"Just because you do not take an interest in politics doesn't mean politics won't take an interest in you."
- Pericles
Dodging his way through a few more side alleys, Percy made it to one of the checkpoints leading into Mistral's main military base without causing too much commotion. The guards checked his ID despite his appearance — with Neo's semblance around, Percy was all too aware how easy it'd be to slip past lax security. Not that he was worried about the girl, half a world away as she was, but she served as an important reminder of the different rules they played by on Remnant.
Once he'd been waved through with a cacophony of salutes (the fist-to-chest Roman kind rather than the modern military kind) Percy quickly ducked through a short series of halls until he arrived at the Navy's drydocks.
Absentmindedly waving off the soldiers saluting him, Percy took in the progress with a wide grin. Of all his various responsibilities in Mistral, this was the one he enjoyed the most. He might have been dragging his feet (or crawling on his fingers, as Shiro had put it) when it came to giving his position as leader of the country an official name, but there was one title he hadn't had a problem taking.
"Admiral," his Rear Admiral greeted him with a salute — the military kind — having made a beeline for Percy as soon as he'd seen him, a gaggle of various officers trailing after the man.
"Saturn," Percy greeted, saluting back. The gesture still felt foreign to him, and he made the motion as quick and casual as he could without coming off as disrespectful. The soldiers in the army and airforce — airfleet, he recalled — still regarded him with Aves, but the small portion of soldiers in Mistral's Navy treated him more like a commanding officer than whatever he was to everyone else.
And man was that starting to get annoying to not have something to refer to his as of yet unnamed position. He was starting to see Shiro's point — it was almost annoying enough to just bite the bullet and let them call him emperor. Almost.
Shaking himself from that train of thought, Percy turned back to the Rear Admiral. Horrible name aside — the name of the titan of time alone still left a bitter taste in his mouth — the man had been just about perfect for the job. Already a high-ranking officer in the army, and the head of a minor noble family with a legacy built on naval warfare before naval warfare had been deemed unviable due to technological advancements. Normally that would mean jack to Percy, but it turned out a legacy built on naval warfare meant that Saturn Vasilias had been far more interested in the idea than anyone else in his position had reason to be.
According to his records he'd been one of the first to volunteer to be transferred to the Navy (though it wasn't officially named as such at the time) and had been the highest rank to do so for some time, though Percy had only actually met the man after the reorganization of Mistral's military.
"I see progress is coming along nicely." Percy grinned, eyes roaming over the three ship hulls in each of the drydocks, and beyond them the many dockyards under construction. They wouldn't be nestled into the side of the mountain like the first three — because there was no room — and as such would be without the secrecy or protection of the mountain, but Percy didn't much care. The secret was out, as much as nobody seemed to care all that much, and Percy was more than content to let whoever wanted to look at Mistral's Navy being constructed enjoy the sight. He knew first hand how long it would take to catch up, if anyone wanted to bother trying.
Saturn nodded. "Indeed. We're ahead of schedule."
Percy raised an eyebrow. He could see that, at least, considering he even recognized the hunks of metal in the drydocks as ships. They were the lightest class of ships that had been designed so far, what Percy guessed would serve as something like a light cruiser back on Earth, but even despite how much smaller they were compared to the battleships he hadn't expected progress this quickly.
"How far ahead?" he asked.
"We're making double time." the man said calmly, but Percy's head stopped roaming over the coast to snap to the Rear Admiral. "We'll be ready to launch before the end of the week — to an outfitting dock, of course."
"How?" Percy just barely managed to keep his voice below a shout.
"To my understanding, engineering was able to improve on the construction process significantly by utilizing different types of dust. To be honest, I'm not sure why we didn't from the beginning."
Because he hadn't thought of it, Percy wanted to say. He'd been able to describe down to almost perfect detail the process of building a warship, one of the more niche aspects of his heritage that had come up on instinct. But that process hadn't included dust, because there wasn't dust on Earth.
