Atropos tilted her head, her scissors gleaming like they'd already decided something Percy hadn't agreed to yet. "Godhood-Persephone Jackson, this mortal vessel of yours can no longer hold you." Atropos continued, her voice like the soft snip of a thread being severed. "It is time for you to ascend." Percy stiffened, her grip tightening on Riptide until her knuckles turned white. She wasn't about to let these three play with her life like some kind of pawn. She'd seen too much to trust any offer from the gods-let alone the Fates, who had a habit of screwing people over with their so-called "choices." "I'm not interested," Percy shot back, a defiant fire in her eyes. "Just let me die in peace, after everything I was put through the least you could do is let me see my family again." "So that is the issue..." The three sisters looked between one another as Lachesis came forward. "So in order to fix that..." Before she could ask what that meant, the world shifted. The sand disappeared from beneath her feet. The sky folded in on itself, stars falling like rain, and the sea roared in her ears. She fell.

"Okay," "Okay?" Percy nodded, her chest swelling with a mix of disbelief and something else-something like hope, like the beginning of something new. "Yes," She said, her voice growing firmer, the decision settling in her heart. "I'll marry you, Chaos. But on one condition." Chaos raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "And what might that be?" "That you never make me feel like I'm the same person the gods threw away. That I'm not just your partner-I'm your equal," Percy said, her voice unwavering. "That is a promise," Chaos said, his tone sincere, his smile widening. "From now until the end of time, Percy Jackson."

She leaned back in her rocking chair and closed her eyes, allowing herself to bath in the warm light of the sun which shone through the window wishing to rest for even a bit before she had to leave to complete her job. However, she didn't anticipate for that person to make it's appearance in her mind. To the very present, she remembered well the events which had taken place so many years into the past. Eva Russell, daughter of Nike. Her replacement. It was strange, really. However, she had a lot to thank her for. Because in the end, it was Eva Russell who had revealed the true colours of the comrades and friends whom she had considered family. They left her, believed the lies and helped her spread them.