Boil 21
"Let us swallow bitterness. Let us gorge on pain. Let us feed from the hand of hate. We are legion. The time for consideration is over. The time for silent suffering is long passed. When we are wronged, we will scream and rage and sing with a desire for ultimate revenge. If we must destroy ourselves to destroy them, then so be it. We are the inheritors of this world. It is ours—ours alone—to burn."
-Quote attributed to an unknown interviewee in The City Speaks Today!
Never would he have expected this.
Never had he even entertained the thought.
What Athena hoped to gain by stoking his ire, he did not know. Surely, it would be accounted for in whatever scheme she'd concocted, but Hades did not care. He could not bring himself to worry about her machinations. After all, wasn't that how he'd fallen for her trap in the first place? His hesitation, his probing, his attempt to engage her at the game she played best. All mistakes. The only thing that truly mattered was strength.
All else aside, their strength did not match his own. Here in the Netherworld he was at his most powerful. He who had warred against the Titans. He who had cast down Ereshkigal. He who had crushed Anubis' ill-begotten rebellion. Hades had tasted defeat, allowed failure to be his mentor, and he had become better for it. Without him, the mortals' great wars would have overwhelmed the Netherworld to the point of doom. With the great balance destroyed, nothing would have mattered anymore. No god had created humanity, and no creation of the gods could ever hope to replace them. Without humans, the natural world would subsume the gods once more, and the divine spark would be snuffed like that—only a creature of the natural world could birth that which they might consider supernatural.
Steam escaped Hades' mouth and embers whipped around him in a whirlwind as the air grew hot enough to veil him in a shimmer.
His fury would not be contained. The time for reckoning was now.
Hades summoned his scepter and raised it, calling upon the eldritch aether to fall from above upon his enemies. A bolt of scarlet energy tore down from the ceiling with dizzying speed, its set course bearing down on the interlopers.
But the combined might of three prepared gods was no small matter to overcome. Erebus and Nyx incanted something beneath their breath, and a sheet of pearlescent vapor drifted from the ground into the air above them. At the same time, Athena raised her hands, then clapped them together with a thunderous CRACK.
The bolt met resistance within the vapor summoned by Erebus and Nyx, and then—at Athena's clap—erupted into a fireball that spewed death from above. Molten orbs dropped upon the Netherworld, slamming into the ground and breaking into noxious waste.
Hades refused to marvel. Such was the tide of battle. They had thwarted a powerful attack, yes, but such was to be expected when his foes were these three forces of nature.
He stamped his heel, causing the ground to tremble as two hundred skeletal warriors climbed to the surface—his honor guard, loyal only to him, animated by the spirits of unsung mortal heroes from ages long forgotten. They would be no match for the gods but even chaff had its uses.
"Percy, Jann," Athena said, gesturing with her head, "you deal with them. Leave Hades to us for now."
Jackson glanced at the bed of flowers one last time, face unable to fully settle with pity or disgust, then shook his head. He scanned the host of raised warriors through narrowed eyes, allowed himself to watch the fireball above continue its short lived fusion, then finally settled his gaze on Hades.
"I'll take care of the undead," Jackson said. "Jann should help you. Four-on-one is better than three-on-one."
Athena seemed amused. "These are no ordinary warriors, Percy. I can't allow you to do that."
"Can't allow me to do that," he repeated, almost mockingly. "Too bad I don't care what you do and don't allow."
"Percy—" Athena tried again, but the demigod ignored her.
He moved as if starting a graceless waltz, swinging his sword with all the confidence of a man who thought himself invincible. There oozed from him a familiar sort of anger. Hades felt as though he were looking into the past, when the Titanomachia raged at the height of its terror. Poseidon once carried himself in such a fashion, so long ago. Those were times better forgotten. Things had changed a great deal since then. .
The host lost a dozen warriors at one fell swoop, and a dozen more only a moment later. The water sloughing from Jackson's sword was razor sharp, unnaturally so and it wreaked havoc as an extension of his relentless assault. Essentially, his attack came in two parts: the blade itself and the whirling water echo that trailed behind it.
Hades noticed an eerie and radiant sheen that emanated from the blade and the water.
Well no matter. His ultimate enemy was not the demigod or the Sacred Gear wielder. The mortals were far outclassed here. The primordials would be troublesome enemies, but he would deal with them because he had to. Athena was his true nemesis. She alone he yearned to kill.
As he prepared to attack, Nyx and Erebus stepped forward. Their faces spoke of defiance and determination. Athena motioned for Jann to stand back while she lowered herself to the ground and sat atop the bed of flowers. A thick blanket of ethereal power steadily seeped out of her pores, heavy enough to grate against Hades' own aura but not potent enough to overcome it.
Hades raised his arm.
The gods of darkness and night responded in kind. They unleashed twin lances of shrieking magic from their hands, which Hades countered with a deluge of raw magical energy from his scepter. The powers met and cannibalized each other, leaving behind a crackling wound in the fabric of his Netherworld's tapestry.
Again, in an effort to pressure him, Nyx and Erebus fired off rays of black energy. Hades was set to raise a barrier when he felt himself grow rigid. Aegis Mineralization! He slowed—just enough.
The rays tore through him, burning away his bones and forcing him to draw upon the Netherworld's power to repair himself. He snarled and set pillars of dreadfire upon the primordials. The dreadfire ripped and roared, shackled into form but protesting against restraint as gouts of the all-consuming flame flicked out in every which direction.
Not enough, Hades knew. He had seen, at the last moment possible, their escape into darkness. Sure enough, he felt their presence reappear behind him, likely coming from his shadow. Teleportation this was not. Their method of shadow traveling was inherently different from the magic of higher translocation. Still, they should have known better than to appear so close. Such a mistake would cost them dearly, Hades would make sure of that. .
He manifested a blade and whirled around, carving a line with speed neither of them expected. Nyx was first to feel the bite of his Stygian iron. She managed to save her life with an impulsive jerk backward, but his sword cleaved apart her cheek, into and through her mouth, splattering her immortal ichor across the ground.
Even as she retreated in shock, Hades would have no respite. Erebus brought forth a torrent of magic that shredded the barrier around Hades. Then, despite her injury, Nyx testified for the night. A mosaic of stars upon pitch black engulfed him, and gravity assumed Hades to be the heart of a dead sun. In an instant his body was reduced to a single point in space, crushed by gravitational collapse. Had he not been connected to the Netherworld as he was, it would have been his defeat and demise.
Impressive as their power was, the two primordials were clearly wary of him. And for good reason. Hades reconstituted, his consciousness given material form once again by the powers flowing into him from the realm, and he loosed a hurricane of energy that rained upon the battlefield like shards of glass. Nyx and Erebus raised wards, again erring in the heat of battle. Without talent and without experience in combat, they relied on strength alone. Likely, they could intimidate any god into submission by their sheer presence, primordials that they were.
Hades would not be easily cowed. He channeled power into his blade and pressed forward, sure to remain on the attack.
They noticed him move too late. He thrust the tip of his sword into the wards around them. Their defense faltered in the face of his concentrated blow. With great effort, he managed to pierce the wards. Using momentum to his advantage, Hades twisted and chopped at Erebus with his sword while using his scepter to entrap Nyx in a coffin of light. Erebus fell, clutching his torso where a line of glowing green had been carved into his flesh. Before he could turn and deliver a brutal blow to Nyx, his bones began to mineralize again.
That damnable boy!
It did not take much of his power to counter the effects of Aegis Mineralization, but in the scant window of time it took overcome the Sacred Gear, Athena appeared behind him.
Hades spun to face her.
Their weapons met in a clash that sent glowing hot sparks showering across his vision. From the corner of his eye he caught sight of the Sacred Gear wielder standing beside Athena's completed spellwork.
