Update: I wanted to delve deeper into Artemis's perspective, especially as we near the story's climax. This is the endgame. The next chapter will be the final one, after which I'll reorganize the prologue into Book One and get ready to launch Book Two. Don't worry—you won't have to search for it; everything will be in this fic. What happens in this and the next chapter will be crucial in shaping the course of the next book. And don't miss the preview at the end!

Artemis PoV:

He was gone.

The realization struck me like an arrow, it was a twisting, brutal, unforgiving wound. My body jerked forward before I even knew I was moving, breaking free of Apollo's grip. Ares's hold loosened, his face contorting, eyes narrowed with disgust, his voice scraping out, "He cheated." The words were bitter, dripping with loathing. "The bastard needed his mother to finish the punk."

But his words barely registered. My world had shrunk to that one image—Percy's lifeless form, his strength and fire drained, reduced to a silent, broken shell. The battlefield or what's left of it after our hollow victory was silent. He was gone. My resolve wavered, cracking under the weight, the enormity of it pulling me down like a stone dragging me into the deep.

Then Annabeth's scream tore through the air, raw and unfiltered, a sound that ripped at the heart. She thrashed against her mother, cursing, railing against everything and everyone, her voice hoarse with a grief so profound it felt like the last desperate throes of a dying animal. Athena's grip held tight, absorbing every ounce of her daughter's pain, taking it into herself even as her own face twisted in sorrow.

I struggled forward, needing to be near him, to do something—anything—but a gentle hand caught my arm. I whipped around, fury blazing in my eyes, but it was Hestia. Her face was a study in quiet devastation, her lips pressed tight, her gaze hollow. She didn't say a word. She only pulled me close, her grip like iron, her sorrow absolute. Rage simmered in her gaze, that endless hope I'd always seen in her eyes now dimmed, replaced with something darker. She stared at Ares, her silent fury passing to him, and he moved with swift obedience, taking my arm and leading me back toward my siblings, his own face shadowed with a rare concern.

Around us, the other gods stood rooted, each absorbing the loss rolling through and over them, a heavy, suffocating wave. Each of them confused at the deep and all consuming sorrow and rage filling them, only to then realize it's source, Poseidon. Poseidon was wild, barely restrained by Zeus and Hades, his grief spilling out like a breaking dam. The ocean he commanded raged across the world, waves crashing with the strength of a father's shattered heart. Tidal waves tore through islands, coastlines crumbled, the sky itself darkened, as though the very elements mourned.

Ares's grip tightened, pulling me toward Aphrodite, who reached for me, her gaze soft, filled with understanding. Her voice was low, soothing, like a balm I wanted to reject but couldn't resist. She whispered, and her words slipped over me, dulling the sharp edges of my pain, slowing my heartbeat until it felt like I was drifting in a haze. I felt drowsy, a sick, empty weight pressing down on me, but even through it, I felt Poseidon's fury carving through the battlefield, a force that could split the world in two.

Across the field, Thoon lingered, distracted, scribbling as if we were nothing more than characters in his twisted play. Hestia had moved to Poseidon's side. Zeus and Hades still had him in their hold, but she closed the distance, and with a strength I'd never known from her. She grasped their arms, her grip vice-like, and with a strength that defied her small form, she tore their hands away, setting Poseidon free.

He charged forward, a hurricane incarnate, his pain and fury a ruthless tide. Hades quickly fell in behind him, his face shadowed with a silent understanding rage. Zeus hesitated but joined when Hestia did, her face alight with a wrath that echoed Poseidon's own. Together, they moved with a force that bent the earth beneath them, their footsteps heavy with the kind of power that had once felled Titans.

I tried to follow, to break free, but Ares's grip was a vise, his fingers digging into my arm as Aphrodite's whispers grew quicker and louder, her power coiling around me like chains.

"Listen, sis…" Ares's voice, rough but soft, cut through the chaos. "I know you cared about the pu—" His voice wavered before he corrected himself, swallowing back something bitter. "About the boy. But we can't go in there. That fight… let Father, let our uncles… let Auntie handle it, alright? It's… beyond us."

