Chapter 19: Ascension
Minutes Earlier
Percy gritted his teeth as his back tore straight through the building behind him. He came out the other side in an eruption of marble fragmented against his serrated armor. Not spinning to catch himself, the demigod remained fixated on the monster who'd struck him.
Oryx's gaping maw chittered as the hulking creature tore after Percy. He lowered his head, the curved horns of his skull leading the charge, and ripped apart the entire building in pursuit. Percy's legs struck the street, leaving a crater as he landed, and a shotgun materialized in his grasp.
Closing the gap an instant later, Oryx lashed out with a massive clawed hand only to catch a buckshot of bronze bullets. The towering monster didn't have the chance to continue his swing before the weapon exploded again, burying a shower of pellets into his chest, then again into his stomach. Black blood poured from his body, but Oryx unleashed a screech and charged again. The shotgun's deafening eruptions added to the cacophony of war blanketing the city, but the monster didn't slow.
Percy bounded skyward as Oryx struck down with both arms, talons ripping open a crevice in the street, and the shotgun in the demigod's hands shifted to a golden trident. Millions of gallons of water across Olympus responded when Percy raised the weapon. Five thick streams of the five hellish rivers exploded into the air and coalesced as a heaving tendril that bore down on the pair.
Submerging himself in the rocketing rivers for a fraction of a moment, Percy willed only the Phlegethon towards him. He drank deeply, gulping a disgusting heap of the broiled water, before shoving out of the cursed barrage. The hissing singe of Percy's armor as he escaped the tendril was lost under Oryx's screaming as the rivers entrapped him.
In his moment of solace atop the debris he'd landed on, Percy tried to silence the throbbing in his skull. His entire form shook from the dozens of blows Oryx had landed on him, the strikes denting his armor, fracturing his bones, shattering an entire quadrant of the city with his body. Percy had seen the monster grow larger during his escape from Tartarus, but he hadn't understood the increase in power until now.
Riptide didn't cleave through him as easily as it'd used to. Oryx's mottled armor seemed to have hardened tenfold, his scaly forearms acting almost as shields against the edge of the demigod's cursed blade. Still, spindly orange cracks had crawled their way across the monster's arms, but the shallow wounds hadn't impeded his vengeful fury. Percy could barely dwell on Oryx's soul being slowly reaped because the demigod's focus was fully centered on the monster's corrosive acid.
The venom that had already claimed the lives of dozens of demigods and far more monsters had no limit to its caustic ability. Oryx had shot tides of it at Percy throughout their duel spanning half the blood-red city, and the demigod was horrified at its effects. He'd evaded nearly all of the liquid that ate through entire buildings, but sparse drops had clawed their way onto his gothic armor. And at those points of impact, Percy now saw only his exposed skin; the acid had left open gashes across the demigod's protective casing.
Both his gauntlets and greaves held thin fissures emptied of their hellish metal, granting chinks of access to any opponent striking the demigod's body. Percy's greatest concern was that the cursed rivers were no exception.
An unbearable strain addled his mind as he maintained his grasp on the thrashing torrent of water. Oryx bucked within the liquid prison, the monster's vicious slashes delivering huge waves all over the surrounding courtyard. Percy ignored the soreness in his legs as he bounded over the coming tide, avoiding its indiscriminate wrath. The rivers writhed in a massive sphere around Oryx, a cursed fish tank containing a demonic exhibit, but the water was ebbing as Percy reached the limits of his exhaustion.
The demigod thrust his arms forward, tensing them to the point of numbness, and brought his palms closer together. The pressure within the sphere burgeoned, squeezing the monster trapped inside, as Percy waited in a silent desperation for a decisive crack signaling the crushing of his skeletal frame.
Percy's chest suddenly heaved as his vision exploded with stars. His arms fell as his body tipped forward, his legs crumbling beneath him. The throbbing in the demigod's skull pushed Oryx's piercing shriek to the back of his mind, and, forced to his knees, Percy had to fight to remain conscious. He could barely see the sphere of the rivers fade and wash away in every direction.
