Daybreak came way sooner than I wanted.
And no, I don't mean, like, early morning sooner. I mean the second the sun started to rise, my eyes snapped open like someone inside my body accidentally hit the on button. I lay there for a second, blinking at the ceiling, wondering if this was magic or just my body deciding to betray me. Either way, I felt fully rested—like I'd just mainlined a double shot of ambrosia.
No grogginess, no dreams, not even a vague memory of tossing and turning. Weird, right? Still, there was no time to overanalyze. I had a plan.
Okay, not so much a plan as a loosely organized collection of bad ideas, but hey, details.
It went something like this: Step one, head down to the pier and pray to my dad. Nice and casual, like I totally wasn't setting myself up as bait.
Step two, wait for Ares to swagger in before inevitably trying to skewer me.
Step three, invoke the rite of battle, then sit back while Hades gave him the divine equivalent of a smackdown.
Simple, right? Foolproof. Except for the parts where I could definitely get obliterated. With a groan, I rolled out of bed. Time to start the day. Or, you know, end it in spectacular disaster.
Whatever worked.
— - —
You have slept in a comfortable bed. [HP] and [MP] have been restored to their maximum capacity. All ailments and negative status effects have been cured.
— - —
Thanks, game. You wouldn't happen to have some sort of overpowered ability that would let me demolish Ares on my own and let me survive, would you?
Yeah, I didn't think so.
I started to get ready robotically. I offhandedly wondered if my dad or Hades or someone should've given me armor or something. I mean, I had a sword, but was that really going to be able to help me out if I got skewered like a kebab?
Ah, well. What's going to happen is going to happen. A few minutes later, I eased open the hotel room door and stepped into the living room. The hallway was quiet, just the faint hum of the air conditioning and the soft creak of the carpet under my sneakers.
Before heading out, I peeked into Piper's room, just to make sure she was asleep. Sure enough, there she was, the little tufts of her brown hair sticking out from under the covers, like she'd burrowed into the bed to escape the world. For a moment, I just stood there.
Piper and I hadn't exactly planned to become friends—it just sort of happened, like most things in my life. We'd been thrown together in the middle of some wild, life-threatening situation, and somewhere along the way, she'd gone from this random girl I'd been saddled with, to someone I actually enjoyed spending time with.
Honestly, I was grateful for that. Piper was tough in ways that didn't always show. Sure, I wasn't sure if she could hold her own in a fight, and she did kind of have a mean streak, but what really made her awesome was the way she cared. I had no doubt in my mind that she'd come with me to fight. Not that I'd let her, of course. No matter how this crazy plan turned out—whether Ares stomped me into demigod pudding or we somehow made it out alive—I was glad we'd ended up on the same team.
With a quiet sigh, I closed the door behind me and headed for the pier. Every movement I made filled my entire being with dread. I had this weird, numb feeling. I don't even know how to describe it. Everything just felt wrong about this. I kept analyzing every move I made in the last few days.
Should I have taken my uncle's deal, or should I have told him where to shove it and move on? Should I have lied to Piper? What about Annabeth? Would she be pissed when I got back to camp? Ugh, should I have had a burrito for dinner? What if I had to poop in the middle of my fight?
A few minutes and a few dozen thoughts passed, and I exited the hotel, making haste toward the pier. No one was on the streets yet but the hobos, and most of them were snoring away on street benches. One woman looked up at me, and I'll admit, I sort of jumped. I hadn't even seen her move—it was like she'd materialized out of the shadows or something.
"In a rush?" she asked, her hand wrapped around a glass bottle. The thing was freakishly yellow, like someone had melted a bar of gold and shaken it up in there. Honestly, my first thought? Pee. It was probably pee.
Because that's the kind of luck I have. "Yeah," I said, slightly out of breath. Had I been running? Weird—I didn't even remember starting to run. Not a great sign. "Not often you see a little munchkin like you running around," she said, her voice calm but weirdly sharp, like she saw more than she let on. "Especially at this time of day."
My [Mana Detection] felt a little pinprick of vibration from the woman, causing me to examine her a little closer. Just who was she? Honestly, it was hard to tell. Like a lot of the hobos here, she was completely wrapped up in a hoodie to protect herself from the chilly Santa Monica nights.
A scarf covered the bottom half of her face, too. "I have something important that I need to do," I answered her carefully. Should I use my powers on her? I wasn't going to forget about last night- I wouldn't be reckless again if I could help it. Maybe I should…
"Oh, I know, young one," The woman replied, glancing up at me. She waved the bottle a bit, and I swear it made a light buzzing sound. "You have a battle awaiting you."
Yep, I'm using it. Black letters twisted to life on top of her.
— - —
{Nemesis} [Goddess of Balance, Retribution, and Revenge]
[LVL]: ?
[HP]: ?
[MP]: ?
[?]
— - —
"I do," I said, meeting her golden eyes.
They glinted like coins under sunlight, staring straight through me. "I will be watching," Nemesis said, her voice smooth and knowing. Her eyes seemed to glow a little brighter, like she approved of my honesty. "I enjoy underdog events…even when I already know the outcome."
"Of course," Nemesis said, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. It wasn't exactly reassuring. "I am the goddess of balance and vengeance, am I not? Two concepts that seem to follow you quite closely, Perseus."
Aw, man. Why couldn't they just call me Percy? Or, I don't know, Mr. Jackson? Perseus made me sound like I was supposed to be some ripped, sun-kissed Greek hero, fresh off the cover of Godly Gladiator Weekly. Instead, here I was: pale, awkward, and very much a twelve-year-old who'd only known about the whole demigod thing for, like, two weeks. Not exactly the stuff of legends.
I decided to press my luck. "Any advice?" I asked, trying to sound casual. I mean, she was here, right? Maybe she'd throw me a bone, just to keep things entertaining for her?
Nemesis chuckled, a sound that made the hairs on my neck stand up. "Advice? Do not mistake my interest for patronage, young demigod," she said, swirling her golden bottle lazily. The liquid inside sloshed like molten sunlight. Or maybe lava. Hard to say. Either way, it looked dangerous. I frowned.
That wasn't exactly helpful. "I will admit," she continued, her tone turning sharp, "I enjoy tearing down the proud and powerful. And there are few who deserve it more than the God of War." Her smile widened, and for a moment, I thought I caught a glimmer of teeth. "Still, remember this: you will not suffer undeserved success. Good luck does not exist. True success requires sacrifice."
Great. Just what I needed—cryptic goddess wisdom. Part of me wondered if her powers could mess with my luck stat, but I decided not to dwell on that. I already had enough problems.
"Okay, thanks," I muttered, even though that advice didn't exactly scream confidence boost. Around us, the other hobos were starting to stir, their attention shifting toward our little chat. I could feel their eyes on me, and suddenly I wanted to be anywhere but here. "I should probably go," I said quickly, already backing away.
Nemesis waved me off, her eyes already closing."Try not to die too quickly."
I nodded, even though she couldn't see me, and hurried off into the morning light. No pressure or anything. Okay, the gods were definitely weird. Out of all of them, my dad and uncle were the most human-like, but man, some of them were just kooky. What even was the point of that whole encounter? Was she just trying to make herself known to me? Maybe she was working with him and trying to get in my head. Ugh, whatever. One problem at a time. The pier wasn't that far of a walk.
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