Cerulean glow from Crimson Light

My heart stopped the moment I saw Annabeth's leg get yanked toward the pit. A wave of primal fear hit me like a tidal surge, but I didn't think—I just moved. I dove forward, my right hand shooting out, my fingers barely managing to intertwine with hers. My left hand scrabbled against the jagged edge of the rock, finding the tiniest cavity to hold onto.

"Wise Girl!" I shouted, my voice cracking. Annabeth, my Annabeth, lifted her head. Her stormy gray eyes met mine, and for a split second, time froze. Gods, I wanted that moment to last forever. But then a sob escaped her lips, and her eyes brimmed with tears.

In that moment, I felt everything—love, fear, rage—but more than anything, I felt the crushing weight of how unfair this all was. Annabeth had just survived that insane quest for the Athena Parthenos, and now this? Dangling over Tartarus with me, one slip away from doom?

My fingers ached, my grip on the rock weakening by the second. Every muscle in my body screamed at me to let go, but I couldn't. I wouldn't. Even if it cost me everything, I wouldn't let Annabeth fall—not without me.

The memory of what Nico had said hit me like a whisper laced with poison: The Doors of Death had to be freed from both sides—Earth and Tartarus.

Above us, chaos erupted. I could hear our friends shouting, panicking. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Nico scaling down the cliffside about forty feet away. He was clinging to the rock like a spider, his dark eyes scanning for a way to reach us.

Annabeth let out a choked cry, her whole body trembling. Her leg looked like it was being ripped from her by some invisible force. The pull of Tartarus wasn't just physical—it was raw, consuming.

"Percy," she croaked, her voice so faint it nearly broke me. "Let me go. You can't pull me up."

"Never," I said, my voice as steady as I could make it. My eyes stung, but I refused to let the tears fall. "I will never let you fall." Every word felt like an oath, one I'd carve into the fabric of the universe if I had to.

Suddenly, a clank above us caught my attention. A steel chain—massive and gleaming—dropped down, swaying in the air. I glanced up and saw Leo leaning out from the deck of the Argo II, his face tight with concentration as he lowered the chain toward us.

"Annabeth, grab it!" I urged.

She reached up with her free hand and caught it, her fingers wrapping around the cold metal. Relief flooded through me for half a heartbeat, but then I closed my eyes, my vision filling with nightmares: barren wastelands, monsters everywhere, endless darkness. Tartarus wasn't just a place—it was a living, breathing evil.

"Doors of Death," I muttered, the words leaving my lips like a prayer. The air around us seemed to ripple, reacting to the name.

"Nico!" I called out, my voice sharp. He looked at me, his pale face twisted in confusion.

"What?" he yelled back, clinging to the cliffside.

"You have to lead them," I said, my heart pounding. "Take everyone to the mortal side of the Doors."

His eyes widened in horror as he realized what I meant. "Percy, no—"

But I didn't give him time to argue. With one last burst of strength, I hauled Annabeth up, wrapping my arm around her waist. She gasped as I pressed my lips to hers, a desperate, fleeting kiss. Then, tying the chain securely around her, I whispered, "I love you. I'm sorry."

Before she could respond, my hand slipped.

The last thing I saw was Annabeth's tear-streaked face as I plunged into the pit, into the endless darkness of Tartarus.

—Line break—

Days. It felt like I'd been falling for days.

Nine days, Annabeth had told me once. It takes nine days to fall from Olympus to Earth, and nine more to plunge from Earth into Tartarus. Hesiod, the old Greek poet, had written about it.

I really hoped he was wrong.

Time had slipped away from me—seconds, minutes, hours, I couldn't tell anymore. Nine days? Could Annabeth calculate how far I'd fallen by now? She probably could. Annabeth… I hoped she was safe.

My lips were cracked and dry. My cheeks felt tight, streaked with tears I hadn't even realized I'd shed. I hugged myself, shivering in the endless, chaotic fall. I'd never felt this alone before. Every quest I'd ever gone on, I'd always had someone—someone to talk to, someone to rely on. But now? Now it was just me. Me and this infinite abyss.

I tried not to think about it, but my mind kept circling back to one harsh truth: I had to do this. I had to trek through Tartarus. Alone.

The air grew thicker the deeper I fell—heavier than water, more suffocating than oil. It clung to me, slimy and oppressive, and it stung like a thousand tiny needles. Red particles swirled around me, glowing faintly in the darkness, like fireflies from hell. Or maybe I was just imagining the red. Maybe everything was red here.

Memories swirled in my head as I fell, unspooling like a reel of my greatest hits—and my worst. My mom. Paul. Annabeth. Grover. All the people I loved, all the battles I'd fought. They played over and over until I thought I'd go insane. But then, finally, after what felt like an eternity, I saw it: a faint, blinding light below me.

I never thought I'd be happy to see Tartarus. But after the fall, the mental torture… yeah, I was a little relieved to see there was even a surface.

Then it hit me: I was falling fast. Too fast. Physics 101—thank you, Annabeth. Energy equals half mass times velocity squared, which meant I was about to become a demigod pancake.

That's when I spotted it: a river.

It wasn't Lethe or Styx; I'd know those anywhere. The Underworld rivers were never friendly. They were fire and curses and forgotten memories, flowing streams of torment. And I had enough firsthand experience with Styx and Lethe to know this wasn't them.

This river was something else entirely. Its surface churned and shimmered, neither fire nor water, and yet somehow both.

I stretched out my hand, feeling the pull deep in my gut. Pain twisted in my stomach as I focused, summoning the river. I willed it to rise, to catch me, to cushion my fall.

And then the voices began.

"What's the point?" they whispered, soft and venomous, echoing all around me. "You're dead already. You'll never leave this place."

"It's all futile," another voice murmured. "Life is despair. Everything is pointless, and then you die."

The words clawed at me, their sorrow thick as the river itself. For a moment, I almost believed them. Almost.

But I couldn't give in.

Gritting my teeth, I forced the river to bend to my will, guiding its flow. The voices grew louder, promising nothing but misery, but I kept pushing forward, swimming through the thick, roiling current.

Finally, my hand scraped against something solid—sharp and burning hot. Gasping, I dragged myself onto the bank, running on pure adrenaline.

"New Rome… Annabeth…" I whispered, clinging to the dream that felt more impossible than ever.

I let out a dry, bitter laugh, remembering what I'd read about the Underworld rivers. "Cocytus," I muttered. "The River of Lamentation."

The laugh turned into a frustrated groan as I looked around. The "beach" wasn't sand—it was jagged chips of black glass, and several were now embedded in my palms. Beneath my feet, the Cocytus roared, a river of liquid despair. Its sulphurous stench burned my lungs and prickled my skin, leaving rashes wherever it touched.

I was really in Tartarus.

