The Cyclops's fist came down like a wrecking ball. Naruto shoved Luke aside and threw his arms up, wood bursting from the ground in a tangled shield.
The blow shattered it like driftwood, the force hurling Naruto across the tiles. He hit hard, air blasting from his lungs, but he was already scrambling up again.
"Luke, move!" he shouted.
But Luke didn't move. He was on his knees, staring up at the woman in the blue dress. His mother's hand cupped his cheek, soft, steady, filled with love he hadn't known since he was a child.
"You don't have to fight anymore," she whispered, voice gentle over the Cyclops's guttural hiss. "You're safe, baby. Stay here. With me."
Luke's throat worked. Tears cut lines down his face. "Mom…"
Naruto's stomach twisted. He sprinted back, grabbing Luke by the collar and yanking him out of the Cyclops's shadow just as its hand crashed down where he'd been kneeling. The tiles caved in, dust choking the air.
"Wake up!" Naruto barked, shoving him back toward the wall. "That's not her, Luke! That's a damn monster!"
Luke shook his head violently, clutching at his ears. "You don't get it! She's here, she's alive! You don't know what it's like!"
The Cyclops roared, reaching again. Naruto jumped to meet it head-on, slamming a wood spear into its wrist. The weapon exploded into splinters, but it deflected the strike enough to send the fist crashing wide.
"Luke!" Naruto grunted, twisting under its arm and slashing with a sharpened branch he formed from his palm. "I don't know what you've been through, but I know lies when I see them! Look at its shadow! That's no mom, it's a monster that wants to eat you alive!"
But Luke didn't look. He curled against the wall, fists pressed to his eyes, shoulders shaking. "She's smiling at me… she's telling me everything's going to be okay…"
Naruto's jaw clenched. He leapt, wrapping roots around the Cyclops's throat, dragging its head down. The beast clawed and thrashed, its one burning eye locked on him with hatred. Naruto's muscles screamed as the creature's strength tore through his wood.
"Damn it, Luke!" Naruto spat, bracing his feet against the tiles as the monster thrashed. "I can't fight this thing and protect you if you don't wake up! You'll die hugging that lie! You hear me? You'll die!"
Luke's eyes flicked up. For a heartbeat, he saw both his mother's warm arms and Naruto's grip holding back the Cyclops's slavering jaws. Both calling to him. One offering comfort. The other demanding truth.
Naruto roared as the Cyclops snapped the roots, its teeth snapping inches from his face. Ichor trickled down Naruto's arm where a claw raked him, but he didn't let go. "I'm not letting this thing take you, bastard! Even if I have to drag you back myself!"
Luke's breath hitched. His mother's face flickered, warping at the edges, that gentle smile stretching too wide. He blinked hard once, twice, and saw it: the shadow, hunched and monstrous, the eye blazing through the cracks.
"…No." His voice cracked. He pushed off the wall, sword trembling in his grip. "You're not her."
The Cyclops bellowed, lunging.
Luke screamed with it, charging forward. His blade sank into its side, cutting deep. The beast reeled, shrieking. Naruto seized the opening, slamming his palm to the ground. Roots surged upward, binding its arms and legs.
"Luke, aim for its eye!"
Luke didn't hesitate this time. He leapt, driving his sword up through the monster's chest, piercing straight into the glaring orb. The Cyclops shrieked, thrashing once before its whole body dissolved into golden dust.
The kitchen groaned, settling into silence.
Luke collapsed to his knees, chest heaving, his sword clattering from his grip. His hands shook, fingers curling helplessly in the dust left behind.
Naruto staggered over, and dropped beside him. He shoved Luke's shoulder, forcing him upright. "See? That's the truth. Ugly, yeah. Painful. But it's real.."
Luke's laugh cracked, half-sob, half-hollow. He swiped his arm across his face, glaring at the empty space where his mother had been. "I hate this place."
Naruto grinned through the blood. "Good. Now let's find the others and get out of here"
The mansion's walls groaned again, louder this time. Chains rattled above. Somewhere deeper inside, the violin screeched like a beast in pain.
Naruto pushed himself up, offering Luke a hand. "Come on. Annabeth and Thalia still need us."
Luke stared at it, at the boy who had dragged him back into reality. His hand shook then tightened around Naruto's.
They stood together.
Thalia had learned early on that some people just weren't born to be mothers.
