Chapter 30: Of Regrets and Hope

Fatebound Arc III

"Thalia Grace, where the Hades have you been?!" Clarisse barked as she stomped toward her, her armor clanking with every step. Her voice was sharp, loud enough to carry across the wreckage-strewn street, but there was a flicker of something else beneath it—relief, maybe, though she'd never admit it.

"You've been off doing gods know what while our lives have been a living hell! Monsters everywhere, the entire camp on its last legs—" She stopped inches from Thalia, her breath still heavy from the fight, her grip tightening on her shield. "You better have one Hades of an excuse."

"Clarisse, give them a break," Beckendorf said, stepping up beside her with his war hammer resting over his shoulder. His face was streaked with grease and soot, and his shirt was torn in places, but there was a steadiness in his voice. "They don't look too much better than we do."

He gave Thalia and Percy a quick once-over, his dark eyes sharp but not unkind. Percy's pants was ripped, exposing a nasty gash along his leg, and Thalia's arms bore deep scratches. Her face was streaked with ash and blood.

Thalia told them they had gone to the Princess Andromeda to save Luke, she explained in detail, thinking they could still reach him. But Kronos had been waiting. It was a trap, designed to lure them away from Camp Half-Blood and leave it vulnerable.

She told them about the fight on the ship and how Annabeth had died protecting them. By the time they realized what was happening, it was too late. When they finally made it back, camp had already been overrun. The words were heavy. They hung in the air long after she finished.

Clarisse broke the silence, her voice rough but steady as she began to speak. "Camp didn't stand a chance once Kronos's entire army hit us," she said, her shield clanking softly as she adjusted it. "Monsters everywhere—dracaenae, telkhines, everything. More than we've ever seen before. They came in waves, and we fought like hades, but…" She paused, her gaze flicking to the ground. "A lot of us didn't make it. Chiron…" Clarisse's voice cracked for just a moment before she pushed through it. "Chiron led the defense, but even he couldn't hold them off forever. He—" She stopped, gritting her teeth and shaking her head. "He gave us time to retreat, but… he didn't make it."

Percy's eyes widened. Thalia's shoulders slumped, her face paling as the weight of the words hit her. Chiron was gone. The thought felt impossible, like a piece of their foundation had been ripped away.

"We tried to make it to Olympus," Clarisse continued, her tone hardening again. "But it's not exactly next door. Kronos's scouts hit us every step of the way. A lot of us didn't even make it here. If it weren't for Beckendorf and his traps slowing them down, they would've gotten us all."

Beckendorf nodded grimly, the heaviness in his eyes matching the exhaustion in his posture. "It was bad," he added quietly.

Clarisse looked back at Thalia and Percy, her voice steady but lower now. "So yeah, you showing up when you did? You saved us from the worst of it. But we've got nothing left in the tank. If Kronos hits us again…" She let the sentence hang in the air, unfinished but clear.

Thalia swallowed hard, forcing herself to speak past the tightness in her throat. "We're here now," she said, her voice steady even though her chest felt hollow. "Is this… is this everyone who made it?"

Clarisse glanced around at the scattered group of demigods, her shoulders stiff. "A lot of the wounded are up on Olympus. Secondary line of defense," she said. "Anyone who could still hold a weapon stayed down here with us."

Thalia's gaze swept over the survivors. Some sat slumped against the base of the Empire State Building, their faces pale and streaked with blood and grime. A few clutched their weapons loosely, too exhausted to stand, while others paced anxiously near the edges of the group, their eyes darting down the empty streets as if expecting Kronos's forces to reappear at any moment. The tension in the air was suffocating, every movement sharp with nerves.

She turned back to Clarisse. "Take me up. I need to see how they're holding up."

Clarisse nodded without hesitation, shifting her shield onto her back. "Let's move, then."

"I'll stay down here," Nico said, stepping forward. "If Kronos's army decides to come back, someone needs to hold the line until you guys can get back here."

Thalia hesitated, but Percy spoke up first. "Be careful, Nico," he said, his voice quiet but firm.

Nico smirked faintly, though his dark eyes remained serious. "Always."

Clarisse turned to Beckendorf, her voice brisk but with a hint of something softer buried underneath. "Beckendorf, can you stay down here too? We need someone who knows how to keep things from falling apart."

