!ATTENTION!
Hey all, I'm currently in the process of looking for beta-readers. I want to establish a mini team (3-4) people who can beta read chapters before I publish them. If you are interested, shoot me a DM on Discord (jayvee100) and I'll get back to you. I only ask that you can be available to beta-read often and that you are willing to actually give out a helping hand. This is done to maintain quality and make sure that each chapter is the best it can be.
Thanks,
Jv.
Previously..
The balance of power has shifted.
Percy has stepped beyond the limits of a god, beyond the confines of any Olympian. He has become something else entirely—something that makes the Fates themselves hold their breath. In his eyes, I see eons of possibility, the weight of choices that could reshape existence itself.
And the cosmos will tremble for it.
In this moment, watching him stand there with creation itself bending around him, I understand with crystal clarity: the age of the Olympians is ending. Not with war, not with rebellion, but with transformation. Percy has become the harbinger of a new era.
The question that remains, burning in my immortal mind, is whether we will be part of this new world he heralds—or simply another chapter in the story of what once was.
Chapter 9: The Weight of Balance
The power thrums through me like a living thing, ancient and vast and impossibly familiar. It feels like coming home to a place I never knew existed. I can sense everything—the pulse of Tartarus itself, the frozen particles of air around us, even the quantum dance of reality's building blocks. It's overwhelming and natural all at once.
Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades stand before me, their expressions a mix of awe and apprehension. Even my father, usually so confident in his power, looks at me like I'm a stranger. Maybe I am.
"Percy?" My father's voice carries across the empty battlefield. "Son, what... what has happened to you?"
I take a breath, feeling the air molecules part around me. It's strange—I can literally see the space between them if I focus. "Remember when the Fates named me the God of Balance?" I begin, my voice carrying an undertone that makes the ground vibrate slightly. I try to modulate it, to appear more... normal. "There was more to that title than any of us understood."
Zeus steps forward, his master bolt crackling with nervous energy. "Explain," he commands, though there's less authority in his tone than usual. The king of the gods knows he's no longer the most powerful being present, and that knowledge clearly unsettles him.
"The ancient laws," I say, watching understanding dawn in Hades' dark eyes. "They weren't just restricting me—they were containing me. Protecting the world from the full extent of my power." I lift my hand, watching as reality ripples around my fingers. "As the God of Balance, I hold within me the power to maintain or destroy the equilibrium of existence itself. But that kind of power... it's not meant to be unleashed in the mortal world."
"But this isn't the mortal world," Hades observes quietly. "This is Nyx's domain within Tartarus."
"Exactly." I gesture to the darkness around us. "Here, in the realm of Night herself, the ancient laws that bound my power... they don't apply. The deeper we ventured into her territory, the more I could feel something awakening inside me. It was like... like I'd been reading a book with most of the pages glued together, and suddenly they all broke free at once."
The ground trembles slightly as I move, and I force myself to stay still. Every gesture now carries the weight of potential catastrophe. "I'm not just a god anymore," I continue, watching their faces carefully. "The power I feel... it's primordial. It's the power of Balance itself, as fundamental to existence as Night, or Day, or Earth."
"Impossible," Zeus breathes, but there's no conviction in his voice. He's seen what I can do now.
"Is it?" I ask, and for a moment, I let my full power flare. The air crystallizes, time stutters, and reality itself seems to bow around me. "The Fates didn't make me the God of Balance—they recognized what I already was. A force of nature given consciousness, given form. Given humanity." I look at my father as I say this, seeing the mix of pride and fear in his sea-green eyes.
Poseidon steps forward, his trident lowered. "The prophecies of the Morari," he says slowly. "They spoke of a force that would rise to challenge the natural order."
I nod, feeling the weight of destiny settling around us. "But they got it wrong. I'm not here to challenge the natural order—I am the natural order. Balance itself, given form and purpose." I gesture to where the monster army had been moments before. "What you just saw wasn't destruction. It was restoration. Those creatures... they were an affront to the natural balance. So I simply... restored equilibrium."
