ꜱᴘɪᴅᴇʀ ʙɪᴛᴇꜱ: ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴄᴀʙᴇᴛʜ/ꜱᴏʟᴀɴɢᴇʟᴏ ᴘʀᴏᴊᴇᴄᴛ

ʟɪɪɪ ᴀɴɴᴀʙᴇᴛʜ | ᴀ ʙʟᴀꜱᴛ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀꜱᴛ

"Back for more, Babe?" Marty McFly asks, placing an expert kick to Annabeth's gut.

She cries out in pain. Damn, what is it with this guy and her gut?

And he's wearing her Yankees cap.

She's not mad about that per se. It doesn't even turn her invisible anymore; it hasn't done that in years. She doesn't care about how that punishment from Athena completely exposed her. She had felt so vulnerable at the time, but that doesn't matter now. Annabeth doesn't care that it's the only thing she has left of her mother, who essentially disowned her.

She doesn't care that it's a stupid hat with a weird stain on its flattened brim, or that people seem to assume things about her when she wears it.

Anyway, there's no time to contemplate that; it's time for a fight.

"What the fuck, man?" Annabeth shouts.

She scrambles to her feet, retrieving her chopsticks, golden hair cascading down her shoulders and back.

"No need for dramatics," Marty teases. "Besides, it makes you look like a-"

"Fuck you!" she shouts before he can call her... that.

They run at each other.

He looks insane. His eyes are glowing, despite them being brown before, and he's practically frothing at the mouth. Did he look like this the night they met?

Annabeth begins to wonder if she would have slept with him in the first place had she been sober. She hates herself for enjoying the sex.

Chopsticks aren't the most effective weapon against Marty's short double-edged blade. If she still had her Drakon bone sword, she'd be winning with ease.

But that's not happening, now, is it? Because Annabeth's got her chopsticks in a criss-cross, trying to disarm somebody who saw her naked. This isn't working.

She drops to the ground and lays a kick to Marty's shins, sending him flat into the fake grass next to her.

Annabeth wants to force herself back to her feet, but something's definitely up with her ankle.

Marty's back in action before she can even come up with another insult.

"Oh, shit!" She ducks and Marty McFly's sword clammers against the Dutch windmill.

She's gotta get that sword, so she takes the pain and runs towards the discarded weapon.

Marty laughs like a real villain. "You didn't think it would be so easy now did it?" He holds up a small jar, its contents bright and green. Greek fire.

Before Annabeth can react, the jar collides with the windmill, and glass shards spill onto her face, surely leaving cuts.

Flames erupt around her, and the smoke affects her instantly. Not to mention she's still got a dud ankle.

C'mon, get back up again. Walk it off!

"Well, well..." says Marty. "What a shame. I supposed you'll be dead soon. I was truly hoping you'd stick around to see my plan succeed."

Annabeth has a feeling she's going to be worse than drugged this time.

Marty continues his evil monologue: "Thanks to my alliance with Pothos, you've been too clouded to see what's going on around you."

Annabeth can't believe she slept with this guy.

"Ahaha... I've been working on this plan for the past ten years! You see, that's when I got my perfect opportunity. The daughter of Athena would never notice my plan when she's got time for more... fun things, shall we say?"