Beckendorf nodded without hesitation. "Yeah, I've got it. But I don't think we're going to get attacked again any time soon."

Clarisse turned her attention to Silena, who was standing off to the side, her hand fidgeting with the hem of her armor. Her face was pale, her usual composed demeanor cracking at the edges. Clarisse's expression softened, and she stepped closer.

"Silena," Clarisse said, her tone quieter, almost gentle. "Why don't you come up with us? You've done enough down here."

Silena looked up, her eyes wide with surprise. "But… I—"

"No buts," Clarisse interrupted, her voice firm but kind. "You need a break. Let Beckendorf and the others hold the line for a while."

Silena nodded and stepped closer to the group. "Okay. Thank you," she said quietly, her voice wavering just slightly.

Clarisse gave her a small nod before turning back to Thalia and Percy. "Alright, let's move."

The elevator doors slid shut, and the hum of the ascent filled the silence. Thalia leaned against the back wall, her arms crossed, her gaze fixed on the glowing numbers above the doors. The quiet stretched thin, each of them exhausted and lost in their own thoughts.

Silena hovered near Percy, standing a little closer than necessary. Her fingers brushed the edge of her dagger hilt as her eyes flicked up to him. After a moment, she cleared her throat softly. "Thank you. For… saving me." She paused, her eyes flicking up to Percy's face before quickly adding, "I mean us."

Her cheeks flushed a deep pink as the words tumbled out, and she fidgeted with the strap of her armor, glancing at Percy like she hoped he hadn't noticed the slip.

Percy, predictably oblivious, gave her a small, polite smile. "It was a team effort," he said simply, his gaze already drifting back to the glowing numbers above the elevator doors.

Thalia caught the way Silena's blush deepened, and a sharp pang of irritation flared in her chest. She didn't blame Silena but it still sparked a possessive edge that Thalia didn't entirely bother to push aside.

Without a word, she stepped closer to Percy, slipping into the space beside him until their arms brushed. The small contact sent a faint warmth through her. Before she could think much of it, Percy shifted and took her hand in his. The gesture was unconscious and familiar. His thumb brushed lightly over her knuckles as he kept his focus on the elevator doors, completely unaware of the tension in the air.

Thalia's grip tightened around his just slightly, her expression softening as a quiet sense of reassurance settled over her. She didn't look at Silena, choosing instead to focus ahead, but the subtle warmth of Percy's hand in hers was enough to quiet the flicker of jealousy in her chest.

The elevator chimed softly as the doors slid open, Clarisse stepped out first. Thalia followed, her hand still loosely clasped in Percy's.

Olympus stretched out before them, its streets paved with polished marble that gleamed faintly under the sky. The grand temples and towering columns were as immaculate as ever, their gilded rooftops catching the light, but the usual hum of life was missing. Instead, the city felt subdued, the usual vibrancy replaced by a quiet tension.

Minor gods moved briskly along the wide streets, their faces drawn with unease. Nymphs carried baskets of herbs and bandages, their whispered conversations fading as Thalia and the others passed. A group of satyrs stood near a fountain, their armor mismatched and weapons resting uneasily in their hands as they glanced nervously toward the elevators.

Thalia's boots clicked softly against the marble. As they rounded a corner, the infirmary came into view. Unlike the stillness of the rest of the city, this place hummed with activity. The wide, open doors revealed rows of cots lined along the walls, many of them occupied by demigods and nymphs. Healers flitted between beds, their hands glowing faintly with magic as they worked to mend cuts and burns.

The faint scent of ambrosia mixed with the sharper tang of medicinal herbs, filling the air with an oddly comforting familiarity. Thalia stepped inside, her gaze sweeping over the injured. Some were sitting up, eating or talking quietly, while others lay still, their faces pale but calm.

Thalia had barely stepped into the infirmary when she heard her name. "Thalia… Percy…"

She turned to see Michael Yew and Connor Stoll limping toward them, both looking battered and exhausted. Michael's arm was in a sling, his bow slung awkwardly over his shoulder, while Connor's face was pale and streaked with grime, his left leg bandaged heavily. They moved slowly, as if every step cost them more than they could spare.

