Chapter Text
Have you ever stood in front of a bomb about to explode?
I don’t mean one of those cartoonish round bombs with a sparkling fuse. I mean a real one. The kind that emits a low, barely audible hum that makes your teeth vibrate. The kind you just know, with every fiber of your being, is about to tear the world in half at any moment.
Well. Fine.
Now add that this bomb is the damn sun.
Literally.
And it’s staring at the boy you’re trying to protect like he’s a beam of moonlight made flesh—right before deciding it’s going to tuck him in its pocket forever.
The worst part was that I knew exactly what was coming, because I had already read it. I had read it, and I had laughed in the comments, and I had obsessed over the tragedy.
Only now, the tragedy was staring me in the face. And it wasn’t so entertaining when it was about to swallow the only friend I had in this cursed timeline.
Apollo spoke as if every syllable was a verse sculpted by the Muses themselves. As if the air turned to music just to carry his thoughts. As if the voice of a god could be nothing short of a damn masterpiece.
“You…” he whispered again, and his gaze settled on Percy like he was seeing him in the light for the first time. “You are… perfection. I’ve been searching for you for years without knowing you were what I was missing.”
And then it happened. The facade fell. The mortal skin cracked—but not in pain. In glory. His disguise vanished, and his body was no longer limited by anything human. And for the first time in my life, I understood what it meant to stand before something sacred… and want to punch it for being so damn perfect.
He had the body of a warrior carved from marble—tall and graceful—with the impossible symmetry of a classical statue brought to life. Every muscle looked like it had been sculpted by the same artists who adorned temples, as if his flesh had been molded by the Platonic ideal of masculine beauty.
His skin wasn’t sun-kissed; he was the sun. Brilliant. Radiant. Not blinding, but impossible to ignore. And his hair… it wasn’t just blonde. It was gold. A deep, ancient gold that fell in soft waves to his shoulders, framing a face no human had any right to possess. His nose was straight, his jaw firm, and his lips looked like they had been crafted to either kiss or destroy, depending on the whim of the moment.
But his eyes… his eyes were the worst.
If I used to think they were beautiful, now that I was seeing him in his full divine glory, I couldn’t find a single word that did them justice.
They were suns.
Two molten stars that forced me to look and look away all at once, because staring at them for too long was like gazing straight into the heart of fire. It hurt. And still, it was beautiful.
And they were fixed on Percy.
Percy, who stood in front of me. Tense. Furious. Protecting me.
Percy, whose eyes lit up with recognition the moment Apollo shed his human shell. Of course they knew each other. In a distant future, maybe, but they knew.
“Your soul shines like mine,” Apollo said, raising an open hand to his chest like he could show him an invisible mirror. “It’s written in every thread of the cosmos. We’ve been calling each other unknowingly since before we were born. You don’t have to fight anymore. I’ve found you. We’re whole now.”
The smile he gave Percy was radiant. It was love in its rawest form. Twisted. Desperate. Convincing. And frankly, terrifying.
A tremor in the air, like the world was holding its breath… and suddenly, the light exploded.
“Come,” said Apollo, without raising his voice. But his word became law. Became reality.
A golden light burst from his outstretched palm, warm and gentle at first… then brutal. As if the sun itself had taken shape to seize Percy. I watched the energy wrap around his chest, crawl up his arms, encircle his neck, like it was trying to fuse with him. It wasn’t an attack. It was a claim.
I screamed. Pure reflex. My body threw itself forward on impulse, but Percy was faster. He shoved me aside—hard—trying to move me out of the direct line of the spell. His feet dug into the ground as he resisted the pull of the light, his face tight, jaw clenched, as if fighting the will of a god was something that could be done through sheer stubbornness.
But he couldn’t. The light was dragging him. Pulling him with a force no demigod could ever hope to overcome.
Something dark and thick rose through my chest, my hands, my legs. It wasn’t fear—it was a force that responded to fear. Nyx’s teachings, her words, her promises, her essence—they all stirred within me.
The shadows burst forth as if they had been waiting.
Dark, fast, alive. They hurled themselves at Apollo’s light with violence, a brutal clash of opposites that made the air around us vibrate. The room seemed to tremble. The flames of the torches flickered. The god’s power was still stronger, his rays fought to burn them away, but my shadows held, pushed back, bit into the light, forcing it to retreat even if just a step.
