The last slice of pizza slid down his throat, grease clinging to his tongue. Outside the greasy window, pigeons fought over crumbs near a dumpster lid that wouldn't close properly.
"Help!" The scream ripped through the damp forest air, instantly swallowed by the roar of crashing waves below. A girl, maybe thirteen, teetered wildly on the crumbling edge of a cliff, her frantic scrabbling sending pebbles into the churning darkness. Below her, plummeting into the frothing abyss, was a snarling figure shedding chunks of its cheap suit disguise, revealing patches of coarse, lion-like fur and thick scorpion tail. Annebeth Chase's eyes were wide with terror as gravity snatched her backwards.
The air crackled violently ten feet above Annebeth's falling form. Reality warped in a violent swirl of crimson and black, coalescing into a man standing impossibly on thin air. He wore a stark orange mask with a single spiraling hole over his left eye, a high-collared black cloak snapping like a war banner in the sudden wind. One pale hand shot out, grabbing Annabeth's wrist just as her fingers lost purchase. Her breath hitched in a choked gasp of shock.
Silence slammed down. The masked man landed lightly on solid ground, Annabeth stumbling beside him. His visible eye, an impossible deep red slashed with intricate black lines under the strange spiral pattern of the mask, swept coldly over the frozen tableau: the shaken Hunters of Artemis clutching bows, their silver parkas stark against the trees; the small, fierce girl-child radiating palpable divine presence; Percy Jackson, frozen mid-lunge, green eyes huge with disbelief; and Nico and Bianca di Angelo, the younger boy gripping his sister's arm protectively, fear etching both their young faces. The masked head tilted slightly, a silent, unnerving assessment that lingered longest on the twins. "Interesting," rasped the distorted voice from behind the mask, low and devoid of warmth.
His gaze snapped towards Percy, then flickered dismissively to the lion-scorpion monster scrambling awkwardly on the cliffside rocks below. "The son of Poseidon," the voice stated flatly, the words hanging heavy. "Working with the man-hating Goddess." One gloved finger lazily pointed towards the silent girl-child radiating power silently near Thalia. "And her loyal hounds." The finger shifted, impossibly fast, to Thalia Grace herself, her sky-blue eyes narrowed dangerously, sparks dancing faintly around her fingertips despite the paralysis gripping the group. The masked head tilted again, the exposed crimson eye boring into hers. "And the forgotten daughter of Zeus," the voice continued, dripping with icy curiosity. "Pretending the gods care for her." His head tilted sharply, deliberately, locking onto Thalia Grace. "How... interesting."
Annabeth tore her wrist free, shaky but defiant. "Who *are* you?" she demanded, her voice trembling only slightly. Her grey eyes scanned the impossible mask, the distinctive cloak snapping in the wind off the cliff. That crimson eye slid calmly, unnervingly, back to her face, holding her gaze for a heartbeat longer than necessary. The silence stretched, thick with the Hunters' unstrung bowstrings and Percy's choked breath. Then, that distorted, emotionless voice rasped out, chillingly calm: "Call me Madera."
Without another glance at the stunned demigods or the divine child, Madera turned his back on them all. He stepped smoothly towards the cliff's crumbling edge where the manticore – lion torso now fully exposed, scorpion tail arched high – hissed upwards, venom dripping from its stinger. Below, the churning Atlantic waves roared against jagged rocks. The air around Madera seemed to thicken, shimmering faintly with unseen power. He lifted one pale hand, not aggressively, but dismissively, as if flicking away lint. "Shinra Tensei," he stated, the words flat and devoid of inflection, merely a declaration of inevitable consequence.
SUMMARY^1: Annabeth defiantly demanded the masked man's identity after freeing herself. He identified himself calmly as 'Madera' with his unnerving crimson eye fixed on her. He then turned his back on the group, approached the cliff edge where the manticore was perched, and used an ability called 'Shinra Tensei' against the roaring Atlantic waves below with dismissive ease.
A silent shockwave erupted from Madera's outstretched palm. It wasn't fire or lightning; it was pure, crushing force, an implacable wall of invisible pressure slamming *outward*. The cliff face beneath the scrambling manticore didn't just crumble; it vaporized in a spray of rock dust and pulverized stone. The monster vanished instantly – vaporized mid-snarl – swallowed by the expanding sphere of annihilation that flattened the cliffside down another ten meters in an eyeblink. Rocks the size of cabins dissolved into powder. The Hunters staggered back, shields raised instinctively against the sudden, concussion-like blast of displaced air, tasting grit and ozone.
