A/N: Honestly, this chapter is completely optional to read. Also it's like 8k words. I really like the last scene of the last chapter as this story's stopping point, but I also wanted to write a more "traditional" epilogue because I know sadder endings aren't for everyone. Regardless of whether or not you read this one, thank you so much for making it this far, and I hope you've enjoyed the ride :)

Chapter 22: Epilogue

Chiron smiled from the front porch, listening to the restless chirping of the hundreds of campers gathered on the Big House lawn. Their camp director had called a mandatory meeting set to begin at noon, but it was 12:05, and he was the only one still not here.

Rhythmic pulses began to hum, and Chiron squinted against the sun as several demigods took flight. Some hovered shakily, still learning how to control the backpack-like contraptions that had become the craze at camp over the last century.

The demigods' growing impatience had given way to bouts of midair jousting, to which the audience below roared its approval. Chiron's stallion half began to nervously pace the farmhouse deck, but he joined in with the crowd's oohs and aahs when combatants clashed in the sky. The old centaur was about to shout up at them to be more careful when the front door of the Big House creaked open.

The active duel froze instantly. Both demigods' batons dipped, and their back-equipped vehicles hummed to hovering halts. The audience had already shifted its collective gaze to the farmhouse, silently watching Camp Half-Blood's director trudge to the edge of the building's steps. He stared out at the campers with bleary eyes and took a sip from the steaming cup in his hand. The silence lasted only a moment longer before a boy at the front of the crowd looked the director up and down.

"Wow, you look terrible, Mr. Di."

Chiron had to suppress a smirk while snickers danced their way across the lawn. Deep onyx eyes bored down on the camper while a pale hand made its way to the hilt of a Stygian Iron blade. The weapon was drawn in an instant, and, in another fraction of a second, it had transformed into a black coffee stirrer. While twirling it in his cup, the director continued to stare at the demigod, who was as relaxed as he'd been when he'd spoken.

"Come on, Jordan, it can't be that bad."

Laughter rolled across the crowd at the grogginess in the god's voice. Nico di Angelo, the camp's director, had all of the physical markings of an edgy recluse: he always wore all black, even the sleepwear he was in now; his hair was an afterthought to him, the black knots curling wildly down to his shoulders; and his skin made it seem like he rarely saw sun. But none of his less-sociable characteristics were his defining quality; that spot was reserved for his levity. So, a thick rasp in his normally-lively tone had turned Nico into the spitting image of his infamous father.

The front lawn quieted as Nico yawned loudly. Chiron rested his elbows on the Big House's wraparound porch, eyeing the camp director with a glint in his eye. Way back when Nico had been a demigod, he'd been as antisocial as his appearance would have led people to believe. At that point, the future god hadn't discovered his voice, and the reason he eventually had was also the reason he was so tired this morning.

"Mr. Di," Chiron began, always tasting the irony of the nickname that could only have been concocted by a son of Hades, "Could you explain to the campers why you are late to your own meeting?"

Nico feigned a glare in the immortal trainer's direction, but before he could speak, another camper shouted from the middle of the lawn.

"He was definitely up all night holo-chatting with Mr. Solace!"

More laughter erupted while Nico's face burned red, his lips biting back the smile that tugged at them. A teasing chorus had risen from the crowd, only slowing when Nico raised his coffee stirrer overhead. It transformed into a bullhorn, amplifying his livening voice across the lawn.

"Alright, alright, we've got an important announcement!" The array of demigods stilled. "A very special guest is coming to camp today, and under no circumstances will she be disturbed."

Naturally, demigods' whispers ran their course as they wondered who it could be, but Nico didn't make them wait long. He sighed, bracing himself.

"It's the Queen of the Gods."

The Big House's foundations seemed to shake as a tide of demigods rushed to reach its steps among a cacophony of pleading shouts. Both Chiron and Nico held out their arms, attempting to quell the demigod armada. The bullhorn in Nico's hand began to glow as it raised his voice louder than the collective that wanted to see Annabeth.

"That means no holo-phone projections, no invisibility sherpas, no liftpacks! NO SPYING!"

The Big House stampede eventually devolved to a round of prolonged groans. Nico continued.

"She invented all of the methods you'll come up with, meaning she'll catch you. And when she does, I can't save you."

Nico grinned watching the campers roll their eyes, not a single one fooled by his empty threat. All of them deeply admired Annabeth, regardless of whether they'd met the goddess themselves. In some way or another, she was connected to everything they knew.

The Queen of the Gods had reigned from Olympus for two-thousand years, and the world had become infinitely better for it. Calamities like global warming, world hunger, and war itself had been written off within the first century. Since then, the planet had been revolutionized incessantly, whether through technology, art, or people themselves. Favored demigods had led, and continued to lead, the world under her guidance, constantly inching the mortal realm towards an overworld Elysium.

