A/N: I know I said I would take at least two weeks—maybe three—to write this chapter and it's barely been a week and a half, but here it is! Hope you'll enjoy it.
The bridge to Olympus was dissolving. They stepped out of the elevator onto the white marble walkway, and immediately cracks appeared at their feet.
"Jump!" Grover said, which was easy for him since he was part mountain goat.
He sprang to the next slab of stone while theirs tilted sickeningly.
"Gods, I hate heights!" Thalia yelled, grabbing Ethan's hand as they leaped with Percy.
Annabeth was in no shape for jumping.
Y/N gestured for her to climb on his back. "Hang on."
He jumped as the pavement fell, crumbling into dust. For a second he thought they were going to fall right toward New York. His feet dangled in the open air. Then he felt solid ground under his feet, and Ethan and Percy grabbed his T-shirt to make sure he didn't lose his balance.
"Um, thanks," Annabeth muttered, climbing down from his back.
"Don't mention it."
"Keep moving!" Grover said.
They sprinted across the sky bridge as more stones disintegrated and fell into oblivion. They made it to the edge of the mountain just as the final section collapsed.
Annabeth looked back at the elevator, which was now completely out of reach—a polished set of metal doors hanging in space, attached to nothing, six hundred stories above Manhattan.
"We're marooned," she said. "On our own."
"Blah-ha-ha!" Grover said. "The connection between Olympus and America is dissolving. If it fails—"
"The gods won't move on to another country this time," Thalia said. "This will be the end of Olympus. The final end."
They ran through streets. Mansions were burning. Statues had been hacked down. Trees in the parks were blasted to splinters. It looked like someone had attacked the city with a giant weedwhacker.
They followed the winding path toward the palace of the gods. Y/N didn't remember the road being so long. Maybe Kronos was making time go slower, or maybe it was just dread slowing him down. The whole mountaintop was in ruins—so many beautiful buildings and gardens gone.
A few minor gods and nature spirits had tried to stop Kronos. What remained of them was strewn about the road: shattered armor, ripped clothing, swords and spears broken in half.
Somewhere ahead of them, Kronos's voice roared: "Brick by brick! That was my promise. Tear it down BRICK BY BRICK!"
A white marble temple with a gold dome suddenly exploded. The dome shot up like the lid of a teapot and shattered into a billion pieces, raining rubble over the city.
"That was a shrine to Artemis," Thalia grumbled. "He'll pay for that."
They were running under the marble archway with the huge statues of the gods when the entire mountain groaned, rocking sideways like a boat in a storm.
"Look out!" Ethan yelped. The archway crumbled. Y/N looked up in time to see a twenty-ton scowling Ares topple over on them. He and Annabeth would've been flattened, but Thalia shoved them from behind and they landed out of danger.
"Thalia!" Grover cried.
When the dust cleared and the mountain stopped rocking, they found her still alive, but her legs were pinned under the statue.
They tried desperately to move it, but it would've taken several Cyclopes. When they tried to pull Thalia out from under it, she yelled in pain.
"I survive all those battles," she growled, "and I get defeated by a stupid chunk of rock!"
"It's Ares," Y/N said in outrage. "He's had it in for me since the first time we met. His statue would've killed me if you hadn't pushed us away."
Thalia grimaced. "Well, don't just stand there! I'll be fine. Go!"
They didn't want to leave her, but they could hear Kronos laughing as he approached the hall of the gods. More buildings exploded.
"We'll be back," Percy promised.
"I'm not going anywhere," Thalia groaned.
A fireball erupted on the side of the mountain, right near the gates of the palace.
"We've got to run," Y/N said.
"I don't suppose you mean away," Ethan muttered hopefully.
Y/N sprinted toward the palace, Annabeth right behind him.
"I was afraid of that," Ethan sighed, and clip-clopped after them with Percy and Grover.
The doors of the palace were big enough to steer a cruise ship through, but they'd been ripped off their hinges and smashed as if they weighed nothing. They had to climb over a huge pile of broken stone and twisted metal to get inside.
