XLV
Reader's discretion is advised for this chapter, will be rated M for graphic depiction of violence.
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"How're you doing, bud?" Percy was leaning and resting against a saddle that was on a paddock for the pegasus that the Greeks raised and trained for war. The young yearling was resting contentedly, its long face slung lazily over the shoulder of the son of Poseidon. Percy absently stroked it his own eyes closed as he relaxed. "Yeah, I thought so." The pegasus hadn't actually said anything but its manner told Percy all he needed to know.
He was currently the only half-blood in the world that could communicate with the equines and that held dominion over them through his father. So it wasn't that surprising that when he started coming over, the pegasi were more than happy to hang out with him while he waited for Blackjack to show up.
It got him thinking. Maybe he could teach horsemanship? No one would trust him as a swordsmanship instructor but horsemanship wasn't such a bad idea even with his rather lackluster teaching skills. It was relaxing and he didn't mind at all caring for the pegasi. He mentally shrugged. A question for another time but he doubted it would ever be anything more.
His thoughts drifted over to his old friend, which was a pleasant coincidence as a shadow washed across him and the yearling, causing both to stir.
The yearling scampered off when he heard his mom call for him. Percy paid them no mind as Blackjack came in for a landing. To anyone else, it would've sounded like a bunch of the pegasi just got startled. To Percy, he heard in his head most of the curses and profanities hurled at Blackjack for kicking up and throwing clods of dirt and getting their coats and wings dirty. Pegasi were a vain bunch of creatures and that amused him to no end.
Still, Percy pushed himself up from his reclined position, smirking at the absolute apathy that Blackjack had for the complaints. Blackjack sauntered up, almost prancing and digging more mud to the displeasure of the other pegasi. "Hey, boss!" Percy heard the voice in his mind.
"You have anywhere you want to go today?"
"Chicago has some killer deep dish! Been wanting to try it for ages!" A nicker of excitement.
They had been going on outings for the past week. Nothing strenuous or life-threatening, simply riding around throughout the Eastern Seaboard, Quebec and Ontario spending the time to catch up and, oddly enough, be on what was effectively a food tour.
I guess we're going to Chicago. At a relaxed pace, Blackjack could cover the Eastern Seaboard in a day, if that. An hour or two if the pegasus really pushed himself. Chicago would probably be considered a warm-up to the pegasus.
Percy hefted the saddle made especially for pegasi and fitted for Blackjack, their experience making the ordeal a lot more bearable than it was the first time they put the damn thing on. The hide of a pegasus was thick and tough, but still uncomfortable both for the horse and the rider without a saddle. Percy and Blackjack learned that the hard way years ago when they were both young and dumb. The saddle was simple and didn't have much in the way of adornment or flair, midnight black as the hair of Blackjack with just a hint of gold trim, with stitched tridents on either side of it.
Simple and badass in Percy's opinion. Blackjack liked it too. It gave his otherwise monotonal image a splash of color even if it was just a couple veins of gold.
Big as he was, mounting Blackjack was second nature to Percy, like riding a bicycle. Though this bicycle was a pegasus that weighed something north of a ton, a kick that could knock a cyclops cold and able to trample through a horde of monsters as if they were bowling pins. Adding to the fact that they could fly and be armored as well? It wasn't a joke to say that a charge of pegasi could break a disciplined line of monsters on sight alone.
The pegasus was still as much as a free spirit and philanderer as he remembered him to be. He had significantly grown to his full size since the last time they had seen each other as well. Blackjack stood taller than even him, clocking in over seven feet and a wingspan to match, long enough to even put Jane's impressive wings to shame.
"You ready, bud?" Percy asked as he pat the flank of Blackjack.
He whinnied. "Are you kidding me, boss? I'm always ready!" The pegasus reared backwards before cantering to the end of the paddock and then launching into a gallop and leaping into the air.
Percy held tightly to the horn and reins of the saddle, before relaxing as they began to level in the air. He was sure that vertigo only existed to spite him.
Blackjack flew at a leisurely pace, even as Percy's scarred hand twitched involuntarily, the pegasus kept his pace. The spasm had happened often enough on their forays across the country for Blackjack to discern what was intentional or not.
Blackjack did most of the talking, understanding that Percy's life was no vacation even after the war, and the black pegasus had hinted rather heavily that word had spread that he had an impromptu stay in the Abyss. It wasn't news to him that it did but he was grateful that the normally obtuse Blackjack never pushed the subject.
It was comforting being around the frank horse again. For all his faults, Blackjack called it as he saw it and when the going got rough, Percy was sure his friend would be by his side if he called on him. Not that he would subject the pegasus to a fight if he could help it.
