The Gamer of the Sea (PJO x DXD)

"So let me get this straight," I said, keeping my voice even. "You want me to march into the Underworld and confront the Lord of the Dead himself."

"Check," Chiron said.

"Retrieve the master bolt—probably the most damaging weapon in the greek world."

"Correct."

"And deliver it back to Olympus before the summer solstice." I glanced at the calendar on the wall. "Ten days."

"That's about right," Chiron admitted.

I leaned back, tapping the table with my finger. "Sounds like someone wants me dead fast. Either Hades gets rid of me in his own realm, or the gods do when I fail the deadline."

Grover made a choking sound and swallowed half of the ace of hearts. "Did I mention Maine is beautiful this time of year?"

I shot him a look. "You don't have to come. This isn't your fight."

Grover shifted uncomfortably, brushing card scraps off his lap. "That's not the point. You saved my life, Percy. If you're really going, I'm with you. Satyrs… underground… yeah, it's bad. But I won't let you down."

Relief loosened the knot in my chest. Grover wasn't just my friend—he was the only one who hadn't walked out when things got bad. I trusted him. "Then it's settled. All the way, G-man."

I turned back to Chiron. "The Oracle said west. I'm guessing the entrance moves with the ages, just like Olympus does. Which means…" I let the thought hang, watching his reaction.

Chiron's eyes gleamed. "Yes. Right now, the passage to the Underworld is here in America."

"Where?"

Chiron looked surprised. "I thought that would be obvious enough. The entrance to the Underworld is in Los Angeles."

"Oh," I said. "Naturally. So… we get on a plane?"

"No!" Grover shrieked, nearly choking on his tin can. "Percy, are you insane?"

I frowned. "What? It's faster."

Chiron shook his head gravely. "Think. You are the son of the Sea God. Your father's bitterest rival is Zeus, Lord of the Sky. Your mother knew better than to trust you in an airplane. You would be in Zeus's domain. You would never come down alive.

"

I stared at him for a long moment, then shrugged. "If Zeus really wants his master bolt back, he'll let me fly. If not…" My gaze flicked toward the storm-darkened sky. "Then I guess he's not that desperate for peace."

As if on cue, thunder cracked so violently the windows rattled. Lightning forked across the meadow, rain hammering down in sheets.

I tilted my head back, refusing to flinch. "Suit yourself," I muttered.

Chiron's expression tightened, but he didn't argue further. "Then overland it must be. Two companions may accompany you. Grover is one. The other has already volunteered—if you'll accept her help."

"Gee," I said, feigning surprise. "Who else would be stupid enough to volunteer for a quest like this?"

The light shimmered behind Chiron.

Annabeth stepped forward, pulling her Yankees cap from her head and tucking it into her back pocket. "I've been waiting a long time for a quest, seaweed brain," she said. "Athena isn't exactly Poseidon's fan club, but if you're going to save the world, I'm the best one to make sure you don't screw it up."

Her gray eyes locked with mine—confident, sharp. Maybe too sharp.

I hesitated. The pit in my stomach tightened. On instinct, my vision blurred, the world bending as threads of possibility tugged at the corners of my mind.

[Thread of Destinies Activated]

[Target: Annabeth]

Three futures unfolded before me—

Annabeth stood at my side, shielding me from an enemy's blade. She screamed as it pierced her instead, blood staining her armor. Her last look wasn't fear, but defiance.

Another vision—her silhouette, older, her face hidden under a hood. She stood across from me, blade raised. Betrayal twisted her features as her voice echoed: "It was always going to end like this."

And finally—Annabeth standing on a marble floor beneath the gleaming pillars of Olympus. She wasn't fighting me or anyone else. She was at a crossroads, choosing between two paths. Her hand trembled as she reached forward, towards her knife.

The visions shattered.

I blinked hard, breath uneven. She was still there, frowning at me. Waiting.

[Observe]

[Annabeth Chase]Level: 89

Title: Daughter of Wisdom

EXP: 0 / 870,000

HP: 62,400 / 62,400

SP: 62,400 / 62,400

MP: 122,400 / 122,400

StatsSTR: 2,890

AGI: 3,480

VIT: 3,120

INT: 6,120

CHA: 3,240

LUC: 121

SkillsWisdom of the Owl: A

Divine inheritance of Athena's bloodline. Greatly enhances reasoning, memory, and problem-solving capacity. Allows intuitive understanding of puzzles, traps, and structures. Can instantly recall and apply learned information.

