"Hello, young one."

Percy looked up from his sandcastle, an intricate masterpiece that had taken him nearly an hour to put together. He sat criss-cross applesauce, little feet tired from the constant laps back and forth between his build site and the sea. His mom had brought him to Montauk for his ninth birthday, and Percy had never been happier. She was back at the house, putting together some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches - blueberry jelly, of course.

His goofy smile still adorned his face as he looked up, eyes meeting those of a stranger.

The stranger was a large man, Percy decided. Large due to muscles, though - not big like Smelly Gabe. This man looked kind, with a bushy black beard that almost seemed to contain barnacles, and a Hawaiian shirt that screamed surfer.

And he had sea-green eyes that seemed to radiate a sparkle Percy had never seen before.

"Hi!" Percy grinned, a lopsided smile, due to one of his front teeth having fallen out last Monday. He had woken up with a lollipop under his pillow - it had been a good day.

The man gestured to his castle. "I like the castle you've built."

Percy looked down at his masterpiece, before grinning once again at the man. "Thanks!"

"Would you mind if I joined you for a time? This old man could use some company every once in a while."

Percy started to nod, but hesitated. "I don't think my mom would like that."

The man smiled at that. "I'm a friend of Sally's. I think she'll be happy to know I met you."

"Ok," Percy shrugged.

The man nodded, swinging a beach chair - where did he get that? - from behind his back, sitting next to Percy. He stretched out in the seat, one foot crossing another, letting out a groan of content as he leaned into the fabric.

"It isn't common for one like me to get some rest, young one. Savor that, would you?"

"Ok, mister," Percy offered the wise man.

"What's your name, my child?" His voice was soothing, like waves crashing onto the beach.

"I'm Percy."

The man leaned over, like someone trying to whisper something in a movie theater, eyes shining.

"Nice to meet you, Percy. My name is Poseidon."

"Pos - Poseidon?" Percy stuttered. "That's a weird name."

The man let out a belly laugh. "Yes, yes, I suppose it is! How right you are, young Percy."

Percy grinned, turning to his castle, packing his bucket with some more sand. The fine grains stuck to his fingers, the cool sand nonetheless a comforting feeling under his touch.

As Percy continued to shovel sand into his tower mold, Poseidon snuck a look up towards the sky. But the skies were as clear as ever. Percy tried to follow his sight, but reflexively squinted at the sunlight.

Poseidon turned back to Percy. "So, Percy - do you like the ocean?"

"Yeah! It's amazing, it's my favorite place in the world," Percy said elatedly. "I want to live here."

"Maybe one day, you will," Poseidon said, a knowing smile on his face.

Percy shrugged, grabbing his bucket. "Maybe!"

He went to run to the ocean to fill the mold with water, but the weight gave him pause. Looking down, the mold was already full, the sand concrete ready for placement. He looked up at Poseidon in amazement.

"Did you do that?"

Poseidon gave him a vague smile. "What makes you think that, young Percy? You already had it filled."

Percy looked back down, and shrugged. "Ok!"

He bent back down, carefully placing the mold atop the castle, tapping the back of the mold. But he hit it a bit too forcefully, and the mold slipped from his chubby fingers, crashing into another tower. It collapsed in two.

Percy gasped in shock, falling back on his haunches. "No! My castle!"

His masterpiece. It had been ruined. Tears started welling up in his eyes,

"Hey, hey, Percy. It's alright! You know, a lot of underwater castles aren't fully intact either."

Percy looked up, sadness sidelined for a moment. "Really?"

"Oh, definitely. One of these days, I'll take you to them."

"How?" Percy's eyes were full of wonder.

"You'll see when you're older, son. Promise."

Poseidon let out a grunt before standing up, hands on his knees. He bent his back, loud cracks echoing from his spine, before grabbing his beach chair.

"I'm afraid I must be on my way, young one. But it was a pleasure to talk." He held out his hand for a shake.

"You too, mister!" Percy grabbed his hand with vigor, shaking it up and down faster than what would be considered polite.

But as soon as he shook his hand, Poseidon's persona changed. His happiness was replaced by confusion, and then by anger, before settling on a mask not betraying an emotion. He leant down on his haunches, staring Percy right in his eyes, an uncomfortable level of eye contact.

"Who blessed you?"

Percy took a step back, but Poseidon's grip didn't let him get far. "What do you mean?"

"Someone blessed you, I can… I can feel it. How? Who would do this?" Poseidon was speaking to himself mostly. "Athena wouldn't do this, right? Who…"

"Mister, you're hurting me!" Percy tried to pull away again, with similar failure.

Poseidon seemed to recenter himself, releasing Percy. His face took on a slight bit of panic.

"I'm so sorry, young one. Forgive me, please."

Percy looked down at the sand.

Poseidon seemed to think for a moment, before clasping his hands. They seemed to glow, a soft blue emanating from under his skin, bones and arteries glowing. Percy looked back, enraptured by the sudden light show.

