If you would've told Percy Jackson a year ago he wasn't the only prophecized demigod with the weight of the world on his shoulders, he would've been elated.
Yet now, it was his only and dearest wish.
When Percy Jackson, (in)famous Son of Poseidon...
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˚ ✦ . . ˚ . . ✦ ˚ . ★⋆.
PERCY THOUGHT HE HAD REACHEDHIS TWENTY-FOUR HOUR LIMIT of miserableness that day; Annabeth had disappeared and no one was taking it seriously, he was back to eating alone again, Menodora seemed to have gone right back to her leave-me-be attitude, and now Thalia and Chiron had teamed up with Mr. D against Percy. Except for Annabeth dying, or camp Half-Blood under attack, Percy couldn't imagine things getting worse.
Then Murphy's law burst into his dreams and gave him a big, fat middlefinger, as if to say, suck on that, Jackson, because that's exactly what's going to happening!
In his dream, Annabeth had been climbing up a hillside, navigating through old, broken columns and black marble. When she reached the top, Percy could see exactly what she was; Luke Castellan in excruciating pain. Good, Percy thought.
He was crumpled on the rocky ground, trying to rise. A black fog of darkness encircled him, making it hard for Percy to see him properly. His face was full of cuts, the sweat that drenched his face seeping into the cuts.
Luke called out her name, begging for Annabeth to help him.
She ran forward.
Percy had tried to scream, warn her that he was a traitor, but his voice didn't work.
They started talking, Luke trying to convince Annabeth to help him out. Just when Percy thought that she'd leave him to die, the ceiling of darkness above Luke started to crumble. Black rocks fell, and Luke yelled in pain.
Just as a crack appeared in the ceiling, Annabeth ran over to Luke. The whole ceiling dropped onto her hands. She had managed to hold it somehow, tons upon tons of rocks. She shouldn't have been able to do that (although Percy was infinitely thankful she could).
Like the slimy rat he was, Luke rolled free, thanking Annabeth for her help. He still seemed pretty shaken, but Percy wanted to strangle him nonetheless.
"Help me hold it!" Annabeth screamed, the pain breaking through her voice.
And like the slimy rat he was, Luke left Annabeth to die.
Just before Percy woke up, the ceiling crumbled again, pushing Annabeth further into the ground.
˗ˏˋ 'ˎ˗
When Percy had walked out of his cabin, he was met with a disturbing sight: Thalia was talking with Menodora a few feet away from the Hermes cabin. As she spoke, Thalia had this smile on her face that Percy was unfamiliar with. It wasn't the sarcastic smile that she flashed at Percy most of the time, or the genuine smile that graced her face when she was Annabeth. This was new, foreign, and Percy didn't trust it.
