I don't think Tartarus the Protogenoi had a face when last I saw him. Them. It. Hmm. In the myths I was pretty sure he was a he so I decided to go with that and pray (to one of the gods who actually listened) that wouldn't automatically get me killed.

This Tartarus, however, did have a face… ish. I could only stare at the Primordial grinning down at me, wishing said Primordial would just stop smiling. The menace and malevolence I recalled from the first time I'd seen this being seemed to have tripled or quadrupled… and it had already barely been something I could barely comprehend before.

It hurt to think about. Not physically but somewhere inside my soul.

This is how mortals are driven mad, I thought, recalling a sentence I'd read in Nico's book about how, unlike gods that could take on fully comprehensible forms to mortals, Primordials couldn't. They simply had too much power. Their very nature always leaked out of whatever form they took.

With that smile and those eyes and the armor even… there wasn't a part of the being that didn't radiate malice and darkness, while simultaneously sucking it in somehow. I looked away, breathing heavily again once I could no longer see that face. I hadn't realized I'd stopped.

This… was how I died, I realized. Not by drakon mouth or Giant fight, but by a Primordial being snuffing out my very life force. (I'd had that thought once before, when I'd dropped my sword in front of this very same being.)

But then… why was I still alive?

(I was still alive, right?)

I pinched myself and then nodded when I definitely felt it. I wasn't dreaming. So… why…?

"W-why am I still alive?" I asked, voice far quieter and more strangled than I would like. Could anybody blame me? This was Tartarus.

The other being boomed a loud laugh that sounded more like meteors hitting the ground than anything else. I hated that I flinched but couldn't help it.

"What an amusing reaction. Just like last time. I can see why my lovely Consort had her eye on you. Unlike last time, you have no one else to fight your battles for you."

That… hurt. Because he was right. I tried not to think of that last glimpse I had of Bob holding the button and Damesen fighting this being. I still felt so guilty about having to leave them behind.

"There will be no distraction this time, and I am far more used to my… hmm, body. Such an interesting construct." He seemed more amused by that than anything. And he seemed in a far better mood than the last time I saw him too. It didn't help, but I did notice. I clenched my fists, trying to stop them from trembling. It didn't work.

Then, something the Primordial had said caught up with me. I looked up, then immediately looked away again. That still hurt.

"G-grandson?" I really hated that stutter.

The being looked up thoughtfully and I felt like I could actually breathe again (a little), despite having been doing so already. It didn't feel like I had been

"Grandson… Great Grandson? Grand-nephew… your mortal terminology is of little use to one such as I."

I could believe it.

"Of course," the being went on, "all who fall into my Pit eventually become mine. And you are so very amusing, even as insignificant as you are, currently. Not many of your kind could defeat a drakon on their own."

That horrendous smile was back and why was I looking at him again?! I looked away. Again.

"I—" I started, then cut off, a horrible realization beginning to rise in my chest. "What… do you mean?" I finally asked, getting the distinct feeling of the void-smile growing teeth to bare at me. Just when I'd thought the monster couldn't have become more threatening…

(That pain in my soul grew, like I was being stretched at the seams and might tear apart at any second.)

I looked away again (why could I not stop looking?!) and tried to swallow the bile crawling up my throat.

"Your precious gods turn their victims into monsters and send them to me. It's quite…" he paused as if searching for the right word, "nice of them." Somehow, somehow, the maliciousness increased. The already dim world began to darken around me. I groaned, only realizing I'd collapsed when the immense pressure lessened seconds (or eternities) later.

"And once you are mine, you will be far less fragile. But not yet."

I forced myself to my hands and knees, breathing heavily and struggling to not lose the battle to keep the contents of my stomach down. I didn't succeed, and heaved, feeling the contents of my stomach come up. I found it odd how the fluid on the black dirt in front of me didn't look like the Phlegethon…

I shook that thought from my head once my stomach had finished rebelling.

"I'm… leaving," I gasped, forcing the words out with as much conviction as I could muster and then some. "I left before."

A chuckle that sounded almost amused… if cannon fire could be amused. "You actually believe that. I will admit that some can, indeed, pass through my realm with some impunity," he frowned, I felt it. That hurt too. I'd really like him to kill me or just go away and be done with this. "You fell into that category last time, but those that remain here… let me tell you this, Grandson: Everything down here that is not a god, is monstrous or a monster. Whether cursed by your gods or simply coming from me to begin with. It has been so long since we have had a demigod who hasn't been truly condemned. Some were so excited when you were here last, and so disappointed when you succeeded in leaving. But now… I wonder how long you will last before you become one of us."

