The Gamer of the Sea (PJO x DXD)

(Most of the questions Percy asks are just him trying to play as a oblivious kid)

Word of the bathroom incident spread like wildfire. Everywhere I went, campers whispered about "toilet water boy." Honestly, they were probably laughing at Annabeth too—she was still dripping wet, while I walked away bone dry.

She led me through the rest of camp in stony silence: the forge where kids hammered out weapons, the arts-and-crafts shed where satyrs worked on a goat statue, even the climbing wall that tried to kill you with lava and falling boulders.

By the time we circled back to the canoe lake, she finally snapped. "One thing I don't get—why aren't you soaked too?"

I forced a shrug, trying to look clueless. Truth was, she wasn't wrong. The water hadn't touched me. It bent around me like I wasn't even there, like it was answering to me alone. I do with that I should've been less suspicious. I just really want to blast the Ares kids.

"You need to talk to the Oracle," Annabeth said.

"You have an Oracle? Which one?" I said slightly surprised.

"The Oracle of Delphi." So it's probably that thing in the attic but Hecate mentioned that after Apollo took Delphi, it required a human host.

I stared into the lake. Then I noticed two teenage girls sitting cross-legged at the base of the pier, about twenty feet below. They wore blue jeans and shimmering green T-shirts, their brown hair floating around their shoulders as minnows darted in and out. They smiled and waved like I was some long-lost friend.

I waved back.

"Don't encourage them," Annabeth warned. "Naiads are terrible flirts."

I groaned. "I just want to go home. I find this place… extremely weird."

Annabeth tilted her head, studying me. "So anyway … what are you good at, Percy? Did your mother ever give you any hints about your father?"

I shrugged. "Uh… I guess I'm okay at sports. Soccer, basketball… stuff like that. And, um, I can ride a bike pretty well."

Her eyebrows lifted. "Really? Just… normal stuff?"

"Yeah," I said quickly. "Oh, and I really like pizza."

Annabeth frowned. "Pizza?"

"Yeah," I said, grinning. "So I'm probably the son of the God of New York. Right?"

She blinked at me, clearly trying not to giggle at my joke,. "All right… sports, bikes, pizza. That narrows it down a lot, definitely."

"Exactly," I said. "A real deadly combination."

"So anyway enough about me, who are your parents?" I asked, trying to figure her out.

"I'm from Cabin Six," Annabeth said like it was obvious.

"English please, I've been here less than a day. I don't even know what each the cabins mean yet," I said, well, I can sense the design of the cabin , but I am not gonna mention that

Annabeth raised an eyebrow. "My mother is Athena—the goddess of wisdom and battle."

"Whoa," I said, I mean, her eyes were dead giveaway but I should still act shocked. "So… brains and battle skills run in the family, huh? Lucky you."

Annabeth frowned, leaning closer. "Percy… listen. You need to be careful. Don't do anything dangerous or… stupid just to get recognition. Some kids think if their parents notices them, they climb them. It doesn't always work like that. You have to be smart about this."

I frowned, looking around the camp. "So… am I stuck here for the rest of my life?"

Annabeth blinked, then shook her head. "Not exactly. There are part-time campers—kids who come for training during the summer or when a quest is expected. But there are also year-round campers, kids who… well, they don't really have a home to go back to."

I swallowed, trying to sound sad. "Because my mom… she's gone, right?"

She gave me a sympathetic look. "Yeah. That probably means you'll be a year-round camper. But it's not as bad as it sounds. You'll learn a lot, meet people, survive… and it's safer than being out there on your own."

I tilted my head. "What about you? Are you part-time or year-round?"

Annabeth nodded. From under the collar of her T-shirt she pulled a leather necklace with five clay beads of different colors. It was just like Luke's, except Annabeth's also had a big gold ring strung on it, like a college ring.

"I've been here since I was seven," she said. "Every August, on the last day of summer session, you get a bead for surviving another year. I've been here longer than most of the counselors, and they're all in college."

I raised an eyebrow. "Why did you come so young?"

She twisted the ring on her necklace. "None of your business."

I held up my hands. "Sorry."

I couldn't help thinking, though. Either she had some kind of traumatic experience, or she didn't like her mortal family. Either way, it was clear she wasn't going to talk about it.

I tilted my head. "So… do year-round campers ever leave?"

Annabeth considered me for a moment. "Barely. We mostly stay on camp grounds, train, study… and wait for quests."

"Quests?" I asked, leaning in.

She smiled faintly. "They're missions. Sometimes to retrieve something, sometimes to fight monsters, sometimes to deliver a message. It's how we prove ourselves… and sometimes it's the only way to gain your divine parents recognition. You'll go on them at least once in your life, if you make it through training and are ready. But don't do anything reckless just to get noticed."

"Although some of the year-round campers get special assignments. Every Winter Solstice, a few of us are sent to Olympus as a field trip and meet with the gods."

asked, "Where exactly is Olympus?"

Annabeth leaned back against the railing, her eyes distant, thoughtful. "It doesn't have a fixed location the way you'd think. Olympus… it follows the heart of Western Civilization. Over the centuries, it has shifted—ancient Greece, Rome, Paris, London, New York. Usually wherever humanity's greatest centers of influence and power emerge."

