A Son From Lands Unknown (PJO x Male Reader)

Battle at Half-Blood Hill

Percy, Annabeth, and Tyson exited the Gray Sister's cab, left at the base of Half-Blood Hill. As soon as they were out, the Gray Sisters peeled out, heading back to New York, where life was safer. They didn't even wait for the extra three-drachma payment. They just left the three on the side of the road. Annabeth with nothing but her backpack and knife, Tyson and Percy still in their burned-up tie-dye gym clothes.

"Oh, man," said Annabeth, looking at the battle raging on the hill. What worried Percy the most wasn't the bulls themselves, nor was it the ten heroes in full battle armor who were getting their bronze-covered butts whooped. What worried Percy was the fact that the bulls were raging all over the hill, even around the far side of Thalia's pine tree. In his mind, that shouldn't be possible. But the metal bulls were doing it anyway.

"Border patrol," a gruff, feminine voice shouted, "to me!"

'Border patrol?' Percy thought to himself. 'The camp doesn't have a border patrol.'

"It's Clarisse," Annabeth said. "Come on, we have to help her."

Normally, rushing to Clarisse's aid would not have been high on Percy's to-do list. She was one of the biggest bullies at camp. The first time they'd met, she'd tried to introduce his head to a toilet. She was also the daughter of Ares, a god whom Percy had a very serious disagreement with, so now the god of war and all his kids hated Percy.

Still, she was in trouble. Some people on border patrol were routing, running in panic as the bulls charged. Gunshots rang out occasionally, meaning that either (Y/N) was there somewhere, or the monsters had gotten a serious upgrade. The fact that there was the sound of bullets pinging against metal with no cries of pain caused Percy to think it was the former. The grass was burning in huge swathes around the pine tree. One hero screamed and waved his arms as he ran in circles, the horse-hair plume on his helmet blazing like a fiery Mohawk. Clarisse's own armor was charred. She was fighting with a broken spear shaft, the other end embedded uselessly in the metal joint of one bull's shoulder.

Percy uncapped his ballpoint pen. It shimmered, growing longer and heavier until he held Riptide in his hands. "Tyson, stay here," he told the larger boy. "I don't want you taking any more chances."

"No!" Annabeth said. "We need him."

Percy stared at her. "He's mortal. He got lucky with the dodgeballs, but he can't-"

"Percy, do you know what those are up there? The Colchis Bulls, made by Hephaestus himself. We can't fight them without Medea's Sunscreen SPF 50,000. We'll get burned to a crisp."

"Medea's what?"

Annabeth rummaged through her backpack and cursed. "I had a jar of tropical coconut scent sitting on my nightstand at home. Why didn't I bring it?"

"Look, I don't know what you're talking about, but I'm not going to let Tyson get fried."

"Percy-"

"Tyson, stay back," Percy insisted, raising Riptide. "I'm-"

"Tyson, get down!" Annabeth yelled, body-checking the larger boy. While it wasn't enough to knock him down, it was enough to move him to the side, just far enough to avoid the bullet that streaked through the air where Tyson's head had just resided. Annabeth stood in front of Tyson, her arms in an X shape.

"Damn," (Y/N) muttered to himself up in the sniper tower, pulling back the bolt of Tentazione. "Gonna have to apologize for the potential friendly fire." He turned his attention back to the bulls, looking for any kind of chink in the metal that he could get through. All of his previous shots just ricocheted, risking hitting a member of the border patrol. He could see Clarisse in the front, trying to get the other campers into phalanx formation. It was a good idea. Unfortunately, the shell they were going for requires nine people to be effective.