The void stared.

Darkness had overtaken his vision. Although, it didn't feel like darkness, for darkness at least had a texture to it. This felt as if there was simply… nothing. He didn't know if his eyes were open or shut; moving them changed nothing in his field of view.

A void of depression, of thought. The universe's natural state, prior to the eruption of the singularity that formed the universe.

Soon enough, as suddenly as the Big Bang, there was something, to his left. Two pillars of blackness, actual blackness. A color nearly imperceptible, and yet he was positive they were there. How they came to be, he was at a loss. But he knew one moment they were not there, and the next moment they were. No spectacle.

He moved what had to have been his eyes, and found a near-identical set of pillars to his right. But this pair was a blinding white, radiating the brightness of the Sun, albeit without the heat. The white didn't look out of place though - it still somehow fit in the void-like nature of the background. It seemed natural.

It was as if they held between them the entrance to a new life. As if they existed not as a figment of his imagination, but as a figment of someone else's.

There were two gates, radiating light and darkness in contention with each other, as if a battle for dominance was being waged, neither side taking an advantage. They called to him, each trying to win him over, each pulling his body and mind towards each. They wanted him.

He pushed forwards, towards the space between the columns. As he walked, or floated, or simply just moved, the pressure from both gates got ever more painful, until he was practically paralyzed in one location, the pressure from both threatening to rip him apart.

Perseus Jackson was getting torn apart by a gate of horn and a gate of ivory, and he didn't know how to stop it.

Two gates the silent house of Sleep adorn;

Of polish'd ivory this, that of transparent horn:

True visions thro' transparent horn arise;

Thro' polish'd ivory pass deluding lies.

- Virgil, The Aeneid

Perseus opened his eyes.

The taste of saltwater on his lips struck Perseus first. It was invigorating, and he smiled slightly as he opened his eyes. The ship rocked gently beneath his back as he stared up at the sky, for now a mix of oranges and purples as Apollo's chariot appeared in the East. There was barely a cloud in sight. The sounds of the waves lapping against the hull and the excited cries of the gulls were paradise to Perseus's ears.

As he recovered from his trip to Morpheus, he groaned. He didn't expect to get kicked for it.

"Get up, soldier!"

Perseus shot up into a sitting position at the barking tone of the stranger, blinking his eyes rapidly and reaching for his pocket reflexively. He didn't expect his hand to hit metal rather than cotton, and his fingers recoiled in shock. He looked to the deck next to him and found another xiphos to use, should the voice be hostile. He glanced up, but the man had already begun marching to the ship's bow.

The demigod stood up, this time panicking, not sure of where he was or who he was with. His hands weren't tied, so he assumed he wasn't being kidnapped or enslaved.

And he realized he didn't know anything.

His memory was… empty.

What the Hades?

He drew in a deep breath as he glanced at his surroundings.

As the sun rose, its rays were cast onto the surrounding river. He could clearly see rolling green hills to his left and right, lush with trees. The water had an orange hue to it as the dawn's gaze was reflected. It was a beautiful scene.

The waves lapped against the bow of the ship, serving to soothe Perseus' jumbled mind. He could feel the water's movements as if the river was another limb, connected to him just as much as an arm or a leg. Looking down, he clenched his fist, a small jet of water rising to meet it, coinciding with a slight tug in his gut. It happened in a flash, but he knew he was surrounded by his domain.

A small township lay to the east on the riverbank, clusters of small houses of wood and mud dotting the hills. Smoke rose from the center of town. There was a dock extending out into the river, numerous small fishing boats clinging on and bobbing in the waves. A small wall of stone extended from the dock around the village, at least as far as Perseus's vision could accurately pick out.

Perseus couldn't see anybody.

That one simple fact cast an eerie aura over the scene. There wasn't a noise coming from the town. Life seemed to have simply been put on hold. No children running, no warriors training, no fisherman readying themselves for the day's work. There was no activity.

Perseus's blood ran cold as he considered the possibility they were all dead.

The boat continued to lurch forwards as he turned to the back of the ship, when his mouth dropped slightly as he realized how foreign a situation he really was in.

Over a hundred ships dotted the river behind him. Greek triremes he knew, but how he knew Perseus could not say. They each had three sets of rows, ranging from near parallel to the water's surface to a 45 degree angle. They each sat nearly 130 feet long or so, as far as he could tell.