Madera lowered his hand slowly. Where the cliff had been moments before, a smooth, concave bowl of pulverized rock now shimmered, stark white against the weathered granite. Sea spray misted upwards from the violent impact far below, catching the fading light like scattered diamonds. He didn't turn. His masked head tilted slightly, the crimson eye scanning the stunned demigods and Hunters. His distorted voice sliced through the ringing silence and the ocean's roar, coldly precise: "Tell me," he rasped, the word laced with icy curiosity that sent shivers down spines despite the absurd orange mask, "what are two children of the Big Three doing all the way out here... at this backwater school?" His visible eye lingered on Thalia's crackling form, then slid deliberately, almost mockingly, towards Percy Jackson's still-frozen stance. Nico flinched, clutching Bianca tighter, sensing the profound, unnatural weight settling upon them.
SUMMARY^1: Madera unleashed 'Shinra Tensei', silently vaporizing the cliff face and the manticore instantly, leaving a deep concave crater. The Hunters shielded themselves from the blast's force. He then coldly questioned the presence of Thalia Grace and Percy Jackson, children of Zeus and Poseidon ("Big Three"), at the demigod training ground ("backwater school"), his crimson eye mocking both survivors and inducing fear in Nico and Bianca.
"*Reincarnated. After falling asleep reading… Naruto? And Titan's Curse? Simultaneously?*" The chaotic thoughts slammed into the core of his being with the same devastating force as his Shinra Tensei. Behind the calm facade of the mask, Madera's mind was a hurricane. Images flooded in – the greasy pizza box, the cramped apartment flooding with the glow of his laptop screen split between Obito Uchiha unleashing Kurama on Konoha and Annabeth Chase plummeting towards a manticore. The scent of cheap pepperoni mixed violently with the damp pine and ozone scent of the Maine woods. "*This isn't a fever dream. That screeching pigeon…*" He could almost feel the phantom grease clinging to his tongue, instantly replaced by the acrid tang of vaporized rock still hanging in the air. "*This is Percy Jackson. And I'm… Obito?*" The sheer impossibility of it threatened to crack his composure; the cool detachment demanded by the Rinne-Sharingan warred violently against rising panic and disbelief.
Externally, Madera remained a statue carved from menace. Beneath the high collar of the Akatsuki cloak, however, a single bead of cold sweat traced an unseen path down his temple. His heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic drumbeat muffled by the stiff fabric. "*Obito's jutsu… Sharingan genjutsu… Rinnegan paths…*" The knowledge was *there*, instinctive, terrifyingly potent – a tidal wave of power waiting to be unleashed. Yet superimposed over the chilling familiarity of chakra pathways was the visceral terror in Annabeth's grey eyes moments ago, the divine aura radiating from Artemis's lieutenant, Thalia's fierce defiance. "*This world blehes Greek myth! That's Bianca di Angelo beside Nico… she shouldn't be… alive?*" The dissonance was physically jarring. He focused intensely on the microscopic texture of the wind-snapped cloak against his glove, grounding himself in the tactile reality before the sheer absurdity drowned him.
The silence stretched. The Hunters hadn't lowered their bows; Thalia's sparks flared brighter. Percy took a hesitant step forward, Riptide gleaming. "Back off, freak!" Thalia snarled, her voice cracking slightly despite the electricity dancing around her fists, her gaze locked fiercely on Madera, utterly unaware of the internal storm behind the mask. Annabeth subtly shifted her stance, preparing for a fight she knew they couldn't win.
Madera's mask tilted slowly, deliberately towards Thalia. For a heartbeat, the distorted rasp didn't come. Then, it sliced through the tension, colder than the sea spray misting the pulverized cliff – a harsh parody of curiosity. "Freak?" The single word echoed unnaturally. "Is that how demigods say 'thank you' nowadays?" Slowly, deliberately, one gloved finger rose, not pointing, but merely hovering towards the jagged scar where the cliff had been vaporized mere seconds ago. Its sheer impossibility hung heavier than the ozone scent. The crimson eye within the mask's spiral remained fixed on Thalia, utterly unblinking, waiting.
Annabeth swallowed hard. The sheer, terrifying incongruity hit her – the childish insult, flung at something that casually obliterated geography and monsters alike. Grey eyes flicked from the impassive mask to Thalia's pale, furious face, then to the trembling Bianca clinging to Nico's arm. Her knuckles whitened on the shaft of her knife. Percy shifted again, clearly torn between protecting Thalia and keeping Annabeth shielded. "Thalia…" he breathed, a warning lost in the wind.
