dreamt debris afloat amidst the waves

Notes:

A shorter chapter this time. I'd really like to explore the time between the books some more and also squeeze in some extra angst.

(Title from Stranded Lullaby- Miracle Musical)

(See the end of the chapter formore notes.)

In the wake of the Battle of the Labyrinth, as some campers were calling it, Percy forgot completely about his upcoming birthday. He'd been distracted by a number of things, namely Nico.

Shortly after the battle, the other boy was summoned to the Underworld to speak with his father. They'd met once before, when Hades gifted Nico a sword made of Stygian iron. But he had the terrible feeling that the god of the Underworld wouldn't be so quick and generous this time. No, immortals that gave gifts often wanted something in return. Percy wanted to argue that Nico was still barely the age he was at when he undertook his first question, but he held his tongue. Nico was a stubborn kid, sometimes as stubborn as Percy himself. Instead of going with him, he sent Onyx and Ruby to look after Nico. His mom even packed Nico a backpack with sandwiches and water and toiletries, plus a canteen of nectar. Just in case.

Only weeks after the Battle of the Labyrinth, Percy had to watch Nico walk across the camp's border without him. And he wondered if Chiron felt the same way every time he sent kids on suicide quests. Not that Percy thought Hades was going to kill Nico. Not yet.

The other thing that concerned him was his complete lack of appetite.His mom noticed. Chiron noticed. Percy noticed.He was running on a few bites of his meals at most, but never seemed to tire.

With the Labyrinth collapsed, Percy thought there'd no longer be any way for Camp Half-Blood and Camp Jupiter to communicate. The fates loved to prove him wrong.He was getting more offerings than ever. He still wasn't dreaming, or at least he wasn't remembering his dreams, but he woke up every morning since the Battle of the Labyrinth with a full stomach and the taste of smoked meat and soft cheese on his tongue. Once, he even woke up to the taste of cheeseburger and fries, something he'd been craving for a while.

And yet, no response from Chaos.

Percy didn't want to admit it, but he was afraid. Afraid for what was happening at Camp Jupiter, afraid for Nico, afraid of what he was becoming.

So for the first time ever, Percy prayed to Chaos. Properly prayed. Under the cover of night, he burned a plate full of lamb meat and grapes and poured out libations in the form of wine he paid the Stolls handsomely to get for him. He emptied his plate and bottle in the big hearth at the center of the cabins, hoping no one could see him. But he needed answers.

He needed to know why, after years of trying to manipulate him and enter his life, Chaos had gone silent. This couldn't be a coincidence.

All Percy got was a breeze that made him shiver and the distant sound of harpy wings flapping. He eventually gave up and went to bed, hoping to see something in his dreams at the very least.

Perseus opened his eyes.

There were trees surrounding him. Tall, green cypress trees. The ground beneath him was rough terrain marked by a cobblestone path. And from somewhere close by, the smell of salt. Perseus followed the path, winding through the trees until the land came to an end.

Hundreds of feet below him, lapping at the wall of earth before it, was the sea. Small islands punctured the horizon, bearing pale sand and miniature rolling hills.

He closed his eyes and basked in the sunlight. Perseus wanted the sun to be stronger, so it grew warmer on his face. He wanted the breeze flowing over him to whip in his hair, so it did.

Perseus opened his eyes and looked at the frothy water below. He reached for it, closed his hand into a fist, and raised his arm. He wanted the ocean to rise.

So the water surged forward, swallowing the cliff as it rose and rose. The islands were lost in the ocean's wake, nothing remaining of their beaches or hills as the water formed a bay that now lapped at Perseus' feet.

He smiled. Perseus shed his sandals and dipped his feet in the cool water.

He tread across the waves beaching themselves upon the land, finding no resistance as he sank deeper and deeper. When his feet reached the bottom of the sea, he was displeased to find it so dark. So the water grew bright blue in color as the sunlight pierced to the very bottom of the ocean. Content once more, Perseus began moving forward.

He wasn't certain where he was going, but the water welcomed him. Swimming with no need to surface for air, he watched how the land beneath him dipped into unknowable darkness before rising back up.

Soon, Perseus found himself at the bottom of a slope. The land gently rose higher and higher before him, topped with grassy knolls that waved in the current. An island, now submerged.

Perseus chose to walk and found it as easy as traversing land as he approached the island. He found another path where the grass began and followed it.

Trees wafted in the current, a mirror image to their typical behavior on land. Flowers tinted blue by the water grew in clusters along the path. None of this plant life was suited for existence underwater; it saddened him to know it would all wither and die soon. But only a little bit. Kelp and coral would take their place, eventually.

Perseus soon found the end of the path. At the highest point of the submerged island was a temple of white marble. The torches mounted to the exterior were extinguished, but it seemed to glitter in the sunlight that drifted through the water. He smiled as he approached it.

The doors parted for him and Perseus found himself within a darkened chamber. How bothersome. He snapped his fingers and the room suddenly grew bright.

Perseus saw mosaic tiles decorating the floor and murals on walls. Glass lanterns hung from the ceiling, glowing with fire that burned even when submerged. The walls depicted a figure with fair skin and white hair. One mural showed the figure beneath a great, dark mass that extended up to the ceiling. Another showed the figure riding atop a large, snarling beast with black fur and red eyes. A third showed not the figure, but a cluster of humans. They were pouring food and drink into a fire, an offering. Perseus wondered who it was for.

He passed the murals and approached the altar at the end of the temple where sacrifices would have been made. Running his hand along the smooth surface, Perseus heard a voice whisper to him.

All you desire, you may have.

The voice did not scare him. It was familiar and warm.

"How so?" he asked.