Percy understood immediately. He grabbed my wrist, eyes blazing with resolve.
“Run!”
And boy, did we run.
The shadows rose around us, forming a shield that held the light at bay. It wouldn’t last long. I knew it. Percy did too. The temple doors were far, but each step felt lighter than the one before. My heart pounded, not just from running but from the heat of that light at our heels, brushing against us, threatening to swallow us at any second.
A roar of rage echoed behind us. An inhuman scream.
It shattered the air, shook the columns of the temple, sent doves scattering into a frantic flight. It was the fury of something ancient, something divine, something that had never been disobeyed. And we were disobeying it. Percy didn’t stop. He didn’t even look back. He just pulled me harder, as if his will could compete with the sun itself. The shadows remained at our backs, thinning, weakening, fighting to keep the scorching light away.
We reached the last steps. The marble beneath our feet gave way to rough stone. The air changed, no longer thick with incense or divine pressure. We made it. We were outside.
We hadn’t even finished breathing in our freedom when the world trembled again.
A blast of heat materialized in front of us. The air ignited. The ground cracked beneath us. And there, standing in the middle of the stone path, was him.
Apollo.
“Are you running from me?” His voice rang like a bell in the void—soft and terrible at once. “After seeing me, feeling me? After recognizing me?”
Percy stepped forward, still holding my hand. “You’re insane. I just see a crazy guy saying crazy things. Leave us alone,” he snapped, with a calm only fools or real heroes can fake in front of a god. The fury in Apollo intensified.
“This isn’t a choice, demigod. The thread is woven. The bond exists. The cosmos told me. Fate told me. The first breath you ever took told me!” He turned to me, voice still burning. “And you... you tried to steal him from me.”
The light radiating from him grew brighter, more alive, more dangerous, as if every cell in his body screamed for divine justice for having his perfect moment torn away—the moment when he was meant to find Percy. His soulmate.
And I... I had stood right in the way.
His gaze wasn’t disappointed or frustrated. It was hate. Pure, searing hatred that knocked the air from my lungs.
And for a second, honestly, I thought he was going to burn me alive.
My legs trembled. A thin layer of cold sweat slid down my back. My instinct screamed at me to run, but my feet didn’t move. Maybe because I knew it was useless to run from the sun itself.
Jesus. Oh God. Holy Mary. Saint Michael. Saint Jude. Saint Whoever.
I started praying every single thing I knew—Our Father, Hail Mary, even my school’s breakfast prayer. And the worst part was, none of them had even been born yet. Jesus didn’t exist. I couldn’t even rely on the popular saints.
I was alone. Completely alone.
“You dared,” Apollo whispered, like he was spitting venom. “A worthless human dared to use dirty tricks to steal what is mine.”
Percy, dumb son of Poseidon, fearless and self-worthless, stepped between us again. Fists clenched, chest out, radiating the kind of conviction only someone who’s already beaten gods can carry.
“Leave my friend alone. You won’t hurt her. And I’m not yours,” he said, and he said it so damn firmly that, for a moment, I believed the whole earth would fall in line with him.
But Apollo’s gaze didn’t change. If anything, it grew crueler.
And still, he wasn’t looking at Percy. He was looking at me. As if I were the thief of his happiness. As if my greatest sin had been being born and crossing his path.
Apollo took another step, and a beam of light erupted from his hand—brighter than the entire temple, fiercer than the noon sun. On instinct, I threw my arms up to shield myself.
I didn’t even have time to scream.
Because before the light could reach me, Percy raised a hand. His other hand shoved me aside, and the air changed.
A new vibration surged—powerful, ancient. The sky darkened for just one second—one exact second—as if the sea itself was breathing through it. Then the earth beneath the god’s feet split open with a deafening crack.
A liquid explosion drenched everything. It wasn’t water. No. It was wine. Beer. Mead. Everything the village had offered that morning in ritual sacrifice came pouring down like absurd, sticky rain—straight onto Apollo.
It soaked him. His robes, his skin, even his divine light.
Percy had used his domain—controlling the liquids hidden underground, in jars, in the banquet amphoras meant for the temple’s celebration. Apollo flinched, stunned. Not hurt. Never hurt. But the blow to his pride was as clear as crystal.