I sat there on my knees as I let those words sink in.

I… could become a monster?

I certainly wouldn't be the first son of Poseidon to be thrown to Tartarus, or to even be a monster. Dad did tend to have many monster-children (I did not like where that thought led and wrenched my attention away from it)… but… it hadn't really occurred to me that cursed demigods thrown down here had become monsters. But… they had… hadn't they?

"Demigods… can become… monsters?" I asked, utterly horrified. It made sense, but I'd just never thought it would—that it could—apply to me.

Had… that been my true condemnation? My true punishment? To never see my friends again, even after I died? To be stuck forever in a cycle of death and reforming, always returning to this place of terror and horror and pain? I felt so sick I could barely move.

Another outright laugh shook the entire area, throwing my already precarious balance off. It reminded me of volcanoes exploding… I knew that from experience.

"I see you understand now, Grandson."

"You're not my grandfather," I whispered.

"But you will be mine. Grandson."

Before I could say anything else, Tartarus vanished, dissipating into the air (or ground? Or… everything) with one final chuckle, leaving me, a fractured demigod, on the banks of the river of fire behind him.

xXx

It took me a long time to be able to stand again. Once I did, I went over to my trophies from the dakon, gathering them up mechanically. Once I had the hide and all the cord-things and long tubes in my arm, I walked carefully—automatically—back to my cave.

I set the trophies against a boulder on the opposite side of my bed, ignored the acid still on the floor and went straight to my backpack. I took out two things: the packet of Ambrosia and Apollo's scroll. Sitting on top of my sleeping bag, I opened the Ambrosia bag and took out a square of the heavenly food before shoving it in my mouth.

The taste of my mother's cookies and some of my favorite meals and blue soda washed over me and I collapsed onto the sleeping bag, fat tears rolling down my cheeks.

"Not that…" I whispered. "Anything but that…" The idea of never seeing my loved ones again, even after death, destroyed me. I sat there for some time, expecting the rage to come back at some point as it usually did. I wasn't a 'sit back and let it happen' kind of person, after all. But… it never did. I wasn't sure if I'd burnt myself out on rage when I'd killed the drakon or if Tartarus' news had broken that part of me, but I just couldn't muster the energy to do anything.

Well, almost anything.

I stuffed the rest of the ambrosia square in my mouth and then opened the scroll. It was blank, but I expected that.

"Show me 'Annabeth and Percy's Notebook'." For several seconds nothing happened, and I wondered if I'd done something wrong or if she hadn't gotten said notebook yet. Then words began to appear, drawn in my girlfriend's neat handwriting.

You'd better be reading this soon, Seaweed Brain. And you better not have gotten yourself killed. I don't know what interrupted our dream but I hope you're okay. I wish there was a way for you to talk to me and let me know this is working. I asked Clovis to help me try and contact you, which is why I could, I think, but he told me that won't happen often. He also said he couldn't explain more, but said he'd do what he could.

Well, I haven't looked up how to get any sort of cordage yet, but after asking around a bit, Chiron said that tendons and intestines have the strongest cord-like tissue in the body. You can also cut skins into strips, so saving those are great. I don't know if they would be usable or if you'd have to stretch them like real leather, but I'll get you information on that as well, just in case.

I'm also going to look up rocks that you can use to write. I know you can reduce wood to charcoal, but I don't know if it'll be sturdy enough to write. There should be some stones you can heat up. The Phlegethon should be able to help you with that once I get that information. I just don't know if there are any down there… but we can experiment, right?

I did find information on the Hawthorn Tree. The berries are safe to eat. THE SEEDS ARE NOT. If you eat the berries raw, spit the seeds back out. Even eating a couple of seeds can make a mortal sick. As a demigod, you'd probably be fine with a few more, but please don't test it, Seaweed Brain.

Note: This is for Hawthorn Trees up here. You may want to test the berries you find there first. We don't know if they'll be good or not. Please don't forget this when you go to find Damesen's camp.

One thing you've probably forgotten about is salt. It's very useful. Since you can summon seawater, you should be able to get some down there. I'll also look up how to extract salt and minerals from the water. That should kill two birds with one stone, getting you water AND salt. You said it can be draining (not as draining as just summoning water, right?) so maybe set up a pool where you summon some water every time you wake up and just before you go to sleep. Having a pool you can swim in too is probably something that would do you good.

