage.

Annabeth bit her lip in frustration—there went his last line of defense. Guess we'll just have to end this before they do, she thought to herself.

But even as she thought it, stray gunfire continued to streak toward them from across the room. Kronos's order had been to see them dead, after all, and his agents were more than willing to ensure that it was carried out. Annabeth was having trouble getting close to the others, but she was close enough to notice when a bullet from below pierced her fiancé in the side. He yelled and doubled over, allowing Kronos to laugh and land a wicked blow to his jaw, throwing him backward.

Annabeth's senses cleared as anger washed over her. She forgot all about the danger of stray gunfire and bolted across the stage, running toward Kronos. A shot grazed her shoulder as she sprinted, but she hardly noticed. Kronos turned to meet her, but a streak of alarm crossed his face—possibly at the fury in her expression.

She threw a right hook at his head and he lifted an arm to block, actually staggering a bit to the side from the force of the blow. She whipped her other fist at his gut and kneed him between the legs, landing a left hook to his jaw when he bent forward. He stumbled, barely dodging her next strike (possibly by sheer luck). He returned a swift blow to her stomach, but she didn't feel the pain. She was far too fueled by adrenaline. He seemed to realize that and instead went for a more direct approach; he checked his shoulder to her gut and hurled her to the wooden floor. Her back hit hard, but again she took little notice. She slid quickly backward before he secured a hold on her and swung her leg out, wrapping it behind his head and twisting her body sideways until she'd forced him onto his side. Then she kicked him in the shoulder and slid farther away, eyes critically scouring the area for a gun she could use to finish the job.

As she did so, however, Kronos stumbled to his feet and turned, starting to make a break for it. No you don't! Annabeth thought with a growl. Abandoning her search, she jetted after him, causing him to change direction and duck backstage. He almost tripped over some stage equipment in the dark, latching onto it momentarily, before darting around it and climbing hastily onto a set of metal framework stairs. He shot a glance over his shoulder as he did so, but Annabeth was still hot on his heels. She wasn't letting him get away, not this time.

She chased him up the stairs and onto a network of lighting catwalks that led above the stage. She caught up to him after barely a few steps and grabbed a fistful of his black jacket from behind, tugging him backward. He staggered, but recovered quickly, and pivoted to swing a powerful hook at her head. She ducked it and shoved him with both arms, sending him stumbling against a railing.

Then he did something that actually made Annabeth stop—he pulled out a gun.

She froze in the face of the barrel. She'd been sure he hadn't had a weapon on him—there was no evidence of one on his person as they'd fought, and even had it been expertly concealed, why wouldn't he have used it sooner?

Then it came to her—the set equipment he'd run into backstage. He must have stashed it ahead of time and retrieved it in his moment of need.

"I still can't understand it, Chase," he said between labored breaths, wiping blood from his mouth. His ice-blue eyes were cold and hard. "You were the best. The promise you showed… So why? Why fight this battle, when you know now that you can't win?"

Annabeth stood still, her muscles taut and her heart pounding. She thought back on all that had happened since she'd left the CIA—on everyone she'd met, everyone she'd come to love… and everyone she'd lost.

"Sometimes…" she decided, voice tight, "people don't fight to win. They fight to… survive, to protect the things they care about." She let her own gaze harden to match Kronos's. "That's why I fight this battle. That's why I fight you."

Kronos gave a furious growl and stepped forward. He pulled the trigger on his gun, but Annabeth had already dodged to the side. She reached out and grabbed his wrist, pointing it downward and trying to twist so he'd lose his grip. But his hold was rigid. With his other arm he shoved her back and spun around, driving an elbow toward her face. She leaned back in evasion, but in doing so stepped sideways into open air—the edge of the catwalk frame was closer than she'd realized.

Annabeth's heart skipped a beat as she fell, gravity seeming to increase on her like hands grabbing at her dress. She managed to snatch the edge with both hands before her balance completely left her, but as she glanced up and saw a pair of shiny black shoes beside her fingers, her tiny breath of relief ran dry.

"Your fight is over," Kronos said coldly, eyes twinkling with satisfaction as he pointed his gun down at her.

Almost, Annabeth said mentally, bracing her weight on her right arm. But not just yet.

As Kronos's finger hugged the trigger of his gun, Annabeth heaved herself up with her right arm and used her free hand to grab her former boss's ankle and pull. His surprise was great enough to eradicate his balance and he tumbled forward, free arm pinwheeling and eyes shooting wide. Unfortunately for Annabeth, the shift in his weight caused her own grip to fail and she lost her hold on the metal frame altogether. Also unfortunately for her, in Kronos's alarm he squeezed his grip on his gun and fired.

He'd been aiming for her forehead before, but the wild shot didn't miss completely. The bullet pounded the right side of her chest just below the shoulder and pierced through, and finally she was able to feel pain again. A lot of pain.

"ANNABETH!" a harsh voice called from below as her breath caught in midair. A familiar voice—Percy. So he was alright. That was good.

Time slowed down as the two former allies fell to the stage, but before she hit something snatched Annabeth out of midair and angled her fall into a slide at the last minute. She and her new captive dragged across the floor, breaking the fall somewhat—not that Annabeth particularly noticed the difference, given the blinding pain spreading across her torso.

Percy appeared leaning over her, seemingly from nowhere. There was distress on his face. She could see blood on his shirt where a bullet had grazed his side a little while ago.

"Annabeth—hang on, okay, I'm gonna get you out of here."

He raised his head, eyes darting quickly back and forth. Annabeth opened her mouth to respond that that'd be an excellent idea, but only a weak cough came out of it. What was wrong with her voice? And why did this seem so familiar? Like some kind of poorly-timed déjà vu?

