When I said I was going to rewrite this, I genuinely expected hate. I thought I'd wake up to a bunch of reviews flaming me.
Instead, I see a dozen or so reviews saying how much they respected my decision, loved this work, and couldn't wait for the rewrite.
So from the bottom of my heart, thank you all.
CHAPTER ONE: ASH AND DUST
Let me tell you a story.
Many, many years ago, there was a boy. A boy who should never have been born, a boy with unfathomable power, a boy fated to save or destroy Western Civilization as we knew it.
A boy named Percy Jackson.
When he was twelve, he fought his way to the underworld, dueled with the god of war, and returned to Zeus the strongest weapon of Olympus - the Master Bolt. All of Olympus watched with held breath - but none more than Artemis. Why? She didn't quite know herself.
At thirteen years of age, Percy sailed the Sea of Monsters, fought creatures only seen in legend, and retrieved the Golden Fleece. The moon shone, glittering over the sea.
Percy was only fourteen when he held the sky up for Artemis. She watched the boy, the man with determination she had never seen before.
He was fifteen years old when he faced the Titan Lord Kronos and his monstrous army. He journeyed to the labyrinth, navigated its treacherous maze, and thwarted the Titan's plans to rise again.
Yet, no matter the victory, no matter the triumph, fate had other plans.
At sixteen, Percy Jackson led the defence of the bloodiest assault in Olympian history - the Battle of Manhattan. The clash was devastating, the sky blackened by smoke and fire, as demigods and monsters, gods and Titans battled for control of the world. Percy fought with a bravery that became legend, fueled by the Curse of Achilles, but even he could not forestall the inevitable.
In the wake of the battle, as the dust settled and the echoes of war faded, Kronos emerged victorious. The world was reshaped under his iron rule.
Typhon was sent to Tartarus, but not before severely weakening the gods.
The remaining gods fled, some being forced to serve the Titans, their power twisted and their spirits broken. Some still fought - Poseidon, for example, remained fighting in the remnants of Pontus' realm - the depths of the sea. Some, like Hestia, like some minor gods, simply went missing.
And so, when Kronos finally returned to claim his empire, the gods were all but gone.
The sixth age of man had begun.
Percy, the boy who had defied the gods, Titans, and even fate, vanished. Some said he was lost to the world, others that he was taken by the Titans to be broken in their dungeons.
But whispers of his return began to stir in the shadows, hinting at a power that could threaten the iron grip of the new regime.
The world had fallen - yet, in the desolate remnants of civilization, there were rumors - whispers of a wandering demigod who still carried a spark of rebellion.
THE LAST HUNT
The world had changed.
Percy saw it in the twisted wreckage of cities, in the ashen skies that no longer promised rain but only storms. The air was thick with the scent of burnt offerings - bitter and pungent, a reminder of the sacrifices made in vain.
The once-glorious monuments of civilization were now crumbling ruins, haunted by the ghosts of those who had fought and fallen. Buildings were crumbling, overrun by nature. And in the distance, looming over the horizon like a dark sentinel, was Mount Olympus, its peak shrouded.
It had been three years since the Battle of Manhattan, three years since Kronos had emerged victorious. Percy had seen the world crumble, had felt the weight of his own failure every time he looked at the twisted remains of what once was. The Titans had reclaimed their thrones, the gods had been broken and bound, and the age of man had all but ended.
Percy kept to the shadows as he moved through the ruins of what had once been Chicago. The city was eerily silent, its streets empty save for the occasional patrol of skeletal warriors or monstrous sentinels. The Titan Kronos had ensured that no corner of the earth was safe for those who defied him. But Percy had grown used to the danger; he had learned to navigate this new world with a quiet, deadly precision.
He wandered through the shards of Chicago, his footsteps grinding through what once made up the heart of a thriving city. Above stretched an oppressive canopy of gray, filled with clouds promising nothing but more storms and despair. What was once a city was now largely a ghost of its former self: a sprawling ruin where nature had begun to reclaim its territory with an eerie determination.
Many formerly grand skyscrapers stood as hollowed shells, their steel bones exposed to the elements, their windows shattered, and overgrown vines crawled up their sides like reaching fingers. Some stood the test of time, but not many. Streets that had once been filled with the ceaseless hum of traffic and pedestrians' laughter fell silent but for far-off, mournful howls of wind. Abandoned cars, their paint faded and rusted off the body, littered the ground; many were overturned or smashed, contributing to a scene of utter desolation.
