✩ ━━━ chapter seventeen, in the embers. ❝Compete against the stars, with all of our hearts, until our temporary brilliance turns to ash.❞

MIDTOWN WAS A WAR ZONE. On Blackjack's back, Percy flew over the chaotic scene, taking in the destruction and chaos below. Buildings lay in ruins, overshadowed by towering giants tearing through the trees of Bryant Park. As flames engulfed the overturned cars, an ominous glow illuminated the bronze statues engaged in a fierce battle against Hellhounds. In every direction, campers fought against Kronos' army, their weapons glinting in the flickering light of the Greek fire. The sound of battle cries and clashing metal filled the air, arrows whistling through the air, drowning out any other noise.

With a vicious rhythm, Blackjack's wings beat relentlessly, propelling them farther south. Urgency and a sense of triumph fueled their forward momentum as the wind tore wildly at his hair. Percy could feel the pounding of his heart within his chest, a steady reminder of the adrenaline coursing through his veins. In all honesty, he didn't help much against Hyperion; by the time Percy subdued the Clazmonian Sow, Attis, a minor god praised for his mastery over vegetation, and Caerus, a minor god of good fortune and fortunate circumstances, had managed to ensnare the Titan within the branches of a maple tree. The Titan only needed to be held still in his own personal hurricane to dampen his heat long enough for the gods to strike, which, as of that moment, Percy has learned he can do. Assisted by the woodland magic of satyrs and nymphs, their combined efforts proved devastating to Hyperion's army, reducing their numbers with each passing moment.

The preceding hours blended together in a haze. Percy fought at a pace he had never experienced before—hordes of dracaenae and telkhines fell by the dozens, empousai met their end at his hands, and enemy demigods were left unconscious on the ground for the prowling Hellhounds to drag them away to Micah's hideout. The battle seemed never-ending, but Percy felt confident; with each passing moment, the weight of responsibility seemed to lessen.

Several streets down from Central Park, Blackjack slowed down at the Rockefeller Center, descending to where a group of demigods were waiting for them. Percy recognized Annabeth, Grover, and Thalia among them. As he approached them, he couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over him. With the leadership of Hypnos and the help of the minor gods, they were able to push back the enemy and secure their position without losing any of their own.

"Percy!" Annabeth shouted happily as she ran towards him, throwing her arms around his neck. "We are doing it! We are holding them back!" Percy grinned, taking a moment to catch his breath and survey their surroundings as the moon began to rise in the sky. The battle was far from over, but for now, they had managed to hold their ground and keep the enemy at bay. As they regrouped and prepared for the next wave of attacks, he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride in what they had accomplished so far.

"Yeah!" Grover cheered, pumping his fist in the air. "Didja see the satyrs and nymphs take down Hyperion, Perce? Wasn't it sick?" The son of Poseidon laughed at his best friend's excitement, replying, "I did, man! We seriously couldn't have pulled it off without you guys."

Thalia lightly patted his shoulder. Her jacket was smeared in grime and monster dust, but she wore a small smile of satisfaction. "We've got this," she said, her voice raspy from shouting battle commands. "We'll keep fighting until we win."

Amidst the chaos and destruction surrounding them, the nearby campers radiated an unexpected sense of optimism. Despite the visible fatigue etched upon their faces, their voices carried laughter and lighthearted banter, creating an atmosphere brimming with optimism. "Is Lord Hypnos here?" Percy asked eagerly, hoping to catch a glimpse of the god. He hasn't seen him since Percy escorted the Matsuoka family to the Underworld.

"I haven't seen him." Thalia shook her head. "He's most likely still guarding the thrones, but we can handle it without him. We're doing pretty well on our own."

Percy nodded in agreement. Though he had faith in their ability to protect the front lines, he couldn't help but anticipate an opportunity to see the god desperately—To talk about Hiroki and everything he has learned since then. With each passing moment, Percy's thoughts of the memories he had witnessed stripped away any remnants of joy within him. Any hint of a smile that once graced Percy's face gave way, erasing itself from his expression entirely. There was something off about that spring night in 1998, he knew, an undeniable unease that haunted him—something awful happened with Nyx and her grandson that night.

"Are you okay, Seaweed Brain?" Annabeth asked, noticing the sudden change in Percy's demeanor.

Before he could respond, a sudden shout diverted everyone's attention.

