Next to Percy, Thalia lay on an infirmary bed, murmuring incoherently as Chiron attended to her. Her pained moans fueled Percy's frustration. He shot an unpleasant glance at his mentor for not stepping in; but he'd deal with that privately. His gaze turned back to Mr. D, who was emitting a faint purple glow, but looking as unenthused as ever. Percy felt hot rage surge through him as the god leaned casually against the door frame.

"Are you going to say something, Peter?" Mr. D yawned. "Or can I get back to Olympus?"

Percy took a deep breath, searching for the most hurtful words he could find. "You are exactly like your father," he said quietly. "I just didn't realize that he'd raised you to be his little bitch."

Unexpectedly, Mr. D barked out a harsh laugh, his eyes flashing dangerously. His gaze bore into Percy, casting horrifying visions of Thalia being chained beneath the sky. His most painful memories began to play as Mr. D's fire grew, consuming his entire body. Flashbacks from his childhood only inflamed Percy's already teetering emotional control. Gabe Ugliano's ugly walrus face stood suddenly at the forefront of his mind, raising his hands to hit Sally Jackson, and Percy's emotional cauldron finally boiled over.

Red lightning began to crackle along the ceiling of the infirmary. Percy could faintly hear Chiron's desperate pleas for civility, but he could tell the centaur was more concerned for Thalia's safety than his own. That was fine. Percy would never let anything hurt Thalia, much less anything that came from him.

Massive bolts struck out in all directions, lashing out violently at the walls, the beds, and at Mr. D. Inside himself, Percy could feel his organs lap with excitement as the infirmary began to shake violently, a massive crack sounding as a chasm ripped open the floor between Percy and Dionysus.

From the shadows, the incessant calls of the damned beckoned him. For the first time, without any reservations, he called upon them, bringing them to the forefront of his mind. He allowed their screams, their anguish, to meld with his own, his violent lightning expanding, now laced with flickers of black energy as the shadows began to take corporeal form.

He wasn't in his body; he was everywhere, in every corner of the room, in every shadow and flash of lightning. Distantly, he noted Mr. D tense, his eyes wide, alarmed as the light show turned into a raging storm. His purple glow staggered as the red lighting continued to lambast him relentlessly. A few particularly brutal strikes later, and he shrunk back, an ugly wince on his pudgy face.

Good, Percy thought, the words swirling as the shadows echoed the phrase around him. I want him to hurt. I want him to hurt for what he did to her.

His anger grew as the shadows swarmed the room, the numbness in his limbs an addictive fuel that propelled him further, harder. The air vibrated as he augmented his lightning. Mr. D had allowed the Eagle to attack Camp, and as a result, Thalia was unconscious in the bed behind him. A guttural roar escaped Percy as the black fissure in the floor began to ooze. Mr. D's eyes flitted back and forth, shifting nervously as dark blue liquid erupted from the chasm. The liquid coated the walls and the doorframe, splattering onto Mr. D. Percy's smile was dark as the wine god yelped; the blue fluid was cold as ice, burned like it too. Sorrow, grief, and despair hung heavily in the room. Percy huffed out a laugh, barely noting the way his breath clung to the frozen air.

Around him, shadows began to step out from the rumbling walls, bringing the chill of the underworld with them. The dark figures were varied; some tall and slender, with limbs too long for their towering frames. Others were short, stocky and bulbous, seeming to roll across the space as they descended on Mr. D.

The already dim lights of the infirmary flickered wildly. Several light bulbs burst in a spray of glass and sparks as faint, white orbs of light rose from the still oozing cavern in the floor. Their agonized moans rang shrilly through the room as they floated through the air, settling deeply into the shadow homunculi. The beings had no faces, only crude, bright eyes of various shades on their dark faces.

Percy hardly felt the wind whipping at his hair and clothes, brushing off the energy buzzing along his skin as he took in Mr. D's now horrified expression.

From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Chiron carrying Thalia from the infirmary bed. He was moving steadily, but slowly, taking great care to keep the blue liquid off of her limp, unconscious body, even as it hissed where it came into contact with his own hide.

Percy heard himself speak. "Chiron?"

