Percy Jackson: Gods' Bane (DARK PERCY)

𝔓𝔢𝔯𝔰𝔢𝔲𝔰 𝔊𝔬𝔡𝔰𝔟𝔞𝔫𝔢

                        (Hades POV)

From the moment he was born, Perseus Jackson was blessed with everything a man could possibly dream of. He walked like a God, talked like a sage, and fought like the devil himself.

But in this moment he was stood silent. Silent as death. Silent as the moment before a raging storm.

Hades couldn't even hear him breathing. Percy stood frozen, like he was caught in time.

Hades stood, and watched as the young god's complexion dropped to a sickly pale shade. Percy's chest began to spasm, like he was trying to gasp for air but couldn't.

Perseus dropped slowly to his knees, his eyes glazed over.

Hades waited to see what he would do.

After a long moment Percy finally rasped out a word, sounding like a nearly drowned man taking in air again.

"No."

Hades shifted closer to him. "What?"

Perseus lifted his head, an insane look on his face.

"No!" He growled.

He reached out towards his sword, his hand jolting out mechanically, like he wasn't in control.

Hades rushed forward, hands out. "Percy! I had no say in this, it was Aphrodite. Don't punish me for her crime!"

Percy began to rise on shaking legs, using his sword as a support.

"But... you forced her to be reborn." He said in a slow tone that wavered with anger.

His eyes were black, nothing like the playful sea green eyes of the child who Hades had known before. No, this was not Percy Jackson. This was Perseus Godsbane.

And though his rage filled eyes were set on him, Hades had no answers.

At least, none that would spare him from Perseus's wrath.

                          (Perseus)

Perseus stood before Hades, but he didn't feel as though he was with Hades.

He felt numb. Empty almost. He knew he was speaking words, yes. But he was unsure if he could have even repeated them if he tried. He had felt this nothingness before. Yes, he had. And it wrapped around him like a blanket of smoke, drowning out everything.

It hadn't left after that day in the battlefield after all. It had just been waiting. Like a dormant sickness, ready to rise when something invited it. From his detached world he watched a young man with black hair and a shimmering sword make his way towards another man in robes who cowered.

The man raised his sword, jerking it up in a spastic motion, like a puppet on a string.

"Percy."

The older man in black robes raised his hands, falling backwards as he tripped over the rocky ground.

"Percy!"

The wielding man began to swoop his sword down towards the cowering one and-

"PERCY!"

Perseus froze mid swing.

That voice. He knew that voice.

Slowly, Perseus turned towards the gentle but persistent voice.

And he found Heista standing behind him. Her hands were out in a non threatening position.