The world was something complex. The world wasn't a reality. It was a mechanism. One that needed to be protected, that needed to be maintained and controlled.

 

This was the duty of the daughters of Ananke. This was their duty to make sure that the world would not fall into Chaos and anarchy. It was their role to make sure the world functioned and they did so through their divine authorities.

 

They controlled and manipulated the lives of every living being and decided their future, their lives and how they would die.

 

They hated unpredictably because this was something that shouldn’t exist within their thread. It was something menacing, a danger to the balance.

 

This is why they should have smitten the creature before them. It took the appearance of an old man with red predatory-slited eyes and dressed sharply in a suit.

 

The stranger, the outsider had appeared in their workshop, in their domain without them inviting him in.

 

The fates knew each thread of the greater tapestry they had been weaving since the beginning of time. They knew each face, each life, each mortal, each immortal and the creature before them wasn't a part of their tapestry.

 

They moved more like a single being divided into three bodies. They released their locks on their authorities taking control of the universe itself, waiting for the good moment to strike yet the creature before them wasn't scared by their display. It seemed amused instead.

 

It bowed softly “Ô, daughters of Ananke, my name is Zelretch and I am here to demand an audience.”

 

The Fates kept their guard up and their authorities ready. They had already dealt with outsiders in the past and those encounters had taught them to always be cautious.

 

“Why shouldn't we eradicate you from existence, you who stepped into this realm,” they spoke in one voice.

 

A savage grin split the face of the creature “Because I have the answer to your problem. Because I can help you prepare this realm for the cosmic war you have been fearing since the creation of the universe.”

 

They couldn't trust the creature but if what it said was true, they couldn't allow themselves to refuse him. They had tried to create a future where victory would be theirs but there was a piece that was missing. The King on the board wasn't strong enough.

 

They'll be able to use him to finally get rid of the golden king and the Earth mother but it wasn't enough. The King wasn’t strong enough, wouldn’t be strong enough, at least this was what they believed before he came.

 

This was a bet, one that could easily prove itself disastrous but their control would not be enough. Maybe Chaos would.

 

“Speak, Zelretch,” and as the outsider before them exposed his plan, the Fates themselves laughed at the absurdity of it all.

 

*scene*

 

Percy Jackson should have killed the Minautor. He would have in an incredible display of strength and skill break the horn of the monster and kill it with it.

 

That's the way things should have gone. That was the path that had been chosen by the fates until the Kaleideoscop made himself known to them.

 

The monster’s form had been fading, disappearing in golden dust like a monster normally should disappear when something impossible happened, the event reversed.

 

The monster changed growing bulkier, even more taller, even more monstrous.

 

“What the fuc-”

 

The words of Percy Jackson were interrupted by a slap of the monster. The Minautor had moved fast, faster than the eye could see and had backhanded the demigod away from him.

 

Percy was sent ragdolling, his back grazing and sliding against the ground as if he were a bowling ball.

 

“It hurts,” he whispered. He felt tired and exhausted. More than that, it was as if something inside had been broken by the strike of the monster.

 

It felt hard and painful to breathe as if he was being suffocated. He wanted all of this to stop. He wanted to wake up from this nightmare. He just wanted his mom back.

 

The ground shook violently as the monster stalked closer to the son of Sally Jackson.

 

‘You have to move,’ his mind screamed at him but everything felt too painful.

 

His body moved without his input, shifting from his previous position with desperation. The leg of the Minautor crushed and cratered the ground, the emplacement where his head had been seconds before.

 

Everything became white and incoherent in the mind of the twelve-year-old when the monster followed with a kick in his guts that sent him flying away again.

 

His form crashed against a tree, broke through it and continued into another one and another one before his lost momentum allowed a tree to stop his impromptu flight.

 

Pain flared through his body, his nerves as if melted iron was being injected into them. His members sat in a way they shouldn't, in a way human limbs shouldn't be able to twist like.

 

His head was hurting so much as if it had been opened and maggots were dancing in it. He could smell the familiar iron of blood. Percy didn't know how but he knew the only reason he wasn't dead, hadn't yet joined his mother was because of the rain.

 

The rain was desperately trying to keep him alive. It was probably because he had been knocked so many times by the Minautor but he could almost hear the rain beg him to survive, to try to move, to try to flee.

 

He felt the monster approach him, his steps the announcement of a death sentence, of Percy’s death sentence. The monster stopped, standing, towering over him like an executioner.

 

His gaze fell on a rock lying at his side. He used all of the strength he could muster and threw it at the face of the monster.

 

It did nothing like Percy knew it would. The rock touched the flesh of the monster and did nothing as if a wall of steel was before him.

 

Something shimmered in the hand of the monster, blue sprites coalescing together and leaving behind the shape of a giant axe, one talker and bigger than Percy.

