Chapter 26: Hurricanes Ho!
It wasn't much, but Artemis understood the message she saw before she woke up:
zoe and hypnos – destroy
What she didn't understand was why he needed to write it like that, because if for another possible outcome that she didn't get it, she would've thought that he had joined the enemy in universe domination. It's not like someone other than her would be able to see it... right?
On the bright side, it was a great precaution. Works for everyone who wasn't an idiot.
Which she obviously wasn't. In most cases.
…
So she'd awoken. For a tiny bit of time. Enough time to know that there were people in the elevator, and their only way out was temporarily unavailable because... well, the weight was over the limit.
And it wasn't like she weighed much. Besides, weight was a dangerous subject to tackle while talking with a lady. Just a friendly tip to all people out there.
She wondered if they would ignore her since she was asleep (and a weak mortal, to boot!) but she didn't have any time to find out before the first one struck a hand at her carriage.
Artemis leapt off to a direction, while Angel and Nico (her carriage) scattered. She dodged another claw.
"Damn, lady! You were awake the whole time, weren't you?" The other goddess threw a leer at her accusingly, but not necessarily one to spite.
"He woke me up," Artemis retorted breathlessly, kicking the Cyclops where it hurt, causing it to keel over. She grabbed its club from its softening grip and proceeded to pound the beast with it.
After being turned into a mortal, she'd lost the ability to summon her symbol of power (which was now lost somewhere in another dimension), which sucked, and her physical strength (which was now called luck, sometimes crotch-kicking horsepower) had diminished significantly, which also sucked.
So yes, she so obviously needed a weapon but couldn't just force a weapon out of an opponent's hands unless she used the aforementioned strength.
She was thankful that the physical skills were still there. At least that way, she didn't have to be useless like a freaking Bella.
It wasn't too hard finishing the Ordians off, since there were only just six of them; the limit of the elevator was eight people, and a Cyclops already carried the weight of two. Artemis was the most exhausted though; less stamina was part of the things that sucked. Although, she had no idea why she wasn't complaining or even expressing distaste at her miserable fate. Maybe because she had a feeling that they would come back later..?
Angel went to stop the doors from closing. She glanced at the way they came from. "I can't believe they didn't hear all that."
"It's soundproof from the inside," Artemis explained briefly.
Nico looked wary. "Thalia."
"I sent her somewhere safe," the goddess-turned-mortal assured them. "She would know to stay put for a while. But we need to tell the gods about this situation. And I would need a place to sleep."
"Hold on, weren't you just sleeping earlier?" Angel questioned dubiously.
"Yes, but—Percy. I have a feeling he has something important to say," she said, looking at them expectantly.
The other goddess remained neutral, while Nico winced and looked away. "Maybe not now, Lady Artemis," he disagreed quietly, as though anticipating that she would burst any second. "But we have to wait until it's all clear before we all take a rest."
Artemis scrutinized his silent form a tad doubtfully.
Angel cleared her throat. "Uh, I'll tell the gods about the elevator." Then she disappeared, leaving the two in awkward companionship, both thinking the same thing: She's a devil.
The boy stepped up and claimed the goddess's abandoned self-assigned task of keeping the elevator doors open.
It was so silent, Angel might as well have been gone for forever.
Then Nico spoke. "What do you think it is?"
Artemis almost jumped, startled. "Is what?"
"What he'll tell you." She noticed a grimace surface for a split second.
"I... just think it's important."
He didn't reply for a while. "How do you talk to him?"
"He sends me dreams."
"Like a god," he said, his voice laced with grim amusement.
She nodded.
He let out a shallow breath. "Since when?"
Artemis pursed her lips. "The start."
Nico nodded as if he was expecting this. "Are you his new best friend?"
Then she hesitated. Should she tell the truth, or... the half-truth..? "I guess you can say that."
The boy exhaled, and then gave her a small smile with his thin, crisp lips. "I hope he treats you well. Not leaving you or anything."
His statement sounded almost bitter. On instinct, she would have assumed that another boy had started to cross his self-induced boundaries of bashfulness and was making it damn obvious enough for her to notice, but looking back on her almost nonexistent memories of seeing the immortal boy mostly alone and sulking, she gave herself time to breathe and be patient. With her mind clearer, she recalled hearing similar things from some people close to her heart..
"I mean, he seemed like that type of person," he continued, getting quieter by the second. "First with Bianca, and then not showing up for two weeks, and then disappearing for eight months... and then when he made us think he's dead." He looked at her through the reflective elevator walls. "Like, us us."
He meant us us like us not-including-you.
She now recognized his tone. "Do you hate him? Or me?"
It was silent for a long time.
