Legends Never Die

Battle For the Moon (Part Two)

Perseus' first swing was blocked as the Primordial materialized a blazing white sword. 'Good,' Perseus thought. 'He went with a sword. I have advantage of reach and technique.' With that, he twirled the scythe and swung it like a bat, forcing the Primordial to use two hands. In an awkward move, Percy twisted the scythe in his hand, hooking the blade around the primordial's sword, and yanked.

The sword came out of his grasp and Percy hopped backwards. The primordial's eye twitched in annoyance. "Stop toying with me!" he shouted. "Fight me fair and square!"

"I am. I just know how to disarm you. I could have attacked immediately if you had wanted me to?"

The primordial growled and lunged for the blade...and landed squarely on one of the traps Percy had placed. The blade glowed bright hot and he clutched his hand hissing. He glared at Percy with hatred. "This is fair to you?"

"Oh, I never said I would fight fair, just that I had been up until now. I have every intention of winning this fight, and will use whatever means necessary to do so. I've brought down entire pantheons with these hands. Do you truly think that I would not do something to give me an advantage?"

He scowled. "Fine. If you think you're the only one who thought of something like this...how about I give you a taste of a similar medicine."

"What? Similar medicine? You mean 'A taste of your own medicine?' Come on. If you're going to use a cliche like that, at least do it right."

"Whatever! Here, let's have a fantastic reunion!" He gestured and a few people appeared.

Percy's eyes widened. "What is this? WHAT IS THIS?" he shouted his question. In front of him was his old team. The same team that he'd brought about the end to not one or two, but three entire pantheons and many other gods to boot. All of whom should be very dead, two of them by his own hand after they had gone insane. In total, there were twenty-five people besides the primordial in front of him.

"Percy?" Percy's eyes clouded as a woman stepped forward. His former master...and lover. Artemis had thought him a pure man, but she had been wrong. He'd had a love after Annabeth. Zania. The only one who gave him a challenge in combat. He'd learned a lot from her. And they'd quickly become inseparable in and out of combat. Until...until Asura.

"This is the evil god? He's one of us."

"Really? One of you? What if I told you he's the reason all of you are dead? He watched as your Master here was killed by Asura, then he lead the survivors on a hell bent path of destruction. And, just when you all needed him, he left."

The others looked at Perseus. While it wasn't the whole truth, it wasn't a lie. "He's not lying. He's not saying everything...but he isn't lying. My actions got most of you killed. I can't deny that. But I'm not an evil god. I'm still mortal."

"He is the embodiment of Wrath. The mortal Sin that must have war. Ever since he was born, wars have broken out around him. His go to fix for anything that goes wrong is to fight. He solves all his issues this way."

"Says a lot for you, considering you came down from the moon to kill two gods, just as you did in the past. You truly think you can turn my own team against me?" Percy snarled.

Zania stared forlornly at Percy. "If you are indeed the embodiment of Wrath, then yes, we will have to turn on you...my love." The hurt in her voice almost tangible.

Percy's eyes showed pain and hurt before hardening. "So you're going to overlook the fact that this god next to you is not only psychotic, but he breaks the laws of nature to resurrect all of you to fight me? That's how its going to be?" he sneered. They were dead. They needed to stay that way or he'd lose himself. "I won't let the dead interfere with this, no matter who they were to me. This is not who you are. I will always hold you all dear to me in my heart, but if I have to eliminate you all and send you back to Hades, then so be it."

Summoning the power from Wrath, Lucius, and Belroth together, he seemed to shift. Now, in front of them, was a taller, demonic version of Percy, with what looked like dragon scales covering his visible vulnerable points and pitch black dragon wings. He had curled horns, similar to a ram's, coming out of the top of his forehead. The air around him seemed to hum with power and magic. There was a nasty sneer on his face and he swept his scythe in front him.

The air shimmered and a blade of magic shot across, cutting most of the reanimated teammates in half, causing them to shimmer and disappear. "You made me do this. Do not forget that. As soon as I'm done with returning them to their peace, I'm going to make things hell for you," he growled out at the primordial.

With that, the other members, the more skilled ones, quickly fell into the typical battle formation they all knew, with Zania at point. Percy knew this though, and smashed the ground, causing a fissure and throwing them all off balance. In the blink of an eye he was before them and they all burst into nothingness. All but Zania. Somehow she had dodged the attack aimed for her.

"Ah...well, you see, the others were mirages. She's all real though. I made a deal with another being and got her into my service. Oh she wasn't happy at all. But my brand on her back forces her to do my bidding. Regardless of how she truly feels, she will do as I say. And she already has orders to kill you. You two know each other so much. It'll be amusing to watch you fight each other. No matter who win-" the primordial was walking and talking offhandedly, as if he intended to leave.

He didn't expect Percy to completely ignore Zania and go straight for him. "You let down your guard you stupid idiot. I've been waiting for this moment since you appeared. I knew a few traps and tricks would still not allow me an opening, but you got over confident!" Percy said, swinging the scythe. It bit deep into the primordial, who shuddered and screamed.

Percy turned to block the impending attack, but it was inevitable. Just as the Cauldron of Fate had shown, Zania's dagger pierced his neck, his vital lifeblood held in by the solid steal. A sad smile shown on his face and he pressed a hand to her sternum. A brilliant red light flared through her and she gasped, coughing up blood. Jerking back, her body unconsciously tried to escape the thing causing her pain. In doing so, she ripped the blade from his neck and that blood came pouring out like a fountain.

No matter how hard you fight fate, no matter how fast you run, it is inevitable. No matter how many times you cheat death, he is the one person who will always get his due eventually. The inevitability of these two things should bring despair, but mortals continue struggling on despite these, and this is what drives Western Civilization.