Disclaimer: Percy Jackson belongs to Rick Riordan, as well as any other element of any other work, creation that appears, credits to whom it corresponds.
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"Characters speaking"
"Characters thinking"
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"This has to be a joke..." Jackson muttered in disbelief, pausing for a moment after passing through the metallic, technological doors, noticing that the interior of the place was similar.
The son of Neptune had spent nearly three minutes exploring the interior of that unusually modern space that was completely out of place compared to the archaic and mystical atmosphere of the rest of the Labyrinth.
But it didn't take long for him to recognize the place he had entered, even if it was the first time he was in it and saw the inside of the place, it was a huge and vast space like a gigantic factory and silent judging by what Percy could hear or see with the lack of good lighting, but with the few and dim lights, he noticed that it was full of old machinery fused with technology that seemed taken from a science fiction movie.
He was in Daedalus's workshop, but Percy still frowned, a mixture of shock and disbelief that he had ended up there.
On the one hand, I had heard of that place before, thanks to the stories of Annabeth Chase, daughter of Athena, and Andromeda, because both had traveled through the Labyrinth almost a decade ago during the war against the Titans, and although they had managed to briefly find the workshop, they did not have enough time to explore it thoroughly.
In fact, both demigoddesses along with the rest of the Greek half-bloods had assumed that the place had collapsed along with much of the Labyrinth after Daedalus' death.
"They thought the workshop disappeared with him..." Percy muttered, looking around cautiously.
But evidently, they had been wrong, the evidence was right in front of his eyes, even if the darkness in the place made it difficult for the son of Neptune to properly distinguish the place, but he could see many workbenches covered with impossible to identify tools, plans drawn on dimly shining surfaces, computer screens that looked like they had entered some sort of dim screen saver until they were used again as well as strange mechanisms that seemed to continue working despite the fact that no one had touched them for years and perhaps would continue working for centuries, if Daedalus' ability to create or innovate lived up to his reputation or beyond.
On the other hand, Percy knew something that all demigods eventually learned, and that lesson was that in the divine world, many things or beings don't stay dead forever.
The Labyrinth, for example, had returned to life during the rise of the giants and Gaea's attempted resurrection. Although at the time, no one fully understood how or why it had resurfaced, they only knew that the Labyrinth had changed, becoming more erratic, more dangerous, and… more alive.
However, even with that return, Daedalus' workshop had remained hidden, no one thought that it had also returned, because everyone believed that the heart of the Labyrinth, that is, the soul of the mythical creator, was irretrievably lost with the death of Daedalus himself... or perhaps it was, but they did not even try to look for it again.
"And with his death or soul in the mortal world, the workshop shouldn't exist... right?" Percy mused softly, his footsteps softly echoing against the metal floor.
By no means was the son of Neptune a connoisseur of the creation of divine-magical things or places, but he supposed that was the reason why the Greek demigods never thought to seek out the workshop again, because they thought it was tied to Daedalus' soul more deeply than any other part of the Labyrinth… that or the danger of walking the labyrinth itself.
But from the conversations he had with the Greeks, who were more impulsive, chaotic, and daring than the Romans, Jackson leaned toward the first possibility, but if that were the case, if it wasn't just a room or a physical workshop, but an extension of the mind and will of the mythical inventor... how was it possible that the place continued to exist after Daedalus' death?
"Or…" he added with a growing thought "is it that maybe this place never disappeared? "
But Jackson put aside those doubts when a slight chill ran down his spine, because even though the room didn't seem hostile, there was a persistent feeling of surveillance, as if something or someone was watching his every move from the shadows, or from within the walls themselves, so he gripped his spatha tighter.
Percy, who was holding his weapon firmly and had not let his guard down for a second since he entered, had no intention of doing so now either, looked around for any sign that might indicate some being or something else was watching him.
"I have a bad feeling about this..." he whispered to himself, a mixture of tiredness and resignation, as he moved deeper into the legendary inventor's workshop, but alert to any attack.
Not to mention the shadows in the room, as well as objects or machinery large enough to hide something or someone from his sight, made him nervous.
"I really need lessons in magic, spells... or whatever," Percy said to himself again in a low voice, his brow furrowed, slightly reproachful, as well as a mixture of frustration and resignation on his face.
