The Forgotten Warrior (A PJO/DC Crossover)

Chapter 1

"Your sentence has been decided! You are banished from this World, this Realm. Never to return again!"

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"Ugh, what happened?" Percy opened his eyes and grimaced in pain, his everything hurt and he had no idea why. Actually, he couldn't remember anything, just that his name was Percy Jackson, and he was extremely pissed. Who at? Well, he didn't know yet, he just knew he was beyond angry and someone was going to pay.

He slowly sat up and looked around, taking in his surroundings. He was in a dark warehouse, the moon outside dimly illuminating the interior giving it a ghastly, eerie glow. He leaned his back against the wall, wincing and grabbing his sides. It was then he realized that, probably, and he was just spit balling here, the reason he was in pain maybe had something to do with the fact that his arms were covered in blood, bruises and scars, and from the feeling of his ribs, they felt fractured. How he knew that they were fractured, he didn't know. Something had told him that he fractured them before though...

CRASH!

Percy flinched at the sound and his hand instinctively reached into his pocket and grabbed a ball point pen. He looked at it for a moment and laughed. "The heck am I supposed to do with this thing? Sign my death warrant?" He chuckled to himself, but even that hurt so he calmed himself, or at least he tried. Just as he was calming down he started to hear gun shots and yelling. Lots of yelling. "I'm dead." He looked at the pen again and shrugged. Maybe he should write a message, incase he knew anybody that cared that he was going to die. For some reason, he felt that he had been in life and death scenarios before, that or he was just straight mental.

He was sitting a few feet away from a cardboard box, so he scooted nearer to write his name and, well actually he couldn't think of anything else to write, considering he couldn't remember anything. "Guess my name will have to do," he muttered, as he rested his bloody arm on top of the box. He was losing a lot of blood, so he figured he better hurry. Maybe he could crawl away and hide, or escape and find a doctor. Both seemed unlikely, but at this point he just kind of went with it.

He sighed, knowing he was closer to losing conciseness, so he uncapped his pen to write his name, but what he didn't expect was for his pen to transform into a sword. "Woah, what in the-?" Dropping the pen/sword, he looked around before slowly picking it up again. He gave it a few waves around and for some odd reason, the sword seemed like it was made specifically for him. Perfectly balanced, three inches from the tip of the sword so that movements were quick and fluid.

"Okay, screw writing my name, I got to get out of here." Bracing himself against the wall, he started to use it as leverage to stand up. After almost falling a couple times, Percy managed to get to both feet, one arm on the wall, the other holding his sword.

"Just follow the wall Percy, you'll eventually find a door, right?" He slowly made his way in the dark, until he came across a hallway. The screams were getting louder and Percy was moving slower. "Gods Dammit!"

Gritting his teeth, he continued down the hallway, the lights dim and flickering. It looked as if a the warehouse was connected to an office building. As he was trekking down the hallway he came across a framed letter on the wall and stopped to read it.

"Wait a godsdammed second, what country am I even in?" He could tell the writing on the wall was some sort of Asian writing, based off the sticks and windows for words, but he knew for one thing he couldn't read that.

"Schist, lost with no memory, and in Asia? I'm so screwed."

He let loose a string of curses as he continued onwards, fighting to stay awake and trying to come up with ideas on how to escape this very shitty situation. So far though, zilch. He came across a T in the hallway and looked both ways. So far, he hadn't come across anyone, and he was hoping that his luck wouldn't run out. So he took a right.