"We thought you were dead," Michael said hoarsely, his voice raw with exhaustion. His eyes were bloodshot, dark circles shadowing his face as he stopped just short of them. "Where the Hades have you been?"

Connor's expression was tight, his usual easygoing demeanor nowhere to be found. "You were just… gone. Everyone thought…" He trailed off, swallowing hard as he shook his head. "What happened?"

Thalia hesitated for a moment before answering, her voice low but steady. "We were trying to stop Kronos," she said. "It was a trap. He lured us away."

Michael's mouth twisted into something bitter, and he gave a sharp, humorless laugh. "Figures. We don't even need to ask if you stopped him. Look around."

Connor's gaze flicked toward the rows of injured demigods, his shoulders slumping further. "We were wiped out, Thalia. At Camp… getting here. It wasn't a battle. It was slaughter."

Thalia's throat tightened as she looked at Michael and Connor, both of them beaten down in ways that weren't just physical. She drew in a slow breath, forcing herself to speak past the knot in her chest. "I'm sorry. I should've been here. I… we thought we were stopping him, thought we were making it better."

Neither of them said anything. Michael's gaze dropped to the floor, his shoulders sagging, while Connor's hands fidgeted at his sides. For a moment, it seemed like they might speak, but instead, they just turned and shuffled back toward the cots they'd come from, their movements slow and heavy with exhaustion.

Thalia stayed where she was, watching them go, the weight of their silence settling in her chest. She clenched her jaw, forcing herself to push the guilt down, but it lingered, gnawing at the edges of her resolve.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught movement across the room. A young Hunter of Artemis lay on one of the cots, her arm wrapped in thick bandages. Her face was pale, her usually sharp features dulled by pain and fatigue. She stared blankly at the ceiling, unmoving except for the faint rise and fall of her chest.

Thalia's stomach twisted, the sight hitting her harder than she expected. She didn't need anyone to tell her how bad it had been—this one image said it all. Her fists tightened at her sides as she turned to Clarisse, who stood nearby.

"Where are the others?" Thalia asked, her voice low but tense.

Clarisse's expression darkened, her jaw tightening as she folded her arms. "Most of them are gone. The few who made it are patrolling Olympus now. Someone has to keep this place standing."

Thalia's gaze lingered on the injured Hunter. The girl looked so young, too young, and the bandages wrapped around her arm told a story that Thalia didn't need to hear to understand.

She tore her eyes away, but the image stuck, a bitter reminder of what wasn't here—what she had taken away. If she hadn't brought Annabeth with her, if Annabeth had stayed with her Hunters instead of following her into that doomed mission…

Thalia clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. Annabeth had trusted her. She had followed her, believed in her plan, and it had cost her everything. Annabeth wasn't just missing from the Hunters now—she was gone. Forever. And the Hunters she'd left behind had needed her, needed their lieutenant, their guide. Instead, Thalia had pulled her away, straight into Kronos's trap.

Her stomach churned, the gnawing guilt clawing its way up and threatening to overwhelm her. She turned toward Percy, her voice breaking the silence before she could stop herself. "This is all my fault," she said, the words quiet but trembling with conviction.

Percy turned to her, his expression shifting from exhaustion to concern. "Thalia—"

"No," she cut him off, shaking her head as the words tumbled out in a rush. "It's all my fault. Everything. I wasn't here when Camp needed me. I wasn't here for Chiron. I wasn't here for them, for any of them—" Her voice cracked, but she pushed through it. "And Annabeth… Annabeth is gone because of me. The Hunters needed her, and I took her away. It's all my fault."

"You think you're the only one who feels that way?"

Thalia glanced at him, her brows knitting together.

"I wasn't there for Chiron either," Percy said, his gaze dropping to the floor. "Or the others at camp. And Annabeth…" His throat tightened, but he forced himself to continue. "I should've done something different. I should've seen what Kronos was planning. I should've protected her 've both made choices, Thalia. And yeah, maybe some of them were wrong, but it wasn't just you. It was me too."

Percy's voice trailed off, and for a moment, he simply stood there, his gaze fixed on the floor. "I just… need to be alone for a bit," he said quietly, his voice strained but resolute. He didn't look up, his words carrying the weight of everything he'd seen, everything he'd done. "It's a lot. All of it."

