Tartarus, Unknown Location
Percy's POV (3rd)
As Percy was getting ready to leave for the depths, he did a quick inventory check. Anaklusmos, check. Shield, check. Spear, check. Necklace holding his armour, check. Throwing knives, check. Percy picked up the backpack Nēram gave him and slung it over his shoulder; the bag was full of MREs, some bread, and a few water bottles - only the bare essentials. As Percy prepared to depart, a bright flash encompassed his vision, blinding Percy completely. "A warning next time would be nice, old man."
Nēram had the deceny to at least try and look sorry, "I figured you were leaving Perseus, and I wanted to give you one last parting gift. Pull out your armour." Percy did what he was asked, slightly confused to what the unknown diety could actually do. As Percy's body was covered with the black, spartan armor, Nēram reached out and touched his helmet with a single, bony finger and a golden glow encompassed Percy's vision once more.
When Perseus looked down upon his armour, nothing had really changed except for his armour being stripped of any designs, leaving it as a clean, black slate. Percy soon realized that the clothes and backpack he had been wearing were gone, having melted into his armour, freeing up a lot of area for movement. A new weapons belt was found at Percy's waist, holding Riptide and one of his throwing knives in scabbards on opposite sides of his body; his spear could be found in a holster on his back, ready for use at a moments notice. Percy checked his greaves and sure enough, his other throwing knife was well hidden down there. Nēram had also decided to add a black cape to this new outfit, Perseus swore that Nēram thought of himself as the god of fashion. "Thank you Nēram, but is there anything else to this besides a makeover?"
"Well besides being completely resistant to the heat your light generates, no. You should be a lot more grateful, you look absolutely terrifying!" Percy rolled his eyes and murmured something about crazy immortals. He went to strap his shield on when he noticed that it too had changed, "Nēram, please tell me that the shield I'm holding isn't the same one Hephaestus crafted me."
Nēram looked offended at Percy's statement. "Of course it's not. Well it is, but it's not. Even I could tell how much that shield means to you, it's only changed while you have your armour on. Besides I think it fits the whole spartan get up a lot better than your old one did; you look even more terrifying!" Percy inspected the shield and had to admit, it did go a lot better with his armour. The black metal matched well and Percy figured his enemies would be far more intimidated by a warrior clad in black than one holding a shield of fond memories. "I suppose I should thank you Nēram, even if you still refuse to tell me who you really are."
Nēram seemed to find Percy's curiousity amusing, "Only time will tell." Nēram waved Percy goodbye and dissapeared, leaving a pile of golden sand where he once stood. Percy had the strange feeling that that was the last he would be seeing of the immortal for a long time. Percy took a deep breath and walked deeper into the depths of Tartarus. After Percy completed his final trial, Nēram had escorted him to the edge of what could be considered 'safe' in the Pit, and now, Perseus was diving into the darkest part of Tartarus, going where no immortal would dare. He would be facing enemies older than the gods, beasts so ancient, their names have been long forgotten along the shores of time.
—
The Abyss, Tartarus
(?) Later
Percy had been navigating through the depths for gods know how long, slaughtering anything that came too close. The atmosphere had gotten so dark down here that the light provided by the celestial bronze of his sword did little to help, instead, Percy engulfed his sword in a golden light. The light gave away his position easily to any creature that was brave, or foolish, enough to fight Perseus; all of them meeting the same fate. So far, Percy hasn't seen any signs of The Horde; he recalled the time when Nēram mentioned how The Horde tended to stay in the deepest part of the Pit, using the absolute darkness to their advantage and ambushing anything that came too close.
Percy kept his guard up at all times, listening for the slightest sound. Just out of reach of his light, Percy heard a deep, low hum. Curious, Percy went to investigate, what he saw stopped the demigod dead in his tracks. Percy was looking straight at a five story tall drakon. It's scales were a midnight black, and would be nearly impossible to see if not for Percy's light. The drakon's beady red eyes looked down at Percy with interest, no doubt wondering how he would taste - Percy doubted the drakon had eaten a human down here.
Faster than anything a drakon of that size had a right to move, it snapped down at Perseus, trying to swallow him whole. Percy was quick to react and dodged the strike easily. As he readied himself to dodge another chomp, he had forgotten about the tail. The tail of the beast had slammed into Perseus with so much force that he was sure anything not bearing the Curse of Achilles would have been dead upon impact. Percy had been sent flying nearly a hundred meters, giving him plenty of time to shake off the pain and ready himself once more; this time, the drakon would not get so lucky.
Percy engulfed his entire body in a celestial, white light, tendrils of the light coming off him as if he was a miniature sun. The drakon tried to hit Perseus again with its tail, but Perseus had anticipated the attack. As the tail neared, he slowed time to a near crawl and slammed a tendril of light straight at the base of its tail, cutting it off with ease; unfortunately the heat of the light had cauterized the wound, not letting the monster's blood flow. The drakon broke free of Percy's control over time and let out a screech of pain. The monster glared daggers at Perseus, wishing to end his life right then and there, but it was still wary of the light surrounding Perseus's body. Percy held no such fears of the monster, he was out for blood. Igniting Riptide in a similar white light, he charged the drakon.
