Chapter 1: Awakening

 It was midnight at Yancy academy, Percy was sleeping in his room, on the top level of his bunkbed, at least trying to sleep, you see, below him was his best friend named Grover, he liked to talk in his sleep a lot....particularly about his favourite food: enchiladas, which according to him were the best and most delicious food in the world, "You ever hugged an enchilada, Percy? It's... it's magical…", Grover had said just now, now imagine going all night hearing a person talking about enchiladas, you would start going crazy too right? Hearing voices... daydreaming about the world getting destroyed by a fucker(sorry for the bad word) named after a clock, daydreaming of wielding the magical blade named excalibur(yeah that one), your evil stepfather getting turned into stone(honestly that's kind of a good thing), your father being a pagan god (too many Latin lessons mr.Brunner), a beautiful girl with grey eyes and blonde hair talking and saying to you how much she loves you, a cat girl flirting with you, a Valkyrie fighting beside you, a beautiful virgin goddess ready to marry you then as if the psychosis harem was not enough, being the king of Avalon from Arthurian legends, honestly he was starting to think that he needed therapy, a lot of it, especially tonight, it was not the first time that visions like this bubbled up in his mind, but that night was without rest, he turned and turned within his sheets trying to sleep, almost fell a few times too, after a couple of hours of this his head was starting to hurt, like really hurt, like almost screaming... level of hurt, then as if that was not enough... the cherry at the top "Tell Pan the prophecy was in the salsa! THE SALSA, PERCY!", Grover was going to have a lot of explanations to do, how the heck is someone this obsessed on enchiladas, then the visions worsened, he started seeing his best friend with goat legs, running from someone in a wedding dress, then. the scene changed.. him taking Percy to.. a brainwashing camp? he did not know how else to call it, everyone wore the same t-shirt and was in greek armor, oh there passes the centaur Mr. Brunner; 

After this percy made the wise decision to get out off the bed and go to the bathroom to wash up, mind you, not that the headache disappeared, in fact it seemed heighten the closer he was to the bathroom, the moment he opened its door and entered the room seemed to shrink and grow at the same time, the visions intensified and exploded in his head, they weren't daydreams anymore,at this point he was barely breathing, he was fatigued and he felt as if he was going to explode, he felt as if his body was running a marathon, doing weights and getting stabbed, all of this at the same time "ugh...." a grunt was the only thing he say, at this point he collapsed on the ground and slowly closed his eyes, "help..." he whimpered his hand opened towards the ceiling but no one heard him, 

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Percy woke up in his bed like normal that morning, strange, the only proof that something happened was that he felt like shit, like he did not sleep, at all, moreover the remnants of his visions danced in the back of his head, then a voice of a sleeping Grover said"The enchiladas… they've unionized. We're not safe, Percy. Not safe anymore…", Percy, without even thinking grabbed his pillow, jumped out of his bed then-

thumph thumph

"hey!wha-ouch! stop dude c'mon the heck did i do to you!"

thumph thumph

"hey calm down! we can talk about it!"

"We can talk about it?! have you got any idea of what happened tonight?!" Percy said feeling as if his face was on fire

"ehm... No?" said Grover, promptly grabbing his own pillow to shield himself with;

"All night Grover! All night talking about enchiladas, screaming about them while you were sleeping!" Percy said, his fury fueled by his insomnia, "You serious dude? Are you gonna marry one?"

"Marry wh?-" thumph "An enchiladas dumbass! riddle me this! Do you want to have children too!? Little cheddar flavored goat children" at this Grover's face became a painting of horror "What!?" at this point seeing his friend's face he calmed down took a deep breath and sat down (more like collapsed) on the pavement "Ugh...sorry dude just had a shitshow of a night, and your talking about enchiladas worsened everything, honestly while i was trying to sleep--" at this point... it was as if there was an instinct on the back of his head that told him to shut up, to not tell anyone about those visions, "Sorry for the goat stuff but you were blabbering about satyrs, Pan and the hidden prophecy of enchiladas", At this, his friend calmed down, almost too fast, as if for a second he feared a big secret of his was uncovered, "It's nothing dude, i studied all of the evening for today's trip" said Grover, " At least i remembered who Pan was", "Who is Pan? He came up quite a bit in your enchilada fueled psychosis" asked percy with a visibly lighter but still tired tone, "The god of nature", "thanks i'll make sure to forget the moment Mr.Brunner asks me"said Percy, "C'mon dude you're actually decent at latin, you have like a low C";