Thalia opened her mouth to respond but stopped herself. There was something in the way he spoke, in the way his posture drooped, that told her he wasn't looking for reassurance. He wasn't looking for anything, really. He just needed space.

She nodded, though he still wasn't looking at her. "Alright," she said softly. "Take whatever time you need."

Percy hesitated, his fingers twitching at his sides as if waging an internal battle. Then, without warning, he reached out and pulled her into a brief hug. It wasn't tight or desperate, but the warmth of it settled something deep in her chest.

"I'll be back," he murmured, his voice low but steady, his breath brushing against her temple. "Promise."

Thalia let her eyes close for a moment, her arms returning the embrace. The gesture spoke louder than words, grounding her even as the knot in her chest refused to fully ease. When he pulled back, his hand lingered for just a second on her arm before he turned away.

She watched as Percy walked to the infirmary doors, his steps slow but deliberate, and exhaled as he disappeared from view. Even after he was gone, her gaze lingered, her thoughts churning despite her best efforts to settle them. The hum of the infirmary buzzed around her, distant and muffled against the weight pressing on her chest.

"Thalia," Clarisse's voice cut through the noise, blunt but not harsh.

Thalia turned to see Clarisse approaching, wiping her hands on a rag streaked with blood and grime. She had just finished speaking to one of the injured demigods, her expression a mix of exhaustion and determination.

"You look like hades," Clarisse said flatly, crossing her arms. "You should get some rest."

Thalia frowned, shaking her head. "I'm fine."

Clarisse raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "You're about to keel over, Grace. And don't give me the 'I'm fine' routine. We need you standing when Kronos gets here, not passing out from exhaustion."

Thalia clenched her jaw, ready to argue, but Clarisse didn't give her the chance. She glanced over her shoulder and raised her voice. "Silena! Come here a second."

Silena, who had been tending to a satyr with a bandaged leg across the room, looked up at the sound of her name. She hurried over, her hands still dusted with the faint smell of healing herbs, and stopped beside Clarisse.

"What's up?" Silena asked..

Clarisse jerked a thumb toward Thalia. "Take her to one of the rooms we've been crashing in. She needs rest."

Silena's brow furrowed, glancing at Thalia, who was already scowling. "I said I'm fine," Thalia said again, the protest sounding weaker than before.

"Yeah, sure," Clarisse said with a dry smirk. "And I'm Aphrodite's favorite daughter. Killing that Drakon must have taken a lot out of you. Go on, Silena. Make sure she actually sits down for once."

Silena hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Come on," she said, tilting her head toward the exit.

Thalia sighed but didn't argue this time, falling into step beside her. The cool air of Olympus hit them as they stepped out of the infirmary. The streets stretched out ahead, quieter than they should have been.

Silena walked a little ahead, leading the way down the polished marble path. The distant murmur of minor gods and nymphs reached them from side streets, but no one stopped to speak.

As they walked, the silence stretched between them until Silena spoke. "I, um… I overheard you talking to Connor and Michael earlier," she said hesitantly. "About Kronos. About how it was a trap."

Thalia exhaled, barely nodding. "Yeah."

Silena hesitated. "I didn't realize… that's what you were doing. That you really thought you could stop him."

Thalia scoffed under her breath, shaking her head. "I thought I could save Luke," she admitted, her voice quieter than before. "That if I got to him before it was too late, I could pull him back. That maybe he wasn't completely gone. Turns out, I was wrong."

Silena was quiet for a moment, as if weighing something. Then, her voice barely above a whisper, she said, "I get it."

Thalia glanced at her skeptically, but didn't say anything.

Silena hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her armor. "Because… I thought the same thing," she admitted. "When Luke asked me to be a spy."

Thalia stopped mid-step, her breath catching. "What?"

Silena kept walking, though her gaze stayed fixed ahead. "It was a while ago," she continued, her voice softer now, like she was ashamed to say it out loud. "He came to me himself. Told me that things were going to change, that the gods didn't deserve our loyalty. That I could help build something better."

She swallowed hard. "And I almost believed him."