You need only take. Is this world not your own?

Was it?

Perseus was able to change the sunlight and the wind. He raised up the ocean as he pleased.

With a thought, he decided he wanted to see the temple as it was meant to be seen. He focused his power and grabbed at the water all around him. His reach extended for miles in every direction. With a great tremble in the earth and a terrible, powerful roaring in his ears, Perseus banished the ocean water from the island. The temple drained, the lanterns reflected orange light rather than the muted hue from before.

The surface of the altar was not even wet, that was how completely Perseus had drained the place of salt water. He gazed out the temple doors and saw trees swaying in the wind and flowers that now shone in hues of purple and yellow.

What a lovely place.

But so empty.

Perseus decided he wanted company. And a creature emerged from the earth with hardly a thought. With sleek, black fur and a long tail and folded ears. Perseus saw this creature and decided to call it a dog.

The dog approached him and he gave it a scratch behind its ears, knowing this was what it enjoyed most. He smiled.

But it still wasn't enough.

Perseus reflected on the mural of the humans giving libation and offerings and decided he should have that as well. Followers to give him tribute.

Buildings arose from the ground with pale walls and thatched rooftops. Pathways and wells sprung up to give the inhabitants steady footing and water. And from the homes came bipeds dressed in chitons and sandals. Humans.

For them, Perseus provided dogs for companionship, as well as horses for travel. He gave them other animals for hunting and plentiful fish for fishing. He watched, pleased, as they grew their crops of wheat and grapes for bread and wine. His pleasure grew as his followers burned the finest of their food for him.

After not much effort on his part, all was well. Perseus retreated to the far and distant cliff to watch his followers from above. He marveled as generations passed, the number of homes growing and growing. He kept their weather fair and their lives easy. They ate well and were free of famine or storms.

Eventually, they spread their civilization to nearby islands and developed new villages that grew into sprawling towns.

In turn, Perseus grew in power. He grew in pride. He wanted nothing but the best for his followers.

But he had so many now. Thousands, all with their own little lives and needs. Always, they wanted better soil for crops, cures for ailments, ends to feuds or the strength to best their rivals. All at once, in a constant stream of prayers and offerings and demands. If Perseus tried to help one person by enriching their field, he made another poorer in comparison. Jealousy grew among them. His followers fractured into their own individual states despite all coming from one source so long ago.

Despite Perseus' growing concerns, the centuries continued onward. The humans plundered each other for food and wealth. They killed each other or made their fellow humans into slaves. Their cities developed walls as peasants fled from the countryside. Famine and illness spread. As did war. Individuals dubbed themselves kings serving in Persus' name, though he had no say in their rise to power.

Some even began to curse his name for aiding their enemies instead of them. But how could Perseus avoid such a fate?

Everyone had an enemy. To help one was to hurt any number of others.

How frustrating. How annoying.

He wanted nothing more than to bask in the silence that came before them all.

Then take back your peace. Take whatever it is you want.

Perseus was glad to hear the voice again. He couldn't agree more.

With all his power called forth, he set a terrible storm upon his world. It flooded the rivers and lakes, swelling the shorelines. It swallowed ships whole and buried them beneath silt. It washed away fieldlands and wethered city walls.

Perseus took and took and took and ignored the cries he once wanted so deeply to answer. He didn't stop until the world was empty again.

He waited several more decades for the bodies to rot and the buildings to crumble. Then he sent another storm to wash away the debris and bones.

Now, it was just him. And the original temple. Of all the things in his world, it had survived. He sat upon its front steps to bask in the sunlight.

This is your birthright, Perseus. The Olympians would gladly bow to you if only you showed them your true heritage.

He frowned. What was an Olympian?

Perseus was suddenly plagued by memories of a city in the clouds. Of other gods, so loud and bothersome, squabbling. When had that ever happened?

You think I have the power to diffuse your war? If only you understood why Kronos is so desperate to have you.

Kronos?

Perseus saw in his mind's eye a scythe. A man with golden eyes and a terrible scar.

You are Perseus, the destroyer. All you have to do to end your troubles… is take.

Percy gasped and opened his eyes. He was surrounded by dull gray walls dotted by fossils and shells. There was silence, save for the trickle of his fountain and his own labored breathing. He sat up, taking in the sight of his dark blue bed sheets and the wrinkled gray t-shirt he went to bed in. He looked at his hands. Still the same. He pulled a lock of his hair and saw that it was still white. He fumbled his way to the fountain and looked at his reflection. Green eyes, human eyes.

He looked as he did before, but he still didn't feel the same.

How could he dream as if a thousand years had gone by? Percy watched people die, civilizations rise and fall by his hand. Destroying them all wasn't like a game or test. He didn't even think that hard about it. It had just feltnatural.

Percy squeezed his eyes shut and sank to the floor. He covered his mouth with his hand and bit down on his palm to stifle his cry.

What did Chaos do to him? Why show him all that?

It was like Percy's life was erased from his mind. He didn't remember his mom or his friends or even his name. He'd always gone by Percy.Perseuswas the godly side of him he never wanted. And stripped of his humanity, all that was left was a selfish god.

Was that how the Olympians and Titans felt? Were mortal lives truly so petty and small to them?

Percy felt revulsion rise up in his throat like bile. Even if it was a dream, even if it wasn't real, he had behaved exactly like a god and hated himself for it. The sound of shifting sheets caught his attention. Percy's heart jumped in his chest as the partition around Nico's bed parted. A head of unruly black hair poked out, blinking slowly in the gray morning light.

"Percy? What's wrong?"

"Nico?"

His cabinmate frowned. "Yeah, is something the matter? Why're you up? It's barely morning."

