Chapter 6:

Annabeth POV:

I've been watching him ever since he came back from Delos, from her. And now, as I stand here, it starts to hit me—maybe I've been wrong. I was so sure, so convinced that Percy had changed, that the darkness I saw in Tartarus had taken him over completely. But now, seeing him like this, lighter and more at ease… I'm starting to wonder if it was really him that changed. Maybe I just pushed him away when we needed each other the most. I was too wrapped up in my own pain, too focused on my own struggle to notice what I was doing. I didn't see how much he was still trying, how much he still was Percy. And now, with that clarity, regret washes over me. How did I not realize it sooner? How did I not see that maybe it wasn't him slipping away, but me pushing him out?

I pull my arms around myself, trying to shake the creeping feeling that I should've done more. That I should've cared more.

He's standing by the rail, staring out over the water, and for a moment, everything feels almost peaceful. But then, like a curse, the memory surfaces—unbidden and inescapable. Tartarus. His eyes blazing with fury, the way he fought through the poison, the viciousness with which he lashed out at Akhlys. I didn't want to see it then, but there was something satisfied in his gaze, something that still unsettles me. It clings to me, like the shadows of the pit still haunt my mind, refusing to let go. Even now, as he stands there, looking so much like the boy I once knew, that memory wraps around my throat, tightening its grip—a reminder I can't seem to shake.

It was subtle at first, that darkness. A flicker in his gaze when he fought too hard, too ruthlessly. I didn't notice it immediately, but after we reunited in New Rome, it became clearer—like something in him had hardened. Almost like he'd been... Romanified. The way he carried himself, the way he fought—it was sharper, more controlled, but colder. It reminded me of him—of Luke.

Luke used to look at me the way Percy does now. I used to believe I could always count on him too, that he'd never hurt me. But then, he became something unrecognizable, something monstrous. I realize now, deep down, my greatest fear has always been abandonment, and Luke only deepened that fear—gave it new layers. A fear of losing the ones I love, not to death or battle, but to themselves. And no matter how hard I try to think rationally, I can't shake it. It's maddening, especially for a child of Athena.

And Percy… he wasn't the same after that moment with Akhlys. I remember the way he had enjoyed it—hurting her. The way his lips twitched with satisfaction as she writhed under his power. That wasn't the Percy I knew. And yet, standing here now, seeing him so calm and at ease, it's hard to reconcile those two images in my mind. But the memory lingers, no matter how much I wish it would fade.

I hated seeing these memories, because it made me wonder if I really knew him at all, what if the person I'd trusted most, the one I'd thought could never change, was slipping away from me?

I turn away from him, my nails digging into my arms. I can feel the doubt, the fear curling in my stomach. Percy's always been my rock, my constant, and yet in those moments, I had lost sight of him. And now, I'm terrified I've lost him for good.

Luke had once been my everything too. Until he wasn't. Until he turned his back on me and became something I couldn't understand, something I couldn't stop. Percy's eyes had that same fire in Tartarus, the one Luke had after he fell.

The thought makes me swallow hard. It's not rational—I know that—but it's there. The fear that Percy could follow the same path, that I could lose him the same way I lost Luke. And maybe that's why I've been pulling back. Because if I push him away, if I keep my distance, I won't have to see what he's becoming.

But now… he's changed again. He's lighter now, and I should be relieved, but instead, I feel the cold bite of regret. I left him to deal with it alone, didn't I? And now, it's clear that he didn't need me to find his way back. He found something—someone—else. I catch a glimpse of him, and suddenly I know my apprehensions were not unfounded. Artemis.

Piper's words echo in the back of my mind, no matter how hard I try to push them away. Tartarus corrupts everything, Annabeth. Maybe you saw what you were afraid of.

I take a step toward him, but I freeze. The space between us feels like an ocean—too wide, too deep to cross. Why is this harder than fighting monsters? Why does this terrify me more than the life-or-death battles we've fought together?

Together….

Still, I force myself to speak. "Can we talk?" The words come out too soft, too uncertain, making me cringe. My voice barely rises above the sound of the waves lapping against the ship.

He turns to me, and for a moment, I think I see something flicker in his eyes. Anger? Sadness? I can't tell. "Sure," he says, but his tone is distant, weary.

We find a quiet corner of the ship, but the silence between us is suffocating. The wind whips around us, and I struggle to find the right words. How do I explain the fear that's been gnawing at me? How do I tell him I'm scared of what I saw in him?

"How are you?" I ask, my voice stiff. It feels like a useless question, but I don't know where else to start.

"I wasn't doing great," he admits, staring at the sea. "But I'm better now."

The words sting. Better. Without me. I fight to keep my face neutral, but I know the hurt shows, but I have to hide it, I know how unfair it is for me to feel this way.

"What changed?" I ask, a little too sharply. I already know the answer. Or maybe it's not what changed—it's who. I can feel the heat rising in my chest, and I grip my arms tightly, trying to keep calm, trying not to let the jealousy flare up. I can't lose control, not now.

