The Ruin of the Orb

File: Requiem

For some reason, Percy remembered when, late into the night, Wade tried to explain the concept of time to him.

Time doesn't move in a straight line. If it did, life would be much easier for everyone around. Paradoxes couldn't happen either because time streams would never overlap. Maybe one shouldn't say that they couldn't happen but that they shouldn't. If a paradox did occur, it would be much harder to right it if time ran in a straight line rather than just dropping said paradox off at the next stream.

None of that mattered, though, because time didn't and doesn't move in a straight line. Wonderful, interesting paradoxes and ridiculous miracles occurred because time streams were much easier to hop across when they didn't move in one direction.

Many beings were aware of time's passage and of people and things that were misplaced along the way. Deadpool was one of the most obvious ones; as well as Marc Spector, Nathan Summers, and one Spirit of Vengeance that was fucked over because the Devil couldn't keep his fucking hands to himself.

Percy Jackson was one too.

And... Maybe none of that made any sense. To be fair to himself, it was three in the morning and it soundly very profound at the time.

However, none of that mattered because, if one bothered to remember, Ghost Rider had shown up and done their penance stare without saying a word. It was kind of rude if you asked him.

When the Spirit of Vengeance looked at the son of Poseidon, it seemed like everything happened in an instant and nothing at all. Images flashed in front of his eyes, like he was reliving a lifetime in a moment, but the vengeance didn't feel like what he was expecting. The fire felt soothing, like a warm hand on his shoulder, instead of a raging inferno. In an instant, it was like he was transported to a different plane, a different stream, where everything was in red tones and hushed whispers, and the Ghost Rider stood in front of him with their head tilted.

Percy took a shaky breath. "Yo, what the fuck?" He looked around again at what looked like a post-apocalyptic town, spray painted walls and everything. "This is... Um..."

Ghost Rider seemed to waver for a moment before raising their hands. "You're the one that screamed."

"I thought I was on fire!" Percy threw them a particularly venomous glare before he went back to looking around. The streetlights were sparkling, dipping low enough that they could graze the ground. Though the place seemed abandoned, there was something off about it that set the demigod-turned-SHIELD-agent on edge. "What is all this?"

"Some people say it's Hell." The skeleton in a leather jacket and Tims gave the impression that they shrugged. "I can say that it's not. Well, it's not Literal Hell. What do you think it is?"

"Can I walk around?"

"Don't venture too far."

Percy let out a small chuckle. "Ominous." He waved a hand slightly in the air anyways, controlling the water in the air to get a feel for his immediate surroundings. Hmm, maybe that was why the gods tried to NERF him. Poseidon did say he was one of the most powerful kids he ever had. None of them were as connected with their powers as he was. When he learned a skill, he ran with it and, boy, was that a useful one to have.

Sensing nothing close to him, the demigod focused his attention more on his surroundings, at the crumbled buildings and tilted street signs. The layout was familiar to him, like an insistent tugging on the back of his mind, and he inspected the spray-painted words on one of the more intact walls.

"Gods amongst men"

"They think we don't know"

"Requiem"