Fate/Divine

A/N Start:

This story is... I really don't know. The Nasuverse is already incredibly confusing and now I just had to try to make things even more complicated by incorporating the Percy Jackson Universe in it. Why am I doing this to myself? Because I'm currently obsessed with the fate universe, love Percy Jackson, put those two in bed together and BOOM! FGO/Percy Jackson Crossover was born!

First things first, I know the age of gods ended in the nasuverse. So how are they still around in this one? I'll do my best to incorporate my best explanation possible of how into the story. As I'm still in the outline stage mostly, I'm not sure when the explanation will occur

Second, Percy will be out of character (with hints of his original personality, due to plot)

Third, there will be romance and there will be harem (Sorry to all the harem haters but it's a fate grand order crossover...what else can I say...waifus)

Fourth, there may be lemons later on so this story may change to M, we will see

Fifth, I'm open for harem member suggestions and worthwhile critiques. If you just want to send hate comments, then stop reading and get on with your life

Sixth, I'm still not totally sure where I'm even heading with this story. Just going with the flow and wherever my fingers take me

Seventh, how do summons for divine spirits that are still alive such as Heracles work? Just think of the summoned heroic spirit as their heroic deeds/tales while their divine body is separate.

Eighth, this is my first story so don't expect perfect writing and an out of this world plot. I'll do my best to make the plot engaging and not a copy paste of the fgo plot. My grammar is pretty good I think.

Ninth, constructive criticism only

Cover was made using AI by me (Didn't spend much time on it)

None of these characters belong to me!

On to the prologue!

A/N End

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Percy Jackson stood atop Half-Blood Hill, his sea-green eyes scanning the horizon. The warm summer breeze carried the scent of strawberries from the nearby fields, a comforting reminder of home. It was hard to believe that just a year ago, he and his friends had faced down Gaea herself, preventing the end of the world as they knew it.

The victory had come at a great cost. Leo Valdez, one of their own, had sacrificed himself to defeat the earth mother. Or so they thought. Leo's miraculous return on Festus the dragon had been a beacon of hope, a sign that perhaps happy endings were possible even for demigods.

Percy's gaze fell on the bustling camp below. Demigods from both the Greek and Roman pantheons moved about, their orange and purple shirts mingling in a visual representation of their newfound unity. The Athena Parthenos stood tall and proud, a symbol of the peace they had fought so hard to achieve.

A familiar voice pulled him from his reverie. "Thinking deep thoughts, Seaweed Brain?"

Annabeth Chase, daughter of Athena and the love of Percy's life, climbed the hill to join him. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, and her gray eyes sparkled with intelligence and warmth.

Percy couldn't help but smile. "Just appreciating the view. It's nice to have a moment of peace, you know?"

Annabeth nodded, intertwining her fingers with his. "I know what you mean. After everything we've been through, it almost feels too good to be true."

Little did they know how prophetic those words would prove to be.

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The first signs of trouble came in the spring of 2015. Reports began trickling in from satyrs and other magical creatures of strange disturbances across the globe. Ancient sites of power were being targeted, and demigods from lesser-known pantheons were disappearing without a trace.

At first, the incidents seemed isolated, random. But as the frequency of attacks increased, a pattern began to emerge. Whatever was behind this was methodical, powerful, and had an intimate knowledge of the mythological world.

"We need to warn the other camps," Annabeth said, her mind already racing with strategies. "If these unknown entities are targeting all pantheons, we need to present a united front."

Chiron nodded gravely. "Indeed. I fear this may be a threat greater than any we have faced before. We must be prepared for the worst."

As the meeting adjourned, Percy couldn't shake the feeling that their hard-won peace was about to be shattered. He looked at Annabeth, seeing his own concern mirrored in her eyes. Whatever was coming, they would face it together. They had to.

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The attacks, when they came, were swift and devastating. Camp Jupiter fell first, its legion caught off guard by the sheer power and ferocity of the dark forces. The unknown entities materialized within the camp's borders, bypassing centuries-old magical defenses as if they were nothing more than tissue paper.

Percy and Annabeth arrived with reinforcements from Camp Half-Blood, only to find New Rome in ruins. The once-proud city was now a smoldering crater, its temples and forums reduced to rubble. The air was thick with ash and the acrid smell of burnt ozone – the aftermath of godly and demigod powers clashing against an overwhelming force.

