[6:30 pm; Jackson Residence, Montauk...]
The night was quiet at last. Sally's home had a faint glow from the kitchen light, casting a warm reflection on the polished wooden floor. Aidoneus stood near the window, long silver-white hair falling around the eyepatch that covered his right eye. His attire, formal and extravagant with a high-collared coat adorned with badges, a spiked choker, and patterned white jeans, made him look more like a noble guardian than a god. Now, with the coat removed, he looked quite relaxed but still radiated quiet danger, alert for any threat lingering outside.
Adamas had asked him to stay with Sally on Percy's behalf. Aidoneus only nodded silently. "You need not worry," he said. "She'll be alright."
Sally adjusted a chair for him, worry etched in every movement. "I just-I want him to come back safely," she said softly, glancing toward the door.
"He will," Adamas reassured her. "And we'll be nearby if anything happens."
Percy stood at the threshold, trident in hand, water rippling faintly around his feet. "Mother, I have to go," he said.
He then turned to look at his brother and nodded at him. Aidoneus nodded back in understanding.
Percy and Adamas left the house, stepping into the cool night of Manhattan, where the faint glow of the city masked the divine tensions about to unfold.
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The news reports had already begun circulating.
According to the L.A. papers, the explosion at Santa Monica Beach had been caused by a crazed kidnapper firing a shotgun at a police car. He had accidentally hit a gas main that ruptured during the earthquake.
Witnesses recalled seeing the man in black leather, threatening adolescents across the country-from New York to Denver-and finally leaving a trail of chaos in Los Angeles. Five police cars destroyed, no fatalities, and somehow, Percy Jackson-the child who, somehow, became an international criminal after witnesses saw him "blowing up" vehicles-had survived, outwitted the kidnapper, and retrieved the stolen items.
Turns out the "crazy kidnapper" had been Ares himself.
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[Manhattan...]
Percy left the house with Adamas, and water particles lightly rippled around his feet. Manhattan stretched ahead, the night alive with subtle energy-mortals oblivious to the divine confrontation about to unfold. Percy turned to Annabeth and Grover.
"This is where we split," he said with authority evident in his voice. "I need to return the master bolt to its owner. You two, return to Camp Half-Blood and tell that centaur everything."
Annabeth's brow furrowed, worry evident despite shivering slightly from fear of his authoritative voice. "Are you sure you can handle this alone?"
"Your worry is needless, Athena's halfling," Percy replied simply, the weight of responsibility in his tone. "Go."
Grover stepped forward, his hand hovering briefly on Percy's shoulder. "G-Good luck, Perseus," he muttered. Then, without another word, he and Annabeth melted into the city streets, heading north toward Camp Half-Blood.
Percy and Adamas continued, the Empire State Building looming ahead, the heart of Olympus shimmering atop the Empire State Building in their eyes.
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[Throne Room of Olympus...]
Inside the throne room of Olympus, the gods gathered quietly. Zeus paced near the central dais, lightning flickering faintly from his fingertips as his brows furrowed. Poseidon stood close, arms crossed, a rare frown tugging at his usually jolly expression.
Athena leaned against a column, arms folded. "The currents of fate are... unusual. Something-or someone-is interfering."
Athena's remark made the present Olympians murmur. Apollo, tuning a lyre absentmindedly, glanced up. "It's more than just interference. It's deliberate. The threads of prophecy have been rewritten, subtly but unmistakably. I can feel it."
Hermes looked concerned. "Someone must have been brazen enough to move through Olympus without triggering alarms. It's really impressive. Dangerous, but impressive."
Hera's eyes narrowed. "This cannot be ignored. The balance is shifting. Whoever is behind this, they toy with the prophecy or fate like it's nothing."
Ares, who twitched slightly from the injuries he received from Percy, twirled his spear idly, his glee present on his face, masking his own pain. "Oh, I can smell a war coming. A lot of chaos, a lot of blood. I like it."
Thank f*ck that they're too busy dealing with other things to notice my obviously disheveled appearance. He secretly clenched his hand in anger from the humiliation he suffered from that sea spawn. And that unknown brat who felt like Lord Uncle Hades, just who the f*ck is he?
Zeus' stormy gaze swept the room. "Enough games. These anomalies are significant. Poseidon, I want you to monitor the seas. Athena, research on these abnormal anomalies. Hermes, scout and track any shifts in mortal affairs. Every whisper, every ripple in the threads-notify me immediately."
Poseidon inclined his head. "Understood, Lord Zeus. The oceans themselves seem restless. Something is moving against us."
Demeter frowned, adjusting the hem of her robe. "Even the harvests react strangely. Crops suddenly wither, then recover just as quickly. Not to mention, they all seem healthier than before."
Hephaestus muttered from his corner, adjusting a glowing mechanism. "The energy fluctuations are unprecedented. Whoever's behind this they may have the power to rival the Big Three."
Zeus slammed a fist on the throne armrest. "Then we shall see who dares defy Olympus. Let them approach. Let us assess if they are a threat, or mere fools."
A tense silence followed, the air thick with divine anticipation. All eyes, even those who normally bickered endlessly, were fixed on the shifting currents of fate-sensing the coming storm that no god had yet fully understood.
