Disclaimer: I don't own the right to Percy Jackson and the Olympians, only my OC, sadly enough. I'd be very rich tho.
Chapter 9: The Exodus Part III
The battle raged on, Percy wielding his sword with skill and determination. His strikes cut through enemy armor effortlessly, their bodies bursting into oblivion. The scent of sulfur filled the air as hellhounds dissolved into shadows under his blade. With each swing, he felt a surge of power coursing through his veins, fueling his every move.
Beside him, the Apollo campers unleashed a barrage of arrows, disrupting any attempt by the monsters to regroup. Their combined efforts pushed the enemy back, driving them towards the Brooklyn side of the bridge. Percy's laughter mingled with the chaos, a mix of exhilaration and madness.
Michael Yew's voice boomed with excitement. "That's what I'm talking about!" he yelled, the thrill of battle electrifying his words.
As they pressed forward, Annabeth's voice cut through the adrenaline-fueled haze. "Percy! You've already routed them. Pull back!" she shouted, her concern lacing her tone.
A part of Percy registered her words, the rational part that knew he should heed her advice. But the rush of victory and the desire to annihilate every last monster surged within him. The toll stations appeared on the horizon, a reminder of their goal.
Then, the sight of a gathering crowd at the base of the bridge caught his attention. The retreating monsters were converging with their reinforcements, a small group of demigods mounted on skeletal horses. Leading them, holding a banner emblazoned with a black scythe design, was none other than Kronos himself, his eyes burning like molten gold.
Annabeth and the Apollo campers faltered, their momentum halted by the arrival of the Titan lord. Kronos' gaze locked onto Percy, a sinister smile curling his lips. Despite the distance, Percy could feel the weight of that malevolent gaze.
"Now," Percy declared, determination hardening his features, "we pull back."
The enemy surged forward, swords raised, charging with relentless determination. Percy's friends began to retreat, but Annabeth remained at his side, her resolve unyielding. They fought together, moving backward across the bridge, Annabeth's mirrored shield deflecting blows while Percy aimed to disable rather than kill.
Kronos's cavalry swirled around them, their insults echoing in the air as they closed in. The Titan lord advanced leisurely, an embodiment of patience, his control over time evident. The demigods under his sway fought with a fervor born from twisted loyalty.
Percy tried to wound rather than slay, his strikes meant to disable rather than end lives. The realization that he battled against his own kind slowed his progress, but it did not deter him. He severed the legs of skeletal mounts, causing the creatures to disintegrate, forcing the remaining demigods to fight him on foot.
As the clash continued, Percy's mind focused on the safety of his friends. Michael and the archers attempted to retreat, but Annabeth refused to abandon Percy's side, her knife and mirrored shield serving as her weapons of choice. Step by step, they steadily moved backward, their movements fluid yet deliberate.
The enemy closed in, their attacks relentless, their loyalty to Kronos unwavering. The battle danced on, the clash of swords and the grunts of combat filling the air as Percy fought against those who were once his friends.
Annabeth and Percy stood side by side, their eyes scanning the surroundings for any sign of danger. The tension in the air was palpable as they braced themselves for the imminent clash. Suddenly, a shadow passed over Percy, causing him to glance upwards. To his amazement, Blackjack and Porkpie, the trusty pegasi, swooped down with daring precision, kicking their enemies in the helmets before soaring away like kamikaze pigeons.
As they approached the middle of the bridge, a chilling sensation crawled down Percy's spine, setting him on edge. Without warning, a cry of pain erupted from behind him. He spun around just in time to see Annabeth fall, clutching her injured arm. Standing over her was a demigod, a bloody knife in hand.
"Annabeth!" Percy's heart pounded with fear and concern as he rushed to her side. In an instant, he pieced together what had happened. The attacker had aimed for him, aiming to strike at his weak point, but Annabeth had intercepted the knife, shielding him from harm. The realization struck him deeply. Why would she put herself in danger without knowing his vulnerability?
Locking eyes with the enemy demigod, Ethan Nakamura, son of Nemesis, Percy's anger ignited. This was the same demigod who had survived the explosion on the Princess Andromeda. With a swift and forceful strike, Percy struck him in the face with the hilt of his sword, denting his helmet.
"Stay back!" Percy's voice reverberated with determination as he swung his sword in a wide arc, driving the rest of the demigods away from Annabeth. "No one touches her!"
