EDITED: MARCH of 2025: I fixed the grammar, rewrote some dialogue to go with my up to date style, and I did change some details that don't change the overall story. But details I felt weren't needed or just weren't that great.
I am going to be correctly editing the chapters to my liking all the way up to chapter 20. I will be trying to get out the edited chapters as fast as possible without burning myself out and so any new readers or older readers who want to go through it all again. Don't need to be put through the pain and torture of reading the mess I wrote years ago.
Hello and thank you to whoever is reading this FF. This story will hopefully be a long one spreading through the first five books but also becoming drastically different. Percy will be a bit OP from the get-go due to his training as a spartan and also met a friend during that time who is an OC and I hope you all love him as much as I will love creating him, This story will most likely be a PERCY X THALIA pairing as I read a few and honestly enjoyed it more than some other pairings.
Chapter 1: Sparta
"The great prophecy rests in the hands of this small boy? A mere child, expected to defeat the Titans as a demigod—before even reaching adulthood? Absurd!" An old woman's voice rang out, sharp with disbelief. Her thin, bony finger jabbed at the image of a young boy.
"I agree, sister," said another, her features a mirror of the first. She rubbed her chin, troubled. "I don't see a solution. The daughter of Zeus is a tree, and the two children of Hades remain trapped in the Lotus."
"The prophecy has always pointed to him. We ensured it would. But the training he receives at that… camp will never be enough. The world is doomed, and nothing can prevent—" The third sister abruptly stopped, her expression shifting. Slowly, a grin crept across her face.
The other two turned to her, curiosity flickering in their ancient eyes. "What is it, Clotho?" one of them asked.
Clotho continued nodding to herself, murmuring. "Yes… yes, that could work. It may be our only chance." She looked up at her sisters, eyes gleaming.
"We use the fragment of Kronos' soul to alter time. Send the boy back—far back—to the age of legends, the era mortals still speak of today. Let him be raised among them. In eight or nine years, we will bring him back—stronger, prepared. And the prophecy will be fulfilled."
"Are you mad?" Atropos snapped, whipping her head toward Clotho.
"Atropos, even if we do nothing, the world is doomed," Clotho countered, her voice firm. "The Titans will rise, and when they succeed, the Giants will follow. When that happens, we will all perish—Olympians, minor gods, demigods, even us. There will be nothing left, not even death itself."
Atropos opened her mouth to argue, but Lachesis cut in. "I agree. This is our only chance to set things right." She exhaled slowly, as if steadying herself for the weight of what she was about to say. "Once he leaves, we will keep time moving in the present. We will alter the prophecy—shifting the destined age from sixteen to eighteen. No quests will arise to disrupt the world until his return. When he comes back, he will be sixteen—two years before the prophecy unfolds. And in the past, he will have had eight years to train, to lead, to master his gifts."
Atropos shook her head in disbelief. "Lachesis, do you understand what you are suggesting? We would be breaking the very laws agreed upon by all pantheons. We could—"
"—we could very well destroy everything." Lachesis finished the thought for her, nodding grimly. "I know. But if we do nothing, there will be no pantheon left to uphold those laws. This world, which we have watched over for eons, will crumble in less than a millennium. And the Primordials? They will not just destroy this realm. They will tear each other apart fighting for dominion over the ruins." Her voice wavered slightly, her expression lined with unspoken fear.
Silence hung heavy between them.
Then Clotho spoke. "A vote of two to one. We proceed." Her tone brooked no argument.
She turned to the image of the boy, her decision final. "We will send him back to 404 B.C. The Spartans will raise him as one of their own. When the time is right, we will ensure our past selves give him the necessary knowledge to reintegrate into this era. When he returns, he will not be a boy lost in time—he will be sixteen, ready to fulfill his destiny."
All three Fates nodded in unison. Two wore expressions of unease, while the third remained grim—but in their shared gaze, uncertainty lingered. They knew the weight of what they were about to do.
Together, they began to chant in ancient Greek, their voices weaving through the dim cave like threads of fate itself. As the incantation rose, their forms began to shift. The haggard, timeworn figures melted away, transforming into beings of ethereal beauty—radiant enough to rival the most breathtaking mortals to have ever lived.
The cave trembled, groaning as if the very fabric of reality resisted their will. Their chanting intensified, the air thick with ancient power. At its peak, a fragment of pale blue light emerged from each of them, drifting forward until the three fragments fused into one. The glowing wisp floated toward the image of the boy—the child upon whom the fate of all rested.
The light pulsed, growing ever brighter, filling the cavern with an overwhelming radiance. It swelled to an unbearable brilliance, blinding the three sisters. Then, all at once—
Darkness.
A silence so absolute it swallowed even the echoes. Nothing could be seen. Nothing could be heard.
~~SCENE~~
Percy lay on his back in a vast field of green grass, dazed and disoriented. His head pounded as he slowly lifted it, glancing down at himself. His clothes were gone—replaced only by what looked like a simple cloth wrap. A… diaper?
"Hello?" he called out, sitting up. His voice wavered. He turned in every direction, but all he saw was endless grass—no trees, no buildings, nothing. Just open land stretching forever.
A voice, smooth and beautiful, broke the silence. "So, he's finally awake."
Percy whipped around, his breath hitching. Three women sat together on a stone bench beneath a lone tree, its branches casting dappled shadows over them. Their presence felt… unreal.
"Wh-Who are you?" he stammered, turning fully toward them. "Where's my mom?"
One of the women tilted her head slightly, a faint smile touching her lips. "Your mother isn't here, Percy."
His stomach twisted. How did they know his name?
Another woman, her expression unreadable, added, "She won't be here for another 2,400 years."