Don't forget to check and see if you can drink salt water.

Also, don't forget I love you, Seaweed Brain. I will talk to your mom. She'll probably be just as angry as I am.

We'll get you out, Percy. I promise.

Please be safe.

Love,

Annabeth

(Your Wise Girl)

Nothing else had been written, but… I was more than okay with that. The weight that had settled on my heart lifted and I was able to stand up and get back to work. I had to get those alarms back in place, find a good spot for a pool, clean that acid and eat the meat I'd gathered yesterday. After all, I had to stay alive.

Because Annabeth was coming for me.

xXx

She wrote daily (as near as I could guess) after that. Sometimes she'd just send me little messages of hugs and kisses, notes on things she'd learned and information on what was happening at camp. Apparently Nico was furious when he found out about me and had almost stormed down here to get me himself. Then Hades just pointed out that the Council would kick me back into Tartarus, and so he (thankfully) hadn't come after all, but it had been close.

It felt like water after days in a desert just hearing from them, and I looked forward to seeing every single update. I loved that little slice of home. Go figure.

My 'days' became a cycle of working, fighting, checking for updates, drinking the Phlegethon and sleeping, setting my alarms by Tyson's watch. Fortunately, I had found a place not too far away from the cave that would be good for my summoned pool. I took a quarter of the little seashells and found the small depression in the soil and dirt behind my hill. Then I'd used both my summoned water and Demeter's shovel to dig deeper and deeper until I hit rock. Then I sprinkled the seashells into the hole. Every day when I got up, I would go and summon water to fill the hole and push it down to pressurize the sides before I started my other work. Then I'd come by before I went to bed and do it again. At first the water kept going down but after a little while, it stopped leaking. At that point, I spent an entire day just summoning water, and even though it had nearly wiped me out, I considered it a job well done as I had my pool by the end of it.

I was also reading Nico's book, albeit slowly. It was more useful than I'd thought and gave me new ideas for how to use my powers… among other things. I'd been able to manipulate cold water and ice somewhat before, but the day I learned to freeze water myself was the first day I actually shouted in victory since falling. I'd also begun to build gates out of bones for the cave opening to stop pests from getting in. I'd seen those spider-scorpion things one too many times and really hoped there weren't pit scorpions around.

The cordage from the dragon came in very useful in tying the pieces of the bone together to make the gate. Now I just had to learn metal for nails and I'd be golden. Unfortunately, that would probably be more difficult as I'd have to find the right material and get the right set up and… well, I wasn't exactly good at making things. I was far better at destroying. It was one reason I respected Annabeth so much—Annabeth and her plans to create and build and push herself in those areas. I'd always found it inspiring. That hadn't changed. Actually, I only admired her more after multiple sore fingers and failed projects that fell apart before my eyes. I really wished I'd inherited something about building from either one of my parents.

I did find that the obsidian around the bank of the river was great for making sparks when I rubbed the rocks against the back of one of my knives as Annabeth suggested. Unfortunately, I still didn't have much besides monster skins to burn, but at least I knew a way to start a fire once I did find good fuel. Otherwise, I still used the Phlegethon for my cooking needs. It wasn't ideal, but it worked. Mostly.

Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it), I never ran out of monsters to cook. I still wasn't good at that either. I'd even looked up some of the books Annabeth recommended for preserving and smoking meat. Unsurprisingly, I wasn't able to really use it for now, but I liked knowing I could access the book whenever I could find the materials to make the equipment I needed. I was more comfortable with hunting and eating more beast-like monsters than the human-like ones, but I always saved the clothes from the human-like ones for more cordage and things to wear so I didn't have to waste Aphrodite's gift of shape-shifting clothes. Those were awesome, and I would definitely let her know, but they didn't have any extra protection, so why waste them? Every now and then, though, I'd wear the gift, just for the memories. Strutting around in a Camp Half-Blood or even Camp Jupiter shirt made me feel better. It was nice to have some color down here, even if it was difficult to see in the dim light.

Very morbidly, I'd made a cot out of bones as it was my main building material. (I was beginning to feel like one of those old-fashioned, TV voodoo doctors or something.) I couldn't help but be proud of it as it hadn't fallen apart yet… unlike the first two tries. I'd made the cot part out of some stretched skins, tied it together with the cordage I got from dead monsters and was even beginning to work on a bed-side table.

