✺ BACK INTO BREATH ✺
Percy had always been curious about death. What it would feel like, how it would happen, where he would go.
He figures that now is the time he'll finally get to learn.
Staring into the face of the Titan Lord, helpless and frozen in time, Percy can do nothing but feel.
He feels his lungs constrict as Kronos squeezes him like a fly, two gigantic fingers pressing against his ribs until he nearly hears them creak in exhaustion.
He feels his heartbeat quicken, terror and desperation pulsing through his veins with such ferocity that his head goes light.
And he feels pain, so much terrible and brutal and immeasurable pain, as his ribs splinter in the Titan's grip.
His eyes flood, and he can't move, he can't fight, he can't even speak as the tears roll down his cheeks.
Kronos speaks lowly, his words echoing yet gentle, thunderous while still a whisper: "You're getting in my way, son of Poseidon."
Grover's eyes go wide at the sight of his best friend, and he kneels by Clarisse, searching her sword belt for a weapon.
Percy's breaths quicken as the air around him drops in temperature. He wants to scream when his tears solidify, frost creeping up their trails on his cheeks before the pools at his lower lids freeze over. Ice encases his eyes, coating his lashes and edging out towards his nose and temples. The cold shoots through his skull, and he tries desperately to melt the ice—yet his power remains too far out of reach, the horror that surges through him suppressing all his command, and Kronos grins.
The Titan turns his head at the feeling of something bouncing off of his leg. Grover trembles under Kronos' gaze, but he holds firm, throwing another dagger with a determined yell. The weapon makes no injury, falling harmlessly to the ground, but Kronos shifts his attention away from the satyr's best friend.
Percy can barely breathe as Kronos drops him, his body hitting the ground with the force of an anvil. His eyes remain frozen open, and the moment Kronos fully turns to Grover, he feels his control return. Gasping, he takes hold of his power, the ice in his eyes melting and cascading down his skin like the tears they are. He struggles to stand, wiping his cheeks as pain shoots through his torso.
Grover watches, too terrified to think properly, as Kronos takes a step his way. Paralyzed, his mind races, unsure of what to do or where to go to avoid the giant before him. Luckily, he doesn't have to, as Kronos pauses upon looking just behind Grover.
"Ah," he starts, his booming voice too magnificent for such a simple word.
Grover doesn't need to turn to know who the Titan sees. He clenches his fists, but his legs remain put while nearly knocking together. Kronos moves closer.
While dodging the Manticore, Annabeth nearly falls under Kronos' giant footstep, barely moving out of the way. Grover's eyes widen as he meets her helpless gaze, her senses acting just in time to warn her of the stinger moving towards her shoulder. Again, she dodges, her knives practically useless.
She meets his eyes again, nodding her head to the jumbo-sized golden paper clip near his hooves.
Kronos grins, sadistic and proud. "She's dead," he says, barely paying any mind to Tyson, who runs around (Y/N)'s body to face the Titan, blocking her. "Excellent."
Percy grunts, the vibration in his chest rattling his broken ribs and creating knife-slices in his sternum. Straining to gather the water from the sand, he creates a thick lasso to yank Kronos away from his friends. However, he lacks the strength to pull, and the water slashes against the Titan's side and front before it falls to the ground.
Percy's breaths are heavy as he stumbles back, Kronos again looking at him. The Titan finally seems to notice the bodies behind the half-blood, his supposed army of demigods all fallen to one boy.
A broken, exhausted, furious boy.
Percy pulls the water in to himself, allowing it to pass through his shirt and wrap around his torso. Blue light gleams from his eyes as some of his strength returns, his ribs snapping back into place.
While his pain subsides, his energy begins to build again, determination flickering on his face when he looks at the Titan. He draws Riptide from his pocket, the sword forming as Kronos nears.
He no longer has a cursed blade. But he has a weapon, all the same.
That's good enough for him.
Percy runs forward, ducking under Kronos' outstretched arm and stabbing Riptide into the elbow groove between his plates of armor-like skin. Tightening the grip on his hilt, he swings upward off the ground, flipping onto Kronos' forearm and running up to his shoulder. The Titan tries to swat at him like a fly, but Percy leaps onto his opposite hand, watching his sword approach as Kronos again tries to knock him away. The moment it gets close enough, Percy wrenches Riptide out of Kronos' elbow, once more switching the arm he stands on as he takes a running leap towards the Titan's head.