"Intruder!" Katie Gardner's voice boomed over the chaos within Rockefeller Center. Percy turned towards the source of the noise, trying to push those thoughts aside and focus on the present, but the unease lingered. His hand instinctively reached for Riptide.

All of them ran towards Katie, who was now standing on a raised platform. "State your intention, traitor!" she shouted from a platform constructed by the children of Apollo, archers on each side, her voice ringing out loud and clear. Percy's heart sped up at her words.

Next to him, Annabeth squinted. "Is that..?" She trailed off, her eyes fixed on the lone figure approaching their location.

It was Ethan Nakamura.

With deliberate and cautious steps, the son of Nemesis made his way towards them, his movements weighed down. Percy's hand instinctively went to Riptide, but he didn't draw it. He didn't sense any immediate danger from Ethan, but he couldn't help feeling uneasy about his sudden appearance.

As Ethan drew nearer, their gazes intertwined, and Percy steeled himself—the son of Nemesis eluded him in terms of genuine interactions, constantly overshadowed by Micah's presence whenever the three of them met— and yet, in an instant, he discerned a flicker of fear displayed in Ethan's expression. His eye darted anxiously, scanning the surroundings with a nervous flicker, as if anticipating an arrow to impale his skull at any moment.

A heavy tension settled over the Plaza, thick and stifling like a brewing storm.

"I don't want any trouble! I'm here for Percy Jackson!" They could all hear the tremble in Ethan's voice as he shouted. "Please—It's important!"

Ethan possessed both bravery and pride in equal measure; the fifteen-year-old was never one to reveal his emotions, let alone display fear so openly—especially not in front of strangers or enemies. Perplexed, Percy stepped forward, ignoring Annabeth's sharp eyes and Grover's nervous bleats. He worried: What could have caused such a drastic change in Ethan? At first, he assumed the son of Nemesis had been injured by his slow and unstable steps, but as he drew closer, Percy noticed the distinct lack of any physical wounds. And then his attention shifted to Ethan's hunched and strained posture—he was carrying someone. In an instant, a surge of panic surged through Percy's veins as thoughts of Micah's well-being consumed his mind. Dread tightened its grip on him, and his mind raced with concern. Micah must've gotten hurt, or worse, for the son of Nemesis to seek their help. But as Ethan drew closer, Percy saw that it was not the son of Hypnos but a woman, slumped heavily against the boy's back, with bruises and cuts on her colorless face and slackened arms.

Percy's heart sank like a stone.

It wasn't just any woman. The sight of soft brown, curly locks intertwined with streaks of gray sparked an immediate sense of familiarity. He recognized her. It felt as if the solid ground beneath his feet had been abruptly ripped away.

It was his mother.

"Hold!" Percy's voice rang out with commanding authority, a resounding shout that echoed through the air. In response, all movement ceased, with the waiting archers freezing in their tracks. As Percy sprinted forward, every step carrying him closer to his mother's side, all eyes in the vicinity remained transfixed on him, waiting for a single signal to resume their defense.

"I know this looks bad," Ethan frantically rushed to explain, his eye wide with urgency, cheeks flushed from the strain of carrying Sally for a long distance. Shrinking with uncertainty as Percy's presence loomed closer, the son of Nemesis continued, "But I promise it's not what it looks like! I didn't know it was your mom, okay? Nemesis just showed up, and she was acting like a bitch, then she said some stuff—then the airplane—"

Sally's head lolled to the side as Percy took a hold of her, her features pale and peaceful. In his mind, he understood the logical explanation—the spell had rendered his mother unconscious, and Ethan, upon learning her identity, immediately brought her to Percy's side, risking his life entirely. Yet, on an emotional level, an all-encompassing fury burned him, obliterating his ability to reason. It felt as though an inferno had ignited within him, consuming his thoughts and leaving behind only a torrent of seething rage. He attributed it to the Curse of Achilles, or perhaps it was simply the pent-up fury of being the son of a single mother and seeing her in such a vulnerable state.

"Ethan." Percy managed to force out the name through tightly clenched teeth. He cradled his mother cautiously, adjusting his grip to ensure her comfort. With his new strength from the curse, she felt remarkably light, almost fragile, in his arm, and he couldn't stop a sense of shame from eclipsing his thoughts. He was remorseful for not being able to provide the same level of care and support that she had given him unconditionally throughout his life.