Beryl Grace wasn't cruel, not exactly. Cruelty would have required effort. What Beryl gave her daughter was worse: indifference, punctuated by bursts of shallow affection when the cameras were on.
Thalia remembered nights of sitting on the cold floor, her knees pulled to her chest, while the living room blazed with lightbulbs. Beryl twirled for paparazzi through the open door, her dress sparkling, her smile razor-sharp. Tabloids always called her "the electric starlet," but when the flashbulbs burned out, when the reporters drove away, she collapsed into a heap of smeared lipstick and sour wine.
Thalia would creep from her hiding spot, blanket dragging, and whisper, "Mama?" hoping this time the woman would look down and see her.
Sometimes Beryl did. Sometimes she even patted her head, calling her "my little ticket to Olympus" like Thalia was a charm she could wave around to prove her worth.
But just as often she shoved her away, glass in hand, muttering about him, about the man who had swept her off her feet, the god who had promised forever but left after giving her a child.
The King of the Gods. Zeus.
Beryl's greatest triumph, and her greatest wound.
The tabloids called her unstable, self-serving. A headline once screamed: "Beryl Grace: Starlet or Sideshow?" The critics said she belonged in an asylum, that she was washed up, a drunk clinging to the scraps of her former fame. Thalia, barely six, had read those words in a grocery aisle while Beryl argued with a cashier about not accepting a maxed-out credit card.
She remembered gripping the magazine so tightly her nails tore the paper. The photograph showed her mother mid-rant, eyes wild, her hair a tangled mess. People around her sneered. None of them saw the little girl in the corner of the shot, standing alone with her head down.
That was her. Thalia Grace, daughter of a woman with a goddess-sized ego and a god who had vanished.
She grew up on the sidelines of tantrums and photo ops, of glass smashing against walls, of neighbors whispering pity behind hands.
Her mother's words were knives that left no scars. "If he hadn't left, I'd still be somebody." "You're the reason he walked away." "Do you know what it's like to be discarded? You should. You're living proof."
Thalia learned not to cry. Crying made Beryl mad. Crying made her drunker. Crying proved you were weak.
Instead, Thalia clenched her teeth until her jaw ached. She swallowed down everything; every lonely night, every slammed door, every time she wished Zeus would come back, not because she wanted him, but because maybe if he did, her mother would finally love her.
By the time she was ten, she hated herself for still wanting it.
One blink and Thalia wasn't in a rotting hallway anymore. She was standing in the kitchen of an apartment she hadn't seen in years. The air smelled of melted cheese and sizzling meat. Sunlight poured through clean windows. The floor wasn't sticky with spilled liquor. The counter wasn't stacked with unopened bills.
Her chest tightened.
"Thalia?"
The voice froze her in place.
Beryl Grace stood by the stove. Her hair shone, brushed and clean. No lipstick smeared, no mascara running. Just her mother, apron tied neat around her waist, spatula in hand. And she was smiling. Smiling at her.
"You're up early," Beryl said. "I thought I'd make breakfast. Your favorite. Hamburgers and cheesy popcorn."
Thalia's throat barely worked. "…What?"
Beryl laughed lightly, not bitter or sharp, just… soft. "Don't look at me like I grew two heads. Sit down, honey."
A plate appeared at the table, a hamburger stacked high, cheese dripping down the sides, and next to it a bowl brimming with buttery, cheese-dusted popcorn. The smell hit her like a punch, the kind of smell that belonged to movie nights she'd never had, comfort she'd never known.
She stared at her mother. "Why… why are you doing this?"
Beryl blinked. "Because I love you. Because I should've done it sooner."
The words struck harder than any blow. Thalia staggered into the chair, every defense she'd built threatening to crumble.
Her mother set the spatula down and came over, kneeling so their eyes met. "I'm sorry, baby. I know I've been selfish. I let him leaving ruin me, and I blamed you for things that were never your fault. But you're the best thing that ever happened to me. I see that now."
Her hands which were steady and warm cupped Thalia's cheeks.
"I see you."
Thalia's breath hitched. Tears blurred her vision before she even realized she was crying. She wanted to shove it all away, scream that it was fake, but gods, the words, the look in her mother's eyes… they were everything she had ever wanted.
Her fists clenched in her lap, trembling. "You… you mean it?"
Beryl's eyes glistened. "Of course I do. You're strong, you're brave, and you're mine. No matter what he did, no matter that he left… I'll never leave you again."