At this point three knocks could be heard from the door and an old and tired voice could be heard "Underwood and Jackson the bus arrives 15 minutes from now you have 5 to prepare", at this two boys stopped their banter and started dressing, Percy in the bathroom and Grover in the bedroom, after 16 minutes they greeted the professors (arrived at the last minute) and were getting in the bus when... a pathetic excuse for a feminine voice said "Nice hair, Jackson. What happened, lost a fight with a mop?", at this the said Jackson visibly tensed, he was already tired with nerves on the low, if this girl was going to start the day with this, he was going to turn her into a frog for 3 days, okay... where did that come from dear brain... care to explain?

After he and grover took their seats as far away as possible from nasty Nancy, they started chilling for a bit and percy was even feeling a bit better, after a while though it was as if someone was observing his every move eyes of a predator were watching him, he sat in his seat with an extreme alertness, freaked out not knowing what to do, "Grover listen... i'm tired, you okay if i take a nap?" said Percy, quickly figuring it was a lack of sleep "Yeah dude, no prob" said Grover, with this Percy closed his eyes but since he had the luck of a Son of Zeus meeting his stepmom, everything had to go wrong.

Percy found himself in what seemed to be the throne room of a medieval castle, The entire chamber carved out of midnight-black rock. Steps—three of them—led up to 5 thrones that seemed to grow straight out of the floor,its backrest jutting skyward in sharp, horn-like spires. These thrones seemed out of a fantasy movie, the one at the center was a bit bigger than the other ones, and seemed carved out of purple obsidian, in the right there where an throne that seemed carved out of wood with comfy green cushions of these the one at the bottom had a pattern of yellow and dark orange leaves sewn into it, while the back cushion was adorned with tree branch patterns in the same colors, the one next to it wasn't really a throne, it seemed more a very large victorian armchair, the theme was black and gold, then the two at the right were a bit more peculiar, one was a classic wooden carved celtic throne, made out of wood, with images of hunting and wild life carved into it, at the top of it there were reindeer horns that erected themselves upwards,

then at the left of it there was a marble one with faint golden accents, the backrest was erected in a subtle arch, olive branch motifs ran along the throne, the sides of the throne feature classical greek legends carved in them, he could recognise both the titanomachia and gigantomachia in it. 

"Beautiful isn't it?" at this Percy turned around, and was greeted with light bow by a man with blue skin, white eyes, black hair and a lightly shaved beard,dressed in armor(that seemed out of a fantasy) "greetings m' lord how can i assist you?" said the blue man, "My name is Lancelot and i am the guardian of the throne room, how may i assist you?" Percy was at a loss of words... only to notice how Lancelot called him previously, "uhm... hi? where is this place exactly and.. why did you call me lord?", "well those are loaded questions... i'll take the liberty to answer the first one for now... the second one will be answered when the crone will visit you, you are at Avalon, the island of the fae and a safe heaven of magic and-" at that moment Lancelot turned around, a blue light pulsated from a door close to the main entrance, "it seems, our meeting has fallen short m'lord, accept please accept my apologies, have a good school trip m'lord" with this, the self identified Lancelot scurried away, "Percy Jackson?..." said a feminine voice behind him,Percy straightened and startled by the soft voice, turned around and for a flicker of a second

He turned—and there she was.

She looked almost exactly as he'd glimpsed in those flickering daydreams: red hair braided loosely over one shoulder, blue eyes that seemed to glow like moonlit lakes, a bow strapped to her back, and casual but somehow fierce in a leather jacket and worn jeans. For a heartbeat, Percy thought she'd stepped out of his visions, too—until reality snapped back and he realized she was real.

"Artemis?" he whispered, though he knew it couldn't be her. In his mind, Artemis was a goddess of silver arrows and moonlit hunts—never someone wandering into a castle's throne room dressed like a New York teenager. But the moment he said her name, a flicker ran across her features: recognition, as though she remembered him from a dream she refused to believe.

Artemis's brow furrowed. "what is a demigod doing here?" Her voice was low, curious, and practiced. She stepped forward, eyes scanning the obsidian throne behind him as though confirming he belonged here.There was a glint in her eyes, it was as if she was confirming something, not outward but inwards, after a couple of seconds her expression hardened a bit.

Percy swallowed. "You… you know me?", "Visit time finished Percy, goodbye, try to resolve this disaster..." she said in a tired and preoccupied tone.

