Percy groaned in pain as he slowly regained consciousness. His body felt stiff and hurt all over. Try as he might, his eyes refused to open. He tried to remember how he ended up like this. He had assaulted the Tower of Terror with Artemis while Tiamat and Minotaur created a distraction. He fought Pallas and lost, but then… he… won? No. He was driving the titan back with some power boost before the power fled him and he got stabbed. After that he only had the briefest memory of Artemis standing over him. Worry was etched into those beautiful silver eyes as pain filled his being. After that was nothing but darkness.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Percy's eyes fluttered open. Revealing the Minotaur leaning over him with his snout in Percy's face. The bull released a buff of rancid air into his face. "Gah, what the-," Percy exclaimed as he scrambled backward across the bed before smashing his head against the headboard. "Son of a…" Pain rocketed through his head, and he curled into a ball on the bed, clutching head with a groan. Wait. Bed?

It would be preferable if you would refrain from your attempts to return into a coma, Kronos' voice echoed in a dry tone. The titan appeared before the demigod, sitting in a chair of dark wood. "After all, I would hate for all my efforts with you to be for nought."

Percy glared at the titan specter. "Oh, can it," he told the titan with a grimace before doubling over as his gut suddenly flared in pain. "You just don't want to get bored."

"Percy?" Artemis' voice reached his ears. Percy looked up to find the goddess rushing towards him. The goddess quickly kneeled down next to the bed and jammed open one of his eyes with her delicate fingers, examining him closely before checking other areas. "You've been unconscious for days. How do you feel?"

"Like I had my guts turned into a smoothie with a sharp sword and then was drenched in fire," quipped the demigod, unaware of just how close to the mark he was. Looking around, he could see the Minotaur in the corner of the room, divested of his arms and armor and instead wearing a tightly fitted tunic and trousers, seemingly made with some form of wool. The room itself was spartan, containing a single chair and bed made of the same black wood, while the walls were made of brown and red bricks. A fireplace burned with a green flame, a light crinkling from the logs and illuminating the room in a soft glow.

Artemis quirked an eyebrow at him. "You remember being thrown into the Phlegethon?" she asked uncertainly.

Percy shook his head. "Uh, what?" he asked, unsure if he heard her right. "What do you mean I was thrown in the river?" He then noticed that she was out of their hastily made griffon skin clothes and into something more befitting of the Middle Ages. For a man at least. He didn't think many women in the Middle Ages wore a tunic and trousers with boots. He looked down to find himself in a similar get-up. Who changed him? "Uh, what's with the get up? And where are we?"

Artemis glanced at Kronos before answering, "You've been in a coma for two weeks," she informed him. "Not even half of which was our scramble to the River Phlegethon to heal you."

Percy's eyes widened in surprise. "So, what did I miss?" he asked as he sat up, the pain slowly fading to a much more manageable throb.

Artemis was cut off by a deep growl. "So, this is the one who has caused so much trouble?" someone new spoke behind Artemis. The voice was rough and growling, but also intelligent. "I am not impressed."

"If one more person calls me unimpressive, I swear I will lose my shit," Percy muttered before looking past the goddess to find a massive figure standing at the door. The figure was as big as the Minotaur, his body covered in thick and rough black fur and covered in high quality clothes-much better than anything Percy would expect in Tartarus. His long snout was scared as was his body. The beast just stared at him with his sickly yellow eyes, seemingly unimpressed by the demigod's quipping. "What? Nothing?" Percy asked in confusion.

The beast growled in seeming annoyance. "Do you not question who I am?"

Percy shrugged. "When you've lived the life I had, you roll with the punches," he told the wolf man before slowly climbing out of bed. His gut throbbed in pain before it subsided. "Given that none of us are in chains, I can assume you are at least not threatening us at the moment."

"Hm, so you are not as foolish as we were led to believe. Good," the wolf said as he crossed his thick arms over his armored chest. "I am Nasaug, and this," he gestured to the surrounding walls, "is the Fortress Above. The seat of power for Warmaster Varg. You are his guests here, do not abuse his hospitality."