"—Ok, right, and before I knew it, I had to carry your mom for like, thirty blocks. I was just trying to keep her safe." Ethan finished explaining, an undercurrent of nervousness tinged in his movements, hoping Percy would understand. "I had to leave the dude in the car. I'm like 120 pounds of pale skin and fragile bone—I couldn't carry both of them. So, uh, sorry 'bout that."

Percy drew in a deep breath, desperately attempting to regain control over his escalating emotions and calm himself down before he said something he would regret. After a moment of inward struggle, he managed to steady his voice. Finally, he managed to ask, "Do you know?"

"Do I know? Ethan echoed, his eyebrows knitting together in a perplexed furrow. "Know what?" He asked, genuine confusion etched across his face—But when he caught sight of Percy's unamused expression, he panicked and blurted out, "Oh, absolutely! I mean, I think so? If we are talking about what I think we are, then I might know more than you. Possibly... And by possibly, I mean there's a microscopic chance that I'm not completely clueless."

"About Micah, Ethan." Percy said with exasperation. "Let's talk more inside." He didn't bother waiting for a response, instead nodding to those in the vicinity, signaling that the immediate danger had passed and it was now safe to proceed. He began walking towards the entrance of the building, barely glancing at the bronze sculpture of Prometheus above the entryway: Wisdom and knowledge shall be the stability of thy times, he read to himself.

Annabeth, Grover, and Thalia caught up with him, their eyes meeting in a moment of shared apprehension. They exchanged wary glances amongst themselves, a silent recognition of the way Ethan remained quietly and steadfastly by Percy's side. Yet no one voiced their thoughts aloud, choosing to remain silent about the significance of Ethan's presence by Percy's side. The son of Nemesis was quiet as well, his expression unreadable as he kept a watchful eye on their surroundings—His gaze lingered on Thalia for some reason, recognition flickering in his face, before he turned his attention back to Percy. An unspoken message lingered in the air, a silent urging for a private conversation between them.

It was obvious who it was about.

Percy felt a wave of relief sweep over him as he entered the lobby. The cool air conditioning and the familiar smell of the reception area calmed his nerves from the chaos that kept unfolding outside. He carefully lowered Sally onto a nearby couch, ensuring that she was positioned comfortably. He took a moment to adjust her pillows, arranging them to provide adequate support, and then stepped back, his watchful eyes lingering on her to ensure her well-being.

"Is she okay? Thalia asked gently, staring at Sally with a sense of awe as if she were seeing an angel. Percy nodded, feeling a small smile tug at the corners of his lips. "When everything is over and she wakes up, she'll be thrilled to see you."

Thalia's eyes softened as she looked at Sally, who was now sleeping peacefully. "I'm glad she's going to be okay," she said. Annabeth nodded in agreement. "Me too. It's been a rough few days, but I think we're finally on the other side of it."

"About that," Ethan spoke up, his voice carrying a sense of urgency. "Everything might be getting worse. Jackson, we really need to talk privately."

Annabeth's gaze hardened as she glared at Ethan, her protective instincts kicking in. "Whatever you have to say, you can say it in front of all of us," she argued, unwilling to let Percy face any potential confrontation alone. Ethan stared at her blankly, his expression unreadable. After a moment of tense silence, he finally spoke up. "Fine," he said dryly. "It's about your boyfriend, Jackson. Micah has been exhausted lately, and I know you two enjoy having freaky sex all the time, everywhere, but whip lashes are a bit too much, don't you think? Also—"

Percy put a hand on Ethan's shoulder, guiding him away from the group towards a more secluded area. "Okay, c'mon," the son of Poseidon said, the tip of his ears a bright red as Thalia's cackling faded in the distance. "It would be better to talk alone."

Ethan shrugged off Percy's hand but followed him nonetheless.

"What happened with Micah?" Percy was able to ask once they were alone in a random office, his voice low and concerned. "Is everything okay?"

"He is fine, but we had a fight earlier," Ethan confessed, his voice laced with a mixture of embarrassment at having to admit it. "He's been behaving oddly lately, distant and withdrawn. I don't usually question him—you know how he is—but it's really bad this time, Jackson. I'm not exactly sure what's wrong with him, but I have a feeling that it's not good for any of us."