Oryx roughly landed just yards from the demigod, catching his fall on withering talons. The rivers had eroded his armor, softening his hellish shell, and the cracks of orange had spread up to his shoulders. But the deep rage emblazoned in the creature's blue eyes held no sign of a waning soul. Percy couldn't even raise his arms to stop the screeching freight train before a clawed hand wrapped him and launched him from the earth.
The demigod flew as a ragdoll, a limp shape of fading black armor rocketing over the ruins of the divine acropolis. By some amount of sheer luck, or misfortune, his body struck a belltower. A deafening ring knocked Percy back to his senses, wrenching him into his harsh reality: a broken body caught against the only upright structure for a hundred yards in any direction.
The building began to crumble, but Percy's focus wasn't on dislodging himself from the fractured marble. Closing in was the dark shape of Oryx rearing back his bubbling maw. With a hissing release, a tendril of acidic bile erupted from the monster's throat towards the battered demigod.
While Percy's eyes peeled back and his entire body trembled from its continued exertion, he made a choice that all but guaranteed his death. It seemed unavoidable regardless; if the acid found its way into Percy's cracked armor, there was no doubt that he'd meet his end one dissolving limb at a time. But this way, Percy might take out both himself and his hellish opponent. The demigod thrust his arms forward, calling to his element for what could very well be the last time, his mind fixated on one river in particular.
The Styx exploded in a tsunami as it crested over the crippled tower, eviscerating it to scraps that sank into the River of Hatred. The collapsing wave swallowed everything in its path, including the demigod commanding it. The black, churning water washed over Percy, an unstoppable torrent that instantly flooded into the chinks of his armor. A guttural shout tore out of his throat as the cursed river gripped his vulnerable form. But the roar silenced itself seconds later when his enveloped body fell limp, and his vision faded to black. Even without the demigod's control, the thrashing tide continued its course, sweeping up both Oryx and the monster's viscous poison.
(Line Break)
Percy's eyes slowly adjusted to the dim lens he found superimposed over his vision. The world around him, where a war raged, was a silent wasteland. Haze blanketed the acropolis, but it looked grey through Percy's eyes. Everything did. The streets formerly separated by rows of buildings had melded together into an arc of rubble and dust and bodies. The infirmary guarded by triremes stood far behind Percy, the warmth of its hearth seemingly a world away.
Ahead, past the ruins of Olympus, Percy saw the back of the demigod divisions. They'd fought their way to the plaza leading to the throne room, shoving back the monstrous tide that was trapped between them and the raging primordials dueling on the divine steps. Explosions of lightning ripped across the sky, and Percy caught glimpses of Annabeth's wings as she traded strikes with Zeus. Yet, with all of the violence Percy could see before him, he heard nothing.
Everything was grey and silent and wrong. The red sky wasn't red. The deafening war wasn't deafening. And the armored demigod wore no armor. Confusion flooded Percy's mind, only made worse when he realized he was in no pain. He looked down at himself dressed in his old Camp Half-Blood shirt and jeans, and not a single wound marred the body that'd been so badly battered in his duel. Something shifted in his greyscale field of vision: his own limp, armored body drifting past.
"You deserve to die."
Percy spun towards the voice, a chill sluicing through his nerves. But when he tried to call for his sword, nothing came. Empty-handed, the apprehensive demigod came face to face with a woman he'd never met before, though he recognized her in an instant. Her obsidian eyes glowered with their disgust, and an upturned lip silently held her disappointment.
"Lady Styx," Percy whispered, his own voice as muffled as the goddess'.
Quickly, the demigod realized that he'd been brought out of his body for an audience with the goddess. He'd bathed in the Styx before, and the river's patron obviously hadn't forgotten that. She regarded him with a loathsome expression, her purple and black dress billowing in what Percy realized was the river itself. On queue, Oryx ripped past them with a silent shriek, his body closely followed by a thick ball of what must have been his poison.
