PJO: Son of a Primordial

{Unknown Place, Unknown Time}

Odysseus POV

I sluggishly opened my eyes, inspecting myself. The familiar weight of my green hoodie and pants from Ladon, along with my orange Camp Half-Blood shirt, still clung to my body. I blinked, trying to make sense of where I was, but my vision stretched on for miles, as if I could see everything at once and yet nothing at all. A strange sensation washed over me—disorientation, but also clarity, as if I had been here before.

In front of me was something I hadn't seen in almost two years: a giant glowing book. It hovered before me, radiating an ancient, ethereal light. This time, though, I could clearly read the words on the cover—World Records. The shackles that had once bound me here were gone, all except for one, a single chain stretching from the book into my heart, its cold metallic weight pulling me down.

The book opened, pages flipping at a speed that would've been impossible to follow for most, but somehow, I could read each one as they flew by—each a brief glimpse into the lives and deeds of gods and titans. I saw names and titles flash before me: Thor, God of Thunder; Shiva, the Destroyer; Jupiter, Lord of the Cosmos; Gaia, Primordial of the Earth. Finally, the pages stopped, halting on a page that sent a shiver through my body. My page.

The image of my shifting form appeared there, struggling as if it couldn't decide what I truly looked like. The title at the top caught my eye, though I didn't need to squint to understand it: Odysseus, Primordial of Shadows and Souls [Dormant] (Greek Mythology).

Just as I processed this, two figures appeared at my sides, translucent, their forms eerily familiar. Chains extended from their hearts, connecting them to the book just as mine did. To my right stood a woman, her long wavy hair shifting colors—blue, green, red, orange, and more— they eerily reminded me of the colors of auras I always saw. On my left, a man, taller than me, with pitch-black hair streaked with purple, his eyes a haunting mixture of shadow and light. He was veined with darkness, his presence overwhelming.

I couldn't dwell on them long, though. My gaze returned to the book as more words appeared beneath the title, words I could read as clearly as if I'd written them myself.

Titles or Nicknames:

Odysseus, son of Chiron

Odysseus, son of Erebus

Achilles' Reincarnation

Ozzy

The Born Camper

Misery's Bane

The Breaker of Fate

Abyss' Equal

Grandson of Khaos

I swallowed hard as the weight of each name settled over me. The Breaker of Fate. Was that what I had become? My life had always felt like a series of impossible trials, but seeing the title in writing made it all the more real.

I continued reading, though every word felt like a hammer striking my soul.

Odysseus Atonal is born on September 10th, 1990, to Edna Atonal, daughter of Aphrodite, and Erebus, Primordial of Darkness. He becomes the first being born from a union of mortal and primordial, changing the fate of the world. His punishment: the loss of sight and the restraining of his power.

The words blurred as memories flooded back. I remembered my mom in the Isles of the Blest, I really needed to spend more time with her. I continued to read.

Kevin, son of Ares, befriends Odysseus, becoming entangled with his fate and sent on a death quest by Ares for the Cattle of Apollo. He and Hugh die at the hands of Geryon and Orthrus in the Labyrinth.

I stopped. My knees buckled. Kevin. His death had haunted me for years, Hugh had told me that they had died to Geyron, but now I knew something neither of them knew—he had died because of me, because of my fate. My friends, all of them... Clark, Chloe, Emma... I had drawn them into my destiny, and they had perished because of it. The weight of guilt was suffocating. My hands trembled as I read their fates, their tragic ends all linked to mine.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, my voice breaking. Tears welled in my eyes, but I forced myself to keep reading. I had to keep reading.

Odysseus meets the Hunters of Artemis and his father, Erebus. Thalia Grace reaches Camp Half-Blood and meets Odysseus before her fate is sealed. Odysseus is sent on an eight-year quest by Erebus, imposed by the World.

I read on, learning of how I had broken shackles during that quest, how each labor had unlocked more of my primordial essence. I fought Alcyoneus, the giant born to oppose Hades, and nearly died before awakening my powers—only for them to be restricted once more after I killed him. I had befriended the Pygmaoi, met the Kane family, and broken fate by becoming the first Greek demigod in centuries to meet someone from another pantheon. It was a web of fates, and I had pulled the threads tighter with every choice, every battle.

The memories of my sixth quest came back in vivid detail. The Misery Dreams, created by Akhlys, my step-sister. She had cursed me with knowledge I was never meant to have—visions of the future, of events that should have remained hidden. I had seen the war to come, the rise of Kronos, and my part in it.

Odysseus finds the roman camp, delivering the golden eagle 5 years before it actually should have reached New Rome. He meets Jason Grace and tells him about Thalia, therefore closing the gap between roman and greeks a few years before.

I had returned to Camp Half-Blood only to be claimed by Erebus during the feast. I remembered standing before my friends, confused as shadows stretched out from my body, twisting around the campfire as my true heritage was revealed. I had tried to stop Luke, tried to save him from Kronos's influence, but fate had already taken hold. Luke had bathed in the River Styx, becoming nearly invincible, and vanished into Tartarus.

The book's words grew darker, the tale spiraling toward its inevitable end.

Odysseus plunges into Tartarus, fighting Melinoe, daughter of Hades. His intervention leads Thalia to discover Camp Jupiter and her brother, Jason Grace, breaking fate once more. His body begins to crumble, turning to ash each time he uses his primordial essence.

The pain, the memories of my body disintegrating with each use of power, rushed back to me. My fingers crumbling, my skin peeling away—it had been a curse, a punishment for defying the natural order. I had fought Tartarus, I had faced Kronos, but in the end, I had failed. My body had turned to ash.

The book stopped there. My story, incomplete. The rest of the page was a blur, the words constantly shifting, like a late game of tetris. I looked up at the two figures beside me, I could see words above them—Οὐσία Ψυχῶν (Essence of Souls) and Οὐσία Σκιῶν (Essence of Shadows). 

I didn't understand it all, but I knew one thing: I wasn't done. Not yet.

Gripping the blue shackle that bound me to the book, I pulled with everything I had. The figures beside me mirrored my movements, their chains straining as the realm around us began to tremble. Cracks formed in the fabric of the space, the vibrations shaking the very blue ground beneath me.

CRACK.

The shackle snapped, the chains breaking free. The essences flew toward me, merging with my very being, flooding me with power. My body morphed, shifting uncontrollably, but I refused to look away from the book. I felt my form solidifying, a new image appearing on the page—a portrait of me, but different.

My hair, still pitch-black but now streaks of vibrant color, fell to my waist, my eyes a mixture of black sclera and swirling rainbow iris with a purple rim. My skin shifted through colors, veins of darkness coursing beneath the surface. With a thought, I shortened my hair, my skin returning to its usual caramel tone, though the shifting colors beneath remained—my soul, ever-changing, ever present.

I grinned as I read the new title beneath the image.

Odysseus, Primordial of Shadows and Souls [Awakened] (Greek Mythology).

For the first time in a long while, I felt whole.

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