"Come here, child. It's a gift."

Percy took a step forward, wowed by the show Poseidon was putting on. "What is it?"

Poseidon chuckled, although there was a surprising lack of mirth. Like he was more saddened by his show than enjoying his act. "It's a blessing of its own, let's say. Ancient magic, from a friend in the sea. It will hide your blessing, and protect you from anybody who wants to take advantage of it."

"Is this dangerous?" Percy asked.

"No, child. Don't worry - this is all just a dream to you. Close your eyes."

Percy did so, letting his vision be overtaken by darkness. He could feel Poseidon's hands on his temples, a soothing feeling coming from the worn calluses of the man. He smelled like sea salt. A feeling spread through his body, somehow feeling like a warm chill - it didn't make sense, but it felt comforting. Like the sea within his veins.

"Percy! Sandwiches!"

Percy's eyes shot open at his Mom's call, his head shooting over towards her. But he paused.

Poseidon was gone.

No beach chair, no Hawaiian shirt, nothing. Just gone, like a whisper in the wind.

Just him and the beach.

Percy shook his head in disbelief.

Must have been a dream.

"Vengeance is in my heart, death in my hand…

Percy screamed in agony.

He was a tortured soul, once more being subjected to the gallows.

Kronos ripped Annabeth's dagger out of her stomach, a sickening squelch accompanying the blood spilling onto the marble floor. Annabeth choked, falling to her knees, light fading from her eyes, a waterfall of red falling from her chest. Her eyes were wide, looking straight at Kronos's, gray meeting not Luke Castellan's blue, but Kronos' gold.

Annabeth coughed.

She fell to the side, the blood loss unsustainable. Percy's last pillar descended into the underworld against her will.

Dead.

His love was gone. The only reason he was able to get through the last few years, his rock. His pillar. His Wise Girl.

Gone.

Ripped from him.

Stolen.

Dead.

And in just a single second, Percy felt the most intense feeling he had ever felt. On par with the blessing of the Styx, but from the inside. From his veins. Like something was burning up, eroding within him.

His vision danced. He saw flashes of stars bursting, lights all across his vision. He saw flashes of a sandcastle, towers broken atop one another. He saw the waves crashing over him. And a vision of his father, staring down at him, green eyes switching between a kindly manner and an intense glare.

That hadn't been a dream, that day at Montauk.

His father really had given him something, some kind of block. To protect him, Poseidon had said.

Well, that something had broken.

His blood glowed blue, an intense blue that lit his body up from the inside. It was an unbelievable feeling, like something was getting sucked out of his body. A shield he was being disarmed of.

And Percy suddenly could feel… everything.

The world felt like it came into focus. Everything was dialed to eleven - he could feel the air itself. He could feel the heat from Kronos' body, smell the embers of the fires outside, taste the copper from Annabeth's blood -

No.

Can't focus on that.

Focus on the enemy.

Percy took a deep breath, feeling the temperature of the air, the vibrations of Kronos' staggering footsteps, the smoke sneaking in the open doors to the throne room. He let himself succumb to the world, to the environment.

He let his power take him.

He pulsed blue, and disappeared.

"Where did you go, boy?"

While Kronos re-tightened the straps of his armor, he jerked his head around, trying to search for Percy. But his movements were robotic, lurching - Luke was still fighting his influence.

But Percy didn't even truly know where in the room he was. He had simply let go - let whatever blessing he possessed take over, and allow himself to be swept aside.

And now, he knew where Kronos' weak spot was. And it seemed like he could stalk him, with ease.

Stalk his prey.

It was time to end this.

Percy wound up behind Kronos, standing next to Artemis's silver throne, Anaklusmos in his hand. Kronos spun wildly, a tangle of limbs as Kronos and Luke fought a mental fistfight for control.

He darted forwards, Anaklusmos slashing downwards in a vicious strike, splitting two of the straps down the middle, Kronos' armor weakening. His weak spot wasn't exposed just yet.

Percy once more acted on instinct, shooting upwards, his feet not making contact with any ground. He hovered, floating mid-air, above Kronos' head. Kronos never saw him.

Holy shit. He could fly.

Percy shook his head, rage rearing its head again. He flung himself to the right, floating in the air behind a column.

The Titan spun around, roaring.

"Sea scum! Come out, come out!"

Once more, as Kronos' back was turned, Percy darted through the air, separating the rest of the shoulder straps with another clean, midair slice from Anaklusmos. The armor fell, exposing Kronos' entire right side.

This time, Kronos attempted a swing with Annabeth's dagger, the scythe still stuck in Hestia's hearth. But he was clearly more attuned to a heavier weapon, and Luke's influence certainly didn't help the accuracy of the swing. He missed wide.

Percy skidded to a stop, landing on his feet after his wild dive down through the throne room. He stood defiant, Anaklusmos held up in front of him, looking the part of the vengeful warrior in a Hollywood film.