"I have no reason to hate you," Nico then said in a monotone. "I don't have a grudge on you for taking my sister. It was her choice."
"No, about him."
He didn't reply for a while. "I told you, no."
"Percy?"
He looked away. "I don't hate him. I don't."
Artemis understood. It was complicated, but she understood.
It was Sunday, there was a freak hurricane that wasn't supposed to happen in the first place, and more than twice he'd almost gotten caught in it.
So yes, his day was just peachy.
But as Percy thought about the forthcoming meeting he had implied upon leaving, he felt inexorably giddy and excited and nervous, thinking, like all hopeful guys would be, that if all went well, maybe, just this once, he'd consider that dream a reality. It would happen so, because he would make it happen.
He wasn't worried when she didn't drop by that Saturday night, which was already presumably an early Sunday for her. She's okay, he'd told himself. A mortal Artemis was a pissed Artemis. A pissed Artemis was an invincible Artemis. Nothing would happen to her, not something particularly bad.
Instead, he was (just a tiny bit) worried that she didn't understand what he'd said and that most opportunities point and show themselves at the end of the war if ever they all survive, and afterward it would be useless. But it wasn't that he was only doing it because something happened to her; what he meant, it was the worst time to do it, anyway. But somehow, just maybe, it would also be the best, since the pressure of the war would loom lowly over them like a cloud, and just maybe, because of that, she would forget how much of a nervous wreck he had been as though he was an actual youthful teenager and not a fifty-year-old who would soon get the biggest responsibility to ever fall to a person's hands, if he could still ever be called a person, and that, with any luck, she would forget to laugh at him about it.
But don't worry. Worrying was stupid. He would just sleep and he would be surprised to see her there, and she would mock him for being surprised, mock offended, and he would hug her and think, I knew I was worrying over nothing. And then she would say, as if reading his mind, You really didn't think I would understand it? That's offending.
But he worried anyway, like all good boyfriends would because he excelled in that stuff.
Besides, he thought people (ladies) with more knowledge about life and death and everything in between than psychologists and philosophers were unfathomably sexy and appealing.
Imagining a future with her gave the heir a sense of hope that they would win this war. Order had been mostly passive at throwing his minions at them (if by minions he counted freak hurricanes in), and if Arc would be doing what Percy thought he would be doing, it should be a big leap. Or it could be a big fall, it depends. He would just have to trust his son, his son, to be able to do what he does best.
Standing up, he brushed himself off his musings and started making his way to the nearest camp.
…
As he was welcomed into the camp (rather guardedly), he could only think that it hadn't changed much from the short time he'd been there. It seemed like an eternity ago.
He looked around at the well-masked suspicious faces, noting, with approval, that they were alert as they should be. He wasn't surprised that they didn't know or even recognize him. With Reyna, Percy would never be known in the next generations of the legion except by those who worked with him and knew him personally—and they were all most likely veterans residing in New Rome. He could swear that that girl hated his guts.
There was a new pair of praetors, whom he was introduced to, as per tradition. A son of Bellona and a legacy of Mars. Almost like the pair from years ago.
They led him to Camp Jupiter after the crowd scattered. Apparently, a new kid didn't appear very often these days. The thought made him wince.
"Something wrong?" the female praetor asked him.
"Yeah." Because there really was. "It's my stomach."
They eyed the bandage, which was visible through his shirt and was wrapped around his torso. The shirt that he purposefully changed into was yellow, so it would look like the bandage was clean.
"We will get you to a medic after your admission is sorted out," the male replied this time. "For formalities sake, what's your name?"
"Percy."
The two exchanged glances. Percy felt a rush of relief. Maybe Reyna had told people about him after all. That would save truckloads of explanation. He wasn't really that good with words and audience.
"Alright.." The female praetor trailed off, but not breaking stride. "Let's continue this in front of the dogs."
…
"A group of Romans have been executed to scout the perimeter for enemies, Sir," the male praetor, Francis, said, despite Percy's insistence to not call him 'sir'.
After a quick and shortened story (he had to explain, after all) without the dogs reacting even once, the praetors accepted it, but didn't go announcing it by Percy's request. Now, they put up with a temporary barrage of orders from him, since he knew better, and gave these orders to the Romans with the front of a born leader, as though it had been their decision and theirs alone. They still had their pride, after all.
"Great. Now we just have to wait," Percy said, smiling pleasantly. Francis relaxed, but then the heir suddenly frowned. "On second thought, do any of you have a position in the council at my camp?"
The praetor's brow furrowed. "Uh.."
"Perseus," the female praetor, Maren, cut in, entering back into the Principia. If Francis didn't use his name, she didn't use his nickname, despite the same insistence.