Madera observed the fractured tableau: Percy's protective instinct warring with confusion, Nico's dark eyes wide with primal fear directed squarely at *him*, Bianca's small frame trembling, Thalia's defiant sparking fists. The internal hurricane roared – *Grease on my tongue, pigeons fighting, Konoha burning, Annabeth falling* – but Obito's muscle memory kept his masked head tilting slowly, precisely. That coldly curious rasp tore through the sea wind again. "And you," the distorted voice echoed strangely as he deliberately tilted his masked head toward the silent girl radiating palpable divinity near Thalia. His crimson Sharingan-Rinnegan eye bored into her.
The intense divine aura surrounding Artemis's lieutenant shimmered faintly under the masked scrutiny. Madera's gloved hand gestured dismissively at the Hunters, their silver parkas stark against the pines. "What are *you* doing out here," he rasped, the unnatural distortion twisting his tone as he locked onto the divine child's presence, "surrounded by your man-hating hounds?" The air crackled with Thalia's suppressed sparks. He continued, a harsh parody of reason lacing the cold distortion, "Did you finally weary," Madera's voice dropped lower, thick with mocking inquiry, "of cursing random mortals for glancing your way? Seeking... fresher prey?" The accusation hung heavy, a deliberate barb twisting Artemis's millennia of sacred vows.
Artemis's lieutenant stood still as marble, her young face impassive despite the perceived insult radiating off Madera's words. Yet Thalia couldn't hold back. She surged forward half a step, electricity arcing violently between her fingers. "You shut your lying mouth!" she snarled, her voice cracking with fury, blue eyes blazing murderously at the orange mask. "You don't know *anything* about the Hunters!" Annabeth's hand shot out, gripping Thalia's arm tightly. Percy instinctively stepped between Thalia and the towering threat in the Akatsuki cloak.
Madera didn't flinch. The crimson eye within the spiral mask remained utterly fixed on Artemis's lieutenant. There was no flicker of reaction to Thalia's outburst, only cold, unnerving stillness. The tension coiled tighter than a thousand bowstrings. Annabeth could taste the ozone and dust, feel Nico's terrified breath beside her, see the utter incomprehension on Percy's face. Her own mind raced – *Obito? Sharingan? Impossible. But that annihilation…* – Grey eyes darted back to Thalia, half expecting a deadly bolt to fly. The silence stretched, thick with pulverized rock settling and the distant roar of the Atlantic crashing against the unnatural cliff-face Madera had carved. His masked head tilted infinitesimally further. Waiting.
Slowly, deliberately, Madera's gaze drifted from Zoe Nightshade's stiff, silent form to Thalia's crackling defiance. The distorted voice sliced through the tension, colder than the mist rising from the pulverized rock bowl below. "Has your goddess," Madera hissed, the distortion twisting the word into something vaguely reptilian, "fallen so low..." His crimson eye slid back to Zoe, lingering with chilling precision. "...that she can no longer come herself?" The accusation landed like a hammer blow. Zoe remained impossibly still, her youthful face carved from marble, yet a flicker of something ancient and furious flashed in her dark eyes – millennia of sacred duty insulted by this impossible abomination clad in stolen menace. Annabeth felt Thalia inhale sharply beside her, the electric charge intensifying tenfold.
"To send her lieutenant," Madera continued, the rasp glacially slow, emphasizing every syllable with chilling disdain. His visible eye remained locked on Zoe Nightshade, utterly ignoring Thalia's incandescent fury. "...and whelps barely weaned from mortal nurseries..." A dismissive twitch of one gloved finger encompassed Percy, Nico, Bianca, and Thalia herself. "...into the path of beasts she herself cursed?" His voice dropped to a near whisper, thick with mocking inquiry. "Is hunting monsters beneath Olympus now?" The implication hung heavy: Artemis diminished, desperate, abandoning vows. Zoe's knuckles tightened on her silver bow, her silence a deafening scream of outrage.
A blinding arc of white-hot electricity erupted from Thalia's hand, aimed straight for the spiraling hole in Madera's mask. "ENOUGH!" she roared, her voice cracking with divine fury, pushing Annabeth's restraining hand aside with surprising strength. Percy lunged forward instinctively, Riptide flashing, but too slow. The lightning bolt was unleashed. Annabeth tried to scream a warning – the sheer futility of it choked her. Zoe remained statue-still, her ancient eyes narrowed.
