"Fuck the Fates!"
"Fuck Tartarus!"
"And definitely fuck you!"
Lodging his sword deep into a spider the size of a small car, the son of Poseidon groaned out in exhaustion as he laid atop the monster's corpse. Wiping the monster guts off his face, he stared upward at the "sky" with tired, half-lidded eyes. What was he still doing down here in this valley? There was absolutely nothing here except monsters, darkness, smelly air, and even more monsters. He'd been searching for days now without any luck. Nothing down here could help him and those two Gods escape. He couldn't keep searching for much longer either. His supplies were running low, only having enough to last him two more days if he was lucky. As we all know though, there was no such thing as luck in Percy Jackson's life.
"Just keep moving forward. You'll find it."
That saying was starting to get old now. Nevertheless, he listened to the voice in his head, got up, and walked deeper into the cold, dark valley. He was happy Riptide could glow in the dark. It was his only source of light keeping the darkness at bay. Without it, he'd probably descend into insanity by now. He remembered something Annabeth had told him one time about a guy who had gone insane in a prison cell with no light. Apparently, the human brain needed light, or else it'd start self-destructing so to speak.
Now he knew he wasn't insane just yet. Sure he heard voices in his head and yeah he saw long-since dead friends in the corner of his eyes but he was still functional. He could still think properly…Gods, the more he thought about it, the more he realized he was fucked up in the head. Tartarus had personally promised him that he would make his life a living hell down here and so far he had delivered on it.
What would Annabeth and Mom think of him if he ever got to see them again? Would they be happy? Sad? Scared? He knew he wasn't the same person they remembered. Tartarus had fucked him up big time, mentally and physically. Scars littered his body, the biggest one being on his face from when he had fallen into the valley earlier. He could see that his skin, despite the blood and dirt covering it, had turned a shade paler due to no sun down here. The biggest difference, however, that even startled him was his eyes. Every time he had the chance to see his reflection, his eyes were the first thing he noticed. They were colder, holding none of the familiar warmth he was so well known for. Like that of a Gods when they were angry. He didn't know how to feel about that. All he did know was that he needed to get out of Tartarus before it consumed him, forcing him into a new man born from the worst hell had to offer.
With that thought in mind, he picked up the pace, looking for the slightest hint or clue of escape. Eventually, after countless more hours, his search led him to an opening in a hollow dead tree. It was taller than the others around and the more he examined it, the more he could sense that something was off. He could feel his mind being pulled into the darkness. Something powerful was inside of there, begging him to take a step inside.
Countless whispers of a foreign language entered his mind, bouncing around like a pen ball. He couldn't understand what they were saying but he felt as if he had heard this language before. It almost sounded like the language the first Orcs he had encountered were speaking. That thought quickly evaded him however as he stepped inside the hallow tree. Immediately, he could feel the air shift around his shoulders. It had grown heavier and even colder than the air inside the valley. He shivered as he felt the sinister aura coil around his body like a snake, squeezing every ounce of energy out of him.
"This has to be the place." He said aloud, his teeth clattering against each other as he raised Riptide to see further. To his surprise, he noticed that the opening was actually going downward. He could see old stone stairs covered with withered vines and roots leading down into the darkness of the unknown. The whispers, now speaking in a mixture of Orc and English, grew louder as he stared into the blackness, begging him to walk further. He knew he probably shouldn't listen to them. This place reeked of old evil magic. Something, however, prevented him from turning around. Maybe it was his will to escape Tartarus or maybe it was this place's power taking hold of him, he didn't know.
Steeling his nerves and gripping Riptide tightly, he complied with the voices, pushing on deeper into the tree. The blackness was heavier. That was the only way he could describe it. Riptide seemed to be suppressed somehow the further he went. The shadows coiled around the blade like piranhas, eating away at any inkling of light. By the time he made it at the end of the stairs, he couldn't see anything. Judging by a soft gust of wind howling against his face though, he knew he was now in a long stretch of hallway. Placing his hand against the damp, cold stone wall, he walked along it.
Every step he took felt like he was walking in deep mud with the whispers growing louder by the second. The darkness was rapidly eating away at him, zapping all of his energy and sense of thought. All he could think was to keep moving forward. If he didn't, he knew he would die here. Gritting his teeth at the ever-increasing pain, he pushed further into the hallway. He could feel ghostly hands grasp at his hands, telling him to turn around. He didn't listen. He knew not to turn around. Something was there behind him, itching for him to look into its eyes.