I pushed myself to my feet, ignoring the burning in my palms and the ache in my legs. Tartarus stretched out before me, a landscape so twisted and unnatural it felt like it was alive—and not in a good way. The ground shimmered with a dull red glow, pulsing like a heartbeat. Jagged cliffs jutted out at strange angles, and rivers—rivers of fire, rivers of what looked like liquid shadows—snaked through the land, disappearing into the choking darkness.

It was horrifying. It was overwhelming. And it was deadly silent, except for the occasional echo of distant screams or the low rumble of something massive moving far away.

I wasn't sure where I was going, but I had to move. Standing still in Tartarus felt like asking for trouble, and I had enough of that already.

That's when I heard it.

Footsteps.

At first, I thought I was imagining it—just the wind or my own heartbeat. But then I saw them: shadows moving in the distance, just barely visible in the dim red light. A group of figures, maybe four or five, walking purposefully through the jagged terrain.

Empousai.

I recognized their silhouettes immediately: the mismatched legs—one human, one bronze goat leg—the wild hair, and the way they moved, graceful and predatory.

I froze, instinct kicking in. Empousai weren't just monsters; they were clever, dangerous, and bloodthirsty. If they spotted me, it wouldn't end well.

But what were they doing here? Tartarus was full of monsters, sure, but the empousai moved with purpose, as if they had somewhere to be, something to do.

And leading them was someone I didn't expect to see: Kelly.

Kelly, the empousa who had tried to kill me and Annabeth back at Goode High School. I thought she'd been destroyed, but here she was, alive—or as alive as anything could be in this place—and leading her pack like a queen.

I clenched my fists, anger bubbling up at the memory of her mocking voice, the way she'd nearly killed my friends. But I didn't charge in. Not yet. I had to be smart about this.

Keeping my distance, I followed them, careful to stay out of sight. They weaved through the jagged terrain, occasionally pausing to sniff the air or mutter to each other in a language I didn't understand.

I wasn't sure how long I trailed them—time didn't seem to work normally here—but eventually, they stopped. Kelly turned to her group, and I crouched behind a jagged boulder, trying to catch snippets of their conversation.

Unfortunately, I must've stepped on something because the sound of crunching glass gave me away. Kelly's head snapped in my direction, her fiery eyes locking onto me.

"Well, well," she purred, a wicked grin spreading across her face. "Look who decided to drop by."

Her pack spread out, encircling me like a pack of wolves.

"Percy Jackson," Kelly said, her voice dripping with malice. "You really should've stayed on the surface. Tartarus isn't exactly friendly to demigods."

I didn't wait for her to finish. Drawing Riptide, I lunged at the nearest empousa, slashing through her chest before she could react. She dissolved into ash, but the others were already on me.

They were fast—faster than I remembered—and their claws glinted like obsidian blades. I ducked under one swing, parried another, and kicked an empousa back into her companion.

It wasn't easy. There were five of them, and I was outnumbered, outmatched, and running on fumes. But I fought like my life depended on it—because it did.

One by one, they fell. My movements were automatic, every strike and dodge fueled by sheer determination. I didn't even register the pain at first when one of their claws raked across my side, leaving a deep gash.

The last empousa lunged at me, and I drove Riptide straight through her chest. She exploded into ash, leaving me alone in the silence once more.

I staggered, clutching my side. The cut was bad. Blood seeped through my fingers, warm and sticky. My vision blurred, and for a moment, I thought I was done for.

But then something strange happened.

A surge of willpower erupted within me, more intense than anything I'd ever felt. My powers—my control over water—flared to life, but this time, it wasn't water I was controlling. It was my own blood.

I focused, gritting my teeth as I imagined the blood flowing back into my veins, stopping the bleeding. To my astonishment, it worked. The flow slowed, then stopped entirely, as if my body was responding to my command.

I stared down at my hands, trembling. "What the Hades…" I whispered, barely able to process what I'd just done.

Tartarus was already changing me, pushing me to my limits. And I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a very, very bad one.

I didn't give myself time to rest. The adrenaline from the fight was wearing off, leaving behind an aching, bruised body and a gnawing thirst that wouldn't go away. I stumbled through the jagged landscape of Tartarus, my mind focused on one thing: survival.

The air was thick, oppressive, making it hard to breathe. It was as though the very atmosphere in this place was trying to smother me. My legs felt like lead, and my movements were sluggish, but I kept walking.

It was then that I saw it: a river.

I had heard rumors of all the rivers of Tartarus—Lethe, Styx, Acheron—but this one wasn't any of those. This was the River Phlegethon, its waters a boiling, molten mess of fire and ash. The river's surface burned like liquid metal, the heat radiating from it palpable even from a distance. The very sight of it made me shiver.

But I needed it. I had to keep moving, and I had to stay alive.

My throat was dry, every breath ragged. I didn't want to do it—I didn't want to drink from that river. The thought of ingesting something that could melt my insides made me sick. But the hunger in my gut, the fire in my throat, overpowered my instincts.

I knelt at the river's edge, hesitated for just a moment longer, and then cupped my hands together, dipping them into the molten water. It burned at my skin, the sensation sharp and unbearable, but I forced it to my lips and swallowed.

At first, it felt like my insides were on fire. I gagged, tried to push the water back up, but I couldn't. The heat coursed through my body, searing, burning, and yet, somehow… I felt stronger.

I stood up, my body pulsing with a newfound energy. The fire within me wasn't killing me; it was fueling me.

I took a deep breath, steeling myself, and continued onward.

Hours—or maybe days—passed as I trudged through the hellish landscape. My vision was blurry, my mind foggy, but my legs kept moving. The riverbanks twisted and turned, narrowing into sharp, jagged rocks that reached out to grab at me. And then, just when I thought I couldn't go any farther, I saw him.

Perses.

The Titan stood before me, his massive form almost blending into the darkness of Tartarus. He was tall, with skin that shimmered like molten metal, and his eyes were twin pools of fire, burning with an intensity that made my skin crawl.

For a moment, we just stared at each other.

"You," he said, his voice deep and booming, reverberating through the very air. "I've been waiting for you, Percy Jackson."

I gritted my teeth. "I'm not here for a chat. What do you want?"

He chuckled, the sound like the crackling of a fire. "You think you're so different from the rest of the fools who come to Tartarus? You're just a child, Percy. A demigod. Nothing more. But I—" he spread his arms, his form towering over me, "—I am a Titan. And I will burn you to ash just like I've done with all the others."

I tightened my grip on Riptide, ready for a fight. "You're welcome to try."

And with that, the battle began.

He lunged at me, his arms like molten metal, moving faster than I thought possible. I barely managed to dodge the first strike, rolling away and jumping to my feet in one fluid motion. The ground beneath me cracked, shattered by his strength.

Perses wasn't like the other Titans I'd fought. He wasn't just powerful—he was calculated. Every move he made seemed designed to wear me down. His attacks were relentless, fiery, and each hit felt like I was being burned alive. I barely had time to breathe, let alone fight back.