Percy tried to make sense of Nico, wondering if he was going insane. "Aren't you supposed to be with your dad? Or did you just get back?"

"I got back last night, but you were asleep."

"Oh."

Now Percy felt a little foolish. Still frazzled, but at least he had some kind of normal explanation for something. He got up, his knees popping as he did so. Percy took in a few steadying breaths.

"So, what did the two of you talk about?"

Nico yawned. "Um, things… me being his son and stuff like that."

Percy nodded. He could imagine Nico's first chat with his dad was awkward and tense. With no idea what else to do, he tried his best to put his awful dream behind him.

The two of them joined the rest of the camp for breakfast. It was unusually easygoing. In the wake of the Battle of the Labyrinth, the camp was slow to recover. Ordinary lessons and activities went as planned, but Clarisse was having a hard time not constantly having a sword strapped to her side. And it was hard work cleaning up the carnage in the woods.

Today, however, the camp was alight with laughter. It reminded Percy of the summers prior, when an oncoming war was more of an idea than a reality.

He could almost pretend he was an ordinary camper at an ordinary camp.

"You're still not hungry?" Nico asked. Percy shook his head.

He sipped his orange juice. In truth, he wasn't sated from more offerings. His appetite was just ruined by his nightmare.

"I had a bad dream," Percy admitted. "It uh… maybe I'll be hungry around lunch."

A strange look flashed across Nico's face. A darting from intrigue to confusion before settling on frustration. All in the span of a second or two. Then it was gone. Nico didn't say anything as they ate and Percy didn't feel like addressing whatever it was that lingered between them.

The rest of the day passed surprisingly fast. Not as quick as the centuries Percy saw in his dreams, granted. But he did sword fighting practice with Nico and the Hermes Cabin, picked at some lunch, paddled in a canoe on the lake, hung out on his cabin's porch, and somehow noticed that it was dinner time.

It was just so easy to lose himself in whatever he wanted to do. Chiron wasn't hounding after him, his mom wasn't at camp that day, and Mr. D was nowhere in sight.

But wasn't he supposed to help Beckendorf collect scraps of shrapnel and debris from the battle field? Percy's ability to manipulate water was supposed to make weeded out the broken trap parts from the dirt easy. Why didn't the older camper come find him?

Percy craned his neck to spot Beckendorf at his table within the pavillion. The other saw him and gave a quiet smile. Weird. If their places were swapped, Percy would've been pissed at himself for not helping.

Come to think of it, the Hermes Cabin wasn't at all nervous to train with Percy. And no one had a problem with Nico being a child of Hades.

What was going on with the camp lately?

"Percy, are you okay?" Nico asked.

"Does something feel off to you?" Percy asked in response. He turned to Nico, "Anything about like… camp in general?"

Nico shook his head. "No, why?"

"Nothing at all? Doesn't it seem awfully cheerful? And isn't it weird that everyone is suddenly cool with us?"

He tried to search Nico's face for any kind of dawning realization. But there wasn't one.

"I think you're just tired, Percy. You've had a long day."

He raised a brow. "Long compared to the Battle of the Labyrinth? Compared to our quest?"

Nico's baffled expression sealed it for Percy. He pulled out Riptide and uncapped his sword. The familiar blade elongated in his hand.

"Percy? What're you-"

He ran his fingertip over the blade and bit back a frown as a stinging pain radiated from his hand. He examined his blood in the summer light.

He was bleeding gold. He knew it. He was still dreaming. Everything around him had been too perfect.

Percy looked up at Nico. Or rather, the mirror image of the other boy. Nico himself looked stunned. "You- Percy, you're…"

He'd had enough of these smoke and mirrors.

"You aren't real," he said.

Nico blinked at him. Percy hoped for confusion or some kind of retort. He wanted Nico to panic at the sight of Percy's godhood or doanything.Instead, all he said was, "I'm as real as you want me to be."

Enough. Percy slammed both hands down on the table, making a hush sweep over the pavillion.

"Chaos!" he shouted, "I know you're here! What kind of trick is this?"

No one stood or asked Percy what he was talking about. He couldn't even hear the wind or crickets chirp. Nico opened his mouth and a voice that very much did not belong to him answered,"No tricks here. Only what you want to see."

He glowered. "I want to wake up."

"Do you?"

Before he could answer withyes, obviouslyhe blinked. Percy opened his eyes and found himself on the banks of a narrow river cutting across a wide valley. A fort with earthen walls and high towers loomed over him. Camp Jupiter.

Did you not like the world I made for you? I did spend a bit of time on it, hoping it would be perfect for you. It had plentiful water and was so quiet at first. But yes… surely those little pests must've grown tiring.I'm sorry, my child. I wish I could have freed your spirit from the prison of your body.

Percy spun around, searching for his maker.

Now you overflow with questions. And since you are perpetually displeased with my attempts to help you, why not seek the answers for yourself?

The slope leading down to the camp was pockmarked with burns, trenches, traps, and abandoned weapons. Percy took a closer look at Camp Jupiter and noticed all the gouges and claw marks upon its walls and towers. Some of the mounted crossbows were broken as well. The purple banners hanging over the entryway were in tatters.

Percy could guess what had happened here. Another Battle of the Labyrinth, this one on a different coast between Kronos' forces and another camp of children. He walked across the surface of the river and entered Camp Jupiter.

Some of the buildings inside bore shattered glass fronts and smashed-in rooftops. The remains of an enemy force that infiltrated their base, or maybe damage from catapults?

The campers in their golden armor all seemed wary of another attack. Many bore full armor, as if expecting more monsters sent by Kronos. Percy couldn't blame them. They bore the brunt of the titan's attacks for a good while now.