Percy's chest tightened. "I—I want my mom!" His voice cracked as panic flooded through him. Had he been kidnapped? Was this some kind of nightmare? His mom had always warned him—never use the phone. She'd told him over and over that if he did, he'd be taken away, that he'd never see her again.
Tears burned his eyes as he clasped his hands together. "I'm sorry for using the phone! I swear I'll never touch it again! Please—I won't even look at a phone! Just let me go home!"
One of the women sighed, her gaze softening. "Poor boy. We really did just leave him here without an explanation, didn't we?" She turned to the others, a shadow of concern in her eyes. "No wonder we became so old and haggard so quickly."
The second woman nodded grimly before turning back to Percy. "Listen, child. While your actions may have played a small role in why you're here, they are not the true reason."
She leaned forward slightly, her voice firm but not unkind. "Percy, you are… special. You were born to achieve great things—to lead, to fight, to stop evil from consuming the world."
She let the words settle. No sugarcoating, no easing him into it. The truth, raw and unavoidable.
One of the women raised a hand, gently signaling Percy to stay quiet. Then, slowly, she stepped toward him.
"Percy," she said softly, "do you want to see your mom again?"
He nodded frantically, his wide eyes glistening with unshed tears.
"Okay." Her voice was calm, soothing. "But to see her again, you'll need to stay here for a while. If you go back now, a very bad man will take her away… and only you can stop him." She knelt beside him, her presence warm, grounding. "But to do that, you have to become stronger—like a hero."
Percy blinked, his breathing uneven. "A hero? You mean like Perseus? Or Heracles? Even Achilles?"
A small smile touched her lips. "An even greater hero."
Percy's head felt heavy, but as her hand cupped his cheek, wiping away a stray tear, he let himself lean into her touch. The warmth soothed him, easing the fear that gripped his chest.
"But to become that hero," she continued, "you have to stay here and train. It won't be easy. Some days, you might hate it. But no matter what, you have to remember—you're doing this to protect your mom. To keep her safe when you return."
Percy swallowed, searching her face for any sign of deception. "You promise? If I do this… I'll keep my mom safe?"
The woman's eyes softened. "I promise." She brushed a lock of his hair aside. "Not just your mom—you'll protect your friends, and so many others who need you." She paused, then added, "But you have to give it everything you've got. No matter how hard it gets, no matter how much you want to give up… you have to keep going. Can you do that, Percy?"
He hesitated, then straightened slightly. His little hands curled into fists. "I will," he said. "I'll do it to save my mom. And my friends. And…" He gave a small, determined smile. "You."
The woman let out a quiet chuckle, bringing a hand to her mouth as if amused by his innocent promise. He had no idea how right he was.
"Thank you, Percy." Her voice was barely above a whisper. Then, she leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. "Stay strong, little hero. And never give up."
Percy's last thing he saw and felt was the very beautiful lady leaning in and kissing him on the forehead and it feeling just as warm and safe as his mom's kisses did, before everything went black.
Clotho rose to her feet, her gaze drifting toward the horizon, though she searched for nothing in particular. A soft cough behind her broke the silence.
"Clotho," a voice murmured. "Where did all of that come from?"
She turned, a small smile playing on her lips. "You two were treating him like a man—someone who should just accept the hard truth. But he's still a child. If we had told him everything outright, it would have only frightened him, sent him spiraling. I gave him something to hold onto. A reason to fight." She tilted her head. "And I did it in half the time it would've taken you."
The seated sister exhaled through her nose, unimpressed. "That may be true, but you've done more than that. You've opened the door for something deeper. If you're not careful, you'll become attached to him—like another mother."
Clotho's expression didn't waver. "Sister, we are already close to him. The moment we defied the Olympians, the moment we used Kronos' soul to bring him here, we invested more in him than we ever have in a mortal."
A heavy silence settled between them.
"Unfortunately, that is true," Atropos admitted. "Now, we wait. Until the time comes when he is ready—when we can return and give him the knowledge he will need."
She let out a slow breath before vanishing in a burst of light. Lachesis followed a moment later, her form dissolving into the ether.
That left Clotho alone.
She lingered for just a moment longer, staring at the empty space where Percy had stood. Then, without another word, she too disappeared, fading into the silent void.
~~SCENE~~
Percy suddenly jolted awake in a dimly lit room, disoriented and confused. The first thing he noticed was that the cloth diaper he had been wearing was gone. In its place, a cloak now covered him, reaching from his neck down to his ankles. He blinked, trying to process the strange new setting. Around him were other boys, all his age, wearing identical cloaks. No one else seemed to be bothered by their state of undress.
Before he could gather his thoughts, the door to the room creaked open. A tall man entered, his voice booming as he barked orders in a language Percy had never heard before—but somehow, he understood it perfectly. The words felt more natural to him than English ever had.
The man led them outside to a riverbank, where he explained—again in that foreign tongue—that the boys would need to make their own beds using whatever materials they could find in the area. Those beds would be theirs until adulthood.
Percy opened his mouth, ready to ask where the tools were to gather the necessary items. But before he could speak, another boy beside him raised the same question. The man didn't answer verbally. Instead, he slapped the boy hard across the face, silencing him. With a sharp glare, the man grabbed the boy's hands and snarled, "These are the only tools you will ever need."
Percy winced, instinctively looking away from the scene. He could see the sting in the boy's eyes, and it made him feel uneasy. But it also stirred something deep inside him. He had to act.
Scouring the area, Percy searched for anything that could make a comfortable bed. He found some grass, leaves, and branches, and with the little knowledge he had, he made a makeshift mattress—nothing like the soft bed he had at home, but it would have to do. He could carry it around if he had to, and for now, that was enough.
As he stood back, observing the other boys still struggling to make their beds, he felt a twinge of guilt. He could have stayed in his corner and let them figure it out themselves. But then, he remembered the beautiful woman's words: "You must help those who need it. You will be a hero."