Percy listened intently, his expression serious. "Have you tried talking to him about it?" he asked.

Ethan shook his head. "He doesn't talk like that to me—he acts like I'm his kid or something, like I need to be protected from everything. I didn't want to push him further away by confronting him about it," he explained, his gaze fixed on the ground as if weighed down by the weight of their strained relationship. "And when I did, he simply left without me."

A heavy silence settled in the air, tense with the sense of abandonment that Ethan's words conveyed. Percy's expression softened with empathy. No one knew the complexities of Micah's love better than they did, nor the pain that came with being loved by him.

"He's been through a lot," Percy tried to reason, remembering Hiroki's life. "To him, everything has been leading to this war. He is injured, too. Maybe that's why he's been acting strange. He doesn't want to expose any weaknesses or cause you worry. He would never abandon you, Ethan. He is only trying to protect you the only way he knows how to."

Ethan shook his head. "It's more than that," he insisted, his voice tinged with worry. "He sounded insane. Earlier, he suddenly started talking about the Protogenoi and the House of Midnight—about Nyx ruling; He mentioned her from time to time, but I didn't even think he liked her! He's been randomly disappearing to visit the Underworld, and he always returns hurt. He's involved in something beyond his abilities. We need to find out what's going on and help him before it's too late."

"The injuries on his back," the son of Poseidon recalled. "He told me he did it himself to stop Kronos from possessing his body." Ethan shook his head. "No, Percy. Kronos isn't an issue at all—Micah, Morpheus, Phobetor, and Phantasos are keeping him in a sleep trance. It's something else entirely. I've been thinking of it, and—And my mom made some comments, too! There was no way it wasn't Nyx."

The reply caused him to pause, his brows furrowing in concern as he listened to Ethan's words. "Micah lies, Percy." Ethan insisted. "We don't know what is going on in his head! He's been keeping secrets from us. He lies about his feelings, about his intentions. He isn't trying to stop the Second Titanomachy anymore—he said the Titans and Gods will neutralize each other so Nyx can rule instead."

"Why?" Percy wondered, feeling a knot form in his stomach. "He's been saving every single camper from Kronos' army, though. He is the reason we have the support of the minor gods. Why would he suddenly change his mind?"

"Because of Nyx! She's been manipulating Micah," Ethan claimed, his voice urgent. "We had a plan! We weren't going to destroy Olympus; we were going to use Kronos to weaken the gods and demand equality between all the gods. Better treatment for half-bloods—we just wanted to help, Percy; Micah knew of a way to keep Kronos under control, then we would've locked him up in his sarcophagus—I swear it on the Styx. But Micah changed overnight, basically. He started talking about how Nyx deserves to rule because she's the oldest goddess and all that nonsense. He's completely under her control."

Every mention of the goddess only intensified Percy's unease. He was aware that something terrible had occurred between Nyx and Hiroki, but the extent of it left him deeply unsettled. At his lack of reaction, Ethan's voice rose with frustration. "We need to stop him before he does something permanent, Percy. My mom—Nemesis told me Nyx has been abusing Micah since he was a child; I think she kidnapped him to the Underworld when he was a kid, or something awful like that! Nyx must've convinced him that he's destined to be her messiah and that the only way to save his family is by overthrowing the Olympians and establishing her rule."

Percy's mind spun with a whirlwind of thoughts as he tried to grasp the gravity of the situation. The revelation that Nyx had been manipulating Micah filled him with a profound mix of anger and disgust. He vividly recalled how she addressed Hiroki as "her littlest prince," but the tone of her words held none of the genuine care and affection that Hypnos conveyed when using the same term of endearment. The idea that a goddess could exploit and use a vulnerable child—her own grandson—for her own twisted agenda was unfathomable.

Thoughts of Hiroki flooded Percy's mind—the young boy who always seemed so polite, his every word carefully chosen to avoid causing any offense, and his every action driven by a genuine desire to please others. The sense of sorrow he felt for Hiroki was indescribable. Despite his unwavering efforts to be good and do the right thing, that child had been subjected to unimaginable torment and suffering at the hands of those around him. It was unfair that someone who tried so hard to be noble and loving was the one bearing the brunt of pain and cruelty.

"We have to tell Hypnos," Percy stated, his tone serious.

Ethan appeared uncertain. "How can we know that Hypnos isn't part of the plan? His devotion to his mother is known in all of their myths."

