"Sorry about Triton," My dad told me as he walked me to my room. I could tell he felt bad. Kind of like I was before [Gamer's Mind] came along, he wasn't the best at hiding his emotions when it came to people he cared about. "I wasn't expecting that."

The ceremony ended ages ago. After getting over the initial shock of his singing son, my dad just shook his head and blasted me with that large mass of mana.

It didn't hurt. Actually, it felt a lot like a warm hug. That feeling I'd gotten earlier when I smashed through the glassy dome of Atlantis was gone, and instead, I felt completely and utterly weightless. I couldn't feel my body unless I actively tried to.

Which was weird.

But, at the same time, it was kind of amazing.

I felt like I could move faster, jump higher. That whole shtick.

And, well, now I had a decent idea of why my dad called me down here instead of training me above the ground. I got the sense that we'll get a lot more done down here.

Soon after, Poseidon quickly called an end to the dinner, and everyone else quite literally just disappeared. One moment, the table was completely full, and the next, it was empty, as if someone had just shut off a switch somewhere.

I guess they all had stuff to do.

Triton stayed behind, only to fling some mashed potatoes at me while I was still kneeling and then run away, giggling madly. I don't know if he actually used his powers, or what, but the glob hit me squarely in the face, even when I tried to dodge it or put up a water wall. The worst part was that it just wouldn't come off.

My dad literally had to blast me with his trident a few times. Even then, some of the—you know what, I don't want to talk about that anymore.

The two of us walked through the hallways of his palace. My eyes caught the random pulse of jellyfish somewhere off toward the ceiling. It was sort of jarring to see the sea life so incorporated into everyday life. Or any animals, really. When was the last time you saw an animal floating around your house for no reason?

Down here in Atlantis, not only were the animals just randomly moving around, but they also had functional use. You know those scary-looking fish with the little guiding light in front of their heads? As we walked, I saw some of the servants in the palace use those as torches.

I held back my annoyance and just gave Poseidon a smile, "It's no problem. Really."

"Thank you, son," Poseidon smiled back. Some of the tension seeped out of his shoulders. A few of the spirits from before turned, bowing for a moment before scurrying off. "Still…I had guards positioned all around his room. It's surprising to me that he got through."

"Why?" I said, my voice trailing off. I couldn't put what I was thinking into words without sounding at least a little bit rude. It was hard enough to vocalize what I wanted to vocalize, and it didn't help that there were about a dozen different questions I had: Why is he like that? Why didn't you want him at the ceremony? Why does he know Elton John? Why is he so good at throwing mashed potatoes around?

The last two aren't as important as the other two. Well, to me, they are, but in the grand scheme of things...eh?

"We'll talk inside," Poseidon's relaxed smile faltered for a moment as we stopped in front of an ornately welded bronze door. "Away from...prying ears."

He waved his hand, and the door slid open with a SHINK!

"This is your room," he said.

As far as bedrooms go, it wasn't bad at all. The floor was the same as the outside of the palace, and the walls were a plain shade of navy blue.

I think there was a picture frame of a dolphin by one of the two windows, which overlooked the city. There was a small Queen-sized bed towards the middle of the far wall, and a dresser and bedside table facing it.

There was a little dolphin plushie on the pillow. To tell you the truth, I wasn't particularly wowed away by the room until I saw the stuffed animal. As silly as it sounds, it made me feel like Poseidon actually went out of his way to do all of this, you know? No one else could've known about my love for dolphins, and no one else would've gone through the trouble of getting me the exact plushie I used to have as a kid.

I sat down on my bed, my body sinking into the soft material. My hands ran through the bedsheets, patting down the soft, velvet-like feel of them. How things change. I would've given anything for a bed like this a year ago.

"I like it," I said honestly. I wasn't one for dramatics or flashiness. I mean, I'm here to learn from my dad, right? I don't need a five-star hotel room for that. I could be put in the stables, for all I care. Poseidon gave me a stiff nod, and I couldn't help but ask, "Is something wrong?"

Poseidon attempted a smile, but it was a poor disguise, and we both knew it. I'm not sure when I got so good at reading him, but this time it wasn't even a challenge. That look—forced and weary—I recognized it instantly. I'd seen it too many times on my mom's face after a long day of work.

Poseidon sighed, "Honestly, Percy, I'm nervous."

"Nervous?" What could make a god nervous? "About what?"

"I fear I haven't been completely honest with you," Poseidon exhaled slowly. Worry lines creased his forehead. "About why I called you down here, I mean."

The bed suddenly didn't feel as soft as before. There was a slight groan from outside, and half of the room was darkened by the shadow of a passing whale. I stared at him. "You haven't?"

"Not entirely. I do want to train you. I do want you here. But…well," Poseidon took a deep breath. He sagged a bit, and in that moment, he looked ancient. "You see, son, something terrible happened seventy years ago. A horrible, costly, war."

"Sure," I replied, "The Second World War. The Allied Powers and the Axis Powers fought for, like, six years. It ended with the Allies winning."

"Almost," Poseidon said, his normally bright eyes darkening slightly. "The story told in those books, my son, has been doctored. World War II was, in fact, a mammoth fight between the children of Zeus and Poseidon on one side and the children of Hades on the other."

"Hitler," I blinked as my brain immediately connected the dots. I caught my dad's embarrassed nod. "He was Uncle Hades' son, wasn't he?"

"We told him not to go clubbing that night," My dad muttered under his breath. "Germany had just been crippled by the First World War, though. Misery, pain, starvation—every sort of strife that could befall a country was running rampant in Germany."

I snorted. "In other words, it was basically calling to him."

"Precisely," Poseidon agreed, a small chuckle finding its way out of him. "Hades went there to 'vacation,' as he put it. You know, push elderly women, cause crops to go bad, whisper in the ears of the sinful."

