5

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They had finally made it to New York—or at least the dense forests on its outskirts. Kallias and Annabeth rested by a cluster of trees, the tension of their journey easing slightly now that they were closer to their goal. Over the days, the two had grown closer. Annabeth, though wary at first, had begun to feel more comfortable around him. She had seen him protect her time and again, fending off monsters with a ferocity that left her in awe. Yet, she still couldn't hide her fear whenever he transformed.

His slitted eyes, his unnerving fangs, and the subtle, serpentine movements of his body—it was all a stark reminder that Kallias wasn't entirely human. But Annabeth let it be, choosing to trust him despite her unease. After all, he had saved her life more times than she could count.

Looking at their dirty clothes and disheveled appearances, Kallias made a decision. "We're cleaning up before we go anywhere near Camp Half-Blood," he told her.

Annabeth nodded without argument. She, too, was tired of the grime.

Kallias closed his eyes and called upon the system in his mind. "Can you guide me to Camp Half-Blood? Or at least to a Satyr" 

The system's calm voice responded. "I can find you a satyr to take her to the camp. However, doing so would forfeit your claim to the reward. You must bring her to the camp yourself to fulfill your quest."

Kallias sighed. "Fine. Just show me the way."

"Understood. Follow the dotted path," the system replied, and suddenly, a glowing, golden trail appeared before him, winding through the forest. "This is the safest route to Camp Half-Blood."

The system's voice faded, leaving Kallias with his thoughts. He glanced at Annabeth, gesturing for her to follow as they trekked along the path. After some time, they arrived at a small, clear river, the sunlight glinting off the gently flowing water.

"This is it," Kallias said, turning to Annabeth. "Get in and clean yourself up. You've got dirt everywhere."

Annabeth hesitated but eventually stripped down and waded into the water. As she did, Kallias gathered her clothes, stepping a bit farther downstream to give her privacy. Using the river water, he scrubbed the grime from her clothes until they were clean. Once done, he manipulated the moisture, drawing it out until the fabric was dry.

"Your clothes are clean and dry," he called, setting them down on a rock for her. He moved farther away but stayed close enough to intervene if something dangerous happened.

About fifteen minutes later, Annabeth emerged, her skin flushed from the cold water but looking much cleaner. Kallias handed her some monster jerky he had prepared earlier. She took it gratefully, nibbling on the tough meat.

"I'm going to bathe now," he said, rising to his feet.

She nodded, and he turned away, stripping off his own clothes. He had lost track of Aquarius, who had gone off on his own to hunt and grow stronger. The serpent had insisted on it, saying he couldn't rely on Kallias forever. Despite his initial reluctance, Kallias had agreed. He knew their bond would allow him to summon Aquarius when needed.

Stepping into the river, Kallias cleaned his clothes first, repeating the process he had used with Annabeth's, then dove beneath the water. The river embraced him, the cool current flowing around his body, invigorating him. As he swam to the riverbed, he noticed a group of fish and spent some time watching them, even playfully interacting with them.

It was here, beneath the surface, that his Gorgon side fully revealed itself. In the water, he could not hide his true nature. His golden hair shimmered, glowing faintly in the dim light, strands twisting and shifting into small, delicate snakes. There were five of them, their scales as golden as his hair, each a tiny, beautiful extension of himself.

He studied them, marveling at their existence. They were both a part of him and entirely their own beings. It was strange, but oddly comforting.

Kallias wondered about his heritage. His mother had to have been one of the Gorgons—Stheno, Euryale, or Medusa. Each name carried weight in Greek mythology.

Stheno: The Mighty or Strong 

.Euryale: The Far Springer. 

Medusa: The Queen.

He didn't know which one was his mother, and for now, he chose not to dwell on it. He had enough on his mind without adding that mystery to the mix.

As he moved through the water, he felt an undeniable connection to it. The river seemed alive as though it recognized him. The water responded to his movements, flowing around him with a kind of reverence. He thought of the new title the system had bestowed upon him:

Ocean's Heir: Loved by the oceans, you are the chosen of the seas. Water flows to protect and obey you.

Kallias smiled to himself. In the water, he felt faster, stronger, smarter—like this was where he truly belonged. Time slipped away as he lingered at the bottom of the river, letting the currents soothe him.

Eventually, he surfaced, his golden hair and serpentine locks dripping as he climbed onto the bank. The air felt cooler against his skin, but he didn't mind. He dried himself off, dressed, and returned to where Annabeth waited.

"Let's keep moving," he said. "We're close now."

Annabeth nodded, following him as they left the river behind, the path to Camp Half-Blood clearer than ever.

