I know I use both Percy and Perseus to refer to our main character, it's on purpose. Just in case anyone asked.
CHAPTER 6: OTHRYS
The climb up Mount Othrys felt heavier than Percy had anticipated. Apparently he couldn't even complain to the other members of the quest, because Thalia in her infinite kindness, decided to remind him every few minutes that he had been climbing mountains since before she was even born.
"Feeling winded already, old man?" Thalia shot him a smug look, her breath coming in steady puffs despite the steep incline.
Percy rolled his eyes, wiping the sweat from his brow. "I don't know, Thalia. Maybe I'd feel better if I had a magical spear to lean on."
She smirked, twirling her spear with ease. "Jealousy isn't a good look on you."
"I had a magic spear," he grumbled. "Not my fault I lost it on this mountain."
Thalia nodded. "Poor you, you lost the spear from your girlfriend Athena."
"Thalia, I swear on the River Styx I am going to-"
Grover stumbled behind them, panting. "Guys, can we save the trash talk for when we're not climbing a mountain? My hooves aren't made for this kind of terrain."
Thalia raised an eyebrow. "You're literally a hundred-year-old goat."
Percy grinned despite himself.
"I'm only thirty-two!" Grover protested, though his face was scrunched in exertion.
Zoë didn't join in the banter. She was ahead of them, her gaze fixed upward as if drawn by some invisible force, her bow slung over her shoulder. She moved with quiet determination, the weight of her purpose pressing down on her shoulders like the sky itself. Percy hadn't heard her speak since they left the Garden of the Hesperides.
He wished there was something he could say to her, something to take away the burden she was carrying. But what could he say? Zoë had chosen her path, and he knew better than anyone how heavy the chains of fate could feel.
His muscles ached, but the true weight came from the thoughts gnawing at the back of his mind - Zoë's resignation, the prophecy's shadow, and the uncertain future awaiting them all.
One shall perish by a parent's hand…
It would not be Zoë. Percy would let the Fates curse him all they wanted, but she would live.
He would make sure of it.
Thalia was at the front now, leading with her spear raised and crackling faintly with electricity. Grover followed close behind, his eyes darting to every rustle in the underbrush, every shadow between the rocks, as if expecting Ladon to suddenly reappear.
But Percy's focus was on Zoë, who walked with a quiet, stoic determination. Her expression was unreadable, her mind somewhere far from the mountain path.
He hated this.
Hated how she was bearing everything alone, locked in the chains of fate that had been laid down for her long ago. He wanted to say something, anything, but the words seemed to die in his throat.
The path became steeper, the jagged rocks sharper beneath their feet. The wind howled around them, carrying the faintest sound of distant thunder.
As they neared the peak, Zoë finally broke the silence. "We are close. Be on guard. The Titans will not welcome us."
Percy felt the familiar hum of his sword in his hand. "I wasn't expecting a welcome party."
Thalia shot him a sideways glance. "You ready for this?"
"I don't think anyone's ever ready to face Titans," Percy admitted, his eyes scanning the treacherous path ahead. "But we don't have a choice."
Grover's voice was barely a whisper. "I really hope we're not too late."
Percy's heart clenched. Artemis and the daughter of Athena were up there somewhere. Every second they wasted brought them closer to whatever nightmare Atlas had planned.
The ground beneath them suddenly trembled, a low rumble that shook the rocks loose from the mountain's face. Zoë paused, her hand instinctively going to her bow. "He knows we are coming."
Grover tensed. "Kronos?"
"No," Zoë said quietly. "Atlas."
The name sent a chill through the group, the reality of what lay ahead sinking in. Atlas - the Titan who had been cursed to hold up the sky. The one who would stop at nothing to destroy Olympus and all who stood against him.
Percy swallowed hard, gripping his sword a little tighter. "Whatever happens," he said, his voice steady, "we stick together. We're not letting them win."
Zoë's eyes flickered with something Percy couldn't quite place - respect, maybe, or perhaps gratitude. She gave a small nod. "Together, then."