"Yeah?" Percy spun his swivel chair. His eyes widened.
"Percy!" Frank and Hazel surged forward and engulfed him in a group hug.
"G-guys," the heir stammered, evidently surprised. "Y-you're—"
"What?" the son of Mars urged.
"You've grown."
They laughed. "Of course we would. We declined immortality."
Percy blinked. "You what?"
"Yeah." Hazel pouted, still the old-fashioned teenager he'd known her to be. "And here I thought you were the omnipotent god."
"I'm not," he agreed. "I'm just—"
"Immortal?" Frank grinned, looking him up and down. "Looks like it."
"I thought you still had someone tying you," Hazel mused. "Your parents. Us. Annabeth, before she, um." She winced. "Sorry."
Percy took a breath and let it out, calm. "Don't worry about it. Francis..," he trailed off as he caught sight of the third person Maren brought into the room. "Reyna!"
He grinned and hugged the stunned woman, who, despite being physically older, was shorter than he was by a few mere centimeters. His intense training regime did stretch his muscles a bit more than his normal training did.
"What's the definition of personal space," he heard her grumble.
He detached from her. "How are you, Queen I'm-the-best-and-you're-meeting-my-fist-if-you-say-otherwise?"
Reyna glared at him. "Remember it."
Yup, that woman hates him.
"You wouldn't believe this, Percy," Hazel stage-whispered, grinning as she nudged her long-lost friend with her elbow. "She's married."
Apparently, twenty years have made her into the modern day lady. A great change.
The son of Chaos stared at the former praetor as if she was from outer space, which was saying something since he'd seen those firsthand before. "Really?"
Reyna glared harder, her cheeks steadily turning rosy. "Shut up."
Francis then cleared his throat, fresh from talking to a centurion. "I'm sorry for intruding, Sir, Consul—"
"Consul?" Percy interrupted, turning to Reyna quizzically. "Consul?"
She raised an eyebrow testily. "Problem?"
Percy coughed, and then looked at Francis. "Yeah, sorry. And?"
"I just had reports that the scouts have returned, and they said—"
"Hold on," Reyna said, frowning, "you were the one giving out orders?"
The heir blinked, before smiling widely. "But of course."
"They said that there were no enemies nearby, Sir," Francis finished dutifully, although looking a bit peeved at being interrupted twice.
"Awesome," Percy said, unfazed. "Now, let me know the number of units in the camp."
"Uh, at this time, around a hundred, Sir."
"What about the veterans in New Rome?"
"The latest census says around two hundred citizens," Maren answered this time. "Counting elderly and children, although the ratio of veterans to non-combatants is three to one."
Percy was silent, thinking it over. Assuming the majority at New Rome were still able-bodied, they would be sufficient to stay put at the camp. For the one hundred campers... presumably, most of them were in their teens, so about half of those should stay, counting the prepubescent. If, say, fifty campers go, it would take three turns to get everyone through... if that 'through' was still here.
If he was to pass his camp on the way.. Nah, it was probably strong enough on its own. Chaos had told him that it was a Greco-Roman camp. He'd call later to make sure.
As for Olympus... he would go there on his own.
Looks like a meeting really was inevitable.
…
His shoulders hunched, he was clutching his bandaged stomach, in pain, dread, and remorse. The trio of emotions slowly pooled inside his stomach, swirling, almost making him writhe in discomfort. Percy continued walking.
He may have looked calm on the outside, but he couldn't have. He was sending more people out to war. He'd been so used to going out at missions by himself that he'd forgotten the feeling of losing a man under him. The thought of it returning to him filled him with fear.
Please tell me I'm doing the right thing, he thought, looking skywards. Mom, Zoë, tell me... what—?
The stars of The Huntress dimmed. He deflated. It was almost as if she was telling him to piss off.
"My name is Percy Jackson. Yes, I'm alive. Yes, I'm Chaos' son and heir. No, I won't tell you how I hid from you. Yes, I was sorry about that. No, I'm not single. (That made Reyna and Hazel, who besides Frank were the only non-campers in the Senate House, raise an eyebrow, and a number of the lady centurions to pout.) No, I'm not here to stay; I'm here to lead you through the war."
At present, the Senate was still silent at these words.
"Now, would you be willing to side by me?"
The lower-ranked officers, including the three veterans in their thirties, turned to the two praetors. They seemed to be resolved of just riding with their leaders.
Noticing this, Percy added, "We'll put it to a vote. Those saying yes, please raise your hands."
Nothing came up for a while, and then one by one, hands went up, each less hesitant than the last. It took forever, but in the end all of them had their hands raised, except for the veterans, whose votes didn't count since they weren't part of the meeting. (They just insisted to come along. No one could really refuse them.) Reyna was a consul, so she was only there to supervise.