"How does that explain Hitler, though?" I interjected, raising an eyebrow. "Hitler was an adult around this time."

"Hitler wasn't a biological son of Hades. Truthfully, Hitler was a legacy. His maternal grandmother and grandfather had been children of Nemesis and Morpheus, respectfully. Hitler found Hades in the midst of a night of debauchery," My dad told me. I could feel him start to get a bit angry. "He convinced Hades to give him his staff. Then, he wielded it to start the war."

"Why didn't Hades just take it back?" I pointed out. Frowning, I continued, "And how does that lead to Hitler being adopted?"

"The staff can only be wielded by Hades and his children. It's backward logic, but since Hitler convinced your uncle to lend him that power, it also means that he was adopted. The staff made it so. It's the same process that Hestia did with you. You convinced her you were the best of us, and that you'd fight for your family. Hitler just did the same thing."

I nodded. "I get it. The staff can only be used by Hades and his children. Hitler is using it, ergo, he's a child of Hades."

Ugh. Thinking about it again is giving me a headache. Olympians and their logic. If it were me, I'd never leave something so important in an open-ended way. This is the kind of lame thing I find it so hard to look past.

What's the point of having all this power and millennia of experience if it means you still make screw-ups like that?

"Don't judge your uncle too harshly," Poseidon warned, seeing through my words. I mean, I guess he is my dad for a reason. "The process of creating a weapon for a god involves a phenomenon called a mana condition. Basically, you seal away your will into a weapon and swear to use it in certain ways, and that heavily boosts its power. It's a bit complicated to explain right now, but I promise we'll dive in at some point. The point I was trying to reach, is, most godly weapons have a familial condition."

He tossed me his trident, which I caught out of the air.

It was like holding a Taser. I felt my fingers hum with energy as they wrapped around the base of the trident. "Whoa…"

"You feel the power, I trust?" Poseidon said coyly, a small smile forming at the former of his mouth. The smile was wiped away a moment later. "Imagine what you could do with that much power."

"Too much," The trident's tips pooled with green energy. It was like a mana battery. Not only did it heighten my own power, but it, in turn, used that power to get stronger, itself. It was a cycle, that if left unchecked, could give me infinite power. "This is insane."

"Hades could not recover his own weapon, due to Hitler's influence. The staff gave him the ability to mask his presence from higher beings," Poseidon continued. A small wince crossed over his face. "With the staff, he could bestow power to mortals. Pretty soon, he had an entire army of pseudo-demigods. We had to send our own children to recover it."

"You don't need to keep going," I said softly. It didn't take a genius to figure out what happened next.

What I was curious about, though, was how they won. Maybe Zeus and Poseidon gave their own children their symbols of power…

"The events of World War II resulted in a pact," My dad said. "The Big Three decided to not sire any more children. They just kept affecting the course of history too much, oftentimes changing it for the worse."

"How so?" I wondered out loud. "How do they affect the course of history? I mean, I get that Hitler started this war, but weren't your children just dragged in to clean up what he was doing? How could they be held accountable?"

"Life, especially as a god, is not about what's fair. Sometimes, it's about doing what's right for the betterment of those around you," Poseidon took a deep breath. I knew whatever he was going to tell me next was big. "Around this time, the Oracle of Delphi gave a prophecy: A half-blood of the eldest gods shall reach sixteen against all odds. And see the world in endless sleep. The hero's soul, cursed blade shall reap. A single choice shall end his days, Olympus to preserve or raze…"

— - —

Quest Alert!

[XXXXX]

{The Cursed Hero!}

[Quest Prompt]: Fate waits for no man.

[Total Possible Rewards]:

- [?]

Please select: [YES/NO]

— - —

The [NO] was grayed out. I tried in vain to click it a few times, only for the quest to automatically accept itself after a few moments.

My blood ran cold. I looked up to meet my dad's eyes, only to find him looking away. "Me."

"You," Poseidon repeated, almost mournfully. "A few years ago, we might've thought it to be Thalia, your cousin."

"Yeah, and now she's a tree," I tried to joke, but it fell horribly flat. In my defense, demigod standup is hard. Most of our jokes end up defaulting to death, "Basically, I have to decide to save or destroy Olympus, and die in the process? Does this have to do with earlier this summer, when we talked about your dear old dad?"

Poseidon paused for a moment. "Prophecies can be interpreted in many different ways."

"So, yes."

"Maybe."

I cracked a smile. "So that's why you want to train me. You think I'm going to have to fight him."

"Well, sort of," Poseidon admitted. "You've proven yourself to be capable of growing and learning at a fast pace. I'd like to nurture that growth."

"Okay," I said, stretching. "When do we start?"

"Now," Poseidon said, still standing. The trident flew back into his outstretched palm. "I will personally be overseeing a lot of your training, but a decent portion of it will also be carried out by my commanders."

"The battle experience portion," I guessed, to which he nodded.

"Atlantis has five different quadrants, each pertaining to a different aspect of the army," Poseidon explained, holding up his hand. One of his fingers went down. "First up, the first quadrant—sóma érevnas. We call them the firsts, for short. These are usually among the most elite soldiers. They are tasked with attempting to reclaim territory that has been lost to the Titans."

"The Titans?" I repeated. A sudden apprehension formed in my body, accompanied by an odd sense of excitement.

Poseidon nodded grimly. "Oceanus and I have been at war for an incomprehensible amount of time, and we've both constantly been taking land from each other. These are the men I send out to carry my will."

