Everyone in the throne room gave him a wide berth. An expression of nothing marred his worn and dirtied face. There was an ocean of unbridled power teeming within him, a vicious and unrelenting storm awaiting to be unleashed upon those unfortunate to be caught in his crosshairs, a rumbling of authority, confidence and stoic resolve with every step. And while there was a veritable stampede walking towards the throne room, his quiet, meek and injured stride seemed to echo over everyone else's combined in the hallowed and divine halls of Olympus.

All of it a mask for his true emotions.

He stood numbly in the throne room as did everyone else but there seemed to be some sort of uncaring ambience about him that clung to no one else, not even Hades or Thanatos expressed such an…empty aura.

Those that were standing nearby him as he watch the King of the Gods deliver a speech, observed just how devoid of life his eyes seemed to have, no matter the sea green irises that were glowing with hardly contained power.

And while he was just one of everyone that had lost someone or something in the war with Gaea, he truly lost everything.

Of the chosen Seven, only he survived.

Of his mortal family, only he lived to carry their legacy.

And only Perseus Jackson stood against Gaea in the moments she had awoken and subsequently forced into the Void.

Had it not been the support of the pair of crutches he was given when he was recovered, he would've crumpled to the ground in exhaustion.

Even then his eyes and mind were glued to a far distance, not truly seeing anything nor truly comprehending anything happening in that moment. For him the booming and thundering voice of Zeus praising him and his actions was naught but a whisper in his minds and a fickle and weak one at that.

Percy's own breastplate was battle scarred and partially melted, blackened across the chest where a Draken had scorched it, it was covered in grim and mud. His pants and shirt was torn in several places, both damp with water and blood. His usual unruly and windswept hair clung to his head with sweat. His chest was heaving in labor even if he had made an unconscious attempt at taking measured and even breaths.

His state was not that different from any others that were in throne room of Olympus, but where his emotions were bottled and left an emptiness about him, everyone else expressed their relief with joyous crying, cheers and acts of both comradery and affection were shared.

"Perseus Jackson!" Zeus' voice boomed and everyone quieted down.

Percy's haze filled mind returned to the present, to him everything slowed as his battle hardened instincts overran his previously lucid state. In that moment, he took in everything, the Olympians sitting upon their thrones in tired but noble postures, their weapons of power either gripped in their hands or casually leaning against their thrones.

His eyes had flicked across the expanse of the enlarged throne room and even if was a split second scan, his mind worked overtime to take in every aspect of it. Exhausted, injured but expressions of hope, relief and even happiness had adorned the faces of those that had fought those final battles across the fields in Olympus' shadow.

He even noted the dozens of Greek Fire torches that lined the walls of the throne room.

"Perseus?" The voice of Poseidon questioned. For the mortals within the throne room, there was no delay between Zeus calling for the Savior of Olympus and Poseidon's addressing his favored son.

But for the immortals that were the Olympians, they had noticed the flash of ferocity and wildness in the eyes of the demigod that had saved them, a slight glimpse as a pulse of green emanated from his eyes.

To the mortals, it had not even occurred but for the Olympians it lasted an eternity.

It was gone long before those around him could even comprehend that Percy had been addressed by the King of the Gods and replaced by a more neutral and stony expression by the time his father had addressed his son.

The Son of Poseidon stepped forward, using the wooden crutches to ease himself onto one of his armored legs, his knuckles white as one of his hands continued to hold onto the aids the other clenched into a fist as he set his bare knuckles onto the polished marble floor.

To the observant eye, there was blood still trickling onto the floor.

"Perseus Jackson." Zeus' voice seemed to have lost its boisterousness as it was replaced with a touch of concern. There was a pregnant pause before the last goddess anyone would have suspected to speak did so.

"Your actions have time and time again saved not only us but the mortal world from certain destruction, that much is clear. I believe I speak for everyone here that you have our eternal gratitude and that if there is ever a debt that could never be fully compensated, it is this one." One could hear a pin drop as Hera spoke instead of her husband. Her voiced laden with concern, hope and sincerity. "You, yourself have taught us that in the battlefield there is an equality among everyone be they immortal or not. You've taught me that grudges and jealousy towards the heroes that protect us is misplaced and entirely unwarranted."

Whether Percy cared for her words was up for debate as he kept his head bowed and his gaze locked onto his own reflection that was on the floor.

Zeus continued and no one deemed it necessary to rebuke nor comment on Perseus' lack of acknowledgement. "For your actions and your stand against Gaea, herself, we are prepared to offer you something no other has ever been offered before. We offer you an opportunity to become immortal and a seat upon the Olympian Council."

There was an unnerving silence as everyone waited for his answer. In a single fluid movement, the gaze of sea green met the Zeus' on even ground.

"No." Percy declared, his voice unwavering and echoed across the hall eliciting gasps and murmuring from those within the crowd and small upturning of lips from the Olympians. "I do, however, have several requests from the Council."

