Chapter Text
Less than five years.
That’s how long they filmed.
During that time, they all had incredible and memorable experiences.
For Percy, who was trying to improvise as many lines as he could; Annabeth trying to correct him but failing; and Marcus Vale, the director of the series, trying to calm the cast down. Then Grover, who was just doing his job but making jokes along the way and hanging out with the crew—Percy’s orders.
Every death—from the series and beyond—was mourned, cherished, and remembered forever.
We lost Bianca. We lost Zoë. We lost Charles. We lost Selina. We lost Luke. We lost Michael. We lost Ethan. We lost Castor. And many others.
We lost so many. Too many.
For some reason, every actor whose character was destined to die… died. It’s very unnerving when you think laboriously about it.
Though, Percy doesn’t believe in circumstances—at least not this circumstance.
However, at different times in the whole five years, it was all heartbreaking and even exciting (until season three, at least).
And there is more to come.
. . .
It was just a few days after New Year's (2026); then Percy got a call from his old director—Marcus Vale, an original at Olympus Studios.
Two beats later, Percy answered. “Hey, buddy! What’s up?”
Marcus didn’t hesitate; Percy swore that he could feel his smirk through the screen. “Well, Percy. I’ve got good news from Olympus Studios. Remember that cliffhanger of season five from your show?”
Percy raised his eyebrow, mostly to himself, then fell dramatically onto his couch—Sally Jackson was cooking breakfast for Percy and Paul.
He started to hum as he thought about the cliffhanger. “Yeah, I do, with the..." For some odd reason, his face started to heat up. “Like the romantic, lovely, sweet, beloved relationship with Series-Percy and Annabeth, running down Half-Blood Hill and enjoying their…? Ohh.” He grimaced with realization; he could hear Marcus’s disapproving sigh from the phone.
“You mean that prophecy. Like the seven demigods answer a call, blah, blah, blah.” Percy smirked, happy that he had remembered it (most of it, whatever.)
Marcus’s voice was echoing; he was speaking to somebody else—he was probably at the studio (duh). He responded back with a nervous laugh. "Uh huh. So funny, Percy.”
Percy frowned and slouched on his couch, as if he were absorbing the cushions—which he was. “I wasn’t telling any jokes, Marcus, but if I had, it would be absolutely hilarious!”
Mr. Vale went silent for a bit before responding with a flat answer, "Oh."
Oh? Really, after everything else you could’ve said, you picked that? Percy thought while his brows furrowed.
”Ok, kid. Whatever.” Marcus cleared his throat before speaking again.
"The producer—Riordan—plans to continue the franchise by creating a new series based on that prophecy. He had plans to do this project since before writing season five, and… you’ll be in it again." He added a distressed exhale.
Percy’s jaw dropped, then he quickly went to a poker face, redirecting the phone so it was more comfortable on his shoulder.
“So like, series-Percy has to do another great prophecy?”
Marcus hummed in agreement; meanwhile, Percy’s mother glanced at Percy with a worried look.
He stared at the ceiling.
Why?
He had no idea.
“Dude,” he said, his thoughts spiraling. The prophecy that Rachel had recited is known as the Seven Prophecy. He tried to remember the whole text from the script, but he could not pinpoint the exact words since he would usually try to ‘upgrade’ the lines, even though that was impossible to do for prophecies.
“Seven half-bloods shall answer the call . . .
To storm or fire, the world will fall . . .
And… what was the rest?”
He mumbled under his breath, his eyes narrowing.
He stopped when he remembered Marcus was still on call.
“Percy. Since you are the lead in the first series, the producer wants you to help with the castings. And picking the characters' names—though you don't really have a choice since we just stole your name and added it to the show—which will probably be the same for everyone else.”
Marcus got cut off by Percy, who was squealing with excitement. “Yes, yes! I will, and I’ll do an astounding job at it. Promise.”
The director huffed as he muttered to someone on set before returning to the prior phone call conversation: "Annabeth will also be helping you. In that case, she is the most trustworthy person to help you. She will be considering personality traits and other characteristics during the auditions. And Mr. Riordan will be the casting director for now. Alright?"
Percy nodded and realized again that he was on a call. He was sure Mr. Vale wasn’t right in front of him—he looked around for good measure; you never know.
“Right. So, I’ll be at the studios… When exactly?”
“Be there next week at ten in the morning. Can’t wait to deal with you guys again..." The director made an exhausted sigh at the end of his sentence.
Percy smirked, "That's good, you should be!”
Marcus left him in silence, not saying anything, and then before Percy could say anything else—he hung up abruptly.
Percy dropped his phone onto the couch with an exhale; he stretched his limbs with a grin. Sally noticed the behavior, turning around as she had two plates in her hands and a third one on the table, ready to eat.
She cleared her throat. “Was that Olympus Studios?”