He hesitates, and I already know the answer before he says it. "Artemis helped me."

I nod, but the jealousy flares, hot and bitter in my chest. "What did you talk about?"

He looks at me carefully, and I know he's gauging my reaction. His hesitation only tightens the knot in my stomach. "Did something happen between you two?" The words spill out before I can stop them. I don't mean for it to sound like an accusation, but it does.

"Like what?" He asks confused,

"Like did she 'comfort' you?" I ask, emphasis on comfort, making it clear what kind of comfort I was implying.

His face hardens, his jaw clenched. "What did I do to deserve this? Why do you suddenly hate me?" His voice is low, thick with hurt, and the question catches me off guard. "Do you even realize what you're implying? What kind of danger that puts us both in? If Artemis overheard that and didn't kill us herself, her father or brother definitely would."

Hate him? I latch onto those words, barely registering the rest of what he said. No, I don't hate him—how could he think that? But if he believes it, I must've made him feel that way. My mind races through the memories—every cold glance, every dismissive word. I made him feel like I was pushing him away. And now, standing here, I realize… maybe I was.

"I don't hate you," I whisper, but the words feel hollow in as they leave my mouth, as if I didn't even believe my own words.

"Something's happening to me," he says, his voice shaking. "Something dangerous. And I swore I wouldn't tell anyone—not even you—because it could put my life in danger."

His words hit me hard. I should be the one he turns to. But I pushed him so far away that he couldn't.

"You think I didn't want to tell you?" he continues, his voice rising with frustration. "But you shut me out, Annabeth. You abandoned me when I needed you the most. When we both needed eachother. I know you needed space, but why did you have to be so cruel?" He asks, his voice cracking slightly at the end.

I open my mouth, but the words don't come. He's right. I did abandon him. Not out of malice, but out of fear. Fear of what he was becoming. Fear that I would lose him, just like I lost Luke.

"I was afraid… I didn't want to lose you, not like Luke." The moment the words leave my mouth, I know I've screwed up. What's wrong with me? Even if it's true, Luke is still a sore topic. Percy was there for me when I was dealing with Luke—he's the one who convinced me I deserved better, that Luke had changed and become something evil. And every time, I lashed out at him. I almost lost Percy to Rachel, the only boy I've ever loved, and even now, even after Luke's death, his ghost still haunts me. A wound that refuses to heal.

"Luke..." Percy scowls, his frustration finally boiling over. "It's always him, isn't it? For me, it's always been you, Annabeth. Always. Never anyone else. But you… you keep dragging him into everything." His voice isn't angry, but it's filled with something deeper—hurt, betrayal. "What have I ever done to make you not trust me? What have I done to deserve this?"

I flinch at his words, the rawness in them cutting deep. I want to protest, to tell him he's wrong, but the truth sticks in my throat. He's right. I've kept Luke's ghost between us, a phantom that refuses to exorcised.

"It's not about trust," I say, my voice trembling. "I don't want to lose you, I don't want you to change. Tartarus… it changed you. You became someone I didn't recognize." The words spill out before I can stop them, years of fear and doubt pouring through the cracks. "You were ruthless, and it scared me. The way you looked when you hurt Akhlys, the way you… enjoyed it. That wasn't you."

His eyes narrow, and the usual resignation he'd shown over this topic, the few times it had come up before, is now replaced with indignation. "I had to be like that," he says, his voice eerily calm, and it's unsettling. "We were in Tartarus, Annabeth. I did what I had to do to keep us alive. I did it for you."

"I know that," I whisper, but my voice feels weak, small. "But it was more than just surviving. You didn't just fight to stay alive. You fought like… like you wanted to hurt her. Like you enjoyed seeing her in pain."

Percy runs a hand through his hair, his frustration palpable now. "Because I did," he says softly, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. "She hurt you, Annabeth. She enjoyed it. She was going to torture you, make me watch while she slowly squeezed the life out of you. So yeah, I got satisfaction from turning the tables, from giving her a taste of the pain she so lovingly dished out to others."

I bite my lip, fighting back the tears threatening to spill over. I can see it in his eyes—he knows I'm right, but he doesn't care. "So you see it, don't you? You are different. You're darker. And you just… don't care?" My voice shakes, and I hate how scared I sound. "I'm terrified, Percy. One day, you're going to cross a line you can't come back from. Just like… him."

"Luke again," he mutters, shaking his head in disbelief. "I'm not Luke. I will never be Luke."

"I know that!" I snap, my voice breaking. "But can't you see? I've lost people before. I've watched them change, and I'm terrified that I'm losing you, too. That I already have."

He stands there, staring at me, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. For a moment, neither of us speaks. As the weight of everything unsaid hangs between us.

"I didn't change, Annabeth. I was just pushed to far, it could've broken me, or I could decide to beat it. I decided to win Annabeth, for you, for us." Percy says, his voice tight with emotion. "I did what I had to do. Tartarus perverts everything about you, everything you hate, your insecurities, your….love. You know that. But I didn't stop being me."