The centaurs head snapped to him, eyes pleading as he nodded toward the literal hell that Percy had raised. He ignored him, his gaze planted firmly on Thalia's exhausted body. His heart twisted at her furrowed brow, at the blood that ran from her injuries.

For a moment, the sight of Thalia's injuries drove his own rage higher, and he found himself wishing that he could march on Olympus as he stood.

The anger he had been clinging to rushed from him with the horrible realization that he had placed her in danger. Guilt gnawed at his heart as shame sliced through him, freezing his hot rage. Thalia began to writhe in Chiron's arms, her unconscious body desperately trying to escape the cold, joyless space he had made.

The shadow homunculi now stood at the edge of the pit, awaiting their orders. Their gazes pierced Percy as the cacophonic vibrations of unsettled souls rattled his mind. He shot one last wicked glare toward Mr. D, the shaking coward, and the dark blue liquid began to recede into the fissure, vanishing as if it never existed.

His arms fell to his sides like blocks of lead, the lighting raging against the walls dimming as exhaustion filled him. The harsh red glow of the room morphed into a soft pink, then vanished altogether as the gargantuan bolts morphed into small, crackling tendrils before petering out.

Taking a deep breath, he waved his hand weakly, and the shadow creatures melted away, slithering into the cavern and joining their brethren in the unseen world.

Percy struggled to keep his eyes open, failing to do so as the newly freed souls descended upon him, their anguished voices now screaming their agony into his mind. With each new voice, a layer of suffocating pressure enveloped him, siphoning from his emotional bank. He dropped to his knees, overcome with the urge to curl up and never move again. Nothing was worth it. Thalia would hate him when she woke up. All the feelings, all the bitterness inside of him, he couldn't quell them. Maybe it would just be better if she never saw him again.

A strong hand gripped his shoulder, breaking him from his spiral. He pried his eyes open, looking up to find Chiron's poignant gaze pinned on him. His eyes were sad as he regarded him, and Percy noticed for the first time how the millennia of his life seemed to be etched onto his features.

"You know what to do," Chiron urged.

Percy nodded, turning to face the darkness once again. He steeled his mind, erecting metal dams against the overwhelming flood of dejection. Slowly, he felt himself float above the waterline of misery as the white, wispy orbs reached out to him. Ignoring their call, he flexed his hand and bent them to his will, their anguished cries quelling to silent but expressive sadness.

He guided them to the fissure in the floor as he willed them to leave. Though the souls protested weakly, they obeyed, like little marionettes, as they filtered down. Some deep part of himself felt them melt back into the river they had come from. He slumped, his energy truly spent, as the last spirit returned to its prison. Percy looked around at the ruins of the infirmary, taking it in for the first time.

Mr. D was nowhere to be found. Black char dotted every inch of the walls, scorch marks from the lightning he had wielded. The previously pristine oak walls were completely marred.

Beds and bottles were overturned all around the room; glass littered the floor, and medicinal liquid pooled in various places. Additional guilt wracked him as he realized the mess he made. His throat tightened, his eyes hot. He averted his eyes as Chiron slowly carried Thalia back to one of the few intact beds.

A flicker of irritation began to fight for dominance in the sea of his emotions, wondering why his outburst was necessary in the first place. All he knew was that he needed to leave before he exploded again. There was nothing he could do for Thalia now anyway. He was just a liability.

Chiron opened his mouth to say something, but Percy cut him off. "If you're going to stand in the middle of the road," he said, trying to fight the bitterness from seeping into his tone. "Then you're going to get hit."

He pushed to his feet, storming from the room before he could hear Chiron's reply. What Mr. D had done wasn't exactly surprising, but it still stung nonetheless. His hatred for campers was an open secret. Considering that he had voted to kill Percy and Thalia on Olympus, that he would allow them to die fighting Prometheus' Eagle seemed par for the course at this point.

It was Chiron's indecision that was shocking. The Old Horse had made his fair share of mistakes, but willingly shared Percy's father's identity, even at grave risk to himself. In that same conversation, he had allowed Percy to go rescue Thalia. His Thalia, even though Percy knew Chiron thought there were wiser courses of action.

