Looking back, I guess I never really thought my life would turn out like this. Hell, I didn't even really think I would get past my 20th birthday still alive, but I did. So I guess we should start from the beginning right?
Ok, well my name is Perseus Jackson but please, call me Percy. I was born on August 18 to a lovely lady named Sally Jackson, had an absent father named Poseidon until, well always really. Yes, you did just read that. My father is Poseidon, the Greek god of the sea, making me a half-blood; a demigod.
So, basically, all the Olympian gods and goddesses are real Zeus, Hera, Athena, Hestia, Hades. Every single one of them is real. So naturally, they have children with mortals, making demigods. These demigods are often sent to Camp Half-blood (I know original huh?), and taught how to fight off monsters. I was also sent to that camp when I was 12. Stuff happened, and to make a very long story short, I am The hero of Olympus, Retriever of Zeus master-bolt and Hades helmet of Darkness, Defeater of Ares, (real) Retriever of the Golden Fleece, Savior of Artemis, Guardian of the Ophiotaurus, Blessed by Pan, Hero of the battle of the labyrinth, Leader of camp half-blood, Leader of the battle of Manhattan, Defeater of Kronos.
So yeah, if I had to tell you of all my adventures, it would probably be, like 5 books or something.
Even after everything I've done for Olympus and the gods, they threw me out for a crime I did not commit. The crime of killing my own half-brother, Alex.
Alex had come to the camp, about three years after the second war and I actually liked him. He had been 7 years old, and basically the cutest little brother I could have hoped for. I taught him everything I knew - be it monsters, war tactics, weapons, history; you name it. But one night, someone decided they did not want the young son of Poseidon to live, so they killed him in cold blood, even going so far as taking both of his hands. I had found him the day after, and while soaked in my own brother's blood, Thalia (daughter of Zeus, hunter of Artemis and all that jazz) had found me. That little bitch had accused me of murdering my own brother, making almost all the gods, and all campers, even my girlfriend-at-the-time Annabeth Chase (supposedly a smart and intelligent daughter of Athena) believe her. None of the gods or campers on Thalia's side seemed to remember I had been visiting my mother in the city when the murder had happened. So instead of trusting their savior, they cast me out of my home, my world. They branded me with the mark of a criminal. It looked as if someone had taken an old knife and carved in the words traitor, criminal and godless in ancient Greek between my shoulder blades. That's how it felt at least. Being marked and branded like cattle, having the stamp seared onto my skin, my flesh. The constant feeling of a festering wound.
I was only 19 then, just turned actually, now, 8 years later, I am a new man. My name is still the same, Perseus Jackson, but my story has changed. I am Agent Jackson, level 6, of S.H.I.E.L.D.