The lawn's occupants continued to voice their discontent, either through muffled grumbling or growing shouts. Nico could see on the campers' faces that they didn't plan on leaving the subject alone, and that left him only one option. Forcing down a smile, Nico cleared his throat over the objections still rolling in.

"Percy! Jaye!" the god barked, and the gathered demigods immediately fell silent. "Anyone mentions your aunt's name again, you have my express permission to pincushion them."

The domesticated mob split wary glances between two sentinels standing on opposite sides of the lawn. One held a wolfish grin while she twirled an arrow in her hand. The girl's electric blue eyes stared through strands of her short black hair, amusedly watching the campers avoid her gaze. The other girl stood rigidly, both hands firm on the limbs of her bow. Her chocolate-brown hair marched down her back in a tight braid, barely swaying as kaleidoscopic eyes traced the campers nearest her.

Persephone and Jaye, the unofficial, immortal enforcers of Camp Half-Blood, jumped at any opportunity to terrorize campers. More accurately, Persephone did while Jaye followed closely behind to make sure what actually needed to get done got done. Formed from the hearth and the blessings of their mothers, the twin daughters of Thalia and Piper had been born mortal. But, like their mothers, they both had joined the Hunt as teenagers, traveling with Artemis for several centuries.

It was just last month that Annabeth had forcibly remanded them to Camp Half-Blood with only a vague explanation as to why. Neither huntress had been happy about it, but Jaye carried out the new job dutifully while Persephone continued to figure out ways to rebel, which usually led to turmoil for the campers. But this was not one such instance, because something that everyone at camp already knew about their new employees was how much they loved Annabeth. The goddess may not be blood-related to the twins, but she absolutely was their aunt, and not a single camper was going to provoke them regarding her.

"Meeting dismissed!"

Nico's bullhorn reverted to his sword, quickly sheathed at his waist. The lawn cleared out quickly after that, the campers shedding their brief sorrow and splitting into groups across camp. The forge came alive, belching up vapor while the climbing wall gurgled with fresh lava being manifested in its troughs. Jaye and Percy seemed to vanish into thin air, likely already in the forest pretending to be traveling with the Hunt again.

Sighing as he lowered himself into a rocking chair, Nico turned his attention to Chiron, who had packed into the same wheelchair he'd held onto for thousands of years. The old centaur stroked his deeply grayed beard, grinning as his companion sipped from a constantly-refilling cup of coffee.

"Calling in the twins seemed a bit harsh, Mr Di," Chiron mused.

Nico smirked as he scratched an itch in his own beard, which was far less grey and much more in need of a trim.

"Maybe, but I'm trying to get them more involved with the campers like Annabeth asked. Especially Percy; she might act out the way she does, but I know she's a good kid. Just needs some more time."

"Much like her namesake."

A silence fell between them, the duo listening intently to the campers' laughter echoing across the strawberry fields. Midsummer's breeze carried the scent of Camp Half-Blood's blooming vineyards through the valley, dousing the air with its fleeting sweetness. In tandem, both Nico and Chiron's gaze shifted to the camp's lake, finding two people seated at the edge of the dock, swinging their legs off the short pier. It was Jordan, the boy who'd spoken first at the meeting, and Elise, his girlfriend. Chiron's eyes creased as he smiled towards the pair.

"In the months following the Eclipse, I used to sit right here and often find you and Mr. Solace on that same pier."

Nico's eyes lingered on the dock for a moment longer.

"I remember," he whispered, a gentle smile shaping his lips.

"How much longer is his trip? If you do not fix your sleep schedule soon, these campers will never let you live it down," Chiron warned, making Nico chuckle.

"Less than a week now. He's already made the rounds with all of the satellite camps in America. The one in Washington is building a little 'museum' to commemorate our former warbases becoming official camps."

The old centaur nodded.

"So he is in Europe? At the Roman co-op program?"

"Yeah, or he'll be there in a couple hours. He's riding on Leo's newest battleship, and I think this version means no more monsters even thinking about interrupting the sea journey." Nico paused for a moment. "Could you have ever imagined that? The Ancient Lands used to be a place demigods had to avoid at all costs, and now we host a Study-Abroad trip for them there."

Chiron laughed.

"I never imagined many things that exist now. In that same vein, I could not have conceived a warship that transforms into a metal man twice the size of Talos. Yet, here we have it, and Mr. Solace is sailing on it as if it were any other vessel."

"The SS Perseus," Nico grinned, reminiscent of his old friend, but his smile slowly faded. "I can't believe Annabeth's leaving today."

Chiron frowned as he laid a comforting hand on his former student's shoulder. But before he could impart any kind of reassurance, Nico spoke again.

"Did you ever want to be a god, Chiron? Just to have the option to pass on?" He pinched the hem of his shirt. "You've lived thousands of years longer than me, but you don't seem to be in any kind of hurry."

