As Percy walked in he saw a figure shimmering in the light, a goddess with golden hair and a soft, enchanting smile.

"Aphrodite," Percy muttered under his breath, not quite sure what to expect.

The goddess of love, beauty, and all things romantic stepped forward with a knowing smile, her presence almost overwhelming. "Percy Jackson," she said in a voice like honey, "you haven't come to visit! Where have you been?"

Percy raised an eyebrow. "I've just been doing my thing. You know, saving the world. No big deal."

Aphrodite's smile widened. "Oh, it's always a big deal when you're involved, Percy. But I'm not here to talk about your heroics. I'm here to give you a gift."

"A gift?" Percy blinked. "From you?"

"Of course," she said. "Love, after all, is a powerful force. And you've experienced it in many forms. Friendship, loyalty, even the love of family. But there's also the kind of love that can carry a person through anything." She held out her hand, and in her palm appeared a delicate silver necklace. The pendant was a heart, but it glowed with an ethereal light, shifting in color as though it contained every emotion in the world.

"That necklace will protect you in ways you cannot imagine," Aphrodite explained. "Should you find yourself in trouble, simply smash the necklace and think of safe place, and you shall be transported there."

Percy could only stand there in shock. It turned out, the goddess wasn't all about lust and seduction.

"Now, how about you meet me at my palace tonight and you can get your real gift." She purred.

And she was back to normal.

Before Percy could say anything in response, the goddess of love kissed him on the cheek and disappeared in a swirl of golden light. Percy stood there, staring at the necklace in his hand. The idea that a gift from Aphrodite could actually be something other than romantic was a bit of a surprise, but he could sense the power in the delicate charm.

He slipped the necklace over his head and tucked it under his shirt, thinking it might be useful in the future.

He was then promptly pulled aside by Apollo, who gave him a crushing hug.

"Percy!" He exclaimed, "my favourite immortal! Have I ever told you how much I love you? Because bro, I love you! You're my best friend! And she's going to take you away and not let me spend time with my bro."

Great,thought Percy as Apollo continued rambling on,he's drunk.

"Now where was I? Ah yes, here. Dionysus' finest bottle of wine. You don't know how many favours I had to pull to get this. How about we open it next weekend. Actually how about now?"

"I think you've had enough," Percy said with a laugh, "how about we open this next time we catch up?"

Apollo grinned and nodded at that, before stumbling off, yelling about trying to find his sister.

He saw Hermes beckon him over, and Percy had to fight through a crowd of people to reach the nimble god.

"How you holding up Perce?" Hermes asked with genuine concern. Percy let out a massive groan and Hermes laughed, "don't worry man, it'll all be over soon enough." Percy could only let out a relieved smile.

"Now, I got you a little something. I know you don't like gifts, so I decided to get you something practical. Here," he handed Percy a golden ring, "twist it." Upon twisting the ring, a magnificent celestial bronze shield materialised. Percy could only look at it with awe.
"I take it you like it then," Hermes laughed. They dapped eachother up before Hermes had to excuse himself, the messenger god was always busy.

Percy finally reached his favourite god, who had a wide smile and embraced him in a solid hug. "My son, how are you?" Poseidon asked.

"I feel like I'm about to drop." Percy said honestly. Poseidon let out a hearty laugh, eliciting a grin from Percy. "How's Sally?"
The god knew Sally had found love with that mortal, Blowfish, wasn't it? Whilst he was happy for her, he was sad. He had truly loved her.

Percy's eyes lit up. He loved his mum. "She's great. It's been ages since I've seen her last, so I'm not looking forward to dealing with reaction." They both shuddered.

"Anyway, my boy, I've gotten you a little something." He presented a sword to Percy, who took it with an inquisitive look. At first, it looked like a pretty stock standard sword. It had a large pearl on its hilt.

"Now, press the pearl."

Percy did so and what was once a plain sword was now a mighty trident, befitting the son of the sea god.

"It was forged by your younger brother, Tyson, and blessed by me." Poseidon said proudly, "you can store it as a sand dollar and simply will it be either a sword, or, trident."

Percy was grateful beyond belief, "Thankyou, dad." He said emotionally as he hugged Poseidon. Poseidon let out a booming laugh and hugged him back, before bidding him farewell.

The halls of Olympus glittered with golden light, the gleaming marble floors reflecting the celestial magic that flowed through the very walls of the gods' palace. Every inch of the place was a testament to divine splendor, from the intricate carvings of ancient myths on the walls to the intoxicating scents of ambrosia and nectar that wafted through the air. But despite the grandeur surrounding him, Percy Jackson felt disconnected, as though the weight of this place had somehow made him smaller rather than greater.