All he could feel was the heartbreak. Not even the fear of the Titan King could be felt.

Kronos was just another monster.

"There you are, boy."

Percy's stoic expression didn't change. "I'm here."

Kronos sneered in both hatred and a growing sense of desperation. Percy could've sworn the Titan's eyes flashed blue for a moment.

They were. As Percy launched off his back foot once more, he could see his opponent's eyes rapidly flashing, swapping between a glowing gold and an electrifying blue. Kronos wasn't able to raise a defense, Luke doing his utmost to prevent his body from moving.

It was everything Kronos hadn't wanted to happen.

Percy slashed down one, a long blade of water shooting out the tip of the sword, the power of the sea and the air behind the slash. Kronos tried to parry, but Luke halted his movements, arm glitching in mid-air, unable to reach Anaklusmos.

The sword bit right into Kronos' side. The Titan howled in agony, as if Styx water was poured into the cut. The room seemed to glow, Percy's enemy practically going supernova, and Percy had to cover his eyes.

And suddenly, it was quiet.

Percy tentatively looked over his forearm. He took a deep breath.

Luke was sprawled out on the marble floor, reaching out for Annabeth's body, tears in his eyes. He was gasping for breath, blood matting his hair. He was bleeding heavily from his mortal point.

Percy crouched next to him, meeting him face-to-face. Luke glanced upwards, meeting his sight.

"Thank you, Perce." He coughed out. "I'm sorry."

"I know."

Luke coughed, spitting a glob of blood onto the floor. "I tried my best at the end."

"You did. You did."

Percy collapsed onto the floor, taking a moment to rest his legs.

Luke tried to prop himself on his side, looking at Annabeth.

"You weren't wrong," Percy said after a beat.

"What?"

"That day, in the woods. When you ranted about how the gods don't care. You were right." Percy's shoulders sank. "I had lost my Mom. But I still had hope."

"Perce…" Once more, a hacking cough. "It's my fault Annabeth - "

"No, Luke. It's not," Percy said, a fire behind his eyes. "My mom died. But in four years, I've lost Zoe, Bianca, Grover, Beckendorf, Travis, Lee, Silena, Anna…" He choked up. "That's not my fault. It's not their fault, or your fault. It's Olympus's fault. Zeus, Hera, the whole deal. This is on them."

Percy punched the floor in anger.

"This is on them."

Luke took a staggered breath, fighting against the blood loss. "What are you going to do?"

Percy ran his hand through his hair. "I don't know."

"Whatever you do…" Luke gasped. "Do it better than I did. Please."

Percy nodded, his heart panging in loss and anger.

"They're gonna pay."

Luke smiled. "I trust you, Perce. Go save us."

He took one more gasp, and his final breath was exhaled.

"I will."

Percy closed his eyes, fingers tightening around Anaklusmos.

He thought of his Mom, killed at the hand of the King.

He thought of Bianca, killed by Hephaestus' scraps he didn't need anymore.

He thought of Zoe, killed by her father on a quest to save a goddess because the rest of Olympus had deemed it beneath them to help.

He thought of Travis and Lee and Grover and all those who hadn't survived the defense of Olympus, something they had to mount at the last minute, all because Olympus had pretended Kronos wasn't rising.

He thought of Annabeth, doomed to die in a fight she shouldn't have needed to fight.

So much loss.

The room was dead silent, the crackling of the few fires bouncing strangely around the throne room.

I will.

A tear carved through the grime accumulated on his cheek.

Percy turned his eyes away from his broken love and his fallen enemy, walking towards the open throne room doors. Sounds of battle boomed outside. Thunder shook the air, while multi-colored flashes illuminated the sky below Olympus. A monster roared.

Typhon was still up.

Percy stumbled out into the carnage of Olympus, Anaklusmos held at his side, fingers glued to the hilt, knuckles white. His clothes were ruined - blood stained whatever tatters were left.

Statues had crumbled. Columns had fallen. Bodies littered the city of gold, while both orange and green fires dotted the hillside. Puddles of blood reflected the horror of their origins back at Percy's vision. It was atrocious.

But Percy barely noticed.

He walked down the steps, staring ahead. He barely registered the horrific smell permeating the atmosphere. All he could think of was his fallen friends.

And the bastards that let it happen.

It's all their fault.

Their fault.

They sat on the sidelines.

They ignored what was right in front of them.

Annabeth was dead because of them.

Percy knelt down at the bottom of the steps, putting his palm down on the marble walkway. His body shuddered with the wretched cries of the wounded, the hurt, the betrayed. Of loss.

He took a deep breath.

In.

Out.

And his face steeled. His eyes lit aflame with purpose, a hatred more pure than anything Percy had felt in years. A blind rage, but with total concentration. He snarled, Luke's lifeblood still dripping from Anaklusmos. He looked like a madman, and in some ways, Percy was. But he was a madman with a goal.

