A/N. Reviews.
"Hey man I feel that Percy is Hella underpowered in terms of being a King Of Hell. One really cool idea I just had is that God (Christian) visits Percy and awakens powers meant for the ruler of Hell. Also any mention on the 7 Deadly Sins?" -ahyanaqueel
That's kinda the whole point. That's why he keeps having to fight, because he IS underpowered. God in this fic is definitely NOT doing that. And yes, this chapter in fact.
"Yessss! This is fantastic!" -Liamtheharrypotterfan
Thank you!
Chapter Seven
It was often said that Angels danced on the head of a pin. However, Angels are not the dancing type, trading the moves for swordplay. The Angels are God's warriors, the first line of defense against sin and its corrupting nature.
As time waged forward, as it does, without stop, without care, and more defenses against sin were erected, Angels were slowly rendered obsolete. And with the revelation, angels found a new purpose—praise of their father.
So no, Angels don't dance, they sing. But if they danced, the head of the pin they danced on would be Heaven. A silver city floating in a black sea of nothingness. The brightest light in the darkest dark. A pristine city that held a dirty past.
The angels were a warrior type, and a history of war had rained down on the streets of Heaven. Two, specifically. The first had been the exile of the Demons, the ones now called the Eldest. The second being the revolution Lucifer had led, blinded by his pride and ambitions. It was a simple battle really, a march towards the central, tallest tower in Heaven on which sat the Primum Mobile—The Throne of God.
Lucifer sought the Throne, and led half of Heaven's Angels towards it. After the chaos, after Lucifer and his army's Fall, was the rebuilding. Of everything but the Primum Mobile. It was the shining beacon that led the Angels through the rebuilding process, reminding them of what they fought for.
For millions of years, the tower stood, Angels going in and out, singing, praising their Lord. Until the tower was closed off.
Not long after, the Archangel Gabriel touched down, his wings folding behind him. Gabriel was an angel of stocky build–Almost all of them were. Muscles built from fighting and building. But Gabriel had something the rest of them didn't. Speed. He was faster than them all, a skill he built from running messages. The Messenger of God he was.
And he had a message.
He set off for the Primum Mobile. He hadn't visited his home in forever, always having a message to deliver. Despite this, he didn't remember the Silver City having such a somber mood to it. The city itself seemed dull.
He reached the stairs that led up to the Primum Mobile. As he neared he noticed one of his brothers was sitting on the stairs, his head on his hands. His wings, with feathers like those of a peacock, were dropping, falling beside him. A halo, pure white, hovered above his head, its light dimmed considerably.
"Brother Raphael. What ails you?"
The Angel, identified as Raphael, looked up. "Father has forsaken us, brother."
"You speak blasphemy."
"Nay. Observe for yourself." Raphael stood up and pointed to the top of the stairs, where the doors to the room that housed the Primum Mobile was shut. "The doors just shut, without warning."
Gabriel sighed. "I believe I may know the reason why."
"Aye?"
The Messenger nodded solemnly. "Lucifer has been slain."
"Impossible."
"Tis. I felt his soul leave the Hellish plane."
"But he couldn't have. He is to be slain in thousands of years by Michael."
"I do not pretend to know how or why it has happened, but only that it has."
The doors of the Primum Mobile opened,drawing the attention of both angels. Their father appeared on the top of the stairs. "Gabriel." Yahweh's voice was deep, sounding like rolling thunder.
Gabriel turned to Raphael, who raised his hand. "We will speak later. Answer Father's summons."
The Messenger of God started up the steps. Beginning the long trek. He reached the top after a few minutes, reaching his Father. Yahweh led him into the room. The room itself was plain, a silver box with a large silver throne in the center.
"What is it you need, Father?"
"Do you, Gabriel, know how much I have planned for the future?"
"Everything, Father. You have planned out everything."
"Exactly. And despite this, it appears that something has changed my plans, rendered them obsolete. I now have to improvise."
Gabriel stood silent.
"I have a job for you, Gabriel."
"Anything, Father." Gabriel said, bowing his head.
