PJO: Son of a Primordial

{Tartarus, Unknown Time}

Odysseus POV

The gravity pulled at me like the hand of a titan, ripping me from Kronos and flinging me across Tartarus with a blinding speed. The black mass, now a part of me, surged up from the ground and caught me mid-flight, setting me down on the unstable surface. My knees buckled, and I fell once again as my right leg crumbled to ash. The pain was searing, constant—a reminder that my body was disintegrating faster than I could heal it.

The tar-like shadows swirled, rebuilding my leg with their inky substance. I clenched my spear, ready to teleport back to Kronos, to end this, but before I could, he appeared again.

Tartarus.

He loomed before me, thirty feet tall, the same size as me now, yet somehow infinitely more imposing. His black armor glistened, the screaming form of monsters in his armor the ever present reminder of what could happen.

Behind him floated hundreds of massive weapons, each radiating a deep, purple aura that screamed of malice. I could feel his power pressing down on me, a force of gravity so intense it threatened to crush my bones to dust.

But there was something else. As I looked at him, really looked, I could see his aura, an aura of a primordial—a thick, deep red, almost black, swirling around him like smoke from a dying fire. It was different from Kronos, different from anything I had seen before. And yet... I could fight him. I could feel it in my bones, no matter how brittle they were becoming. If I could just push through him, kill Kronos—this could all end.

But my body was failing. My right elbow turned to ash mid-thought, crumbling away like brittle paper. The tar stitched me back together, slower this time, as though the effort was draining the very essence of my existence.

"Did you think you could escape me?!" Tartarus bellowed, his voice splitting the air like a thousand mountains shattering at once. "I am the Abyss personified! And you're in my domain!"

"You can't blame me for trying," I said, gathering more of the black mass for the impending battle. The tar responded to my will, swirling around me in a protective cocoon.

The weapons behind him launched forward, each one a massive, jagged instrument of torment. They radiated an energy that dug into more than just flesh—it cut at the soul. I could feel the weight of them as they hurtled toward me, the sheer inevitability of the pain they promised.

I waved my hand, and thousands of bolts of darkness spewed out, meeting the weapons head-on. Metal and darkness, abyss and shadow clashed. The very essence of Tartarus itself seemed to falter in our clash, the air crackling with energy. But Tartarus was relentless. For every weapon I deflected, two more took its place. A sword made its way through my defense, the tip of the blade mere inches from my face—

I teleported behind Tartarus in a blur of shadows, reappearing just as my spear—now blackened with the same tar that held me together—thrust forward. The tip aimed straight for his back, the strike filled with all the fury I had left. But before I could land the blow, Tartarus spun with a speed that belied his massive frame, and the gravity shifted again. I felt it hit me like a tidal wave, driving me to the ground, crushing the air from my lungs.

Hundreds of weapons hovered in the air above me, a momentary pause before they would all crash down and end me. But I wasn't done yet. With a roar that tore at my disintegrating throat, I summoned every ounce of power I had left. The black tar beneath me surged upward, forming a massive shield above me. The weapons crashed against it, the impact shaking the very foundations of Tartarus.

I struggled to my feet, my body trembling with the effort of maintaining the shield. More of me crumbled away—my hip, the right side of my face—but I pushed on. The tar worked overtime, desperately trying to keep me whole as I poured everything I had into this defense.

Tartarus laughed, a sound that sent shivers down my spine. "You are nothing," he growled. "Now die."

He raised his hand, and I felt the crushing weight of gravity intensify. My knees buckled, and I fell to the ground once more. The shield above me began to crack, the weapons slowly but surely breaking through.

I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to look up at Tartarus. "Is that... all you've got?" I managed to gasp out.

His eyes narrowed, a smile forming on his face, he really was a sadistic son of a bitch.

The shield above me shattered, raining fragments of solidified darkness around me. I lay there, pinned to the ground by an invisible force, as Tartarus loomed over me. In the distance, I could see Kronos approaching, a triumphant sneer on his face.

But I wasn't done. Not yet. As long as I could still think, still fight, there was hope. I focused on the tar around me, willing it to respond to my commands. It was slower now, sluggish, but it still obeyed. Slowly, ever so slowly, it began to creep up Tartarus' legs.

Melinoe POV

The black tar clung to me, thick and unyielding as I waded through it. Each step felt like pulling my legs through cement, but I couldn't stop. Not now. Not with everything falling apart. The air was thick with the sounds of battle—the clash of weapons, the roar of Tartarus, and the rumble of this forsaken realm crumbling around us.

My whistle materialized in my hand, cold and familiar. I held it to my lips and blew. The eerie, hollow sound cut through the chaos like a knife, summoning another train. Thankfully, I had gained parts of souls of tons of powerful monsters, Ladon especially.

The train appeared before me, before barreling towards Luke himself, the person who had caused all this, who had made Odysseus, my master, perform the greatest sacrifice. Its wheels churned the tar as it hurtled toward Luke.

I saw him, standing on a ridge above me. He was disgusting, his soul fractured beyond belief, not even fit to be one of my train passengers. The train slammed into him before he could react, sending him spiraling into the black tar below.

Thinking I had dealt with him, I shifted my gaze to Kronos. He had taken to the air, flying toward Odysseus, the battle between him and Tartarus shaking the very foundation of this realm. The ground trembled beneath my feet, but I couldn't let Kronos interfere. Not now. I summoned another train, preparing to send it careening toward him.

But before I could, a blur of motion appeared before me. Luke. He emerged from the tar, his sword already in motion, slashing toward me with lethal precision.

Time seemed to slow. My hand moved on instinct, reaching for a weapon I didn't know I had until the moment it appeared. A khopesh sword materialized in my grip, the hilt carved with the image of a serpent with two tails. I smiled as I saw it—Odysseus had given me this blade. The blade of Echidna.

Luke's sword clashed against mine with a sharp clang, and I felt the force of the blow reverberate through my body. His eyes narrowed, his soul moving throughout his body as if it were trying to repair itself. He moved with inhuman speed, almost seeming like he was teleporting around me in rapid bursts of motion, his strikes coming from all directions.

I bared my teeth, my rage boiling over. Opening my mouth, I let out a scream, releasing a torrent of ghosts that made my form. They poured out of me, surrounding Luke in a whirlwind of ethereal forms. Ghosts of chimeras, kerkopes, griffins, humans... their ghostly hands clawing at his armor, but he was still there, relentless. The spirits couldn't kill him, but they could slow him down.

Luke stumbled, disoriented by the swarm of ghosts, but even as they tore at him, I knew it wasn't enough. He couldn't be killed. Not like this. His skin seemed invulnerable, like he had bathed in the river Styx, and if that were true, I had to find his Achilles heel.

"You wretched little demigod," I snarled, driving the khopesh toward Luke once more, determined to kill this boy and stop Kronos however I could, from stopping the one chance we had to end this.

Luke vanished again, dashing towards me, but the ghosts followed, relentless, as I readied myself for the next strike. Our weapons clashed again and again, each impact sending shockwaves through the tar beneath our feet. I could feel my power waning, the effort of maintaining the ghost swarm and fighting Luke simultaneously draining me.

But I couldn't give up. Odysseus' face flashed in my mind, his final wish echoing in my thoughts. I had to fulfil it. I had to end this.

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