Percy's mind flashed through the construction of a ship, and he tried to think of anywhere dust could be used to speed things along.
His eyes widened as he realized all the applications ice dust alone could have in the construction process. Or gravity dust, or even just hard light dust to build temporary platforms in mid-air, and then collapse them in a heartbeat.
Shaking his head, Percy whistled. No wonder they were making double time.
"There is one drawback, however." Saturn cleared his throat, and Percy diverted his attention back to the man. Reaching a hand behind him, one of the officers following behind the noble placed a small white page with tiny font in his hand. He handed it to Percy, but thankfully elaborated before he was forced to decode the tiny little hieroglyphics. "We may have made two months of progress in one month, but we also blew through three months worth of budget — and this was us being conservative. The dust is… a rather hefty expenditure."
Percy shot him a look. "You're telling me you can go faster than this?"
He nodded firmly. "Research and Development believes we can cut construction down to a tenth of the time, but at more than double the cost per ship — almost triple."
Percy checked the bottom of the page to make sure there were about as many zeroes as he was expecting, and handed it back to the man. "Consider it funded." he wouldn't call the price a drop in the bucket, per se, but it wasn't far off either. Once the other dockyards were operational and building ships of their own he was sure the sum would grow to eye-watering proportions, but with their current capacity for production the extra speed was more than worth it.
He wasn't exactly swimming in lien — he had a lot of things to spend on — but the money spent here would barely be noticeable.
And besides, it wasn't like he was losing much of anything. He was buying the dust from the MTC — which he owned. The trains they used to transport the dust? Owned by him. The ships they paid to freight dust into Mistral? Also owned by him. It would eventually made it back to employees, where they would then go and either deposit it in one of his banks or spend it, near certainly buying something from a business he owned. And besides, it was taxed every step of the way — every cent of which once again, technically went straight back to him.
Being so ingrained into the fabric of Mistral's economy let him take a different perspective on things like income and expenditure. It was the same with Menagerie, and to a far lesser extent Mantle. And while he was certainly doing his best to get Vacuo, Vale, and Atlas to that level, it wasn't nearly as feasible. After all, he'd started out in Mistral and Menagerie when they didn't even have functioning economies. That they'd progressed so quickly was just a result of how far behind they'd been for all the labor at their disposal.
"Good work," Percy shook himself from his thoughts, clapping the man on the shoulder and sharing a nod with him, moving through the large hangar-like room and up a set of metal stairs. Absently, he noticed a walkway of metal grating crossing from one end of the chamber to the other, and paused his ascent.
It was completely absent of people. Well, he'd been looking for somewhere private to make a call. Might as well be here.
Pulling out his scroll and searching through his contacts list, Percy made his way to the center of the catwalk and did his best to get used to the light shaking of the metal mesh under his feet.
Finding the name he'd been looking for, Percy tapped the call button and waited for it to connect.
He had to wait a few moments, but soon enough the visage of Headmaster Ozpin greeted him.
"Perseus," the man greeted, not unkindly. "How may I help you?"
Percy smiled, leaning back to balance on the thin railing before suddenly thinking better of it when it began to bend precariously. "So we're back to Perseus now? No Percy, no Mr. Jackson?" he prodded.
"As much as I appreciate the opportunity to socialize, I am busy Mr. Jackson. If you had a reason for your call I would ask you to state it."
Percy hid a grin. Mr. Jackson now, huh?
"I'm planning on visiting Beacon to see some students." Percy told the man honestly, deciding not to push him for now. That would come after he got what he wanted. "I just wanted to make sure you're aware so we can avoid any ruffled feathers."
Ozpin hummed, taking a long sip of coffee. Percy knew it was earlier in Vale than Mistral, but considering the sun was setting just over the horizon here it couldn't have been before noon there.
"I see. Well, we do have procedures for such cases."
Percy raised an eyebrow. "Procedures?"