Kronos, observing the scene from his skeletal horse, cast his intimidating gaze upon Percy. The Lord of Time spoke with a mixture of amusement and threat. "Bravely fought, Percy Jackson. But it's time to surrender... or the girl dies."
Annabeth groaned in pain, her blood-stained shirt serving as a stark reminder of her sacrifice. Percy knew he had to get her to safety. "Blackjack!" he called out urgently.
Responding with lightning speed, Blackjack descended from the sky, clamping his teeth onto the straps of Annabeth's armor. They ascended into the air, soaring over the river before the enemy could react.
Kronos growled in frustration. "Someday soon, I am going to make pegasus soup. But for now..." He dismounted from his horse, his scythe gleaming ominously in the early light. "I'll settle for another dead demigod."
Undeterred by the threat, Percy squared his shoulders, meeting Kronos head-on. With a mighty clash, their weapons collided, sending shockwaves rippling across the bridge. Despite the immense power behind Kronos's strike, Percy held his ground, refusing to yield. A flicker of doubt crossed Kronos's face, his smile faltering for a moment.
Summoning his courage, Percy unleashed a swift kick, sweeping Kronos's legs out from under him. The scythe clattered to the pavement as Percy lunged forward, aiming to deliver a decisive blow. Yet, Kronos rolled away with remarkable agility, regaining his footing in an instant. The scythe flew back into his hands, ready for the next exchange.
The battle raged on, a clash of wills and strength. Percy's body throbbed with pain as he staggered to his feet, his eyes locked on Kronos, the Titan lord who stood before him. A mix of annoyance and arrogance danced in Kronos' gaze as he assessed Percy, relishing in his own power. The weight of his words hung in the air as he taunted Percy.
"So..." Kronos sneered, his voice laced with disdain. "You had the courage to visit the Styx. I had to pressure Luke in many ways to convince him. If only you had supplied my host body instead... But no matter. I am still more powerful. I am a TITAN."
With a swift strike of his scythe against the bridge, a wave of sheer force crashed into Percy, sending him hurtling backward. Chaos erupted as cars careened and demigods, even Luke's own men, were flung off the bridge. Percy struggled to regain his footing, the remnants of the battle scattered around him.
Meanwhile, the remaining Apollo campers fought valiantly, almost reaching the end of the bridge. But Michael Yew, perched on one of the suspension cables nearby, hesitated. His final arrow was at the ready, his determination evident.
"Michael, go!" Percy shouted, urgency coloring his voice.
"Percy, the bridge!" Michael called back. "It's already weak!"
Percy's gaze shifted downward, and his heart sank as he saw the fissures in the pavement and the damage inflicted upon the bridge. The realization hit him like a thunderbolt—time was running out. Desperation fueled his next move.
"Break it!" Michael urged, his voice filled with a mix of hope and despair. "Use your powers!"
Though it seemed like an impossible feat, Percy clung to that sliver of hope. He plunged Riptide into the bridge, the magic blade sinking deep into the asphalt. A surge of saltwater erupted from the crack, gushing like a geyser. With all his might, Percy yanked his sword free, causing the fissure to widen. The bridge quaked and crumbled, massive chunks falling into the East River.
Kronos's demigods cried out in alarm, stumbling backward as a fifty-foot chasm severed their path. For a moment, silence fell upon the scene. Percy, however, couldn't shake the unease that clung to him like a shadow. The suspension cables still remained, offering a potential way across for Kronos's forces. And there was always the possibility that the Titan lord had some magical means to bridge the gap.
Kronos surveyed the situation, his eyes flitting toward the rising sun before a wicked smile curved his lips. With a mock salute, he raised his scythe. "Until this evening, Jackson," he taunted, his voice dripping with malice. With that, he mounted his horse and rode off, his warriors following in his wake.
Percy's attention turned to Michael Yew, intending to express his gratitude, but shock froze the words on his lips. The bow lay abandoned on the street, its owner nowhere to be found.
"No!" Percy's cry echoed through the morning stillness, a testament to his anguish and frustration. He frantically scanned the wreckage, his gaze fixating on the river below. Yet, there was no sign of Michael.
His heart heavy with sorrow, Percy's anger bubbled within him. Before he could summon Blackjack to aid in the search, his mother's phone rang, shattering the momentary silence. The display revealed an unexpected caller—Finklestein & Associates, likely a demigod using a borrowed phone.