The power pulses through me again, and I watch as streams of golden energy dance between my fingers. "In the mortal world, the ancient laws contain this power because it has to be contained. Too much order, too much chaos—either one would destroy everything. That's why Balance must be maintained, must be... restricted."
"But here?" Hades asks, his dark eyes calculating.
"Here, in Nyx's domain, those restrictions don't apply. Here, I am what I truly am." I look at each of them in turn. "A primordial force. The power that maintains the equilibrium between order and chaos, between creation and destruction, between all opposing forces that make up reality."
Zeus shifts uncomfortably. "And when we return to the mortal world?"
"The restrictions will return," I assure him, though part of me aches at the thought. This power, this completeness—it feels right.
The air grows heavy with the weight of my words. I can feel the threads of fate adjusting, realigning around this new reality. The power thrums through me, ancient and vast and perfect.
"The age of simple gods and heroes is ending," I continue, my voice carrying the weight of certainty. "Something bigger is coming—something that will require all of us to evolve. The balance of power isn't just shifting—it's transforming. And we need to be ready."
I lift Storm Rider, watching as the blade pulses with primordial energy. "This isn't about power or control anymore. It's about survival. About adaptation." I meet each of their gazes. "The question isn't whether you'll accept this change—it's whether you'll help guide it."
The three most powerful Olympians stand before me, and for the first time, I see them not as unreachable deities but as what they truly are: pieces in a greater cosmic dance, just like me. Different in scale, perhaps, but part of the same grand design.
"So," I say, letting my power settle into a steady hum around us, "are you with me?"
The silence that follows is heavy with possibility. In this moment, standing in the depths of Tartarus with reality bending to my will, I understand that everything is about to change. The balance of power hasn't just shifted—it's been fundamentally transformed.
And as I stand there, waiting for their answer, I feel the weight of ages settling onto my shoulders. This is what I was always meant to be. Not just a hero, not just a god, but something more fundamental: the force that keeps the universe in check, the power that maintains the cosmic dance between order and chaos.
The real question is: are they ready for what comes next?
Because I am.
And the universe trembles in anticipation.
The weight of the moment hangs heavy in the air, an unspoken understanding passing between us. I can feel the energy swirling around me, the power coursing through my veins, resonating with the very fabric of existence. I'm no longer just a god; I'm a force of nature, and the gods before me—my family—are beginning to grasp what that truly means.
Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades stand in silence, their faces etched with a mixture of awe, fear, and realization. They know now that things cannot go back to the way they were. The world, the cosmos—they've all been irrevocably changed by my awakening. The ancient laws that once bound me, containing my true nature, no longer apply. In the realm of Night herself, I am free to be what I was always meant to be: the embodiment of Balance.
The silence stretches, almost unbearable. My father—Poseidon—his eyes dark with the weight of understanding, is the first to speak.
"Then we adapt," he says, his voice steady, but the authority of the sea flows through him, and I know he means it. "We can't afford to ignore what's ahead of us."
Zeus, still holding his master bolt in his hand, steps forward, his posture less rigid than I've ever seen it. There's something more subdued about him now, something more aware. He meets my gaze with a calmness.
"You're right," Zeus agrees, the crackling power of his lightning dissipating into the air. "This… this is beyond anything we've faced. But you're not alone in this, Percy." His voice deepens with resolve. "We're all part of this, whether we like it or not. And if we're going to evolve, we'll do it together."
Hades, the ever-calculating god of the Underworld, steps forward next. His dark eyes narrow, but I can see the calculation in his expression shifting into something like approval. His lips curl into the faintest of smiles.
"I see it now. Balance is more than a concept. It's the foundation of everything. And you're its embodiment." He pauses, his gaze lingering on me. "You're no longer just an Olympian. You're the force that will shape the future."
I can feel it in the air around us, the moment of final acceptance. The gods have always been a force unto themselves, mighty and singular in their own ways. But now, we stand united by something larger than our individual power—by the recognition that we must change, that the world we know is evolving, and we must evolve with it.
And with that, I know. We're in this together.