"Jason!" Percy yelled, looking at something to Annabeth's right. "I need your—NO!" He jerked forward mid-sentence, before grunting in frustration and returning his attention to Annabeth. He offered no explanation; not that Annabeth could have asked, but she did wonder. Biting back a pained groan, she met his eyes as he went on in a forcibly firm voice, "Okay, we're fine, this is nothing. Just, uh… hang tight while I—"

Suddenly blood exploded from his left shoulder. He screamed through gritted teeth and hunched over, a hand grabbing the wound as another blotch of ugly red dyed his white shirt.

He twisted around and Annabeth peered past him, tunneled vision focusing first on the gun barrel pointed in their direction, then on the person holding it. Kronos looked quite decidedly worse for wear, but the glare on his face was as fierce as ever.

Though it took far too much energy, Annabeth managed to shift an arm enough to touch her fiancé on the leg. "Go," she told him. He looked back at her, his grimace subsiding, and she added hoarsely, "End this."

Percy didn't argue. Without so much as a nod of understanding, he got to his feet and sprinted toward Kronos. The CIA Director tried to get in another shot, but there wasn't enough distance between them and his hand appeared slick with blood. Percy kicked Kronos's arm and the gun went soaring, sliding across the stage toward Annabeth and out of everyone's reach.

Kronos retaliated by swiftly grabbing Percy's other leg and yanking it out from under him, knocking him to the stage floor. He lunged sideways but Percy rolled away, before leaning up and tackling Kronos from the side. He got above him and landed a punch to the man's face, then another, and another, before Kronos managed to swing an arm up and smack Percy's freshly-injured shoulder, winning himself a reprieve to shove Annabeth's fiancé off of him. They rolled over one another until Kronos wrestled himself free and thrust his hands around Percy's throat.

And then it hit Annabeth, why this all was so familiar—her dream. That horrible, vivid nightmare she'd had on the way to Las Vegas, in which Kronos had killed her fiancé and she, grievously wounded, had been helpless to stop it. Now it was happening again, right in front of her eyes.

Annabeth's vision blackened at the edges as she watched Percy struggle. The pain in her chest was turning to numbness—undoubtedly a very bad sign. But despite the hopelessness of the situation, some part of her still refused to give into the fact that this was the end for them. After all they'd been through, Kronos couldn't win now.

Her eyes lifted a few inches and landed on Kronos's gun, which rested forgotten a few feet to her left. She stretched out a hand, dull twinges of pain slithering across her torso as her muscles were pulled taut. But she couldn't quite reach. So she held her breath and used her other arm to push herself closer, sliding in a pool of liquid beneath her which she suspected was her own blood. Rather a morbid thought, actually.

Finally her fingers closed around the handle of the gun. Rather than fire it herself (in her weakened state, she knew her aim would be imprecise; she could just as easily put a bullet in her fiancé's brain), she tapped the barrel on the stage—just enough to get Percy's attention—before using what little strength of movement she had left to push the weapon across the stage toward him.

It worked. The gun slid within his reach and he snatched it up at once. He tried to shoot Kronos in the neck but the man dodged, seeing the attack coming. Fortunately, Percy seemed to expect this, as he immediately swung the gun against Kronos's head. And just like that, he was finally able to fight himself free.

Annabeth breathed out in relief—and regretted it at once when her lungs screamed in protest. She let her limbs relax and watched through dimming vision as Percy and Kronos both climbed to their feet, the latter gripping his head with a tight expression. His balance was unsteady—possibly he'd injured a leg falling from the catwalks. But he grew still when he turned to face Percy, who had taken a few slow steps backward and was holding the gun out, keeping the barrel trained steadily on Kronos's face.

And in that moment, the three of them seemed to come to the same realization: the war was over. There was nothing to stop Percy from finishing Kronos off. The Director's fight was finished.

"You could have worked for me," Kronos told Percy, his voice no longer sharp and venomous. Now it was weak, tired… hopeless. He spoke as though lamenting a long-lost dream. It was almost… sad. "You and I… We could have buried Olympus. Together."

"Olympus is my family," Percy responded. There was no anger or hatred left in his voice either, and his posture was perfectly still as he watched Kronos's expression passively. "I may be a killer… But I'm not a monster."

Kronos dropped heavily to his knees—a final gesture of surrender. "Haven't you learned by now?" he asked, his voice growing softer so that Annabeth could barely make out his words. The corner of his mouth inched upward—a smirk or a sad smile, she didn't know—as he finished, "There's no such thing as monsters."

For some reason, this broke the careful indifference on Percy's face. His eyes widened a fraction of an inch and he gritted his teeth as though in pain, before his hand clenched and he pulled the trigger.

The bullet pierced Kronos's forehead just above his left eye, and he fell to the stage—never to move again.

It was entirely surreal to Annabeth—and not just because the haze of pain and exhaustion blanketing her senses made it seem like she was watching through a monochromatic kaleidoscope. Kronos had signified everything she'd been fighting against since she joined Olympus—the regrets of her past, and the threat to her future. But with his end came the end of an era. It was like a rebirth—an award of true and complete freedom.

And even though she was probably dying, she started to believe that she was finally, truly free.

"You," Percy said calmly to someone Annabeth couldn't see. Her eyes, for some reason, could only focus on him. "Tell your squad it's over. And get out of here… while you still can."

A rustle of movement sounded at the vague edge of her senses and a muffled voice said urgently, "Attention all units—Director Kronos is dead. Abort mission. I repeat…"

And then it faded. All sound faded. Time stopped, and the last thing Annabeth saw before the world turned black was her fiancé—the man she'd risked and given everything for—turning toward her.

As her vision darkened, she imagined him smiling. And she managed a smile as well.

It felt good to be free.

Ta-da! Oh, there are unanswered questions? Stay tuned for the epilogue... ;)

-oMM