Percy shared a look with Artemis, a silent question in his eyes. She nodded. "You guys are those, Skiódes, that we have been told about, aren't you?" he asked Nasaug, knowing the answer.

Nasaug nodded. "We are but a fragment of the proud race of shadows we once were," he said, his voice hard and strained. "We are the Mikróteroi Skiódeis, the lesser of our ancestors."

"We were led to believe you were all turned into hellhounds," Percy shared, rolling out the stiffness in his limbs. It almost felt like he had all new muscles that needed to be worked some. They also felt… stronger, denser, like they were brimming with power and just waiting for him to unleash them on something, or someone. He wondered idly if this was due to his connection to Kronos. He didn't like that thought.

"Most us were converted into the mindless beasts you have encountered. However, the most powerful of us were able to preserve the last remnants of our consciousness," he explained to them, slamming a fist to his chest proudly. "We are the descendants of those who defied Night and survived our corruption."

"So…" Percy started, unsure of how to ask his question. "Were you all so… houndish, before… you know?"

Nasaug growled in what appeared to be a sneer. The skiódes turned and walked out of the room.

Percy looked to Artemis. "Was it something I said?" he asked. He watched Artemis pinch the bridge of her nose and figured it was probably him. "Hey, give me a break. I just woke up from a small coma."

Artemis finally looked at him. "Just, shut up Percy," she told him as she grabbed his wrist and led him to the door. "I'll explain more on the-." She looked down at where she grabbed his wrist. His skin was searing hot. Like she had grabbed one of Hephestus' projects straight from the furnace. "By the Fates you're hot," she muttered, though, it seemed Percy heard her as he looked at her in confusion.

Kronos chuckled from his place in the chair. "My, my, granddaughter," he spoke with laughter in his voice. "I never thought you would be so direct."

The goddess' face grew red as she let go of his wrist, the heat in her hand remaining, much to her annoyance. "That was not what I meant you no good-" she stopped as Kronos continued to cackle at her expense, completely ghosting her tirade. "Gah, never mind," she shouted before she turned and marched out of the room. Though, Percy thought he saw a hint of pink on her cheeks.

Percy remained standing, looking between his hand and the goddess. Confusion dominated his mind. "Uh, what was that?" he asked the titan lord.

Kronos smiled at him. "Don't worry about it, boy," he told the demigod. "I'll explain it to you when you are older. For now, let us leave this place. You are in desperate need to stretch your limbs, and the dog is still waiting outside."

Percy quirked an eyebrow at the titan lord as he looked to the door. "I don't think he would appreciate you calling him that," he said.

The titan shrugged. "It is not like he can hear me anyways," Kronos countered. "Also, Asterion has been getting antsy waiting for you to wake."

"Asterion?"

In answer, the Minotaur huffed and crossed his arms, his beady eyes watching Percy in annoyance. Kronos smirked, clearly having only Percy and Artemis to talk to had him looking for any form of entertainment. "He wasn't always called 'The Minotaur' Perseus. He has been watching over you since we arrived here. Prometheus may be annoying at times, but he was right to send the beast with us. His loyalty makes him a very valuable asset to us."

Percy looked to the Minotaur who stood behind him defensively. "Have you been watching over me this whole time?" he asked the beast, to which the Minotaur nodded.

Percy didn't exactly know how to respond to that, but he supposed a thanks wouldn't hurt. "Uhh... thanks Asterion." The Minotaur seemed taken aback by the use of his name, unsure of how to proceed. To save him the trouble, Percy changed the subject, "Come on, let's see what Nasaug wants."

He exited the room with the Minotaur close behind to find the large wolf standing by the wall. "Follow me," he said simply before he turned and walked down the hall. Percy shared a look with Asterion before quickly following the skiódes. As he walked, Percy noted the castle halls that stretched endlessly, their walls a tapestry of brown and red bricks, each one built with an ancient craftsmanship. The bricks, weathered by time and bearing the marks of conflicts.