Snapping from his thoughts, he felt a heavy wind buffet the both of them, almost tossing Percy from the saddle. The son of Poseidon looked around wildly, searching for whatever caused it, calling on his armor and sword in an instant. The wind continued to cascade about them and Percy pulled a hand upwards to cease it. Blackjack whinnied loudly in discomfort, a fair amount of choice words being shouted as the pegasus adjusted his flight path.
What the hell was that? It was clear skies for as far as he could see, and being up in the air meant he could see pretty far. No sign of any rogue nature spirits and Percy doubted this was an attack by Zeus. Possible but unlikely. His uncle may want to kill him but he wasn't going to do it without justifiable cause.
Plus, he doubted Zeus would kill him simply because of how useful he was.
Percy's eyes continued to dart around as Blackjack circled before stabilizing and flying in place.
He sensed a gust of rogue wind, and Percy raised his hand, to stop it.
"Uh…boss. This isn't you, right?" Blackjack whinnied in nervousness and dug at the air as if treading water only…well in air.
"No." Was his confused and nervous answer as his eyes scanned the area. Clouds began to form around them, eerie, thick and grey but not the heavy, dark, and foreboding ones he was used to.
The wind…it was stressed. It was hurting as it was pushed unnaturally. Something or someone was forcing it to do this. It didn't make sense, even as Percy willed the winds to calm.
The wind began churning suddenly. "Blackjack, get us out of here!" Percy could control the storm but it was probably for the best that they didn't risk staying in a rogue one.
The pegasus didn't need to be told twice and immediately shot off like a rocket, Percy did his best to calm the storm and winds. It wasn't a matter of having control because he did, but it was persistent. Whenever he calmed them or willed them away, they returned with renewed vigor.
Instead, he let the winds go, fighting a tug of war with it was a cause in vain when it would simply be better to just find the source of it. He could only just protect them with his passive control. Thick and heavy clouds began forming without his interventions, churning and spiraling in an odd mockery of a maelstrom. "Circle round!" Percy barked, tugging lightly on the reins.
"I hope you know what you're doing, boss!"
A rogue storm it may be, but he was the son of the Stormbringer and held an instinctual sense when it concerned them. Percy could still sense anything and everything in the winds.
Percy could sense ice in the thick clouds whatever moisture was in them crystalizing near instantaneously. His mind quickly came to a conclusion. The winds were spiraling downwards. He decided that it was better to simply destroy the source rather than play whack-a-mole with a storm that wouldn't affect them anyway.
"Into the eye!" Blackjack's powerful flaps launched them forward while Percy raised his hand, forming a protective shell of wind that would protect them.
That was when he felt it. That drain of color and sound that haunted him. The distinct and heavy smell of ozone permeating sent him back to the barren desert in Nevada. Percy didn't even say anything and instead pulled harshly on the reins. Blackjack reared up and a bolt of lightning flashed in an instant and in that instant, the winds and clouds seemed to slacken and Percy waved them the remnants of the storm away just as fast. He noted a large plane descending faster now that the storm had been dispersed but not entirely as now dark, foreboding ones took their place. Ones that were not his. Percy willed his armor away at the sight, no sense in drawing too much attention to himself when he could just masquerade as a SHIELD agent again.
It worked in Florida and at the SHIELD headquarters, no sense in not using a tried and true method of staying hidden in plain sight.
He urged Blackjack forward, diving to the point of contact which looked to be at the top of a parking garage. "Fly low between the banister and treeline then get out of here!"
Percy could readily tell that the strike was weaker than the one he had experienced. Magnitudes weaker. For one, that instance of monotone and nothing was brief and instantaneous compared to his own experience. The second, a truck and two teenagers were still there and the parking garage was still intact without a massive crater in it, though a large chunk of the vehicle's bed was missing. He put that out of his mind though.
The King of Olympus probably knew that he wouldn't need to push the Bolt's capability outright against mortals. Baby steps. Percy guessed, knowing that there was a time when his uncle would scoff at the idea of restraint.
One of the mortal boys had looked to have been thrown from the truck if his position on the asphalt was any indication, spasming as he was. The other was unconscious against the cabin but didn't look as injured as the other.
Percy smoothly dismounted and leapt from the saddle to grasp onto the concrete wall, easily pulling himself up and over. Percy recognized those SHIELD logos on the fuselage and wings of the plane as it was landing. Blackjack galloped away, speeding into the air and with a couple of powerful flaps of his wings, he became a speck in the sky in less than a second.
Vanity be damned, pegasi can back it up in spades.
