Disclaimer: Percy Jackson belongs to Rick Riordan, as well as any other element of any other work, creation that appears, credits to whomever it may apply.
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"Thoughts"
"Speaking"
Well this chapter is going to be somewhat dramatic in some parts because I will show non-human beings or part humans, for the next one is that we return to Percy Jackson and the camp Half-Blood
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Previously
"Campers and Hunters combined prevail..."
"..."
"..."
"Why did it stop?" some said because for some reason the oracle stopped in the middle of the prophecy, which caused even more confusion among everyone, but after a moment the oracle continued talking
"...The Titan's curse must one withstand..."
"...And one shall perish by a parent's hand..."
"...Without... the... Seas... Fail... can... survive..."
In the midst of a deathly silence, but several were even more confused with the last incomplete part because it seemed that the oracle had difficulty saying it as the green mist receded, writhing like a snake, and disappeared through the mummy's mouth. The Oracle sat on a rock and stood as still as in the attic, as if it were going to stay by the stream for the next century.
"HEY!, where did he go?!" but the silence was broken when some of the campers exclaimed when they noticed that the son of the sea who fought Hyperion was gone
"What?"
"When did he leave?"
Several more exclaimed while Chiron, several campers and some hunters looked around hoping to see him, but there was no sign of him.
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The stench of brimstone and despair gripped Pasiphaë's son, the Minotaur, who for more than a year had wandered the desolate plains of Tartarus, the prison forged from the primordial's own body, the place that fed the nightmares of the gods.
Steep mountains of obsidian clasped the eternally twilight sky, their peaks lost in swirling clouds of ash and regret as rivers of molten magma meandered across the landscape, their heat, a constant, suffocating presence. At the same time that the Phlegethon and the other rivers that come from the underworld flow in the same way through the nightmarish landscape.
However, the place where monsters reform, also torments them with their memories, so the Minotaur while continuing on his way in search of the exit, remembered again and again the labyrinth, the intricate labyrinth that Daedalus had built at the behest of King Minos so that he would remain a prisoner, hidden from the rest of the world. The beast remembered the fear in the eyes of the young Athenians, the taste of their blood, the echo of the bellows of rage and frustration trapped within those twisted walls.
It was a cruel and brutal existence, but it was his... then came the cursed spawn of Poseidon, the Athenian demigod and prince, wielding a gleaming sword and blessed with the favor of two Olympians... Theseus was the one had killed him and thrown his spirit into this abyss for the first time.
To Tartarus, to this cage built for immortals, a place where even the gods feared to tread... here, where the Titans defeated and imprisoned thousands of years ago writhed in their chains while letting out their roars of rage, but despite being muted by their prisons they shook this prison from time to time.
Here lurked creatures from the pages of myth, each a testament to the boundless capacity for divine cruelty and monstrous perversion. And as a sign of them, the ancient terror of Athens could see several harpies screeching overhead, their claws glistening in the firelight, and a hydra gliding right next to one of the lava rivers, its multiple heads constantly snapping and hissing.
Escaping seems impossible most of the time because the paths were constantly changing as well as where the exit was, so the geography of Tartarus was nothing more than a cruel joke orchestrated by the very essence of the primordial god. So the only thing Pasiphaë's son could do was follow that primal instinct to return to the world of the living, to the world of mortals... so he had searched relentlessly and fought very often against other monsters, from herds of Cerberus, through treacherous fields of petrified monsters to pass near where the Titans were imprisoned... but it was all in vain.
It was then that pain struck the monster that once inhabited the labyrinth
"AAARRGGGHHH!"
It began as a subtle heartbeat, a dull ache deep within his immortal essence, but quickly intensified, erupting into a scorching, devouring fire that threatened to tear him apart from within. The minotaur staggered, its huge body shaking uncontrollably until it was unable to stand and fell to its knees on its large hands to prevent the subtle sharp parts of the ground from cutting its body, limiting the cuts to its hands and legs.
One of his large hands clutched his head as he let out loud grunts of pain and miscellaneous, but erased images flooded his mind, fragmented and chaotic images, some were about Tartarus others of being back on Earth, of himself fighting and killing demigods in one of the human cities, of the city where Olympus now resides.