A ways ahead of him, Percy spotted Octavian. He had no inclination to go after him, but Chaos whispered in his ear.

Speak your piece. What would you most want to say to these Romans?

Percy knew he was dreaming, but he didn't understand what Chaos was trying to do. He hurried to catch up to the older boy, weaving between the campers and ghosts. He felt compelled to not interact with them. Not physically, at least.

"Octavian! Octavian!"

He didn't know why he was calling after Octavian, either. Perhaps it was him resisting the urge to bend this dream world to his will.

Octavian stopped and turned, spotting Percy emerging from the bustle of campers.

"Perseus, my lord!" he said. He dropped to one knee to bow. "We are ever most grateful for your—"

But not even his dreams could convince Percy to listen to this guy. "Shut up, Octavian."

The older boy's jaw snapped shut with an audibleclack.

Percy had no idea what was happening at Camp Jupiter, but it needed to stop. His offerings were out of control. And he never even asked for them to begin with.

He stepped closer. "Whatever it is you're doing, just stop. I don't want your offerings or your prayers. I'm not even a god! You- you're just wasting your time."

Octavian waited for Percy to finish. He hesitated for a moment, though he didn't appear perturbed. More like he was choosing his next words carefully.

"If you claim to be no god, then how are you here? Even after the Labyrinth has collapsed?"

"What?What are you talking about?"

Percy was dreaming.

But everyone at Camp Half-Blood had bent to his whims. Octavian was not.

Percy felt a cold jolt go down his spine. Hewasdreaming, right?

Octavian remained kneeling. "You've returned to us after our most glorious victory over Saturn's forces! Are you not pleased with us? We are quite thankful that you've answered our prayers, Lord Perseus."

We?

Percy at last noticed that Octavian wasn't the only one kneeling. Every camper and ghost in sight was kneeling before him. But that shouldn't be possible! No one saw him when he entered the camp. No one noticed him until he called out to Octavian… not until he chose to reveal himself…

"We are grateful for your aid and concern," Octavian continued, oblivious to Percy's mounting panic. "But please, I believe the need for false names and faces are no longer needed. Tell us your real name, Lord."

"My name is Percy!" he shouted. "Just Percy. Get it? I'm not a god! This is…"

This couldn't be real.

Chaos made him believe this was a dream.

Or maybe this was still his dream. But he was manifesting before Camp Jupiter nevertheless.

The gods may manifest in more than one place at the same time. It is not difficult.

He refused to respond to Chaos. If Percy was confident his blood would come out even a little reddish, he'd prick his finger then and there. Instead, he asked, "You saw it for yourself. My blood doesn't run gold."

That at least got Octavian to hesitate. "Perhaps so. But if you are no god, then what could you possibly be?"

And Percy, to his horror, didn't have an answer.

"I…"

He couldn't finish. Instead, a faint, wispy voice swept over his shoulders.

He is entropy. He is destruction.

His eyes widened. No.

He is my herald.

No, no, no…

Percy turned away from Octavian, searching for some means of escape.

He closed his eyes.

When Percy opened them, he was staring at a blue birthday cake with fifteen candles on it. Yellow icing scrawled outHappy Birthday Percy!

"Make a wish, baby!" his mom said. She was standing next to him with a camera in hand.

He was in her apartment. Nico was standing to his other side. Tyson was with them as well. His brother was giving Percy a big, happy grin.

He stared at his mom.Wasit his birthday? Wasn't he supposed to turn fifteen in a few more weeks?

She laughed, as if amused by his hesitation. "Well, what are you waiting for?"

Not knowing what else to do, Percy blew out his candles. Everyone cheered as his mom began cutting slices of cake. Percy also noticed the plate of blue cookies in the center of the table. He accepted a piece of cake from his mom and reached for a cookie.

"What're these?"

Mom answered, "They're the cookies you two helped me bake yesterday, Percy."

Nico took a cookie and bit into it. "Double chocolate chip and macadamia nuts, remember?"

No.Percy wanted to say. He didn't remember, because this was probably another dream. But… a part of him somehow hoped that it was still a little real. Like what happened at Camp Jupiter. He wanted so desperately to believe this could be real.

He bit into his slice of cake, noting how tooth-rottingly sweet it was. Just the way he liked it. It was too perfect, just like Camp Half-Blood. A bolt of fear struck him; what if this was a dream, but Percy was bending his loved ones to his will. Could he even do that?

He had no idea, he could only hope it wasn't possible.

Percy stared at Nico.

"What? I have something on my face?" Nico asked.

Percy said, "You're not real."

Nico blinked. Frowned. Then rolled his eyes. "Funny joke, Percy. Is this a reference to something I haven't seen yet?"

No way.

Percy asked, "When'd you visit your dad?"

Nico gave him a strange look. "I've been gone for a while. I just got back, Percy. You let me in, even. Are you okay?"

Percy ignored Nico's words and tried to excuse himself from the little party.

"Is something the matter?" his mom asked.

"Something's bothering you?" Tyson asked. He must be able to read Percy's emotions.

He tried to shrug off their concerns and put on as convincing a smile as he could muster. "Everything's fine! I just need to run to the bathroom."

Percy hurried and locked himself inside the bathroom. He pulled out Riptide and held his sword over the bathtub, making a small nick on his arm.

His blood ran gold.

No way. How long was this going to go on for?

Percy just wanted it to end. He wanted to live within therealCamp Half-Blood, even if it meant being a pariah among other misfit kids. He wanted Octavian and the Romans to leave him alone. He wanted a real birthday party with his real loved ones.

