Chapter 4: Hindrance
The echoes of footsteps rang throughout the entirety of the dimly lit expanse; the rhythmic cadence of practiced footwork was the only audible presence. Not a word was spoken, nor a hint of casual banter filling the air, for the scene was one of singular purpose: battle and battle alone. Within the shadowed grandeur of the Underworld's Arena, an illustrious spectacle began its first melody. A formidable waltz of melee, a display of combat prowess that ascended beyond what any bystander could find possible.
As the combatants moved with remarkable grace and precision, the very air seemed to quiver with anticipation. The sounds of the ethereal winds whispered through the colossal structure, adding an eerie backdrop to the impending showdown. Without warning, a figure came to a sudden, sliding halt at the center of the stadium. With this striking declaration, the warriors paused, their guards momentarily lowered, and they took calm, measured breaths as if collectively embracing a fleeting moment of serenity before the impending storm of battle resumed.
At the heart of this colossal colosseum stood Perseus; his heterochromatic eyes blazed with unyielding resolve, their swirling reflections of the void shining with endless insight as he began strategizing his following motions. With every breath, his shoulders rose and fell like the relentless tides, and his hands alternated between opening and clenching into fists, a testimony to the honed strength and agility that he had worked for.
Opposite him were two formidable opponents, Tartarus and Erebus, both ancient and powerful beings in their own right. The two adversaries were the present contenders in their combative match, a contest of extraordinary proportions. It had been a few centuries since Perseus had first visited the Land of Punishment - since he had called upon Tartarus's ergonomic teachings. From the very beginning - his introduction into the sport - he had realized the vast difference in power between himself and his siblings.
Yet, despite this incredulous discrepancy, it became evident that Perseus had one talent that deemed him appropriate to face two adversaries of immense strength simultaneously. His speed.
Perseus's physical strength was reasonably minimal; his existence was a mere blip in the timeline, a modest six epochs ago. Tartarus believed that, given time and unwavering determination, his youngest brother could potentially match him in sheer power. The young Protogenos simply was too weak in his current state. Regardless, Perseus's unparalleled speed that defied logic made him an entirely different force on the battlefield. It was nothing short of outlandish, even unfair, rendering some of Tartarus's guidance seemingly obsolete. In the presence of such speed, the very concept of exerting effort into a defense seemed futile, for Perseus had no intention of allowing himself to be struck by his opponents' blows.
The young prince closed his eyes slowly, breathing out once more to steady himself. His body twitched, a slight shake that put Tartarus and Erebus back on edge.
In the blink of an eye, Perseus vanished; only traces of his ghostly afterimage and the faint imprints of his footprints were evidence of his prior presence. He reappeared with breathtaking rapidity behind Erebus, seamlessly transitioning into his offensive maneuver. He twisted his leg to command an intimidating force before swiping out the god's feet from under him. Erebus quickly retorted with his own acrobatic ability, flipping gracefully onto his fingertips to prevent himself from being knocked down. However, Perseus was far from finished.
Without a moment's notice, Perseus was back on top of Erebus, exchanging movements of precision that caused the air to hiss. Perseus deftly slipped under a crescent kick, and as he fell back on his forearms, he vaulted himself over Erebus, striking him swiftly on the back of his neck, sending him sprawling to the ground in pain and frustration.
Erebus grunted, annoyed at the boy's speed and agility as he held his neck in dull pain. From the onyx shadows, Tartarus stumbled into the fray, bolstering Erebus in their united efforts to quell the unrelenting speedster. Perseus, now contending with both of his formidable brothers, shifted into a more defensive stance, an unwavering grin on his face as his body heated up, intensifying the impact of his movements.
As the battle raged on, Perseus's celestial energy ignited, casting luminous trails of light with each graceful maneuver. He continued to parry, dodge, flip, and evade, his body a blur as he maneuvered around his colossal adversaries - landing blows on them, exploiting openings that his incredible speed afforded. This journey, cultivated by his uncanny swiftness, was leading him to a place of transformation. In the midst of the void's oppressive silence, he was defying the odds, proving that excessive speed and refinement could show triumph over sheer strength.