He flushed slightly as the words. His Thalia flashed through his mind again. His heart somersaulted at the implication, but he mentally slapped himself for thinking that way. After all, you couldn't really own people, and Thalia would probably kill him if she knew his thoughts. It was just that he needed to make sure she was okay, and the insatiable urge to fix everything consumed him whenever she was around. Even small things, like not fixing her shoelaces when her converse would come untied.

As his heart and his mind warred over his lightning girl, currently unconscious in the infirmary, he found himself at the lake without meaning to be there. He glanced down at the gashes covering his torso and arms, still dripping blood, and winced. The adrenaline was wearing off, his eyes drooping as he grimaced against the new wave of pain that coursed through him.

Stepping in, he took off his shirt. Chiron or some of the Apollo campers would probably be kind enough to help heal him, but there wasn't any reason to, especially after he just trashed their workstation. He caught sight of his abdomen and stopped, puzzled. His gash from the eagle's claws had stopped bleeding. Instead, right where the skin was little more than thin, flayed strips of flesh was a red wall of blood, unmoving and firm.

Closing his eyes, Percy allowed his mind to focus, the water invigorating him as he moved deeper into the water. He shuddered, the contrast of the lake water highlighting a strange, new liquid within himself. It wasn't anything like the Underworld Rivers or the Sea. Both of those felt like home. This felt much more fragile, almost delicate.

Blood roared in his head. He forced himself to relax, repeating a few signs that Thalia had taught him in an attempt to release some of the tight, nervous energy entangled in his body.

The painful tug in his gut from earlier finally dissipated, and as if on cue, blood began pouring from his gash again. Percy jolted with realization.

What he did earlier wasn't natural. He was suddenly aware of his body's fragility. How had he survived fighting immortal beings? He was just a pile of flesh and bones. He'd had various abilities pop up over the years, but this was the first that gave him pause. His mind wandered to potential uses for these new powers, and he bit his lip hard enough to draw blood as he mentally wandered to a dark, uncomfortable place.

Why should you worry? His inner voice prodded. It's not like you can help it. How you use it is far more important. And besides, it did just save your life.

Percy rubbed his temples then submerged himself completely, but not before an acorn bounced off his head. He rolled his eyes, though he was too tired to care about the nymph who threw it. Even after apologizing, they still hadn't forgiven him for accidentally blowing up that sycamore tree with his lightning. At least they hadn't filled his bed with bugs.

Thalia's idea began to weave into his mind as the water invigorated him again. Only one person might have answers, and there was only one way to call upon them.

Wincing, Percy rubbed his side as the skin continued to knit itself together. It wasn't painful, but it itched like crazy as the water boosted healing that should have taken weeks, if not longer.

Riptide thrummed, its strong pulse echoing in the currents. Percy took it out of his pocket as it started vibrating, sending shockwaves throughout the lake. An irresistible urge to uncap it consumed him as he tried to pinpoint the new frequency.

The celestial bronze tugged him through the water as little flickers of energy began to pull him like a vortex. Percy could just make out that the black streak down the center of the blade was now joined by streaks of dark blue, emerald green, ember orange, and a muddy, swampy yellow. The streaks melded together, swirling as one down the center of Riptide. A chorus of voices rang through his head as his sword dragged him toward the bottom of the lake.

Our master has called for you. It is time.

The next inhale of water was tart, and slightly sweet, playing on Percy's tongue as a brilliant vortex opened in the water before him. Kind, watery hands reached up from the bottom of the lake, gently helping him through the portal. Percy was not afraid, and didn't resist as they helped him through. He allowed himself to relax as his vision went dark, relishing in the cool twinge of ice that coated his skin. In his last moment of consciousness, a thought clicked into place in his brain.

The water tasted like pomegranates.

Percy sat up, breathing the muggy air of the Underworld deep into his lungs. His smile quickly morphed into a frown as he took in the room he was in. Massive bronze and black walls surrounded him, with a high ceiling that he had to squint to see.

He was in Hades' palace, but he didn't recognize this room.

"Welcome," Persephone's soothing voice rang from a doorway to the right. Percy scrambled from where he'd been seated on the floor as the goddess came into view. "I believe we have much to discuss. It has been a long time since I have visited here. Oh goodness."

Percy's cheeks burned as she took in his shirtless form. She snapped her fingers. A dark tunic appeared in his hands, and he quickly shrugged it on.