It was an awe-inducing sight. The river was clogged by the ships, barely any space between one riverbank and the other to move between. The sails were up and billowing as the wind seemed to guide them through the river, with a constant gust maintaining the speed of the ships, as if Aeolus had taken up responsibility for the fleet. Perseus could almost hear drums in the air signifying the march of the triremes.

Perseus looked down at himself and realized he had no idea what he was wearing. A breastplate of solid metal covered his torso, the bronze color contrasting against the red cloth underneath. His arms were bare, with the red sleeves going barely further than his shoulders. The cloth went not even halfway to his knees, where two bronze shin pads rested. They extended downwards to his sandals, which covered most of his feet.

A large shield of bronze and leather rested to his right, supported by a similarly bronze helmet. The helmet had two large openings from each eye down to the chin, separated solely by a thin stripe of metal meant to be worn on the nose. Perseus knew the helmet was made for vision and maneuverability, rather than protection. A strike to the head would be protected once, but Perseus doubted how long it could hold up to a constant barrage.

Perseus didn't know how he knew that. Well, to be completely true, he didn't know anything beyond his name. He didn't know where he was. He couldn't remember a name or a place or an event from his past. He was lost.

"First time waking up?" A new voice, one decidedly more feminine and less imposing, a bit of mirth evident to Perseus's ears.

Perseus twisted his head to the right to find the voice, then left, but couldn't find its source.

"Up here."

He glanced up to the mast, half expecting to see a woman hanging from the mast in a manner akin to a monkey.

"I'm just kidding. Right behind you."

Perseus spun at the sudden closeness of the voice, nearly tripping on his own feet as he finally locked eyes with another soldier, a slight smile adorning her face. He recovered quickly, resting a hand on the side rail to steady himself. He found himself face-to-face with a woman he certainly didn't recognize.

She wore similar armor as Perseus, her helmet not hiding her shoulder-length black hair. She stood just inches shorter than himself, but held an aura of both danger and imperceptibility about her - as if she could hurt you at any moment, no matter how safe you thought you were. Her sky blue eyes stared back at him as he stumbled on his words.

"Uh…"

It was only now that he became acutely aware of the people milling about on deck, all wearing the same armor. Most had their helmets on. They were quiet, except for the murmurs of the occasional soldier. There were probably ten or twelve others on deck. They all stood with nervous energy, constantly on edge. It seemed a battle was to come any second, despite the river clear of any ships not in their fleet.

He realized he never completed his thought, and finally stammered out, "Wh-Where are we?"

She chuckled, but this time Perseus could tell it held no mirth. "Far away from where these two armies should be."

"Where is that?" Perseus replied, confusion evident in his words. "I have no idea how I got here, where I am, when I am. What is this? Who are you? What armies? Is this a-"

She put a finger to his mouth and shushed him. "Too many questions.. I'm Aikaterina. I don't know you. If we survive this, I can help you out. If we don't, there's no point in answering your questions."

Aikaterina's voice had a… deep emotion to it. Not necessarily one resigned to death, but a bitterness that her life hadn't been fulfilled. Like she failed on a personal mission, and knew she might never be able to finish it.

Perseus thought it best to avoid that topic of conversation.

"Too many questions. Right. Ok. Got it. We're about to be fighting though, right?"

Aikaterina nodded.

"Who am I fighting? Don't want to mix it up."

Aikaterina shot Perseus a look. "You'll see them soon."

She made a slight twang with the string on her bow, a thing of beauty now that Perseus realized it was there. The bow was the length of her arm at least, made of a dark oak that made it that much more imposing. Perseus didn't doubt the lethality of the weapon.

Perseus nodded. "Gotcha."

He was still confused, and the answer didn't exactly satisfy him, but he doubted he'd get much else.

As silence reigned between the two, Perseus took a moment to reevaluate his new compatriot. She had rested her bow against the ship's wall, a stocked quiver of arrows resting against her back. She wore arm guards on both forearms, both a deep black with light blue accents. The craftsmanship was incredible, and Perseus had to marvel at them. The left arm guard seemed to be a bit larger.