"He wouldn't be," Percy denied without hesitation. "I know Lord Hypnos. He would never condone exploitation, regardless of the circumstances. All he wants is to reunite with his son; we have to help him do it the right way. Even if he did, we can't just sit back and watch Hiroki suffer like this. We have to do something."

Ethan's face pitched at his reply. Sensing his misstep, Percy prepared to offer an explanation, but before he could, Ethan interjected. "You know too?" The son of Nemesis reached into his pocket, retrieving a crumpled piece of paper and extending it towards Percy. It was Hiroki's missing poster; the words "missing since 1999" demanded his attention. Percy read the poster again, feeling a sense of understanding wash over him. Hiroki had met his grandmother in the spring of 1998, only to vanish the following year. Lord Hypnos had claimed that Hiroki had expressed his desire to attend Camp Half-Blood around his birthday to celebrate with his friends, but the memories Micah had shared with Percy made him doubt that claim. And then, he had disappeared, eluding even the gods' ability to locate him for a decade.

The missing poster weighed heavily on Percy's hands as he considered everything Ethan had said. If Nyx had truly taken Hiroki, it would provide an explanation for his long absence. But what about Micah's role as the ambassador of Olympus? Micah had called himself the gods' bitch—he phrased it like his position was a punishment for considering himself too important. Was it a coincidence, or had Nyx orchestrated his position for her own sinister purposes? Micah's sudden change in behavior, his allegiance to Nyx, and his role as Olympus' ambassador all seemed interconnected. Percy's mind whirled, contemplating the intricate web of events that had unfolded. Amidst the multitude of thoughts, one question surged ahead of the rest: Has Micah ever done anything out of his own desire? It appeared that every step Micah had taken was orchestrated by external forces, be it the whims of the gods or the influence of Nyx. Has Micah ever truly acted on his own free will?

Percy ran a hand through his hair, his fingers tangling with his hair amidst the inner turmoil that surged within him. The awareness that their destinies were not solely within their control weighed heavily on him. The Great Prophecy doomed him before he was even born. He couldn't help but wonder if he, like Micah, was simply a pawn in a larger game, with no real agency over his own life. Maybe there is no such thing as true free will. 

The thought was suffocating.

"We should go on a vacation after all of this is over," he said suddenly, trying to push away the overwhelming sense of helplessness. "Somewhere peaceful where we can forget about prophecies and fate for a while. Hisa and Naoki would love to meet you," He forced a smile, hoping to convince himself as much as he did Ethan.

Ethan's face changed, suspicion crept into it. "Who are they?"

"Hiroki's family," he replied, trying to keep his tone light. "Naoki is his older brother, and Hisa is his mother." Ethan repeated the words, a peculiar expression crossing his face. "A brother?" he inquired. "Is he older or younger?'"

Percy suppressed a smile. "Older. He's kind of strange." Percy replied reassuringly. "But don't worry, Ethan. Micah wouldn't replace you, even if he had a younger brother. You're still his favorite person ever."

Ethan scowled, his annoyance evident. "I know that. I wasn't concerned about that," he retorted. "Just mind your own business, Jackson."

Compelled by the spontaneous urge, Percy reached out and laid his hand gently on Ethan's head, playfully tousling his black hair. "Alright, alright," he chuckled, his tone carrying a tender warmth. "I was just trying to offer some comfort. Micah would never forgive me if I allowed any insecurities to creep in on you."

Ethan appeared mortified as he put his hands over his face. "I'm not insecure," he grumbled. "How are we going to reach Hypnos, either way?"

"He's at Olympus guarding the throne room," Percy responded, motioning for Ethan to come with him as he walked out of the office.

Ethan, taken aback by this revelation, froze in his tracks, a wave of trepidation washing over him. "Percy," he said, his voice laden with urgency, "Micah is also at Olympus."

"What?" Percy exclaimed, his eyes widening in alarm. Rachael's visions and Annabeth's predictions had been right; Micah entered Olympus directly, while the gods were distracted battling Typhon. But did he know Lord Hypnos would be waiting, guarding the thrones? "We have to hurry," Percy said, grabbing Ethan's arm and pulling him along. The two of them rushed out of the office, surprising Annabeth, Thalia, and Grover, who awaited them outside, their expressions a mix of anticipation and concern.