Kronos stood in the middle of the throne room, his arms wide, staring at the starry ceiling as if taking it all in. His laughter echoed even louder than it had from the pit of Tartarus.
"Finally!" he bellowed. "The Olympian Council—so proud and mighty. Which seat of power shall I destroy first?"
Ethan Nakamura stood to one side, trying to stay out of the way of his master's scythe. The hearth was almost dead, just a few coals glowing deep in the ashes. Hestia was nowhere to be seen. Neither was Rachel. Bessie swam in her water sphere in the far corner of the room, wisely not making a sound, but it wouldn't be long before Kronos noticed her.
Y/N, Annabeth, Ethan, Percy and Grover stepped forward into the torchlight. Nakamura saw them first.
"My Lord," he warned.
Kronos turned and smiled through Luke's face. Annabeth made a painful sound in the back of her throat, as if someone had just sucker-punched her.
"It's too late, fools," Kronos said. "Behold."
He pointed to the hearth, and the coals glowed. A sheet of white smoke poured from the fire, forming images like an Iris-message. Y/N saw Nico down on Fifth Avenue, fighting a hopeless battle, ringed in enemies. In the background Hades fought from his black chariot, summoning wave after wave of zombies out of the ground, but the forces of the Titan's army seemed just as endless. Meanwhile, Manhattan was being destroyed. Mortals, now fully awake, were running in terror. Cars swerved and crashed.
The scene shifted, and Y/N saw something even more terrifying.
A column of storm was approaching the Hudson River, moving rapidly over the Jersey Shore. Chariots circled it, locked in combat with the creature in the cloud.
The gods attacked. Lightning flashed. Arrows of gold and silver streaked into the cloud like rocket tracers and exploded. Slowly, the cloud ripped apart, and Y/N saw Typhon clearly for the first time.
He knew as long as he lived, he would never be able to get the image out of his mind. Typhon's head shifted constantly. Every moment he was a different monster, each more horrible than the last. Looking at his face would've driven anyone insane, so Y/N focused on his body, which wasn't much better. He was humanoid, but his skin reminded Y/N of a meatloaf sandwich that had been in someone's locker all year. He was mottled green, with blisters the size of buildings, and blackened patches from eons of being stuck under a volcano. His hands were human, but with talons like an eagle's. His legs were scaly and reptilian.
"The Olympians are giving their final effort." Kronos laughed. "How pathetic."
Zeus threw a thunderbolt from his chariot. The blast lit up the world. Y/N could feel the shock even here on Olympus, but when the dust cleared, Typhon was still standing. He staggered a bit, with a smoking crater on top of his misshapen head, but he roared in anger and kept advancing.
Next to Y/N, Annabeth gasped as if she'd suddenly had an idea. "Y/N, the blade!" She unsheathed her knife. "A hero's soul, cursed blade shall reap."
"What do you mean?" Y/N didn't understand why she was reminding him of that prophecy line right now. But before he could think about it, Kronos raised his scythe.
"Watch out!" Y/N yelled.
Kronos came like a whirlwind.
Y/N's instincts took over. He pushed Annabeth away, dodged and slashed and rolled. He felt like he was fighting a hundred swordsmen. Nakamura ducked to one side, trying to get behind him until Ethan intercepted him. Out of the corner of his eye, Y/N saw they started to fight, but he couldn't focus on how Ethan was doing. He was vaguely aware of Percy fighting Kronos by his side, of Annabeth helping Ethan, of Grover playing his reed pipes. The sound filled him with warmth and courage—thoughts of sunlight and a blue sky and a calm meadow, somewhere far away from the war.
Kronos backed him and Percy up against the throne of Hephaestus—a huge mechanical La-Z-Boy type thing covered with bronze and silver gears. The Titan slashed, and they narrowingly managed to jump straight up onto the seat. The throne whirred and hummed with secret mechanisms. Defense mode, it warned. Defense mode.
