Chapter 151: Her Story

[Third Person's PoV] 

"Wait, I don't understand. What did my father do to you that made you hate him so much?" Percy asked, tilting his head in frustration.

"Don't answer that question," Lucian said with a sigh, clearly annoyed at the situation.

Percy, along with everyone else except Annabeth, looked at Lucian in confusion.

"What? Why not? I have every right to know what my father did," Percy said, his tone growing serious.

"Ever heard of blissful ignorance? Trust me, you don't want to know," Lucian replied.

"I think I should tell him," Medusa scoffed. "Every child should know what kind of monster their parents are."

"Like you said, he's a child, and he can learn when he's older. He doesn't need to be burdened with the past right now," Lucian said, glaring at Medusa disapprovingly.

"I'm sorry, Lucian, but you don't get to decide what I can and can't learn about my own father," Percy retorted, his fists tightening around his utensils. "This has nothing to do with you, so stay out of it."

Percy then turned to Medusa, biting the inside of his cheek. "Tell me."

Suddenly, Thalia's eyes widened as realization hit her. "By the gods! I just realized—you're Medusa!" she exclaimed, interrupting the tension.

Everyone turned to stare at her, including Grover, who had stopped chewing mid-bite. His eyes widened in horror, and he swallowed hard, his lips trembling as he looked at Medusa. "That really was my Uncle Ferdinand, wasn't it?" he muttered.

Thalia, seemingly oblivious to the tension, continued, "I just got it. The statues, the history with Percy's father—it all makes sense now!"

Lucian and Annabeth exchanged tired glances.

"And based on how neither of you looks surprised, I'm guessing you already figured it out. Thanks for the heads-up, guys," Thalia said sarcastically.

Clarisse suddenly jumped onto the table, pulling out her spear with a grin. "So, does this mean we have to fight her?"

Before she could make a move, Lucian extended his hand, and tendrils of shadow shot out, wrapping around Clarisse and setting her back in her seat, binding her to the chair.

"Don't do that again," Lucian said, his voice low and serious, his narrowed eyes warning her.

Lucian sighed, clearly frustrated with how quickly the situation was spiraling out of control. "Why are you doing this, Medusa?"

Medusa scoffed. "I should hate him for his namesake alone," she said before pausing and sighing, her tone softening. "But I'm sorry… His eyes, they remind me too much of him. I couldn't help but get triggered."

Clarisse, still bound to her chair, frowned. "I don't get it. From what we were taught, you and Percy's father were lovers. You were caught... you know... in Athena's temple—"

Before she could finish, Lucian cursed under his breath and quickly shot tendrils of shadow, covering everyone's eyes.

Medusa slammed her hands onto the table, the force rattling the plates and silverware. She stood up abruptly, her glasses sliding off her face as her hair began to grow, revealing serpent-like features. "HE AND I WERE NO SUCH THING!" she shouted, her voice breaking with anger and sorrow. "LIES! THEY ARE ALL LIES!"

Tears of rage and shame streamed down her face as she grabbed her glasses and stormed out. Lucian's tendrils slithered away, uncovering everyone's eyes.

"Nice going, everyone," Lucian muttered, standing up. "You just couldn't keep your curiosity to yourselves." He followed after Medusa, looking visibly irritated.

"I just wanted to know more about my father…" Percy mumbled, staring at his plate.

"If she said it was a lie… then what's her side of the story?" Clarisse asked, guilt creeping into her voice.

"It's bad… really bad," Annabeth said, pushing her plate away, clearly having lost her appetite.

"Tell us," Percy insisted, his tone determined. "I'm tired of people hiding things from me. I deserve to know."

Annabeth hesitated for a moment, then sighed. "Just know that Lucian was trying to protect you from the truth you're about to hear. This is Medusa's story—the real one, not the version twisted to make the gods look good, as Lucian explained it to me."

Everyone sat in silence, hanging on to Annabeth's words.

"A long time ago, in the ancient world when the gods still walked the Earth, Medusa was a priestess—a very special one, actually. She wasn't just any priestess; she was my mother's most devoted Priestesses. She was also said to be the most beautiful woman, with a beauty that rivaled even the goddesses themselves. But that beauty was also a curse. It invited countless suitors, mortal and immortal, seeking her hand in marriage. But she always declined. She was devoted to my mother in both body and soul."

Annabeth paused, clearly uncomfortable with what she was about to say.

"Unfortunately, her beauty attracted not only mortals but also gods. And one of those gods… was your father, Percy. But, as always, she rejected him. She was bound by her devotion to my mother. But your father… your father is one of the three most powerful gods in Olympus, and he couldn't stand being rejected by a mortal woman. His pride wouldn't allow it."

The group sat in tense silence, listening as Annabeth recounted the grim tale.

Annabeth closed her eyes briefly, clearly disgusted. "This is the part of the story I hate the most," she muttered under her breath.

She took a deep breath and continued, "Your father couldn't accept no as an answer, so he decided to ambush her when she was most vulnerable—when she was praying to my mother…"

Tears streamed down Annabeth's face as she forced herself to continue, her voice trembling. "He... he took advantage of her. He violated her right in front of my mother's statue, in the middle of the temple. She couldn't fight him off—he was a god, and she didn't have the power to resist."

She paused, struggling to keep her composure. "And my mother... my mother walked in. She saw it happening. Instead of helping her most devoted priestess, she just... let it happen. When your father was done and left, instead of comforting her, she punished her."

Annabeth's voice grew shakier as she balled her fists, the pain evident in her eyes. "My own mother punished her priestess for two reasons. First, because she was afraid of your father's power and couldn't stand up to him, so she punished the only one she could. And second... because she was jealous of Medusa's beauty. She was so jealous that she turned her into a monster as punishment—a monster so hideous that anyone who looked at her would turn to stone, petrified."

When she finished, Annabeth stared at the ground, her fists clenched tightly, tears streaming freely as her lips quivered. 

Percy stood frozen, a single tear running down his cheek, his face otherwise expressionless, numb to the flood of emotions washing over him. 

Thalia's fists were clenched in rage, electricity sparking dangerously around her as she struggled to contain her anger. Clarisse, overwhelmed by guilt for how she'd once treated Medusa, looked down and held her head in her hands, ashamed.

Grover quietly pushed his plate away, the weight of the story draining him of any hunger he once had. The entire room was silent, consumed by the gravity of Annabeth's words.

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