"Indeed." Ozpin hummed, taking another long draw from his mug. "If you would like to visit, there are restrictions and rules you must abide by. Visitors are not allowed on campus while classes are being held, and must be gone by eight PM — ten on Friday and Saturday. Visitors are not allowed weapons, and you must stay to public areas — or, if you are invited, your student's dormitory. And, of course, all guests must schedule their visits ahead of time and check in at the Academy's bullhead docks before their visit."
Percy's other eyebrow joined the first. He wanted Percy to… what, sign up to visit like he was a parent?
Percy laughed suddenly, a genuine smile finding its way onto his face at the sheer normality of it. He shrugged. "Fair enough. Though, I can't go without my sword."
Ozpin sighed, but nodded. "I suppose an exception can be made given your… unique situation. You may be allowed a limited escort and to have means to defend yourself, but please ensure your blade remains unused. Each and every student of Beacon is under my personal protection."
That wasn't what he'd meant, but he shrugged again. He wasn't about to correct the man. Percy's thumb hovered over the red button on his screen, about to end the call when his eyes briefly focused just past his scroll before flitting back.
"An escort inside Beacon shouldn't be necessary," he said, "But I'd like to have an escort to the city, if you don't mind."
"I have no say over the policies of the city — I would recommend forwarding your question to the council." the man said, closing his eyes with a resigned sigh.
Percy's eyes softened imperceptibly. "I know you don't have an official say, but regardless of what you might think I'm not your enemy. I'd like to clear this with you ahead of time, so we're on the same page."
Ozpin opened his eyes with an exhale, but only hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Very well, what are the forces you'd like to escort you to Vale?"
"A few ships," Percy said casually, "Just three."
Ozpin frowned. "Perseus, I hardly think that a small fleet of airships-"
"Not airships." Percy corrected quickly. "Actual ships. Ocean-going."
The immortal blinked, surprised. "I see. Yes, I don't see a problem with that. Just… please do make sure not to cause any problems while you're here. Glynda's sleep schedule is still recovering from your last debacle."
Percy winced at the barb. "Yeah, yeah. I'll see you in a few weeks." he said, shutting his scroll and severing the call.
Eyes focused near the horizon, Percy took in the soft light of the setting sun outlining the silhouette of three fully operational battleships.
They'd been barely noticeable in the battle with Atlas considering everything else that had been happening, and the one he'd taken to Mantle hadn't so much as fired a shot there. The fact that he had a fleet — or at least a warship — was public knowledge by now, but most people wouldn't have found it significant enough to be common knowledge. His guess was that everyone who cared to pay attention was still reeling at the tanks and his powers — after all, it's not like the ships had really had a chance to show off like the tanks had.
Or maybe it was common knowledge and Ozpin knew exactly what would be showing up at Vale a few weeks from now. It made little difference to him — he had an excuse to take his fleet out, and by the gods it was an excuse he intended on using.
Percy smiled. A couple weeks on the open ocean and then a chance to check in on all his favorite bundles of childhood trauma?
He couldn't wait.
"How is there nothing we all want to do?!" Yang bemoaned to the sky, as if an answer would fall from it.
"We could always go to the mall." Ruby tentatively suggested, hands clasped behind her back.
"Ugh, again?" Weiss groaned, rolling her eyes. "We've done nothing but go to the mall."
"Even I'm starting to get tired of shopping." Yang added with a wince.
"We could keep exploring Vale!" Ruby suggested, perking up.
Weiss rolled her eyes and pulled out her scroll. "Walking around aimlessly, you mean."
"Well, if nobody has a better idea..."
Apparently taking that as a challenge, Weiss began reading off her scroll.
"Mini-golf?"
"Boring~" Yang groaned.
"The shopping district?"
"Same as the mall."
"Coffee?"
"Same as eating."
"The park?"
"That's still just walking around."
"Oooh, the Vale Institute of Art!"
"Boring!" Ruby and Yang cried at once, sharing a high five.