She smiled. "That's better."

Percy bowed quickly, his face pinching in confusion. "Thank you, my lady. And…what do you mean?"

Persephone sighed, a mixture of emotions flitting across her face.

"Come with me," she sighed.

She started off toward a doorway opposite from where she had come through. The door opened into a long, dark hallway. Percy followed, unable to stop himself from looking over his shoulder, just to see if Hades would show up.

The long, bronze hallway slowly darkened, until the walls, ceiling, and floors were covered in black. The carvings on the walls became older and older, Ancient Greek letters slowly losing shape and giving way to indecipherable characters. The entire feel of the Underworld changed, the shadows pooling like liquid across the plushy carpeted floor.

As they moved, Persephone's flowing red and black peplos darkened until the fabric was dark as ink, maroon undertones swishing with the cloth as it moved.

Persephone stopped so suddenly that he bumped into her. She turned her head, a mischievous look on her face. Her elegant, long-fingered hands pointed at a glowing bronze set of symbols glowing against the black stone walls.

"Tell me," she said. "Can you read this?"

Percy squinted, the words swimming into his mind of their own accord. "Wanax Posedao, Shaker of the Earth, Mover of Olympus, Last of the Old Ones."

He uttered the words without thinking, and panic immediately welled up inside of him. Zoe had been clear: never say that name to anyone, let alone a god. He glanced at Persephone, half expecting outrage or anger. Instead, the goddess just looked sad, her expression far off and her eyes misty.

"That's a name I haven't heard in millennia," she said softly. She grimaced, placing her head in her hands and rubbing her temples. "Tell me, does the name Despoina mean anything to you?"

Percy shook his head. While the name was familiar, he wasn't sure what it meant, or who it meant.

"No," he said quietly. "I'm sorry."

Persephone waved him off, though her expression still looked pained.

"It's alright," she said. "Besides living with my mother when I was young, the Underworld is the only thing I can remember."

Percy stilled as the energy in the room shifted, pulsing like a heartbeat.

Persephone's eyes were dark when she spoke again.

"Posedao was my father. These runes have been glowing for weeks now. I heard your prayer…heard you say His name. So I summoned you, both as a member of my royal house and as a favor."

"That makes you my sister," Percy blurted. He wanted to take it back instantly. Persephone wasn't a goddess to be trifled with, and he felt like he was pushing his luck. But he also found it hard to care.

Luckily, Persephone just chuckled. "I'm not sure how you know that, or if it's even true, but if so…"

To his surprise, she pushed up on her toes and threw her arms around him, embracing him warmly. He was enveloped in her soft, comforting scent, and it reminded him vaguely of hugging his mom. He awkwardly wrapped his arms around her, and she squeezed him one more time before stepping back and nodding towards the door.

His mind was still racing, and he had to push himself to focus on what she was saying.

"This place has not been seen in many centuries. It has flickered into existence occasionally, but this the most solid it's been in…a long while." She smiled sadly, pointing toward a locked door a few feet ahead of them.

"I know of the upcoming war and of Zeus' inaction. I believe this could be the key to everything. Open it, and I will teach you all I can about the nature of shadow, and how to wield it."

Percy stepped forward and examined the oddly shaped keyhole. Riptide thrummed again in his pocket, and he pulled it out and uncapped it. The colors along the blade shone brightly in the dim hallway, a rhythm coursing through his mind as the chorus of voices returned.

Use us, they sang. The master awaits.

Tentatively, he placed the point of the blade against the lock. Instantly, the door lit up with the same colors that swirled through Riptide. The door creaked open.

Inside was a simple, large room, teeming with life and energy. Percy stepped through the doorway, pulled in by the thrum of the sea. He noticed little seahorses floating past him, schools of minnows swimming through the air, even an octopus hiding along the doorframe. There was no true water here, but the air was…fluid, somehow. Unrestrained.

Percy laughed, startled, as tiny versions of Cerberus ran past his feet, chasing each other in circles as they barked and played. Their little yips echoed off of the walls of the chamber as several of them wrestled one another.

One of the little dogs stopped what it was doing and sat in front of Percy, two of its three little heads cocking to the side as it regarded him. It jumped up suddenly, its leftmost head grabbing Percy's pant leg and dragging him further into the room while the other two heads barked excitedly, its little tail wagging furiously.