Aikaterina had a belt as well, right under her chestplate. It clearly wasn't a standard issue item, made of a light blue fabric that contrasted nicely with the red and bronze armor and shirt. There were three pockets on the left side, and Perseus figured the right would also have the same. What they contained was left to his imagination.

There was a pair of daggers too, hooked on her belt. Yet again, they had a black grip with light blue accents. The small scabbards were an intimidating black.

If Perseus was honest with himself, he was slightly scared of her.

Perseus looked out into the sea, the calm waves trying their best to calm the raging tides in his mind. He didn't know where he was. He only knew his name, and nothing else about himself. He was in a land and time seemingly foreign to him. He put one hand on the railing as he breathed in the salty air, the other hand pinning his helmet to his side and holding the xiphos he had found. The sword had no inscription or any distinguishing features. He didn't want to fight, but his muscles almost strained to be let loose. The art of combat was as soothing as saltwater, albeit in a slightly different manner.

The ship began to turn slightly to follow the river's path, curving around a hill jutting out into the water. It was wide enough that many of the ships didn't have to change course, but the merging of the choke point required led to a more densely packed fleet. Perseus turned to admire the surroundings when he realized where they were.

The perfect spot for an ambush.

Perseus looked up towards the cliffside, searching for any truth to his suspicions. Soon enough, a glint of metal caught his eye.

"Ambush!" Perseus yelled, dropping to the deck, grabbing a shield laying next to him and covering himself. Aikaterina instantly understood and wheeled around to face the outcropping, crouching behind the edge of the trireme.

Moments later, the thud of arrows hitting wood drowned out the sounds of the waves. The screams of the injured filled the air.

Oars stilled. The leading ship ground to a halt, the march downriver paused. The commander began issuing orders with his voice and his hands, signals to signify a maneuver. Soon enough, the ships closest to the left riverbank resumed their advance, while the ships nearer to the right edge and the outcropping stilled behind shields and armor.

Waves of arrows rained down on the ships, hitting the deck with thuds, ripping through the sails. A stream of death and destruction, hell raining from above. Perseus counted those on his ship; he couldn't see two, and another three were on the deck, motionless.

The advancing ships stilled once further beyond the lines of Perseus's ship. The fleet resembled one half of a crescent moon, a defensive position to prepare for a possible charge from the enemy's fleet. The name of the game was who could outflank who, first; the extension of the line, and its curvature, made it that much more difficult to flank.

Perseus didn't know how he knew this, but he took it as correct.

Another arrow landed mere inches away from his shoulder, a thud the telltale sign of its appearance. Aikaterina grunted as yet another arrow dug into her shield. He could tell she was scanning the hillside for the enemy, hoping to be able to pull back on her bow and exchange fire.

The fleet needed to rid themselves of the archer threat if they were to deal with the likely attack from the opposing navy. They needed some help, and Perseus had an inkling he could provide just that.

"Keep their attention on the ships," Perseus said to Aikaterina.

"Who else would they be paying attention to?"

He smirked. "Me."

Perseus tossed his helmet towards Aikaterina with a grin and dove over the side of the ship.

Aikaterina stared. "What the fu-"

Perseus hit the water and shot under the trireme, a jet of bubbles trailing behind him. It was amazing, being in his element. He felt stronger. In control. He felt more alive. As if the world had shifted into a clearer lens.

The feeling harkened back to a time he couldn't remember, a feeling of nostalgia for something that wasn't there. He glided through the waters, previously calm, now slightly choppy.

He went a bit deeper as an arrow shot through the water, slowing before stopping, the weapon suspended beneath the surface. Numerous fish darted about, many close to the river's bottom, weaving through the waving seagrass and vegetation.

An unusual, jet-black eel stuck its head out of a small space between two rocks, scanning the environment for food. The unusually-colored creature nodded at Perseus before retreating back into the darkness.

Perseus felt at home.

Perseus shook off the odd mix of the safety of the ocean and confusion of his mind as he reached the riverbank, lifting himself up into the underbrush, dry as a bone. Taking one last look back into the water gently lapping against the shore, he took a deep breath, and grinned.

"Time to go to work."

He took off up the hill, leaving the river behind as he ran through the trees. The sun's first rays shined through the gaps in the maples and sycamores, leaving long shadows on the fallen leaves. A bird's song cut through the soft winds. Perseus might have seen an orange salamander on the ground, but he couldn't be sure. He was hoping to run into a deer.

