The march to Urû'baen felt endless, like the whole world was holding its breath. We'd taken Dras-Leona, pushed through the last Imperial holdouts, and now the Varden—plus our weird mix of elves, dragons, demigods, and whatever Angela counted as—closed in on the capital. Galbatorix's city rose on the horizon like a black crown, its towers stabbing the sky, the palace at the heart of it all gleaming with stolen magic.
We moved in columns: Saphira and the other dragons overhead, Furnöst and Shorai flanking them like backup singers. Eragon rode Saphira, Arya beside him on her own mount sometimes, but mostly on foot with the elves. Annabeth stuck close to me, her hand brushing mine when no one was looking. Roran led the human vanguard, Nasuada directing from a litter carried by loyal guards. The air buzzed with tension—everyone knew this was it.
I kept Riptide capped in my pocket, feeling the sea's pull even though we were miles inland. The merged worlds still glitched sometimes: a Greek harpy screeching overhead before vanishing, or a dragon suddenly breathing lightning instead of fire. But Galbatorix waited in his throne room, or so the scouts said. No big dragon duel outside the walls this time. He was holed up, probably smirking behind wards thicker than Tartarus.
We didn't talk much on the road. Annabeth sketched battle plans in the dirt at night, muttering about weak points in the palace layout she'd pieced together from elven memories and her own brain. I mostly listened, cracked dumb jokes to keep her from stressing too hard. "If he tries mind tricks, I'll just flood his fancy room," I said once. She rolled her eyes, but smiled.
The city gates fell after a furious battle, wards cracked by the combined attacks of elves and magic, soldiers surrendering in droves. The real storm waited inside.
We breached the citadel like a knife through silk. Eragon, Arya, Saphira, and a handful of elves—Blödhgarm and the spellweavers—pushed straight for the palace core. The rest of us secured the halls, dealing with guards, traps, whatever Galbatorix had left as speed bumps. Annabeth and I hung back with the main force, covering flanks, taking out pockets of resistance. It wasn't our show to lead; this was Eragon's world, his enemy from the start.
The palace was massive—marble corridors echoing with boots and dragon roars from outside. Shruikan's shadow passed windows, massive wings blotting light as he clashed with Saphira high above. Explosions of magic lit the sky like fireworks gone wrong. I caught glimpses through arched openings: blue fire from Brisingr, red from Thorn somewhere distant, Murtagh's silhouette darting between strikes.
Down here, it was chaos but controlled. Imperial elites charged us in waves—armored, enchanted, screaming loyalty to their king. Annabeth and I worked the edges. She spotted a rune-trap on the floor, shouted a warning in mixed ancient language and Greek; I blasted it with water, short-circuiting the spell in a hiss of steam. We took down squads together—her directing, me executing. Riptide sliced through plate like butter, Annabeth's dagger finding gaps, her wards deflecting arrows.
But we weren't the stars. Eragon's group vanished deeper, toward the throne room. Word filtered back fast: they'd breached the inner sanctum. Galbatorix had them—Eragon, Arya, Saphira, even little Elva—pinned with some uber-word, stripping wards, freezing movement. The king monologued, all smug power, revealing he'd mastered the name of names. Total control over magic.
I felt it ripple out—a pressure wave that made every spell fizzle for a second. Annabeth grabbed my arm. "They're in trouble."
We pushed harder, clearing a path for reinforcements. Elves poured in behind us, Nasuada's orders ringing. Roran smashed through a barricade like it owed him money. But the real fight was upstairs.
From what Eragon told us later (and bits we overheard through mind-links Saphira shared), it unfolded brutal and quiet. Galbatorix toyed with them—forced visions, threats to break minds. Eragon resisted, drawing on the Eldunarí he'd carried, the hearts of hearts giving him endurance. Murtagh turned—snapped his oaths somehow, stripped Galbatorix's wards in a surprise move. That opened the door.
Eragon hit him with empathy—not a flashy spell, but raw: every pain Galbatorix had caused, reflected back in full. The king's victims' suffering flooded him—centuries of it. He screamed, begged to end it. Eragon refused. Galbatorix, cornered, desperate, spoke his own end: "Be not." His body unraveled into light, energy exploding outward.
The blast wave ripped through the palace. Stone cracked, ceilings collapsed. I threw up the biggest water shield I could—Annabeth layered wards over it—protecting our section. The shock hit like a tsunami, hurling bodies, shattering glass. When the light faded, the throne room was rubble. Galbatorix gone. Eragon shielded the others just in time.
Shruikan felt it—his roar turned to grief. The black dragon faltered mid-air, then fled, broken. Thorn landed hard nearby, Murtagh sliding off, looking wrecked but free.
We regrouped in the shattered hall. Eragon emerged, pale, Brisingr sheathed. Arya supported him; Saphira nuzzled close. The Varden cheered, but it was subdued—too much loss, too much weirdness from the merge.
Annabeth and I hung back, letting them have the moment. We'd helped hold the line, taken out threats, but this victory? It was Eragon's. His burden lifted, his path changed forever.
I squeezed Annabeth's hand. "We did our part."
She nodded, eyes on the horizon where dragons circled. "Yeah. And now... maybe we figure out how to get home. Or if home's even the same anymore."
The palace smoldered. The king was gone, and their world heaved a great sigh of relief.
TIME SKIP!!
The rooms Nasuada had given us in the palace were way nicer than anything we'd had in months. High ceilings, tapestries that didn't smell like dragon smoke, a balcony overlooking what was left of Urû'baen after the blast. Annabeth was already unpacking—well, mostly organizing her sketchbook and a few elven scrolls she'd "borrowed" for study. I flopped onto the bed, staring at the ceiling, still processing that Galbatorix was actually gone. No more king. No more war. Just... quiet. Weird quiet, the quiet that maybe promised some peace in our lives
A rainbow shimmered in the corner of the room, right above the washbasin. No drachma needed; the gods apparently didn't bother with mortal currency anymore when they wanted to talk.