"You did," I whisper, the tears finally spilling over. "For a while, you did. And I didn't know how to handle it. I didn't know how to trust you after that."

His expression falters, the hurt showing again, deep and raw. "I thought you, of all people, would understand," he says quietly. "I thought you trusted me."

"I wanted to," I say, my voice barely audible. "I wanted to believe you were still the same. But I didn't know how."

He exhales slowly, the tension between us thick and suffocating. "I don't know if we can fix this, Annabeth," he says after a long pause. "I don't know if I can trust you anymore."

His words hit me like a punch to the chest, knocking the breath out of me. What am I doing? Why am I letting this happen? I can't lose him—not again. We've been through too much. I lost him once, and the pain nearly destroyed me. But this time… it wasn't a goddess or a curse that tore us apart. It was me. I pushed him away, maybe right into someone else's arms. Her arms. A goddess. If that happens, I'll never get him back. How could I ever compete with Artemis—timeless, powerful, beautiful like the moon she commands?

Before I can speak, before I can even think of how to make this right, Percy turns and walks away. I'm frozen, a cold dread seeping into my bones, spreading through me like ice.

The wind cuts across the deck, sharp and unforgiving, and it feels like something inside me is slipping away—something I'm terrified I'll never get back. A part of me whispers that maybe… I've lost him.

Jason's POV:

The wind whipped across the deck of the Argo II, stirring our clothes as Percy and I circled each other, swords gleaming in the sunlight. The rhythmic clang of steel rang out, cutting through the stillness like a steady drumbeat. The rest of the crew had gathered around, their attention drawn to us. With nothing else to do, they were all watching, except for Frank, who split his attention between scanning the horizon and glancing over at us from time to time.

I blocked another one of Percy's strikes, the force behind it sending a jolt up my arm. He was quick—too quick. His sword moved like a blur, slashing and thrusting with a wild intensity. For someone unprepared, Percy would be impossible to handle. He fought like a storm, each strike unpredictable, chaotic, yet somehow deliberate. I gritted my teeth, focusing as I parried his next attack.

Between strikes, I studied him. His movements were fast, but not flawless. There were gaps in his defenses—moments where he left himself exposed. It was easy to miss unless you knew what to look for. One spot, though, was never left unguarded. The small of his back, opposite his navel, was always protected. It was a habit, and I realized quickly why. That had been his Achilles spot when he carried the Curse. It wasn't there anymore, but Percy still fought like it was. Like he was invincible.

That was the part that worried me. He fought recklessly, as if nothing could touch him. As if on some level, he still believed he held the Curse of Achilles.

"You still haven't broken that habit, have you?" I said, swinging my sword and catching his blade mid-strike. "You're fighting like you've still got the Curse of Achilles."

Percy grinned, sea-green eyes flashing with mischief as he raised his sword again. "Not so sure I've lost it," he teased, his voice light. "I've always had weird luck."

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Reckless, man. One of these days, someone's going to find that opening."

As we traded blows, I could feel the crew's eyes on us. Hazel and Frank exchanged quiet glances, while Leo leaned against the mast, doing his best to look casual, but his wide eyes gave him away. Annabeth sat near the bow, her gaze fixed on Percy, watching his every move with a look of fascination, like she couldn't take her eyes off him. Even Piper was locked in, her usual ease replaced with sharp focus.

I shifted my stance, adjusting my grip on my sword. "Watch this," I muttered under my breath.

Feigning a high strike, I dropped low at the last second, pivoting just as Percy readied himself to block. His grin widened—he thought he'd seen through me. But as I twisted, my sword slipped past his defenses, grazing his arm and cutting through his sleeve.

The deck fell into stunned silence. Every breath was held as the crew waited for his reaction. They all knew Percy was usually a calm easy going one, but still, being cut during a sparring match wasn't something people took lightly.

I knew better. Percy stared at the cut on his arm for a beat, the blood already readily flowing, then he threw back his head and let out a booming laugh.

A quiet satisfaction stirred in me as I watched the crew's surprised faces. They hadn't expected that. But I did. I'd spent enough time with Percy lately to know how he'd react. Ever since our talk with Nico and our mission with Kymopoleia, the goddess of violent storms, I'd learned more about him. The more I understood, the more I liked him. He wasn't just the guy who could take down monsters. He was the guy who could take a hit and laugh it off, the friend you could count on when things got tough.

"Touché," Percy said, grinning as he looked up at me, his eyes glinting with humor.

The tension shattered, and I found myself laughing with him. The crew exchanged glances, and soon enough, everyone began to relax.

"Guess I'm not invincible after all," Percy added, shooting me a wink.

"Never thought I'd see the day, you admit I was right" I said with a smirk, shaking my head.

Percy stepped back for a moment, lowering his sword as he unscrewed the cap of his canteen. He took a long drink, and I watched as the cut on his arm sealed up, the skin knitting together until it looked like it had never been touched. He rolled his shoulder with a satisfied grin. "Round two?" he asked, his voice light, but there was a gleam of challenge in his eyes.