As they pushed forward, the wind grew colder, the sky darker. The summit loomed above them now, jagged and ominous. And there, standing at the edge of a massive stone plateau, was Atlas.
He was waiting for them.
Holding up the sky was Artemis, kneeling under the crushing weight of the sky, her silvery figure straining as she held up the vast dome above her head. The goddess looked impossibly small beneath the immense burden, her once-glowing form dimmed by the strain.
Beside him, Annabeth was trapped, chained to a stone pedestal. She looked battered but conscious, her gray eyes filled with fear.
Near her, Luke, the son of Hermes, stood with a gold coffin.
Percy's stomach twisted. They were running out of time.
Artemis gasped softly. "Perseus?"
Zoë spoke. "We will save you, m'lady."
"Turn back, while you still-"
Atlas's voice rumbled across the mountain like thunder. "So, the little heroes have arrived." His gaze fell on Zoë, and his lips curled into a cruel smile. "And my traitorous daughter leads them. How poetic."
Zoë stepped forward, her bow at the ready, but she didn't fire. Not yet. "I am no traitor, father," she said, her voice steady but edged with emotion. "I chose a better life. A just cause."
He ignored her. "Well, if it isn't you," Atlas said, turning to Percy. His bronze skin glinted in the dim light, and his eyes burned with hatred. "How've you been, Apokálypsis?"
Percy's stomach twisted at the use of that word. Apokálypsis - the Greek word for destruction, ruin, or even revelation. Atlas was mocking him, calling him the harbinger of doom.
And he was right.
"I've been better," Percy shot back, gripping his sword tighter. His heart pounded, but he stood his ground. "But I'm not the one who had to carry the sky on my back."
Atlas laughed, a deep, grating sound that seemed to shake the very foundations of the mountain. "You think you're clever, boy? You're nothing. A child of the sea god playing at heroism."
Percy's jaw clenched. He knew Atlas was trying to provoke him, to throw him off balance, but he couldn't afford to lose focus. Not now. Not with Annabeth and Artemis in danger.
Percy instinctively stepped closer to Zoë, knowing that this fight would not be an easy one. "Let them go." Percy said.
Atlas sneered. "Let them go? Why would I do that when the goddess and your mortal friend are exactly where they need to be?" His gaze shifted to Zoë, and his smile turned cruel. "All that is left is to kill my traitorous daughter."
Zoë stood tall, her bow in hand, but Percy could see the fear in her shoulders. "I am not thy daughter," she said coldly. "I serve the Hunt now."
Atlas laughed, the sound shaking the ground beneath them. "The Hunt? You chose to serve a lesser god, to abandon your family for a life of servitude. And for what? To protect these pitiful mortals?" He gestured toward Percy, Thalia, and Grover with disdain.
Zoë's grip tightened on her bow. "I chose a life of honor. Something thou would never understand."
Atlas's eyes darkened, and the sky seemed to press down even harder on Artemis. "Honor? There is no honor in serving gods who are doomed to fall. You will die with them, daughter."
Thalia stepped forward, her spear sparking with energy. "We're not letting that happen."
Atlas raised an eyebrow, amused. "You think you can stop me, daughter of Zeus? You are nothing compared to a Titan."
"Fight me then," she said, raising her shield. "I dare you."
"An immortal does not fight a mere mortal directly. It is beneath our dignity. Atlas sneered, "I will have Luke crush you instead."
"So you're just another coward," Thalia said.
Atlas's eyes glowed with hatred. "It seems Luke was wrong about you."
"I wasn't wrong," Luke managed weakly. He looked terribly frail, and every word seemed to be painful.
"Thalia, you can still join us," Luke urged. "Call the Ophiotaurus. It will come to you. Look!"
He waved his hand, and a pool of water appeared next to them, ringed in black marble, large enough for the Ophiotaurus.
"Thalia, call the Ophiotaurus," Luke pressed. Z"Anyone with enough will can. You can be more powerful than the gods."
"Luke…" Thalia's voice was filled with pain. "What happened to you?"
"Don't you remember all those times we talked? All those times we cursed the gods? Our fathers have done nothing for us. They have no right to rule the world!"