"Not even once, my boy," the old centaur answered, squeezing Nico's shoulder, "I have no reason to pass on, or fade, because I have already discovered my final state."

"And what's that?"

"A teacher. A bastion that stands in place while all of time runs its course. There will always be new demigods and new gods, and all of them will need guidance. That aid is my ultimate purpose, and it must be served here."

Nico considered the centaur's words for a minute before he nodded.

"That makes sense; we're lucky to have you." Nico clapped his own hand on Chiron's. "It's weird to remember that you'd be the second oldest person on the council today."

Chuckling, Chiron's fingers unconsciously moved to stroke his silvery beard.

"Yes; only Lady Hestia remains my senior now," he said before returning to his previous point, "From the time your father faded, inheriting his domains played a part in furthering your purpose. You moved forward on your journey, joining the Olympians and entering a new world of responsibilities."

"I did," Nico answered, "and you were here to teach me how to carry that burden. Annabeth was, too, and I've learned a lot in the last few centuries. But still, I have no idea what my final role, or purpose, will be."

Chiron stretched lightly in his wheelchair while Nico leaned back in his own seat.

"Maybe it's to sit here at camp with you forever, old man," the god appraised, side-eyeing his companion.

"Maybe it is," Chiron answered sincerely, "Searching for your purpose is a beautiful journey, but finding it and serving it is a peace unlike any other. I am glad Annabeth seems to have fulfilled her piece here. She has led this world impeccably, and she finally sees it fit to move forward without her."

Nico sniffed sharply as he fought against the well in his eyes. Turning his attention back towards the lake, he found the pair of demigods again. They were leaned against each other, shoulder-to-shoulder, one head resting atop the other. Clearing his throat, Nico wiped the sudden tears on his cheeks, not catching Chiron doing the same. He smiled, tasting a twinge of salt as he whispered.

"I'm so happy that she's going to see Percy again."

(Line Break)

"Divine Railways, now boarding! Next stop, Olympian Row!"

Annabeth silently stepped into the passenger car, gliding her way to a window seat. She waited as the rest of the carriage filled up, and, like always, neither of the other seats on her row found occupants. Quiet whispers began wafting through the train car before being cut off by the pleasant ding accompanying closing doors. Annabeth smiled, her vision focused on the bustling station outside of her window, but she could feel several pairs of eyes on her. That was par for the course when you were the Queen of Olympus.

Annabeth used to hate the way people revered her, how they would kneel or bow their heads in passing or how they would grant her excess space like they were doing now. But as century upon century passed, it became a bit of a funny thing. Annabeth started holding their veneration like an inside joke for just herself, imagining her persona in their eyes: regal, imposing, even prideful.

She could most willingly see a case made for that last one because it made her appear less-than-perfect, which of course she was. But even though everyone knew the story of the Great War and how Annabeth had come to lead Olympus, they seemed to forget an integral part of her ascension: she used to be mortal. In her own mind, Annabeth was still the person she'd been as a demigod, just with a lot more experience and the addition of some very cool powers. She sometimes wished the rest of the world could see her in that more-humanizing light, but, as the train hummed its way out of the station, Annabeth could understand why most people never would.

The passenger car seamlessly accelerated on its maglev rails, skimming atop what felt like air as the smoothstone walls of the station were left behind, replaced by the image of a godly city on all sides. Olympus' public transit system, with its trains that drifted on rails held up by nothing, carried its occupants at a vector one hundred feet in the air. The city's colorful ground level, filled with alleyway bazaars and corner shops of every want and need, lay far beneath their spearing train car. But even with that much distance between them and the earth, towering buildings still loomed in every direction.

Annabeth could feel the eyes inside the car leave her and instead find themselves fixated on the city that shone at them. That was her favorite part about taking the train; for the length of each ride, she got to see the divine city she'd built through everyone else's eyes.

On its silver rails, the train curved around a skyscraper that emanated a searing glow, courtesy of the flaming spire at its peak. The building's serrated walls poured focused sunlight over the city, powering an entire quadrant of Olympus. A herd of pegasi ripped past the solar tower, whinnying as they circled the bulleting train and dove earthward. The winged horses leveled out on sloping rooftops that slowly opened to reveal public stables below.

Annabeth watched as the filled barns protracted their roofs again, simultaneously kicking open their front entrances. The pegasi's riders, all nymphs and naiads and nature spirits, poured from the equine garages into the expansive gardens ahead. A lush arbor sprawled ahead for a hundred yards before splitting off and forming a massive courtyard. Within that forum stood Annabeth's favorite landmark: her mother's hidden temple.

The gardens' trees bowed towards the vintage Parthenon that used to call deep earth its home. Annabeth had excavated nearly half of the hidden city, including its marble entrance and statues and corner bastions, giving them all a new address in the heavenly city above the clouds.