"You deserve to die," Styx's smothered voice echoed again.
Percy opened his mouth to question the goddess, to deny her words, but his body suddenly lurched. Around them, the Styx shot forward as a precise riptide that bent and bounded over the crawling bodies littering the city. As they drew closer to the silent war raging near the throne room, Percy realized that the goddess was addressing the words he hadn't spoken yet.
"Do you understand how many demigods you have killed in this war?"
Styx's voice rang harshly in Percy's mind as he watched the river arc around a terrified drove of demigods, most on stretchers being carried to the infirmary. The soldiers continued their march wearing bewildered expressions towards the river that'd slipped past without touching them.
"How many of the wounded you had me wash over and eviscerate, their wills far too weak to bear my river?!"
Percy gritted his teeth, but he had no answer. He'd been a blind weapon for most of the war, fixated on the vengeful task of killing Oryx, killing Tartarus, killing everything that stood in the way. The river had swept through who it'd swept through, and Percy hadn't given it a single thought. He remembered Annabeth shouting for him to call for the Phlegethon, granting strength to the demigods, but he'd done it for her. A wave washed over Percy, one of self-loathing, and he knew he couldn't blame the fog of war. Styx knew the same.
"You killed demigods. You killed your own father. And you expect to survive this war? You? Even when the ones truly making amends will not?"
The goddess commanded the coursing river to a halt, wrenching Percy from his thoughts. They'd arrived behind the demigod armada. At that moment, a black bolt of lightning tore down from the sky, eviscerating the frontline of armored soldiers to nothing. Percy watched as both Frank and Reyna vanished in an instant, both Praetors of New Rome erased from the earth. He stumbled back, his chest coiling while a visceral lurch built in his throat.
"You will never find redemption," the goddess hissed.
Percy's eyes hardened, the ice in his body slowly melting as he remembered the conversation he'd had with Hemera before the battle.
"Hemera believes that I can."
His voice came out as a whisper, a muffled prayer that wouldn't hold weight in a dream. Styx sneered at the demigod who couldn't even muster the conviction to defend his own existence.
"Good. You don't believe her either."
A sudden explosion rocked the entire plaza, the ground shaking, but the entire world remained silent from within the River Styx. Both goddess and demigod craned their necks to find Annabeth with her arm locked around Zeus' neck, a gaping wound torn through the Olympian's side, as the pair rose skyward.
Styx's indignance melted away. The goddess held a small smile as she traced the winged blur ripping through the few buildings still standing near the plaza. Percy's gaze poured adoration as it followed Annabeth's striking form. Even through the river's desolate grey, he could only see her as the sky's most brilliant star.
The goddess' curdled expression returned as she shifted her attention back to Percy, finding him still transfixed on the winged demigod.
"She deserves far more than the thing you've become."
Percy's head snapped towards the river goddess, but he couldn't hold his glare against the same sentiment that churned in his own mind. Styx seemed to read his thoughts from the anguish written on his face, her own expression momentarily holding surprise.
"Go," she spat, waving her hand over Percy, "Die with honor. And remove this abhorrent poison from my domain."
The demigod's eyes rolled back in his head. A burning pain wrapped him, an eruption across every nerve in his body, as his memories with Annabeth rocketed through his mind like an endless torrent. The blinding pain centered on his nape, a throbbing at the base of his neck, before his vision exploded with white.
(Line Break)
Percy's eyes snapped open, the demigod plunged into a black river that washed across him and flipped his body onto solid ground. The echoes of battle erupted in his ears alongside the roar of the tide surrounding him. Oryx screeched, and Percy whipped towards the sound to find the monster bucking through the ravaging Styx, nearing him. The demigod didn't even stop to consider the river no longer entrenching him with endless pain.