Thalia shook her head. "Free Annabeth. Let her go."
"If you join me," Luke promised, "it can be like old times. The three of us, together. Fighting for a better world. Please, Thalia, if you don't agree…" His voice faltered. "It's my last chance. He will use the other way if you don't agree. Please."
Percy didn't know what Luke meant, but the fear in his voice sounded real. He believed Luke's life depended on Thalia joining his cause. And Percy feared Thalia might believe it, too.
"Do not, Thalia," he warned. "We must fight them."
Luke waved his hand again, and a bronze brazier appeared, a sacrificial flame .
"Thalia, no," Percy said.
Behind Luke, the golden sarcophagus began to glow. As it did, images formed in the mist around them: black marble walls rising, the ruins becoming whole, and a terrible, beautiful palace emerging, made of fear and shadow.
"We will raise Mount Othrys right here," Luke promised, his voice so strained it was hardly his. "It will be stronger and greater than Olympus. Look, Thalia. We are not weak."
He pointed towards the ocean, and Percy's heart sank. Marching up the mountain from the beach where a mortal ship and it had a great army: dracaenae, Laestrygonians, monsters, half-bloods, hellhounds, harpies, and other creatures Percy couldn't even name.
"This is only a taste of what's to come," Luke said. "Soon, we'll be ready to storm Olympus itself. All we need is your help."
For a terrible moment, Thalia hesitated, her gaze locked on Luke. Her eyes were full of pain, as if she desperately wanted to believe him. Then she leveled her spear. "You're not Luke. I don't know you anymore."
"Yes, you do, Thalia," he pleaded. "Please. Don't make me- don't make him destroy you."
She shook her head.
"Now," Percy said.
Together, they charged.
Thalia went straight for Luke.
Despite his sickly appearance, Luke was quick with his sword. He snarled like a wild animal and counter-attacked. When his sword met Thalia's shield, a ball of lightning erupted between them, crackling the air with yellow tendrils of power.
Percy- no, this was Perseus, looking every bit the ancient warrior he was, approached Atlas. "Fight me, Atlas."
The Titan laughed as Percy approached. A huge javelin appeared in the Titan's hands, and his silk suit melted into full Greek battle armor. "Go on, then!"
"Perseus!" Zoë shouted. "Beware!"
He knew what she was warning him about. Immortals were bound by ancient rules.
Of course, with Perseus being technically mortal meant he wasn't bound by them.
And a hero could challenge anyone, anywhere, as long as they had the nerve. The moment he attacked, Atlas was free to retaliate directly, with all his might.
Of course, so was Perseus.
Perseus swung his sword, and Atlas knocked him aside with the shaft of his javelin. He flew through the air and slammed into a black wall. The palace was no longer made of mist; it was rising, brick by brick, becoming real.
"Fool!" Atlas bellowed gleefully, swatting aside one of Zoë's arrows. "Did you think, just because you tricked me once, you could truly fight against me?"
Perseus staggered to his feet, his body aching from the impact. His heart pounded in his chest, but he wasn't done yet. He couldn't be. Not while the daaughter of Athena was still chained, not while Artemis was still suffering under the sky's weight.
Atlas loomed over him, laughing cruelly. "You are nothing, boy. A child playing with a sword."
He wiped the blood from his mouth and tightened his grip on his sword. "You're right. I'm not like you."
He charged again, ducking under a wild swing of Atlas's javelin, his sword glinting in the dim light. Perseus aimed for the Titan's leg, hoping to throw him off balance, but Atlas was too fast. He sidestepped the attack and brought his javelin down toward him with a thunderous force.
Perseus barely managed to roll out of the way, feeling the ground shudder beneath him as the javelin struck where he had just been. Dust and debris filled the air, and for a moment, Perseus couldn't see anything.
He heard a sharp twang as Zoë fired another arrow, but Atlas deflected it with ease, his laughter echoing through the battlefield. "You think your pitiful weapons can harm me? I am Atlas, the Bearer of the Heavens! You are nothing but gnats to me."
Zoë's voice rang out, fierce and determined. "Thou underestimate us, Father. That will be thy downfall."