But I didn't give up. I dodged, parried, and struck when I could. My mind raced, every tactic I knew flying through my head as I looked for an opening.

And then, I saw it.

He had overextended himself, his massive fist swinging wide.

I seized the moment. I rushed forward, Riptide slashing through the air as I drove the sword into his side, where the molten skin was weakest.

The Titan roared, but I didn't stop. I forced the sword deeper, twisting it, and as Perses' scream echoed around us, I knew I had him.

I didn't hesitate.

With a sudden burst of power, I pushed him back toward the River Phlegethon, shoving him into the boiling, molten water.

The Titan screamed in agony as the river's burning waters consumed him. His body writhed, disintegrating as the fire from Phlegethon melted him away. He clawed at the water, but it was useless. The flames licked at him, eating away at his skin until there was nothing left but ash.

I watched as the last of Perses' body dissolved, the flames burning so hot that they seemed to scorch the very air around me. And then, suddenly, it was over.

As the ashes blew away in the wind, a light—a brilliant, white light—engulfed me. I tried to shield my eyes, but the light was blinding. It felt like it was reaching into me, filling me with a power I didn't understand. My body pulsed with it, the energy surging through my veins.

And then, everything went dark.

—Line break—

When I woke up, I was lying on the ground, my vision blurry, the dim light of Tartarus casting a faint glow around me. I groaned, pushing myself up, feeling every muscle ache. But something was different.

My vision was sharper now, everything more vivid. I could see every detail—ash fluttering in the air, jagged rocks in the distance. It was as if my senses had heightened, and I could feel the landscape around me in ways I never had before.

My body was stronger too. The exhaustion from the fight, from the journey, was gone. In its place was raw power, pulsing through my limbs and chest. I felt alive—unstoppable.

I stood up slowly, absorbing the changes inside me. I'd absorbed Perses' power, and with it, something had shifted. My mind felt clearer, sharper. It was like I had access to a deeper understanding of Tartarus, as if I could sense hidden paths and dangers, the things that could kill me without warning.

I didn't know how to control this new power yet, but it was there, deep inside. And it would guide me, keep me alive in this place.

I had no choice but to move forward. This power would either save me or destroy me, but for now, I had to trust it.

I moved carefully now, my footsteps silent, my senses on high alert. I knew that the creatures of this place would be drawn to me if I wasn't cautious, and I couldn't afford to slip up. It wasn't just the monsters I had to worry about anymore—it was everything, every element of this world that could kill me without warning.

Days passed, and I traveled through the harsh terrain of Tartarus, my eyes constantly scanning for danger. The temperature fluctuated between unbearable heat and bitter cold, and the ground beneath me shifted, threatening to swallow me whole. But I kept moving, driven by an instinct I couldn't ignore.

It wasn't long before I stumbled across something unexpected—a temple, old and worn, but still standing strong against the elements. The sign of Hermes was emblazoned above the door, and I recognized it instantly. The god of travelers, thieves, and messages. It felt like a strange kind of fate.

I hesitated before stepping inside, but something about the temple felt safe. Maybe it was the absence of monsters nearby, or maybe it was just my exhaustion catching up to me. Either way, I pushed open the heavy stone doors and stepped inside.

The interior was modest but peaceful, filled with the faint scent of old incense and the remnants of offerings made to Hermes. A stone altar sat at the center of the room, and around it, there were dried flowers and fruit, likely left behind by previous visitors—sacrifices to the god for safe travels or messages sent to the mortal world.

I sat down on one of the stone benches, my body aching from the days of travel, and closed my eyes for a moment, letting the quiet wash over me. I had never felt such stillness before.

After what felt like hours, I noticed a strange, flickering light coming from the altar. I stood up, curious, and walked over to investigate. On the altar, there was a small bowl of what looked like wine and bread.

I had heard of this before. In the mythologies, it was said that sacrifices to the gods could sometimes be answered, and that those who were worthy could send messages back to the mortal world, or receive a reply from the gods. It was a long shot, but I had to try.

I picked up the wine and bread, tasting the sacrificial food. The flavors were strange but strangely invigorating. It felt as if the energy of Tartarus itself was coursing through me, recharging my body. I looked at the altar again, focusing on the idea of sending a message—just a simple message that I was alive.

I closed my eyes and focused, calling upon Hermes, hoping he would hear me. "I'm alive," I whispered. "Tartarus. I'm here. Please, let them know. Please, let Annabeth know I'm still fighting."

I didn't know how long I sat there, but when I opened my eyes again, there was a faint glow emanating from the altar. It was a subtle, ethereal light, but it was enough to make my heart race.

I had done it. The message was sent.

I stayed in the temple for a while longer, resting and gathering my strength. I knew it wouldn't be long before I would have to move again. But for now, this small sanctuary felt like a respite.

Days turned into weeks as I continued my journey through Tartarus, moving with more confidence and awareness, avoiding monsters and dangers that once seemed insurmountable. My mind, fueled by the power I now possessed, made navigating this hellish place a little easier. I could feel the path before me, like a faint glow in the distance.

It was during one of these travels that I found myself in a swamp, the air thick with the smell of decay and stagnant water. The ground was soft and mushy beneath my feet, sucking at my boots as I walked. The place seemed to go on forever, the trees gnarled and twisted, their branches reaching out like skeletal fingers.

And then, I heard it. A low growl, followed by the sound of something moving through the mud. I froze, recognizing the sound of a drakon—one of the most terrifying creatures in Tartarus.

I immediately reached for Riptide, preparing myself for a fight. But then, as I glanced around for the creature, something unexpected happened.

A massive shape loomed over the drakon, and before I could react, the creature was dead. The drakon's body hit the swamp ground with a sickening thud, blood oozing from its wounds. The massive figure that had killed it loomed in front of me, and I immediately realized who it was.

A giant—no, not just any giant, but one who seemed… different.

He was huge, easily twice the size of the largest giants I had fought, his body covered in thick, armored scales. His face was grizzled, with a wild, untamed beard, and his eyes gleamed with an eerie wisdom. The air around him seemed to hum with a strange power.

"Why did you feel like Perses?" the giant asked, his voice deep and resonant. His words carried a weight, and I could tell he was sizing me up.

I didn't know how to answer, so I simply told him the truth. "I killed him. I absorbed his power. Now, I'm trying to survive."

The giant didn't seem surprised by this. Instead, he nodded, his expression softening slightly. "Damasen," he introduced himself, "I've seen your kind before. You're a fighter."

"Percy," I replied, still wary, though he seemed to have no ill intentions. "You killed the drakon. How?"

Damasen gave a small, grim smile. "I'm not like the others. I live alone, out here, in the wilds of Tartarus. You're welcome to stay with me for a few days, if you need a break."

I hesitated for a moment, then nodded. For the first time in what felt like forever, I allowed myself to relax, knowing that for a few days, at least, I wouldn't be completely alone.