The train car dipped on its rails as it glided past the central landmark's pillars, and Annabeth wore a bright smile as gasps went up from around her. It didn't matter how many times she passed the temple, she would never stop being amazed by its shining beauty. And, of course, it held its spot in her heart as a permanent remembrance of her mother.

As the gardens fell away, the passenger car entered a tunnel built straight through a black skyscraper. The city's outside light vanished all at once, and, for the brief seconds that the train remained in the underpass, Annabeth could see only her reflection in the window. She looked so much like Athena now. The same striking grey eyes, though maybe a little less scary than her mother's. Identical thin smile lines right beside her lips. Even the way her cheekbones had begun to frame her face. If Annabeth's blonde hair was suddenly manifested brunette, the pair might as well have been one in the same. She loved that; even centuries after Athena had faded, the goddess' presence had never truly left her daughter.

The glowing city's light bathed the carriage again as they shot out of the tunnel and onto the final turn of the route. Annabeth leaned a sparing glance at the throne room in the near distance, finding it as unchanged as it'd been for the last two millennia. It still stood as a marble mass with its long staircase leading to inscribed double doors that could comfortably fit Leo's newest kaiju creations.

Leaving the throne room in its rearview, the train finally began to decelerate as it drifted onto the furthest back street of the city: Olympian Row. Annabeth felt a warmth in her chest as the train car passed the first of the twelve homes that stood on the street. It was an ornate, welcoming log cabin, and it belonged to the next Queen of the Gods.

Hestia had been the obvious choice. For millennia, she had confirmed her intention to eternally tend to the hearth, and that devotion was exactly what Annabeth wanted in her successor. She also found it poetic that the only Olympian to ever step down from the council would one day be the one to lead it. The conversation with Hestia had gone about as Annabeth had imagined, which was why she'd had it a week in advance to give the humble goddess several days to deny the mantle. It was only yesterday that Hestia had accepted it, thanking Annabeth for trusting her with the task, and the pair had shared a heartfelt goodbye.

The train came to a stop after moving past half a dozen more homes of varying, thematic design. Seamlessly, the carriage doors melted away, and the railcar announcer's rich voice rang out.

"We've made our stop on Olympian Row! And as always, Lady Annabeth, it has been a pleasure."

Annabeth smiled as she stood from her seat, nodding towards nobody in particular in a silent 'thank you.' The rest of the passengers looked away from Artemis' silver palace and Apollo's shining beach house, electing to watch Annabeth disembark. A few moments after the goddess had stepped off, the train silently slid its doors closed. It returned to its route, accelerating down the rest of Olympian Row, passing Dakota's winery draped in vines and Clarisse's towering citadel and Leo's hulking forge.

The train vanished back towards the main city as Annabeth moved in the opposite direction towards a quaint cottage. In front of the dainty home lay an orderly garden framed with criss-cross wooden fences. A rainbow of flowers populated the yard, surrounding a patio walkway that led to a little front porch. It was there that Annabeth found both of the people she was searching for, the pair leaning over the railing on their elbows, their eyes set on each other. Annabeth stifled a smile as she exaggeratedly cleared her throat.

Both women snapped up in tandem, shoving away from the porch like two teenagers caught sitting too close together. They recovered quickly as Annabeth snickered, the duo making their way down a pair of steps and onto the stone path. When the trio met in the center of the garden, Thalia feigned a curtsy, like she always did when meeting her old friend, and Piper smirked as she shook her head.

"Hi, Annabeth," the Goddess of Love said softly.

Wearing her shining smile, Piper brushed her chocolate hair from her face, and Annabeth found quiet sadness in her iridescent eyes.

"Hey, Piper," she answered, matching her tone while holding her own reassuring smile.

Thalia's eyes shifted between the two before the Goddess of the Sky tightly squeezed her partner's hand. They all knew what was happening today, and Thalia was determined to not let their meeting be marked by sorrow.

"So," she began, her electric blue eyes almost sparking, "did you save the best for last, Annabeth?"

Piper snorted as she sent Thalia a sideways glance.

"Just tying up the loose ends," Annabeth shot back, making her old friend roll her eyes.

Over the past week, Annabeth had been making her rounds regarding the coming transition. She'd shared goodbyes with most of her friends and put into place the necessary plans for the immediate future of Olympus. The latter had been easy, as they'd mainly been administrative tasks, which meant they were just boring and tedious. But the goodbyes were another matter entirely, none having been more difficult than Annabeth's conversation with Hemera.

It had been heartwrenching for Annabeth to speak to her patron for the last time. The Primordial of Day never planned to naturally fade, meaning there was next to no chance Annabeth would ever see her in Chaos' domain, whatever that place may be. An ocean of tears had been shed between the two of them, but they'd shared a beautiful story that spanned millennia, and that would always be enough for them both.

