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In another life, the war against Kronos had lasted less time, and a few demigods had somehow defeated him.
But this was not that life.
Because Kronos isn't a god, he's a Titan. He's a being so powerful that only the combined strength of all his children could defeat him.
And he doesn't just have monsters on his side; he has powerful demigods and even more powerful gods and titans, ready to overthrow the unjust Olympus.
It's not a war Perseus Jackson could win, even with all his power.
So for the next few years, Percy finds himself embroiled in a war against Kronos, watching all his loved ones slowly die.
His mother.
His stepfather.
His divine family.
Not even the gods were spared from falling at the hands of the Titan of Time’s army. How could they win when even other gods were fighting against them?
Zeus was surely regretting having acted like a terrible king, because now not only he, but the entire world was paying the price for his misdeeds.
And Percy, only sixteen years old at the time, found himself having to shed divine and mortal blood to survive, to give his family and the world a chance to avoid falling under the rule of a cruel and tyrannical king.
And yet, while so many died around him, Percy found himself still breathing, still fighting. Fighting for a fallen world and for a nearly extinct divine family.
And even worse, Percy knew he would never see his loved ones again, even if, through some miraculous act of Khaos, he won the war.
Because Percy could feel the discomfort beneath his skin. He could feel his mortal blood boiling, slowly disappearing and leaving only ichor. He could feel his skin yearning to shed from his mortal body into a divine one.
And it made sense.
You couldn't spend years fighting titans, gods, monsters, and demigods and win without paying the price.
His mortal body could no longer bear the weight of his soul, which was growing in divinity. At some point, Percy would ascend to godhood, and mortality would forever be out of his grasp.
And he couldn't stop it, because that would mean not fighting and letting what little he had left be swept away like a tsunami by Kronos and his forces.
Percy had no choice but to fight and prevent his Ascension as much as possible.
And fight he did.
For years, all Percy did was fight while he watched the divine and mortal worlds crumble in the seemingly endless war. Kronos was determined to win at all costs, even if it meant destroying the world and reshaping it in his image.
And Kronos knew he would win; it was only a matter of time. The opposing forces had always been minuscule compared to his own; the only things holding him back were the power of the Olympians and a single demigod who continued fighting even when those forces, too, faded.
Perseus Jackson, the son of Poseidon.
A single demigod had become his greatest problem.
But it was understandable.
From birth, Perseus seemed to have been born divine, more god than demi. Kronos had wanted his body for a reason, for among the demigods, he was the most divine.
And he was right, for as the years passed, Kronos could taste Perseus's growing divinity. His soul was growing so much in divinity that his mortal body was about to explode to accommodate the divinity it could no longer support.
It was only a matter of time before Perseus ascended to godhood, a powerful one with vast domains.
And if he couldn't have Perseus, then Kronos had to eliminate him.
But it wasn't easy.
Perseus was not only a great swordsman from the start, but his years in the war and under the guidance of Ares and Athena improved him beyond measure, not to mention how lethal he was with a trident. Furthermore, his power over the seas and rivers was highly proficient coming from a demigod. To make matters worse, Perseus possessed the nasty ability to control liquids he shouldn't have been able to control, such as poison and blood. And his ability to use water from the air, plants, and trees was practically favoritism on the part of the Fates or even Khaos himself.
And perhaps worst of all, Perseus learned to be ruthless.
Perseus learned that ruthlessness was mercy for himself and his allies.
He couldn't afford to leave his enemy alive only for them to return worse and more powerful; he had made that mistake once, and thousands had paid the price.
So Perseus learned to cool his heart and spill his enemy's blood until it soon became so normal that he did it with cold apathy.
Therefore, Kronos wasn't facing an ordinary being.
That's why he had to eliminate him, his true obstacle.
Kronos even had a plan, but as always, Perseus arrived like a hurricane to turn his plans upside down, and it was Kronos who found himself in danger of falling at the hands of the demigod-almost-god.
So, Kronos decided to risk everything on one journey.
He decided that the best thing for him would be to grab a thread of time and travel to the past to claim the world that was rightfully his.
All this long, long before Perseus's birth.
Kronos couldn't allow Perseus to be born in any way and destroy his plans.
So, with victory at his fingertips, Kronos turned the hourglass and traveled to the past.
"Farewell, Destroyer."