It was clear that the son of Neptune didn't understand half of what he was seeing at that moment, and it wasn't due to lack of attention or lack of intelligence, but due to simple ignorance. Because various magical, mechanical, technological or divine artifacts were scattered around the place, as well as what looked like Greek, Roman, and other glyphs floating in the air, glowing very faintly, in addition to enchanted planes, objects that seemed to have a life of their own... all of this caused him a mixture of astonishment, caution and a huge headache.
Not only that, to make matters worse, the hunger, tiredness, and exhaustion accumulated since he fell into the Labyrinth made him feel even slower and clumsier, but the demigod definitely needed to learn more.
"I'm going to have to ask Lou to teach me the basics of magic... or the children of Hephaestus, even if they make fun of me or try to play a trick on me" Jackson decided while sighing and thinking quietly about the daughter of Hecate, as well as some children of the blacksmith and craftsman god, as was the case of Leo Valdez, although now accustomed to differentiating the gods with their Greek and Roman names after the last 7 years interacting with the members of Camp Half Blood.
Perhaps with a little help he could begin to understand these magical places, the enchanted artifacts, or even learn to detect traps or hidden presences before it was too late. Because honestly, being surrounded by magical objects without having any idea how they worked was about as useful as being in a room full of explosives without knowing what the detonator was.
But another thought crossed his mind, almost like a flash of lightning. "Or should I ask my father... or even Salacia?" he murmured, barely raising his gaze to the ceiling of the workshop, as if waiting for a divine answer.
Percy had read and heard about the ancient myths of Atlantis, and he knew that there were too many versions, but despite being the son of Neptune, he had never been to his father's kingdom, so he didn't know which myths were real and which weren't, but there were some that spoke of technology or magic beyond human understanding. Besides, there was no way he could forget that some cyclopes were technically his half-siblings, like his adorable, yet excitable Tyson who always seemed to speak with almost childlike enthusiasm, which to this day made him wonder how slowly cyclopes aged.
"And Tyson admires Andromeda… so maybe…" Percy muttered, trailing off as he shook his head.
It was not the time to get lost in theories, myths or familiar fantasies, because he was still trapped in the Labyrinth and the place, although seemingly empty, still caused him a constant feeling of danger and he felt that he was not alone.
The son of Neptune decided to refocus on the immediate and carefully observe every corner of the workshop, because there was no way Jackson wanted a monster or a trap to take him by surprise.
It was then that Jackson noticed something that he had missed when he entered the workshop, the darkness not only made it difficult for him to know how deep the place was, how long or wide it was, and that was that the shelves were so tall that they rose up to the ceiling, getting lost in the darkness, full of rolled-up plans with some scrolls that seemed to move by themselves and documents covered with symbols that shifted in shape as if reacting to his presence. He only noticed it because there were more shelves he saw as he walked closer to them, plus what looked like some scaffolding or platforms above his head, and he seemed to be able to see even higher, but he couldn't quite make out.
He also noticed a large number of workbenches were covered in tools of all kinds, some were familiar like hammers, pliers, soldering irons, though perhaps they were enchanted or bewitched, but others simply defied logic, like a floating metallic glove that spun on its axis without any visible power, or some sort of compass that spun in circles at an erratic pace, as if trying to find something… or someone.
"It's like a mix between Vulcan's forge... no, Hephaestus's, cabins 9 and 6, and probably what Athena's residence on Olympus would look like" Jackson commented, forming an image in his head of what the workshop looked like, since in the absence of light it was the best he could do, although his voice was lost in the shadows of the workshop.
Although Jackson was more careful in forming that opinion; in a place like this, wonder and death could be separated by just one false step.
He knew he had to tread carefully, in a place like that, wonder and death were usually separated by just one misstep.
But Jackson, in what was probably a bad decision, continued walking slowly through the workshop, still surprised by the magnitude of the place because he couldn't tell how many tables there were, or where that space ended, and also because they were still alert to the danger and to that feeling that the workshop felt as if it were alive and in constant transformation.
Every table was covered with plans, schematics, and miniature models, some of which Percy tried to examine in the hopes of understanding what he was seeing, but most of the designs were written in technical languages, mathematical formulas, or with magic symbols that he couldn't decipher.
Still, he did understand a few of them… and that was enough to surprise and unsettle him.