Though she had started with nothing, Athena had managed to create a dizzying array of connecting and intersecting magic circles .
Oh yes, she had come very prepared. It would have been impossible for her to create such a vast array of magic in so little time. She must have had the framework of this magic fully realized in her mind before manifesting it here. But what was she thinking now? The more Hades examined it, the more he saw a repeating sequence in the magic circles, but he could not grasp the intent behind her lattice.
Whatever the purpose, Hades knew it would not be for his benefit. He would not allow her to activate the array.
He drove Athena back with his blade and then sent a torrent of tempestuous sorcery toward Nyx. Athena once again intervened, countering with a condensed swirling maelstrom that locked his own magic into a clash. White-hot plasma sprayed from the point of contention. The very ground they stood on fissured, buckled, and warped as the Netherworld strained to keep its shape.
Erebus rose and launched a quick volley of midnight darts. Hades hastily raised a small ward but the darts curved around his defense and pierced his ribcage. Faltering, Hades cursed as Athena's maelstrom of energy ate his own sorcery before closing the distance and ripping him apart.
Even when he reformed, Athena gave him no moment to rest. She dashed toward him and brought her spear to bear, to which he responded by intercepting with his sword.
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! The trill of their weapons meeting reverberated throughout his realm as they began a manic blade dance. Sparks continued to spray across the small space between them. CLANG! CLANG!
Athena pressed harder. They became supersonic; every line their arms drew created waves of shock. The noise from their contest was continuous and discordant. It was a cacophony of chaos, speaking in tongues of violence.
Her attacks never afforded him even the simplest respite. Relentlessly, they drove their weapons more cruelly than any taskmaster that had come before them or any that might come after. His sword and Athena's spear, both forged from the highest of metals, glowed red-hot and released shrieks of agony each time they collided.
What a contest!
There was no denying that Athena was skilled. Unlike Erebus and Nyx, she was experienced and talented. That made her exceptionally dangerous. Moreover, he was not a skilled duelist by any stretch. She littered his body with small wounds which spoke more to her caution than anything else. While others might have pressed the attack in light of their superiority, she remained wary of him. That said, she clearly preferred to keep him at close range.
Whatever cunning plot she had concocted, Hades would need to tear through it with sheer power. He would not allow himself to be drawn into a game of her own design.
Her grin had grown wider the more they fought. She was obviously enjoying herself. Surging forward, she prepared to strike with her spear. As Hades took his chance to guard, she proved her strike a feint and knocked aside his sword just enough to deliver a spinning blow with the edge of her shield, crushing his spine beneath his ribs. Hades ground his teeth in frustration at the nuisance of it all.
Alone, the bite from their attacks was minor, but they came with such consistency that he was forced to acknowledge his deteriorating predicament. While his stores of power were vast, they were not limitless. His attachment to the Netherworld bolstered that limit to truly impressive levels, but his body's constant state of self-repair would quickly drain even that.
Suddenly, the Netherworld groaned and lurched, and Hades felt the beginning of rebellion within his realm. New fissures split the ground, then opened further into yawning crevasses deep enough where light could not touch their bottom. The quaking intensified for a brief moment, reaching its climax with so much violent force that Hades and Athena both struggled to remain upright and steady on their feet. Eventually, the ground shattering quake dwindled and ceased, though it felt as though the shock still reverberated through his bones in phantom waves.
Hades noticed Athena had not recovered by the time he had.
A chance!
He swiped his sword in a wide arc and released a flood of crackling energy. Athena sheltered behind her shield but was still forced back by the sheer weight of power crashing against her. Hades commanded bone stakes to rise from the ground and pierce her legs. The pained shout she gave was more than satisfying. This would only be the beginning of her suffering, he thought.
With a flick of his scepter, a vortex of green-black magic fell upon her. Upon any mortal, the Cage would have flayed them in an instant and scattered their soul like ash. Against Athena, it did no such thing. The vortex swirled around her, trapping her within the maelstrom of energy and peppering her with shallow wounds. At face value, it seemed woefully impotent against Athena's natural defenses. Still, he could proceed more brazenly so long as she was out of the battle, though he would have to ensure his concentration remained at least partially fixated on keeping the Cage fueled.
Hades looked over his shoulder. Nyx and Erebus were injured but not defeated. He craved nothing more than to simply attack them with a thousand megatons, eradicate them in one instant, but he could not take that risk. Apart from being well within the backlash range of such a detonation… he once again took note of the spell lattice Athena had created. It hovered menacingly, prepared, promising. What could it have been? Was it meant for anything aside from destruction? Perhaps now that Athena was temporarily indisposed he could attempt to break the sorcerous weave, but the cost for failure might be high.
Part of him disagreed. If she wanted to ruin the Netherworld, then she would have already activated the array and let loose the magic within. If the realm's destruction was her ultimate goal, she needn't have brought the mortals. She wanted him defeated, yes, but what price was she willing to pay to see it happen?
Destroying the Netherworld—in theory, such a thing was possible, at least in one sense. The Netherworld's physical manifestation was as transient as a mountain: it could be eroded, broken even, but not without great effort. Most gods could deal his realm a tremendous blow should they so desire. He himself could scourge a landmass the size of Australia given a few hours. The Netherworld was only a fraction that size; it would only take him one minute. Nyx and Erebus could do the same, he was sure. And while he did not necessarily hold any mortal tie to the Netherworld, if its physical manifestation were destroyed, he would be weakened for it.
However, Hades did not believe Athena wanted to resort to destruction. He would be weakened, but the Netherworld was all that separated them from the Abyss. None of them, not even he, dared risk such a fate. Athena would not be foolish enough to destroy the one thing keeping her from eternal imprisonment. She was too selfish for that kind of self-sacrifice. Then again, he felt the same way. None escaped from the Abyss.
And all this was also without mention of the chaos that would ensue should the Netherworld be destroyed… Hades could already imagine the disaster that would befall the mortal world. It would be an age of chaos the likes of which unseen for millennia.
So no, he did not believe Athena had any intention of ruining his realm, and he most certainly did not. Both sides held back in their ability for destruction thusly.
I'm overthinking again, Hades realized. Despite knowing how much Athena enjoyed toying with her enemies' minds, he still found it difficult to ignore the possibilities. But if ignoring them brought him victory, then he would do so. Power, his power, would see him through this trial. He had to break all her potential outcomes by overwhelming her in the moment, while still being precise through the procedure. The present controlled the future.
Now, two options lay before him: kill Athena, or kill Erebus and Nyx. On one hand, if the mastermind fell, so too would their schemes. On the other hand, Nyx and Erebus were conventional threats he could more easily curb. Even while trapped in the Cage, Hades did not believe Athena to be defenseless should he strike. And if his attack disrupted the Cage and freed her, then he'd be contending with three gods again rather than two.
Then my answer is clear.
Hades turned to face Nyx and Erebus, readying sword and scepter. They had not been idle in the time he had taken to bring the Cage down upon Athena. Erebus wove magic that manifested as churning aether while Nyx had freed herself from the coffin of light and began seeping darkness into the Netherworld.
He attacked. As he dashed toward them, a dozen illusory mirror images in his likeness sprang from his body, moving in confounding patterns to keep them from targeting his true body. Nyx slammed her hands together and set the pitch-like darkness to surround them. A wave of crushing jaws formed by deepest shadow snapped out from the darkness. Hades glided between his illusions and advanced as best he could. Despite his best attempt at moving randomly, the field of darkness Nyx had created allowed her to maintain a non-stop onslaught against him. Every square inch that the darkness had surrounded was a possible avenue of attack.