That couldn't be good.
"Jump!" Y/N yelled.
They jumped straight over Kronos's head as the throne shot tendrils of electricity in all directions. One hit Kronos in the face, arcing down his body and up his scythe.
"ARGH!" Kronos crumpled to his knees and dropped his scythe.
Annabeth saw her chance. She left Ethan dueling Nakamura and charged Kronos. "Luke, listen!"
Y/N wanted to shout at her, to tell her there was no hope in trying to reason with Kronos, but there was no time. Kronos flicked his hand. Annabeth flew backward, slamming into the throne of her mother and crumpling to the floor.
"Annabeth!" Y/N screamed.
Ethan turned around and hoofed Nakamura straight in the stomach, pushing him away. He moved toward Annabeth with Grover, whose music took on a more urgent tone. Grass grew on the floor of the throne room. Tiny roots crept up between the cracks of the marble stones.
Kronos rose to one knee. His hair smoldered. His face was covered with electrical burns. He reached for his scythe, but this time it didn't fly into his hands.
"Nakamura!" he groaned. "Time to prove yourself. Kill Jackson while I take care of L/N, and you will have rewards beyond measure."
Nakamura's eyes dropped to Percy's midsection, and Y/N was sure he knew. He might've noticed this point during the fights—it didn't matter much. All he had to do was tell Kronos. . . . There was no way Percy could defend himself forever. And if Y/N failed just a second to keep Kronos busy, he would kill Percy.
"I won't let you do it," Y/N grunted, turning to face Nakamura as Percy faced Kronos.
He raised his golden sword just as Nakamura raised his own. The blades almost touched.
"Each time we meet, you show me how much stupider you are than I thought," Y/N spat. "The end of the world. Is this the reward you want? Is that Nemesis's balance? Do you really want everything destroyed—the good with the bad? Everything?"
"There is no throne to Nemesis," Ethan muttered. "No throne to my mother."
"That's right!" Kronos said. "Strike them down! They deserve to suffer."
"If your mother truly is the goddess of balance," Y/N said, "you'll know that total destruction isn't balance. For something to be balanced, it needs to be built, to be created. Kronos doesn't build or create anything. He only destroys."
Then they both charged.
Their blades clashed in a shower of sparks. Nakamura tried to make Y/N lose his balance, but Y/N pushed him back and struck him—slashing his sword across Nakamura's breastplate so hard he cut a gash in the celestial bronze.
They circled each other, shoes grating on the floor, watching with eyes intent for the slightest opening.
Nakamura leaped, feinting with his right hand, but with his sword shifted in a blur to his left hand.
Y/N had an instant's hesitation and almost failed to evade the down-flash of the blade. He felt its tip scratch the base of his neck. He silenced the sudden pain and resumed his circle, crouched, cautious.
Again Nakamura leaped, stabbing.
Y/N feinted with slowness as though the wound near his neck had disoriented him. At the last instant he dodged to meet the down-flashing arm on his sword's point.
Nakamura cried in pain and ducked backward, examining the cut. When he raised his eyes to stare at Y/N again, hatred shone in them.
"You know, L/N, I think I could've turned against Kronos," he said. "Really. What you said about balance . . . you're not completely wrong. But now, I see that the problem isn't me. It's you. You can't forgive. You can't accept that your enemies are imperfect just as everybody is—just as you are!"
He closed the space between them, edging in, sword held high, anger showing itself in the squint of his eye and the set of his jaw. He feinted right and under, and they were pressed against each other, sword hands gripped, straining.
Y/N forced Nakamura to turn to the right. "You want forgiveness?" he muttered. "After you betrayed us in the Labyrinth? After the role you played in Beckendorf's death?"
"One day, you'll die because of this flaw of yours. . . ."
"YOU TRIED TO KILL ANNABETH!" Y/N roared. "I'll kill you!"
