Epilogue

Severance Arc V

The Hunters never asked why their camp always seemed to settle close to New York. When Percy moved to San Francisco years later, their camp moved as well. No one questioned it. Artemis never commented. And Thalia never explained.

When the wars ended and the world settled into an uneasy peace, Percy got to live the life he'd never thought he'd have. He built a home. A family. He grew older, wiser. But the dangers never truly left. And neither did she.

The years blurred, but Thalia stayed. Always watching from the edges, always a shadow just beyond Percy's notice. There was the morning he went for a run along the wooded trails near his home, his headphones in, his mind elsewhere. He didn't see the glowing eyes that tracked him from the tree line. Thalia did. The monster never made it past the first lunge—her arrow found its mark, and by the time Percy slowed, the only sign of the threat was the black dust scattering in the wind.

There was the winter morning he stepped onto his front porch, breath misting in the crisp air. The snow on the lawn lay mostly undisturbed—except for a jagged swath of churned ice near the hedges. Splintered branches. A faint, dark smear on the frost. He squinted at the window and noticed shallow gouges etched into the wooden frame, as though claws had scraped there in frustration. Percy frowned, running a hand through his hair, then shook his head and went back inside. Hours earlier, beneath a sky thick with stars, Thalia had stood, dagger flashing as she clashed with the creature that had tried to pry open Percy's window. The monster had died with a hiss, dissolving into the snow.

And then there was the storm that wasn't supposed to hit San Francisco that one weekend. The forecast had promised clear skies and mild winds. But by morning, dark clouds rolled in, rain falling in unrelenting sheets. Percy stood on his porch, phone in hand, frowning at the sudden shift. He muttered something about rescheduling the cabin trip and went back inside.

High on a ridge overlooking the city, Thalia stood, hair damp from the storm she'd summoned. The Hunters had tracked the monsters days ago, nesting deep in the woods Percy had planned to visit. Too many. Too dangerous. The storm had been safer. Simpler. She lingered for one last glance toward the distant house, before turning away.

Thalia kept her distance. She was careful. She never crossed the line into something reckless, something that might break the oath that defined her existence. But she stayed close enough to make sure he was safe.

The moments blurred together, time melting into a quiet rhythm of near-misses and unseen battles. She told herself it wasn't about him. The world was dangerous; monsters were always on the move. The Hunters followed the currents of that danger wherever it led them—whether it was across oceans, through cities, or, more often than not, to the places Percy Jackson called home. It was just strategy, she told herself. Just instinct, nothing more. The familiar pull toward his shadow wasn't personal—it was practical.

She told herself a lot of things.

Time passed. Monsters came. Percy fought the ones he saw. Thalia killed the ones he didn't.

It happened years later, on a quiet summer evening in their suburban neighborhood, where the woods bordered the edge of the park down the street. A little girl with blonde hair—his daughter—wandered too close to the edge of a forest where a hellhound crouched low, muscles coiled to strike. She never saw the danger. She never knew how close the fangs had come.

But Thalia did. And in the blink of an eye, the creature fell, its body collapsing into dust before it could ever touch the girl.

Percy found her moments later, kneeling in the grass, staring at something unseen. He frowned, scanning the tree line. Something about the air felt different, charged, but there was nothing there. No monster. No threat. Just a quiet that hummed with something he couldn't place.

His daughter looked up at him, brow furrowed. "Did you see the lady?" she asked, voice full of innocent wonder.

Percy crouched beside her. "What lady?"

"The one with the bow."

A beat of silence. Percy glanced at the trees again, but they were empty.

"No, kiddo," he said gently. "There's no one here."

The girl only shrugged, as if it didn't matter. "She was pretty. And she smiled at me."

Percy's heart stuttered, but he pushed the feeling aside, shaking his head with a small smile. "C'mon," he said. "Let's get home."

As they walked away, high above in the trees, Thalia watched them go.

Her fingers curled around the string of her bow, tension she hadn't noticed slipping from her shoulders. She let out a slow breath, her electric blue eyes lingering on the spot where Percy had stood. Where his daughter had looked and seen her.

A soft smile ghosted over her lips.

They rounded a corner, vanishing from sight, but Thalia kept her gaze fixed on the empty path. Percy's laughter drifted through the air, and her smile lingered, soft and unwavering.

The sun dipped lower on the horizon, casting long shadows and bathing the world in gold. Thalia lifted her face to the fading light, closed her eyes, and breathed it in.

Percy's laughter had faded into the distance, but its echo lingered—steady, alive. Deep in her chest was peace. Not because she was living the life she once imagined, but because Percy was living the life he deserved. The one she had given him.

Her fingers brushed the empty space on her wrist. The bracelet was gone. The future that could have been was gone. But Percy was here. Living, laughing, safe.

The wind stirred, carrying the last notes of his voice. Thalia opened her blue eyes, steady and clear. Percy's world would keep turning. And from the edges, she would watch over him. Always.

New Author's Note

And that's a wrap!

Part of me still can't believes that this story is over. To everyone who made it this far, thank you—seriously, thank you. It means the world that you took an interest in this story and stuck with me through Thalia's journey. Writing this has been a journey of is own. It's been six months of late nights, random bursts of inspiration, and bouts of writers block. I started this fic on a whim, just the basic premise with nothing else planned after, and it turned into this multiverse/time travel tragic. I hope it has been as fun for you to read as it was for me to write.

The ending, I think, says a lot about where I'm at right now: things aren't necessarily happy, but it is alright. The world keeps spinning, everyone is still breathing, and there's this quiet strength in how Thalia finds fulfillment despite her circumstances. I've been in a similar headspace lately: not everything's happy, but there's still something worth holding onto. Maybe some of you feel that too, wherever you're at in your own lives. I'd like to think this story might meet you there, in that messy, imperfect space.

For those wondering where the authors notes and review responses went the second half of the story: I had finished the story in advance and one day decided to just upload the remaining chapters all at one time.

Big thanks to everyone who's been along for the ride—readers, commenters, lurkers, all of you. Special shoutout to those have been engaged since they discovered this story: anaklusosdude16, KaidoFett, merendinoemiliano, blendbeast, and of course SD2901. It's been fun engaging with everybody as this story progressed.

I hope this story gave you something, whether it was a laugh, a tear, or just a way to pass the time.

Take care.

-pjowriter.