The war against Gaea was going great- until it really wasn't. We had just arrived in the middle of the war, Greeks and Romans locked together as they battled for life. Gaea herself was in the middle of it, being forcibly pushed away from the camp by the Athena Parthenos. We had somehow managed to jump down just before the ship crashed, save for Leo who insisted on "going down with the ship"
"It's fine!" He had exclaimed when the g-force from Zeus spiking the ship had started to die down a little and we weren't traveling at Mach 10. "I'm immune to flames!"
Nobody had bothered correcting that he was immune to flames and not crashing, which Percy was starting to regret just now. His ADHD, while still attacking monsters often wondered where Leo was.
That thought was soon answered, as Leo burst from the wreckage, on Festus, blowtorching a couple of Stymphalian Birds out of the sky as they flew towards Gaea.
Percy's mind went on autopilot again- stab, dodge and repeat. He barely even noticed Festus carrying ugly Dirt Face up into the air, or Jason shooting sparks as Piper charmspoke Gaea into sleeping for (hopefully) all of entirety. However, he did notice when a ton of dirt fell down from the sky, bouncing into his already messy hair.
He really would have to take a shower after all of this.
With Gaea gone, the monsters seemed to lose whatever cohesion they had and began to fall back. Percy was the one to claim the final kill, against an Earthborn that seriously stunk. Like, he should really consider wearing deodorant. Percy sliced his head and he dissolved into dust. He wiped the sweat out of his face, turning around for any new enemies. There were none. Percy considered feeling joyful, but he'd rather just relax into his bed, cuddled with Annabeth. He was tired for celebrations, tired for, well, anything, really. Several cheers rang out from the camp. They had won! That was easy!
Never tempt the fates.
Oceanus, alongside several of his titan brothers and thousands of monsters appeared seemingly out of nowhere.
There were outnumbered.
Several hundred to one.
Leo was dead, and the gods were nowhere to be seen.
Groaning tiredly, Percy readied his sword and began to charge at the horde of monsters.