"Speak not to me of blasphemy, man; I'd strike the sun if it insulted me."
- Captain Ahab the Stubborn
Havoc in Heaven
?, The ashen plains of New Macedon
THE END OF THIS JOURNEY WAS AT HAND...
It was a potent premonition, so certain, he could liken it to an irrefutable fact of the universe.
He tilted his head over to the ash-ridden skies and sighed, a reflex that did more to warm the ichor in his veins than his paltry campfire as he pondered on his past and sins.
His countless failures.
The years spent as an unwitting slave, decades of wars and battles, centuries of heartache and loss that he could only ever wish upon his worst enemy.
And yet, given the chance, the warrior wasn't sure he'd change a single one of the decisions that had shaped and molded him.
That had educated him.
Every slight and jeer, every funeral and the sorrows that had followed, every burn, stab, scar, and violation upon his body he'd suffered told a story of the path he'd braved. Without them, he didn't want to imagine it.
What was his present worth without his past?
His past...
Golden hair, the color of summer wheat. Blue eyes as bright and free as the skies above. An eternal promise of Brotherhood.
The stranger shook off the monologue, his ebony locks unraveling themselves from his bun as he poked at the dying hearth. He bit his lower lip, taking in the sight of the dead Realm. His dead Realm. The once lively retreat he'd dared to call home a literal lifetime ago was no more pleasing to his eyes than the stale slums of Yomi.
The last remaining legacy – and he used that term sparingly – left of his subjects.
Your Family, the traitorous part of his mind implored of him, he crushed the thought in that same breath, annoyed that the last dregs of that accursed Flaw still nested deep inside of him. It was too little, too late for him to feel such affection for worthless fools who couldn't be bothered to fight for themselves.
For innocent lambs that could've never known any better.
"Tell me you didn't leave our sides to brood, love."The teasing voice of his lover signaled to him like a golden lifeline, dragging him from the depths of his angst and into her waiting arms as she nibbled on the shell of his ear playfully.
He tilted his head upwards, his breath catching in his throat at the sight of her.
Her smooth, long black hair glowed with the iridescent sheen of an onyx, her angelic Asian features and her soft, creamy skin were augmented by striking golden orbs that shone with the brilliance of a midday sun. As her hands carded through his mane, he could smell the scent of fresh grains and sandalwood oils, her favored offerings.
He stared into the eyes of the Eastern Sun and took her hand in his, placing a chaste kiss on the ridge of her knuckles, "If it's any consolation, I missed your warmth too, Amy."
Amaterasu's smile grew wicked at the innuendo. He adjusted his head to her lap as her wandering hands became more adventurous. He stopped her before she strayed too far, though. Call him an angsty prude, but he didn't quite fancy such 'comforts' in the ashes of his city.
"Tsu stayed back, did she?" He asked halfheartedly, but the radiant Queen of Heaven looked at him like he was crazy, her hair drooping low enough to tickle his nose.
"You don't believe we'd ever be foolish enough to leave the running of Takamagahara to Susano'o again, do you?"
A part of him wanted to speak on behalf of his old friend before deciding the paranoia wasn't in any way misplaced. The Storm God was a joy to have around at parties and festivities, but he'd be more willing to piss on the Creator's scalp than to ever trust the wild God with the total sovereignty of the Kami again.
What happened in Asgard was going to die with Asgard.
"And besides..." The Goddess' twin suns bore into his soul, poorly-hidden judgment poking and prodding at his nerve, "Cold as my wife is, she'd rather not bear witness to our lover throw away everything he's built so callously."
He averted his eyes, too tired to go through another round of this song and dance again.
They'd argued against his course of action repeatedly, harsh words thrown out in the heat of the moment and a trail of destroyed cities and corpses the price for their uneasy peace.
"I'm not doing this to hurt you two, you know? I have to do this."
"You have to do this, " she conceded easily, her tone deceptively light and favorable. "We understand that wholly. Olympus has pushed her luck one too many times now to go unpunished."
"Exactly, so you-"
"You have to do this, Perseus," His lover cupped his cheeks and forced him to look her in the eyes. Her moist, ichor-shot eyes. "But what we can't fathom is why you'd ever want to do this alone?"