Instinct: C

A sharpened sixth sense that warns of danger. While not at the level of battle precognition, it provides a baseline of tactical intuition, enabling her to react effectively in unexpected scenarios.

Divinity: C

Marks her as a scion of Athena. While not overwhelming, it grants minor divine recognition and resistance to powers or curses tied to divinity.

Mind's Eye(False): C-

Unlike the standard combat version, this form manifests as tactical foresight. Grants the ability to perceive possible outcomes in advance, analyzing weak points in plans, defenses, and environments.

Mystic Eyes of Comprehension(Locked): B+

A personal derivative ability unique to Annabeth. When focusing, she could "see" the structural or logical truth of mechanisms—puzzles, magical traps, or ancient architecture. Similar to "Structural Grasp" magecraft, but instinctual rather than learned.

Backstory:

Born the daughter of Frederick Chase and the goddess Athena, Annabeth was destined from childhood to live between two worlds. Her mortal father feared her, while monsters hounded her for her divine bloodline. Gifted with the Wisdom of the Owl, she exhibited genius from the moment she could walk, speaking in full sentences as a toddler and solving puzzles well beyond her age.

By seven, she fled her home, living as a runaway until she was found by Luke Castellan and Thalia Grace. Together they braved monsters and gods until Annabeth reached Camp Half-Blood, the sanctuary of demigods. There she honed her skills, excelling not in brute force but in intellect, strategy, and problem-solving.

———————————————

"If you do say so yourself," I muttered, trying to sound casual. "I suppose you have a plan, wise girl?"

Her cheeks colored, but she smirked. "Do you want my help or not?"

The truth was—I wasn't sure. Not after what I'd just seen. But I needed every edge I could get. And she had good potential.

"A trio," I said finally. "That'll work."

"Excellent," Chiron said, relief in his voice. "This afternoon, we can take you as far as the bus terminal in Manhattan. After that, you are on your own."

Lightning flashed again. The rain pounded harder, thunder echoing across the valley that was never supposed to have violent weather.

"No time to waste," Chiron said. "I think you should all get packing."

———————————

It didn't take me long to pack. No reason to carry bags when I had [Inventory]. The Minotaur horn, spare clothes, toothbrush — all shifted into the system with a thought. Easier than dragging trophies or worrying about weight.

The camp store gave me a hundred bucks in mortal cash and twenty golden drachmas. Heavy coins, big as cookies, stamped with gods on one side and the Empire State Building on the other. Normal pockets would've bulged; mine didn't. Straight into [Inventory]. Safer that way.

Chiron pressed supplies into our hands: nectar canteen, bag of ambrosia squares. "Emergency use only," he warned. He didn't need to repeat himself. Nectar healed, ambrosia saved. But too much, and your body turned furnace-hot until you burned out from the inside. Risky.

Annabeth packed smarter than most. Yankees cap — Athena's gift, twelfth birthday. Knife hidden in her sleeve. Book in Ancient Greek on classical architecture. That was her idea of light reading. She looked like she was carrying an arsenal. I looked like I had nothing. Both true, in a way.

Grover wore his fake feet and jeans, trying to pass as human. The green rasta cap helped hide his horns, especially when rain flattened his hair. His orange backpack clanked faintly — scrap metal and apples, his version of road rations. A set of reed pipes rested in his pocket, carved by his dad. He only knew two songs: one Mozart piece, and something called So Yesterday. Both sounded worse than they had any right to on reed pipes.

We waved goodbye to the other campers. Strawberry fields. The ocean. The Big House. Last glance before the hill pulled us upward, past the lone pine that had once been Thalia, Zeus's daughter.

Chiron waited in his wheelchair. Beside him stood the surfer-looking guy I'd glimpsed while recovering. Argus — head of camp security. Grover swore he had eyes everywhere. Today, in a chauffeur's uniform, I only counted the extras on his hands, neck, and face. Still creepy.

