Chapter 1 - Electric Enigma

A tall, lean man looked around with extreme confusion, this wasn't right, he didn't belong here, what could possibly be going on? He wasn't sure how exactly he knew that he wasn't supposed to be there, all he knew for certain was that it felt wrong, and his instincts had never once let him down in his life before.

He peered around, taking in all the sights, the sounds, the vibrations in the air. He'd developed that skill… Recently? He knew that it was new to him but he couldn't figure out quite how new. Everything felt like a blurry haze. His memories were all fuzzy, waning through his mind like faded pictures. Someone had done this to him, he was sure of it.

Walking through the doors to the abandoned garage was probably not the smartest idea he'd ever had, but in hindsight, he clearly wasn't known for smart ideas.

Whoever actually knew him.

He was confident enough in his own strength to survive, and again, that was a feeling that he was going off of. He knew things about himself that he couldn't explain to anyone, he knew that he seemed to be unlocking distant memories after triggering them in different ways, piece by piece unlocking more bits of the mental jigsaw that his mind had become.

Thinking back, the whole shoddy facade feebly laced over the garage had kinda screamed danger, but maybe that's why he'd gone inside? He already felt like he was the kind of person to be drawn to danger which in of itself seemed like something only applicable to a total psychopath, not that he was ever going to admit it.

The entrance to the garage was rusted over, bits of blue paint flecking through the orange cover of oxidized iron. The reception of the garage looked like a bomb had gone off not too far and this was the fallout of it all. Damp newspapers littered around entirely ineligible to be read anymore. The door that led to the workshop was hanging loosely from it's top hinge, swaying ever so slightly as the breeze rolled through the building, creaking with every movement.

"This is definitely a cannibal ambush." He muttered to himself with a deep scowl falling between his brow. The irritation of having willingly walked straight into yet another trap was quickly replaced by the instant realization that he was no doubt about to get into a fight. That was something that always lit a fire in his heart, it steamrolled power through his veins and got him completely high on his raw energy filled adrenaline. Something entirely unique to someone like him.

"Help!" A young voice called out, quivering in fear. The voice came from the workshop, bounding around the walls almost rhythmically. There was the faintest trace of an expertly hidden baritone riding alongside the voice, propelling it further away from its origin. It made him realize that whoever or whatever was calling out knew that he was there and was baiting him to come further into the workshop.

Any sane person that figured out it was a trap would have hightailed it out of there and feld the area as fast as they physically could, but he wasn't just anyone. He lived for the thrill of the fight, he was motivated to move forwards in his as of yet unclear mission by the promise of battle. He didn't know why, all he knew was that it filled his soul with purpose, even so, this trap had actually caused him a minute degree of hesitation.

Despite his growing reservation about this clear ambush he felt willed to move onward by unseen forces. Was it his father pushing him on, forcing him to accept the oncoming fight? He would have done it anyway but he knew that his father tended to influence things here and there, that was what he did.

It was the kind of man that his father was.

As he pushed onwards through the reception and into the workshop he saw that there was still a car held high on a raised platform above him. Further inside he could suddenly hear another cry for help, another excellently hidden facade but a facade nonetheless.

He felt a niggling sensation pulling at him from within, it was almost like a build in defence system, one that told him as plain as day that there was danger lurking. He'd figured that the cries were bogus but the warning he was getting informed him that whoever or whatever had caused the cry was tied to the growing unease he'd felt with how out of place he was in this area. Whoever it was, they were not supposed to cross his path, at least not naturally.

Running his hand across the hilt of the beautiful axe he kept at his side, he couldn't help but let out a sigh. For once he wished that they would just come straight out of hiding, announce their intentions to kill him and then they could proceed to him kicking the tar out of the lot of them with a smile on his face.

But no. He had to play along with their games in order to lul them all into a false sense of security before they gave up the shadows and attacked. Yet again something that only psychopaths would consider as a perfectly acceptable strategy when knowingly walking into an ambush.

There was another shot of sensation that passed through the back of his neck raising the hairs like he'd just had Death itself breathe down his neck, sending a horrible chill down his spine. Whatever the Hell was baited him into the workshop wasn't the only one there. He didn't have a problem taking on multiple enemies at once, in fact it gave him more of a challenge, but whatever just lit up his senses had only just arrived on the perimeter of the building, and they were emanating highly compressed power.