His words seeped into the fog that Aphrodite had wrapped around me, settling like stones in my stomach. I felt my breath hitch, the truth pressing down like the weight of a mountain. We were close to the edge—far too close. For the first time, I could see it clearly, the narrow line between survival and annihilation. The giants had been shattered, but Gaia remained, the ultimate force that loomed over us. And now that beast, something we didn't and couldn't have predicted, something beyond our understanding.

Artemis PoV:

His body was returned, my uncles, Aunts, and Father, crashed into that horrid realm, what they saw I do not know, but their haunted faces told me all I needed to know. Poseidon carried him, with Hestia hovering close by.

"His soul, is it in your realm yet brother? I…. I want him to be granted entrance to the Isle of the Blessed, if an exception can be made for your daughter Helen and her husband Menelaus, Zeus, then my son who gave you and this family everything he had…. He… he should be allowed entry." Poseidon said.

"Of course…" Zeus began but was interrupted.

"No," Hades said with a finality that shocked the gods and demigods present. My rage boiling to a maximum, I'd fight Hades if I had to, if it meant Percy got what he deserved.

"Father!" Hazel yelled, but the sound was consumed by Poseidons roar.

"What!?" He boomed, "How Dare…" but before he could finish he was interrupted by Hades.

"I can't find his soul brother…." Hades said, and his voice sounded scared, more scared than I'd ever heard it.

"How…" Zeus and Poseidon said at once, and only then did we realize something, Gaia's power was gone, it had not been apart of the battle since her attempt on Zeus. She had focused all her strength in that new realm where Percy and Thoon fought, but now? Her path is open, the fates champion defeated, fate quite literally favored her, and yet she had not made her move, almost as if….

Then we felt it—a surge so powerful, so all-encompassing, that it shattered any illusion of our own might. It wasn't just powerful; it was a force that dwarfed even the combined strength of the Big Three. Six, maybe seven times their power, each wave distinctly unique, a symphony of energies with different textures and temperaments. It vibrated through the air, pressing down on us, filling every space until it felt like breathing through water.

Realization clawed its way through the haze. The Primogenai, the ancient ones, the first beings to ever exist, had stepped into this war. Their presence was suffocating, and they were holding Gaia, restraining her with their boundless might. But why? The question burned in my mind, searing through the shock. What could be so dire that even they, those primordial forces who seldom involved themselves, had intervened now?

Despite the searing pain in my head from the crush of divine power, a single, overwhelming urge consumed me: I needed to be near Percy. I needed to see him, to confirm what my heart refused to accept. The doubt, the gnawing denial, clawed at my sanity, driving me deeper into grief with every heartbeat. But I couldn't move. I couldn't let Poseidon see the depth of my infatuation, not now, not when he teetered so close to the edge himself. His rage and despair were a storm, and if I pushed him further, I feared the consequences.

So I stood, rooted to the spot, my eyes locked on Percy's broken form. The longing twisted inside me, mingling with a grief so profound it felt like it would consume me whole. The space between us felt vast, an unbridgeable chasm filled with raw, unrelenting sorrow.

The shadows coiled inward, collapsing in a cascade of darkness until they began to take form, refining into the figure of a woman. She stood before us, perfection made flesh, with a beauty so profound that it made my chest tighten with an unfamiliar self-consciousness. It was a feeling I hadn't known before Percy, but one that had haunted me since he entered my life, worming its way into my thoughts like a thorn.

Since he had come into my world, I couldn't help but compare myself—first with other goddesses, then with every woman who had touched his heart. Calypso, with her nurturing grace and the effortless way she could captivate without trying, a legend in both beauty and gentleness, her presence radiating warmth and comfort. She was soft, tender, and inviting, exuding a quiet strength that made her irresistible in a way that was subtle, sensual without ever needing to be overt. Every gesture whispered of a deep, nurturing love, a kind of care that spoke to the soul and invited it to rest.