He turned back towards the throne room, making that same clawed gesture he had seen Grover make those years ago. He shoved it towards the Olympians' seats of power, a harsh breeze accompanying the gesture.

"For you, Wise Girl," he muttered.

He turned back to the mountain, spying a cliff that fell off behind a storefront, olive wood and golden decorations speckled with splatters of ichor. There was a fence, a short one, the only thing standing between Percy and a long fall down to the island of Manhattan.

Percy thought about the demigods who might not fully empathize with his point of view. Frankly, he didn't want them to empathize. He didn't want them to feel the same amount of loss that he had felt.

This was his chance to ensure they never would.

"I know what I have to do."

Percy ran forward, channeling his anger through his legs as he surged into the air, taking a huge leap of both faith and height. He easily cleared the fence, and the ground, and the floating island of Olympus as a whole.

He plunged into the fiery chaos of Manhattan.

A dive of faith.

The wind whistled past Percy's head. The night sky had fallen, sun no longer illuminating what would have been a beautiful view during his skydive - instead, it was an unsettling darkness, the clouds obscuring the view of Manhattan.

Loud rumbles of thunder rolled across the atmosphere, loud enough where they might as well have been shaking the sky.

Percy closed his eyes as he fell into a cloud, the ice crystals bouncing off his Styx-powered skin.

A jet of red light shot out of a cloud, headed upwards. Ares must've missed.

A roar from Typhon, more anguished than anything else. That was curious.

Percy felt the open air on his skin replace the peppering of ice crystals, and he opened his eyes once more. His eyes grew wide as he registered the insanity in the scene laid out in front of him.

The level of destruction across the island was unforeseen, even by somebody who had been on the streets for the past, well, however many days. Fires dotted the entire island, replacing the lights that would normally be shining no matter the hour of day. Bridges burned if they hadn't already collapsed. Screams could be heard across the island from humanity discovering the true trauma of a war hidden from their vision. And worst of all was the trail of destruction left behind by Typhon, his path carved through the cityscapes and the New Jersey landscape off into the horizon. It reminded Percy of footage seen in a Godzilla movie.

The aforementioned Typhon was at his knees in the Hudson River, waves churning and crashing up against the seawalls with his frantic movements. Around him stood a group of Cyclopes thirty-feet tall, wielding huge black chains with links as wide as a man, each one ensnaring a different section of the monster. They held him in place, slowly bringing him closer and closer to the River, the storm brought to its knees.

The Olympians remaining in the battle took free shots onto their chained foe. Zeus rained down bolts of lightning, Master Bolt working overtime. Arrows lit ablaze were shot by the sixes from Apollo's bow, while Artemis' arrows shot through the sky like moonlit bullets. Ares fired off a series of blood red blasts of energy, and slashing the beast whenever he drew close. Poseidon threw his trident, impaling Typhon in such a way that a fountain of ichor sprayed into the air. Athena stabbed the monster behind its knee, forcing it lower and lower, legs buckling. And slowly, with the Cyclopes' chains pulling him down, the monster sank beneath the waves, until its head disappeared beneath a whirlpool.

Perfect.

He needed to act. Now.

Percy spotted Zeus hovering above the whirlpool, golden armor adorning his body, Master Bolt held aloft in his head. He shot towards his target, air propelling the soles of his shoes, shooting through the sky like a celestial body.

No way back.

As Zeus looked down, mouth open to yell something to Ares, Percy roared across the sky, heaving Anaklusmos down in a powerful shot across the back of his neck, sword moving at near terminal velocity. It had whistled through the air, cleaving down with authority.

The whistling made Zeus look back slightly. The accuracy of Percy's attack was no longer perfect, and the blade partly clanged off the golden armor, missing the open chink between the helmet and breastplate. But a small part of the blade bit skin, and golden ichor began leaking out from the King of the Gods.

Zeus roared in pain and surprise. His yell rivaled the thunder he himself had caused just minutes prior, shattering the glass of the windows at the top of the nearby skyscrapers. The weight of the blade, screaming down from the heavens like an anvil, jolted Zeus down towards the earth.

The Olympian's attention instantly shot to Zeus. And Percy.

But Percy was already moving. He had shot over to Ares, charting a dangerous and beautiful path across the Manhattan sky, moving with a grace he'd only ever felt underwater. Before Ares had even registered what was happening, Percy struck, a heavy blow to the god's side just underneath his chestplate. The blow registered with such force that Ares' own war helmet slipped off his head.

"JACKSON?!"

Percy didn't respond.

He parried a blow from Ares, the sneering god leaving a trail of red through the sky as he took a swing from his chariot. The slash didn't feel as strong as those years back on the beach - Typhon probably took a lot out of him.

Nevertheless, Percy grabbed Ares' loose helmet before dropping it, tumbling down out of the atmosphere, before darting towards the front of the War God's chariot. Another slash of Anaklusmos, and the chariot began to tilt dangerously. Ares had to grab for the side of the chariot to steady himself.