Raw. Power. He'd never felt anything quite like it. He was enamoured by the sensation. Was that what he felt like to other people? He had nothing to compare to so he had no idea how powerful that thing was, but he hoped that once he was done inside the garage that he'd get the chance to go out there and fight them as well.

A broad smile clambered across his lips at the prospect of demolishing two separate parties.

One by one he felt the presence of more and more beings crowding around the particular powerful one. He quickly realized from the way that they seemed to be circling the outside of the building that they must have been a hunting party coming after him. How had he not noticed them until now!?

"Idiot." He cursed himself quietly before turning his gaze back to the workshop. He'd have to finish his business inside the building before addressing the security on the outside.

He thought he'd felt people following him over the past few days as he'd been trekking through the forests but he'd never actually seen anyone, and whenever he'd circled back on himself in order to throw the potential predators off of his trail he'd always come up empty handed. So he'd been right the whole time, he had been followed.

He wasn't sure what they could possibly want with him. As far as he was aware nobody this side of the world knew him, or even that someone like him could exist.

He snaked his way around the broken down chassis of what had once been quite a nice car. He saw the remains of skeleton inside, the poor bastard still clad in some kind of armoured shirt.

"SPQR?" He muttered, reading the gold lettering across the back. "That raises a few questions." He whispered to himself, looking through the wrecking at the workshop, trying to see through the dim rays of moonlight that shone through the high windows. He still couldn't see where the voice had originated from but he could feel disturbances in the air, they were faint but he was sure they were getting stronger the further he made his way in.

He couldn't help but admire the way his gleaming silver axe reflected in the moonlight. His one handed battle axe was the only gift he'd ever received from his father but it was by no means a lowly bestowment. It helped him source his strength on more than one occasion. His older brother had gotten a broad hammer, he'd gotten an axe which he'd always prefered. Cutting through things seemed far more practical than crushing them with a blunt edge.

The darkness didn't bother him, very little did in fact, it was only really when other's lives were in danger that he seemed to almost sober in his decision making. If he was on his own he would no doubt venture straight into trouble head first in a barrel roll.

A warrior's heart burned bright in his chest and it was evident that he loved his lifestyle for he wore his emotions on his sleeve. In truth he was aware of how he did things and given the chance, he'd have it no other way.

A flash of silver crossed his line of sight, immediately putting all of his senses on high alert. He'd seen his mistake almost instantly. He'd become side-tracked right when he needed to fight whatever it was that had sprung the trap in the first place. He instinctively stepped back a few paces, keeping his axe in hand and aimed at the behemoth in front of him, ready to unleash a behemoth of a throw and deal some life ending damage to his enemy.

"Silly mortal, your weapon won't work on me." The colossal thing boomed before stepping out of the shadows. The giant enemy stepped into the light, footsteps thudding around the workshop with each step. It was then that he saw that this huge mass of muscles genuinely believed that his axe was about to fly away harmlessly, and that might even have been true if it was someone else, and a different weapon. It had a single eye sitting squarely in its ugly, fat face. The giant imitated a child's cry perfectly before grinning at its intended next meal.

"Who said anything about being mortal?" He grinned before putting the axe firmly back into the reinforced loop that hung off of his jeans. It was a small axe that he could easily handle with one hand as per its intended use. The Cyclops surged forwards, arms outstretched trying to ensnare him but it only served him to get a powerful roundhouse kick to the temple.

He managed to stun the foe but knew that eventually they would both tire out and he would probably come out underhanded in a match of brute strength against a Cyclops and would be killed in a most gruesome manner. He felt the presence of those who had been following him the entire time seemingly waiting at the entrance to the garage, his only hope was forcing the Cyclops out and then engaging directly alongside whoever it was that had been tracking him.

He was mostly just hoping that his plan would go his way and they'd end up teaming up against the Cyclops and not accidentally turn it into a free for all, because while that would have been a brilliant fight for him, it would hurt so much if they all decided that HE was the weakest link in that particular fight.

"Come then Cyclops. Catch me if you can." He flashed a grin as he belted outwards towards the entrance. He knew that he could keep running at full speed for two or three miles, but in the long run, the need for the Cyclops to capture and eat him would always outlast Percy's own motivations of nothing. He had no goals that didn't involve suicidal tasks, nothing that could bring him out of his self determined path that only ended in death but he wasn't just going to lay down and die, he'd make the Cyclops really work for this meal, so he knew that he could never stop moving.