Atlas laughed, swinging his javelin toward Zoë, but she was quick, darting out of range as her next arrow sailed through the air. Perseus could see the pain in her eyes, the struggle between her duty and the burden of facing her own father in battle.
But there was no time to dwell on it.
As Atlas laughed, Zoë nocked another arrow, her hands steady but her face taut with concentration. Before she could release it, however, the Titan moved with terrifying speed. His hand shot out, catching Zoë by the arm and flinging her aside like a rag doll.
"Zoë!" Perseus shouted, his heart lurching as she crashed into a stone pillar with a sickening thud. Her bow clattered to the ground, and she lay motionless, her dark hair spilling across the stone.
She was unconscious.
Atlas sneered down at her unconscious form, then turned his attention back to Percy. "Such weakness," he growled, the air thick with his contempt.
Percy's vision blurred as a rush of fury exploded inside him. It surged through his veins like molten lava, igniting every muscle, every nerve. The world seemed to tremble around him, but he didn't care. Zoë, - he had to protect her. He had to stop Atlas.
No, he had to kill him.
Atlas readied his javelin, the cruel smile never leaving his face. "Come then, boy. Let's see if you can still stand after I crush you."
He didn't respond. His hands clenched around his sword, and suddenly the storm inside him broke free. His body thrummed with power, the ground beneath his feet trembling.
He felt the sea in his blood, the pull of ancient forces that made him more than a demigod, more than mortal. It was raw, primal rage - fueled by the helplessness of seeing Zoë fall.
Lightning crackled in the air as Perseus' eyes glowed with unrestrained fury. He launched himself at Atlas with newfound speed and strength, his sword slashing through the air.
Atlas brought his javelin down to block, but Percy's strike hit with such force that the Titan staggered back, shock flashing across his face.
"You…" Atlas growled, recovering quickly. "You dare-"
Perseus' rage-fueled power surged again, faster than Atlas could react. The Titan swung his weapon, but he dodged, weaving through the attacks with unnatural precision. Every strike, every block was powered by the storm within him, relentless and unyielding.
This time, Perseus wasn't fighting to survive. He was fighting to kill.
Atlas roared in frustration, swinging his javelin with all his might, but Perseus leapt into the air, spinning mid-flight. With a powerful slash, his sword struck Atlas's shoulder, drawing ichor. The Titan snarled in pain, his stance faltering.
Perseus didn't let up. He pressed forward, his attacks becoming faster, more ferocious.
He held out his hand, feeling the familiar draw of power - of a weapon long lost.
Of Athena's spear, the very same spear he had lost on this mountain years ago. And now, it was calling to him once more.
With a surge of will, Perseus summoned the spear back into his grip. It appeared in his hand, gleaming with power. The weapon had been forged in the fires of Olympus itself, a symbol of both wisdom and war.
Atlas's eyes widened, his sneer faltering for the first time. "Impossible…" he muttered.
But Perseus didn't give him time to react. He charged forward, his spear aimed directly at the Titan's heart. This wasn't just about defeating Atlas anymore. It was about ending this nightmare, freeing the ones he cared about, and proving that no prophecy, no fate, could dictate who he was.
Atlas brought up his javelin to block the strike, but the force of Perseus' blow sent the weapon flying from the Titan's hands. The spear pierced Atlas's bronze armor, cutting deep into his flesh. The Titan howled in agony, ichor pouring from the wound.
"You fight with the power of gods, boy," Atlas snarled, staggering back but refusing to fall. "But you are still just a mortal. Or are you?"
"Quiet!" Perseus growled.
"What are you?" Atlas said.
"I am your death," Perseus responded, levelling his spear again.
"But truly, Apokálypsis, what are you?" Atlas repeated, seemingly unaffected by Perseus' attacks. "Named by a god, named by a mortal, birthed from both, yet you are neither. You are an abomination."
Atlas's taunt hung in the air.
"I said, quiet!" Perseus roared. He lunged at Atlas again, the spear glowing with divine power, striking with precision and fury. Each blow was aimed to end the Titan, but even with ichor streaming from his wounds, Atlas did not fall.