"Fuck! Jackson -"

A lightning bolt blasted through the air, the master bolt glowing and releasing a blast nearly equivalent to the ones that took down Typhon. But Percy dropped like a stone through the sky, and the blast only served to completely destroy Ares' chariot into a million splinters, the War God plunging to the ground, shaking from the electrocution.

A golden arrow found the crook of Percy's neck, bouncing off but nonetheless jerking Percy forward. He stretched his neck with an angry frown, eyes finding the twin archers aloft on their own rides, bows strung and arrows nocked.

Both Artemis and Apollo let loose a series of arrows, peppering the air like a machine gun, beams of sunlight and moonlight intended to harm. But Percy raised his hand, channeling his heritage and his gift, a barrier of wind and water appearing before him. The arrows didn't make it through.

"What happened?" Apollo cried out.

Another lightning bolt, this time from above, outside Percy's peripheral vision. It struck home, Percy's own helmet being blasted into the Hudson. The Styx rejected the effects of electrocution once more, but the power behind the blow pushed Percy even lower.

"He had to have been possessed by Kronos," shouted Artemis, concerned.

And even lower was Athena. She surged upwards before Percy could regain his balance, putting her shoulder behind a massive blow with Aegis. Percy was able to partially fling himself to the side, but it still struck Percy's side, sending him tumbling head over toes. He felt like Iron Man, tumbling without any power in his thrusters.

His wind barrier collapsed, and multiple arrows found their way to his body, sticking into crooks of his armor. But his skin held firm.

He growled.

Percy took a deep breath, stabilizing himself just a few stories above the Hudson. He glared upwards, taking stock. Apollo and Artemis were looking at him, twin concerned looks on their faces. Athena was incensed, and Zeus' anger seemed almost impossible, stretching the limits of facial expressions. Demeter and Hera floated in their chariots, albeit behind the rest, away from the battle. They both seemed exhausted.

"You did this," Percy spat. "You."

He raised his hands, and the river began to swirl.

Athena's eyes widened, and she dived down towards Percy, spear tip pointed over the top of Aegis. Apollo and Artemis once more nocked their arrows, dual volleys of sun and moon speeding towards him in nary a second. Zeus cocked his arm back, Master Bolt prepared to fire. Even Demeter and Hera raised their weapons.

But then the river rose.

The water flowing down the Hudson seemed to halt in its march, rising up towards Percy like a wall, an unbelievable amount of water under Percy's control. His muscles strained to lift the river, but it heeded his call, rising up to touch his toes. It was like he was chest pressing the weight of the river, arms bent backwards.

He felt a burst of energy, adrenaline kicking in even further. His vision sharpened, his mind cleared.

Percy felt… godlike.

He thrust his arms forward, the water responding accordingly. A wall built itself up like the sides of a dome, reaching up to intercept the arrows from the twin archers. Another jet of water seemed to explode from the river towards Athena's charging form, stopping her in her path and blasting her back towards the horizon.

Anaklusmos flashed in the darkness, bronze reflecting the moonlight. Percy didn't know it, but his eyes were starting to glow. The sea was dark, frothing like in the midst of a hurricane. And Percy was the angry sea lord, intent on bringing down the ship that had dared intrude on its territory.

Zeus let go the blast from his master bolt, a powerful blast that seemed to tear open the sky. Percy summoned the river to intercept, but the bolt punctured even through the water itself, heading towards Percy. He dove to the side, water helping him with his mobility, but the bolt still hit him on his side.

Percy was thrown to his side, his control over the river slipping momentarily. Percy grunted, but closed his fists once more, reaching his will out over the river once more, commanding the water.

He froze.

The water didn't respond.

Percy's eyes widened as the water seemed to form a massive ball around him, trapping him in the orb no longer under his control. The edges of the orb seemed to coalesce to be nigh-solid, enough so as to prevent Percy from leaving.

The orb sank down towards the riverbed, the contents of the river sloshing about in its natural habitat once again.

"Son."

Percy steeled himself, before turning. He locked eyes with his father, who was wearing the same damn Hawaiian shirt he had those years ago in Montauk. He wore an unreadable expression, not betraying any emotion. His trident was held in his right hand, but not in an offensive capacity - practically just as a walking stick.

He held Anaklusmos up, defensively. "Father."

"Why are you doing this?"

Percy snarled. "Because of Olympus. You made me do this."

"How so, Percy?"

"You let them die, damnit!" Percy shouted. "You sat back, ignorant and greedy, and let your children fight your own fucking battles. No wonder it turned out like this."

"Percy, what… who died?"

Percy stared at Poseidon, before a desperate laugh bubbled up through his airways. He fell back, resting on the floor of the bubble, water supporting him. A laugh filled with pain and torture, of sadness and insanity.

"Who didn't?" Percy got out between cries, the laughing sobs wracking his body. The river filled with tears.

"Annabeth?"

