The Moon's Shine (PJO)

Chapter 1

Why am I even here? Percy Jackson wondered to himself as he pushed the door open into the Empire State Building.

And that was a good question. There were too many things to still take care of a week after the Second Giant War—and he was downright exhausted. And given how the gods had been treating him recently, they probably wouldn't even care about his absence. Furthermore, he was at least ten minutes late as he had been helping the Demeter cabin weed out the camp from Gaea's invasive plants . . .

He paused as he finally took in the state of the ground floor. 

The lights were off, and shadows covered the corners and walls with black ink. A small beam of sunlight peeked around the curtain covering the window and illuminated the desk at which the boy guarding Olympus always sat.

There was no one sitting there. The pens, papers, and the surface of the desk itself were all covered with a thick layer of dust. 

It looked like the beginning of a haunted house.

Percy subconsciously touched his pocket. When he felt the pen there, he visibly relaxed. He hoped wouldn't need to use it now, but if he did, any enemy would soon realize he was armed and ready.

But a shiver still crawled down his spine as he crept towards the elevator. What happened here? 

Just as he passed the desk, something creaked. Percy jumped, and in a flash, took out his pen—but quickly realized that he'd only stepped on a creaky floorboard.

Percy laughed to himself and covered the distance to the elevator in a few quick strides. The guard probably went on break or something, he thought as he pressed the button to call the elevator car.

However, his theory seemed half-hearted to his ears too. It didn't explain the dust—that amount could've only been built up with days of no activity.

Ding!

The doors of the elevator slid open, distracting Percy from his thoughts. He stepped inside.

Unlike the ground floor, the elevator had its light on. Percy smiled, relaxing as the doors closed. Even Apollo's elevator music was still playing.

And then the elevator moved on its own, without Percy pressing a single button—as though a ghost was controlling it.

It was fast, too. Percy had to grab the handrail so he didn't topple over. He suddenly felt afraid, fearing his death. I never should've come here. This is the lamest way to die—

The elevator jolted to a stop, throwing Percy to the ground. The elevator doors opened, allowing a huge amount of light to invade the cabin. Exactly like being on stage, Percy thought to himself as he staggered to his feet and squinted. Except for the light directors are actively trying to blind you.

Percy steeled himself, then walked into the light. (He didn't want to be in the stupid elevator anymore, lest it self-destructed.)

He emerged onto the other side, the golden road beneath his feet gleaming brilliantly in the sun. 

He was now in a city. A city full of golden roads, buildings, fountains, and humongous palaces. An architect might be skeptical if all of the gold was real, but Percy knew the answer.

This was Olympus. And the architect could make gold appear with a snap of her fingers. He'd seen her do that before. After all, he was her—

No. Percy squeezed his eyes shut. Not anymore. Not after that event.

He looked around, trying to distract himself from his grief. 

It worked. But not the way he wanted it to.