Olivia Anworth liked to know everything. She knows nothing about Percy Jackson.
Percy Jackson seemed to know nothing. He has no problem getting to know about Olivia Anworth.
Annabeth Chase thought she knew everything. Alice Rosario changed that.
Ali...
She was standing at a hillside. It felt a little like the way she pictured the Underworld. Hearing a voice behind her, she whirled around to see Olivia struggling to her feet, seemingly in pain. There was a thick fog around her, the dark sky making it worse. But Alice could see through it if she squinted hard enough.
"Olivia!" she called. When Olivia didn't reply, she realized she was almost like a ghost, watching the actions play out while unable to speak on them.
She followed the dark-haired girl's gaze to the top of the hillside. The fog was thinner, the stars shining brilliantly.
Silently, she followed Olivia around the foggy hillside, feeling stressed as she watched her best friend struggle the entire way up. Somehow, Olivia managed to haul herself up the hillside, struggling her way to the top. Her breath caught in her throat when she hit the ground, slumping with relief.
Alice tried calling out to her again as she caught her breath, but there was still no reply. While Olivia caught her breath, Alice looked around. All around her were old broken Greek columns made of a terrifying black marble, littered through the entire place.
Something was wrong. Why was Olivia here? Was this Luke's doing?
"What are you waiting for, you psycho?" Olivia called out, her voice tired as she limped her way to the crest of the hill. "I'm right here!"
"O," came a strained voice.
Alice matched Olivia's scowl as they both turned to Luke, but Olivia's expression of rage morphed into surprise at what she saw.
He was slumped over so much, he was nearly bent in half, arms above his head like he was pushing a heavy weight away from him. Sweat drenched his face, scratches littering his face and body. He was kneeling, attempting to stand again, but being pressed down by the dark void above him. His clothes were a mess of rags, torn and ratty. His skin seemed grayish now, sandy blond hair streaked with the dull color. Above him was the apex of the terrible fog, swirling around and taking the shape of a funnel on his back.
"Oh, my gods," Olivia breathed out, backing away quickly. She fell on her ass, having tripped over a rouge piece of black marble. "Luke, what happened?"
"Liv!" he shouted her name desperately, like she was his only hope. "Livvy, you've gotta help me!"
"No!" Alice called, even if it was futile. "Don't!"