As I walked, Damasen shared stories of his time in Tartarus—how he had been cast into this place for his role in the ancient wars, how he had survived for centuries by his own strength. And as he spoke, I couldn't help but feel that this might be the first moment since I had arrived in Tartarus where I didn't feel entirely lost. It was a small comfort, but it was enough to keep me going.

The next morning, after getting a good night's sleep, I felt an overwhelming sense of urgency. Every second counted, and I couldn't waste any more time. "I need to get to the Door of Death," I said, my voice tight with frustration and determination.

Damasen's expression softened, his massive frame hunched in thought. "You're a brave one, boy," he rumbled. "But the Door of Death… it's too dangerous. You're not going to make it there alive. The best option is to go to Akhlys."

"Akhlys? Who's that?" I asked, confused.

"She's the one who can help you get closer," Damasen continued. "But don't mistake this for salvation. To find her, you must go to the deepest part of the swamp. There's no returning from there, not unless she decides to spare you. You'll be guided by the death mist. It's a powerful magic, one that can shield you from monsters and even Titans."

My mind raced. I needed to leave Tartarus, and I needed to do it fast. "Then I'll go. Take me there."

Damasen sighed deeply, shaking his head. "I cannot go with you, boy. This swamp is the only place I know. My path ends here."

His words hit me like a punch to the gut, but I wasn't ready to give up. I remembered the cryptic line from the prophecy: Foe bears arm to the Door of Death. It stuck with me. I had to make it through. I couldn't die in this place—not without giving it everything I had.

"Please, Damasen," I pressed. "Think of what you've seen. Remember my face. I'll come back for you. I'll find a way to get you out."

For a moment, the giant's gaze softened, but then he shook his head once more. "You must go alone. I can't help you."

I turned and walked away, my heart pounding. The time for hesitation had passed. I had to trust his advice and find Akhlys.

The swamp was thick with decay, the air heavy with an almost palpable sense of dread. My heart raced, but I kept moving. I had no choice.

After what felt like an eternity, I found her.

Akhlys stood before me, her form a grotesque sight. Her hunched, crooked body seemed to radiate misery. Her skin was wrinkled and decayed, and her face twisted with years of suffering. The air around her trembled with despair. On her shoulder was a massive shield—the one I had seen in my history lessons. It was the shield of Hercules, bearing her twisted face.

Her voice echoed through the heavy air. "So, you seek me out, boy. You wish to survive, don't you?" She chuckled, a sound full of agony. "Just like Hercules. You won't make it. Even he died miserably."

I didn't falter. I needed her help, and I wasn't about to let anything stop me. "I'm not asking for an easy way out. I'm asking for a chance. I need to get to the Door of Death. You're the only one who can help me."

Akhlys narrowed her eyes, studying me. "You're so determined. Perhaps foolishly so. Do you know what it takes to reach the Door of Death? It's beyond all that's mortal. You want an easy death? No one survives the journey. The only way to get there is if you're already dead."

I swallowed hard. The pressure of desperation was building in my chest. "Then, please. Give me what I need. I can't die here. I won't."

Akhlys cackled bitterly. "Foolish child. Very well. You want to live? You want the death mist? Follow me."

She led me to the edge of Tartarus, where the very air seemed to shimmer with overwhelming darkness. Beyond that point, there was nothing—an endless void where only Night and Chaos dwelled. I could feel the weight of that emptiness pressing against me, but I followed her without hesitation.

"Here," Akhlys said, stopping near a jagged outcropping of black stone. She reached into the abyss and pulled something out—a dark orb of liquid that seemed to absorb all light around it.

"This is it," she said, her voice cold. "The death mist. Once it touches your skin, you'll become invisible to all eyes—monsters, Titans, everything. But be warned—the price for this gift is steep. There's no going back."

I didn't hesitate. My mind was focused on the goal. "I'll take it."

Akhlys grinned, a twisted expression. She approached me and poured the liquid onto my skin. The moment the mist touched me, I felt a coldness overwhelm me, like my very soul was being stripped away. But then, the cold faded, replaced with a numbness that was oddly comforting. The sharp clarity of being unseen took over. I was invisible.

Akhlys stepped back, her eyes gleaming with malicious amusement. "Now, go. But know this—you will never leave this place alive. The mist will keep you hidden, but it will not save you from what's to come."

Before I could respond, she lunged at me, claws extended. She attacked with a fury, her movements blurring in the air. I dodged and fought back, but I could feel the poison dripping from her hands. It was overwhelming, but I had no choice but to press on.

Frustrated, Akhlys raised her arms, calling forth the deadliest of poisons. They crackled in the air like lightning as she hurled them toward me. My heart raced, but then, instinctively, I raised my hand and willed the poison to stop. I focused, tapping into the power I had absorbed from Perses.

The earth trembled beneath me. The poison swirled and lashed back at Akhlys, overwhelming her in an explosion of force. The ground cracked open beneath us, and with a final, desperate push, I hurled her off the edge of Tartarus. Her screams echoed into the emptiness of Chaos.

The tremors subsided, and the air grew still. But then, suddenly, the darkness split. A presence of unimaginable power filled the space. A cold, primordial voice resonated around me.

"So, you have claimed your victory, mortal."

I froze. My body went rigid as the voice washed over me. From the shadows, a figure emerged—Night, the Primordial. Her form was like the void itself, ancient and filled with an overwhelming power. Her gaze locked onto me, and for the first time in my life, I truly felt the weight of the universe pressing down on me. But I didn't have time to dwell on it. Not yet.

Nyx's presence loomed over me like an endless abyss, her eyes glowing with ancient, primordial power. The air was thick with the weight of her gaze. Her voice was like a whisper that echoed in the deepest corners of my mind. "So, you have come, mortal. I must admit, I find it... curious. A creature such as yourself, struggling so fiercely to escape this place. You would make a fine offering to me. A sacrifice worthy of my power."

I wasn't going to let her intimidate me—not now, not when I had come so far. I had to think quickly, so I resorted to my last line of defense: wit and humor. "Sacrifice? Oh, come on, that's not necessary. I'm just a tourist passing through, really. I've heard so much about the place, you know? The swamp, the Empousa, the forests, the River Phlegethon, and even the Moirai... but no one mentioned you! That's gotta mean something, right? If no one's heard of you, maybe you're just not miserable enough to be famous. I mean, sure, you're powerful, but—"

Nyx's eyes flickered, and her expression turned cold. "You dare mock me, mortal? I am the mother of the mother of all misery. I birthed pain and suffering long before you were ever conceived. I gave life to the very concept of darkness, and you—"

She stopped herself mid-sentence, and I knew I had her attention. Time to push further. "Okay, okay. But, hear me out. You're the mother of misery, right? I get it. But if you really want to make your mark, you should've been in the tour guide's pamphlet. They mentioned everyone else: the swamp's creepy vibe, the dangerous Empousa, the menacing forest, even the river. But you? Not a peep. So, I gotta assume, maybe, just maybe... you're not miserable enough to be included in the big brochure. I mean, the others were legends! And you—well, let's just say you're a little underrated."