"Then let's go," I say, my voice firm and unwavering. I lift Storm Rider, feeling the primordial energy in the blade surge as I gesture to the temple that looms before us, a shadow in the distance, untouched by time. The Temple of Nyx. The place where the prophecy began, where the secrets of the Abyss are hidden.
Zeus nods, his eyes locked on mine, and his posture straightens, no longer hesitant. He grips his master bolt, ready for whatever comes next. Poseidon follows suit, his trident raised in silent agreement. Hades steps forward, his dark cloak flowing like shadows, his gaze never leaving the path ahead.
The Temple of Nyx looms before us, towering and silent, its obsidian stone glinting under the faint, distant light that never quite reaches the depth of this place. The air itself seems to bend, dark and suffocating, like the temple is holding its breath, waiting for us to cross its threshold. The stone walls rise high into the endless shadows above, stretching so far that even the gods have to strain their necks to see the top.
"Charming place," I mutter under my breath, my voice low but biting, like a challenge I'm throwing out into the dark. "Definitely screams 'come in, make yourself at home.'"
Poseidon gives me a look that's half disbelief, half a grin, but it's the kind of look that doesn't quite reach his eyes. His trident shifts in his hand, the weight of his own resolve settling into the air around him. He's always been the steady one, but there's a flicker of something unspoken in his gaze—maybe fear, maybe pride. I can't really tell.
Zeus is the first to step forward, his master bolt crackling with nervous energy, but I can see it in his posture—his unease, his reluctance. He's the king, the ruler of the heavens, but this... this is different. This is Nyx's domain, and here, his usual godly swagger doesn't quite seem to hold the same weight. He stands taller, readying himself for whatever comes next.
"We'll need to stay on guard," he says, his voice uncharacteristically tense, "No telling what kind of tricks this place has."
"Yeah," I reply, stepping forward with the same casual tone that's always been my armor. "Maybe they'll throw us a welcome party. You know, giant spiders, endless pits of fire—just the usual."
Hades rolls his eyes, but I catch the ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. The god of the Underworld, always calculating, always watching, and always prepared. There's no uncertainty in his expression—he's just as much at home in the dark as the rest of us are in the light. "If you keep talking like that, you might tempt fate," he warns, but the edge to his voice is one I know well—he respects my brand of humor, even when it's a little out of place.
I pause at the entrance, the air thickening around me, a weight that seems to press down on my chest. The doors behind us slam shut, and I can feel the change immediately—like the world has just taken a deep breath, holding its collective exhale. It's as if we've crossed into something ancient, something beyond mortal comprehension. A place where time doesn't matter, where space bends, and where the very essence of reality shifts beneath our feet.
The floor beneath us is smooth, black marble streaked with veins of silver that pulse with an energy I can't quite place. The walls are adorned with carvings—ancient symbols that twist and contort, the imagery of chaos and creation, night and day, light and dark, all warring and intertwining. It's a dizzying representation of everything that holds the universe together, and yet... it's also the silence of the void. There's no sound here, nothing except the quiet thrum of power in the air, and the steady beat of my heart.
"You don't get to be the God of Balance without having to walk into a few uncomfortable rooms," I say, breaking the heavy silence. My words ring out, sarcastic, but there's a thread of loyalty and fierce resolve woven through them. I can't help it; it's the only way I know how to deal with the weight of it all. "Besides, no one said I had to enjoy the company of goddesses of the night, right?"
Zeus looks over at me, the tiniest smirk playing at the edge of his lips, but even his laugh sounds off—like it's missing the usual strength of his thunder. "You know, your sarcasm might be the only thing keeping this from being an absolute disaster."
"I'll take that as a compliment," I say dryly, scanning the darkness around us. "Though I'm starting to think a disaster's inevitable. And honestly, if it's a fight we're in for, I'm ready."
Poseidon steps beside me, his sea-green eyes scanning the temple. "This is no ordinary place," he murmurs, his voice low, but there's a current to it, like the pull of the tides. "We have to be careful. Nyx doesn't allow trespassers lightly."
"Why else would we be here?" I reply, my voice steady but tinged with something sharp. "If we're not careful, we might as well pack up and head home."