Persephone followed behind him. Her hand hadn't left her forehead since they'd entered the room, and her face was pinched in pain like she had a migraine. Percy winced as the puppies continued to play loudly, but she shot him a reassuring smile, following him deeper into the chamber.

The room itself was rather unremarkable, dust coating every surface, the limestone walls old and worn. Percy marveled at the energy of the room; he felt more at home than he ever had before, this space the perfect union between shadow and sea. They continued back and back until they found themselves rounding a corner and arriving at an old, four post bed.

The little pup leading Percy barked excitedly at the foot of the large bed. Percy frowned, stepping forward to examine it. There was nothing in or on it but dusty sheets, which looked as though they'd gone for centuries without use.

Persephone found a spot against the wall and sat, crossing her ankles as another puppy found itself a place on her lap. She immediately began scratching behind the little things' ears, taking turns with each head, and she had the puppy whimpering happily in no time.

She chuckled, and the space around her brightened. Moss, grass, flowers and an assortment of roses appeared from the ground around her. Within moments, the space around the bed was a little meadow.

Percy's puppy yelped. His tail was once again moving, frantic with excitement, as he tried to scamper up onto the bed. He was too small, and could do little more than get his heads level with the high frame, but he didn't seem deterred.

He laughed at the pups enthusiasm and crouched down to help him along.

Faintly, the soft cough of an elderly man came from the head of the bed. Percy froze, glancing briefly at Persephone before standing to check the previously empty mattress. A noise of surprise sputtered in his throat at the figure in the bed. It was all he could do to keep his mouth closed, squinting at the unmistakable likeness of Poseidon laying in the bed. They were identical in nearly every way, except that his beard was pure white, his face weathered, and dark horns protruded through his curly, graying hair.

The god let out another scratchy cough as Percy saw Persephone stand from the corner of his eye. His throat tightened as the goddess froze, silent tears instantly streaming down her face. It took another moment for her mind to catch up, realization dawning across her features as she held her little dog closely against her.

"F-Father," she said quietly. Her hands shook as she set her puppy on the floor. "I'm- I'm sorry. I could not remember you."

With Persephone's words, the inscription on the door came rushing back into Percy's mind in full force.

Posedao's lips turned up, crinkling his weathered face. "It is alright, my daughter. The fault is all mine. There are powers at work here that I was too foolish to see. Now come here."

Stiffly, Persephone moved closer to the bed, next to where Percy stood. She reached out to hold his hand, but it simply passed through him, as though he were an illusion.

Posedao laughed weakly as he gestured towards Percy. "It is because of my son that I am even here at all. I fear this will be the last time I will wake."

"No," Persephone pleaded, her hands balling the sheets beneath his hand. "I just remembered. I can't allow myself to forget again."

Her father simply held his hands to her face, caressing her jaw tenderly. While they had no form, Percy could feel the warmth of his form from where he stood. His heart swelled with pride at the decrepit man calling him his son. Even Poseidon, one of the better Olympians, did not possess the same warmth.

"Do not weep, my daughter. There is much for you to learn." He coughed weakly, and golden streams of ichor dribbled down his chin. Persephone blinked back tears. "Even the gods are not eternal; you embody this far more than anyone else, residing in different palaces at different times of the year."

Posedao smiled weakly, lost in his memories. "My first wife, Damate, left after the Fall. She does not remember who she was. Oh, how I loved her so. I simply wish she does not lose her way." His eyes twinkled as he looked at Percy, who's mind had begun to race. The name sounded familiar, but the identity of the goddess escaped him.

"Only the most foolish of gods think of themselves as eternal," Posedao said, his attention fully on Percy now. "It is the natural order of things, and I was foolish with my brother."

"You mean Zeus?" Percy asked. He was having a hard time comprehending all of this. The gods were supposed to be immortal and unchangeable; yet here his father was, seemingly happy with his impending death.

Posedao nodded. "Yes, I do. You have met my grandfather, Ouranos."

Memories of Ouranos' cryptic words tore through his mind, taunting him as he recalled the hours he'd spent pouring over them. Percy nodded.