Riptide clattered to the floor as he sank to his knees. Percy closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to the cool rim of the tub. The worst thing was that Percy knew exactly what he had to do. It was what Chaos was trying to convince him was natural and right for him. To take.

"Chaos," he said. He knew his third parent could hear him. "I don't want this anymore. I'm taking my dreams back. I'm taking my life back. I want this to be done with."

He thought of the endless expanse that was Chaos' realm. With its infinite stars and its galaxies that could fit in his hands. He wanted to go there. Percy knew deep down that was the only place that Chaos wouldn't make a copy of. If he wanted to go there, he'd go to the real place.

Percy called on his godly powers. Both sides of them. The pipes in the walls groaned. The bathroom floor tiles cracked in a web that spread out around him.

"Take me… take me home."

Percy opened his eyes.

He was floating in a vast, black expanse. There was no floor beneath him, though he could still feel some force pressing against him. Allowing him to remain kneeling. He pushed himself to his feet and felt the invisible floor beneath him fall away.

Floating in water was so soothing to him. He tried to convince himself that floating in an endless void was similar.

Happy early birthday, my Perseus.

"Percy," he automatically corrected without thinking.

He looked over his shoulder. Chaos hovered before him in all their glory. They were the same as always: endless galaxies pressed into a humanoid shape, black holes for eyes, no mouth, plumes of clouds and stardust for a chiton. Utterly otherworldly.

Perhaps this is what all deities looked like in their true forms.

"Some present you gave me," he added, trying to keep his voice flat and neutral.

Indeed. I hope you can forgive me.

"It was all fake, right?"

Chaos approached him, gliding through space in a way that Percy found disquieting.

Those islands you flooded were real. The followers you had were real. They're all right here,Chaos said. They held out a hand and a miniature Earth-like world manifested in their hand. It was mostly water, save for islands dotted about. And one tall mountain erupting from the ocean.A custom made world, you see. It was designed with you in mind, meant to bend entirely to your will. It was fun for a while, wasn't it?

Percy stared at the pint sized plant. That thousand years werereal?

He didn't want to believe it. He didn't want to believe he could slaughter thousands with hardly a concern. Percy wouldneverlevel such power at anyone. He couldn't.

"You're lying," he said, because he had no idea what else to say. Percy felt like he was going to be sick. He felt like he was about to cry. He wanted to cry. "Those people weren't real, right? And the animals? I didn't… I didn't—"

You did. Stripped of your mortal memories, you took to godhood quite well. You came to resent your followers far later than I expected, however. But I suppose that's who you are, Perseus. So kindly to little mortals. So loyal to them.

Thousands of real, living creatures… and Percy really destroyed them?

He felt a tear slip down his face. Chaos reached for Percy. He flinched as they wiped away his tears.

Though if it truly upsets you, I suppose you could call it a dream.Chaos waved their hand through the planet as if it were made of smoke. It floated away, dissipating into the cosmos.It hardly matters anymore. That world no longer exists.

"A-and Camp Jupiter?"

Both a dream and a reality.

Percy squeezed his eyes shut. He could feel more tears gathering at his chin as he wrapped his arms around himself. There was likely no way to protect himself from Chaos, but it made him feel a tiny bit safer.

He could not bring himself to look Chaos in the eye. "You called me your herald. Why?"

Chaos reached for him. Percy's breath caught in his throat. Audibly so. His maker paused, centimeters from cupping his cheek. They instead tucked a lock of hair behind his ear.

I speak only the truth. I create and you destroy. I am the void from which all once arose and you are pure entropy, an undiluted manifestation of destruction. You complete me, Perseus. And I complete you.

Percy didn't even try to correct Chaos about his name. He asked, "If I cut myself right now, would I bleed ichor?"

Chaos laughed softly.Want to find out for yourself?

No. No, he didn't.Which left one question remaining.

"Why did you do all this? Was this why you went quiet beforehand?"

Hm? Oh.

Chaos snapped their fingers and the cosmos around them morphed into a copy of Camp Half-Blood in the midst of the Battle of the Labyrinth. Percy looked past Chaos and saw himself the way everyone else that day must have seen him.

The mirror version of him was crouched on the ground, jaw open in a scream that couldn't be heard over the hurricane whipping around him.

I was so eager to give you my birthday gift, I simply assumed you would occupy yourself while I prepared it.

The image of Camp Half-Blood dissolved and left them among the stars once more.

You see, Perseus. You've been upset with me when I have tried being patient and generous. You've been upset with me when I tried giving you access to prophecies and visions. So I wanted you to see what I saw; your familial and emotional ties pale in comparison to the devotion and power you could have with godhood.

Wrong, Percy wanted to say. He had felt the least overwhelmed when he was in his mother's apartment. He had a feeling Chaos knew what he was thinking.

"You can't, I don't know, wait for me to grow old in order to make me a god or whatever?"

Assuming Percy even survived this damned war. Chaos' void eyes reflected nothing, yet Percy absorbed their sense of curious amusement.

Why wait when you can take? I've invested myself so heavily in your life that, despite my eons of existence, I've begun to feel time as you feel it. Day by day crawling by, it's tedious and terrible. You deserve better.

Chaos put a hand on Percy's shoulder, ignoring how he stiffened under their touch.

No one is perfect, and I've grown tired of being patient.

A sound escaped him. Scared and panicked, terrified even to his own ears. Those eyes felt like they were pulling him in closer and closer, promising to never let him go.

"I want…" Percy began. He felt like he couldn't breathe. He thought of his bunk within Cabin 3. Hisrealbunk. And Percy decided that was where he wanted to be. "I want to wake up."

Something like a thread connected his consciousness to the physical world where the real Camp Half-Blood existed. Percy gripped it as hard as he could and pulled.