Percy ran forwards towards the spasming teenager, he was halfway to him as the plane landed, ignoring the mortals within as they rushed out. Three women, two men. None but the oriental woman appeared to be armed but they were all certainly surprised to see him there. Though one of them was someone he readily recognized, though he was older. A few more stress lines and his hair wasn't as full as when he had originally met him.
But now there was an odd…air about Coulson. He couldn't quite place it. A serene whisper scratched at his mind when he looked at him but he disregarded it in favor of the situation at hand.
They went straight for the spasming teenager. "Check the other one!" He pointed as he still rushed forward. Two of them immediately did as they were told, although the man turned on his heel and ran back into the plane, another followed after them after a moment's hesitation.
Percy kneeled and kept his hand above the teen, unsure of where to start. The kid was hit by the Master Bolt after all. His clothes were singed and still flickering with errant embers. What flesh was exposed, was hard and charcoal black. How the hell did one heal a mortal that was hit by the Master Bolt even if it was only at a fraction of a fraction of its true power?
He immediately came to the answer. You can't. But he had to try, as vain of a hope as it was, No mortal deserved to be subjected to the Master Bolt.
Coulson and the remaining woman moved towards the spasming teen and were about to start helping, only to stop as Percy shouted. "Don't touch him!" He hovered a hand over the convulsing teen, pulling the energy of the bolt out.
"Motherfu-!" Percy bit his tongue as he whipped and shook his hand. It instantly numbed, several tiny lances of electricity darting from his fingers and striking the pavement with enough power that it dug up and pierced the asphalt wherever it struck. That hurt. Even his fingertips were slightly singed from the ordeal. The kid immediately stilled, his eyes bloodshot and purple.
He lowered his head against the mouth of the kid in an attempt to feel for his breath.
There was none. Thunder boomed threateningly overhead. Percy chanced a glance upwards. Those dark clouds from before appearing just a bit more menacing.
"He's dead," Percy said simply as he stood, quickly moving to the other, who had been set to lie prone on the asphalt. The two stilled in shock before pulling themselves together just as quickly and moving to help. The son of Poseidon guessed that the bolt didn't hit him.
Percy moved, the one that looked to be the youngest of their number moving and stumbling aside out of his way, leaning close as the other man came running to their side, a medical kit in his hand. "He's still breathing," Percy said as he pinched at the teenager, hissing in pain as a lance of energy bolted into it and then subsequently flicked over his shoulder.
The woman spoke with a distinctly English accent. Her eyes focused as she did a medical rundown. "Eyes dilated. Most likely a concussion. Electrical burns along the hands. Can you hear me, Donnie?" Percy stood, tuning her out and looked around. There were no immortals around, that much was sure. If it was, he'd have his hands full already. So what exactly caused this?
He saw a metal thing sparking on the ground, its frame rent, melted and black, not completely reduced to slag but well on its way. He tilted his head and noted that it looked like a supped-up industrial snow cone machine.
Percy determined that touching what was most likely Zeus' target was probably not a great idea.
Instead, the son of Poseidon picked up an errant piece of debris, a large torn branch that had been ripped away by the wind and hesitantly, tossed it onto the device while backing away quickly.
Instantly, the device seemed to explode even more. Lances of lightning shot from it, carving deep gouges into the asphalt around. What little steel was left unblemished had scorched and the cone at the top had melted and collapsed in on itself.
Now, it was little more than slag.
He turned on his heel to see more new faces. An African American woman directing other SHIELD agents to set a perimeter, and another SHIELD agent joined Coulson and his group. Coulson and those that were with him quickly got out of their way as they took care of the deceased body and the unconscious teen. The group looked on in sorrow as the dead teen was moved away.
Coulson moved to approach him, warily as did his team.
Percy already anticipating a form of ID being needed. He quickly fished for the SHIELD badge and displayed it to Coulson. He'd much rather deal with him rather than the others, if for no other reason than because he was familiar with him, even if he had wiped his mind and their familiarity could only be counted in the minutes.
Coulson's reaction was immediate relaxation. The tenseness left his body but he still looked concerned as he outstretched his hand to shake. "Agent Phil Coulson, also Level 8. Nice to meet you."
"Percy Jackson. Likewise." Percy shook the man's hand, not missing the way two of Coulson's team, doing a double take and looking at him in apparent surprise before attempting and failing to school their feature as they struggled to look disinterested in him.
"Excuse me, I need to speak with Agent Weaver," Coulson said. "Feel free to get acquainted while we all wait for debrief. May, introduce our team."
The one that appeared to be the youngest of their number seemed distracted and her eyes were red as if she had been crying.
The suit that joined them was watching him closely as if studying and appraising him.
The asian woman was staring at him with narrowed eyes as if she didn't trust him. Percy shrugged, not caring since it wasn't his problem.