But Percy was going to put her position to good use, in risk of losing a limb or not.
"Reyna, would you pretty please check on Camp Percy? Have them do a perimeter inspection or whatever, and tell whomever friends of ours who's there to arm up the campers. Also after that, go on ahead to CHB and—"
"Wait, wait, you're not the boss of me," Reyna said, narrowing her dark eyes, irritated. "Who says I'll do what you say?"
Percy smiled innocently, unaffected. "'Problem?'" he mocked.
She scoffed and looked away.
"Okay, so yeah, go on ahead to CHB and tell them that help is on the way."
"What help? Are they being attacked, Perseus?" Maren demanded.
"Yes," the son of Chaos grumbled. He noticed Hazel stifle a giggle. "Olympus is, too, but I'll take care of that. Since most of the teenage Greeks have transferred to the mixed camp or are at school, the camp would most likely need help against a bunch of Ordians."
Soft gasps were simultaneously released. "You mean those monsters that turn into white dust instead of gold? The stronger ones from that douchebag?" a son of Mars asked.
Percy barked out a laugh. "That's a creative way to put it. But yes. Unlike you, the Greeks don't have veterans in their camp, so they won't have any back-up at defense. Especially at this time of the year, where school is the most annoying monster they have to deal with."
"Pimps," one of them muttered, making everyone laugh.
"I was one of those pimps, remember."
"Oh yeah."
"So there, I've done the math, so we need about fifty campers to send there. Not including centurions." Half of the latter groaned. "Also praetors." The two nodded.
…
"You sure about this, Percy?" Hazel asked him for the umpteenth time.
"Yes I am, Hazel. Reyna's there with them," Percy said, as if that soothes everything, which sort of does. That girl could handle anything. "And if you're worried about Camp Jupiter, I'll be here until an hour later."
Looking up, he judged from the position of the sun that it was around nine already. It was then that he felt the weight of war on him. He was damn exhausted, and he had not yet slept for the whole day yesterday.
Deciding to end this quickly, he waved goodbye to the campers in the small gateway-room thing, whatever it was. Before he'd shoved campers into it, the room only consisted of a few couches, a coffee table, and a chandelier. Needless to say, he'd thrown everything insignificant out since the campers weren't going to be there to have a cup of coffee. Chaos had told him that it was a sort of shortcut to transfer between camps, kind of like a gateway, and it sure proved to be useful. He flashed a thumbs-up sign and closed the door, putting his hand on it. He closed his eyes and concentrated, before urging a small amount of his energy into the room. He felt light, and that was when he knew it was done.
He opened the door to check. They were gone.
He did that for two more times with the next batch of campers. When he finished, he wanted a nap more than ever, and this time he was going to get it.
When he got to a guest room at Frank and Hazel's house in New Rome (this one thankfully vacant of a small elephant), he crashed on the bed and fell asleep.
In his dream, he saw the same old forest, and so he waited for Artemis to show up.
She didn't.
Or maybe it was taking her longer to. Maybe she was fighting sleep. Or maybe... she just couldn't.
Too alive? Couldn't be, since she just got drained of pretty much everything her life was.
Too dead? Couldn't be either. She was too stubborn. (It also wasn't in his message.)
Insomnia? He'd be offended.
"Artemis," he threw it all to Hades and called out loud, as if she would ever hear him.
And then, it seemed like the Fates were humoring him, because the mortal goddess appeared—like, just appeared—with an audible pop. Even she looked surprised to be there.
"A-Artemis?" Percy stepped back, blinking. "Is that you? What... happened?"
"I don't know, I.." She looked down with half-lidded eyes, putting her fingers up to her temple. "I think I was knocked unconscious."
Despite the circumstances, Percy couldn't help a bubble of laughter escape through.
She fixed him with a steely glare, which was still as scary (fortunately or unfortunately) even after her immortality got sucked out of her. "I know what you're thinking, so shut up."
His smirk turned into a concerned smile. "Are you okay?"
She looked a little flustered by the sudden change of tone. "Uh, yeah." She cleared her throat, suddenly sounding awkward. "So, um, why did you want to see me right away?"
Percy stared at his shoes, the tables turned. How was he supposed to say it? To even propose the idea? He wasn't exactly the most tactful person in the world.
Still pondering, he said, "Could you tell me the situation at your end?"
Seemingly grateful to have an excuse to be noisy, Artemis plunged into a story of what happened before, after, and at the throne room, which he already knew to some extent. He looked her in the eye to give off the vibe that he was listening, when in truth, he was flipping over his measly brain for a way to go.