"Second, the second quadrant. eirineftés—the peacekeepers. They're the ones in charge of keeping order inside of Atlantis and protecting the ruling monarch—me. I don't need much protecting, mind you, but it never hurts to have it," My dad said seriously. "I don't allow just anyone to join, either. The last few times there has been an attempt made on my life, it has been from a vengeful deity or two. Keeping this in mind, only the top ten trainees from a graduating class are permitted to join them. Out of those ten, only one or two actually make the cut—they're the guards in the castle."

"Fair enough."

"Third, the frourá. These are the men who patrol the streets of Atlantis, helping out the citizens and maintaining the integrity of our borders. They'd be the equivalent of your police."

Poseidon took a seat next to me. "Next up, kataskopeí—our espionage division. Basically, it's what it sounds like. I'm, er, not exactly allowed to say much more."

"Delta runs it," I remembered from earlier. I enjoyed watching my dad's face lose its color.

"I—er, well, lastly, we have the training corps," Poseidon said lamely. "It's what it sounds like. That's where the bulk of our army is, training and staying in shape. Basically, son, I wanted to give you the option. Who will you join?"

The whispers came first, faint and fragmented, like voices carried on a breeze that didn't exist. They filtered into the room, slipping through cracks I couldn't see, and with every word, my body froze. Completely. My breath hitched, and I felt a sudden, overwhelming stillness, like the world itself had been put on pause.

Panic gripped me. I turned my gaze to Poseidon, desperate for some kind of reassurance, but he wasn't moving either. He stood there, frozen mid-sentence, his mouth half-open, one hand gesturing in midair. It was like someone had hit the pause button on reality, leaving me as the only one still aware.

Then, from the top of the room, a single droplet of inky black liquid fell, splattering against the floor with a sound far too loud for something so small. I watched, wide-eyed, as more drops followed, pattering steadily, their rhythm hypnotic and unnatural. The liquid didn't just pool—it moved. It oozed together, forming a viscous blob that quivered and pulsed, almost like it was alive.

The blob began to bounce, stretching and contorting as though testing the limits of its shape. My heart pounded in my chest as it suddenly exploded, sending splatters of black ichor across the floor. But it didn't stop there.

The dark liquid pulled itself back together, reforming into sharp, angular shapes. Letters. Words. They hovered above the ground, suspended in the air, their jagged edges shimmering faintly. The words didn't just exist—they devoured. The light from the room seemed to bend and warp, drawn toward the ink like it was being consumed. Shadows lengthened and stretched, and everything else around me dimmed, leaving those ominous, inky words as the undeniable focal point.

I could move again. I turned to face my dad, but he was still frozen in place. Oh well. Let's see what the game wants.

— - —

~ Welcome! You have reached a [Pivotal Decision].

— - —

Pivotal decision? While I can sort of put two and two together, I'm going to need a little bit more than that, game.

The inky words swirled, jumbling back together and stretching into two crisscrossing lines, forming four spaces.

Each space took on color.

The top left was red, then the top right was blue. The bottom left took on a green shine and the last space was white.

What in Zeus' name was going on?

The world seemed to bend for a moment. The light rays around the top left twisted and my vision zoomed in.

— - —

~ [Pivotal Decisions] are accompanied by {Evolutionary Perks}. Unlike standard perks that offer fixed benefit paths, {Evolutionary Perks} grow or adapt alongside your progress. They might gain new effects when you complete certain objectives, face key story events, or reach higher levels. Essentially, each critical decision you make shapes how these perks develop—giving you a dynamic edge that reflects the path you've chosen.

— - —

— - —

[Storyline Choice 1]

{Titan's Bane!}

[Description]: Join the First Quadrant and go off into the world of the sea! Fight horrendous monsters and uncover a plan threatening to overtake Atlantis…and the whole world itself.

[Benefits:] You will gain heightened combat knowledge and power, along with significant power boosts per each level. With direct access to Alpha, who's arguably the strongest non-royal solider the city has ever seen, every aspect of your offensive skillset will be molded.

[Drawbacks:] As a part of your duty, you will fight stronger enemies and face death in a way you couldn't even imagine.

{Evolutionary Perk}

[Saikyō no Heishi]: Gain boosts in combat when fighting Titanic deities!

— - —

Uhh…I clicked the little asterisk. According to the game, evolution perks were perks that would start in their base forms when I started a specific storyline. If I did certain objectives during the storyline, the perk would evolve and get better. Interesting.

So I guess this is like one of those decisions in the Infamous games, where I choose a color and that decision changes the outcome of everything to follow.

No pressure, right?

The second square zoomed in.

— - —

[Storyline Choice 2]

{Triton's Folly!}

[Description]: Become a part of Triton's personal guard, protecting him as you dive deeper into the mental intricacies of his damaged psyche! Can you protect him, both physically and mentally as he takes up his mantle as the heir of the sea?

[Benefits:] You will gain a companion, as well as learn about the history of Atlantis! You'll gain unlimited access to leadership training that will greatly increase your progress as a future commander and show you how to lead by example.

[Drawbacks:] There is not much violence or combat involved! This path focuses more on softer skills and refining you as a person.

{Evolutionary Perk}

[The Charismatic Switch]: Learn how to harness the true essence of your charisma, gaining significant boosts in your personality traits and leadership qualities.

— - —

Well…I don't want to sound rude, but this honestly sounds like being a glorified babysitter. Look, I feel for him. I do.

It clearly sounds like he's got some sort of issues going on. I didn't come here for that, though. I need to gain something that can give me an edge in the prophecy—against Kronos.

I don't think being charismatic will stop my head from being sliced open. The leadership quality part could be good, but I don't see myself choosing this one.

— - —

[Storyline Choice 3]

{The People's Prince!}

[Description]: Opt to patrol the vibrant streets of Atlantis and serve as a guardian of its citizens. Rather than chasing down leviathans and Titan warlords, you'll focus on the day-to-day well-being of the Atlantean people, forging bonds with merchants, travelers, and families alike. Over time, you'll discover that true power doesn't always come from defeating monsters—it can also arise from the faith and support of those who look up to you.