However, the relentless power of Tartarus, the eternal punisher, was about to reach a cataclysmic crescendo. With a roar that shook the very foundations of the Arena, he unleashed the full fury of his domain. Green Greek fire, an inferno of chaotic energy, enveloped his massive fists, their flames roaring with a deafening intensity. Perseus found himself caught in the crux of this seething inferno. The godling was sent hurtling through the arena, his small figure colliding with the unyielding walls of obsidian. The impact left him gasping for precious air as his chest burned with the fiery blaze, and the winds were forcibly expelled from his body.
The young Protogenos lay prone on the unforgiving stone floor, his form writhing in pain as the relentless flames continued to consume him. Coughing desperately, golden ichor flew from his mouth as his eyes caught the edge of his fingers, slowly fading into a translucent hue. It was only then did he realize that his entire being was flickering, his physical form teetering on the edge of existence. He was fading. Dying.
Erebus, who had been a silent yet enigmatic participator in the battle, could no longer remain passive. With a voice that echoed through the realm, he bellowed at Tartarus, condemning his ferocious onslaught as he approached his older brother. "What in Mother's name—HAVE YOU DONE!"
But as the aftermath of Tartarus's fury played out before their eyes, a glimmer of hope emerged. Perseus, though nearly incapacitated, bore a resolute spirit. With immense effort, he raised his trembling hand to his chest, fingers alight with celestial currents. As his hand made contact with his searing chest, a sudden surge of energy rippled through him. The vibrant currents acted as a salve against the flames, quelling their ferocity, and Perseus's once-faltering form slowly began to regain its composure.
The godling's chest still radiated with the remnants of the Greek fire, but his indomitable spirit and valor proved unwavering. Gathering his strength, Perseus summoned the winds that resided within him, and with a determined breath, he inhaled deeply. Gritting his teeth, he groaned, aching, gathering his will. In a birth of cosmic winds, he exhaled forcefully, a gale that billowed forth with unyielding force. The winds surged, rushing into his being and replenishing the stolen breath. The gasp for air became a resounding cry of defiance, a testament to Perseus's relentless determination to rise again.
Amidst the fading embers of green Greek fire and the roars of the zephyr, Perseus stirred. Though battered and scorched, his resilience shone with an otherworldly radiance. The battle had reached a critical juncture, where even in the face of devastation, Perseus's essence churned with steady purpose - almost a rage - promising to continue the fight within the colosseum. The godling growled, the black hole in his right eye pulsating with an intense seethe as if it were a maelstrom that devoured their strength. Shaking, he wiped the ichor that painted his chin, pointing his crooked clawed finger at his brothers.
"No. I will show you." Perseus's blazing perseverance through immortal death, rising from the flames and the throes of battle, left Tartarus and Erebus in stunned silence. They had underestimated the ambition of the young Protogenos, who now stood before them, divine form searing with what could only be described as a torrid bloodlust.
Something had changed.
Despite his near resurrection, Perseus re-engaged in the brawl without thought. He parried the colossal blows of Tartarus with a new, refined ease, danced around the Protogenos's onslaught with evasive movements, and executed flips that defied the very laws of physics. In the midst of the fray, Perseus vaulted into the air, Tartarus's chest acting as a foothold for the young boy's harmony. The godling soared like a meteor, and in that moment, he conjured an extraordinary weapon—a short dagger crafted from an entire star.
Coils and rings of both light and fire mixed into a vortex at his very fingertips. Its surface crackled with heat as its warmth emulated against the countless stars in his left eye. This star-forged blade dispersed blinding solar energy, its brilliance illuminating the shadows casting dazzling rays that pierced through the eternal darkness. The overwhelming luster of this weapon left Erebus momentarily blinded, struggling to shield his shadowy visage from the divine brilliance.
