It had to be sewed shut and bandaged via telekinesis given the state of his armor as they didn't have the time for a lengthy surgery that would be required to peel the armor from his body. They didn't recognize him yet of course, his armor was near-damaged beyond repair, scratched and dented in a few places and with parts that had melted and seared to his body.įrom acid or fire, he didn't know nor did he particularly care.Ī Drakon had slashed at the side of his abdomen and had gouged a chunk of his armor out and nearly killed him from the poison in its claws. They saw a stoic and slightly smiling Son of Poseidon limping along with all the other injured fighters. Or at least a part of him was wretched from this plane of existence.īut that was not what those around him saw. It felt like he died when he woke up surrounded by bronze shards and silver ash and before he knew it, he was on Olympus walking with the hundreds if not thousands that rejoiced in the victory won.Īnd for all intents and purposes, he did die. It was an almost surreal and ethereal experience for him as he trudged through the Halls of Olympus, the slight creaking of his wooden crutch echoed in his ears more than the shouts of jubilation that pervaded the marble streets of the Immortal City. An expression of nothing marred his worn, dirtied and bloodied face as he limped his way through the celebrating crowds of demigods, immortals, nature spirits and legacies. I need to make it expressly clear that this is an AU or Alternate Universe based upon PJO and the MCU with elements from many Marvel sources!įor all the cheering and exclamations of victory, there was a certain indifference emanating from the Son of Poseidon.
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