What if Percy was the son of an Egyptian god instead of a Greek one? Let's find out...

CHAPTER 1: TO LOVE A GOD

Sobek respected strength.

It was in his nature, after all. His few hosts had always been in peak mortal condition - athletes, warriors, or the sort who excelled in physical prowess. To Sobek, they were pitifully inferior compared to his own divine form, but the most he could hope for in mortal vessels. Sally Jackson, however, had showed him a different kind of strength.

The Egyptian crocodile god couldn't tell you why he had chosen to walk through the streets of Manhattan. He had assumed a mortal form - that of a young man, with jet black hair, green eyes, and strength that befitted a god like him. The city was alive with energy, yet what he sought lay within a quiet apartment in Manhattan.

He didn't know why he had decided to come here - it felt like fate, destiny, or maybe something else. Whatever the reason, he felt drawn to it.

As Sobek approached the address on the nameplate - Jackson - his divine form seemed to waver between the mortal world and the Ma'at. He hesitated for a moment before knocking softly on the door, careful not to damage the delicate mortal wood. The sound was almost imperceptible amidst the city's noise, but it was enough. The door opened, and a woman stood there. She had a tag on, revealing her name to be Sally Jackson.

She immediately put her hand into her pocket, pulling out a small ballpoint pen. It looked ordinary, but Sobek could sense the magic. Greek magic.

"Good evening," Sobek greeted. He stepped into the apartment like he owned it, shedding the shadows that clung to him and revealing a glimpse of his true form - crocodile-headed and majestic, yet softened by a hint of mortal familiarity.

Sally's eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat. She took a step back, uncapping the pen to reveal a bronze sword. "Who are you? Did my father send you?"

"Peace," Sobek said calmly, holding up his hands in a gesture of non-aggression. His voice was deep. "I am not here to cause harm. I am Sobek." At her confused look, he frowned. He was the patron deity of the Egyptian army, royal warriors and a defender of the Pharaoh and the people of Egypt. Did she truly not know who she was? "I have come to speak with you, Sally Jackson."

Sally's grip on the sword tightened, but she did not advance. Her eyes, though wary, were filled with a curiosity. Reluctantly, she uncapped it, but not before asking "Who?"

Sobek furrowed his brows. This mortal was strange. Instead of answering her question, he decided to ask his own. "I sense… magic. Greek magic. You are no regular mortal. Who are you?"

"A… demigod. Daughter of Poseidon. Don't you know who I am?"

"Should I?" Sobek raised an eyebrow.

Sally laughed. "I'd hope not. Most strangers who know who I am are either trying to kill me or send me on a quest."

Sobek's interest was piqued. "Quests?" He paused, thinking. The magic he sensed was unmistakably Greek, and the talk about quests proved his hunch. "You speak of the gods of Greece. I have not interacted with them directly in some time."

"Well, if you're not here to fight or send me on some dangerous mission, what's your purpose?"

Sobek's gaze softened, and he took a step closer, his presence commanding yet gentle. "I am here because I have felt a connection between us."

Sally looked taken aback. "Excuse me?"

"I have lived for millennia," Sobek said, a trace of ancient wisdom in his voice. "I have seen many things and many beings. I have never felt so drawn to something as I have to you."

"You're so cheesy!" Sally laughed. She scribbled down something on a napkin, and handed it to him. "My phone number. Us demigods aren't meant to have phones, but I haven't always liked to follow rules."

Sobek frowned. "Right. A… phone number."

"You don't know what a phone number is?"

The god huffed, his pride slightly wounded. "I am an ancient deity, older than your puny civilization, I-"

Sally broke into a fit of giggles. "I guess there are some things even gods need to catch up on. A phone number is just a way to contact me. If you want to talk more, you can call or text. You can come by… let's say tomorrow."

Sobek's confusion turned into reluctant amusement as he took the napkin. "Very well. I shall arrive on the morrow, and attempt to understand this… phone number."

Sally's laughter softened into a smile. "Come by at six."

"Alright. Six it is."

"It's a date then! I'm curious about what this connection means for us, too."

Sobek nodded, feeling a strange sense of relief and intrigue. "I shall keep that in mind. Until then, Sally Jackson."

As he left the apartment, he wondered what kind of woman Sally was. A demigod daughter of Poseidon - hadn't the sea god and his brothers resolved not to have any more half-blood children? And that connection he felt…

He would find out who this Sally Jackson was, he swore it on the Ma'at.

