Son of Odin

Being Summoned

What if I say I'm not like the others?

Percy's powers were flaring once again, and this time he was hearing the things that he heard when he first became a God, when he was first introduced to these incredible magnitudes of power. All he could hear was a random mortal's music, and it was blaring through his head. Thankfully the music wasn't terrible. He focused for a second before it came to him, the Foo Fighters, whoever they were.

What if I say that I'm not just another one?

It wouldn't stop, and the worst part was that when Gods had headaches it either meant that there was a terrible stupid reason behind it, I.E. Percy not being able to hold himself above the mortal realm, or in Zeus' case, a brain child being born.

"What shall we do about the hunt? I must return to them soon either way." Artemis sighed. Percy thought about this for a moment.

"Well I-" Percy was cut shot, or rather his voice was cut short as he disappeared from sight.

"Percy?" Artemis looked around in confusion. Where did he go now?

'I'm fine, but... back on Earth. I think I'm heading towards the Greek camps. Can't be sure, Kronos has somehow gained my attention. I'll see you later.' He responded, his calming voice coming through straight into her head. She merely nodded, knowing that he'd understand.

"So... The hunters." Artemis told herself before deciding that nothing would be solved by sitting around thinking about it. She organized herself and flashed into the heated streets of her kingdom below. The child of Hephaestus would have loved it here, Valdez, that was the one. The heated streets was actually a stretch of the city in which only blacksmiths resided. They played their crafts from the first break of day well on into the night. They kept the people supplied with weaponry and armaments.

"Wayland? Are you here Wayland?" Artemis asked quickly as she strode through the huge building at the heart of the heated streets. A tall man with bulking muscles much like Hephaestus appeared out of a back room. Billowing steam followed him quickly. Wayland was the Norse God of the forges, he had co-operated with Hephaestus to create Artemis a suit of armour. The idea came from when Chaos had asked them to create one for Perseus, only this time Chaos wasn't involved.

Wayland nodded with a polite smile before turning back to something that wasn't very fitting for a Viking forgery. A mac sat on an old wooden desk in the corner. On it was some sort of design program.

He noticed Artemis giving it a weary eye and chuckled. "It does not sit there on a normal day milady. It is merely for when women come to get sized for armor. There is a scanner built into the top. The moment you enter, it gathers your measurements, and I create the armor. Hephaestus has already told me what needs to be done however and took the liberty of shaping the suit for me. I have incorporated the best of each of your cultures into it." He smiled before pulling on a rope that lifted high into the shadowed ceiling. A moment later a suit of impeccable silver armor slowly dropped down.

"That is incredible." She whispered, her breath caught at the beauty of the creation before her.

"Isn't it just? Unlike lord Perseus, yours will change according to what age you wish to appear as. In your Olympian form, it will grow to whatever size you wish. In your Asgardian form it will do the same. In your mortal form, it will attempt to accustom itself but it's limited to what it can do." Wayland told her with a slight jolt of sadness hidden within his voice.

The armour itself was much like her own, but she could immediately tell that it was lighter and tougher. Every inch of the silver was inscribed with a part of her aspects. The right shoulder and a strip along the ribs were adorned with pieces about her Greek aspect, the left was much the same except it was meant for Diana. The center piece was a greatly detailed piece about her rule over Asgard, and what was highly expected for her to become the Norse aspect.