"Percy, please! Turn around before it's too late!" His mother's voice called out to him. He couldn't help but almost listen. He knew it wasn't really her but to hear her voice speak to him, it was almost ethereal. "Please, son. Turn around and look at me!" She pleaded further but to no avail.
With tears brimming in his eyes from the pain the heavy darkness was inflicting on him, he pushed on, daring not to look back. That wasn't the end of it though. Countless voices from friends and family both dead and alive called out to him, all begging for one thing. For him to turn around.
Luke, Grover, Jason, Thalia, Piper, Beckendor, and Zoe, they all spoke to him, telling him exactly what his mother had said. They begged and begged but he didn't listen. He realized why they were doing it. Something was at the end of this tunnel they didn't want him to find. He could feel its power radiating throughout the hallway, mimicking a heartbeat. This had to have been it! Whatever was at the end of the hallway must've been what the compass was leading him to. The voices of his "friends" became angry and desperate as they realized that he had figured it out.
They were yelling now, filling his head with insurmountable pain. They threw everything they could at him. Telling him it was his fault that they had died, that he would never see his family, and he'd die down here alone without ever seeing the light of day again. Percy collapsed to the floor, unable to carry his own weight. The power of whatever this was was indescribable. It didn't want him to find it which was why it was doing everything it could to stop him. The ghostly hands tried to grip his clothing to prevent him from moving further but he swatted them away. He was getting to the end of the hallway no matter what! After everything he's been through, he wouldn't dare quit now.
Unable to walk, he crawled down the hallway. He was close. So close to finding out what exactly contained this type of power. His entire body was on fire now the closer he got. He didn't just how much more pain he could take. The voices were causing his ears to bleed, the darkness was maddening and whatever was behind him was practically breathing down his neck. He had never felt such fear before in his life. Not when he had traversed the underworld or fought Kronos and Gaea. The only thing this could be compared to was witnessing Tartarus's physical form.
Eventually, by the grace of the Gods, the darkness in front of his eyes parted like a curtain, revealing what was at the end of the hallway. Percy had never felt such relief yet disappointment in his life before. It wasn't an escape out of Tartarus or the Doors of Death or even a weapon. It was a black jagged piece of stone. It was a single piece that was as long as his forearm. The closer he got, he realized that there was some sort of red runes on it, emitting an eerily red glow against the hallway's walls. The power coming from it though was something he had never felt in all his years. Not even all of the Olympians combined could compare to this thing.
He was only a couple of feet away from it now. A few more crawls and he'd be able to reach out and grab it. The piece of stone didn't like that, proceeding to flood the demigod's mind with every sort of horror it could conjure. He screamed out in absolute pain, withering on the ground like a worm being pelted with salt. Images began to flash in his mind. Images and experiences that he never wanted to relive again. Countless deaths of people he called friends. The first time he had been in Tartarus. Annabeth calling out his name while blind from the Arai. His mother crying when she had learnt of his disappearance.
"Fuuuuck!" He cried out, clutching his head in vain attempts to stop the mental attack. It did not relent, however, only continuing in order to make him give up and turn around. This time the stone showed him something he didn't recognize. Mortal cities burnt to a crisp, the smoke from it so thick it blotted out the sun. Countless mortals and demigods dead in the streets. Raging battles of Orc against man with he himself leading the demigods. The stone showed all of this to him in a mere blink of an eye. He knew for sure that he had never experienced any of that before. Did that thing just show him the future of what was to come? Or was it playing tricks?
With a gasp, he opened his eyes. This needed to be put to an end right now. He couldn't take anymore. His head felt as if it were about to be split open. With sheer willpower, the son of Poseidon dragged himself up from the ground, glaring at the stone with fury in his eyes.
"Enough!" He growled. With his fingers mere inches away from it, the voices screamed at him as loud as they could, causing his ears to bleed. He paid no heed to them or the pain, inching ever so closer to the glowing red piece of rock. Just as he was about to take hold of the stone, everything suddenly stopped. The voices, the ghosts, the screams, everything came to a still. Only his erratic heavy breathing echoed throughout the hallway.
"Percy?" A woman's voice said behind him. His shaking hand was a mere inch away from it. He could feel its power reverberating through his bones. Yet, he didn't touch it. He knew that voice. It was a voice he had longed to hear for what felt like an eternity now.
"Annabeth…" He whispered, his voice cracking from desperation.
