Chapter 28: The Shadow of the Storm
The wind rustled through the cracked windowpane of Percy Jackson's room, whispering secrets in the language of the forgotten. It was the kind of night that held the world in a suspenseful embrace, where shadows danced with the phantoms of the past. Percy lay restless on his bed, his heart unsettled by the ceaseless drone of the wind. It was as if the night itself was alive, breathing and pulsing with an unspoken dread.In the distance, Percy found himself walking through an ominous landscape—one that seemed torn from the depths of Tartarus. The air was thick, suffused with the scent of brine and decay, as if the very atmosphere was choked with the memory of ancient, sunken battles. Before him lay a dilapidated wedding shop, its windows broken and its walls groaning under the weight of time.
Grover Underwood stumbled into view, his eyes wide with fear, his hooves barely finding purchase on the shattered pavement. He was running, desperately, from something monstrous—something unseen yet felt with every fiber of his being. Percy's heart pounded in sync with Grover's frantic breaths as he dashed into the wedding shop, the tattered remnants of tulle and lace fluttering like ghostly sentinels in the darkened air.There was a moment—a pause in time where the world held its breath—before the explosion tore through the night, a sound like the wrath of the gods themselves. The wedding shop disintegrated in a blaze of light, fire licking at the sky, turning night into a mockery of day. Percy felt the ground tremble beneath his feet, as though the earth itself recoiled in horror. And then, from the smoke and ruin, came a voice—a voice that carried the weight of a thousand years of suffering, twisted with malice and rage.
"Grover…," the voice of Polyphemus thundered through the night, a sinister echo that reverberated in Percy's bones. The ground quivered as if it were afraid of the words spoken by the ancient Cyclops. It was a voice Percy had heard in nightmares, a voice that promised doom and despair.Percy jolted awake, drenched in sweat, the remnants of the dream still clinging to his consciousness like a dark, oppressive cloud. His breath came in ragged gasps as he scanned the room, his eyes adjusting to the darkness. And then, just as he began to settle into the stillness, he saw it—a shadow, creeping across the window, a shadow that belonged to nobody and nothing.The darkness in the room seemed to deepen, as if the night itself was taking on a form—watching, waiting.
Percy's hand instinctively reached for Riptide, his trusty sword, feeling its comforting weight in his palm. But the shadow remained motionless, a silent observer in the thick, stifling air. Was it real, or was it merely a remnant of his dream—a specter of his subconscious fears?Before Percy could decipher the enigma before him, the shadow melted away, leaving nothing but the cold night in its wake.
He sat there, heart racing, the silence of the room now heavy with the lingering threat of what he had just seen—or thought he had seen.The morning sun pierced through the clouds, bringing with it a new day, but the memory of the dream and the shadow lingered in Percy's mind like a prophecy unspoken.
At Meriwether College Prep, the day began with an unsettling sense of normalcy—a calm before the storm. Percy had been dreading gym class, not because he hated dodgeball, but because it meant facing the relentless bullies who seemed to find joy in tormenting Tyson, his awkward and ungainly friend. Tyson was different, not just in stature—taller, broader, with an unusual strength—but in the way he seemed impervious to the cruelty that others flung at him.The gymnasium echoed with the sounds of laughter and shuffling feet, the smell of sweat and stale air thickening as the class gathered for the dreaded game.
The coach, as usual, was oblivious to the undercurrents of malice that permeated the air.Percy felt the familiar knot tighten in his stomach as he took his place beside Tyson, whose large, trusting eyes looked at Percy with a mix of excitement and concern. But it wasn't the typical schoolyard cruelty that filled the air today—no, today something far darker was brewing.Percy noticed them immediately—three of the largest seventh graders he had ever seen.
They were unnaturally large, their grins too wide, their eyes too predatory. There was something off about them, something that set off every warning bell in Percy's mind. It wasn't just their size, but the way they moved, the way their eyes gleamed with something far more sinister than mere mischief.Tyson, blissfully unaware, smiled and waved at Percy, ready for the game. Percy forced a smile, but his senses were on high alert, every instinct screaming at him that something was wrong.
