Act 3: The War and the Styx
The following summer, having just turned sixteen, the prophecy that had been haunting me since I was twelve finally came to its culmination. Kronos had completely possessed Luke's body, the titans were on the move, and our only hope was a desperate plan.
Nico di Angelo, with his perpetual "I just returned from a particularly depressing funeral" expression, proposed the craziest idea yet: to immerse myself in the River Styx to obtain the curse of Achilles.
"It's insane," Annabeth had said when I told her. "Most heroes who tried it ended up like burnt socks. Literally and metaphorically."
"Do you have a better idea?" I asked.
Her silence was all the answer I needed.
I didn't tell anyone else about my plan. Not even Diana. Especially not Diana. Something told me that, of all my immortal and semi-divine acquaintances, she would be the one to most energetically oppose my idea.
Probably with violence. Lots of violence.
That's why, when Nico and I infiltrated the Underworld to visit the River Styx, I made sure to erase any trace of our whereabouts. What I didn't know, of course, was that Diana had ways of tracking me that went beyond conventional tracking techniques.
The Styx was exactly as welcoming as you'd expect from an infernal river: black waters that smoked as if they were boiling without fire, currents of mythological trash (broken shields, rusted swords, decapitated dolls... you know, the usual), and an aroma that perfectly combined sulfur, rotten eggs, and gym socks forgotten in a locker all summer.
"Remember," said Nico, carefully keeping away from the shore, "you have to focus on your mortal point. The place that will keep you anchored to the world."
"My heel," I suggested.
Nico looked at me as if I had just suggested using a fork to eat soup. "No, Seaweed Brain. Your mortal point is metaphorical. The place that connects you to your mortal life. Something or someone that anchors you to your humanity."
"Ah," I said intelligently.
I looked at the smoking waters. I was about to immerse myself in a river that had killed countless heroes, relying solely on my "metaphorical anchor" to keep me alive. Normal. Just another day at the office for Percy Jackson.
I took a deep breath and dove in.
The pain was immediate, absolute, and completely indescribable. Imagine every cell in your body being simultaneously frozen and burned while someone tries to rip out your soul with rusty pliers. Multiply that by a thousand, and perhaps you're close.
In the midst of that agony, I began to lose myself. My consciousness was dissolving, fragmenting in the currents of the Styx. I was about to be erased, to become just another piece of mythological garbage floating eternally in the infernal waters.
And then I saw her.
It wasn't my mother, as I had expected. It wasn't Annabeth, or Grover, or anyone else.
It was Diana.
She was standing on the shore of a different river, under the silvery light of the full moon. Her white hair waved gently in the night breeze, and her changing eyes seemed to contain all the stars in the firmament. She looked at me with that mixture of exasperation and indulgence she reserved only for me.
"You're an idiot, Jackson," said her image, but her voice sounded warm, almost affectionate. "Diving into the Styx? Really? Couldn't you just buy decent armor like a normal person?"
In her hand she held the silver knife she had given me. She extended it toward me.
"Come on," she urged. "Take it. I don't have all eternity to rescue your pathetic demigod butt."
I extended my hand, feeling that each movement required the strength of Atlas holding up the sky. My fingers closed around the knife's handle and, suddenly, I felt a pull, as if Diana were using the weapon to pull me out of the river.
I emerged from the Styx with a desperate gasp, coughing up black water and trembling uncontrollably. Every part of my body hurt, but somehow, I felt stronger, more solid, more... complete.
"You did it!" exclaimed Nico, genuinely surprised. Apparently, he had bet more on the "charred sock" scenario.
I stood up, feeling a new strength pulsing in my veins. The curse of Achilles had settled in me, leaving me practically invulnerable except for one point. A point that, curiously, I could feel with perfect clarity: a spot on my lower back, right at the height of my left shoulder blade.
The point Diana had been looking at in my vision.
"May I ask," said a voice as cold as ice from the shadows, "what the hell were you thinking?"
I turned to find the real Diana, her eyes glowing with barely contained fury. I had never seen her so angry, and believe me, I had seen her angry many times.