 

“I don't care about the consequences anymore. I’m coming. Hold on child,” a voice whispered in his ears, probably a delusion of his brain trying to make sense of everything happening.

 

The Minautor’s grip over his axe tightened. The monster moved his goal to bisect Percy in two from his head to his groin.

 

The boy should have died. The strike of the monster was a powerful one, one that left a vacuum itself in the air, one that erased from existence any drop of water, one that left a shockwave through its wake yet Percy survived.

 

The Minautor missed, his perfectly calculated strike derailed. The monster failed in killing the demigod in one strike but it didn't mean the child was left unscathed.

 

The strike had been deviated, not stopped after all. This is why the two of them, monster and child’s gazes fell on something lying on the ground, a human hand precisely.

 

The eyes of Percy widened, The breath of the boy becoming ragged. This was something his mind could not understand. This was something his mind didn't want to understand.

 

With a herculean effort, he tried to grab his left arm hoping that the sight before him was an illusion, that lying on the ground, painting it a dark red wasn't his arm. Blood drenched his palm as blood seeped and spewed everywhere.

 

His mouth open to release a scream but the mind-breaking pain was too much for him to emit a noise.

 

Unbalanced by the loss of his arm, he fell on his right side. The green of his eyes which was so typically vibrant, reminiscent of the sea was now dull, almost lifeless, corpse-like.

 

On the corner of one of his eyes, Percy watched as the bull monster Axe rose again over his prone form.

 

Was this it? Was it all there was to it? Was this how he was going to die? For reasons he didn't even know and understand?

 

Percy didn't want to die. He didn't want to die! He didn't want to die before proving that he wasn't useless, that the faith his mother had in him, the faith that he didn't have in himself was wasted.

 

 

He didn't want to die without being happy. He wanted to have the possibility to get older. He didn't want to die now without proving that everything his mother did to him wasn't worthless.

 

Perseus Jackson yearned for life yet the Axe still fell on the neck of the son of Sally Jackson. There was the feeling of an immense heat on his neck as if the sun itself had scorched the inside of his skin before everything went dark.

 

He fell and rose at the same time. He could see it, he could see Akasha. He was everything and nothing. He was both the void and Perseus Jackson. He was simultaneously none of them.

 

“That is enough I think,” a voice uttered before he felt himself being pulled back, pulled away from the root. He could see a red figure looking at him. Percy knew without a doubt they were enemies.

 

He woke up when he shouldn't have. He could see the retreating form of the Minautorus. ‘Asterios,’ his mind whispered to him.

 

Flesh sprouted at his will connecting his separated head and body. It felt more easy, natural than breathing.

 

He stood up from the ground, another arm growing from his amputated limb. He flexed with the new arm marvelling at the feeling.

 

“Hey!” he screamed. The monster stopped in his tracks. “This is just the beginning, where are you going?”

 

The monster turned to look at him. Percy didn't know how but he could feel confusion and surprise etched in the soul of the monster.

 

The monster was now looking at Percy carefully as if all this time he was playing with a toy in the form of a snake only to realize it was a true snake.

 

 

The boy took a step forward and the monster, the Minautorus himself took one back.

 

Maybe it was anger, maybe it was hatred at the absurdity of it all but the Minautorus crushed the fear he could, let himself be fuelled by the new might he could feel in his core and moved.

 

The monster sang his axe as if it were a bat. The axe moved and released flying invisible destruction.

 

Everything before the axe was erased from existence, the Earth and the Heavens themselves wailed in agony at the unnatural might of the bull of Minos.

 

The Minautorus had seen the way the eyes of the demigod before him had followed perfectly his movement and continued to follow the approaching destruction yet the Demigod, he didn't try to dodge.

 

Instead, his new arm moved and batted away the strike as if it were a bug Sending it flying into the sky above them.

 

Faster than the son of Pasiphae could react, the demigod crossed the distance between the two of them as if he were a spectre straight from Tartarus.

 

A fist, an uppercut met the chin of the monster.  The vision of the son of Pasiphae blacked for an instant. When he regained his senses, he was over the clouds.

 

The monster could feel the anger, the attention of the gods on his form. They were watching everything happening right now and he knew the only reason he hadn't suffered a painful death was because they were as shocked as him, because they were curious.

 

The vision of the Minautorus went downward. The demigod jumped before his eyes cratering and making the Earth cave under them.

 

He had been sent by Lord Hades to kidnap the concubine of the lord of the Ocean and if possible kill the child.

 

He had been expecting a child, one that would easily be vanquished. He had been proven wrong twice.

 

The first one was when he was stabbed with his horn. If it wasn't because of a probable countermeasure of Lord Hades, he would have perished.

 

The second one was when the demigod came back from the grave. It didn't matter if the father of the child had made him inherit almost everything from his domains.

