Love Against All Odds

Oskar - Clazmonian Sow

"SQUEEEEAL!"

The piercing cry reverberated across upper Manhattan, sending demigods and monsters alike into a frozen state of terror.

Grover cast me a frantic glance. "Why does that sound familiar... It can't be!"

I understood his concern.

Two years prior, we'd received a dubious "gift" from Pan—a massive boar that ferried us across the Southwest (after attempting to eliminate us). The boar emitted a similar squeal, but the current sound was sharper, more intense, akin to... as if the boar had an irate companion.

"SQUEEEEAL!"

A gargantuan pink creature sprouting wings soared above the reservoir, a nightmare concoction reminiscent of Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade.

"A sow!" Annabeth exclaimed. "Seek shelter!"

Demigods dispersed as the winged porcine entity descended. Its wings, pink as flamingos', matched its skin in an oddly beautiful way, yet there was little room for cuteness as its hooves thudded dangerously close to one of Annabeth's siblings.

The sow rampaged, toppling trees and releasing a cloud of noxious gas before taking flight once more, preparing for another assault.

"What the fuck is that?" I grumbled.

"The Clazmonian Sow. It haunted Greek settlements in ancient times." Zoe confirmed.

"Let me guess," I retorted. "Hercules beat it."

"No," Zoe corrected. "As far as I know, no hero has triumphed over it."

"Fantastic," I muttered with a smirk, "Now, I really have to beat it if only to be better than Hercules."

Zoe shot me an angry look. "Not amusing."

The Titan's army was regaining composure from their initial shock. They realized the monstrous pig wasn't targeting them.

We had moments before they would be ready to engage while our forces remained in disarray.

Each time the sow emitted its noxious belch, Grover's nature spirits whimpered and retreated into the safety of their trees.

"That pig needs to be dealt with, though," I declared, seizing a grappling hook from one of Annabeth's siblings. "I'll handle it. Achilles 2.0, stay here. You all hold off the rest of the enemy. Push them back!"

"Stop calling me that," Percy said, annoyed.

"But, Oskar," Grover interjected, weariness evident in his voice, "what if we can't?"

I could see the exhaustion taking its toll on him.

The exertion of magic had drained him.

Annabeth didn't fare much better, nursing a shoulder injury sustained from battle. I couldn't gauge the Hunters' state, but the enemy army's right flank now stood between them and us.

I hesitated to leave my friends in such dire straits, but the sow posed the gravest threat.

It threatened to obliterate everything: structures, foliage, unsuspecting mortals.

It had to be neutralized.

"Fall back if necessary," I instructed. "Just impede their advance. I'll be back soon."

"Oskar, wait!" Zoe shouted, but it was too late.

I wielded the grappling hook like a lasso without a chance to reconsider. As the sow descended for its next assault, I hurled the hook with all my might. It ensnared the base of the pig's wing, eliciting a furious squeal as it veered off course, dragging the rope and me into the sky.

I'd strongly recommend taking the subway if you're travelling downtown from Central Park. Sure, flying pigs might be quicker, but they're much riskier.

The sow zipped past the Plaza Hotel, diving into the canyon of Fifth Avenue. My brilliant idea was to ascend the rope and hop onto the pig's back. However, I was preoccupied with swinging around, narrowly avoiding streetlamps and building facades.

Here's another lesson learned: climbing a rope in gym class is one thing; scaling a rope tethered to a flying pig's wing while hurtling at breakneck speeds is an entirely different challenge.

We weaved through several blocks and continued our southward trajectory on Park Avenue.

Then, Grand Central loomed ahead. At the main entrance stood the colossal statue of Hermes, seemingly dormant due to its lofty perch. I hurtled toward it at demigod-crushing velocity.

I swung outward with all my strength. Instead of colliding with the Hermes statue, I whipped around it, looping the rope beneath its arms. I intended to tether the pig but underestimated the force of a thirty-ton sow in flight. I released my grip as the pig tore the statue from its pedestal. Hermes embarked on an unexpected journey, becoming the pig's unwitting passenger, while I plummeted towards the street below.

In that fleeting moment, I contemplated the dire consequences of becoming a grease stain on the pavement.

The oversized porker veered right at East 42nd, homing back towards Fifth Avenue. As it soared above the rooftops, I glimpsed sporadic fires across the city. It seemed my friends were facing their struggles against Kronos's onslaught on multiple fronts.

But for now, I had my hands full.

The Hermes statue remained tethered, careening into buildings and spinning uncontrollably. As the pig darted over an office building, Hermes collided with a water tower atop the roof, sending a deluge of water and splintered wood in all directions.

Then, a realization struck me.

When I was near enough to discern the statue's features clearly, I bellowed, "Hello, Hermes! Command sequence: Daedalus Twenty-three. Eliminate Flying Pigs! Commence Activation!"

Instantly, the statue stirred. It appeared perplexed to find itself no longer atop Grand Central Terminal but instead suspended in the sky by a large winged sow. Colliding with the side of a brick building seemed to irk it somewhat. Shaking its head, it began ascending the rope.

Glancing down the street below, I noticed we were approaching the main public library, with its iconic marble lions adorning the steps.

A peculiar notion crossed my mind: Could stone statues also be automatons?

It seemed improbable, but...

We hurtled towards the library's front steps.

"Lions! Command sequence: Daedalus Twenty-three. Eliminate Flying Pigs! Commence Activation!" I shouted.

The marble lions regarded me, perhaps thinking I was jesting.

But then, right on cue:

"SQUEEEEAL!"

The colossal pink pork monstrosity crashed onto the sidewalk with a resounding thud, fracturing the pavement. I leaped off its back, diving and rolling away from the pig, stumbling backward as I regained my footing.

The lions, seizing the opportunity, leapt into action.

Meanwhile, a battered Hermes statue leapt onto the pig's head, mercilessly pounding it with a caduceus. Those lions certainly had some vicious claws.

The pig dissolved right before my eyes. I almost felt a pang of sympathy for it. I hoped it found its ideal boar companion down in Tartarus.

As the monster vanished into dust, the lions and Hermes statue glanced around, evidently puzzled.

"You can safeguard Manhattan now," I informed them, but they appeared oblivious, charging down Park Avenue. 

It seemed they would continue their hunt for flying pigs until someone intervened.

The sounds of conflict were drawing nearer.

My comrades needed assistance.

I shadow travelled towards the cacophony of explosions.