Chapter 3

Living Nightmare

Percy's eyes fluttered open, a jolt of disorientation coursing through him as he took in his surroundings. The sight of rubble and twisted concrete met his gaze, as if an entire building had crumbled upon him. Oddly enough, the space he had occupied was a small oasis of clarity amid the chaos, as if some protective force had shielded him during his unconsciousness. Shaking off the residual fatigue, his fingers automatically sought the comfort of his pocket, his touch confirming the presence of his trusty pen, Riptide. With a wary glance around, his sea-green eyes surveyed the wreckage, scanning for any sign of an escape route from this debris-laden prison.

Memory eluded him, the last coherent thought being his retreat to his cabin for sleep. How he had ended up in this foreign place, trapped beneath ruins, was a puzzle he urgently needed to solve. His attention honed in on a faint path, a sliver of space that appeared to have been protected, beckoning him to traverse it with painstaking caution.

Gritting his teeth, he maneuvered through the narrow passage, his movements a delicate dance to avoid triggering another collapse. Light, bright and radiant, filtered through the cracks and openings, a guiding beacon leading him onward. Inch by inch, he inched his way until the light was no longer an ephemeral hope, but a tangible reality that bathed him in its warm embrace. With a final push, Percy clawed his way to freedom, emerging from his earthen prison.

His breath came in ragged gasps as he took in the scene before him. It was a scene straight from a nightmare, one that he could hardly fathom. Destruction stretched out in every direction, an apocalyptic tableau of devastation. What he had once known as a thriving city now lay in ruins, a haunting landscape of fallen buildings and smoldering debris. Fires crackled in the distance, the acrid scent of charred wood and ash clinging to the air. The smell of something worse came to his senses, and he tried desperately to ignore it.

A mixture of confusion and horror knotted in Percy's chest. This wasn't a place he recognized, yet something deep within him whispered that he should know it intimately. His mind raced to reconcile the disconnect between his memories and this grim reality. Where was he? How had he gotten here? Questions swirled like a tempest in his thoughts, demanding answers that seemed as elusive as the wind.

The sun, a pale imitation of its former brilliance, hung overhead. Its light, once a symbol of hope and warmth, now appeared feeble, casting a pallor over the landscape. It was as if Apollo's chariot had been abandoned, leaving the world to wither in its absence.

Percy's eyes fell upon a fragment of a green sign, a solitary remnant amid the chaos. A street name, etched in faded letters, carried an unbearable weight, New York. Dread surged through him, pooling in the pit of his stomach. This was his home, the city he had fought to protect countless times. And now, it lay in ruins, a haunting reminder of his worst fears.

Grief and disbelief intertwined as he looked around, his heart clenching at the sight of familiar landmarks reduced to rubble. The Empire State Building, once a symbol of both strength and aspiration, stood broken and half-collapsed, its towering form a tragic emblem of the devastation that had unfolded. Panic clawed at him, his mother's apartment, Camp Half-Blood, Olympus itself, were they all gone?

The weight of it all threatened to suffocate him. Percy staggered forward, his steps carrying him through the desolation, a lone figure traversing a world that seemed to have forgotten life. With each breath, each echoing footfall, the magnitude of the calamity weighed on him, a crushing reminder that he was alone in a shattered reality.

Percy's mind raced as he took in the enormity of the destruction before him. Even if Olympus somehow remained standing, getting there would be impossible. He clenched his fists, a mixture of determination and despair battling within him. He couldn't allow himself to be paralyzed by grief; he needed answers, and he needed to survive whatever nightmarish reality had taken hold.

As he surveyed the wasteland that was once a thriving city, a heart-wrenching realization settled over him like a heavy fog. His mother's apartment, the place where she had raised him with such unwavering love, was gone. The idea that he might have lost her, lost everyone he cared about, threatened to shatter his resolve. He wiped at the tears that welled in his sea-green eyes, a bittersweet mixture of anger and sorrow flooding his heart. How had he survived when everything he held dear was possibly gone?

Setting his jaw, Percy's gaze shifted toward the path that would lead him away from the ruins of New York. As he got out of the city and further away from it. Nature, it seemed, had taken over where human civilization had crumbled. Verdant foliage sprouted in every direction, a testament to the resilience of life even in the face of catastrophe. The symphony of birdsong and rustling leaves surrounded him, offering a stark contrast to the desolation behind him. The wild, untamed beauty seemed almost surreal, an oasis of life amid the ashes.