One of them was a detailed design of a warship… but not just any ship, this thing looked like a colossal beast made of steel and celestial bronze, a mix of modern and ancient technology. And just by looking at the map for a minute, Percy felt that this ship could pulverize any current fleet of the world's armed forces without much effort.
But what was most alarming to the son of Neptune was that he had the feeling that even if that ship were built today, it would still be superior to any human creation for at least the next two centuries.
Then another design that left him even more surprised... and confused, was a plan that detailed what looked like a floating city, suspended in the sky by some kind of unknown energy, but on the tables next to where it was, there were two other similar plans, only they were of underwater cities.
The first depicted a metropolis protected by enormous translucent domes or giant bubbles that kept water out and air in. But the second design showed a network of airtight buildings connected by reinforced tunnels, like a kind of underwater beehive.
"Oh, Neptune… What did Daedalus want to build…?" Percy whispered, with a mixture of fear and amazement, because he knew well the opinion of his father's Greek personality about Athena, so Jackson seriously doubted that the king of the seas would allow that in a certain sense, one of the sons of the goddess of wisdom invade his domains. Furthermore, after interacting with the Greeks over the past few years and everything Andromeda told him, the Roman demigod knew that the Olympian king's paranoia seemed ten times worse in his Greek form than it had as Jupiter.
But he didn't focus on that as he continued to look through the other tables with plans and models, where he also found some plans of what looked like amphibious combat bases, capable of diving under the ocean and emerging when necessary, all armed with what looked like retractable turrets, magic shields and something that looked dangerously like some kind of master bolt.
However, something that caught his attention and made him stop completely after spending almost an hour reviewing the work tables, were others further back in the workshop, slightly elevated, as if they occupied a prominent place... almost like altars, but they were not adorned with candles or offerings, but they transmitted an aura of reverence, as if what rested on them was sacred... or forbidden to anyone other than Daedalus… and perhaps it was so because on each of those tables rested some wings.
But they weren't wings of feathers and wax, like the ones Daedalus once built for his son Icarus and himself to escape the labyrinth more than 3,000 years ago... no... these were different, very different.
Because the wings resting on those tables were neither fragile nor ephemeral; they were pieces of Daedalus's incredible ingenuity, creations forged from better materials. Although Percy approached cautiously, still looking around because he hadn't let his guard down in the face of any danger, and when he arrived in front of one of the tables, he stood still for a few seconds while he watched the wings, almost as if the atmosphere itself demanded silence and respect.
Some of the first wings Jackson looked at closely were made of metal or some alloy that was impossible for the son of Neptune to classify. But Jackson could identify some immediately because he recognized the soft glow of celestial bronze in some wing pieces, the dull, somber tone of Stygian iron in other pieces, and even the deep gilding of Imperial gold.
Other wings, however, were made of metals he had never seen before: some with a blue hue that seemed to absorb the light, others with veins that changed shape as if they were alive, and another example were some wings of simple and elegant appearance, almost minimalist, that after the son of the king of Atlantis touched them, they folded like a fan.
Another set of them looked like they came straight out of a steampunk dream, with retractable plates, protruding gears, small thrusters hidden in the base, and in the center, a red crystal core that pulsed with a faint light… as if it had a silently beating mechanical heart.
"How many times did you try...?" Percy murmured, barely over a sigh.
His voice was lost in the shadows and the metallic echo of the workshop, but it wasn't a question waiting for an answer; it was more of a thought, a reflection that hung in the air.
Daedalus, the legendary inventor, had been many things: an unparalleled genius, a visionary who seemed to want to surpass the gods themselves, like his own mother or Hephaestus... but also a man deeply marked by guilt, and before those wings, Percy realized it.
"Each pair is a new version… one more attempt" the demigod whispered with a frown, observing the different designs "As if… as if he were trying to correct his mistake over and over again. "
Percy's fingers tightened slightly around the hilt of his spatha, not out of fear, but from a slight mix of emotions... compassion, admiration, and sadness for the former owner of the workshop.
Because those wings weren't simple artifacts, they weren't weapons, they were... physical reminders of a loss impossible to heal. Each model seemed almost a silent tribute, almost a plea from Daedalus to the universe for a second chance that never came.
"He could never forgive himself..." the dark-haired man with green eyes added in a low voice, as if saying it out loud made it more real while the memory of what Andromeda and Annabeth told him about Daedalus in the short time they knew him also surfaced in his mind.