The game began, and almost immediately, the dodgeballs started flying. Percy's heart raced as he dodged and ducked, but it wasn't long before he noticed something strange—these dodgeballs weren't just ordinary balls. They shimmered with a strange, unnatural light, their surfaces crackling with energy.One of the giants hurled a dodgeball directly at Percy, and it exploded on impact, sending him sprawling to the ground.
The air sizzled with the aftermath, and Percy's heart pounded in his chest. These weren't dodgeballs—they were weapons, designed to kill.Percy scrambled to his feet, his mind racing.
Tyson, however, seemed unfazed, catching one of the explosive dodgeballs with his bare hands. The ball fizzled out in his grip, as if Tyson's very touch negated the magic within. Percy's mind spun with questions, but there was no time to think. The giants were advancing, their grins widening as they prepared to launch another attack.
Just when Percy thought all hope was lost, the doors to the gymnasium burst open, and in strode Annabeth Chase, her face set in determination, her grey eyes blazing with an intensity that spoke of battle. She moved with the grace of a warrior, every step calculated, every motion precise.And then, to Percy's astonishment, Amy followed behind her, her presence a beacon of calm amid the chaos. There was something about Amy—something ethereal and wise—that seemed to command the very air around her. She surveyed the scene with a measured gaze, her mind already calculating a plan.
"Percy, Tyson—get down!" Annabeth's voice cut through the chaos like a blade, and Percy didn't hesitate. He grabbed Tyson and dove to the floor just as Annabeth unleashed her weapon, a celestial bronze dagger that gleamed with deadly purpose.Amy moved with a quiet grace, her hands weaving a spell that shimmered in the air, forming a protective barrier around Percy and Tyson. The giants roared in frustration as their attacks were deflected, their eyes narrowing on the two girls.Annabeth didn't waste a second.
She sprinted across the gymnasium, her dagger aimed at the heart of the largest giant—Joe Bob, as he was known. With a swift, decisive motion, she drove the blade into his back, the celestial bronze cutting through his monstrous flesh like butter.
Joe Bob let out a roar of pain and fury, but it was too late—his body disintegrated into dust, leaving nothing but the echo of his defeat in the air.Amy, meanwhile, focused on the other two giants, her hands glowing with a soft, pale light. She whispered an incantation, her voice calm and steady, and the remaining giants found themselves paralyzed, unable to move.
Their eyes widened in terror as they realized they were at the mercy of a power far greater than their own.
"Let's get out of here, now!" Annabeth shouted, her voice urgent.Percy and Tyson scrambled to their feet, and together with Annabeth and Amy, they made a dash for the exit. The gymnasium behind them erupted in chaos, the remaining students fleeing in terror as the giants began to recover, their paralysis wearing off.Annabeth didn't stop. She led them outside, where a familiar sight awaited them—the Grey Sisters' taxi, a battered old cab that seemed to shimmer with an otherworldly light. The three ancient sisters sat in the front seat, their single eye glaring at the newcomers with a mix of irritation and amusement.
"Get in, quickly!" Annabeth urged.Percy, Tyson, and Amy didn't need to be told twice.
They piled into the back seat, the cab groaning under their weight. Annabeth slid into the front, wedging herself between the bickering sisters.
"Take us to Camp Half-Blood," Annabeth commanded, her voice leaving no room for argument.
The Grey Sisters grumbled and muttered under their breath, but they complied, the taxi lurching forward with a screech of tires that seemed to defy the laws of physics. As they sped through the streets, the cityscape around them blurred into a whirl of color and light.
Percy's mind raced as he tried to process everything that had just happened. The dream, the shadow, the giants—everything pointed to something far more sinister at play. And with Deno away training with Alaric, the burden of responsibility felt heavier than ever.
Amy, sensing his unease, placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "We'll figure this out, Percy," she said softly. "