THE SON OF SOBEK

Sobek once again found himself wandering through the busy streets of Manhattan.

He had spent the day trying to understand the concept of a phone number, seeking out explanations from various sources. To his amusement, the modern world had devices and systems he had never encountered, and many he would have to ask about. But the challenge was a welcome distraction, and the thought of meeting Sally again kept him motivated.

As the clock neared six, Sobek found himself standing outside Sally's apartment building. He took a deep breath.

With a firm knock, he awaited Sally's response. The anticipation in his heart was unlike anything he had felt before, a mix of excitement and curiosity.

Why was he feeling this way? He was a god, for the love of Ma'at, he had seen countless ages and civilizations rise and fall. Yet, here he was, feeling something akin to anticipation for a dinner date with a mortal.

He had watched armies fall, observed as cities burnt, heard the cries of thousands of mortals. Yet, none of that compared to the pull he felt toward Sally Jackson.

The door swung open, revealing Sally with a warm smile. She had changed into a simple but elegant dress, her hair falling in soft waves. The sight of her made Sobek's heart skip a beat, something he hadn't experienced in millennia.

"Right on time," Sally said, her eyes twinkling. "Come on in."

Sobek stepped inside, his senses alert. The apartment was cozy, filled with warm colors and comfortable furnishings. The aroma of something delicious wafted from the kitchen, mingling with the faint scent of lavender from a nearby vase.

"You're quite punctual," Sally remarked, closing the door behind him. "Not many gods bother with details like that."

"I aim to understand this world and its customs," Sobek replied, his voice carrying a hint of genuine curiosity. "Besides, I am eager to learn more about you and this connection we share."

Sally gestured to the living room. "Why don't we sit down? I've made some dinner. I hope you're not too picky."

"I'm sure it will be delightful," Sobek said, following her to the dining area. As they settled at the table, he couldn't help but admire how effortlessly she moved, how her presence seemed to brighten the room.

They began eating, and Sobek found himself enjoying the simple pleasures of the meal. Sally talked about her life - her adventures, her experiences as a demigod, and the challenges she faced. Sobek listened intently, absorbing every detail about the time she slew a hydra.

"I do not believe it." Sobek announced.

Sally smiled. "I wouldn't either, but it's true!"

"I suppose I must trust you."

"I suppose you must," Sally said, mimicking Sobek's overly formal tone. "So, you're really not familiar with phone numbers?" She asked between bites, her curiosity evident.

Sobek chuckled. "I confess, I am still trying to grasp their significance. But I am learning."

Sally grinned. "Well, if you ever need help understanding something modern, just let me know. I've had my fair share of learning curves, too. Demigod dyslexia and all that."

"Dyslexia?"

Instead of responding to the question (which was perfectly valid, in Sobek's humble opinion) Sally got up, went to the kitchen, and pulled out a tray of… something.

Sobek eyed the blue blobs suspiciously. "What is that?"

"Cookies!" At Sobek's bewildered expression, Sally gasped. "Have you never had cookies? What a sad life."

"Cookies?" Sobek repeated, unconvinced.

"Yes, cookies!" Sally said, as if revealing a cherished secret. She took one from the tray, breaking it in half to reveal a soft, gooey interior. "Here, try one."

Sobek took the offered piece cautiously. He bit into it, his expression shifting from confusion to genuine surprise. The taste was unexpectedly delightful - a blend of sweetness and a hint of something richer, almost divine in its own right.

"These are… quite extraordinary," Sobek admitted, his eyes widening in appreciation.

Sally laughed, clearly pleased with his reaction. "I'm glad you like them! It's a small way to share something from my world with you."

As they continued their meal, Sobek found himself increasingly relaxed, the conversation flowing with ease. Sally's openness and humor made it easy to forget the inherent strangeness of their meeting. He found himself sharing stories of ancient times, some of which Sally listened to with rapt attention, others causing her to laugh at the sheer absurdity of divine antics.

"So, what's it like, being a god?" Sally asked, leaning forward with genuine interest.

Sobek considered the question. "It is both a privilege and a burden. To be immortal is to witness the ebb and flow of civilizations, to see the rise and fall of heroes and empires. It is a responsibility that is both awe-inspiring and isolating."

Sally nodded thoughtfully. "I can imagine. It must be tough sometimes."

"It is," Sobek agreed. "But meeting someone like you, who bridges the gap between the mortal and the divine, brings a new perspective. It is… refreshing. Us Egyptians do not have demigods, like you Greeks do."