With a mix of hope and trepidation, Percy answered, desperately longing for good news. But as the words reached his ears, his hopes crumbled. Silena Beauregard's voice trembled on the other end, and the weight of her words struck him like a blow.
"Percy... Plaza Hotel," Silena choked out, her voice thick with tears. "You'd better come quickly and bring a healer from Apollo's cabin. It's... it's Annabeth."
Percy urgently beckoned Will Solace from the Apollo cabin, quickly briefing him on the task at hand. "Keep searching for Michael Yew," he instructed his fellow demigod, his voice laced with determination. With a sense of urgency, they found a sleeping biker's Yamaha FZI and hopped on, ready to race towards their destination.
As they sped through the streets, Percy couldn't help but notice the empty pedestals, statues removed in accordance with Plan twenty-three. Uncertainty gnawed at him. Was this a sign of progress or a dangerous shift in the tides? Only time would tell.
Their journey brought them to the Plaza Hotel, a classic and iconic white stone building with a distinctive blue roof. Percy knew it wasn't the most strategically ideal choice for a headquarters, but its history and the presence of famous demigods who had frequented the place in the past gave him a sense of reassurance. Famous or not, they were all in this together.
Percy deftly maneuvered the Yamaha over the curb, halting near the fountain outside the hotel. Will and he quickly dismounted, their eyes drawn to the statue atop the fountain, her voice carrying down to them. An exasperated tone tinged her words, demanding their attention.
"Oh, fine. I suppose you want me to watch your bike too!" the bronze figure called out. She stood tall and majestic in the center of a granite bowl, adorned with only a bronze sheet around her legs and cradling a basket of metal fruit. It was Pompona, the Roman Goddess of Plenty, a deity often overlooked and underappreciated.
"Are you supposed to be Demeter?" Percy asked, his curiosity piqued.
A bronze apple sailed through the air, barely missing Percy's head. Pompona's frustration was evident as she retorted, "Everyone thinks I'm Demeter. I'm Pompona, the Roman Goddess of Plenty, but why should you care? Nobody cares about the minor gods. If you cared about the minor gods, you wouldn't be losing this war! Three cheers for Morpheus and Hecate, I say!"
Percy's patience wore thin as he urged her to focus. "Watch the bike goddamnit," he instructed sternly, determined to keep their mission on track.
Pompona let out a string of Latin curses, hurling more fruit their way as Percy and Will dashed towards the hotel, their hearts pounding with adrenaline. The echoes of her frustration faded as they disappeared through the hotel's grand entrance.
Percy stepped into the grand lobby of the Plaza, taking in the opulence surrounding him. Crystal chandeliers hung above, casting a glittering glow over the slumbering wealthy patrons strewn across the furniture. He paid little attention to the scene, his mind focused on finding Annabeth. With directions from a couple of helpful Hunters, he made his way to the elevators and ascended to the penthouse suites.
The top floors of the Plaza had become a makeshift refuge for demigods. Campers and Hunters sprawled across sofas, seeking solace and respite. Some tended to their injuries, using silk draperies as makeshift bandages, while others raided the minibars for snacks and drinks. A couple of timber wolves even lapped water from the toilets, adding a touch of chaos to the scene. Percy's weariness faded as he spotted familiar faces, reassured by the survival of so many friends. However, the toll of battle was evident on each of them, their battered forms and exhaustion speaking volumes.
"Percy!" Jake Mason clapped him on the shoulder, urgency etched on his face. "We're getting reports—"
"Not now," Percy interrupted, cutting him off. "Where's Annabeth?"
"The terrace. She's alive, man, but—" Jake began.
Percy pushed past him, a mixture of concern and relief driving him forward. He hurried towards the terrace, his footsteps quick and determined. Despite the dire circumstances, he couldn't help but appreciate the breathtaking view that stretched out before him. Central Park lay below, bathed in the clear, morning light—a stark contrast to the impending battle that loomed.
Annabeth lay on a lounge chair, her complexion pale and glistening with sweat. Blankets covered her, yet she shivered uncontrollably. Silena Beauregard, her loyal friend, tended to her, gently wiping her forehead with a cool cloth. Percy's heart constricted at the sight, his worry mounting. Will Solace, their resident healer, joined them, his presence a ray of hope in the midst of their struggles.