Percy Jackson shut his eyes tight at the question, not trusting himself to not reveal his desires and keep the Sun before him shining for just another second.
"Say the word, and the halls of Takamagahara would storm the Realms to help you. Your sworn Brothers would destroy that city to its cobblestones to protect you, and yet why? Why do you choose to do this to us?"
The screams of hopeful children and innocent families mocked him, glassy eyes time-locked and staring towards a blood-red sky, a bustling city drowned in roaring acid-green flames, and nightmares that the hedonistic pleasures of the flesh could no longer do anything to quell.
All because of him.
His people had been slaughtered like animals. Their corpses strung up on display poles and the paradise they'd built burnt to acrid ashes because the immortals of his childhood had decided that he'd become too selfish.
Because he'd had the audacity to try living for himself.
Their screams - so pained, so loud – haunted him with every breath he took. Every time he closed his eyes, he could hear their frantic thoughts and prayers latching onto every part of his body like ghostly shackles, dragging him into the deepest depths of a stark abyss.
Perseus got off her lap and to his feet, his locks shadowing his eyes as his resolve hardened to the density of steel; he held out his right arm and centered his energy, calling out a single chant, "Kuru."
In an instant, a sphere of blinding, divine energy gathered around his fist, reality turning monochrome for a tenth of a second before fracturing and then shattering like glass around his arm before delivering his weapon.
A massive single-edged greatsword with a serrated edge along the bladed curve materialized in his hand. Arcane runes and Hiragana characters lit the blade golden for an instant before blazing violet flames lit up the dark world starburst with a resounding boom.
Ame-no-Ohabari was the blade's name, one of the divine weapons of his pseudo-father-in-law, the Shinto Primordial patriarch Izanagi.
A weapon with a bloody past, it was a gift that had doubled as a dowry and reward for his efforts in bridging the gaps between the Shinto and the Greeks. Perhaps accepting the blade as his divine symbol over what the Greeks had offered had caused all this; who could say?
He didn't know, and he didn't care either way.
Olympus had called for blood, and by everything he stood for, that mountain would drown in it.
Swinging the sword over his shoulder, unbothered by the blazing flames, he looked back to his lover with a sad smile, "It has to be this way. They won't stop till they control me, and I'm not dragging any more innocent people into this."
"You're leaving us, aren't you? That's your big plan, isn't it, you coward!"
Percy struggled to meet her gaze at the rebuttal, and it wasn't just because the Goddess' golden eyes were glowing with enough divine energy to thaw out a tundra. He shuffled towards her, murmuring into her hair as he cradled her head in his chest.
"You will be safe. Long after I'm gone, you and Tsukuyomi will still have each other, your family, our children, and everyone else to- "
The goddess pushed him away at his excuses, her eyes brimming with unending tears, "You were more than just an experience, you fool! You were-you are..."
"Goodbye, Lady Amaterasu." He finished for her. It was a severance. A definite end to his ties to all of them and the last bit of protection he could offer them from the fallout of the madness he was about to unleash.
He didn't wait for an answer, his body and soul dematerializing into eldritch energy and violet flames as he shot out of the confines of his devastated home, over the horizon, and down to the Realms below with a call for blood on the tip of his tongue.
Percy tried to block it out, tried to shut out a prayer he knew would do no miracles for his shaky resolve. A wish he was honor-bound to answer to once invoked, and his heart suffered for it. Across time and space, from the lover he'd just abandoned, and his lover in the Land of the Rising Sun, was a whispered plea.
"Come back to us, Percy Jackson."
He roared his fury for all to hear and beware, all while the Moirai cackled from the sidelines.
Φ Φ Φ
?, The Gilded Gates of Heaven, Mount Olympus
HERA PRESERVE THEM, HE DIDN'T GET PAID ENOUGH FOR THIS SHIT.
Jason's far-seeing eyes gazed upon the massive army with a frown, fighting and failing against the urge to whimper like a bitch at the circumstances that had forced his hand. The full moon was out tonight, the ephemeral stars dotting the skies and the cool night air allowing him the reprieve to gather his wits and think things clearly.