With each step, Percy's thoughts whirled. Had the disaster been contained to only New York, or had this happened everywhere? The thought that pockets of life might still remain elsewhere provided a flicker of hope, however fragile. His eyes roved over the road, once a thoroughfare for bustling traffic, now partially overtaken by nature's reclamation. Buildings and houses lay scattered, half-submerged in a sea of green, as if the earth itself had risen up to reclaim its territory.

Questions bombarded his mind, a relentless assault of the unknown. How had time seemed to warp, transforming a single night's rest into this dystopian nightmare? His head ached with the weight of it all, and a sense of urgency propelled him forward. It wasn't just the absence of humans that struck him; monstrous creatures roamed in groups, an eerie dance of predators in a world that seemed to have thrown off its chains.

As the wilderness enveloped him, Percy's heart raced, his every step echoing his desperation for answers. The air seemed charged with an unexplainable energy, and the earth itself seemed to pulse with a rhythm he couldn't quite grasp.

Navigating the fractured landscape with a mixture of caution and urgency, Percy skirted around the groups of menacing monsters that roamed the ruined remnants of civilization. The eerie lack of interest they displayed towards him was unsettling, as if they were bound by a sinister agreement to leave him untouched. It was an anomaly amidst the chaos, heightening the air of mystery that clung to this dystopian realm.

Time stretched on, each step burdened with the weight of uncertainty, until he finally arrived at the crest of a hill, the place that had once cradled Thalia's sacred pine tree, the embodiment of hope, and the memory of heroic quests. But the scene that awaited him was one of desolation and despair. Thalia's tree had been ravaged, its absence a gaping wound in the earth, and the golden fleece, once a symbol of salvation, was conspicuously absent, leaving only an emptiness that mirrored Percy's heart.

With a heavy heart, he set his sights on the cabins that had once been a sanctuary for demigods like himself. As he ascended the hill, driven by the desperate hope of finding even a trace of his fellow heroes, a sudden impact sent him sprawling to the ground. The wind knocked out of him, Percy's instinctual reflexes kicked in, propelling him back onto his feet in a matter of heartbeats.

Twisting lithely, he faced his assailant, an enigmatic figure who had come out of nowhere. In his grasp, Riptide gleamed with a celestial radiance, ready to defend against whatever threat presented itself. His eyes locked onto his opponent's weapon, a blade forged entirely from gleaming gold.

A contrasting silhouette against the backdrop of destruction, she stood in stark contrast to the chaos surrounding them. Despite being several inches shorter than him, her presence emanated an air of undeniable authority. Dressed in attire that struck a balance between utilitarian and alluring, her form-fitting black pants clung to her figure, accentuating her curves with a grace that belied the fierce determination that radiated from her being.

A snug, long-sleeved shirt embraced her torso, black as well. But it was the black combat vest that commanded attention, a functional garment replete with pockets and compartments that hinted at the arsenal she concealed. The vest told a story of a warrior who was as prepared for battle as she was for intrigue.

Yet, the enigma that was her identity remained veiled by a mask, a shield of secrecy that shrouded her features in shadows. Amidst the obscurity, her eyes pierced through the darkness, two obsidian gems that glinted with an intensity that matched Percy's own determination. A sleek ponytail of raven hair cascaded behind her, a contrast to the world around them, a world that seemed to have surrendered to turmoil and decay.

As if deeming him not a threat she sheathed her weapon at her side. Tilting her head slightly and gesturing for Percy to do the same. Despite not wanting to, Percy let Riptide return to its pen form and shoved it in his pocket.

"Do you have a thing for all black?" Percy's curiosity bubbled forth, his gaze taking in her attire, which was a symphony of darkness. Every inch of fabric seemed to have been dipped in the ink of night, a visual embodiment of the shadowed world around them. The sole exception was the gleaming golden sword that stood out amidst the obsidian ensemble.

"Lower your voice," she hissed in response, her eyes flitting about with a skittish vigilance, as though she was attuned to lurking threats in the murk. The distant echoes of heavy footfalls resonated from below the hill, their thunderous cadence closing in like a harbinger of impending doom. In a heartbeat, she seized him, her grip unyielding as she hauled him into the embrace of the dense foliage that bordered Thalia's fallen tree. A finger pressed against her lips served as an unspoken directive for Percy to maintain silence.

