Chapter Text
The streets of New York City bustled with life as a black sedan pulled up to a nondescript apartment building. Clarke Griffin, a solemn twelve-year-old girl with golden blonde hair and deep blue eyes, stepped out of the car with her worn-out backpack slung over her shoulder. She glanced up at the towering building, feeling a pang of anxiety tightening her chest.
She had no idea what she was facing here. God, this was so confusing. The whole old world ended on May 10, 2052. And yet, here she stood in the middle of the Big Apple, the city she only saw in the movies. Well, maybe she shouldn't be surprised after everything that happened. Finding out that Earth was habitable, spirits of Heda and Wanheda, and the second nuclear apocalypse. Everything here felt so unreal. No sword fighting, no making harsh choices that would kill the innocents either way you choose. And no woods, Clarke thought, grimly. That was one of the things she missed. It looked so barren in the city, sure, there was Central Park, but it was different. And she missed...Lexa. God, she missed Lexa so much. She was long dead even before in their universe, but...
And she missed all her friends. Those who survived till the end—Raven, Octavia, Echo, Indra, Murphy and Emori, Gaia, Jackson, Miller, Niylah, and more. Especially Raven and Octavia. They all lost someone they loved dearly. Raven lost Anya, Octavia lost Lincoln, Clarke lost Lexa and none of them really got over it.
"Clarke!" Clarke's thoughts were cut short as her social worker, Mrs. Johnson, called her. She was a middle-aged woman, a bit plump with bored brown eyes. She supposed Mrs. Johnson wasn't naturally ignorant, just very tired from her life. She could understand it, anyway. So she wasn't that bothered.
You may be wondering what Clarke was doing in the middle of New York City with a social worker. Well, the truth was, ever since she regained the memory from her past life and started to feel Wanheda's spirit inside her, Abby, nor her father Jake was around. She desperately wanted to see them again, but her record showed that whatever was the case, they weren't around her. It brought a bitter taste to her mouth. Either they all died like in her past life or just didn't want her. So she has been fostered by the system for her whole life.
Clarke sometimes wondered if it was only her that was brought back here-whether she actually was in an alternative universe, or just time-travelled, was unknown to her. The only way she knew that it was real was Wanheda's symbol tattooed on her left forearm and the tattoo of Skaikru's leader from joining the coalition. Well, at least she wouldn't be that crazy to imagine tattoos on her arms. She hoped not.
And she hoped this was a different universe, or else she would die in about fifty years or so. Clarke chuckled, darkly. She wasn't looking forward to that.
"Clarke!" Mrs. Johnson called again loudly, this time a bit more irritated. Clarke sighed, squaring her shoulder, and followed Mrs. Johnson to the inside of the imposing apartment building. It was on the less neat part of the city, even considering that it was New York. Everywhere was dirty. The building was undoubtedly old, with few fractures here and there with unkept dirty windows. One window caught Clarke's eyes. It was wiped clean, unlike most of the others, and she could see a raven-haired boy, blonde girl, and dark-haired, smiling woman on the other side of the window. Fiddling with her worn backpack's straps, she wished that was the family she was supposed to be placed in. But that was unlikely considering her luck.
Mrs. Johnson, looking more irritated as more time passed, anxiously tapped her finger on the clipboard. She pressed the button to the sixth floor on the elevator. Clarke closed her eyes, wondering what kind of wretched person she would be placed with this time. That's when a strong force—smell?—knocked into her. Clarke stumbled a bit, thankfully unnoticed by Mrs. Johnson. Breathing deep, Clarke mentally asked Wanheda.
[Did you feel it?]
[Of course I did.] She scoffed. (Well, mentally scoffed.) [Strikon, I am the oldest being in the universe. There's nothing that can go past my notice.]
[Sure, yeah.] Clarke grumbled. [Any idea what that might be?]
[...]
[You know what it is, but you won't tell me.] Clarke deadpanned, silently cursing the spirit in her head(mind, whatever) that was bound with too many ancient laws than Clarke would like.
[I could give you a hint.] Wanheda offered.
[What?]
[The creatures you've been facing here.]
[So It's one of the monsters that I've just felt?]
[No, Strikon.] Wanheda huffed. [Completely not. The power came from someone like you.]