A golden trident materialized in Percy's hand, and he thrust the weapon forward. His other hand balled into a fist, tightening like a vice, as it pulled towards him. The water obeyed. Rushing away like a tsunami, the Styx exploded back into the rubbled city, but its shape twisted around the sparse bodies littering the streets. The river poured into the fissures torn open across Olympus, returning to its home in the Underworld, followed closely by a coalescing wave of its companions.
Oryx crashed against the street emptied of water, the monster whittled to a shell of his former self. One of his arms was missing completely, and the other had eroded to a crippled limb barely holding him upright. Wheezing through breaths, Oryx found Percy's other hand still balled into a fist. Apprehension visibly swept through the monster when he looked up to find a floating wall of his own venom.
After failing over and over in the Pit, Percy had done it. He'd sheared the viscous acid from the river, wrenching control over the hellish liquid as he did any other source. Oryx chittered beneath it, but Percy caught the monster's legs tensing. He shoved his fist down, and the venom ripped into the creature as it bounded forward.
Percy cringed at the sizzling of the acid against its master's armor, the shearing only made more raucous by Oryx's screech joining the orchestra. The nearest demigods turned to find the towering creature falling to its knees as Percy roared and charged forward. He leapt straight into the acid dripping from Oryx's melting body, manifesting Riptide in his hands, and plunged it deep into the monster's chest.
Oryx unleashed a final cry as an eruption of orange cracks spidered in every direction, swallowing the demonic creature's body before he vanished into nothing. The acid coating Percy's form forced metallic shrieks from his armor. Stumbling back from the pool at his feet, the demigod used his newly uncovered arms to wrench the corroding metal from his back.
His armor struck the ground at the center of the acidic puddle, lying where Oryx's body had, and the hellish metal dissolved into nothing. More of the venom harmlessly rolled off of Percy's exposed arms and legs, but the demigod took control over any of it crawling towards his clothes or, most importantly, his nape. The Styx had granted him its curse a second time.
Percy felt the waves of exhaustion still wrapping him, remembering the draining effects of the curse on its bearer. The demigod pushed away the pain as he willed the pool of acid into a crevice, condemning it to the hell of its dead master. For a moment, he believed he'd get a chance to rest, to recover from his battle, but Tartarus' laughter suddenly ripped across Olympus.
Hemera's severed forearm struck the ground, and the entire plaza seemed to freeze. But even that silence lasted a matter of seconds before the primordials rocketed up the stairs, exploding through the doors that led to the throne room.
"Hemera!"
Percy's head snapped towards Annabeth's horrified shout, every hair on his body standing on end. The blur of her armored form was slicing through the sky towards the throne room, but Percy's focus immediately trained on a rooftop behind her. Shuddering violently, a bloodied and fading Zeus knelt on it, and Percy relished in the agony etched onto the prideful king's face. But the feeling vanished when a garbled roar erupted from the Olympian, and he launched his cursed Master Bolt in an arc destined to pierce Annabeth's back.
Percy's legs tensed, ready to bound skyward and catch the careening projectile in midair. But he froze for a single, essential, fraction of a second; an eruption of wind had torn from the far side of the plaza, carrying its patron. Jason rocketed from the bulk of the demigod army as he moved like a strike of lightning towards Annabeth. Percy's vision tunneled, the entire world falling away as the surrounding haze deepened to scalding red.
His body left the ground, exploding from shattered marble, and Percy roared as he ripped through the air with the sole intent of killing the gods of the sky. The city blew past him as he emanated unbridled rage, its aura still palpable without the suit of armor he'd destroyed. But through his blinding anger, terror suddenly latched him like a vice when he realized he wouldn't reach anything or anyone in time.
The lightning bolt was a rocket tearing through the sky, a missile honed on Annabeth, and Jason was rising far too fast from right beneath her. They were going to kill her, finishing the job that had driven Percy to becoming everything he'd become, and he was a midair shape far too slow to save the only thing that still mattered. Sheer helplessness choked him as he tore through the sky.
"ANNABETH!"