Acknowledging the gravity of their situation, Percy nodded in agreement, his senses alert and his heart thrumming with the realization that danger was imminent. Gazing towards the source of the encroaching sound, he was met with a sight that sent shivers down his spine.

Two towering figures emerged into view, giants whose mere presence disrupted the equilibrium of the shattered world. Each colossal frame stood at least twelve feet tall, their forms both awe-inspiring and grotesque. Percy's pulse quickened as his eyes roved over the imposing creatures, alien and terrifying in equal measure. Humanoid in shape, their chests were encased in glinting bronze armor, a stark contrast to their serpent-like, green-scaled lower halves that resembled the sinuous motion of serpents.

Amongst the differences that set the two apart—one possessed long, intricately braided locks of purple, while the other sported a head crowned by verdant braids. Both possessed an air of ancient malevolence, their very presence exuding an aura that sapped courage and resolve. They were giants whose essence invoked a sense of hopelessness within Percy, a feeling that this encounter could only end in disaster.

"I thought I heard voices," one of them rumbled, his voice resonating with a sinister depth that mirrored the ominous aura surrounding them. Their gaze scrutinized the area, oblivious to Percy and his enigmatic companion hidden amidst the undergrowth.

"Shut up, Otis," the other snapped with a guttural growl, an undercurrent of irritation evident in their voice. "You didn't hear anything." The reprimand was followed by a dismissive turn, and they retraced their steps, fading back into the shadowy expanse from whence they had emerged.

The woman cast a furtive glance at Percy, placing her fingers once more to her lips as a signal to maintain silence. He acknowledged her instruction with a subtle nod, the relief palpable as the ominous figures retreated. Whatever the giants were, Percy sensed that confronting them head-on would have been a dire mistake.

Turning towards him, she communicated wordlessly through gestures, a silent beckoning for him to follow. With an agility that bespoke her familiarity with these lands, she weaved through the foliage with an uncanny grace, leaving Percy with no choice but to match her swift and silent movements. Each step brought them further into the wild brush that had become much of New York.

Abruptly, she halted in her tracks, causing Percy to jerk to a stop to avoid colliding with her. A glare from her fiery eyes warned him of his carelessness. Slowly, she approached a seemingly nondescript building. With a determined touch, her palm met the surface of the wall, causing it to emit a brief crimson glow. In response, a door materialized out of thin air. Without a word, she entered, and Percy followed suit moments later.

As he crossed the threshold, the door vanished behind him, leaving nothing but solid stone in its wake. Percy surveyed the interior, which was entirely constructed from sturdy stone. Several beds dotted the area, and a smattering of canned food lay strewn about. A rudimentary hearth stood ready for use, and to his surprise, the flick of a switch illuminated the space with electric light. Though not spacious, the shelter was adequately equipped, with additional rooms at the rear and a corner piled with essential toiletries. The setting bore the hallmarks of an apocalypse bunker, a tangible refuge amidst the world's chaos.

Whispering to her, Percy couldn't help but ask, "What is this place?" His voice was hushed, a reflection of the need for caution. She responded with an eye-roll that communicated volumes, treating him like he was an imbecile.

"A gift from my mother before she faded," she revealed, her tone bearing a hint of bitterness. "We're safe here. You can speak normally, idiot."

Percy grimaced at the less-than-affectionate term she used for him, but he seized upon the other piece of information she let slip. "Faded?" he echoed in his thoughts, perplexed.

As if sensing his confusion, her eyes rolled once again, a gesture Percy was beginning to grow accustomed to. "Yes, my mother created this haven in collaboration with Vulcan before she and many other gods faded," she explained. Settling into a chair, she shed her mask, unveiling a stunning face. Her skin was a rich, unblemished brown, save for a discreet scar on her forehead. The intensity of her dark eyes struck Percy like a falcon's keen gaze, while her raven-black ponytail cascaded over one shoulder.

Percy's confusion deepened. He couldn't help but feel lost and out of his depth. She emitted an exasperated sigh, removing her sheathed blade and placing it on the ground before taking a seat. "Are you perpetually this slow? How have you managed to stay alive if you're this dense?" she retorted, her tone laced with frustration.

"I honestly have no clue what's happening," Percy confessed, his bewilderment apparent. "I woke up today under a collapsed building in New York." Her chuckle resonated in the air as she looked at him, her expression shifting from disbelief to a semblance of understanding. She comprehended that he wasn't jesting.

