𝐃𝐄𝐉𝐀 𝐕𝐔 • Percy Jackson.

22

THE GREEN LIGHT FADED. They soared above, passing black rock layers (sedimentary and metamorphic and shit mentioned in sixth grade science–right?) They kept at it until they broke through the surface of Los Angeles Bay.  Despite the joy of leaving literal hell, the shore looked like one too. It was a disaster of its own; smoke from fires, earthquakes, the sound of screaming. It wasn't hard to discern it was the day of the solstice. (He just kinda knew.)

A Coast Guard boat appeared not long after, "kids get on the boat! Hold onto the life savers!" They didn't stay for long, dropping them off at the Santa Monica pier with towels and water bottles, before rushing off to help others.

Percy felt so uncomfortable with soaking wet & dripping clothes. (Even his socks!) They stumbled down the beach once reaching the shore as they watched the city burn in red against the sunset. "I don't believe it, we went all that way–" Annabeth spoke, breathless. "It was a trick," he said. "A strategy worthy of Athena." He stated looking forward.

"Hey," She warned. "You get it, don’t you?" Percy asks and she drops her eyes, the anger faded. "Yeah. I get it." She mutters. Amani doesn't pay attention and Percy can see from the corner of his eye.

He always can. The way he's staring off in the distance as he's walking with the most horrible posture he's ever seen. The tired boy he's known since Yancy who took way too long to bother talking to him.

He thinks back to what he said, I'm supposed to stay here, he said it with that stupid smile of his. What was that supposed to mean? The questions ringing and has been after the aftermath of everything else has faded. He tried to connect it to what Hades said, Inaya? Was that the name Hades mentioned? He thought, why was she in the underworld? He wondered, but alas, there was no miracle of an answer.

"Percy…" He hears Annabeth say. "I’m sorry about your mother. I’m so sorry…." He wished Annabeth didn't say it so he ignored her.  Pretending like a little kid who would plug his ears and sing "lalalala I can't hear you" because he'd probably start tearing up if he heard anymore. So he didn't talk about it, didn't hear about it, instead he fed  his anger against the god who had decided to fuck them all over.

"The prophecy was right." He explains. "You shall go west and face the god who has turned." It was clear who. He hears Amani mutter, "the prophecies are always right.." And he clenches his fist to not think about the one he was in. He was just glad it was over right?

"It's not Hades, it never was." Amani spoke, looking at the sky. Grover shook his head, Mystified, "but who would be that sneaky? Who would want war that bad?" Percy stopped in his tracks, looking down the beach. He couldn't believe how naive Grover could be.

"Gee, let me think." He said while bringing his sight forward and caught the figure of a man waiting for them. The fire behind them in the city grew and the man watched it, his orchestration, in his black leather duster and sunglasses.  His motorcycle rumbled beside him, its headlight turning the sand red.

"Hey, kid," Ares said, seeming genuinely pleased to see him. "You were supposed to die." He could feel a deep rage bellow from his core. "You tricked me," he said. "You stole the helmet and the master bolt." Ares grinned. "Well, now, I didn’t steal them personally. Gods taking each other’s symbols of power – that’s a big no-no. But you’re not the only hero in the world who can run errands." He frowned.

"Who did you use? Clarisse? She was there at the winter solstice." The idea seemed to amuse the god.

His red eyes shifted to Amani for a mere second and he felt his throat dry up and his heart drop.  Surely Mani hadn't right? Ares brushed it off. "Doesn’t matter. The point is, kid, you’re impeding the war effort. See, you’ve got to die in the Underworld. Then Old Seaweed will be mad at Hades for killing you. Corpse Breath will have Zeus’s master bolt, so Zeus’ll be mad at him. And Hades is still looking for this…" From his pocket he took out a ski cap – the kind bank robbers wear – and placed it between the handlebars of his bike. Immediately, the cap transformed into an elaborate bronze war helmet.