I frowned. "So it's like a traveling penthouse for gods?"

She smirked, just a little. "Something like that. But it's not about luxury. It's about proximity to mortals and mortal ideas. The gods thrive on civilization, its progress, its conflicts… that's how they stay relevant, and that's how quests start."

"I've got to get a quest," Annabeth muttered to herself. "I'm not too young. If they would just tell me the problem…"

I caught the faraway look in her eyes, like she was already halfway out the door and into some monster-infested labyrinth. My stomach, very much not interested in monster quests, growled loud enough to break the moment. The smell of barbecue smoke drifted from somewhere near the pavilion, and suddenly I was way more interested in steak than in Annabeth's heroic daydreams.

She must've noticed, because her mouth twitched like she was holding back a laugh. "Go on," she said. "I'll catch you later."

I nodded, but as I walked off the pier, I glanced back. She was still there, tracing her finger across the wooden rail like she was sketching a battle plan only she could see.

I couldn't tell if I should be impressed… or worried.

On my way back to the Hermes cabin, I slowed when I noticed a little girl sitting cross-legged near the central hearth. She couldn't have been more than six, with dark hair that shimmered red in the glow of the flames. No one else seemed to be paying her any attention, but she sat perfectly still, tending the fire with this quiet, practiced care—like the whole camp depended on her keeping it alive. Suddenly, I got a system notification.

[A limited time event 'The Little Flame All Alone'

has begun]

[Warning: Even if this event is not completed within the time limit, it will never happen again]

————————

[Event: A Girl's Lonely Flame]

Type: Limited Event

Time Limit: The rest of the day

Description:

A young girl sits alone, guarding a small fire. Her family, once whole, was torn apart by quarrels and strife, leaving her flame uncared and forgotten. Though she remains quiet, her warmth is fragile, her light unacknowledged. To walk away is to let her flame fade, but to stay is to honor something more enduring than conflict.

Requirements:

Do Not use [Observe] on the girl.

Approach the girl by the fire.

Offer her company without scorn or impatience.

Share something of yourself (a memory, a story, or a token of meaning).

Choose to tend the flame with her, even if only for a moment.

Failure Condition:

1.Leaving the girl without acknowledging her flame.

2.Treating the flame as unimportant.

Note: This is a one-time event. Missing it will permanently forfeit all rewards tied to this quest.

————————————————-

I blinked at the glowing blue text, the words hanging in my vision like they'd been burned into the air.

The little girl still sat there, poking at the embers with a stick. She looked way too young to be on her own, her face half-lit by the dancing glow.

A event? Really? She didn't look like a monster, or a trap, or anything dangerous. Just… sad.

I sighed and rubbed the back of my neck. "Guess I don't have a choice, huh?" I muttered, but even as I said it, I knew that wasn't true. I could've walked away. Nothing would've stopped me.

But I wasn't about to.

Because whatever the system said, there was no way I was leaving a little kid sitting alone in the dark.

So I stepped closer, slowly, like approaching a skittish animal. The warmth of the fire brushed against me, soft and steady. "Hey," I said gently, crouching down so I wasn't towering over her. "That's a nice fire you've got there. Mind if I sit with you for a bit?"

The girl didn't say much at first. She just kept poking the fire with her little stick, watching the sparks float up into the night.

I the event wasn't about fighting or solving some puzzle. It was just… being there. So I sat with her. I added a few dry twigs to keep the flames going, fed it carefully so it didn't die. The silence stretched, but it didn't feel bad.

Finally, I cleared my throat. "You know," I said, "fires like this always remind me of my mom."

The girl tilted her head, curious, but didn't speak.

"She used to light a blue candle on the table every night. Said it made the place feel homier. Even when everything else in our apartment was falling apart, that candle kept the dark away. Kept me safe." I hesitated, my chest tightening. "She was… the only good thing in that place."

The girl's big eyes flicked up at me. Quiet, waiting.

I swallowed. "My stepdad, Gabe… he wasn't just a jerk. He was cruel. Treated her like trash, treated me worse. Drank too much, blamed us for everything wrong in his life. There were nights I'd lie awake just wishing he'd disappear." My fists clenched in the dirt. "When I finally got the chance, I… I didn't even hesitate. After everything that has happened, after he hurt us for years, I killed him."

The fire crackled louder, the flames licking higher, almost like they were listening.

"I don't regret it," I said, staring into the fire. "Not for a second. People like him don't deserve to snuff out good things. And my mom—she was good. She deserved better."

The fire flared—not hungry, not angry—just warm, like an understanding breath. The girl's expression softened. For a second she looked older than the camp, then she blinked and was just a kid again.

For the first time, the girl's lips curved, the smallest of smiles. Her eyes reflected the firelight, soft and ancient in a way I couldn't place.

A beat passed. "Can I… tend the fire?" I asked. "Only if it's okay with you."

Another tiny nod.

I reached for a few dry twigs, set them just so, and cupped my hands to shield the flame from the breeze. I didn't push hard—just offered it a little warmth, a little air, a little steadiness.