From the vanguard, their boys were 100,000 strong, standing at attention with their gleaming sarissa's pointed to the stars. Kitted and fitted in divine armaments straight from the forges of Hephaestus and Daedalus themselves, they were brought to heel as the nine great Kouretes and Chiron the Centaur Chief served as Strategoi for every ten thousand soldiers, with hundreds of minor gods and nature spirits bringing up the rear.
They were all mighty warriors, those soldiers. Greeks, Romans, Amazons, and Enhanced Mortals, molded and perfected by the hands of Prometheus himself, but they were fresh and untested. They'd be more akin to straw dummies in comparison to the eldritch abomination coming their way, and he should know.
Jason himself had lain to waste greater armies alongside the God calling for blood.
Following the ground troops were the Hunters and archers ringing the high walls, the glint of Celestial Bronze and Imperial Gold from hundreds of nocked bows catching his eye from his upper perch. If he looked hard enough, he could spy The Huntress constellation aiding the younger ones and adjusting their forms almost casually.
It was forced, but the young didn't need to know that. Tonight would be challenging enough; there was no need to pile more baggage onto their shoulders.
It was almost like the celestial body could feel his gazeup on her. Her head swung towards his position, her braid cracking at the air like a whip. A teasing expression formed on her beautiful, chocolate-brown face that made her look human despite her blazing, starlit eyes.
Jason had no idea how he'd convinced her to stand against Him of all people, but he appreciated her service. As well as the loyalty every one of his subjects had demonstrated to him in this endeavor.
Draco, Scorpio, Leo, Cygnus, Centaurus, Cetus, Aquila, Pegasus, the Huntress, the Ursas, the Canum, and so much more. He could feel every single one of them spread out across the battlefield, lapping at his energy and sharing their thoughts and reservations at the coming battle with him through their mind link.
They were risking death coming here, his subjects - Hades, the fact that Zeus of all gods had allowed him full access to the entirety of his domain was a worry in and of itself – but they would ride with him to the ends of the universe should the need ever call for it.
However, as he turned a skeptical eye to the gods flanking his sides, he couldn't help but think these assholes were going to be much more trouble than they were worth.
His immediate left and right were boxed in by Ares and Athena, Greek gods of Warcrimes and Warfare, respectively. Their robes and armor were styled with the red and blue accents of their favored cities, and their helmets were in the crooks of their arms as their blazing eyes roved over the skyline.
A warm blanket of supercharged energy pulsing at the speed of light as Aeolus and his wind spirits worked tirelessly to keep up their barrier, hoping to force their enemy to come up to them from the ground.
A noble effort, foolish but noble. They'd be the first ones to die once that psychopath ripped the very Heavens apart.
Following the war gods were Heracles, Hermes, Apollo, and Artemis, Heroes and Thieves, the Sun and the Moon. They would be a blow to morale if they fell here, and his trust in both Apollo and Hermes not ditching them should the opportunity arise didn't fill the son of Jupiter with much confidence.
He turned his head backward to the City of Gold and Marble, his eyes locking onto the central throne room's gates. Their final lifeline and the hiding place for the rest of the Olympians, guarded by Zeus' top enforcers: Bia, Kratos, Nike, and Zelus. The children of Styx.
His father was hiding there. Licking his wounds, physical and emotional, from the beating he'd received days ago after the assault he'd led on Percy's Realm.
The assault on Percy's Realm.
Of all the foolish things his genitor could have done...
Jason pinched at the bridge of his nose as he bemoaned the absurdity, a heavy yoke settling on his neck like a noose while he pondered where it had all gone wrong.
They'd been at peace; their factions, the man he was about to fight to the death, had ensured that. Yet he'd found himself dragged from his wife's lap and stuck with these schmucks in a war he wanted no part in because of his father's whims?
"We're setting them up for a massacre..." He whispered without thought, his features dark.
His brothers and sisters tensed at the ill omen, their disdain at his 'cowardice' clear, but he didn't care. He hadn't been an immortal long enough for their Machiavellian personalities to rub off on him.