She was telling him what happened at the elevator with Enkeli—something about the perfect trap or whatever—when he finally had the guts to just wing it.
"Um, Artemis," Percy interrupted in the middle of her soliloquy. She was annoyed, but she stopped. "I have a solution for your... superpowerlessness."
She raised an eyebrow, almost amusedly. "Yes?"
Percy held her hands, massaging them and thinking, this would be my last chance to back out. But he won't. He wouldn't. His grip on her hands tightened warmly. "For your sporadic unhappiness... and for your dead singularity."
Artemis was blinking for the next few moments, processing his words. Then her lips broke into a real smile, her cheeks splashed with pink. "Your intelligence shows. I can't help but feel attracted, Mr. Jackson."
"Is that a yes?" Percy asked hopefully, but his face threatened to crack itself with his wide delighted grin.
Her smile broadened. "Absolutely."
Not letting go of her hands, Percy began a quiet chant that he'd learned from the library at Chaos' palace. With any luck, it would work. He fleetingly worried that it might not, considering how old it was, but soon remembered another one of his lessons that taught him a new pair of synonyms: old = ancient. Older spells have more powerful effects as long as you have enough energy to rekindle them up if they're dead with disuse.
As he chanted, he heard her hum the song that he'd let her listen to. He couldn't help but smile. How fitting.
So if all goes well, at waking up, Artemis would have her immortality back... and the powers as well, of course.
"Arm up and stay alert! Help each other so this'll be quicker!"
Covered in gleaming Greek armor, the immortal camper Jason Grace stood watching the campers run around like headless chickens, some half-dressed in leather training armor, most complaining about the extra weight. He recognized some Roman demigods dressed in Greek armor, not even bothering to think about their Roman pride for a moment. This was war, and as long as you were fighting for a cause, that would be your armor, whoever you pride yourself to be.
Most people in the camp were teenagers with experience, since Camp Perseus was supposed to be this 'camp for the best and only the best'. Jason was going to test that out.
Beside him stood an older Reyna, who was dressed in gold Roman armor with badges pinned—pretty much the same thing she wore when she was praetor, but without the purple cape and toga that she always wore.
"Impressive," she praised, her dark eyes observant. "You trained them well."
"Yeah, I, uh, had help." He gestured to the few people who were helping the others.
A camper came up to them. "Sir, um, and Consul, there were no monsters around. We even had a thorough search through the cities, nothing."
Jason sighed in relief. "That's great news, then. But don't put your guard down."
"Yes sir, but, um, well.."
"Yes?"
"Are you, by any chance, doing a search of your own, sir?"
They frowned at the camper. "What do you mean?"
He looked uncomfortable. "Uh, there's a... um." He pointed westward. Jason couldn't see anything for a while, until he saw it.
"Couldn't you stop it, Jason?" Reyna asked uncertainly.
Jason shook his head, mildly panicked. "It's too strong. But hopefully it won't come in.." He trailed off as the strong wind plucked up a part of the west woods. Dryads came out screaming, frightened. He turned and shouted over the noise. "Everyone! Out the east exit!"
Then Jason ran, advancing slowly against the stampede of campers running to the other end of the camp. He reached out with his powers and tried to stop the wind, but it wasn't too simple. It was probably sent by their enemy to destroy the camp. Changing tactics, he worked on strengthening the weather force field and prayed to his father.
Dad... please tell your brother to stop this, okay? Besides, I don't think he'd be happy if his son's camp was destroyed by something in his domain.
Nothing happened. The wind uprooted more trees.
And then he heard a voice in his mind, Too busy. Get out of there.
Albeit a little over in his head with disbelief, Jason had no choice but to fly away when his second—third home was ravaged by a hurricane. It was going halfway when a movement below caught his eye.
A twelve-year-old boy was desperately running in place near the cabins, the wind threatening to suck him in. Jason cursed and dived down.
Jason could hear Piper shouting his name over the loud winds, and he concentrated on the sound of her voice as he fought to keep his balance. In the end, he managed to swoop down and catch the boy and aim his crash to the border. The son of Jupiter fell on his back, hugging the boy to him.
Piper and some campers crowded around him. Jason brushed off Piper's scolding and turned to the boy. "What were you thinking, going back?"
The boy was younger than most, but Jason had seen him train. He was built like a warrior, but right now, he trembled at Jason's words. "I-I'm sorry, but.." He showed Jason a small photo, which had faded by time. It showed a woman about Reyna's age holding an infant boy. "It's the only thing I have."
Jason swallowed and stood up. He was about to say something when he saw something flying where he had just been seconds ago.