Tall, arched windows lined the corridors, allowing red glow of Tartarus to filter through, casting a bloody tint upon the brickwork. The interplay of light and shadow added a dynamic quality to the space, making the walls seem alive with history and secrets. Rich tapestries adorned the walls, their vibrant colors and intricate designs standing in stark contrast to the rugged brick. The floors, made of polished stone, echoed with their footsteps. Massive wooden doors, reinforced with dark metals, punctuated the hallways. Candelabras and torches lined the walls, their flickering green flames casting a harsh, amber light.

"This place is awesome," Percy couldn't help but note as they walked the halls. Other areas he had seen, such as Olympus, might've had more grandeur, but the gothic atmosphere was breathtaking in its own right.

Nasaug turned his head, watching him with disdain. "The Fortress Above has stood for many millennia. It has repelled countless invasions and resisted the ever-deteriorating influence of Tartarus."

Percy nodded along as he walked. "Why is it called the Fortress Above? The Tower of Terror is a torture chamber, the Dark Citadel is in perpetual darkness, the Brass Fortress looks like it was made of brass," he listed off.

The skiódes gestured to the window. "See for yourself," was all he said.

Percy raised an eyebrow before approaching the massive window. His eyes widened.

Massive did not quite describe the scope of the mountains surrounding the fortress, their peaks concealed by blood red clouds. He thought the Tower of Terror was tall, but compared to these behemoths, it might as well have been a molehill. The valley plummeted below them, blanketed in black trees that looked like little broccoli from their height. Off to the side, he noticed a large winding path that came up the sides of mountains with multiple gates scattered along it.

"Ah, that makes sense," was all Percy said.

The rest of their trip through the halls was in silence as Kronos filled him in on what he had missed, from the flight from the Tower of Terror to their eventual arrival to the Fortress Above. Percy was annoyed that Kronos would call him his successor, much less force Artemis to say it. He didn't want it.

Turning down another hall, they encountered the residents of the fortress. All manner of beasts and monsters filled the halls; cyclopes, dragon women, empousa, and more, dressed similarly to himself and Asterion. They all moved about with purpose, parting before them like the sea. He watched as empousa's, wearing conservative dresses in leather shoes, ran to and from carrying trays, cleaning equipment and missives.

These monsters seemed… civil. Much more so than Percy expected in even his wildest dreams. To see so many behaving was, well, inspiring really. He had always pictured monsters as mindless brutes only worried about their next meal. There were exceptions of course but the rule was monsters were bad. Watching them now, Percy wondered how many monsters he had killed over the decades weren't really evil and just didn't have any other options. It was starting to make him a little guilty if he were honest. His mind wandered back to his adventures with Annabeth and the Monster Donuts shops. Just a bunch of monsters trying to make a life in the world.

"You could change that," Kronos told him as he appeared walking next to him. His form passing through the passerby's bodies in a very disturbing way. Percy bit back a remark, not wanting to respond to a ghost in a hallway full of monsters. "You could speak to me with your mind, Perseus."

Percy looked at the titan incredulously. "You're telling me I could have done this the whole time?" he asked in his mind.

Kronos rolled his eyes. "I am a part of your being, grandson. There is little in your mind that you can keep from me."

The demigod didn't like the sound of that. He wondered if the titan could see his memories, and his feelings. Don't tell me you are still beating that dead horse, he said, feeling strangely less weird than talking out loud to a ghost. I am not ruling anything.

"And why not? Most monsters live at the whims of the divine. Be they God, Titan, or Primordial," Kronos explained to him. "They follow their instincts because they see no other way. But it would seem this, Warmaster, has accomplished it. Look at them." He gestured to the meandering monsters, and Percy could see his meaning. He never could have imagined monsters intermingling in such a civilized manner.

And you think I could make this work for all monsters? Percy asked skeptically.

Kronos shrugged. "Who else? If this warlord could have, don't you think he would have? He doesn't have the power to conquer all of Tartarus."

And I don't even have the strength to defeat Pallas, Percy countered him, annoyed that he was even entertaining the conversation.

"You are new to my power," the titan lord stated. "Your power now. You need to train, to prepare, so that next time you meet, you will bring low the titan of warcraft. And then, you can move on to conquer all of Tartarus." His spectral form vanished, though, Percy could still feel his presence. Always.