"Wai-"

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"Percy!" Grover said in a low but hurried tone "C'mon dude we are almost arrived, if we slow down the bus then mrs.Dodds going to kill us", at this Percy woke up from his fantasy dream back to the bus "What... where are we?" said a disoriented Percy, "In the bus dumbass, we're almost arrived", "Thanks for having woken me up dude","What was it about the Dodds again" at this point Percy's eyes drifted to where Mrs. Dodds sat, 'what the fuck... i really need therapy',before grover could explain what he said, "Grover can i tell you a secret?", "Yeah dude, tight lips here", "okay well' i think i'm schizophrenic", "okay dude, i am Ronald Mcdonald..."said Grover jokingly, as if Percy was only exaggerating, "dude i'm telling you, i'm seeing the Dodds like some sort of arp-" a hand was put in front of his mouth, "Percy don't say these type of things in public people might get offended", at this point Grover had the same look of horror that he had that morning, as if Percy had discovered something that should not be, "It's not like its real right?", "It could be realer than you'd think" Grover said.

Before Grover could respond with another doomsday fortune cookie, the brakes on the bus gave their usual shriek of protest, and the whole class lurched forward in unison.

"Alright, people!" came Mr. Brunner's gravel-smooth voice from the front. "Two rules: stay with the group, and don't touch anything unless I give you express permission. Yes, I'm looking at you, Nancy."

Nancy Bobofit, already halfway through unwrapping a cherry lollipop, rolled her eyes and muttered something about "old men and their walking sticks."

"remember... realer than you'd think," Grover muttered again, adjusting his backpack straps with the grace of someone who clearly didn't want to elaborate. His eyes darted toward Mrs. Dodds like she was a hand grenade wearing a skirt.

That wasn't reassuring.

"Grover. Buddy. Pal," Percy said, lowering his voice. "You realize saying creepy things vaguely is just gonna make me spiral harder, right?", while Percy was saying those things a thought ran trough his mind , 'if the demon Dodds is 'real' then what else is? I need answer now and fast'

Grover opened his mouth. Closed it. Then leaned in, whispering, "Just… stick close to me, okay? Don't talk to Dodds alone. Or wander off. Or antagonize anyone wearing leather."

"Or...you could you just tell me what it's going on dear Grover?", he said in a tired tone

"Not now Percy, we'll talk about it with Mr. Brunner after the trip, right now its dangerous", grover said in a hushed tone

"Yeah okay, i'll just ignore the gigantic demon bat in a leather jacket then" at this Grover (evidently not having detected the sarcasm) smiled in relief, "yes Percy, do exactly that" 

The moment he stepped off the bus, a breeze swept through him that felt… wrong. Not cold. Not warm. Just... like the universe brushing past his skin.

Then it hit him.

He'd seen this place before. Not in real life—but in one of his many uninvited dreams. The stone archways. The towering pillars. The Greek statues glaring down like they knew. A fresco of the Titanomachy. A vase with the face of Kronos etched into its black clay. His head buzzed, not painfully like last night—but like static, crawling behind his eyes.

"I think this place gives me hives," Percy whispered.

"That's not hives," Grover replied grimly. "That's your instincts."

"Helpful."

Stone hallways echoed with the sound of sneakers and the shrieking of a substitute who'd already lost control of half the class.

As they filed into the exhibit hall, Percy's eyes kept drifting—left, then right. Something was wrong. Again.

That's when Mrs. Dodds looked at him.

She never looked—just turned, fluidly almost too much so, like she'd always been facing him in some other plane. Her eyes locked with his, and in their depths, something ancient awakened.

For a single, heart-stopping second, her face changed. A ripple across her skin, like shadow and smoke had crawled beneath it.

Percy stepped back. Grover instantly grabbed his wrist.

"Don't. Move," Grover whispered.

"Okay, great. Why not?"

"Because she's not looking at Percy Jackson," Grover said, his voice tight. "She's looking at...well you."

Percy tried to breathe. His heart felt like a drummer had gone berserk inside his chest.

"I'm just a kid," he muttered. "I'm just a freaking kid."

A shiver traced Percy's spine, colder than any winter in his strange dreams. He felt it – the truth in Grover's words, a terrifying, exhilarating weight settling over him. It was a pressure, like the air in the room was suddenly thicker, charged with an invisible force. He could feel Mrs. Dodds' gaze burning into him, a heatless fire that seemed to strip away his twelve-year-old facade, looking for something deeper.