Hades moves ahead, his footsteps silent against the marble, his dark presence cutting through the atmosphere like a blade. "The temple is alive," he says, his voice soft but commanding. "Feel it? The pull. The abyss. It's watching us."
I nod, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. I feel it too—the way the shadows seem to shift, the way the air grows thick, as if something is observing us, waiting for us to make a move. The power of the Abyss hums beneath our feet, like a heartbeat that is both ancient and inexorable. There's something here, something old, something waiting.
My eyes narrow, the sea green swirling with a storm that matches the building tension. "Well, if something wants to challenge us, it'll have to get in line."
I raise Storm Rider, the blade pulsing with primordial energy, a flicker of black lightning sparking from the edge. The others do the same—Poseidon's trident gleams, Zeus's bolt hums with crackling power, and Hades's shadowed aura spreads across the room like a cloak.
Together, we take our first step deeper into the temple, the sound of our movements echoing off the walls, a constant reminder that we're no longer on familiar ground.
The air in the temple is thick with ancient power, pressing down on us from every angle, a silent force that feels like it's been waiting for millennia to be disturbed. It's as if the very walls themselves breathe in the shadows, exhaling a chill that wraps around my lungs. The darkness here isn't just absence of light—it's alive. It moves like a living thing, pulsing with a rhythm that echoes my heartbeat.
With each step, the weight of my own power feels heavier, more intense. My feet don't just touch the stone beneath us—they seem to sink into it, as though reality itself is reacting to my presence. The power hums beneath my skin, an electric current that no longer shocks me, but feels... right.
The others follow close behind, though I can tell they're just as aware of the change as I am. The air crackles, and their footsteps sound louder than they should, breaking the eerie silence with every movement.
I glance back at my father—Poseidon, the god of the seas—and I catch a brief flash of concern in his eyes. He's used to power, used to authority, but even he can feel the overwhelming pull of this place. The temple isn't just built from stone and shadow; it's a living entity, as if Nyx herself shaped it to serve some unknowable purpose.
Zeus is silent beside him, his hand never far from his master bolt. Hades lingers just behind, his dark eyes narrowed, watching the shifting darkness with an expression I can't quite place. It's not fear—he's too used to the underworld for that—but something more... contemplative. He's as much a part of this world as I am now, but even he can't entirely predict what's going to happen next.
I push my own unease aside, focusing on the path ahead. The temple is long—longer than it should be. Endless hallways of obsidian stone twist and turn, each corridor leading to another. The silence presses down harder the deeper we go, wrapping around us like a thick fog. It's suffocating, but somehow, I don't mind it. This place was made for shadows, for those who don't mind stepping outside the lines of reality. It's familiar to me. It calls to me.
Then, I feel it.
A flicker of energy ahead. A hum, low and guttural, vibrating through the walls and into my bones. It's not the temple's power I feel—it's something else. A presence, ancient and infinite, stirring deep within the heart of the temple. The Heart of Nyx. I don't know how I know, but I can feel it. It's pulling me, calling me to it, like a tether stretched tight across a vast expanse of nothingness.
"Percy," Poseidon's voice breaks through my thoughts, low but urgent. I turn toward him, and his gaze is intense. "You feel it too, don't you?"
I don't have to answer. The flicker of energy pulses again, stronger this time, like an unseen hand brushing against my chest. The power of this place, of Nyx herself, is wrapping around us, binding us to the truth that we've all known was coming. The Heart of Nyx is here, hidden within the walls of this ancient temple.
And yet, I hesitate. I don't know why. The power inside me—the raw, unchecked force—makes me feel like I could rip the temple apart with a single thought. But something about this place feels... wrong. Not wrong in the sense that we shouldn't be here. But wrong in the sense that this power, this artifact we seek, is so much more than we realize. It's not just an object. It's a key. A key to something that even the gods don't fully understand.
"We should keep moving," Zeus says, breaking the moment of silence, his voice echoing off the walls. I can tell he's trying to hide the uncertainty in his tone, but it's there. Even the king of the gods is feeling the weight of this place. It's one thing to stand on a throne, commanding the heavens. But in Nyx's domain, no one is truly in control. Not even him.