Weiss stomped her foot on the pavement. "Well then you come up with something!"
"We did." Yang pointed out with a grin. "But you said you didn't want to try laser tag."
"It's a juvenile and unrealistic waste of time." Weiss huffed.
Rolling her eyes, Yang gave up. "How about you Blake, got any ideas?"
"Hm?" Blake jerked her head away from surveying the area.
"You weren't listening to a word we said, were you?" Yang deadpanned, hands on her hips.
Blake waved her off, tearing her gaze back across the street to resume combing the storefronts. "Sure, mall sounds good."
It was only the several seconds of silence that clued Blake in to look back to her team and find Yang's expression had spread to her other two teammates.
"So… not the mall?"
Weiss sighed. "I don't even know why you bothered." she rolled her eyes, walking off with a shake of her head.
"Where are you going?" Ruby called, already moving to follow her.
"I guess we may as well explore if we have nothing else to do." she scowled, prompting a cheer from Ruby as the two walked down the street.
Yang rolled her eyes and grabbed Blake by the arm, lightly pulling her along to follow the other half of their team. "You know, sometimes I'm not sure you even remember our names."
Blake hummed distractedly, eyes still studying their surroundings even as she was half-dragged along the sidewalk. "Sure I do, Bang."
Yang tried to scowl, but her smile ruined it. "At least you're feeling well enough to joke. Seriously though, what's up with you lately?"
"Nothing." Blake denied easily, and she wasn't lying. Nothing had changed. If there was something wrong with her, there was nothing 'lately' about it. She had always been on-edge whenever they left Beacon, it's just that they'd been leaving Beacon a lot recently. With the team getting along — mostly — and Yang having successfully guilt tripped her into participating in team activities, the four had found themselves in Vale for a couple weekends in a row now, and even a few week nights.
Blake wanted her team to enjoy themselves — she really did. Which is why she really didn't want to be caught off guard by a member of the White Fang or one of his informants.
"Hey," Yang leaned towards her, conspiratorially eyeing their two teammates walking side by side some distance in front of them. "It's getting late enough for the clubs to open, and I feel in the mood for a little more than just walking around. Wanna split off and let me show you around Vale's nightlife?"
Blake just shrugged. She'd learned it was easier to go along with Yang whenever she got an idea.
Her partner's smile was wide as she steered them away from their unaware teammates and down a side street. "You're gonna love it."
Blake sincerely doubted that, even more so as the sight of their destination came into view. The street they were on was near vacant, but the club they were approaching itself had a line going out the front door and wrapping around the corner.
They were directly across the street when Blake took notice of the especially organized air of the bouncers, and then as they got closer and Blake could see a bit into the club every time the door opened, she saw more bouncers. Each pristinely, uniformly dressed, with the confident air of men who believed themselves better than everyone around them. Under their suit jackets, she could just barely make out the outline of a variety of concealed weapons.
Blake's heels dug into the pavement halfway across the street as she rapidly backpedaled, the movement being so sudden that Yang was actually dragged back several steps with her. A few people waiting in line shot them odd looks, but they mostly went ignored.
"Blake, what the hell?" Yang let go and looked back at her partner, more confused than upset.
"Those are criminals." Blake hissed, jerking her head towards the door and turning on her heel, storming away from the building with as much haste as she could manage without drawing attention to herself.
"Woah, woah!" Yang danced in front of her, "They're chill, I've been here before."
Blake shouldered past Yang, not stopping for a moment.
"What's your problem with these guys!?" It was Yang's turn to hiss, eyes widening as she scrambled to catch back up with her partner. "Do you owe them money or something?"
Blake's right hand went to hover over her pocket on reflex, where she kept the lien Perseus had given her. She hadn't even found a place to spend it, so large was the sum — it wasn't like she had a bank account. She wasn't stupid enough to go out into Vale alone and open one, but she also wasn't stupid enough to try to get change for a hundred thousand lien in a dust shop — much less while her team were there to ask questions.