The old god chuckled. "Yes, he told me you had met. He was surprised by you, son. He didn't know I could still get it on in my old age."

"Dad!" Percy's face heated, both at the implication and at how easy it was to claim this being as his father. Persephone choked on a laugh. "I thought you said you weren't awake for centuries?"

Posedao smiled. "That is true. And if I'm being honest, I do not know what happened, but all the pain I have suffered was well worth seeing my children once more. I suspect the Fates have called you forth to atone for my mistakes." He placed a wispy hand on Percy's arm. "I am sorry, my son, that you must atone for my failures."

Percy blinked back, tears threatening to form in his eyes. "What happened?"

Posedao sighed, and two chairs manifested beside the bed. Taking the cue, Persephone and Percy sat. Each of the little Cerberus puppies climbed into their laps, and were quickly snoring as their respective favorites gave them pets. Percy scratched absentmindedly behind three sets of ears as his father began to speak.

"Gods are complicated, and no one really knows, save Chaos, but we are embodiments of nature, of our element," he began. He gestured over to Persephone, and she nodded in confirmation. "I was the Wanax, the King of Olympus. In the old days, the kingship was bestowed by whoever's patron nation was the world superpower. The gates of Mycenae were unchallenged, and no equal existed among them."

His eyes darkened. "But I was foolish and far too trusting. In my haste to not repeat the mistakes of my Father, Kronos, I allowed Zeus to scheme. I did not wish to harm my siblings, who shared the horrid fate of our father. Zeus' patron nation, the Hittites, began to grow strong, and in my cowardice, I allowed them to torment my own people. I feared an unnecessary loss of life, domestic or foreign."

He was silent for a moment. A single tear ran down his weathered face. "Because of my inaction, my people lost faith in me, and by the time I brought the storms to ensure their victory at Troy, Zeus had turned the hearts of the people, raising a hero in my own country against our agreement. Because I was weak, I allowed my friends to die on behalf of strangers."

His piercing gaze cut through Percy, and a roil of emotions stormed through him with that look. "The world is cruel; whether it comes from the gods or the mortals, the result is the same. All you can do is protect those around you. Mercy is a luxury for those who have nothing to lose. My sins are mine alone, but learn from me; do not allow love for an enemy to allow the enemy to kill your love."

Percy's heart flipped as thoughts of Thalia flooded his mind. His love. The term felt like it had been crafted specifically for her. Pink crept into his cheeks as he thought of Thalia in his hoodie. He never said anything because he didn't want to make her shy, but he knew that she'd swap out and steal more hoodies whenever she felt like it. He didn't mind, though; it was a sight that he'd never tire of.

Thoughts of running his hands up her body made him swallow uncomfortably. He shifted to get comfortable, his blood now rerouting from his brain. What if, when she stretched in the mornings, he placed his hands on her slender stomach and kept them there, slowly riding them up as she whimpered beneath his touch, moaning his name softly…

Persephone cleared her throat as Posedao stared at him intently. Blushing, Percy averted his eyes. "Uh, sorry," he said. "I didn't hear you."

His father just laughed, though he gave Percy a knowing look.

"It's alright, it wasn't that important. I also find that thinking about my love is far more enjoyable than nearly everything else in the world." He winked at Percy. "The only other thing, of course, is doing things with her that warrant the title."

"DAD!" Percy hid his face as Persephone laughed.

"Hades and I have definitely had fun in our millennia," she mused. "Although we have had our rough patches, like everybody else."

Percy groaned audibly and the two gods burst out laughing. Persephone dropped her hand to the bed, and Posedao let his spirit-like hand rest over hers. Fatherly affection swam in his eyes as he looked at her.

Slowly, his smile dropped, his intense gaze finding Percy once again. The old god began to flicker as another coughing fit racked him. Persephone stood, tears once again streaking her face as he rasped.

"My son, I love you dearly, and I wish I could watch you grow old." His voice was weak and shaky. "But it is time for me to go. Zeus has lost his way. The Ancient Laws I instituted were only meant so Gods did not interfere with their children, most of whom were kings and princes of great nations. The loss of life was far too great, and I foolishly thought Zeus would uphold his end of the bargain."