[Benefits:] You'll build a strong reputation among Atlantis's populace—earning trust, goodwill, and potential favors or discounts from local vendors. Furthermore, through these connections, you'll uncover the true progenitor of mana and cultivate relationships and networks that might open unexpected opportunities or alternative questlines in the future.

[Drawbacks:] While you'll face occasional street-level threats, the high-stakes monster battles will be fewer and farther between. Also, higher-ranking military officials may look down on your choice, believing your talents could be put to "better" use on the front lines.

{Evolutionary Perk}

[Fan Favorite]: By dedicating yourself to the day-to-day protection of Atlantean citizens, you become a symbol of hope and security for the people. As you gain popularity, you'll find that the bond you share with the residents can unlock hidden reserves of power—both emotional and magical.

— - —

Like the Triton one, this one doesn't seem, like, bad, but it also doesn't seem too fun.

The only part of this quest that caught my eye was learning where mana came from. On the other hand, that's also the kind of thing I can just ask Hestia about. I can't waste an opportunity like this just because I'm curious.

Not to mention, I didn't give up my entire summer to become a police officer—even if it does sound like a worthwhile job to keep these people safe.

— - —

[Storyline Choice 4]

{A Rotting Core!}

[Description]: Dark whispers circulate through Atlantis—something malevolent festers beneath the pristine facade. Where others see splendor, you see the creeping shadow of corruption, threatening to tear the kingdom apart from within. Your mission is to locate this cancer and cut it out before it spreads, regardless of the cost. You'll need more than brute force to succeed: deception, investigation, and moral fortitude will all be tested as you delve into hidden plots and insidious secrets.

[Benefits:] To succeed in this sort of mission, you'll need to learn how to become a spy—through trial by fire, you'll be forced to learn things like reconnaissance, manipulation, and maintaining mental fortitude in the hardest of situations.

[Drawbacks:] Rooting out corruption may force you into questionable dealings or betrayals, leaving you wrestling with guilt or tarnishing your reputation. The enemy you're hunting won't sit idly by; expect traps, double-crosses, and hidden foes who'd kill to keep their secrets buried.

{Evolutionary Perk}

[The Ghoul of Atlantis]: By peering into the darkest corners of Atlantis, you risk unveiling a darker part of yourself. This perk reflects the toll taken on your psyche as you act in secrecy and subterfuge, eroding the comforting illusions you once clung to.

— - —

Er…that seems ominous. I'm more than intrigued by the unknown pros, though. Plus, the prospect of working under Delta is interesting, to say the least.

I took a deep breath, zooming in and out of all of the choices.

Pretty easily, I'm crossing out the Triton one and the police officer one. Maybe if I got this before my dad told me about the prophecy, I might've even entertained the idea.

Now, though? I'm more determined than ever. I've got too much left to do in this world to die so fast.

The real decision boils down to the first and last decisions. Both sound important—it's pretty clear that either one revolves around the fate of not only just Atlantis but the entire world itself.

Logically speaking, the first one seems like a safer choice. It outlines what I'm going to be doing in a pretty straightforward way.

Sure, it's dangerous, but I'm getting some good training and experience out of it. I might even get to fight some Titans!

Not to mention, I'll walk away with a really nice perk out of it, too. It sounds like exactly what I came down here for.

Then why is the last one weighing on me so much?

I can always train to get better, but will I ever really get the chance to do what the last one is offering? I don't even know what it's offering. What if it's some once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that I'll never get again?

Not to mention, it seems more pressing at the moment. The first one is talking about a threat outside of Atlantis. Immediately, no one is in danger. The last one, though—it's saying there's a problem right in the heart of Atlantis itself.

Wait, if I choose one, does it automatically make the others void? Will my choice of the last one ensure that none of the others happen?

I pressed my temples. This was getting to be a headache.

If I choose the last one, I'm limiting the scope of the damage. If the problem starts in Atlantis, I can end it in Atlantis, nipping it in the bud.

I'll know the area. I can keep people safe. I'll always be around.

If I go with the first one, I'll be out of my element. Threats could be coming from anywhere, at any time. I'd get to fight, yes, but what about Atlantis? Could I go out and turn around to find the city razed to the ground?

I can't risk that. Not to sound cocky, but if there's a problem this game generates, I'll be the only one to know enough about it to handle it. If my dad decides to get his hands dirty, another threat could work its way in during his moment of distraction.

I can be much more of a help in Atlantis, as opposed to the overworld. My perks and skills underwater significantly boost my powers and endurance down here.

My point is, I can protect people.

I exhaled slowly, flipping through the screens again. I feel like I'm going to regret this.

I clicked the last screen.

There was a loud gong!

The ink and screens disappeared quickly, and time seemed to flow normally.

"I'll go with the espionage division," I answered confidently.

"Not bad, son," Poseidon complimented, standing up and brushing his shirt. "Let's get you started, then."

I raised an eyebrow but followed him as he left the room. We walked downwards, kind of near the entrance of the hall.

I still find it hard to believe I'm underwater. It honestly feels so natural—I can't believe I haven't done this before! Well, like this, I mean. I've been swimming before. Obviously.

We stopped in front of a door. At first glance, it didn't seem particularly special—it looked almost identical to the door to my room, the same sleek, Atlantean design with smooth curves and intricate carvings.

The only real difference was the sign affixed to the center, its bold, jagged letters reading: DO NOT ENTER.

Naturally, we entered.