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The night air was still as Kallias and Annabeth followed the faint golden path toward Camp Half-Blood. The forest of New York loomed around them, thick and shadowy, the soft crunch of their footsteps the only sound. Kallias's senses were on high alert, his instincts prickling with unease. He paused mid-step, narrowing his eyes at the darkened trees ahead.

"Something's wrong," he muttered.

Annabeth stopped, her small frame trembling slightly as she looked up at him. "What is it?"

Before he could answer, the air grew colder, the kind of chill that seeped into your bones. A sudden screech echoed through the woods, loud and piercing, followed by the rustling of wings. Kallias instinctively stepped in front of Annabeth, his golden hair glowing faintly in the moonlight.

A dark shape emerged from the trees—a Fury. Its leathery wings spread wide as it hovered above them, its eyes glowing with malice. It was one of Hades' minions, sent to hunt demigods.

"You carry the stench of power," the Fury hissed, her voice grating like nails on stone. Her glowing eyes narrowed as she stepped closer, her clawed fingers twitching with anticipation. "Not just any demigod. No, your scent is different—stronger, richer. The child of a god far greater than most."

She sniffed the air again, a slow, deliberate inhale, and her lips twisted into a cruel smirk. "Ah... but what's this? Something else lingers on you, something dark and twisted. Part monster." Her gaze gleamed with malice as she stepped closer, her wings rustling ominously. "How interesting. My master will be most pleased to learn of you."

Kallias tensed, gripping his celestial bronze blade tighter. His instincts screamed at him to unleash his full power, to strike her down before she could report back to Hades. But he forced himself to keep his emotions in check, knowing he couldn't afford to reveal too much—not yet.

His sharp eyes darted over her form, taking in every unnerving detail. She was monstrous, a vision plucked straight from the darkest corners of Tartarus.

Her bat-like wings stretched wide, their membranous texture quivering with raw power. They weren't just for show—each beat sent ripples of air through the trees, a testament to their strength and swiftness. Kallias knew they could easily propel her forward with deadly speed.

Her skeletal, gaunt body seemed barely strong enough to hold her upright, but he knew better. The thin, almost emaciated frame betrayed the unnatural, otherworldly resilience of her kind. Every movement was deliberate, each step radiating a predatory grace that sent a chill down his spine.

Her dark, leathery skin glistened faintly in the moonlight, its texture uneven and jagged, like centuries of battle scars carved into her flesh. It was no doubt tougher than it appeared, a natural armor built to withstand attacks.

Kallias's gaze caught on her claws, sharp and elongated, glinting wickedly as she flexed them in anticipation. They were weapons in their own right, made for slashing, tearing, and dismembering anyone who dared to stand in her path.

And then there was her face—a twisted, beastly visage that made his stomach churn. Hollow, glowing eyes seemed to pierce through him, as though they could see every secret he harbored, every weakness he fought to conceal. Her ghoulish, almost skeletal features contorted into a grotesque smile, revealing jagged teeth that seemed built for rending flesh.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said evenly, though his eyes glowed faintly, betraying the surge of his gorgon side. "But if you think you're taking me anywhere, you're about to be very disappointed."

The Fury chuckled darkly, her claws flexing. "Oh, I don't need you alive to bring you to my master. Pieces will do just fine."

Kallias's jaw tightened. His gorgon side stirred within him, his serpentine instincts itching to lash out. "Annabeth, run," he ordered, his voice firm.

"But—"

"Go!" he snapped, unsheathing his celestial bronze blade in one fluid motion. Annabeth hesitated for only a second before taking off into the woods.

The Fury watched her go but didn't follow. Its focus was entirely on Kallias, its lips curling into a cruel smile. "You're not like the others," it said. "Let's see what you're hiding."

With a shriek, the Fury lunged at him, her claws aiming for his throat. Kallias ducked to the side, barely dodging her talons as he slashed upward with his celestial bronze blade. The edge caught her shoulder, drawing a thin line of ichor that hissed as it hit the ground. The Fury screeched in rage, spinning around with terrifying speed. Her leathery wing lashed out, catching him square in the ribs and sending him sprawling onto the forest floor.

Kallias coughed, his chest screaming in pain, but he forced himself to his feet. His golden hair shifted, the serpents hidden within stirring to life. They twisted and hissed, their eyes gleaming with faint, eerie light. The Fury paused, her glowing eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"What are you?" she spat, her tone dripping with disgust as her claws flexed. " My master will relish tearing your secrets from your broken body." 

Kallias tightened his grip on his blade, his breaths ragged. He knew he couldn't take her in a direct fight—she was faster, stronger, and had centuries of experience. But he wasn't without his own tricks.

"You talk too much," he growled, forcing a smirk to hide his fear. "But I'll tell you this—you'll regret coming after me."