Percy scowled, annoyed at himself for allowing the titan to entertain such notions. "Yeah, well, don't count on it," he muttered, the Minotaur glancing at him in confusion.

Nasaug led them through the crowded halls of the fortress for several more minutes before they stopped before a massive set of wooden doors reinforced with Stygian Iron. The wolf turned to Percy. "You will be before Warmaster Varg. It would be in your best interest to mind your manners. You would not be the first demigod he has killed, and he will not suffer fools." Nasaug turned and placed his hands on the door before he hesitated and turned his head. "Do not show weakness before the Warmaster. To show weakness is to invite challenge. You must project power and intelligence if you wish to survive this encounter." He then pushed the doors open.

Entering the throne room of the Fortress Above, Percy found a large, circular chamber rounded with pillars that rose to a domed ceiling. Courtiers were gathered around a wide bowl carved into the center of the chamber, a blaze of Greek fire burning within, creating flickering shadows behind the massive pillars. On the other side of the pit of fire, a massive throne of black steel sat on a raised dais, a colossal form in its seat.

Covered in thick, dark fur, the figure towered over Percy even as it sat, focusing on him with haunting yellow eyes. His razor-sharp claws dug grooves into the metal seat as he brandished the fearsome teeth set in his monstrous snout. Looking at him, the image of the legendary werewolf entered Percy's mind. A being of the night, who hunted the human race in the dark and instilled in them the fear of wolves and darkness. He idly wondered if he inspired Lycaon's punishment.

Nasaug lightly brandished his neck to the figure before bowing deeply. "Warmaster Varg, I bring to you Perseus, Successor to the Golden Throne of Othrys," he proclaimed to the gathered crowd in the throne room.

The Warmaster eyed Percy like he would a prey he would stalk. He leaned back in his throne. "Your companion invoked the Rights of Protection in your name," his voice reverberated through the air around Percy, though he appeared to be speaking normally. "By the laws of my people, I am bound by honor to host you as my guests until such time that we can negotiate the terms of your payment."

Percy sent a confused glance to Asterion, the bull man standing beside him close enough to come to his defense, but far enough to give him space. "Payment?" he began uncertainly, remembering Nasaug's words as he straightened his back. "And what payment could I offer to you?"

Varg growled, the sound piercing Percy's soul and filled it with an irrational fear. Percy shook his head. He had started down gods, titans, giants and even primordials. But something about this one was setting his nerves on edge. "Yes. What indeed," the monstrous wolf rumbled, though, Percy got the impression it was him humming. "Tell me, boy, what do you think I would need from the successor to the Mad Titan King?"

"He wants to join forces," Kronos said as he appeared between Percy and the flames.

How do you know? Percy asked quickly.

"Trust me," Kronos said urgently. "Offer him your support but do not under any circumstances offer fealty."

Percy glanced at the titan before looking back to the Warmaster with a gulp. "We share a common enemy, Tartarus. I offer you my support in defeating the primordial in exchange for your protection now."

"Your support," the Warmaster grunted. "And what support could a fledgling abomination like you give me? We found you half dead because you couldn't even defeat a titan. What good would you be against the Pit? You have no armies, no allies but those you brought with you. So, tell me, why do you think your support is worth anything."

Percy was not stupid, but he knew words were not his thing. So, as his mind went rapid fire trying to think of a response, he knew he only had one choice. He just hoped this new strength he felt was real and not imagined. "Then let me prove my worth to you," Percy said, projecting his voice outward.

Varg grinned as he heard this, a terrifying sight of teeth that appeared to be more snarl than smile. He leaned forward in his throne and interlaced his long fingers. He seemed to consider briefly before nodding. "Yes, I feel that will be the best way to test your worth," he agreed, snapping his jaws. "You wish to prove yourself worthy? Then we will see how you fair in a trial by combat." Hushed whispers filled the court as onlookers wondered how this would go.

"And if I fail?" Percy asked, slight concern filled his being though he dared not show it.

Vargas's grin widened. "Then you will die, along with your companions."