Y/N twisted his left hand free and punched Nakamura's jaw hard. Then, the wind pushing his sword faster than he could alone, he struck at Nakamura's torso, right where his breastplate was torn.
Nakamura fell back, grasping his stomach.
Grover's music kept playing, and grass grew around Nakamura's body. He stared at Y/N, his face tight with pain. Strangely, the anger had left his face.
"Deserve better," he gasped. "If they just . . . had thrones—"
The floor ruptured around Ethan Nakamura. The son of Nemesis fell through a fissure that went straight through the heart of the mountain—straight into open air.
Suddenly Percy landed next to Y/N; he'd been propelled by one of Kronos's blows.
"So much for him." The Titan lord hefted his scythe. "And now for the rest of you."
Y/N's only thought was to keep Kronos away from Annabeth.
Ethan was at her side now. He was feeding her ambrosia.
Everywhere Kronos stepped, the roots wrapped around his feet. But they weren't thick or strong enough to do much more than annoy the Titan.
Y/N and Percy fought him through the hearth, kicking up coals and sparks. Kronos slashed an armrest off the throne of Ares, which didn't bother Y/N, but then he backed them up to Hera's throne.
"Oh, yes," Kronos said. "This one will make fine kindling for my new hearth!"
Then, in the image still hovering over the hearth fire, Y/N saw Typhon stepping into the Hudson River. He barely sank to midcalf.
No, Y/N thought, almost falling to his knees. Please, don't let him. . . .
Kronos hadn't noticed a thing. But just as he raised his scythe, a miracle occurred—a conch horn sounded from the smoky picture. The call of the ocean. The call of Poseidon.
Kronos whirled around in horror.
All around Typhon, the Hudson River erupted, churning with forty-foot waves. Out of the water burst a new chariot—this one pulled by massive hippocampi, who swam in air as easily as in water. Poseidon, glowing with a blue aura of power, rode a defiant circle around the giant's legs. As he swung his trident, the river responded, making a funnel cloud around the monster.
"No!" Kronos bellowed after a moment of stunned silence. "NO!"
"NOW, MY BRETHREN!" Poseidon's voice was so loud Y/N wasn't sure if he was hearing it from the smoke image or from all the way across town. "STRIKE FOR OLYMPUS!"
Warriors burst out of the river, riding the waves on huge sharks and dragons and sea horses. It was a legion of Cyclopes, and leading them into battle was . . .
"Tyson!" Percy yelled.
He'd magically grown in size. He had to be thirty feet tall, as big as any of his older cousins, and for the first time he was wearing full battle armor. Riding behind him was Briares, the Hundred-Handed One.
All the Cyclopes held huge lengths of black iron chains—big enough to anchor a battleship—with grappling hooks at the ends. They swung them like lassos and began to ensnare Typhon, throwing lines around the creature's legs and arms, using the tide to keep circling, slowly tangling him. Typhon shook and roared and yanked at the chains, pulling some of the Cyclopes off their mounts; but there were too many chains. The sheer weight of the Cyclopes battalion began to weigh Typhon down. Poseidon threw his trident and impaled the monster in the throat. Golden blood, immortal ichor, spewed from the wound, making a waterfall taller than a skyscraper. The trident flew back to Poseidon's hand.
The other gods struck with renewed force. Ares rode in and stabbed Typhon in the nose. Artemis shot the monster in the eye with a dozen silver arrows. Apollo shot a blazing volley of arrows and set the monster's loincloth on fire. And Zeus kept pounding the giant with lightning, until finally, slowly, the water rose, wrapping Typhon like a cocoon, and he began to sink under the weight of the chains. Typhon bellowed in agony, thrashing with such force that waves sloshed the Jersey shore, soaking five-story buildings and splashing over the George Washington Bridge—but down he went as Poseidon opened a special tunnel for him at the bottom of the river—an endless waterslide that would take him straight to Tartarus. The giant's head went under in a seething whirlpool, and he was gone.
"BAH!" Kronos screamed. He slashed his sword through the smoke, tearing the image to shreds.