Perseus, with maniacal precision, hurled the sunlike dagger towards Erebus. As if it were a comet, the blade streaked through the blackness with unparalleled luminosity, shrieking a hissing scream before embedding itself into Erebus's shoulder with a resounding impact. Erebus let out a guttural howl of anguish as the knife lodged itself in his murky form. The overwhelming solar energy sizzled through the shadows, rendering him temporarily incapacitated: he was pinned to the Arena's obsidian walls, writhing in agony as the weapon bounded him to his defeat.
In the wake of this blinding and spectacular display of combat, Perseus stood triumphant. He felt a sense of exhilaration coursing through him; the structure around him seemed to warp and shudder, echoing his victory. From the corner of the stadium, Tartarus watched in awe and, perhaps, a hint of pride as his young brother had evolved into an unstoppable force - dominating over his adversaries in the very heart of the Pit.
However, even in his moment of glory, Perseus was not completely aware - he had dropped his guard. He was intoxicated with the euphoria of his supremacy, the power he had tapped into, and the joy from the success of his second creation ever. It was in this state of elation that a subtle shift in the stadium's shadows caught the corner of his eye. The Protogenos of the Abyss was not someone you should turn your back on. Tartarus moved with a hurtling momentum, his immense figure shifting almost imperceptibly as he manifested from the steaming shadows.
In a mere whisper of time, Tartarus, the eternal punisher, was upon Perseus. With a swiftness that rivaled his young brother's, he executed a rigorous, calculated strike behind the boy's neck, finding the one vulnerable spot in the wake of Perseus's celebratory moment.
The impact was quick; some might even say soft, as Perseus's pressure point was expertly targeted. Perseus's body went slack as consciousness fled from him, his physical form slumping forward and his once-blazing eyes dulled. "Goodnight, Baby Percy."
"That was not honorable whatsoever, Tartarus," Perseus whined, his voice tinged with a note of petulance. The wind swept through the meadows, gently lifting the inky bangs that had been obscuring the bridge of his nose.
With his arms outstretched, he teetered back and forth as they walked, a carefree display of his restless energy as he strolled through the picturesque plains alongside his two brothers. His castle loomed in the distance, its towering spires casting long shadows over the sprawling landscape. A sly smirk danced on Tartarus's lips; his ruby eyes held a playful yet meaningful glint, "Victory is only victory when all of your enemies are defeated."
Perseus shot him a sidelong glance, his eyes narrowing with playful indignation. "Besides," Tartarus continued, his voice taking on a more serious tone, "You used divine power in physical combat, which I have strictly forbidden."
"That was spectacular, was it not?!" Perseus replied, his excitement bubbling up again. He looked somewhat bemused as if even he could hardly fathom the extent of his own abilities. "Even I hardly understood myself what I was doing."
Erebus winced as he held his shoulder, "Do not even begin to remind me," he muttered, his words weighed down by a wraith of an ache.
Giggling, Perseus was quick to find the bright side of things; dropping down to his knees, his nimble fingers traced through the long strands of grass. He gathered a few in his hand and began playing with them, twisting them into delicate spirals like threads of destiny itself. His lips brushed the edge of his mouth as he spoke. "Plus, Brother Tartarus, Sister Ananke told me I should be using my full potential in battle."
The Protogenos of the Underworld raised an eyebrow, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. "Yes, well, Ananke is no fighter, now is she? She would not know the difference between a warrior and Chronos!"
Tartarus's jest sent Perseus into peals of laughter, his joyful sound echoing through the meadows and earning a few chuckles from Erebus, who couldn't help but be drawn into the mirthful moment. As the sun began its descent towards the horizon, casting a warm, golden hue over the lush lands, Perseus couldn't help but feel a sense of melancholy settling in. The peacefulness of the scene contrasted with the turmoil in his thoughts. The brothers continued their walk, the distant rumble of the castle and the sounds of nature forming the backdrop to their conversation.
Still fiddling with the strands of grass, Perseus finally broke the silence. "It was strange," he began, his voice taking on a more contemplative tone, "for a moment, I had this sensation."