Madera didn't move. His crimson eye tracked the bolt's trajectory with detached boredom. As the blinding energy surged inches from his mask, he simply lifted his left hand, palm open. Not aggressively, but with the weary indifference of someone brushing away a fly. The air around his hand shimmered violently, compressing into a visible distortion – a shield woven from pure repulsive force.
**The lightning bolt slammed into the invisible barrier mid-air.** It didn't explode or dissipate immediately; instead, it struck with terrifying solidity, freezing entirely. Jagged forks of pure energy crackled and writhed against the unseen wall like a trapped serpent, bathing Madera's masked face and snapping cloak in harsh, flickering light, illuminating the impossible stillness of his posture. Sparks hissed and spat impotently against the barrier, illuminating the disbelief etched onto every face – Thalia's fury warping into shock, Nico's terrified awe, Percy's wide-eyed paralysis.
The crimson eye within the mask tilted slowly, deliberately, locking onto Thalia's stunned face. The distorted rasps echoed over the crackling, immobilized lightning and the frantic pounding of hearts. **"And why," Madera inquired, his voice unnervingly calm beneath the distortion,** **"are you so… incensed, Daughter of Zeus?"** He paused, letting the sheer audacity of him stopping Thalia's wrath hang in the charged air. His gaze flickered dismissively towards Zoe Nightshade's frozen Hunters. **"You are not,"** he stated flatly, **"one of Artemis's… hounds."** The final word dripped with icy precision, a deliberate contrast to Zoe's palpable divinity and the Hunters' silver regalia. His masked head tilted further, examining Thalia as a specimen. "Does defending her insults ease the sting of your own abandonment? Your father discarded you beneath a pine tree. She merely collects convenient weapons." The trapped lightning hissed, trapped light dancing in Thalia's horrified eyes, stripping her defiance bare.
Thalia felt the accusation land like a physical blow. The crackling energy trapped before Madera seemed to mirror the storm trapped within her own chest – rage, terror, and a deep, ancient shame ignited by his cruel observation. Her fists clenched, knuckles bone-white, but no new bolt leaped forth. The impossible barrier holding her fury suspended was proof enough of her helplessness against this… thing. Percy watched her, Riptide forgotten in his limp hand, seeing the vulnerable daughter of Zeus beneath the stormy facade for the first time. Annabeth's analytical mind raced: *Stopped pure celestial energy? Like it was nothing. That barrier… it felt like the cliff vaporizing, but… controlled. Contained.* Her grey eyes darted to Zoe, hoping for the Lieutenant's reaction, a signal, anything.
Zoe Nightshade moved. Not hastily, but with the terrifying fluidity of a predator finally unleashed after an eternity of stillness. Silver flashed as she smoothly nocked an arrow – not celestial bronze, but shimmering Stygian iron that drank in the light, its tip aimed unerringly between the spiral hole and Madera's crimson eye. Her youthful face was devoid of expression, but her dark eyes held the cold fury of a glacier millennia old. "Thy tongue drips venom, abomination," she declared, her voice ringing clear and sharp over the hissing lightning and ocean roar. "Thou knowest nothing of vows made unto the Mistress of Beasts. Release the sky-spawn's fury." Her command hung heavy, an ancient power radiating from her small frame, daring him. "Or taste mine." The trapped lightning illuminated the ancient resolve etched onto her youthful features. Madera's masked head tilted minimally towards her, a silent acknowledgement. The tension snapped tighter. Annabeth held her breath. Thalia stopped trembling.
A distorted chuckle emanated from behind the orange mask, chillingly devoid of genuine amusement. It vibrated through the sudden silence after Zoe's command. "Such fervor," Madera rasped, his voice thick with icy curiosity. He slowly turned fully towards Zoe, ignoring the immobilized bolt entirely. His crimson Sharingan-Rinnegan eye bored into hers. "Go ahead," he invited, the distortion twisting the words into a serpentine whisper. He gestured lazily with one gloved hand towards the center of his own torso beneath the Akatsuki cloak. "If you *believe* your little arrow will work..." He let the implication hang, heavy with condescension, his body language radiating utter, terrifying indifference. "...then please... shoot me." His crimson eye didn't waver from Zoe's furious gaze. Percy flinched, sensing the trap but helpless to intervene. Nico pulled Bianca further back, his shadows instinctively coiling protectively.