"They're on their way," Percy said. "You've lost."
"I haven't even started."
The Titan lord advanced with blinding speed. Percy tried to stop him, but Kronos tossed him aside like a rag doll.
Y/N sidestepped and jabbed under Kronos's guard. It was a good trick. Unfortunately, Kronos knew it. He countered the strike and disarmed Y/N using one of the first moves Luke had ever taught him. The golden sword skittered across the ground and fell straight into the open fissure. Y/N fell to the ground.
"STOP!" Annabeth came from nowhere.
Kronos whirled to face her and slashed with his scythe, but somehow Annabeth caught the strike on her dagger hilt. It was a move only the quickest and most skilled knife fighter could've managed. Where did she find the strength, Y/N had no idea, but she stepped in closer for leverage, crossing blades with Kronos, and for a moment she stood face-to-face with the Titan lord, holding him at a standstill.
"Luke," she said, gritting her teeth, "I understand now. You have to trust me."
Kronos roared in outrage. "Luke Castellan is dead! His body will burn away as I assume my true form!"
Y/N tried to move, but his body was frozen again. How could Annabeth, battered and half dead with exhaustion, have the strength to fight a Titan like Kronos?
Kronos pushed against her, trying to dislodge his blade, but she held him in check, her arms trembling as he forced his sword down toward her neck.
"Your mother," Annabeth grunted. "She saw your fate."
"Service to Kronos!" the Titan roared. "This is my fate."
"No!" Annabeth insisted. Her eyes were tearing up, full of sadness and pain. "That's not the end, Luke. The prophecy: she saw what you would do. It applies to you!"
"I will crush you, child!" Kronos bellowed.
"You won't," Annabeth said. "You promised. You're holding Kronos back even now."
"LIES!" Kronos pushed again, and this time Annabeth lost her balance. With his free hand, Kronos struck her face, and she slid backward.
Y/N summoned all his will. He managed to rise, but it was like holding the weight of the sky again.
Kronos loomed over Annabeth, his scythe raised high.
Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth. She croaked, "Family, Luke. You promised."
Y/N took a painful step forward. Before he could get anywhere close to Annabeth, Kronos staggered.
He stared at the knife in Annabeth's hand, the blood on her face. "Promise."
Then he gasped as if he couldn't get air. "Annabeth. . . ." But it wasn't the Titan's voice. It was Luke's. He stumbled forward as if he couldn't control his own body. "You're bleeding. . . ."
"My knife." Annabeth tried to raise her dagger, but it clattered out of her hand. Her arm was bent at an odd angle. She looked at Y/N, imploring, "Y/N, please. . . ."
He could move again.
He surged forward and scooped up her knife. He knocked the scythe out of Luke's hand, and it spun into the hearth. Luke hardly paid him any attention. He stepped toward Annabeth, but Y/N put himself between him and her.
"Don't touch her," he said.
Anger rippled across his face. Kronos's voice growled: "L/N. . . ." His whole body seemed to be glowing, turning gold.
He gasped again. Luke's voice: "He's changing. Help. He's . . . he's almost ready. He won't need my body anymore. Please—"
"NO!" Kronos bellowed. He looked around for his scythe, but it was in the hearth, glowing among the coals.
He stumbled toward it. Y/N tried to stop him, but Kronos pushed him out of the way with such force he landed next to Annabeth and cracked his head on the base of Athena's throne.
"The knife, Y/N," Annabeth muttered. Her breath was shallow. "Hero . . . cursed blade . . ."
When Y/N's vision came back into focus, he saw Kronos grasping his scythe. Then he bellowed in pain and dropped it. His hands were smoking and seared. The hearth had grown red-hot, as if the scythe wasn't compatible with it. Y/N saw an image of Hestia flickering in the ashes, frowning at Kronos with disapproval.
Luke turned and collapsed, clutching his ruined hands. "Please, Y/N. . . ."