"I have heard rumors of someone replacing our dearly beloved Lucifer down in Hell. I want you to find out who it is. Who has disrupted my carefully laid out plans. And see if they are willing to cooperate."
"Your will be done, Father." Gabriel said, before walking out of the room.
LINE BREAK
Mephistopheles led Percy down the East Wing of the castle, a place that Percy had seldom explored. It wasn't that he avoided it intentionally, it was just that there was nothing there that he ever needed. It was mostly just guest rooms after all. Whatever constituted a guest down here, Percy didn't know, and he shuddered to think about it.
The East Wing was a long hallway with, as previously mentioned, guest rooms lining either side like some kind of Hellish hotel. There was a break in rooms for a stairwell that led to, probably, more rooms. At the end of the hallway, two more hallways went left and right before turning around a corner, going back the way they came. In front of them was a pair of double doors made of blackstone, with glowing orange veins of fire cracking through. The door handles were made of polished gold.
Mephistopheles stood behind Percy. The King reached out to open the door, but the butler stopped him.
"My Lord. The Princes, they can be… quite jarring. Azazel, especially. Just remember, you are their King as well."
Percy nodded before pushing open the doors. In the room was a circular table, with eight thrones around it. All of them were the same, stone chairs carved from basalt. Seven of them were taken, leaving only one seat at the far end of the table.
Percy took his place, Mephistopheles standing next to the chair. The King looked around, studying each demon. The one to his left looked like a large overgrown goblin with green skin, a long white beard, and two black horns protruding from the sides of his head. His ears were pointy and hairy, reminding Percy of Yoda from Empire Strikes Back. A barbed tail protruded from its ass. "Belphegor." Mephistopheles introduced. The demon lazily returned the greeting with a wave of his hand. "He represents the sin of Sloth."
Sitting next to Belphegor was a giant red man wearing nothing but a loincloth. He had pitch black eyes and large black horns. He had a very pronounced underbite, looking almost like a bulldog. "Satan. Representing the sin of Wrath." Satan stared at Percy for a second, before grinning. His eyes seemed to shimmer with delight.
Next to him was a really big fly. In every way. It had the eyes, the wings, the fuzzy black body. It did that thing flies did where it looked like it was rubbing its head. "Beelzebub, representing the sin of Gluttony." The demon fly spit up some weird substance on the table.
"Come on Belbz, really? In front of our new guest?" Said the demon next to him. The first of the Princes to speak. He spoke clearly and almost condescendingly. The last part seemed to be aimed directly at Percy, who didn't like the way the demon was looking at him.
The giant fly made a buzzing sound that didn't sound too apologetic, before promptly eating the substance, leaving the table the way it was before.
The demon next to Beelzebub, the one looking at Percy in a strange way, was very humanlike, to the point he reminded Percy of Lucifer. He had super pale skin, as white as paper and long flowing pitch black hair. He was shirtless, showing a super defined muscular frame. Pitch black wings, matching his hair, stretched from his back, each feather looked like it had been plucked from a raven. "Azazel." He introduced himself. "Pride." A cold grin spread across his face, treading a fine line between a smile and a sneer.
Percy mentally noted this was the Prince Mephistopheles had warned him about.
Next to Azazel was another humanoid who looked like an old Julius Caesar, if Caesar was also a frail old man. He wore purple robes, a very expensive looking necklace made of gold and diamonds. Numerous rings made of various metals adorned his fingers. He had silver grills on his teeth. "Mammon." Mephistopheles said. "The sin of Greed."
Sitting next to Mammon was a snake. A huge snake. Its scales shifted from green to blue to black, like it was camouflaging itself to the different shades of water. It had two large gray eyes, with slits for pupils. It opened its mouth to reveal two large fangs. "Leviathan. Representing the sin of Envy."
The last demon, sitting between Leviathan and Percy, was a three headed, fat troll with three heads. One of a sheep, one of a man, and one of a bull. In that order. Even his human face wasn't all that humanlike, with pointed ears, a hooked nose, jagged teeth, and dead eyes. He had the chest of a man, but below the waist was another orgy of animals, as he had the legs of a rooster and the tail of a lizard. "Asmodeus, representing the sin of Lust."