The Stygian iron arrow flew. It sliced through the misty air with supernatural speed, a streak of darkness whispering death. It grew larger, impossibly fast, aimed perfectly for Madera's heart beneath the swirling crimson cloud insignia. The Hunters leaned forward, anticipating impact, the sickening crunch of Stygian iron meeting flesh. Thalia's trapped lightning hissed louder. Annabeth's grey eyes widened, fixed on the arrow's trajectory. For a fraction of a heartbeat, Madera remained utterly still, a statue awaiting its destruction.
Then, the impossible. The arrowhead struck the cloak... and passed *through*. Not deflected, not blocked. It pierced the fabric, cloak, and the space where Madera's body should have been like smoke, vanishing into a swirling distortion centered over his torso. The air warped violently, rippling with concentric rings of crimson and black emanating from the point of impact – a localized maelstrom sucking in light and sound momentarily. There was no resistance, no flinch. The arrow simply ceased to exist within the vortex, reappearing harmlessly a dozen feet **behind** him, embedding itself deep into a pine tree with a dull *thunk*. Madera hadn't moved a muscle. The ripple subsided instantly. His masked head remained tilted towards Zoe, the crimson eye utterly unchanged. The silence that followed was deafening, thick with disbelief and primal dread. Zoe Nightshade's ancient composure showed its first true crack – the faintest widening of her dark eyes as she stared at where her arrow had vanished. Annabeth tasted ash and ozone, her mind screaming instinctive terror at the violation of physics before her. Nico whimpered softly. Percy's sword arm fell limp. Madera's distorted whisper sliced the silence: "Belief... so easily misplaced."
The mist off the obliterated cliff seemed to flow unnaturally fast. One heartbeat, Madera stood perfectly still before Zoe, facing her bow. The next, the displaced air rippled violently beside Zoe Nightshade herself – a swirl of crimson and black coils striking like displaced lightning, leaving ozone scent scorching Annabeth's nostrils. His tall, cloaked form coalesced instantly, preternaturally silent despite the suddenness. Before Zoe could react – before her Hunters could gasp – Madera's gloved hand clamped down hard on her shoulder. His grip was iron cold, freezing through her silver parka, pinning her ancient muscles instantly. The sudden proximity radiated unnatural cold and a suffocating pressure that smelled faintly of grave dirt and ozone. Her silver bow slipped from suddenly nerveless fingers, clattering onto the rocky ground. Bianca screamed. Thalia choked back a curse. Percy stumbled forward instinctively, Riptide forgotten, driven only by protective fury. But it was too late.
Leaning down slightly, his masked face mere inches from Zoe's ear beneath her dark hair, Madera's distorted rasp tore through her senses – intimate, chilling, devoid of inflection. "While you," the voice whispered directly into her skull, twisting the words, "cannot age..." He paused, letting millennia of immortal existence resonate under his grip. "...you can still be killed." The statement landed like a tombstone. His crimson Sharingan-Rinnegan eye bored sideways into Zoe's frozen profile, scrutinizing the flicker of millennia-old defiance warring with primal fear reflected in her widened dark eyes. Her lips parted silently, trapped between outrage and terror. Annabeth felt her own breath stop, paralyzed by the sheer blasphemy unfolding. Madera's masked head tilted infinitesimally closer. "Would you like..." His whisper deepened, colder than Stygian iron, thick with glacial curiosity. "...to see what the Underworld looks like... *Child*?"
The word '*Child*', spat with mocking precision against a being older than nations, hung suspended. Then the world dissolved. The clearing vanished. Not darkness, but a violent, disorienting whirlwind of crimson and black reality fragments tore through Zoe's vision, accompanied by the horrifying roar of distorted spatial compression – a sound like continents grinding against each other. Annabeth saw Zoe's eyes snap impossibly wide, filled with pure, ancient terror, a silent scream locked in her throat. Thalia roared defiance, unleashing trapped lightning uselessly where Madera *had* been. Percy lunged towards empty space. Nico's shadows instinctively surged outward – too slow. Just as suddenly as he'd appeared beside Zoe, Madera and the Lieutenant were simply... gone. Vanished without a ripple. Only the cold imprint of his glove remained on Annabeth's memory, the scent of ozone grave dirt lingering, and Zoe's silver bow lying abandoned on the pulverized rock.
