"'Go through the city after him and strike; do not let your eye have pity and do not spare.

Utterly slay old men, young men, maidens, little children, and women,

but do not touch any man on whom is the mark; and you shall start from My sanctuary.'

So they started with the elders who were before the temple…"

-Ezekiel 9:5

-Ω-

"Perseus Jackson," came an unfamiliar voice. It must've been a new doctor or something coming to check on him, and Percy opened his eye a sliver, mostly because he wanted to size up the newest entity that was going to perform the next wave awful tests and experiments on him. Despite the fact that his eyelids were barely parted, the lights of the hospital still blinded him. "Perseus, you must get up."

"Yeah, yeah, okay," Percy scoffed and managed to force his eyes open, which he blinked rapidly in order to adjust to the brightness. As spots danced in his vision, he sat up and turned in bed to face the newcomer, saying, "I just have a request; give me the roofies directly. I know you drug my food. Stop pretending that you're all sneaky and shit."

"I beg your pardon?"

Percy's eyes finally managed to adjust, and he was shocked to find that he wasn't in his lumpy cot in the hospital. Instead, he was in a lavish room adorned with silk and gold. Tapestries covered the walls, depicting what Percy could only assume were scenes from the Bible, judging from the fact that they all depicted Jesus in some way, shape or form. Percy had gone to church every Sunday before the shit had hit the fan, but he'd never really believed much in what the priest was sermonizing. The person before him, who most certainly wasn't a doctor, made him rethink his opinion.

"Who are you?" he demanded, leaping to his feet. The older man before him looked like a fifty something was trying to cosplay the Jesus in the tapestries, which wasn't uncommon in New York City, but the thing that distinguished him from your average run-of-the-mill NYC Jesus was the fact that he had glowing blue eyes and a pinstripe blue suit. It made Percy feel incredibly underdressed, what with the fact that he was still in his hospital gown.

"My name is Zeus," the cosplay Jesus replied.

"Zeus as in the Zeus? Zeus with the lightning bolts?" Perseus inquired, trying to sound skeptical, but he had to admit that his curiosity was peaking.

"Indeed, but I am also many other things," Zeus stated, and suddenly Percy was standing in front of a one-eyed, buff, armor-clad man. "I am also Odin." His form changed again to become a ripped shirtless dude with a falcon head. "And Ra." His form changed again to become a nondescript mist. "And Brahman." Hid form changed again to reveal the long-bearded dude always depicted watching over Saints. "And God." His form returned to normal, looking just as much of a Jesus cosplayer as ever, though the suit was really starting to get on Percy's nerves; it was ruining the whole effect.

"If you're all of the gods from all of the religions, then whose name do you use?" Percy asked instead of, like, bowing, which he later recalled wasn't the best idea.

"That doesn't matter," Zeus/Odin/Ra/Brahman/God replied, seeming slightly miffed at Percy's lack of respect but still willing to cooperate with the patient. "What matters right now, is you."

"Me?" Percy asked, feeling his heart skip a few beats. This is all a dream, he told himself. Just a weird, super-realistic dream. Only, when he pinched himself he didn't wake up- he felt the pain as he would in the regular world. "Where am I?"

"You are many places," Zeus told him cryptically, and when the god(s?) didn't offer more of an explanation, Percy swallowed around the lump in his throat. "But you just died at 5:48 p.m. EST in your hospital cot." Percy felt as if a carpet had been ripped out from underneath him, and he proceeded to turn and chuck his guts all over the floor, though he was shocked when the remains of the day's meals disappeared as soon as they touched the ground. He felt so dizzy that he had to sit back on the bed, clutching his hair and trying to keep himself from hyperventilating.

"So I'm dead?" he whispered harshly. "All that experimenting was for nothing? I was just someone who survived for a week longer than normal?"

"You're far from that, Perseus," the celestial entity responded. "I'm going to bring you back. I would've contacted you sooner, but I've been very much encumbered with preparations."

"Preparations? For what?"

"Armageddon." Percy thought he'd might pass out, and Zeus continued, "When you wake up, things will be exactly like they were. We are speaking in the span of several milliseconds as of this moment, and I'll have to release you from this before your body begins to completely shut down as the virus overtakes it."

"So you're giving me immunity? To the virus?" Percy murmured, awed as Zeus nodded. This meant that he'd be able to live long enough to escape the hospital. He'd be able to go back to his mom.

"But this comes with a heavy price, Percy. I could always choose another patient if you don't wish to carry out the tasks I am about to give to you. If you decide that you're not willing to participate, you'll have to stay here," Zeus warned, and Percy had been too busy plotting his getaway and fantasizing about his return to his mom that he wasn't paying much attention. He was stupid, so stupid.

"No, I'm good," he replied quickly. "So, what are the tasks?"