"Of course, on the River Styx we swear that if it is within our power they shall be granted." Zeus declared his with thunder reinforcing his statement and it brought a smile to the face of the King of the Gods.

Percy did not return it.

His face was set in a stormy expression. "The innocent Titans of the last war have still not been freed from their imprisonments."

Zeus ran an embarrassed hand through his immaculate beard as he turned towards the Sun God. "Apollo, if you would be so kind."

Apollo flashed a smile before…well flashing away. "While we await his return we will continue to hear your requests."

Perseus' stormy and determined expression did not waver. "Hestia and Hades have both played vital parts in this war and the previous without whom we would have lost, I respectfully ask that they be granted permanent seats upon the Council."

It was Hera who nodded this time and Poseidon who granted the request. With a stamp of his trident, two ornate thrones, themed with their respective realms of influence as well as their titles. Both newly christened Olympians gave him smiles in thanks.

Percy did not return them and his head returned to stare at the floor with a lifeless gaze.

He did not know when the festivities began nor did he particularly care. He simply wanted rest. He wandered the halls of Olympus, attempting to avoid the majority of the party as everyone that encountered him wanted to congratulate him in some way.

He paid no heed to them. He didn't want to, their congratulations brought up too many horrors from the battlefield.

He was there when they all died. When his family died.

He and Jason were leading a shield line against a legion of Telekhines, he was hit in the neck by a lucky arrow. Percy held his bleeding neck in an attempt to stem the blood flow and consoled him as he laid a gasping and sputtering death by drowning in his own blood.

Piper had been next. In a rage filled state, Percy had found her attempting to take on a couple of Empousai with her dagger. Like the previous owner of the dagger, her stupidity got her killed. An empousai had entrapped her before he could reach them and had already run her through with a spear. He had carried her body back to friendly lines before he left again.

This time he found Thalia and the two of her most trusted Hunters, Phoebe and Atalanta. They were fighting an Earth-born. Like Piper before her, he was too late. Too slow. The position was overrun before Percy could fully process what was happening. Thalia had thrusted Aegis into his arms and told him to run before he was surrounded and killed as well or worse taken hostage and forced to awaken Gaea. A wounded Atalanta covered his and Phoebe's escape and in a suicidal attack had detonated a pack of Greek Fire jars before she too died.

Leo was shot down by Prophoryion aboard the Argo II in beginning of the battle along with about twenty other children of both Vulcan and Hephaestus, no one survived the ensuing explosion that engulfed a portion of the monster army.

Hazel was devasted when Frank was assassinated by an enemy demigod. His log and tent burnt to ash. Nothing remained of him and Hazel had been heartbroken, Percy attempted to console his cousin but she left camp in an angry stomp. Nico had reported an hour later that he felt her soul pass to the Underworld, no one knew how she died. Not Hades, Pluto nor Nico. Her body wasn't ever found.

Nico had fought alongside a legion of undead soldiers along with dozens of satyrs and nature sprits against a mounting Earthborn threat in the caves the pocketed the mountains of Greece. They had held the line and had even driven the offensive back. Nico returned to the camp on a stretcher. Percy had been with him after he had led the main offensive and gained large swaths of territory. The two played Myth O' Magic until he had passed from his wounds.

The last was Annabeth, his heart shattered as he thought of her demise. He didn't know how she got captured. He only knew that she was and that she was the catalyst to awaken Gaea. His mind was black, and blood filled as he fought his way towards, the heart of Gaea's army. That was the last day of the war. The make or break for the Olympians, Giants and Olympians were fighting for their lives. Those loyal to Olympus fought with renewed vigor as Percy led a one man offensive into the lines of the Gigantes, using his momentum and the massive gash he created to send the monster army in a frenzied rout.

He didn't know how he got there, but he held Annabeth's lifeless body close to him as he cried the last of his tears for her. Gaea's earthy form began moving and coalescing and he would always remember the parting words for his beloved. This is for you, Wise Girl.

Percy's mind blanked.

The son of Poseidon, blinked once, then twice as he realized that he had found himself sitting upon a wooden oak polished bench on Olympus overlooking the city of Manhattan. It was still dark but he could see the faint orangeness and redness of the rising sun.

"What are you going to do now?" A small meek voice asked, he recognized it as Artemis'.

He didn't move a muscle to acknowledge her that an Olympian of her caliber should be due.

"I don't know." Percy finally said, his voice was hollow, and void of empathy. "I have done my part. My destiny met. Perhaps I'll travel. Perhaps I'll train."

There was an ominous pause as a weariness took hold of him. His shoulders sagged as stress seemed to leave his body.

"Perhaps, I'll just sit here," Percy paused and chuckled, it was devoid of humor though. "And watch the sun rise on a grateful and innocent world." He let that sentence hang as both he and Artemis watched the sun rise slowly on Manhattan.