Snapping out of its fear, the drakon went to bite down on Perseus's head once more. Percy easily rolled out of the way, having plenty of practice fighting drakons, and slashed his sword across its face, the heat and intensity of the light helping it cut straight through the beast's thick scales. The drakon recoiled in pain and let out a hiss. This time, Percy had toned down the heat drastically and the wound remained open; black blood started to flow down the face of the monster.
Percy went back and forth like this for a while with the drakon, dodging its attacks and inflicting small wounds wherever the opportunity presented. Percy waited patiently for an opening to come so he could land a killing blow, and one presented itself soon enough. The drakon had given up on trying to kill Perseus with its claws, seeing that the demigod was much too nimble. Instead it focused on trying to bite him. After each bite it missed, the drakon was getting sloppier and sloppier with its attacks, the wounds inflicted by Perseus catching up to it.
The drakon shot its head straight at Perseus, hoping to take him out by driving him straight into the ground. Percy rolled forward and watched the drakon's head fly straight over him: this was what he had been waiting for. With one giant slash, he separated the head of the beast from the neck. The drakon soon dissolved into a silvery dust, no doubt caused by its ancient age and orgins. Percy looked around for anything else to fight, seeing that there was nothing, he shut off his light and promptly collapsed, the effects of the Curse of Achilles and using that much power taking its toll.
—
The Abyss, Tartarus
(?) Later
Percy woke up and was immediately set on high alert, his battle hardened senses ready to take him to war. Percy summoned a dim, orange light in his hand and scanned his surrounding area for any sign of a threat. Seeing that there was no immediate threat, Percy allowed himself to relax. He willed his armour to reatreat back into his necklace and relished the comfort his regular clothes provided.
Percy took off his backpack and started rummaging through his supplies, he took out a beef MRE and started eating. Percy opened the package and realized that he and Nēram had two very different ideas about quick, basic meals. Percy pulled out a steaming hot filet mignon on a glass plate and accepted that this was his life now: eating an expensive steak granted by an unknown diety in the depths of Tartarus. Percy had opted to ignore the fork and knife at the bottom of the package - mainly just to spite Nēram - and ate the food with his hands. Percy realized that he would have to be quick with eating, the smell of food would no doubt attract any monsters nearby.
Percy finished his food and burned away any evidence that he was ever in the area, it would be best to not leave a distinct trail, he's already been in the same place for too long. Percy got up and summoned his armour once more, ready to start his long trek into the depths of the Pit.
Once again, he emblazoned his sword in dim, golden light, not wanting to use up a large amount of energy just for a little more vision. As Percy continued his ever so constant march into the Pit, he started to take the lack of monsters as a bad sign.
Percy heard a pebble kick off somewhere to his left, and scuttling feet somewhere to his right. Percy constantly turned in new directions, trying to discern where his enemy could be coming from, but then it hit him: they're everywhere.
Percy immediately increased the strength of his light. As the light continued expanding outwards, it revealed his enemy: The Horde. Percy had foolishly let them surround him and now, he is playing right into their hands.
Percy sheathed Anaklusmos and pulled Time's March off his back; during the rule of Kronos, time had stopped these beasts before, and it will do so again. Suddenly, his spear had started to glow and slowly started transforming itself. Percy watched in fascination, momentarily forgetting about The Horde and how he was hopelessly surrounded. When the weapon finished transforming, Perseus held in his hand the most feared weapon in the cosmos: The Sycth of Kronos.
Percy was questioning why his spear had transformed when one foolish member of The Horde grew impatient. It charged Perseus with a feral screech, claws extended and ready to rip the demigod to shreds. Purely on instinct, Percy spun around and bisected the beast with one, powerful swing. Percy understood now; Nēram hadn't just given him a makeover, he gave him the skills of a Lord of Time.
Percy slung his shield over his back and let loose a long laugh, this was going to be fun. Calling upon the strings of time, Perseus increased his own speed ten-fold, his body moving through The Horde at speeds that should be impossible for someone of his size. Percy cut through each creature like a hot knife through butter, often taking out two or three with a single swing. The bodies of his enemies were left scattered in his wake, but for each member of The Horde Percy killed, another three would take its place. The numbers were overwhelming and Percy needed something to help change the tide of the battle.
Slowing time to near motionless, he took a step back and caught his breath. Analyzing the situation, he realized he would be soon overrun, The Horde was coming in from all sides. Percy's grip on time had started to slip, with The Horde closing in on him at faster speeds than before. In a desperation attempt, Percy gripped the scythe with both hands and slammed the weapon into the ground, unleashing the power of destruction in one, massive wave. The Horde had finally broken free of the time spell, but it was too late for them. The wave of power destroyed everything within a mile of Perseus, shredding everything from the monsters to the landscape down to their atoms; not even the bodies of the creatures remained.
Percy was downright exhausted, leaning on the scythe as if it was a crutch; he had never expelled that much raw power without collapsing for weeks on end, but Percy didn't allow his body any rest. He has to continue, to continue fighting so he can protect his friends on the surface. Taking off his armour and summoning his clothes, Percy ripped his backpack off and grabbed one of his water bottles. Percy then emptied the entire bottle on his head, basking in the feeling of his energy returning. Percy was about to empty another on his head when he stopped himself, he still needed some to drink, and this was still only the first fight with the monsters.
Percy tried to will his scythe back into his spear and to his surprise, it actually worked. Shield and spear at the ready, Percy resummoned his armour and continued to traverse deeper into the Pit; The Horde wouldn't waste an opportunity to kill, and neither will he.