He coughed again, vicious tremors shaking his body. Giving a weak smile, he continued. "You are my legacy and a hero. Whether you like it or not, the life of a hero will end with blood-stained hands. It all depends on whether the blood is of your enemies or of your friends."

Despite his flickering, his eyes burned brightly as he held Percy's gaze. The pup in his lap stirred, three tongues licking his hands like he was urging him to pay attention.

"Trust my successors. Both of them." Posedao urged. "My essence was split in two to prevent me from ever gaining consciousness again. Hades and Poseidon will see reason. Save your friends and choose well."

He turned towards Persephone, the same fire burning in his eyes even as his voice softened. "My daughter, please guide my son, my heir. He has abilities that he can only dream of and has only begun to access. I awoke as he summoned my servants, the Five Rivers. His destiny is great and terrible. Please ensure the blood that will stain him will not be his own."

Persephone nodded, her stoic facade breaking as tears dripped down her cheeks.

"I love you, dad," she said. "Thank you for coming to see me one last time."

Posedao brushed his wispy hand against her cheek. "Do not fret, my daughter. One day, though I hope it will be many, many centuries, we shall be united in the belly of Chaos. Death is preferable to the prison of Tartarus. The fading of the vanquished can be honorable. Should, Chaos forbid, Zeus prevail, invoke the ancient rite. We shall meet again one day."

The fire in his gaze suddenly went out as he began to flicker again, his skin nearly translucent. "I love you, my children. Please allow an old god his indulgences, one final embrace."

Percy rose from his chair as he and Persephone leaned over the bed. There was nothing to embrace, his skin little more than a wispy mist, but he squeezed his fathers hand as his sister lay her head on his chest. A look of contentment spread across his tired face. With one final glance at his children, he closed his eyes.

The pups on the floor began to howl, a sad, low sound as the last remnants wisped away. Percy sat back, struck with emotion as Persephone's tears landed on the sheets where their father had just been.

The bed of the Old One was now empty.

Five wisps: dark blue, emerald green, ember orange, muddy swampy yellow, and black came from the now empty bed. They floated in the air, lighting the sorrowful, dank room.

Surrounding Percy, they circled tighter before slowly fading into his skin in the same order they appeared. With each, Percy felt a well of power flood through him, bubbling beneath his skin before sealing themselves behind a glass wall he knew he could never break. He flexed his scarred fingers as Thalia consumed him once more. His mind was made up in that moment.

His life had been painful, full of blood and punishment. He'd seen monsters and friends alike die, by each other's hands and at the hands of indifferent gods. His gaze hardened as his eyes traced the jagged black scars that ran up his arms. He would ensure his friends survived; he'd keep Thalia safe. The only ones to die would be monsters, in all their forms.

My heir. Posedao's ragged voice echoed in his mind, just as Ouranos had. Then it dissipated, and Percy knew that Posedao was finally gone.

The black shoreline of the Styx glittered before him, Achilles marking the banks. His face was weathered, but his frame was still youthful and strong. He was in prime fighting condition, save an arrow piercing his heel. He passed a viscous gaze over Percy, and the little dog, whom Percy had decided to call Spot, cowered behind his legs.

Percy stood unflinching. The yellow water of the Styx was littered with debris. Percy would've guessed that the water was originally a clear blue. Now, discarded hopes and dreams polluted it, and putrid yellow smoke evaporated from the shores. It cast an eerie shadow around the ghastly Achilles, standing between him and the river. Persephone stood behind, watching with interest.

"I need to bathe in the Styx," Percy said, meeting Achilles' glare with one of his own. "It's the only way."

"You are a fool," Achilles spat. "The river will burn away everything you are. Friend and foe become one and the same; eventually, the bloodlust will consume you. My death was the greatest blessing I had ever received."

Percy uncapped Riptide, the singular black streak once again lining the center of the shimmering bronze blade. He readied himself into a fighting stance, baring it to Achilles and speaking sharply.

"You don't understand. I've got people I need to protect, and even the combined might of the gods may not succeed."

"Then you are on a fool's errand," Achilles snarled. "The curse will make your skin iron, but it will turn your heart to stone. You will lose all you have ever loved. It is carved on the banks."