"This is Argus," Chiron said. "He'll drive you into the city and—well—keep an eye on things."

Footsteps came from behind. Luke jogged up, basketball shoes in hand, face flushed.

"Hey!" he panted. "Glad I caught you."

"These are the shoes I wore during my quest, I don't use them anymore because I don't see a reason too" He then dropped the shies and walked off.

I pick up the winged sneakers. The moment my fingers brushed the leather, unease crawled up my spine.

[Observe]

[Winged Sneakers (Cursed)]

Rank: Rare

Type: Footwear

Effect:

Flight: Grants temporary flight when activated with the command "Maia."

Curse Effect: Attempts to pull the wearer into Tartarus if nearby.

—————————-

My grip tightened. A curse. Figures Luke wouldn't hand over a gift without strings.

I glanced at Chiron. "I won't be able to use these, will I?"

He shook his head, sorrow in his expression. "Luke meant well, Percy. But taking to the air… would not be wise for you."

I nodded. "Yeah. I figured."

I didn't say what I'd really seen. No reason to panic Grover or Annabeth before the quest even started. I turned to Grover instead. "You want them?"

His eyes went wide. "Me?"

"You've earned it," I said smoothly. "And they'll be more useful for you than me. You can scout ahead, travel faster, maybe even escape trouble if it gets bad. Just…" I paused, choosing my words carefully. "Be careful. Don't let them carry you somewhere you don't want to go." I'll ask for them before the underworld.

Grover frowned at that but nodded eagerly. "Yeah, of course!"

He laced them on.

"Maia!"

The sneakers shot him a few feet up before dragging him sideways, his backpack thudding along the grass. Grover spun down the hill like a malfunctioning drone.

Chiron cupped his hands and shouted, "Practice! You just need practice!"

I forced myself to smile, but the [Curse] warning still burned in the back of my mind. Luke had planned or someone is trying to frame him. I just didn't know who—yet.

I decided to look at my sword again, as I walked down the hill.

[Observe]

[Riptide] (Anaklusmos)

Rank: Legendary

Type: Weapon – Celestial Bronze Xiphos Sword

Durability: Indestructible

Description:

Forged in the fires of Mount Etna and cooled in the River Lethe, Riptide carries the authority of the sea itself. After a fateful sacrifice by its first wielder, the sword gained a profound affinity with the ocean, resonating with children of the sea and ocean-affiliated spirits. The celestial bronze sword passes harmlessly through mortals while striking monsters, spirits, and divine constructs with devastating precision.

Abilities:

Shapeshift (Pen Form): Transforms instantly into a xiphos-style blade. Requires intent.

Return to Owner: Reappears in the owner's pocket or hand within seconds if lost.

Monster Slayer: +25% damage to monsters.

Mortal Edge: Passes through 'normal' mortals without harm.

Sea's Blessing: +100% damage when wielded by children of the sea.

Special Trait – Hero's Memory: Acts in defense of allies or innocents trigger increase in damage and speed, as though the blade remembers its heroic lineage.

————————————

When I got to the bottom of the hill, I looked back.

Under the pine tree that used to be Thalia, daughter of Zeus—

[Observe]

[Thalia Grace]

Current State: Transformed (Divine Stasis)

Race: Demigod (Daughter of Zeus)

Form: Pine Tree (Protective Seal)

Rank: Legendary

Condition:

Mortal body destroyed in combat.

Soul bound to a sacred pine at the border of Camp Half-Blood by Zeus.

Consciousness: dormant, fragmented dreams.

Abilities:

Barrier Anchor: Her presence strengthens the magical wards of Camp Half-Blood.

Divine Repulsion: Repels monsters, curses, and hostile entities.

Zeus' Blessing: Static divine aura prevents desecration of camp borders.

Weakness:

Any harm or corruption to the tree directly harms Thalia's soul.

If destroyed, Camp Half-Blood's barrier collapses.

Chiron was now standing in full horse-man form, holding his bow high in salute. Argus drove us out of the countryside and onto the highway.

It felt weird to be back in the "real world." After two weeks at Half-Blood Hill, McDonald's signs, shopping malls, and kids arguing in the back seats of minivans all seemed strangely surreal. Like I'd slipped into somebody else's dream.