Their conversation had been earlier yesterday, and it left only two more. The first, with Thalia and Piper, was something that Annabeth hoped to be bittersweet. It didn't need to be said that they were forlorn to be apart, but they knew they'd see each other again one day. Still, even that thought was getting too far ahead; they were together now.

"Does it feel weird?" Thalia asked, running a hand along her own forearm, "Knowing that you're going to fade today?"

Annabeth shook her head.

"It actually feels just right. I imagine it more as ascension than fading, like a step in the direction that I'm supposed to be moving in."

As true as that was, Annabeth could still feel a well blurring her vision, reflected by both Thalia and Piper. Still, she held her firm smile as Thalia sniffed.

"You sound ready to get the hell outta here," she joked before her eyes softened, "What are you going to miss most?"

Annabeth's eyes glittered as she considered everything she'd have to leave behind. Naturally, it only led her to one thought.

"What won't I miss?" she breathed before a lump formed in her throat.

Piper caught her gaze, the pair realizing the answer at the same time. The Goddess of Love voiced it for her, finding tears trailing down Annabeth's cheek.

"The empty throne."

Since the rebuild following the Great War, Olympus' throne room had stood unchanged. Several Olympians had willingly faded and been replaced since then, but their number had never shifted: twelve thrones, eleven gods. It was two-thousand years ago that the seats had been first refilled, and Percy Jackson had been meant to be the final member of the council. But, from the moment Annabeth had returned with the news of his fate, his seat had remained empty. There was no part of her that would miss the unfilled throne that had stood beside hers like an untreatable wound.

Piper reached a hand out and cupped Annabeth's cheek, wiping the bottom of her eye. She was tearing up alongside her old friend while Thalia did her best to be composed enough for all of them. She failed, of course, dragging the other two into an embrace and just letting the minutes float by while they held each other.

Thalia was the first to let go, rubbing her eyes roughly and only making their red outline worse.

"When you see him again," she said as Piper and Annabeth turned their attention to her, "tell him we miss him, okay?"

Annabeth nodded repeatedly, smiling as she thumbed the tears from her cheeks.

"Tell them both," Piper added, softly squeezing Thalia's hand.

Annabeth nodded again before clearing her throat as best she could. She knew how much Jason had meant to them and how important it was that he'd faded while seeking redemption. Percy had passed the same way; they'd both been repenting for things they'd done, but neither had been able to live in the world that their final actions had brought forth. Annabeth hoped to remedy that in the best way she could think of.

"After I'm gone," she said, smiling, "and when you believe they're both ready, I want you to fill the seats and complete the council."

Piper and Thalia's eyes shot wide while Annabeth's hands began to glow. A pair of shining, white daggers appeared balanced in one of her palms. In the other hung the strap bound to Athena's reforged Aegis. She handed her daggers to Thalia and the Aegis to Piper.

"I feel we all know who's getting what," Annabeth said, making them both smile, "but give these to Persephone and Jaye when it's their time to claim the thrones."

Thalia sheathed the blades at her waist while Piper slung the shield over her shoulder.

"Are you sure, Annabeth?" Piper asked, but she couldn't stop beaming at the thought of both of her daughters joining the council.

"I'm certain."

Thalia grinned, wiping the last of the wetness from beneath her eyes.

"Artemis is gonna love this," she chortled, "we'll outnumber the boys eight to four now."

The trio shared a laugh before a silence blanketed them. But words were still being exchanged, even without volume to carry them.

I'm going to miss you.

I'll miss you just as well.

We'll see you again.

Hopefully not too soon.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

The three had wrapped into an embrace before any of them consciously had had the thought to. There was no anguish– no frowns or stinging eyes or flowing tears, just a silent goodbye with a promise that this wasn't the end.

They untangled themselves from each other some moments later. Annabeth wore a small smile as she regarded her old friends, the pair each wrapping an arm around the other's waist.

"Could you have Jaye and Persephone meet me on the beach?"

Thalia and Piper nodded silently, smiling as Annabeth vanished in a flash of light.

(Line Break)

"Do you think she has something for us?" Percy asked as she booted a smooth pebble into the ocean.

"She always does," Jaye answered, shrugging off the sparse sand that'd launched up with the stone.

The twin sisters continued their walk down the coast of Long Island Sound. The beachfront was abnormally quiet, informally cordoned off following the events of the afternoon's meeting. Still, Jaye's sharp eyes were pointed skyward in search of any mutinous campers trying to sneak their way into an audience with the Queen of the Gods. She sensed nobody, which wasn't surprising given Percy's reputation.

The raven-haired huntress was plucking at her bowstring, still itching to fire blunt-tipped arrows at any unfortunate campers who hadn't heeded Nico's warning. Dejectedly, Percy resigned that anyone was coming, instead slinging her bow across her torso and returning her attention to the pebbles littering the beach. She kicked up another cloud of grain as a second rock scorched towards the dim horizon.

"Stop it."