Percy's knuckles whitened as he once more gripped Anaklusmos, this time almost involuntarily. He didn't respond.

"I'm so sorry, Percy."

Percy snorted. "It's your fault. All of you, sitting up on your high thrones, ignorant. You did this.``

Poseidon had tears on his cheeks. He took a shaky breath, a weakness largely ever shown by Olympians. The tears of the ocean.

"I'm sorry, son. You deserve better."

The butt of the trident filled Percy's vision, faster than Percy could comprehend. It hit him right in his forehead, the hit reverberating around Percy's brain, like a runaway train hitting a stationary human.

As Percy felt his vision fade to black, his consciousness fade, he heard his father whisper one last thing, right next to his ear.

"But I can't let you do this."

Percy fell into unconsciousness.

…Blood and revenge are hammering in my head."

William Shakespeare

"Get him up."

Percy's head was lifted up by his hair, before a punch jolted him fully out of his groggy state. He opened his bleary eyes, taking in the space before him.

He was back on Olympus.

This time, chained down.

The Gods all sat on their thrones once more, the damage done by Kronos still visible. Each and every one of them sat in their battle regalia, weapons at the ready. And they all looked pissed - Zeus was practically radiating lightning, Master Bolt on his lap, while most of the Gods seemed just angry.

As, Percy supposed, he would expect.

Only a few seemed to not be edge-of-their-seat furious - Poseidon was just more sad than any other emotion, while Artemis seemed a little perplexed. Athena had an unreadable expression, but Percy wondered if Annabeth's death had shook her at all.

He hoped it had. If it didn't… Athena was beyond saving.

Percy took in more of the room, and he realized something that forced him to close his eyes.

Luke's body still lay in the center of the throne room, right in front of him. Practically propped up in front of him. Percy couldn't tear his eyes away. It was a macabre sight, one that he simply wasn't fully prepared for.

Thankfully, Annabeth's body had been removed. Percy didn't think he would've been able to deal with that.

He clenched his eyes shut. Not again. Don't think about her. Don't.

"Jackson," Zeus said, thunder in his voice. "This is your trial."

Percy spat on the ground. "Fuck you."

"Shut up, punk," Ares growled spitefully.

"Ares…" Poseidon warned. The War God harrumphed, leaning back into his ugly throne.

"Sea spawn…" Percy's father shifted at the innuendo in Zeus' voice. "You are charged with treason against Olympus. How do you plead?"

Percy choked out a laugh at the absurdity of the situation. Feet away from him was Luke's dead body after trying to make a sacrifice to save the world, one that he wasn't able to fulfill - and Zeus was trying to hold a show trial.

"Really?"

"Yes, Perseus."

"Uhhh, fine. I suppose I'm guilty of finally doing something about your dumbasses."

"Fine. All those in favor of execution?"

"Do not be so hasty, Lord Zeus!" Poseidon jumped in, speaking before anyone could raise their hands. "Let us discuss this in detail."

Zeus leveled Poseidon with a stormy glare, eyes boring into him. Poseidon challenged with his own glare, and the tension in the room skyrocketed even further.

But then the rising tension seemed to stop.

In fact, Olympus seemed to stop. Poseidon and Zeus stared at each other still, but it was a lifeless stare, no malice or emotion behind it. As Percy scanned the room, every Olympian seemed to have fully stilled, no movement or awareness evident. It was as if they had turned into the marble statues that displayed their likenesses.

Time had frozen.

"Yes, let us discuss."

Percy whirled his head around, startled at the sudden voice.

Hovering behind him was an unfamiliar man. A purple cape billowed from his shoulders, his facial features largely hidden behind a golden helmet engraved with an eagle. An impressive set of similar golden armor adorned the man's body, although it seemed closer to ceremonial than truly battle-ready.

But what caught Percy off guard was the intense golden eyes peering from behind the helmet, brimming with power.

Percy narrowed his eyes. "Kronos."

The man raised his gloved hands in mock surrender. "Nope, he's dead. I did freeze time, but I'm somebody else"

"Who?"

He shook his head. "No can do. You'll learn, but we have to act quickly."

"What?" Percy cocked his head in confusion. "Act?"

The man lowered his hands, floating over towards Luke's body. "Yes, Percy," he said with a bit of a lilt. "Act."

The being looked off to his side, almost like he was listening to something, before reaching into the air. A syringe seemed to materialize in his grasp. Percy winced backwards.

"What is that?"

The man sighed, crouching down next to Luke's body. "If you want to make a change in the hierarchy of the world, you must have the power to do so. This is how."

He jabbed the syringe into Luke's arm, body still warm. Drawing the syringe back, it filled with blood, a mix between a red and a gold. The colors didn't combine, though - they simply swirled amongst one another.

"What the fuck?" Percy cried out. "How would that help anybody?!"

