Chapter 2
Olympus, once destroyed, now shone in a new era. The Hope unleashed by Kratos had reshaped not only Olympus but the entire civilization around it. Over the centuries, ruins gave way to prosperous and glorious cities, where the ancient and the modern blended almost naturally. The gods, though unaware of their own destruction, continued to influence the fate of men, while the Mist kept mortals oblivious to the power that permeated their lives.
Decades and centuries passed quickly, like a blink of an eye for the immortals. Human civilization evolved, going through revolutions and wars, always under the invisible influence of Olympus. New technologies emerged, empires rose and fell, and mythology, though distorted in the minds of men, remained present in their hearts and cultures. Hope, subtle in its action, allowed humanity to move forward, but with a new promise of a brighter future, even amidst inevitable conflicts.
Meanwhile, in a modest neighborhood in New York, Percy Jackson's life was about to change in unexpected ways. He was an ordinary five-year-old, always running and playing, when one fateful day in the park, everything changed. While climbing a slide, he tripped and fell. The impact seemed small, but he hit his head hard and lost consciousness.
Two days passed, and Percy remained unconscious in a hospital bed. His mother, Sally Jackson, sat by his side, her eyes filled with worry. The air around her felt heavy with the fear she felt, the anguish of seeing her son motionless. "Please wake up," she whispered, gripping Percy's hand tightly, as if the contact could bring him back. The sound of machines monitoring the boy's vital signs was the only noise in the silent room.
Exhausted and distraught, Sally fought against despair. For the past two days, she had hardly slept, waiting for her son to open his eyes. The doctor had said there were no signs of severe brain damage, but Percy still had not awakened. On the third day, something changed. Inside Percy's mind, a whirlwind of images and sounds emerged. He was trapped in a thick fog, with fragments of memories that didn't seem to be his. Disconnected scenes from movies, books, and series he had never watched floated in his mind like a chaotic tide. The most disturbing thing was the feeling that he knew those places and events, even if they didn't belong to his life.
Suddenly, he felt as if he were in two places at once: a five-year-old boy in New York and, at the same time, someone with experiences and memories from another place, another time. The confusion was unbearable. Who was he really? And why did he know so many things that made no sense for a child his age?
Finally, when he opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was the exhausted yet relieved expression on his mother's face. Sally nearly broke into tears upon seeing him awake. "Percy, my love, are you okay?" Her voice trembled, filled with emotion. She gently stroked his hair, as if fearing he would disappear if she didn't.
Percy blinked several times, trying to situate himself. The light in the room momentarily blinded him, but soon he focused on his mother's face. He knew who she was, but… why was his mind flooded with memories of things he should never know? Scenes from movies about gods, monsters, and even a boy with the same name as his flooded his mind like an uncontrolled river. "Mom… where… am I?" His voice sounded weak, and confusion clouded every word he spoke.
"You're in the hospital, sweetheart. You fell and hit your head at the park. I was so worried," said Sally, running her fingers over Percy's face, relieved to finally have him back. "But now everything will be okay."
Percy tried to focus on his mother's words, but his mind was still trapped in the chaos of memories. He blinked again, trying to push the images away. Why do I know these things? Movies he had never watched, books he had never read… This isn't real. Or is it?
The memory of a boy named Percy, fighting monsters and discovering he was the son of a god, felt as real as his own life. But how could it be? He knew they were stories… or at least they should be. "I… was I dreaming?" Percy asked, furrowing his brow as he tried to separate reality from fiction. "But it felt so real."
Sally smiled softly, leaning in to kiss his forehead. "It was just a dream, my love. But you're awake now. Everything will be okay."
For Percy, nothing seemed okay. The memories, still hazy and disconnected, continued to haunt him. Something was deeply wrong, but he couldn't explain what. Even without fully understanding, he knew one thing: those stories he "dreamed" were not just dreams. He felt it in his bones.
He couldn't remember everything, and maybe it was for the best, but something told him he was in a world he somehow knew very well. How was this possible? Why did he remember a fictional story as if it were his own reality?
As Sally continued to care for Percy, relieved he was back, he knew he couldn't share this confusion with her. Not yet. He needed to understand better what was happening in his mind — and why he felt his life was about to change forever.