ωμέγα (Omega)

Chapter Γ

He had given up. No fighting, no hope. There was just pain. Pain and fear. He would do anything to stop the pain, anything but one thing. The one thing Tartarus wants him to do: Betray his friends, betray his Wise Girl.

He'd just have to ask Tartarus to switch Annabeth's and his place and he would be off of the rack for one or two days, but he couldn't, he wouldn't.
He wouldn't betray his fatal flaw.

He was weak. Physically, that is. He laid on the cold floor, drenched in his own blood and too weak to even lift his head. He shook from pain and fear, waiting for the Pit to come and torture him again. There was no preventing it.

He should have died long ago, his injuries too lethal to survive, but Tartarus wouldn't let him, not yet. He kept him alive, the fragile body of a broken boy. His lips were split from dehydration and he could see his rips through the torn shirt. When was the last time he had eaten something? Two month ago? Three? He should have died from hunger a long time ago and sometimes he he wished he had, but then he would think of the beautiful girl who was with him in this hell hole and he'd continue fighting.
She had to go through torture too, physically and mentally, but she didn't give up, so he wouldn't either.

Tartarus had scarred him, but there were people worth living for. When was the the last time he had seen his mother? When had he had time to go on a date with Annabeth? He would do all those things again, but he first had to survive this torment and torture.

Percy wasn't sure if he would ever be the same again. He would have PTSD, that's for sure, his nightmares would haunt him and he would be scared of being alone, alone in the darkness. Every sound would be Tartarus entering his cell and he would flinch away from every touch, but he would recover after some time, he was sure of it.

His physical state was something completely different. He would be scarred forever, his scars as a reminder of his torture. He wouldn't be able to fight like before either, his hands had been broken way too often, and the scars that would remain from his time on the cross would always be visible for him.

That'd been the worst thing he had been through since he came here, the humiliation and pain in the arena and the two days after that.
Monsters had come every hour to torture him, laughing at his pain. He wouldn't be able to take a shower or change without seeing the words carved deep into his skin. He wouldn't be able to live like before again. He would be scarred, but he would heal after some time, he was sure of it.

Luke POV:

The pain was almost unbearable, but I had felt worse. I had died after all, and I wanted to never feel that pain again. I wasn't quite sure if I was alive or not, but since I wasn't at Charon's ferry, I guessed I had survived the fall. Stupid giant. First, he is interrupting Percy's and my discussion, then- wait, where was Percy?

I forced my eyes to open and groaned in pain. Everything hurt. I tried to lift my head, but a wave of nausea hit me and I almost vomited right then and there. I laid down for a few more moments and tried to catch my breath. After I was sure I could move without almost blacking out, I slowly rose to my knees.

It hurt, but I couldn't just lay around, doing nothing. As I looked down, I saw something sticking out of my body. I almost puked again. I had seen broken bones before, but actually never my own and a broken rip sticking out of my body was no great place to start.

I carefully leaned against a wall and searched my pockets for Ambrosia. I found nothing and sighed. Of course they would take it away. My two swords weren't there either and my other hidden weapons were all taken from me, too. I looked around and noticed the chains around my legs. I let my head drop in my hands. Fuck.