Nico instinctively backed away, recognizing the imminent danger better than I did. "I, uh... think I'll go check if Cerberus has dug any new pits," he muttered, disappearing into the shadows faster than a mouse at a cat convention.
"I had to do it," I replied, still catching my breath. "It's the only way to face Kronos."
"The only way?" she repeated, approaching with deliberately slow steps. "The only way was to immerse yourself in the cursed river that has killed countless heroes? The only way was to acquire a curse that makes you almost invulnerable but leaves you with a weak point that any enemy with half a brain will look for?"
"Diana..."
"Don't 'Diana' me!" she exploded. "Do you have any idea how dangerous this is? Do you know what will happen if Kronos discovers your weak point?"
"No one knows it," I assured her. "Only me."
She looked at me then, something changing in her expression. Without a word, she came closer and, with disturbing precision, placed her finger exactly on my weak point. The contact sent a shiver through my entire body, not of pain, but of something much more intense and disconcerting.
"I know it," she said quietly. "I know you, Percy Jackson. Better than you know yourself sometimes."
"How...?" I began, genuinely surprised.
"Because when you emerged from the river, your soul sought an anchor," she explained, her voice now softer. "Something that would tie you to your humanity, to your mortal life. And I saw where that bond formed."
We looked at each other in silence for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, Diana removed her hand, but the sensation of her touch remained.
"If something happened to you because you decided to play the invulnerable hero..." she left the threat hanging in the air, but her eyes shone with something that went beyond anger. It was fear. Fear for me.
"Nothing will happen to me," I promised. "I'm practically indestructible now."
"Except for that point," she pointed out. "And believe me, weak points have a way of finding themselves with arrows, swords, or claws at the most inopportune moment."
"Then I guess I'll have to keep it well protected," I replied. "And trust that you'll watch my back."
The tension in her face softened slightly. "I always have, Jackson. Even when you didn't know it."
Her gaze became intense, examining me as if trying to memorize every detail. "Your anchor in the river... it was me, wasn't it?"
The question took me by surprise, not so much for its content but for the naked vulnerability in her voice.
"How did you know?" I asked instead of responding directly.
A sad smile curved her lips. "Because I can feel it. The bond. It's like... a red thread between us." She paused, and then added in a lower voice: "It's dangerous, Percy. More than you imagine."
"Why?"
Diana looked away, and for a moment she seemed much older, more tired. "Because there are rules. Ancient laws. And we are walking on a very thin edge."
I wanted to ask more, but the ground trembled beneath our feet, reminding us that we were in the Underworld, a place where the living weren't exactly welcome.
"We have to go," said Diana, her expression returning to its usual determination. "The war is about to begin, and you, heroic imbecile, have just put a giant target on your back."
"Technically," I smiled, trying to lighten the mood, "the target is only on a very specific point."
She gave me a look that could have frozen Greek fire. "One more joke about targets, and I'll show you exactly how specific I can be with my arrows."
When the time finally came to defend Manhattan against Kronos's army, Diana was there, though not as I expected. She wasn't fighting alongside the other huntresses, who had arrived with Thalia at the front. Instead, I saw her as silver flashes between buildings, a solitary figure who appeared at the most critical moments to save me or to save one of my friends.
In the midst of the battle chaos, with Manhattan turned into a war zone, I saw her. A silver flash between buildings, an impossible arrow that pierced three dracaenae at once, a movement so fast it could barely be distinguished from a moonbeam.
Diana was fighting, not with Artemis's official huntresses, but alone, like an unleashed force of nature. I knew then that she was there for me, not for the gods, not for Olympus, but for Percy Jackson.
During a brief respite between attacks, I found her on the rooftop of the Plaza Hotel, our improvised headquarters. She was adjusting her bow, her arrows almost depleted after hours of incessant combat.
"You should be resting," she said without even looking at me. "The next wave will come soon."
"I could say the same to you," I replied, sitting beside her. "You've been fighting as much as I have."
"I have more endurance," she replied simply.
I watched how her fingers, agile and precise, repaired a damaged arrow. There was something hypnotic about the way she worked, with a concentration that seemed to exclude everything else.
"Why aren't you with the other huntresses?" I finally asked. "They arrived with Thalia hours ago."