Then there was Aphrodite, desire personified, the ultimate contradiction made harmonious. She embodied every longing, every dream, every flicker of lust and romance that ever existed. She was the shy, blushing maiden one moment, delicate and demure, and the minx of temptation the next—overtly sensual, aware of exactly what she wanted and precisely how to get it. Her body was sculpted to command worship, hips that moved with the rhythm of a lover's whispered promise, a voice like honeyed wine that dripped with allure. Aphrodite's enchantment was woven not just in her flawless curves but in the subtle art of her movements, the way a glance could ensnare, a smile could ignite. Her beauty was a masterpiece, a siren song that called irresistibly, merging the innocent with the forbidden, the tender with the bold.

And now, this woman, the woman who emerged from the shadows, was something altogether different. She was darkness made sensual, an enigma that walked the line between fear and desire. Her beauty was severe, almost gothic in its allure, with skin as pale as moonlight and eyes that glittered like shards of onyx. Her presence was both regal and deadly, a danger wrapped in temptation, as if surrendering to her would be both rapture and ruin. Her lips, dark as blood, curved into a knowing smile that promised secrets whispered in the night. Every detail of her exuded a vampiric seduction—an intoxicating pull that made you want to step closer, despite the sharp edge of foreboding that pressed against your senses.

Standing before them, I felt my own inadequacies laid bare—my body lean and honed from centuries of relentless pursuit, every muscle and sinew a testament to the sharpness of the hunt. Where their bodies were soft, full, and inviting, mine was all angles and tension—my chest flat, my legs too long and muscled. I was Artemis, the eternal maiden, forged by the wild, bound by the call of the moon and the whisper of the trees. Courtship and seduction had never drawn me in; I had traded their gentleness and surrender for the fierce, unyielding embrace of freedom.

Yet now, confronted by these embodiments of divine femininity and haunted by the memory of another, questions surged within me, ones I had no answers for. I remembered Calypso's tender, nurturing charm that promised warmth and safety. I turned my gaze to Aphrodite's raw, smoldering allure, the way she captured every wandering glance. And then, I looked at this woman before me, with her dark, predatory grace that lured with both desire and dread. I felt a tremor of something I dared not name—a flicker of yearning, perhaps; the longing to surrender, to give myself completely to him, even now, as he lay there lifeless, my chance lost forever.

It was a feeling deeper than jealousy, sharper than envy. It was a disquieting ache, a realization of what it meant to truly want, to look at everything these other women could give him and question, for the first time, if I could have given him the same, if I could ever be enough. If I could have given him what they could. If I was enough for him.

Being in the presence of this goddess of shadows brought perfect clarity, an echo of fear and desire entwined. It was the dawning awareness that freedom was no longer enough; that I was willing to surrender everything I had ever been, everything I held dear, just to have been his.

But now, with Percy gone, that ache twisted into something sharper. Was it loss? Regret? Rage? Perhaps it was all of those things. If he was truly gone, I prayed this torment would fade, lost to time. Yet, deep down, I knew it was a lie. He's not gone, Diana's voice echoed fiercely within my mind, her conviction a perfect mirror of my own. He can't be gone—we both know that!

You're right, I thought back. He can't be gone forever. Uncle Hades said he couldn't find his soul. If we could heal his body, raise him to godhood, maybe… maybe there's still hope.

My scattered thoughts splintered as the woman stepped closer, her presence slicing through the chaos in my mind like a blade. I wasn't used to feeling so unmoored, and it was because of that disarray that she had managed to approach unnoticed, gliding past the tense ranks of Olympians with an unsettling ease. They stood at the ready, weapons drawn, bodies coiled with the anticipation of battle. My father shifted forward instinctively, his protective stance a barrier between us and the intruder. But as I met her gaze, an icy realization snaked down my spine: this woman was perhaps more dangerous than even my great-grandmother. There was something familiar about her, something ancient that made my blood run cold.

