His first conscious thought was that he was uncomfortable. Immensely uncomfortable. There was something sharp and jagged digging into the meat of his thigh, and he was pretty sure half of his head was buried in a pool of water. He tried opening his eyes, but the task was insurmountable for the moment, so he continued to lay still on the ground. He could hear the rapid movement of water somewhere off in the distance, and the crashing of water on rocks. A waterfall perhaps?

Had he been in a jungle? Somewhere mountainous? He didn't think so, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized that he couldn't remember where he was or even how he'd gotten there. The last thing he remembered was getting a message from Nico…something about something weird going on in the Underworld.

But then…nothing.

Nothing except one sentence. One phrase, which reverberated like church bells in his ears.

"Get to the bottom."

The voice was toneless. Expressionless. He couldn't place the owner of the voice, or where he'd heard it from, only that he had most certainly heard it. But that was all. Just that one sentence. For everything else, it was as though he'd simply fallen asleep, and anything that had occurred between then and now hadn't happened at all. But that couldn't be right. So then what had happened? and where was he?

But then all other thoughts escaped his mind as, almost as if someone had flipped a switch, his body was violently wracked with unimaginable pain. All encompassing, mind-numbing pain. He couldn't even open his mouth to scream, and he doubted anything would have come of it anyway. It felt as though someone were dragging white-hot knives along every muscle fiber and nerve-ending in his body. He could have sworn that he could feel bones break, tendons and muscles stretch and tear then re-form only for the process to start over again in a wave of fresh agony. But the pain wasn't restricted to his musculature. Behind his eyes, a burst of searing heat roared to life, as though someone were taking a blow torch directly to the backs of his eyes. His lungs constricted and he could feel his mouth open and close in a continuous, silent wail of utter agony.

Then, in a flash, it was over. His chest heaved as he took in a hulking breath after hulking breath of fresh air. His world still dark, he continued to lay on the ground, desperately trying to come to terms with just what the hell had just happened to him. Was…was he in…

He violently squashed that idea before it could fully form. There was no way he could be down there again. He would know. Would have been able to feel it. The pit had a way of imposing its oppressive aura on a person. But if not that, then what? Had…had it all been in his own mind? Had he simply imagined it? He didn't think the human mind could conjure physical reactions like what he'd just experienced. It had been too visceral. Too real to be anything but.

But then…he had an odd realization. As his heart slowly stopped racing, and he was able to breathe a little easier, he realized that he felt…good. In fact, he felt better than good. He didn't know if he'd ever felt this good in his entire life. Not even the Curse of Achilles had left him feeling this good. This strong. This…powerful. But it wasn't just his body that felt good, he felt connected to world around him in a way that he'd never experienced before.

As he'd grown older, and as his abilities grew with him, he'd felt more connected to the natural world. Chiron had told him that it was a product of his father's domain. He'd always been able to point to the nearest body of water. Had always been able to sense the smallest changes in air pressure leading to a storm. But this…this was something else entirely. It was like he could feel every drop of water dripping from the ceiling. Could feel every particulate in a nearby river. Gods, he could all but see the nearby river even with his eyes closed, appearing like a strange blue hue in the corner of his eye. It was all so disorienting and he was glad that he was still laying down, because the room around him began to spin at the sudden influx of information.

He focused on the puddle of water he was still half laying, allowing the cool comfort of the water lapping at his temple to soothe his anxieties. After a couple of minutes of silent contemplation, the room spin had stopped and he was able to try opening his eyes once more.

This time he was successful.

His vision swam a bit at first, seeing nothing but a kaleidoscope of shapes and shades of dark blacks and blues. But after a minute, his vision steadied and found himself staring up at the craggy ceiling of what had to be a cave. A cluster of nearby stalactites cast an ethereal blue glow throughout the cave, casting odd-looking shadows across the rocky walls. He blinked a few times, hauling himself out of the puddle to sit against the cave wall. The moment his head pulled away from the small puddle he'd been lying in, a deep soreness reverberated around his body, and he couldn't quite stop the quiet groan of discontent that escaped him. Repositioning himself against the wall so he could dip his hand in the puddle, he sighed in relief as the soreness quickly dissipated. Glancing around the cave, he realized he was in a small cavern within the cave. He was pressed against the far wall, gazing at the inky blackness of the only exit to and from the small room.