"From left to right, Consultant Skye, Agents Simmons, Fitz and Ward. I'm May." She said sharply as she eyed him up and down as if she was also determining what his deal was. Skye waved awkwardly at him from her hip, while Fitz and Simmons awkwardly saluted and waved excitedly respectively. Ward just nodded. "What're you doing here? As far as I'm aware we're the only team assigned to this operation."
"Jackson." He also introduced himself. "Was in the area, figured I could lend a hand."
"You're enhanced." May's prodding statement. "I saw the lightning you pulled from Dormer."
"You could say that." Percy retorted in a noncommittal tone. "That storm was not natural and guessed I should intervene just in case."
"Thank you for the assist." May nodded slowly.
He shrugged. "I still need to know what exactly happened here. If someone could tell me," He pointed to slag of metal. "what that is, that'd be great."
The ones known as Fitz and Simmons stepped forward, neither willing to meet his gaze. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly. There was something…that didn't sit right with these two. Simmons began as soon as she stepped forward. "To make it incredibly simple, the device dramatically amplifies the rate and range at which moisture crystallizes. The device—when turned on—seeded the atmosphere and created, well the superstorm."
Percy swallowed thickly, containing his anger and worry. He understood why Zeus had intervened so directly now. That mortal…thing messed with his realm. That could spell disaster if the mortals got it in their heads that they could start trying to manipulate the weather. This little thing got the attention of the King of the Gods right at the onset, Percy internally shuddered to think of the measures that would be taken should SHIELD attempt to mass-produce it. What if a rogue immortal was behind this? For all their pride, deities were not above using mortal and unwitting agents in their plans. "The device. Can it be made again?"
Coulson walked up as the one named Fitz spoke, scratching the back of his head, in a thick Scottish accent. "As you can tell, they had a working prototype. The processes they used were developed by her." He tossed a thumb to Simmons. "The delivery device is based on concept designs I made years ago. They couldn't figure out how to power it and manipulated us into coming so that I could finish the design."
"That doesn't answer my question."
Coulson spoke up this time. "I'll make sure the plans and designs are sealed. Coming from two Level 8s, it won't be an issue. What's left of the prototype will be sent to the Fridge under lockdown."
Percy's expression hardened. "That still doesn't answer my question, so I'll be more clear. If someone tried to copy it, could it be made again?"
A silence as Fitz and Simmons shared a glance. "It took the best and brightest to draw up the plans and build them but they needed me to finish it," Fitz said looking at the ground. "So long as the designs are out of reach, the odds of it being built again are zero."
Percy nodded. "Have someone gather all these blueprints, notes whatever and burn them. We'll be destroying them instead of tucking them away." Both Fitz and Simmons nodded and began to go away, with Simmons speaking again. "Skye and Ward, want to tag along?" The two others were hesitant but at Coulson's nod, they left too.
"Thanks for the assist. We'll have the remains of the device slated for the Slingshot." Coulson said after a moment, his head cocking to his side for a moment. "Do I know you? You seem familiar."
Percy resisted the urge to smirk. "I get that a lot, seems like I just have one of those faces." He frowned though and he spoke in a low voice. "I need to speak with the survivor."
"You're in luck. I was just speaking with Agent Weaver. Donnie woke up on his way to Medical." Coulson said as he began moving, May following the two of them. "You can tag along with us. May."
"I'm not your chauffeur, Coulson." The woman grumbled but quickly commandeered the SHIELD jeep that they were heading to.
Percy swung himself into the back seat while Coulson took the passenger side.
"So when did you join SHIELD?" Coulson questioned.
"About twenty years ago. Give or take a couple years."
"Quite some time ago, right around the time I joined up actually." Coulson remarked with a raised brow. "You seem a little young for being around that long."
"Time flew by for me. The years just sort of blurred together and here I was." Percy commented, smirking only a little at his own inside knowledge.
"Same here…" Coulson trailed off. It wasn't long until they arrived at their destination where they were quickly ushered to where this Donnie was being kept.
He didn't look too terribly beaten up or injured. Minus the burns and damage on his hands that were already bandaged up, he seemed, for the most part, alright. He was even sitting up, his legs dangling off the bed. May stood in the doorway her hands clasped in front of her and looking at the teen with narrowed eyes while Percy leaned on a nearby counter with his arms crossed. Coulson stood at the foot of the bed, closest to him.
"Mr. Donnie Gill. I'm Agent Phil Coulson, and with me are Agents Melinda May and Percy Jackson. We're here to ask you a couple of questions."
"Where's Seth?" Was Donnie's immediate question.