"The Ophiotaurus will come to you, Perseus." Atlas said, much too calmly. "Call it."
The bronze brazier glowed faintly in the corner of Perseus's vision, its flames flickering ominously. Atlas's words sent a chill down his spine as the Titan stood, barely affected by his attacks. The spear had drawn ichor, but it wasn't enough. Atlas was taunting him, his endurance seemingly endless.
He should have expected that, to be fair. Titan of Endurance and all that.
Perseus paused for a moment, his spear still pointed at the Titan's chest. The mention of the Ophiotaurus - the creature whose entrails could give someone the power to destroy Olympus - made him hesitate. The weight of that knowledge, that power, lingered in his mind, but he shoved it away. That wasn't his path. He wouldn't fall into the same trap as others before him.
"I don't need it," Perseus spat, his voice harsh. "I don't need that power to defeat you."
Atlas grinned wickedly. "Oh, but you do. You just haven't accepted it yet. You are destruction. That's what Apokálypsis means, does it not? Your very existence will tear down the pillars of Olympus, of the world."
Perseus's heart pounded in his chest, his breath coming in sharp gasps as Atlas's words slithered into his thoughts like poison. The spear in his hand trembled with power, but doubt began to creep in.
Was that who he was? Destruction? An abomination, as Atlas said?
Maybe. But he couldn't let the Titan's words define him. He wasn't some harbinger of doom, a pawn in a prophecy. He was more than that. He had to be.
Perseus stepped forward. "Maybe that's what you see, Atlas. But I'm more than what you or the gods say I am."
Atlas's smile faded, his eyes narrowing. "Foolish boy. You fight against your own nature."
Perseus gritted his teeth, summoning every ounce of strength left in him. "I fight for my own choice."
And with that, he charged once more against the Titan.
Atlas blocked the blow easily. He laughed. "Puny boy. I overestimated you."
"No," Perseus said. "You underestimate me. I forced Iapetus to yield. I killed Hyperion, and Koios fled before me. I put you under the sky, and I will do so again."
"Then show me!" Atlas laughed, blocking a blow. "Sacrifice the Ophiotaurus, burn its entrails!"
Perseus stood frozen for a moment, Atlas's words echoing in his mind. The Ophiotaurus - the power to destroy the gods themselves - was now more than just a concept. It was a choice. A path laid before him, the weight of its consequences crushing down like the sky that Atlas had once borne.
The Titan's grin widened as he saw the conflict in Perseus's eyes. "You think you can win this battle without it? You think you can resist the temptation? Fool. You'll die like every other hero before you, bound by the chains of fate."
Perseus's grip on his spear tightened. He glanced towards the bronze brazier, its flames flickering with a strange intensity. And in that moment, he made a decision.
A terrible, earth-shaking decision.
He called out, not with words, but with his will. The Ophiotaurus - the creature whose life held the power to destroy Olympus - appeared at his side, its innocent eyes gazing up at him. It didn't fear him. It didn't understand what he was about to do.
Perseus knelt before it, his hand trembling as he placed it on the Ophiotaurus's side. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I have to end this."
Atlas watched with dark anticipation, his eyes gleaming with triumph. "Yes, boy. Do it. Take the power. End the gods. Fulfill your destiny."
Perseus closed his eyes, steeling himself against the sickening weight of what he was about to do. He raised his spear, its blade gleaming in the firelight, and in one swift, merciless motion, he brought it down.
The Ophiotaurus let out a soft, mournful cry as its life faded. Ichor spilled from its body, pooling at Perseus's feet, and the air around him seemed to brun with power - ancient, primal power.
Perseus picked up the entrails, tossing them into the bronze brazier where the flames were.
Immediately, he felt power coursing through him, a burning sensation that crawled up his arms, into his chest, and finally, into his very soul. He clenched his teeth, overwhelmed by the raw force of it. He could feel the power of the gods - their strength, their immortality, their very essence - at his fingertips.