The air hung thick with mingling decay, of ash and dust, ever there to remind one of the devastation that had ripped through the world. Percy moved with the practiced stealth of someone who had spent years evading danger.
He passed buildings that had once been grand, now crumbling, their faces defaced with graffiti that spoke of a mad world. The remnants of billboards still clung to walls, their colors faded but their messages still legible - a cruel reminder of times when hope was a commodity sold to the highest bidder.
Are you happy? was written in red spray paint on a brick wall. Percy laughed, but there was no joy behind it. He wasn't.
His eyes locked onto the skeletal remains of a Ferris wheel, its rusted metal frame jutting out from a park that had long since fallen into disrepair. The Ferris wheel now stood silent over the ruin that consumed everything it had once celebrated.
He remembered when this city came alive, its energy defining it, and now it was a ghost of what once was.
His mom had taken him to Chicago once - but she never would again. He blinked the tears away. She'd been gone for years, but it never got easier. Nothing really did.
The deaths - Beckendorf, Silena, Luke, Thalia. All the unnamed demigods who had fell during the Siege of Manhattan.
Grover, Annabeth, Nico. He hadn't seen them since the battle. Percy hoped they were alive, but hope didn't chang reality.
Percy had been learning to tread this new reality carefully; any corner, any alleyway could become an ambush.
Despite the cold that had started to seep through his bones and the exhaustion that seemed to weigh him down, Percy pushed forward. He was in search of something - anything - to give him a lead on the rebels he had heard about or just some light in the darkness.
His mind seethed with anger, regret, and a will not to be defeated by what the world had been turned into. He was the prophesied child - but he had let Olympus fall.
His feet took him through the streets, but a tap on the back of his neck - the nagging feeling that the world wasn't actually as people-free as it seemed - kept him on edge.
Faintly, muffled, and distorted by the broken cityscape, the sounds of battle drifted through the air - a grim reminder that this struggle was far from over. Probably a monster, he thought.
The comforting weight of Percy's grip over Riptide to his side reminded him of old strengths, battles fought. Still, the sword proved a reminder of his burden, the weight of expectation, and memories of the haunting world that had once been filled with light.
He pushed on, perhaps given momentum by the flicker of hope that somewhere in this desolate wasteland was a chance to turn the tide, to reclaim some semblance of the world that had been lost. The city of Chicago stretched before him, ruinous and desolate. Amidst devastation, Percy moved with single-minded purpose to find whatever hope or resistance lay hidden in the ruins.
He paused at the edge of an alleyway, his senses sharp, attuned to any sign of movement. The mist was now thin and unreliable. The world was raw and exposed, and the monsters that once lurked in the shadows now roamed freely. But they were not his concern - not today. He had other matters to attend to.
In the distance, the faint glow of a campfire flickered from inside a derelict building. Percy's eyes narrowed. He'd heard the rumors - whispers of a small group of rebels hiding in the city, remnants of the demigod camps that had been scattered in the aftermath of Kronos' victory. Most of them had been captured or killed, but some still clung to the hope of resistance, even in the face of certain death. At least, that was what he had heard. What he had hoped.
Hope was a dangerous thing in a world like this.
But Percy had learned that it was also the only thing that kept him moving, kept him from succumbing to the darkness that threatened to consume him. He had nothing left to lose, nothing left to fight for - except the slim chance that he could make a difference, even now.
He approached the building cautiously, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. Riptide, the weapon that had once been a symbol of hope, now felt like a heavy burden - a reminder of the past and the lives that had been lost. But Percy still carried it, still wielded it, because it was all he had left of the boy he used to be.
He remembered the prophecy - the one that had defined his life. Hero's soul cursed blade shall reap.
His sword might as well have been cursed, and it was, wasn't it? Percy scoffed.
The inside of the building was dark and musty, the air thick with dust and decay. Percy moved silently through the shadows, his eyes adjusting to the dim light. He could hear voices - soft, tense murmurs - from a room at the end of the hallway. He crept closer, listening.