Percy listened to Kronos's farewell with uncertainty, for the Titan was far too pleased. His goodbye sounded too triumphant, even though it was Percy who would win with his disappearance.
But how could he complain?
For the first time in years, peace would reign.
It was true that the world would never be the same; millions of mortal lives were lost, and Olympus didn't have all its Olympians or all its gods, but at least they could begin to heal.
Percy could begin to heal.
‘But of course things weren't going to be that easy,’ Percy thought, wearily watching the three women before him as they manipulated various threads of fate.
"We know you're tired, Perseus, but your fight isn't over yet," Atropos remarked.
"Kronos has been defeated," Percy replied.
"No. He just vanished," Clotho asserted.
Percy's world stopped.
The son of the sea closed his ocean-colored eyes, taking a breath to gather his thoughts.
"But he's not here, that's what matters, isn't it?" he replied, his eyes still closed.
"Not when he's in another timeline causing trouble. He's our Kronos; it's up to us to defeat him," Lachesis said.
"You mean I have to defeat him. You haven't done anything, so don't take credit you don't deserve." Percy spat out furiously, his eyes now blazing with rage. How dare they take such credit when Percy knew beforehand how many lives had fought and how many had been lost to stop the Titan?
The Fates remained silent, accepting Percy’s fury and not objecting to his remark.
“Why should I? Tell me, why continue this fight when he’s gone and I can finally begin to move forward while trying to live in a body that can no longer support me?”
Percy’s question was filled with both anger and pain.
The demigod was understandably weary.
From the beginning, he had been the face of his allies, he had been their shield and sword, he had always been at the forefront.
“If Kronos succeeds, everything you see around you will be destroyed, Perseus. You won’t have to fight because gods and demigods will be a thing of the past. Your loved ones will be gone.” said Lachesis.
“But you,” continued Atropos. “You will live, you will remember. Your soul is too divine for Kronos to truly erase you just like that. Therefore, you will know everything, but you won’t be able to do anything to change it.”
The trembling sigh that escaped Percy’s lips was filled with immense fear.
Percy didn’t want to be alone.
Percy didn’t want to remember all this in solitude.
Percy had no other choice.
“Very well,” was his reply, though it came out with more certainty than he felt.
Inside, Percy wanted to break.
(The beautiful Queen Hecuba of Troy was visited by Lord Poseidon one night.
It was only one night, and they never saw each other again.
After that night, feeling guilty, Hecuba spent the following nights with her husband and king, Priam.
Some time later, she learned she was pregnant, and naively thought Priam was the father.
She never, ever imagined that as the months passed and she gave birth to a beautiful baby, that this child would be a copy of Poseidon, the God of the Seas.
The same hair as black as night and eyes like a shifting ocean.
Hecuba couldn't accept it.
Her baby would be taken from her if anyone found out that this beautiful child was the son of a god.
Poseidon would take him.
The gods would take him.
Her son would be worshipped by them for having survived, but she would never see him again.
So Hecuba remained silent, and to everyone, the firstborn son and heir was Priam's son.)
"When his children defeated him, the Titan of Time cursed them and uttered a prophecy," the woman's voice sounded peaceful, gentle, like a mother's. "He cursed them with the difficulty of having children, many of whom were stillborn and deformed, and others born causing their parents immense pain. And on the other hand, the Titan of Time prophesied and swore that he would return to reclaim his stolen throne."
Perseus Jackson wondered what on earth Kronos had thought by going so far back in time. The titan had truly thrown himself back into Tartarus.
But he understood why he did it.
That curse upon his children and their descendants was coldly calculated. With the gods having trouble conceiving, it would surely be virtually impossible for him, Kronos's worst enemy, to be born.
Kronos had coldly calculated everything to prevent Percy from being born or the gods from having too many allies who could challenge him in the future.
He truly was a terrible father and grandfather.
Of course, that didn't erase the biggest question Percy had.
"My beloved Hector, you will be a great warrior, a beloved prince, and an even better king. All of Troy will adore you."
Why had he been born in the body of the tragic Prince Hector of Troy?
(Deep in Tartarus, where Kronos rested, for the first time in millennia, the titan opened his golden eyes.
He had sensed a distortion in time.
Someone, something, was out of time.
And Kronos had to make sure it wasn't the little Destroyer who had come to disrupt his plans.)
In the distance, across the waters, a boy who would grow up to become the mighty Achilles was dreaming with eyes the color of the sea and a war that threatened everything.