His heart skipped a beat. These boys would be like his brothers from now on, and he couldn't just stand by while they struggled.
With a deep breath, Percy stood up and made his way toward the others. Without a second thought, he began helping them, showing them how to make their beds. They were his family now, and he didn't leave family behind.
Percy stood up, wiping his hands on his cloak after helping the last boy. As he turned to return to his makeshift bed, his heart sank. His mattress was gone. He scanned the area, his brow furrowing, but it was nowhere to be found.
His eyes finally landed on a boy sitting comfortably on the mattress, a smug grin plastered on his face. Anger flared up in Percy's chest as he stalked over to the thief.
"That's mine," Percy demanded, pointing at the bed. "Give it back."
The boy looked up at him, unfazed, still wearing that obnoxious grin. "I don't know what you're talking about. I found this all alone. It's mine now."
Before Percy could respond, the sound of approaching footsteps cut through the air. The man appeared, his voice sharp and commanding.
"What's going on here?" he barked, his eyes narrowing on the two boys.
"He stole my bed," Percy said, his voice rising in frustration. "I went to help the others, and when I came back, it was gone. He took it."
The boy scoffed, unbothered. "I don't know what he's talking about. I found this lying around and figured it was just left behind. So I took it. Simple as that."
The man's eyes flicked between the two boys, his expression unreadable. Then, a cruel smile spread across his face, and Percy felt a chill run through him.
"So, you're both saying it's your bed?" The man's voice was laced with amusement, but it only made both boys grow tense.
The man turned to the gathered group of boys, who had started to circle around the two like vultures.
"Since we have such a problem with this bed…" the man announced loudly, his grin widening. "How about we settle this once and for all?"
The boys gathered around, waiting for the man's next move, their eyes glinting with curiosity. Percy felt his blood run cold as the circle closed in.
"Settle it ho—" Percy tried to speak, but before he could finish, a sharp punch to his jaw sent him sprawling onto his back. The world spun as he saw two of everything. A loud cheer erupted from the boys around him. His vision blurred, and dizziness clouded his mind.
Percy tried to scramble to his feet, but another kick to his stomach knocked the wind out of him. He gasped, struggling to breathe. His chest tightened, and for a moment, he felt like he might suffocate. He wanted to cry. Why was this happening? Why wasn't the man doing anything to stop it?
Confusion and helplessness swirled in his head, but then—his mom. The woman's words echoed in his mind: "Stay strong, Percy. Keep fighting for your mom. You have to become a hero."
He couldn't give up. He couldn't let the bad guy win. He had to keep going, no matter what.
Percy focused through the pain, his thoughts clearing. A kick aimed at his head came swiftly, but he instinctively blocked it with his arm. Pain shot through his body, but he pushed it down. That was the right move. He knew it.
Determination surged through him. With a grunt, Percy pushed himself up, wiping the blood from his mouth. His heart hammered in his chest. He could do this.
The boy who had been tormenting him swung a punch. Percy barely managed to dodge it. His fists clenched, and without thinking, he threw his first real punch—something deep inside him pushing him to act.
His fist connected with the boy's face with a sickening thud. The boy staggered backward, blood pouring from his nose. Percy stood frozen for a second, shocked by what he'd just done, but his attention snapped to the man. The man stood motionless, his face unreadable.
The boy, still dazed, began to get up. Percy knew it wasn't over. One of them had to go down for good. He couldn't hesitate.
He took a deep breath, gathered his strength, and launched a swift kick to the boy's head. The impact was hard, and the boy crumpled to the ground, blood flowing freely from his nose and lip. He didn't move again.
The cheering stopped. Percy stood over the boy, chest heaving. His heart pounded, but his mind was calm. He had done what needed to be done.
He glanced at the man. The tiniest hint of a smile flickered on his lips, almost imperceptible. Without a word, the man shoved the makeshift mattress into Percy's hands. Then, he turned to the group of boys, his voice cold and commanding.
"Let this be known to all of you. Don't take anyone's shit. And if you're planning on dishing it out, make sure you can handle the consequences. Or you'll end up like this." He pointed at the boy on the ground, still unconscious, blood staining the dirt beneath him.
"Now, since not everyone here has a bed, it looks like we're going to have to stay here a bit longer until everyone does," the man announced, his voice cold and commanding.
The boys all turned their attention to the boy with the bloodied lip and nose, who was now standing up, trying to regain his bearings.
"Since this shit-giver doesn't have a bed," the man continued, an evil smile creeping onto his face, "we're going to need to wait until he finishes making one. While he's doing that, the rest of you are going to be busy with something else."
The boys exchanged confused glances, uncertainty filling the air.
"See that dead tree over there?" the man pointed toward a tree fifty yards away, standing like a bleak monument in the distance. "I want you all to run to it and back here. Keep doing that until this one"—he jerked his thumb at the bloodied boy—"gets his bed finished."
The boys looked between the man and the boy, now feeling the weight of the man's words. The evil smile never left the man's face, but the boys' eyes were now filled with anger, frustration, and resentment.
"He is not at fault," the man added, his voice taking on a mocking tone, "the fault lies with all of you who let him slack off and try to take the easy way. You are all brothers now. You will eat, sleep, piss, shit, and live with one another until death. Letting one fall behind means you all fall behind."
A beat of silence. Then the man's voice boomed like thunder, "NOW GET RUNNING!"
With that, the boys surged into motion, sprinting toward the dead tree, each clutching their makeshift beds. The harshness of the man's command lingered in the air as they began their grueling task, their hearts heavy with both exhaustion and the weight of their newfound reality.
~~SCENE~~
FIVE YEARS LATER
Percy had reached the age of 12, the same age as his brothers. From there, they were pushed to seek out an older Spartan to bond with—an older brother figure. Percy thought of it like the older brother program he had heard about back when he was still living with his mom in New York.
