Agather130
He staggered through the mud-choked jungle, lungs burning, each breath dragged in as if he were drowning on dry land. He had left the tavern looking like a drunk in search of water; now he clung to the rough bark of the trees just to stay upright, fingers digging in as he fought to steady himself. Slowly, painfully, his strength returned-along with something far worse. His senses sharpened. The jungle went silent.
Footsteps.
Light. Deliberate. Female.
He froze.
The air itself seemed to tighten, thick as water around his throat. He listened in horror as the sound drew nearer, impossibly clear, as if she were already standing behind him. Panic clawed up his spine. His heart hammered so loudly he was certain it would give him away, echoing through the trees like a drum summoning executioners.
Run.
His body refused.
Time was up.
He tried to pray, but what god would listen now? Betrayal sat like a stone in his chest, heavy and irreversible. Maybe fate would forgive him. Maybe not. Knowing them, they had grown bored. They would want a new toy.
Still... if this was how it ended, he would face it standing.
He straightened, jaw set. Whatever came through those trees would not see him beg.
He was the last one still breathing.
Child of Hestia and Hades. Son of the sea. Prince of the Seven Seas. The boy who had fought gods-and survived. Death's own companion. A survivor carved out of storms and stubbornness.
Badass didn't even begin to cover it.
He was Percy Jackson.
Percy. Fucking. Jackson.