He heard Chaos speaking. They said something like,so predictable.

Percy opened his eyes and found himself in his cabin at camp. It was still dark out, somehow. So he hadn't been asleep for even one night?

Percy threw off his sheets and searched Nico's bed. It was empty. He found Cass asleep on a pile of pillows by the fountain, though she startled awake and barked at him. Percy looked out the window and saw Andrea and Mrs. O'Leary fast asleep.

So Nico really did visit his dad. And Percy really did send Onyx and Ruby to look after him.

He was awake. This was real. And there was no one around who he could hurt.

A wet nose pushed against his palm. Percy looked down at Cass and ran his hand down her back.

"Sorry I scared you, girl."

Cass closed her eyes as Percy scratched her behind the ears. She yawned, gave his hand a lick, and returned to her pile of pillows. In truth, all Percy wanted was to not think for a long while. But he'd also rather do anything else than go back to sleep.

He turned on the lights and checked his watch by his bedside. It was a little past four in the morning. Well, if Percy wasn't going to be sleeping anytime soon, he might as well keep his body occupied and run some exercise drills in his cabin.

Percy moved to his chest to grab some fresh clothes. As he sifted through his belongings, he shifted his weight and felt something sharp pierce the bottom of his foot. Percy hissed and dropped the t-shirt he had in his hand.

There was a thin, twisted bit of silvery scrap metal on the floor. Barely a few centimeters wide but about as long as his hand. It must've been something that Tyson left behind. And with the hassle of worrying about so many things, Percy must've never noticed it until now.

He lifted his foot and pulled at the bit of metal. It came away easily, though that wasn't why a strangled shout left his throat.

The end the metal scrap was coated in blood.Goldenblood.

Percy felt like he was about to be sick.

"No, no… please, no…"

He examined his blood in the light. Percy stared hard and found that his blood wasn't the color of pure golden ichor.

Yes,he thought. It was a shade or two darker. And more of a reddish-gold still. No longer copper, it was a dull brassy color now. But it wasn't pure gold. It wasn't ichor.

He wasn't a god. Not yet.

Cass whined. Percy spotted her crouched low beneath a bunk with her ears pulled flat against her head.

"Hey, hey. It's still me.I'mstill me." Percy said. But the bloody footprint on his floor proved otherwise.

Cass gave a low whine and a quiver in response. Thunder clapped overhead.

Was that Zeus? The king of the gods found out about him already?

Percy raced to the window and didn't dare believe what he was seeing. Despite the darkness above, he could still see the outlines of clouds being pulled over camp, even though it shouldn't have been possible. They were all a dark, foreboding color as they swirled over a fixed point like a hurricane in the sky. Percy threw open his cabin door and got a face full of bitter wind.

He stepped out onto the grass, ignoring Mrs. O'Leary and Andrea's nervous barking. He looked straight up.

The clouds were gathering around Cabin Three. It shouldn't have been possible. And yet, here it was.

Child of a stormbringer. Percy gave it a few minutes at most before the clouds were dense enough to blot out the moon and stars. And when his powers from Poseidon came, his powers from Chaos would soon follow. What would their combined strength at such a level look like?

If Percy could barely control himself during the Battle of the Labyrinth, he didn't want to imagine what something likethiscould do.

He tried to take a breath to calm his nerves, but the wailing wind only made his anxiety spike. Rain was already falling, a terrible omen within the camp's boundaries. A dull ache was racing up his leg as a pool of brassy blood gathered beneath his foot. Percy needed to act fast. He had to keep the camp safe.

He had no other choice but to leave.

Percy called over Andrea and motioned for her to lay down. Ignoring how his foot throbbed in protest, he climbed onto her back. He patted her side and pointed into the distance. "To the beach! The beach!"

Andrea obeyed, despite the tremors Percy could feel wracking her body. She was likely afraid of the sudden oncoming storm, but he wondered if there was something in him she was responding to.

They dipped into pure darkness before manifesting on top of a sandy dune. Percy slipped from Andrea's side, giving her a pat on her leg.

"Good girl, go back. Go back."

He didn't want anyone around for what might happen next. Andrea whimpered, jumping at another clap of thunder but was slow to leave. Percy pushed her away before turning his back and stumbling toward the water. Another rolling crash of thunder. Lightning lit up the sky.

He looked back. Andrea was crouched among the overgrown grass but had retreated some distance. In what little moonlight there was left, he saw the way his blood shimmered where it stained the sand.

Percy staggered to the water and the ocean surged across the sand to meet him. For a single, gut-churning moment, he recalled his memory (dream? alternate universe?) where he was a god ruling over all. But this was different. Percy would not let himself flood the beach or the camp.

The water rose to his thighs and he collapsed. Percy let a wave swallow him whole and pull him deeper into the frigid waters. He traded the sound of the wind and rain for the rush of currents in his ears.

Percy let himself drift down onto a long, smooth outcropping of stone jutting from the sand. Kelp waved in bushels around him. He clawed at the stone, feeling a familiar ache in his mouth and eyes.

Was he far enough from the shore to spare the camp from his storm? Were his hounds alright?

Percy let out a low groan as a fresh wave of pulsating power pushed from behind his eyes. He heard the crack of bone and felt the teeth in his upper jaw shift. The water thrummed around him, currents swirling around him and whipping up the sand into an impenetrable shroud.

He dug his fingernails into the stone beneath him and watched in horror as the solid rock decayed into fine dust. He could gouge through it as if it were clay.

Percy let out a scream, body convulsing from the exertion of his powers. The entire outcrop was turning into slurry.

"H-help me!" he shouted, pleading.