Will unwrapped Annabeth's bandages, and the sight of the wound made Percy's head spin. The gash, though no longer bleeding, looked deep and dangerous. The surrounding skin had taken on a sickly shade of green, a testament to the poison coursing through her veins.
"Annabeth..." Percy's voice faltered, choked with emotion. She had taken that knife for him, and guilt gnawed at his insides. How could he have allowed such a thing to happen?
"It's poison on the dagger," Annabeth mumbled weakly. "Pretty stupid of me, huh?"
Will breathed a sigh of relief. "It's not as bad as it looks, Annabeth. The venom hasn't spread beyond the shoulder yet. Just lie still. Someone pass me some nectar."
Percy grabbed a nearby canteen, his hands trembling. Will meticulously cleaned the wound with the godly drink, while Percy held Annabeth's hand, his touch meant to offer comfort amidst the pain.
"Ow," Annabeth winced. "Ow, ow!" Her grip tightened around Percy's fingers, turning them purple, yet she remained still, obedient to Will's instructions. Silena offered words of encouragement, her presence a steady support. Will applied silver paste and fresh bandages before finally standing up, visibly weakened by the exertion.
"That should do it," he said, his voice laced with fatigue. "But we'll need supplies from the mortal world."
Will hastily scribbled some notes on hotel stationery, his message a request for assistance. He handed the note to one of the Athena campers, his tone urgent. "There's a Duane Reade on Fifth Avenue. Normally, I'd never condone stealing—"
"I would," Travis Stoll chimed in with a mischievous grin.
Will shot him a stern glare. "Leave cash or drachmas to pay, whatever you've got. This is an emergency. I have a feeling we're going to need a lot more medical supplies."
The gravity of the situation hung heavily in the air as Percy observed the unanimous agreement among the demigods. Every single one of them had been wounded, except for him—a fact that weighed on his mind. Travis's comment lightened the tension momentarily, evoking a brief chuckle from the group.
"Come on, guys," Travis urged. "Let's give Annabeth some space. We've got a drugstore to raid... I mean, visit."
The demigods dispersed, leaving Percy, Annabeth, and Silena in a moment of solitude. Silena, still by Annabeth's side, pressed a cool cloth against her forehead, her expression filled with guilt.
"This is all my fault," Silena whispered, her voice filled with remorse.
"No," Annabeth weakly protested. "Silena, how is it your fault?"
Silena's voice barely above a murmur, she admitted, "I've never been any good at camp, not like you or Percy. If I were a better fighter..."
Her voice trailed off, her vulnerability mirroring delicate glass, on the verge of shattering. Percy's anger reignited at the memory of Beckendorf's death, knowing that Silena's declining state of mind had worsened since that tragic event. He made a silent vow to himself that he would exact justice on the spy responsible, a promise whispered to his soul.
"You're a great camper, Silena," Percy reassured her, determination in his voice. "You're the best pegasus rider we have, and you have a way of getting along with people. Believe me, anyone who can befriend Clarisse has undeniable talent."
Silena's eyes widened, a glimmer of realization taking hold. "That's it! We need the Ares cabin. I can talk to Clarisse. I know I can convince her to help us."
Percy paused, contemplating the idea. He knew Clarisse's stubbornness all too well, aware that persuading her to join the fight would be no easy task.
"Silena, Clarisse can be...difficult, especially when she's angry," Percy warned.
"Please," Silena pleaded. "I can take a pegasus. I know I can make it back to camp. Let me try."
Percy exchanged a knowing glance with Annabeth, seeking her approval. With a barely perceptible nod, Annabeth granted her consent.
"Alright," Percy agreed, his voice gentle yet resolute. "I can't think of anyone better suited for the task. Just be careful, Silena. We're counting on you."
Silena enveloped Percy in a grateful hug before hurriedly pulling away, glancing at Annabeth apologetically. "Um, sorry. Thank you, Percy! I won't let you down!"
Once Silena had departed, Percy knelt beside Annabeth, concern etched on his features. Her forehead burned with fever, her energy depleted. He gently brushed a strand of hair away from her face, his touch filled with tenderness.
"You're cute when you're worried," she murmured weakly. "Your eyebrows scrunch together."
"You're not allowed to die while I still owe you a favor," Percy declared, his voice a mixture of determination and vulnerability. "Why did you take that knife for me?"
Annabeth's response came in a hushed whisper, her words carrying a weight of unconditional loyalty. "You would've done the same for me."
