Chapter Seventeen: Kill Me

Aion's POV

It was taking longer than he originally thought, two quick steps to equal Zoё's one slow. He couldn't believe they had about, from what his wife told him, thirty minutes left until the entrance. That damned limp. That damned limp had slowed their progress down massively. Aion was about ready to cut off his foot and hop the rest of the way. At least that was faster than limping, by far.

He tried his best to hide his injuries, although it was hard to keep all his freely bleeding wounds in check. He didn't want Zoё to worry over petty things like this. Every second she wasted checking him over was a second gained for Ouranos. Each step he took made Zoё wince, as if she was the owner of the pain, not him. Each cough attack scared her. He felt it was his fault she acted the way she did. She didn't have to waste her energy to heal his broken ribs. She didn't have to help him walk. Most of all, she didn't have to tell him to take his time as he walked. They both knew Ouranos could be traversing the hallways and catch them. It would be only a matter of time before Artemis and Luke were found, and Aion wanted his daughter back alive more than anything.

Zoё gently shook him. It took a moment for him to realize he had stopped walking- er, limping. "Hey," she murmured. "You okay?"

Aion nodded. "Just... Tired. Tired is all." He lied.

Zoё looked concerned but she didn't push him. "Alright. We've about a good fifteen minutes' worth left. We should hurry."

Aion tried to speed up in his pace, but it only succeeded in making him tire faster. He wouldn't risk it. The heal Zoё had given him was already fading fast, blaring pain in his lungs enflaming. He forced himself to take short, subtle breaths, so it wouldn't affect him as much.

How did he earn this pain again? Ah, yes. The tridents. The tridents that were dipped in Ouranos's crazy hand-selected poisons before being forced through his body. He remembered it quite well.

The sensation had been livid. It reminded him of a wildfire gaining the upper hand of a battle with his own body. His bones were snapped into a million irreplaceable little pieces, each drowning in their own ocean of lava. His skin had felt like it was ripped from him, layer by layer, as each trident was shoved through. He could only think of one merciful thing to save himself of the torture: Kill me. Please.

But Aion wasn't one to give up easily. He was one of the Ten; he shouldn't! Though maybe it was okay. Maybe Lord Chaos would understand and... And no, he would not. He definitely would not allow it. Lord Chaos was probably shaking his head in disappointment at Aion right now, even. Without a second thought he'd be stripped of his immortality, released from his duties as assassin, and sent back to the dreaded Earth to live out the remainder of his life. What would his family do without him? His friends? No. No way would he let it happen.

Aion thought back to at least a week ago, when he had fought those wind spirits. His "pets" as Ouranos had called them. They'd overwhelmed him, he knew that. And then...? Nothing. Had Ouranos dragged him to that torture room? Probably. He figured out that much. After Aion woke up, Ouranos had told him some things, most of which made no sense. Artemis was safe, he said. Aion could leave any time he pleased. It was merely a friendly talk; he wasn't a prisoner of war... Not yet at least... Lies, lies, lies, they were. All a bunch of goddamn lies.

Once he refused to tell Ouranos anything, Ouranos brought in his arranged instruments of torture, different each day. He was determined to make him crack. Sometimes it was daggers, needles, and arrowheads. Other times it was swords, scythes, and tridents. The days varied, ending when Aion lost consciousness. It took a while to break his bones in two. A blessing from Chaos it seemed, though he didn't feel it was. More like an excuse for other means of suffering.

But Ouranos would get creative with it. The blood on those walls was enough proof of that. The blood gathered in puddles only served to advertise its purpose: Aion was completely powerless there, despite his title.

The never-ending hallway they walked through, Aion noticed, was covered with Ouranos's pictures and a perfect kind of color underneath that- white. Such a beautiful, peaceful shade it was. So pristine, so untouched, so flawless... Nothing could be that flawless. It wasn't fair, it simply wasn't. Crimson deserved to run its way down in wild, uncontrolled streaks. Streaks so wild Ouranos could never wash off, so they could remind him of the torture he inflicted on him every time he would walk past it.

Aion pulled out a knife. Revenge... Revenge was a sweet thing. He paid no attention to Zoё's protests as he brought it up to his hand... A deep cut would do the job. He trailed it down, unveiling a clear line of blood. The pain didn't bother him as much- a stinging sensation. He greeted it as he would greet an old friend- with open arms.

It didn't even take a second. Aion's weapon was out of his hands in a blur. Then came Zoё's careful voice comprised of many pauses and echoes: "Don't... Understand? Aion. Lord... Heal you... Worry... Hurry."

His mouth conformed to the words he planned to say, but they didn't sound his. It was as if they came from someone else, someone much more different than himself. Someone weak. "Blood, the walls, Zoё..."

"I know," she sighed and said something after that. Aion continued walking. In the back of his mind, he knew he should have been listening to his wife- his savior. What was it she said? He couldn't remember.

Zoё didn't say anything else for a while. She might have, but Aion didn't hear. The blood-begging walls angered him more and more. They needed to learn they didn't- couldn't- confine him.

"Cowards!" he yelled.

If it wasn't for Zoё, he would have punched those supercilious barriers on either side of him, demanding control. If it wasn't for her he would have lost his sanity. Zoё intercepted, shaking her head. She guided his raised fist to his side and resumed walking. Aion followed suit. Why was she acting this way? He didn't do anything. He was not insane. He felt fine, the pain didn't bother him as he walked. In fact, he didn't feel any pain. He kept moving. The farther from that hell, the better.