Y/N struggled to his feet. He moved toward Luke with the knife. He had to kill Luke. That was the plan.
Luke seemed to know what he was thinking. He moistened his lips. "You can't . . . can't do it yourself. He'll break my control. He'll defend himself. Only my hand. I know where. I can . . . can keep him controlled."
He was definitely glowing now, his skin starting to smoke.
"Tell me where to strike," Y/N said.
"You . . . can't," Luke insisted. "You must . . . trust me."
"Because you think I'm going to trust you, now?" Y/N said angrily. "If you really want Kronos to be destroyed, then tell me where's your weak spot!"
"Y/N, there's no time!" Percy said. "If Kronos evolves into his true form, there will be no stopping him."
He was right. Once Kronos would've gained back all his powers, he would make Typhon look like a playground bully.
Y/N glanced at Annabeth. He knew what she wanted to tell him, but didn't she understand that he couldn't do such a thing? Giving Luke the knife would be like going back three years ago, into the woods where Luke had almost killed Percy. It would be like letting him win two years ago on the Princess Andromeda. Like forgiving him for all the dangers he'd put Annabeth through. How can you trust the one you hate most in the world?
Percy snatched the choice from him; he grabbed the knife, and gave it to Luke.
Y/N almost screamed in terror. "Percy, what did you do? Are you insane?"
"Probably," Percy said.
Y/N watched as Luke grasped the hilt.
They stood before him—defenseless.
He unlatched the side straps of his armor, exposing a small bit of his skin just under his left arm, a place that would be very hard to hit. With difficulty, he stabbed himself.
It wasn't a deep cut, but Luke howled. His eyes glowed like lava. The throne room shook, throwing Y/N off his feet. An aura of energy surrounded Luke, growing brighter and brighter. Y/N shut his eyes and felt a force like a nuclear explosion blister his skin and crack his lips.
It was silent for a long time.
When he opened his eyes, he saw Luke sprawled at the hearth. On the floor around him was a blackened circle of ash. Kronos's scythe had liquefied into molten metal and was trickling into the coals of the hearth, which now glowed like a blacksmith's furnace.
Luke's left side was bloody. His eyes were open—blue eyes, the way they used to be. His breath was a deep rattle.
"Good . . . blade," he croaked.
He gazed at Annabeth. "You knew. I almost killed you, but you knew. . . ."
"Shhh." Her voice trembled. You were a hero at the end, Luke. You'll go to Elysium."
He shook his head weakly. "Think . . . rebirth. Try for three times. Isles of the Blest."
Annabeth sniffled. "You always pushed yourself too hard."
He held up his charred hand.
"Did you . . ." Luke coughed and his lips glistened red. "Did you love me?"
Annabeth wiped her tears away. "There was a time I thought . . . well, I thought. . . ." She looked at Y/N. He was doing the same thing. The world was collapsing, Kronos was defeated, and they might all fall into a new fissure any second now; but he didn't care about that. He could still see her, and it seemed to him this was a miracle.
"You were like a brother to me, Luke," she said softly. "But I didn't love you."
He nodded, as if he'd expected it. He winced in pain.
"We can get ambrosia," Grover said. "We can—"
"Grover," Luke gulped. "You're the bravest satyr I ever knew. But no. There's no healing. . . ." Another cough.
He gripped Percy's sleeve. "Nakamura. Me. All the unclaimed. Don't let it. . . . Don't let it happen again."
His eyes were angry, but pleading too.
"I won't," Percy said. "I promise."
Luke nodded, and his hand went slack.
The gods arrived a few minutes later in their full war regalia, thundering into the throne room and expecting a battle.
What they found were Y/N, Annabeth, Ethan, Percy and Grover standing over the body of a broken half-blood, in the dim light of the hearth.
"Percy," Poseidon called, awe in his voice. "What . . . what is this?"
"We need a shroud," Percy announced, his voice cracking. "A shroud for the son of Hermes."
A/N: I think this chapter speaks for itself.