The shout was deafening, and thunder erupted from the clouds in tandem; the voice wasn't Percy's. The demigod watched wide-eyed as Jason thrust his hands forward, just yards behind Annabeth, and wrench them wildly to his right side. A heaving blow of wind struck her wings, knocking the demigod off-course at the entrance to the throne room. Annabeth barreled into the far end of the broken double doors, and she never got the chance to turn towards her attacker.
An earth-shaking explosion wrapped the world in a flash of black, and its force knocked both Annabeth and Percy flat against solid ground. When the light dimmed, the haze blanketing the stairs had vanished, washed away by an exodus of wind. The world came back into focus as Percy clawed upright. He took his final shuddering steps to the top of the stairway, finding Jason lying flat with a gaping hole in his chest.
The son of Jupiter's gaze was delirious, his hands sparking sporadically as his legs weakly kicked. Percy stood over him, hatred emblazoned in his eyes and Riptide in his hands, but his fury faltered. He'd saved her.
Annabeth appeared beside them moments later, sliding to her knees as her helm melted from her face. The demigod's expression held only horror as she hushed Jason, the young god's vision sharpening on her. His lips moved weakly, trying to form words, but Annabeth shook her head while doing what she could to make him comfortable. Somehow finding an ounce of strength, Jason grabbed one of her arms.
"I'm sorry, Annabeth."
A piercing ring filled Percy's ears. Jason's expression held unbearable agony, the hole in his body burning as orange cracks spread over the rest of his form. And still, he was apologizing with the few moments left in his life. Percy knelt next to the pair as Jason's grip failed him. The young god's hand drifted as it fell, leaving a lone finger pointing limply towards Annabeth's dagger.
"Please," he whispered.
Both demigods understood at once. Annabeth raised the blade over the dying god, tears seeping from her eyes and her arms shaking. She took a deep breath, steeling herself, before Percy softly pried the dagger from her hands. Annabeth released it silently, sharing a glance with him, and finding a grimace on Percy's face. With a single stab, the white blade entered Jason's stomach, and the result was instant. The cracks of his body spidered silver, and serenity washed over his face. Silently, holding a tearful smile, he dissolved into wisps of smoke.
Annabeth wrenched her blade from Percy's hands and shoved upright. Her second dagger appeared as she whirled towards Zeus, finding the god a horrified statue staring back from his rooftop. Annabeth's helm had returned, and it glowed dangerously bright in the direction of the Olympian on the verge of death. Her entire body shook, and Percy stood beside her just as ready to send the King of the Gods over the edge.
A sudden collision of sparks erupted from behind them, and Annabeth grabbed Percy's shoulder, shoving down her grief.
"He's already dead, even if he hasn't accepted it yet."
Percy clenched his jaw as the pair of demigods shifted away, barrelling into the shaking throne room. Tartarus was mid-swing, one of his sickles locked around Hemera's sword and the other rocketing towards her side. Annabeth whipped her wings, tearing far ahead of Percy, and caught the curved blade on her own sword. Hemera shoved forward, dislodging her weapon and dropping her shoulder into Tartarus' chest.
Annabeth stumbled back, her arms vibrating from the impact of holding the primordial for even the moment she had. Tartarus swung again, arcing both blades down at Hemera's head. The glowing primordial parried only one, struggling horribly with fighting single-armed. Percy had caught up to the battle, deflecting the second on Riptide.
In an instant, Tartarus' whirlpool face trained on his former champion and unleashed its rage. He kicked Hemera away and slashed Percy with the freed sickle. The son of Poseidon flattened a crater into the floor, dropping his blade, and Tartarus froze. His massive sickle had cracked down the center, its metal fissured from the impact against the invulnerable demigod.
The malevolent primordial inspected it for a moment before releasing a devastating laugh.
"An inconsequential mistake that Styx will pay for," the monster mused, "You are minutes from losing consciousness. Once these two are dead, I will drag my blades over every inch of your body and find your mortal point."