Hades realized he had lost his advantage in the face of Nyx's superior ability. Even as an inky maw in darted out and crushed his bones, and even as he was forced to acknowledge that his position only deteriorated as time continued to pass, Hades remained unperturbed. Even when Erebus set the storm of aether upon him, and his body melted from the sheer heat of it all, Hades did not despair. His body quickly reconstituted, but it was once again shattered by Nyx's assault, his form reduced to powder. Again, he rose. When he tried to take a step, again he was felled.
When he reformed for the fifth time, a crown of dark iron rested upon his skull. His Helm of Darkness. And with his Helm of Darkness, the attacks ceased, if only for a moment. It was the only moment Hades required.
His scepter blazed with white sorcery and drove back the darkness surrounding them. His eyes locked onto Nyx and Erebus.
The primordials had been caught by his Helm of Darkness, but they were recovering already.
Their power is great, he thought, but even primordials know fear.
Hades pressed his newfound advantage. He darted inside their guard and struck an arc with his sword that cleaved off part of Erebus' jaw while his scepter let loose a crescent of energy that cut Nyx open at the waist.
The had managed to avoid a decisive blow once more by the skin of their teeth.
Gravity collapsed upon him again. Hades managed to hold his form whole for a while longer than before, but Nyx redoubled her efforts. The Netherworld groaned and buckled. Great swathes of rock were torn from the ground and pulled into the throat of space that Nyx had centered upon him. As it approached, such was the layered pressure of the event horizon that rock became sand became superheated dust. Hades himself was again crushed into one single particle smaller than the head of a pin.
When Nyx released her sorcery, Hades again reformed. Slower this time; he was tiring. This battle would continue to turn against him as it dragged on. He waved his scepter and allowed a fell ray of promised death to lash out. Erebus stepped forward and deflected the ray with a mirror of pearlescent power.
Hades went to dodge the reflected energy but felt the hold of Aegis Mineralization slow his movements again. The fell ray disintegrated him with a single touch and he scattered like ash.
Fully reconstituting took three seconds. When he was whole again, Hades scanned the battlefield for that damnable pest of a Sacred Gear wielder. The mortal had become a bigger nuisance than he'd anticipated.
The primordials took their chance to renew their bombardment. Unlike Athena, they preferred to keep distance. Hades accepted their duel of arcane power and brought barriers and piercing magics to life with a single wave of his hand. While he also preferred sorcery to a melee, against Erebus and Nyx he knew the latter to be their more glaring deficiency.
During their exchange Hades looked for openings in their guard. He flirted with threats of closing the distance, though Erebus and Nyx remained wary of their positioning. They danced around each other, Hades taking the lead as he moved between each of his barrages. The primordials informed how they moved in opposition to Hades, sure to stay away from him and his blade.
Eventually Hades found what he was looking for. Nyx's steps had become less sure. She wept immortal ichor from her wounds, and her strength had waned considerably. Hades darted forward, feigning a chop at Nyx's head. The primordials reacted exactly as he expected: Nyx stumbled back and Erebus moved to protect her. His feint was not executed as perfectly as Athena's had been, but it still took the siblings by surprise. Hades reversed his grip on his sword and plunged it through the base of Erebus' collar. Dreadfire erupted from his blade and began its hungry work on Erebus' body. The primordial screamed as he burned.
"No!" Nyx mustered, aiming a nebula with the tip of her finger toward Hades.
A scattering of plasma tore from Hades' scepter, eldritch power burning wicked holes through Nyx's body.
The primordials fell.
Not done yet. Hades prepared another fell bolt of sorcery that would strike them. They would die, perhaps not permanently, but so long as they were out of this battle then Hades cared not if they reformed. And with this—
His body froze. His bones began to petrify.
PEST!
Hades watched impotently as the two primordials dissolved into their shadows. He burned away the wretched power that had restrained him and whirled around furiously. That Sacred Gear wielder had proven himself to be far, far too comfortable defying his betters.
The boy was not in the same place as last time. Smart, he had moved. He'd known that eventually Hades would grow tired of his nonsense. Not that it would matter. The Netherworld was not a safe harbor for foes to its ruler.
Hades scanned the battlefield for—there! He appeared before the boy in a flash, his sword already swinging.
Instinct saved the boy. He hardly managed to bring his shield, the false aegis, up to protect himself. Regardless of that, Hades still had great strength, and the boy was sent careening away. Hades did not stop there, though. He brought his fingers up and raised several bone stakes. The boy managed to roll to his feet and block the stakes before they could strike him.
Hades took careful aim. His scepter launched a thin crescent of iridescent energy. Against someone made of stern stuff, it would be unable to cut far, but this human was not at all very durable. The crescent cleanly separated the boy's hand from the rest of his arm, and the false aegis was sent clattering to the ground.
It took the boy a moment to process what had happened, as is typical. When he did, and when the pain forced him to scream while clutching his wrist, well, Hades took no pleasure from that. A glance behind him to assure that Athena was still trapped within the cage, then Hades turned back to the Sacred Gear wielder. Perhaps is was pity for his situation or some meager level of respect he felt toward a mortal challenging him so brazenly, but Hades cast a simple spell to numb the boy's pain.
"What is your name, boy?" he asked. "The least I can do is know your name. I'll remember you for your foolish bravery if not your strength."
The boy groaned. He pointedly avoided looking at his injury or where his false aegis had fallen. Instead, he met Hades' gaze from his position on the ground. "I'm Jann Wyszynski, inheritor to the spirit of the great hero Perseus."
"Oh?" Hades shook his head. Truly foolish. "And you believe that makes you a hero?"
"Once upon a time, yes, I did. I'm not here for glory, though, and I'm not afraid to die."
"I see. Yes, I see. That is fair. I shall remember your name, Jann Wyszynski." Hades raised his scepter to loose a decisive strike just as a droplet of water landed upon his brow. Then another. Another, and another, and another. Above, he saw a gathering mass of dark clouds, driving a warm wind and a drizzle before it. The nascent storm grumbled, as might a giant discontent to be confined to the cavernous bowels of his realm.
Then, a second wave of tremors shook the Netherworld. The ground beneath Hades reacted to violence with equal violence. A fissure became a crevasse which became a chasm which slipped along an impossible fault. Hades stumbled as the ground he stood upon lurched down, dragged along a footwall. The tumult of motion was accompanied by a barrage of noise brought about by the earth's shaking. Chaos ruled in his realm for nearly an entire minute, each second little more than a repeating cacophony of what had come before, namely land-shatter and din.
When the quaking finally ceased, it left him standing on broken land. The storm now swept in. Drizzle became rain, lightning split the clouds above and the tugging breeze grew into intermittent gales that howled across the upturned realm.
Someone approached.
Hades turned around. As he should have expected.
The demigod, Percy Jackson, drove the storm on, stalking forward with measured steps. There was nothing about him that indicated he'd fought against the host Hades had raised. Not a scratch, not a bruise. Even his clothing appeared no worse for wear, meaning the host had proved no challenge whatsoever.
The Netherworld held its breath.
Concern crept into Hades. Something had gone very, very wrong. This battle had become more than he anticipated.
It cannot go on. Hades pointed his scepter toward the demigod. It would seem I'm not quite done with the pests yet.
He released a crescent of energy. It raced to split the demigod in half. For unaware and unprepared opponents, the sorcery was deceptively fast, but Jackson was neither, and Hades expected him to dodge. Not a problem. It was a probing attack meant to keep him at bay, not a killing blow.