If their major gripe with him was that he cared what happened to the bugs they were sending to a windshield, they could crucify him here and now.
"Don't tell me you're scared, brother?" Heracles voiced in disbelief, the flabbergasted expression not quite meshing with his snarling lion hide, "How were you ever made a God? Where is your pride?"
"You'd be a fool not to be, you fucking barbarian." Apollo chimed in support, his tanned fingers bone-white against his bow as his free hand tapped out a jaunty tune on the siege wall, "But I'd say it's a given for a halfwit like yourself."
Heracles' great fist tightened on the hilt of his studded club, his energy swelling like a ticking time bomb. The son of Zeus had never been shy with his contempt at living in both Percy's and his shadows, even more so when they'd ascended to stations so far above him it wasn't worth debating, but the sooner he got over his one-sided rivalry, the better for all of them.
Jason continued instead of Apollo, his eyes glued to the army, "The Destroyer of Destroyers, brother. He earned that title as a Mortal. And that was after the years he'd spent going through the Labors that had defined you like items on a Saturday shopping list."
Bless her cold heart, Artemis couldn't stifle the snort that followed the verbal lashing. Her 12-year-old face was as serene as a lake of ice as Jason side-eyed her, but he didn't miss the excited spark in her eyes at the prospect of the coming battle. It was the game-hunter in her, he supposed.
Either that or she was just grateful for the presence of Zoë Nightshade.
"He. Is. One. God. Father has ordained it," The God of Heroes bit out through gritted teeth, his legendary temper coming to bear as his siblings dogpiled on him, "You shame our Pantheon with your indecision now of all times? Stories and gossip can only carry the sea spawn so far; he will fall like all the others."
Jason gave the envious imbecile a look of scorn he reserved for only the most hopeless of fools, "If you truly believe that, then there's nothing for it; you'll be the first to die after he destroys the wind spirits."
"I dare you to repeat that yo-"
"ENOUGH!" Athena demanded, slamming the butt of her spear on the ground so hard it shook the fucking mountain.
The restless chatter of the army below ended abruptly as the Goddess of Wisdom glared at her siblings. Her stormy-grey eyes pierced through them before she shut them in disappointment.
"Alcides!" She barked, her head whipping to the meek God of Heroes, "Jason's advice is not one without merit. I will remind you that in the history of our Pantheon, only the two of them have ever been ordained Godhood by the Primordial of Fate herself. Even then, He does not carry his domains in jest. Underestimate him, and you will be joining Dionysus in Tartarus. Do I make myself clear, child?"
"...yes, Elder Sister."
"And you," She hissed as she swiveled towards Jason, her venomous scowl wiping off his smirk, "Get your head out of your ass and focus. Do you think he'll show you mercy for kowtowing to his triumphs?!"
"Even you can't be that obtuse, Athena, he's my-"
"Your brother. Your friend. Your rival, your equal and more, but as of right now, he is our enemy." She pointed her spear out to the skies, her voice harsh, "Right now, he's a blood-lusted fiend with the power to erase entire civilizations, hurtling down our way from the ashes of his kingdom with the birthday wish of annihilating all of us."
"The Percy I know would never do that."
"Dionysus begs to differ. Poseidon's entire kingdom begs to differ."
The riposte killed all wind in his sails, and the son of Jupiter felt his knees lose strength. He leaned on his spear and scrunched his eyes shut, trying and failing to erase the memory of Dionysus' brutalized corpse. Percy had...he had...
Athena placed a solemn hand on his shoulder in support, her grey eyes weary yet understanding, "Father's actions are deplorable, and once this battle is over, I'll be the first to call for his abdication from the throne, but I would be a fool if I couldn't discern the endgame of the Shinto's schemes. The means and ends can be debated upon later; right now, Olympus needs you, Jason. We need you."
His eyes swept over his siblings' faces, grim but determined, with even Heracles looking up to him as their ace-in-the-hole. As their Leader. He dapped at his cheeks and steeled himself; he couldn't fail here.
He was Jason Arcas, the Miracle Born from the Heavens—General of Olympus.