"You're serious?" Percy nodded earnestly, confirming his statement. Her surprise was palpable. "I'm Reyna," she introduced herself. Percy offered a sheepish wave in response, evoking a faint smile from her at his silliness. It was the first smile she'd worn in a long while.

"I'm Percy," he reciprocated. Her eyes gleamed with recognition.

"I know you. You destroyed my home a while back." Percy's brows furrowed in confusion. Her explanation cleared the fog. "Circe's island," she clarified, glaring daggers at him.

"She turned me into a guinea pig," Percy confessed with a tinge of exasperation, his frustration evident.

Reyna remained silent, her nod acknowledging his words, with the world on the brink of collapse, it was hardly the time now to pursue useless vendettas. "What's the last thing you remember before waking up?" she inquired, a spark of curiosity lighting her gaze. "Can you recall the day?"

"I remember going to sleep in the Poseidon cabin. I think it was December 13th." Her reaction was a revelation, her eyes widening in astonishment.

"I'm not sure of the current date, but nearly a year has passed since then," she revealed solemnly. Her words hung heavily in the air, each one a testament to the tumultuous events that had transpired in Percy's absence.

So Reyna explained everything to Percy, how she was a daughter of Bellona, she explained how the gods had two forms, one Greek and one Roman. How there used to be another camp on the other side of the United States called Camp Jupiter where these Roman demigods and their families lived. She explained that she used to be the leader of this camp and helped defeat the Titans, that after this war had finished a race called the gigantes. Children of Gaea and Tartarus rose and began spreading their wrath across the Earth. It had started when her fellow Praetor had been murdered in cold blood by someone who she now knew to be possessed.

A look of sorrow crossed her face as she explained how she unknowingly killed an innocent demigod. She continued on, explaining how Gaea had used the blood of two demigods to rise and take over the world. Her children and them started with destroying the camps alongside an army of monsters. Every demigod and person they captured were killed without mercy. Then with the gods weakened from the deaths of all their children they reduced Olympus to rubble. Many of the gods faded after that, but there were still some that remained.

They then systematically hunted down all of them that remained, Reyna along with a few Romans fled into hiding. They decimated cities and killed all of the mortals that existed. She explained how they had somehow traversed the country, more than likely with the help of Reyna's mother Bellona. They met Greek demigods and traveled together, finding out about how the gods had two forms and there was another camp. One that was currently being used by the giants as a base of sorts. She recalled the Greeks talking about him vanishing, but many just assumed he had been dead for a long time. She discussed how their ranks were slowly shrinking and shrinking as the demigods were slowly killed off by the giants and the many monsters roaming the Earth until only Reyna remained.

"It is quite possible that we're the last two humans on Earth." She finished.

Annabeth. The thought of her name echoed in Percy's mind, a bittersweet pang of longing and sadness tugging at his heartstrings. He yearned to believe that she was still alive, somewhere out there, but the grim reality seemed to pull at his hope, suggesting otherwise. Despite the uncertainty, he clung to his determination to fight—for Annabeth, for his mother, for Grover, and for every innocent life that had been extinguished by Gaea and her monstrous offspring.

A steely glint ignited in Percy's sea-green eyes as he absorbed every word spoken by his companions. The weight of their mission, the magnitude of their fight, settled upon his shoulders like a heavy cloak. The suffering inflicted upon the world fueled a fire within him, an unquenchable resolve to bring justice to the fallen and to protect those who remained.

"How do we kill them?" Percy's voice was firm, his hands clenched into fists as he confronted the brutal reality of their situation. The images of destruction and death flashed before his mind's eye, igniting a determination to take down these giants and end their reign of terror.

Reyna's response held a somber truth, a stark revelation that sent a chill down Percy's spine. "They cannot be killed, only a god and demigod working together can defeat them." she declared, her voice heavy with the weight of defeat. The hopelessness in her words reverberated through the air, casting a shadow over their desperate situation. Percy's fists tightened further as he grappled with the weight of the revelation. The idea that their enemy was immortal and beyond traditional defeat threatened to crush their spirits.

"You don't believe that, otherwise you wouldn't be fighting anymore." Percy's retort was fierce, a challenge hurled at the daughter of Bellona. His own determination and unwavering resolve served as a mirror to her inner conflict. He refused to accept defeat, to bow to the notion that they were powerless against this darkness. "We can do this," Percy asserted with conviction, his voice resolute. "We can find a way, figure out a strategy. We owe it to everyone who's been lost to keep fighting, to find a way to end this."