"What the hell is happening?" He leaned his head back against the wall and tried once more to try and remember what had happened to bring him here. But, just like before, he could only remember one thing. That one damnable sentence.

"Get to the bottom."

Get to the bottom of what? This cave? Why? And why couldn't he remember who'd said it in the first place?

Grunting in frustration, he felt something shift around in the pocket of his jeans and he frowned. Shoving his free hand into his pocket, he felt relief wash over him as he pulled a small pen out. Anaklusmos. A divine blade made of celestial metal. He didn't know why the sight of the weapon brought such relief. It was literally enchanted to never leave him, but knowing that he at least had a weapon on him was always something of a comfort.

A demigod could never know where the next fight would take place after all.

With a flick of his thumb, he flipped the cap off the pen and delighted as the beautiful, leaf-shaped bladed sprung into life in his palm. But his delight soon turned to horror as the blade burst into a pile of bright black ash in the palm of his hand.

He didn't move.

He didn't breathe.

He closed his eyes, opened them again, and felt his stomach fall out of his shoes as he realized that his eyes were not deceiving him.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no," he chanted over and over again, pulling his hand free from the puddle to scramble through the darkened ash. He had to be dreaming. Had to. There was no way, no conceivable way that this was actually happening. For over a decade Percy had been the master of that blade. He'd fought against gods, giants, titans, monsters from every corner of the planet and beyond and nothing he'd ever encountered had the power to simply disintegrate celestial bronze like that. It was a divine metal for the gods' sake! His heart hammered in his chest and he forced himself back against the wall, trying desperately to keep his breathing even and steady as anxiety threaten to overwhelm him.

He closed his eyes and tried to focus on what he knew. He knew he was in a cave. He knew that he was hurting. He knew that he was unarmed and gods only knew where, with gods only knew what crawling around in the darkness. As he thought, he felt his pulse slow and his breathing return back to normal. He could freak out about Anaklusmos when he made it out of here.

Wherever the hell "here" was.

Unbidden, the strange words chimed in his head again.

"Get to the bottom."

"The bottom, huh?" He snorted, gazing down the tunnel. Well, it wasn't like he had any other options at the moment. Maybe if he did get to the bottom of whatever this cave was, he'd figure out what the hell had happened to him. And where the hell he was. If nothing else, it was the only clue he had going for him.

But for the time being, he wasn't in any condition to be moving, not when every time he shifted his hand from the puddle it felt like he was going to keel over. Wherever he was, whatever was going on, he was fairly certain that for the time being, he was safe enough where he was. If this truly wasn't a dream, and Anaklusmos was actually gone then he wasn't going to be comfortable heading out into the unknown feeling as he did.

He was all for taking risks when situation called for, but Demigods didn't live to see their twenties by taking stupid and unnecessary risks. Though he was fairly sure there were a number of people who would say that he was the last person to say such a thing. Comfortable enough for the time being, and exhaustion raking his aching and sore body, he leaned back against the wall of the cave and closed his eyes. In a matter of moments, he was fast asleep.

He awoke sometime later. Or, rather, he was awoken by the strangest feeling under his legs. For a moment, he thought that an earthquake was causing the cavern to shake, but as he placed his palm to the floor, he realized that there was no shaking. There was no mistaking that he felt something, an odd sort of pressure that seemed to be emanating from the ground but which did not manifest in physical form.

He got to his feet; his eyes glued to the entrance to the cavern. The odd pressure intensified. The odd tingling turning into a strange crawling sensation, as though dozens of spiders were scrambling up and down his legs. His body tensed as he instinctually began to draw on the natural elements around him. Below, the small puddle began to shift and shake as it responded to its master's unintentional call.