"...can't stay here much longer. We need to move."
"And go where? Kronos has ordered us to retrieve him. You know the…"
"… sure he's even alive?"
The voices were familiar. Percy felt a pang of recognition, a burst of bitterness and anger. He hesitated for a moment, then stepped into the doorway.
The room fell silent as the occupants turned to face him. There were three of them - empousai.
The empousai leader's eyes glinted with malevolent delight as she turned to face Percy. "Looks like it's time for a different kind of welcoming party."
Before Percy could react, the leader lunged at him, her claws slashing through the air. He dodged the attack with a swift side-step, his reflexes honed from countless battles. The empousai's claws missed him by inches, and Percy could feel the rush of air as they passed.
He jumped back, drawing Riptide. "No hello? How rude."
His voice was scratchy from disuse, he noted idly.
The empousai snarled, but Percy took the opportunity to lunge at her and punch her in the gut. The she-demon doubled over.
One of the other empousai, a smaller figure with a cruel grin, attacked from the side, her fangs bared. Percy spun to face her, blocking her advance with Riptide. The blade met her claws with a clang, sparks flying from the impact. Percy pushed her back with a powerful thrust, forcing her to stumble.
The third empousai circled around, her eyes locked onto Percy. He could sense her preparing to strike, her movements serpentine as she glided toward him. Percy kept his attention divided, fighting off the smaller empousai while keeping an eye on the other two.
The leader attacked again, her claws coming down in a vicious arc. Percy barely managed to block the strike, the force of it nearly knocking him off balance. He retaliated with a quick swipe of Riptide, catching her across the shoulder. She hissed in pain but didn't falter.
Percy's eyes flicked to the corner of the room, where the flickering light of the campfire illuminated the shadows. He could hear the sounds of battle growing louder outside - they had company.
The smaller empousai lunged at Percy once more, but this time he was ready. He sidestepped her attack, bringing Riptide up in a swift arc that caught her across the chest. She cried out and staggered back, her form momentarily blurred as she tried to regain her balance.
The third empousai used the distraction to her advantage, darting in with a sharp, whiplike strike aimed at Percy's side. He twisted, the attack grazing his ribs. Pain flared, but he gritted his teeth and forced himself to focus.
The leader, her red eyes burning with fury, charged at Percy again, her claws extended. Percy met her attack head-on, their weapons clashing in a flurry of steel and claws. The empousai leader was relentless, her strikes coming faster and more furiously.
But Percy was better.
The leader's claws slashed across his arm, drawing blood. Percy gritted his teeth against the pain, determined not to fall. He stabbed at her side.
With a sudden burst of energy, Percy stamped his feet, channeling the more destructive powers of his father - the Earthshaker.
As the empousai stumbled, he took advantage of it, driving Riptide into the leader's side. She roared in pain, stumbling back. Percy took the opportunity to regroup, his breath coming in harsh gasps as he surveyed the battlefield.
The smaller empousai was still recovering from his earlier attack, and the third was circling warily, waiting for a chance to strike. Percy knew he had to end this quickly. He couldn't afford to be caught off guard with Kronos' forces closing in.
With a final surge, Percy charged at the leader, Riptide flashing in the dim light. The empousai leader met his attack with a snarl, her claws slashing through the air. Their weapons clashed, and for a moment, the room was filled with the sounds of battle - the clash of steel, the hiss of claws, and the cries of something going on outside.
Percy pushed through the exhaustion, his focus narrowed on the leader. With a powerful swing, he drove Riptide into her side, his blade slicing through her defenses. She let out a piercing scream, momentarily writhing as the blade found its mark.
The leader fell back, her eyes wide with shock and pain. Percy stood over her, his breath ragged, his body aching. He watched as she fell, slowly crumbling into dust.
On of the empousai had retreated, running in the face of their leader's defeat.
For a moment, the room was silent, save for the distant sounds of battle. Percy's heart pounded in his chest as he surveyed the scene, his mind racing. He had won this fight, but the danger was far from over. Kronos' forces were closing in, and he needed to move quickly.
He turned to the remaining empousai, who were watching him. "If you want to live," he said, his voice cold, "get out of here. Now."
The empousai hesitated, but the fear in her eyes was evident. She retreated, disappearing into the shadows. Percy watched her go, his mind still reeling from the battle.