Jaye brushed her shoulder clean while shooting her sister a glare.

"Or what?" Percy scoffed, shifting targets and lining her leg up behind a mound of sand.

With a tap on her wrist, a black shield erupted around Jaye's forearm. The face arced with lightning that danced between razor spikes encircling the dark aegis. Percy's eyes narrowed before she drew a pair of silver hunting knives, her figure hunching as Jaye took a prowling step forward.

"You started this," Percy warned, pointing at the sparking shield with one of her blades, "when I finish it, don't go crying one of your reports to Nana."

Jaye paused, her slitted eyes softening and her arms drifting to her sides. As she straightened herself up, the huntress' shield curled itself back into a thin bracelet on her wrist. Percy had mirrored her, twin knives already back in their sheaths and the same quiet melancholy filling her eyes.

"Shut up," Jaye said quietly, resuming her walk down the beach.

"You shut up," Percy answered, softly bumping her sister's shoulder as she fell into lockstep.

Nana, the closest either had been able to get to Annabeth when they were barely toddlers, was leaving today. The twins had known for a week now, but the weight of the idea had only just settled in. In mutual silence, Percy and Jaye agreed that they wouldn't let their last meeting with their aunt be impeded by one of their constant petty skirmishes.

The duo didn't have to walk much further before a blonde figure made itself known in the distance, her hair glinting beneath early moonlight. Annabeth was sitting with her legs crossed in the sand, her eyes closed and hands folded in her lap. The small smile the goddess wore grew into a grin as Percy shouted.

"Nana!"

The huntress tore into a sprint, cleaving the distance between them in a handful of seconds with Jaye jogging just moments behind. Not a grain of sand was displaced as both silent-footed girls (at least when they wanted to be) stopped before Annabeth, who gestured for them to sit down on either side of her.

"Hey, you two," she said warmly as Percy found a seat to her right and Jaye to her left.

"Hi, Nana," Jaye said, leaning her head against her aunt's shoulder and closing her eyes.

Annabeth's left hand drifted to Jaye's face, the goddess' palm glowing softly while her thumb traced small circles on her cheek. Percy yawned, exaggeratedly stretching before laying her head in Annabeth's lap.

"Nana," she began while the goddess looked down at her amusedly, "why are we meeting out here? If– if it's really the last time we're ever going to get to see you… why here? At Camp?"

Annabeth chuckled at the open distaste in Percy's voice. The goddess let the question hang in silence for a minute while she stared off into the sea, watching the breath of the night's tides. When Annabeth looked down again, she found the huntress still staring up at her intently.

"I never really considered this place as part of camp," the goddess finally answered, "this is where we used to come to get away from it, actually."

"We?"

"Nana and the actual Percy," Jaye murmured, only half-opening her eyes to answer her sister's question.

With her other hand, Annabeth wiped the irritated expression from the face in her lap, hiding her own smirk in the process.

"Stop it, Jaye. My Percy," the goddess corrected, "this was our little getaway. Before he had to go. Or no, it was well before even the Great War."

Annabeth had to pause for a moment, a somber current washing over her as she considered how long it'd been since she'd sat here with him. A touch on the goddess' arm ushered her out of her thoughts.

"Is that why you're leaving? So you can see him again?" Percy questioned, brushing her fingers down Annabeth's forearm.

"Partially yes," Annabeth admitted, "but I also believe that I have done my part here."

Jaye raised her head slightly.

"How do you know?"

"I don't have an explainable answer for anyone. It's a feeling, and it's the same one my mother had. The same one all of the Old Gods had before they passed. Now, it is my turn."

Annabeth could tell that the girls were more upset than they were letting on. It broke her heart feeling them press closer to her while still holding their firm expressions. The goddess let Hemera's power flow out of her like a torrent, wrapping both huntresses in its transcendent warmth. Their shoulders unknotted of their tension, and Annabeth couldn't help but think that this must have been what Hemera saw using the primordial power on the former demigod.

"I've already told your mothers the same," the goddess continued, "but this isn't the last time we'll meet."

Both Jaye and Percy sat upright, turning to face their aunt wearing mirrored confusion.

"We're not gods," Jaye said carefully, "We don't get to fade; we'll just be hunters forever unless we die in battle."

"Which we won't," Percy added, and the sisters high-fived without looking at each other.

Annabeth couldn't help but laugh at that. She took a moment to compose herself before a glint shone in her eyes.

"You're not gods, yet."

The twins' eyes shot wide, but before they could say anything, Annabeth cut them off.

"Why do you think you're here? At Camp?" she asked, playfully mimicking Percy's disgust.

Neither girl had an answer.

"It's because this is where you learn how to lead. How to connect with people." Annabeth's voice had taken on a serious tone. "You two have each other and your sisters in the Hunt, but the demigods here fear you. Persephone, you treat them like playthings. Jaye, you look down your nose at them as if they're lesser. Feared is a dangerous quality for a god."