The room beyond was dimly lit, but my eyes quickly adjusted to the low light. It was small, almost cozy, but not in a comforting way. It reminded me of a waiting room—functional, plain, and designed to make you sit still. A few mismatched chairs were arranged on a rug that looked like it was made from the pelt of some aquatic creature. The texture was smooth but faintly ridged, its shimmering gray-blue surface catching the faint glow of the room's odd lighting.

In the center of the space, a low table sat cluttered with newspapers and magazines, their corners curling from what I assumed was years of neglect. The headlines weren't in English—or any language I recognized—but the bold designs and chaotic layouts gave me the sense they were meant to be warnings rather than casual reading material.

The light in the room came from a small, translucent jellyfish that floated lazily near the ceiling. Its soft, bioluminescent glow pulsed faintly, casting gentle, rippling shadows on the walls. The light was interrupted every so often by brief flashes of crimson that seeped through the slatted windows, likely from the red lights lining the palace exterior. The effect made the space feel alive, like the room itself was breathing in time with the jellyfish's slow, rhythmic movements.

Delta was sitting in one of the chairs. His left hand held a roll of bread, which he casually bit into between strokes of the blade he was sharpening in his right. The soft sound of steel scraping against stone filled the room, steady and methodical, almost like a heartbeat.

As we stepped inside, Delta's gaze lifted, his piercing blue eyes meeting mine first, then sliding to my dad. The faint shadows cast by the jellyfish flickered against his sharp features, giving him an almost predatory edge.

Unlike most people I'd encountered here, Delta didn't bow. He didn't rise to greet us, either—not even when he saw Poseidon standing in the doorway. He simply sat there, unbothered, continuing to sharpen his knife as if a literal god hadn't just entered the room.

There was something about him—an unshakable confidence that felt as solid as the blade in his hand. It wasn't arrogance, exactly. It was quieter, steadier.

Poseidon clapped my shoulder. "Delta, lad? I have a new cadet for you."

"My lord," Delta placed the bread and knife down. His cold eyes roved over me, and a thin smile hung across his face, I thought you would."

"Yes, well, I'll leave you two to it," Poseidon said, clapping my shoulder again. I got the vibe that he didn't like being down here too much. "See you in a few days for your first session, son. Try not to kill him, Delta."

"No promises," Delta said flatly. Poseidon chuckled awkwardly and all but ran from the room.

"So, kid," Delta said, walking up to me. "You chose mine, huh? I get something to rub in all of the other commander's faces next time."

"I did," I answered, still using [Observe] on him. This guy's stats were off the damn charts! He was almost on a minor god's level of power.

"Well, you're crazy for it," Delta was back to munching his bread. He sheathed his knife and threw an arm around my shoulder. "Let's go."

Go where?

Before I could ask, the wall adjacent to where we were standing shimmered, then simply vanished, dissolving into thin air. I forced myself to keep my expression neutral—showing any sign of surprise or weakness around someone like Delta wouldn't do me any favors.

He might've been calm, but there was a sharpness to him that reminded me of Annabeth—like he'd pick apart anything I gave away and use it against me.

We stepped into what looked like an armory, though it was unlike any armory I'd ever seen.

Rows of lockers lined the walls, resembling something out of a high-end gym—if high-end gyms had lockers tall enough to tower over me and wide enough to fit three of me inside. The room smelled faintly metallic, and the faint clink of steel echoed softly, the sound bouncing off the smooth, polished walls.

Weapons were scattered everywhere. Swords leaned against locker doors, daggers were strewn across tables, and racks of spears loomed in the corners like silent sentinels. It was chaotic, but there was something deliberate about the disorder like every piece had been placed exactly where it was meant to be.

I glanced at one of the open lockers as we walked past, curious. It was empty, its interior lined with faint grooves and markings that hinted at something having been stored there for a long time. The emptiness seemed… intentional, like the locker was waiting for its owner to return.

"Now, your father's probably hoping I'll go easy on you," Delta said, his tone casual as he took another bite of bread. "But let's get one thing straight—I won't be doing that. In any capacity."

His words hung in the air for a moment, "Our division doesn't run field trips. If you want to stay here and learn, you'll need to pull your weight—go on missions, earn your keep. I don't have much use for an asset that doesn't work. Do you understand? There will be no special treatment here."

We came to a stop in front of the empty locker I'd noticed earlier. Delta turned to face me fully now, his gaze sharp and unyielding, his demeanor calm but serious. "If you want out after hearing this, that's fine. I won't blame you. But, if you choose to stay, I'll need your best and nothing short of it."

Before I could respond, he snapped his fingers. A faint ripple of energy pulsed through the air, and suddenly, the locker wasn't empty anymore. Inside, an all-black suit of armor materialized, its surface gleaming faintly in the dim light.

I narrowed my eyes, stepping closer. This wasn't like any armor I'd ever seen before. It wasn't made of metal, for one thing. Instead, the material looked like some kind of hide, textured with subtle ridges and faint patterns that shifted when the light hit them. It radiated a faint, almost imperceptible glow—so subtle that if you weren't paying attention, you might've missed it altogether.

— - —

[Special]

{Drakonhide Armor}

[Description]: Drakons are giant, monster serpent-like creatures several millennia older than dragons. Their hide is incredibly resistant and can repel certain variations of magical attacks. This armor is [Special]. When equipped, this armor grants completely silent movement. Additionally, standing perfectly still in the shadows renders you temporarily invisible.

— - —

"Not too many people know what we do," Delta said, breaking me out of my thoughts. He looked at the armor. "We're sort of like spies. There's a lot of shit that goes down behind the scenes in this perfect city, and it's our job to sift through it."

I tilted my head, trying to gauge him. Delta didn't seem like the type to open up easily, so this felt deliberate—like he wanted me to know just enough to keep me curious. "What kind of stuff?"