The glow of her skin, the cascade of hair dark as midnight, the way the very shadows seemed to ripple and bow in deference around her—it clicked, sudden and undeniable.

"Nyx," my father said curtly, the tension in his voice thinly veiled. "We've appreciated your aid so far. Is this reprieve your doing?"

"And my kin's," she replied, a subtle smile playing at her lips, her obsidian eyes sparkling with dark amusement. Her long black hair fell in thick locks over her chest, and her low-cut dress concealed just enough to hold an air of mystery.

"Can you help him?" I asked, pushing aside the burning jealousy in my chest as memories of Percy's encounters with her flooded my mind. He had told me of their meetings, the way her presence had left its mark on him. But that fire paled next to the inferno of hope. He's not gone! Diana's voice echoed in my psyche, fierce and certain. We shared the same conviction.

Nyx turned her gaze to me, eyes alight with a look of triumph. "Only I can save him now. Give him to me, and I will help him become what he was always meant to be." She shivered with something between pleasure and anticipation, and the jealousy flared, sharp and hot. But it didn't matter. Nothing did, except that he could be saved.

"Then do it. Save him!" I said, my voice cold with the weight of desperation. I caught Poseidon's eyes on me, something conflicted flashing in their depths—surprise, maybe even unwilling recognition. He stepped forward, placing Percy's body into Nyx's arms, his hand lingering on Percy's shoulder for a moment before retreating. Before vanishing with Percy, Nyx's gaze met mine, and Poseidon's large hand settled on my shoulder, squeezing with a reassurance I hadn't known I needed.

"Be prepared," she said, her voice a low purr. "Gaia will know what we are doing. She will know she has lost, and while our eyes are turned, she'll come for you. She will seek to strip away all joy from this victory. Hold out until he returns."

My father nodded, accepting the rise of a rival with a solemn understanding that war changes everything. In the chaos of battle, choices are made for survival, alliances forged out of necessity, and pride set aside for the sake of victory. Expediency and pragmatism become the guiding principles, even for gods. But none of that mattered now. All I knew was that he was coming back. And when he did, I swore, nothing—no demigod, goddess, Titaness, or primordial—would stand in my way. He would be mine, and I his. For him, I would abandon the maiden's oath that had defined me for so long. I would surrender everything—my freedom, my hunt, the very essence of who I had been. Because with him, I had found a longing deeper than the call of the wild, a desire stronger than the moon's pull on the sea. And when he returned, I would make sure he knew it.

Preview:

Percy's PoV:

I sat on the temporary throne beside my father's, the fourteenth now becoming the fifteenth, if only for the moment. The seat was simple, unadorned—a stark contrast to the intricate thrones of the Olympians surrounding me. Eyes settled on me—some filled with fear, others with envy, and a few with quiet joy. My father's face glowed with pride, Uncle Hades offered a rare, approving smile, and even Zeus inclined his head in acknowledgment.

"We have much to discuss," Zeus began, his voice rumbling with a thunderous power that made the palace tremble. Ever the dramatic, I thought with a smirk. "Six and a half millennia ago, when we overthrew my father, we divided this universe, carving up the spoils of his kingdom amongst ourselves. But when we defeated the Titans this time, there was no such luxury. War fell once more upon us, far too swiftly, leaving no room for celebration, no time to distribute spoils or establish new boundaries. Now, with the defeat of the Giants, we must finally address those matters. The lines of the universe must be redrawn, our kingdoms and domains redefined, rewards allotted, punishments decreed. Servants, wealth, power, artifacts—each must be deliberated and distributed. And beyond that, a new political structure must be forged now that this war has ended.

This will be long and arduous, nephew. Prepare yourself—this will make the Congress of Vienna look like a mere playground squabble, and the celebrations to come will make their grandest balls seem like the drunken antics of a frat boy. Are you ready to play this godly game of power?"

I met my uncle's gaze and smiled, a mischievous glint in my eyes. "You have no idea, dear uncle."