He reached with his senses and sent a shockwave of brutal currents and utter decay across the ocean floor. Kelp rotted away, sunken boats vaporized. Stone turned to sand and any living creatures surely perished.

"...please…"

It felt like at any second, he'd be the next thing to vaporize.

Percy had no way of knowing if his prayer could be heard by his father. But right now he was in the ocean. He was in his dad's domain. Poseidon could dosomethingto help him. Right?

Percy's eyes burned. If he were on land, he'd surely be crying. His chest heaved in broken sobs, his godly powers threatening to crack him open like a geode and expose his inner being. He wanted his mother.

"Percy?"

The voice, though faint and distant, called to him. He wanted to answer.

"Percy!"

He could feel a great, ancient power quell the storm around him. The sand and silt settled all at once, though a supernova was still going off under his skin. Percy raised his head just an inch or two. Hovering in the water before him was a man with tan skin and dark hair. Green eyes. Cargo pants and a black fisherman's sweater.

Percy tried to raise himself up but his hand sank into the sand when he applied pressure. He reached with one hand. "Dad…"

He didn't know what he wanted. He just needed this overwhelming cascade of power to end.

His father had an ethereal glow about him. A strong blue-gray color. It reminded Percy of the dark, deep seas seldom seen by human eyes. It pulsed across his dad's form, maybe a hint at his divinity that he wouldn't have been able to see as an ordinary demigod.

Poseidon settled upon the sand. He studied Percy for a second, then took his hand. Percy was half afraid he'd decay his own father, but it seemed a god as powerful as his dad could survive his power. Poseidon knelt and pulled Percy into his arms.

It was so sudden, such a strange fatherly act that Percy struggled to comprehend it. His dad was holding him now, examining Percy's eyes and surely his teeth as he panted for air. Or the feeling of anything in his lungs.

He groaned and squeezed his eyes shut as his powers forced another wave of destruction out of him. There was a part of him that noted the stillness of the sea around them. A part that wanted to rage harder to bring back that storm. His head spun. Percy wished he could black out just to end it.

A hand pressed itself to his forehead. Percy felt something new wash over him. It was the calm and the peace of experiencing the brilliant blue-green waters of tropical seas. The gentle breeze on his face, the soft warmth of the sun before the scorch of midday. He fixated on it until his body stopped feeling like it would tear apart. His eyes and teeth stopped hurting.

When Percy opened his eyes, he found his father watching him carefully. Poseidon took one of Percy's hands in his own and examined it. He ran a thumb over the veins within Percy's inner wrist. They should've been blue if he were mortal. In the dark of the pre-dawn sea, Percy could see the faintest golden shimmer.

Would he eventually get a glow like his dad? A blue one?

He wanted a blue one.

"I hadn't realized you were ascending," his dad said. Though his voice was calm and guarded, it rang out in the silence they'd settled into. "This explains so much."

"Ascending?" Percy asked. But he feared he already knew what that meant.

Green eyes bore into his. "Attaining godhood."

He flinched. "I don't want to. Please, I don't want it."

"I know, Percy. But forces far older than myself have been at play in your life already, haven't they?"

He knew there was no hiding it anymore. Percy nodded. If his mom already knew, he supposed it was about time his dad found out about Chaos.

Poseidon was a busy god. He was currently occupied by commanding his armies, directing the currents across his domain to best benefit the sailors that traversed them, seeking out the old sea gods and the cruise ship they were hiding from his sight, and now there was another part of him watching over his only mortal son. Zeus could rumble and throw down lightning all he wanted, but so long as Percy remained in Poseidon's domain, he was safe from any godly wrath.

When Percy had called to him, so afraid and desperate, Poseidon had no idea what to expect. His son never prayed to him. And Percy was a strange one. Poseidon had more than his fair share of heroic and monstrous children alike. He refused to think of Percy as some kind ofcreature,but he had always known there was something not perfectly right about his son. All of Olympus knew it; Percy had made waves by returning the lost master bolt, by saving Artemis, and coming back from death all on his own.

This explained everything. His child was two-thirds god and rapidly losing what was left of his humanity. Within Percy were only a few fraying threads connecting him to his mother's blood.

His son was now asleep in the bedroom Poseidon commissioned for him, a new addition to his castle after he claimed Percy as his own. A tiny shred of his consciousness remained vigilant over his son, who begged to be given dreamless sleep. Though Poseidon was no lord of dreams or rest, he did the best he could and sent Percy visions of the idyllic seasides from ancient Greece. They were sweet memories of his, something he was glad to impart upon his child.

Poseidon grimaced as his Roman counterpart reared his head. Neptune wanted to fixate upon the loathsome old sea gods siding with Saturn and find them. To destroy them. Easier said than done, however.

His form flickered and vanished from Percy's bedside. When he gained control of himself once more, he saw that his son had rolled over onto his other side in his sleep.

Poseidon did not have it in him to resent his son for these sudden bouts where he lost control over his two sides. He wasn't even that surprised when Percy told him of his travels to Camp Jupiter.

He only warned Percy that the gods kept the two camps seperated for a reason, to keep their own Roman and Greek sides from tearing each other apart. It was a selfish reason, he knew. One that Percy was eroding with his own little cult being kindled among the Romans.

Poor Percy, he seemed distraught knowing that Camp Jupiter was praying to him. He didn't want their offerings or thanks. So what was this odd feeling Poseidon was struggling with?

Inside him, Neptune hummed with pleasure. At last, his progeny was bringing recognition to him and their domain. Poseidon frowned and shooed away his counterpart. Percy washisson. And for as long as he stayed in Atlantis, Poseidon will remain firmly Greek. Neptune and he both started off as volatile gods, but only Poseidon mellowed out with modernity. Neptune was a part of him he never wanted Percy to see.