But there was something that surpassed everything, a face occupied his mind, it was not any of the anonymous faces of the ancient sacrifices of the labyrinth, but a specific face.
It was the face of the last demigod who killed him and sent him back to this hell, of that scrawny black-haired boy he failed to kill before he reached the demigod camp, but at the same time the half-blood's face seemed to change, to age a little as he looked into what a young man would be in the old days. But the vision didn't stop there, the fleeting images in his mind also showed him the even older demigod killing him again just by hitting him with his fist covered in lightning.
The pain lasted for a few more moments as he grunted and roared in pain, but as soon as the pain was over, a terrifying calm came over the minotaur and he was vaguely aware that he felt... bigger, stronger, only the monster didn't pay much attention to it because a new, incandescent hatred, sharper and more concentrated in that demigod than any other I'd ever known, ignited within him.
A hatred not only for the last demigod who had murdered him, but for Poseidon himself and the children he has fathered.
That hatred made Pasiphaë's son roar as he had never done before, a proclamation of reborn fury, of the primal rage that had always driven him, but was now concentrated, amplified by a potent and burning hatred. It was not just a desire to escape, nor the need to avenge his death, but to make the demigod suffer.
Unbeknownst to the beast in the labyrinth, his experience resonated in the hellscape. In various parts of Tartarus various monsters felt the same agonizing wave of pain, followed by an eruption of power that made them roar. Of those monsters that felt this, some felt stronger, some faster, some smarter, and some a combination of it.
But not only in the Pit did this happen, some of the monsters that were grouping together or looking for the titans went through it, and those who were already with Kronos' growing army attracted the attention of the beings around them. And those demigods who had joined the forces of the titans and were close to the creatures that went through this, quickly became the target of those monsters' fury.
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In another part of the nightmarish primordial realm, the stench of brimstone and despair hung in the air like a familiar perfume in Tartarus that Hyperion, Titan of Light, Heat, and Fire, felt coming for the millionth time in his nose, a stark contrast to the sun-drenched heights he once dominated thousands of years ago.
For millennia, his prison had been an obsidian tomb, where his icy darkness was a constant companion as chains forged by his Cyclops brethren bound him, his weight a physical manifestation of his confinement. But for centuries, an earthquake had shaken their desolate existence.
But for centuries, an earthquake had shaken their desolate existence. The whispers had begun subtly, a dull hum of chaos echoing through the Tartarus where the various monsters and other creatures that inhabited the body of the primordial sleeper had been trying to make their way through the prisons of the Titans for a long time… seeking to free them
Each attempt may have failed, but each slowly undermined the old protections, weakening the barriers that held them captive. And for the past few hundred years, Hyperion had felt the subtle change, the gradual erosion of his prison's defenses, he could sense a slow, agonizing return of his power, a flickering ember rekindling the ashes of his power.
"Aaarrggghhh!"
It was then that the unexpected pain came, it also reached Gaia's son and Uranus let out a groan of pain. A scorching and agonizing pressure that radiated from the depths of his being, but the pain was not the only thing that came, something else also did.
"What... what is this?" said Helios' father as he put aside the pain to concentrate on what he felt.
It was not a rebirth, nor any kind of terrifying resurrection, but above the pain, a wave of power came to him. His weakened body pulsed with renewed intensity, the flames that barely emerged from his body grew as the chains that bound him creaked under the pressure of his renewed strength.
And when the pain disappeared, a cruel smile appeared on his face... his escape was closer than expected.
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Meanwhile 3 figures were observing the timeless recesses of a cosmic loom, each wrapped in tunics woven with the very fiber of destiny, they were the Fates: Clotho, the spinner of the thread of life; Lachesis, the one that measures the days; and Atropos, the unbreakable cutter of those strands.
For eons, they had overseen the intricate tapestry of fate, controlling the fates of mortals, gods, and monsters.
But for the first time, they were caught in a dilemma beyond their control.