He stood in the middle of the great hall, surrounded by the gods, each one an ethereal being of light and power. Poseidon, his father, had just gifted him a powerful new weapon, a sword forged from the depths of the ocean, radiant and deadly. It felt heavy in his hand, a reminder of everything he had already done and everything still to come. But as he looked at it, Percy couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't just a weapon; it was another piece of armor he had to wear, another symbol of the endless battles he would never fully escape.

Every weapon, every godly gift was a reminder that the war was never really over. The world would always need protecting, and no matter how much he wanted to be a normal kid, a part of him knew that wouldn't ever happen.

Percy glanced out the windows of the hall, beyond the towering marble columns and the beautiful, impossible landscapes of Olympus. The view was breathtaking, but it didn't comfort him. The mortal world below felt both so far away and so close, as though he were living on the edge of two realities, always balancing on the precipice between them. The gods, immortal and distant, lived their lives above it all, disconnected from the daily struggles of the people they ruled. And Percy... Percy had been born into this world, caught in the middle of everything, with one foot in the mortal realm and the other in the divine.

He looked back to where the gods were still celebrating, praising him and the other heroes for their victories during the last war with the Titans. The Olympians—Hera, Apollo, Artemis, Hephaestus, Demeter, even Zeus himself—mingled with the demigods who had participated in the battle. It was a far cry from the chaos that had once consumed these halls, but Percy couldn't shake the gnawing feeling that something wasn't quite right.

"Percy, join us!" Dionysus called from across the room, holding up a goblet filled with a sparkling drink that had all the colors of a sunset swirling in it. His face was flushed with the effects of too much wine, but his voice had an enthusiastic edge to it.

Percy smiled back politely but shook his head. "Maybe later," he muttered, his thoughts clouded with something heavier than the carefree celebrations around him.

He had healed before, after all. He had healed from the war, from the losses, from the grief of losing his friends and watching those around him suffer. But there was always more to heal. Always another scar. Another wound to tend to. And in the end, the healing only ever felt temporary, like a bandage on a wound that had never really gone away.

"Everything all right?" Hermes' voice broke through Percy's thoughts. The god of travelers appeared beside him, leaning against the pillar with a mischievous grin on his face. Hermes was always the picture of easygoing confidence, dressed in a simple tunic with his winged sandals peeking out from beneath the hem. His presence was both comforting and disconcerting—he was lighthearted, yes, but also wise beyond measure.

Percy turned toward him, offering a half-smile. "Yeah. Just... thinking."

Hermes raised an eyebrow. "Thinking? Is that something you're usually good at?"

Percy chuckled dryly, shaking his head. "Not really. But sometimes I can't help it."

Hermes chuckled in return. "I hear you. We all need our moments. You've done more than enough, Percy. We've all seen what you're capable of." He tilted his head, eyes glinting mischievously. "Though, you always seem to be running away from it."

"I'm not running away," Percy said, a hint of defensiveness in his voice. "I just—" He paused, trying to find the words that always seemed to escape him. "I just don't want to be the hero anymore. I don't want to be the guy who saves the day. Not all the time."

Hermes' expression softened. "I get it. But you know as well as I do, Percy, that the world doesn't work like that. You can't escape who you are. And maybe you don't want the weight of being the hero, but... it's part of the deal."

Percy stared out over the balcony, at the sprawling world beyond Olympus. The mortal world. The world that had shaped him, that had molded him into the person he had become. And the world that had always seemed just out of reach whenever he was caught in the chaos of Olympus. "I never asked for any of this," he muttered, more to himself than to Hermes.

"No one ever does," Hermes agreed. "But it's your destiny. And you've got a way of making it work, even when it feels impossible."

Percy didn't answer immediately. He thought about all the times he had faced impossible odds. The Titan War. The battle with Kronos. The quest to save the world countless times. And somehow, despite the odds, he had always pulled through, always managed to survive. But what did that really mean? Was it just luck? Or was there something more to it? Maybe the gods had their reasons, their cosmic schemes that didn't make sense to him. Or maybe—just maybe—he had learned to do the impossible because he had never given himself the option to fail.

"I just wish it wasn't always this way," Percy said quietly, the words spilling out before he could stop them. "I'm tired, Hermes. Tired of fighting. Tired of the endless wars. I'm not... I'm not sure who I am without it. Without the battle, without the monsters. Without all this."

Hermes stood quietly beside him, letting the silence stretch between them. He didn't rush to offer advice or platitudes. The truth was, Percy's feelings were complicated, and sometimes, even the gods didn't have the answers.

"Maybe you don't need to know who you are without it," Hermes finally said, his voice unusually soft. "Maybe you just need to know who you are right now. You've done enough. You've given more than anyone could ask for. And you're still standing. That's something."