It was his birthday in only a few days' time, and he truly didn't know whether or not he was going to see it, especially at this rate of meeting new people. People that turned out to be monsters that he'd only ever heard about in mythology. The problem with mythology was that he was finding more and more of it to not be MYTH, which was a problem when those myths were trying to kill and eat him.

He managed to reach the entrance of the garage as the moonlight beamed down on him. He couldn't quite place it but he felt reassured when he looked at the moon above, it's beautiful lunar gaze reflecting perfectly from his powerful platinum eyes. Just as he was free of the workshop he felt an iron chain ensnare his leg and drag him to the ground. "Son of a bitch!" He cursed as his face slammed against the asphalt. He forced his body to roll so that he was looking up at the ugly monster who was clearly pleased with himself.

The Cyclop's eyes seemed to be disassociating as it began to buzz around mildly, never making eye contact with him. The madness was starting to kick in, that only made those monsters that much more dangerous. He wasn't sure why they did that but he realized it was happening to all of the creatures he'd had a run in with recently.

Some took longer than others but they eventually all went insane. He personally wanted to chalk that down to his own personal strength but he knew that was really probably not the reason.

Right before the Cyclops swung a five foot knotted club down on his skull and killed him, his eyes flashed a pure white, wisps of smoke flowed out of the sides, it was a scene of raw unpredictable power. His lips moved in an almost silent whisper before a colossal lightning strike came down and obliterated the Cyclops into nothing more than a shower of gold dust.

"Gold confetti. Never gets old." He muttered, letting his body slink back to the ground. He'd accidentally used more power than he wanted to.

Collapsing back onto the ground he felt a wave of exhaustion wash over him, he'd never had to use that much power and it wasn't exactly necessary but at the same time he'd never actually been able to output that much, not by accident at least.

It was only after a moment or two that he noticed the number of young girls all clad in silver hunting garbs, all staring at him with bows drawn. Now that he wasn't trying to smite any monsters he quickly realized that they were the ones he'd felt darting around the outside of the building while he'd been in the workshop with the Cyclops. They were seemingly led by the one who had the immense aura flowing off of her. She was definitely the leader and no doubt the one that had sent a chill down his spine when she'd arrived.

"What should we do with him milady?" One of them asked, never taking her eyes off of him. He visually gulped at the prospect of any of those arrows hitting him.

"You can just… Let me go, I won't tell anyone." He said from the ground. His words seemed to provoke a dozen of them to draw their bows tighter and inch closer to him. They REALLY didn't like him, they were pretty clear about that.

The girl who'd initially spoken, the one with short spiky black hair looked at him through almost confused eyes, "Does that ever work?" She asked him seriously, seemingly genuinely interested in his answer.

"I'll be sure to let you know in a few minutes." He muttered back to her, not enjoying the hostility he was receiving from the dozens of other girls.

A young girl with auburn hair stepped forwards and seemed to analyze him. "Strange, a lightning attack yet you bear no resemblance to a child of Zeus." She muttered quietly. He doubted she had intended for him to hear her, but his senses were excellent, far beyond the limits of mortals.

"A child of Zeus? Yeah, right, next you'll be telling me that the Greek Gods exist…" He stared in disbelief at the deadpan expression that the young girl wore across her face, realizing that instead of her giving him an answer, her steely gaze was more than enough of a confirmation that she was trying to tell him that the Gods still existed. Perhaps it was true, it would explain how she was basically swimming in power.

"I am not a child of Zeus." Percy told them immediately before standing up, brushing the dirt from his shoulders, letting a hand rub his face from where he'd kissed the pavement.

"You should only speak when spoken to, boy." One of the girls spat before trying to kick him in the back of the legs. That didn't quite go to plan when Percy simply laughed once her foot came into contact with the back of his knee. It tickled.

"You also haven't been claimed. This needs to be seen by Olympus. A mortal as powerful as yourself could cause us a lot of problems." The little one who it turned out was actually their leader had told him. Percy shrugged, waving his hands in the air. He hated this already, who said he hadn't been claimed? Above all of that, she believed him to be a mortal, what was that about? How many mortals had this girl seen that were capable of channeling lightning from the sky?

"Don't I get a say in this?" He asked, looking skywards before he felt a hand on his shoulder and then they were gone.