Three agonizing heartbeats later, the air beside the Hunters erupted. Not with sound, but with violent spatial displacement – a silent, sudden *tear*. Madera materialized instantly, untouched, cloak snapping as if he'd merely stepped through a curtain. In his left hand, Zoe hung limp as a discarded puppet. Her silver parka was torn, dark hair matted to a forehead smeared with damp pine needles and grime. Her eyes were wide open, utterly blank, unfocused – staring into depths no living thing should perceive. One pale arm dangled unnaturally. Madera didn't hold her; he simply gripped her shoulder strap, letting her small form swing like a broken doll. Bianca screamed again, a raw sound of horror tearing loose. Thalia's lightning sputtered and died. Percy froze mid-lunge, Riptide's point hovering impotently. The Hunters stumbled back, horrified gasps escaping lips usually trained for stoicism. Annabeth's stomach plummeted; the sheer, callous brutality of it was worse than the annihilation of the cliff.
Without ceremony, Madera flicked his wrist. Zoe's limp form arced through the air like discarded refuse, landing with a sickeningly soft, boneless thud at the feet of her stunned Hunters. Her limbs sprawled unnaturally against the sharp rock fragments, dust settling onto her torn silver parka. One Hunter choked back a sob, dropping to her knees beside her Lieutenant, hesitant hands hovering over her terrifyingly still form. The others raised shaking bows towards Madera, arrows trembling wildly. His crimson eye beneath the spiral mask swept over the tableau of shock and primal fear, utterly devoid of reaction.
"She is not dead," Madera stated, the distortion twisting his voice into something flat and metallic. His gaze didn't linger on Zoe's limp form, but locked onto Percy Jackson, then Thalia Grace, his crimson Sharingan-Rinnegan eye gleaming within the spiral mask. The Hunters scrambled around Zoe's body, frantic fingers checking for a pulse beneath the torn silver parka. Her shallow breaths were barely audible over the ocean's roar beneath the pulverized cliff. Dust coated her face and matted her dark hair. Madera's masked head tilted slightly, observing the horrified faces – Bianca burying herself in Nico's shadow-cloaked shoulder, Percy gripping Riptide so tight his knuckles shone white, Thalia trembling with impotent fury mixed with chilling dread. "But her mind..." Madera hissed, dragging out the silence deliberately. "...might not fully recover." The words landed like stones, each syllable sharpening the Hunters' gasps and Annabeth's rapidly forming horror.
He shifted his weight almost negligibly, the Akatsuki cloak swirling around his ankles. His visible eye slid slowly towards Zoe Nightshade again, a dismissal sharp enough to draw blood. "Unless..." The distortion deepened, thick with icy amusement. "...Apollo himself..." Madera paused, letting the absurdity resonate – invoking a specific Olympian, known for healing *and* curses, amidst shattered demigods and Hunters. "...decides to bless her." The implication hung heavy: Zoe's sanity hinged entirely on divine favor Madera knew was distant and uncertain. Beneath the mask, the storm of dissonant memories surged – Apollo's golden lyre superimposed over Konoha's burning roofs. *Focus*, he commanded himself silently, forcing Obito's unnatural calm through the chaos. Externally, his posture remained utterly unyielding, radiating terrifying indifference.
Annabeth Chase stared at Zoe's terrifyingly vacant eyes, then snapped her gaze back to Madera. The sheer, cold calculation behind the statement sliced through her fear. Her mind raced: *He knew exactly who Apollo was. He invoked him specifically. Not Artemis. Why? To demoralize? Or...* Her grey eyes widened fractionally. *Is he testing their reach? Divinity here?* Then, stifling her panic, she spoke, her voice clipped and analytical, stark against the Hunters' muffled sobs. "Why do this?" Her knuckles were white on her knife handle. "Why torture her? Us?"
Madera's masked head tilted slowly, deliberately, towards Annabeth. The crimson Sharingan-Rinnegan eye within the spiral focused solely on her, ignoring Thalia's horrified gasp and Percy's protective shift. That distorted rasp sliced through the misty air again, unnervingly calm. "Tell me, Annabeth Chase, Child of Athena..." He paused, letting her name hang with chilling precision. "...if someone shot a deadly arrow at you..." One gloved hand gestured dismissively at Zoe's discarded bow lying amidst pulverized rock. "...would *you* not retaliate?" The accusation landed like a dagger. It wasn't anger in his tone, but icy logic. Annabeth froze, her tactical mind replaying Zoe's lethal Stygian iron arrow speeding towards Madera's heart moments ago. The sheer inevitability of his response – deflection, then annihilation – crystallized with horrifying clarity. Percy inhaled sharply, realization dawning on his face. Bianca whimpered, burying deeper into Nico's shadows.