Annabeth spoke up first, while Percy regained his composure. "The centaurs arrived to help maintain hold," she informed Percy. "Kronos' army is retreating at the moment. We haven't caught sight of Luke or Micah yet."

"You won't see them," Percy said, motioning towards the son of Nemesis by his side. "Kronos isn't an issue right now. I don't know where Luke might be, but we need to focus on Micah. He's the one who has the power to tip the scales in this war."

"Explain," Thalia demanded. "What do you mean Kronos isn't an issue right now?"

"Right now," Ethan said impatiently, "something much worse is happening."

Thalia's eyes widened in surprise as she turned to look at Ethan, who was now standing awkwardly in their midst. "What could possibly be worse than the literal King of Titans?" she asked, bewildered.

"How about a fully empowered Protogenos of the Night?" Ethan replied. "Along with her deranged children and an army of Hellhounds."

Thalia's expression shifted from surprise to bewilderment. "Nyx? Are you talking about Nyx?"

Percy drew a deep breath, nodding to himself as he gathered his thoughts before explaining everything he had learned from Ethan. He explained how Nyx, plotting to seize power, had been manipulating events behind the scenes. "We have to stop her before it's too late," he concluded, his voice filled with determination.

"The destruction of the gods' seats of power, Nyx ruling... It would be the end of the world as we know it." Annabeth faltered, her voice tainted with a blend of terror and disbelief, wholly horrified. Grover, ever sensitive to the energy that rippled through the room, emitted a nervous bleat, his anxiety mirroring the collective tension that gripped them all. They realized, with a chilling clarity that sent shivers down their spines, that they were on the verge of a cataclysmic event, one that would forever alter the world.

As Ethan's gaze lingered on the daughter of Zeus again, Percy thought wearily, there is more to think about. It was too much. Out of all the lines in the Great Prophecy, which one do they stand in right now? Against all odds, Percy was still alive—Would be alive, invulnerable beyond his birthday; the world was in an endless sleep now due to Hypnos' sons. Half the prophecy is complete. Three lines would be left now.

The hero's soul, cursed blade shall reap
A single choice shall end his days
Olympus to preserve or raze.

"Ethan," Percy began, his voice tinged with a faint touch of uncertainty, as if grappling with a fading memory. "Do you know anything about Micah's weapon?"

The son of Nemesis looked up, his expression unreadable. "Why do you ask?"

Percy hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal, torn between the desire to shield Ethan from the potential fear the Prophecy induced and the nagging intuition that the fourteen-year-old might possess valuable insights. "I heard it being called a cursed weapon by monsters once."

He could tell Ethan felt conflicted at the thought of revealing any information about his cousin, regardless of how insignificant it could be—Loyal to Micah beyond death, afraid of betraying his trust. But if he wanted to save Micah, he had to.

"Micah's scimitar," Ethan revealed, "is rumored to be the same weapon wielded by Somnus, the Roman counterpart of Hypnos. Somnus is crueler in Roman myths, predating the Olympian Gods by a lot. He was feared by everyone, pretty much. In any conflict, his alliance guaranteed victory. Monsters refer to the scimitar as the cursed blade because it has the power to imprison the souls of its victims in an eternal slumber. The survivors to have nightmares and hallucinations—it's just "

Percy knew Hypnos was regarded as one of the gentlest and most benevolent of the gods, but the description of Somnus made him shudder. He found it difficult to reconcile the supportive deity he knew with the haunting and terrifying legend Ethan spoke of. 

"Of course," the son of Nemesis interrupted. "Micah could've made all of that up. He's known of the Great Prophecy for years now, Percy."

"The hero's soul, cursed blade shall reap," Annabeth recited. "He tried to control the narrative by creating a new story. How did he learn of the Great Prophecy?"

The daughter of Athena sent him a sharp look; unable to bear it, Percy looked away, an awful feeling developing in his chest. He didn't need Annabeth to wonder it as well—Did Micah only approach him because he's the son of Poseidon, another aspect of the prophecy? It would be impossible for that to be the truth. 

The only option Percy had was to trust Micah's claims of love for him.

"Ares, most likely." Ethan answered. "But Aphrodite, Poseidon, Hera, Zeus himself—It could've been any of them. Micah has worked for them for so long."