The Fury shrieked again and lunged, her claws slashing in a deadly arc. Kallias barely avoided the blow, stumbling backward as he parried with his blade. Sparks flew as celestial bronze met immortal claws, but the Fury was relentless. She drove him back with every swing, each blow more ferocious than the last.

Kallias winced as her claws grazed his side, tearing through fabric and flesh alike. Blood trickled down his torso, but he gritted his teeth and kept moving. His serpents struck out, their fangs sinking into her arms. The Fury hissed in pain, ichor bubbling from the wounds, but her movements didn't slow.

"Pathetic," she sneered, swiping at him again and sending his blade flying from his grasp. "Your venom is weak, little snake. You should've stayed hidden."

Kallias scrambled back, his instincts screaming at him to flee. But instead, he met her glowing eyes and grinned through the pain. "Maybe it's not about how strong it is. Maybe it's about how much you'll spread it."

The Fury hesitated for a fraction of a second, confusion flashing across her face. That brief moment was all Kallias needed. He bolted past her, snatching up his blade as he sprinted into the dense trees.

As he ran, his mind raced. He thought about using his water abilities—calling on the water's power to overwhelm her—but immediately dismissed the idea. If he did that, it would paint an even bigger target on his back. A child of Poseidon wandering the wilds without protection was already dangerous enough, but revealing himself? That would be asking for trouble. The Fury had stumbled upon him by chance, but if word spread of his identity, it wouldn't just be her. The enemies of Poseidon—monsters, rival gods, and even his uncles—would come after him. Percy was safe because Poseidon himself shielded him, but Kallias wasn't afforded the same luxury.

He weaved through the shadows of the forest, his breath ragged but steady. The Fury screeched behind him, closing the gap with every beat of her wings. He gritted his teeth. If only he could use all his powers, he might stand a real chance against her. But even then, she was immortal. Killing her would only send her back to the Underworld, where she'd reform and come after him again.

A frustrated growl escaped his lips as he pushed himself to run faster, dodging trees and leaping over roots. The Fury's shrieks grew louder, her claws slicing through the air just behind him."Catch me if you can!" he shouted over his shoulder, putting every ounce of energy he had into running. He weaved through the forest, his heart pounding as the Fury shrieked and gave chase.

"You can't escape me, boy!" she snarled, her wings beating furiously as she closed the distance.

Kallias knew he couldn't outrun her forever. He wasn't faster, but he was smarter. He darted through the thick underbrush, forcing her to navigate around branches and roots. All the while, his serpents struck whenever she got too close, injecting more venom with each bite. It wasn't enough to stop her outright, but it would build over time.

The Fury roared in frustration, her movements growing slightly more erratic. Kallias noticed the slight hitch in her stride, the faint hesitation in her strikes. The venom was working—slowly, but it was working.

He skidded to a halt in a small clearing, his chest heaving as he turned to face her. The Fury swooped down, claws extended, ready to tear him apart. Kallias didn't flinch. Instead, he locked eyes with her, his own gaze glowing faintly.

The Fury froze mid-lunge, her body stiffening as an unnatural stillness took hold. For a brief moment, the petrification began to creep up her limbs, slowing her movements. She shrieked, clawing at her own body as if to shake it off.

Kallias didn't waste the opportunity. He lunged forward, biting her shoulder with his own venomous fangs. The Fury screamed, black ichor spilling from the wound, and staggered back. Kallias swung his blade in a wide arc, slashing her across the chest.

But she wasn't finished. With a burst of strength, she lashed out, her claws raking across his arm and sending him reeling. Kallias cried out, blood streaming from the gash. His vision blurred, and his knees buckled, but he refused to fall.

The Fury's movements were growing slower, more labored. The venom was taking its toll, stacking with every bite and every moment she pushed herself to attack. Her breathing was ragged, her strikes clumsy.

"Let's finish this," Kallias muttered, forcing himself upright. He dodged her final, desperate swing and plunged his blade into her chest. The Fury let out a bloodcurdling screech as her form shimmered and dissolved into golden dust, which sank into the earth.

Kallias dropped to his knees, his strength leaving him. Blood dripped from his wounds, staining the forest floor. The system chimed in his mind, its voice calm despite the chaos.

"Congratulations! You have defeated a Level 168 Fury. Reward being calculated."

Another notification followed:

"Alert: You have intrigued and angered the God of the Underworld, Hades. "

Kallias groaned, his body swaying as the edges of his vision darkened. He barely registered Annabeth's voice calling his name. The last thing he saw before collapsing was her running toward him, her face etched with worry. 

"T... take me to a water source," he rasped, his voice barely audible, each word a struggle as his body trembled with exhaustion and pain. His vision blurred, and the edges of the world faded into shadows. With one final, shallow breath, Kallias succumbed to the darkness. 

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