As he walked through the camp, his mind drifted to thoughts of his old life, a life he was slowly starting to forget. The faces, the streets, the simple comforts of home—they all blurred more with each passing day. But one thing remained clear: his mom. Percy's heart clenched as the familiar ache of longing crept into his chest.
"Just four more years," he whispered to himself, "and I can go home."
Sure, he'd been told every day that he would live and die as a Spartan, but after the first four years of training, something had changed in him. A small voice, faint but persistent, had begun to whisper to him that he would be reunited with his family—that he wouldn't be here forever. At first, Percy had brushed it off as nothing more than a fleeting thought, a little part of him that wanted to give up. But the voice kept coming back.
The voice that spoke of a life beyond the endless training. A voice that reminded him of what he'd left behind.
Lost in his thoughts, Percy didn't realize that his feet had carried him further into the camp. Without warning, he bumped into an older boy.
"Watch where you're going, little one," the older boy snarled, his hand pushing Percy back roughly.
Percy stumbled back a few steps, catching himself before glaring up at the older boy. "Who are you calling little?" he shot back, his voice sharp. "You're only a few inches taller than me, and judging by the way your balls look like grapes, we both know you're not talking about my cock."
A few boys around them snickered, amused by Percy's bold retort.
The older boy smirked, unfazed, then looked up at the sky as though he were pondering something profound. "Interesting," he mused, "for a fish fucker to have an opinion on my balls." His smirk grew wider. "Ah, the sun hasn't set yet. You can still find a fish in the stream to give you a nice fucking."
The crowd began to gather around them, a mix of younger and older boys watching with growing interest. What had started as a simple exchange of sharp words was quickly escalating. Some of the boys, sensing an opportunity for entertainment, began adding fuel to the fire, turning the conversation from playful banter into a challenge.
Percy knew exactly what they were trying to do—provoke a fight. He wasn't biting. Instead, he raised an eyebrow in confusion, realizing the boy was getting more agitated by the second. Then it clicked—this kid wasn't just some mortal; he was a son of Enyo. And as the goddess of war and violence, it made sense that this boy was easily triggered. His anger was his weapon.
Percy's smirk barely twitched. He wasn't going to give in to it. But it was clear the other boy was convinced now—this wasn't just some lighthearted exchange for him. He was ready for a fight.
In Sparta, Percy had discovered at the age of ten that boys who showed exceptional promise—whether in physical strength or mental acuity—were tested in very particular ways to see if they bore the blood of the gods. The training was grueling, a brutal regimen of constant punishments and extreme physical demands that would leave even the most seasoned Spartan warriors exhausted. Percy, however, endured it all, his body growing stronger with each passing day.
It was during one such trial, when Percy found himself cornered by five older boys, that he discovered the truth of his lineage. Surrounded and outnumbered, the pressure of the fight mounted, and that's when it happened. He felt it—something deep within him. The water, the very element that ran through his veins, seemed to answer his call. It surged around him, responding as if it recognized him as one of its own. Percy knew, in that moment, that he was the son of Poseidon.
Before Percy could respond to the boy's taunts, the older boy swung at him. Percy quickly blocked the punch, then countered with a kick to the boy's gut. The kick landed solidly but only caused the other boy to take a step back. The two boys immediately engaged, trading blows and kicks, each dodging and blocking attacks, but also taking hits in turn.
Finally, Percy saw an opening and kicked out the boy's foot, causing him to stumble. Seizing the moment, Percy charged at him, trying to tackle the boy to the ground.
However, Percy quickly realized his mistake. The boy regained his footing and caught Percy mid-charge. With a grunt, the boy brought his elbow down hard on Percy's back, knocking the wind out of him and loosening his grip. The boy lifted Percy, preparing to finish him off, but Percy wasn't done yet. In a flash, he headbutted the boy squarely in the nose, causing a sickening crunch to echo through the air.
Dazed from the force of the headbutt, Percy barely had time to react before the boy slammed a punch into his nose, eliciting another sickening crunch. Percy's vision blurred, seeing double as the pain seared through him. He tried to steady himself, but the world tilted, and he collapsed onto his back.
The boys who had gathered to watch the fight cheered for the obvious victor before dispersing, as was customary in these challenges. No one had died, and that was enough to end the contest.
Percy slowly sat up, spitting a thick glob of mucus and blood, his hand instinctively going to his nose. With a grimace, he repositioned it back into place, gritting his teeth against the pain. Squinting, he looked up to see a hand extended toward him.
He grasped the hand, and soon, he was face to face with his opponent. The boy chuckled, his voice still dripping with disdain but tinged with respect. "For a fish-fucker, you sure know how to throw a punch."
"For a corpse-fucker, you know how to take a punch," Percy shot back, recalling some rumors about the children of Ares and Enyo being associated with necrophilia.
The boy threw his head back and laughed loudly. "You know, little one, you're not half bad. Name's Ajax," he said, extending his hand.
"Percy," Percy replied, taking Ajax's hand. He shook it firmly, a grin spreading across his face. He had found his older brother.
~~SCENE~~
Two Years Later
Percy and Ajax were racing through the forest, each determined to outpace the other. The race began when they stumbled upon three beautiful young women, who were deep in conversation.
"Well, well, if it isn't the daughters of Aphrodite," Ajax called out, his grin bright enough to rival Apollo's sun.
The women turned toward the two demigods, giggling and blushing as their eyes caught sight of Ajax.
"What makes you think we're children of Aphrodite?" one of them asked, stepping out from the group, her tone teasing.
"Because," Ajax replied with a confident smirk, "I don't think anyone with a smile and... assets like yours could be anyone but."