Sally's smile softened, and she reached across the table to touch his hand gently. "I'm glad I can offer you a different perspective. It's been nice getting to know you, too."

Sobek felt a surprising sense of contentment. The night had been more fulfilling than he had anticipated.

"Thank you for the dinner and the company," Sobek said as he prepared to leave. "It has been a pleasure."

"The pleasure's been mine," Sally replied warmly. "Don't be a stranger. I'm looking forward to our next meeting."

He hesitated for a moment, his gaze lingering on Sally. There was a charged silence between them. He took a step closer, his heart pounding with a mix of excitement and something else.

Sally's eyes met his, and in that instant, the world seemed to narrow down to just the two of them. Her breath caught slightly, and before either could second-guess, Sobek leaned in, closing the distance between them.

Their lips met in a tender, surprising kiss. It was soft and exploratory at first, but as the kiss deepened, it became clear that this was something they both needed. The connection they had felt throughout the evening seemed to peak in this moment of intimacy.

When they finally pulled away, both were breathless, their faces flushed with a mixture of surprise and satisfaction. Sally looked up at Sobek with a smile that spoke volumes, her eyes shining with something akin to wonder.

"Wow," she said softly, still catching her breath. "That was... unexpected."

Sobek's smile mirrored hers, a rare show of emotion for the god. "Indeed. But not unwelcome."

Sally chuckled softly, her hand lingering near his. "Definitely not unwelcome."

"Until we meet again, Sally Jackson."

She laughed. "Until we meet again."

THE SON OF SOBEK

As the days became weeks and the weeks became months, Sally and Sobek's relationship blossomed. Their meetings became a cherished routine, each one deepening their bond and revealing new facets of their personalities.

Sally found that Sobek's curiosity about the modern world was unending. He eagerly learned about technology, culture, and the quirks of everyday life that Sally took for granted. He also relished her stories of life as a demigod, although Sally stubbornly refused to talk about her father.

In return, Sobek shared tales of ancient Egypt, stories of gods and mortals, and the Pharaohs of Egypt. Their conversations ranged from the mundane to the metaphysical, each one better than the last.

Their shared moments were filled with laughter, deep conversations, and walks. Sobek approached these walks with a sense of wonder that mirrored Sally's own. Together, they explored the city, visited museums, and even attended the occasional modern event that Sobek found fascinating.

One evening, as they strolled through a park, Sally glanced at Sobek with a thoughtful expression. "You know, when we first met, I never imagined we'd end up here," she said, her voice soft.

Sobek smiled, his eyes reflecting the city lights. "Nor did I. But fate, it seems, has a way of guiding us toward what we need."

Sally took his hand in hers, their fingers intertwining comfortably. "I'm glad it guided you to me."

"And I am grateful for the path it led me down," Sobek replied. "It is rare for a god to find such… fulfillment in mortal company. But with you, I have found something I did not know I was seeking." Some might find that comment slightly insulting, but Sally knew Sobek well enough by now that she knew he was attempting a complement.

Their eyes met, and in that moment, it was clear how much they had come to mean to each other. The blend of mortal and divine, ancient and modern, demigod and god, created a unique bond that neither of them had expected.

As time passed, their relationship became a blend of shared experiences and mutual growth. Sally's world expanded with Sobek's insights, and Sobek found himself reexamining his own existence through Sally's eyes. They learned from each other, grew together, and loved each other.

Months into their relationship, Sally began to notice changes in her body and her life. At first, she chalked it up to the stress and excitement of balancing her life as a demigod with her relationship with Sobek. However, as the weeks passed, it became clear that something bigger was happening.

One evening, as they shared a quiet moment together, Sally took a deep breath. "Sobek," she began, her voice trembling slightly, "I need to tell you something important."

Sobek, sensing her apprehension, took her hands gently in his. "What is it, Sally?"

Sally took another deep breath, trying to steady herself. "I'm pregnant. A boy."

The words hung in the air. Sobek's eyes widened, and for a moment, he was speechless. He had seen countless births and witnessed the creation of life in many forms, but this was different. This was personal, deeply tied to his own existence and to Sally's.

Sobek looked at Sally. "Are you certain?"

Sally nodded, a tear almost escaping her eye. "I've had it confirmed. I'm still processing it myself, but I wanted you to know."