"Nice try," Delta said with a laugh, his sharp smile carrying just enough amusement to feel dangerous. "You don't get to know until you join."

I stared at him, leaning against the locker. "Why wouldn't I join?"

A cold smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Most people don't like our training methods. Our soldiers are supposed to be immovable. Unbreakable. Emotionless in battle. On the off chance you're captured by the enemy, we can't have you squealing like a pig, can we?"

"Fair point," I said, nodding as I reached out to touch the armor in the locker. It felt rough and thick under my fingers, almost more like a winter jacket than a traditional piece of armor. My mind wandered as I traced its texture—what kind of battles had Delta fought to earn the confidence he carried so effortlessly? And why did he seem like he belonged more to the shadows than the shining city of Atlantis?

"Mm," Delta murmured, breaking the silence. "Before we even talk about briefings or missions, you'll need to pass the mental fortitude test."

I glanced at him. "Mental fortitude test?"

"All of our soldiers take it. It's mandatory," he said with a shrug. "We can't have people breaking under pressure in the field."

"What kind of test is this?" I asked warily. I swear, if these guys made me take the SAT, I'd know for sure I'd made the wrong choice.

"It's multilayered," Delta explained. "First, there's a sort of IQ test. Straightforward enough—we need soldiers who can analyze and adapt on the fly. After that, the fun part begins. We strap you into a chair and give you a codeword. Someone else comes in and tries to interrogate it out of you."

I blinked. "Interrogate me? Sure. Sounds fun."

Delta raised an eyebrow, a flicker of amusement passing over his face. "Your poker face isn't bad, kid," he said, smirking. "Don't worry. The first time is always the hardest. If you live—sorry, I mean pass—we'll come back and get this."

"Great," I muttered, doing my best not to picture myself strapped to a chair while some Atlantean interrogator shouted questions in my face. "Can't wait."

Delta chuckled softly, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied me. For a moment, his confident mask slipped, and I caught a glimpse of something deeper—a flicker of memory, "Your father mentioned you're sharp. I'll give you this much—you've got guts. But guts only get you so far. Intelligence, adaptability, and discipline…those are what keep you alive out there. Trust me on that."

"Sounds like you'd know," I said, testing the waters. "How long have you been doing this?"

Delta paused, his expression unreadable. "Longer than you've been alive," he said finally, his tone clipped but not unkind. "Poseidon trained me himself. Took me under his wing when I was a kid, and showed me what it takes to serve Atlantis. I've been part of this division ever since."

My dad had trained him personally? That explained a lot—his confidence, his skill, the way he carried himself like he could handle anything. It also made him more intimidating, knowing he'd been honing his craft for centuries.

Delta led me through another room. This room was empty, save for a desk and a chair. I sat down in it at Delta's gesture.

The test…how do I even describe it?

Imagine the most boring, mind-numbingly tedious thing you've done in your life. Now multiply that by five, and you might get even a taste of how boring this test was. The questions honestly made school seem like fun. Admittedly, it was a wide variety of stuff, but all of it had the excitement of watching paint dry.

Some of the questions had to do with shapes and patterns. Others tested my memory. A few of them wanted to see how well I could do math.

Maybe those afternoons with Annabeth came in handy, after all.

I was honestly starting to wonder if this test was more to see how easily I'd break under boredom or not when I reached the last question. I filled it out and handed the test to Delta, who flipped through it with an unchanging expression.

"Interesting," He muttered after a few minutes. He placed the test in a file labeled PERSEUS J. and walked up to my desk. "Alright, Jackson. Your word is foliage. Your goal is to hold onto the word as long as you can. Good luck."

"Thanks," I replied, biting my tongue. I wanted to ask him what was interesting, but I figured it was a moot point. Delta seems like the kind of guy to want me to ask him something just so he can shut it down.

Delta nodded and vanished from the room. Not even a moment later, a figure entered the room.

Listen, I know what you're thinking. The figure sounds so macabre and kind of non-descriptive, right?

Well, you and I are in the same boat. I couldn't tell you what this thing was. It was vibrating really quickly, so all I could really make out was a black outline, which told me nothing.

"Perseus Jackson," The figure said softly. It was a vaguely feminine voice, but the disembodied quality it carried almost made it sound masculine. "You have been given a word. Please relay this word."

"No."

The figure raised its hands, and I saw arcs of mana burst forward from its fingertips, infusing into the very air itself.

The room suddenly grew very cold. I felt my throat close up in the frigid atmosphere of the room.

Interrogation tactics 101—make the room cold. I must be dealing with a real professional here.

Woohoo. So scary. I'm frightened.

My arms were suddenly pinned to my sides, a brief feeling of heat flashing through my being. The figure walked forward, its hands covered in bright white light.

Okay, a bit scarier.

"The codeword," The figure reminded me, getting closer. "Relay it to me."

I shook my head. My throat felt entirely too dry to even speak. What's the point of making me unable to speak if you're just trying to get a word out of me?

A white-hot pain overtook my entire body. The figure clamped its hand down on my arm, and I heard the hiss as ice exploded outward from where it grabbed me, flash-freezing my entire arm and encasing it in a crystalline substance.

It felt so hot and raw. My arm felt like it was being thrown into a blender with a couple of knives and set to crush.

"There's no penalty to saying the word," I was reminded. "Tell me."

I shook my head, looking the figure in the, well, face area. I still couldn't talk—not that I would.

My face snapped to the left, accompanied by another burning sensation. I gritted my teeth as I saw a trail of steam curl upwards from the spot.

"Tell."

I was punched in the torso this time, my jacket being shredded by the power around the interrogator's hand.

"Me."

The desk was thrown backward.

"Now."

My back smashed into the wall, and I slowly slid down. The figure started walking towards me again.