"Princes, this is our new King, Perseus."
Azazel was the first to speak. "You're mortal." He turned to Mephistopheles. "You're telling me a mortal defeated Lucifer?"
"You were there, I saw you, all of you." Percy said, his face stoic. "So either you saw it and you're asking stupid questions, or you're just blind."
Next to him, Mephistopheles grinned slightly. Percy had taken his warning to heart. Despite his reluctance to be Hell's Sovereign, the kid had taken to the role extremely quickly. He felt pride for him, but not like Azazel's pride, more akin to that of a father proud of his son.
"Oh I saw. I also hear, and I hear cries in the street, cries that you, Perseus, are a False King." Azazel leaned forward. "Are they right?"
Percy leaned forward as well while responding, "You wanna find out?" A hard steel edge in his voice.
Satan grinned. "Yes." He muttered. He appeared to be salivating.
Percy turned his head to look at the red giant. "What?" He asked, not losing the edge in his voice.
"Your wrath tastes phenomenal. I can taste the destruction it will bring."
That made stop responding for a brief moment. He decided on "Okay," before turning back to Azazel, who was staring at Percy intensely. The Son of Poseidon was starting to understand the demon's deal. Azazel's whole schtick was Pride, and his ego couldn't bear the thought of being subordinate to a mortal, someone lesser than himself. He would have to deal.
After a couple of seconds of no one saying anything, Percy spoke up. "Y'all called this meeting, why? Just a meet and greet? Cause if so, sorry to break your hearts, but y'all aren't exactly greeting."
"It was indeed, as you called it, a meet and greet." Asmodeus said. "And I apologize on their behalf."
Percy studied the Prince of Lust. For someone who's whole thing was Lust, ain't no way this guy was getting any. But, he held his tongue, having run his mouth too often in the past to know that making a comment wouldn't help any matters now. He had already let a few slip when verbally sparring with Azazel, and he didn't think any of it endeared him to the Princes.
Except for Belphegor, who looked disinterested in the entirety of everything. The Prince of Sloth was probably only there for formality's sake, as he was the literal representation of avoiding responsibility.
He nodded at Asmodeus before standing. He calmly placed his hands on the table. "Well, then if that's all, I am going to go to sleep. You're all dismissed."
The Princes all stood, except for Azazel. As everyone filed out of the room, the Prince of Pride kept his eyes on the new King of Hell.
Percy walked down the hall towards his throne room, as his room was on the other side of the castle. He wasn't lying when he said he was going to sleep. It had been a long, stressful, and emotional day. He was drained.
"You did very well, Lord Perseus. I might even go as far as to say that some of them like you." Mephistopheles said. "You're growing more into your role every day."
Percy sighed. "I guess."
He entered the throne room to find someone waiting for him. The figure stood as tall as Percy. He had the face of an older man, his face wrinkly, his hair gray. Embedded in his forehead were two horns. The ends were jagged and almost seemed to fit like puzzle pieces. Black marks, contrasting his paper white skin, flowed from the horns, and down his face, passing over his eyes, and running down his neck, disappearing beneath his broken and rusted armor. A sword, a claymore, hung at his side. Sprouting from his back was the skeleton of his wings, matching those of a bird.
Mephistopheles took a step back in shock. "Sandalphon." He gasped.
Percy knit his eyebrows together, trying to recollect if he knew that name. He did not.
"I heard, the big man, was dead." Sandalphon spoke slowly, deliberately, and softly, with a moment's pause every few words. He regarded Percy with cold eyes that somehow seemed to brim with insanity.
Percy's hand went to his pocket, where he had stashed the knife Mephistopheles had given him just an hour prior. He had a feeling where this was headed.
"The demons, are very, riled up."
"So I keep hearing."
Sandalphon took a step forward. "Why don't, you let, me, handle it?"
"As in?"
"Rest." The Fallen Angel's hand slid down to the handle of his sword.