"Hyperion!" snapped Clotho for the umpteenth time as she frantically tugged at a frayed thread. "That insolent Titan almost destroyed us all!" she grunted and complained as the loom of fate buzzed menacingly, trembling with the weight of many individual and collective futures that had become entangled beyond recognition.
"Really, Clotho?, Can you continue to complain instead of devoting our energies to fixing this?" replied Lachesis, in a calm voice, but with a tinge of frustration that had become her constant companion during the last few hours as she watched the chaos in the threads of fate that tangled like a kaleidoscope of colors and shapes where there had once been order.
Atropos with his scissors raised attracted the gaze of the others as he tried to find a thread to cut between all the tangled fates, but all too often when she was about to cut one, she had to stop when she saw that the fate of it had changed and something similar seemed to happen with Clotho when other threads were unraveling and breaking prematurely.
"We must act quickly. If we do not fix this calamity soon, countless fates will remain undetermined, demigods and mortals will die before their time, and gods will wander aimlessly... or worse," said Atropos with barely contained fury towards the father of Helios
However, perhaps it was a joke by the mother of the three beings or the father of the same, but the three were somewhere in New York hidden inside an abandoned watch store, with some still working and ominously marking every second that the fates took to restore balance as if they were mocked.
"It's not like the latter changed much," muttered Lachesis between her teeth as she tried to untangle some threads
"It's not like the latter changed much," muttered Lachesis between her teeth as she tried to untangle some threads, gaining even a slight glance from her sisters, but they knew she was right considering the behavior of most gods
But after an unusual silence, but only broken by the sound of some of the clocks, Lachesis broke it: "Do we weave a new thread that takes us back to when Hyperion dared to meddle with time and alter fate? Or should we use the thread of Poseidon's son? "
Clotho grunted at that suggestion. "Do you want us to depend on a young demigod? As if he could understand what's at stake!" she said, but then added in a calmer tone. "The great prophecy may involve him, but he is not the only one"
But it was Atropos who understood what her sister meant, and said as she tried to untangle some threads, "She is right, he has already prevented this disaster from getting worse, and it is better than risking making this chaos even worse if we try to alter the past again, even if it is only a few hours."
"Did you two go crazy?!ؙ" Clotho raised her voice, almost exploding, but without understanding what her sisters meant because of the anger and fury that the titan of Light caused with his stupidity of traveling back in time from the future.
"I'm not talking about the child!" Lachesis snapped as she took out one of the threads that glowed faintly sea green, which from a certain part of that thread seemed like another emerged, a thicker one that separated for a few moments only to merge and separate again and again, but the separation between both threads is increasing.
"…"
"…"
"… He shouldn't even be here" Clotho said after a moment, but tacitly admitting that her sister's suggestion was a possibility
"And at the same time he is our best chance to fix this ruin of more than 20 years" Atropos commented, also saying how long Hyperion, the monsters and the demigod from the future traveled, plus she was also thinking about how to make it work "We can make Kronos's sword help him"
"Yes, it was made to kill and dismember Uranus... at least originally it was... it will work to end this disaster, but it has to be truly restored," Lachesis commented, thinking about it out loud.
"…"
"…"
"... Fine" said Clotho, but her tone indicated some reluctance, but she knew that if they did nothing the result could end up beyond calamity.
With the three Fates agreeing, they wove a new strand from that which arose from the son of Poseidon's own thread, separating it each time and changing the eternal loom to focus on the path they wove as best they could.
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In the eons of existence, times blurred and spaces twisted like the intricate patterns of a spider's web. Most beings were unaware of this cosmic tangle forged throughout the ages, where kingdoms and epochs merged into a singular entity: the realm beyond time itself.
In this ethereal expanse slumbered Chronus, the primordial god of time.
This primordial being was an eternal force, intertwined with existence in ways that mortal and most divine beings' understanding is incapable of comprehending. Unlike Gaea's son Kronos, whose lineage waged wars and revolutions against mortals and gods, Chronus mastered the very rhythm of creation, the cosmic heartbeat that vibrated through all that exists.