A huge bird was circling the storm, not even jostled slightly by the winds, whereas Jason almost got caught in it. It was encased in a ball of electricity... or maybe it was cool air? The bird continued circling it, until it stopped, its head turned to look straight at the son of Jupiter. It tilted its head at him—and that was when he realized that it wasn't a bird.
The visible electricity, or maybe it was aura, around him blinked out of existence as soon as Jason came to that realization, and then he started flying skyward. He had wings. Since when was it possible for a human to have wings?
Then again, maybe he wasn't human anymore.
Jason didn't know how he could still see it as the human-bird hybrid flew above the low clouds, and then dove into the eye of the hurricane. He watched the dark heavy-looking clouds around it light up as lightning snaked into them like a branch within a clump of leaves. Then, like a fog, the sharp details of the hurricane dissolved and the air was calm once more.
Jason was sure he wasn't the only one who had their jaw slack.
The bird-human hybrid flew over them, his arms extended in a wave. The sky opened up in front of him and he entered it. After he disappeared, so did the tear in the sky.
The hurricane did so much as a disaster to the west side of the camp, destroying nearly half of the number of cabins. The pattern could be seen in a straight line, so Jason assumed that Order had intended for it to pass in the middle of the camp, like literally in the middle, and then continue on its way. Thankfully, no one had received any injuries, except maybe Jason himself after he crash-landed. But nothing too life threatening.
"What... who was that?" It took a while before Jason registered his wife's words.
"I think.. I think that was Percy."
"Your place is interesting, boss. Have plenty of entertainment."
That was what Andy said as she sat cross-legged on the couch at her boss's house, which was more than what she could afford since they weren't in the rich class. She was playing this video game that showed on the wide flat TV screen.
"Uh, thanks. My mom gave it to me," her boss said, sitting down next to her on the couch.
Andy hit a button that made her character sucker punch two people at once, sending them flying. Oh yes, his mom. His mom was supposed to be rich and beautiful, like a supermodel, or so he said. To be fair, she also told him that her mom was beautiful (which was what all daughters should say) and famous (which was true), but she didn't think that he believed her. Which could be said the same for him.
If one would wonder why she, someone who works under him, was invited by the latter person into his house, maybe she wouldn't have an answer to that. After her half-brother's warning about her boss, she'd obeyed and began to distance herself quite nicely, which for some reason drew his interest to her. And, long story short, one thing led to another and here they were, lounging in front of a video game like they'd been best friends for a long time.
But that was the problem. They still didn't know each other well, in personal terms.
"How did you become so rich? I'm just curious," Andy said, sending him a glance. At that moment of disruption, the car she was driving accidentally run over a poor bunch of pedestrians. For a game with such amazingly realistic graphics, it sure wasn't realistic enough when the pedestrians stood up as if they hadn't been just mowed over by a car.
"My mom was born from a rich dad. He was in Hollywood, a movie star." Drake reached over and plucked a jellybean from the bowl sitting on the table.
Like all stories he'd told, Andy rolled her eyes at it. "Yeah, and my stepdad's a god."
Her boss—oh, her cute, endearing boss—sighed in exasperation. "If you're not believing it, why bother asking?"
"Because.." Andy paused, taking cruel satisfaction in torching pedestrians with a flamethrower. Who knew violent games could be so fun?
"Andromeda!"
They both turned to the voice, though compared to Drake's amused face, Andy was red from embarrassment. "Ugh," she groaned, forgetting for a moment where she exactly was.
"Where in the world are you?! You're not at home and you don't even give your mother and father a key to invite themselves in!"
Andy winced. "I thought you were in Indiana," she argued weakly.
"Something came up and we have to temporarily move south. Where are—oh hello, who are you?"
Then just like that. As long as there was a stranger, she had to be nice as possible. It was effortless in itself, since Andy could easily vouch that Sally Jackson-Blofis was the nicest person in the world, despite her fussy mom qualities.
Hold on a minute... wasn't this an Iris-message?
Andy turned to look at her boss, who didn't seem surprised. He inclined his head. "My name is Drake Grace, ma'am. A pleasure to meet you."
"Call me Sally, dear. Now, if you would be so kind as to let my daughter go—"
"Wait, what? Mom, this is a freaking Iris-message and we're in front of it."
"You didn't tell me you were related to the Sally Blofis," Drake mentioned offhandedly. "Author of my most favorite book, and mother to the greatest Greek hero ever."
"Thank you, dear. I am flattered that your parents bothered to tell you about me."
"You're welcome."
"Wait Mom, what happened?" Andy put down the controller. "I'm lost."
"Poseidon informed us that there would be a huge freak storm in the north parts of the continent. Your father and I couldn't afford to get caught up in that, now could we?"