Sobek's mind raced as he processed the news. He had always been a god of creation and destruction, but the idea of fatherhood was new and overwhelming. He knew that this child would be unique, a blend of his divine essence and Sally's mortal strength. It would be a being of incredible potential.

If only he knew.

"I... I don't know what to say," Sobek admitted, his voice softening. "This is unexpected, but I want you to know that I am here for you. I will support you in every way possible."

"Thank you," Sally said. "Thank you."

"You are welcome, Sally."

It took another month for Sally to finally open up about her strained relationship with her father.

"I was meant to be the prophecy child," she said. "Born to either save or destroy Olympus when I turned sixteen. My father protected me, even gave me my sword but I refused."

Sobek's expression softened as he absorbed her words. He could sense the depth of the burden she carried. "Why did you refuse, Sally? What led you to make such a decision?"

Sally took a deep breath, her eyes searching for the right words. "I was terrified, Sobek. My father's expectations were immense, and the prophecy seemed like a fate too heavy to bear. I wanted to make my own choices, live my own life."

Sobek nodded, understanding the weight of her fears. "And what has the prophecy meant for you since then? How has it affected your life?"

"It's been a shadow over me," Sally admitted. "I suppose it has long passed me, waiting for the next child of an elder god. It's led to a lot of tension with my father, who believes I've failed him."

Sobek's gaze grew contemplative. "The weight of such a destiny can be immense. But it seems that you've made a choice to forge your own path, even if it means challenging the expectations placed upon you. I believe in you Sally."

"Our son…" she whispered, and only then did Sobek understand.

"You believe the prophecy is his destiny."

"It would make sense," Sally admitted. "He would be a son of you, an elder god, and a descendant of Poseidon."

"I suppose." Sobek's mind whirred. His child, a weapon for the Olympians? He would not have it.

"You know," Sally began. "It's both captivating and tragic when someone is both love and mistreated. A powerful warrior groomed solely as a weapon, used for the god's purposes. There's something disturbing about celebrating someone while tearing them apart." She was barely holding herself together. Sally was scared for her son - scared he would suffer as she had.

"That shall not be our son," Sobek said with a finality that surprised even himself. "It shall not."

THE SON OF SOBEK

The earth seemed to stop spinning as Sobek made his way through the city streets of Manhattan. The warmth of his divine form, which had often embraced him with comfort, now felt distant, flickering in and out of the Duat.

He had spent countless hours preparing for the arrival of his child, cherishing each moment with Sally. But an urgent summons from the gods had pulled him away, and the weight of impending separation weighed heavily on his heart.

The gods had found him - and they wanted him back.

Sobek arrived at Sally's apartment just as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky with hues of deep orange and purple. He hesitated for a moment before stepping inside.

He could hear a soft hum from the living room, where Sally was waiting for him.

"Hey," Sally greeted, her voice light but her eyes searching his face for clues to his mood.

Sobek forced a smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Good evening, Sally."

Sally's gaze fell on him, her concern deepening. "You look like something's bothering you. Is everything okay?"

Sobek took a deep breath, the weight of his divine duty pressing heavily on him. "I... have been summoned back to the Duat. It appears there is a matter that requires my immediate attention."

Sally's face fell, her hand instinctively moving to her belly as if to shield their unborn child from the news. "You're leaving?"

Sobek nodded, his heart aching at the sight of her pain. "It seems so. The gods have called me back. There are matters beyond our control that demand my presence."

"But why?" Her heart ached.

"I was selfish, Sally. I am a god - and we are bound to the Duat. I cannot ignore it, lest I fade out of existence."

Sally's eyes filled with tears, and she took a step toward him, her voice trembling. "But we were so close to the birth. You promised you'd be here for us."

Sobek reached out, gently cupping her face in his hands. "I know, Sally. I did not anticipate this. I wish I could stay, but my duty as a god... it is a responsibility that I cannot ignore."

Sally's tears spilled over, and she looked up at him, her voice and heart breaking. "This isn't fair, Sobek. We've been through so much together. You've been here for me, and now you have to leave? What about our child?"

Sobek's heart ached as he saw the pain in her eyes. "I am bound by forces beyond my control. But I swear to you, Sally, that I will do everything in my power to ensure that I return as soon as possible."

Sally shook her head, her frustration and sadness palpable. "But what if you can't? What if you're gone for a long time? How am I supposed to manage everything on my own?"

