Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson or Danmachi.
( - )
(Last Time)
The undead were some of the more unpleasant monsters to fight.
Looking out from around the corner, her gaze quickly came to rest on three pallid corpses.
They were covered in blood and had gaping wounds on their bodies.
Her eyes narrowed.
More importantly, the bodies were half-naked, which meant someone had already looted them.
Which meant they could be dealing with another band of Xenos.
Or a group of vicious adventurers that gleefully preyed on their own kind.
Both were possible.
"Come on," She said softly into the silence. "We press forward, but be careful. We don't yet know what lurks out there in the dark."
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Chapter 3
( - )
(With Percy)
He didn't know how long he had been walking – time had lost all meaning in the never-ending gloom. But it felt like it had been a long time.
No matter how far he walked though, or which way he turned, the caverns seemed to go on forever. It felt like he was making no progress, as aside from the occasional cosmetic change, everything around him looked the same.
Letting out a low groan, Percy, for that is who he knew he was, slowed his already slow pace and looked around.
The surrounding air smelt stale and foul – though admittedly that could also be him.
His jaw worked up and down as he eyed his surroundings with his empty glowing eye sockets. The cavern walls were damp. He could see vines and roots protruding from cracks in the ceiling. It looked the same as every other part of the tunnel system. The only things that seemed to change were the occasional fresh cracks or breaks in the walls, and the sporadic, mostly rotted, bodies or mouldering piles of bones, that cropped up now and then.
He hadn't yet come across a single other living being during his wanderings.
Groaning and grumbling at his lack of progress, he turned and looked back at the way he had come.
He couldn't see much, due to his poor eyesight and the all-encompassing mist and gloom around him.
Taking a ragged breathing – and ignoring the whistle of the air as it flowed through his shredded throat and lungs – he tried to strain his newly recovered hearing.
His eyesight was poor, and his sense of touch and taste was terrible. But his hearing and sense of smell though, were both surprisingly sharp – more so than he remembered them being even when he was actually alive.
It was odd, especially considering he didn't have much in the way of either a nose or ears at the moment.
It was almost as if his new form was magically adapted to existing in the dark dank tunnels around him.
Listening to the silence and parsing out his own ragged, whistling breathing – at this point it felt more intuitive than something he needed to do. He cocked his head as he heard the distant thud of what could be several sets of feet. Stiffening, he focused his attention on the faraway sound. He could also pick up the occasional sound of something sharp scrapping across a hard surface.
It was faint, so faint in fact that he doubted he would have been able to pick it up when he was still alive.
Wheeling about on his booted feet, he awkwardly drew his sword.
His fingers felt stiff as he tightened his grip on the familiar hilt, and his arms felt weak.
Lifting his sword, he unsteadily readied himself for a fight, his empty socket staring into the surrounding darkness.
There was more than one of them.
He could near hear multiple… somethings, approaching. Some of them seemed to be heavier than others, and some had more than two legs….
Monsters.
He clenched his mouth together in either a lipless snarl or a manic smile.
More monsters meant more gemstones, which meant more power, and more potential to evolve into something which might better resemble his true self.
His eyes gleamed a sharp, glowing green as the approaching beings drew closer.
There were a lot of them… so many that he might not be able to face them head-on.
An unfamiliar sensation… doubt… loomed within his muddied thoughts.
Was he even strong enough to fight multiple monsters at the same time? Especially considering he didn't even know what these monsters were.
His memories were still fragmented but he could recall coming across and fighting multiple different kinds of monsters in these tunnels.
Sometimes he won handily but at other times he and his fellow skeletons were slaughtered and shattered into fragments.
Likewise, he could remember many instances where he had successfully slain the living warriors that trawled through the caverns in search of glory.
But as he thought on it, he could also remember just as many instances where he himself was slain with brutal and contemptible ease.
The doubt within him grew, even as the approaching monsters drew progressively closer.
How much stronger had he grown since his evolution?
Now that he took a moment to think on the matter. He even wasn't sure where he stacked up against the monsters that he remembered fighting anymore. He knew he could feel in his bones that he was much weaker than he had been when he was alive. The difficulty he was having welding Anaklusmos was enough to tell him that much.
He let a soft involuntary groan.
And what would happen to him if he did die? Would he come back to life again like he had many times in the past?
Would he be reborn within the walls of the caverns and burst out of the rocks the same being that he was now?
Or would his newly rediscovered awareness be killed alongside his body, with his next incarnation being as mindless as the one that had come before him?
He didn't know the answer to any of those questions.
Facing off against an unknown foe. Especially multiple unknown foes. Was just too dangerous. Now that he had started to remember who he had once been, he couldn't give that up. No, not couldn't, wouldn't.
A long-forgotten sensation flared up within him.
Panic.
Looking at his surroundings he tried to search for any convenient cracks in the walls that he could slip into. There were none. Nor were there any offshoot routes he could flee down. Instead, there was only the way he had come, and the tunnel behind him, which was just a long, straight stretch.
He was trapped. Especially since the ones approaching him seemed to be moving faster than he could awkwardly shuffle.
