The Gamer of the Sea (PJO x DXD)

The sky hung heavy and gray, clouds pressing down like a weight on Percy's shoulders. The rain had stopped hours ago, but the dampness still clung to the air, smelling faintly of earth and wet leaves. The street was quiet, almost too quiet.

His footsteps echoed softly on the cracked pavement as he made his way down the familiar path. The neighborhood looked unchanged—mailboxes still crooked, a few cars parked lazily by the curb, trees swaying gently in the cold breeze. But Percy's mind was elsewhere.

Ping!

[New Skill Unlocked: Chanting]

[Chanting]

[Rank: D]

[Description: You have discovered the ancient method of amplifying your abilities through spoken intent. By chanting aloud, you can enhance the effectiveness and precision of your spells. Power, when named, becomes more than magic—it becomes something new.]

[Effect:

When used with any Spell/Skill, grants +10% spell effectiveness based on chant complexity.

Increases spell stability and reduces mana cost by 10%

Allows the user to chant their intent to add special properties to the spell (e.g., piercing water spear, expanding shockwave, freezing mist).

Adds visual and dramatic flair, often invoking fear, awe, or confusion in enemies. May cause a minor Charisma check in NPCs when chanted.]

His body ached from the dungeon crawl, but the unease gnawing at his gut was sharper than fatigue. He kept his hands stuffed in his jacket pockets, eyes scanning the quiet street, trying to ignore the growing pit in his chest.

His house came into view—small, worn, but solid. The porch light flickered weakly, casting long shadows across the chipped paint of the doorframe. He stepped up the creaky wooden steps, fingers brushing against the rough railing as he reached for the door handle.

The familiar creak of the door opening was a small comfort in the oppressive silence. He slipped inside, shedding his jacket and letting the front door close softly behind him. The warmth of the house was a stark contrast to the chill outside, but something still felt wrong.

The house was unnervingly quiet the moment Percy stepped inside. It wasn't the usual calm he was used to; something felt off. The air was heavy, and the faint sound of muffled voices made his stomach twist. He paused for a moment, trying to pinpoint where the noise was coming from.

Suddenly, a sharp shout broke the silence. "No! Gabe, stop!" The words were frantic, full of fear and desperation. Percy recognized his mother's voice immediately. Hearing it like that—panicked and strained—made his heart tighten.

He didn't have time to think. Every instinct pushed him forward.

His hands curled into tight fists as he moved faster through the hallway, his footsteps echoing on the wooden floor.

The house, once a place of safety, now felt like a trap. He knew the direction the voices had come from and didn't hesitate. The thought of what might be happening twisted his insides, but he refused to slow down.

Percy reached the living room just as the shouting stopped. He could hear heavy breathing and the low murmur of Gabe's voice, cold and cruel.

His mother was trying to steady herself, but the pain in her voice was unmistakable. Percy's jaw clenched harder. He wasn't going to stand by and watch anymore.

Without hesitation, Percy moved forward, ready to confront whoever was hurting the one person he cared about most. The weight of exhaustion from the dungeon faded into the background, replaced by a sharp focus. This was his home, and he wasn't going to let anyone take that away.

Percy stepped into the room and stopped cold. Gabe Ugliano was there, looming over his mother. The bruises on her face were worse than he had imagined—dark purple marks spreading across her cheek and a cut above her eyebrow. Her eyes were red and swollen, but she was still holding herself up, defiant.

Gabe turned slowly and sneered when he saw Percy. "Look who's back," he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Think you're some kind of hero now?"

Percy didn't say a word. His hands shot out, grabbing Gabe by the collar. Without wasting a second, he lifted and threw him across the room.

The older man crashed into the side table, a lamp shattering on impact. He hit the floor hard and groaned, dazed but got up quickly, laughing bitterly like nothing had happened.

Percy didn't even look at him. He dropped to his knees beside his mother.

"Mom. Mom—are you okay?"

She looked up at him, dazed. One of her earrings was missing, her hair tangled, and she was holding her side like it hurt to breathe. Her mouth opened like she wanted to answer—but nothing came out.

Percy turned to Gabe, slowly, breathing hard. The man was pushing himself up, eyes wild with rage and disbelief. "You little—"

That's all Percy needed to hear.

He wasn't going to let this continue. Not ever again.

Not while he was alive.

Despite everything, she was still fighting, trying to protect what little dignity she had left. But the fear in her eyes was unmistakable.

Gabe noticed Percy and turned slowly, a mocking grin stretching across his face. "Look who's back," he said with venom. "Think you're some kind of hero now? What are you going to do? Hit me with your water tricks?"

Percy's jaw tightened. He didn't answer.

Then suddenly with a brutal force born from months of pent-up anger and pain, Percy punched Gabe across the room. Gabe slammed into the wall and crumpled to the floor, but he rolled and scrambled back up with a bitter laugh, mocking Percy like nothing had happened.