He glanced around, trying to find an escape, a distraction. His eyes landed on a marble bust of a stern-faced woman with flowing hair, a helmet, and wise, piercing eyes. Athena. The name resonated in his mind with an odd familiarity, a sense of something forgotten but intensely important. He felt a pang in his chest, a yearning for someone with grey eyes and blonde hair, a longing he couldn't explain.

"Percy," Mrs. Dodds' voice cut through the hum of the exhibit, softer now, but sharper, like a razor blade wrapped in velvet. "Come with me for a moment, dear. I would like a word."

Now her mage was flickering between the gigantic fuck you bat form and the classic Ms. Dodds

Percy froze. This was it. The moment. His future self, the frantic god of memory and time, was screaming at him from the depths of his mind, a jumble of warnings and half-formed strategies. Don't go. Don't trust her. She's a monster. Veil. Kronos. Excalibur!

"No," Grover said, surprisingly firm. He squeezed Percy's wrist. "He stays with the group, Mrs. Dodds. Mr. Brunner's orders."

Mrs. Dodds' smile stretched, a little too wide, a little too sharp. "Oh, but this is a private word, Mr. Underwood. Surely you wouldn't want to impede my… disciplinary duties?" Her eyes flicked to Percy, and for a terrifying second, he saw the flickering, leathery wings of a bat in the peripheral vision of his mind.

A cold certainty settled in Percy's gut. This wasn't about discipline. This was about what Grover had just said. About who he would become.

"I can handle it, Grover," Percy said, his voice surprisingly steady, even as his knees trembled. The headache from last night pulsed behind his eyes, but it wasn't agony now, more like a cosmic tuning fork, vibrating with the intensity of the moment. He pulled his wrist from Grover's grip, not unkindly, but with a sudden, strange resolve. He knew this moment. He'd seen it, dreamt it. His old self, his future self, they were colliding.

"Percy, no!" Grover whispered, but Percy was already stepping away, walking towards Mrs. Dodds.

He felt the shift the moment he moved. The air around him shimmered, distorting the edges of the marble statues, making the classical friezes seem to writhe. Mrs. Dodds' form elongated, her shadows deepening. Her eyes were no longer human, but pinpricks of burning coal.

"You really are stupid, aren't you, Jackson?" Nancy Bobofit snickered from nearby, oblivious, still unwrapping her lollipop.

"Leave it, Nancy," Mr. Brunner's voice cut in, unusually sharp. He was at the front of the group, slowly wheeling his wheelchair closer, a hand resting on his ready-to-draw pen. His eyes, though, were fixed on Mrs. Dodds, a grim realization dawning in their depths.

Mrs. Dodds ignored Nancy and Mr. Brunner. Her gaze was solely on Percy. "You have much to answer for, little hero. Your destiny is a messy thing."

As she spoke, the world seemed to dim around them, the other tourists fading into blurred outlines, their chatter turning into a distant buzz. The museum hall became a stage for three: Percy, Mrs. Dodds, and a growing sense of primordial dread.

"What... what are you?" Percy asked, his voice barely a whisper. He knew the answer already, deep in his bones, a memory from a future he hadn't fully lived yet.

Mrs. Dodds smiled, a predatory baring of teeth. "A harbinger. A fated encounter. And your first lesson, Percy Jackson, in what it means to stand against the ancient world."

Her form twisted, melting and reforming, her skin stretching into leathery wings, her fingernails elongating into talons, her teeth sharpening into fangs. The sweet, sickly smell of sulfur filled the air. She was no longer Mrs. Dodds, but a monstrous, winged creature of darkness and fury. With her she had a scary looking whip full of pointy metallic sections

"You won't escape your fate, little demigod," she hissed, her voice now a grating shriek. "Not this time."

Percy didn't know how, but he knew he had to fight. His hands clenched, and for a fleeting second, he felt a strange warmth, a tingling sensation that promised power, a power he was just beginning to remember

"Percy here!" said Mr. Brunner's voice from behind, at this Percy turned and catched... Mr. Brunner's pen? Wait a second where is Mr.Brunner?

Percy then watched in utter disbelief as the pen turned in what was turned into a sword, a bronze sword about three foot long... then the dots connected themselves! This was the sword that Mr. Brunner uses in the fake tournament days!

Somewhere in Percy's head someone facepalmed.

CRACK!

To Percy's dismay now his chest exhibited a gash, it was not that deep, but it was as if a part of his soul was getting ripped out from him, he wanted to scream, but the words fell in his mouth.