Kronos stumbles slightly as Percy jams Riptide into his eye. Fighting for time, the boy guides himself back to the ground using the Titan's limbs, barely watching as Kronos removes the sword with ease and throws it out of reach. Water again rises to Percy's command, attacking Kronos relentlessly.
The Titan combats the barrage as fire generates in his palm, and he sends it forward to meet the water. Steam erupts around Percy, choking him, and he falls back, coughing. He squints through the white fog, his vision completely obscured.
A patch of air grows cold at his side, and he ducks to avoid Kronos' arm.
What he couldn't know was that the Titan had intentionally aimed low.
Percy's lungs empty upon contact, his body exiting the mass of steam as Kronos pushes him away with so much force that he soars like a ragdoll—the air lashes his skin before his head hits the stone wall, and he tumbles to the ground. A whimper of pain escapes him; his vision floods with light. Daggers shoot through his brain, searing his skull as blood runs down his neck. He pushes himself back up, dizzy beyond belief.
His knees buckle from under him, and he falls, a fog of black creeping around the edges of his vision. His stomach churns as the world spins, sand digging into his palms as he fights to stay upright. The urge to vomit worsens as the ground under him ripples with vibrations from Kronos' steps, the agony and disconnect in his body too strong for him to exercise his abilities anymore.
Kronos again plucks the half-blood from the ground, watching with glee as he squeezes his eyes shut in discomfort.
Percy would have mentally prayed for help, had it not been agonizing to think. So he doesn't.
It would have added on too much pain.
Especially when the scream he emits blinds him further, burns his nerves, as Kronos snaps his legs.
— x —
Annabeth freezes as Percy's voice echoes through the cave, her eyes filling with fearful tears. Her breaths quickening, she looks around her, mind racing frantically as she tries to figure out how to help.
But she's so tired.
Her thoughts lag, muscles weak and loose. She forgets her situation for just a moment.
And that moment is just enough.
The Manticore attacks, its stinger poised to strike Annabeth's stomach.
Seemingly just in time, she moves out of the way, her feet dragging on the ground.
A figure in her periphery nears, grabbing the Manticore's outstretched tail and pulling the creature away. Tyson stays careful to avoid the stinger, holding tight to the Manticore as Grover scoops Annabeth's paper clip off of the ground, flipping it quickly so the spear forms in his hand. With a grunt of exertion, Tyson swings the monster in the satyr's direction, the spearpoint lodging itself deep into the Manticore's eye.
It tenses before going still, and Tyson pants while the monster's body explodes into golden dust. Grover gives him a satisfied nod before looking at Annabeth.
The daughter of Athena sighs with relief, her adrenaline fading, just before a shock of pain rushes through her forearm. She gasps at the sensation, twisting her arm to look at it properly.
"No," Grover breathes once he sees the wound that trails from her wrist to her elbow. Annabeth's forearm is drenched in red, the area around the large gash pricking with numbness.
Before their eyes, thick streaks of black poison blend into crimson blood.
Annabeth's mind is fogging, stomach twisting, muscles burning.
She groans, her arm explodes with agony, her head goes light.
Her world shifts to darkness as she faints.
— x —
(Y/N) keeps her focus on Hecate, anxiety rushing through her as the eldest gods circling them join hands. The sorceress' eyes remain a gleaming red, her hair fluttering despite the lack of a breeze.
The familiar stark nose, brown skin, and tight coils are illuminated in the ruby light.
Then hair of black silk, high cheekbones, and thin lips.
Thirdly, a spattering of freckles, a softened jawline, and flaming orange waves.
The three faces of Hecate, each entirely individual yet complementary, seem to look right through (Y/N)'s being, viewing every function and desire of her soul. They morph, one after another, while still on one body—quickly, nearly blurring as the red of her eyes grows brighter, Hecate's single figure splits into its triad. Goddess of the crossroads, her bodies stand back-to-back, the known and darker-skinned figure continuing to face (Y/N) with goblet and dagger in hand.
"(Y/N) Elpis (Y/L/N)," Hecate begins, the words echoed by her two other forms, "do you choose this return to life honestly, to aid and assure, to preserve and protect?"
(Y/N) nods, only wishing that she could still see how her friends fare against Kronos. "Yes," she says, waiting for Hecate to resume speaking. She doesn't, and (Y/N) glances around to furrow her eyebrows at Hades. He shrugs, rolling his eyes.
(Y/N) sighs at the need for formality. "I do."