Tartarus and Erebus exchanged curious glances, their curiosity piqued by Perseus's words. "What kind of sensation?" Eerebus inquired.
The young prince furrowed his brow as if trying to recapture the elusive feeling. "It was like... a taste of ending. It's difficult to explain. But for that brief moment, I felt like I had glimpsed something beyond our immortal lives, something... final."
His words hung in the air like an unfinished melody, a note of uncertainty in a world typically dominated by divine assurance. The stars slowly began to poke through the auric shades in the sky. Silence enveloped the trio, lingering like a heavy shroud, each of them lost in their own thoughts. It was Perseus who, driven by an unquenchable curiosity, ultimately rent the veil of quietude. He turned his gaze toward Erebus and Tartarus once more, the sparks of his otherworldly eyes reflecting the profound queries that churned within him. "Why did my body flicker during that battle?"
Tartarus cocked his head to the side, the questions blinking to life in his mind as well. "Your body flickered?" he asked, his voice laced with intrigue.
"Like, invisible?" Erebus chimed in, his tone tinged with curiosity.
Perseus nodded earnestly, a frown creasing his brow as he sought to convey the peculiarity of the experience. "Yes, yes. Like invisible. I was there one moment, and in the next, I simply was not."
Tartarus and Erebus exchanged a knowing look, their shared understanding giving them the confidence to unravel the enigma for their younger sibling. Tartarus, his voice marked by a measured, reassuring quality, began to provide the explanation. "The flickering, dear brother, is a consequence of an assault on your consciousness."
"Yes, it appears that your imbecile of a teacher must have unknowingly struck you with such force that it caused not just harm on your physical state but also imperiled the essence of your being—your existence," Erebus added.
With a hint of offense in his voice, Tartarus replied, "I did apologize to him afterward, did I not?"
Erebus shook his head in mild exasperation. "No, brother, you most certainly did not." The banter between the two was not a rare moment of levity in the midst of their solemn discussion, but it couldn't mask the gravity of the questions that Perseus's flickering body had raised.
The sun finally settled behind the horizon, its last crimson rays enveloped by the indigo shroud of the approaching night. Perseus couldn't help but find solace in the natural world's timeless, cosmic dance. He wore a faint smile on his lips as he observed this ballet between the sun and moon, an ever-revolving performance that had fascinated him since time immemorial.
His smile faded as he returned to the profound question that had been haunting his thoughts. "Then are we truly immortal? If the essence of my existence is wiped out, will I cease to be present?" Perseus concluded his train of thought with a note of nervous uncertainty.
Tartarus, sensing the gravity of the moment, sighed and sat down as if preparing for a complex and lengthy explanation. He patted the ground beside him, signaling for Perseus to join him. "Our mother once explained that our physical bodies are but vessels," he began, "these physical forms, which grow and change, are a manifestation of our divine will."
The Protogenos of the Abyss gestured towards Perseus, the motion emphasizing his point. "You grow and change because you learn– because your will shapes these physical transformations. It's the reason you still appear as a child; you are a child in the truest sense of the word."
"A very powerful and scary child, I might add," Erebus interjected, leaning against a nearby boulder, "You already fight as if you were the Protogenoi of Combat."
Perseus chuckled, raising his hands to grasp the semblance of his appearance. Tartarus continued his explanation, addressing the core of Perseus's question. "Even if our physical bodies wither and perish, our consciousness endures. If, like in your battle, the flickering continues and escalates to a fade, our consciousness falls into a profound slumber that spans millennia."
"But we do not end?" Perseus asked, his gaze was earnest as he sought further clarification.
Tartarus shook his head, his tone assuring. "No, even in that state of nothingness, we persist. Eventually, we awaken once more, an eternal cycle of existence." The comforting certainty in his words seemed to ease the lingering doubts that had weighed on Perseus's mind, reminding him of the enduring nature of their divinity.