The woman rolled her eyes but smiled nonetheless. "You do have a point." She tapped her finger thoughtfully to her chin, then slowly slid it down to her collarbone, clearly enjoying the banter. "But... I do wonder why you two approached my sisters and me."
"We didn't even realize we were heading in this direction until we were just a few feet away from you," Percy chimed in, winking at the other girls and causing them to blush. "Right, Ajax?"
Ajax raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "Oh, so you were lost in our beauty? How interesting," one of the women teased, her voice playful, before her expression shifted to one of mock concern. "I take it you want some of our time? I'm sure my sisters would gladly accept, but…" She delicately touched Ajax's arm, then pulled her hand back, pouting. "I just don't know if you have the stamina to satisfy us."
Percy knew the woman was teasing, and he was ready to play along. But before he could respond, Ajax spoke up, clearly taking the challenge to heart.
"Oh, we have the stamina," Ajax replied confidently, his grin widening. He quickly wrapped an arm around Percy's shoulders, pulling him in, and whispered something in his ear. "This is going to be easy."
Percy groaned internally, knowing Ajax had just made things far more complicated than they needed to be. Their teasing banter was fun, but Ajax had a tendency to take things a bit too far.
The woman's face broke into a mischievous grin. "Is that so? Well, if you're so confident, I think it would be best to prove your stamina." She glanced at her sisters, who were now watching expectantly. "Fetch us an apple from the trees. We're quite hungry, you see."
Ajax raised an eyebrow, clearly unfazed. "Those trees are at least a three-mile run."
"Do I hear complaints?" the head beauty asked, her tone teasing before she was interrupted.
"Of course not. We'll get you every apple we can," Ajax replied quickly, not missing a beat.
"Oh, thank you," she said dramatically, her voice sweet as honey. She leaned in and kissed Ajax on the cheek. "Please hurry, my sisters and I are quite hungry."
As she pulled away, another sister walked up and did the same to Percy, planting a soft kiss on his cheek.
Percy and Ajax exchanged glances, their faces a mix of amusement and mild disbelief, before they turned and bolted toward the tree line, heading in the direction of the apple trees.
"I really didn't need to do that, did I?" the sister who kissed Percy asked, her voice teasing, but with a hint of genuine concern.
"They'll be back in a handful of minutes. Don't worry," the head sister responded, still smiling.
As Percy and Ajax raced towards the trees, Ajax huffed next to Percy. "Three sisters, two for me, one for you. Praise the gods."
Before Percy could reply, a loud roar echoed through the forest, followed by a scream of pain that quickly faded. The two demigods sprinted toward the source of the noise, bursting into a clearing that quickly revealed itself as a massacre. Three men lay dead, their bodies torn to pieces—limbs scattered, blood painting the earth in far more volume than should be possible. The air was thick with the stench of death, urine, and feces. Percy fought to steel himself, but even so, he felt the bile rising in his throat.
His attention snapped downward as something cold gripped his leg. Startled, he looked down to see the lifeless hand of a fourth man, his legs missing, dragging weakly on Percy's ankle.
"Get out of here... call for help," the man croaked, his voice ragged. "This was supposed to be Hounds of Hades..." His grip went slack as his eyes glazed over, his life gone.
Percy's eyes snapped up to find Ajax staring at something on the other side of the clearing, his face filled with shock. Percy followed his gaze, his heart sinking into his stomach. There, standing on the far side of the clearing, was a beast—the very one they had been warned about. Percy recognized it instantly: The Minotaur. His father's creation.
Percy let out a weary sigh. He reached out to grab Ajax's shoulder, but the sound of a twig snapping beneath his foot froze him in place. The Minotaur's head snapped toward them with terrifying speed, its glowing eyes locking onto the two demigods.
It roared.
The Minotaur took one step, then another, each stride gaining speed.
"He's charging us," Ajax said, stating the obvious.
"I can see that," Percy shot back, quickly dropping into a fighting stance, his focus sharpening. He began to call upon the water around him, willing it to bend to his will. "We can't outrun him, and we can't risk him following us back. He'll kill civilians."
Ajax nodded, his eyes burning with determination. "So we have to fight."
Percy glanced at his brother, noting the wild grin plastered on his face. Then, he felt it—an aura of madness and bloodlust that seeped through the air and into his own body. It was Ajax's nature, a terrifying energy that Percy had come to recognize, and it felt familiar. His own adrenaline surged in response, sharpening his senses as he let that bloodlust consume him, fueling his power.
A smile slowly spread across Percy's face as he summoned water from the ground, forming it into a trident with a fluid flick of his wrist.
"You take right, I'll take left," Percy said, his voice steady. "Remember, he can't adjust his movements mid-charge."
"Of course," replied Ajax, holding out his hand for a fallen spear from a Spartan, which was summoned to his grip. "This is going to be a pain without armor. Our cocks are still out," he chuckled, flashing a grin.
Percy was about to reply, but the moment for banter was gone as the Minotaur finally reached them. With a burst of speed, Percy dove to the left, rolling and throwing his trident. It soared through the air, aimed at the Minotaur's calf, and pierced the beast's leg with a satisfying thunk.
The creature howled in pain, its fury rising as the liquid trident was quickly ripped out. It whirled around, eyes locking on Percy as it swung its massive fists, but in its haste, the beast forgot Ajax was still there. Ajax took full advantage, slashing his spear deep across the Minotaur's right side, the force of the blow sending a spray of golden blood into the air.
The Minotaur roared again, clutching at its side, but it wasn't finished. With a speed that defied its size, the beast swung a fist at Ajax. Caught off guard by the Minotaur's surprising recovery.
Ajax tried to block the blow with his spear, using his arms to absorb the impact, but the force was too much. The punch sent him flying into a nearby tree, the wood cracking under the weight of his body as he crumpled to the ground. He groaned as he knelt, spitting out a wad of blood. "Is that all you got, you son of a bull-fucker?"