“Wine?” he spat in disgust. “You attack me with wine!?”
The village, meanwhile, had descended into complete chaos. Screams rang out the moment Apollo’s light intensified, and when the ground cracked, people scattered in all directions. Women with pitchers, limping elders, crying children. All the post-war rebuilding, all the beauty of the temple, was now lost under a chorus of “A god is angry!”, “Blasphemy!”, “Run, run, run!”
And I... I could barely blink.
Percy didn’t stop. “I don’t want to fight you,” he growled, and though it sounded sincere, there was fury in his voice, “but I won’t let you touch her or take me.”
Apollo straightened. Brilliant. Radiant. Like a star that hadn’t exploded yet but was just about to. His hair, drenched in wine, shimmered with golden threads evaporating into sacred steam.
His eyes no longer glowed with love. Now, they burned with a pain so deep, so unfathomable, it hurt just to look at him.
“Why…?” he whispered at first, but his voice broke. “Why won’t you come with me?”
No one answered.
“Why do you choose her over me?!” he screamed, and light exploded from his chest like he had torn a piece of himself out just to throw it at us.
The ground cracked again.
“Your soul is mine!” Apollo roared, every word soaked in light, in desperation, in the kind of rage that only comes from loving someone so much you no longer know what to do with that love. “Mine! The cosmos wove you for me, Perseus. How dare you reject me?!”
Percy took the first step. It felt like all the fire he had been holding back since Apollo first spoke his name suddenly erupted in his chest, and the only way to release it was through force.
His war cry was silent—just a roar inside his own chest. His eyes darkened like a sea storm, and he moved so fast I barely saw the sword rise before he launched himself at a god.
A god who didn’t move. At first.
Apollo’s smile vanished. He dodged at the last second—not out of fear, but with elegance, like someone playing. He held no weapon, but each of his movements left behind trails of light so dense they seemed like blades. He wasn’t attacking to kill, that was obvious. It was more like a dance—an attempt to surround, to trap, to immobilize. Like he wanted to wrap Percy in light until he couldn’t move anymore.
But Percy didn’t let him.
The son of Poseidon summoned his heritage with a fury I had never seen in him before. The earth split beneath his feet with a muted rumble, and even though there was no water nearby, an overturned tavern, some shattered barrels, and all the stored wine and beer rose in thick whirlwinds, following him like liquid whips. The air smelled of spilled alcohol and ancient power, of war.
People screamed. They ran through the dirt streets, fleeing as if an entire army had descended upon them. And in a way, one had. An army of two. A god in love. A hero done with it all. And me—caught in the middle, with the mark of Nyx burning on my skin.
And then, Apollo decided it was enough.
He raised his hands to the sky, as if summoning a storm of gold, and a surge of energy rained down toward Percy. Magic. Blazing light, woven with more than just heat. It was made of fate. Of bonds.
Percy raised his sword, but it was too fast. Too much. Too sudden.
I reached out, and the shadows obeyed me.
They rose from my back like broken wings—a blast of blackness that didn’t absorb the light, but stopped it. Contained it. Devoured it. They collided in the air like two forces that were never meant to touch. And for one second—just one—everything went still.
Apollo’s gaze turned to me, burning with rage. A fury so scalding it froze me from the inside.
“You again!” he spat, his voice tearing through the air. “Parasitic shadow! Who do you think you are to come between a god and what belongs to him?”
His shout still hung in the air when Percy lunged at him.
No warning. No truce. Just a quick, direct strike, full of protection, fear, and fury. Protection for me. Fear for his freedom. Fury for the life Apollo wanted to steal and trap in a golden cage.
The golden glow flickered—too late.
Apollo could’ve defended himself. He could’ve summoned enough light to burn the world. He could’ve stopped the blade with a gesture, a blink, a single word.
But defending himself meant hurting Percy.
And that was the one thing he couldn’t allow.
The blade sliced through his side.The snap of divine flesh breaking was as silent as it was brutal. No blood spilled—only ichor. Thick, pure gold poured down in liquid threads to the ground. Apollo gasped, not from pain, but from shock. As if he couldn’t believe it had actually happened to him.
To a god. An eternal being.
Wounded by the one person who was supposed to love him above all else.
Percy looked at him wide-eyed, expecting backlash, divine punishment, heavenly wrath.
