To Swear On Styx

Chapter Fourteen: Update: I'm Still Afraid of Tartarus (The Guy)

Playlist Part Fourteen:

Arrival - Hans Zimmer

~*~

The weeks passed. Percy floated through them, detached and indifferent as the Titans slowly spread their influence across North America. He spent a lot of his time either training or sleeping, trying and failing to keep his mind empty.

Nothing and everything was changing all at once, and it left Percy terrified. He'd never wanted this- to be immortal, to be here, away from his friends. To have the power to destroy. The yawning, chasmic gap of his never-ending life spread out before him, and it scared him beyond anything else. The idea that he'd be alive forever, that he'd watch everything he knew wither up and die, that, one day, he'd be here when the sun exploded and the galaxy disintegrated left him shaking and numb.

All he wanted was his mom. His friends. Annabeth. He wanted to hold them and cry against their shoulders, to breathe in their familiar, comforting presences. He knew he couldn't do this forever. He was never meant to live as long as he was going to. It wasn't right, it wasn't natural, he wasn't cut out for this.

The taunting things his mind whispered to him, alongside those cursed dreams Morpheus wove from the threads of Kronos' memories, weren't helping in the slightest.

Percy's new fears left him quiet and drained. Even when Hyperion and Perses tried to get a rouse out of him, Percy'd just sit there, blinking, his mind hundreds of miles away.

"You finally broke him," the Titan of the East commented, his eyes wide in amazement during one meeting in the war room. "I'll be honest, I was losing faith in you, brother."

Kronos scowled, his gaze flashing over to Percy before again settling on Hyperion. "He's not broken," the Titan King snipped. "Far from it."

Tiredly, Percy turned his gaze to Hyperion, resting his chin on the palm of his hand. "Was that the whole plan?" He asked, his voice bland. "To take a stupid demigod, and wear them down into a miserable, helpless, fucking useless husk at your beck and call? That's the only reason why I'm here?"

"...Obviously," Hyperion grunted, studiously ignoring the sharp look his youngest brother shot him from the head of the table. "And I think it's sent a lovely sort of message to your precious friends and the Olympians alike."

Percy didn't even bother replying. He just stared down at his hands, clasped loosely in his lap. His hands that could rip apart the world, like Kronos'd shown him. That could kill people with the slightest twitch. He curled them into fists, not wanting to look at them.

To his left, Kronos let out a sharp breath, the air hissing from between his teeth. "Hyperion, this is irrelevant. Be quiet."

Hyperion arched an eyebrow in response, crossing his arms with a sour look on his face. "Is it?" He questioned. "I'd've thought this to be a cause for celebration? You know, a parade around that wretched camp with their broken hero? A last hurrah?"

Kronos shot up, his face twisted with wrath. "I am your King. If I tell you to be quiet, I expect silence. Now, shut up." His golden eyes blazed, his aura seeping out from him in heavy waves, and Hyperion gritted his teeth, his eyes thin reddish slits.

"...Fine," he grunted, slouching down in his chair.

Percy watched on impassively, just wanting to go back to bed and sleep. Around him, the Titans were throwing him odd looks, like they'd just realized something, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. Rather, he pointedly ignored his surroundings, pushed himself out of his seat once the meeting had finished and all but sleepwalked back to his and Kronos' chambers.