"And he has worked for Nyx even longer," Annabeth argued, "which means he could be playing all sides, including us. We need to be cautious and not blindly trust him, no matter how convincing he may seem."

The look on Ethan's face changed right away. "He is a victim," he argued angrily. "He's been used and manipulated by the gods his entire life! He's done bad things, but it's because he doesn't know anything else. He didn't have any other choice!"

"How do you know for sure?" Annabeth questioned, her gaze fixed with a glare upon Ethan.

"He is my family." Ethan retorted, his glare unyielding. "I know him better than anyone else. And I know he wants to do the right thing. He is just scared." Annabeth sighed, realizing that Ethan's loyalty to Micah was unwavering. "I'm not saying we abandon him," she acknowledged. "But we need to be careful and make sure we're not being used as pawns in some larger game. We need to consider all possibilities, Ethan. It might be too late for him"

Ethan denied her words. "We just need to find a way to reach him," he said. "And we can't do that if we're constantly doubting his intentions."

"You think Percy hasn't tried?" Annabeth's tone carried insult. "He's been trying, relentlessly,  for months. I've witnessed it firsthand, every step of the way. Nothing has worked. We need to accept that Micah might not want our help, or worse, he might be using us for his own gain."

Slowly, second by second, the son of Nemesis seemed to tremble with anger. He looked cornered again, his gaze flickering between Annabeth, Thalia, and Grover; they weren't his friends, or his family. They were his enemies. Ethan only had Micah, and Annabeth was suggesting that even Micah might not be on his side. The air grew heavy with tension as Ethan fought to rein in his emotions, grappling with the weight of Annabeth's words.

Thalia stepped forward, her hand on her sword hilt. "We're not here to fight you, Ethan," she said firmly. "But we can't risk everyone's lives for a traitor."

Ethan hesitated, his eyes darting around the room. Finally, he spoke in a low voice. "I don't know who to trust anymore."

Unable to witness it, Percy stepped forward, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Hey, it's okay," he said softly. "I have no intention of giving up on Micah, and neither should you. Even if it is just us, we'll save him together this time."

Ethan looked up at Percy, his eyes filled with uncertainty. "But how can we trust each other?" he asked, his voice cracking. "We've all been keeping secrets. I don't—I don't know what to do—I just—I want Micah back. I want to go on that stupid family vacation. I don't want to care about gods or Nyx or anything anymore!"

Ethan didn't cry, exactly. His eye shined with unshed tears, his face contorted with emotion, his voice wavered and choked, yet he refused to let any tears escape. His gaze remained fixed on the ground, as if expecting it to split open and reveal an infinite abyss beneath. Tense shoulders bore the weight of unspoken words, as he struggled to find the right words to express himself, only to come up empty-handed.

"It'll be over soon," Percy told him. "Then you'll only have to worry about regular kid stuff. One more night. Trust me, Ethan, one more night, and Micah and I will make it right for you and everyone else. Just hold on a little longer, and we'll bring an end to all of this."

The fourteen-year-old looked up at Percy, his eye searching for any sign of deceit or betrayal. Slowly, Ethan's eye darted to Percy's hand on his shoulder, and for a moment, he seemed to relax slightly. But then his gaze hardened again, and he pulled away from Percy's touch.

"If anyone can do it, it's you." Ethan's voice, brimming with unwavering faith, broke through the suffocating silence. He glared at Annabeth, flaunting Percy's support, and Percy could have laughed at the absurdity of it—they had been enemies just an hour before—but Ethan, with his wide-eyed anticipation, seemed so young at that moment that Percy found himself nodding in agreement.

"One more night," he said, his own voice surprisingly steady. He turned to Annabeth, hoping to see some sign of understanding in her expression, but she remained stoic and unmoved. Percy wondered if he would ever be able to bridge the gap between them. The weight of every promise he had made bore down on him, a constant reminder etched into his consciousness.

"Whatever, man." Thalia responded nonchalantly, a lazy smirk playing on her lips as she smoothed down her leather jacket, as if attempting to dispel the palpable tension in the air. "Percy's lover boy energy is making me nauseous. We'll save your Andromeda," she remarked, a hint of sarcasm in her tone, "but don't expect me to hold back the gag reflex when you two start making out."

With that, she turned on her heel and strode away. Annabeth followed her, shooting a glance at Percy before quickening her pace to catch up with Thalia. Percy watched them go, smiling at Grover, who stayed back with him. "Girls," he said nervously, "they just don't understand true love between guys and pals."