For countless eons, Chronus had wandered in dreams undisturbed, a meditative haven of stillness, his essence alone weaving the fabric of destiny, anchoring the ebb and flow of life and death. Millennia passed from his perspective in moments, each heartbeat, a thousand lives. Until it happened, like the playing of a dissonant chord in a symphony, something imperceptible interrupted his peaceful sleep.
Somewhere at the nexus of reality, multiple beings, emboldened by their disparate intentions, dared to traverse time. Perhaps it was the arrogance of lesser beings or the misguided pursuits of arrogant beings, but it caused a shockwave, a disturbance as profound as a thunderclap shattering the stillness of a starry night.
And deep within his eternal realm, Chronus stirred... flashes of consciousness burned through the velvety darkness, breaking the cocoon of his deep slumber.
He felt it, a tear in the timeline, a convergence of destinies, spiraling and colliding. The echoes of the intrusions reverberated like distant bells bouncing off the fabric of time.
"Wake up… Chronos… wake up," a whisper from a voice and presence he would always recognize seeped into his essence. It was the voice of his sister and companion, Ananke, the force of inevitability and destiny. She hovered near the edge of the formless void, her silhouette emanating an ancient glow that pierced the realm of time.
"Why do you wake me, sister?" he intoned, the power of his voice echoing like thunder across the vast landscape of the realm of time even though he was still awakening after millennia of sleep.
"The descendants of Gaia and Uranus have grown reckless… even more so than they were..." Ananke replied, a mixture of sadness and anger on her face. "They seek to rewrite their destiny, but they leave scars of time with their madness. Their foolish efforts reverberate through the fabric of time, awakening forces best left undisturbed."
With that answer, Cronus had a better idea of what had disturbed his sleep, and he clung to the threads of time that stretched throughout his realm, letting their energy flood him. He saw the shadows of figures: gods, monsters, half-bloods, titans, and more, whose fates tangled together like vines in a dense forest, all unaware that their lives were linked in one way or another, just as they were linked to the moment of the disturbance.
They were drawn to the same convergence, the misguided arrogance of being able to control the abyss of power of time itself.
"Leave them," Chronus murmured in a deep, powerful tone. "One way or another, they will learn the weight of tampering with time. Mortals and Gaea's lineage rarely heed the lessons time teaches them; but this time, their madness will not be able to ignore it."
But the ethereal face of the primordial goddess of fate tightened with worry and discontent before she said to her brother "And those who don't deserve it?"
The primordial of time looked at Ananke closely, in his opinion they could always start that part of Chaos's work over again, so that the gods and titans would see that even their power was a drop in the ocean compared to powers beyond their comprehension and that they should not touch.
Only the primordial of time himself knew that none of this would please his sister, but he could also sense that their daughters were trying to fix the consequences of the stupidity of the son of Uranus.
"I think it's up to our daughters to give them a chance. It will be up to them whether they fail or not" was the best Ananke would get because he had to deal with several of the dangers that Hyperion had awakened.
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Well, as you know in various entertainment media where there is a story about time travel, there are risks to time travel with the paradoxes that Dr. Emmett Brown warns you about, Marty McFly. And if I remember correctly within the books of the Kane brothers, the Egyptian magicians it is mentioned that traveling through time is an act of chaos.
So here we see the consequences of time travel, the minotaur along with some of the other monsters from the future that attacked the camp have received the strength and some of the memories, but blurred of their future versions.
Hyperion did not receive the knowledge of his future self, but he did receive some of its power while he is still imprisoned in Tartarus, after the future Percy killed the future Titan of Light.
Time travel has altered destiny and the fates try to fix it, but the time disruption is so great because they traveled more than 2 decades into the past that they even awakened the primordial of time itself, which is beyond the comprehension of the Olympians and titans themselves. he also has a single/firm opinion about the actions of Gaia's descendants and mortals.
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Note 1 : There are different versions about the Greek creation myth, in some versions they put Chronus, the primordial, as the son of Chaos, in others as the son of Gaia and another Hydros, in another that he was born at the same time as Chaos and in others that he exists before Chaos.
For "My Future Self" he is the son of Chaos, and Chronus along with Ananke, are the parents of the fates
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