But the son of Neptune pushed those thoughts aside because it wasn't the time to get lost in reflection again, and he mentally scolded himself for getting distracted, since he wasn't yet in a safe place, nor out of the labyrinth. Then he took a deep breath, holding it for a moment before approaching one of the benches where a new pair of wings rested.
These seemed a much more primitive version than the previous ones, and reminded Jackson of the wings of myth: large, stiff, heavy... except they were metallic. They were crude, made of thick plates and exposed joints, as if hastily assembled, and they lacked the elegance of the others, nor the precise polish that betokened the evolution of a genius.
But the son of Neptune thought that those wings must be some of the earliest or at least some of the oldest models judging by the much simpler table where they were placed.
Then Percy cautiously reached out and brushed the edge of one of the wings "Ahh!" and immediately let go, pulling his hand back as if he had touched an electric fence.
A bolt of energy ran through his arm, fast and sharp, although for the son of Neptune it wasn't intense enough to hurt him, but it was enough to make the hairs on his skin stand up completely, as if a wave of static had penetrated to his bones.
Percy shakes his hand while frowning and muttering to himself, "Great... magic wings with a bad temper."
Then he looked back at the wings, with a certain mixture of distrust and renewed caution, while another idea arose in his head, that perhaps it was a protective mechanism that was still active or perhaps... the workshop simply didn't want him in that part or touching the wings
The demigod decided not to press the issue, so he moved away from that table and those wings to another, more advanced model, which had a much more aerodynamic design. The plates were thin and sleek, with curved edges and almost imperceptible joints, then he gently touched the metal… and this time there was no reaction.
No electric shocks, no rejections.
"Failed prototype?" Percy muttered, staring at the wings that had given him the electric shock for a moment, but he shook his head, he was not a son of the Blacksmith God or a genius in creating magical things to be able to discover the exact reason. That was just a guess, and he had no way to confirm anything without risking triggering a defensive system, so Jackson turned around to continue looking at other wings… but something different caught his eye.
One of the dark screens, trapped in its screensaver for who knows how long, was sitting on a nearby table, but it allowed something to be seen on the table in the dim glow of the screen. Percy squinted and could make out what looked like an object on the table… but it wasn't more wings, nor plans for underwater cities.
It was a weapon.
It was an elongated silhouette, with clean, symmetrical lines, but it wasn't a bow, a spear, or a shield; it looked modern, even futuristic, with a metallic casing and internal components that seemed to fuse science and magic in equal measure.
"That's not Greek... or Roman," Percy muttered, slowly approaching and seeing some symbols carved into the metal.
The design made him think of something closer to a rifle, or perhaps an energy device straight out of a science fiction movie… but made of celestial bronze.
"What kind of weapon is this…?" he wondered quietly, crouching down a little so his head was level with the table and he could see it better in the darkness.
But then, something else caught his attention.
To the left of the table where the screen was, Percy spotted a glass display case, partially covered in dust, as if it hadn't been touched in years, which it most likely had, but Jackson could see the silhouettes of several carefully arranged weapons as he ran his hand over to brush away some of the dust on the glass, though it was still difficult to make out details in the lack of light.
But turning his head to continue paying attention to the place, the demigod realized that to the right of the table, there was another curious thing, a huge block of metal, occupying the place where there should probably be another work table, which measured at least two meters high, three long and almost two wide.
Its surface was smooth, as well as polished, giving off a dull, faint shine that the Roman immediately recognized, as he would not after the last few years and that got along better with the Greek demigods than he ever did with the Romans.
"That's... celestial bronze... but why in such a large block?" he muttered, taking a step closer, but the darkness of the place made it difficult to analyze everything clearly, causing Percy to grow frustrated one more time, so he sighed in resignation and muttered to himself "I really need a flashlight"
Then the son of Neptune turned so that his fingers found and felt around on the table for a keyboard next to the screen, and when he found it he pressed the space bar, hoping that would disable the screen saver and light up the screen… or at least do something useful.
Luckily, it did.
The screen fully lit up, casting a faint glow over the table and the room, but brighter than with the projector. It wasn't much, but enough for her eyes to begin adjusting to the shadows better.
Percy blinked a couple of times, grateful for that tiny bit of respite from visibility.