As they searched for survivors, Percy's heart sank. Bodies of demigods, both Greek and Roman, littered the ground. He recognized too many faces – friends he had fought alongside, laughed with, shared meals with. Now they lay still, their eyes staring blankly at a sky that had betrayed them.

It was here that they lost Frank Zhang and Hazel Levesque. Frank, using the last of his life force, shapeshifted into a dragon to hold off an overwhelming force, buying time for others to escape. Hazel, devastated by Frank's loss, pushed her powers to the limit, managing to collapse an entire section of the enemy forces into the earth, but the effort proved too much for her.

The survivors retreated, carrying the weight of their losses and the knowledge that this was only the beginning.

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The next few months were a blur of constant battles, hasty evacuations, and desperate attempts to rally the remaining demigods. Camp Half-Blood became a fortress, its magical borders reinforced with every protection they could muster.

But it wasn't enough. Nothing was enough against the relentless onslaught of the unknown forces.

To make matters worse, the gods of various pantheons had cut off access to their divine realms, leaving the demigods to fend for themselves. Whether out of fear, strategy, or some other unfathomable reason, the abandonment left a bitter taste in the mouths of those left behind to face the threat alone.

The day Camp Half-Blood fell would be forever seared into Percy's memory. The sky turned an unnatural shade of crimson as the dark entities materialized around the camp's perimeter. The air crackled with malevolent energy, and the very earth seemed to recoil from their presence.

Percy stood at the forefront of the camp's defenders, Riptide gleaming in his hand. Beside him, Annabeth coordinated the defensive lines, her voice steady despite the fear evident in her eyes. Around them, their fellow demigods prepared for what they knew might be their final stand.

The battle that followed was chaos incarnate. Percy's world narrowed to a series of desperate moments – parrying a blow here, summoning a wave there, always moving, always fighting. He saw friends fall around him, heard screams of pain and defiance mingling with the otherworldly howls of their enemies.

It was during this battle that they lost Jason Grace. He died protecting a group of younger demigods, struck down by a powerful blast of dark energy while covering their retreat. Piper McLean lasted longer, her charmspeak proving invaluable in confusing and redirecting enemy forces. But eventually, even her voice failed her in a final stand against the never ending onslaught.

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As the months of fighting wore on, the ranks of demigods continued to thin. Leo Valdez, who had once cheated death, fell alongside Calypso while defending a group of young demigods from the Hephaestus cabin. His final act was to create a massive firestorm, buying time for the others to escape. Calypso, mortal and vulnerable without her island's protection, died in Leo's arms, their hands intertwined as the flames and tides of monstrosities consumed them both.

Nico di Angelo, the son of Hades, lasted longer than most. His ability to move through shadows and command the dead made him a formidable opponent against the dark forces. But even the Ghost King couldn't evade death forever. In a desperate attempt to evacuate the last stronghold of demigods on the West Coast to Camp Half-Blood, Nico overextended his powers. He successfully shadow-traveled dozens of survivors to safety, but the effort drained his already taxed life force. He faded away into the shadows he had so often used.

Through it all, Percy kept Annabeth in his peripheral vision. They had been through so much together, from the depths of Tartarus to the heights of Olympus. As long as they were side by side, Percy believed they could overcome anything.

It was that belief that made what happened next all the more devastating.

They had been pushed back to the Big House, the last line of defense. Percy was exhausted, his powers nearly spent, but he refused to give up. He turned to Annabeth, ready to coordinate their next move, only to see her eyes widen in horror.

"Percy, look out!"

Time seemed to slow as Annabeth shoved him aside, taking the full brunt of an attack. The blast sent her flying, her body crumpling as it hit the ground.

"No!" Percy's anguished cry tore from his throat as he rushed to her side. Cradling her in his arms, he desperately searched for signs of life.

Annabeth's gray eyes fluttered open, unfocused and filled with pain. "Percy," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sounds of battle. "I'm sorry... I love you."

"No, no, no," Percy choked out, tears streaming down his face. "Stay with me, Wise Girl. We're going to get through this, just like we always do."

But even as he spoke, he could feel her slipping away. With her final breath, Annabeth Chase, daughter of Athena and hero of Olympus, died in the arms of the boy she had loved since they were twelve years old.