The Minotaur's nostrils flared in fury, its eyes locking onto Ajax as it charged forward. The beast closed the gap quickly, but just as it was five feet away, its left leg buckled beneath its weight. A sharp pain shot through the creature's thigh.
The Minotaur looked down, seeing the spear embedded deep in his leg, golden ichor squirting out with every pulse of his heart. Growling, the creature shifted all its weight onto the right leg and began to pull the spear out.
But before the Minotaur could free the weapon, a voice rang out, sending a chill down his spine. "You forgot about me?"
The beast turned just in time to receive a knee to the mouth. The force sent the Minotaur sprawling back, his mouth filling with a rush of golden blood.
Percy landed gracefully, his feet skimming the ground before he dove for the spear. With a quick, brutal motion, he thrust the spear's head deep into the Minotaur's other leg. The weapon skewered both limbs, pinning the monster to the ground as the bronze shaft locked in place.
The Minotaur attempted to roar in pain and rage, but was met with Ajax's foot crushing down on his throat. He looked up, locking eyes with the boy who had been slammed into the tree earlier. Ajax's smile was cold, twisted with a dark amusement. A chill ran down the Minotaur's spine as he gasped for air, his windpipe shattered by the force of the stomp. The beast knew he could survive for a time, the injury would heal, but the suffocating grip around his throat was unbearable.
"For being one of a kind, you're one weak heifer," Ajax chuckled darkly, his voice dripping with malice. With a grunt, he stomped again, this time on one of the Minotaur's horns. The bone cracked and snapped off with a sickening sound. Ajax laughed, holding the broken horn up, inspecting it. "I'll take one of these for myself. Maybe I can show the beautiful girls and they'll forgive me for the whole apple incident."
Percy grabbed another spear from one of the dead Spartans nearby and walked over, standing tall above the Minotaur, looking down at the beast's bloodied form. He smirked, taunting, "I don't know, you sure took that punch pretty hard."
He leveled the spear at the Minotaur's chest, the sharp tip glinting in the sunlight. "Let's see what you give me for sending you back to Tartarus, heifer." Percy whispered just loud enough for the monster to hear.
The Minotaur's eyes widened in fury, but before he could retaliate, Percy drove the spear into his heart. The beast let out a final curse, his body going stiff as his soul was dragged back to the underworld, his life snuffed out for good.
Percy's eyes widened in surprise as the Minotaur's body vanished. He knew it would happen, but he was still shocked to find that there were no spoils of war left behind. "Oh, that's bull shit," Percy groaned, frustrated that he got nothing from defeating the beast.
"Nah, he didn't even leave you that," Ajax quipped, holding his side and leaning against a tree, trying not to laugh too hard.
The two demigods scanned the area, checking for any other beasts nearby, before they set to work collecting the armor and weapons from their fallen brothers. They piled everything in the center of the clearing, leaving the bodies behind to be retrieved later by others. The thick forest made it impossible to carry the four larger men back, and they weren't equipped for that task.
Once their work was done, they began making their way back to the city. As they moved through the forest, a massive storm started to roll in. Dark clouds gathered overhead, and lightning crackled through the sky, followed by booming thunder in the distance.
"Wonder what has Zeus so pissed off today," Ajax chuckled, still holding his side with one hand and the Minotaur's broken horn in the other.
"Probably caught with another nymph by Hera and is getting talked down to," Percy joked, causing both of them to chuckle.
The duo took a few more steps before three females appeared before them. Percy instantly summoned a trident, readying himself, while Ajax got into a fighting stance, using the Minotaur's horn like a dagger. The three females regarded them with amusement, before one took a step forward and raised a hand.
"Percy, have you already forgotten about us?" she asked with a playful smirk.
Percy narrowed his eyes at the woman, his hands slowly lowering as the trident dissolved into mist. "I—it's you three again. But how... you look exactly the same," Percy murmured, taking a step forward, the warmth of her hand almost pulling him in, making him want to approach her.
Ajax, noticing Percy taking another step forward, grabbed his shoulder. "Percy, what are you doing? Do you know who these three are?" Ajax asked, his voice filled with confusion.
"They're the ones who brought me here, the ones who told me I needed to do this to protect my mother," Percy replied, pointing at the three Fates, his expression as serious as he could manage while looking at Ajax.
"By the gods, you were being serious?!" Ajax's voice rose in disbelief. "I honestly thought you were just drunk that night, rambling about some dream you had." His arm fell limply at his side as he looked between Percy, the three Fates, and back at Percy, his confusion deepening.
"Percy, something's wrong," one of the Fates who had stepped forward said, her voice tinged with urgency. "The gods have found out you're here. They can sense that you don't belong in this time, and they fear you're one of the Titans' offspring. We need to send you back—now."
"But I have two more years to go, you said," Percy quickly replied, slowly pulling his arm back.
"That was true," one of the Fates said, her gaze hardening, "but you killing the Minotaur caused problems. The Minotaur was supposed to survive his encounter with the four warriors and then kill the fifth that came across it."
"But there wasn't a fifth man—just me and Ajax," Percy countered.
"We know," she responded, glaring at Ajax. "But tell me, Percy, if you hadn't been there—then what?"
Percy stood there, trying to make sense of it. A moment of realization flashed across his face. His eyes widened, and he slowly turned toward Ajax. "You were supposed to die…" he whispered.
Ajax's face went pale as he realized the implication. His eyes shifted nervously between Percy and the Fates.
Percy's head snapped back toward the three sisters. "But that doesn't explain why the gods should know who I am! They have plenty of children—my father has dozens scattered across Greece! What makes me so special?" His voice grew more desperate.