Atlas straightened, sensing the shift. "You've done it," the Titan said, his voice both awed and cautious. "You've taken the power of the Ophiotaurus. Now, destroy them. Destroy the gods. You are Apokálypsis, the end of Olympus!"
Perseus stood, trembling from the overwhelming surge of energy inside him. He felt like he could rip apart the heavens with a mere thought. But as he looked at Atlas, his heart hardened.
"The power to destroy Olympus," Perseus said coldly, his voice low and dangerous. "I wonder, Atlas, is it enough to destroy you?"
He charged once more.
Meanwhile, Thalia and Grover fought fiercely against Luke. His face was pale, his expression tight, but he held his ground, swinging his sword wildy.
Thalia, her electric spear crackling with power, dodged Luke's strike and retaliated with a swift jab. "You're making a mistake, Luke!" she shouted, her voice full of emotion as their weapons clashed. "You can still turn back! Don't let them control you!"
Luke's eyes flared with anger. "It's too late for that!" he growled, blocking her next blow. His movements were sharp, almost robotic. "I'm not turning back. This is my fate!"
Grover, armed with his reed pipes, summoned vines from the ground to try and entangle Luke's legs, hoping to slow him down. "We don't want to hurt you, man!" Grover pleaded. "Kronos is using you! Can't you see that?"
Luke slashed through the vines, his eyes briefly flickering with something almost like regret. But it was quickly replaced by steely determination. "I'm doing this for all of us. The gods don't care about any of you. This- this is the only way to change things."
Thalia's eyes blazed with frustration. "By siding with a monster?" She lunged forward again, sparks flying as their weapons clashed once more. "You're better than this, Luke. We were family once."
Luke hesitated, his sword wavering for just a moment. In that split second, Thalia struck, disarming him with a powerful swipe of her spear. Luke stumbled back, falling to one knee as his sword clattered to the ground. His chest heaved, his eyes wild and conflicted.
"Luke, please," Thalia said, her voice softening. "You don't have to follow him. We can stop Kronos together."
Luke looked up at her, and for a brief moment, it seemed as though he might give in. But then, his gaze shifted to the distant figure of Perseus, now glowing with the power of the Ophiotaurus. Something dark flickered in Luke's eyes, and he shook his head.
"It's too late for me," he whispered. "But maybe… it's not too late for him."
Before Thalia could react, Luke snatched up his sword and charged towards Perseus, a desperate gleam in his eyes. Grover shouted in alarm, and Thalia's heart dropped.
"Percy!" she cried out, but it was too late.
Perseus, still trembling from the raw energy coursing through him, barely registered Luke's approach. His eyes were locked on Atlas, his heart filled with a cold determination to end the Titan once and for all. But as Luke closed the distance between them, Perseus turned just in time to see him raise his sword.
Luke hesitated for just a heartbeat, then slashed his sword.
Perseus, acting on instinct, raised his spear. The power of the Ophiotaurus surged through him, and with a flash of energy, he deflected Luke's strike with terrifying ease. The force of it sent Luke flying backwards, his body crashing into the dirt.
There was a moment of stunned silence.
"Luke!" Grover shouted, rushing to his side, while Thalia stood frozen, torn between relief and horror.
Perseus stood there, his chest heaving, his grip on the spear tight as he looked down at Luke.
Thalia's eyes darted to the sky where Artemis still strained under the weight of the heavens. The goddess was on her knees, her silver glow flickering as she struggled to keep the burden from crushing her. Each second, her strength waned, and Thalia knew she couldn't hold it much longer.
Her heart pounded in her chest. There was no choice - she had to act now.
With a determined breath, Thalia charged forward, vaulting over debris and dodging the chaos of battle. She reached Artemis's side just as the goddess let out a small gasp of pain. The weight of the sky was becoming unbearable, even for an Olympian.
"Lady Artemis!" Thalia called, kneeling beside her. "Let me take it!"
Artemis turned her head, her silver eyes narrowing. "No, Thalia. You are too young. This is not your burden to bear."
"I'm the only one who can do it!" Thalia insisted, her voice shaking but resolute. She glanced over her shoulder at the battlefield, where Grover was tending to the unconscious Annabeth, and Perseus faced off against Atlas. There was no one else. "You need to be free. They need you."