 

It was clear he was before no ordinary demigod if the child could even be called a demigod.

 

His axe had remained in his steady grip, following him. The monster moved, spinning in the air and at the end of his rotation threw his axe at the child. No, the being before him wasn’t a demigod. It was a monster.

 

The axe flew true but the boy didn't try to dodge as if he knew nothing would touch him. This was the confidence, the carelessness only a supreme being could exude.

 

The axe stopped just before touching the face of the child. Asterios watched him smile. It was an innocent one, one full of wonder that made the monster truly look like what it appeared.

 

Maybe it was a distortion of light, his vision failing him or maybe his imagination but he saw {something} shine in the eyes of the monster before his axe flew back at him faster than he had thrown it.

 

The instincts of the son of Pasiphaë saved him making him twist. As if it was a mockery, the axe sliced his left arm away from his body.

 

Fear and the strange energy inside of him surged, fuelling him and strengthening him. He wouldn’t fall here, not to a bastard of Poseidon, not to the brother of Theseus.

 

His roar split the sky as if he were its master. The minautorus grew taller, bulkier and more human-like.

 

His horns grew and turned red taking the color of freshly spilled blood. His face morphed, changing, taking a human appearance, one closer to a certain witch goddess. White hair whiter than snow erupted from his head to cover his shoulders.

 

The Minautorus had closed his eyes and Asterios opened his. He wasn’t fighting to kill anymore. He was fighting to survive.

 

The voice of the demigod exploded in laughter as he ascended, shaking the Earth as if it were a tangible force. Under them, mortals and demigods feared and the world tried to protect the mundane from his madness.

 

“You have a second form too!” the monster under the disguise of a child yelled in delight at Asterios.

 

Asterios moved, bending the air trying to escape, to go away from the child. He clapped his hand in the direction of the monster.

 

A wave was released, cutting and crushing everything on its path toward the child. The goal wasn’t to hurt. Asterios knew it would be impossible. The goal was to make the monster slow down.

 

It wasn’t what happened. The boy’s fist moved and encountered the wave of destruction with a good world-shaking BOOM.

 

The force released sent Asterios flying uncontrollably. His impromptu flight was stopped when his back met something underlying, a barrier of mystical means, the barrier of Camp Half-blood.

 

His gaze met the terrified one of demigods watching, looking at how the world stopped making sense.

 

Percy hadn’t stopped moving. He reached the distracted Minautorus and grabbed one of his horns.

 

The Minautorus tried to move away but the grip of Percy was more than ironclad.

 

With a flick of his will, his axe reappeared in his hand. The minautorus swang it at the neck of the son of Poseidon.

 

The axe moved rendering for an instant the air hotter than the surface of the sun for a brief instant.

 

This was a strike capable of rendering null a mountain, capable of making an island shake at the violence of it. It was a strike in the realm of the gods.

 

The axe broke against the neck of the son of Sally Jackson. The boy retaliated immediately.

 

He punched the head of the Minautorus releasing a shockwave that travelled through the entrails of the Earth.

 

The back of the Head of the monster crushed against the barrier and bounced back. The grip of the boy had remained on the horn of Asterios.

 

The eyes of the boys gleamed mischievously. His eyes flickered all over the invisible barrier as if he could see it as if he could understand it.

 

“Let's make an experiment,” the boy whispered. “Let's see if it is truly that durable.”

 

The boy crashed the side of the face of the monster against the barrier and moved. He moved dragging the face of the son of Pasiphae onto the barrier.

 

The Minautorus, a monster as old if not older than Greece itself, the enforcer of Hades who killed hundreds of demigods screamed in pain.

 

Asterios could feel his flesh being torn off, his skin destroyed leaving behind only flesh and blood.

 

Asterios wished in that moment he was lesser. If he had been, he wouldn’t have suffered this agony, he would have immediately died.

 

The demigod spun, Asterios in his grip and threw him toward the forest surrounding camp Half-blood.

 

The form of Asterios went through tree after tree, through rocks and the vegetation as if he were a scythe of destruction.

 

Asterios pushed through the pain and moved, his feet digging through the ground trying to stop himself. His feet let gouges as he slid through the Earth.

 

Asterios saw the boy coming closer. He sent a punch with all his might. The boy copied his gesture.

 

Their fists met. A wave of something was released on contact. Around the two of them, the Earth exploded in rubble but instead of falling, they rose defying gravity.

 

Asterios sent another punch and another one and another one and another one but each one of them was met by the smiling demigod.

 

“You took everything from me!” the monster before Asterios screamed. “You took and gave me everything!”

 

Their fists met again and Asterios’ arm bent, broken. Even then, he tried to hit the demigod with his still-functional one.