The rainbow solidified into a misty screen. Zeus appeared first—big beard, lightning-bolt eyes, looking like he'd just come from yelling at someone. Hera stood beside him, arms crossed. Poseidon was there too, trident in hand, giving me that half-proud, half-exasperated dad look. Athena hovered behind Annabeth, owl perched on her shoulder. A few others flickered in the background—Apollo, Artemis, maybe Hermes—but the big three dominated.
"Perseus Jackson," Zeus opened. "And Annabeth Chase."
I sat up. "Hey, Dad. Lord Zeus. Everyone. Nice timing, you know, maybe next time give us a choice about dropping us into a world on the brink of civil war?" I asked sarcastically, my bitter feelings rising to the surface.
Poseidon cleared his throat. "The merge is stabilized. The rift Angela caused—deliberately, we now know—has been sealed from our side. Your mission here is complete."
Annabeth stepped closer, eyes narrowing. "Mission? We didn't sign up for a mission. We got yanked here, fought a war, and helped kill a tyrant, AGAIN!"
Athena's voice was cool. "The oracle at Delphi spoke of a bridge between worlds. Angela, daughter of Hecate, acted as the catalyst. You two were the anchors—demigods strong enough to hold the balance while the war played out. Eragon's victory was necessary; your presence ensured that in case of his loss, you would ensure victory."
I rubbed my face. "So we were... what? Cosmic duct tape?"
Poseidon almost smiled. "More like the heroes who kept two pantheons from tearing reality apart. You did well, son."
Zeus cut in. "The point is, the job's done. Return to Camp Half-Blood. The barrier there needs reinforcing; monsters are restless after the dimensional shake-up."
Annabeth crossed her arms. "And if we don't want to leave yet? This world—it's not just a battlefield anymore. We have friends here. Dragons. Elves. People who fought beside us."
Hera raised an eyebrow. "Sentiment is admirable, but you belong in your realm."
Tension crackled. I felt Annabeth's hand slip into mine—tight, grounding.
I looked straight at the gods. "We're going back. But we want a deal. We come back here whenever we want. No restrictions. No, 'only in emergencies.' These people saved our lives, too. We owe them visits. And they might need us someday."
Zeus's eyes flashed. Poseidon opened his mouth—probably to argue—but Athena spoke first.
"Reasonable," she said. "The merge left faint connections. Portals can be allowed, controlled, and monitored. You may return, provided you do not destabilize either world."
Poseidon nodded slowly. "Agreed. But sparingly, Percy. Your mother would kill me if you vanished for another year."
Annabeth exhaled. "Deal."
The rainbow flickered. "One more thing," Zeus said. "The truth must be shared with your allies here. Angela already knows her heritage—she's been hiding it well. The others... they deserve to understand why you were here."
Before we could respond, the message ended. The rainbow dissolved.
Annabeth and I exchanged a look. "Time to break some news."
We found them in the great hall—Nasuada at the head table, Eragon and Arya nearby, Angela lounging on a windowsill like she owned the place. They turned as we walked in.
"Guys," I said. "We need to talk. And it's gonna sound insane."
I laid it out—straight, no sugarcoating. Gods. Olympus. Demigods. The merge being partly Angela's doing because she was Hecate's kid. Why Annabeth and I were pulled here as balance-keepers.
Angela just smirked. "Took you long enough to figure out I wasn't just a weird fortune-teller."
Nasuada's face went blank, then sharp. "You're saying... the gods of old myths are real? And you've been their champions all along?"
Eragon stared at me like I'd grown a second head. "You fought dragons and Shades because Zeus told you to?"
"Not exactly," Annabeth said. "More like we got dragged in and made the best of it. But yeah—the Greek gods exist. And Angela's one of us."
Arya touched her ears, as if checking they were still pointed. "And you hid this? From us?"
"We didn't know how to explain without sounding crazy," I said. "But the gods just gave us permission to come clean. And to come back. Whenever."
Silence stretched. Then Eragon spoke, voice quiet. "Can we... see your world? Olympus? The camps?"
I winced. "Maybe later. Right now, things are messy back home—monsters acting up, the barrier shaky. We need to fix that first. Get settled. Then... yeah. We'd like that."
Annabeth nodded. "Promise. We'll figure it out."
Nasuada stood. "You've given us freedom from a tyrant. If your world needs you, go. But know you're always welcome here."
Angela hopped down. "Tell Hecate I said hi. And bring back some ambrosia squares next time."
Goodbyes were quick—awkward hugs, back-slaps. Roran appeared at the door, gave me a nod that said everything. Saphira rumbled from outside, her mind brushing mine: Come back soon, little demigod.
Annabeth squeezed my hand one last time. I pulled out the drachma the gods had left on the table—gold, etched with a trident and owl.
"Ready?" I asked.
She nodded along with Furnöst and Shorai, who would be going with us.
I tossed it into the fading rainbow mist that reappeared. "O Iris, Goddess of the Rainbow, show us Camp Half-Blood."
Light exploded—golden, warm, familiar. The hall vanished in a shower of shimmering particles. When it cleared, we stood on Half-Blood Hill, the strawberry fields stretching below, Thalia's pine rustling in the breeze.
Home.
But part of me was already looking back and forward—across worlds—for the next visit and being glad to be home.
A/N: Wow. This was such a journey, and as I sit here, finishing this last word, I really don't know how to describe it. I know for sure I wouldn't have been able to do it without all of your support, specifically seaw33dbrainWiseg1rl for their constant stream of support. Anyway, I also thank everyone else and hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!