The sisters hung their heads in tandem. Annabeth let them sit for a minute before she lifted their chins and had them meet her eyes. The goddess spoke softly.

"Both of you are capable of incredible things." She chuckled. "It's uncanny how much of the best parts of your namesakes live within you both. But, like them, you have your own difficulties to overcome if you want to reach the heights you're capable of climbing to. And I have full faith you both will."

Annabeth stood from her seat in the sand, and the girls rose with her. She put a hand on each of their shoulders and closed her eyes, whispering in Ancient Greek. Percy and Jaye translated the words as they came, their eyes growing wider and wider before a blinding explosion of white light forced them shut.

When the brightness faded, the twins tentatively opened their eyes. They both looked down at themselves, holding out their arms and expecting some kind of dramatic transformation, but nothing felt any different. They looked back at Annabeth, who smiled knowingly. Before Percy could voice a question, she froze with her mouth open, her eyes stuck on her aunt. The goddess was shining. Literally shining.

Annabeth's skin was beginning to fragment into prisms of soft light, refracted beneath the glow of the moon.

"That's beautiful," Jaye whispered while Annabeth took note of her own fading form.

Percy found her voice again, and it came out very small.

"You're giving me Day?"

"It's only fitting for someone who can burn so bright," Annabeth answered as her form slowly flickered, "Just promise me you'll also show the world your softer warmth."

Percy wrapped Annabeth in an iron embrace, nodding profusely as she sobbed into her shoulder, holding the goddess as long as the world would let her. Jaye silently locked her arms around Annabeth's neck, sharply sniffing as she buried her head against her aunt's chest.

"Light must always be pure and unwavering, Jaye. It's all anyone has against darkness, and I know you can rise to that responsibility."

The huntress nodded once before she squared her shoulders and stepped away from the goddess. Her eyes welled as she put a hand on her sister's back, who tensed before her arms melted through Annabeth. The twins stood together, holding each other while tears fell from the corners of Annabeth's eyes.

"You'll receive my domains when your mothers know you're ready. I'll see you two again someday, after you've left your marks here." Annabeth swallowed the lump in her throat as she felt herself become weightless. "Persephone, Jaye, I love you both."

"We love you, too," they choked out as Annabeth's smiling face was swept away with the rest of her shimmering form.

The huntresses stood in silence on the moonlit beach, letting the world become still as it mourned the Queen of the Gods. The tides fell flat, and the wind dulled to less than a whisper as, unbeknownst to most of it, the planet's architect passed on. The only movement on the beach was an invisible, intangible breeze carrying the goddess' essence away, escorting her to the realm that had been holding its breath in wait for her.

(Line Break)

Fading was like waking up from a fleeting dream. Annabeth had been on the beach just a moment ago, the memory perfectly intact, but it felt as if her world had slipped from the grasp of her mind. And physically, the mortal plane had been swept away on all sides, replaced with a silent somewhere that Annabeth didn't yet understand.

She stood in a sweet, dense woodland. Or no, it was a flat meadow. No, a valley of fire. A shallow sea? The scene kept shifting. Continuously, endlessly, impossibly. It was as if a thousand worlds had been superimposed on top of each other, a kaleidoscope of all of nature's forms and colors. Annabeth began to understand what, exactly, she was standing at the center of. When she caught a pair of silver eyes in a moonlit pasture, she knew it for certain.

Selene, Annabeth thought in the fragment of a moment she met the Titaness' gaze.

A flaming body with two burning sockets replaced the slender woman's form, the shape standing in a flaming canyon.

Helios.

The worlds continued to shift like the crests and troughs of waves, constantly writing over each other while Annabeth grabbed momentary glimpses of the deities residing within them.

Pan, Eos, Theia, Pallas…

Annabeth didn't know how she could recognize deities she'd never met, but she could. Still, that wasn't a question she cared to be answered right now. Her heart had begun thrumming in her head as she waited, the worlds still refracting off of each other. She couldn't say what she was waiting for. Just something. A sign, maybe? Waving hands and an accompanying shout to rip through the silence, chanting I'm here, Annabeth! Anything at all that would lead her where she wanted to go.

The worlds kept passing. They climbed atop each other to scramble Annabeth's vision with sights of towering mountains and churning seas and thick forests and blank savannahs. She could see everything all at once, its combined chaos rendering her unable to register anything at all. Meaningless features of endless realms continued their display while a lump formed in Annabeth's throat. The weight of all of the worlds burdened her shoulders as she considered the terrifying possibility that she'd never–

A sloping rooftop.

Annabeth's heart lurched forward as if attached to a tether snapped taut, the breath knocked from her lungs. It had only been a glimpse, but the fragment of the feature had emblazoned itself at the front of her mind. Closing her eyes, Annabeth stepped forward into the endless, shifting disorder with her focus centered on that sloping white line. The domain obeyed.