Percy took a deep breath.
He turned toward the doorway, the sounds of battle outside growing louder.
With a final glance at the ruined room, Percy stepped into the night, only to see a slew of dead bodies. They weren't human, he could tell - these were Nereids.
What were river spirits doing in Chicago?
His question was answered as he saw a young woman with auburn hair and silvery eyes holding two hunting knives, slick with ichor. His first thought was hey, she's kinda hot.
His second thought was hold on, I recognise her!
Percy's final thought was she's probably the one who killed the Nereids.
And Percy didn't think he wasn't lucky enough to be encountering a friendly face in this grim reality.
The young woman's eyes locked onto Percy, and he could see the fierceness in her gaze. The Nereids lay scattered around her, their forms slowly dissolving into the shadows. It was clear she had fought a brutal fight.
Percy immediately recognised her. She was older, sure, but the silver eyes and auburn hair gave it away. Artemis.
"Um, hi?"
She ignored him, electing to start wiped the blood from her blades with a practiced motion, her gaze never leaving Percy.
She seemed to be waiting for him to make the first move.
Percy took a step back, his eyes narrowing as he took in the sight before him. The young woman was definitely Artemis, older, more battle-worn, but unmistakable. Her silver eyes gleamed, and the way she moved was all too familiar. The Nereids scattered around her were evidence enough of her prowess.
But this? This was different. There was something darker, something raw in her eyes that hadn't been there before. Percy's heart skipped a beat as he tried to process the sight of her, standing over the bodies of slain creatures. She didn't seem surprised to see him; if anything, it was as though she had been expecting this confrontation.
"Artemis," he said, his voice hoarse, as if testing the name, like it hadn't passed his lips in years.
Her gaze flicked to him briefly, and the intensity of it made his skin prickle. Percy couldn't decide whether it was the coldness in her eyes or the fact that she was practically daring him to speak that unsettled him the most.
"You've grown," she said at last, her voice distant and detached, but there was a hint of something else beneath it, something Percy couldn't place. "But you still wear the burden of a man who failed his gods."
He swallowed hard, her words cutting deeper than he expected. "I was a child! A child who was failed by my gods."
Artemis simply sighed.
"What do you want from me, Artemis?" His voice was steady, but his mind was whirling, fighting the urge to back away, to escape.
Her eyes flicked to the fallen Nereids again, her expression unreadable. "What I want doesn't matter," she said. "You were always the one destined to turn the tide. The gods are gone, Perseus. They're either dead or lost, and now all we have is this broken world."
Percy's chest tightened at her words. The world, yes, it was broken. It had been for years. But hearing her speak of it with such finality... It stung more than he'd expected. His mind reeled with memories, the Battle of Manhattan, the promises, the losses. Had he really failed them all?
He stepped forward, the sound of his boots scraping against the cracked asphalt almost too loud in the stillness of the ruined city. "And you? What are you doing here, Artemis? Hunting Nereids in Chicago? Or is this your new way of surviving - just killing anything you can find?"
The words left his mouth before he could stop them, but he didn't regret them. He knew Artemis. Knew her pride, her coldness, her devotion to the hunt above all else. But there was something wrong here. She wasn't the goddess he remembered.
Her gaze snapped back to him, and for a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. "You don't understand," she said, her voice tight now, though her composure remained largely unchanged. "I don't hunt to survive. I hunt because there's nothing else left to do." Her hand, holding the blades, trembled slightly, but only enough for Percy to notice.
Percy's heart pounded. He had never seen Artemis like this. Not the goddess of the hunt, not the eternal archer - this Artemis was someone different. Someone scarred. Someone who had lost as much as he had.
Her eyes flickered with something akin to amusement. "You ask a lot of questions for someone in a dangerous situation. But I suppose it's fair - curiosity can be a valuable trait."
"Thanks, I think?"
"Although curiosity killed the cat, did it not?"
Percy felt the need to point out the obvious. "You didn't answer my question."
Artemis sighed.
"You never liked answering questions, did you?" Percy muttered under his breath, but Artemis heard him nonetheless. Her lips twitched slightly, a ghost of a smile flickering on her face before vanishing as quickly as it had appeared.