The 12th Olympian and the undisputed New God of the Stars, Constellations, Pressure, Battle, and Adventure. Ambassador of Asgard and Husband to Freyja, Goddess of Love. He wielded the spear of Odin, Gungnir, in one hand and moved with the will of the Skyfather, Zeus, in the other.
He couldn't afford to break here, not when the tiniest mote of hesitation could be all the difference between life and death. He had to win this battle here and now to ensure the people he'd sworn to protect had a shot of living past today.
He had to-
No sooner had he thought to put his resolve into action did Jason feel reality warp and shatter upon itself at a deafening war cry. The world lit up in violet, and the starlit sky became comparable to a spider's web as an overwhelming surge of Divine Authority tore apart the fabric of reality to its frayed roots.
Millions of tendrils of gold and blue lightning climbed up the skies alongside a bearded 'man' made up of cumulonimbus and cirrus clouds to push back the threat. The power of Aeolus and his entire entourage magnified to a storm of apocalyptic proportions before getting smacked aside like buzzing houseflies for the nuisance.
"Milords and Ladies, the barr-"
Athena's composure broke as she feared for the lives of the wind spirits, "Are you mad, Aeolus?! Get out of t-"
A cataclysmic boom ended further discussion, the skies lit up in gold and purple as the screams of hundreds of thousands of wind spirits burned alive by undying flames of violet played out like a lullaby for twisted daemons.
Φ Φ Φ
THE SLIGHTED GOD'S FURY DIDN'T END THERE.
Not at all. As Percy slammed onto the mountaintop with the explosive force of a supernova, the fallout of his landing sending literal meteors of supercharged stone covered in those accursed flames down to Earth.
Jason shut his eyes tight before he could witness the devastation, dreading the view, the explosions sounding out like free-fire AA rounds to his ears.
It was too much.
The needless death and destruction were intended to warn all of them of what was to come, to put an end to their foolishness before things got bloody, and it infuriated Jason.
The man he'd once recognized as his brother would never do this.
No matter what fury his greatest enemies had incited inside of him, he would've never considered using the lives of innocents to make a point.
Jason agreed with his Father's actions for the first and probably the last time.
Percy had become too dangerous to continue unchecked. The goodness that had placed him above the greatest of them had been snuffed out—and had been for a while now.
"Absolute power has ruined you, brother." He whispered softly, the words lost to the burning winds as his hold on his spear tightened. "SHIELDS LOCK!"
The order was taken up with gusto, and Olympus' empty streets echoed with the grinding and clanking of divine metals as the troops turtled upon themselves, their pikes trained on the billowing, smoky dust clouds.
An exasperated sigh followed their actions, and Jason could feel his old friend shaking his head.
"Stories turned into songs about our loss and pain." His voice called out, strong and self-assured. The inlaid power was enough to send the sturdiest of soldiers to their knees, "Bloodstained Heroes became hymnal Poems, before those too devolved into captured Fantasies, void of humanity and heart."
His footfalls sounded like crashing boulders against the marble pavement. The air became thin and oppressive as red lightning and purple fire lit up the gun-metal skies.
"Edge dulled, arms wearier. Tolls of blood I've more than paid by lives as countless as sand."
A thick bolt of lightning struck the mountain in the space between his army and the dust cloud, illuminating the son of Poseidon's silhouette for an instant. This allowed the public a glimpse at his glowing heterochromatic eyes, one shining an eerie acid-green and the other an unnerving shade of blood-red.
A heavy sigh relieved itself from his chest, thick and weighted, as he continued calmly, "For the longest time, all I've ever wanted was Freedom. Freedom from you all. From your sins and baggage. From your shackles and the demands that followed, and yet no matter how hard I fought, the release I'd prayed for had always eluded me. Weighed my worth and found me lacking."
"Because I couldn't hack it. Because I could never stand to let go of any of you. Because I couldn't help but be a Hero." Percy chuckled to himself, the gesture laced with mocking and scorn, "So I took it all. My mistakes and their consequences. The role the Gods had demanded of me and its responsibilities. Dealt with the lies and foolishness that had ruined them and fought to make the Realms a kinder place. To save you fools was my Burden, a yoke I'd long since accepted."