"So far so good," I muttered. "Ten miles, no monsters."

Annabeth shot me a look sharp enough to cut glass. "Bad luck to say that, seaweed brain."

I raised an eyebrow. "Superstition doesn't stop ambushes."

"Neither does tempting fate."

"Fair." I leaned back. "So tell me—why exactly do you hate me again?"

"I don't hate you," she said quickly.

"Could've fooled me."

She folded her Yankees cap, setting it neatly in her lap. "Look, we're not supposed to get along. Our parents are rivals."

"Over what? Ocean vs. Wisdom Bowl 3000?"

Her sigh was theatrical. "How many reasons do you want? One time my mom caught Poseidon with his girlfriend in Athena's temple—which is hugely disrespectful, by the way. Another time, Athena and Poseidon competed to be patron of Athens. Your dad—" she stopped herself, corrected, "Poseidon created a saltwater spring. My mom created the olive tree. The people chose olives. End of story."

I tapped the window. "They must've really hated seasoning. If she'd invented pizza, your mom would've won every time."

Annabeth glared. "Forget it."

I smirked, satisfied. "You brought it up."

In the front seat, Argus didn't say anything, but one blue eye on the back of his neck winked at me as we merged onto the highway. Rain started falling as traffic slowed us down in Queens, the city glowing through the mist. By the time we reached Manhattan, sunset was fading into evening.

Argus dropped us at the Greyhound Station on the Upper East Side, not far from my mom's old apartment. Taped to a mailbox was a soggy flyer with my face on it: HAVE YOU SEEN THIS BOY?

I tore it down before Annabeth or Grover could notice. Argus unloaded our bags, made sure we had our bus tickets, then drove away, one eye on the back of his hand tracking us as he disappeared into the rainy street.

Grover shouldered his backpack and glanced down the avenue. "You want to know why she married him, Percy?"

I frowned. "Can you reading my mind or something?"

He hesitated, ears twitching. "I… I can't sense your emotions properly. Your thoughts—it's like there's a wall."

[System Notification: Gamer's Mind – Passive Resistance: Active. Emotional intrusion blocked.]

I didn't need to say anything. The system was doing its job. Grover tilted his head, clearly frustrated. "Uh… never mind. Guess I'll have to just watch what you do instead."

I nodded and kept walking, careful not to let the flyer or the wet streets distract me. On a normal day, my mom would be home from the candy store by now.

The truth was, I didn't care about Zeus's lightning bolt, or saving the world, or even helping Poseidon out of trouble. The more I thought about it, the more I resented him for never visiting, never helping my mom, never even checking in. He could've easily found a loophole. He only claimed me because he needed someone to do his work.

All I cared about was my mom. Hades had taken her unfairly, and Hades was going to give her back.

I let the thought settle in, letting the anger sharpen my focus. The rain slicked streets reflected neon signs and wet asphalt, but I didn't falter. The mission didn't change. I didn't need sympathy or reminders of what I'd lost.

I checked the bus schedule, noting departures, arrivals, and the time it would take to cross the state. The bus station was crowded, mortal security moderate, minimal magical interference, exits and entrances clear.

Annabeth leaned over, scanning the area. "We need to move quickly once the bus arrives. Stay alert. Monsters could track magic or demigod energy."

I nodded, eyes flicking to every shadow, every reflected surface. I knew how fast things could go sideways.

Grover, still trying to adjust to not reading me, muttered under his breath, "You're hiding a lot more than usual, Percy."

I didn't answer. All that mattered now was keeping focused: the bus, the city, and the first step of the quest.

You will be betrayed by one who calls you a friend, the Oracle whispered in ear somehow. You will fail to save what matters most in the end.

Wow. Did you rehearse that, or do all voices in my head use cliché villain lines?' I thought..

——————————————

The rain kept coming down.

We got restless waiting for the bus and decided to play some Hacky Sack with one of Grover's apples. Annabeth was unbelievable. She could bounce the apple off her knee, her elbow, her shoulder—whatever. I wasn't too bad myself, though I focused more on predicting the apple's trajectory than showing off tricks. Quick mental calculations, angles, timing—simple combat-style thinking in disguise.