With that, we move forward again, the tension thickening with each step.
The further we go, the more the darkness seems to press in, until it feels like the temple is a living, breathing thing, its very structure shifting beneath us, warping reality itself. The walls are covered in strange, shifting symbols—runes that seem to change with each glance, as if they're trying to communicate something we can't quite grasp. I recognize a few, but they're not from any language I know. They're ancient, older than even the gods. Ancient in a way that makes my skin crawl, as though they're from a time before time itself.
I see Hades studying them with interest, his fingers brushing lightly against the stone as we pass. He's no stranger to ancient magic, but even he's cautious. "These markings," he mutters, more to himself than anyone else, "they predate the first primordials."
I feel it then. A shudder runs through the air, and the ground beneath us trembles, just slightly, like the temple is acknowledging Hades' words. The symbols flicker, then shift, revealing something new—something... alive.
I grip Storm Rider tighter, the blade humming in response to the shifting power around us. My eyes flash with an intensity I can't control, the swirling storm of gold and green in my irises igniting as the temple pushes back, its shadows closing in like fingers tightening around our throats.
"We need to stay focused," I say, my voice rough, low, as the power stirs within me. "The Heart is close."
"Do you know what it is, Percy?" Poseidon asks, his voice thick with concern, as if he can sense the storm brewing inside me.
I don't look at him. I don't need to. I know what the Heart of Nyx is—the artifact we've come to find—but I also know it's not just an artifact. It's a test. A trial. This place isn't just here to hold the Heart—it's here to challenge us. To test whether we're worthy of wielding such power.
"Yeah," I say, my voice quieter now, but still carrying that edge. "But I don't think it's going to be as simple as just picking it up."
We round another corner, and then we see it.
The chamber ahead opens up into a massive hall, its ceiling lost in the shadows above. The walls are adorned with more of those ancient runes, their glowing light casting an eerie illumination across the room. But the center of the room is what draws my attention.
A pedestal, black as the void, sits in the middle of the chamber. On it rests a crystal—no, not a crystal, something far older, far more powerful. It pulses with a dark light, an energy so vast it makes my heart beat in sync with its rhythm. The Heart of Nyx.
I step forward without thinking. The power within me stirs, an instinct I can't explain, like I've been made for this moment. The Heart of Nyx calls to me, its pulse syncing with my own.
And just as I take the first step toward it, the shadows in the room shift.
Something moves.
We've fought our way past the first wave of shadows, but they're relentless. The temple, ancient and vast, seems to bend and shift with every step we take. It's like the very structure of this place is alive, reacting to our presence, testing us in ways I can't fully understand.
I glance around, my eyes sweeping over the eerie stone walls that rise in jagged columns toward an infinite ceiling. The dim light flickers, barely illuminating the path ahead. The shadows stretch long and strange in this place, moving like living things. Every time I think I've cleared the space, another tendril slithers out of the dark, and the darkness, thick and suffocating, seems to be playing tricks on my mind.
My grip tightens around Storm Rider as I push forward, the blade crackling with a low hum, ready to tear through anything in its path.
We move deeper into the heart of the temple, the air thickening with each step. It's like the silence is pressing in on us, smothering us with its weight. The sounds of our footsteps reverberate like thunder in this empty, cavernous hall. There's an almost palpable tension in the air, a sense that we're being watched.
The temple doesn't want us here. I can feel it in my bones.
"We're getting close," Zeus mutters, his voice echoing slightly in the emptiness.
I can see the flicker of concern in his eyes—his stormy gaze sharp, calculating, but even he can't hide the unease gnawing at him. We all feel it. It's like the temple itself is trying to force us back, like it's alive, pushing against our intrusion.
"We need to keep moving," I say, my voice steady, though I can feel the storm inside me starting to churn. There's an intensity building, a dangerous undercurrent. My powers are almost too much to keep in check, like they're fighting against me, trying to break free. It's a constant battle, holding back what's inside me.