But there were bigger tasks at hand than deer hunting.

Perseus slowed as human voices overtook the birdsongs, with loud cries of "Loose!" and "Knock!" filling the air. The autumn air, if the leaves had anything to say about it. He crouched, slowly making his way towards the voices, wary of sticks that could be stepped on or leaves that would make a crunch. He hoped the fleet was holding up well.

He hid behind a tree as the archers came into his vision, on a ledge above a narrow gap in the treeline. It was nearly invisible from the shore, albeit far enough the archers would only be able to hit the ships nearest the water's edge. Perseus guessed it was simply a diversionary tactic, distracting the fleet from continuing onward. Nevertheless, he had to knock as many enemies out of the ballgame as he could.

He moved through the treeline behind the archers, their commander close by. They were clearly a well-oiled team; when one archer fired, another would rotate in, doubling the pace at which they shot. There were twenty of them, each armed with a bow, as well as a shield and sword lying next to each of their positions. Perseus shuddered at the size of their arm muscles.

Perseus drew his sword, which felt a bit awkward to use, but usable nonetheless. It was terribly unbalanced, as if it was made in three minutes without a care by the blacksmith. A whisper of a memory gestured to his hand, his fingers subconsciously flexing, reaching for a weapon more suitable. One he may have used before.

He stepped out of the treeline and sent a sharp tap flat onto the back of the commander's helmet, sending him into unconsciousness, the soldier crumpling to the ground.

Perseus rushed the reserve immediately in front of him, slicing the man's bowstring with his sword as the others realized an intruder was in their midst. Bows and quivers hit the rocks as swords and shields were drawn. Perseus kicked out the legs of his second target as he backed away, readying himself for the onslaught, still invigorated from the water. The storm of swords surrounded him in a crescent, separating him from the river. He stared into the brown eyes of the soldier at his 12 o'clock, smiling.

"Bring it on."

He lost himself to his impulses. To his warrior reflexes. He lost himself in the fight. He felt truly free.

He jumped over the first slash, the sword whistling through open air as his knee connected with the man's jaw. He doubled over, Perseus slamming his pommel into the back of his helmet. He spun, deflecting another strike to his side as he ducked to avoid another from behind. He twisted his sword, disarming one opponent and moving to block a stab aimed for his face. A sweeping kick took out the legs of the disarmed man, Perseus grabbing his shield and slinging it at an approaching fighter, hitting his bare chest and knocking the wind out of him. A slash made another jump back as Perseus put some space between the remaining warriors.

Perseus kicked up a flurry of leaves before charging forwards once again, using the distraction to quickly put another soldier out of commission. A swipe at one's wrist. A leap over a low swing. A dodge of a stab at his left side. A raised sword to block a downward slash. Sidestepping a heavy-handed swing.

It was a dance, a complex routine of simple steps. Slash. Spin. Hack. Backpedal. Deflect. Jump. Kick. Repeat. A couple enemies landed hits on his armor, but he simply moved too fast for them to truly react. The evidence that the archers were more adept at long-range combat was significant.

Soon enough, only four remained on their feet. Perseus charged one quickly, swinging left with his sword, deflected by the soldier's shield. Perseus rolled forwards, holding his blade upwards to reflect the downward sword stroke that had to be coming. He swept his right leg, knocking the man to the ground. He quickly grabbed his opponent's sword, slinging it at another archer standing, where the blade sank into his right shoulder, the soldier falling backwards to the ground, the unorthodox tactic surprising him.

Perseus grinned. The thrill of a battle helped to make him feel alive, but more importantly to ignore the lack of memories in his own brain. His smile faltered as he remembered that, well, he had nothing to remember.

That second of hesitation allowed the final two to regroup. They looked at each other and nodded. They charged Perseus together, with one swinging a powerful overhand as the other stabbed towards the lower torso.

Perseus cursed. He twisted to the right to avoid the stab, putting his sword up to block the overhand. The sword stung on impact, a far heavier impact than anticipated, and the weak grip tumbled out of his hands.

"Fuck!"

Perseus shook his hand reflexively, while the stabber brought his sword around to try and land a hit around the side of his armor.

But before it could make contact, Perseus heard a bowstring.