"And what exactly caused this freak storm?" Andy liked to think that maybe, her brother had come back.
"I don't know. That's why it's called a freak storm."
Drake hid a snort. "My dad has been telling me that the enemy would attack any time soon. This would probably be it." He picked up the controller and resumed the game. "Andy, I suggest you attend to your parents. The elder don't like to be kept waiting. We can talk later, after your heroic brother finishes preventing this world from this."
He directed a rocket launcher to a car at a stoplight, making, however short, a series of explosions follow after the initial one.
"Artemis! Hey!" someone hissed into her ear.
She shot up from her position on the ground. She felt momentarily dizzy at doing so, but soon the feeling dissipated. Her hand felt rather warm and constricted.
"Whoa there. Wouldn't want you to drop dead, now."
Artemis looked around. She was in the lobby of the Empire State Building, sitting down on the floor behind the desk, with Angel kneeling next to her. The room was empty save for an amount of piles of silver dust.
"Where... what.." She gave the lobby another once over. "Where's the boy?"
"You mean Nico? He stayed, remember? Something about being immortal; psh."
"Oh." She touched her stomach, the pain gone as if it was never there. She lifted her shirt and started to unwrap the bloodied bandage.
"...I would advise against that. Anyway, this Cyclops brained you and you're lucky to be alive, I guess. My godly powers were able to heal your just slightly cracked skull, but I'm not really that confident about it so I still secured it with a—holy Nyx, it's gone."
True, as when Artemis took off the bandage on her stomach, there was only smooth, moon washed skin. Not feeling even a tiny headache, she went to untie the one around her head.
"I have a strong suspicion that a miracle named Percy did that." Artemis gave her a look. "Yeah, okay. So I looked outside while you were sleeping and I think we're in trouble." After she disposed the cloth, Angel helped her stand up, sending her a look which practically said, no duh. "Anyway, you might want to explain some things to me."
"What things?" Artemis asked, flexing her hand and thinking of getting a real weapon.
"Like where the ring came from, for example."
Her right hand instantly went for the left. The constraint that she felt earlier was coming from her ring finger, where a silver band rested contentedly, looking as if it belonged there.
The problem was, no one was supposed to see it, unless of course, well, they were someone powerful enough to see through the mist magic of sorts that Percy had put. But it had been resting there the whole time and only now did Angel see it. Maybe because something happened..?
"Okay, let me guess," Angel cut in before Artemis could reply. "A miracle named Percy gave it to you."
"Um, yes."
"Whatever. Now let's get out of here before more monsters show up. I'm flying us to avoid them; Percy would kill me if you died."
They emerged from the building. The streets were unusually deserted, and so the windy weather sounded louder without any other noise drowning it out. If this were another state, it would've been like every other day. However, in New York, that's another story.
But what really attracted Artemis attention—which had to be something since this empty New York street was already strange—was that there was a hurricane coming over from Pennsylvania. And there was something flying alongside it.
"Come on." Angel tugged on her arm, pulling her to herself so Artemis would be in front of her. The goddess wound her arms around the other's waist and unfurled her black wings.
"Wait." Artemis pawed at her arms distractedly, her eyes fixed on the figure flying near the hurricane. "Is that..? I think that's—"
"A warning," Angel chimed in, squinting briefly up at it. "If that thing's coming this way, it might be best to get out of here before it sends us rocketing."
Angel lifted the twelve-year-old goddess up, the latter's feet off the ground. Angel went into a running start, flapping her wings.
"Wait, Angel—"
"Yah!" They levitated from the ground, and with the speed of a torpedo, they flew out towards Long Island.
The last vivid image Percy saw was a figure with black wings flying to Camp Half-Blood.
Enkeli, his mind supplied for him. He knew those black wings everywhere.
It was a good thing they left already, since he didn't think he could stop this one without it slicing open at least a part of the tall building. This one had to be... give or take, the fourth one he needed to stop.
The first one threatened to uproot Camp Jupiter from the sea. The second tore through Camp Perseus halfway. The third originated somewhere in Wisconsin to finish the job at destroying Minneapolis, which at some point earlier, had been flipped upside down by the Ordians in order to destroy any evidence of Order's palace that was underneath. The fourth one, this one beside him, was about to eradicate both Mount Olympus and Camp Half-Blood in one go.
Percy didn't know for sure if it was possible; he didn't really get to study about the normalcy of Earth weather because there was no such thing as normal. But if the mortals noticed something out of the ordinary about them, then it had to be Order's doing.
Of course, the fact that the hurricanes were situated to wipe out certain parts of the continent with no heed for collateral damage already built up the conclusion, but at times in life, there were also things such as 'coincidences', however flimsy and infrequent they were.