However, almost immediately as he absorbed Tartarus's explanation, Perseus felt the weight of their immortal existence bearing down on him. He began to contemplate the implications of their eternal lives, of the ceaseless cycle of rebirth and the slumber of consciousness. A thoughtful grimace creased his face as he considered it all, his stare drifting up to the heavens. After a prolonged moment of introspection, he finally spoke, his voice laced with a blend of frustration and resignation. "I think that is all rather... dull." His words were contemplative, and his tone parallel to the havoc within him.
"What?" Erebus couldn't help but inquire, unable to understand the reason why Perseus had come to such a conclusion.
Perseus continued, his eyes now fixated on the darkening night sky - his orbs reflecting the sight - which was punctuated by countless stars. "Even the stars, forged from the works of Chaos herself, eventually burn away. But I find beauty in all of that. Its transient nature makes it all the more precious. It's a reminder that life is fleeting, that moments are precious, and that we should savor every season of it."
He paused, his voice softer now, filled with a profound sense of longing. "Perhaps that's why I cherish each rise and fall of the Sun as much as I do. It's a glimpse into the natural order of things, a reminder of the ephemerality of existence. Our true immortality, as comforting as it may be, sometimes dilutes the experience of life, the beauty of it."
As Perseus's words hung in the air, a palpable sense of isolation seemed to settle around him, even among his immortal brothers. He offered a final, contemplative thought. "There's no need to protect something that doesn't need it."
Erebus, attempting a rare moment of humor, quipped, "Careful, Percy, your brother Tartarus might not have understood all those big words." His taunt, however, found no reaction from Tartarus, who remained solemn.
Tartarus sighed again, grappling with the existential questions that Perseus had raised. Eventually, he stood up and hoisted Perseus onto his shoulders, a symbol of support and fraternity. "Then, little brother," he suggested, "when you receive your principles, your domains, why don't you create beings of your own who share in this purpose? Mortals or immortals not bound by true divinity, beings who can appreciate the beauty of creation as you do."
Nodding in agreement, a thoughtful contemplation etched across Erebus's features. "Yes, Perseus," he acknowledged, "it's an idea worth considering. You should share it with Chaos. She might find your perspective intriguing, and it may affect the domains she gifts you."
Perseus's eyes gleamed with anticipation at the prospect of presenting his idea to the Goddess of Creation. A surge of excitement coursed through him as he hurtled himself out of the Abyss's grasp. Before anyone could react, he harnessed his divine powers, vanishing from his current location with a brilliant flash of ethereal light.
As Perseus's departure left a sense of camaraderie behind, Tartarus sighed with a tinge of discomposure. "Well, there he goes, off on another adventure."
Erebus added with a hint of amusement, "That one can never sit still, can he?"
Tartarus, rolling his eyes at the conversation, couldn't resist making a playful remark. "Perhaps we should name it - the way his attention always scatters. We'll call it 'The Annoying Deity's Happy Dance,' or simply ADHD for short."
"Oh, my Chaos," Erebus grumbled.
As Perseus's laughter echoed through the black skies, the beam of light brought him from his brothers' presence to find himself standing in the opulent chambers of Chaos, the very center of her celestial castle. Her realm was a polished and enchanted splendor, its architecture transcending mortal comprehension. Taking in his surroundings, Perseus noticed a figure, bright and royal, walking out of the grand gates of Chaos's abode. It was the Protogenos of Creation and Light, Phanes. His luminous presence glowed with an awe-inspiring energy.
Phanes paused in his graceful stride, his penetrating gaze locking onto Perseus. With a warm and enigmatic smile that seemed to contain the secrets of existence, he extended his arms in a welcoming gesture. "Greetings, Percy!" he exclaimed, beckoning the godling closer. "It has been centuries, my beloved brother."
In an instant, Perseus dashed toward Phanes, launching himself into the deity's arms with unbridled delight. "Brother Phanes!" he shouted, the reunion filling him with elation.
Phanes held Perseus in a warm embrace, their bond stronger than the ages that had separated them. "It has been too long," he admitted, his eyes radiating a blend of affection and curiosity. "How has your training with Tartarus been?"