And she had four of the damn things.
She was nervous even carrying so much on her all the time, but she was far more nervous leaving it unprotected in their dorm.
"No." Blake snapped, shaking herself from her thoughts and ripping her hand away from her pocket. "I don't need another reason to not get involved with criminals, Yang. That's the mob."
Yang shrugged. "Yeah, so?"
Her casual disregard almost made Blake trip. "You have no idea what you're messing with, do you?"
Yang grinned as she speed walked beside her partner, lifting one arm to flex her bicep. "If they try something, they'll be the ones messing with me."
Blake scowled. "Idiot."
Yang blinked and drew back slightly. "Seriously Blake, what is it with you recently?"
"What is it with me?" Blake huffed, not allowing herself to slow for a moment, even if the club was no longer visible. "I'm not the one who likes to dance in a club owned by the mob!"
"Chill~, fine, we can go somewhere else." Yang placated.
Blake shook her head. Perseus would have contacts everywhere from the local barber shop to the council itself. She'd bet all the lien in her pocket that he was very familiar with the underworld here, and she had no desire to take chances. She would accept periodically going into Vale for a few hours because then there was no way anyone could find out where she was, prepare to take out multiple huntresses in training quietly, and then do so in such a short time — especially if she managed to evade the attention of anyone who might be working with Perseus. But walking straight up to an establishment owned by the mob, close enough to see into it, and then sticking around until it was well after dark?
Nope.
Nope, nope, nope. Blake had gotten in trouble for rushing into situations without thinking in the past, but even she could recognize that was not a decision that would contribute to her continued wellbeing.
She didn't doubt they'd be fine, but only if they high-tailed it the hell out of Vale before word could spread.
"Where are Weiss and Ruby?" she asked instead once they reached where they'd separated, looking around and storming off in the direction they'd been heading when that proved futile.
"Geez, were you really that spooked?" Yang looked a bit abashed, scratching her head. "I'm sorry, I didn't think it'd be that big of a deal. They always know to leave me alone whenever I'm there."
"It's fine." Blake snapped.
It was clearly not fine.
Where did her partner get off on hanging around the mob? Was she that dense, or was it something to do with Perseus?
As if Yang could read her thoughts, that was when she decided to speak up. "Not to uh, bring down the mood any further, but I thought I'd tell you that I invited Percy for Ruby's birthday. He said he's planning on coming."
"What?!" Blake hissed, grinding to a halt in the middle of the sidewalk.
"I knew this was gonna be a pain." Yang muttered, coming to a stop as well with her fists on her hips. "I get you have problems with him politically or whatever, but it's Ruby's birthday. It'd mean a lot to her if you were there, but more importantly it would mean a heck of a lot more if you weren't there. Can you ignore your differences for one night? If not for Ruby, then for me?"
Blake's scowl didn't waver. "That's what you think this is about? You think I don't want to meet Perseus because I… what, don't like his tax policy?"
Yang shrugged. "If it's not that, what is it? I can't help with a problem I don't understand."
Blake hesitated. "No, you can't." she agreed, shouldering past her teammate.
"So help me understand!" Yang called out, following after her without a moment's hesitation. "Whatever the issue is, either I can fix it before he shows or I can't and I can explain the problem to Ruby."
"Drop it, Yang." Blake snarled, refusing to meet the blonde's eyes.
Yang caught up to her and grabbed her shoulder with a grin. "Yeah, or what? You're my partner Blake, if you've got a problem then I've got a-"
Yang found herself facing the sky, a stinging sensation on her upper lip and nose and a dull ache in her right shoulder. Reaching up on instinct, Yang felt below her nose for blood that wasn't there.
Turning her head to the side in a dazed confusion, she watched as her partner stalked around the nearest street corner and disappeared. "What the hell…?"
She laid on the concrete for a few more seconds than she'd later admit, but soon enough she was up and storming after her errant teammate.