"But what I can't fathom, what I refuse to understand is...YOU BASTARDS DESTROYING MY HOME!"
The God followed the cry with a powerful horizontal slash of those undying flames once more, a biblical tsunami of fire a mile high smacking away the smokescreen and tearing at the marble and cobblestones like a man starved.
They'd underestimated him. Forget a minute, this battle wouldn't last a second if Jason didn't act now.
"HERMES!"
The God of Pressure and Battle didn't waste a moment waiting for his brother. He cleared the entire battlefield in a single leap, accumulating every ounce of power into Gungnirs' point, and tore his way downward. Not a moment too soon, as the sea of flames became a roaring tornado of unstable fire and winds straining to be released.
Its challenge would more than meet its match with Jason.
Gungnir found its prey's scent, and its master brought its might to bear, slamming down on the Heavens hard enough to split the skies and silence the howling doldrums for an instant. The flames tried and failed to spark to life, but Jason hadn't sought the divine weapon for a backscratcher.
Gungnir, like Ame-no-Ohabari, was a Weapon of the Beginning. It always sought to end the life of whatever opposition it set its sights upon.
Its modus operandi, if you would, was more akin to a heat-seeking missile rather than a thinking partner like Riptide, Ame-no-Ohabari, or even Mjolnir, but it got the job done. So long as Jason had the power and will for it, it didn't matter who it was, a god? Primordial? Chaos itself? His spear would never miss its mark.
Whether or not its mark was synonymous with a deathblow was up in the air.
Still, he'd never imagined his rival's powers would drain this much energy from him with a single strike. This? This wouldn't be a fight he'd be looking forward to, and oh, how that fact chafed at his pride.
Hermes appeared at his side in a blink, his robes and armor charred, and his open bits of skin sporting devastating burns. He looked like baked shit, and those wounds wouldn't be healing any time soon without their White Mage. Jason placed a calloused hand on his shoulder, a silent question in his sky-blue eyes.
The Messenger of the Gods rolled his eyes with a boyish snort, tapping Jason's arm in thanks as he promised: "I'll be fine after we deal with the bastard, little brother. Don't worry about me."
The jarring scrape of metal tearing straight through stone had Jason's body seizing up in alarm. His eyes shot to the last traces of fog as his old friend started a mocking, slow clap.
His feet were the first thing he saw, open-toed black boots stopping just above his shins, armored in greaves of gold, platinum, and leather strappings.
Smooth royal blue and black robes of Jorogumo Silk and Ryu Scales adorned his form in the majesty of a King. His black ceramic and gold drinking gourd and little seed sack on the side of his belt meshed with the ensemble as if by design.
The God carried no protections on his torso save a ceremonial shoulder pauldron, a waist guard, and a pair of weighted leather and platinum gauntlets. Yet, Jason doubted the absence would hinder him in any way.
He was the Ambassador of Takamagahara. The King of Explorers and Conquerors.
The Anomalous Singularity, Exalted Above the Heavens.
He was Perseus Nomos, the New God of-
"Bang up job up there, Jace. Five stars."
The nickname, coupled with the shitty pun, had Jason's vision glitching, the hologram of a scarred, but grinning prepubescent boy of about 7 years old, with innocent sea-green eyes and wild, windswept jet-black hair overwhelming him. In some regards his brother hadn't changed much, while in others...
The man before him was tall and broad-shouldered, standing at a godly height of eight feet with the muscular build of an Olympic swimmer. He looked to be in his late 20s, his face chiseled and handsome. Unblemished, save for an array of lilac markings under each of his eyes. His wild, jet-black mane blew epically in the wind like a waving flag, the man unbothered by the obstruction as he sized up Jason with a tired yet fond smile.
"Percy..." was all the General could offer in response, words failing him the longer he was forced to bear the sight of his best friend. His eyes looked dead. Dull and dark without any pupils in the center.
Hermes held no such biases, however. His voice was hoarse yet carried an undercurrent of steel: "The corpses of the dead aren't even ashes yet, and you have the balls to joke on their graves? How far you've fallen, Percy Jackson."