One after another, the seemingly endless realms peeled away beneath Annabeth's feet. With each step she took, a desert or field or beach or garden folded itself into nothing, paving her way to her destination. Annabeth could hear only the beating of her heart and the hitching of her uneven breath as she continued on with shoulders held back. Finally, after what could have been an eternity, Annabeth felt it. The something.

It came in the form of a whispering breeze, brushing her arms and tracing her face. Then it came as the hoot of an owl, resonant and lilting. Those marked the first sounds Annabeth heard in the domain from anyone but herself. They eased her drumming heart, leveled her breath. Slowly, she opened her eyes.

The sloping rooftop. Behind it, an arc of soaring fir trees. Beneath it, her home. She stood before her drawing brought to life. The curved doorways with their colorful awnings. The paneled sunroom currently settling for moonlight. And the porch.

Annabeth's eyes blurred with tears as they settled on the front porch. On it sat two chairs side by side, their cushions so smooth that they'd certainly never been used. And from above those two chairs shined a light that bathed the porch in a warm orange. Annabeth was moving towards it through no conscious command of her own, a hopeful moth to a beckoning flame. Then the light cut off, and Annabeth froze.

Not even a moment passed before the front door swung open, and her dream stepped into the doorway. He looked exactly as he had all those years ago, and somehow, Annabeth knew she did too. In this perfect world, from the instant they locked eyes, it could be as if they'd never lost each other, picking up from the moment they'd been forced apart.

The distance between them fell to a single step, and Annabeth was in his arms and Percy in hers. She buried her head in his neck and wrapped him like she'd never let go again. He lifted her from the foot of the porch, shaking as he sobbed into her chest. Neither could speak as they held each other, feeling the weight of their millennia adrift evaporate from their weary shoulders. Annabeth could barely draw a breath, choking on all the love she'd been waiting to give him all this time. From the heave in Percy's chest against her, she could tell he was suffering from the same, beautiful affliction.

Before she knew it, she was kissing him. Her hands found his face and her lips touched his, and the world became as it should be. Percy tightened his arms around her back as he leaned into her, uncaring of the thought of breathing. It took no exchange of words for them both to know they would have withstood it forever. But, together, they pulled apart.

Percy lowered her feet to the soft earth, but he didn't relent his grasp. Annabeth remained pressed against him, her thumbs tracing his cheekbones as she stared up into his shining eyes. They pooled their devotion like they always did. Incessantly, all because they'd landed on her.

Annabeth couldn't blink back the tears seeping from the sides of her eyes. It had all led to this. Two thousand years she'd spent building a world for everyone, and the entire time, the other piece of her soul had been waiting in the one he'd built just for her. Annabeth ventured another glance at their home. All of it was exactly how she'd imagined.

Percy noticed as she returned her eyes to him, his lips shifting to hold his lopsided grin. Annabeth's heart sputtered like it had the first time she'd seen it, and she couldn't help but reply with her own smile. He froze for a moment, stuck on her, before his eyes regained their playful glint.

"Told you I could handle it, Wise Girl."

Annabeth wanted to smirk and shoot back. A monkey could have done it in two-thousand years, Seaweed Brain. It would have been her standard answer. She tried, but she couldn't form those words. She could only speak their translation.

"I love you, Percy."

Percy shut his streaming eyes and pulled her off of her feet into another embrace. Annabeth let herself melt into him, her legs tucked against his back. As he carried her through the doorway of their home, a new warmth seemed to fill them both. It wrapped them gently, quietly spreading through every room and slipping outside as Percy closed the door with a soft touch.

The feeling blanketed their little world. It swayed with the lofty trees and warbled with the hooting owls. It danced with the gentle breeze and glowed with the shining moon. It completed their haven, promising the eternity that they deserved to spend together.

One by one, the few lights went out in the house with the sloping roof. Percy and Annabeth drifted into a deep sleep, holding each other beneath an open skylight. And above them, in the endless expanse dotted with sparkling stars, the cosmos shifted with an exhale, sighing in an inaudible whisper, Finally.

A/N: It's me. I'm Chaos here breathing the deepest sigh of relief that they got their happy ending. I can't believe I put them through what I did, and it would have been unforgivable to not give them the soft epilogue they deserve. Anyways, thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed it even just a fraction as much as I enjoyed writing it. It's been a while since an update, and I wanted to let you all know that I think I'll start writing again in January (?). My next story will be an AU version of the og series with Percy running away from home at age 10 and coming across Annabeth, Thalia, and Luke. The ages will be a little different, with the trio being 10, 12-13, and 14 respectively. Also it'll be Perlia, which I think will be fun to try out because I don't know if I've ever seen it done super well. Anyways, that's all. I seriously hope you enjoyed this story and consider reviewing. Feels great to say that this story is officially complete :)