There was a long pause. Nyx's form seemed to flicker with rage, but I kept my face neutral, my eyes locked on hers.

Finally, she spoke, her voice dripping with fury. "You are a fool, boy. I am the mother of all misery. I birthed the concept of suffering itself. My children are the living embodiments of pain. I gave life to: Erinyes, the Furies, who torment the guilty; Nemesis, the goddess of retribution and vengeance; Thanatos, the personification of death; Morpheus, the god of dreams who plagues those who sleep; and Hypnos, the god of sleep, who brings suffering through eternal slumber. Do not speak to me of fame, for I am the essence of despair."

The darkness around her deepened as she spoke of her children, each name filling the air with an ominous weight. Her fury was palpable. I could feel the power building up within her, ready to engulf me. But I wasn't about to give in. I had a plan, and it had to work.

I took a step back, then grinned. "Okay, okay, you've made your point. You're really miserable. But tell you what—why don't we put it to the test? Let's see who's truly the darkest and most miserable. I've got a few friends who might want to join the competition."

Nyx raised an eyebrow, her interest piqued. "You think you can challenge me, mortal?"

I nodded with confidence. "I've heard the legends, you know? Your children are powerful, sure, but let's see how they stack up against each other. The Furies, Nemesis, Thanatos... I bet they're all fighting for the title of 'darkest.' You know what they say—misery loves company, right?"

Nyx's face twisted with disdain, but her curiosity got the better of her. "Very well. You will see what happens when my children turn on one another."

With a wave of her hand, the shadows around her began to stir. I could feel the energy shift as her children emerged from the depths of the darkness. The Furies howled, Nemesis glared with vengeance in her eyes, Thanatos emanated a chilling aura, and Morpheus floated just above the ground, his eyes clouded with the power to bring nightmares. Hypnos, meanwhile, hovered near the edges, his presence almost invisible.

And then it happened. The moment they saw each other, the competition began. The Furies screamed with rage, accusing one another of weakness. Nemesis spat venom, claiming that no one could embody vengeance as perfectly as she could. Thanatos, ever the cold and calculating god, challenged them all, his touch bringing the sensation of death itself. Morpheus and Hypnos joined in, their powers clashing as they competed for the title of the darkest of them all.

It didn't take long before their rivalry spiraled out of control. Their powers clashed, sending waves of darkness rippling through the air, creating a thick shroud of blackness that engulfed the entire space. I could barely see through the endless veil of shadow, but I knew this was my chance. The darkness was my cover.

I turned and bolted, racing past Nyx's palace. The sheer weight of her power pressed against me, but I kept moving, knowing that crossing her palace with my eyes open could drive me insane. So, I kept my eyes shut tight, relying on my other senses to guide me. The air felt colder as I passed through the endless halls of Nyx's palace, but I didn't dare look.

Finally, I reached the edge of the palace and saw it—the River Acheron, the river that led to the Door of Death. The dark waters swirled, and I could feel the chill creeping up my spine. I had to jump. I didn't have a choice.

I crouched and, with every ounce of strength I had, I launched myself over the river. The power I had gained from Perses surged within me, giving me the strength and speed I needed to clear the river. My feet just barely grazed the edge of the water as I sailed over it, landing on the other side.

I didn't have time to celebrate. The Door of Death stood before me, an imposing structure surrounded by a sea of monsters—hundreds, maybe thousands, all gathered around the threshold. I felt a chill run down my spine as I realized the enormity of what I was about to face. It wasn't just the Door of Death. It was a battlefield, a final trial.

I was closer than ever, but my fight was far from over.

As I moved cautiously through the sea of monsters, my mind was focused, my heart pounding in anticipation of the dangerous steps ahead. I could feel the weight of the situation bearing down on me. The monsters, though fierce, didn't seem to notice me as I slipped past them, inching closer to the gate that separated me from my goal. Each step brought me closer to freedom, but also to the unknown horrors that lay beyond.

I knew I had to be swift. Discreetly, I reached for the chain on the door, my fingers working quickly to untie it without attracting attention. The gate stood before me, guarded by two formidable Titans—Hyperion and Krios. They were massive, their forms towering and formidable, but I had no choice. I had to get through.

With one final glance at the giants, I slipped into the elevator, hoping I wouldn't be noticed. The heavy doors closed behind me, sealing me inside the small metal space. The moment the elevator descended, the weight of the world seemed to lift for a brief moment—until the doors opened again, revealing the chaos inside.

A smoky green aura exploded out of the shadows, wrapping around me like a suffocating force. I tried to fight it, but the power coursed through me uncontrollably. As the aura enveloped me, the words slipped from my mouth before I could stop them, threatening Leo, Hazel, and Annabeth.

"Don't—" I tried to shout, but the words came out harsh and distorted. The green haze was pulling at my mind, clouding my thoughts and twisting my emotions. I struggled, my heart racing as I tried to regain control, but the aura pressed harder, filling my chest with an overwhelming pressure.

And then my eyes fell on Annabeth.

Seeing her, something snapped. The aura's grip on me faltered, and with a desperate surge of willpower, I ejected it from my body. The green haze was thrust back into its original form, revealing itself as the giant Clytius, his twisted grin now twisted in anger.

"Foolish mortal," Clytius bellowed, his massive hands reaching out toward me. The air trembled with his fury.

A wave of rage surged through me, and without thinking, I charged at the giant, using the power I had acquired from Perses. My sword glowed with destructive energy, and with a single swing, I struck Clytius, the force of my blow causing the earth to shake beneath us.

The quake reverberated through the giant's body, rattling his bones and muscles. The earth trembled in response, and I watched as the giant staggered, his massive form shaking as the power of the earthquake coursed through him.

But it wasn't enough. Clytius grinned through the pain, his massive hands reaching for me. With one final swing, I raised my sword and cleaved the giant's head from his body.

The moment the head hit the ground, Clytius' body twitched, and his head flew back into place. The giant's eyes flickered open, and he roared in defiance, his body regrowing. He mocked me with a sneer, his voice booming. "You think you can kill me, boy? I am immortal!"

I didn't care. I wasn't going to stop. With a furious snarl, I raised my sword again and swung, beheading Clytius once more. His body slumped, but again, he revived. Each time, he mocked me with cruel laughter, as if the endless cycle of death and rebirth were nothing to him.

"Stop, Percy!" Annabeth's voice cut through the chaos, her words filled with a mix of concern and fear. "Please, stop!"

I froze, the sword still raised, my eyes glowing green with the power I had drawn from the earth. The rage inside me seemed to dissipate at the sound of her voice, but it was hard to ignore the need to make him pay for threatening her.

For a moment, everything went still.

That's when I felt it—the dark, unearthly presence that filled the air.

A figure appeared before us, the shadows shifting around her. She was tall, dressed in flowing robes that seemed to blend into the very darkness of the room. The moment she spoke, the power in her voice resonated through the air.