How much of this is about getting the word? If this was all about wanting the word from me, wouldn't I just have been straight-up tortured? This felt more like a fight than anything.

My fingers slowly curled into a weak fist. Delta had told me to hold onto the word for as long as I could—but he never said I had to just sit there and take it.

Maybe that was the real test: figuring out the true purpose behind it all.

My heart was beating out of my chest as I dodged another blast from the figure.

Okay, Percy. Calm down. Think. Slow your breathing.

Athena said it best: One must not respond immediately to a stimulus; one must acquire a command of the obstructing and isolating instincts.

Let's get to isolating, then.

My arms were still pinned to my sides by some immovable force. My legs, on the other hand, move just fine.

I can hold my own for a bit as I try to work this one out.

I looked up, ignoring the stinging feeling in my cheek that was steadily fading away. The figure got closer to me again, slowly raising its hand.

I stood up, my mind racing. I cracked my neck. I don't know a single thing about my opponent yet. Before I can find its weak spot, I need to learn what it can do.

The first step, then—getting information.

Let's test those reflexes.

The floor underneath my sneakers cracked. I shot forward, speeding through the water at the figure.

It dodged my ax kick easily, and I caught more mana being released into the air in spore-like quantities. My body felt a little heavier. The figure, on the other hand, started moving faster and faster, flashing back and forth between two spots.

"Ugh," I grunted as a punch made contact with me again.

A weak one, then. It may not be a sure thing, but it looks like the faster my opponent moves, the less their hits hurt. Supreme reflexes in return for not-so-supreme strength

I weaved my way around most of the other hits, though.

Suddenly, the flashing sped up to the point where I just saw this gigantic black blur in front of me. It ceased a moment later, and there were two copies of the same shrouded being.

"You moved so fast between those two spots, you left an afterimage," I croaked out, my voice feeling raw. "You have quite a bit of mana at your disposal, then."

That deduction was child's play.

The process was easy enough. The mana-to-power ratio was linear, regardless of who you were. If you used your mana to reinforce your body, the effectiveness was as much—or as little—as you wanted.

Pump in no mana, you won't see any results.

Pump in too much, and you're looking like the Flash.

"My goals are beyond your understanding," I mumbled to myself. "Are you supposed to be the Reverse-Flash?"

No response. What was I expecting? It's like fighting the mysterious bad guy in the movies—they'll only talk after they beat the living crap out of you.

I've still got to feel this one out some more.

All I know so far is that my opponent is augmenting their speed and reflex-timing through mana. If my estimations were correct, based on the speed and duration of the boosting, this person had mana pools double, maybe triple the size of my own.

The only problem? I'm unsure what kind of mana ability this thing has, so I can't rush in blindly or I'll get my ass kicked.

This is just like the Chimera. I'm facing a stronger opponent, with little to no idea of what's going on.

This time, though, I'm not running. You can take that to the bank.

Both copies rushed forward, appearing right in front of me. I ducked under the punch, opting instead to keep my eyes trained on the mana flowing off of my opponent.

What's the point of that? That sort of output can't be good, not even for a highly trained soldier. It's just inefficient battle sense. You'd want to keep your mana and hold onto it for as long as possible.

Unless you're really cocky. Somehow, though, I don't think this is that kind of case. This is a test, to join an elite division of the army. Not some random fight.

There has to be a point.

My kick was deflected by the first figure, and the second tried to pummel me with a piledriver. I flipped backward, the water carrying me through the room with ease.

Both raised their hands. A large, mirror-like substance formed in front of them, stretching to the size of a surfboard.

A summon?

HUMMMMMMMM…

To my surprise, crystals came flying out, whizzing through the air like bullets out of a machine gun.

My arms were pinned- how am I going to play this one? I could explode into an inferno, melting the crystals, but that sort of mana output could screw me over.

I took a deep breath, freezing time. Might as well take my sweet time, seeing as this could determine the output of the entire battle.

Okay, okay, what can I assume?

My opponent has to be running low on mana. If they had a surplus amount, they'd be moving much faster, from the get-go, actually.

The speed they're moving at shows their limit- and the signs of exhaustion setting in betray their endurance.

And now, crystals? This is probably the last, or second-to-last big move they can pull off.

How do I handle this...well, let's see.

The first time the crystals were formed was when the figure forced that light onto my body. I don't know that much about mana, but normally, it's just used to augment things or to fuel powers.

It still follows the rules of science, more or less. Just their mana wouldn't be enough to form a whole new substance.

That just doesn't add up. How did they do that, let alone do this?

There are only two real explanations here. Either the crystals are some sort of summon, or they're a natural transformation.

Alright, let's think about the first one. Hestia only briefly talked about summons, but I got the sense that they were super mana-heavy.

I mean, think about it with me. It kind of makes sense.

You, in theory, have to open a portal through time and space, keep it open, and compel something through the portal, all while keeping your wits about you. It's a hard thing to do once, let alone dozens of times in succession.

Which means…the figure is trying to trick me!

The mirror is what originally made me think it was a summon, but there's no way someone could summon that many things at once- not unless I was facing a truly god-like being.

Classic misdirection.

Hmm…

It can't be a transformation, either.

Even when I use mana to power my fire or water, it isn't creating an entirely new substance. It's sort of like fueling a transformation.

The mana goes in, transforms into fire, and comes out. It's like burning a chemical—the principle of equivalent exchange at its finest.

In theory, I could learn how to harness all of the elements- not because I'm creating them, but rather because I'm providing fuel for the reaction that, in turn, will create them.

Mana can't be used to create entirely new things, in general, but especially not things like crystals. Not unless you were an absolute animal.