Thalia broke. She lurched forward into her mother's arms, choking on sobs she hadn't let herself release since she was small. Beryl held her tight, rocking her gently, whispering promises she had never made before.
For the first time in her life, Thalia felt wanted. Felt safe.
And that was when the voice rumbled through the walls.
"Daughter you must awaken."
It was distant, muffled, like thunder rolling miles away.
Thalia froze.
Her mother's embrace didn't falter. "What's wrong, honey?"
She swallowed. "Did you… hear that?"
"Hear what?"
The voice came again, sharper, like claws scraping stone. "This isn't real."
Thalia pulled back slightly. Her mother's face blurred, just for a second, lips twitching too wide before snapping back into place.
"Don't leave me," Beryl whispered urgently. "Don't listen to him. He abandoned us both. I never will."
Thalia's heart pounded. She wanted to believe. She wanted it so badly.
But the thunder rolled again, closer this time, vibrating in her bones. "Look closer, daughter."
Her mother's smile flickered. The kitchen walls bled gold light, dripping like syrup. The pancake scent soured to copper.
Thalia stumbled back, spear flashing into her hand. "No."
"Thalia!" Beryl's voice cracked, desperate. "I'm your mother! Please don't leave me again!"
Thalia's breath came ragged. She wanted to run into those arms, to drown in the lie. But the voice of thunder echoed in her chest, reminding her of every night she had sat alone, every time Beryl had chosen a bottle over her, every headline that had called her an embarrassment.
She tightened her grip on her spear, lightning sparking faint along the bronze.
"You're not her."
The illusion shattered.
Beryl's skin peeled like wet paper, sloughing off in sheets. Her hair fell away in clumps, her eyes bulged, collapsing into one single, blazing yellow orb. The body twisted, hunched, limbs thickening, mouth stretching into a cavern of jagged teeth.
The Cyclops roared, its illusion collapsing around them. The pancakes rotted to ash. The warm apartment withered back into the mansion's moldy boards and rusted chains.
Thalia stood trembling, spear leveled, tears still drying on her cheeks.
"I don't need you," she spat, lightning surging down the shaft of her weapon. "Not anymore."
The Cyclops bellowed and lunged.
And Thalia screamed right back, charging to meet it.
The Cyclops thundered forward, chains rattling from the ceiling as if the whole mansion cheered it on. Its single blazing eye locked on her like a spotlight, unblinking, merciless.
Thalia's grip tightened on her spear until her knuckles ached. Lightning crawled up the bronze tip, crackling like a storm bottled inside her veins.
"Come on, then!" she shouted, voice cracking with fury and something sharper underneath; grief.
The monster swung first, its arm the size of a tree trunk, fingers hooked into claws. Thalia dove and rolled, the impact shaking the floorboards as splinters flew. She came up fast, pivoting, and thrust her spear into its calf. The bronze sank deep, sizzling where the lightning surged through the wound.
The Cyclops bellowed, jerking its leg back, nearly ripping the weapon from her hands. Thalia held on, teeth gritted, before yanking the spear free in a spray of black ichor.
"Not so tough when you're out in the open, huh?" she spat, her heart hammering too fast for her words to be steady.
The Cyclops lunged again, jaws gaping. Its breath reeked of rot and copper, washing over her in a suffocating wave. It snapped at her, teeth clanging shut inches from her head. Thalia stabbed upward, catching the roof of its mouth. Lightning flared and the beast shrieked, recoiling, smoke curling from its gums.
For a second, triumph flared hot in her chest. Then its massive hand closed around her midsection.
"Ah!"
It hoisted her up like a doll, crushing pressure forcing the air from her lungs. Her ribs creaked under the grip. The Cyclops sneered, its voice a guttural rasp dripping with mockery.
"You'll never be free. You'll always be her mistake."
Her vision spotted. She kicked and thrashed, spear pinned uselessly to her side. Its single eye bore into her, glowing brighter, trying to force the illusion back over her. She saw it flicker between her mother's smile, warm arms, the smell of buttery popcorn tugging at her heart strings again.
"No," she gasped, choking on the word. "Not… this time!"
Lightning detonated from her body. The air cracked open with the roar of a storm. The Cyclops screamed, smoke pouring from its hand as it dropped her, clutching its charred palm.
