Dishonored

Agony, it was the only thing he felt when it had happened. It consumed his very being. The veins in his body had been instantly annihilated, his bones shattered and broken, turned to nothing more than dust. It should have been a quick death, and yet he cruelly felt everything as the lightning coursed through his body, eviscerating flesh and breaking him down to not even the smallest of particles.

Percy Jackson was no longer, and yet he was. It should have been impossible for a mere mortal to withstand the might of a god, but there he was, at the edge of the abyss.

A torrent of emotions swept through him. He felt betrayed by those he loved, by the people he had done so much for. Everything he had done for them, and yet at the end…they put him to death.

How had it come to this? The war was won, Olympus and the gods had prevailed, the enemy had been extinguished, so just why did it have to be this way? How could the heavens be so cruel?

How could they think me a traitor? After all he had done, all he had sacrificed, the Pantheon so easily put him to death! Only a few had refused to vote, his Father, God of the Sea, Artemis, Goddess of the Hunt, and the Goddess Hestia, but even then…

Maybe the Gods just wanted you dead, maybe they feared you getting too powerful Percy, you always were a rebel, and the Gods would not stand for insubordination, not even from you...

Maybe they were just angling for an excuse... something that they could use that wouldn't need evidence, only an accuser, but who? Who would point the finger at him and take the fall if they found him not at fault?

Maybe no one... they wouldn't need to use anybody if they wanted you dead...you saw it yourself, how easily they accused you. Laws do not apply to those with absolute power.

Before Perseus could even defend himself, Zeus had struck him with all his might, obliterating his body instantly. What had truly hurt Percy the most was that his own friends so easily believed him to be a traitor, his own girlfriend, the one he thought would be on his side, the one he thought would defend him! Percy still remembered the look on her face, there was no doubt, no hesitation within her eyes, or on any of those who voted for his death, only a look of disgust and contempt as they sneered.

Hatred, it wasn't an unfamiliar emotion, but it wasn't one he knew well, not until now. It coursed through his very soul, and devoured each and every one of his thoughts. In this death-defying moment, he promised to himself that if he was given a chance, he would never be so helpless again in the face of power, to never again follow the will of heaven!

Percy was a kind person. Time and time again he risked all for those he loved. In his eyes, there were good people and bad. A light and darkness. Only now did he see how naïve that was! So what if he was a good person? In the eyes of the strong, values such as kindness and honor hold no meaning.

Did they even care? Perhaps in their eyes, I was just a tool. A willing one…

Percy's mind fell silent, his thoughts scattered for a moment as a tinge of fear coursed through him, growing larger and stronger as he came to a cruel realization. At this point, everything was unknown. He couldn't see for he no longer had eyes, he couldn't move for he no longer had limbs. The once familiar beat of his heart was now foreign, a thing of the past.

Before he could truly panic from this realization, his hatred, like a torrent of cold water pouring over him, completely washed away his fear. Fear turned into hate, sadness turned into hate, and the open wound of dishonor from all turned into hatred.

Perseus didn't know whether he should bitterly laugh or cry. It wasn't his enemies that had taken everything from him, but his own people! His achievements, his honor, his pride, everything was tarnished, buried under the brand of traitor.

XxX

Time was merciless. In the end, all things were drowned in its river, forever to be forgotten and lost.

As he slumbered, Percy was unaware that extraordinary things were happening to him, and only when he awoke did he notice. By the time he had realized it, the beat of the heart, the pulse of life, and the heave of the chest were already present. One by one his senses came to him, like a long-lost friend finally coming back once more for old times sake.

A myriad of emotions ran amok inside of him, emotions he had forgotten. Excitement, happiness, relief, all for the simplest of things.

Taking in a deep breath of fresh air, Percy relished in the sensation. A simple action, breathing, but only when it had been taken from him did he now realize how precious it was, how the simplest of things were.

Rain, it poured down onto him. He wished it could take his pain away with it, along with the past, but alas, some things couldn't be swept away, no matter how much one wished it so.

Only when he was content from basking in these long-forgotten sensations did he finally open his eyes, and from them came a chilling gaze, one that spoke louder than any words ever could. This cold gaze could make the world tremble, and under his brilliance both gods and devils would feel their soul scattering about. His gaze gave off the feeling that he encompassed all, that nothing was hidden from his eyes.

Though there was a bit of disorientation in the beginning, it quickly cleared up, giving way to excellent eye-sight and perception. To his amazement, he could see every individual drop of rain as they poured out from the sky.

The Percy then was no longer, in the end, he too was devoured by the rivers of time, but not drowned…but rather refined and sharpened.

Perseus's first reaction from regaining his body was to move, but to his disappointment, his body refused to comply to his will. His arms and legs felt heavy, with the beat of his heart feeling heavy and oppressive.

Rather than persisting, Perseus instead relaxed himself and once again basked in the cool feeling of the rain. His body was new, and it would take some time to adjust and get a feel for it. Right now, he was like a baby, after so long he had forgotten how to walk and speak, so he must learn once more.

He didn't know how long he had spent within the abyss, perhaps eons, maybe even longer, but after so long, he had gained many virtuous qualities that he didn't have beforehand. Along with them, he now held the patience of stone and the will of stars.

In the beginning, Perseus had wallowed in his hatred, his sadness and anger a fuel for it to burn brighter and stronger, and not even the river of time could sweep it away. He didn't know how long it had taken, but in the end he learned to refine his hatred, to make it a weapon to wield… should the impossible ever happen.

XxX

After some time had passed and the rain had become but a light drizzle, Percy decided that he had rested enough.

Tentatively moving his fingers and toes, a wry smile appeared on his face. Right now, he was feeble, far from what he had been after the war…however long ago that was.

Slowly but surely, he picked himself up and sat limply, his body too weak to sit up straight. Just this small action alone had him winded, gasping for more air.

Looking around, Percy was amused to see a sheathed sword in front of him. What amused him most about it was that it reminded him of the past, more importantly, Riptide, though the two swords were nothing alike in terms of appearance.

The sword before him was too daunting. Despite being sheathed, it gave off a killing intent that thirsted for all things its master deemed unworthy of life. Unbeknownst to him, Percy inched closer and closer to the imposing blade, its appearance beseechingly beckoning him to claim it.

With a feeble outstretched hand, he took hold of the sword, its oppressive weight making his two arms shudder and tremble. Putting a hand on the handle, he used the weapon to drag himself up from his slumped position.

And like this, he used such an imposing sword for a staff until he could adapt to his new body. Percy took frail steps as he traveled forward, to where he did not know. With every couple of steps he took, he would fall, but each time he would rise back up with the help of the sword, becoming a routine to both rise and fall.

Gradually it took longer for him to drop, and less time to get back up from his knees. His steps became less feeble with time, and before long he could take large strides. His hunched back grew straighter as he relied less and less on the sword in his hand.

Percy grinned, his hand tightened around the sword as a cold glint appeared in his eye.

Finally…


A/N: After so long, I have returned to this story. This chapter took a bit longer to make than expected since I had to change up a lot for the new plot. I'll be deleting the other two chapters and will replace the first one with this one.