Achilles stepped aside, allowing Percy to pass. "If you do not believe me, then read it for yourself. The River demands a price, and death is preferable to it." Percy could've sworn Achilles' eyes swam with tears as he spoke the next words with uncharacteristic softness. "My beloved Patroclus was taken from me because I trusted in the River. Do not allow the same fate to come upon your love."

He nodded once before vanishing, allowing Percy access to the river. Persephone was still behind him, and she was frowning deeply. He turned back to the water, frustration raging within him.

It had been over a month since he had seen the sky and sun, but the progress of mastering his abilities, namely shadow travel, prevented him from returning from the surface. If he returned, he'd be killed immediately. The only safe method of travel would be through the shadows directly to his cabin; otherwise Zeus would know of his whereabouts. At least, that's what his sister and brother-in-law had reported.

His heart screamed, tearing itself apart over the fact that he couldn't see her. He knew there was nothing he could do, but he hadn't even said goodbye. He hadn't gotten the chance to call her a badass for killing the Eagle, a sin in its own right. Every attempt to IM her was met with the blinking blue mist of a dropped call.

He had vanished without a trace. He figured she must be at least a little mad. But if he bathed in the river, he'd be practically invincible, and that was what he needed to do, right? He needed to avenge his father, he needed to protect her.

A firm hand clasped his shoulder, and he glanced back to see Persephone's concerned face. "It's okay," she said. "But please don't go through with this. You step away from the river, and I'll pull some strings to get you back into Camp. Deal?"

Percy took a deep breath, the filthy water of the Styx calling him. He needed to dive in, no matter what. But as he took a step, his legs froze, unable to fight whatever invisible force was hindering him. Thalia's angelic laugh filled his ears. Images of her hand intertwined with his brought butterflies to his stomach. Unconsciously, he twitched his hands, suddenly feeling empty without its companion to hold.

Persephone, as if she were psychic, leaned down in his ear. "The river would make you sacrifice it all. What is a king without his queen?"

Shaking, Percy stepped away from the river, allowing Persephone's calming words to guide him away from the water.

He couldn't give her up, no matter what. His heart longed for her, and there was nothing off-limits in his quest to get her back. He just needed to see her, to make things right. Hopefully, she could forgive him for his little outburst that had made it unsafe for him to return to Camp. He didn't want power, but if it was with her, he'd be willing to take a few risks…

"Fine," he said, trying to keep his frustration out of his voice. "I just, I don't know what to do. I need to see her and make sure she's okay."

"She will be okay," Persephone said, grasping his arm as she led him back to the palace. "You'd just be placing her in more danger by going back right now. Besides, I think you're pretty close to mastering shadow travel, and then you'll have free reign. So long as you aren't seen." Her eyes turned misty as she gave Percy a quick hug. "And I'm sure Dad wouldn't want you to wear yourself out. Don't try to grow up too fast."

Percy brushed her away, but his quip died as a lump formed in his throat, so he just nodded instead. That's right. That's why he was training like a madman. So he could create a better world with his love and have the ability to protect her. He couldn't permit himself to become a danger to her by dipping himself in the Styx. Without her, he was floating without purpose, a side of himself slowly slipping through his fingers. This feeling she gave him was a luxury, but he craved it with all of his being.

"Then let's go," Persephone said. "I'm sorry we can't bring her here. Children not of the Underworld would slowly lose their minds."

"I know," Percy grumbled. The knowledge didn't ease their separation in the slightest. Preemptively, he already dreaded the goodbye that was to come. He couldn't stay at camp for long. But he could relish in the fact that he was about to see her again. And soon.

AN: Hey ya'll! Sorry I missed last week. This week was hectic. For those who you who don't know, Political Science Students often need to use a programming language called R, and it...sucks. I'm definitely a writer, not a coder. Plus, my lovely wife was working on a special project of her own so I had no one who could beta this chapter. I hope this makes up for it! As always, comments, reviews, and feedback are always appreciated. Special yap sessions as well. Now, time for Review Responses.

anaklusosdude16: A good choice. Dangerous is a bop.

Ginocide02: I feel that. Ruthlessness and No Longer You are both top 5 imo. #1 for me is Thunder Bringer, but that's mostly because I'm a bass so I can match his voice PERFECTLY.