"Percy…" Clotho said, her voice grave. "When you killed the Minotaur, he cursed the gods and you for ending his life. That's not the problem. The problem is… one of the gods decided to investigate why the Minotaur was roaming the world again. And when they looked into the demigod he cursed—you—they realized something. They didn't recognize you. They don't know who you are, but they know one thing: a demigod they didn't create is walking freely, and they fear you might be one of the Titans' offspring."
Before Percy could fully process her words, a massive thunderbolt tore through the air, aimed straight at him.
"PERCY!" Ajax screamed, diving in front of him.
The lightning struck so fast that Percy didn't even have time to brace himself. Everything went dark.
When Percy's vision cleared, he found himself in a dimly lit cave, lying on his side, gasping for breath. His heart pounded in his chest as he tried to make sense of what just happened.
"That was close," Clotho said, wiping a bead of sweat from her forehead, her voice calm but with a hint of something darker beneath the surface.
"You brought the other one with you, sister? Well done," Atropos sneered, her glare cutting through the dim cave light as she eyed the boy who had escaped death yet again.
Percy blinked up at her, but his attention quickly shifted to Ajax, who was still partially on top of him, both of them breathing heavily from the close call. Ajax let out a groan, pushing himself off Percy and rolling onto his back, staring up at the cave ceiling.
"You know, Percy, sometimes I regret being your chosen brother," Ajax said with a wry grin.
Percy chuckled, lifting his head slightly to look at his friend. "You tell me that at least three times a day. You've got two more to go," he shot back, his own gaze drifting to the ceiling as well.
Clotho stepped forward, her gaze serious. "Percy, we must hurry. The others can still find you here."
Percy slowly pushed himself up, his legs wobbling as he stood, but he managed to steady himself. "Fine, but if I go back, I want Ajax to come with me," he said, raising a hand before the three sisters could argue. "You said it yourselves. He should be dead. That means he's not supposed to be here. Sending him with me won't cause any problems—he wouldn't have had any impact on things. He's supposed to be with me."
"NO, we already endangered ourselves and the rest of Olympus by bringing you here. We will not be sending some Spartan who's the child of Enyo to the present day." Atropos yelled, stomping forward. "How dare you try to make a deal with us, boy, especially now?"
"I accept," Clotho piped up, a hint of amusement glinting in her eyes.
"You can't be serious, sister. Do you know what will happen to us if the gods find out?" Atropos spat, pointing a finger at her sister, nearly poking her eye.
"Even if we send Percy back alone, we still risk punishment from the others. I believe it's best to send the boy with Percy," Clotho replied, calm and collected. "Percy is two years younger than he should be, and the boy is only a son of Enyo. He won't shift the prophecy or endanger it. Plus, another Spartan will help in the inevitable war to come."
Lachesis stepped forward, a small smile tugging at her lips as she glanced at Ajax. "I know you agree, Atropos, you just don't want to admit it because he escaped your shears." She gave Ajax a wink. "I've always liked the ones who caused my older sister misfortune."
"By the gods, if this backfires, I will drag you down to Tartarus myself, Lachesis!" Atropos snapped, pointing an accusing finger at her younger sister, who was still smiling at Ajax.
"Alright, it's settled." Clotho clapped once, gaining everyone's attention. "Now, before we send you two back, we need to implant the knowledge our future selves gave us to give to you." Clotho stepped up to Percy and gently cupped his face. "Lachesis will do it for the other boy. I don't trust Atropos…" She gave a pointed look at her sister. "Now, this is going to hurt a tiny bit, boys."
"Ha, last time we were told that, I pissed blood for a week and—" Ajax was cut off as Lachesis pressed a palm onto his head. A pain unlike anything he'd ever felt shot through his skull, as though Hades himself was tearing his brain apart in the Fields of Torment. He tried to scream but couldn't; the pain was too severe.
Ajax's eyes shifted to his right, and he saw Percy with a hand pressed against his head. But unlike Ajax, who was doing everything in his power to escape the agony, Percy was holding Clotho's arm, looking as if he were enjoying it. This madman is getting his rocks off on this?!
Ajax gritted his teeth and decided to shut his eyes, waiting for the pain to pass. That's when it hit him.
Knowledge. It flooded him—the knowledge of the world in the 21st century, what kind of music was popular, what foods were eaten, the technology they were learning to use. Everything was rushing in, and Ajax stopped fighting it. He allowed it to wash over him, and finally, the pain subsided. The hand on his head was now a comforting presence.
Ajax reached up, intending to caress Lachesis's face in gratitude, but before he could, she shoved his hand away.
"All done!" Lachesis shouted.
"Now… you two will know most of the basic things needed to fit in with other demigods and humans around you. I do request that you keep the details of being from Sparta a secret until it can no longer be hidden," Clotho said, her eyes serious as she looked at the two boys. They both nodded. "We will send you to our future selves, who will then send you where you need to go."
Clotho finished speaking and nodded at her sisters. Without another word, they all walked toward the boys, holding one another's hands. They began to chant in a language unfamiliar to the demigods.
Before Ajax could say anything, his vision went dark. A sudden stretch shot across his entire body, as though every inch was being pulled, and for a moment, he felt weightless. He was lost in the sensation before everything began to spin, and he gasped for air as the pressure around him intensified.
With a snap, his vision cleared, and he found himself on the ground where he had just stood, a disorienting dizziness still lingering. Percy was slowly pushing himself up beside him, also struggling to catch his breath.
"That wasn't so bad. Better than the hand," Ajax muttered, still recovering.
"It hurt you? Because for me it was…" Percy trailed off, his voice faltering.
"It was, what, Percy?" a soothing voice responded, the words almost teasing.
"You don't like a little pain, Ajax?" Another voice chimed in, feigning hurt. "It's been two millennia, but I still like it."