"Percy." She said once more, her voice sounding like honey to him. He wanted to turn around so badly. He needed to see her. He needed to see her eyes, her lips, her face. He wanted it all. Yet, he didn't. He knew she wasn't really here. It was just the stone playing tricks on him. Or so he thought. Feeling her hand rub against his shoulder, he jolted. Without turning his head, he could see her fingertips on him and her tanned skin. "Please, Seaweed Brain, turn around for me."
Percy whimpered, truly at a loss on what to do. He didn't want to pick up the stone yet he didn't want to turn around. He was stuck.
"Annabeth, I-I can't…"
"You can, baby. Look at me. I want to see your eyes. I haven't seen them in so long." She replied, her lips dangerously close to his ear. He shivered from her warmth. Gods, it felt so real! But he knew it wasn't. Annabeth wasn't here. Whatever this was behind him, it wasn't her. Steeling his nerves, he took a deep breath and focused once more on the black stone. He knew what needed to be done. It was the only way out of here.
"What do you think you're doing." Annabeth's voice suddenly became frantic, her grip on him tightening harshly. He could feel her fingertips seep into his skin, drawing blood. He growled out in pain but didn't stop reaching out to the stone.
"Stop! Stop! You're going to kill me, Percy! Is this what you want?! Are you really going to kill your love?!" She screamed, her voice turning shrill like a demon.
"I'll see you again one day, Wise Girl. You have my word." Percy whispered, his eyes brimmed with tears before grasping the stone with all his strength. It felt as if a nuclear bomb had just blown up right in front of his face when he did that. Unimaginable power flooded outward from the object into him, sending him to his knees. The pain was intense. Worse than holding the sky and bathing in the Styx combined. It felt as if his organs were going through a meat grinder while on fire at the same time. Blood spewed from his eyes and mouth, almost making him drop the stone. He knew not to though. This was the final test. If he failed now, his body would shut down on him and he'd be stuck down here for eternity.
Watching as a red aura seeped into his veins and ran upward throughout his entire body, the son of Poseidon screamed out as he felt the power course through him. It felt as if he had swallowed lava. With blood and tears rolling down his face, he wondered just how much longer this would take. He couldn't hold on much more.
For a couple more seconds that to him felt like hours, the pain thankfully began to subside, allowing him a moment of reprieve. Percy leaned against the hallway's wall, breathing deeply and seeing spots in his vision. His heart thumped against his chest loudly, feeling as if he were about to have a heart attack. Never before had he felt such pain and power.
"Holy fuck." He said, looking upward into nothing. How in the world did he survive such a thing? Looking down at the piece of stone in his hand, he couldn't believe such a small item could hold such immense power. What exactly was it? Some sort of artifact or weapon? Why in the world would the compass lead him to this? He thought Polemus had told him it led to a way out of Tartarus. Idly examining it some more, he knew that the God wasn't telling him the full story. This thing was something else. Something powerful.
After resting for a while longer, the son of Poseidon realized he needed to get out of there. There was no telling what else was done here and he would very much like to not experience this again. Picking up Riptide, he saw that it had regained its glow once again. That eased him slightly, glad that he could escape the darkness somewhat. Walking down the hall and up the stairs, he couldn't help but feel giddy. This was the first time since being down here that he felt he had made some progress. He didn't know exactly why Polemus needed this stone but maybe it could help get him out of here. He didn't trust the God but he had to admit he was probably the only person that could help.
Walking out of the hallowed tree, his giddiness quickly turned into anger when he saw what was in front of him. His eyes turned into that of a wolf's glare as he analyzed the situation presented to him. Orcs, at least thirty of them, were lined up in front of him. They were all armored to the teeth and looked eager to spill his blood. How had they known he was here? Had they been following him through this valley? Or was this a pure coincidence? Leading them in the front was an Orc Percy knew all too well. His rage bubbled as he looked upon the monster that mashed its teeth at him–Lortar, the only monster that he didn't get to kill in that last fight. The monster that supposedly was killed by Hybris when she saved him. Something wasn't right. This situation along with those two Gods that supposedly "saved" him caused alarms to go off in his head.
"Good to see you again lad. Now if you don't mind handing me that piece of rock you have, I won't hurt you too much. Can't say the same for my friends behind me though. They're pretty eager to get their meaty claws on you." Lortar's deep, scratchy voice echoed through the air, the monsters behind him laughing menacingly.