Except Jackson did not dodge. Instead, he shattered the crescent with the back of his hand. The magic, which had sliced cleanly through Nyx's flesh and bone, left no trace upon the boy's skin. It was not the same protection as before, where a ward had shielded him from the dreadfire. This attack had not encountered that kind of sorcerous resistance. No, this time it had reached him, only the resistance it met was his flesh itself, which had not yielded against a power which even felled a primordial. To Hades, such a thing did not speak to a ward or even tightly maintained battle aura. This was something else… something familiar even…
"You should do everyone a favor and surrender," Jackson said, cocking his head imperiously. The boy addressed him—him, Hades—as one might address rabble. What was his sense of bravado built on? Nobody else would dare to mock Hades with such impudence. "The Olympians are going to break through your barrier eventually. Only a matter of time now that we've whittled you down."
Hades glowered at him. "Athena is trapped, Nyx and Erebus are in no fit shape, and Jann Wyszynski can only slow me down. You are the only fighter left." Hades clamped a fist. Two dozen obsidian stakes broke the earth, angled to skewer the demigod. None of them did. Jackson crushed each stake with sword and foot, leaving only obsidian gravel in his wake. A far cry from his words, his reaction contained no artistry, no pomp. "Do you think, because you have managed to survive for this long, that you are my equal?"
"You're way stronger than me," Jackson agreed, having understood the insinuation. He lifted his sword. The blade glimmered as it continued to slough water. "But you're still gonna lose. Most gods let their strength go to their heads. A god as great and powerful as you Hades… you lose sight of the weak mortals you brag about protecting. Let me guess; you think I'm kind of like an insect, like a very annoying mosquito. Same goes for Jann, right? Go ahead and look down on us, it just proves my point that you're out of touch."
"How narrow your view!" Hades whipped his scepter toward the demigod. A horrific inferno leaped from the tip of his scepter, it's maw opening wide enough to swallow a hundred men if they stood shoulder-to-shoulder. "I know what I am doing!"
Jackson brought his sword down and stabbed the ground, driving the blade deep. The Netherworld groaned as yet another quake buckled the land.
A hundred geysers of water erupted from below, and a tidal wave ripped into battle against the flames that Hades had conjured. The forces of nature cannablized each other, exploding into a mountain of superheated steam. The storm roared as it was fed hot air, and the rain drove down in sheets so thick that Hades could hardly see through it. Jagged arcs of lightning brilliantly pierced the gloom with increasing frequency.
"I guess you're too far gone down that rabbit hole." Jackson's voice cut right through the storm's fury. "If you really knew what you were doing… I wouldn't be here."
Hades threw his scepter far into the air. Lightning struck almost immediately, and his scepter became the nucleus for an orb of plasma. More lightning fed the orb, quickly growing it from the size of a small ball to that of an elephant.
Unfortunately, Jackson was not fool enough to leave it well enough alone. He stepped through the rain with immense force—just one step—and crossed the significant distance between them. Hades was ready this time, and met the bronze sword with his of Stygian iron. Their clash was not to Hades' advantage. The demigod was somehow stronger than he'd been at the temple and the water echo that followed form a moment later compounded that strength. Hades' sword and arms were shattered.
Sensing an opening, Jackson rounded his swing and reversed its course, intent on cutting through Hades in a single fluid motion.
Hasty!
Twin rays of malignant red energy shot from Hades' eyes. This close, it was all Jackson could do to deflect one of the rays with the flat of his blade. The other struck him square on the chest, staggering him. But his body did not disintegrate and turn to dust as it should have. The demigod appeared unsteady on his feet though, and that gave Hades enough time to reform his arms and summon a new sword.
Is he… invincible?
His question was answered when red blood made a slow trail down from the demigod's nose.
So he could be harmed, though his skin seemed immutable or impenetrable. Well, there were ways to work around that. Perhaps he was susceptible to suffocation? Electrocution? Blunt force might transfer well enough to damage his innards.
Jackson brought a hand up to his nose. He glanced at his red-stained finger, lip curling in something close to amusement. It only now struck Hades that the demigod remained dry despite the rain. "That all you got?"
"If I could bring my full power to bear upon you, not even your ashes would remain," Hades said.
"Then do it," Jackson challenged. He spread his arms wide open. "Make my day."
Hades clenched his jaw. To be mocked by a mortal in his own realm… It might have been entertaining under different circumstances, welcome even. But they both knew Hades would not risk widespread destruction of the Netherworld.
"The only way you beat me is by going nuclear. You won't though, will you? Not yet." Jackson tapped the side of his head. "You can't pull the trigger, not until you're on the hopeless edge. I know that because I know myself, and I'm the same way. Except, I hold back because I'm afraid of hurting myself and the people around me. You hold back because your pride demands it."
That was far from true. The demigod was likely hoping to rile Hades into a deeper, more reckless fury. It would not work.
Neither side wanted to start the countdown to mutual annihilation. Both parties knew once the clock started, there was no stopping it. The threat of equivalent retaliation kept them all in check.
Yet be that as it were, Hades was not without a course of action. His eyes flickered to the great sphere of plasma. Yes, that would do.
Hades raised his arm. The energy instantly condensed within his scepter, which then soared back into his waiting hand. The power within would be enough, surely. Jackson was not truly invincible. Even if his skin did not char and become ash, his innards would boil and liquify.
Jackson, likely sensing the imminent danger, stabbed his sword into the ground again. Water was already bubbling at his feet as it permeated up through the dirt from some unknowable source.
It was a race that could not be measured even by the breadth of a hair. They each moved fast, and any mistake would lead one side to ruin. But Hades had acted first! Jackson was quick, but his was a reaction, which could only ever come provoked.
This would be the end!
And then his bones became stone. The breadth of a hair became an entire league, and a window closed.
The bubbling water exploded from the ground and created five walls in front of Jackson. Not even a blink later, the dense and overwhelming energy arced out from Hades' scepter—iridescent, eldritch, and manifest in shocking matter.
There came a crack. Blooming heat! The yawning timbre of eradication. Light and light and light, so bright even Hades could not see past it.
Despite Aegis Mineralization's interruption, Hades was sure his attack had struck true. Five walls of water would be no match for his unleashed fury. While Percy Jackson was clearly experienced in battle, his range of skill and strength ultimately did not compare to the gods. He'd surprised Thanatos and Pluto, leading to their defeat. Admittedly, he'd surprised Hades too, if only slightly, but the limits of his abilities were now—
Hades grunted when something sharp and cold pierced his sternum.
Vulnerability set its manacles upon him. Pain came next, cutting deep, awakening nerves he'd long since deadened. The freezing heat of agony raced along all possible pathways to reach every last cell in his body. He staggered, feeling as though the world had been turned on its head. The wendway of his mind spiralled across series of colorless nonsense, as if thought itself refused to grace him with its presence. Hades had not felt so lost since… since… He could not even recall how long it had been.
The world came back into view slow and muddy due to this newfound vertigo.
Percy Jackson lay fallen, his body intact, and though he still lived, by the way he writhed on the ground it was clear he'd finally been dealt a punishing blow.
Hades glanced down to check himself. There, protruding from his sternum, was a stone knife. It was an unassuming thing, the blade a simple chunk of flint that was then attached to a wooden handle with twine. The wood appeared weathered, the twine frayed. On its own it did not speak of danger nor did it fearmonger. On its own it could have been mistaken for a museum piece. But lodged in his chest… lodged in the chest of Hades, ruler of the Netherworld… there it proved itself to be anathema to all who might bleed gold and silver.
And yes, devoid of veins as he was, Hades bled. From the edge of the knife, where it met his bleached white bone, seeped a liquid black like tar. For the first time since he had adopted this form, for the first time in many millennia, Hades did bleed.
Each droplet of pitch that slipped free of his body took with it more and more of his strength. His vision continued to falter and cant. Oblivion touched him with a promise of the sweetest rest, and every passing second made it harder to resist.