Artemis hesitated. "If you take this, Thalia, it may break you."
Thalia's gaze hardened with determination. "This is what I'm meant to do."
For a brief moment, Artemis searched her eyes, then slowly nodded. "Very well," she said quietly. "But remember, Thalia, this weight is not just physical. It carries the burden of time, of fate, of every god who has ever stood under it. Be strong."
Thalia took a deep breath, steeling herself. "I will."
Artemis shifted slightly, bracing Thalia with one hand as she prepared to transfer the weight. With a fluid motion, she released the sky, and in an instant, Thalia stepped forward, her hands reaching up to take the burden.
The moment it touched her, she gasped, her knees buckling under the immense weight. It was like nothing she had ever felt before - an impossible, crushing force pressing down on her shoulders, threatening to crush her entirely. The sky wasn't just heavy. It was… indescribable. Agony.
Every inch of the heavens was pushing down on her, and it took all of her strength just to stay on her feet.
Her muscles screamed in agony, but she clenched her teeth, refusing to fall.
Artemis, now free, rose to her full height. Her strength returned almost instantly, her silver aura flaring with renewed energy. She placed a hand on Thalia's shoulder, her touch gentle but firm.
"Hold on, Thalia," Artemis said softly. "I will make this quick."
Thalia nodded, unable to speak through the pain, her body trembling as she bore the weight of the sky. Every breath was a struggle, but she held on, refusing to give in.
Artemis turned toward Atlas, her silver bow materializing in her hands, her eyes blazing with fury. The Titan, now free of his former burden, grinned maliciously at the sight of Thalia struggling beneath the sky. "A noble effort, little girl," he mocked.
Artemis said nothing, her expression cold as she notched an arrow and aimed it directly at Atlas's heart. The arrow gleamed with silver light.
"You will not speak of her," Artemis said, her voice sharp as a blade. "And you will not leave this place alive."
With a swift motion, she loosed the arrow. It shot through the air like a comet, striking Atlas in the chest with a burst of silver light. The force of the impact sent the Titan staggering, his smug expression replaced by one of pain.
But even as he clutched at the wound, ichor spilling from the gaping hole, he refused to fall. "You think you can kill me, goddess?" Atlas sneered, his voice strained but defiant. "I am the bearer of the sky! I am endurance! I am eternal!"
Artemis stepped forward, her eyes flashing dangerously. "Not anymore."
She drew another arrow, but before she could fire, Perseus, now glowing with the stolen power of the Ophiotaurus, appeared beside her. His eyes burned with fury as he leveled his spear at Atlas.
"Let me finish this," Perseus said, his voice cold and determined.
Artemis glanced at him, then gave a small nod, stepping aside to help the unconscious Zoë. "Be swift."
"You wanted me to be destruction," Perseus said, his voice barely more than a whisper. "But I choose who I am. Not you. Not the gods. Me."
And then he struck.
"You think you can end this?" Atlas sneered, parrying his next strike with his gauntlet, sparks flying from the impact. "You are no different from those before you - doomed by fate, blinded by pride. You cannot escape it."
"Watch me," Perseus hissed, his eyes burning with defiance. "I don't care what I am - mortal, god, or something in between. I will kill you."
With a swift twist, he aimed another strike at Atlas's exposed flank. The spear connected with a sickening CRACK, sending the Titan sprawling to the ground. But Perseus didn't relent. He stalked forward, each step filled with a determination that felt far too human, yet also a force that defied even the gods.
Atlas coughed, ichor bubbling at his lips. "You think this is victory?" he rasped, his voice filled with bitterness. "You may kill me, boy, but you cannot kill what you are. You will learn soon enough - the gods' favor is fleeting. And when they turn on-"
Perseus cut him off with a savage thrust of the spear, the tip gleaming with power as it sank deep into the Titan's chest. Atlas's body shuddered, the golden ichor of immortals spilling out in torrents. The Titan's eyes went wide, and for the first time, there was fear in them.