"It's times like this that I understand why Nico and Hazel always seem so calm in dark places" he murmured "It certainly helps not to have to worry about tripping over something or activating something in the dark"
As he said that, Jackson felt a slight pang of envy, for he would have liked to be able to see clearly in the darkness like in the depths of the sea or here in the workshop, but he knew that his father, Neptune had originally been the god of fresh waters before becoming the lord of the seas, so perhaps that was why he had not inherited that kind of night vision.
"Or maybe I'm just out of practice" he thought aloud with resignation, while scratching the back of his neck at the thought that, with luck, it was a skill he has not yet developed or awakened.
But thanks to the new lighting, he could better observe the display case to the left of the table, and what had previously been only blurred shapes were now revealed to be a genuine personal arsenal. And there weren't just weapons in that display case, because as he moved his gaze around the place a little more, he noticed that there were several more, lined up neatly in front of the tables, all placed in a perfectly straight line.
To his right, in contrast, rose more of those celestial bronze blocks, large and heavy, as if forming a semi-wall guarding this part of the workshop.
Jackson left that detail for the moment because he approached the first display case with barely contained curiosity, sliding the glass that protected the interior from dust, thus observing that the contents were arranged progressively.
At first, there were what appeared to be flintlock pistols, very similar to those used in the 18th or 19th centuries… except these were made of celestial bronze and imperial gold, and their engravings weren't for decoration, those were ancient engravings, magical glyphs that seemed to be vibrating very slightly with power, as if waiting to be activated or used.
Percy checked the others and each display case he inspected showed a clear evolution of weapons, from what looked like automatic revolvers with complex mechanisms, energy guns with glowing cores that were probably magical or Daedalus discovered a new form of energy, and also very particular weapons like one that looked like a dangerous mix between a compact flamethrower and a science fiction laser rifle.
"They are definitely not weapons for use in the camp or the legion" Percy muttered with a sigh, as he continued to observe those modern weapons, not daring to touch them yet, as well as imagining the disaster that will occur if certain half-bloods were to have them, whether they be fucking assholes like the now dead Octavian, morons with no common sense or too impulsive like certain children of Ares he has met, or demigods with problems quitting caffeine like Valdez.
But as he looked at them he noticed that most of them had ancient Greek or ancient Latin engravings, which didn't surprise him, but there was one that particularly caught his attention, and it wasn't precisely because of the engravings on it, but because of the appearance of the weapon.
Yes, it was engraved with glyphs he didn't recognize and that weren't from the Roman or Greek alphabet... but the handle had a strange design, lighter than the rest, and the shape of its barrel was elongated, narrow, like a precision instrument, plus it seemed to shine and had a slight aquatic design.
"And what does this do?" He asked aloud, more to himself than to wait for an answer.
But with the reckless clumsiness of curiosity, Percy took the weapon carefully, weighing it in his hands, it felt... alive, as if a latent energy throbbed in its core, and a second or two later Jackson knew that the weapon used water as fuel, or rather the hydrogen in the water.
He also knew how to use the weapon, probably because Neptune was more militaristic and disciplined than Poseidon, the slightly aquatic design and because naval combat was also one of his father's domains even though it was not one of the original ones with which the Roman personality of the king of Atlantis arose, but one that he acquired after a few centuries of existence.
He hesitated for a second… and then, in what was probably one of those decisions that Jason, Reyna, and also Andromeda's girlfriend would immediately disapprove of, he aimed at the nearest block of celestial bronze and gently squeezed the trigger.
A burst of brilliant light, almost white except for a slight blue tint, shot out of the weapon with a high-pitched whine, and the impact was immediate, with an almost perfect red-hot circle forming on the surface of the metal block.
The heat or energy was so intense that some of the metal began to melt, dripping like glowing lava onto the ground and Percy summoned some water onto it before it could melt the floor as well.
"Okay! Okay, okay! Don't play with this..." Percy exclaimed, his eyes wide open, his hand moving away from the trigger before carefully returning the gun to the display case.
He could still smell the burning metal in the air, but now mixed with the water vapor he'd collected from the air, and even though no alarm had been triggered… the place felt different to Jackson, as if the workshop had noticed what he'd just done.
"Mental note: never use a gun and shoot at something that close" he added with a mixture of nervous humor and his own warning.
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