Reyna's gaze locked onto Percy's, a subtle shift in her expression that he couldn't quite decipher. Her eyes seemed to search his, probing his determination, perhaps finding something that resonated with her own struggle. "Very well," she replied, her tone changing, a hint of newfound confidence seeping into her words. "Let's find a way to permanently end their threat."

As the weight of their mission settled upon their shoulders, Percy found himself unable to suppress the weariness that had been building within him. "First, rest," Reyna suggested, her tone a mix of practicality and concern. "We'll begin planning in the morning. This won't be an easy journey, and success is far from guaranteed."

With that, Reyna retreated into a nearby room, leaving Percy alone with his thoughts. He sighed, allowing his body to relax onto one of the cots that lined the room. As he closed his eyes, exhaustion enveloped him, and for a moment, he expected sleep to elude him. Yet, to his surprise, slumber came swiftly, wrapping its comforting embrace around him.

In his dream, Percy found himself in a realm of shifting images and distorted landscapes. The world around him trembled, as if reality itself were wavering. He stood on an iceberg, the ice beneath his feet shivering like a fragile illusion. The scenery flickered, fragments of the dream breaking apart like fractured memories.

The dream was unstable, yet vivid. Percy's surroundings morphed, and he found himself abruptly thrust into an ice-made structure. Before him stood a shadowy figure, bound by chains of ice—a prisoner in this strange, ethereal domain. On the figure's right, a legion of shades hovered, their forms flickering in and out of existence. One shade held a golden staff crowned with an eagle, a symbol of authority.

As the dream fragmented once more, a colossal giant emerged to Percy's left. Towering at a staggering forty feet, the giant's metallic gold skin gleamed, contrasting with his rust-colored dragon legs. He donned armor adorned with precious gems and stones, his hair flowing like a cascade of red waves.

Amidst the swirling chaos, a weak, feminine voice reached Percy's ears. Fragments of words formed a cryptic message that barely penetrated the dream's distorted fabric:

"Alaska…"

"Hubbard Glacier…"

"Free Death…"

"Alcyoneus… kill…"

The voice wavered, as if struggling to bridge the gap between realms and convey its urgency. The dream shifted once more, revealing a young girl by a dying fire. Flames flickered, smoke curling skyward, creating an eerie atmosphere. Percy recognized the girl—the embodiment of the goddess Hestia.

"Lady Hestia," Percy whispered, his voice resonating with respect and concern. The dream's clarity deepened, the ethereal image of Hestia materializing before him, her form emanating warmth despite her apparent frailty.

A look of pain etched on her face that caused Percy to worry greatly. "My lady, what's wrong?"

Hestia's eyes, flickering with flames, held a weariness that tugged at Percy's heart. She smiled, her gesture filled with affection, even as her presence seemed to wane. The urgency in her words sent ripples through the dream, conveying a desperate need to communicate.

"I've used my remaining strength to reach you, dear child," Hestia's voice carried a fragility that resonated deeply within Percy. "After our conversation, I will fade from this existence." She coughed violently. The golden ichor that dripped from her lips painted a somber picture of her condition. Percy's protective instincts kicked in as he rushed forward, catching her before she could collapse. Concern etched his features as he held the goddess in his arms, the feeling of her presence tangible, as if she were truly there.

"Why?" Percy's voice trembled with emotion, tears forming in his eyes as he grappled with the weight of Hestia's sacrifice. "Why would you do this, knowing it would cause you to fade?"

Hestia's gaze held a mixture of compassion and determination, her touch warm against Percy's cheek. Her response held a truth that resonated deeply within him. "You needed to know where to start," she explained, her words laced with a selflessness that moved him. "All hope is not lost, Percy. Because of you, the hearth still burns."

As Hestia's form wavered and her presence began to fade, Percy's heart ached. He reached out to hold onto her, to preserve this fleeting connection, but she slipped through his grasp. Tears streamed down Percy's cheeks as he watched the goddess's form dissolve into a bright orange glow that seeped into him, infusing him with warmth and determination.

Hello! So this story is going to be a Percy and Reyna story as they try to defeat Gaea once and for all. It will be mostly in their POVs, another character may have a POV at some point but Percy and Reyna are the main characters of this story.

Thanks for reading and please review!

Have a great day!