Perhaps it was Lord Chaos? Was it Lord Chaos numbing his body from the pain? But he was busy with paperwork. Why would he spend his much-needed time interfering with this situation, of all others? Aion didn't know. He focused on his breaths, getting quicker as his energy was zapped from him. Why did walking take so much effort?

"Look," Zoё said suddenly, excited. She pointed to something ahead of them. "Don't you see it?"

He wasn't sure what he was supposed to be looking at. The more he stared forward, the more out of breath he got. Zoё's bright, cheerful expression didn't match his at all. How did they get married again? How did they even meet? They were polar opposites...

"We made it," she said. He shook his head. "Aion, the entrance."

Entrance. Such a funny word. An entrance was a beginning of things, one could say. Entered into the world, escaping from one's mother. One spent the rest of their life, choosing, deciding, living their life. What did Aion do? He ran away from it- his life. Such a weakling he was... Why did Lord Chaos ask him to join his force? He wasn't strong, he wasn't powerful. He wasn't even a born leader. Why?

The universe didn't deserve him. The soldiers didn't need him. Hell, his family could cope without him. Zoё was just doing this because she had to. Ouranos was right.

He was right.

But Zoё did need him. And Artemis. And the soldiers. And the universe. He was born into the world for a reason. Why did he even think he was useless?

The blurred object Zoё had pointed to grew bigger, grander, the closer they got. Trees inhabited the area, a large fireplace built into the wall on his left. The tops of the trees covered the ceiling as foggy clouds helped comprise the rest of the room. But something was out of place.

At the head of one of the trees sat a female figure, slim and full of scars, like Aion. Was she another prisoner? She had on black assassin's clothes, her hair wild. A rush of memories flooded through him and Aion almost fell forward. This female was his daughter, Artemis. He mouthed her name as he sped up. Artemis. Artemis.

After what seemed like forever, he reached her. With blazing pain he sank down to his knees and examined his daughter. She lay on a jacket, her forehead sweaty, her expression blank, unconscious. Deep wounds and scars ran down her body, as if she had run through a tsunami of swords and knives. Hot tears dripped down his cheeks at the broken sight of her- Ouranos's test subject, no doubt. He brushed away some ebony strands of hair out of her face and wiped the tears out of his eyes. Artemis was safe. His daughter was safe.

Safe. Aion was losing consciousness, his will to fight it giving up completely. He felt himself hit something hard. Pain erupted from its cage, overwhelming him every second with repeated force, getting stronger each round, but he didn't care. Aion let it overtake him without a second thought. Maybe at least this time death would take him.

Zoё was well aware of her husband's blood loss. She was also well aware of his lack of sanity. Spending eternal days locked up in a dark room filled with a person's blood could do that to them, especially when they were tortured. Zoё was gentle with him, careful of setting something off inside of him. She helped him walk, hoping that would speed up his pace. Instead it sped up the killing of his energy. She knew it would be any moment Ouranos would find them in the corridors, but they made it. They made it without getting captured and Zoё was determined in leaving unnoticed.

From what Luke had told her, it was tough to get Artemis out. She was out of her cell and stormed by the wind spirits by the time he got there. He had scooped her up, shielding her with his body, when he heard Annabeth's cries for help; not to abandon her, whoever he was. Luke had tossed a knife in Annabeth's direction and told her to find a way; she was a daughter of Athena after all.

Then he turned and ran with an unconscious Artemis in his arms. It was about a minute, he said, that he heard screaming. Pleas to wait. Luke had slowed down in his pace, so Annabeth could catch up. Another minute and he heard her footsteps behind him.

They ran for a while, each in a matching rhythm. Annabeth had surprising stamina for being locked up as well. At the trees, Luke had set Artemis down, collecting his knife from Annabeth. He was pressed with questions but told the daughter of Athena almost nothing. Now she sat nearby Artemis, eyeing the walls' decorations.

"I didn't know she would be there too," Luke added. "But she does better when under pressure."

Zoё then told him her side of the story. She felt her eyes tear up at the mention of Aion's condition, but she steeled her emotions. She mentioned everything, excluding his lack of sanity. She feared Luke wouldn't treat her husband the same if he heard. Some things weren't meant to be told, as Lord Chaos had said.

"I'll open up the portal and we can leave," she finally said. Luke went over to alert Annabeth as Zoё closed her eyes for concentration. She took a deep breath and opened up her palm- nothing. Usually this was the moment when an ebony colored sphere of energy would bloom. Zoё closed her hand again and concentrated harder. She opened her hand up again, sure it would appear. Just as before, nothing.

A dirty laugh hit Zoё like a steel wall. She recognized it instantly as Ouranos's, from her dream.

"Did you really think I wasn't aware of your actions?" he asked.

Wind spirits lined the walls. An extra row guarded the door and Zoё found herself being strangled and pushed to the floor. The harder she fought, the harder she was pushed down. It was as if she was fighting herself. She stopped struggling once she felt herself tire; she needed to preserve her energy.

"Weakling slaves!" Luke shouted behind her. He, too, was being overtaken by the wind spirits. "Fight me yourself, Ouranos!"

Ouranos's loud laughs sang in Zoë's ears. "To the dungeons, my pets! To the dungeons."

Zoё let herself be carried away. She was turned around, almost blowing her composed demeanor. A steel wall of anger slammed into her once she saw the horrid scene play out in front of her: Artemis carried by the wind spirits, Aion surrounded, Luke on the ground, and Annabeth sprawled, unconscious.

The worst thing? She couldn't do anything about it.