What sorcery had befallen him? The knife… it must have been the knife. Hades lifted his arm to remove it from his chest. He grasped the handle with a trembling hand. A hundred thousand nerves rip-roared and burned with unholy agony for each hair's breadth of blade that came free from its purchase. The pained rush that filled his skull might have been his own screams once the knife finally left his body. He stared at the profane tool despite the way his arm shook.
What manner of weapon was it? Hades was not well-versed in such things. Long lost names flitted through his muddled mind but he could not catch a single one.
He hurled the knife aside.
Directly across from him, Percy Jackson had managed to roll over and fought gravity and the weakness in his own body to rise at least to his knees. It was a painful thing to watch him struggle. Demigods were such wretched creatures. Forever caught between two worlds, never able to fully settle in either, theirs was a life set for struggle before they drew first breath. The least they deserved was a painless death. Unfortunately for Percy Jackson, he had chosen naught but misery. Or perhaps misery had chosen him. Regardless, he would reap no satisfaction, no joy, no victory today.
Much like Hades himself. The fruits of his labor felt as ash in his mouth. He was fighting a battle entirely of his own sowing, and not even victory would remove the bitterness of his losses.
How could it all have gone so wrong? He'd been the bulwark against catastrophes old and new, safeguarding the world for three thousand years. The Bronze Age collapse, the last days of the Great War, the devils' civil war, the Century of Stampedes, Anubis' rebellion, the Broken Wheel Catastrophe, and both mortal World Wars. If not for him, hostile incursions and the backlash of unbalanced death would have left the world in ruins.
Had all of that meant nothing in the end?
No, no, surely not. Just because they could not understand did not mean he was wrong. Hades knew better than any of them, be they human or god. Only he had seen what might have become of their planet. Now, though, with his intervention, he was sure he had diverted catastrophe.
But had the cost been too high?
Of course not. What was a few million compared to billions? He had done humanity a service, opened the eyes of the masses to the truth. Division was humanity's greatest enemy. In unity, they had strength beyond any other's. Samael would be the one to unite them at Hades' command.
Yes, his actions were condemnable and he deserved punishment. Hades harbored no illusion otherwise. The people he had knowingly sacrificed deserved justice. But justice was not his to dole out. He had been the perpetrator of the great crime. The aggrieved required their own executioner, and as it had been him, a god, who had wronged them, no god could be the vehicle of their justice. Not Zeus, not Athena, and certainly not Hades himself.
Only a human could judge him now.
Hades watched on as Percy Jackson finally completed the gargantuan task of rising to his feet. The demigod's nostrils were flared and his neck strained, as if he were heaving great silent breaths. The sword had not left his hand even for a moment—his knuckles were bone white.
"Starting to get it, huh?" the boy rasped. He spoke haltingly, battling pain, but his eyes remained defiant and angry. His shirt had been left tattered and burned so that it barely hung to him by a strip on one shoulder. Perhaps his skin seemed slightly more red than normal, at least what could be seen despite the mud splattering him. Even so, it was nothing short of miraculous that he still lived. "Not pleasant, right?" he tapped his chest. "Heard you scream. Must hurt."
Hades brought his fingers to the still-seeping wound on his chest. His fingers came away stained with pitch. "You could not fathom…"
"If you can't be bothered to have basic human decency, maybe have the decency to not bother humans." Jackson shook his head and managed to stand straighter. Above them, the storm continued to rage. "We don't need you, Hades. Maybe we did once, but not anymore. And if you think I'm wrong then prove it. Take me down once and for all. End the fight already. I'm sure you're tired of hearing me talk."
A shiver ran down Hades' spine. He glanced at the scepter in his hand and noticed it was little more than cooling slag. Trivial enough to replace, true, but it spoke volumes of the magnitude of power he'd unleashed in his last attack—an attack that Percy Jackson had survived. And while the demigod finally showed signs of injury, Hades could see plenty of fight left.
Why? Hades ground his teeth. Why do Percy Jackson and Jann Wyszynski persist in the face of death itself? They must realize they are doomed. What could possibly be driving them? Hate? Hate alone?
Perhaps Athena was right. Human hatred would have to burn hotter than all others if it could drive them to these levels of madness, to completely disregard safety, to welcome the odds of pain, mutilation, and death. Nothing in their right mind would do so unless they had a better choice. It went against all rational programming. Nothing they gained would have been worth the risk. Hatred must have driven them mad, it was the only thing that made sense.
But at the root of that hatred, Hades suspected a much baser influence.
Fear.
And fear was something Hades himself was a master at inspiring. He knew fear could be replaced, repurposed. Their hatred was not immutable because their fear was not immutable.
Hades gathered his strength. He was far from at his most powerful, and he knew it would not be enough if he continued the way he had been until this point. Up until now, he had been maintaining the barrier around the Netherworld which kept Olympus away, a monumental task even when the realm was entirely complacent with his rule. Now though, as his grip on the realm weakened and his strength waned, it would soon become untenable.
Now that possibility had become inevitability, Hades saw no reason to continue diverting his power. Some strength returned to him, and though not great, he believed it would be enough to see him through the rest of the battle.
"Hmph. Good. Let's finish this." Jackson raised his leg with dramatic languidness, then brought it down hard and fast. With the ground around them already reduced to a quagmire by Jackson's earlier efforts, the mud and muck was swept up by a river's worth—no, five rivers' worth of water which sprang from below the surface, whipped into a frenetic whirlpool that rushed to drown Hades from all directions.
The realization was too little, and simply too late. The mire Jackson had created was not made of plain water. Jackson had gained control over the five rivers of the Underworld. Phlegethon, Acheron, Lethe, Cocytus, and Styx; before he had been so focused elsewhere that he hadn't noticed their corrupting influence eroding his willpower. The knife first, then the demigod himself… all while the rivers mingled in the muck around his ankles.
And how perfectly the dread waters had played their role. They whispered he might find peace in surrender, cajoled him their sweet poison to accept defeat.
With his window closing, Hades acted fast. The Helm of Darkness fell upon his brow once more, his crown of blackest iron. Jackson met his gaze with resignation, knowing his ploy had been undone now that Hades had donned the helm.
A moment within a second slipped between them, and just before the rivers reached Hades he ignited the potent fear in Percy Jackson's mind.
-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-
Together they stood in a city saturated with suffering. A thick cloud of ash smothered the sky above them. They were among a forest of twisted metal and fissured concrete, an altar made by an architect of evil, built and fed by the bones and blood of innocents, choked by pain, strangled with fear, drowned in dread.
The shadow of death clung to the city like tar.
Hades stood slack-jawed. How… How had this happened? Had he not used the helm directly on Percy Jackson? This nightmare was meant for the demigod alone, not for Hades. He controlled the helm, not the other way around. But even if the helm's effects had somehow reflected onto Hades himself, surely this would not have been his own greatest fear… No, of course not. This could only be Jackson's nightmare.
That still begged the question of his presence within it! Not once had this happened before. He never considered it even the most remote possibility. It wasn't possible. It couldn't be possible. It must have been… it must have been…
What else could it be?
This was no simple illusion. Hades could feel his helm actively upholding the nightmare realm they were both in. His own power was being drawn upon to keep it alive. So then how…? Why could he not remove himself from this place?
"What have you done?" Hades whispered.
"Athena figured you'd end up using the Helm of Darkness on me. Said you didn't use it often, really only after your usual brute force didn't pan out." Jackson let his eyes wander. His mouth trembled as he continued, "She really wanted you to use it against me, practically insisted that I should let it happen. Wouldn't tell me why. I knew I'd end up here… didn't think you'd be coming along for the ride."
"This is your thoughtscape, not mine." Hades knew the answer, but wanted to confirm.
