Chapter 13: Exploration and Realisations
Percy stepped out of the shower while letting the steam roll away. He looked at himself in the mirror. He was a little uneasy; the same feeling he felt before was gnawing beneath his skin. Nothing about this place felt right to him: the pristine luxury and the peaceful timelessness. But he wouldn't voice it out loud for now. The clothes in the closet fit remarkably well, which was odd, but Percy pushed that thought aside. He tossed the backpack given by Ares into the trash. From here on out, everything would be in his control: the reminders of anyone else's influence were no longer needed.
When he emerged from the room, Grover was flopped on a chair, happily munching on a bag of chips, while Annabeth sat on the edge of the couch, adjusting the channels until she landed on National Geographic.
"So many options," Percy said dryly. "And you go for a documentary?"
"Knowledge is power," she replied without looking up, sharp but calm.
"I'd prefer something a little less pedantic," Percy said under his breath from the doorframe.
The warmth of the lamps, the humming air conditioning, and the faint, sort-of-unsettling tremor of the hotel tingled on his skin.
Grover was smiling and clueless as ever. "This place rocks. Food, beds, no monsters. Man, if I could, I would stay here forever."
Percy's jaw tightened. That word—forever—hung in the air like a curse. An undeniable clench in his heart stirred in him as he forced a smile. "Yeah, sure. It's paradise."
Annabeth threw him an uncertain look with narrowed gray eyes. "You don't sound convinced."
"Just tired," he answered swiftly. "It's been a long week."
She hadn't entirely given herself to his words; her mind went back to their previous conversation, yet she let it drop and turned toward the screen. He took a step toward the window and drew back the thick curtains to uncover the city that stretched before him, a kaleidoscope of neon lights and busy streets, just feeling static like an oil painting and not one object living and breathing.
"I will look around. You guys stay here," in a tone which left no room for protests.
Annabeth gave him a curious look but didn't say anything. "Just don't get lost."
Percy smiled rather wryly and swung into the chaos of the casino. Shouts, lights, and laughter washed against him like a good wave. Yet he was never going to get swept along with it. He marched through the crowd in a focused manner.
With each step he took through the maze of games and luxury, the denser his anxiety became. Each step carried newer rumbles of discomfort: clocks ticking slower now, people with slow blinking eyes, gazes fixed a beat ahead in some faraway flashback.
"Time's slowing down here," he muttered under his breath, feeling more convinced than surprised.
The outside world felt impossibly distant, as if it had actually come to an end in its own right. Percy clenched his fists against the drowsiness that had found its way to the very marrow of his bones. Unlike Grover and Annabeth, who were slowly succumbing to the charms of the casino, Percy remained unaffected.The realisation was both a relief and a warning
He paused by a massive fountain at the heart of the casino, amazed by the water splashing all around. The rhythm was similar to the very rhythm that had pervaded the atmosphere which had struck him ever since he had stepped into the casino. Percy gazed at his own reflection in the water's surface, casting a dark shadow within the tempestuous green of his eyes that was something way more substantial than mere exhaustion. Flickering before him in those depths was a flicker of gold, the light unbelievably unnatural and unbelievably painful, descending upon him like the shudders running through. The very air hummed a rhythmic shamble that became more and more elastic like the gentle ticking of a clock.
Time.
The realization stuck him like a thunderbolt, but he reminded himself that he must remain calm, his expression cool and calculating. What he was feeling here—within the luxurious halls of the Lotus Hotel and Casino—was not just disturbing; it took its wrongness into a whole different realm, far beyond human understanding. He stood in a space untouched by time. He was resisting it, having yet to be under the thrall of the living and alluring spell that had claimed so many.
His companions were hardly as lucky. Annabeth and Grover seemed too comfortable, relaxed, lulled into a false sense of peace by the false paradise. Percy, though, felt something ancient pressing down on him, burning in his veins.
Kronos.
The name whispered through his mind, the thought not yet made real in sound but potent nonetheless. He dug his fingers into his fists, nursed the breath he underwrote. Why did the reflection of his eyes shine with flickers of gold? Why did this place beat in such a familiar rhythm? And why, most importantly, could he have the powers belonging to Poseidon and yet remain unaffected by this place's time magic?
The burning questions prowled about in the corners of his mind, yet Percy dismissed them from his mind for now. There was time for questions later—time when he wasn't standing in the middle of the chaos of the casino.
As he turned away from the fountain, the faint sound of dice rolling drifted over to him. A boy sat at a nearby table, grinning in a way that was distractingly wide, eyes glazed over. Percy could see faint lines of age decorate the boy's youthful face, something which disturbed him immensely. Time had touched him, twisted him, even if the boy himself didn't know it.
The boy noticed Percy staring and laughed-a hollow sound, grating against the rhythm of the room. "It's all fun, really. You can never lose here."
Percy smirked coldly, lowering his voice, keeping it steady. "Is that so?"
The boy nodded, strangely unaware of the sharp edge in Percy's voice. "Yeah, you can stay as long as you like. They'll take care of you forever. No worries, no fuss."
Forever. The word grated against Percy's nerves, and it served as a reminder that there was some magic holding this place captive in a numbing haze of age.
He chose not to respond any longer. He walked deeper into the casino, treading with meaning in his step. The bright flashes and the dreaming sounds of the slots faded to a blur against the racing thoughts of Percy.
Was this some sort of trap designed to entrap him? No, it was more intricate than that. This ancient sanctuary, a trap for lesser minds but a clue for someone like him, held some power. That hum in the air, the beat-the undulation was no coincidence. It whispered of something buried deep in him, evoking memories that were not quite his own, murmurs of power imprisoned deep in his bones.
As he walked, just beyond, he passed an all-mirror corridor. For a fleeting moment he froze, feeling in his vision a reflection staring at him with disembodied clarity. The slight golden glint in his eyes was flaring as he noticed a tug, a pull, towards something vast, something incomprehensible.
The ticking rhythm in the air grew louder.
He exhaled softly, trying to steady himself again. Focus was what he couldn't afford to lose, not here, not now. It was something terrific-something inscrutable that he'd just have time to pick apart later. But those insistent questions continued to bang against the edges of his mind.
Why did Poseidon claim him? The sea god's powers coursed through him, strong and undeniable, but they felt like a façade, a thin veneer for something far older and more dangerous underneath. It was a public claim made by Poseidon, a move on his part. But a nagging sense that it was a lie, an illusion, to distract everyone from the truth was hard to shake.
Who am I, really?
The answer just danced out of reach before him. Every step he took through the casino was like peeling yet another layer of the shield he wore, revealing slivers of a destiny he couldn't yet fathom. He was strong-stronger than any demigod should be. The control he had over water was easy and instinctive, but was nothing compared to the raw, untempered force that still thumped through his skin.
He clenched his jaw as the golden sheen in his eyes recommenced its flash, an indication of the truth buried within him. Percy knew he could not trust the gods-any of them. Poseidon's claim could have been for a reason, but it didn't mean he could trust him. The Olympians were always playing their own games.
He was going to solve their secrets, starting with his own.
But one thing he now knew for certain:
He was the Son of Kronos.
End of chapter 13
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Author's note: I took a two week break, resulting in no chapters last week. I didn't really plan on Percy finding out about his true parentage this early but the way I wrote the previous chapter, I think I had to make him realise it.Thoughts on this chapter? Hope you enjoy.
Update: I probably won't be uploading anything for a month or two as my exams are coming up. Will post again after they are over.