Her hands stopped for an almost imperceptible instant before continuing their work. "I have my own battles," she replied enigmatically. "They don't always coincide with the priorities of... the others."
There was something in her tone, a discordant note, that made me study her more carefully. "Do the other huntresses know you're here?"
Diana smiled, but it was a sad smile, almost resigned. "Let's say my presence is... complicated for them."
"And for Artemis?" I pressed, feeling that I was approaching something important.
Her gaze met mine, and for an instant, I saw something ancient and powerful in those changing eyes. "Especially for her."
I wanted to ask more, to unravel the mystery that always seemed to surround her, but the sound of a battle horn interrupted us. Kronos's army was attacking again.
Diana stood up in a fluid movement, her bow already in position. "Be careful, Percy," she said with an intensity that surprised me. "If you die, I'll follow you to the Underworld just to kill you again for being so stupid."
"I love you too," I replied without thinking.
Her eyes opened slightly, as if surprised by my words, or perhaps by my audacity. Then, with a speed that defied sight, she leaned in and pressed her lips against my forehead.
"Don't make me have to prove it," she whispered, and then jumped from the rooftop with supernatural grace, disappearing into the battle raging below.
The next time I saw her was in the midst of battle, at a particularly desperate moment. I was surrounded by a dozen telekhines and several renegade demigods. Despite my invulnerability, I was beginning to tire, and more and more enemies seemed to be concentrating on my position.
"Get away from the son of Poseidon!" shouted a familiar voice.
A rain of silver arrows fell from a nearby building, turning half of my opponents into supernatural pincushions. Diana jumped from the roof, landing in the middle of the remaining group with an explosion of silver light that forced everyone, including me, to close our eyes.
When I could see again, Diana was standing among disintegrating monster corpses, holding two silver daggers stained with golden ichor. Her expression was fierce, almost wild, and for a moment, she seemed larger, older, surrounded by a silver aura that resembled moonlight.
"Are you okay?" I asked, concerned by the intensity of her gaze.
She blinked, and the aura vanished. Suddenly she was just Diana again, not the divine and terrible creature I had glimpsed for a second.
"I'm fine," she replied, cleaning her daggers. "But you're bleeding."
I touched my forehead, and my fingers came back red. "Just a superficial cut. The curse is working."
"For now," she murmured. Then, looking around us, she added: "This is just the beginning, Percy. They're probing our defenses. Kronos's real generals haven't entered the battle yet."
As if she had invoked the storm with her words, a bestial roar shook the air. A few streets away, a hyperborean giant was razing buildings, while the golden figure of Kronos in Luke's body led a new assault.
Diana followed my gaze, her expression hardening. "Go," she said simply. "I'll hold this sector."
"Alone?"
A wolfish smile curved her lips. "Oh, Jackson. At this point you should know better than to underestimate what I can do alone."
Before separating from her, I took her hand. "Be careful, okay? You're not invulnerable."
"I'm something better," she replied, with a mysterious gleam in her eyes. "I'm unstoppable."
I headed toward the front, but halfway there I felt that unmistakable sensation of being watched. I turned to see Artemis in her twelve-year-old girl form, observing me from a nearby balcony. Her gaze was penetrating, as if trying to solve a particularly annoying riddle. For a terrible moment, I thought she had discovered my bond with Diana, but then she nodded briefly, as if acknowledging my presence, and disappeared in a silver flash.
The battle continued throughout the night, with the defenders of Olympus fighting on every corner of Manhattan. At one point, after repelling a particularly fierce attack on the Brooklyn Bridge, I found myself briefly alone, exhausted and breathing heavily.
"Impressive," said a voice behind me. "For a demigod with a brain the size of a marine nut."
I turned to find Diana leaning against a twisted lamppost, as fresh as if she had just taken a stroll in the park instead of having spent hours fighting against the titan's forces.
"Are you following me, huntress?" I asked, trying to sound casual despite the fatigue.
"Someone has to make sure you don't get killed in some spectacularly stupid way," she replied, coming closer to examine a cut on my arm that was already closing. "Though I must admit that your new 'practically invulnerable' condition considerably facilitates my job."
"Glad to be useful," I replied dryly.
