Heroes of New York

EIGHTEEN - DREAM

Chapter Eighteen

~Percy Jackson~

Normally, I wouldn't sleep around strangers. That was just something you pick up, having to fight for your life for literal years.

But I was tired.

I hadn't slept much last night after the whole Hulk Incident. The situation was just too weird for me to sleep after. I'd messaged a number of contacts about it (including Annabeth, of course), but no one had any good answers yet.

Also, for the first time in my life, I was kind of hoping for some of those fancy prophetic demigod dreams. At least then I'd know a little more about the situation, even if the whole thing would be terrifying and (likely) traumatic.

As it was, I fell asleep pretty quickly. And whether fortunate or not, I had a dream.

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I was standing in a large empty room the size of a warehouse, completely dark except for the bonfire in the centre (which could not be good for air quality). Somehow I could tell I was underground.

Standing by the bonfire was a humanoid shape - I'd say human, but I have too much experience with gods and monsters with human forms to expect anything else. The figure was crouched by the fire, staring into flames and muttering to themself.

"Soon, soon, soon," came the voice. It sounded male, but honestly who can tell with gods? Gender is a social construct anyway. "Soon all the world will see. They'll see what I want them to see, for once they will do my bidding! No more minor god."

I was grateful for the insane rambling. It certainly narrowed down the options on who the villain of the week would be - a minor god, some kind of servant, uses illusions. Probably Greek, given the writing on the inside of the coffee tin.

Suddenly the figure stiffened, and turned to look directly at me.

Uh oh, I thought, this never ends well. I was regretting my hope for demigod dreams just a teeny bit, now.

"Perseus Jackson," the god hissed. "You and your friends may have struck down my brothers and sisters before me, but I have an advantage. Yes, halfblood, I have one of your own. Replaced by an illusion so perfect, you won't find out who until it is far too late!"

The god's grin was sharp and manic and I had only the briefest of moments to wonder who might be a fake (it could be anyone, really, and despite having read all their files, i didn't know most of the Avengers team well enough to figure out if something was off about them) before the god lunged at me. With my feet stuck to the ground, I could only stand frozen as a clawed hand swiped through my dream form, dissipating my consciousness like mist.

☤ ☤ ☤ ☤

I could tell I was still dreaming when I reformed, because I was standing on the golden steps of an Asgardian palace.

I'd never personally been to Asgard, but I had seen it before in the background of Iris Messages to Chiron, and once in another dream from that time I met a Norse deity (long story?).

And it seemed I was about to meet another.

In front of me stood a tall, dark-skinned man (?) with golden eyes and matching golden armour. He was holding a gigantic sword and staring stoically forward.

"Perseus Jackson." Again, ugh, why do they always have to use my full name? "I am Heimdall, Watchman of the Gods and Gatekeeper of Asgard."

So I was right about them being a man, good - when someone can kill you without blinking, you never want to get their pronouns wrong (not that you should ever use the wrong pronouns for someone unless they ask you to). Anyway, Heimdall was a god I knew a little bit about. He was arguably the most important Norse god, given that he was their guardian and could see and hear pretty much everything. Annabeth had talked about the guy at length, especially once we met the Romans and had to start theorizing about other pantheons.