All in all, I felt I had done pretty well. Tartarus—the being—hadn't returned (although I wasn't naive enough to think the Primordial wasn't watching) and I hadn't had to deal with another monster as bad as the drakon since then either. I'd even begun to find time for recreational things… and yes, one of them had been reading. I read and reread mine and Annabeth's notebook multiple times, and had even started on Lord of the Rings. In Greek. It was strange to find books interesting for no other reason than the story they told. It was slow going, but I'd already made it through the Hobbit and was half-way through the Fellowship of the Rings by the time Annabeth said a year had passed.

I wished I could speak with her in my dreams more but as Clovis had said, it just didn't happen often. I didn't know why I could share dreams with her when I could, but it had only happened twice since I'd been banished to Tartarus. A year ago.

It hadn't seemed like that long… and yet, it had seemed much longer too.

She was telling me about how she'd found a book on pottery I might find interesting if we could figure out how to use the Phlegethon to bake it. The idea of having a water-proof pot of some kind was very nice, mainly for storage ideas. I had long since gotten tired of salted meat day in and day out, but it was better than starving. Thankfully, I hadn't used much of my ambrosia and still had over half of my stock left. Same with Nectar.

All in all, things weren't too bad, considering (if one ignored the constant pain of breathing)… which was why, of course, everything had to be turned on its side.

I didn't initially recognize the first actual 'visitor' that didn't outright attack me after Tartarus. I exited my base-cave after waking up one day, ready to head to the Phlegethon to fix my lungs, and then my water pool. I froze almost immediately as I saw a human-shaped figure walking the length of the river. Leisurely. As if they didn't have a care in the world. And also not attacking me.

Sadly, that was what really made the encounter unique.

Frowning, I squinted and tried to figure out who it could possibly be. The being wasn't tall enough to be a Titan, let alone a Giant, but he didn't look much like a monster either. At least, not from a distance. I still took my pen out and slowly made my way down towards the man. And it was a man. In a strange suit. He was bald and had very sallow skin. That was all I could make out as the man stared out at the river, away from me.

Once I got within a decent rushing distance (if necessary) I called out.

"Hey."

The figure turned around, slowly enough that I concluded the man had noticed me sneaking up on him.

Then I recognized him.

"Crusty?" I asked, blinking. This was Procrustes, the serial murderer and half giant of some kind. Although some myths pegged him as a son of Poseidon too…

"You would remember that name," the man mumbled. Then he smiled, teeth yellow and eyes cold as ever. "So you are here after all, my brother and my murderer."

I sucked in a breath quietly, staring at the other being in confusion. "So you are a son of Poseidon?"

The larger man shrugged. "I used to be a demigod just like you."

Used to be… I frowned, not liking those implications. "So how does that work with the whole half-giant thing?" I knew my history… well, at least when it came to this tale.

Procrustes snorted. "My grandmother was a small giant. My grandfather, a large man. They made it work and had my mother." He leered at me. "So I was born only a quarter mortal, I suppose."

I blinked and tried to shake the thought out of my head.

"TMI, dude. TMI."

Either the taller being knew what that meant, or he didn't care as he moved on.

"So, murderer, how are you faring down here?"

I blinked and then snorted. "Is that the best you can do? Call me names? Do you really think you have room to talk when you tortured people to death?"

"Didn't you do the same to me?"

I rolled my eyes. "I gave you a fast death. You couldn't even do that to your victims." I couldn't help the disgust on my face as I looked the man up and down. "You know, I never got you. Why kill people like that? Do you like torturing people?"

The man (monster?) before me paused and thought about that. "That's part of it," he said with a wide grin. "But also, people should all be the same size! Doesn't it just drive you ballistic when you see everyone all over the place and none of them are the same size?!" He shivered a little before looking almost imploringly back at me.

"So you're a psychopath with OCD," I said, deadpan, but mentally preparing myself for a fight. "Great."

Procrustes frowned. "What's OCD?"

I raised an eyebrow. I didn't know the actual definition off the top of my head, but I had a decent idea. That would have to do.

I shrugged. "People who have to have things a certain way. It's a neurological thing. People with OCD have to have everything perfect… or at least some things, but they tend to go way overboard on those things… I think. You may want to look it up the next time you visit the surface. I'm not a hundred percent sure about the definition but I think there's treatment for it."

The man looked… well, much like I probably did when Annabeth started going off on her architecture shpeels: overwhelmed.