"Enough, Percy," Hecate's voice echoed, powerful and final. Her gaze locked onto Clytius, her hands glowing with magical energy. "I will end this."

With a simple gesture, she raised her hands, and a bolt of pure energy shot toward Clytius. It pierced through him, burning with a light so intense that it consumed his very essence. The giant howled in agony as he disintegrated into nothingness, his form crumbling away into dust.

For a brief moment, there was silence.

Then everything went black.

I felt my body go limp, the strength draining from me. I collapsed, unconscious, the overwhelming exhaustion of the battle and the constant strain of Tartarus finally catching up with me.

I was vaguely aware of Annabeth's voice calling my name, but it was distant, muffled by the void that swallowed me whole.

I blinked awake, the soft hum of the Argo II vibrating beneath me. My head was heavy, and for a moment, I wondered if I had imagined everything—the crushing weight of Tartarus, the endless battles, the towering giants. But the familiar ceiling of my room, the sound of the ship's engines, and the warmth of the bed beneath me told me it was real. It wasn't a dream.

I sat up, my muscles sore, and dragged myself to the mirror. My reflection greeted me with a face that was both familiar and strange. I looked thinner, a little taller, my body marked with new scars—each one a reminder of the horrors I'd faced. But it was my eyes that caught my attention. There was something different about them—an almost imperceptible reddish speck, barely noticeable but undeniable. It made me wonder if the power of Tartarus had left its mark on me in more ways than one.

With a deep breath, I pushed the thoughts aside. I couldn't linger on them—not now. There was still so much to do, so much to fix.

I walked out of my room, my feet carrying me to the meeting area. As I approached, I could hear voices—voices that, for the first time in a long time, sounded like home. I stepped inside and saw them all gathered around the table: Annabeth, Leo, Reyna, Nico, and Coach Hedge. They were in the middle of a conversation, but the moment Annabeth saw me, everything stopped.

She stood up in a flash, and before I could even process it, she was in front of me, her arms wrapping around me tightly. I hugged her back, my chest tightening as I held her close. It felt like an eternity had passed since I'd last seen her, and in that moment, all the fear, the pain, and the uncertainty of Tartarus melted away.

"Percy," Annabeth whispered, her voice shaking with emotion. "I missed you so much."

I felt tears spring to my eyes, though I couldn't remember the last time I'd cried. She pulled back slightly, her hand coming to my chest, and before I could say anything, she punched me lightly.

"You idiot!" she scolded, her voice tinged with both relief and frustration. "You went to Tartarus alone? You didn't let me come with you? Do you have any idea how scared I was?"

I was about to say something—anything—but before I could, I kissed her. It wasn't anything planned. It was just the need to feel her, to remind myself that we were both here, alive. When I pulled away, I whispered against her lips, "I couldn't let you go to Tartarus. You're too precious to me, Annabeth. I couldn't lose you."

She looked at me, her eyes soft but still filled with concern. But then, she just nodded, as if understanding that it had been something I had to do.

It wasn't until I pulled away that I noticed Reyna was also in the room. She was standing off to the side, looking at me with a quiet intensity. Apparently, she had traveled all the way across the Atlantic on her pegasus, her determination matching the usual fire in her eyes.

"We need to figure out what to do with the Athena Parthenos," Reyna said, her voice steady and filled with purpose. The conversation quickly shifted back to their plans. I stayed silent for the most part, still feeling the weight of everything, but I couldn't help but listen.

It was decided that Reyna, Nico, and Coach Hedge would take the Athena Parthenos to Camp Half-Blood while the Argo II would head east toward Athens. A practical solution, one that would put us closer to what we needed to do next, but still, I felt a gnawing emptiness in my gut.

Throughout the conversation, I could feel everyone's eyes on me. They were watching me, waiting for me to show them how I had been affected by Tartarus. They could see it in my face, feel it in the air. I couldn't hide it, not anymore.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of glances, Leo spoke up, his voice light, though laced with a hint of concern.

"So, uh, Percy…" he began, "What happened in Tartarus? What was it like?"

I looked down, avoiding their gazes. My fingers gripped the edge of the table, and for a brief moment, the words caught in my throat. I had gone through so much, seen so much, and even now, I didn't know how to put it into words.

"I don't think I can tell you yet," I admitted, my voice softer than I intended. "Not right now."

I could feel the eyes of my friends on me, but I couldn't bring myself to meet them. I wasn't ready. Not yet.

Annabeth, ever understanding, gently placed her hand on mine beneath the table. I could feel the warmth of her touch, and it grounded me in a way nothing else could. She didn't say anything. She didn't need to. She just held my hand, letting me know that she was there, and that I didn't have to face it alone. Not anymore.

In that moment, I knew that eventually, I would be able to tell them. But for now, I needed time. Time to process everything, time to heal. And for the first time in what felt like forever, I wasn't alone. I had my friends. I had Annabeth. And that, in itself, was enough to give me hope for whatever came next.

The journey had been going on for weeks now, but something about me felt... different. I was still me—sarcastic, witty, the guy who'd always find a way out of a sticky situation. But there was a shift in me that no one could ignore, especially not me. It wasn't obvious at first, but as time passed, I realized that something inside had changed.

I couldn't quite place it. Maybe it was the way I moved now—always alert, constantly scanning my surroundings, like I was waiting for something to happen. I was always on edge. I didn't even know if I could relax anymore. It wasn't something anyone had really pointed out yet, but I could feel it. It was in the way I walked, the way I held myself—more controlled, more tense. As if I could snap at any second. I didn't like it. It felt like a shadow I couldn't shake off.

And then there was Annabeth. That hadn't changed, and it probably never would. If anything, I needed her more than ever. She was my anchor, my rock. I couldn't get enough of her, couldn't stay far from her for too long. We always found ourselves gravitating towards each other, no matter where we were. It wasn't just that I wanted to be close to her. I needed it. It was like she was the only thing that could pull me back from the brink of whatever dark place I felt myself slipping into.

One night, we were sitting together in my cabin on the Argo II. The evening sun was dipping below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow over everything. I was fiddling with a notebook, scribbling down thoughts that didn't make much sense, but Annabeth's gaze never left me. She was watching me like she was trying to figure out what was going on in my head.

"Percy," she said softly, breaking the silence. Her voice was calm, but there was concern in it, like she could see the change in me that I couldn't hide. "What's going on with you? You've been... different. Since Tartarus."

I put down the pen and rubbed my face. The weight of her words hit me harder than I expected. How did I even begin to explain it? I wasn't even sure what had happened to me down there. But Annabeth deserved the truth, and I knew I couldn't keep it from her forever.

"I—" I stopped myself, trying to gather my thoughts. "I met her."

Annabeth tilted her head slightly. "Who?"

"Nyx," I said, my voice low. "The primordial goddess of the night."