Diana looked at me then, all her lightness vanishing. "I almost found her today," she said quietly.
"Who?"
"Artemis."
The way she said it, with a mixture of fear and resignation, reminded me that, despite all her confidence, Diana lived constantly on the edge of discovery.
"What happened?"
"I was on the east side, eliminating a group of hellhounds, when I felt her presence," she explained, her voice almost a whisper. "It's... difficult to explain. As if a part of me resonated with her proximity. I had to disappear before she could see me."
"What would happen if she saw you?" I asked, a question I had avoided until then.
Diana looked away, her eyes fixed on the distant battle. "I don't know for certain. But it wouldn't be good. For either of us."
There was so much in what she didn't say, so many mysteries I still didn't understand about her. But before I could press further, her expression changed, becoming alert.
"Another wave is coming," she said, straightening up. "And this one looks big."
I concentrated, and indeed, I could feel the vibration of hundreds of feet marching toward our position.
"We should regroup with the others," I suggested.
Diana shook her head. "You go. I'll flank them from the east."
"Diana..."
"Percy," she interrupted me, using my first name, indicating the seriousness of the moment. "Trust me. I know what I'm doing."
I wanted to protest, to tell her she didn't have to fight alone, that we were stronger together. But there was something in her expression, an iron determination mixed with something softer, almost vulnerable, that stopped me.
"We'll see each other again," she said, and it wasn't a question.
"I promise," I replied, feeling the weight of those words.
A sad smile curved her lips. Then, in a movement so fast I barely registered it, she leaned in and pressed her lips against mine. It was a brief kiss, almost desperate, loaded with things unsaid.
"Just in case," she whispered against my lips, and then disappeared into the night, leaving me alone with the taste of moonlight and the promise of a reunion.
The final confrontation with Kronos came too soon. In the throne room of Olympus, I faced the lord of the titans in Luke's body. The battle was brutal, desperate, and finally, it wasn't my sword that ended the threat, but Luke's own sacrifice.
When it was all over, when Luke sacrificed himself and Kronos was defeated, she was waiting for me at the Empire State Building elevator. She didn't ask what had happened; her eyes told me she already knew.
"You did it," she said simply.
"Barely," I replied, exhaustion seeping into every syllable.
Instead of her usual sarcastic comments, Diana simply took my hand. Her fingers intertwined with mine offered a silent comfort that no words could match.
The gods offered us rewards for our service in the war. Annabeth was offered the position of official architect of Olympus. Grover was named the new Lord of the Wild. And to me... to me they offered the greatest gift of all: immortality.
Zeus himself proposed it to me, to become a minor god. To be immortal, powerful, free from mortal concerns forever. As I considered the offer, my gaze briefly crossed with Diana's, who had sneaked into the ceremony and was watching from the shadows. There was something in her eyes, a mixture of fear and hope, that helped me make my decision.
"I am honored, Lord Zeus," I finally said. "But I must decline."
A collective gasp ran through the hall. Rejecting immortality was unprecedented.
Instead of immortality, I asked for recognition for the minor gods, cabins for their children at Camp Half-Blood, recognition for Hades and Hestia, and forgiveness for all the demigods who had supported Kronos, giving them a second chance.
When the ceremony ended and the gods dispersed, I looked for Diana in the crowd, but she had disappeared. It wasn't until that night, when I returned to the beach at Camp Half-Blood, that I found her waiting for me.
"You're an idiot, Jackson," was the first thing she said to me.
"I'm glad to see you too," I replied, but I couldn't help smiling.
"You rejected immortality? Seriously?" She was genuinely indignant, her eyes shining with a fury I didn't fully understand. "Do you have any idea what many would give for that opportunity?"
"Including you?" I asked, and for the first time since I had known her, Diana seemed to be left speechless.
She sat beside me on the sand, our shoulders almost touching.
"Why did you do it?" she finally asked, her voice softer now.
I thought of all the reasons: my mother, my friends, the mortal world that, despite everything, remained my home. But as I looked at Diana, with the moonlight reflecting in her white hair and her changing eyes fixed on me, I realized there was another reason I hadn't recognized until now.
"I didn't want to live forever," I answered honestly. "Not like that. Not as one of them."