The anger came easily. What the hell was that? She'd just been punched in the mouth and thrown to the ground for trying to help. Oh, Blake would pay for that. Yang would make sure to pay her back twice over before she locked the girl up and forced her to open up to someone for once in her gods-damned life.
And then, Yang would help her. Because that was what partners did.
Turning the corner her partner had gone around moments before, Yang's eyes scoured the street in front of her to find… nothing. Just a few civilians, no sign of her teammate.
Jogging through the light crowds and ignoring their objections, Yang ran to the nearest alleyway and peered into it.
Dead end. Nobody there.
Repeating the process, Yang went from alley to alley until she reached the next intersection.
Pulling out her scroll, Yang wasted no time calling her partner.
"I'm sorry. The number you've requested-"
Yang slammed a finger onto the 'end call' button with a frustrated cry.
Couldn't their team function properly for one weekend?
"I know the human being and fish can coexist peacefully."
- George W. Bush
Standing on the edge of a long pier, Percy pondered — not for the first time — the oceans and their nature. He almost wanted to call it meditation, but he knew it was a far cry from actually meditating — he let his thoughts run rampant, as they always did. It was just that so close to the pull of the vast ocean, the endless abyss, it was hard for his thoughts not to be consumed by it.
It was strange. He, more than any other, understood the true nature of the depths — at times it felt like they were one in the same, as if he could swim to the bottom of a dark abyss and remain there, content for all time. Yet, he still found himself thinking about its nature more than nearly anything else.
Many times in his life had he felt a deep, primal instinct to find a dark crevice in the bottom of the sea floor and make it his until someone was stupid enough to bother him.
But beyond that, since coming here there had been an undeniable desire to command the oceans to sink Remnant beneath the waves. Not out of anger or spite or some lust for power, but because it seemed… right. Like every piece of land defiantly breaking the waves was an affront, a mistake, a blight — a break from the natural order. Everything would be so much more… correct if it was just ocean.
He had never seriously considered it — the untold millions he'd kill was all the reason he needed to dismiss it out of hand — but he still felt the almost primal urge nonetheless. The urge to allow Remnant to be swept beneath the waves, find the deepest, darkest hole in the ocean, and just… rest, content with his undisputed supremacy. In a world without any other sea deities, the oceans were his and his alone. He wondered sometimes if the gods ever felt anything similar. If his dad had this urge in the back of his mind at all times, begging him to bring the world beneath the waves, and it had been itching at him for thousands of years? Well, Percy was beginning to understand why the gods fought so often. Considering there were hundreds of other deities all potentially being urged to do the same — without the mortal connection to hold them back — then he was honestly surprised it hadn't gotten uglier.
It was oh so tempting to follow through sometimes. Not that he'd ever really considered it, but enough that he'd put countless hours of thought into it on nights like this — like a fantasy he knew he would never act on. He found it brought him peace, the idea of a world of naught but the deep. He knew logically he would miss everything about humanity, his friends, walking on land, even simple things like prepared meals — really he'd miss everything. Logically, he knew that a world of nothing but ocean would be a purgatory.
But that was logic talking. And, as he stood on the pier that night with his eyes closed and felt the pull of the ocean, the idea of a world without imperfections still relaxed him. Calmed him. Made him long for it.
And it would be oh so easy. Even now he could feel it. The unrestrained power of the tides toiling beneath his feet longed to consume. And he could let it — command it to ensnare all of Anima beneath its waves. It would be submerged in less than a day, he knew, an entire continent gone before anyone would even know what happened.
His fingers twitched.
"The fleet prepares for war." Shiro drawled, coming up to stand beside him. Waves calmly lapped at the side of the wooden structure, and Percy shoved down the urge to allow them to embrace him.
"I hope not." Percy eventually responded, opening his eyes and sending his friend a quick smile. "I'd hate to start another one before any more ships can be completed. That would ruin the point of showing off."
Shiro rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well, whatever you wanna call it. Show of force? Ill-fated diplomatic mission?"