I didn't have time to answer before Percy was already moving, faster than before. His strikes came in quick succession, each one sharper, more controlled. I blocked, but I could feel it—he was adjusting. No longer leaving the gaps I had pointed out, he kept his guard tight. And yet, his speed and ferocity were still there. It was like he hadn't lost a step—if anything, he was pushing harder.

I parried a strike aimed at my chest, barely holding him off. Percy darted around me, his feet light, movements fluid. One second he was coming in high, then in a blink, he shifted low, his blade slicing toward my legs. I blocked just in time, but the force sent me stumbling back.

"You're stiff," Percy said, weaving past me with a grin. "You fight too Roman."

I gritted my teeth, frustration building. "What's wrong with fighting Roman?" I countered, slashing out in a quick arc, but he sidestepped easily.

"Nothing," he said, twirling his sword in one hand before feinting left and striking right. "When you've got backup. But in a duel? You need more freedom, less rigidity." He pressed forward, pushing me back with a series of relentless strikes. "Romans are great in units, but alone? You need to adapt."

I saw an opening and swung, aiming to break his rhythm, but Percy dropped into a low crouch, dodging my strike with ease. Before I could react, he kicked out, catching me in the side. The impact sent me stumbling again, but I quickly regained my balance, readying my sword for the next round.

"Come on, Jason," Percy teased, darting forward and slashing at my midsection. "You're predictable."

"Predict this," I muttered, lunging forward with a thrust aimed at his chest.

Percy sidestepped and shoved me, hard. The momentum nearly knocked me off my feet, but I managed to keep my balance, planting my feet and swinging upward. He parried, grinning the whole time.

"Loosen up Jason, more movement and mobility, come at me."

"With this gladius?" I shot back, deflecting a blow aimed at my head. "You've got the reach. Everytime I come at you with my sword and board you dance away!" I said panting.

His eyes gleamed. "Exactly."

Before I knew it, Percy had shifted again. His sword swept low, then up, and in a flash, my gladius went flying from my hand, clattering onto the deck.

"Damn it!" I swore under my breath, frustration creeping into my voice.

Percy stepped back, lowering his sword and eyeing me up and down, his expression thoughtful. "You've got a bigger build, Jason," he said. "Use it. You're stronger than me. You're probably stronger than just about any other demigod, apart from Frank of course," Percy nodded at Frank who chuckled at the compliment. "And maybe a few other Ares kids, Hades only knows what they must be eating in cabin 5, they hit hard."

I nodded at that, I duel Clarisse enough times to know the truth in his words.

Percy turned to Leo, his expression thoughtful as he tapped his sword against the deck. "Hey, Leo," he began, his voice more serious than usual. "I was wondering if you could craft something for Jason. You know, something that fits him perfectly."

Leo tilted his head, intrigued. "What are we talking? A sword? A shield?"

Percy shook his head. "Actually, I was thinking an axe. Something with a 3-foot handle, made from imperial gold and celestial bronze." He paused, making sure Leo was paying attention. "Double-sided. One side an axe head, the other a hammer with a spike. Something that can deliver cutting power and blunt force."

Leo's eyes widened a little, already imagining the design. "Okay, I'm liking this. Heavy, I assume?"

Percy nodded. "Yeah, but not too heavy. Jason's got the strength for it, but he needs to keep his speed. So just enough weight to give him the power behind his strikes, without slowing him down."

Leo scratched his chin, already deep in thought. "Balanced, powerful, versatile. I can definitely do that."

Percy smiled, his tone sincere. "Thanks, Leo. I know it'll be amazing. No one else could pull off something like this."

Leo grinned, clearly pleased by the compliment. "You got it, man. I'll have something for him soon."

Percy turned back to me, resting his sword over his shoulder. "We'll finish this later. But seriously, mix it up. Fight like a Roman and a Greek. Fight like you. Play to your strengths. You've got the power—use it. And use your abilities. Throw me off balance with wind, or use to to throw dirt in my face, zap me with lightning to make me drop my weapon. As a son of Jupiter, you have alot of utility with your powers, and that's not even considering the limitless potential of flying during combat."

I raised an eyebrow, still catching my breath. "And you need to be more conservative," I countered. "Otherwise, you'll leave yourself open and get skewered before the fight even really starts."

We stood there for a moment, still breathing hard from the sparring, but smiling. The competition between us was fierce, but underneath it was mutual respect, the desire to see the other improve.

"Agreed," we said at the same time, our voices in unison as we shook hands.

Percy's POV: Answers ~

That night, I made my way to my cabin, my footsteps soft against the wooden deck. The cool night air wrapped around me as I glanced up at the moon, hanging low and bright in the sky. The memory of Artemis' hug lingered in my mind, warm and comforting, as if it still surrounded me. Maybe—just maybe—the peace I found with her would follow me into sleep tonight. I sighed and looked up at the stars, the constellations twinkling like old friends keeping watch.