Diana nodded, as if she perfectly understood what I meant. And perhaps she did.
"Besides," I added with a crooked smile, "who would save your butt if I were busy being immortal?"
She let out a laugh, the sound blending with the rumble of the waves. "Oh, Jackson, you're incorrigible."
"It's part of my charm."
"Who says you have charm?"
"You will. Eventually."
We remained silent for a moment, contemplating the stars. Then, without warning, Diana stood up and extended her hand to me.
"Come," she said with a mysterious smile. "I want to show you something."
"Now? It's almost two in the morning."
"Does the hero of Olympus have a curfew?" she mocked, arching an elegant silver eyebrow.
I couldn't resist the challenge. I took her hand and let myself be guided away from the beach, through the forest that surrounded the camp, to a hidden clearing I had never noticed despite my years there.
The place was magical: a small pond fed by a crystalline stream, surrounded by silver flowers that seemed to capture and reflect the moonlight. I recognized the moonlace, the same ones Calypso had once given me.
"How did you find this place?" I asked, genuinely amazed.
Diana shrugged. "I have my methods." She sat on a flat rock beside the pond and patted the space next to her. "Sit down, Seaweed Brain. I'm not going to bite you... unless you ask for it."
I laughed as I settled beside her. "That sounded strangely like a proposition."
"Take it however you want," she replied with a smile that made me swallow.
Diana extended her hand over the water and, to my amazement, the pond glowed with a soft silver light. Then, small figures began to form on the surface: silhouettes of liquid silver that danced, fought, and told stories without words.
"It's beautiful," I whispered, fascinated by the spectacle.
"They're stories," Diana explained, her voice unusually soft. "Stories of heroes, gods, adventures... some that have happened, others that could be."
One of the silver figures took a familiar form: a boy with a sword, facing a minotaur. I recognized my own story.
"Is that me?" I asked, pointing to the figure.
Diana nodded. "Your story is just beginning, Percy. You have many adventures ahead."
"Have you seen them?" I couldn't help my curiosity. "In the water?"
She smiled enigmatically. "Not everything. Just... possibilities."
"And you? Are you in any of those possibilities?"
Her gaze met mine, and for a moment, I saw something in her changing eyes that left me breathless: vulnerability, hope, and something deeper that I didn't dare to name.
"That," she replied softly, "depends on the choices we make."
The moment was broken by a sudden splash in the pond. I looked down and saw that the silver figures had disappeared, replaced by a golden fish swimming in circles.
"Is that normal?" I asked, pointing to the fish.
Diana blinked, confused. "No, it's not."
The fish looked at us—yes, looked directly at us—and then, in an impossible movement, jumped out of the water and landed directly in my lap, where it proceeded to dramatically gasp for air.
"It's dying!" I exclaimed, panicking. I took the fish and quickly returned it to the water.
As soon as it touched the pond, the fish transformed into a perfect miniature of my father, Poseidon, complete with trident and all. The tiny figure looked at me, shook its head in apparent disappointment, and then dissolved into bubbles.
Diana and I looked at each other for a second before bursting into laughter.
"I think," she said between laughs, "that your father just expressed his opinion about our... friendship."
"By throwing a fish in my face? Subtle."
"Gods rarely are."
"Well," I said after our laughter calmed down, "at least it means he knows and hasn't tried to turn me into a marine animal. That's something, isn't it?"
"I suppose," Diana replied, but there was a note of concern in her voice. "Though not all gods would be so... understanding."
I thought of Artemis, the virgin goddess who demanded eternal chastity from her followers, and a shiver ran down my spine.
"Diana," I began, gathering courage, "there's something I've wanted to ask you for a long time. Something about you."
She visibly tensed. "Percy..."
"No, please. I need to know." I took her hand in mine. "Who are you really?"
Her eyes quickly changed color, from silver to amber and back, as if the question had provoked an internal struggle.
"I am Diana," she finally replied. "A huntress of Artemis."
"But there's more, isn't there? Something you're not telling me."
Diana gently withdrew her hand. "There are things it's better not to know, Percy. Truths that could endanger us both."
"Is that why they never see you with the other huntresses? Why Artemis can't see you?"