Jackson nodded. He still seemed lost in absorbing the sight around him. His eyes flickered every which way, head slow to swivel around. His voice carried an inextricable slew of emotion, though his tone was soft. "Manhattan. Just like I left it. The first time, I mean. Not after Samael. Not after what you did."
"So this was Athena's doing?" Hades muttered. He could not fathom how, though perhaps she had managed to use Controlled Engagement to force him into this predicament. Or was it due to the sorcerous nexus that she had created across the Netherworld?
"I don't know. But if you're here I guess I'll give you some advice…" Finally, Jackson looked at him. His stare seemed to pierce Hades and travel for leagues beyond. "Brace yourself."
Hades felt his chest continue to throb with lingering pain. The dagger had not materialized in this thoughtscape, but the wound on his chest continued to weep black. At the very least, the five rivers were not lanced through him either. He shook his head. Time was short. He had to destroy Athena before his strength fully waned. If this was Jackson's nightmare, then it stood to reason that being rid of the boy would see him back to the waking world.
He raised his arm.
A crackling ray of red energy carved the air and raced to strike Jackson once again. Hades waited… and waited… and waited… The energy never reached Jackson. It screamed from Hades' fingertip, definitely making its way toward the demigod… but just before it reached him, the energy would wind back the same path it had traveled and retreat to Hades' fingertip, where it would once more leap forth to strike Jackson… and then it would retreat again.
Again and again and again, the energy continued to race out from his hand and then vanish and then race out again, and Hades could do nothing to stop it because… because time itself was pitted against him.
Space seized and twisted, and Hades was made painfully aware of a growing distance between himself and the demigod. Physically, they were no further apart than just a moment ago, but something seemed to stretch in that empty space that separated them—a wall in the form of a marathon. Except no, it was not a distance that could be measured in steps but rather one measured by an hourglass.
Jackson must have noticed it too. His eyes widened a fraction. He held himself as a startled animal might, shocked into inaction. A single drop of sweat fell from the edge of his jaw.
A thousand bells tolled and the nightmare grew cold.
The bleeding wail of a dying klaxon rolled from Heaven and Hell.
Hades was nearly driven to madness by the phantom sensation of glass scraping furrows across his bones.
Blindness found him when the clouds of ash became shimmering currents of cosmic power the likes of which he had not seen or felt or heard or tasted or smelled in thousands of years.
And when the helm had finally done its work, when Heaven and Hell fell silent and the cosmos lost all luster, Hades saw what he had wrought.
An avatar of the ultimate evil stood before Percy Jackson. He was in a form that Hades did not recognize—that of a young man dressed in modern clothing, with fair hair and an ugly scar on his face—but when he grinned it was with the same contemptuous malice that Hades attributed to one person alone.
"Percy Jackson." His voice was cold and heavy, so laden with venom that it forced the world to shudder with revulsion. The air itself became miasma, and though Hades had no need to breathe, he still felt the poison invade every last part of him. "Once, I told you that not even death would keep us apart. As I recall, you spit in my face. But now you must realize just how foolish it was to believe otherwise. I am Alpha and Omega, First and Last, Beginning and End."
"You're not real," Jackson said. He swallowed thickly. Despite their newfound distance, Hades could see the demigod's breath shorten and the hair on his neck raise. "You're an imitation. A fake made by Hades and his damn helm."
"I am real, rest assured." The avatar of evil summoned a scythe to his hands. It gleamed wickedly in the dim light. The scythe-edge promised naught but suffering. "It took time to find you after our last encounter… but time is something I have in excess. Whatever miracle you performed to elude me cannot save you again. Abandon hope, abandon your thoughts of a future or past or present where I fail. This moment, our battle, is your inescapable forever after."
"I killed you—I know I killed you." Percy's mouth trembled. His eyes darted over the avatar's face, as if he hoped to find something that might confirm his words.
A cruel laugh caused the sky to tremble. "Abandon that delusion as well! You cannot kill me. I am the Titan King, Ruler of the Universe, Lord of Time. Did you believe you had escaped this moment? No, Percy. You did not escape, you cannot escape. After all, you are already dead. You only exist within this moment, no further. This simulacrum you fled to is little more than a tumor in need of excising. When next you die, this phantom timeline will cease to perpetuate."
It took Hades too long to understand exactly what this nightmare entailed, but when it did come to him, the realization made him feel physically ill. In another world, in another time, Percy Jackson had fought the Titan King. Hades could not fathom it. He recalled his father, the power he wielded, the war which they fought.
Ten years of war.
A nightmare, Hades reminded himself, this is only a terrible nightmare. Kronos cannot harm me here. He remains in Abyssal Tartarus. There is no escaping from Abyssal Tartarus. This Kronos is not real.
"Fine," Percy spat. His fear had morphed into hate, and it was only hate that spilled from him now, equal to the Titan King's own. "I'll kill you again if I have to, Kronos. Might even get to enjoy it this time."
"It seems this phantom timeline has given you some measure of hope. Excellent. Your fall will be all the sweeter because of it!"
They clashed.
Their weapons met—a single swing that brought sword and scythe together—and a shockwave pulverized the sagging buildings around them, spraying brick, mortar, metal, and glass across the road like an arterial flood.
Hades felt his bones quake as the shockwave passed through him.
A scream like thunder was ripped from the world.
The demigod and the Titan King remained locked in that moment for the barest sliver of eternity, their struggle for domination a discordant trill against the background of creation, ad infinitum.
How…? Hades did not know how the boy could hold his ground. Given how Kronos' eyes narrowed by the slimmest margin, he likely felt a similar way. Even as a mere shadow of his true self, the Titan King cannot be stopped by a mortal.
Their competition ended mutually when both pushed away from their blades.
"That buddha has given you some new measure of strength." Kronos cocked his head back and eyed Percy critically. "Impressive but futile nonetheless."
"We'll see about that." Percy thrust his hand out and curled his fingers. Kronos staggered back as if he'd been struck. "I won't make this easy."
The Titan King struggled against some invisible power with a grimace, sweat gathering at his temples as he took a step toward Percy. "Old dog, old trick. A mongrel like you… ought to know better than to snap its jaws so petulantly."
Percy renewed his efforts by tensing his hand, as if he was crushing Kronos from afar. The demigod huffed and panted as their struggle continued. His mouth was set into an unmoving grimace. He appeared fully concentrated, but Hades could see how the strain was slowly overcoming him.
Kronos' right leg trembled, to which Percy's eyes betrayed worry. Both of them redoubled their effort. Percy's breathing became ragged. Kronos seemed pained but his lips split into a grin nonetheless. It was becoming clear who would win this bout.
Their contest brought with it an immense pressure that squeezed Hades from all sides. It was as if he was caught between two immovable walls of force. He couldn't so much as twitch. Whether the pressure came as an extension of their clashing power or simply a product of Hades' own imagination was indeterminable.
Then, Kronos took another step forward, and Percy reeled with an anguished wheeze. The pressure disappeared almost instantly, and Hades could once more move freely. But he dared not. Surely he could not infringe upon this nightmare more. Surely not. But he dared not even take the risk. If the Titan King saw him… If the Titan King acknowledged him…
What might happen then? Hades did not care to find out.
And so when Percy fell to one knee, coughing and spitting blood and panting and wheezing, Hades tensed.
Stand up. Fight. Stand up, Percy Jackson.
There was no question in his mind about who was the lesser of the two evils. Percy Jackson had to win. If Hades could not interfere, then it would be up to the demigod to break the nightmare.
And you can't do that on your knees! Stand up!
Kronos flourished his scythe, well amused. "Valiant effort, Jackson. Had you not spared your dragon its fate perhaps that would have worked. To think, it does not even know what you sacrificed for it. A shame."