Sobek felt a pang of helplessness. He wanted to offer solace, but the reality of his situation left him with few assurances. "I cannot predict what will happen. But know this: my thoughts and my heart will always be with you and our child. I will find a way to be present, even if it is not in the way we had hoped."

Sally took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. "I understand your duty, but it doesn't make this any easier."

Sobek pulled her into a tender embrace, his strong arms offering what comfort he could. "I wish things were different. I wish I could be here for every moment. But you are strong, Sally. You will face this with the same courage you have shown throughout."

They stood there in silence, the weight of their impending separation hanging heavily between them. The sound of their breaths mingled with the distant hum of the city, creating a quiet, melancholy symphony.

After a long moment, Sobek pulled away slightly, his gaze locking with Sally's. "I must go now. The longer I delay, the more complicated matters will become. But please, know that my love for you and our child is unwavering. I will return, and I will make up for the time lost."

Sally nodded, though her expression remained somber. "Go. I'll manage. Just... come back to us as soon as you can."

Sobek nodded, his own eyes reflecting the sorrow he felt. "I will." He handed her a paper, with an address. "If our cchild ever figures out who he is, send him here."

She nodded, tears streaming down her face. "I love you."

With a final, lingering kiss, Sobek reluctantly stepped away, his divine form flickering with a faint glow. The connection between them, so strong and profound, seemed to stretch and strain as he moved toward the door.

As Sobek walked through the city streets, he felt the pull of the Duat growing stronger, a relentless force that tugged at him. The city lights blurred around him. Each step felt heavier, each breath more labored, as if the very air was conspiring to pull him away from the mortal realm.

Sobek took one last, lingering look at the city, his heart aching with the knowledge that he was leaving behind the one he loved and the child he had yet to meet. He closed his eyes, steeling himself for the transition, and stepped into the realm of the Duat.

As he crossed the threshold, the world of mortal Manhattan faded away, replaced by the vast expanse of the Duat. The weight of responsibility settled over him, a mantle he had worn for millennia. But this time, it felt different - more burdensome, more painful.

A son had been left behind - a demigod of the likes never seen before, a boy with power he should not have.

Sobek had now what very well could be the most disastrous child in mortal - and immortal - history.

THE SON OF SOBEK

In the quiet hours of a summer evening in Manhattan, New York, Sally Jackson lay in a hospital bed, her hand clutching the railing tightly as waves of pain surged through her body. The hospital room was dimly lit, the only sounds the rhythmic beeping of monitors and distant murmurs of nurses down the hall. Outside, the sky had been clear moments ago, but now dark clouds gathered swiftly, obscuring the fading light of the setting sun.

As Sally's contractions grew stronger, so did the sense of unease in the atmosphere. Thunder rumbled ominously in the distance, a precursor to the storm that was rapidly approaching. The air grew thick with anticipation, charged with electricity as if the very atmosphere sensed the imminent arrival of something extraordinary.

Or rather, something godly.

In the midst of the storm, a slender and tall midwife gave reassuring words to Sally. "Hang on," she whispered. "You're almost here."

Outside, lightning split the sky, illuminating the hospital room with stark flashes of brilliance. Rain began to pelt against the windows, driven by gusts of wind that rattled the glass. The storm intensified with each passing moment, as if nature itself mirrored the childbirth.

And then, as if in response to Sally's final push, the ground beneath the hospital began to tremble. The walls creaked and lights flickered as the earthquake shook the building. Books fell from shelves, and alarms blared as nurses rushed to stabilise equipment.

It would later be recorded that the earthquake was a 9.8 on the Richter scale - the worst in human history.

Amidst the chaos of storm and earthquake, Percy Jackson entered the world, his cries joining the chorus of wind, rain, and shifting earth. In that instant, the storm reached its peak - a crescendo of nature's fury that seemed to pause, as if acknowledging the birth of a child who would forever change the course of history.

As Sally held her newborn son for the first time, exhaustion and relief washed over her. She gazed out at the retreating storm, the clouds already beginning to disperse as swiftly as they had gathered, the earth ceasing its quaking.

Sally stared at the midwife and she knew - the woman was too slender, too tall, too godly, and Sally knew. This was a goddess.

The woman smiled. "A son of Sobek?"

Sally nodded numbly. What else could she say? She was weak, without her sword or her magic.

The goddess laughed. "Oh, he shouldn't have done that. You're lucky I was here, or else…" she let the sentence trail off. "Anyway, my blessing saved you and your child, so you're welcome."