A sad smile curved her lips. "You're more perceptive than you appear, Seaweed Brain."
"I learned it from a particularly irritating huntress," I replied, trying to lighten the mood.
It worked. Diana let out a soft laugh, and some of the tension left her shoulders.
"Someday," she promised, "when the time is right, I'll tell you the whole truth. But for now..." she leaned toward me, her gaze intense, "can we just enjoy this? Us, without divine complications or impossible questions."
How could I refuse when she looked at me like that, with those eyes that contained true vulnerability and secrets older than civilization?
"Okay," I yielded. "But you'll have to make it up to me."
"Oh, really?" Her eyes gleamed with amusement. "And how do you propose I do that, hero of Olympus?"
I gathered all my courage, the same that had led me to face Kronos and reject immortality, to do what I had desired for too long: I leaned in and kissed her.
For a terrible instant, Diana remained completely still. Then, just when I was about to pull away and apologize profusely (possibly while running for my life), her arms slid around my neck and she returned the kiss with an intensity that left me breathless.
Her lips tasted like stars and freedom, like whispered promises and accepted dangers. Kissing her was like immersing myself in liquid moonlight: cold and warm at the same time, strange and familiar, terrifying and absolutely perfect.
When we finally separated, both breathing heavily, the pond beside us glowed with an almost blinding intensity, as if the moon itself had submerged in its waters.
"Well," said Diana, her voice hoarser than usual, "that was..."
"Spectacularly stupid?" I suggested, repeating one of her favorite phrases.
"I was going to say 'long awaited'," she corrected, a slow smile spreading across her face. "But yes, probably also stupid. Gloriously stupid."
"It's my specialty," I replied, unable to contain my own smile.
"I know," she sighed dramatically. "It's part of your charm."
"So you admit I have charm?" I asked, arching an eyebrow in an imitation of her characteristic gesture.
In response, Diana drew me in for another kiss, this one softer, more careful, as if she were memorizing the feeling.
"Don't get excited, Jackson," she murmured against my lips. "This doesn't mean I'm going to stop thinking you're a walking disaster with heroic complexes."
"And this doesn't mean I'm going to stop thinking you're the most exasperating and intimidating person I've ever met," I replied.
"Good."
"Good."
And so, under a starry sky, next to an enchanted pond, with gods watching and prophecies lurking in the shadows, Diana and I crossed a line that would change our destinies forever.
We didn't know then what would come: new gods, old enemies, the disappearance, the oblivion, Tartarus itself. We didn't know the price we would have to pay for defying the ancient laws of Olympus. We didn't know that our paths would separate only to meet again in the most extreme circumstances.
But that night, none of that mattered. That night, we were just Percy and Diana, a girl and a boy under the stars, discovering together that even in a world of gods and monsters, some things are more powerful than fate itself.
Fate has a twisted sense of humor, it's true.
But sometimes, just sometimes, it gives us perfect moments that make all the pain worth it.
Author's Note:
Hey guys! How's the story going so far? I've tried to stick to the canon as much as possible.
Feel free to leave a review — I read them all, both the good and the bad. Your feedback really helps me improve.
Originally, this was meant to be a one-shot. I accidentally uploaded my draft, but several people commented that they wanted more, so I thought:"Why not?"The idea felt fresh, and I hadn't seen anyone else do it before.
Also, I want to apologize if my English isn't perfect. Let me explain a bit about how I write:
First, I draft the idea — it's always a total mess. Then I start refining it. Once the chapter is done, I run it through LanguageTool to catch grammar mistakes (in Spanish). After that, I rewrite everything in English, which is actually my third language. I don't live in an English-speaking country, and the only English I learned was American English. I also use Word to check grammar and improve sentence structure. Just improving a single grammar point can change the meaning of a sentence a lot.
Many people have asked me in private messages about my writing process, so here it is!
Some might wonder why I don't upload content in my native language (which is Spanish). The reason is simple: even though Percy Jackson has fans in Spanish, it has a much larger audience in English. So this way, I kill two birds with one stone — I get to improve my written English and reach more readers. Besides, many people on use Google Translate to read in their own language, so I'm not really losing my audience.