And the wind of an arrow.

And the gurgle of blood from one of the soldiers.

Wait, no.

Both soldiers.

But one arrow?

Perseus turned around as the two men collapsed, coming face to face with an arrow pointed directly at his forehead, held by Aikaterina.

Perseus yelped. "What the hell are you doing up here?"

Aikaterina didn't react. "What the hell was that?"

"What?"

Aikaterina gestured around her. "This."

Perseus gulped. "I… uh… well there were arrows, and they were annoying me, you see, so I came and… beat em up."

Aikaterina's eyebrows raised. "You… beat em up."

Perseus grinned. "Yep. Nice shot by the way."

Aikaterina nodded, walking over to the corpses and pulling her arrow out.

"Thanks. You sure you don't know who you are?"

"No clue."

Aikaterina walked towards the cliff, gesturing once more at the bodies strewn about the clearing, swords next to open hands, helmets off of heads. "Well, you're clearly a fighter. Maybe even a soldier."

She turned and looked at Perseus, staring into his eyes. "Who do you fight for?"

Perseus sighed. "I honestly have no idea."

They gazed back into the river, where it seemed like Athenian fleet was in retreat, heading back to the beach after a lack of engagement from the opposing fleet. The archers had simply been a nuisance, he assumed.

Perseus turned back to Aikaterina, a questioning tone in his voice. "Do you really think - "

He was cut off by a rapid change in the environment.

The sun went out.

Gone.

One moment it was there, the next, it wasn't. As if darkness had suddenly won a battle that no one knew was being waged.

The stars were visible, except our own that normally occupy the sky.

As darkness settled in and the forest darkened, Perseus picked up his sword cautiously, his eyes darting about to try and find any movement in the trees. Aikaterina had done the same, crouching and scanning her eyes over the environment around them.

Perseus had no idea of what could've caused such an event beyond divine intervention, something he really hoped wasn't the case.

He was proven wrong.

A light suddenly shined from the river. A harsh light, casting lengthy shadows against the hillside, like a cemetery of the living.

A light so harsh, it couldn't mean good things.

Perseus and Aikaterina sprinted down the hill, streaking between branches and leaping over stones. Aikaterina was fast - she leaped down the hillside, dodging trees before Perseus even saw them. She was moving at a nearly inhuman speed down the hill, and Perseus couldn't keep up..

Aikaterina reached the riverside first, before cursing and stumbling back, nearly losing her footing as she stumbled back from the water into the treeline. She grabbed Perseus' arm, slinging him around her shoulder to prevent him from exposing their location.

Perseus cried out in protest. "Hey!"

Aikaterina put her hand over his mouth, silencing him. He looked to the river and saw why.

Another massive fleet stretched out to the horizon, nearly equivalent amounts of triremes as the original fleet. The ships looked dangerous. Oars slipped in and out of the water with a lethal grace, as the soldiers on deck amassed at the bow, leaning forwards, anticipating battle.

What shook Perseus to his bone were the glows at the front of the fleet.

A harsh yellow, blinding even, the remnants of the sun.

A murderous red, with an aura of rage, of bloodthirst. Of war.

A deep blue, the color of choppy waves during a thunderstorm.

Perseus turned towards Aikaterina. "We need to do something! There are three goddamn gods there, our men are sitting ducks! We have to warn them!"

Aikaterina slapped him.

Perseus swore. "What the Hades was that for?"

Aikaterina looked at him. "Do you really think anyone has a chance against that? Come on. That's three members of the Olympian Council! Including one of the Big Three! We need to get the Hades out of here."

She started dragging Perseus back up the hill, pulling his arm. Perseus pulled, spinning her back around, creating some distance between the two.

"What is happening? We can't just abandon those people. I don't know what is actually happening but nobody is deserving of a death like what those gods are threatening. They need our help!"

Aikaterina stormed up to him until they stood eye-to-eye. "We can't help them right now! We aren't strong enough to stand up to those bastards! Gods knows I want to, but the Athenians don't stand a chance."

Perseus started. "Athenians?" So they were Greeks after all.

Aikaterina ignored him. "And I need to stay alive."

Perseus turned away. "If you're going to stay out of it, stay out of it. I need to talk with my father."