The game ended when I tossed the apple toward Grover, and it got too close to his mouth. In one mega goat bite, our Hacky Sack disappeared—core, stem, and all.

Grover blushed. He tried to apologize, but Annabeth and I were too busy cracking up. I kept an eye on our surroundings, though—reflexes always on.

Finally, the bus came. As we stood in line to board, Grover started looking around, sniffing the air like he smelled his favorite school cafeteria delicacy—enchiladas.

"What is it?" I asked, scanning the passengers and exits.

"I don't know," he said tensely. "Maybe it's nothing."

Nothing, my system warned. I pivoted subtly, watching the back and sides. Danger rarely announces itself.

We got on board and found seats together in the back. I stowed my backpack, keeping one hand free to subtly test for magical interference. Annabeth kept slapping her Yankees cap nervously against her thigh. I ignored her, calculating angles of escape, alternative routes, and environmental advantages.

As the last passengers got on, Annabeth clamped her hand onto my knee. "Percy."

An old lady had just boarded the bus. Crumpled velvet dress, lace gloves, shapeless orange-knit hat—paisley purse. When she tilted her head up, her black eyes glittered. My pulse didn't spike, but my mind clicked into gear: countermeasure scenarios, exits, potential distractions.

It was Mrs. Dodds. Older, more withered, but definitely the same evil face.

Behind her came two more old ladies: one in a green hat, one in a purple. Triplet demon grandmothers. I assessed their spacing, arm positions, lines of sight.

They sat in the front row, right behind the driver. Their legs crossed over the aisle, forming an X. A casual gesture—but tactical. Block the path. Control the terrain.

The bus pulled out, heading through slick streets of Manhattan. "She didn't stay dead long," I said, keeping my voice neutral.

"I thought you said they could be dispelled for a lifetime."

"I said if you're lucky," Annabeth said. "You're obviously not."

"All three of them," Grover whimpered. "Di immortales!"

I leaned back slightly, mapping the bus in my head. Windows: locked. Doors: manual, difficult to open quickly. Passengers: potential shields—or collateral. Strategy: anticipate attacks, create openings, exploit distractions. I ran mental drills: throw an object, use aisle space, force them to divide attention. Calculate timing for Grover's escape with minimal risk.

I could teleport behind them, slip through the mist, and take a quick strike—but no. Not yet. I could speed blitz them but Annabeth and Grover were on the bus, sure—but I couldn't teleport in front of Annabeth, either. I didn't fully trust her yet; revealing all my tricks now would only give her more information than I wanted her to have.

"It's okay," Annabeth said, thinking hard. "The Furies. The three worst monsters from the Underworld. No problem. We'll just slip out the windows."

"They don't open," Grover moaned.

I scanned again, observing their formation. Alternate strategy: funnel them toward one point, create misdirection, exploit their predictable pattern.

"A back exit?" Annabeth suggested.

There wasn't one. We were on Ninth Avenue, heading for the Lincoln Tunnel. I leaned back, quiet, running multiple contingencies in my head. Attack vectors, defense positions, environmental manipulations. If we go under the tunnel they'll get elemental advantage, and could pull off some crazy stuff.

"They shouldn't attack us with witnesses around," I said. "Will they?"

"Mortals don't have good eyes," Annabeth reminded me. "Their brains can only process what they see through the Mist."

"They'll see three old ladies killing us, won't they?" I asked.

"Hard to say. But we can't count on mortals for help. Maybe an emergency exit in the roof…?"

We hit the Lincoln Tunnel, and the bus went dark except for the running lights down the aisle. It was eerily quiet without the sound of the rain.

Mrs. Dodds got up. In a flat, rehearsed voice, she announced to the whole bus: "I need to use the restroom."

"So do I," said the second sister.

"So do I," said the third.

They all started coming down the aisle.

"I've got it," Annabeth said. "Percy, take my hat."

"Hm?"

"You're the one they want. Turn invisible and go up the aisle. Let them pass you. Maybe you can get to the front and get away."

"But wouldn't you have a better chance—"

"There's an outside chance they might not notice us," Annabeth said. "Your smell might be overpowering. You're a son of one of the Big Three."