Gabe coughed and spat on the floor as he dragged himself upright. His nose was bleeding, and his shirt was soaked with spilled beer and sweat. His face twisted in fury, but Percy didn't flinch.

He stood up slowly, placing himself between Gabe and his mom. His fists were clenched at his sides, jaw locked tight.

"Get out of my way," Gabe growled, stumbling forward.

Percy didn't move.

He wasn't thinking about consequences or what would happen after this. He wasn't even thinking about the System, or dungeons, or monsters. Just this moment. Just his mother — curled up behind him on the carpet, still trembling, still bleeding.

Gabe's fist came up, slow and sloppy, more bark than bite.

Percy caught it mid-swing.

He squeezed.

Gabe shouted in pain as his knuckles cracked in Percy's grip. The sound didn't satisfy Percy—it just made everything feel heavier. Like he was still sinking, even as he stood.

"I'm done being scared of you," Percy said. His voice didn't shake. "You don't get to touch her ever again."

"You little freak—!" Gabe struggled, trying to pull his hand back. "You think you're better than me?!"

"I don't think," Percy said. "I know."

And in the next second, Percy punched Gabe again, this time against the wall with enough force to shake the cheap bookshelf. Picture frames fell. One cracked glass panel hit the floor near Sally's feet.

But Percy's eyes were cold and steady, full of something Gabe couldn't read—something fierce and unyielding. "Leave her alone," Percy said, voice low and controlled, but every word was sharp as a blade.

Gabe scoffed but took a cautious step back. The room was heavy with silence, broken only by the uneven breathing of Percy and the soft sobs from his mother. Percy's fists clenched at his sides, and he forced himself to stay calm.

He glanced toward his mother, pain knotting in his chest. This wasn't just about fighting Gabe anymore — it was about protecting her. No matter what, he would make sure this never happened again.

Percy's eyes shifted to his mother. She was sitting against the wall now, one hand pressed tightly against her arm, trying to hide the bruises and cuts that covered her skin. Her breathing was shallow, and tears still tracked down her cheeks.

He wanted to say something — anything — to make it better. But no words came. All he could do was swallow the lump in his throat and stare at the pain etched across her face.

The weight of everything hit him hard. The exhaustion from the dungeon, the battles, and now this.

He felt the anger rise again, hotter and sharper than before. It wasn't just about Gabe anymore. It was about what he'd done to his mother, the person who meant everything to him.

Percy clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles whitened. He wanted to protect her, to make sure she was safe. No one was going to hurt her again—not if he had anything to say about it.

He knelt down beside her, reaching out a hand, but hesitated. She looked up at him, her eyes tired but grateful. That small look gave him a flicker of hope and steel at the same time.

Percy's hands trembled, but his eyes were sharp and steady. The rage inside him boiled beyond control—no longer fear, no longer hesitation.

He focussed slowly, methodically, Percy extended his control inside Gabe's body. He reached inward—not for strength, but for the part of him he always held back. The part that knew how to manipulate water, how to move it like it was an extension of himself. That power was always sharp, always cold. But now, it felt hot.

He could feel it. Not in the air. Not in the sink.

Inside Gabe.

Percy's eyes narrowed. He focused.

And the water—the blood—answered.

Gabe froze. His face twisted in confusion first. Then discomfort. Then pain.

His veins began to swell beneath the skin. Fat, red lines bulging along his arms and neck. His stomach distended. Fingers ballooned. His skin went slick, shiny, too tight.

"W-What the hell—" Gabe stuttered, stumbling backward. "What are you doing?!"

Percy said nothing.

He didn't need to.

The blood inside Gabe surged. Muscles warped. Capillaries burst. The man screamed—a choking, gurgling sound that cut off mid-breath.

Then he popped.

Like a balloon filled too far.

There was no clean break. Just a sickening wet sound, and then the walls were red. Chunks of bone. Strips of meat. Blood soaking into the carpet, into the couch, into Percy's shirt.

Silence swallowed the room.

Percy's chest heaved, adrenaline and sorrow crashing together. The weight of what he'd done was heavy — but so was the burden of what he'd endured.

Then, like a quiet promise, a new message echoed in his mind.

Ping!

[New Sub-Skill Unlocked: Hemokinesis — Blood Manipulation]

[Description: Control and manipulate blood within living beings. Can be used to manipulate, incapacitate or destroy enemies by manipulating their circulatory system.]

[Passive Skill Gained: Bloodsense]

[Description: You can now feel the flow of blood in living beings.]

For the first time, Percy felt that power wasn't just a weapon — it was a part of him, a shield for the people he loved.

He looked down at his mother, who was watching him with wide, exhausted eyes.

Percy knew this moment changed everything.

No longer a victim of fear. No longer bound by helplessness. No longer the weak child he was.

He was ready. To fight to face the world. And every single mythical being within it.

To protect her, just like she would.

The blood was already drying on the floor.