Percy took a deep breath, letting the weight of Hermes' words sink in. He had spent so much of his life looking for meaning, for answers, for some clear path forward. But maybe there wasn't one. Maybe there was just the here and now. Maybe he didn't have to figure out everything at once. Maybe he could just... be.

"You ever get tired of being a god?" Percy asked, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

Hermes chuckled. "You'd be surprised. But I'm still here, aren't I? We all are. And we do what we can."

Percy nodded. There was something comforting about that. Something real. The gods, despite their immortality, were still part of the same complicated tapestry of existence that he was. They had their own struggles, their own questions. And maybe, just maybe, they weren't all so different from him after all.

"Thanks, Hermes," Percy said, his voice quieter now. "I guess I needed to hear that."

Hermes gave him a wink. "Anytime, kid. Just don't forget that, even though the world asks a lot from you, you're still allowed to live it. One step at a time."

Percy looked down at the sword at his side once more, the weight of it reminding him of the path he had walked, the challenges ahead. But this time, it didn't feel quite as suffocating. Maybe he would never be just a normal kid. But he didn't have to be a hero all the time either.

"Maybe I'll stick around for a little longer," Percy said, straightening up. "There's no rush to leave, I suppose."

Hermes smiled, his expression lightening. "Now that's the spirit.

Percy ran back into Artemis outside the throne room, and they once again found themselves chatting, though this time was much more lighthearted. She too gave him a gift, a simple hunting knife, before bidding him farewell on the precedence she had spent far too much time away from her hunt.

Percy found Apollo perched lazily on a golden banister, strumming a lyre that seemed to glow with the warmth of sunlight. His golden hair shimmered as though it was made from actual rays of the sun, and his eyes sparkled with mischievous energy. He was singing a tune—something catchy, lively, and upbeat—while occasionally throwing a wink at passing gods and demigods. He had finally sobered up.

Percy couldn't help but smile. Apollo had a certain charm about him, a charisma that made him impossible to ignore. He was everything Percy wasn't: carefree, charismatic, always in motion, and never without a joke on his lips. It was like being in the presence of an endless summer day, one that never ended.

"Hey, Percy!" Apollo called out, noticing him from across the room. "Come join the party! You look like you could use a little sunshine."

Percy snorted, shaking his head. "I get enough sunshine, thank you. You don't have to rub it in."

He approached the god, leaning casually against the pillar beside him. Apollo, grinning widely, patted the space next to him on the banister.

His eyes narrowed when he saw what Percy was holding. "What's that Perce?" He asked.

"What? Oh, this? Lady Artemis gave it to me just now. Between you and me though, I've got enough weapons to last a lifetime." Percy laughed. Apollo didn't. He held out his hand and gestured to the knife. Percy reluctantly handed it over, watching as his eyebrows raised higher and higher before disappearing under a mop of blond hair. "What's the matter?" Percy asked.

"This is one of my sisters personal hunting knives." Apollo said seriously.

"What? She must've made a mistake then. I'll find her and return and explain that I never stole it."

Apollo handed back the knife before chuckling, "No, Artemis doesn't make mistakes. For whatever reason, she gave it to you deliberately," he had a thoughtful expression on his face, but quickly replaced it with a grin, and with a teasing tone said "What are you doing out here anyway? How about I'll play you a tune that'll put a smile on that brooding face of yours. You're looking like you need it."

"I'm not brooding," Percy replied defensively, but the corners of his mouth tugged upward. "I just—" He sighed, "I guess I'm tired of all the celebrating. It's like, one minute we're saving the world, and the next we're here in Olympus, being treated like some kind of immortal heroes. It's exhausting."

Apollo chuckled, his laughter light and infectious. "Ah, I get it. You've been saving the world, and now you're feeling a little… well, over-celebrated. That's the problem with being a hero. People love you in the moment, but they never give you time to relax afterward. But that's where I come in!"

He strummed a few notes on his lyre, a melody so upbeat that it was impossible not to feel the rhythm pulsing in your chest. "Percy, my man, if you're going to survive this life, you've got to learn how to enjoy the perks. And trust me, being a demigod with the gods on your side has perks."

Percy raised an eyebrow. "Like what? Free nectar and ambrosia? The occasional new sword or shield?"

Apollo grinned. "Well, yes, but also—this!"

He raised his lyre dramatically, as if unveiling some grand treasure. With a flourish, he began to play a song, and the melody swirled through the air like sunlight itself. Percy's mood lifted almost immediately. He wasn't sure how or why it happened, but there was something about Apollo's presence, about the pure, unadulterated joy in his music, that made everything feel lighter. His fingers moved effortlessly across the strings, weaving a tune that danced in the air like a butterfly, light and carefree.