Percy noted the small grimace from Coulson and the frown on May's face. So Percy was the one that bit the bullet. "The other kid is dead. If I had to guess, it was the moment you guys were hit by the bolt of lightning. You're lucky to be alive all things considered." From the small wince Coulson and the cringing expression from May, it was rather blunt.
Donnie had a more shocked expression and seemingly went catatonic, the color draining from his face. "He-he's dead?"
Percy only nodded. "What I need to know is if there was any particular reason you built this device?"
He didn't respond, just staring ahead.
"Mr. Gill." Coulson pressed.
The teen seemed to pull himself from his daze. "We…we built it because we were paid to."
"And who paid you?"
Coulson answered, a scowl forming on his face. "Ian Quinn." Seems like there's some history there.
"You know who that is?" Donnie turned to face Coulson.
"SHIELD has been keeping tabs on him for a while. " The older man said, in an off-hand manner. "And I had a little chat with him before coming here. Safe to say that he'll be wa-"
A shout was heard as well as an assured stomping of boots and Percy's hair stood on the back of his neck as he stood and faced the doorway.
May looked into the hallway with a narrowed look but surprise laced in her tone. "Coulson, it looks like we have some company."
Coulson turned to face her.
Percy's head cocked in confusion as he looked at the newcomers.
Foremost among them, was the demigod Son of Ares that had taken the post of the doorman to Olympus. An inglorious job but one that was among the most important. He didn't know his first name but he knew his last to be Daniels if he remembered correctly. A man with a well-built stature of dense muscle that was typical of children of Ares and other more war-inclined deities. He wore sunglasses and was dressed similarly to Percy's own civilian clothes, though instead of the dark blue jeans, his were a faded blue, whereas Percy's leather jacket was well-worn and was more of a faded black, his was pristine. His undershirt rather than navy blue was a deep red.
"Orders from on high." Daniels disregarded May and Coulson entirely as he delivered a folded piece of paper to Percy. "Mr. Donnie Gill is to be immediately handed over into my custody."
Percy immediately opened the paper. Having never seen one of these in his life there was a lot of legalese that he didn't bother to read but there was a SHIELD logo stamped on the bottom.
Now that he thought about it, it looked similar to the messages and orders he and Reyna had sent out during the Battle in Greece and the campaigns afterwards. In fact, if he switched out the SHIELD stamp, for one that signified Olympus, it would practically be the same at a glance.
"Pardon me, but I was under the impression that he was headed for the Sandbox." Coulson countered. It didn't look like Daniels had heard him as he simply looked at Percy, who continued to examine the paper in front of him. He studied the stamped logo and that was when he saw it. Etched in between the rings that circled the SHIELD eagle, was a tiny greek script.
By order of the King of the Olympus, the interfering mortal is to be immediately tried and sentenced to death. Apollyon, you will stand aside.
Percy looked up in surprise at Daniels, whose poker face remained unchanged and then to those who were accompanying him. These were armed similarly to SHIELD soldiers, in full tactical equipment, including body armor, masks that covered the lower half of their faces to obscure their identities and automatic rifles. There was one thing that set them apart though. On their shoulder, below the patches that showed the American flag and the SHIELD logo, was another. A simple red lambda over a black field.
This is a kill team. An execution squad. Percy realized. By order of Zeus no less.
Percy handed the paper over to Coulson who had immediately begun reading it. He quickly examined the team that Daniels assembled. Legacies by the looks of it. He couldn't sense any other demigods among them.
"Where are you taking him?" Coulson finally asked, handing the order back to Daniels.
"That doesn't concern you," Daniels said in a bland tone before turning to the worried and scared teen on the bed. His tone, while respectful, brooked no argument. "Mr. Gill, if you would be so kind as to step this way. You can walk, correct? If needed, we can arrange for a wheelchair."
"I-I can walk."
"Good. Right this way."
Percy decided to intervene but not so directly. Making a show here would do nothing but cause problems. Daniels couldn't hope to stop him unless Percy severely limited himself to only his sword and only then, it was still a coin flip on whether the son of Ares could best him. Odds that no one would be comfortable with unless they were forced to act on them.
"Don't worry, I'll be accompanying them," Percy announced and with a hard look towards Daniels who matched it.
Coulson glanced between the two of them. "I'm sensing a bit of history here."
Neither demigod responded to Coulson. Instead, Daniels spoke. "Very well." Daniels led the way, following two of the armed legacies, the teenager walked slowly behind the son of Ares while Percy was behind him. Behind Percy there were four other armed legacies.