Poseidon manifested a physical form so he could reach down and pull Percy's bed sheets higher up. He kept kicking them off in his sleep. He was a restless sleeper, just like his father.

Perhaps keeping part of himself with his son to protect him was overkill. Perhaps it was breaking the ancient laws separating them from their children. But those laws only applied to their offspring that could die. Percy was something else.

He was part primordial. Poseidon knew that with all his might, even with his attention fully undivided and basking in the undiluted power of his true form, he would never be a match for the eldest of deities. And that terrified him. What would happen if Chaos came for Percy, manifesting a physical form?

It would tear their world apart. And yet, here was a little walking piece of Chaos. A bit of a primordial that had clung to Poseidon and begged for his help. According to Percy, Chaos seemed to harbor little resentment toward himself or Sally. Only an impatience and a foolish belief that Percy belonged to them and them alone.

Impossible,Neptune said.The boy is our right as well.

For once, he agreed with himself. Percy still held sway over the sea. He was still Poseidon's child.

As he stood watch, a now-familiar and terrible presence made itself known within the room. Though hosting no physical form or voice, its tendrils snaked through the water. Poseidon concentrated a bit harder and dispelled the presence, stopping it from reaching Percy.

He knew it was a token effort on Chaos' part, and they were simply letting Poseidon keep them at bay. Shrouding Percy's mind so he was oblivious to his surroundings, Poseidon called out, "If you are here Lord Chaos, announce yourself."

A voice crept into his head, digging its claws into both Poseidon and Neptune.

I've been waiting for us to meet, Poseidon.

The primordial's voice was threaded with something dark and foreboding. Like clouds on the horizon, the promise of a storm to come soon. Poseidon had no choice but to be diplomatic.

"Welcome to Atlantis. But I ask that you not disturb Percy. He needs to rest after conjuring a storm as large as he did."

Hm.

Chaos' attention flitted elsewhere. To Percy. They remained as oppressive and unsavory as a cloud of smoke trapped within a small room.

"What do you intend on doing now that you are here?" Poseidon asked.

Chaos did not answer immediately. They also chose to address his question with a simple observation.

He wanted you.

Poseidon was not ashamed to admit the venom in the primordial's voice put him on edge. It wasn't outright anger, only a hint at a greater rage somewhere beneath the surface. And hearing Chaos' voice was unlike anything else he ever experienced. It was not a voice at all, only this sense of knowing being forcibly imparted upon him. And his godly mind had no choice but to translate it into words in order to comprehend it. Truly, Chaos was beyond even him. The primordial was something that was never meant to exist in their physical realm.

Poseidon responded with diplomacy, "He prayed and I answered."

But we both know it was you he wanted. After all I've done for him.

"What exactly have you done to him? He's told me some of it."

I've given him life, powers, new bodies, prophecies.Youhave only ever given him hardship.

A moment in which silence almost settled.

So why did he choose you?

Poseidon did not dare to think that the eldest of all beings could sound hurt. Chaos was beyond such petty feelings.

I gave him such wonderful gifts. I let him dream of a world in which he was a god. He did not want it, so I tried to give him a world in which there was no war. Only peace. He feared it, so at last I attempted to show him how small and needless his mortal attachments were. He clung to them.

"He is only a child, and he is facing a war already. You are frightening him."

I'm well aware,Poseidon.

Chaos spit his name as if it were a curse. Their voice dripped with ire.

What else is there for me to do? Perhaps I ought to accept that my child will never want me. Perhaps I ought to retract my essence from his being. Then let's see what's left of him.

A surge of protectiveness took hold of him. Poseidon bit back the urge to point out that Percy washischild. Poseidon fell in love with Sally, without him Chaos would have no infant to forcibly lay claim to. But it seemed that simply thinking it was enough.

You know nothing of my devotion to the boy. To our child. Tomychild. I will have him, Poseidon. He inherited your nature as a stormbringer, but he is destruction personified. Perseus was meant for me.

Poseidon stared down at his child. His son's budding aura flickered, perhaps sensing the terrible presence just barely refraining from entering his mind. He kicked at his covers again.

Poseidon said, "His name is Percy."

Chaos seemed fascinated by his response. Theylaughed.Poseidon resisted the urge to shrink away from the sound.

You amuse me, lord of the sea. Tell me one thing. Do you truly care for him?

"Of course I do."

You will mourn him, should he die a mortal's death?

Poseidon frowned. He feared he was being given a quiet threat. "I would."

Why?

Because… Percy was more like him than most of his children from over the many millenia. Petulant, stubborn, untamable. The same dark hair and green eyes. But also the same smile.

The ease in which Percy came into his birthright by calling up storms, speaking to horses, and seafaring… it was all so wonderful to watch. Poseidon missed the feeling of having demigod children and Percy had already made him proud several times over.

Chaos ripped his swirl of sentiments from his mind and examined the many ways Poseidon admired Percy. It left his divided attention across his many duties scattering as Poseidon struggled to reorientate himself.

The elder deity said,If you love your son, then I believe we share a common interest. Why antagonize each other when instead we may both gain something in our favor?

A deal? Absolutely not. Bargaining with immortals was a dangerous thing, even for a being such as Poseidon.

Chaos poured their whispering words into his head, clouding his consciousness as he battled, ran his palace, sought out his foes, and guarded his child. There was no part of him that was able to escape.

Let us keep Perseus at our side. For all eternity.

Another laugh.Poseidon, help me make him immortal.

Notes:

For anyone panicking right now, don't worry. I also have no idea what's going to happen next.