"Bob and Damasen say hi," I whispered to the stars, my voice soft, carrying the words to the heavens. I paused, gazing at a familiar constellation. "Bob says hello, Zoe. He misses you."

As if in response, the stars in Zoe's constellation shimmered, and the moon seemed to glow just a little brighter. A small smile tugged at my lips. I wasn't sure if it was my imagination or something more, but the moment filled me with a quiet sense of calm.

Entering my cabin, I let out a deep breath, knowing the nightmares would likely come. They always did. But tonight, with the memory of Artemis' hug lingering in my mind, maybe they wouldn't be as bad.

I lay down, closing my eyes as sleep began to pull me under. The familiar darkness of my nightmares crept in, but something was different this time. Instead of the usual onslaught, my mind skipped straight to the end—the moment where everything usually shattered. But tonight, my mind, though strained, held together. I didn't break. I didn't need to put myself back together.

For once, I stayed whole.

As I moved through the dream, I found myself at the edge, at the shores of chaos. That familiar feeling washed over me, a connection, deep and intimate. That's when I saw her—standing there, waiting. But she wasn't like before. Gone were the shadows that used to cling to her like mist. Now, she was more tangible, solid. She wore a black silk dress, the fabric shimmering as it hugged her form, tight and revealing in a way that made my face heat up instantly. Her skin was pale, like freshly fallen snow, smooth and flawless. Her eyes were a brilliant, deep obsidian, so dark they seemed to pull me in. Her lips, painted blood red, curved into a small smile, and I couldn't help but notice her canines—sharp as daggers, almost glinting under the dream's ethereal light.

Her hair was long, blacker than night itself, flowing down to her chest in waves. She moved with such grace that the air seemed to part for her. I blushed, feeling my heart skip a beat. She was... breathtaking. Perhaps the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen.

She glided toward me, silent as a shadow, each step so smooth it felt like she was barely touching the ground. My pulse quickened as her eyes locked onto mine—dark, inviting, and filled with things I'd buried deep. Every secret desire, every thought I'd forced away, flickered back to life in her gaze. And yet, with her standing so close, I couldn't remember why I'd ever tried to hide them. My breath caught in my throat, my chest tightening as I stared at her, wondering what could be... if I dared to take it.

Her hand pressed softly against my chest, but the heat from her touch surged through me, setting my heart racing. Her fingers traced slow, deliberate patterns, her eyes flickering with a feigned innocence—a timidness I knew was a mask. She was daring me to ignore the power she had over me, pushing me to take control of her. It was a game, one she was inviting me to play, indulging in a desire she had never allowed herself to entertain, one she never thought possible. Every move was intentional, a calculated dance she performed with practiced ease. Her touch lingered, her gaze both beckoning and daring, blurring the lines between control and surrender.

My breath caught as she leaned in closer, her warm breath grazing my neck, sending a shiver down my spine that left me utterly unguarded.

A tingle shot through me as she whispered, her lips just brushing my skin.

For a moment, I was lost—caught up in the warmth of her breath, the intensity of her touch. But then, as if waking from a dream, I shook my head, snapping myself out of the trance. A rueful grin spread across my face as I took a small step back, trying to regain some semblance of control.

"I've got questions," I said, my voice steadier than I expected, though my heart still pounded in my chest.

She smiled, disappointment flickering in her eyes, as she told me.

Nyx waved her hand, and the shadows around us shifted, swirling into the shape of a couch. It appeared as if the darkness itself had solidified into something tangible, soft yet unreal. She sat down gracefully, gesturing for me to join her. Reluctantly, I did, still trying to wrap my head around what was happening.

"We have much to discuss, Perseus," Nyx said, her voice silky. "What that Huntress told you is true."

I blinked, but before she could continue, I found myself blurting out, "How did you know about that?"

Her dark eyes glimmered with amusement, and she actually seemed to garner some satisfaction from my interruption. "Us primordials see everything, my dear."

"Oh…" I muttered, feeling a bit sheepish.

"The Huntress was partially right," Nyx continued, leaning back casually. "We primordials don't usually enjoy taking forms like this." She gestured at her body, her fingers sliding down her silk dress. "Though... bodies like these do have their... pleasurable uses." Her eyes locked onto mine, unblinking as she bit her blood-red lip. I felt my face flush as I quickly glanced away.

She let out a soft, knowing laugh before continuing, "There are gods outside the big three and Pan who were chosen. That is where she was wrong. You are the champion of one of them."

"What?!" My head snapped back toward her, disbelief clear in my voice. "Hestia?"

Nyx nodded slowly. "Yes. She very quietly inherited the kingdom of hope, and she has nurtured it as best she could over these lastfew thousand years. Elpis has been able to exist as we all wish to exist, as hope itself. As her chosen ruler, guides and fosters it for her." She paused, watching my reaction before explaining further. "When we sleep, it isn't sleep as you understand it. We are simply existing as we are meant to—as the aspect we represent. When Ouranos was slain..." her voice darkened, her eyes narrowing in distaste, "He was gifted a glimpse of the future by Ananke."