He could her it now. An odd scuttling sound of dozens of legs skittering around the cave floor. He felt his muscles tense in anticipation as dozens of red eyes materialized in the darkness before him. From the entrance to the cavern, nearly two dozen blue crabs - eyes red as fire and the size of golden retrievers - scuttled toward him. A snarl tore from his lips and the puddle responded to his mounting agitation. The water erupted outward, slamming into the oncoming wave of crabs in a miniature total wave. Three of crabs nearest to the front exploded in a cloud of black dust on contact. Either the creatures did not notice the disappearance of their comrades, or they did not care as they continued their charge forward. Percy stepped out of the way of the first crab as its pincers shot out at his neck. Grabbing the appendage, Percy growled as he tightened his grip and used the monster as a cudgel. With a mighty swing, the monster slammed into another of the crabs, which disappeared in a puff of ashen smoke. With another roar, Percy threw his makeshift weapon into another crab before slamming his foot down into the carapace of another.

His body flowed in an automatic torrent as his mind became lost to the motions and thrills of combat. He didn't think, didn't act. He simply allowed his instincts to take over and he lost himself to the thrills of combat. He might not have known where he was. What was happening or how he had even gotten there, but in that moment, it didn't matter. Nothing mattered at the moment beyond the fight.

In another puff of smoke, the last of the creature's disappeared leaving nothing behind beyond a small, strange-looking crystal. It was a small stone, maybe the size of his pinky and it emanated a bright purple glow. He'd seen a lot of things come from monsters in his time, but he didn't exactly understand how crabs led to small purple crystals. Minotaur horn? Sure, that made sense to him. Nemean lion dropping its pelt? Absolutely. But two-foot-tall crabs dropping gemstones? That was a new one.

Nonetheless, he hadn't run into a prize that wasn't useful, so he pocketed the small gem before realizing that nearly half a dozen other such gems littered the floor. With his pockets stuffed with the odd crystals, he continued his way out of the cavern.

The cave was dark, terrifyingly so and the odd blue glow cast by the rocky outcroppings only served to add to the seeming eldritch horror he found himself in. The lights cast odd shadows on the wall, making it look something was always watching, while adding just enough light to so that his eyes couldn't adjust to the dark, making it that much harder to see what was in front of him.

Pressing his palm flat against the wall, he moved slowly. Creeping inch by inch through the darkness. Now that he knew for certain that he wasn't alone down here, he wasn't going to go rushing ahead into the unknown.

Again.

He felt as the wall dipped to the left and Percy followed the cave around the turn, and then he followed it around another turn. Then another. Then it leveled out before it turned again and suddenly, he was in front of a solid slab of rock. Frowning in confusion, he glanced back behind him, but could only see inky blackness contrasted only by the faint blue hue of the lights overhead. Somewhere along the way, the other side of the cavern must have opened up into another tunnel.

He sighed, and gently bumped his head against the cave wall.

"This is going to take a while,"

As it turned out, he was quite right. Only he never could have guessed just how long he would be wandering around the caves. It was impossible to tell just how long he'd spent wandering around the tunnels, and in fact he lost more than a little bit of his sense of reality as he traversed the darkness. Not only was it mentally taxing, keeping a watchful eye out for possible predators and monsters as he inched his way through the tunnels, but the meandering pace he was forced to endure meant he could never tell if he was actually making any progress. His sense of perception was skewed horribly, as he could no longer tell from what direction he had originally come from and in what direction he was now going. Was he moving forwards, or had he managed to get himself turned around somewhere and now he was heading back the way he came? It was impossible for him to tell and it was starting to drive him mad.

It had been that exact reason that he had thought he had somehow ended up back in the Pit. The all-encompassing darkness and meandering maze of tunnels that were designed to get people lost was all too familiar. But that wasn't quite right. At least, he didn't think so. He'd had plenty of time to consider the possibility, but he was growing more and more certain that he wasn't actually in the pit. He had been down there for far too long and outside of that first initial group of crabs, he hadn't run into a single monster. Plus, the caves lacked the…aura that the pit possessed. It was difficult to put into words, but the overwhelming sense of dread and despair that clouded every thought; the heaviness in one's chest that made even the simple act of breathing torturous - was absent.