Thalia stared at her, but Silena just shook her head. "I told him no," she said quickly. "But not right away. Because for a second, I thought… maybe he wasn't completely gone. Maybe the Luke I knew was still in there, trying to do the right thing in his own way." She let out a bitter laugh, glancing down. "And if things had been just a little different, if he had pushed just a little harder… maybe I would've said yes."

Her fingers curled into fists. "That's the part that scares me. Because I get it, Thalia. Wanting to believe in him. Wanting to think that maybe, if we just held on long enough, he'd come back to us."

Thalia exhaled, her voice quiet but certain. "Maybe we were both hoping for something that was never there."

Silena didn't respond, and neither of them slowed as they kept walking.

After a few turns, they reached a small, unassuming house nestled between towering structures. It wasn't as extravagant as the temples or palaces, but it blended seamlessly into Olympus's grandeur—white stone walls, a sloping terracotta roof, pillars framing the entrance like something out of an ancient painting.

Silena stopped at the doorway, pressing her hand lightly against it. "This is it," she said, glancing back at Thalia. "It's empty. Should be quiet."

Thalia eyed the building, exhaustion settling deeper into her bones now that the promise of rest was right in front of her. The place looked untouched, like it had been waiting for someone to step inside.

Without a word, she followed Silena through the door. Inside, the air was cool and still, untouched by the chaos of the war below.

Silena walked a few steps ahead, glancing around before turning back to Thalia. "Take your time," she said gently. "Beckendorf was right—I don't think Kronos is going to hit us again right away. Not after the last attack."

Thalia nodded absently, stepping toward one of the simple beds pushed against the wall. She sat down, resting her elbows on her knees, rubbing a hand over her face. Now that she had stopped moving, the weight of everything settled over her like a heavy cloak.

Silena turned to leave, her footsteps quiet against the stone. She reached the doorway but hesitated, glancing back. "You know," she said, her voice softer, more thoughtful. "Percy's lucky to have you."

Thalia lifted her head slightly, frowning. "What?"

Silena smiled faintly, but there was something knowing in her expression. "It's in the way you look at him. The way you stand by him, even when everything is falling apart. I don't think you even realize it, but… you hold him together."

Thalia didn't respond, but Silena didn't seem to expect her to. She just gave a small nod, like she had already known the answer, and stepped outside, the door clicking shut behind her.

For a long moment, Thalia just sat there, staring at the empty doorway. She had spent this whole time thinking that Percy was the one holding her together. That through everything—the war, the prophecy, the losses—he had been the one keeping her steady.

It hadn't occurred to her, not once, that she had been doing the same for him.

She exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand over her face before finally lying back on the cot. The exhaustion that had been clawing at her finally settled in.

But rest never came. Thalia stared at the ceiling for what must have been a long time, her mind drifting in and out of empty thought, the silence of the room thick and unmoving. She felt the weight of everything pressing down on her, but rest remained just out of reach.

Then, the noise started.

A faint hum, uneven and distant, like the air itself was stretching. It pulsed, rising and falling, layered with a soft crackling, almost like static but deeper, more unstable. It wasn't coming from inside—it was behind the building.

She sat up, frowning. The hum deepened, vibrating through the walls, sending a strange pressure through her chest.

Thalia exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down her face. "So much for a rest," she muttered.

She pushed herself to her feet and made her way to the door, stepping out into the open air. Behind the building, a small garden stretched out, its stone pathways winding through patches of wildflowers and overgrown ivy. The charged feeling in the air made her skin prickle.

Then she saw it.

Just ahead, the space near the far wall of the garden was… wrong. The air shimmered like heat rising off asphalt, distorting the space around it, curling inward like something was trying to force its way through. The hum grew louder, pulsing now.

The distortion flickered. Widened.

Then, without warning, a figure tumbled through.

Thalia's breath caught as the person hit the ground hard, motionless for a moment before they stirred. Blonde hair, tangled and streaked with dust. A face she knew better than her own.

Thalia staggered back, her heartbeat slamming against her ribs.

The distortion behind them flickered, pulsed—then snapped shut, leaving nothing but still air in its place.

The name formed in her mind before she could stop it, before she could convince herself this wasn't a trick.

"Annabeth?"