"Not when the answers don't matter," she said quietly, lowering her blades and staring at the horizon, her gaze distant once more. "The world is broken, Percy. It's too late for questions. The answers... they don't matter anymore."
Percy clenched his fists, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. He had always believed that answers were what mattered most. They were the key to understanding, to fixing things. He had always had to ask the questions, he didn't know how to stop now.
"You're wrong," he said firmly. "As long as there's breath in us, the questions always matter. If we don't ask, then we'll never know. If we don't try to make sense of what happened, then it'll keep happening."
Artemis's eyes flicked to him again, sharper now, her gaze searching. "You've always been an idealist, Perseus. But the world isn't kind to idealists. It's cruel and unyielding."
"And you think I don't know that?" Percy shot back, his voice rising. "I've seen it. I've lived it. The gods turning their backs. The battles lost. People I cared about dying because they thought they could fight for something better."
Artemis took a step toward him, her expression cold, but her voice low and almost... tired. "Then why are you still here, asking questions like this is something you can fix? The gods are dead or gone, Percy. There's no war to win. No prophecy to fulfill. There's just... survival."
Percy's chest tightened, her words sinking in, but he wasn't ready to accept them. Not yet. "Survival isn't enough. I refuse to believe that."
She held his gaze for a long moment, her silver eyes unreadable, before finally speaking again. "I never wanted to be like this," she whispered, more to herself than to him. "I wanted to protect the world. But when the world falls apart, you either fall with it, or you learn to be something else. Something... harder."
Percy's mind raced, piecing together the pieces of Artemis's words, her actions. There was something wrong with her, something deeper than just the loss of the gods. What happened to you? he thought, but the words stayed lodged in his throat.
"You're not the same," he said quietly. "And neither am I."'
Her eyes softened just a fraction, but she didn't say anything in response. Instead, she looked back to the horizon.
"We've both changed," she said, almost too softly. "And maybe... maybe we have no choice but to keep changing."
The silence that followed wasn't comfortable, but it wasn't hostile either. Percy stood there, watching her, wondering how things had come to this. How had the gods and their heroes fallen so far?
Finally, Artemis spoke again. "You asked what I want, Perseus. The answer is simple. I want this world to end, before it drags us all into its decay." She paused, then added, almost as an afterthought, "But if you want to try fixing it, I'll follow."
Percy's heart skipped a beat at her words. Follow? Was she asking for help? Or was this her way of saying she would use him as a pawn in whatever this hunt had become?
"I'm not here to survive, Artemis," Percy said, his voice low but firm. "I'm here to make this world one worth living in again. But I'll fight with you. For now. But we need a plan. We can't just wait for the world to fall apart any more than we can wait for it to fix itself."
Artemis tilted her head slightly, as though considering his words. "You're stubborn, Perseus."
"And you're a god," he shot back. "If anyone's stubborn, it's you."
"Touché."
Despite the arguing, there was a glimmer of something between them now. Not trust, not quite. But perhaps... a chance.
"You're going to die trying to do what's right."
"If that's how I die, so be it." Percy shot back. "But I won't die."
Artemis didn't even try to correct him, because she knew he believed it.
Everything had tried to kill him, everything had failed, and now Percy Jackson was just very good at killing everything, and annoyingly adept at not dying.
"You're right," she said, and this time, there was no bitterness in her tone, only the quiet resignation of someone who had seen too much. "We'll see where this goes. Together, if you insist."
Percy nodded, the weight of her words heavy on him. He didn't know what would come next, but one thing was clear.
They were going to survive in this broken world together.
The silence between them lingered, but it no longer felt like a barrier. It was just the space between two people trying to make sense of a world that no longer made sense. Two people, mortal and immortal, child of man and child of myth, who had seen far too much.
"Together?" Percy said quietly.
Artemis nodded. "Together."
One calloused hand, slightly trembling, extends towards the other, fingers brushing in the stillness before they clasp firmly.
Somewhere, the Fates laughed.
Yes, I know, I changed the whole plot. I just thought it would make much more sense to do so, plus it makes writing Artemis' character much more easy.
Once again, thank you all so much for the support. Review or PM any ideas you might have, I'm all ears!
(please review guys)
Anyway, unless i get killed by exams, I'll release a chapter soon!