But Apollo didn’t move.
He just looked down, still stunned, at the glow spilling from his own body.
And I… I was frozen.
“Giuliana!” Percy’s voice—in English—shook me like thunder. “Can you take us?! Now!”
I looked at him. His face was tense, sweat dripping down his temple. The wine, the fight, Apollo’s wound—all of it clung to his skin. Take us? What did he mean by take us?
“Can you shadow-travel or not?!” he shouted again, urgent.
My eyes widened in realization, and I stammered in surprise—of course, shadow-travel, I should be able to do that. I searched my memory, the knowledge gifted to me by Nyx—and there it was. The shadows around me trembled, waiting. Like they were saying, Just give the order, and we’ll open the way.
When Percy was at my side, I grabbed him tightly—much to Apollo’s rage, who had recovered from the shock and was now striding toward us—and I pulled off my best Nico di Angelo.
And let the darkness swallow us.
The world split in two.
Not literally, of course. The air turned thick, heavy, a mix of smoke and vacuum. There was no up or down, just a sense of falling and crushing pressure, like we were being dragged through a tunnel made of liquid night. I felt Percy clinging to me with the same force I held onto him. I couldn’t see him, but I could feel him—tense, alert, panting from the run, from the fight, from the fear.
Then, the voices.
Not ours.
Echoes.
Voices that didn’t belong to any living throat. Whispers tangled in my hair, in my ears, as if the darkness wanted to tell me secrets I was never meant to know. Phrases in dead tongues, muffled laughter, distant sobs.
Very soon, some said.
You are ours… we are yours, murmured others.
And amid those whispers, the shadow itself trembled, chaotic, angry, like it was reacting to a misfired command.
Because yes, Nyx had shown me how.
But never how much.
And clearly, I had gone too far.
We hit the ground with a hard thud.
We rolled across wet stone, me groaning as my hip slammed into the floor, Percy cursing under his breath. Everything hurt. My head was spinning, my stomach churning, like I’d just been flung off a roller coaster straight into the abyss without brakes.
We were in the dark—not like before, not the kind that whispered. This one was quieter. Like a cave, or a basement, or some forgotten corner of the world.
"Are you okay?" Percy panted, still catching his breath.
"I don’t know," I answered, as my mind switched into doctor mode and assessed my physical state. Other than the pain… I was fine.
My hands were shaking. I could still feel Apollo’s heat behind us, as if his light had burned into my soul. But he hadn’t reached us. Not yet, anyway.
The first thing Percy did was move. No break, no pause to process what had just happened. The moment he made sure I was alive, he was already on his feet, taking short steps, feeling around the edges of the space with his palms, measuring, searching for exits. His whole body was still in battle mode.
I, on the other hand, was still sitting on the floor, my back pressed to the nearest wall, breathing like I’d just run a marathon with a dragon chasing me. Which… wasn’t that far from the truth.
Percy touched an opening in the stone and muttered something under his breath. A thin, golden ray of light filtered in through a crack in the ceiling. It wasn’t a real hole—more like a slit, a tiny fracture in the rock, just enough to let the brightness of midday through.
He stepped closer.
I sat up instantly.
“No!” I shouted, louder than I meant to.
Percy turned around at once, alert, surprised, eyebrows knit together. He looked at me like he was about to ask if the fall had knocked something loose in my head.
“What?”
“Don’t look. Don’t go near that light,” I said, my voice trembling more than I wanted. I walked toward him, eyes fixed on the glow. “It’s just… if he’s the god of the sun, maybe Apol—”
His hand shot up and clamped over my mouth before I could finish. I froze.
His eyes were wide, serious. Almost afraid.
“Don’t say his name,” he whispered harshly. “Don’t say it. Not his. Not any of theirs.”
I stared at him. It took me a second to understand, but when I did, I nodded slowly. He lowered his hand.
“You think it’ll summon him? But we’ve said gods’ names before without a problem,” I whispered, barely audible.
Percy didn’t respond right away. His jaw was tight.
“They weren’t looking for us before. And now? We don’t know if he’ll tell anyone,” he replied hoarsely. “We can’t risk it. Not after what just happened.”
Percy sat down against a wall, rubbing his arm with an expression I couldn’t quite read. It wasn’t fear—not entirely. But there was exhaustion. Pain. Confusion. And anger. The anger still burned behind his eyes, restrained, like a sea that hadn’t finished crashing into the shore.