Like times like these. The Ordians were ready to storm Mount Olympus with their hurricane, and no one would be defending it because the demigods, Olympus's first line of defense, were still fussing over their half-destroyed homes. Coincidence indeed.
Not that Percy could blame them. He'd probably do the same thing in a heartbeat, if he was still the boy from decades ago. He knew what to sacrifice to get another right. And he sure as Hades couldn't sacrifice Olympus to aid Camp Half-Blood with their invasion; without the gods, they'd be Greek toast.
Sighing, he enveloped himself in Ouranos' elements for the fourth time that day, and plunged into the peaceful eye of the hurricane. This one took a while compared to the previous ones he'd dealt with, since he was considerably weakened by all the energy he'd used. But the hurricane disappeared just like the others.
Stopping to wipe the sweat off his forehead, he realized he miscalculated. It had been close—a heartbeat away—from cutting through Hudson River. The nearest things at shore were sucked into it, and now they freefell into the river. More pollution. And to think it was his fault.
Percy withdrew his wings and dived, rigid as a pole, into the river headfirst. He submerged deep down the dark dirty waters. He took a moment to eye all the garbage with distaste before using his water powers to clear the area in front of him. At the corner of his eye, he noticed light freshwater originate from his pocket.
Percy shook his head smiling, and fished out the sand dollar. Thanks Mom, he thought, before calling out, "Hudson!" At the same time, he released the sand dollar.
Seconds later, the dollar broke into small particles before him, and in their place appeared two murky images. One of the Greek camp and one of the Roman, none of their situations particularly good.
The Romans were being attacked by a number of Ordians that they could have handled with the full arsenal, but alas, only the youngest and eldest were there. Percy was thinking of sending in the people from his camp, but then cursed as he remembered that its transport room was sucked in by the hurricane.
Meanwhile, the Ordians that were attacking the Greeks obviously saw the reinforcements coming, so the tide was favoring no side, not yet. But later, two people would arrive and make that tide favor a side. Three, if lucky.
Percy immediately decided, as he kicked off to shore, that he would defend Olympus first, since that was the most vulnerable to attacks, having only nymphs and satyrs, not to mention minor and even major immortals who can't do a thing unless assaulted first because of the blasted Ancient Laws.
Having stayed in the water long enough to regain his used energy, he flew to the Empire State Building. It was strange to see Manhattan without any people. He had a sinking suspicion of what was happening to them.
Percy folded his wings and entered the lobby. The guy at the desk was nowhere in sight, and he didn't know whether to be worried or relieved. He retrieved the keycard at the desk and slipped into the elevator, putting the key in the slot.
The doors didn't close.
Percy frowned and looked over the buttons. Had there been some kind of improvement on them? The key was inserted properly. There wasn't any button to a 600. He pressed the close door button. Nothing happened.
What happened? It couldn't be broken. It was magic. Unless the gods did this, but they'd be too prideful if they won't accept any needed help. He thought they got past that phase already.
Maybe someone, say monsters, broke it? They beat him upstairs? It won't only cut off defenses for Olympus, but it also cuts off reinforcements for the Ordians. So there must be some other way.
But wait. He had a flashback. He remembered Artemis telling him about the perfect trap in the elevator. About how she got Thalia from her prison cell of terror. He remembered what Order had said. The empty white room with the unlocked door.
Could it be that Arc hadn't escaped?
If he was up at the city, then this broken elevator had to be his work. If he was doing what Percy thought he was doing, then this broken mechanism wouldn't be purposely flawless.
And if Arc's father was as smart as the boy thought, then he would know where the kinks were.
Clever kid.
But if Percy fixed the elevator, (if with some serious luck that he could fix it,) that would mean not only he could ride it up, but the monsters as well. So... he would be a cruel guy and ignore his son's hard work for now.
He got out of the elevator (thank goodness) and exited into the streets. He sensed monsters nearby. He was right. He made his way into the side of the building where they couldn't see him, and flew up with his air powers, since his wings were quite sore from all the flying.
Soon enough, he flew past the Mist and saw the floating city. He attempted to go over the railings but there was some sort of invisible barrier stopping him.
Eh. Are the wind gods siding with Olympus or not? He thought, his eyebrows knit in mock contemplation.
Percy then smiled when afterwards, he was able to slip past the barrier, and then the railing. He settled himself down and ran to the streets, which he found, like New York, were deserted. The food stalls were a mess, like they were run over by a rampaging bull. A rampaging bronze bull.
His smile faded and he trudged forward, intending to finish this once and for all.
AN: Thank you for reading, have a nice day! ~SmartzyFan