Percy gripped the stone tightly in his hand. So this was what they were after. How had they known about it? Was this one of their artifacts? Whatever it was, the son of Poseidon didn't care to give it to them. He had worked too damn hard just to hand it over. Lortar, seeing that demigod wouldn't just roll over like a dog, snarled in bloodlust. He ordered the Orcs under his command to charge right into the fray, telling them to rip Percy's arms off and beat him to death with them.
Time slowed as Percy watched them run at him. Anger and rage the likes he hadn't felt since protecting Annabeth on that bridge during the Titan War seeped out of him like a collapsed dam. He was not about to go out like last time. He wasn't going to lose to these fucking subhuman-looking garbage. Not again. This stone was his only hope of getting out of here. He didn't know how it would but he had faith that Polemus was at least telling him the truth in regards to the compass leading to an escape. If that was true, nothing was going to stand in his way of that.
He didn't know what overcame him. It was as if his body had gone into autopilot. He heard a clicking sound in his head, like a key turning a lock. Something had unlocked itself within him, allowing an indescribable amount of power to flow within him. He could feel every water molecule around him. In the air, the rivers, the ground, within himself and…with the Orcs. He had only felt this type of power once before. It was a power that if left uncontrolled, could take over him. It scared him yet for some reason, he found the fear within him exhilarating. It was a fear similar to a man unleashing every ounce of strength within himself, knowing he would die in battle. To stop holding back and kill until he himself was killed. The thought of that brought a deranged, sinister smile to his face. A smile similar to the time he had almost killed Akhlys with her own poison.
"There's no one to hold me back now."
"But you promised her!"
"It's kill or be killed down here. I refuse to die like this!"
Ignoring the voices in his head, he unconsciously snapped his fingers for some reason, finding that to be the most natural thing to do in the moment. Suddenly, the orcs in front of him all stopped running. It was as if time had frozen for them, unable to move, speak, or even blink. The son of Poseidon felt his heart quicken in anticipation and deranged joyful curiosity as he watched what happened next. Bones could be heard loudly snapping within their large, grey bodies. Legs, arms, and heads turned in ways that shouldn't have been possible for their bodily anatomy. Black blood gushed from every pore of their body, seeping across their skin until they fell to the ground in a blood-covered broken mess.
Percy practically stopped breathing when he realized what he had done. He couldn't help the maniacal laughter slowly coming out of him as he stood over their bodies. He had done it! He had discovered a new power. An ability so powerful that even the Gods would fear! His joy was quickly curbed however when he heard whimpering from his side. Slowing turning his head, he noticed that Lortar was still alive somehow. He wasn't in the best of shape though. Both his legs and arms had been broken due to Percy's newfound power, rendering them useless. All the monster could do was cry out in pain and fear as the demigod approached with wolf-like eyes peering into his soul.
"P-Please! I'm sorry, Perseus! Forgive me! I-I didn't mean for all this-" The Orc's pleading was cut short when the son of Poseidon reached his hand outward, grabbing it by the throat before lifting it upward as if it weighed nothing. Not caring to show any mercy to the monster that had caused him much pain, he decided to repay it in kind. Using his new ability once more, he watched as Lortar's eyes went to the back of his skull, blood rushing from both his mouth and eyes as he breathlessly grunted from his lungs being crushed. Percy couldn't exactly describe how he used this power. The best way he could explain it was by pulling the blood of his victim toward him. Something in the process must've made it where both bones and organs were damaged at the same time as the blood moved harshly throughout their bodies.
It was fascinating. Never had he thought he could have this much power over another living being. He knew he promised Annabeth never to do this. The thought of breaking his word to her brought sadness to his heart. He didn't like to break promises but this was required of him. If he was to survive and escape this place, he needed to do things that Annabeth might not like. He needed to control things that weren't meant to be controlled. It was the only way.
Breathing a sigh of relief as he felt the power within him warm his body like a blanket, he dropped the now-dead Orc in his hand to the ground unceremoniously. Looking at the death he had caused, he had no time to revel in the sight. He needed to get going. He needed to head back to Polemus. He still didn't trust the guy. What if he was doing exactly what he wanted? What if he wanted this stone all along? His instincts were telling him that was the case but what else could he do? He was stuck down here if he didn't go back.
Clinching his jaw, he shouldered his backpack as he made his way back up out of the valley. If that was truly the case and Polemus was indeed against his interest then he would have to fight him. With this new-found power, he could make him bend to his will, kill him if needed. Yes, that was what he would have to do. Kill him just like the rest that dared try to stop him from escaping this place.
"I'm close, Annabeth. Wait for me a little longer." His last thought was as he began the long journey back to Polemus's temple.