Percy shoved upright while Hemera closed in. The primordials clashed in a shower of sparks, but Tartarus' leg moved like lightning. He launched a devastating kick to Percy's chest, lifting him from the floor and rocketing him across the throne room. The demigod's body struck Zeus' throne, and chunks of it crumbled freely.
Delirious, Percy only loosely understood that the standing throne meant the King of the Gods hadn't faded yet. But the realization meant nothing; the demigod's body refused to respond. He watched through blurred vision as two massive beings clashed and a white, glowing gnat circled them with flurries of strikes. Tartarus' raucous voice echoed from the battle.
"It was always going to end this way!"
His sickle pierced Hemera's leg, cutting a thin gash to her knee. More orange cracks spread over the glowing primordial. Annabeth dipped back, her blade catching a strike from a heaving sickle. Another cut appeared on Hemera, sliced across her stomach, and another laugh erupted.
"The prophecy has failed!" Tartarus roared, "You freed me for nothing, Hemera!"
Percy's vision throbbed until Annabeth's midair shape froze, and his eyes sharpened when she shouted his name. The floating demigod had dematerialized her helm, her expression one of abject shock, but Percy knew that meant she'd figured something out.
"The prophecy!" she yelled, pointing at the crumbling throne behind him, "Take the mantle!"
Pieces of Zeus' seat of power continued to fall as the last lines of the prophecy echoed through Percy's mind.
The Eclipse ends only through kingly whim,
Tartarus roared as he clawed at Annabeth's form. Hemera stepped between them in a blur of light, catching his sharp talons against her dented chestplate. They dug into her glowing armor, and the metal's piercing shear forced a burst of adrenaline through Percy. He spun at the base of the throne, his hands breaking their own holds into the seat as he climbed. Rocks continued to fall as sparks flew behind him, but Percy continued his ascension, his hammering heart echoing through his entire body. As he flung himself over the top, he braced himself.
But should the mantle have fallen to him?
An explosion rocked the throne room, shaking all of its occupants. The force was coupled with two distinct roars; Percy shouted from the suddenly incinerating throne, and a faraway thunderous boom held its own rising amplitude. The sky above grew darker as the haze deepened, and ceaseless spiders of lightning ripped across the sky.
"MINE!"
The garbled voice echoed from outside, the dying qualms of the throne's owner. Percy's shout grew louder as a deep scent of ozone permeated the colossal room. The seat was rejecting him, denying access to a foreign power, and Percy couldn't even think through the crippling pain ripping through his abdomen. The Styx's curse kept him alive, kept him suffering, but the crushing burden was working its way up from the source.
Tartarus gnashed his teeth, his face returned to its repugnant features, and clawed towards Percy. Hemera intercepted him, slashing her blade in a wide arc and forcing him back. The demigod felt his entire body going numb as the pain reached his chest, inching towards his shoulders. He knew his resolve would crumble the moment it reached his nape, cleaving away his invulnerability.
The thunderous roar grew nearer, and all eyes snapped toward the shadow at the entrance to the throne room. Zeus crawled forward, his entire body cracked, his eyes maddened. The King of the Gods was beyond withered, but he slunk forward through sheer pride.
"That is mine," he wheezed, ichor pouring from his unhinged maw.
Percy locked eyes with Zeus, whose body suddenly stiffened. Percy's did the same, and he felt a rapture erupt within him threatening to tear him in two. It had become a contest of wills, a dying god and demigod, both angry, both jaded, both waning. Percy's eyes grew heavy, the pain erupting in his shoulders and arms. Zeus' entire form began to shake, his teeth gnashing while he strained to move on his hands and knees.
Sparks flew from between Hemera and Tartarus, but Percy's vision tunneled on the King of the Gods. The demigod's invulnerable body began to crack. He felt unbreakable bones break, his heart all but burst, his soul set on fire. Zeus released a feral roar, and Percy echoed it. The pair held it for just seconds before a deafening thunderclap exploded overhead.