Percy wiped away the blood dripping from his mouth and stood up. "She doesn't have anything to do with this."
"She? How fond of your pet you've become. Or is it the other way around? I assume a beast as pompous as Tiamat demands a certain level of loyalty and subservience." The Titan King's shoulders rose and fell in silent laughter. "In this one way, you are painfully predictable. It is good to know you have not changed. Mortals in this age are so soft."
They readied their weapons. They charged forward. They clashed again.
Kronos guided the boy's sword away from his face and struck out with a closed fist. The supersonic blow sent Percy careening down the street, tearing through asphalt and concrete until he tumbled to a painful stop against a pile of rubble.
Time slowed. Percy got back to his feet, wheezing, dripping more blood from his mouth and nose, but with all the hate from before still intact. Time reverted.
They readied their weapons. They charged forward. They clashed again.
Percy flicked the water from his blade into Kronos' eyes, momentarily blinding him, and slammed the pommel of his sword against the Titan's chin. Then, he plunged his blade into the ground and shook the earth. Manhattan collapsed as the land it was built upon shattered and sank.
Time slowed. Kronos and Percy were dragged beneath a hundred thousand tons of rock and metal and water, crushed on all sides by the compressive weight bearing down upon them. Time reverted.
They readied their weapons. They charged forward. They clashed again.
Kronos weathered a storm of swings and thrusts, every parry precise, every dodge impeccable, as if he had seen it all before. Before long, he had pushed into Percy's space and jabbed the butt of his scythe into the boy's gut. As Percy doubled over, Kronos raised his scythe, aiming for his back.
Time slowed. Time reverted.
They clashed again.
Percy tore his body apart as he moved without restraint. He fought harder against Kronos than he had against Hades. With his newfound strength courtesy of the Monkey King's tutelage, he pushed beyond what Kronos had seen before, knowing his body came from nothing and would eventually return to nothing regardless of if he won or lost. He caught a wide swing with the perfect parry and sent the scythe careening into the ash cloud above them.
Time slowed. Time reverted.
They clashed again.
The three of them remained in their roles for an age. Kronos, unrelenting. Percy, undeterred. Hades, unknowable. To them, the outside world was lost, too far to consider as anything but fantasy. Their present was also their past and their future. This battle was the only thing that truly existed.
They clashed again.
Time slowed. Time stopped.
Stopped.
Stopped.
And then, against all reason and law that governed his Helm of Darkness, Hades felt eyes acknowledge him. Cold eyes. Timeless eyes. He gasped. Kronos was looking at him.
Impossible!
Here, in the thoughtscape created by the Helm of Darkness, he should have been immutable. It was he who governed the realm of terror, nobody else! He held the power of the Helm of Darkness. It served him, no other. So Kronos could not see him. Kronos did not have any true power here. It simply couldn't be. No, there was no way. Logically, there was no merit. His sorcery was simply too powerful. Hades would not be fooled by some trick of his mind into believing that Kronos held any sway over him!
"There you are, Hades."
No!
Kronos reached out and pushed against the thin membrane of surreality that separated them. Time was slipping away from Hades. He had to act now if he wanted to escape this horrible place.
"Too late."
The warped space separating them—which the Helm of Darkness had created to act as the first and last line of defense in this thoughtscape—folded. Kronos spread from Percy's mind, a disease, an evil thought so powerful that his poison lingered interminably with those who ever had dealings with him. He was a cancer, malignant and abominable, so deeply rooted that excising him was nigh impossible.
"Welcome to my new golden age."
Hades felt the grip of vertigo overcome him as the thoughtscape surpassed its critical mass. The Helm of Darkness could not simulate Kronos further. His presence had already pushed the helm to its limit with only Percy's mind as input. With Hades acting as a second input, the helm failed. It raged and morphed—its final act of bitter defiance at the shadow that had overwhelmed it—then lost its manifestation altogether, creating a runaway thermal reaction that began within Hades' own body.
The thoughtscape collapsed piece by piece, ethereal shards whisked away into a void of pure white. The ground itself became a memory, and Hades fell through it, passing the pure white void, descending and descending, his only companion in crossing from the fleeting nightmare to the waking world being Kronos' taunting laughter.
-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-
He burned upon waking, same as he had in the dream.
The likeness he'd created in the image of humanity was put to the torch when his marrow ignited. Microscopic fractures opened and connected across his bones, widening as the eldritch flame pulsed from within him, fed by his personal connection to the aether. His skeleton splintered and cracked and popped, alive with a hungry fire that would continue to burn so long as it had something to feast upon.
"AAAHHHGGG!"
Hades' scream painted the Netherworld red and black. All other color bled from the world. His energy fed the flames that spouted from his form, a new kindling to bring them roaring to even greater heights. Hades became a hateful sun, and fire walked with him.
Across from him stood Percy Jackson. The five rivers of the Underworld frothed around his feet, nipping at his ankles like impatient hounds ready to be let loose. The boy was dragging in his breaths and stood on tilt toward his right side, finally exhausted, but like any cornered animal he maintained an aura of danger.
Even at a distance, Hades could hear the rivers whispering hopelessness into his ear. He took heed only because he knew he had lost this battle. Athena's goal had been to prepare the way for Zeus, and she had completed it admirably with her motley group. The magics Hades had used to isolate the Netherworld waned considerably now that he'd stopped reinforcing them.
Hades bowed his head. "I am defeated…"
Percy Jackson shifted where he stood.
"But I will not fall alone."
Forgoing sword and scepter, Hades braced himself and raised both his arms high above his head. He would leave nothing behind for history to remember except desolation. His legacy would read about how he ended an era and then began a new one. Nobody would doubt his power. Nobody would doubt his abilities. He'd be known far and wide as the world changer.
A great shatterpoint of converging energy splintered reality above him. The aether gathered until it had such weight behind it that the air throughout the realm burned. It was a sphere that held no distinguishable color despite being brighter than anything that had ever come before it.
For sure, this time, it was the end. And what a finale it had come to!
But now…
Despair, intruders, for I shed no tears in defeat.
Hades glanced toward Percy Jackson. He was met with unexpected resistance in the boy's gaze. With an agonizing, almost mocking slowness, Percy Jackson opened his left hand. Resting on his palm was a fragment of bone.
"That… can't be…"
Percy Jackson breathed on the bone fragment, and it scattered like dust.
From the full-to-bursting emptiness that enveloped all of nonexistence, a mountain fell upon Hades. He grunted and bowed as the immense weight of it pushed him down. Its manifestation only half based on a mirror of the real world, the mountain glimmered as sunlight peeked through a light mist that wafted from the trees and roots subsuming parts of the rocky cliffs. Small waterfalls tumbled into ripple-ponds that hardly reflected a bright full moon in each rolling pool. Birds chirped from branches and turtles lounged on sun-warmed rocks, while deer and goats slept beneath the silver glow of moonlight.
It was a phantom, barely there but still formidable. In this, there was more than the demigod's rage. The artistry went beyond Percy Jackson, as did the harmony. Once, Buddha had humbled the Monkey King with this very same seal, the Five Phase Seal. The Monkey King had spent half a millennium beneath the mountain, despite his great strength. While this was likely not on par with Buddha's seal, it had clearly been crafted by someone with impressive ability.
Hades fell to his knees as the mountain grew in size and scope. The tar gushed from his chest in great spurts now, as an artery might with each beat of a man's heart. His body trembled, near the edge of surrender. This would be the end. But not before he bit back.
"DIE!"
HE SPOKE DEATH.
The aether he'd gathered CRACKED from a million dimensions.
The Netherworld and all those within would DIE.