The man was nonplussed, rising from his crouch. He held the syringe out in front of him, focusing. Before Percy's eyes, the red blood and golden ichor seemed to separate, the red flying out through the syringe's opening, an arc spilling onto the floor until only golden blood remained within the vial.

"Ok. Percy, I need you to drink this."

Percy stared dumbfounded.

The man started walking towards him, and Percy instinctually struggled against the chains, trying to back away.

"Hell no."

"No, no, you have to. It was decided."

"Go fuck yourself."

The man paused, before he seemed to sigh, wiping his forehead. "Right. Yeah, ok. So, drinking ichor from an immortal is basically how mortals get blessings. So by drinking this, you'll be able to control time… to a degree."

Percy stared at the figure, dumbfounded. "Are you fucking me?"

"No."

"But why blood? Why don't they just have some, I don't know, blessing by touch?"

"Not how it works."

"What about, like, the Hunters of Artemis? Don't they just glow a little?"

"That's just for show. Artemis puts it in their dinner the first night, pretty sure."

"That's bizarre."

"Ok. I need you to drink this."

"No!"

"Why not?" The man cocked his head to the side, ejecting the syringe's content into a small flask that appeared.

"That's just gross!" Percy said.

"It may be," the man said. "But how do you think you were able to fly?"

Percy shrugged.

"Using the water in the air?"

"No, no. That can work at times, but not to that degree. No, you were blessed before. Given blood."

"What?"

The man rubbed his forehead. "Ah, never mind."

"This is seriously the only way?"

"Well, you could've killed Bes - the Ophiotaurus, but you apparently didn't think about that."

Percy sat still for a moment, dumbfounded. He had totally forgotten about Bessie.

"Oh."

"Eh, she's nearly impossible to reach anyway. That tank is ridiculously powerful, so I've been told. It would've taken a miracle to get in. Maybe another time, though."

Percy gestured around him at the Gods, still frozen on their haughty thrones. "I… I probably won't have another time, you know."

"Oh, no, you'll be fine. You'll see."

"How do you know?"

"Oh, for fucks sake. Drink this."

The man reached for Percy's head, lifting the flask up to his lips. Percy tried to wince away once more, but the man grabbed his chin, pulling him towards the flask. Soon enough, Percy felt the flask on his lips.

"Stop struggling, jeez."

Percy clenched his eyes shut as the liquid began to dribble into his mouth, but it didn't taste horrendous. It was like an energy drink, with a bit of a kick to it, albeit a metallic one at that.

He felt energized, completely. Like being drenched with ocean water, supercharged. He felt like he could've ripped the chains out of the ground with his own two arms. Every part of his body felt supercharged. He felt powerful.

The feeling passed. Percy felt himself come back down to earth, finding himself once more in his mortal shell. But he knew… he knew there was something more within him.

"That felt…"

"Good, I'm sure. I know the feeling."

The man turned around, walking back towards the center of the throne room. "I best be off. Some more fun awaits me."

"Wait…" Percy sounded out. "Who are you?"

The man looked back at him. "You'll find out back at Camp Jupiter."

"Huh? What's that?"

"Don't worry about it. And also, seriously, you'll be fine. But don't try to get out of what happens. Everything happens for a reason, alright?"

The man turned away from Percy once more, and seemed to disintegrate, body falling into a golden dust that seemed to hover in midair for a moment, reflecting the sunlight coming in through the grand windows of Olympus. But nearly as fast as it had happened, the dust dissipated until there was simply no clue as to the being ever being present.

At the same moment, the Gods seemed to jump back into action. Poseidon and Zeus both continued staring each other down, Hera continued staring at Percy with a calculating look, Dionysus flipped the page on his wine catalog. All was back to normal speed.

Percy blinked a few times. What the hell.

"I am still in favor of execution, Poseidon," Zeus rumbled. "Your words will not sway me."

"Let's kill the traitor!" Ares belted.

"I will not let this stand!" Poseidon shouted. "Something must have happened to my boy! He would not have done this on his own."

"His actions speak loud enough, Poseidon," Athena said.

"We will hold a vote!" Zeus said. "My decision is final. All those in favor of execution, please, raise your hand."

Zeus' hand went up. Hera's was by his side, hand waving in the air. Ares had shot up immediately, enthusiasm behind the motion, while Athena's was a bit more cautious. So too had the hands of Dionysus, Demeter, and Hephaestus. Even Hermes' hand went up, who had simply been staring at Luke's body the entire session - Percy had a feeling he wasn't even sure what he was voting for right now.

"Those opposed?"

Poseidon's hands went up. Aphrodite's was surprisingly quick, to which she uttered out - "It's just so impossibly tragic!" Artemis' hand tentatively rose in the air, which Percy chalked up to her confusion - she seemed to be inquisitive atop her throne, trying to piece together something she was missing. And Apollo… wait.

"Apollo, are you alright?" Athena asked, concerned.

The Olympian Council moved as one, shooting their attention to Apollo. The normally exuberant god was slumped over, seemingly unconscious. It was as if something had taken control of him.