He decided that he wasn't in the Underworld or the pit, but if he wasn't there then just where the hell was he? And again, how the hell had he even gotten there? His mind wandered back to Anaklusmos, and his heart sank. What the hell kind of nightmare had he woken up in? How had that even happened? It just…dissolved in his hand. Like ash…and he felt his throat constrict painfully. It might have been odd, to feel so emotional about a simple weapon. But that sword was every bit a part of who he was as the fading silver streak in his hair or the very blood pumping through his veins. He'd had that blade for a decade and had carried it through the hells themselves. To have lost it as he had…

He bit back the stinging in his eyes and the bile threatening the back of his throat. He needed to focus. Needed to concentrate. Wandering minds had gotten more than a few good demigods killed before. Yet he couldn't stop the way his mind conjured up the image of his sword turning to ash in his hand, and that raised yet another question.

The monsters had turned to ash in the exact same way. They hadn't exploded in puffs of golden dust, but had dissolved like smoke and ash in a dying flame. He frowned, and tried to recall any moment in which he had experienced something similar. But for the life of him, he couldn't recall a moment where a monster had reacted to death in that manner. And then why did Anaklusmos dissolve like the monsters?

He was pulled from his musings as a new sound reached his ears. He stopped, straining to hear and his heart soared in relief as he recognized the sound. Running water. Forcing himself to calm down, he continued as carefully as he dared in the direction of the sound. After what felt like an eternity, he began to spot a speck of light in the distance. The speck grew in size but it was impossible to see beyond, as the contrast between the total darkness of the tunnel and sudden blinding light ahead disoriented him. With every cautious step forward, the noise of the running grew louder, and an odd feeling beginning in the pit of his stomach and running along each arm and leg began to tingle. The closer he got, the more the tingle turned into an almost vibrating sensation, as though his very body were humming at the prospect of being so close to the water. When he finally stepped out of the tunnel and into the antechamber beyond, it took several seconds for his eyes to adjust to the seemingly blinding light and his body began to shake as the feeling intensified.

When he could finally see, he could scarcely believe what he was looking at. The antechamber was…far more than that. The cavern looked like it might have been a mile across and as he looked up, he couldn't even see how far up the ceiling was, as the walls simply climbed into the heavens before disappearing into further darkness. There was a thin strip of rocky path running along the walls of the cavern, offering maybe only a two or three feet of space before dropping off into a cavernous hole that stretched the length of the room. Across the cavern, Percy could just see what he thought was a trail that followed along the far wall, climbing in a spiraling meandering path into the up while also spiraling down beyond where Percy could see from the tunnel entrance. All along the trail and the walls were more of those blue crystalline structures casting the same ethereal blue glow across the cavernous room. But most captivating of all was what flowed into the monstrous pit in the center of the room. An enormous waterfall, spanning nearly the mile-long length of the room roared and crashed into the abyss below. Such was the force of the running water, that even from the tunnel entrance, Percy could feel flecks of spray as they splattered against his cheeks.

Cautiously, Percy took a step forward before glancing down over the edge. Almost immediately, he wished that he hadn't as he instantly began second-guessing his initial assessment about this being the pit. The hole stretched further than he could see, as the waterfall crashed into the black emptiness below. However, even though he could not see what lay below, Percy could feel the enormous body of water that lay at the foot of the monstrous waterfall.

The words once more came to his mind.

"Get to the bottom."

"To the bottom, huh?" He spared one more glance up at the waterfall. He probably shouldn't. Hell, he knew that he shouldn't. It was the epitome of reckless. But there was something about that voice. Something that called to him. Spoke to him in a way that he couldn't quite understand. He trusted that voice. Trusted that, for one reason or another, it wasn't trying to lead him astray.

If getting to the bottom was the only way to get answers, then really, there was only one option.

With a savage grin, he flexed his legs and once more Percy Jackson dove into the abyss.