Her brow furrowed. "Nyx? What happened? Why would you—"

"I don't know," I interrupted, rubbing the back of my neck. "She was just... there. Waiting for me. Like she knew I was coming. She told me I'd make a perfect sacrifice. That I was full of misery."

Annabeth's face softened with concern, but she didn't interrupt. She just waited for me to continue.

"It was more than just her words," I continued. "Being near her felt... wrong. She has this presence, this power, that makes everything feel heavy. I don't even know how to explain it. It's like she was the embodiment of darkness. I couldn't escape it."

Annabeth reached out and touched my hand, her fingers warm and reassuring against my skin. "Percy, you don't have to carry that burden alone. Whatever happened... you don't have to keep it all inside."

I squeezed her hand, but the weight of it all didn't seem to lift. "It's not that easy, Annabeth. I feel like a part of me is... gone. I don't even know what to do with this new side of me. It's like I'm not fully myself anymore, and I can't go back to who I was before."

She tilted her head, studying me carefully. "You don't need to go back, Percy. You just need to move forward. And I'll be here with you. Always."

I wanted to believe her. I wanted to believe that things could go back to normal, that whatever darkness had seeped into me could be pushed aside. But the truth was, I didn't think I could ever go back to being the way I was before. Tartarus had changed me, and I wasn't sure if that change would ever fade.

I looked down at my hands, feeling the pulse of power that had awakened inside me. "There's more," I said, almost to myself. "She has children. Misery incarnate. They're... darker than I could've imagined."

Annabeth's voice was gentle, but it was filled with understanding. "Tell me what happened."

I hesitated, but then the words just spilled out. "I met them. The children of Nyx. One of them made me feel like I was drowning in misery. Like I couldn't escape it. But I fought back, Annabeth. I had to. I couldn't let it take me."

She moved closer to me, and without thinking, I pulled her into a tight hug. I needed to feel her warmth, to remind myself that there was still good in the world, even if I couldn't see it all the time. She hugged me back, her arms strong and steady around me.

"You don't have to carry that weight by yourself," Annabeth whispered. "Whatever happens, we'll face it together."

I pulled back, looking into her eyes. "I don't know if I can keep doing this, Annabeth. But... I don't want to do it without you."

Annabeth smiled softly, her hand still holding mine. "Then you don't have to. We'll figure it out, Percy. Together."

And for the first time in what felt like forever, I felt a flicker of hope. Maybe this darkness inside me wouldn't win. Maybe, with Annabeth by my side, I could find my way out of it. Maybe there is still a future for me yet.

The sea roared around us as the Argo II sailed through the churning waters, its sails whipped by the wild storm. Jason and I stood at the front of the ship, trying to steer the vessel through the relentless waves. I could feel the storm growing worse with every passing minute, the wind howling, the sea crashing against the hull. Something was off. The storm wasn't natural, and I could feel it in my gut.

That's when we saw her.

Emerging from the roiling ocean was Kymopoleia, goddess of violent storms, and to my surprise—my half-sister. Her eyes were filled with fury, and she was the one responsible for the storm that was trying to sink us.

"Why are you doing this?" Jason called out, trying to make sense of the madness. "What's the point of all this?"

Kymopoleia didn't answer right away. She only laughed, the sound of it echoing like thunder in the sky. "You think you can outrun the storm?" she taunted, her voice carrying over the crashing waves. "I'm doing this for a purpose, little demigod. For the giants."

"What giants?" Jason asked, frowning.

I was starting to get a bad feeling about all this. My instincts were screaming at me, but I didn't want to believe it. Kymopoleia wasn't the type to help us. She was too caught up in her own power and her allegiance to Poseidon's enemies.

But the truth came out. She had been helping Polybotis, a giant who served as Poseidon's nemesis. She wanted to weaken us so that Polybotis could kill us.

"Are you crazy?" I yelled, stepping forward. "You're letting a giant—a monster—kill us so you can win some pathetic fight?"

She only smirked in response, her storm intensifying. And then, I saw him—Polybotis, the giant, rising from the depths of the ocean like a nightmare. The sea trembled beneath him, and his massive form blotted out the sky. His huge form towered over us, and I could see the malicious grin on his face. This wasn't just a battle for us; it was a battle for our survival.

Jason tried to talk reason into Kymopoleia. He kept asking her to help us, but she remained unmoved, her eyes filled with indifference. She didn't care about us. She was determined to see us crushed beneath the waves, to see Polybotis win.

I didn't have time to waste. I pulled Riptide out and stepped forward, facing the giant.

"Percy," Jason warned, but it was too late.

Polybotis raised his hand, and suddenly the air was thick with poison. I could feel it—venom, sharp and heavy, swirling around us. It was meant to kill. There was no question about it. If I didn't act fast, I was going to suffocate.

My heart pounded in my chest, and I tapped into my powers. I called on the sea, reaching out to its depths, drawing on its energy. I could feel the waves surge around me, its power flowing through my veins, and with that, the power of Poseidon, of the earth... and the power of Perses.

"Time to show you what I can really do," I muttered under my breath.

I felt the familiar hum of my earthquake power building in my chest, but this time, it was different. This wasn't just about the earth beneath my feet. I combined that power with the energy coursing through me from the sea—and from Perses. I could feel the combined force surge, like a storm building up inside me, ready to be unleashed.

With a roar, I slammed my fist into Polybotis' massive chest. The earth trembled beneath my feet, and the ocean seemed to respond with a violent roar of its own.

In that moment, everything shattered.

The giant's body exploded into countless fragments, his massive form reduced to nothing. Blood and debris filled the air, coloring the sea red. It was like nothing I had ever seen before. The force of my punch, amplified by the power of the sea, the earth, and Perses, had completely obliterated the giant.

The sea calmed for a brief moment, the storm dissipating as the power left me. I stood there, breathing heavily, my hand still raised from the punch. I looked over at Jason, who was staring at me, his eyes wide with disbelief. I could see the respect in his gaze, and something else—awe.

"That was... insane," Jason breathed, his voice barely above a whisper.

But I didn't have time to savor the moment. Kymopoleia was still standing there, unmoved by the destruction. She hadn't budged, even after seeing what I could do.

I walked over to her, my eyes hard. "You should've helped," I said, my voice steady, though a little colder than I meant it to be. "Now, you've lost."

She didn't answer. She simply turned and disappeared into the depths of the ocean, vanishing as quickly as she had appeared.

Jason turned to me, still processing everything that had happened. "Percy," he said slowly, "I don't think I'll ever look at you the same way again."

Polybotis was scattered too thin to ever reform again.

After what felt like an eternity of quests, each one more dangerous than the last, we finally made it to Athens. The city was buzzing with energy, and the tension in the air was palpable. The Giants had come, and they weren't backing down. The Seven, all of us—me, Annabeth, Jason, Leo, Piper, Hazel, and Frank—stood at the ready, prepared for the battle of our lives.