Oh.

The God shot upright, eyes lit green as smoke poured from his mouth, dramatically spreading out from his throne. It was like watching a zombie thriller, seeing the undead rising from the streets for the first time.

The Oracle was present.

Apollo centered his attention on the floor, green smoke emanating from his face. The ghastly voice of the Oracle began to speak as the Gods watched, enraptured.

"Seven half-bloods shall answer the call.

To the stormbringer's son, the world will fall.

A friend to save with a final breath,

And foes bear arms to the Doors of Death."

With a gasp, Apollo sank back into his throne, the green effect fading away, smoke curling up into the lofty Olympic heights. He grasped for a handhold, pulling himself into a seated position, wiping his sweaty brow.

"Apollo… what was that?" Artemis asked.

"A prophecy, numbskull!" Ares exclaimed. Artemis glared at him, as did Hermes and Apollo. Ares shrank, just a bit.

"That," Apollo proclaimed, "was the next Great Prophecy, if I am not mistaken. What did I say exactly?"

"The Doors of Death? The world must fall? That's very… dark." Demeter said.

"I'm not dealing with seven brats thinking they can decide to fight us willy-nilly." Dionysus mused, perusing through his wine catalog.

"Wait… Stormbringer's son." Athena spoke. "Is that…?"

All eyes looked towards Percy.

"It must be," Poseidon spoke, trying not to betray the level of excitement behind his eyes.

"No! I will not have it!" Zeus thundered, turning towards his brother. "You did this, didn't you!"

"Me! How would I have done anything! It's the Oracle, oh mighty King!"

Zeus reached for his Bolt, but Hera's hand found his arm instead. Zeus turned, surprised.

Hera had a look about her face, a conniving look that seemed to only cause Percy to shuffle in his chains. She had something planned.

"I have an idea." Her voice came out as calm, but Percy could sense the cold behind it.

Zeus acquiesced, giving her the floor.

"If I had to hazard a guess, Perseus is likely important in this prophecy," Hera began. "And we know that trying to avert a prophecy by killing a cog in the machine doesn't work out well. Thus, we need to do something with Perseus. But we cannot let him go in his current state."

"What do you propose, sister?" Poseidon asked, eyes narrowed.

"I have a plan. I need you all to trust me, for I cannot tell you all now. But I can tell you one thing - he will not remember the acts he has committed today."

"Now, Hera - "

"It is this, or execution. Or he continues to plan a revolt against us, swaying more people to his cause. We must act, and my plan is the only logical action."

"My wife, he has committed treason!" Zeus sounded like a disappointed child.

"Yes, Lord Zeus. And once this prophecy is complete, you may do to him as you like. But for our purposes, we must preserve him for now."

"Hmm. Alright, fine. All in favor of Hera's plan?"

Every Olympian besides Poseidon and Artemis put their hands up.

"The motion is passed. He's all yours."

Percy locked eyes with Hera. She was staring straight at him, brown eyes alight with victory. Percy steeled himself.

Who knows what she had planned. Or where life would take him next.

But he would fight on.

He swore it.

"I shall revenge myself in the cruelest way you can imagine…"

Percy stepped into the doorway, sand beneath his toes, the sounds of the ocean behind him. He took a look around, marveling at how similar it was. No wonder Elysium was spoken of so highly - the cottage was an identical replica of their place at Montauk. The floorboards were just rotted enough to give it the same charm. The window was broken in the same place. The decorations faded just right.

It was perfect.

"Mom?"

Footsteps answered his call. From the kitchen came his Mom, black hair tied up in a bun, eyes shining. She had an apron on, caked in flour - she must've been baking. Perhaps those cookies Cary mentioned she made here.

Sally's eyes were wide. She froze as she saw him out of disbelief. She dropped a spatula she was using to the floor, hands covering her mouth.

"P-Percy?"

Percy stepped forwards, entering the cottage.

"Hey Mom. It's… it's me."

Percy found himself enveloped in her arms, tears soaking his shirt. The cries came quick and fast, and soon mother and son were holding each other for dear life, neither willing to let the other go. A reunion the scale of which was only written about in the myths.

"I'm so proud of you, Percy."

"Proud? You don't know what I've done."

"Percy… anything you do, I would trust. You're a good soul. Do not doubt yourself."

"If you say so, Mom."

"How about…" Sally sniffled, choking out her words. "How about we talk over some cookies, yeah? I want to know what you've been up to."

Percy wiped his tears away. "I'd really like that."

"...I shall forget it."

John Steinbeck

Percy woke up.

The tears had started before he had opened his eyes.

Frank and Hazel awoke to the tears of the tortured and the cries of the damned.

A/N: It's all coming together now…

Sorry for the poor uploading schedule. College started back up and is very, very hectic. I'm trying my best, you guys are awesome for sticking around. Your comments always inspire me. Hope you all enjoyed reading, and have a good rest of your week :)