It took longer than expected to reach the convoy of SUVs outside. Five of them, with black tinted windows. Including the six that were escorting them, there were ten others. All were kitted just as the other SHIELD soldiers were, and arrayed in a tight perimeter around the convoy with their weapons at the ready, all of them with that red lambda patch. Percy assumed them all to be legacies the way their gazes lingered a little longer on him. "Let's get moving!" Daniels twirled his finger in the air and they began to move after a moment's hesitation. "Jackson, you're riding with me. Put Mr. Gill in the fourth car."
"Sir." The escort took the teenager away as the two demigods moved to the second vehicle. Daniels sitting in the passenger's seat with Percy taking the one behind the driver, if only so he could keep an eye on the war god's son.
It didn't take long for them to get driving. The SUVs stuck close together, weaving through traffic with their flashing lights. He kept his gaze on the outside, having long turned dark and melding from the touch of the mortals into the more natural forests.
After that, they drove deeper into it. Their emergency lights turned off before they entered so as to not draw attention.
Neither of the demigods spoke to the other in the whole trip. Save for occasional status updates, the legacies didn't speak either, leaving the drive tense. Percy kept himself composed though.
They stopped and everyone immediately stepped out of their vehicles. Percy and Daniels donning their armor. Percy's forming from a watery mist, sans the helmet, and Daniels from tugging on a charm on his camp necklace. He looked like the classical Greek warrior, one that was not that different from Percy; though his armor was much simpler.
His was also a molded cuirass but lacked the designs and iconography that covered Percy's. Where Percy's helmet was gold with a hint of red, Daniels' was black with the skull of the helmet being gold, with a vertical crest of horse hair dyed in an alternating red and black pattern. Even the pteruges he wore were of simple brown, but rich, leather studded in bronze, at his side was a sheathed kopis. A basic set of armor all things considered but that was intended. Made it easier to clean when covered in the blood and gore that the children of Ares often found themselves in.
The more blood they spilled, the stronger they became. With the blood enchantments on their arms and armor, they became even deadlier.
Regardless, as the SHIELD soldiers set a perimeter, two others pulled and hefted the teen from the SUV, his hands cuffed and a black sack over his head. From the shaking in his body and the muted whimpering, he was terrified. One of the SHIELD soldiers handing Daniels a torch, and after a moment a fire was kindled on its end, Percy took it without a second thought as the son of Ares was handed off to Daniels. Demigods had a tendency to play it old school. Things like flashlights always seem to break at the worst times for them so they relied on tried methods.
Plus, fire had its uses.
His thoughts turned towards the teen and Percy resolved to do what he could for Gill. There were only a few times that he executed others or had given the order to do so. Surrendered or otherwise captured demigods that had continued to fight in the Earth Mother's name long after her defeat. Percy and many loyal demigods including the one beside him despised those traitors the most. Treason only carried one single yet absolute sentence. Death. It didn't matter what form it took, only in the end that the traitor died.
The other was on Asgard. The mass execution of the marauder and pirate prisoners was more clinical and practical rather than doling out justice or revenge for their actions. He didn't care much for them in that regard. Condemning them was just doing what needed to be done. Nothing more, nothing less.
Yet these deaths were all necessary in the end. Traitors would only ferment insurrection and cause nothing but trouble if they weren't pulled from the root. Resources were wasted on prisoners that didn't deserve to remain among the living.
But this? This was nothing more than politics. Displays of power and egos to be satisfied.
And one of the many things that Percy hated was politics.
He knew that, fundamentally, Zeus had every right and inclination to carry this out. Correct, to a point, that even Percy understood that this was the way of things. A mortal infringing on nature itself? Percy agreed with the King of Olympus that the mortal should be made an example of. The King of Olympus had to maintain his position, immortal or otherwise. He couldn't tolerate a single trespass on his realm. Percy, despite his position, was subject to that as well, he bore the scars to prove it, even if it was under different circumstances. His infamous paranoia may have dimmed but it did not and would not be snuffed out.
But correct did not mean it was right and Percy would be damned if he didn't at least try to find reason with the King of Olympus.
Gill was pushed forward by the son of Ares who guided him forward. "Wait here," Daniels grumbled to the SHIELD soldiers. "Move, kid. We don't have all day."
It was two or three dozen meters of walking did Percy finally speak though in ancient Greek. "You know this is wrong."
"Not my decision to make," Daniels responded in ancient Greek, his voice even and laced with disregard. "I'm just doing what I'm told."
After a few more minutes of silent trekking, the trio arrived at a small clearing. Healthy and vibrant green grass, in a perfect circle and perfectly trimmed and level. In the center was a smooth quarter stump, stained red.
It didn't take a genius to know what it was.
Thunder boomed overhead and lightning lanced across the sky. Daniels led Gill to the center and forced him to kneel and lower his head. His panicked crying grew a little louder but being gagged it was hardly noticeable over the drum of thunder. Percy, still holding the torch, and Daniels kneeled and bowed their heads in sync when a series of flashes heralded the arrival of immortals. Gill was situated in between the two demigods.