The truth in her statement resonated deep within Percy's soul. He knew it with an unwavering certainty. The thought of losing her tore at his heart, a cold metal rod piercing through his being.
"How did you know?" Percy leaned in closer, his voice barely audible above the gentle breeze.
Annabeth looked at him, her eyes distant, lost in a haze of memories. Her breath carried a faint scent of grapes, a lingering trace of nectar. "I don't know, Percy. I just had this feeling that you were in danger. Where... where is the spot?"
Glancing around to ensure their privacy, Percy leaned her hand against his back, guiding her fingers to the one spot that held his vulnerability. A surge of electricity coursed through his veins, the connection grounding him to his mortal life.
"You saved me," he whispered gratefully, the weight of his debt apparent in his voice. "Thank you."
Annabeth withdrew her hand, but Percy held onto it, cherishing the contact that reminded him of their unbreakable bond.
"So, you owe me," she weakly stated, a hint of her usual playful tone returning. "What else is new?"
Together, they watched as the sun painted the city with hues of gold and orange, a stark contrast to the looming danger that surrounded them. Percy couldn't help but notice the eerie absence of the usual city noises—no honking cars or bustling crowds. The tranquility that should have filled the morning was overshadowed by the imminent threat they faced.
"You mentioned that Hermes was mad at you," Annabeth began, her voice carrying a hint of exhaustion.
"Hey, you need to rest," Percy interjected, concern etched on his face.
"No, I want to tell you," Annabeth insisted, pushing through her weariness. "It's been bothering me for a long time." She winced as she shifted her shoulder, the pain evident. "Last year, Luke came to see me in San Francisco."
Percy's eyes widened in disbelief. "In person? He went to your house?"
Annabeth faltered, her words faltering as she navigated the memories that threatened to overwhelm her. "This was before we ventured into the Labyrinth, before... before he turned into Kronos. He came under a flag of truce. He seemed scared, Percy. Luke warned me that Kronos would use him to conquer the world. He wanted us to run away, just like the old days. He wanted me to go with him."
Percy's mind reeled, the implications of Luke's plea sending shockwaves through his system. The reality that Luke had visited Annabeth personally, appealing for her support, struck him with a force that left him momentarily speechless.
"But you didn't trust him," Percy finally managed to say, his voice laced with confusion.
"Of course not," Annabeth responded, her voice heavy with regret. "I thought it was a trick. And... many things had changed since the old days. I told him there was no way. He got angry. He said... he said I might as well fight him then and there because it was my last chance."
Annabeth's forehead beaded with sweat once again, her energy waning as she recounted the events. Percy's heart ached, witnessing her pain. He longed to offer comfort, to assure her that she had made the right choice, but the words caught in his throat.
"It's okay," Percy finally managed, his voice gentle. "Try to get some rest."
"You don't understand, Percy," Annabeth persisted, her voice filled with desperation. "Hermes was right. Maybe if I had gone with him, I could have changed his mind. Or... or if I had a knife. Luke was defenseless. I could have—"
"Killed him?" Percy interrupted, his voice laced with concern. "You know that wouldn't have been right."
Annabeth closed her eyes tightly, her emotions consuming her. "Luke said that Kronos would use him like a stepping stone. Those were his exact words. Kronos would use Luke to become even more powerful."
"He did just that," Percy acknowledged, his voice tinged with bitterness. "Kronos possessed Luke's body."
"But what if Luke's body is only a transition?" Annabeth questioned, her voice trembling. "What if Kronos has a plan to become even more powerful? I could have stopped him. This war, Percy... it's my fault."
Percy felt a knot tighten in his chest, his own guilt intertwining with Annabeth's anguish. Her words echoed through his mind, reminders of the choices they had made, the weight of responsibility they carried.
"Annabeth," Percy began softly, his voice filled with compassion. "The war is not your fault. We've all made choices, and we've all faced the consequences. We can't blame ourselves for everything. We can only move forward and do what we can to make things right."
Annabeth's expression held a mixture of gratitude and pain, her eyes locked with Percy's. She searched for solace in his gaze, finding a flicker of hope amidst the darkness that surrounded them.
Before either of them could delve further into the labyrinth of their emotions, Connor Stoll entered the terrace, his presence a harbinger of news, perhaps not all of it good.
"Percy," he addressed, his eyes flitting to Annabeth with caution. "Mrs. O'Leary just returned with Grover. I think you should talk to him."