Unable to suppress a rueful grin as he responded, Perseus's youthful exuberance shined through. "Di Immortales! Phanes, you cannot fathom the grueling nature of it. Imagine enduring Brother Tartarus's bellowing voice and endless demands for more than fleeting flashes in time."
Phanes snorted with laughter, imagining the trials and tribulations of training under Tartarus's tutelage. "I must admit, you have bested me there."
Perseus nodded in agreement, a jubilant spirit that was almost never dampened - he softly fell out of his brother's hold. "And where have you been, Phanes? I didn't see you at Ouranos's domain ceremony. Were you occupied creating something magnificent?"
Glancing around cautiously, Phanes laid his index finger pressed to his lips to signal silence to Perseus. Drawing the young prince close, he whispered, "It's a secret, Perseus, one you mustn't share with anyone."
With his astral eyes widening with eager curiosity, Perseus's intrigue piqued. He placed both of his small hands over his mouth, displaying his willingness to keep the secret. Phanes leaned in further, his tone hushed and conspiratorial. "I've been preparing my most grand creation of all, something that shall silence even you and your greatest ideas!"
Perseus couldn't contain his excitement and let out a delighted squeal.
"But it's not yet finished," Phanes continued, "it may take millennia, perhaps even eons to fully develop. But when I'm done, you will be the first one I share it with." With a brotherly affectionate pat on Perseus's head, Phanes conveyed his assurance, promising to deliver the full vigor of his work to his youngest brother.
Still bubbling with excitement over the prospect of what Phanes was creating, Perseus quickly decided to share his own enthusiasm. "Well, Brother Phanes, I have my own ideas of creation that I am here to share with Mother," he revealed.
"That's wonderful, Perseus," Phanes said with a grin. "You truly are something else; I am positive Chaos will be overjoyed to hear what her precious prince has in mind."
With a final pat on Perseus's head, Phanes gently extricated himself from the embrace, ready to continue his own divine duties. "I must be off," he informed Perseus, preparing to exit the enormous keep walls of Chaos's palace. "But we shall meet again soon, baby brother. Until then, take care!"
Perseus watched Phanes exit the castle's halls, and then, with determination in his eyes, he ventured further into the heart of his mother's abode. The gorgeous, ever-shifting chambers seemed to sense his presence, their colors and forms adjusting in response to his arrival. In an instant, he manifested himself next to Chaos's side, a burst of divine light and energy. Without a moment's hesitation, he wrapped his arms around her, embracing her warmly. "Mother," he exclaimed with genuine joy, "I've missed you so much!"
The primal goddess of creation reciprocated his embrace, holding Perseus close to her form - the form that she had always been in ever since his birth. Her eyes, like crystallized vortexes of magenta, cobalt, and asphalt, filled with motherly affection and boundless love, gazed down at her beloved son. Before she could say anything, Perseus - his passion gushing forward - began to share his idea with rapid excitement. "Mother, I've been thinking," he said in a rush, "I want to create beings, mortal or immortal, who can appreciate the beauty of your creations as much as I do. I want them to see the world through my eyes, for them to appreciate you."
He continued to elaborate on his vision, his words pouring forth with infectious enthusiasm as he outlined his concept of beings who would cherish the fleeting moments and appreciate the transience of life. "There are only a few more million years, and then once I receive my domains and principles, I can make it a reality!"
As Perseus finished explaining his idea, he finally noticed the sad look in Chaos's eyes. It was as if a cloud had passed over the brilliance of her existence, casting a shadow on her divine features. Perseus's fervor began to wane as he realized that something in his proposal had touched a deeper chord within the goddess of creation. With a hint of concern in his voice, he asked, "Mother, is something wrong? Did I say something to upset you?"
"Oh, Percy. My sweet Percy," Chaos, with a heavy heart, pulled him closer into her embrace, her touch gentle and comforting. Her fingers played with his hair, and she rested her chin atop his head.
After a moment, she withdrew slightly, her eyes locking with his, filled with maternal love and sorrow. "I'm so sorry, but... you will not be granted domains."
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