The Warfighter, the Storm, and the Moon

Chapter 15: Switchback

'Switchback'

29-Aug-2030, 1530R

LCDR Percy Jackson, US Navy, Son of Neptune

DEVGRU

New York City, New York, USA

If you told me I needed formal wear for my visit back to the mythological world, I would've laughed at you. Even with hindsight being 20/20, I still would've laughed at you. Because I didn't think it'd take Chris twenty goddamn years to pop the question to Clarisse.

"Well, I have to say, that wasn't particularly fun," I sighed as Sherman and I left the tailor shop, having to go relatively slow since the boot splinting my broken ankle was holding me back. Since he was the best man, he handled my suit rental (and all related fees) while dragging me along to assist with bachelor party planning and other logistical preparations.

"Well, that's the life of a groomsman," the son of Ares replied with a grin. "Gotta do what needs to be done to get our boy hitched, as well as ensure his last night of freedom is a good one."

"Fair enough. Now, what's next?"

"Well, we gotta finish up the bachelor party logistics. Just gotta meet with a guy first."

"Sure, sure," I murmured, following him through the streets of New York. It had been a while since I'd been back in my home state, and while I was no stranger to large cities—given that Virginia Beach is pretty damn big—I had forgotten what a metropolis felt like. As my eyes wandered the towering skyscrapers, dense sidewalks, and stagnant roads, I felt old memories, good and bad, rushing to the front of my mind.

And then suddenly, they were all shoved aside by a very particular memory at a very particular sight: a man sitting on a bench on the edge of Central Park. He was unassuming—baseball cap, sunglasses, dad-bod, cargo shorts, polo shirt—but he was a tough man, undoubtedly one of the best warriors on the planet. And tattoos that adorned his forearms proved it if you knew him.

"Yang? Go ahead and meet with your boy. We'll rendezvous with the Stolls in a bit, yeah?" I asked, watching as the familiar figure checked his watch.

"Huh? What's going on?" he asked, halting in his tracks.

"Just wanna relive some old memories. Haven't been back here in a while, y'know."

A look of understanding came on his face before he nodded and spun around, continuing his walk down the sidewalk. Doubling back to a crosswalk, I crossed the street and after some searching, ducked into a public bathroom—one without any attendants or people waiting, surprisingly.

Around six minutes later, I walked out, though I looked as though I aged twenty years—because I did. You see, Juventas—"as a little bonus in exchange for tours of the mortal world"—gave me the ability to change my appearance. Not like a shapeshifter, mind you, but in terms of age: gray hairs, weathered face, and the like. Rather than look like a scarred teenager, I was a scarred... middle-aged man, I guess? Whatever the case, it made the most sense, considering I didn't want the familiar man to break his brain.

Conveniently enough, there he was: sitting peacefully with a woman on a bench on the edge of a nearby field, watching some teenagers and young kids play. After taking a few breaths, I made my approach.

"...yeah, I really think it'll be good for her. It'd be easier to... Percy?" the woman said in shock, breaking her chain of words as she made eye contact with me. The man next to her turned towards me. Silently, he stood, slowly walking towards me until we were a couple of yards apart.