Clockwork

47

Nothing was waiting for them in the deepest part of Tartarus.

Heat, titans, monsters- there was nothing. Just an endless field covered in reddish dirt illuminated by some unknown source of light. It was peaceful. So peaceful, Percy had almost forgotten that there were other people with him. He momentarily forgot that there was a goal he had in mind when he was sent here, and as he continued mindlessly walking through the endless flatland he forgot that he was supposed to be doing something.

Wait... was he supposed to be doing something?

If he'd forgotten, is it even important?

He felt as if he could walk forever, and be content with it. Content with being alone in a wide empty field, walking with no destination.

Wait.

Content with being alone in a wide empty field, walking with no desti--

"Someone's in my head."

The sentence broke through the peace. The shattered silence shredded whatever sense of calm had coerced Percy into whatever fantasy this was and forced Percy to open his eyes.

The first thing he noticed was the light. Or the lack of it. Wherever he was, it was poorly lit and everything was barely visible. His eyes were open but his body wouldn't move. He couldn't even turn his head to look around him.

He only saw the outline of a snake, in a corner on the ceiling, looking at him curiously. The snake's piercing gaze reflected human understanding as it peered at him.

The serpent stared at him for hours, unmoving, its piercing brown eyes cutting through the darkness. Percy, unable to move anything but his eyes, settled for the staring contest this reptile initiated. Despite it being a snake in a room where Percy had seemingly lost his ability to move, Percy felt no ill intent coming from it. It did not move to come near his defenseless form, nor did it run away once he spotted it. Eventually, Percy lost.

He blinked. Percy hadn't felt the need to involuntarily blink since before he died. When he did so, the snake was gone and Percy was no longer in the strange room. He could even move.

Percy sat up and looked around, a loud pounding in his ears. He was on the burning ground, surrounded by the people he was teleported here with.

Why could Percy feel his burning skin? Why did his body hurt so much?

His chest raised as the burning air forced itself into his lungs. Lungs he shouldn't have.

He looked down at his body, and it looked normal. Too normal. The skin was the same, but the scars from where he had been cut were no longer there and his veins were no longer running black with oil. They looked normal. Like he had actual blood running through his veins. The pounding in his ears got louder and sped up, and as his mind forced him to realize that the pounding was something he removed a short while ago, he shuddered. Then cursed out loud, his voice a grating sound from having vocal cords not reinforced with metal.

"Well, that wasn't a very nice word," a soporific voice said. Eliot. Percy hardly ever paid attention to the son of Hypnos that always seemed to be attached to Desmond. Of course, that being said, Percy never disregarded his existence so he should've noticed that Eliot was there. Eliot didn't come along with them, as he wasn't one of the ones who swore loyalty to Percy. But here he was, half asleep on his feet, his silver hair flowing in a nonexistent breeze. He had strange gray eyes, ones Percy had never seen since Eliot was almost always sleeping whenever he saw him.