Nyx's scowl deepened as she mentioned the primordial goddess of necessity. "Ananke and Gaia hate each other above all. Gaia tricked and murdered Chronos—the primordial of time and the father of the Fates. Gaia did this to give her favorite son the power of a primordial."

I couldn't help but lean forward, trying to absorb everything she was telling me. "So... when Ouranos died..."

"He did not die," Nyx corrected sharply. "Primordials do not die. Can the sky die? Can terror?" She paused, her voice filled with clear distaste. "When a primordial is slain, their power and essence remain—energy without consciousness. It is power without agency. And before you ask, Akhlys is different, the only way to kill one of us, is for our mother to do so, she above all others is destruction incarnate. Chaos can kill anything, just as it is the only thing capable of creating something from nothing. She is the only thing to break this rule. You mortals call it the law of conservation, and she is the only one above such petty things," Nyx said with a reverence that bordered on the fanatical.

Her eyes darkened as she continued, "Before Ouranos became this soulless well of power, Ananke granted him a vision. Ouranos loathed his children with Gaia, but he saw a worthy heir in Zeus. Someone like him, without the monstrous characteristics that Gaia's creations were known for. He craved the perfection of our mother's work. And in the children of his children, he found both revenge and a true heir. A true son of the sky. So he issued his prophesy, knowing Kronos's attempt at avoiding his fate would seal it."

I frowned, trying to piece it together. "So that's why Kronos..."

Nyx nodded, her lips curling slightly. "Yes, that's why Kronos became consumed with paranoia, and it created a divide between him and Gaia. Gaia has suffered the consequences of her betrayal for millennia. Ananke may not have power over us primordials, but over our children? She is a spiteful force. Fate itself has conspired to see the titans suffer. And Gaia has been forced to help destroy her favorite children. Zeus was created to remind her of all that she loved in Ouranos, so she would help Rhea hide him, then when he won, fate guided him toward truly harsh and terrible punishments for the titans. Forcing Gaia to turn on the Olympians and creating the Giants. Fate created Pan to convince Gaia to abandon her children again, only for Mother's favorite creation to desecrate his kingdom and leave him in a state of perpetual undeath. Forcing Gaia to wake once more and attempt to avenge herself, only for the final insult, the final punishment to be levied by Mother and her loyal children… you."

"Me?" I asked, bewildered, before a frown grew on my face. "But Pan didn't deserve that!" I said, horrified.

Nyx shook her head. "It wasn't supposed to happen that way. Man was to live in unity with Gaia and Pan, but like I said, Ananke is spiteful. She went rogue. I do not know what she and Mother plan, just like I know Ananke does not know what I and Mother plan. But a reckoning is coming for those who cause discord in my Mother's universe, and you, Perseus, will be its herald." Nyx said, placing a hand on my arm and softly stroking it. Then she leaned in close, her chest brushing up against me, and I caught the scent of gooseberries and cinnamon. She whispered into my ear, "Wake now, my little hero. Once you punish my foolish sister, seek out the library in the land beyond the gods. I will guide you when the time comes."

I felt the darkness envelop me, then a warm kiss on my cheek, and suddenly, I was back in my cabin on the Argo 2.

If those are what my dreams are going to be, then I might actually enjoy sleep for the first time since becoming a demigod, I thought before rolling out of bed and preparing myself for the next day.

Jason POV:

It had been a few days since our last stop, and I was busy with my usual chores aboard the Argo II—flying up to those hard-to-reach spots and making sure everything was in order, just as Leo had instructed. When it came to the ship, Leo didn't mess around. The Argo II wasn't just a vessel to him; it was his masterpiece, his pride and joy. He referred to it as his "babies," and you couldn't handle it with anything less than precision. Every rivet, every bolt had to be perfect.

As I adjusted one of the sails, my eyes caught movement below. Percy, Hazel, and Leo were all gathered on the deck, looking up at me with grins plastered on their faces. They waved me down, and curiosity piqued, I floated down to meet them, landing lightly beside them.

"What's up?" I asked, wiping the dust and grease off my hands.

Leo's grin only widened as he crossed his arms. "Your axe is done."

My axe. The one Percy had specifically requested for me. I'd been looking forward to this moment, but now that it was here, an unexpected wave of hesitation hit me. Switching weapons wasn't a decision I took lightly.

"Look," Percy said, his voice calm as he read my hesitation, the way he always did. "You can stick with your other weapons if you want, but having an extra one won't hurt. Right, Superman?" he added with a smirk, wiggling his eyebrows.

I rolled my eyes, letting out an exaggerated sigh. "Really, Percy?" I muttered. Ever since he heard the nickname, he'd latched onto it, and now he refused to stop using it. No matter how many times I tried to shake it, 'Superman' was apparently here to stay.

Leo rolled his eyes, crossing his arms with an exaggerated huff. "You better use it," he added, mock stern. "I didn't spend the last 48 hours slaving away for this creation to just sit around and collect dust."

