AN: A remake of a very old fic of my other account...to celebrate the TV show, remade.
My hands trembled as I approached him, the cold hilt of the knife in my grip. It was absurd. How many times had I charged headfirst into battle against beasts and monsters of unimaginable horror? Yet now, the blade felt unbearably heavy.
Luke flinched back, a flicker of fear crossing his once confident gaze — a testament to Annabeth's plan working wonders over summer - as he eyed the knife, none the wiser. He licked his lips nervously before managing to stammer out, "You can't . . . can't do it yourself." His eyes darted warily to the knife once more and then back up to me. "He'll break my control. He'll defend himself. Only my hand…I know where…I can keep him controlled."
An otherworldly glow danced across Luke's skin, each breath he drew sparking embers to life around him - Kronos's transformation nearing completion.
At that moment Grover's voice shattered our standoff- full of urgency, "Percy! Get him!" the satyr screamed from the top of his lunge tossed something towards me.
The object that Grover hurled came spinning towards me, reflecting glimmers of the divine hearth onto its polished surface. The Scepter of Asclepius. On top sat what a child of Hermes might call pretty craftsmanship—an incredibly lifelike deliverance of Asclepius's sacred animal- a serpent twining up the staff. Even from a distance, the scepter seemed to emanate an aura of serenity — gentle ripples of peace spreading outward as if each pulse had the power to mend wounds and soothe suffering.
I saw Luke's eye flash in confusion, gold, blue, gold and blue. I moved to the side with hurry, and grabbed the scepter with my left arm, stretched up to the side, my hand immediatley was greeted by the cold sting of the scepter, but there was no time to complain.
"No!" Kronos shouted, an angry cry, a desperate cry. Or was it Luke?
I closed my eyes, pointing the scepter at the Titan right before the room was swallowed by a holy glow. It felt like the world was burning, or was it just me? My hands felt as if I had just touched Apollo's sun chariot, my body screaming to let go, to stop. Kronos let out a scream, a blood-curling scream as I heard him fall to the ground.
It was a surge of both relief and torment that flooded my veins. My heart pounded hard, harder than it ever has, thrumming against my ribs as if demanding release. The weight of the scepter became inconsequential to what it made me feel. I wanted to laugh - to let loose a euphoric roar of victory to echo through the empty chamber because Annabeth's plan had worked.
Yet, equally strong was an urge that clawed at my throat—a desperate need to scream out loud, to expunge every trace of agony searing through me like a wildfire. As though each nerve ending inside of me had been trampled upon by a herd of raging minotaurs; worse than than bearing the weight of sky on my shoulders for those few excruciating minutes; grappling onto sanity by nothing more than sheer willpower alone lest I succumb— And then abruptly, it all halted—as if snuffed out by an unseen giant hand leaving behind an unsettling quiet. My grip slackened around the rod till it clattered noisily onto the floor echoing eerily through profound silence.
I didn't know what to expect when I opened my eyes. Would I find Kronos in front of me, laughing, at how stupid this plan had been? Or maybe it did work, but it worked too well, and it would kill Luke as well? Or maybe I would open my eyes and mom would be there, telling me to wake up and get ready for school?
I didn't know which was scarier.
"He's gone," Luke Castellan gasped weakly as I opened my eyes. His face was pale, drawn, but his eyelids fluttered. "He's gone," he repeated again.
"Luke?" I heard Annabeth ask from afar, her voice low and quiet, almost meek. "Did - did it work?" Grover stuttered from one of the thrones.
"It worked," I breath, eyes locked into Luke's still wide, breathing heavily as he laid on the ground, clothes tattered, skin burnt. But it worked. Kronos was gone - and Luke Castellan was alive.
"Oh." I said.
"Percy?" I heard a voice ask. Who was it? Annabeth. Grover? Or had Thalia slipped away from that statue that was pinning her down? Or was it Gabe, barging into my room to wake me up, breath reeking of alcohol? To wake me up from this dream that had lasted for years? "Percy?" another voice asked. Was it Luke, recovering from his wounds so suddenly? Or was it my dad, my real dad, back from his battle with Typhoon, to congratulate me, to hug me?
"Percy?" another voice asked.
My mind boomed, his hand reached up to his head, his eyes blurred, the great throne room of Mount Olympus, my friends, all fading away. My mind began to scream, I could feel it, a part of myself dying, throes of agony as I let the scream slip into my mouth and out of my throat. What was happening? What was this? This. This. This. This. This. What was this? What? What?
They are coming. Run!
The voice! The voice! It was wrong! It shouldn't be here! That voice wasn't me! It wasn't!
They are coming! The voice whispered back. Was it angry? Or horrified?
I shouldn't have, but I knew who they were. I could feel them, all of the gods, their overpowering presence coming closer and closer. Their power….it was like I could taste it, smell it almost, it tingled all along my skin, and it was….frustrating? How could they be so powerful - the fact they could simply blink at me and shatter me in an instant? It was…..
