PJO: Son of a Primordial

{World Records, Unknown Time}

Odysseus POV

I stared at the massive, glowing book floating before me, its pages still open to my own entry. 

Swallowing hard, I stepped closer. The book seemed to pulse with an otherworldly energy, as if it were alive and aware of my presence. I reached out, my hand trembling slightly as I placed it on the page. The moment my skin made contact, a jolt of electricity shot through me, not painful, but definitely attention-grabbing.

I thought of Thalia, wondering how she was doing. The book responded instantly, pages flipping of their own accord in a dizzying blur until they settled on a new entry.

My heart raced. Here was a chance to learn more about Thalia, to see what she was up to after all this time. But as I scanned the page, frustration built inside me like a pressure cooker about to blow its lid.

I could see Thalia's name clear as day, written in what looked like crackling blue lightning. Below it was a portrait that seemed to have a life of its own, her black leather jacket, electric blue eyes, holding he spear and the replica of Aegis, bringing a smile to my lips.

I tried to read it but only a few words stood out from the blurry text, jumping off the page like they were spring-loaded: "Zeus," "Huntress," "Pine tree," "Broken Fate." But the rest? It was like trying to read underwater with my eyes closed. An indecipherable blur that made my head hurt if I stared too long.

"Come on," I muttered, tapping the page as if that would magically bring the words into focus. "What's the point of a magic book if I can't even read it?"

Frustrated, I flipped to another page, this time landing on, Percy Jackson. I saw a dark-haired boy with sea-green eyes holding Riptide in his hand, a weapon that oddly suited the kid. 

Words like "Poseidon" and "Riptide" jumped out at me, but everything else remained stubbornly out of focus.

Gritting my teeth, I tried again, this time landing on Luke's page.

The word "Hermes" was clear, as was "Backbiter," but the rest? You guessed it. Blurry as a photo taken by a hyperactive cyclops on a roller coaster. In the dark. During an earthquake.

"This is ridiculous," I growled, my patience wearing thinner than the excuses I used to give Chiron for missing archery practice. "There's got to be a way to read this thing."

Frustrated, I flipped to the section on gods and titans. Surely, I'd be able to read about the big players, right? Wrong. Even Kronos' page was mostly a mystery, though his portrait was enough to send me into a rage spiral. Golden eyes stared out from the page, seeming to mock me. This was the being who had killed me, who had manipulated Luke and nearly destroyed everything. And I couldn't even read his stupid bio.

I slammed my fist against the page, which was about as effective as punching a cloud. "Come on, you oversized fortune cookie! Give me something I can use!"

Then it hit me like one of Zeus's thunderbolts (and trust me, those pack a punch). What about the primordials? I quickly found Erebus' page, holding my breath as I looked at my father's entry.

Erebus' portrait was both familiar and alien – a being of pure darkness with hints of other elements swirling within. It was like looking into the depths of space and realizing the void was looking back. His title "Primordial of Darkness" was clear, but next to it were blurred words. Squinting until my eyes watered, I could almost make out "Shadow," "Light," "Aether," and "Mist."

"Great," I muttered. "So even dear old dad gets the redacted treatment. What's next, are you going to tell me Nyx is actually the tooth fairy?"

Intrigued and more than a little annoyed, I flipped to Khaos' page. I nearly dropped the book in shock, which would have been quite a feat considering it was floating in mid-air.

The page wasn't black, as I first thought. It was covered in densely packed words, so tightly squeezed together that they formed a solid mass of shifting text. It was like someone had taken every word in every language ever spoken and crammed them onto a single page, then hit the "scramble" button for good measure.

I stared until my eyes watered and my head throbbed, but I could only make out two words from the chaotic mess: "Beginning" and "End." Real helpful, grandma Khaos. Thanks for nothing.

My head spinning l, I had one more idea. I turned to Kevin's page, my old friend who'd died because of his connection to me.

Like the others, most of Kevin's page was a blur of indecipherable text. But at the bottom of the page, a single line stood out in perfect clarity, as if it were written in neon:

"Reincarnated as Meg McCaffrey"

I stumbled back, the shock making me lose my balance. The book slammed shut with a sound like a thunderclap, making me jump. My mind raced faster than Hermes on his best day.

Kevin had already been reincarnated already? And who in Hades was Meg McCaffrey?

Before I could even process this bombshell, the book sprang open again, this time to the page of Meg McCaffrey. It was like the cosmic library had decided to throw me a bone, but it was a very small, very confusing bone.

I could read her name, of course, because apparently, this magic book thought names were the only important information in the universe. A few other words stood out: "Demeter" and "Beast" being the most prominent. Great. More cryptic clues that raised more questions than they answered.

I looked at Meg's portrait, trying to reconcile this stranger with my memories of Kevin. She – or he? Reincarnation was confusing – looked to be around 6 years old. A pudgy face framed by short black hair, glasses perched on her nose. But what struck me most was her expression. She looked terrified, her eyes wide with a fear that seemed too deep, too haunted even for a demigod.

My heart clenched. Whatever had happened to Kevin in this new life, it clearly wasn't all sunshine and rainbows. I started thinking of how I could find him – her – them? Gods, this was giving me a headache. But then a more pressing question hit me like one of Apollo's sacred cows falling from the sky.

How in Hades was I supposed to get out of here?

I looked around, really taking in my surroundings for the first time since I'd awakened. The realm had already fixed itself from my earlier... let's call it a "remodeling attempt." The endless expanse of whatever-this-place-was stretched out in all directions, maddeningly uniform.

"Okay," I said to no one in particular, because talking to yourself is totally normal when you're trapped in a metaphysical library. "There's got to be an exit sign or something, right? Maybe a cosmic 'You Are Here' map?"

But before I could start my search for the mystical fire escape of the universe, the book had other ideas. Without warning, it flipped back to my page. I caught a glimpse of my own face .

Then, with a sound like the world's largest vacuum cleaner turning on, the book slammed shut. On me. Because of course it did.

"Oh, come on!" I yelled as I felt myself being pulled into the pages. "This is not how books are supposed to work!"

But my protests fell on deaf ears (assuming books have ears, which at this point, I wouldn't rule out). I felt my consciousness drifting, the world around me fading to black as if someone was turning down the dimmer switch on reality.

My last coherent thought before sleep claimed me was a mix of frustration and determination:

"When I get out of here, I'm gonna make Kronos kebab."

-------------------------------

Patreon.com/Joanjudo Stories