I couldn't help but laugh a little, their playful banter never failed to warm the soul, Percy and Leo were a dangerous duo, the sass was unmatched, and the burns both literal, and figurative, were deadly. "Alright, alright. Let's see it, then."

With a proud grin, Leo handed me what looked like a simple wristwatch—sleek and unassuming. "Click the button on the side," he instructed, a glint of excitement in his eyes.

I pressed the button, and the watch shifted in my hand with a quiet hum of magic and machinery. First, the handle extended—three feet of polished mahogany wood, dark and smooth under my fingers. It was sturdy but light enough that I knew I'd keep my speed. Then came the head of the axe, emerging with a metallic gleam as it caught the sunlight.

The double-sided weapon was more impressive than I'd imagined. One side featured a gleaming axe head, forged from celestial bronze, its edge sharp and wicked, perfect for cutting through enemies with brutal precision. The other side was a hammer, but not just any hammer—crafted from imperial gold, with a spike on one end designed for blunt force and maximum carnage. The balance between power and speed made my breath catch.

It was a work of art, deadly and precise, but still practical. Everything about it felt right, like it had been made just for me, and I guess it was.

The engravings were what caught my eye next. Lightning bolts had been intricately carved into the mahogany handle, crackling with energy even in their stillness. They seemed almost alive, as if a storm had been captured in the wood itself. On the metal, two eagle wings were etched—one on the axe side, the other on the hammer—symbols of the sky, of power and freedom. The craftsmanship was unreal.

Hazel, standing beside me, smiled nervously. "It needs a name," she said, her voice soft but encouraging. Her eyes, however, gleamed with an almost mad excitement, like a scientist eager to show off her latest experiment. "Go on—name it," she urged, practically bouncing on her heels.

I stared at the weapon in my hands, feeling the weight of it, how perfectly balanced it was, how powerful it felt. The name slipped out of me before I could even think about it.

"Tempest," I said.

The moment the name left my lips, a surge of energy shot through me, starting from my fingertips where I gripped the handle. It was as if the weapon had siphoned a part of my strength, a drain I hadn't expected. My breath caught as I felt the current of power leave me, but just as quickly, it came rushing back—more intense, more focused. It wasn't just returning the energy; it was amplifying it, flowing through me like an electrical current. The axe hummed in my hands, alive with power, and I knew, deep down, it was now connected to me in a way no weapon ever had been before.

Leo raised an eyebrow, impressed. "Not bad."

In the center of the two sides, where the axe and hammer met, the name 'Tempest' was inscribed in Celestial Silver, the same material the Hunters of Artemis used. It shimmered faintly, like starlight had been captured within the letters. I was thunderstruck by the beauty and power of it.

"How did you…" I started, still dumbfounded by the surge of power I'd just felt.

Leo grinned wide, his eyes shining with pride. "I'm awesome."

Hazel, who had been standing quietly beside him, rolled her eyes. "I worked some magic too," she said, a little shyly. She still seemed unsure of her place among us, which was understandable, given she was the youngest of the crew. "I helped enchant it."

Percy smiled, patting her shoulder. "I had some spare silver, so I asked Hazel to help with the enchantments. Couldn't have done it without her."

Leo nudged her playfully. "Yeah, and now she's required to help me with all future weapons I commission. For a cut, of course," he added with a wink. "I can make things with her I never even dreamed of. It's amazing! Her control over metals and magic is spectacular." He beamed as he looked at Hazel, clearly proud of their collaboration.

Hazel smiled a little more confidently. "I worked some magic with the Mist. Hecate showed me in one of my dreams." She hesitated, then continued, "The moment you named it, the magic activated. That's why you felt the drain—it's bonded to you now."

I looked at her, processing her words. "You mean it's linked to me?"

Hazel nodded, her eyes steady as she looked at me. "The magic ties the weapon to you," she explained, her voice quiet but certain. "It won't just follow your commands—it'll feel like an extension of you, responding to your strength, your will." She hesitated for a second, then continued, her confidence growing. "This bond... it's like the demigod version of a symbol of power."

She glanced at the axe in my hands, the weight of her words sinking in. "Normally, divine energy would leak away, wasted. But Tempest? It absorbs it, storing every bit of power you use near it. Every time you push yourself, it gathers more. It could hold an infinite amount of energy, waiting for you to call on it whenever you need."

As she spoke, I felt the truth of her words deep in my bones, like the axe was already humming in sync with me, its power quietly building.

My eyebrows shot up at that.

She looked down at the axe and then back at me. "It's also soul-bonded to you, Jason. It won't work to its full potential for anyone else unless you give express permission, kind of like the Master Bolt. Even if someone takes it or steals it, it won't respond to them the way it does to you. It answers to you and you alone."

I stared at Tempest, my fingers tracing the smooth mahogany handle. A faint vibration thrummed beneath the surface, almost like the weapon was alive, responding to my touch. The hum of power wasn't just beneath the wood—it pulsed through me, surging up my arm like a current, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. This wasn't just a weapon in my hands. It was more than metal and magic. It was part of me, crafted as if it had always been waiting for me, like it had been born for this moment—like we were bound together.