Maddening! The voice seemed to scream. And maddening to remain! Run!
A whirlpool of flickering images and fragmented thoughts consumed my mind. Voices overlapped, drowned in a chaos of confusion. Danger was approaching, I knew it too well…I couldn't breath, I couldn't see, I couldn't listen, a ringing sound in my ear drowning out everything.
A familiar voice crashed into me like icy ocean waves, suffocating my senses. "Percy?" The echo vibrated through me — an odd detachment seemed to apply to what he was saying. His voice was full of fear, anxiety for his friend in agony.
I felt myself moving, but I wasn't entirely sure where or how or why—something primal had come over me, a harrowing sense of dread, my breath unsteady, my legs trembled - the gods coming closer and closer.
Then came that whisper again: They are coming! Run!
Run? From who? The gods? But the gods, my dad would never…he would never…The voices buzzed within my scrambled nerves like angry bees—an invasion—an imposition in my own head!
In a strange blur of motion and madness, I found myself clumsily lurching forward — propelled by that urgent, primal desire to survive. But where was I going? Where was I? I saw nothing but a blur in front of me, nothing but a blank room filled with light.
Trapped inside this uncontrolled chaos of blurry visions and echoing yells that jumbled together; hands reaching out towards me, quickly turning into grasps trying—to restrain perhaps? Restrain me? But why? All blurred scarlet as frenzied motions streaked flesh — no time to think, only flee the looming presences.
Everything around me tinted red—a sickening reminder of what I've done or worse, who I have hurt. Each shuddered breath tasted like fear and confusion, a chilling contrast from the warmth spreading where my blade must have met flesh.
My sword…Riptide, it was in my hand. Why did I pull it out? To defend myself? Or to attack?
Underfoot something gave way with an unsettling crunch but my panicked mind hardly registered the abnormality; each stride carrying me farther into disarray and closer to an insurmountable dread—the gods are so close…
But why am I running?
Why would we not? The voice screamed.
Another pull - stronger this time – halted me momentarily—one hand—a grip around my bicep anchoring strong as Atlas' burden itself—"Percy!" An anguished bleat.
Mustering whatever strength remained in me, I yanked free with a wild gasp- some fell back—I didn't mean to—but their cries ended abruptly.
Suddenly, another form materialized before me—a flicker of blonde blurring into a vision obscured by fear. I saw stormy gray eyes wide with desperation and…anger? Confusion? But the recognition didn't come. Was I supposed to know them?
They reached for me but it felt more like an attack - an obstruction in my path towards escape. My instincts took over and my body reacted on pure adrenaline—resisting my restraint.
Riptide swung in a blinding arc, its keen edge cleanly slicing through resistance and desperation alike; the brief encounter leaving behind only scattered echoes of painfully familiar voice whispering my name—"Percy?"
There were smears of colors in my vision, my shirt felt damp, whizzing past with such dizzying momentum that my mind struggled to comprehend. The world around me seemed to lurch and the earth spun beneath my feet as I stumbled onwards.
My breath hitched in my throat as a surge of power pulsated close behind me; it was like standing on the edge of a precipice, teetering dangerously close to disaster. But just when I thought the unseen force would seize me, it stopped-suddenly and inexplicably.
Run, Perseus! A voice whispered in his ear - but it was not that voice, the voice that was so wrong, it was almost soft, an urgent whisper.
And so I did. I ran, I ran through the blur, through the people - or were they monsters? Through the gods? Or were they mortals? I clutched my shirt, my chest, my breathing growing more and more frantic as I ran past, towering structures surrounding me.
And then the world righted itself just as suddenly — blinkered by an abrupt clarity that struck almost blinding against the backdrop of total darkness moments ago—with air infused heavily with dank smell characteristic only to one place…but…where exactly? It still feels disoriented…and disconnected…
My body shuddered, my knees buckled. I crumpled against the rough texture of the wall, clutching my head in a futile attempt to silence the chaos within me. What was happening?
We cannot stop running, that…foul voice spoke again. I clenched my teeth.
Be quiet.
This is no time for - the voice angrily spoke - and I crushed it. Like swatting an annoying fly out of my ear.
I pushed away from the wall for support and tried to force air into my lungs. But each breath was stabbing pain; something wasn't right inside me.
Each individual hair on my arm seemed like it had its own pulse. The simple act of brushing against raw concrete sent overwhelming sensations coursing through me; every granule felt magnified beneath my touch - more real than anything I'd ever experienced before.
Sounds were amplified beyond belief—the distant rush of water echoed so loudly in my ears that bile rose up in my throat. Every beat of my heart throbbed with nauseating intensity—each organ within me performing its function with clockwork precision—. And I could fell all of them precisely. it was too much… too real…
And worse, I could still feel the gods, back in their thrones, I could feel the city, monsters, mortals, so many people - I clenched my head again and began to scream. What is happening? What is this?
The voice only laughed before it began to weep.
AN: For all those remember and are still around...enjoy. And wherever you are, who ever you are, have a good day.
