"You can open your eyes now," Hermes said.

Percy looked around the room, squinting hard at the bright white pillars and marble floor. He was on Olympus, that much he knew for certain—but this wasn't someplace he'd been before. It was much smaller than the throne room. It looked more like the inside of the Parthenon, or at least the fake one he'd visited in Tennessee.

He held a hand up to block the white colors. It had been so long since he'd seen anything other than Ogygia's yellow sand and blue oceans. Percy felt like he should be terrified, but after spending so many years with Calypso, he'd had a lot of time to think things over. All of the bullies, all of the monsters–they didn't scare him anymore. And now he had something to fight for.

"So, where's Zeu-"

Percy spun around, but Hermes had disappeared, leaving him alone with the echo of his voice. He sat on the marble floor, waiting for what felt like an hour. Usually, he couldn't sit still, but patience was something he'd learned a lot of lately.

His mind wandered, and his patience turned to worry. Did the gods forget about him? Maybe they never wanted to make him a god, and Hermes had lied to him. But then again, he'd never been that way. Hermes might be deft, but he wasn't a liar. He'd probably been the nicest to him out of all the gods, except for his father of course.

Somewhere in the hall, Percy heard footsteps. He stood up quickly. His hand instinctively went for Riptide, but he curled his fists. That wouldn't be necessary. Not anymore. He followed the noise, careful not to surprise whoever was wandering the corridors. The last thing he wanted was to be turned into a pile of ash by a startled god.

Percy got a glimpse of a robed figure before it turned the corner. The closer he went, the more he felt his shoulders drop. A warmth began to creep into his body, deep within his bones. The fear from before melted away. When he came around the bend, Percy stopped. The robed figure removed her hood, kneeling in front of the fireplace. Small stones surrounded the alcove. The smoke smelt like fresh forest air, almost like camp half-blood. Anywhere else, the room would've looked out of place.

"Come, demigod. Sit." The woman spoke softly.

She turned to face Percy. He recognized her as Hestia.

"Hestia," Percy said, "I'm sorry. I didn't know you were here."

"I am in every home, every place of warmth. Places like these are important…especially during times such as these."

"That's why I'm here," Percy took a seat on one of the stones, "to help you. The gods."

"You risk much to be here." Her face held a mixture of sorrow and gratitude. "We owe you our thanks."

Percy watched the flames flicker on the wall. His fatigue began to turn into contentment, and his longing into solace.

"The gods could not find you. But I knew where you were all along." Hestia smiled. "Like I said, I am in every home. Including yours on Ogygia."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because you were not ready," she said. "Peace is not something that can be rushed. It takes time and trust. Every fire, every warm embrace–I feel a part of it too. Folly is a battle when it is fought without love."

Percy thought for a moment. To him, the gods always seemed so mystic, difficult to comprehend. But maybe that was simply because he hadn't lived long enough to understand. Now it was like a veil had been lifted, and though he couldn't put it into words, he knew what it was like to be immortal.

"Do you know where Zeus is?"

"He is fighting Typhon. The other gods are preparing for battle."

"Will he be back soon?"

Hestia paused for a moment before speaking. "Do you understand why we need your help, Percy Jackson?"

"Kronos is coming back. You're shorthanded. You need someone to lead the fight–somebody powerful, somebody who can stand up to Kronos. Somebody who knows him."

She nodded.

"Typhon is no ordinary monster. He is a primordial force of chaos and destruction. Even all of us working together can hardly contain him. Percy, if you do not succeed, Olympus will be destroyed. If we do not defeat Typhon, it will be destroyed anyway. Our survival depends on both of our success."

Percy nodded gravely.

"Zeus knows you are here, but he cannot risk diverting his attention. I, on the other hand, am a goddess of peace. I cannot fight. However, I can assist in other ways. You were promised godhood, and you shall have it."

Hestia stood up, placing her hand on Percy's shoulder.

"Come."

She took his hand and drew it towards the fireplace. Percy recoiled at first, expecting to get burned. But instead, the flames wrapped around him like silk. It was like when he had taken his first breath underwater.

"Through the flames, the mettle of the gold shall be tested. Bend to its will or yield to its ego. If the fire deems you impure, you will turn to ash, and your soul will become but a fragment of life's heart."

Great, Percy thought to himself. He wasn't scared; he just wished that his father could've been here to watch him.

Without warning, the flames erupted into a column, turning a bright golden yellow. Percy found himself in the center of the vortex. The fire whispered as it curled around him, each one an image from his own life: his mom making blue pancakes, him discovering Grover's horns for the first time, him saving Annabeth on Mount Othrys, and the three of them celebrating their first quest together by sneaking out of camp. Then the bad memories flooded in: how he failed to save Bianca, how he couldn't stop Luke, how so many of his friends had left to join Kronos's army. He felt guilty, even though he knew there was nothing he could do about it.

Then he saw camp-half blood. Chiron was there, alongside Dionysus. The campers gathered around the docks. Their clothes were tattered and burnt. The buildings behind them were mostly destroyed. The plants and strawberry fields had been trampled and ripped apart. Chiron and a couple of other campers carried body bags, gently placing them inside a canoe, and then when it was full, another one. Beckendorf pushed them into the lake with a grunt. Chiron, along with what was left of the Apollo cabin, launched a volley of flaming arrows, each one striking a canoe and setting it ablaze. Everyone watched in silence as their friends drifted off towards the center of the lake.

Percy felt the fire grow warmer, as if it was starting to burn his skin. He felt anger rise in his chest. This was Kronos's fault–he knew it. He wasn't there to protect them when they needed him. Or maybe this hadn't happened at all. Maybe this was all a vision–a possible future, like a dream of some sort.

He took a breath. Calypso. That was the reason he was here. Not for the gods, not for himself, and not even for his mom. He was here for Calypso. He was here to help his friends.

They had talked numerous times about his life in the mortal world. Even after his decision to stay, Percy felt guilty for leaving everyone behind. He was just a kid then. Calypso told him she understood, offering nothing but patience and love. In retrospect it must've driven her crazy. Percy smiled to himself, because at first he thought she was just stuck-up.

He saw the moon on Ogygia, beautiful and clear in the night sky. There wasn't any pollution here, unlike Manhattan. The stars were so bright that Percy could see in the dark. Bioluminescence lit the ocean a shining blue, all the way down towards coral reefs where silhouettes of fish swam by. And sitting in the sand beside him was Calypso, who rested her head on his shoulder.

Around him, the images in the fire twisted into something else, something Percy didn't fully recognize. He saw Ogygia, but it looked different. A two-story house was where their cottage used to be. The garden was much larger, almost reaching the bottom of the hill. Smoke rose from the chimney. The scent of cut vegetables and basil drifted through the open door, inviting Percy inside. He could hear children laughing, and then the sound of Calypso's voice.

On top of the hill, there were four swings instead of two. There were two large ones for him and Calypso, and then two smaller ones, both for his children. Another possible future.

Percy closed his eyes. For the first time in his life, he felt calm. Years of fear and anger melted away. The heat of the vortex subsided, turning into a gentle touch on his skin. The fire began to glow white and whiter still, until adrenaline filled his heart alongside a piercing joy. For a moment, Percy thought he might explode–until the column of fire seeped down into the hearth, disappearing entirely. He opened his eyes to find Hestia smiling at him. Then, to his surprise, she knelt.

"All hail Perseus Jackson, God of the Tides and Protector of Warriors."