Hecate's triple-voice continues: "Do you choose this return to life freely, of willingness and assurance, without temptation or restraint?"
"I do."
"Do you choose this return to life wholly, accepting of the power and the purpose, understanding of the strength and the sacrifice?"
(Y/N) braces herself. "I do."
Hecate's irises shift to white, the light nearly blinding the girl with its force. "I epilogí échei gínei [The choice has been made]," the voices chime, and (Y/N) nearly stumbles off-balance when Hecate's magic radiates through her with more magnitude. "Aftós eínai o trópos [This is the way]."
Hecate's two side-positioned figures each turn their heads to look directly behind her. "Hestia," they say, gesturing in unison to the girl's soul. "Hearth and Home. Come."
Hestia breaks the circle, walking forward and standing by the sorceress. She smiles at (Y/N), fond and kind. Hecate's primary form holds out the dagger, clasping the goblet with both hands once Hestia takes the weapon. (Y/N) looks between the blade and the cup, confusion roiling within her.
"As you saved Cara," Hestia begins, her amber eyes slightly glossed, "I hope to save you. I give my blood to you freely because you have earned this gift. Your sacrifices—past and present, physical and mental—are not forgotten. I offer my power in gratitude for what you have done for all those like you."
(Y/N) gasps as Hestia pulls the dagger across her palm, holding the wound over the goblet and allowing her ichor to stream inside.
"What?" she asks, her voice strained. "No. I don't want that; I don't want your power. There has to be another option, right? I know there's another option!"
The goddess merely smiles, and she wipes the golden blood off the blade onto her palm. "Aftós eínai o trópos," she says, placing the dagger flat atop the goblet.
"This is the way," her siblings chorus, and Hestia steps back into the circle.
Hecate's eyes turn to the next goddess. "Demeter. Earth and Agriculture. Come."
(Y/N) shakes her head as Demeter takes her place next to Hecate, also offering a smile. She takes the dagger, and the girl whimpers a helpless, "No."
"While not of your preference," the goddess says, her expression a gentle image of pride, "these events have tested your skill and ability. You've done beautifully thus far. If this is how you are to continue, then I gladly volunteer myself. Aftós eínai o trópos."
Demeter slices her palm, her ichor mixing with her sister's.
(Y/N) wants to take the goblet and dump it out. This wasn't what she had agreed to.
Hecate seems to realize this, and she shakes her head, her other two bodies mirroring the action. "The choice has been made," they repeat, the words gentle and soothing.
"This is the way," the eldest gods speak, and (Y/N) closes her eyes in defeat, a hopeless child's soul amidst the powers of the universe.
"Hera. Family and Heaven. Come."
The queen of Olympus does not smile, but her expression contains reverence, all the same. "You have spirit; this, I know. My gifts may not aid much in this fight, but I hope that what you do receive is enough." Another clean slice of metal into flesh. Another stream of gold. "Aftós eínai o trópos."
"This is the way."
(Y/N) struggles to refrain from commenting on how cultish it sounds.
"Poseidon. Sea and Storm. Come."
She remains apprehensive as the god of the seas approaches. He takes the dagger, holding it for a moment in contemplation, before he sighs.
"I do apologize, you know," he says, his voice drowning in sincerity, "for the misunderstanding before. I didn't trust you at first. I was wrong in assuming what I did." He exhales deeply, jaw clenching briefly before it relaxes, and he gives (Y/N) a sad smile. "But you've kept my sons safe thus far. I thank you for that. I blessed you once before, and it seems to have protected you already. I choose to strengthen that gift now." Ichor coats his tanned skin as he pours his share into the goblet. "Aftós eínai o trópos."
"This is the way."
(Y/N) slowly fills with panic.
She isn't sure how, but her intuition tells her that something terrible is happening.
What if her friends were in trouble?
What if this didn't work?
"Zeus. Thunder and Lightning. Come."
Zeus begrudges to speak. "I don't see why the little messages are necessary, but all right. While I do not appreciate your prior disrespect . . . you have, indeed, proven yourself already to be a strong warrior. Even without abilities like ours. You are more than worthy to wield this power. I ask"—he meets her gaze pointedly—"that you use it well, for the people that you love. Aftós eínai o trópos."
"This is the way."
King of Olympus, and his blood runs exactly the same.
Hecate's secondary and tertiary heads look to the last god in the circle. "Hades," they echo, and the king stands straighter. "Shadow and Prosperity. Come."
Hades doesn't move, his eyes gone cold. "No."