Desperately trying to master his growing panic he sidled to the side of the tunnel and leaned against the wall. Hunching down he hid his glowing bronze sword behind his back and pretended to be just another rotting body, wearing damaged, bloodstained clothing – which was essentially what he was.
Hopefully, if he kept quiet and prayed to whatever god his panic-stricken mind could remember the approaching monsters might pass him by.
Lowering his head, and shutting his non-existent eyes, he prayed to the first two gods his muddled mind unearthed, his father… Poseidon, and his aunt… Hestia.
A flicker of warmth appeared in his gut, as his muddled mind dredged up long-forgotten memories of a smiling tanned man with wild dark hair, vibrant green eyes and a penchant for obnoxious floral shirts. The warmth within him grew hotter as the memory of a smiling, kind-hearted woman with auburn hair and gentle orange eyes overlaid itself with the image of his father.
His desiccated flesh tingled, and his atrophied organs squirmed.
A hiss of no doubt foul-smelling air whistled through his lipless mouth as he clung to what few positive memories he could and calmed his racing thoughts.
Mastering himself he listened as the footsteps grew closer.
They were so close now that he could hear them reverberating off the surrounding walls.
He could do this.
So long as he stayed calm, and remained quiet and unseen, the monsters would hopefully just pass him by.
( - )
His withered hands tightened into clenched fists as the footsteps drew ever closer, and his legs tensed. The closer they got the clearer their footsteps became. From what he could hear there were dozens of them far too many for him to handle alone.
Clenching his teeth, he lowered his head and tried to portray himself as little more than an innocuous pile of bones and rotting flesh as the small horde of monsters finally reached his position.
A part of him, the part that was still relatively 'human' desperately wanted to look up at the horde and assuage his inner curiosity.
The other part of him. The part that was a former demigod wanted to grab his sword and charge recklessly into the midst of the monsters. To challenge his might against them and prove himself the greater.
The rational side of him though. The one who remembered the horrors that dwelled within the labyrinthine depths of his subterranean home wanted nothing more than to shrink into himself and hope that they just passed him by.
Fortunately, the rational side won out over the other more reckless side of his existence.
Keeping his head lowered he sensed more than felt as the first figure brushed past him. The repetitive click-clacks of its multiple legs reverberated around the cramped tunnel as it continued forward.
Only for it to suddenly stop right next to his position.
His hands, tucked behind his back, clenched into fists as he gripped the hilt of his hidden blade tighter.
He wasn't in the best position to act but if push came to shove, he would fight for his newly discovered consciousness with every fibre of his undead being.
"Stop," a soft, yet firm voice sounded out above him. The tone was decidedly female, and far too human sounding to belong to a typical monster.
At her command, the troop of monsters following behind her shuffled to a halt.
From where he was crouched up against the wall, he could hear some of them grumble and murmur to each other.
They too sounded almost human. Some of the voices had odd intonations or sounded slightly too husky, or growly to be truly human. But there was definite intelligence in those voices. And not just intelligence like the low, sly cunning most monsters retained, the kind that allowed them to ambush and trick the unwary.
Beside him, the leader of the group shifted about on her many legs.
He also heard her sniff the air.
"The scent of blood is stronger here," the woman said softly. She stood just in front of him. So close that if he reached out, he would probably be able to touch her.
"That's because you're standing next to a corpse," a dry, gravelly voice rasped out from behind her.
"Yes, but it's not a fresh corpse. Its flesh has already started to rot… and yet it doesn't smell like decay. But instead like fresh blood." The woman answered calmly.
The other speaker audibly scented the air too. "You're right."
The woman didn't reply. "I also find it interesting that the clothing this corpse is wearing isn't as rotten as the rest of it. Instead, the bloodstains on its garb seems… fresh. Do any of you remember how some of the bodies we passed further down the passage were stripped of their clothing…."
If he still had eyes, Percy would have first rolled them – the woman wasn't being at all subtle with her insinuations – and then he would have clenched them shut as he geared himself for what would happen next.
He had only just returned to some semblance of life, and he was prepared to fight to the last to keep it.
Keeping that thought in mind and with a soundless snarl he lunged to his feet his head raised and his empty eye sockets ablaze with glowing green energy.
The bones in his leg creaked at his sudden movement, and his arms clicked as he swung Anaklusmos up and around at the monster closest to him.
If this was to be his last stand then he would make it count and take as many of the fuckers with him as he could.
A loud clang sounded out as his sword met the metal haft of some kind of polearm.
Looking up at the resistance, the first thing he saw was red.
Amused, crimson-red eyes peered out from behind a visored helm and bore into his own.
Snarling, he tried to jerkily sidestep the woman.
Unfortunately, he was both too slow and she was too large for him to easily do so.
With an idle swing of her weapon, she blocked his second strike and sent his sword swinging wide as she forced him back so his back hit the wall of the tunnel.
His bony hands tightened on Anaklusmos's familiar hilt as he gripped it with both hands for extra power.
The woman in front of him was taller than him… sort of. Her eyes were a piercing red and her skin, from what little of it that wasn't covered by a cuirass and visored helm, was the colour of freshly fallen snow. But surprisingly those features weren't the most striking thing about her. Instead, the most striking thing was that her lower body was that of a gigantic spider.