"There's… treatment for… this?"

That… wasn't the reaction I'd been expecting. "Well… yeah. If you're willing to work at it, I guess."

"You're lying."

I rolled my eyes again. "Stop killing people on the surface and do some research. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get to work." Time was wasting and I had to find some monsters to restock my meat stash. Sadly, anything I tried to stash only lasted a couple of days. At least I had more resources than I'd had before, so maybe I could set off to find Damesen's swamp soon. I turned to walk away (although I never put my sword away—I'm not stupid) and began to head back towards my pool.

"Why weren't you turned into a monster when they cast you down here?" Procrustes asked suddenly.

I paused and glanced back at him, wondering if I should answer. When I thought about it, though, I didn't see a need to keep my circumstances a secret, so I shrugged. "Because I didn't actually do anything wrong." Of course, thinking about that caused my anger to boil, but I had plenty of practice keeping my temper here.

"Don't fool yourself," the other man said dryly. "How many monsters have you killed?"

"All the ones that have attacked me—or mine—that I can," I returned with a shrug.

"And what about your Giant and Titan friends? Weren't you the cause of their deaths?"

I froze. Oh, we were playing that way?

"They volunteered," I said as calmly as I could. Following their instructions and getting into those elevators had been one of the hardest decisions I'd ever had to make.

"Is that how you justify it?"

"I don't need to justify myself to you," I growled back. "You murdered innocent people. Not by circumstance, not by proxy, not indirectly, but with premeditated torture. Now unless you really want to fight, go away. Or I'll make you."

I wasn't sure what I expected, but it wasn't the reaction I got. To my surprise, the taller man just laughed. "Oh, I'm looking forward to seeing how you change as a monster." I tried not to let the man see how much that got to me, but I didn't think I was very successful as that crocodile smile widened. "I didn't get much in the way of powers from our father. Oh, I can breathe under water and have some limited hydrokinesis, but other than that, I was born a little stronger than your average human, and that was it.

"Now I'm much stronger than I ever was as a mortal. That's how I changed."

"Is that a challenge?" I asked angrily.

He shook his head. "Without a weapon or anything that would actually kill you? I'm not stupid." More like a coward, I thought viciously. "But back to my point, you want to know what else changed when I became a monster?"

"Not really."

"You know that bloodlust you feel whenever you fight to your limits? That desire to hurt and how much you enjoy it? How much that desire pushes your powers?"

I stiffened, remembering Ahklys and the drakon…

"That," the man said with a chuckle. "That's what changes. It only grows stronger and becomes a part of you. You know what I'm talking about, I can tell. You're already on your way to becoming one of us."

"Go. Away." I spoke slowly, trying to keep my panic under control.

"Before, I just wanted people to be the same. I just had to fulfill that need. After… I learned to enjoy watching them suffer."

I raised my sword at the monster. Brother or not, he was not welcome.

"Last chance," I said—more growled, really.

"Or what? You'll kill me again? You really are going to be an interesting monster."

I took a stance and the man held up his hands. "Okay, okay! I'm going! But I'll be back to check up on you, little brother."

"You're not my family," I spat. The other man just laughed as he walked down the banks of the river like he didn't have a care in the world. I waited until he was almost out of sight before I let my shaking sword arm drop.

Would I… lose that part of myself that liked protecting others? That stopped me from torturing and reveling in the power my anger could bring? My loyalty? That part that made me… me?

I fell to my knees, sword dropping to the black sand in front of me, and looked down at my hands. They shook. I couldn't stop them.

I brought them to my chest and even though I didn't cry, I had to swallow past a lump in my throat, staring ahead at the fire river, although I didn't really see it.

"Annabeth," I whispered, "please hurry."

xXx

Thanks to: Undead Prince, D Samson, TimeLordTim, Found and Quathis for their help on this. :D Thank you guys!

So yeah, hope that answers the whole 'Grandson' issue. I did consider having Percy mention Ouranos and see what Tartarus thought of that, but he really wasn't in the mindset to be able to come up with that soooo...

New schedule update, every Monday. (It worked for me before, so why mess with something that works, you know?)

I am looking for a new beta reader if anyone is interested. Please drop me a note if you are. I actually have this story planned to be around 20 chapters (maybe as many as 24) with some follow-up stories. Want to update once a week until I'm done. :)

Discord: discord. gg/xDDz3gqWfy (no spaces)