"Is that—" Percy started, his mouth twitching upward as he recognized the tune. "Is that 'Eye of the Tiger' you're playing?"

Apollo winked. "You know it, my man. A classic! I like to play a little bit of everything. Pop, rock, ballads, you name it. I'm a god of the sun, after all, but I'm also a connoisseur of good tunes."

Before Percy could react, Apollo began playing even faster, his hands moving in a blur as the tempo picked up. "Come on, Percy! Get with the program. You can't just listen to this song. You've got to feel it!" Apollo sang the last few lines of the chorus, his voice soaring, "Risin' up, back on the street, did my time, took my chances!"

Percy stared at him for a moment before laughing out loud. "You're unbelievable," he said, shaking his head. Apollo's energy was so contagious that, for the first time that night, Percy felt something in him stir—something that wasn't heavy or burdened, something that was just light.

Apollo gave him a mock serious look. "You're a demigod, Percy. You've survived how many wars now? You've saved the world more times than I've had a good sunbath. It's time you learned to appreciate the good stuff!"

Percy couldn't argue with that. He clapped his hands once, getting into the rhythm of the song. "Alright, alright. I get it. So, what's next?"

Apollo grinned. "Simple. A game."

"A game?" Percy asked, eyebrow raised.

Apollo pulled back, giving him a sly smile. "I'm the god of archery, remember? But it's not just about hitting the target. It's about how fun we can make it." He snapped his fingers, and a target appeared in front of them, floating in midair. "You and me, first one to hit the bullseye wins."

Percy smirked. "Are you sure you want to go against me? You know I'm kind of a natural with a sword, and I've been getting pretty good with a bow lately."

"Ha!" Apollo scoffed. "Bow skills? Please. You're going down, Jackson."

Percy was about to retort when Apollo snapped his fingers again, and two long, golden bows appeared in their hands. Apollo's bow gleamed with the brilliance of the sun, while Percy's was a more modest design—still a fine weapon, but nothing like the celestial gold that the gods wielded.

"You go first, kid," Apollo said, motioning toward the floating target.

Percy raised his bow, focusing on the target in front of him. He felt a surge of confidence, like this wasn't just some godly contest but something fun. Something he could actually enjoy. Taking a deep breath, he nocked an arrow and drew the string back, aiming carefully at the bullseye. The arrow flew through the air with perfect precision, and—thwip!—it struck the target, right at the center.

"Ha!" Percy said, grinning. "Did you see that, Apollo? That's how you do it."

Apollo's eyes widened in mock surprise. "Whoa, kid! You've got some skills." He twirled his own bow expertly and aimed at the target. But instead of shooting in a straight line, Apollo let the arrow sail into the air, curving around like a boomerang, before landing perfectly in the bullseye.

"Top that," Apollo said, smiling smugly.

Percy rolled his eyes. "You cheated, didn't you?"

"Cheat? Me? Never. I'm offended you'd even accuse me of that Perce." Apollo winked, his playful smile widening. "It's just a little divine intervention. Not everyone has the skill to pull off a trick shot like that."

"Okay, okay," Percy said, laughing. "I'll give you that one. But I'm definitely not letting you win again."

The two of them spent the next few hours laughing, joking, and going back and forth with their target-shooting challenge. Apollo's antics were infectious, and before long, Percy forgot about the weight of the world on his shoulders. He was just having fun, enjoying the moment, the freedom of being in a place where he didn't have to save anyone or protect anything—just two people, shooting arrows for the fun of it. He missed these little moments. He used to spend his time with his mum, and as he got older, he would spend it horsing about at camp with his friends. These moments were few and far between now.

As the last arrow sailed through the air and they both missed the bullseye for what had to be the tenth time, Apollo slapped Percy on the back, grinning. "You've got some serious potential. Maybe I should take you on as my apprentice."

Percy smiled, feeling lighter than he had in days. "I'm not sure you'd be a good influence on me."

"Good?" Apollo said with mock offense. "I'm great for you! You just need a little more sunshine in your life, and I'm here to provide it."

Percy shook his head, grinning. "I think I've had enough of that for today."

Apollo raised his hands dramatically. "Okay, okay. But the offer still stands."

"Thanks, Apollo. You're… a weird god, but you're definitely not boring."

"Damn straight," Apollo replied, with a wink. "Now, go have some fun for once, Percy. You deserve it."

As Apollo walked off, still strumming his lyre, Percy took a deep breath. The weight of the world was still out there, looming in the distance, but for this brief moment in time, he didn't have to worry about it. Apollo had reminded him of something simple but important: sometimes, it's okay to take a break. And that was a gift in and of itself.

thoughts?