Ajax slowly looked up and, to his surprise, saw three very old women standing before them, looking as though they might crumble to dust at any moment.
"Lachesis…?" Ajax asked, confused, his voice a mix of recognition and disbelief.
Clotho stepped forward, transforming herself into her younger, more alluring form, followed by the other two. With a smile, she spoke. "It's nice to see you two again. It might've been just a second for you, but 2,400 years for us."
The two stood up straight, nodding in unison. Clotho was about to snap her fingers when Atropos suddenly spoke up, "Hold on, hold on. I may be heartless, but I'm not going to let them embarrass themselves further."
With a flick of her wrist, the boys stumbled back, quickly catching themselves. "There. Now you won't be swinging your cocks around everywhere you go."
Both boys looked down and found themselves now dressed in modern-day clothing. Ajax was sporting dark jeans, a tight-fitting black T-shirt, and a red plaid button-up layered over it, sleeves rolled up. He had thick, heavy boots on his feet—boots that felt a bit out of place for a Spartan, but after a moment, he adjusted to them, though they still felt odd.
Percy wore the same outfit, but instead of black and red, his shirt was white with a sea-green plaid pattern.
The two fidgeted uncomfortably, feeling suffocated by the unnatural layers of clothing after living with nothing but a cloak for most of their lives. But they knew this would be much better than facing the wind and having their balls exposed.
The other two sisters raised an eyebrow and looked at Atropos. The eldest sister raised her hands, feigning innocence. "What? Just because I don't like this plan, I can't make them look decent to the human eye?" Both of her sisters nodded in silent agreement.
Clotho studied the two boys, noting their striking physical similarities. Percy stood at 5'10", with the promise of growing a few more inches by the time he reached adulthood. Ajax, however, stood at a solid 6'0" and would likely stay there. Both boys had the same muscular build, with almost no fat covering their toned bodies. They followed the Spartan tradition where every boy, aged 14 and up, developed a physique resembling a marble statue.
The biggest differences lay in their faces. Percy's face was more angular, with a sharp jawline, and his jet-black hair was slicked back to reveal his sea-green eyes. Ajax, in contrast, had a wider face with a square jaw, and his deep red eyes—often mistaken for dark brown at first glance—had a certain intensity. His hair, also jet black, was kept shorter and neater than Percy's.
The power radiating from the two was undeniable. Years of intense training, starting from their early childhood, had pushed their godly gifts to the forefront. Their powers were now finely honed, strained through rigorous discipline and control, allowing them to wield them effortlessly.
Clotho smiled to herself, mentally patting herself on the back for making such a great choice in bringing the two of them together.
~~SCENE~~
Percy and Ajax opened their eyes and found themselves staring at a towering building. They stepped inside and were immediately struck by the luxurious surroundings. Ajax let out a low whistle and, now fluent in English from his time with Lachesis, muttered, "I wonder who we're meeting who can afford this."
Percy nodded and headed toward the elevators. As he stepped inside and was about to press the button, he noticed Ajax hesitating. "Oh, come on," Percy groaned, grabbing Ajax by the collar and yanking him inside. "You can fight the Minotaur head-on, but gods forbid you step into an elevator."
"Go fuck a fish," Ajax shot back, trying to breathe deeply and hide his unease.
With a smirk, Percy pressed the button for the 10th floor, and the doors slid shut. The elevator lurched to life and began its ascent. "This feels a bit weird," Percy mused, standing rigid and still as a rock, his training as sharp as ever. "Haven't been in one of these since I was, like, seven."
He glanced over at Ajax, who was standing just as stiffly. But Percy caught the slight twitch in his brother's eye—Ajax clearly wanted to move, to grab something, anything, for reassurance.
The elevator finally reached the 10th floor, and the two stepped out, heading down the hallway. They turned to the right and finally stopped in front of room 1009. Percy lightly knocked on the door, the sound echoing in the quiet corridor.
After a long pause, a voice came from behind the door. "Coming, give me a second."
The sound of a lock being undone filled the air, and the door creaked open. "Yes, how may I—"
The voice faltered, cutting off. "P-Percy?"
Percy's heart skipped a beat as he looked at the woman in the doorway, his breath catching in his throat. "Mom?"
Sally's eyes instantly filled with tears as she stared at him, the shock and disbelief evident in her face. Without a word, she lunged forward, practically tackling him in a fierce embrace, as if afraid that if she let go, he'd vanish again.
Percy held her tightly, his own tears starting to fall, soaking into her shoulder. "It's okay, Mom. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."
Sally finally pulled away after a long moment, still holding onto one of Percy's arms as if afraid he'd vanish at any second. She wiped her tears with her free hand, looking up at him with a smile full of relief. "Oh, my boy's finally back home…" Her voice cracked slightly, and she couldn't help but laugh, though it was more from the sheer overwhelming emotions she was feeling.
But then her eyes moved to Ajax, standing awkwardly in the background. "Oh, who's this?"
Ajax, feeling like he was intruding on a deeply personal moment, cleared his throat. "Hello, ma'am. I'm Ajax. Your son's older brother, if you will." He smiled politely, extending his hand and giving hers a gentle shake.
"Older brother?" Sally's brow furrowed, and she let out a soft, confused chuckle. "I don't remember having another son."
Percy shot Ajax a look that could only be interpreted as "great job"—a mix of amusement and frustration. His eyes widened in that familiar silent 'how the hell are we going to explain this?' way.
"Uh, Mom," Percy began, stepping forward and gently nudging her inside. "How about we go inside and we can talk about everything in there?" He smiled, trying to ease the awkwardness, his tone as calm as possible despite the storm brewing in his mind.
He shot another glare at Ajax, who was rubbing the back of his head with an embarrassed grimace, mentally cursing himself for letting that slip.
A/N: Hopefully this updated version was to everyone's liking.