Percy stood still for a long time, staring at what was left of Gabe. What was left of him didn't even look human. Just blood and meat and splinters of bone, soaking into the carpet like a warning no one would ever see. No more shouting. No more fists slamming into walls. No more pretending things would get better on their own.

He didn't feel proud. He didn't feel powerful.

He felt… clean.

Like something heavy had finally been peeled off his skin. Like years of tension had snapped and fallen away with a single moment.

His heart was hammering in his ears, but the adrenaline was fading, fast. His limbs felt heavy, and his breath came in short, uneven pulls. He could still feel it—the moment when the water inside Gabe answered him. When it surged at his command.

His hands shook.

He looked down at his palms, covered in blood. Not cuts. Not bruises. Just red. A red he couldn't wipe away.

He exhaled slowly, then dropped to his knees beside his mother.

She flinched at the sudden movement just for a second—and that hurt more than anything else. He hated that he'd ever been too afraid to stop this sooner.

"Mom," he said, voice low. "Are you okay?"

She nodded, barely. Her hands were shaking, and her breathing was uneven, but she reached out and placed a hand on his cheek, thumb brushing away the tears he hadn't realized were there.

"You came back," she whispered.

"I'm sorry I didn't get here sooner," Percy said. He meant it. All of it. "I should've done something. I should've—"

"Don't," she said, voice hoarse. "Don't do that to yourself. You did what no one else could."

He looked down, ashamed. His hands were still wet with Gabe's blood, and the power still buzzed under his skin. Hydrokinesis. Hemokinesis. Things that weren't normal. Things that scared him just a little.

"I killed him," Percy finally whispered.

Sally squeezed his hand.

"And he was going to kill me."

She said it softly. Not accusing. Not even shocked. Just… stating it. A fact. A truth.

Percy lowered his head. "I lost control."

"No." She reached up, brushing hair from his forehead with shaking fingers. "You took it back."

He swallowed hard.

"I never wanted to be like him," Percy said. "Angry. Violent."

"I didn't even know what I was doing. I just… I saw him hurting you, and I couldn't let that happen."

She placed her hand on his cheek, her touch gentle, grounding. "You remind me of your father."

That made Percy blink. "What?"

She gave a small, tired smile. "Not when he was calm. When he was angry. Not at me, never at me, but at the things that threatened the people he loved. He could be terrifying. Like the whole sea would rise just because he willed it."

"I don't want to be like him," Percy said. "Not if that's what it means."

She smiled faintly. "You're not him. You've got his strength, maybe. His power. But you've always had your own heart. That's what matters."

She pulled him into a hug, holding him close like she had when he was little. Percy buried his face in her shoulder, trying to remember how to breathe.

She was safe.

She was alive.

That was all that mattered.

And for the first time in a long time, Gabe was gone.

————————————————————

The smell of blood was still thick in the air, but the adrenaline was gone. All that was left was the ache.

Percy moved carefully, guiding his mother to the kitchen sink. Her weight leaned against him, but she didn't protest. Didn't say a word. She just held onto his arm, like letting go wasn't an option.

He turned on the tap.

The water hissed out, clean and cool, and for a moment Percy just stared at it. Strange, how something so simple could still exist. Could still be normal.

He dipped a cloth in and brought it to her lip. She flinched—but only for a second. Then she relaxed, letting him clean away the blood, the dirt, the shadow of what just happened.

They didn't speak.

Not until she looked at him and said, "You saved me."

Percy swallowed. "I should've done it earlier."

Sally shook her head. "You did it now. That's what matters."

He sat back, leaning against the counter. His hands were still stained red. He didn't look at them.

"What happens now?" he asked.

She hesitated. Then: "We survive. Like always."

That wasn't good enough anymore. Not for him. Not after this.

"I won't let anyone hurt you again," Percy said quietly. "I don't care who they are."

She turned toward him. Her eyes were tired—but not hollow. "You're still just a boy."

"I don't feel like it."

"You aren't him, Percy. You're not Gabe. You're not your father either. You're you."

That struck deeper than he expected. He looked down.

"Then why did it feel so… easy?" he asked. "To do what I did."

She reached across the space between them, touched his hand.

"Because you've been scared for a long time. And scared people make hard choices. But what matters is what you do after. Who you choose to be when the fear's gone."

Percy didn't answer.

Not right away.

Instead, he stood, walked back toward the mess that used to be a man, and pulled a small, waterlogged key out of what was left of Gabe's pants pocket. He stared at it, then tossed it into the trash without a word.

Behind him, Sally exhaled.

He turned back to her, and for the first time that night, smiled.

A small one.

Worn at the edges.

But real.

"I'll clean up," he said. "You should rest."

"I should… I should probably scream, or cry, or something."

"You can. Or not. I'll be right here."

She nodded, walked slowly to the couch, and sat down like her whole body was remembering how to exist again.

And Percy?

He grabbed a bucket.

Because this was still his home.

And tonight, he'd finally taken it back.