I sat beside him. I hesitated before speaking, but I knew I had to.
“When you left me alone in the room…”
Percy turned his face toward me. He didn’t say anything, just waited.
“I got swallowed by the dark. Literally. The shadows pulled me in, and I fell somewhere else.” I ran a hand through my hair, the knot in my throat tightening again. “There… I met something. Someone. An entity. I didn’t see her exactly, but it was the night.”
Percy frowned.
“The night?”
“Nyx,” I said quietly, and Percy’s eyes widened in recognition. “The primordial goddess. She… claimed me. Said she felt something of herself in me. That I crossed into her domain when I came here. That I… absorbed part of her essence.”
Percy didn’t speak immediately. He was thinking—I could see it in his face.
“And how are you still alive?” he finally asked, in that dry tone he used when something bothered him but he was willing to accept it.
“Apparently I’m pretty funny. I think she liked me. I told her that in this world full of heroes I needed protection, that it wasn’t my fault and that… well…” I blushed and couldn’t finish the sentence.
“What?” Percy asked, curiosity peeking through.
“I said I wanted to protect you too,” I mumbled, unable to meet his eyes.
Percy didn’t say anything at first.
And honestly, that was worse than any answer.
The silence stretched, and my heart—my damn traitor of a heart—was pounding so hard it hurt. Why did I say that? Why did I say it like that? I couldn’t look at him. I just couldn’t. All I could do was stare at the floor while the blush crept up my neck like a rising tide.
I wanted to think clearly, but how could I when I had someone like him sitting right there?
Because how do you not develop feelings when Percy Jackson holds you while you’re shaking, defends you without hesitation, and doesn’t look at you with fear even after you’ve used a power you don’t understand? How do you not lose your mind a little when he looks at you like you actually matter to him?
My mind was a mess, but every part of me—every breath, every heartbeat—screamed the same thing: I like you. I like you, and I’m falling for you, and I don’t know what to do about it.
Then he spoke.
“That was…” he started, and his voice wasn’t mocking or distant. It was soft, a little unsure, like he wasn’t entirely sure how to process it. “That was really brave of you.”
I looked up slowly, afraid of what I’d find on his face.
But no.
Percy Jackson’s cheeks were flushed.
He was blushing.
And not just that—he rubbed the back of his neck like he didn’t know what to do with himself, with his mouth, with the emotion someone had just dropped on him like a bomb even though they’d only been in his life for less than a week and had already dragged him into chaos and godly battles.
A crooked smile crossed his face—one he tried to hide, but failed.
“I’m the experienced demigod, remember?” he said with a soft laugh. “I’m supposed to be the one doing the protecting here.”
My heart pounded even harder—if that was possible without killing me.
I couldn’t let that sweetness slip away.
“Well… I’m officially Nyx’s champion now. I guess we’ll have to rewrite the roles,” I said, trying to sound confident. I was shocked my voice didn’t shake, because inside, I was trembling like jelly.
He let out another laugh, this one more genuine, and looked up. His eyes met mine, and I swear time slowed down just to give me that moment.
“I guess so.”
Nothing else was needed.
We stayed in silence—not too close, not too far. Just enough for me to see his eyes and wonder if it was possible to feel this much for someone you’d technically just met… though, if I thought about it, I’d known him for years. In stories. In dreams. In fanfics.
And now he was here. Alive. Real. Thanking me.
“Thanks,” he murmured, like that word was enough to repay everything. And it was. Because it was him who said it.
I nodded, feeling the smile tremble on my lips.
“That’s what friends are for,” I whispered.
The silence between us grew heavier as the shadows stretched around us. Outside, beyond the cracks in the rock, there was no trace of the sun—just a starry night sky, heavy and still, like the universe was breathing quietly. We’d spent hours without talking much, just regaining our strength, in a tense calm that neither of us dared to break.
Eventually, Percy stood up. He walked to the mouth of what we assumed was a cave and stopped just before stepping out. His eyes, trained to read threats, scanned the darkness as if it might betray us at any moment.
“I’m not sure,” he murmured without turning around. “He might’ve sent his sister. To watch. To hunt.”
He didn’t say names, but I knew exactly who he meant—Artemis.