"Thanks," I said, still a bit in awe. "This is… incredible."

Percy gave me a knowing smile. "You're going to love it."

I wasn't so sure at first, but as I held Tempest, feeling the weight and balance, I knew Percy was right. This was more than just an extra weapon. This was something special. To special…. How did they make it?

"How did you figure out how to make this?" I asked, watching the way the gleaming axe sparkled with power in my hands. "Surely if it was common knowledge, every demigod would have one."

Leo and Hazel exchanged a quick look before glancing at Percy, who rubbed the back of his neck, his usual confident grin turning a bit sheepish.

"I had a dream," Percy said, his voice low. "She told me about it. She said it's a lost art form, something only the elder cyclopi know. It's the same way the Big Three's symbols of power were created. Even Leo's dad doesn't know how." He gestured at Leo, who nodded in agreement. "But now, Leo and Hazel know how to do it—well, half of it each. Leo's got the metalworking down, and Hazel handles the spell weaving. I know a little bit of both—enough to understand the theory—but I couldn't actually make something like this on my own."

I narrowed my eyes, curiosity sparking as I absorbed his words. "Who the Hades told you how to do this?"

Percy's playful demeanor faded as the weight of the question seemed to settle over him. His lips pressed together, and for a moment, he hesitated. Hazel shifted beside him, uncomfortable.

"He won't tell us," she said quietly, her gaze sliding to Percy.

Leo let out a long sigh, crossing his arms. "Yeah, it's been driving us nuts."

I could feel the tension building in the space between us, something important was hanging in the air. I stepped closer, meeting Percy's eyes. "Percy, you can trust us."

He looked at each of us, searching our faces as if weighing the risk of what he was about to say. Then, he straightened up, his face hardening with resolve. "Swear on the Styx you won't tell anyone else," he said, his voice quiet but firm.

A chill ran down my spine at his tone. This wasn't a request. This was serious. We all exchanged glances, and then, one by one, nodded. "We swear," we said in unison.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, a soft warning from the goddess of hatred.

Percy's shoulders relaxed just a little, though the tension remained in his eyes. "I can't tell you everything that's been happening," he began, his voice dropping even lower. "But I can tell you this. Hazel, can you…?"

Hazel didn't need him to finish. She waved her hand, and the Mist swirled around us, softening the edges of reality. The world outside our little circle blurred, the sounds of the ship fading to a distant hum.

"I swore to Artemis not to share certain details for my own safety," Percy said, glancing around to make sure no one could overhear. "But I've been meeting with… Nyx."

Leo, Hazel, and I all froze.

"N Y X?" I repeated, spelling it out, so not to draw unwanted attention. My voice barely above a whisper.

"She's the one who told me about the weapons," Percy continued, rubbing the back of his neck again. "She's, uh… interested in me."

Leo, being Leo, let out a sharp wolf whistle, a grin spreading across his face.

Hazel, cheeks flushed, slapped his arm. "Not like that, you idiot!"

But Percy shook his head slowly. "No. It's exactly like that."

"Oh…" Leo and I muttered in unison, and Hazel's face turned crimson.

Percy quickly waved a hand, dismissing the thought. "Nothing happened. Me and Annabeth might not be in the best place right now, but I wouldn't betray her. Even if…" He trailed off, eyes clouding with something I couldn't quite place. "Anyway, my love life isn't important. What matters is that Nyx is teaching me things, things even our parents don't know. This is just the beginning. But you can't tell anyone. Got it?"

I swallowed, feeling the weight of the secret pressing down on us. We nodded solemnly.

"Did you do the same with Riptide?" I asked, needing something to cut through the tension.

Percy's face softened, just a little. "Yeah, it's bound to me now, like the Big Three's weapons... and now Tempest." He smiled slightly, the pride evident in his voice. "I'm planning on doing the same for all of our friends—Nico, Reyna, Frank—everyone. When the time's right, we'll make improvements, strengthen their weapons too. I've already started drawing up plans."

I couldn't help but feel a little strange, holding something that could be mentioned in the same breath as the Big Three's symbols of power. Even if Tempest was just a lesser imitation.

Leo raised an eyebrow, his grin returning. "Dude, who are you, and what have you done with Percy Jackson?"

Percy chuckled, but there was a quiet intensity in his eyes. "Someone made me realize I've been holding myself back. I can't just swing a sword and hope everything works out. I need to think for myself, be more strategic. I can't keep relying on others to always figure things out for me. She said i'm smarter than I give myself credit for, I want to prover her faith right."

I raised an eyebrow, curiosity sparking. "Who? N-Y-X?" I spelled out the name carefully, the weight of it still holding a chilling power, even up here.

Percy shifted, clearly uncomfortable. "No… Artemis."

I let out a long sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Dude… you're screwed, you know that, right?"

Percy didn't even argue. He just nodded, a resigned look crossing his face as we all stood there, realizing the full gravity of the situation.