The Veil of Worlds

Chapter 1: The Gathering Storm

Percy Jackson had seen some strange things in his life. He'd fought gods, monsters, and even titans. He'd been to the Underworld and back, crossed dimensions, and faced the end of the world—twice. But nothing could have prepared him for the sight that greeted him that stormy afternoon on the shores of Long Island.

The sea, usually so familiar, had turned against him.

Waves crashed violently against the cliffs of Camp Half-Blood, far more aggressive than the usual tides. Thunderclouds rolled in fast, heavy with an unnatural weight, and the wind howled like a pack of wolves. Percy stood at the edge of the beach, his sword Riptide in hand, watching the waters churn.

"Percy!" Annabeth called, running down the hill from the Big House, her gray eyes wide with alarm. "It's not stopping, is it?"

"No," Percy said, his voice tight. "This isn't normal. Something's wrong."

As if to punctuate his words, a bolt of lightning cracked the sky, striking dangerously close to the camp's boundaries. The protective barriers shimmered in response, but Percy could tell they were weakening. If this storm continued, even Camp Half-Blood wouldn't be safe.

"Chiron said the gods have gone silent," Annabeth continued, catching her breath. "No word from Olympus, no dreams, nothing. It's like they're... hiding."

Percy frowned. The gods, hiding? The last time they'd gone silent, Kronos had been clawing his way out of Tartarus, ready to destroy the world. The idea of them retreating now made his skin crawl. "They know something we don't."

Annabeth glanced nervously at the storm clouds. "Or something even they can't stop."

Before Percy could respond, a sudden cold swept over the beach. The sea calmed for a moment, almost unnaturally still. The clouds above swirled, forming a dark vortex, and from the center of the storm, a figure emerged.

It was a young man, maybe Percy's age, but with a wildness in his eyes that spoke of something far older. His dark hair whipped around his face, and his clothes were soaked from the storm, but he walked across the water as if it were solid ground. In his hand, he carried a glowing staff, etched with symbols Percy couldn't read but recognized instantly—Norse runes.

"Percy Jackson!" the stranger called out, his voice booming over the wind.

Percy exchanged a glance with Annabeth before stepping forward. "Yeah, that's me. Who are you?"

The young man stopped at the edge of the shore, just before the sand, and raised his staff. "I am Magnus Chase."

Percy blinked. Magnus Chase? Annabeth had mentioned a Chase before—her cousin. But this guy didn't look like the average cousin who lived down the street. He looked like he'd just walked out of a battlefield in Valhalla.

"Annabeth's cousin?" Percy asked, squinting at him.

Magnus gave a tight smile. "Yeah, that one."

Annabeth stepped forward, surprise flickering in her eyes. "Magnus? What are you doing here?"

"I didn't want to be," Magnus replied, his face grim. "But I was sent with a message. Something big is coming—something none of us can face alone."

Percy's heart skipped a beat. He had heard those words before. Too many times.

"The gods are running scared," Magnus continued, pointing his staff toward the swirling clouds. "Ragnarök isn't just a myth anymore. It's starting."

Annabeth's face paled. "Ragnarök? You mean... the end of the world?"

"One version of it," Magnus said. "But it's not just the Norse gods in trouble. Every pantheon is in danger. The Egyptian gods, the Greek, Roman, even the mortals—everyone. The barriers that keep our worlds apart are breaking down. And if they fall..."

Percy felt the ground shift beneath him, not from the storm but from the weight of Magnus's words. He had thought the war with Gaea had been the end of his problems. Now, it seemed, that had been just the beginning.

"What are you saying?" Percy asked slowly. "That we're supposed to do what? Save the world again?"

Magnus didn't answer right away. Instead, he pulled a piece of parchment from his jacket and handed it to Percy. "This is what I was told to deliver."

Percy unfolded the parchment, his eyes scanning the ancient script. He recognized some of the symbols—Greek, Egyptian, Norse—all intertwined in a way that made his head hurt. But the words were clear.

Thou shall unite under one union,
Thou shall fight a common foul,
With Jackson and Chase,
Kane and Grace,
Shall thou succeed, the world shall not perish.
Shall thou fail, Ragnarök shall start.

Percy's stomach dropped. "Kane?" he asked, turning to Annabeth. "As in the Egyptians?"

Annabeth's face was unreadable. "Carter and Sadie Kane."

Percy rubbed his temples, feeling the weight of yet another prophecy. "Great," he muttered. "Another end-of-the-world mission. Just what I needed."

Magnus crossed his arms. "It's worse than you think. This isn't just some god getting angry or another Titan trying to rise. This is everything. The duat, the mist, the gods—there's no more hiding. Whatever's coming, it's going to tear the veil between the worlds wide open."

Percy let out a breath. He had fought a lot of battles in his life, but this felt different. This wasn't just about gods and monsters anymore. It was about everything—mortals, gods, magic, and the worlds they came from.

"Okay," he said after a moment, slipping Riptide back into his pocket. "So where do we start?"

Magnus's eyes flickered with a strange mix of hope and dread. "We start by finding the others. Carter and Sadie are already on their way, and I've heard whispers that Jason—"

Percy's heart skipped a beat at the name. Jason Grace. The last time he'd seen his friend... Percy pushed the thought away. There was no time for hesitation now.

"Right," Percy said. "We gather the team, then we figure out how to stop the world from ending. Again."

"Sounds simple enough," Magnus muttered, a ghost of a grin on his face.

But as the storm raged on, Percy knew one thing for certain—this time, the stakes were higher than ever. And if they failed, it wasn't just one world that would fall.

It would be all of them.