I stood slowly, still sore, and walked over to him in silence. I placed a gentle hand on his back.
“It’s night,” I said, like that explained everything. “The night… it’s my turf now. Well, not mine-mine. My new boss’s.”
Percy turned his head just slightly, raising an eyebrow with a smile that was way too attractive for my own good.
“Your new boss?” he repeated casually, though his eyes sparkled with amusement. “Sounds like you changed jobs. Too bad… you look pretty good in that uniform.”
It caught me completely off guard. Heat rose up my neck and spread across my cheeks like a traitorous wave. I choked on air, blinking rapidly like that could stop my face from spontaneously combusting.
All that came out was a garbled noise and my brain screaming: Say something! Do something! Breathe, at least!
But he just laughed softly, genuinely, and winked before stepping outside first.
A second later, I followed him, heart pounding way too fast—but I ignored what he’d said. I’d think about it later.
“Well,” I said, falling into step beside him with a smile I tried to pass off as indifferent, “technically, I didn’t sign a contract, but she marked me, gave me power, and let me live… so yeah, sort of the worst job interview in history.”
He looked at me in silence for a few seconds. Then he sighed.
“And you’re sure she can keep us safe?”
I shrugged.
“Not entirely. But if he’s the day… She’s the night. And this…” I looked out into the darkness, “this belongs to me now, at least a little. I can feel it. Like a net. Like… if something tries to touch us, I’ll know.”
The night rose around us. Deep. Vast. Still. Not silent, but peaceful. I glanced around.
“It was definitely a cave,” I muttered with a bit of irony. “Convenient that the shadows threw us here and not, I don’t know, into the mouth of a volcano.”
“Very thoughtful,” Percy added, inspecting the entrance. “I like them.”
We walked in silence, leaving the cave behind. The terrain was rocky, dry, with low shrubs that crackled underfoot. The moon, high above us, cast long shadows that seemed to follow, as if still protecting us. But despite their presence, we both knew we weren’t safe yet.
We had no idea where we were. No landmarks. No distant torches. Just open land and the distant call of an owl.
“Are we actually going somewhere or just pretending we’re not lost?” I asked, trying to sound light, though exhaustion was eating me alive.
“Any direction that doesn’t lead straight to the psychotic sun works for me,” Percy replied without looking back.
The joke made me smile—barely. My body ached. My head throbbed. We hadn’t really slept. We hadn’t eaten. Percy was worse off: he’d fought a god and escaped death twice. And still, he kept walking. For me.
I pressed my lips together. We needed a vantage point. A hill or something to spot a settlement.
“Maybe if we climb that,” I said, pointing to a nearby rise.
“Sure,” he nodded. “But if we find another army, I vote we hide first and ask questions later.”
“I vote for sleeping on a rock and pretending we don’t exist.”
We smiled. Tired. In sync.
We started climbing. The terrain was uneven, but the shadows whispered the way—where to step, where not to. Slowly but safely, we made it to the top. And then we saw it.
Fire. Camps.
“You see that?” Percy asked, nodding toward the distance.
“Yeah. Fires. Tents. Men… too many.” I swallowed hard. “We took out a bunch of Achaeans, and HE is Troy’s patron god. None of them are friendly.”
Before he could answer, a sharp noise echoed through the hills. A crack. Then another. The ground beneath our feet shifted. I slipped to the side.
“Giuliana!” Percy shouted, trying to grab me, but in the motion, he lost balance too.
We rolled in opposite directions. I ended up on the right side of the hill, face-down in the dirt. Percy was on the other side, completely out of sight.
“Percy!” I yelled, heart in my throat.
“I’m fine!” His voice came from farther than I expected. Too far. I couldn’t see him.
I scrambled up the best I could—but then I heard voices. Shouts. Footsteps. An army.
Torchlight flared at the top of the hill, and I didn’t have time to run. The shadows tried to shield me, protect me, but they weren’t ready. I wasn’t ready. I was too tired.
A spear grazed my cheek. Another struck my legs and threw me to the ground.
“Don’t move!” someone shouted.
I tried to rise. I couldn’t. They grabbed my arms. Another soldier hit me on the back of the head. I collapsed.
And just before I blacked out, the last thing I saw on the opposite slope was a blue flash, a sword drawn, and Percy’s figure—fighting back.