Crystals are so complex. They're dense, full of crisscrossing little streams of gas. You have to create so many little things, like the size, and the shine—your focus would need to be out of the human plane of comprehension to do that even once without it blowing up (literally) in your face.

That would take so much mana to do, I'd imagine even my dad might not have enough to keep spamming it like this.

What was I missing?

My time dilation beeped, signaling that it was almost out.

Think, man, think. I need to walk through this again, knowing that it isn't a summon or a transformation.

Okay, from the start.

The arcs of mana, the hiss, the heaviness, the steam.

My eyes widened. The steam! I was such an idiot!

Steam, underwater?

How could there be steam underwater without a thermal reaction…unless…it isn't normal steam at all!

It was chemical steam, not regular steam. This isn't Spongebob, where you can just start a fire underwater.

Unless you're me.

This steam must've been an after-product of sorts—and there's really only one way a chemical reaction could've taken place.

It was the after-product of the combination of my mana with someone else's! It was a sign, plain as day, that someone else was using my power.

That must've been why there was so much in the air—why I felt heavy.

It was all starting to come together.

This figure wasn't forcing mana onto me—it was stealing it. It was all in the steam!

Did that mean these crystals were the same? That the figure had slowly been stealing my mana with every touch, mashing it together with its own?

The time resumed, and the crystals shot toward me.

My mana, huh?

I stared at the crystals unflinchingly. I felt a wave of irrational anger build in my chest, a roaring inferno that was threatening to overtake my entire being.

You want to take what's mine?

The figure laughed, "You tried. Goodbye…"

No…

Give it back.

I roared, expelling mana outwards from my body in a ring. The crystals shattered instantly, in an explosion of blue-red. I saw the mana go flying across the room, swirling back into my body.

The heaviness disappeared from my shoulders. On the other hand, I saw the posture of my opponent get slightly worse.

That's my power. You don't get to keep it.

I looked down at my arms. I can't see any binds, so maybe they're also like crystals? Another burst of mana later, and I could move my arms with ease.

I growled, raising my head. I hate being used. Lied to.

I'm no pawn. I'm not a rook, or a king, or a queen, either. I'm off the damn board.

Flames ran up and down my arms and I channeled some mana into my own body, rushing the figures at the same time.

We engaged in a quick hand-to-hand battle. It wasn't nearly as bad as before—my opponent had put everything they had into that ploy, hoping I wouldn't see through it.

Tough luck.

I deflected a punch, burning a hole through the afterimage on the right. It was dispelled in another explosion of red.

The figure said nothing, attacking even faster. After all of this, it still wanted to let everything hinge on this. It was pitiful, really.

I got caught by a kick, slipping to the ground. Not that it mattered—I heard the figure panting. I let it tire itself out.

This fight was over.

This is why I don't use mana to augment myself for too long- when it leaves your body, you're left a drained mess.

And there's this one moment in time where it's draining out of your body at once, leaving this one point of your body weaker than ever.

And I know that all too well.

— - —

[Nike's Leap]

— - —

I disappeared from my spot on the ground, spinning into existence behind the figure. Rich flames burst to life on my leg, propelling forward through the water at breakneck speeds.

My foot smashed into the figure, the flames angrily biting into its face and pulling it in before my second water-propelled kick snapped its neck.

BOOM!

My opponent was rocked into the wall, small cracks spreading from the impact.

The figure screamed, trying to rush me again.

"Bring it," I snarled, my spear spinning off of my back. The kiddie gloves were off now—I was going to run this bitch through.

"That's enough," Delta appeared back in the room. Another soldier was with him. The soldier snapped his fingers, and the figure I was fighting fell over, paralyzed.

"The test is over," Delta proclaimed, placing a calm, but firm hand on my chest.

The message was clear: Move, and I'll pulverize you.

Despite the situation, Delta looked at me, impressed. "You finished the test with the second-highest score, ever. Welcome to the team."

"Who was the first?"

Dumb question. I knew it the moment I spoke the words.

A smirk formed on Delta's face. "You're looking at him."

[Original Author's Note]

AN: Well, hello! Not much to say here, but we're now officially into the Atlantis arc! The perk is quite mysterious, isn't it? Well, to my anime fans, I specifically chose the term ghoul. That's all I'll say.

I am curious about one thing, though.

I update close to every month or two, with an absolute bomb of a chapter. Would you rather have more frequent updates with shorter chapters, or the same frequency with the same length of chapters? I'm curious.

Also- do you think Percy made the right call? What call would you have made?

grimmouse197: Physical attributes in a broader sense, like his height and weight and puberty. It's my way of fast-tracking his growth.

DebaterMax: I hear you, man. But honestly, that's always been a fault of mine. I rush arcs. This one, though, I've planned out with more care. There will be a ton of action, as we saw, but the world-building is just getting started.

Hoguie: He's still a little arrogant…we'll see what happens with that, though.

XenoLucifer: It was fun to write! I can't have him super smart and logical from the get-go! Where's the fun in that?

SelenetheNerd: Ugh, me too. Thank you, you for the compliment, and what's your favorite god in smite?

SPHKDR: I've been meaning to watch that anime. I just saw KONOSUBA, and I loved it! Isekai is such a fun genre.

Aggrandize: That's a fair point…

Guest: Also, I did change the rating! Better safe than sorry, ya know.

Guest: you're right, honestly. I took that out of the summary, cause I mean, people are always going to hate. I was playing smite the other day and went 11-2 and still had people saying I was trash, so I'm just gonna take the same approach to this story.

See you guys next time!

[Patch Notes]

[01/20/25]: Gave Delta more of a backstory and balanced the storyline choices a bit more. They were always meant to be a bit skewed from Percy's POV, but they felt way, way too skewed in the original. I'm also going to stop indicating grammar changes and stuff. Just assume I do them.