The Path Of Glory (Annabeth Chase x Male Reader)

86. Kronos Has A Little Surprise

Back at the Plaza, Thalia pulled Y/N aside. "What did you think of Prometheus?"

He frowned. "What do you mean?"

"He said he wanted to show you something—"

"And I stopped him from doing it."

"But aren't you curious to know?" she said. "He was trying to make you doubt, trying to make you move over to the enemy's side."

"Because you think I'm going to join Kronos after all he did to me?" he retorted. "That I will betray Annabeth? Didn't you hear what I said to Prometheus? They've refused our terms; I will destroy them. Now, get out of my way!"

He pushed himself up on his crutch and pushed Thalia, who was too stunned to try and stop him.

"Y/N, that's not what I meant—" she began.

"Don't mess with me," he groaned. "I know very well what you meant. You think I could betray the camp, betray everyone. But you've got it all wrong! Leave me alone, now. I'm going to get some sleep before nightfall. You should crash, too. There's no telling when we'll get another chance for rest. It's going to be a long night—and maybe our last night."

He didn't like it, but it was the simple truth.

He gave Ethan Pandora's jar. "Do me a favor. Lock this in the hotel vault, will you? I think I'm allergic to pithos."

Ethan tried a smile. "You got it."

Y/N found the nearest bed and passed out. But of course sleep only brought nightmares—and not the usual ones.

Y/N was with Ethan Nakamura at the enemy camp. What he saw made him shiver, partly because the army was so huge, partly because he recognized the place.

They were in the backwoods of New Jersey, on a crumbling road lined with run-down businesses and tattered billboard signs. A trampled fence ringed a big yard full of cement statuary. The sign above the warehouse was hard to read because it was in red cursive, but he knew what it said: AUNTY EM'S GARDEN GNOME EMPORIUM.

He hadn't thought about the place in years. It was clearly abandoned. The statues were broken and spray-painted with graffiti. A cement satyr—Grover's Uncle Ferdinand—had lost his arm. Part of the warehouse roof had caved in. A big yellow sign pasted on the door read: CONDEMNED.

Hundreds of tents and fires surrounded the property. Mostly he saw monsters, but there were some human mercenaries in combat fatigues and demigods in armor, too. A purple-and-black banner hung outside the emporium, guarded by two huge blue Hyperboreans.

Nakamura was crouched at the nearest campfire. A couple of other demigods sat with him, sharpening their swords. The doors of the warehouse opened, and Prometheus stepped out.

"Nakamura," he called. "The master would like to speak to you."

Nakamura stood up warily. "Something wrong?"

Prometheus smiled. "You'll have to ask him."

One of the other demigods snickered. "Nice knowing you."

Nakamura readjusted his sword belt and headed into the warehouse.

Except for the hole in the roof, the place was just as Y/N remembered. Statues of terrified people stood frozen in midscream. In the snack bar area, the picnic tables had been moved aside. Right between the soda dispenser and pretzel warmer stood a golden throne. Kronos lounged on it, his scythe across his lap. He wore jeans and a T-shirt, and with his brooding expression he looked almost human. Then he saw Nakamura, and his face contorted into a very inhuman smile. His golden eyes glowed.