Thalia hit the floor hard, her side screaming in pain, but she forced herself up, spear braced. Lightning arced wildly from the tip, snapping across the damp walls, casting the whole hall in flashes of white.
Her hair whipped in the electric wind. Her eyes blazed with something harder than hate.
"You don't get to define me," she growled, stepping forward, each word punctuated by another spark. "Not her. Not him. Not you."
The Cyclops roared back and charged.
Thalia didn't flinch. She planted her feet, spear raised. The storm inside her surged, thunder echoing from the walls, rattling the chains until they snapped loose.
When the Cyclops swung, she ducked low, rolling under its arm, and drove her spear into the back of its knee. Lightning exploded point-blank. The joint gave with a sickening crack, the monster toppling sideways with a howl.
Thalia leapt onto its chest before it could rise, planting her spear over its glaring eye. Lightning danced across the shaft, humming, alive, begging to be unleashed.
The Cyclops thrashed, but she pressed harder, teeth bared, tears burning tracks down her face. "You want me to be weak? You want me to need her?" Her voice broke into a scream. "I DON'T NEED ANYONE!"
She rammed the spear down.
The bronze tip plunged into its eye. Lightning roared like the sky splitting apart. The Cyclops convulsed once, its howl shaking the mansion's very bones as it then dissolved into golden dust, blasted apart from the inside.
Thalia collapsed to her knees in the settling haze, chest heaving, the smell of ozone sharp in her nose. Her hands trembled around the spear, knuckles raw.
For a long moment she stayed there, panting in silence, staring at the fading ash.
Then she forced herself to her feet, swiping her sleeve across her face, leaving her cheeks streaked with grime and tears.
"Not anymore," she whispered to herself, voice raw but steady.
The mansion groaned again, the illusion still alive in its bones, but Thalia set her jaw. She had cut one chain. She'd cut the rest, too.
The golden dust of the Cyclops still clung to the air when the mansion shuddered. Chains rattled from the ceiling like laughter, boards groaning under Thalia's boots. Her chest heaved, her lungs scorched with smoke and ozone, but she lifted her spear anyway, daring the house to try again.
"Come on," she growled through clenched teeth. "I'm not afraid of you."
The mansion answered.
The hallway bent, snapping like bone, dragging her forward. Doors slammed shut one by one. The floor tilted, pulling her down its throat. Thalia staggered, slammed her spear into the wall to slow herself, sparks dancing where bronze scraped wood.
The pull grew stronger. She gritted her teeth, fighting it every step, until finally the corridor spat her out into a cavernous dining hall.
She wasn't alone.
On the far side, Naruto stumbled through a shattered doorway, half-dragging Luke, who was pale and trembling, his sword still slick with golden dust. Luke's arm also bled freely.
. "Guess we're late to the party." Naruto said with a sharp and defiant grin.
Kurama burst through the opposite wall, tearing rotted beams apart like twigs. Annabeth scrambled at his side, her hammer drawn though her hands shook. The fox's fur bristled, eyes blazing red, tails lashing as if daring the mansion itself to attack.
The four demigods and the fox stood in a rough circle, backs almost touching.
And at the head of the table, no illusions remained.
The true Cyclops loomed, larger than before, as if the mansion had poured every ounce of its malice into one body. Its shoulders scraped the rafters. Its skin bubbled with oozing sores, chains wound tight around its bulk. One eye glared, molten and hungry, its teeth stretching too wide in a grin that reeked of rot.
"You've ruined my games," it hissed, voice layered with all the illusions they'd endured so far. Annabeth's father, Luke's mother, Thalia's mother, each tone slithering in turn. "But you'll never leave. You're mine."
The mansion itself howled with the words. Every window shattered, golden light spilling like blood across the warped floor.
Thalia planted her spear, lightning flaring down its shaft. "Over my dead body."
Naruto cracked his knuckles. "Yeah, not happening. Ugly one-eye's going down."
Luke, still shaking, forced himself upright, sword clutched tight. His jaw trembled, but his eyes burned. "We end this. Together."
Annabeth swallowed hard, chin lifting despite her small frame. "Then let's fight smart. Don't give it what it wants."
Kurama rumbled low, thunder in his chest. "Finally. Some spirit."
The Cyclops roared, the sound rattling the table until it split in two.
And all at once, the children of gods and an angry furball charged forward, the mansion screaming around them as the final battle began.
_
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