The great convergent shatterpoint expanded in the blink of an eye, obliterating everything it touched.
"Controlled Engagement: Saving Grace."
Despite the howling madness that engulfed the Netherworld, Athena's voice seemed to echo from all directions. Hades could not see what his nemesis had done due to his current predicament, but he knew better than to assume it was fruitless.
He screamed with all the fury he could muster—what else could he do now, when he'd failed to kill the one person who deserved it the most? More than that, she clearly had expected him to resort to this extreme. That irked him. Not even Hades had planned to go this far, yet Athena had made sure to keep a contingency for this unlikely scenario. It irked him to no end that he could not even surprise her in this way. He'd never had the upper hand, never had a chance, if she had foreseen this ending to their battle.
Athena, in all her selfishness and cruelty, would not die here.
The same could not be said for the others. Hades felt Nyx and Erebus lose their corporeal forms, the shadows they had been hiding in unable to shield them from the aether's warped expulsion. Likewise, Jann Wyszynski was unmade, his mortal frame stripped to the atom with no resistance.
Percy Jackson, too, died.
But then again… he was… already dead?
The word he had spoken, DEATH, struck Percy as it had struck all else sans Athena. And where Athena had protected herself with an indisputable matter-of-fact—her words during a battle could not be anything less than absolute with Controlled Engagement—Percy employed no such thing. Instead, as death touched him, it also touched the countless lives he'd been forced to live in countless timelines, and it touched the miracle that had come from a dream.
So that's how it is…
No wonder the Netherworld could not decide what to do with him. No wonder Thanatos had attacked him. No wonder Tiamat had taken an interest. No wonder Athena had used him for this task. No wonder Hades had instantly taken a disliking to the boy.
It had to be this way.
Apsinthos.
Hades now saw beyond the veil. His eyes were now opened to truth. He'd been so blind—so filled with venom. Who had truly used who?
Are we all in a nightmare now, Dragon-Eater?
The word DEATH did not care between nightmare and waking dream. The Netherworld broke, and all those within sans Athena and Hades died. When the shatterpoint erased itself from existence with nary a whisper or a scream, naught wind nor tremor, only he and Athena remained, occupying the last pieces of floating land that used to be expansive.
All too soon, the Abyss bled into the space where once was Hades' realm. The silence echoed across all creation, so loud and all-consuming that it might have been mistaken for the chatter of an infinite number of creatures. But the Abyss was perfectly quiet. It made no noise. It was just barely there, taking up more space than their known universe, little more than red and orange.
Hades grunted as he grew weaker. A sizeable puddle of tar had formed beneath him now, spilled from his chest. The mountain grew heavier. Ironically, he imagined the mountain to have protected him from the aether's chaotic rage. Such was its nature, split between forever and never, everywhere and nowhere. With Hades beneath it, he'd become nigh untouchable.
Athena's voice again reached him, carving trenches across the Abyss' silence. "Was it necessary to go this far, Hades?"
Hades strained to raise his head enough to stare across the expanse of red and orange. Athena stood on her portion of Netherworld, and behind her shimmered the wendways which led out from his realm. Without any other place for them to manifest, they'd manifested all together on that small patch of land. With Athena.
It was deserved, Hades knew. He was no longer fit to govern. To the victor, the spoils. Unfortunately for Athena, she ruled over very little after their battle.
"None of this had to happen," she continued. Her tone remained entirely neutral.
"Does it frustrate you?" Hades asked with as much glib as he could muster.
"I am disappointed. You were once someone I admired." Athena looked at him with neither anger nor pity. In fact, she didn't affect disappointment at all. Her eye pinned him with its dead flat stare. "You had amazing power. More than most. Yet you did not allow yourself to act rashly. You treated everything fairly. You and Zeus both understood the weight a ruler must suffer. I knew my power could never compete with yours, but I thought as long as you remained fair and rational, we need never come to blows. I'm glad, though, I had enough sense to remain skeptical of that wish."
Hades forced out a wheezing chuckle. "Fair? Rational? You lost all of your allies in this battle. What is fair and rational about their sacrifices? Do not speak to me on such lofty subjects until you gain some self-awareness."
She shrugged half-heartedly. "I did not force any of them. All were offered something in return for their assistance. All knew the risk. Fighting you alone would be irrational. I gathered just enough strength to deal with you. Nyx and Erebus will recover given time, I'm sure. If not, then so be it. Jann's death was regrettable but ultimately inconsequential. Braver than most, that one, if misguided. A good hero in the end. And Percy isn't dead—not yet, at least. He's somewhere in the Abyss. Only a handful of people can help him now, and I've no dealings with any bar one. Allies in the moment, tools in the end, they all served their purpose."
Hades shifted beneath the mountain, better positioning himself to hold the weight of it. "Where did I go wrong?" he asked, more to himself than the creature apart from him. Still, he knew she would enjoy answering his question.
"You've earned this one piece of truth from me, Hades—cherish it well, because I'm not sure when I've ever spoken truth: you never stood a chance against me. Do you know why? Because there is conflict in all things." Athena raised a hand to her eyepatch. Her finger slid under the fabric and lifted it, allowing him to see the empty space where her eye should have been. "And I thrive in that conflict. Controlled Engagement. It doesn't quite work the way I've explained it to Zeus." Next, she shrugged off the thick jacket, dropping it carelessly to the ground. She raised her shirt up from the hem to expose her torso. There, he saw scores upon scores of untreated puncture wounds. Her skin was mottled red and blue and brown and black, with bands of thinly puckered skin and scabs collected from her breast to her belly.
"I don't understand," Hades admitted. "You are beyond my comprehension, Athena. Ever since your beginning, you have been unfathomable. Doesn't it make you burn, knowing not a single other person trusts you or understands you? You have no true allies, no true companions, no true friends, no true family. Is that why you're so miserable? Must you drag others down to your level of wretchedness? Does it make you feel strong? Does it fulfill you in ways nothing else can?"
"This is what it took to defeat you Hades. You almost killed me before we came to blows. But you didn't kill me then, and so you had no chance now. I planned my strategy—a simple one really—and set it to action." Athena lowered her shirt. She scooped up her jacket and covered herself once more. "Snatching victory from the jaws of defeat requires sacrifice. Had I more time, I might have devised a better pathway, one that did not necessitate these extremes. Maybe we could have compromised, unlikely as that sounds."
"Never," Hades spat.
Athena grinned nastily. "What a shame."
Before Hades say more, one of the wendways flashed with brilliant light, alerting them of an approach. Hades was forced to watch as Zeus and Poseidon arrived behind Athena. Their coming signaled the true end of this battle, and the true end to his reign. One day they might understand why he acted the way he did. Not today, though.
Humiliated and drained, Hades let his head drop. The puddle of ink beneath him had grown large enough to spill into the Abyss.
What accusation are you levying this time, O wrathful angel?
What action are you taking for your long-dead creator?
How many must suffer for you to be satisfied?
Why, Samael?
Why?
Note:
Life comes at you fast. Finished my degree, got a stereotypical 9-5, yadda yadda. Big thing is I am in a very different place in my life than I was when I started this story. I wanted to make the characters hurt. I needed them to. Best way to develop and grow. Now I wouldn't mind it if they were happier, less miserable. Not sure where that leaves me with this story. I'd planned on making things even more miserable, especially at the end of this chapter, but after revisiting it I just couldn't stomach it. Things will stay at this level of misery for a while, I guess. There's a lot I could say here but I don't think there's a point. I'll try to continue the story. My original notes had the story being halfway done by now, but honestly this is just the end of Act 1 out of 3. Act 2 is Rizevim. Act 3 is Samael (duh). I added too much fat to the bones. Oh well.
Hope you're all doing well.
Thanks for reading.