"You talk too much," Perseus muttered.
Atlas's body slumped, almost lifeless, at his feet. Perseus stared down at the fallen Titan, his chest heaving with each breath. The battle was over. But Atlas's words echoed in his mind, louder than any victory could silence.
Who - what - was he?
He picked up Atlas with surprising strength, pushing him back underneath the sky.
Atlas let out a weak, guttural cry as Perseus heaved him back under the crushing weight of the sky. The Titan's body trembled, his once-mighty form sagging under the immense burden that now returned to him.
Thalia rolled out, panting.
"That thing is… heavy." Thalia said.
"No!" Atlas roared, his voice cracking with desperation. His muscles strained, his knees buckling as he was forced once again to hold up the heavens, a fate he had endured for millennia. "You cannot-"
"I just did," Perseus said coldly, stepping back, his spear still glowing with power. He watched as the Titan, broken and defeated, crumbled beneath the sky he once bore.
Atlas's head hung low, his spirit shattered. "You... will regret this, boy," he hissed, though the fire in his voice had dimmed. "You defy fate. You cannot escape what you are."
Perseus stared at him for a long moment, then turned away, his expression unreadable. "We'll see."
With the battle over, the world seemed eerily quiet. The weight of what Perseus had done settled in - he had sacrificed the Ophiotaurus, taken on the power of the gods, and yet, the victory felt hollow. Atlas's taunts, though silenced, lingered in the air like a dark prophecy.
Thalia, now freed from the burden of the sky, collapsed beside Artemis, her body trembling from exhaustion. Artemis helped her to her feet, her expression softening with pride. "You were brave, Thalia Grace. You have honored the Hunt today."
Thalia, still panting from the effort, gave a weak smile.
Zoë's eyes fluttered open. Immediately she looked at Perseus. "What did you do?"
"I did what had to be done."
Zoë's eyes widened as she struggled to sit up, still weak from her injuries. Her gaze was sharp, full of suspicion and… fear, as she looked at Perseus. "What have you done, Perseus? The Ophiotaurus…"
Perseus turned away from her, unable to meet her eyes. The weight of what he had done was heavy, even more so than the sky that had crushed Thalia. He felt the power coursing through him, but it didn't feel like victory. It felt like something else - a burden.
"I did what had to be done," he repeated quietly.
Zoë shook her head, her dark eyes filled with disbelief and sorrow. "You sacrificed it," she whispered. "The prophecy… You've taken the power that could end Olympus."
Perseus clenched his fists. "It was the only way to stop Atlas. The only way to save you."
"You don't understand!" Zoë's voice trembled, the desperation clear. "That power is not meant for mortals. Not even demigods. Not even you. It will corrupt you, twist you until you are no better than the monsters we fight!"
"I won't let that happen," Perseus said, his voice steely. "I won't become like them."
Artemis, who had been listening in silence, spoke up. "You walk a dangerous path now, Perseus," she said, her tone measured. "The power you hold is not a gift. It is a curse. You must be vigilant, or it will consume you."
Perseus glanced at her, his face hardened by the weight of her words. "I didn't ask for this. But I'll handle it."
Thalia, still leaning against Artemis for support, spoke up, her voice soft but firm. "We trust you, Percy. You saved us all."
Zoë, though clearly pained, looked between Thalia and Perseus. "I hope you are right," she said softly. "But power like this… it changes people."
Perseus didn't reply. He simply stared at the sky, which now hung heavy and vast above them, unchanged by the battle that had just taken place. In his chest, the weight of his choice pressed down on him, even heavier than the heavens Atlas bore.
"We should leave," Artemis said, breaking the silence. She turned to the group, her silver bow glowing faintly in the twilight. "There is no more to be done here." She turned to Perseus. "And you must answer to Olympus."
Perseus nodded, though a part of him wondered if leaving this battlefield was only the beginning of the challenges to come.
SIX THOUSAND WORDS! WOOOOOOO!
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Trife: I'll explain that in detail later. No it won't just be a canon rehash.
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Unknown: They did exist during the Trojan War though?
That's about it! Look out for chapter seven!
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