"Who are you?" Sally asked weakly.

A laugh came from the too slender goddess. "The Lady of Lamentation. The Mourner of the Gods. The Lady Whose Glance Causes Terror."

Sally could almost cry. Where was Sobek when you needed him?

The goddess smiled uncannily. "You have a debt to pay, Sally Jackson. But I'm not interested in you…" she stared at the newborn, and then she was gone.

As Percy nestled in his mother's arms, the hospital room fell into a hushed calm, the storm and earthquake gradually receding into memory.

But it could never truly be forgotten.

The night Percy Jackson was born devastated Manhattan.

THE SON OF SOBEK

Something was wrong.

The sky above was an unsettling shade of twilight, the winds howled with a mournful tone, carrying whispers of mourning through the desolate landscape.

In the center of the howling winds stood an ancient, crumbling temple, its once-majestic columns now worn and battered by time.

Inside were the Moirai, the Fates - Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos - and they stood in their usual positions, but something was amiss. Their hands, usually steady and precise, faltered as they worked on the threads that flowed around them. The threads were tangled, frayed, and in some places, completely missing.

Clotho's eyes, usually sharp and focused, were clouded with confusion. She attempted to spin a new thread, but it unraveled almost as soon as it was created, slipping through her fingers like grains of sand. Something - someone, was attempting to subvert fate.

"This isn't right," Clotho murmured. She called for Atropos, who cut the threads of life.

Atropos observed the boy as she attempted to cut his string. His string was resilient - not invulnerable, not unable to be severed - but the boy resisted.

He was an abomination - defying fate by simply existing.

Lachesis, the Fate of destiny, peered at the tangled web. Her usually clear vision was obscured by a haze, and she struggled to read the path of the boy - chaotic and incomplete.

"It's as if the threads are being pulled away," Lachesis said, her tone laden with worry.

Atropos, was unusually silent. She stared at her shears, now rusted and dull, almost unable to cut the string. Her usual resolve was replaced by a deep, unsettling dread.

"We must have done something," Atropos finally spoke. "Or perhaps someone has done something to us."

It was then Lachesis laughed. She knew what was happening. The boy had a destiny like none other, destined to raze the earth and flood the earths and mourn Olympus - she, the Fate of destiny, knew it.

Her laughs grew louder. Her sisters looked at her. "What is the matter?" Atropos said.

"The boy," Lachesis said. "Remember the elder days, when we were not the ones in charge of fate?"

Clotho frowned. "When mother spun the thread?"

Lachesis had a knowing smile on her elder face. "Older."

"It cannot be possible. It cannot!"

"You know it to be true. When god-kings walked the earth, when the elder, foreign gods took primal forms, when the Mourner of the gods walked the earth-"

"Enough! What are you playing at sister?"

"He is from those days, the abomination of a child."

They could deny it, but the implication was real. A half-blood of the eldest gods.

In those ancient times, when gods walked the earth more freely, boundaries were clearer. Immortals kept to their realms, and mortals to theirs.

But something like this had never occurred before.

The Moirai watched with a mix of fascination and apprehension, for he was beyond their full control.

The boy, unaware of their scrutiny, moved through the world with a power that echoed the primal forces from which he sprang. His very existence stirred whispers among the divine, tales of doom and destiny intertwined.

And amidst it all, the Fates plotted, weaving and unraveling threads as they sought to shape his path.

Percy Jackson was a child of the sea and the rivers, born not just of their life-giving currents but also of their dark, poisoned depths. Emerging from ancient sands that whisper of forgotten prophecies, he was fated to grieve for the gods - to orchestrate their downfall and wander their ruins.

He comes from the crocodile god, with the lineage of Poseidon and the blessing from the Lady of Lamentation - the son of Sobek.

The Fates could not cut his string but they could twist it and weave it and orchestrate. They whispered across realms, across times, their ancient eyes fixated on the boy who bridged worlds, whose blood carried the weight of gods and the adrenaline of mortals and the depths of pain and wrath. They saw in him the potential for cataclysm, for upheaval, and for the rewriting of destinies.

He would not fall before sixteen. The odds were not in his favour, the cards stacked against him, but the Fates had a new toy to play with, one they could not fully control.

Shall reach sixteen against all odds…

The Moirai laughed.

That's the chapter! Please review, be it critique, love for the fic, ideas, suggestions, anything, I'll always respond. Hope y'all liked it!

Over and out!