The Hidden Pillar of Olympus (PJO Male Reader Insert)

It'd Probably Be Best To Fear The Reaper

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I haven't exactly spoken since the whole.. You know.

The others definitely find it a bit odd but seem to think it's just me focusing on the search for anything out of the ordinary. So they hadn't exactly brought it up thankfully.

We were walking down this street that I didn't know the name of.

I don't really know Paris even slightly like I do London. So all I know is we're far away from the Tower, River, and bridge we crossed to get over here.

Grover still had his bag of empty Coke cans and was munching on one of the aluminum cans.

About halfway through our walk, we noticed that less and less people were walking about. The skies had become this light shade of gray, while the clouds looked heavy and ready to burst.

Percy eventually spoke, "So, what's gonna be the plan to deal with Death?"

Grover paused midbite and glanced over at him.

"'Deal with' as in?," I questioned for clarification.

"Just in general, not an attack plan."

"Good, because I don't think we can exactly 'fight Death'," Grover told us, biting into his can.

Annabeth said, "I truly don't think it'll even come to that. If War was sort of reasonable, and she looks up to him then maybe he'll be reasonable as well."

"Abaddon only gave her ring up because you used that against her. I don't think Death will be so easy," I reply, "Manipulating the dead is one thing, but manipulating Death? I really don't think that's possible."

"Well, maybe if we--"

Annabeth paused midsentence.

Though to be fair, all four of us paused in our tracks at the sight that was just down the sidewalk. The sound of Grover dropping his bag struck loudly through the air. And they were already being scattered by a large unnatural gust of wind.

There was a man standing down the street ahead of us.

Just staring.. I think...

He was old, with flakey skin, and balding gray hair. His skin was also sunken and sagging with deep visible wrinkles. They were patterned in a way that reminded me of contour lines on maps. And all he had for eyes were these dark, empty sockets.

All that and the added touch of more creep of wearing just a full black suit.

No color whatsoever.

He had this strange tinge of an ethereal glow around him.

I make a, potentially awfully timed, joke, "So, I take it we can all see the weird guy this time?"

Before I could get a reply, the man slowly turned and started walking down the street. It was so nonchalant that it was as if he wasn't actually staring at us in the first place. And like he didn't even notice us.

We hurriedly start chasing after him.

Grover had tried to turn around to go back after his Coke cans, but I pulled him back before he could get too far. We didn't really have the time for him to collect all those cans at the surprising speed the man was walking.

We followed him down at least seven blocks before he took a turn to the left.

When we reached the turn, we stopped.

It was a decently-sized intersection and at the far end of it were a Church and a place called: 'Les Deux Magots'

Grover let out at the sight, "Di Immortales!"