The throne room fell still, four bodies upright and one slumping forward. The only sound in the area was a gurgling whimper as Zeus' body hit the floor. The King of the Gods vanished into a mound of black dust, and the clouds above fell dark. All remaining eyes turned towards Percy, whose own had rolled back. But nobody was looking at his face, the room instead frozen as they found the Master Bolt sparking in his hand.
Percy jerked upright, clawing for air as he breathed in, and the Primordial of the Pit unfroze. Tartarus ripped towards him, hatred emblazoned across his glowing eyes and bared maw as he slashed with both sickles. But Percy was faster, his expression far more loathsome. The cursed bolt of lightning exploded from his grasp as he flung it with all of the remaining strength he could muster.
A black flash blinded the room, accompanied by a shattering explosion, and the Master Bolt lashed as a beam of orange directly into Tartarus' chest. The primordial stood convulsing for a fraction of a moment, more than enough time for his original enemy. Hemera had already appeared behind him, and the Primordial of Day thrust her sword deep into his back, the glowing white tip erupting from the monster's stomach.
Tartarus groaned as he clawed forward, his form emanating rage, but Annabeth whipped her wings from his side, unleashing an explosive wall of wind that knocked his legs out from beneath him. The Master Bolt continued to unleash its cursed tendril of lightning as Hemera twisted her blade before wrenching it out. As Tartarus fell with a gurgled shout, choking on his own ichor, Percy tipped from his throne.
The light of the Master Bolt died all at once as the weapon dematerialized, replaced by a black glaive. Percy gritted his teeth as he brought his hell-blessed weapon down like a guillotine on Tartarus' neck. They struck the marble floor in unison, the pair forced into mutual silence. Percy lay limp beside a beheaded Primordial of the Pit, the hulking body only tangible for moments longer before eviscerating in an orange flash.
"Percy!"
Annabeth appeared next to his body in an instant, her helm already off. Openly sobbing, she shifted his head into her lap as she looked down at him. Percy's entire body was broken, hemorrhaging from within regardless of any blessing of invulnerability. But somehow, through an impossible force of will, his dim eyes opened. His head lolled back, but there was no need to move it when he was already staring up at all he needed to see.
"Hey, Annabeth."
His voice was barely a murmur, and Annabeth choked back her sobs as she lowered her head to listen.
"Please don't talk," she whispered back, trying and failing to keep her voice level, "You can't die. You promised."
The desperation in her voice made Percy's heart ache far worse than any pain had on the throne. Tears leaked from the sides of his eyes, drifting from his face to Annabeth's greaves. He groaned weakly, his fingers shaking, and Annabeth understood. She softly grasped his hand in hers, raising it against her cheek. Percy held a small smile as he did what little he could to thumb her tears away. His next words would hurt her far worse than they would him, so he took a moment to rememorize her face how it was now. Crying, yes, but still beautiful, still hopeful.
"I deserve this, Annabeth," he whispered, his eyes dimming, "This whole war ends with a better Olympus. What I am now can't exist there. It can't exist with you."
Annabeth's chest heaved, her expression horrified, and she tightened her grip on Percy. Her eyes unfocusing, she opened her mouth to say something, say anything, when Hemera fell to her knees. The primordial caught herself on her hand, and Annabeth's head snapped towards her. Before the demigod could move, Hemera shook her head. Sweat beaded the primordial's face as the thin orange cracks continued their crawl across her body.
"Hemera," Annabeth said shakily, her terror whipping between the two people she seemed to be losing at once, "What's going to happen?"
"I-I don't know," Hemera answered uneasily, "But I must speak to Aether if there is to be any chance of not sharing Tartarus' fate."
The primordial's form began to glow before Annabeth's tearful eyes snapped open.
"Wait!" she shouted, a spark of hope reentering the demigod, "Can you take Percy with you?"
Hemera smiled at her knowingly, and Annabeth looked down to find his body already glowing.
"Of course, Annabeth. I promised him I would do everything I could to return him to you."