It didn't take long for the first clash to happen. The ground shook beneath our feet as the Giants rose, their monstrous forms shadowing the city. Battle cries rang out as the Olympians appeared, ready to fight. But even with the gods by our side, the battle was far from over. The air was thick with the clash of steel, the power of the gods, and the sheer strength of the Giants.

I fought alongside Jason and Annabeth, my sword flashing as I took on one of the Giants, my powers pushing me to the limit. Jason and I worked like a well-oiled machine, each of us covering the other's weaknesses. We were in sync, as always.

Annabeth, as always, was a force to be reckoned with. Her tactical genius kept us one step ahead, coordinating the fight with precision. We made progress, but it felt like every time we took one down, two more appeared. The battle dragged on, the outcome uncertain. We needed the gods to tip the scales.

And then, just as we were nearing the breaking point, they came. The gods. Zeus, Hera, Apollo, and the rest of the Olympians appeared above us, their divine power lighting up the sky. The giants faltered, their resolve weakening under the sheer force of the gods.

But victory came at a cost.

I felt a sudden, unsettling chill in the air as the blood of the demigods mingled with the earth. The battle was won, yes, but something had changed. Gaea, the primordial Earth goddess, was awakening.

The gods seemed to feel it too. There was an uneasy silence that settled over the battlefield. Then, it began.

Zeus, his thunderbolt crackling in his hand, turned on Hera. "This is your doing, isn't it?" he barked, his voice booming. "Your schemes and tricks. And Apollo—breaking the rules. How many times have I told you, Apollo?"

Hera looked unruffled, as always, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. Apollo, on the other hand, looked sheepish, trying to avoid Zeus's gaze.

As the gods argued among themselves, the tension in the air grew thicker. They were distracted, fighting their own battles—gods against gods—while Gaea was slowly rising from the depths of the earth. We couldn't afford to waste time.

Finally, Zeus turned to us, his expression softening just a little. "You've done well, demigods," he said, his voice low and heavy with authority. "But this fight isn't over. You need to get back to Camp Half-Blood. Gaea must be dealt with. And it's not going to be easy."

The gods began to disperse, their bickering taking a backseat for now. But Zeus, always the leader, stepped forward and helped us. He gestured toward the Argo II, his voice echoing in the wind. "Get to the ship. I'll help you."

We didn't argue. We ran to the Argo II, our hearts pounding with the knowledge that we were about to face Gaea herself.

Zeus approached the ship and, with a forceful slap, sent us hurtling through the air. The ship groaned as the god's power blasted us off the ground, but we held on tight. The wind howled around us as the Argo II shot through the sky, heading straight for Camp Half-Blood. We were flying faster than ever before, the urgency of our mission clear.

I stood at the front of the ship, staring ahead into the distance, my mind racing. Gaea was awake, and she wasn't going to stop until she had destroyed everything we cared about. But we had to stop her. We had to face her, and we had to win.

"Hold on!" I shouted, even though I knew everyone was already bracing themselves. The journey to Camp Half-Blood was going to be a rough one. We had no idea what awaited us when we got there, but we knew this wasn't the end. The real fight, the one against Gaea herself, was just beginning.

As the Argo II raced towards the camp, I could feel the weight of everything we had done, everything we had been through. We had made it this far. But could we really stop Gaea? Could we win this war?

I didn't know. But I knew one thing for sure—we weren't going to stop fighting until we did.

The battlefield was chaos.

Jason led the Romans with the precision of a seasoned general, his orders cutting through the noise like lightning splitting the sky. His cohort followed him with unwavering loyalty, their shields and spears glinting as they clashed with the monstrous forces of Gaea. I led the Greeks, my voice hoarse from shouting commands. Each of us gave everything we had, cutting down the endless waves of earthborn creatures and monsters she had unleashed.

The sheer scale of the battle was overwhelming. Columns of stone erupted from the ground, sentient creatures made of earth and rock charging into our lines. Harpies shrieked from above, and the ground trembled with the footsteps of giants. The air was thick with the sounds of clashing metal, roars, and screams.

And then came the turning point.

Jason, Leo, and I made our way through the battlefield, cutting a path straight toward Gaea herself. She had risen—a massive, towering form of earth, her face carved into a permanent expression of rage and defiance. Her presence sapped the energy from the air, her voice reverberating like an earthquake.

We fought our way closer. Jason unleashed a storm like I'd never seen before—hurricane winds and a barrage of lightning bolts that struck Gaea with enough force to send shockwaves across the battlefield. Leo, perched atop Festus, poured out torrents of fire, flames so hot they turned the earth beneath them into molten rock. I joined them, channeling everything I had into the earth. I sent shockwaves rippling beneath her feet, opening cracks and fissures, trying to destabilize her massive form.

She roared, her voice shaking the heavens, but her eyes locked on me. Out of everyone, it was me she wanted. Her hatred radiated like heat from her massive form.

"You!" she bellowed, her voice shaking me to my core. "You have thwarted me at every turn. It ends here, Son of Poseidon."

Her enormous hand struck the ground, sending a shockwave so powerful it knocked Jason and Leo off their feet. I stumbled but held my ground, gripping Riptide tightly. She advanced, ignoring the fire and lightning raining down on her. For her, it was personal.

I surged forward, pouring every ounce of power I had into my blade. The waters of the surrounding seas answered my call, rising in massive waves that crashed against her. My earthquake power churned the ground beneath her feet, destabilizing her stance. And from somewhere deep within me, Perses's destructive power flared. I channeled it all into Riptide, the blade glowing with energy.

With a yell that ripped from my very soul, I swung the sword, landing a powerful blow against her massive form. The impact sent a shockwave of energy that rippled through the air, cutting through the noise of battle. Gaea screamed, her voice deafening, and for the first time, she stumbled.

She retaliated, opening a massive fissure beneath her—a chasm that seemed to lead straight to Tartarus. The ground split apart, and her massive form began to crumble, her roar of fury echoing across the battlefield.

She fell, dissolving into the earth, her strength pulling back into the chasm as she let out one last earth-shaking cry. But her fall wasn't without consequence. A surge of magic erupted from her, sweeping across the battlefield in a massive wave. Hundreds of demigods fell where they stood, overwhelmed by the sheer force of it.

I didn't have time to process the devastation. Before I could move, the ground beneath me crumbled. The fissure widened, and the chasm loomed beneath my feet. I tried to step back, but the earth gave way, and I felt myself falling.

"Tartarus," I thought grimly. Again.

The last thing I saw before the darkness swallowed me was Annabeth's face—her expression a mix of horror and anguish as she screamed my name.

And then, nothing but darkness.

I am sorry Annabeth, I would always love you, "I swear on River Styx."

Author's Note: So this was going to be a one-shot... and then a two-shot... then a three-shot... but I have decided that this will be a story... and this is just the prologue... so yeah.

Also Updates will be extremely slow because my main target is my HP fic... so expect like, an update a month or something, idk.