Percy looked to see the Council in its entirety standing arrayed before them. King Zeus stepped forward in his pinstripe suit, lightning crackling and arcing across his entire being, and where his steps fell, lightning struck the earth but eerily remained unblemished and unharmed. He stopped beyond the edge of the clearing. With a wave of his hand, orbs of firelight circled the field lighting up the area even more.
His eyes locked with his father's, whose features were uncharacteristically neutral. Percy's gaze flicked away.
Both Percy and Daniels stood, their heads coming up but not looking to the Olympians or other immortals there.
"What are you doing here, sea spawn?" Zeus intoned, thunder booming and lightning arcing with his every word. Percy took a deep breath and schooled himself.
"I've come to see to it that justice is delivered." He began, his mind burning. "This wasn't a challenge to you or your realm. This was simply a mortal delving into powers they know nothing of." Percy gestured to Donnie Gill, where he had since gone still in his kneeling position. "Allow this one free."
Zeus' eyes flared, lighting up as if they were orbs of electricity. "I do not answer to you. Christopher Daniels, you are to proceed immediately."
Daniels unsheathed his blade with ease as he maneuvered behind the statue still mortal, the silver adamantine glinting in the firelight, and swung.
A clang and a shear of metal as the kopis stopped in its swing.
The son of Poseidon intercepted the swing just before it was completed. Percy's gaze locked with Daniels', telling him to stand down, while Daniels' only indicated a mild indifference with a raised brow.
Thunder boomed overhead and Percy heard the melodious and serene whisper scratch in his mind.
"You dare?!" Zeus growled as he took a single step forward.
"I repeat what I said. This was not a challenge to you. To make an example of this mortal child achieves nothing. They cannot build the device again. Its plans were reduced to ash. Their device being nothing but slag." Percy said, his gaze returning to the King of Olympus, though keeping his blade locked with Daniels'. Neither fighting nor applying pressure, but resting instead. "We may ask him ourselves. He was not the mastermind behind this plot. I say that the real perpetrator be executed."
It took all of Percy's considerable will to not allow his surprise to appear on his face when the last goddess that ever spoke did so. "Is the boy truly innocent? Can you say in absolute certainty that he was merely a puppet?" Demeter's voice was of acid and accusatory as if the answer was a foregone conclusion.
"The boy said that he was paid to build it; a mortal named Ian Quinn was behind this."
"And if this boy were to be let loose, can you guarantee that he will not do this again?" Demeter pressed, her eyes narrowed and alit in a verdant green fury. "His morals are compromised with the promise of wealth! Who is to say that no other will tempt him so?"
Percy faltered and took a breath. "Allow me time. Allow me to capture this Ian Quinn and bring him before you so that the truth is settled." He settled. "Allow me to the Equinox. The life of Ian Quinn in exchange for the life of Donnie Gill. The guilty in trade for the innocent."
"Allow us to question the boy and Apollo will determine the truth of his words," Athena called out, her tone measured and her features expressionless.
Zeus growled once again. "Son of Ares, ungag the boy but do not remove the hood."
Daniels stabbed the kopis into the rich earth and Percy slowly let his own blade lower as the son of the War God, deftly forced the head of Gill downwards, a strip of cloth falling around the neck of Donnie Gill. Percy sheathed Thyella.
"Donnie Gill, you will speak the truth and nothing but the truth." Demeter sneered. "Spare not a single detail. Did you use the device you created, knowing full well of its capabilities?" The teenager was catatonic so he nodded multiple times stiffly. "I said to SPEAK!"
His voice cracked and stammered in fear. "I—I did! I knew what would happen! But not to that extent! I didn't know a superstorm would be made! Just a small one! I didn't even create it! I was using designs made by Fitz and the formula by Simmons! I just combined them!"
Percy bit his cheek.
Demeter looked to Apollo who frowned but nodded to Demeter who in turn looked to Zeus, as she spoke, returning to ancient greek. "With his guilt proven, I move for the immediate execution of Donald Gill, for his trespass against our realms of power as well as the immediate arrest of this Ian Quinn, Fitz and Simmons."
"I second." Percy shouldn't have been as surprised as he was when his father spoke. His gaze was unflinching as it met his son's.
"All those in favor?"
Most hands went up barring a few.
"All those opposed?" None save for Hestia raised her hand.
"All those who abstain?" Hestia and Hera raised their hands.