"There will be three others like you, all unique in their own respect, but you will be the first…"

-Ω-

Percy awoke to the sound of the wind screaming and rattling the boards that he and Frank had nailed over the holes in the roof. For a few minutes he just sat awake in his sleeping bag, staring up at the rafters and listening to the storm raging outside. Judging from what little he could see out of the stained glass windows, there was heavy snowfall, and he shivered from inside his sleeping bag, his breath misting the air. He sat up hesitantly, rubbing his eyes and slowly turning to Frank, who was still managing to sleep soundly despite the ugly weather. Knowing that, between Frank's bulldozer snoring and the wind outside, he would never be able to get back to sleep, Percy yawned widely and hauled himself to his feet, blinking blearily.

The Old Dutch Church had been where Frank and Percy had been staying for the past few weeks, and though it had its faults, Percy couldn't help but think of it as a home. He was glad for his socks, as well as the way his feet sunk into the carpet that they'd managed to salvage, and gazed around at their little hideaway with fondness. They'd managed to make it so much more habitable in the span of a handful of days, but with winter rolling around, Percy worried that they'd starve; though they had warm clothes, they lacked sufficient snow gear and would probably freeze to death if they ventured out to find food. The dogs would start becoming more desperate and would attack, and Percy wondered how much time in New York City they had left.

He would enjoy the Old Dutch Church while it lasted, though; it was much better than when he'd been waiting around in the hospital for those difficult few months. He recalled the dream, when he'd first been given his mission, and then recalled the dream that came after that, the one instructing him to wait for a teenaged boy with a war in his head to come along and then befriend him.

"He's the only one that I am unable to visit." Zeus had said. "He does not know of his calling, and you have to make sure to keep him company until he figures it out on his own- you must not tell him."

He shuffled over to Blackjack, whom they'd decided to allow inside as the clouds rolled in, and nudged him in the side. The old horse was immediately up and alert, turning his head towards the ex-patient as his ears rotated this way and that.

"Here is your steed." Zeus had murmured in Percy's ears as the ex-patient had watched Blackjack approaching. "Treat him well- he will follow you through thick and thin, and will serve you until you both are nothing more than dust in the wind."

What Percy hadn't expected was that apparently he could communicate with his "steed", and he had to admit that he still got a little freaked out whenever Blackjack spoke to him, despite the time he'd had to adjust.

'Sup, boss? Blackjack asked, tossing his head. These mats you brought in are super comfy. To make a point, the horse rolled a bit on said items, seeming mighty pleased with himself. Though he and Percy had conversed about almost everything under the stars, the horse still refused to tell Percy where he'd come from.

"I keep thinking that you're talking too loud," Percy whispered to him, plopping down next to where the horse was lying. "I forget that it's just in my head."

WELL THEN I BETTER SPEAK MORE SOFTLY TO MAKE SURE YOU'RE NOT UNCOMFORTABLE! Blackjack yelled, and Percy flinched, whirling to look over at Frank, who, unsurprisingly, was still fast asleep.

"Don't do that," Percy snapped, and he swore the horse grinned cheekily at him. The ex-patient ran a hand down his face and turned to Frank, watching his chest rise and fall in tandem with his snoring. "I wonder how long it will take for him to find out. The others can't wait forever."

It'll happen in time, don't worry, Blackjack assured. And don't fret about the others. They can be patient.

"I hope so," Percy murmured.

-Ω-

"Percy, we have to leave," Frank announced through chattering teeth, clasping his hands against his chest under the blanket. Despite the fact that he and Percy had patched up all the holes long ago, the Old Dutch Church was still drafty, enough so that his breath was clouding in the air. The ex-patient didn't reply, staring down at his fingers, which were starting to go pink. "Percy, we can't stay here. We'll both die and you know it."

There was a long pause, only the sound of Blackjack's snuffling and the wind screaming outside filling the silence.

"I understand," the green-eyed boy finally replied, turning his head to look over at their horse, whom they'd brought inside as the snowstorm raged around them. Now, snow wasn't unheard of in New York, and it wouldn't've been an issue if they'd had proper winter gear or even some hats and gloves. Sadly, they lacked both of those things, and Frank knew that it was time for them to leave and go south.

"I was thinking that we get to Florida," Frank suggested, wrapping the blanket tighter around his shoulders. "Or at least the Carolinas. Somewhere without much weather change."

"It'll take months," Percy pointed out, "And even if we're immune to Beelzebub's Print, we could be bringing traces of it to potentially populated areas."

"If the areas are so populated, why hasn't the military come by now to search for survivors?" Frank prompted, and Percy rolled his eyes so hard Frank feared they'd roll right back into his skull. "Everyone's dead and you know it."

"Beelzebub's Print is the most infectious disease in the history of anything," Percy deadpanned hobbling over to sit down next to Blackjack. "Nobody knows anything about it or what causes it. Do they really want to risk sending out people to their inevitable slaughter? NYC and Long Island are probably in complete quarantine."

"You might be right, but I just need to get out of here. I need to survive," Frank responded, rising to his feet. Suddenly, he felt a surge of anger come from nowhere, and he balled his hands into fists. "And I don't care who gets killed in the process."

-Ω-

(A/N) So a lot of you have been requesting a Percy POV chapter, so here it is! I really liked writing this chapter because I was able to incorporate more from the PJO/HOO universe.