Percy nodded enthusiastically, clearing his throat as he locked eyes with his mom. “Yeah, I’ll be helping out in casting the new characters for the next series.” He grinned widely, Sally smiling back while gesturing at the plates she just put down on the table.
Two plates held bacon and eggs, while the third one had blue pancakes, mainly for Percy Jackson.
His eyes grew wide at the food, and he suddenly jumped up from the couch and rushed over to the kitchen table. He reached for a pancake, but Sally Jackson's hand quickly batted it.
He frowned.
Sally just looked at him with a sigh. “Wash your hands first. Then you eat, okay?”
Percy glanced between his mother and the pancakes and then nodded. “Fine.”
He stormed into the bathroom.
. . .
Meanwhile, Annabeth was watching a movie with her dad, Frederick Chase.
This movie was one of Mr. Chase’s favorites: “Roman Holiday."
He said it reminded him of Annabeth’s mother. Annabeth never met her mother, but her dad sure did—he loved her.
But she left. And Frederick fell in love with Mrs. Chase, Annabeth’s stepmom.
Suddenly, her phone started to ring on the table next to the couch where she and Frederick sat.
We were about halfway into the black-and-white movie, with about an hour left to go. But the phone continued to ring, to the extent that Annabeth got angered and picked it up aggressively.
Her breath caught briefly; Mr. Chase glanced at her with curiosity. “It’s Marcus; I have to take this.” She glanced over to her father, who nodded politely, smiling ever so slightly. “Alright, take as long as you want.”
Annabeth frowned but nodded, tapping the answer button and pushing her phone up to her ear.
She cleared her throat, walking away from the living room into her room.
“Hello?” Her voice echoed throughout said room, along with a tone of steadiness and curiosity at the same time.
Marcus took a deep breath. “Hey, Annabeth. So I’m sure you remember the prophecy from season five of ‘Percy Jackson and the Olympians?’”
She spoke immediately and smoothly, “Yes. I do.”
He cleared his throat briefly, resuming the conversation. “The producer is writing a sequel based on that prophecy; he, you, and Percy will help cast the new characters for the first season of said sequel.”
Annabeth’s eyebrows rose in surprise; she smirked. She was quite happy, because she could spend more time with—no. Absolutely not.
She has to be a professional actor. He’s just a co-worker.
Stop thinking about that.
“Oh? Wow, that’s amazing. So Percy and I will be... recurring in the series?” She asked, looking down at the floor while fidgeting with her fingers.
Marcus hummed, "Mhm. Though, for the sequel, we’ll have to introduce more characters to that series, like more castings. Just like season one and how Percy got to camp, et cetera. Which, in this case, will be season one for Heroes of Olympus—the newest series in the franchise.
Annabeth exhaled in deep thought. “Yes, I see. So I’m assuming both of us will most likely be in the great prophecy, along with the other characters who are from the introductory seasons."
He immediately responded back, “Well, yes. You’re correct.”
Annabeth smiled; she was glad to be back on probably her most exciting series she’s ever filmed (she was also glad she got to spend more time with Percy—NO, STOP IT, ANNIE).
"All right, so when will this audition or casting call begin? I need to know when I'm supposed to be here, or I can remind Percy, who is likely to forget everything he learned during that call with you."
On the other side of the line, sounds of papers flipping as if Marcus were reading a script (he probably was). He cleared his throat, leaving one on a single page. “Next week, at ten in the morning. Though, if you want to, you can come in prior to ten if you want to catch up with the team on castings. And I'm sure you’ll have to re-announce everything to Percy,” he chuckled, lowering his phone so his last word was slurred.
“Okay, I got it. Perhaps you can email me some information about the casting list? I could start researching now, just in case.” Annabeth held her phone steady with both hands, as if it were going to crack at any moment. She always had a thing with finishing assignments or scripts way earlier than most. She was very much like her character in the Percy Jackson series; I guess the casting director for her did very well—I guess she’ll have to do the same with Heroes of Olympus.
Marcus replied, “Of course, I somehow knew you would say that. It’ll come in soon—I'm sure. Now, adios, Annabeth.”
She smiled in reply, muttering a brief "adios" back. Then Mr. Vale hung up.
The phone call left a sudden drop to the air in Annabeth’s room, though the movie in the living room was audible; Joe Bradley’s iconic line of tricking Princess Anne was, "You put your hand in there, it'll be bitten off."
She frowned, her phone held heavy in her hand.
Hopefully she didn’t miss too much of the movie; she had been waiting to get a movie night with her dad since it had been a while to do so.
A faint smirk reached her face; at least she had something to look forward to if she missed too much.
It was just in a week, and then she’d have a reunion with Percy Jackson—even if it had only been a month, it was still a long time for Annabeth.
Annabeth wonders how these next couple years are going to go with a whole different cast.