The elevator dinged, and Mrs. Johnson dragged Clarke by her arm. Clarke repressed the urge to flip her like Anya taught her a long time ago(But she had 10 years to learn from Indra, the General of Trikru, Gaia, the Fleimkepa, and Echo, the top assassin of Azgeda. That was saying something).
[From our world, you mean?] Clarke asked, a bit of hope in her tone.
[No, Strikon. But what you are in here.] Clarke suppressed the groan. That's what she has been hearing from Wanheda for ages ever since her memory came back. But she had no idea what she was in this universe if not Wanheda, the Commander of Death or a time traveller. The only thing that was unusual compared to normal civilian life in this life was... Clarke touched the replica of her father's watch that was strapped to her wrist.
Her train of thought stopped as the plump social worker stopped in from of an old and unkept door, like the rest of the building. Clarke curiously looked around, finding a door that was clean, polished, and painted all new behind her. Could that be the same flat she peeked by the window? Just then, the door abruptly opened and revealed a raven black-haired boy and a girl with blonde hair she had seen earlier. Both looked about fourteen and were wearing identical orange t-shirts that said something like Camp Half-Blood. Then a girl followed behind them. She was the most interesting, Clarke thought. Black short and spikey hair, punk clothes, and a t-shirt that said 'DEATH TO BARBIE'.
When their eyes met, her eyes briefly scanned the clothes Clarke was wearing -unfortunately, ever since her memories returned she felt unsafe wearing anything but leather clothes that she wore as Wanheda or the Grounder's clothing. And because she simply couldn't walk around the city in armour, she chose leather clothes and combat boots making her look very rebellious, especially with her tattoos and guarded expression.
When their eyes met, the girl's electric blue eyes clashed with Clarke's sky-blue eyes. She felt what she felt in the elevator. Strong power, not much unlike herself. The girl's companions felt strong, too. They were someone unusual. And too much like herself than she would like, which meant trouble.
PERCY JACKSON
"Hey, Percy," Thalia called me. "Yeah?" I answered, looking back. I could see a blonde girl in leather clothes and combat boots, looking about twelve, standing with a plump woman outside the door of our neighbours. I silently groaned, thinking about them. The woman who lived there fostered a lot of kids. Like, really many kids. There were about five of them or so when I last counted. And, sure, I won't have a problem with her if she was a kind and caring person, who wanted to give kids help. But that wasn't the case. She only did it for money, and every time I saw her with the kids she was shouting and cursing them, and manhandling them roughly.
Mom and I thought she was probably doing something worse behind the door. The kids looked tough, though. They all had a dangerous aura around them. When you're a normal kid, It would be an illogical assumption. But when you're a demigod, you need to listen to your instincts. It would save your life many times.
"Do you know that kid?" Thalia gestured, pointing to the girl. There was the same powerful and dangerous aura around her, just like the rest of the kids who lived there. Annabeth turned too, studying the girl with an intense expression. Her stormy grey eyes told me she felt the same aura.
"I don't know." I shrugged, "But maybe a foster kid? The woman who lives there fosters a lot of kids."
"There's other kids?" Thalia asked, fidgeting with her bracelet. And believe me when I tell you It isn't just a normal one. It can turn into a shield that's a replica of Athena's original Aegis, with Medusa's head and everything.
"Yeah. My mom and I think she's doing a lot of abuse to the other kids, but there's no way to prove it." Annabeth and Thalia both frowned, and I was sure Thalia could kill some monsters with her glare.
"There's like five of them more. They all got dangerous auras. I thought they were monsters or something, but there's no way to prove it." I said. And also, they were insanely good-looking. I could easily believe that they were children of Aphrodite. But it was a ridiculous thought. They weren't related through their mortal parents, and there was an extremely low possibility for them to meet like that. Unless it was someplace for Aphrodite's children, but their fashion senses seemed a bit off, so I guessed they weren't.
"They could be demigods," Thalia suggested.
But Annabeth frowned again. "But this powerful aura and amount of demigods will sure attract a lot of monsters. Did you notice any difference in the monsters' activities, Percy?" I thought about it for a second, wracking my head, but I didn't think it did. "No. I don't think so."
"Hmm." I knew that Annabeth was thinking really hard now, the storm in her eyes was swirling.
"We could ask more to my Mom when we get back," I suggested because Annabeth didn't look like she was going to leave soon and I was really hungry.
"Yeah," Annabeth answered absently. We waited for the elevator to arrive, wondering what was up with the kids next door.