But I can't afford to lose control—not now. Not when the Heart of Nyx is so close.
The path ahead twists, dark and narrow, leading us deeper into the heart of the temple. The walls seem to close in around us, the air growing thicker, colder. My breath hitches as we pass through an archway, and I feel it—the pressure on my chest, a strange pull. It's like the weight of this place is bearing down on us, testing us at every turn.
We round another corner, and that's when I see it.
The Heart of Nyx.
It's not like I expected—a glowing relic or a majestic artifact resting on some pedestal. No, it's something far more subtle. The Heart lies dormant in the center of an open chamber, a swirling mass of darkness and starlight. It pulses with an energy that vibrates through the very air. The Heart is like a tear in reality itself—no, more than that, it's a rift, a crack in the very fabric of existence, and I can feel it tugging at something inside me. A part of me wants to step forward and seize it, but the other part of me... the part that knows this place is dangerous, that knows the power it holds... holds me back.
We all stop as we enter the chamber, our eyes drawn immediately to the artifact.
"That's it," Poseidon says, his voice a low murmur. "That's what we've come for."
I can see the hesitation in his eyes, the same hesitation I feel. The Heart of Nyx is not just a relic—it's a force, something more than we're prepared for. The weight of its power presses down on us, heavy and cold.
Zeus steps forward, his gaze fixed on the Heart. "We've come too far to turn back now," he says, his voice ringing with the authority that only the king of the gods can command. But even as he speaks, I can hear the undercurrent of doubt in his tone. This place is foreign, even to him. And I know it's not just the shadows that make him uneasy.
But there's no turning back now. Not when we're so close.
"Let's just get it and get out," I say, my voice grating as I finally take a step forward. I can feel the energy in the air intensify as I move, like the temple itself is reacting to my every motion.
Suddenly, the chamber trembles, the ground beneath us shifting as the shadows twist around us. They're not just the same mindless dark entities we've been fighting—they're alive now, responding to our presence, filling the chamber with an eerie chorus of whispers.
I feel a cold finger run up my spine, and I turn to find the shadows closing in, their dark tendrils stretching out like claws, reaching for us.
"You've come for the Heart, haven't you?" a voice hisses from the depths of the darkness.
I freeze. It's not a whisper—it's a command. The voice feels like it's coming from all directions at once, reverberating in my skull, chilling me to my core.
"Who's there?" I demand, lifting Storm Rider. The blade crackles in my grip, black lightning dancing along its length.
The shadows seem to shift, coiling and twisting as a figure emerges from the darkness. It's impossible to see its face, but I can feel its presence—heavy, ancient, powerful. The figure moves forward, stepping into the dim light. It's a being of the shadows, its form shifting and changing like liquid darkness. But there's something more. I can sense it—an ancient, primordial presence that makes my skin crawl.
"You are not meant to wield the Heart," the figure says, its voice a low growl. "You cannot control what was never meant to be controlled."
I take a step back, my heart racing in my chest. I don't know who—or what—this thing is, but I know one thing: it's here to stop us. And from the look in its swirling, shadowed eyes, it's not afraid of us.
"It's too late," I say, my voice steady despite the unease spreading through me. "We've come this far. We're taking the Heart."
The figure laughs—a cold, hollow sound that echoes in the temple. "You think you can take it? You're already too late. The Heart is bound to this place, and it will not let you leave with it."
And then it strikes.
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Thanks for reading, as always leave a review down below! Constructive criticism is always appreciated.
magocrat777: Thanks for the feedback! I'll work on fixing the POV changes, from here on out you all will see the POV every time it switches, if nothing is stated; assume it to be first-person Percy POV.
Okoh: Same thing, working on the POV changes, thanks for the feedback!
PhantomFuryJP, Isles: Thanks for the support! Glad to see you enjoying the story.
Another update, I hope you all have noticed that the general formatting has changed a little. I'm experimenting on which looks best, but as of right now; the current format is speaking to me. Also, once every few chapters, I'll respond to the reviews here at the bottom of the chapter like I did today, hoping to do this every chapter once the story grows bigger. Thanks for the support!