"It is decided." Zeus intoned. "Chr-"
"No," Percy spoke, momentarily reverting to English before switching back. It was a stacked trial if he ever saw one but then again, trials in the Immortal world were like that. They weren't there to determine guilt. Only to cement it. "I won't defend the boy any longer but allow this Fitz and Simmons to go free. They truly have nothing to do with this. In fact, they will have since destroyed all traces of this device on my order."
Silence but the thunder and lightning in the eyes of Zeus was absolute. "Very well, I will allow you this. Bring me the head of this Ian Quinn by the Equinox and they will be spared. If you fail, they will die alongside him."
Percy bowed, stiffly and turned, swallowing thickly as he looked at the kneeling and weeping teen. Athena spoke as Percy began to walk away. "Have the sea spawn carry out this sentence, have him show us that he will not attempt to sequester them away."
Percy stopped in his tracks, his back still towards the Council and the clearing.
"You cannot be serious!" Hera shouted, speaking for the first time since she arrived.
"I am very serious." Athena deadpanned. "Time and time again, you and many in your pocket have spouted his virtues and rose in his defense. If he is unwilling to execute a mortal that so clearly has overstepped their bounds, then who is to say that he may be willing to do so should it happen in his duty to protect their world? He speaks and cautions others but he has yet to act on it. Have him show us that he will take action should the need arise."
Hera and Poseidon glowered and rose to their full heights, in rage at her words. Zeus raised his hand, stopping any confrontation. "Lady Athena speaks honestly. The Mist obscures. However, should another trespass occur it must be dealt with swiftly and without our intervention."
"A vote!" Hestia called out.
"No," Zeus responded evenly. "Perseus will execute this mortal and kill Ian Quinn. If he fails, this Fitz and Simmons will also die by his hand. If he wishes to protect the mortal world, let him begin now."
Percy swallowed as he turned on his heel back towards where Daniels had pressed a boot to Gill's back causing him to tilt forward, his neck resting against the stained stump. The mortal was sobbing. Percy would give him a quick death. The son of Poseidon would not let his position and that of his patron falter in the face of this task. To do so, would cast doubt.
That doubt would only lead to unnecessary death.
What was one life compared to the rest? At least, so long as he carried this out, he would save others that didn't deserve it. Did Donnie Gill deserve this? He didn't know…he didn't think so…he was ignorant. If he knew what would happen, would he have done it still?
They would never know. He wouldn't ever know if Donnie Gill's life truly deserved this fate.
But he knew other things for the facts that they were. This Ian Quinn did deserve this. Fitz and Simmons didn't.
One that did. Two that didn't and another that would haunt him.
He blinked.
And he blinked again.
Daniels' offered his kopis to Percy who looked at the blade before glancing towards the staring Olympians and then in a single, fell motion, unsheathed Thyella, and swung.
Donnie Gill's sobbing ceased abruptly as red blood spattered across the blade and Percy
That melodious and serene whisper clawed at him and he felt an ice prick at his bones, while his free hand began spasming.
Percy spared no look or bow to the Olympians as he turned on his heel and left without a word, evaporating into a mist.
Percy appeared in Fury's office, luckily the guy was there. Unluckily there was another with him.
Agent Kate Lockhart if he remembered wearing a tight, form-fitting uniform, had drawn her sidearm and aimed it at him.
Percy guessed she only held her fire because Fury immediately raised his hands and shouted that she do so.
Percy didn't stall as he moved in front of the Director of SHIELD, setting and resting his bloodstained hands calmly onto the desk and leveling his blood-spattered gaze at the man's only eye. "Coulson said something about an Ian Quinn. Find him now."
The woman lowered her weapon slowly as Fury immediately picked up his phone.
"Right is right, even if everyone is against it, and wrong is wrong, even if everyone is for it."
-William Penn
Didn't really enjoy this chapter and had rewritten it multiple times to get it on pace with the rest of the story. Still don't like it but it's necessary to introduce a couple elements that've been hinted at previously even if vaguely.
I would like to remind my readers that the gods will act like gods in this story. They're prideful, arrogant and territorial. Their actions and reactions will be that of an immortal. That isn't to say that they aren't capable of feeling just that they hold such a disregard for mortal life that to snuff a few out that, indirectly or not, contributed to a violation is nothing to them.
Put simply, the gods play The Game. That game is politics. Love it or hate it, that's what they do. This chapter is to further emphasize that while Percy is strong, he is still a servant to Olympus and to further build upon Percy's character and the overall plot of the story.
On that note, (and as always), you can find me on the Emerald Library Discord! It's a fantastic place to interact with other writers and readers where we just chill and chat about ideas, future works and generally just have a good time!
The link to that is on my profile!
Besides that, I will be going on a break for the time being. IRL has me swamped atm, so I don't have much time for writing as I used to.