The flame answered.

It whooshed taller, clean and bright, not wild—just stronger, steadier, like it finally felt safe. The girl's eyes widened. She glanced at my hands, then at the fire, surprise flickering across her face before she schooled it away.

[Event Complete: A Girl's Lonely Flame]

[Reward Granted]

[Relationship with ??? has deepened]

I started to stand, brushing ash off my hands, but before I could straighten, the little girl suddenly wrapped her arms around me.

It wasn't a long hug, or even a strong one. She was small, fragile even, but there was warmth in her touch that sank straight into my bones, gentler and steadier than any flame I'd ever felt.

For a second, I didn't know what to do. I froze, awkwardly half-crouched, until I finally let myself return the hug.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice trembling but soft. "You're the first person… in all of Camp's history, today and every day before it… who's ever stopped to talk to me."

My chest tightened. "What do you mean? Who are yo—"

[Observe]

[Hestia - Keeper of the Eternal Hearth]

She just smiled, small and bittersweet, as if she knew something I didn't, and turned back to the flame. "That's enough. You've already given me more than most ever could."

"But Promise me something," she suddenly said quietly.

"Uh… sure?" I said, a little caught off guard.

"Promise me you'll stop pretending." Her voice didn't waver, but there was weight behind it, like each word carried more than a child should ever have to bear. "If you keep wearing masks… if you keep hiding from who you are… you'll never have any true companionship. No friends. No family. Not really. You don't need to explain, you'll never have to, but please take it off."

The words struck me harder than I expected. For a moment, I thought about my mom, about Grover, about everything I'd lost and how much I wanted to push it all away. But the thought of being completely alone—forever—hit me in the gut.

I nodded slowly. "I promise."

Her expression softened, and she smiled, small but real.

The fire in the hearth flared brighter, as if sealing the vow itself.

Her arms loosened from the hug, but she didn't let go completely. The girl tilted her head back to look at me, her eyes reflecting the fire's glow like twin embers.

"Thank you, Perseus Jackson," she whispered, and for the first time her voice sounded older than she looked—ancient, weary, but warm. "No one has ever stopped to see me… not really. But you did. You didn't turn away."

My throat tightened. I didn't know what to say.

She gave me the faintest smile, fragile as glass. "It's only right that I give you something in return. A part of me—so that you'll never have to carry that kind of loneliness again."

The fire crackled, brighter and steadier, as though the flame itself leaned closer to listen.

She gave me the faintest smile, fragile as glass. Then she reached into the fire itself. Her small hand closed around the flames without burning, and when she pulled back, a tiny ember—steady and impossibly bright—rested in her palm.

Her voice carried the weight of something far older than her appearance:

"This is the Everflame Fragment. When the Elder Cyclopes forged my torch, the Everflame, there were remnants—sparks that even they could not quench. This is the only one that didn't vanish when I put it in my Hearth."

She reached out and pressed the ember into my hand. It didn't sear, but it thrummed with heat and life, sinking into me as though my very essence recognized it.

[Item Acquired: Everflame Fragment]

[Type: Crafting Material]

[A residue of Hestia's divine fire, created during the forging of the Everflame Torch by the Elder Cyclopes. Acts as a magical catalyst that harmonizes anything fire/heat related]

The girl's eyes softened, and as she finally released me, I could've sworn the fire burned steadier, brighter, as though it had chosen me too.

"You helped the flame when no one else would even acknowledge it. For that, I grant you my blessing. You are no longer just a guest at the hearth, Perseus Jackson… you are its Guardian."

Flames swirled around me, sinking into my skin without burning, filling me with warmth so steady and eternal it almost hurt.

[Congratulations! You have earned the Title: Guardian of the Hearth]

[Type: Title – Divine (Exclusive)]

[Patron Deity: Hestia, Goddess of the Hearth]

[Guardian of the Hearth – Title Effects:]

[All Abilities of Child of Hestia: Pyrokinesis, Summon Food, Familial Aura, and Bond Sensing.]

[Guardian Conditional Trigger: Activates while actively protecting someone (does not trigger if the ally being protected is stronger than Percy or their attacker)and only works if within 10 meters of said being.]

[Effects while active:]

Infinite Mana & Stamina(Kinda Broken, don't worry, this isn't gonna pop mid fight, and he can't just spam unless he wants to level the city)

+500% Damage to Pyrokinesis and Healing Abilities

No Cooldown on fire/healing spells

+300% Charisma and Vitality

[Passives:]

Leadership Buff:

+50% to all stats for allies under Percy's leadership

Family Bond:

+1 Relationship Level with anyone who has a family

Hestia looked up at me, her small hands resting lightly on the rim of the flame. Her eyes, warm and steady like the hearth itself, met mine.

"Percy… promise me something," she said softly. "Be more honest with yourself—and with others. Pretending, holding back… it'll only make your path lonelier. Don't let it define you."

I nodded, words caught somewhere between awe and gratitude.

"And now," she continued, a small smile tugging at her lips, "get some sleep. Even heroes need rest."

The glow of the Everflame fragment pulsed gently in my hand as I bowed my head, feeling a rare peace settle over me.