Chapter Text
“I hated every minute of training, but I said, ‘Don’t quit. Suffer now and live the rest of your life as a champion.’” —Muhammad Ali
~*~
Percy Jackson's palms were sweaty, his face was pale, and his hands were shaky, as the demigod reached for the familiar feel of a ballpoint pen which was lying supple in his hoodie pocket waiting for battle.
Forged from the fires of Mount Etna and cooled in the River Lethe, a gift from his father had it been; then given to Chiron the centaur trainer of heroes who had then passed it on to many others who all held tragic fates, and when the time was right, the centaur had finally given it to Percy. The sword had taken many forms, right now, it's a pen, but he’d soon use it to slay the mad titan Kronos.
When uncapped, the pen, transformed into a shimmering bronze sword with a double-edged blade, with a leather-wrapped grip, and a flat hilt riveted with gold studs (it was a well-balanced sword that is). It held nicely in his hands when Percy used it for training. Its name is Anaklusmos, the Greek definition of reflection, but Percy preferred to call it Riptide instead. Fast and deadly just like a demon. The same nickname that some used to describe the demigod during battle.
Percy swept his moppy hair out of the way. He was getting annoyed by the loose strands that blurred his vision.
'I'm prepared', he thought, well more of hoped. He'd only been training all summer for the past four years. Hours and hours of sword training had to be good for something; for the sake of Manhattan and all of the world.
So he waited patiently, for a figure as described in myths and legends of fierce golden eyes, black curly hair, and an unnerving, long pointy beard to appear from the shadows of battle. At the same time, that was only an artistic impression. Appearances change over time. Percy would know this as a creature had leaped into the light with a lunge of pride. He wore ghost blond locks, goldenrod eyes, and a scar that shed just right above his right eye, and his look was plastered with the familiar face of a foe who Percy had used to call ‘friend’.
Without hesitation, as this was no longer Luke (who was long gone the moment he had joined Kronos's forces), he had raised Riptide and made the first advance to try and hit it against the iron skin which almost broke his sword. Percy had swallowed down a gulp that he had been building up in the back of his throat. Achilles cursed he had guested, he grinned, now they were even.
He raced and dashed so fast he looked like lightning but, with each swing, he missed his hits because the Titan had been too fast for his mortal body until finally, after what seemed like thirty swings, he made contact with a piece of hard metal.
Luke raised his sword making contact with Percy's many times but the Titan had been good at defending himself because not even a scratch had made it onto his skin no matter how many times Percy tried. Kronos had sensed his frustration and sneered but Percy wasn’t a fool. He wouldn't give up just yet. After battling many monsters who have tried their best to make the son of Poseidon fall, he had lots of practice. He knew a good sum of tricks the titan would try to pull against a demigod to get the upper hand, but even though he had his mortal weakness, there was a greater power than even he could not understand. Much less the gods.
So the boy made advances using all his strength, he gathered some water and splashed it on the titan's face which made Kronos back up against a marble pillar, and with another hit, the titan fell and was pinned to the floor with Riptide drawn to his neck. One more move and he would be finished.
But Kronos wasn't done just yet, he gave a smile that stretched from ear to ear, celebrating as though he had won the battle even though it was far from over. Kronos noticed Percy’s disturbance and used the distraction to his advantage when he knocked the boy's sword out of his hand. They both watched as the sword skidded across the floor to the other side. Percy now dawned a look of horror. He was defenseless.
Without his weapon, Percy was screwed.
The titan then made a three with his fingers and placed them on the younger’s forehead. Percy had been too shocked thinking about the past few moments to register what was going on until he finally looked at the blond-haired titan and realized he had lost.
“Was I going to die,’ thought Percy, ‘Or will he keep me captured and use me for his entertainment,” he wondered. But, the last thing he saw was the same sinful sneer branded on the titan's face and soon a white light had begun to fill his vision.
It lasted for some time until everything faded to black.
When Percy woke up, the first thing he noticed was the smell of pine and bark. There was an itchiness in his throat so he began coughing to try and relive himself of the pain and afterwards, he regained himself fairly quickly which gave him some extra time to observe his surroundings.
He was not on the battlefield, there was no titan in sight, and no friends that could be seen. The sky was the same blue just like moments before, but no smog from fires or smoke from fallen rubble in the air, and strangely, this looked just like the woods Annabeth, Grover, and himself had been lost in just a few years ago.
They reminded him of that time Medusa almost turned them to stone which gave him the chills. Unconsciously, he reached into his pocket only to find his trusty sword was no longer there to protect him.
‘Well this is certainly odd,’ he taught.
Percy brought himself up and brushed the dirt off his pants. He began walking in a direction he chose at random, limping slightly. He could not have told you where it would lead (even if his life depended on it) until a few moments later when he found himself at an opening that led to a long stretch of cobble road.
Once he reached the graveled line he spotted what strangely looked like a general store but, it was hard to tell with his blurry vision. Even though he had no money on him, he never had a problem stealing if it meant he could get through another day.
The store seemed abandoned but out front, there were carts of fruit and other various locked-up candies that he could easily pick lock.
What caught his eyes though were the newspapers that were left littering the ground so he picked one up and scanned through the titles on the first page. The first thing he did was check the date and to his luck, they were still in 2012.
He read some more just to see if any of them could give him the information he would need to get back home.
Something caught his eyes in particular and made his stomach turn. He had a feeling he wasn’t in Manhattan anymore when he read aloud the words, “ LOCAL BATMAN AND ROBIN CATCH THE JOKER ONCE AGAIN –See more on page four”.