His siblings' heads whip to him, and Hecate's blinding eyes grow even brighter, her postures stiffening at the prospect of ending the ritual in such a manner.
Poseidon's muscles tighten. "Explain yourself, brother," he seethes.
Demeter's brow furrows, and she glances at (Y/N) in confusion. The girl's soul betrays nothing, barely irritation or confusion.
Hades chuckles darkly. "You all finally need me to save your stupid kingdom, and I'm saying that I won't. What's to explain?"
Poseidon moves to lunge at his brother, but Hecate fixates all eyes on him. "Do not break the circle!" she hisses, and Poseidon clenches his jaw in restraint.
Zeus looks at Hades beside him, frustration swirling behind his eyes. "You aren't willing to save her? The girl you fought so hard to defend?" he asks, and Hades shrugs.
"Not unless you give me my rightful seat at the table." He looks around the circle, his expression easing into playfulness for the barest millisecond as he passes over (Y/N) and fading immediately after. "You banished me to my realm without thought of events such as these. Conflicts that could affect us all, and I get no say in my fate unless I am summoned? No. No, I no longer wish to be at your beck and call, assisting you when only you see fit. Return me my place in Olympus, and I return (Y/N) her life."
The girl has to fight a grin at the anger that passes over Zeus' face.
"You are completely out of line, Hades," Zeus seethes, earning a smirk.
"Then . . . she stays dead. Kronos takes power. Olympus burns to the ground." Hades lifts a brow at his brother, who fills with annoyance. "You are bringing that doom upon yourself, now."
Zeus grinds his teeth, his deep breath of restraint sharp and quick. Regardless of his frustration, he sighs. "Do you swear not to usurp the throne?"
Hades smirks. "Brother, I already have one. No need to get insecure."
Demeter suppresses her scoff of amusement.
The king of Olympus nods. "Your banishment is hereby ended," he grumbles, looking away from his smug brother and clearly wishing he could let go of his hand.
Grinning, Hades nods in acknowledgement. "My most sincere thanks, darling Zeus."
The tension around the circle eases, and Hecate's faces turn to Hades once more. "Hades. Shadow and Prosperity. Come."
He approaches, carefully taking the dagger from atop the goblet. "You know," he starts, looking back at Zeus and wagging the blade in his direction, "I was going to do this anyway, but now that you've agreed, there are no take-backs." He chuckles at the flush that colors his brother's cheeks, turning to his stepdaughter's soul. His smug expression softens in genuine care, and despite her occasional frustration with him, she warms under his smile.
"Child, you've grown so much." The words are gentle, reminiscent. Loving. "I know that we've had our rocky patches, but I could not be prouder of you. I hope that you keep fighting for what you believe, (Y/N). And this power, that was once taken by necessity, I now give freely." He cuts his hand, the final addition of divine blood to the goblet. "Aftós eínai o trópos."
For the last time, the five other gods echo, "This is the way."
Hades wipes his ichor off of the dagger, handing it back to Hecate. It vanishes upon contact with her skin, and the god of the Underworld returns to the circle, clasping hands with Zeus and Hestia.
The children of Kronos bow their heads, eyes closed.
Hecate's primary form steps closer to (Y/N), her hand covering the mouth of the goblet. Only one of her mouths speaks this time, her head lowered to meet the girl's gaze. "And, ever should you need it, I give you my blessing." (Y/N)'s eyes soften at her unprompted generosity. "When the time is right, may you find security and comfort in this gift. May the night obey and strengthen you, and the crossroads bend in your favor. This is your right. We are your way."
Hecate reaches into a pouch at her side, withdrawing a single flower—white-petaled and dark-rooted, its contact with the goddess' skin appears to magnify her power. Her magic bursts outward from her, its force nearly strong enough to break the divine circle. (Y/N) looks around, noticing how barely any of the gods are fazed by the presence of such an amplifier.
Hades, however, lifts his eyes, his face filling with awe. His mouth opens as if to speak, but he thinks again. Glancing to Zeus beside him, he nods acceptingly at Hecate's accompanying forms, closing his eyes and lowering his head once more.
Hecate removes her hold on the goblet, allowing it to hover before her as wisps of shadow swirl around it. "(Y/N) Elpis (Y/L/N)," her voices begin, sharp and clear, "we ask that you carry our hope, abilities, and goal into fruition. Be our vessel and our salvation."