If the words bothered the son of Poseidon, his demeanor didn't show it. He chose, instead, to give Hermes a once-over, his heterochromatic orbs lingering on the worst of the Olympian's injuries before he tossed his drinking gourd over to him with a flick of his wrist.
"Drink." He demanded, continuing at Hermes' confused expression, "Don't look so surprised, Chicken Legs; I'm not in the business of picking on the weak and disabled. I leave such 'compulsions' in your people's capable hands."
Tempers flared in the ranks of their army at the verbal lashing, Chiron having to raise his voice to hold back the more battle-hungry fools from making an irreversible mistake. Their 'bravery' was admirable, but they'd only be moths to a bonfire taking Percy head-on; it was best they left him for the Gods to handle while providing support from the sidelines.
Still, though, Jason would have preferred it if the two twin beams of blood-red and arctic-blue energy didn't come crashing down beside him.
The red one in particular.
"You don't do things by half, do you Punk?" The God of War exclaimed with an appreciative whistle, his blazing eyes sweeping over the sky of blazing corpses with an excited smile, "I'm so gonna miss you when you're dead."
"The air of Olympus clouds your thinking, Ares. You fools could never make me sweat."
Ares' malevolent energy skyrocketed with his mania as a blood-red greatsword materialized in his palm, bigger and broader than Percy's (because, of course, it was). As he took an earth-cratering step towards the threat, he found his way blocked by Athena's golden spear, her grey eyes hard enough to disintegrate a wall of adamantine.
"Arrogance is a look that does no wonders for you, Percy Jackson. You won't live to regret it, I'm afraid."
"Are you sure? You kinda have a history of being wrong about me, your Owlishness."
The title was technically correct, but it was voiced with so much contrariety it would've been less insulting for him to label her Your Foolishness instead.
Athena's imperial nostrils flared, her composed facade cracking as the urge to strangle the brat before her intensified, "You can't possibly believe you'll prevail in this pointless vendetta, can you?"
Percy's counter was a vicious smirk as he waved the little seed sack on his belt their way. He shook the bag free of its contents, a wave of dread passing over the Olympians as weighty sets of distinctly colored armor pieces, far bigger than what the seed sack's tiny opening promised, bounced off the pavement around Percy's feet.
"Keep those bright eyes open, Goddess," His voice echoing with a promise of pain as his magic and flames imbalanced the Realms, "I don't want you to miss a second of how I'll slaughter every sewer rat in this fucking Pantheon!"
The song of power reached an almighty crescendo as fire, lightning, and brimstone made their home upon Olympus. Skin-shearing winds forced the army of Olympus backward several steps for fear of being vivisected or sent flying off the mountain.
Brave Ares, stupid Ares, laughed in the face of the challenge, a manic smile touching the edges of his harshest scars as he leaped into the air and brought his sword down on Percy's head.
Only to find his weapon ground to a halt as an armored giant blocked his attack with its gauntlet.
The man-beast was tall by giant standards, reaching up to 20 feet as he backhanded Ares to a faraway column like a redheaded stepchild. Clad in lacquer blue robes and armor, with a great labrys axe and a golden nose ring to match, he was the Guardian of the Labyrinth.
Asterius the Minotaur, son of Zeus and Pasiphae.
Faster than Jason could perceive, two streaks of ash-grey and dull-bronze armor blurred their way past him and brought a mostly recovered Hermes to his knees, their flaming twin blades trained on his neck, ankles, and torso. He recalled those two from Percy's stories and how much the son of Poseidon had praised their speed and agility.
They were the Twin Wings of the Ashborn Monarch, Igris the Callous, and Regis the Feared. Terrifying swordsmen in their own right but fabled for their explosive guerilla tactics, speed, and snake-like cunning.
Finally, in front of Percy knelt the towering Lord of the Old Order, Kaiser the Unerring. The chinks in his bulky black armor, faceplate, and gauntlets highlighted by Percy's flames. The single most powerful warrior in his arsenal, Percy had never dared fighting him. The legendary emperor had sought the New God out of his own volition to swear his fealty to him.
They were Percy's greatest apostles, the highest Marshals of his army, and the most dire of omens. Percy only called for all of them when he wasn't planning on holding back.