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[Back to Percy and Adamas, Empire State Building...]
Thirty minutes later, Percy and Adamas walked into the lobby of the Empire State Building.
Despite barely resting after all the events as well as the recent fight with Ares, Percy still looked as regal as ever, his midnight blue long-sleeved turtle-neck shirt unwrinkled and looking untouched by time. His beige slacks and black shoes are free from dirt and grim. Adamas followed quietly with power and pride belonging to that of a goddess. Her matching outfit with Percy, save for the ruby red color of her top made her look dazzling, her presence composed, blood red hair glinting faintly in the harsh fluorescent light of the lobby. Her face tattoos are slightly glowing with ruby light. The backpack with Zeus' Master Bolt slung on her shoulder.
Adamas approached the front desk. "Take us both to the six hundredth floor," he said simply.
The guard, engrossed in a massive book featuring a wizard on the cover, barely looked up. "No such floor, kiddos."
"We request an audience with Zeus," Percy demanded.
The guard blinked. "Sorry?"
"You heard me."
The mortal seemed incapable of grasping the situation until Percy, with a measured movement, unzipped the backpack worn by Adamas to reveal the Master Bolt. The metal cylinder glimmered faintly. The guard's face went pale. "That's-"
"Hn," Percy confirmed. "Shall I use this... toy and—"
"No! No!" The guard scrambled, fumbling for a key card. "Insert this in the security slot. Make sure nobody else is in the elevator with you."
Both former siblings did as instructed. The elevator hummed with Muzak-a distant, absurdly cheerful song. Percy clicked his tongue in mere annoyance with such a distasteful choice of music. As he pressed the newly revealed red button marked 600, the doors opened with a soft chime.
Both stepped out and froze. Below them lay Manhattan, far beneath, spread like a miniature map. In front of him, white marble steps spiraled up through the clouds toward the sky. Their eyes followed the stairway to the summit.
From the clouds rose a snow-capped mountain peak, adorned with multileveled palaces, golden terraces, and open-air gardens blooming with olive trees and rosebushes. Roads wound up to the largest palace at the peak, while a bustling market, a stone amphitheater, and a coliseum dotted the surrounding slopes. It was Athens reborn-vivid, clean, alive-and impossible to ignore.
Percy frowned in disdain. "They call this Olympus?"
Adamas shared the same disdain. "Tch. Our old Olympus is a thousand times better than this... cheap copy."
As they traversed Olympus' floating streets, they barely registered the giggling wood nymphs tossing olives, hawkers offering ambrosia-on-a-stick, and satyrs curiously eyeing them. The nine muses tuned their instruments in the park, while teenagers who might have been minor gods and goddesses watched from afar. Despite the looming tensions of the gods' civil disputes, life here thrived in unbothered festivity.
Percy and Adamas climbed toward the grand palace at the summit, a gleaming mirror to Hades' Underworld throne room, only bathed in white and silver instead of black and bronze. They both realized—Hades had built his realm underground as an echo of Olympus, a world forbidden to him above. It seems that this world's Olympus does not welcome its Hades, as he should have been.
The steps led up to a central courtyard and then to the throne room. The space was immense; the ceiling domed with shifting constellations, twelve thrones carved for beings larger than most gods, arranged in an inverted U. At the far end, the head throne on the right and its immediate neighbor were occupied—Zeus and Poseidon, unmistakable, watching him approach.
Percy moved forward with the grace that did not belonged to that of a demigod but a god. Adamas moved silently beside him, confidence oozing within her steps.
"Come here," Zeus commanded. His voice rolled through the air like a storm.
Percy did not obey but stopped walking. He reached into the backpack, pulled out the Master Bolt, and tossed it onto the floor. The golden cylinder rolled until it stopped at Zeus' feet, humming faintly.
"I believe that's yours," Percy said flatly.
A murmur rippled through the gods.
Zeus' eyes narrowed in fury as his weapon was treated lightly. "What is the meaning of this??!
"Your son, Ares, had it," Percy said.
Adamas continued for him, "He was manipulated—b someone older. Kronos, as he goes by."
The word echoed like a death knell.
Zeus' lightning flared. "You dare—"
Poseidon raised a hand. "Brother, he is speaking the truth. Even you can feel the tremor in the air."
Zeus grunted, electricity arcing across his shoulders, but said nothing.
Poseidon turned to Percy, his expression softening. "You've done well, my son—"
"Enough."
The word was sharp, cutting. Poseidon froze.
"Do not call me that," Percy said, his voice trembling—not with fear, but fury. "I do not acknowledge you as my father."
The entire throne room stilled. Athena leaned forward, frowning. Hermes blinked in disbelief. Even Ares looked almost amused, despite wincing in pain.
Poseidon's brow furrowed. "You speak out of anger—"
"I only speak the truth." Percy voiced out with finality. "You abandoned my mother and me. You hid behind rules while monsters hunted me and my mother. You call yourself a god, but you're nothing more than a coward with power."
Thunder boomed above them as Zeus rose from his throne. "ENOUGH!!!"