Smoothly, she slices the head of the flower off of its stem, tipping the stalk over the goblet. Clear sap drips into the ichor, and (Y/N) can almost feel the contents' increasing divinity as she does so.
"We strengthen your soul so that your body may bring peace. We offer our essence so that yours may find its power. Grace the fires and the waves, the day and the night, the earth and the skies in our combined purpose." Hecate dips her thumb into the enhanced ichor, stepping closer and pressing the golden substance to the pit of (Y/N)'s neck.
Her soul tingles upon the contact, warmth and energy trickling into her system from where her misty form remains solid.
"The choice has been made," Hecate says, her gaze of white light pulsing out from their three angles. The witch looks down into (Y/N)'s eyes, watching as they begin to illuminate and match her own. Under her thumb, veins of gold extend and elongate, traveling over and around the girl's soul. Hecate's eyes dim into their previous blood-red, her face bright in the presence of (Y/N)'s new, raw power. Smiling gently at the girl, she nods, her two other forms gradually melding back into her body. "The way has been offered. We ask you to step back into breath by your say."
With terror swirling inside of her along with added electricity, (Y/N) closes her eyes, tyring to relax.
The moment she surrenders to the ritual, a force pulls her away. The gods don't break the circle as her soul is carried up and through the shadowy dome; (Y/N) opens her eyes, catching a glimpse of the gods' amazed faces before her travel begins to pick up speed. As though yanked by an invisible rope, her airy form cuts easily through the air. Her surroundings blur, mere flashes of vibrance and light before the world loses it once more.
Returned to the throng of battle, (Y/N)'s sight jumps around everything she had left behind, bleak and colorless and mortal. She looks at the huge Titan, his palm open as a person lies inside. Percy appears dazed, blood coating his neck; his eyes are unfocused and bloodshot, his legs splayed at askew angles. Across the cave and near (Y/N)'s corpse, Grover kneels with tears spilling down his cheeks. Annabeth's head rests on his knees, her eyes closed—a wound on her arm drenches him in blood, but the satyr doesn't seem to mind while staunching it with his hands.
Nearby, Clarisse rests against a pole, her temple bleeding as she seems to flit in and out of consciousness, but she stretches her arm towards the unconscious daughter of Athena with concern. Sprinting towards Kronos' sarcophagus, Tyson's eyes fixate on the Golden Fleece, desperate as Grover yells for him to hurry.
The man-eating Laestrygonian approaches the satyr from behind, who whirls around in fear at the sound of its footsteps. He stands, Annabeth in his arms, before backing away to block Clarisse from the monster.
Practically running on air, (Y/N) rushes to her limp and bloodied body, her friends unaware of her presence as they inch closer to defeat.
She pauses, staring at the gory wound in her chest. Simply by looking at it, thinking about it, her empty form seems to awaken, itching in desperation to stitch her physical body together. A type of hunger rushes through her, the ability to heal making up part of her very being, yet unable to be exercised.
What an odd sensation. A press of ichor to her throat and then an immense energy that surges through her. The desires quicken, aching to be used, manipulated, tested—and yet, nothing happens. Nothing can happen.
The feeling is somewhat comforting, this swirling pulse of energy in her breast. She almost doesn't want to return, doesn't want it to leave.
But then he screams.
In her periphery, Kronos throws Percy to the ground, his shattered legs folding and twisting under him.
And there it was, his agony laid bare for all to hear. Bouncing along cave walls and rib cages, echoing endlessly before leaving a void of silence.
If she had a skull in this state, it would have been rattling beyond belief. Her heart would be pounding on the brink of explosion. Blood would rush in her ears, fire would spark at her fingertips.
Blistering with rage and determination, she steps back into her body, leaving behind the black-and-white falseness of the surrounding world in a free-fall.
And all she feels is pain.
———
as always, thank you for your patience!!
we hit 100k on Fall. we're about to get 300k on Rise. I genuinely cannot describe how amazing this feels and how incredibly grateful I am for all of you.
truly, each of you holds such a special place in my heart and I don't think I can fully explain how important you all are to me. thank you so, so much.
unfortunately, I'm not sure if I'll be able to update much in the coming weeks; I've got so much work going on that I need to adjust to, but I promise I'm still writing when I can! in the meantime I've given memes for you :)
while I'm not posting the next part until 9 is completed, chapter 8 is finished and I'm going to apologize in advance. you're all going to hate me so much. no spoilers, though.
anyway, thx sm for all your support! hopefully you enjoyed this chapter!
much love <3