Something broke inside Percy at that moment. The grief and rage that flooded through him were unlike anything he had ever experienced. The ground began to tremble, and the nearby creek erupted into a swirling maelstrom.

Percy stood, his eyes glowing with an otherworldly light. The power of the sea, his birthright as the son of Poseidon, surged through him unchecked. With a primal roar, he unleashed his fury upon the dark forces.

The remaining demigods watched in awe and terror as Percy Jackson, consumed by grief and power, single-handedly drove back the enemy forces. Hurricanes formed at his command, the earth split open to swallow their enemies, and the very air seemed to bow to his will.

But even this display of raw power wasn't enough to save Camp Half-Blood. As the last of the dark entities retreated, Percy stood alone amidst the ruins of the only home he had ever known. The camp that had stood for millennia was no more, its cabins reduced to splinters, its fields scorched and barren.

And Percy Jackson, once a hero full of hope and loyalty, was forever changed.

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The years that followed were dark ones for the world of demigods. With both major camps destroyed, the survivors scattered, seeking refuge wherever they could find it. Percy, driven by grief and a burning desire for vengeance, became a nomadic force of nature.

He traveled the world, hunting down the unknown entities wherever they appeared. Along the way, he encountered other pantheons – Egyptian magicians fighting a losing battle in Cairo, Norse einherjar making their last stand in Boston, and countless others. But no matter how hard they fought, the tide of dark forces seemed endless.

Percy's power continued to grow, fueled by his rage and despair. He could raise tsunamis with a thought, create earthquakes with a stomp of his foot. But with each display of power, he felt himself slipping further away from the person he used to be.

There were moments, in the quiet times between battles, when Percy would look at his reflection and barely recognize himself. His eyes, once full of mirth and mischief, now held a haunted, almost feral look. His hair had grown long and unkempt, and a jagged scar ran down the side of his face – a memento from a particularly vicious battle.

He thought often of his friends, of the family he had lost. Of Annabeth. In his darkest moments, he wondered if it wouldn't be easier to just give up, to let the dark forces finally claim him. But then he would remember Annabeth's final words, her sacrifice, and his resolve would harden once more.

As long as he drew breath, he would fight. For Annabeth. For all of them.

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It was in the spring of 2021, six years after the first attack, that Percy Jackson faced his final battle. He had tracked a group of the unknown entities to the ancient site of Delphi in Greece, once home to the Oracle of Apollo.

The irony wasn't lost on Percy as he surveyed the ruined temple. How many prophecies had been uttered here, shaping the destinies of heroes and gods alike? And now, it would be the site of one last stand.

As the dark forces materialized around him, Percy felt a strange sense of calm settle over him. He was tired, so very tired. But he was also ready.

The battle that ensued was one for the ages. Percy fought with everything he had, unleashing the full extent of his powers. The sacred spring of Castalia rose up at his command, becoming a swirling vortex that engulfed the dark entities whole. The earth shook and cracked, swallowing pillars of malevolent energy.

For a moment, it seemed as though Percy might actually win. But then, as he prepared to strike down the last of his foes, he felt a searing pain in his side. Looking down, he saw a spectral blade protruding from his chest.

As his lifeblood seeped into the ancient stones of Delphi, Percy Jackson, son of Poseidon and last of the great heroes, allowed himself a small, bitter smile. He had fought to the very end, just as Annabeth would have wanted. But in the end, it hadn't been enough.

With his final breath, Percy whispered her name. And then, at last, he was gone.

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The world moved on, as it always does. The unknown forces, having accomplished their goal of eliminating the demigod threat, turned their attention to other matters. The age of heroes, of demigods walking among mortals, came to an end.

With no survivors to tell their tale, the story of Percy Jackson and his friends faded into obscurity. The mortal world, oblivious to the battles that had raged in their midst, continued on, unaware of an entire population's obliteration by malevolent forces.

But the world has a long memory, and some stories refuse to stay buried. Decades later, when the dark entities' grand plan reached culmination and humanity found itself in need of heroes once more, they would draw upon the strength of those same demigod heroes who had been hidden from mortal eyes. For in the end, that is the true power of heroes – not just in their deeds, but in the ripples they leave behind, shaping the world in ways beyond imagining.