Percy rolled his eyes but couldn't help but grin at his friend's optimism. "Come on, man," he said, clapping him on the back. He turned to look at the son of Nemesis, who had been standing silently. He didn't ask how Ethan was; He didn't want to embarrass the fourteen-year-old by drawing attention to him. Instead, he simply nodded in the direction of Thalia and Annabeth. "Let's go catch up with them. We need to make it to Olympus before another war breaks out or a god throws a tantrum."

Ethan nodded softly, falling into step with Percy and Grover.

"Thank you," he whispered to him quietly before taking off alone, his head held high with newfound confidence as he exited the building. Percy watched him go with a sense of unease rooted in affection. Micah, Nico, and now Ethan. Children of the Underworld would be the end of him, he thought.

And as they made their way to the main entrance of the Rockefeller Center, an unsettling feeling settled in Percy's gut. Something was off. Grover, his face contorted with panic, turned to Percy and stammered, "D-d-do you feel that too?" The son of Poseidon nodded wearily, his hand instinctively reaching for Riptide.

With a surge of urgency, he burst out of the entrance. The streets were eerily quiet, and the air was thick with an ominous energy. His eyes darted frantically, searching for his friends, only to be met with a chilling sight: Annabeth, Thalia, and Ethan lay motionless on the ground, their forms limp and still. Panic surged through Percy's veins as he dropped to his knees, quickly assessing their pulses, his gaze flickering around—Katie Gardner was sprawled on the cement as well, her eyes closed, and her breathing shallow. Other demigods, scattered throughout, shared the same motionless state. Percy's heart pounded in his chest as he turned to Grover, but to his dismay, he saw the satyr blinking rapidly, swaying where he stood.

"Grover," Percy pleaded, his voice filled with fear and urgency. "Don't you dare, man—Grover—"

A yawn escaped the satyr's mouth. "Just... just a small nap, Percy," he mumbled, his words slurred. Then he collapsed as well, snores escaping his lips.

Percy couldn't believe his eyes. He shook Grover, desperately trying to rouse him from his unconscious state, but the satyr remained unresponsive. Panic surged through Percy as he scanned the surroundings, searching for any clues to explain this sudden collapse. Everything appeared normal, except for one glaring anomaly—the light. It was too bright, too intense for the time of day. And as Percy looked up, his heart sank.

It was the Oneiroi.

Soaring through the night sky above, millions of golden spirits swirled and danced, their forms swirling and intertwining, casting a bright light that illuminated the world below them. Everything was golden, from the buildings to the people asleep on the streets. Percy stood transfixed, his gaze locked on the mesmerizing spectacle unfolding above him. Time itself seemed to pause, as if the universe held its breath. The air seemed to hum with an otherworldly energy, a surreal feeling, as if caught in a dream of paradise. As he watched the daemones, Percy felt a sense of peace wash over him, as if all the worries and troubles of the world had vanished in that moment. He could rest, finally.

He stood transfixed, his heart pounding. His hand instinctively reached for Riptide, but his mind knew the truth—It would be useless. The spirits of dreams were too powerful, too untouchable. Panic gripped Percy's heart as his mind raced, desperately trying to think of a plan—anything at all—but, helplessly, Riptide slipped from his slackened grasp, falling to the ground.

And as his eyelids grew heavy, and his consciousness slipped away, Percy caught one final glimpse—a long serpent with piercing golden eyes slithering toward him.

Then darkness enveloped him, whisking him away into the realm of dreams.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 ! ! !

hiii i feel like nothing at all happened this chapter, sorry if it has a lot of mistakes too my brain doesn't enjoy writing rn
but hey, next one should be juicy af with micah and hypnos finally meeting lololol

idk what to say its very filler tbh i do really love percy and ethan's dynamic. i think i write percy to be wayy older than his age in the last olympian, so feel free to view him as an adult too

anyway yeah here i watched midsommar and drew micah since it reminded me of him (that "take from the yew tree, feel no pain" line had me ROLLING its so him) but yeah he busted af, little pearls on his hair bc <3 bae percy <3 and poppy flowers everywhere idk i'm not that good at drawing its just a lil glimpse umy boy's state of mind LOLOL

anyways yeah!

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Until next time!