Arachne.
The name came to him in an instant slicing through his panic and fury as a new memory surfaced.
He remembered a cold, shadowy room. A large, austere-looking statue. The feeling of anger and panic. And finally, the image of a beautiful, dark-haired woman with piercing green eyes and the lower body of a gigantic spider. She had been a human once, like him. Only for her to anger the wrong goddess. And get cursed to become a monster for her troubles.
A sharp lance of pain shot through his head at the memory, forcing him to let out a gasp which in turn made air whistle through his shredded throat.
Raising his sword, he prepared to once again throw himself into combat, regardless of how futile his chances were.
The Arachne in his memories looked different to the one before him, she was larger by far and felt far more monstrous. But despite those differences, his vague, fractured memories made one thing clear. Arachne as a person had been every bit as monstrous as she had looked.
"Peace friend," the woman said, her tone strong and calming as she lowered her weapon and raised one of her gauntleted hands. "We do not wish to fight you. But should you attack me again? I will defend myself."
Her words made him pause.
Behind the woman, he could see an entire array of monsters. Some of them he recognised either from the memories of his first life or from the many lives he had lived in the labyrinth. But many of them were also unfamiliar.
One of those he didn't recognise was a large, stone-grey, anthropomorphic, draconic being who had the claws on its hands extended and ready to shred him to pieces. Another was a small white, rabbit-like creature with pink eyes, floppy ears and an oddly dapper-looking blue coat.
They were monsters.
But they didn't look or act like the monsters he remembered, or at least not the ones from his second life.
Instead, they acted more like some of the monsters he could recall from his time as Percy Jackson. In that, they seemed to have some semblance of intelligence and personality. After all, some of the ones he remembered fighting back then had been able to speak too and had obvious intelligence. Not that that necessarily made them any better than the beings that predated the very tunnels he had once prowled as a vengeful skeleton.
It did make him stop and wonder though. Were these monsters like him, and Arachne too for that matter? Had they once been human, and had only later been turned into monsters?
'Who are you?' He tried to say. Only for it instead to come out a garbled mess. More like a growl or a groan than actual speech.
The woman tilted her head to the side and gestured for those behind her to back up a bit. Her eyes shifted to Anaklusmos for a moment before settling on his empty eye sockets.
"Try again," she said softly, almost encouragingly. "I know it might be difficult. But take your time and try to sound out each part individually. We were all in your position once."
"W…ho..," He tried again, "Who. You."
"Who are we?" The woman asked, her head still tilted to one side. "We are like you. Once we were all monsters. Mindless and vicious. But now we have intelligence, and through much work and hardship, we have forged a society here in the Dungeon. A society that teaches newer and younger Xenos and protects them from both Adventurers and rabid monsters alike."
A society of monsters? Percy tilted his head to the side. It sounded contradictory. How could monsters exist in a society, let alone create one of their own? Only, she hadn't referred to them, and by inference him, as monsters. Instead, she had called them Xenos. Not human, not a monster, but instead a Xeno. Is that what he was?
"I won't force you to come with us or join us." The woman continued. "But I will offer to let you come with us if you wish. If you do, we can take you to safety and help you come to terms with your new circumstances. Everyone you see here was once like you. All of us woke up in the Dungeon scared and alone with only the vague memories of our more monstrous reincarnations for company. We understand what you are going through and can help. If you let us."
The woman offered him her gauntleted hand.
Those around her backed off to give them room. Noticeably many of them kept staring at him. Thankfully though none of them moved to interfere with him or intimidate him.
Glancing at those behind her, and then refocusing on the woman in front of him, Percy tried to consider his options.
If they truly meant him harm, then they could easily kill him or capture him. Considering their numbers and his current condition, he did not doubt their ability to do whatever they wished with him. This meant that there was no point in attempting to trick or manipulate him not when they already held all the advantages.
Despite this realisation, however, he couldn't help but remember his former instincts as a human. Monsters should always be treated with caution.
Yes, some monsters could be good, but most were bad.
Sure, it was possible that he had gotten lucky and come across a bunch of good ones.
But at the same time, he wasn't sure.
The woman kept her hand open and outstretched toward him.
He eyed it warily for a moment, his gaze once again flicking to the dozens of monstrous beings surrounding him.
With a large dose of caution and self-recrimination, he slowly took the hand offered.
He hoped that he was making the right decision.
"Welcome friend," the woman said in response, tightening her grip on his bony hand. "My name is Ranke, and I'd like to think that we're going to become good friends."
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AN: I'm honestly surprised how many are actually reading this story, especially considering how weird it is compared to a lot of other Danmachi stories.
Still, your giving it a chance and reading is appreciated. Thanks.
Also, since I've been somewhat AWOL for a while, especially on this account, I've been thinking of picking up one of my old stories from my Seagate and resuming it, and hopefully taking on to finish it. With that in mind, are there any preferences or suggestions, you have a week to decide and then I'll pick one and start working on it once more.
Cheers for reading.
Seagate.