 

The demigod chose this time to move. The punch sailed over his head as the child entered the guard of Asterios.

 

One of the hands of the demigod touches the chest of Asterios softly, almost kindly.

 

The smile on Percy’s face became less wild, more human “I can see more than I’ve ever done. I can understand more than I've ever done. You're what you are and it is not your fault. You have only been a pawn but even then, I can't forget. I can’t forgive you.”

 

A bright red light began to shine from the place where the boy was touching Asterios.

 

“Phase, Pāramitā, and Pillar of Light,” the boy chanted softly. A sigh escaped Asterios. He knew it already. He was already dead. He just hadn’t known it.

 

Convergence made itself known to reality. It announced its coming by illuminating the world in a bright red.

 

One moment, the Minautorus stood. The next one, he was gone, not even leaving behind atoms.

 

The convergence didn't stop after erasing the Minautorus. It flew in the sky, tearing itself a path in the rain and the cloud before exploding with an ear-shattering boom creating for a brief instant a red sun in the sky.

 

Percy sighed. He just wished all of this was just a fantasy created by his hyperactive mind but he knew the truth. No one could fool themselves after seeing the root. He couldn't forget even if he wished for it.

 

The world was different to his eyes. It was as if all this time, he had been blind and now, he could finally see.

 

More than seeing, he could understand. He could read the world around him as if it was a book. It wasn't even something he had to think about. It came instinctively without his input.

 

Images of monsters, of battles, of war invaded his mind. He could see spectres, flashes of children his age dying gruesomely. Images of a blonde girl with grey eyes hiding behind a taller blond boy. Images of a black-haired girl with electric blue eyes slammed into his mind. The Earth under him was drenched in blood he realized. He was probably the only one who could see it. He had been walking all this time in a cemetery.

 

He tried to ignore it, close his eyes but nothing changed. He could still see. ‘Focus Percy’ he whispered to himself. ‘Focus.’ He walked toward where he knew Grover was without a doubt. The satyr was still unconscious but his chest was moving and he had been lucky to have been untouched by everything that just happened.

 

He felt happiness and anger looking at Grover. Logically, he knew it wasn’t the fault of Grover yet the human part of him whispered that maybe if he hadn't met Grover, maybe none of this would have happened, maybe he would still have his mom.

 

He moved the unconscious body of Grover, cradling it into his arms before beginning to walk toward the barrier that separated camp Half-blood from the rest of the world.

 

Percy stopped before it. He could see a crowd, hundreds of kids his age and older looking at him with fear and suspicion.

 

He could feel, almost taste the fear in their hearts. They were scared. They were scared of him.

 

Two people parted away from the crowd, two adults who were coming forward. Percy took a deep breath and crossed the barrier.

 

They were still at least fifty meters away from him but Percy could see their faces. One of the adults was a familiar one. Approaching him was Mr Brunner. The only difference was that now, Mr Brunner had the lower half of a horse because why not?  He wore some kind of armour on the human half of his body

 

The other one was tall and something screamed in his mind that he was the biggest threat here if anything were to happen. He was tall looking like a quarterback He had purple eyes that screamed of madness, curls so dark they almost seemed purple. He was dressed in what Percy recognized as a purple Greek chiton. Mayb-

 

His thoughts were cut away by his body, his soul screaming at him that death was coming from above.

 

He raised his head and there, falling from the sky was a giant lightning bolt, one bigger than any lightning bolt Percy had ever seen.

 

It came screaming and burning. It was unnaturally fast even for a lightning bolt. Percy’s gaze lost itself in the fiery death coming from above. He wasn't scared even though all of his instincts screamed at him to run, to flee.

 

A whisper, no an Aria escaped from the lips of the son of Sally Jackson “At the beginning, the First changed all.”

 

The lightning had wanted to grant him death, nothingness but he had seen it. He had understood a fraction of infinity, a fraction of true [nothingness]. Wasn’t a fraction of infinity still infinity?

 

The lightning fell and was denied. The lightning fuelled by the divine was destroyed. The world stopped at the impossibility.

 

“Impossible,” the purple-eyed man whispered. Mr. Brunner was looking at him with surprise and was this relief? The campers had all taken a step back.

 

Percy watched as their gazes left him to look over his head. He followed their gazes to find a giant Trident shining and standing proudly over him. He didn't know how but he could feel pride and love coming from the trident.

 

They all kneeled except the purple-eyed man.

 

“All hail Perseus Jackson son of the Earth-shaker, the lord of the third surrounding the world, horse progenitor!”

 

Over him, the trident shifted, changing shape, taking the appearance of a man “Lord of sailors, God-king of Atlantis.”

 

When Percy looked behind him, his gaze met one almost identical to his “I'm happy to see you the way I can see you now, child of mine” the man before him spoke.