Percy snorted and slugged Shiro lightly on the arm. But, true to Shiro's words, the three ships that were finished had docked and were currently hives of activity. Thousands of men scurried around loading and unloading crates to prepare for the voyage ahead. More and more soldiers and marines joined the formations on the dockyards before they were to load, and Percy looked over just long enough to find his Rear Admiral was present and had things handled.
"You sure it's wise to antagonize Ozpin like this?" Shiro broke the silence. "I know it's not going against your agreement, but it's not exactly a pledge of enduring harmony either."
Percy shrugged. "Should I? No, probably not. But Ozpin is too… familiar."
Shiro's eyebrows scrunched together. "How so?"
"He's used to me playing along." Percy explained. "I've done my best to go along with his demands because they're reasonable and because I did technically go back on our prior agreement about not interfering with the council. But while I don't intend to actually act against him, he needs to be reminded of who has the leverage."
Shiro shot him a weird look. "That's not the kind of thing you normally like to do. You're not above posturing when you need to, don't get me wrong, but since when do you brandish the stick to people who aren't causing you any problems?"
Percy hummed. "Ozpin is… different. It's clear he thinks he's in the superior position — or at least that I can't do anything to hurt him. It's a pretty common trait in immortals. After all, regardless of what petty moves I make I'll be gone in a few short years and he'll still be around to pick up the pieces. A few short years after that and he'll be as good as new."
"Showing off some ships wouldn't really do much to change that." Shiro pointed out.
"It's not the ships I'm showing off." Percy corrected. "It's what they represent. Immortals believe themselves to know everything — to have seen everything. And normally, they're right. They've been around for hundreds — thousands, usually — of years, and seen it all. But when they see something new? Not just some new invention or gimmick, but something they truly can't explain, something that doesn't fit into their worldview?" he shrugged. "They don't know what to do with themselves."
"Ah," Shiro hummed, "The fleet. Without you around, it would never be viable. Almost ten thousand people going out to sea, they'd be a floating settlement. There's never been that many people in one place on the open waters. It shouldn't be possible to make it ten miles from shore without attracting enough Grimm to destroy the fleet, but with you there…"
Percy nodded back, shooting him a quick grin. "It's not just new, it's impossible. It changes the game."
Shiro snorted. "Yeah, you change the game alright." he shook his head, muttering something under his breath. "Anyway, thought you might want to know that the council has finally given up and started referring to your position as 'Perseus'."
It was Percy's turn to snort. "I'm surprised I outlasted them, to be honest. So, what, am I a person and an office?"
Shiro chortled. "Something like that. I think they're just determined to make that the name of the position itself. It almost comes off as more arrogant than just biting the bullet and naming yourself Rex. You've essentially said that no title is enough to encapsulate what you are to Mistral." Shiro shot him a cheeky grin. "Guess Imperator doesn't sound so bad now, huh?"
Percy groaned. He knew he'd been putting it off too long, but he didn't think they'd do something so damn pompous. What, would the next ruler of Mistral — assuming there was one — be called Perseus too? That was just…
He paused.
That…
That's what had happened to Caesar.
Hardly the same circumstances, but Caesar had become the name of the title, because there hadn't been anything like it before — because he'd set the trend.
He swallowed. Ordinarily he'd have dismissed it as a coincidence, but Mistral was as good as a parallel to Rome. They even spoke the same damned language — or at least, Mistral tried.
He didn't know how long he stood there thinking of all of the parallels between Caesar's situation and his own — and finding a truly worrying amount of them — but it was long enough for Shiro to worry.
"Percy?" Shiro called out, "Percy, are you alright?"
"Yeah… Yeah, I'm good." Percy shook himself out of his thoughts, closing his eyes and opening himself back up to the endless expanse of ocean before him with a deep sigh.
"Just… remind me to keep an eye on the council."
Hope you enjoyed :)
Check chapter 66 for this week's AN.