The glint brightened until Percy's arm shifted, his hand loosely tracing Annabeth's. She looked down at him to find his eyes barely open, but they still stared up at her with their witchlight. Annabeth tightly gripped his hand, leaning in as Percy spoke.
"The prophecy. The mantle." He coughed weakly. "Shouldn't be me."
Annabeth's entire form tensed while a foreign feeling cascaded through it. The rush was euphoric, waves of power sweeping through her, igniting every nerve in her body with what could only be described as shocks of lightning. She realized Percy had inherited the mantle in every aspect of the word, becoming the King of the Gods, and he'd relinquished it to her. Annabeth's adrenaline vanished in an instant when Percy's hand suddenly fell limp and cold, but he held a small smile as he and Hemera dematerialized in a flash of white.
Annabeth sank further onto her knees, her tears falling freely, as she sat alone in the Hall of the Gods. Her heart tightened like a spring, its ache dulling the power she'd felt moments ago while ascending to godhood. The blanketing haze slowly settled around her, returning to the room after being washed away during the final confrontation. Through blurred vision, she glared at the surrounding hellish atmosphere and clenched her jaw.
With a vicious tug in her gut and an immensely powerful whip of her wings, an explosion of wind and white light erupted in every direction. Its force was continuous, ripping from the goddess at its epicenter, as it decisively cleansed the Hall of the Gods of any traces of the Pit. Still in exodus, the winds violently tore past the throne room doors as they lashed through the atmosphere of hell that bore down on Olympus.
Outside, the remaining Olympians stood among the demigods in the plaza after clearing away the remnants of Tartarus' monstrous army. They watched in silenced awe as torrents of air and a burst of white light erased their blood-red sky, banishing the haze choking the city. Slowly, their destroyed acropolis returned to its normal hue, even its ruins made beautiful by colorful splendor. The moon came uncovered, bathing the waning night in its remaining moonlight.
After the last of the haze cleared, cheers broke out among the demigods. The celebration quickly became deafening as their cries echoed across the city. The sound reached the Hall of the Gods as well, its collective ecstasy oblivious to Annabeth on her knees as she sobbed. Her state only became known when the Olympians ascended the stairs, entering the throne room. The five approached her in silence, and Annabeth took note of their pausing shadows as they reached her.
She stood shakily, turning to face the Olympians, and found all five kneeling before her. Athena knelt the closest to her daughter, looking up with shining eyes. Stunned, Annabeth stood still for a moment before wiping her tears. Her heart still thrummed in her chest, but she straightened her back standing before the allied Olympians. Pushing down her fear towards the unknown fate regarding both Percy and Hemera, the newly crowned Queen of the Gods held a small smile.
"The Eclipse is over."
A/N: Man there's just one chapter left and then maybe an epilogue. We'll have to see what the new Olympus looks like and, of course, the fates of both Percy and Hemera. Hope you guys enjoyed, and please review :)
owl-forge-hearth: woah, so much stuff happening at once! now i understand your excitement for the war to come. seriously though, now only three olympians are left, plus hestia n hades. i hv never seen that before, honestly, apart from those fics where they all died. can i clarify some stuff tho? firstly, 'ends through kingly whim', has that already happened, cuz zeus is already gone. who else could be referred to? chaos is female in this fic, so... secondly, 'a pawn will come for seats of power' was that when oryx destroyed aphrodite's throne or has that line of the prophecy not yet come through? overall though, great chapter! can't wait for the next (also cuz of that cliffhanger)
I was so excited to answer this review when I got it haha. Percy was the "kingly whim" because he took Zeus' mantle, became King, and then decided to give it to Annabeth, who "officially" ended the Eclipse. As for the pawn, that was about Percy being manipulated by Tartarus and killing Olympians, destroying their seats. It was just a nice callback when I realized I could have Oryx, another pawn, destroy a throne to kill a god to show that the connection goes both ways. I hope this chapter was a good payoff for the cliffhanger :)