Annabeth's throat tightened. Her grip on her knife shifted minutely – not readying for combat, but grounding herself. Grey eyes flicked from Zoe's limp form back to the spiraling mask. Strategy warred with empathy. "She fired to defend Thalia," Annabeth countered, her voice low but steady, forcing reason into the charged air thick with Hunters' silent tears and Thalia's ragged breaths. "Your words were poison." She gestured subtly towards Zoe's silver bow lying abandoned. "You insulted millennia of vows. You *wanted* her to shoot."
A low, distorted chuckle vibrated from behind the orange mask – a sound devoid of humor, dripping with chilling finality. It echoed unnaturally over the distant crash of waves against the unnatural cliff bowl Madera had sculpted. The crimson Sharingan-Rinnegan eye remained locked on Annabeth. "No," Madera rasped, dragging out the syllable like scraping steel. "Child of Athena..." His voice dipped lower, colder. "...she fired... to fix her wounded pride." He paused, the emphasis deliberate, cutting. "The cracks you see..." His gloved hand gestured dismissively towards Zoe's terrifyingly vacant stare. "...were already there. I merely... applied pressure." The implication hung heavy: Zoe's millennia of rigid devotion had been brittle, ready to shatter.
He tilted his masked head slowly, surveying the tableau of devastation – Zoe broken, Thalia trembling, Percy paralyzed, the Hunters shattered, Nico shielding Bianca. His crimson eye lingered briefly on Percy Jackson's pale face. "An... interesting reaction," Madera acknowledged Annabeth's words with unnerving calm, the distortion softening his tone into something almost conversational. "But ultimately immaterial."
Annabeth tensed, knife blade cold against her palm. Percy shifted instinctively toward Thalia's crackling aura. Madera's visible gaze swept the pulverized cliff-edge, lingering on Zoe's unnaturally still form guarded by her frantic Hunters. The distraught lieutenant's shallow breaths rasped against the silence, her silver parka stained with dust and dew. Muttering Hunters pressed dampened cloths to her brow. Madera's masked head tilted infinitesimally higher, scanning the turbulent sky beyond the shattered precipice – a sky conspicuously devoid of celestial chariots or godly wrath.
"An intriguing escalation," Madera rasped, his distorted voice slicing through the Hunters' muffled cries. His crimson Sharingan-Rinnegan eye traced the distant storm clouds gathering over the Atlantic with chilling precision. "Yet..." The air vibrated under the unnerving distortion as he lowered his gaze towards Nico's shadow-wrapped form huddled beside Bianca's terrified face. "...I confess..." He paused, dragging out the silence until Thalia's trembling fist sparked erratically. "...I am surprised." His gloved hand flicked dismissively towards Zoe's broken stillness. "Possessing foreknowledge of events..." The distortion deepened, thick with icy mockery. "...I suspected Artemis herself..." His masked head scanned the moonless horizon again. "...would be here..." The pause stretched, thick with pulverized rock settling and Bianca's stifled sob. "...**by now**." His crimson eye snapped back to the Hunters flinching over Zoe, radiating terrifying disdain. "...And yet..." The distortion sharpened to a razor's edge. "...I see..." A slow, deliberate pivot encompassed the desolate treeline stretching towards Camp Half-Blood's distant pine barrier. "...no Goddess." The accusation cracked like ice settling. "...How..." The rasp elongated, dripping glacial disappointment. "...**disappointing**."