He took a step, hearing Aikaterina mumble something behind him, before something hit the back of his head.

Perseus collapsed into unconsciousness.

"Listen then," I said, "to my dream, to see whether it comes through horn or through ivory."

- Socrates

Percy Jackson opened his eyes.

This time, stars and stone dominated his view, not sea and sails. Two stone spires, possibly chimneys, shot up into his vision from either side, sturdy amongst the swaying trees. A light wind blew through the… ruins?... but it wasn't unpleasant in the slightest.

His hands lay on his chest, but they rested on cloth instead of bronze. His shins as well were exposed to the cool night air, rather than lay protected underneath shin guards. He reached out with his senses, but couldn't find any water at all nearby. No river or ocean. Nothing.

He felt exposed.

His hand shot to his pocket once again, this time finding a pen. An innocuous pen, but one that Percy could feel was dangerous. He pulled it out and held it tightly in his grip, ready to fight whoever had kidnapped him from the deck of the trireme. It must have been the work of one of the gods. It must have been.

Percy shuffled up to a sitting position against the wall, trying to remember how he got here. He had no memory at all, other than that of the impending battle between Athens and the Gods. He barely knew anything else.

He knew of his name. And Aikaterina's.

He racked his brain for anything else.

Was he dreaming? He pinched himself, hard.

He couldn't feel anything.

Did that mean he was dreaming or not?

Was this reality?

He stared back up at the moon. It was full tonight, shining down onto the trees with an unparalleled glow. Taking a deep breath, the smell of pine overpowering anything else, Perseus got to his feet, scanning his environment.

He was in an open-air courtyard. Well, the entire structure was open-air; he could clearly see the rooms beyond each doorway missing roofs as well. The stone structure had defined spaces for windows and doors, as well as individual rooms. It must have been a house at one point in time. Perhaps a fire ruined the rest?

Percy moved towards the middle of the room, instinctively uncapping the pen in his hand. A sword soon followed.

"Woah…" Percy swirled the sword, the blade whistling through the air, perfectly balanced. A lethal tool of destruction. It almost hummed as it sat in his hands. Bringing the blade to his eyes, he found an inscription. Anaklusmos. Riptide.

Percy hoped he wasn't dreaming. The sword was too perfect to be real. He wanted to use it.

A howl cut through the air, chilling Percy to his bones. A second followed, and soon thereafter, a third, until the entire forest seemed alive with their calls.

Percy tensed as a new howl came particularly close to his location. He backed up into the corner once again, making sure he could see all four doorways leading into the courtyard at once.

He raised his blade as another series of howls cut through the night air. The moon cast long shadows on the courtyard. Perseus strained his eyes, hoping to pick up any motion in the shadows.

One final howl came, piercingly loud.

Percy's head spun to his right. No activity in that doorway, thankfully. He scanned right to left, stepping back once again. A twig cracked.

He jumped right. Nothing.

He swung his sword behind him, paranoia getting the best of him as the moonlight reflected off his blade. He hit only air.

Percy took a deep breath. "Stay calm, stay calm, stay calm. Nothing's there Percy…"

He recovered, standing tall and turning to face the courtyard once again.

Percy locked eyes with another pair, one of a bright gold, staring amusedly at him from the center of the courtyard. He jumped.

A chuckle came from the massive wolf right in front of him, a disjointed sound, like rattling chains. Percy couldn't look away from those yellow eyes.

Lupa bared her teeth, in what must have been a grin.

"Perseus Jackson. Welcome to the Wolf House."

A/N: So, I was feeling creative, and while on break for college, I decided to start reading Percy Jackson again - I am now back in my wheelhouse. I started writing this story a year ago, but after just a single chapter I gave up. But I now have an outlined plan, multiple chapters already written, and hopefully actual motivation to write. I need a creative outlet, and I'm hopeful this can be it.

This story will likely have a lot of layers. I'm going to make it as easy as possible to follow along, and I hope you all enjoy it. I have high hopes for it as a narrative, and I can already see this growing into a 30+ chapter behemoth should I stay motivated to write. We'll see how that motivation goes, but the more I write at the start, the more I will be interested later on.

But anyways, I reworked the chapter I wrote last year quite a bit, and I hope you all enjoy it. I'm looking forward to keeping it going! Godspeed :)