Not the moment, Egyptian section! Now! Percy did not even ask himself what or why and started running towards the Egyptian section, a flurry of words in languages he did not know came to him, spells, ancient Egyptian spells. A voice, clear and cold in his mind, pushed one forward.

"Aten Ib-Neb!" Percy gasped, and though the sound that left his lips was a simple, frantic English plea, in his mind's ear, he heard it as a resonant, ancient chant: "Let the Heart of Every Eye Be Blind!"

A shimmering distortion rippled around him, a brief flicker of heatless light, and the world behind his eyes seemed to mute, as if his presence had become… less. It was subtle, not full invisibility, but a blurring, a shimmering haze that made him difficult to track.

"You are not going to escape, my dear! Come here and die!" Mrs. Dodds shrieked, her voice echoing behind him, a distant, enraged thunder. She picked up her pace, abandoning her measured walk for a furious pursuit. "You worm! Come back here and face your end!" Even though she couldn't pinpoint him, she knew his direction, the tell-tale shimmer in the air guiding her monstrous advance.

Percy didn't reply verbally. He just ran, his feet pounding on the polished marble floors, a silent "Sorry, Ms. Dodds, but I like living!" echoing in his thoughts. He could hear the WHIP! SWISH! of her weapon cutting through the air behind him, the metallic sections clinking as she lashed out, trying to catch the disturbed air where he was, to trip him, to locate him. He ducked through archways, weaved past ancient Greek busts, and slid around display cases, the blur around him his only defense.

He burst into the Egyptian section, the air thick with the scent of dust and antiquity. Hieroglyphs covered the walls, towering sarcophagi stood silent guard, and immense stone sphinxes loomed, their unblinking eyes staring into eternity. He sprinted past the familiar, majestic Sphinx of Hatshepsut, its colossal form offering a brief, silent anchor in his chaotic world. Mrs. Dodds, her monstrous form now fully visible, snarled, her whip snapping. CRACK! The sound echoed off the stone, a devastating sound that threatened to split the very air. She was no longer just chasing him; she was here to end him.

The fight began in earnest amidst the ancient artifacts. Percy dodged, weaving between pillars and the massive statues, the bronze sword feeling surprisingly light and right in his hand. Mrs. Dodds was relentless, her whip a blur of bronze and leather, LASHING! at the spaces where he should be. He heard the THWACK! as the whip struck a display case, shattering the glass with a loud crash that reverberated through the hall, but no alarms went off. He spun, slid under a low barrier, the monstrous form of the Fury just inches behind him. He felt a searing pain as the tip of her whip grazed his arm, a phantom fire spreading across his skin.

"Why won't you just die, boy?!" she snarled, her eyes glowing with frustrated rage.

Percy's mind raced, his future-self screaming instructions, pulling at forgotten knowledge. He saw the intricate carvings on a nearby relief, a goddess with a sun disk and cow horns—Hathor. A new phrase, a desperate, powerful whisper, erupted from him, entirely beyond his conscious will.

Seven glowing ribbons of light, shimmering in vibrant shades of gold, rose, and azure, burst from Percy, snaking through the air. They wrapped around Mrs. Dodds, binding her instantly. She shrieked, a sound of pure agony and outrage, as the ribbons constricted, burning against her leathery skin. Her whip fell from her grasp with a final, metallic CLANG!

Before the shock could fully register, before his mind could question what he had just done, Percy moved. Driven by an instinct he didn't understand but implicitly trusted, he lunged forward, the bronze blade of Riptide/Excalibur finding its mark. It sank deep into her chest, a flash of pure energy emanating from the blade as it connected.

Mrs. Dodds didn't scream. She dissolved, a puff of sickly yellow dust and the smell of old gym socks, leaving behind only the shimmering outline of the seven ribbons that now hung loosely in the air, slowly fading like morning mist.

Percy stood, panting, the sword suddenly heavy in his hand. The adrenaline drained from him, leaving him hollow and aching. The headache, which had been a dull throb, roared back to life, augmented by the sheer exhaustion of the fight and the mysterious power he had just wielded. The museum lights seemed to spin. He felt his legs give out beneath him, the bronze sword clattering to the marble floor as he collapsed. The ancient Egyptian artifacts seemed to tilt, the great sphinxes watching silently as the world faded to black.

His last thought was a whisper of a name he didn't fully recognize, yet resonated with profound longing: Annabeth...