When he wished to raze.
"Spare me the prattle; the chatter of walking corpses means nothing to me. Hear me, Olympus! Those below, the worms above, until that senile old fool crawls out from underneath his rock, ALL OF YOU WILL ENTERTAIN ME!"
The promise shook the celestial city to the bedrock, and Jason knew the time for words and compromise had passed. Now was the time for action.
He closed his eyes and sighed, the surrounding air pressure intensifying to an unbearable degree, warping the armor of his friends and allies upon their bodies, "Very well then..."
The prepubescent hologram was still right before him, his old friend's crooked grin tearing at his heart as the boy extended a hand in greeting towards him.
Jason's body blinked out of existence, crossing the ever-expanding distance between them in the space of an attosecond. The armies of Olympus took up the charge, with his siblings, the Kouretes, and ground troops surging forward as a hail mary of thousands upon thousands of arrows blotted out the sky.
But the troops might as well have been white noise, for all that mattered was the two of them.
It had always been the two of them.
'My sperm donor showed me this really cheesy way for us to say 'hi'. It goes like this-'
Ame-no-Ohabari flew into her master's waiting palm just as Jason tore down Gungnirs edged spearhead to cleave his brother in two, their synchronized voices howling out their favored challenge, "LET THE SKY GREET THE SEA!"
Time slowed to a crawl, like a fly in amber, as their powers shook the Realms. The infinitesimal space between their twin weapons of destruction only widening as forked tongues of red and blue lightning strained and fractured the fabric of reality...before an explosion of divine light engulfed Olympus whole and blinded the world below.
Φ Φ Φ
AND CUT!
Woo, that ought to do it. And I managed to keep it between 6000 words, too. Oh, happy day!
Before YCOYW became what it was, before I decided on what kind of story I wanted to tell, I drafted out five endings for how I wanted it to go. This was one of them, Percy losing his shit and deciding that Olympus has got to go. For the longest time, it was the canon ending for YCOYW.
Obviously, I changed my mind long before I started writing YCOYW and stood by the decision even after my ambitions for it started putting belt to ass. My ass to be specific, I need a fucking Tylenol from that fic.
(I want to say my thoughts and sensibilities maturing over time influenced the change, but I'd be lying.)
So, we have this weighty chunk of text to observe. Completely removed from YCOYW, we open to a very AU Percy and Jason at the peaks of their power and the divine world in general.
(As freaking New Gods, too. Talk about climbing up the ladder.)
Two Brothers forced on opposing sides of a conflict they don't want to get lost in...well one of them at least, but that's a plot thread for another day.
If you turn your attention to the top left of this chapter, just below the slab for the Browse bar, I'm sure you'll notice the little crossover blurb for PJO and the Justice League.
Yes, that was intentional. Percy will be taking an extended vacation in the villain-ridden paradise of DC's Earth-12. Slaying demons, criminals, and rock-faced Tyrants, bossing around shadow cults, mentoring naive Kryptonians, bedding Amazonian princesses, world-class assassins, and what have you.
Livin la vida loca indeed.
While the problems of his original world are pressing in their own right, putting aside the shitload of politics and the unresolved shitstorm Percy is leaving behind to the suckers on high, I won't be touching on it for a while. Percy's focus will be on his new home for the foreseeable future, at least until...
This story isn't going to be your average isekai, though. Percy went to all-out war against an entire Pantheon, there will be disastrous consequences.
And even then, there's a lot of history to unpack about his upbringing in this AU. Putting aside his dynamic with Jason, I didn't put him in a godly polycule for the vibes.
But, like I'm sure you saw in YCOYW's AN, this story is only a fun little distraction for whenever I'm stuck with writer's block. I am kind of interested in writing it, though, and if the reception is favorable enough, I'd be open to putting more work into it, but updates will mostly depend on my mood, not out of obligation.
Anyway, I hope you all enjoy the chapter. Thanks for reading, and please leave a review. Your praise or scorn fuels me. (You were magnificent CL099s. I'll never forget you for as long as I live.)
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, and I'll catch you guys later,
Dev.