The sky darkened, lightning coiling around his fists. "You will show respect before the King of Olympus!"
But Percy didn't move. Didn't kneel. Didn't even flinch. Worse, he did not even look him in the eyes.
Instead, the air shifted. The marble beneath his feet rippled like the surface of the ocean. With a sound like waves breaking against cliffs, a throne of water rose right in front of Zeus and Poseidon-gleaming, fluid, alive. Its surface shimmered with light from the deep sea, its back crowned with coral and pearls that pulsed faintly.
It stood taller than Poseidon's.
Percy sat upon it. Calm. Commanding.
Adamas, meanwhile, sat on the right armrest of Percy's throne, her legs crossed as her left elbow was on top of Percy's shoulder. The back of her hand was comfortably resting on her chin. She smirked at the so-called gods' flabbergasted expressions.
"You do not deserve respect," he said, voice low but steady. "None of you do. You sit here, pretending to rule, while your own children fight your battles and pay for your mistakes."
Lightning crackled. The scent of ozone burned the air.
Zeus' voice thundered. "You think yourself a god?!"
Percy tilted his head, gaze unwavering, but never once looked at any of them. "I know I am better than one such as any of you."
The throne behind him surged higher, waves coiling protectively. Zeus hurled a lightning bolt-it struck the wave and dissipated, swallowed by the sea.
Adamas lifted her hand subtly,and a scythe-like sword appeared in her hand as she sliced through the lightning bolt, effectively deflecting and dissipating it.
Zeus' fury reached its breaking point. Lightning exploded across the ceiling. "YOU DARE DEFY ME—"
Percy rose from his throne, the waters suddenly becoming hostile. "Throw all the tantrums you want, Zeus. You're not a king, nor are you a god. You're nothing but a child who throws storms when things do not go your way."
Poseidon's expression twisted with guilt, pride, and regret. "Percy..."
Percy turned, cold eyes NEARLY meeting his. "You had your chance."
The throne dissolved into mist. Both Percy and Adamas slowly floated down. "We're done here."
Adamas followed him without a word, her aura shimmering faintly with restrained fury and immense amusement at the Olympians' humiliation.
She stopped for a while and turned to look at them. Her face contorted with sadistic glee. "You so-called gods are nothing more than trash. You all deserve nothing more than humiliation. And leave us the f*ck alone."
She turned back against them and followed Percy out.
The doors of Olympus closed behind them with a crash that shook the mountain.
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Silence lingered for a long moment.
Then, from the center of Olympus, came a thunderous BOOM.
Zeus hurled another lightning bolt into the clouds outside, the sound echoing like a god-sized temper tantrum.
Apollo coughed into his hand. "So... uh. Is anyone else going to mention that His Majesty just nuked half a cloud because a teenager hurt his feelings?"
Athena sighed. "He's been doing that since the Bronze Age."
Hermes snickered. "I give it five minutes before he breaks another pillar."
A crack of thunder followed immediately.
Hermes smirked. "Told you."
Poseidon stared at the fading mist where Percy had stood. There was guilt in his gaze-real, heavy guilt.
"He's stronger than I ever imagined," Poseidon murmured.
Zeus grumbled, still pacing furiously. "He is insolent."
"He is right," Athena said softly. "And that makes him dangerous."
The Constellations, who were observing, stirred above, unseen but felt.
「The Constellation "Father of the Rich Night" quietly observes.」
The Constellation "Father of the Rich Night" notes that the boy and his beloved rise beyond the stars' expectations.」
「The Constellation "The One Who Twists the Plotline" giggles with excitement.
「The Constellation "The One Who Twists the Plotline" says that derailment is beautiful and that the canon plotline lies shattered.」
「The Constellation "Sadistic A■■ & R■■" laughs at how things have turned.
「The Constellation "Sadistic A■■ & R■■" muses that Zeus is having a tantrum like a spoiled brat.」
And below, in the mortal world, Sally Jackson's lamp flickered—a subtle reminder that fate itself was changing course.
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[Back to Jackson Residence in Montauk...]
Down in the mortal world, Sally Jackson sat at her small kitchen table. The clock ticked softly, the hum of the refrigerator filling the quiet. Aidoneus slept in the guest room. Faint traces of his divine essence swept all over the apartment as the shadows from every animate and inanimate object breathed with power.
Sally exhaled slowly as her divine aura slowly leaked out.
Golden light bloomed as it coalesced into a fountain pen and a book that shimmered with divine energy. The cover was blank, save for a faint, swirling emblem-like constellations rearranging themselves into new shapes.
The book opened on its own. Text written in an ancient, shifting language glowed faintly, alive.
Sally smiled faintly and began to write.
"And thus, the throne of the Tyrant of the Sea rose higher than the gods had ever dared imagine..."
Her words shimmered in the air, etching themselves into existence. The ink of her will reshaped the narrative itself.
She paused only once, glancing out the window toward the faint golden glow of Olympus in the clouds.
"I suppose," she whispered, "I've changed more than just the story."
And with a knowing smile-the kind only an [Author] above the Fates could wear-she continued to write, her pen dancing across the page, altering destiny with every stroke. Changing the universe's plotline as she sees fit.