"Are you issuing a challenge?"
The sound of the sword being pulled from its sheath filled the room. "I am."
Mephistopheles grasped Percy's shoulder. His mouth trembled as he tried to find what he wanted to say. "Good luck, Lord."
Percy pulled the knife from his pocket and breathed out slowly. He and the demon circled around each other. A list of strengths and weaknesses ran through his head. The armor was old and rusted, maybe he could use that. The sword did too. Sandalphon's head was exposed, a great boon. However, he was only using a dagger, which he never really used before, which put him at a massive disadvantage.
Sandalphon advanced before bringing a strike down at Percy's arm, testing the waters. Percy deflected with the knife and immediately regretted it. The power behind the strike was immense, akin to Ares from oh so long ago.
He tried to counter but missed. The dagger had far less reach than Riptide, and all of Percy's muscle memory was now rendered worthless.
Sandalphon swiped across, Percy had no choice but to jump back. 'What would Annabeth do?' He thought to himself. She would analyze the situation. But he had already done that, and it didn't look too good for him.
Sandalphon brought the claymore in for an overhead swing, planning to cleave Percy in half with a powerful strike. The King sidestepped and saw an opportunity. He brought the knife down on the Fallen Angel's wrist, drawing blood. His opponent countered with a strike, but Percy grabbed his wrist with both hands as best he could and with a great amount of effort, held the sword back.
The Fallen Angel headbutted Percy, knocking the demigod knot his back on the floor. Sandalphon pounced on the Son of Poseidon and started to lay punches on his face. Percy tried to block most of the strikes with his arms, but failed.
He felt skin break, and blood burst, landing on Sandalphon's face, a red to contrast the monochrome of his white and black skin. Percy, with his free hand, reached up to grasp one of the Fallen Angel's horns. He pulled with all his strength, reminding him of his fight with the minotaur at Camp Half-Blood's border.
The horn came free with a sickening CRUNCH! Black blood flew from Sandalphon's head. He stood up and groaned in pain. Percy also got up and took the opportunity to stab both the knife and horn into Sandalphon's head, giving him three horns.
Sandalphon shook his head violently, trying to shake Percy off. But the demigod was determined and held on. He pulled the knife out and stabbed the demon again. Sandalphon grabbed Percy and threw him off of him. Then he grasped the handle of the knife and pulled it out of his head. More black blood leaked out of his head. He dropped the knife, a clattering sound echoing as it met the floor.
Percy Got to his feet and pulled out Riptide, just so he wouldn't be defenseless. Sandalphon grabbed his claymore and stared the demigod down. He charged at the King as Percy brought up his sword. Instead of waiting for the attack though, he struck just as soon as the claymore was within reach. Riptide met the sword, and shattered the brittle blade. The sword continued its arc, meeting Sandalphon's skin glancing off.
Sandalphon stared down at his sword, now just a hilt. He threw the hilt down and charged at Percy, rushing at him like a bull. Percy spun out of the way and chased after him. He pushed the Fallen Angel. The demon fell, landing on Percy's throne.
Percy grabbed the demon's horn and repeatedly bashed his head against the corner of his throne multiple times, staining the chair with black blood. Sandalphon finally went limp, his face caved in, covered in black, oily, blood.
Percy let out a breath and stood up. Blood covered his suit, his red dress shirt covered in black splotches. He walked over to the knife and picked it up. He wiped the demon's blood off of it before putting it back in his pocket. He felt Riptide reappear in his other pocket.
He turned to his Royal Advisor. "I'll have the hall cleaned, Lord, do not worry. Go sleep."
Percy nodded and trudged off tiredly to his room. He opened the door and placed both the knife and Riptide on his nightstand before he stripped off his clothes and got into the shower. He scrubbed all the blood off of him, and let the water heal his wounds. When the blood stopped flowing from his body, he turned the water off and got out.
He dried himself off and put on some underwear and shorts. He excited the bathroom and got into his bed. He went to sleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, finally getting some much needed sleep.
But then the nightmare came.