I nodded, slipping the hat over my head. Mist manipulation could help me blur the outlines, but I didn't telegraph anything. No teleporting, no sudden strikes—not yet. Showing the Furies everything too early would ruin my advantage. And even with Annabeth and Grover on my side, I couldn't trust her completely yet. Every move had to stay measured. Every secret carefully held.

"I shouldn't just leave you."

"Don't worry about us," Grover said. "Go!"

I took the Yankees cap and put it on. When I looked down, my body wasn't there anymore.

Instead of rushing straight to the front, I crept silently toward the middle of the bus. From here, I could observe the Furies, gauge their attention, and plan my next move. I wasn't going to make a mistake by showing all my cards too soon. Mist curled lightly around me, hiding my outline, and I kept my breathing slow, controlled.

Ten rows up, I ducked behind a seat just as the Furies walked past the back. Mrs. Dodds sniffed sharply, her eyes sweeping over the aisle, but apparently she didn't see anything. Her sisters followed, all three moving past without noticing me.

The old ladies were not old ladies anymore. Their faces stayed the same—still terrifying—but their bodies had shriveled into leathery, brown hag forms with batlike wings and hands and feet like gargoyle claws. Their handbags had transformed into fiery whips.

The Furies swarmed Grover and Annabeth, lashing their whips and hissing: "Where is it? Where?"

The other passengers screamed, diving for cover. They were seeing something, all right.

Annabeth shouted, "He's not here!"

The Furies raised their whips, but I stayed in the middle of the bus, crouched behind a row of seats. Mist curled lightly around me, blurring my outline. I could watch them from here, gauge their attention, and wait for their guard to drop. Rushing in now would be reckless—I couldn't risk showing everything I could do too soon.

Annabeth drew her bronze knife. Grover grabbed a tin can from his snack bag, ready to throw. I clenched my fists and waited, calculating the perfect moment to act, keeping my hand close to my chest while letting the chaos work to my advantage.

I couldn't wait any longer. Timing was everything.

"Right here!" I yelled, voice echoing off the bus walls.

In a blur, I vanished—water traveling through water in the air—and reappeared right in front of the two nearest Furies. Mist swirled around me, obscuring their vision just long enough. My sword flashed in a single, precise arc. Both of them shrieked as bronze met leather, and in one clean slash, they collapsed, their fiery whips sizzling to the floor.

The third Fury whirled around in surprise, wings snapping. I ducked behind a seat, mist curling tighter around me to hide my next move.

Annabeth didn't hesitate. With a silent, fluid motion, she lunged from the back row and drove her bronze knife straight into the Fury's back. The monster let out a final, screeching howl before crumpling beside the others.

Grover stared, mouth open, while I wiped the condensation off my sword. "Good timing," I muttered, though my heart was still racing.

"Zeus will destroy you!" the Fury screamed. "Hades will have your souls!"

"Braccas meas vescimini!" I yelled.

It meant Eat my pants! It just felt so right to say that. Thunder rattled the bus, making the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

[Instinct Activated]

[Summon Storm Reducing Effect]

"That stupid—"

"Get out!" Annabeth shouted. I didn't need more encouragement.

We burst from the bus into the pouring rain. Passengers scattered in every direction, dazed or panicking, some arguing with the driver, others screaming, "We're going to die!" A Hawaiian-shirted tourist managed to snap a photo of me before I even grasped my sword.

"Our bags!" Grover yelled.

"No time!" I barked.

[Create Earthquake]

BOOOOOM!

The bus shuddered violently as the windows exploded outward. Lightning arced across the roof, carving a molten gash. Inside, the wail of the Fury warned me she wasn't gonna just die normally.

"Run!" Annabeth shouted. "She called reinforcements! We need to get out of here!"

We plunged into the dark, dripping woods, the bus flaming behind us, lightning reflecting off puddles on the ground, and the storm overhead roaring like it knew we were coming.

————————————

Authors Note: this chapter was rushed because my school is starting tomorrow and this will probably be the Final chapter for maybe a week or two. And no, this isn't going to be dropped I still have plenty of ideas for the story. If you have any ideas or recommendations just comment under this chapter.