Thalia's breath hitched, her defiance crumbling under the weight of divine abandonment made audible. Percy felt cold sweat trace his spine – Madera *knew* Artemis's habits, foresaw her intervention. Annabeth mentally reconstructed Zoe's frantic prayers before the attack, now chillingly unanswered. Bianca buried her face deeper in Nico's shadow-cloak. The crimson eye locked onto Annabeth's analytical grey gaze, probing her realization. **"Perhaps,"** Madera hissed, the distortion twisting into something serpentine, **"her Lieutenant was deemed... insufficient bait?"** His masked head tilted towards Zoe's limp hand lying palm-up on sharp rock. **"Or..."** His gloved hand gestured towards Percy and Thalia. **"...her wrath reserves her..."** The rasp deepened, colder than Stygian iron. **"...for bigger game?"**
The implication hung like a blade suspended: *They* were Artemis's true targets. Panic bloomed in Nico's wide eyes. Thalia's fists clenched, celestial sparks fizzling impotently. Percy raised Riptide, its celestial bronze glow feeble against the encroaching dusk. Madera shifted his weight almost negligibly, the Akatsuki cloak swirling around his ankles as he turned fully away from Zoe's discarded form. His crimson eye fixed on the darkening woods eastward – woods hiding Camp Half-Blood. "Pity," he rasped, the distortion flattening into terrifying finality. "I'd hoped... for a conversation." He began walking, unhurried, towards the pines. Each deliberate footfall echoed louder than Zoe's shallow breaths. Annabeth's heart hammered against her ribs. *Conversation?* Her tactical mind screamed warnings – Artemis's absence confirmed, Zoe broken, Thalia exposed. Madera wasn't just witnessing demigod insignificance. He was exploiting it. And Camp Half-Blood lay utterly unprotected.
He paused beneath the dripping canopy of the first ancient pine, cloak snapping ominously. Without turning, the distorted rasp sliced back towards Bianca di Angelo, curled tightly within Nico's shadow-cloaked embrace. "Daughter of Hades," Madera stated, his voice colder than a tomb's embrace. Bianca flinched violently, her terrified eyes widening impossibly. Nico's shadows coiled tighter, a shield trembling under divine-level malice. "Should she..." Madera's masked head tilted fractionally towards Zoe's prone form guarded by weeping Hunters, "...or her sisters..." The pause was deliberate, heavy with implication of poisoned promises yet unmade. "...offer thee immortality?" His crimson Sharingan-Rinnegan eye gleamed from beneath the spiral mask. "*Reject it.*" The command was absolute, devoid of inflection, yet resonating with millennia of witnessed despair. Bianca whimpered, shaking uncontrollably. "Immortality..." Madera hissed, the distortion twisting the word into something desolate and hollow, "...is but an echo chamber." His gaze swept the frozen tableau – Thalia's shattered defiance, Percy's paralyzed agony, Annabeth's horrified comprehension. "...A cage built... from endless dawns." He pivoted fully back into the forest's embrace, his final words drifting like mist: "...And loneliness... its only true voice." Nico shuddered, clutching Bianca tighter. Thalia stared at Zoe's vacant eyes, a terrifying understanding dawning in her stormy gaze.
Twenty paces deeper, engulfed by looming shadows, Madera halted again. Pine needles rustled softly beneath his sandals. Only the ragged breathing of the group behind him and the distant, relentless roar of the Atlantic penetrated the sudden stillness. His masked head tilted upwards, scanning the dense canopy where Artemis's silver moon *should* have pierced through, but did not. The crimson Sharingan-Rinnegan eye narrowed infinitesimally. The distorted rasp returned, thick with glacial certainty. "Or perhaps..." he mused aloud, his voice carrying unnaturally through the trees. "...Artemis..." The name lingered, twisted by distortion into something alien and mocking. "...is currently occupied?" His masked face angled fractionally back towards the cliff-edge carnage he'd wrought. "...Holding up..." The rasp deepened, dripping icy sarcasm. "...*something heavy*?" Before comprehension could fully register – the weight of the sky? Celestial chains? The fracturing fabric of Olympus itself? – Madera disappeared. Not with a ripple, but instantly, silently. One heartbeat he was beneath the dripping pines; the next, only displaced air marked his passing. The woods swallowed him whole.
A suffocating silence descended, heavy and thick as the mist creeping over Zoe's unnervingly still body. Percy lowered Riptide, his hand trembling violently. Annabeth stared at the empty spot beneath the pines, her grey eyes wide with dawning terror. *Holding up something heavy?* The Titan Atlas's curse echoed in her mind. Thalia Grace slowly sank to her knees beside Zoe Nightshade, ignoring the Hunters' tear-streaked faces. The trapped lightning was gone, replaced only by the chilling echo of Madera's final warning – a truth spoken from unimaginable isolation. Bianca di Angelo stared into Nico's protective shadows, the offer of eternal Huntress sisters forever poisoned by a single, distorted rasp: *Immortality is a cage.* Nico's knuckles whitened on her shoulder, his own nascent power coiled tight against the encroaching dark. Far below, the waves crashed against the unnatural cliff face Madera had sculpted, a mocking reminder that divine laws meant nothing to him. And somewhere unseen, Artemis remained silent.