Weapons, Power-ups and Kampe!

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AN: 50 powerstones, 200 collections and 70k views . . .

WOW . . .

I was thinking of dropping but I guess I could find the motivation with these statistics!

Quote of the day: "What you leave behind is not what is engraved in stone monuments, but what is woven into the lives of others."

--Pericles

[Word Count: ]

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Previously On Percy Jackson: Tales Of Dunamis;

. . .

"How about each of you make a different part of the weapon then at the last moment you can assemble them and throw them to us Kampe won't know what hit her."

The jaw of the Cyclopes dropped. "That's an amazing plan."

. . .

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Now:

. . .

The gods waited patiently in the darkness watching as their uncles worked crafting their weapons, making each one look like a harmless, incomplete piece of trash.

. . .

I don't know if the stuff would've gotten through air security but it definitely worked. Kampe didn't bother to look twice, that meant the plan was working.

. . .

The next time the she-dragon turned her head and marched off towards the Hundred-Handed Ones, Brontes quickly attached the final piece, assembling the first magic weapon and tossed it to Zeus.

. . .

It looked like a bronze rocket, about four feet long and nose cones on each end. Zeus's hands fitted perfectly around the centre. As soon as his hand came into contact with the weapon his whole body tingled with power. He was clearly struggling to reek it all in trying to stay unsuspected by Kampe.

. . .

Poseidon frowned. "What's that? It's not a scythe."

. . .

Sparks flew from the points of the magical weapon. Zeus aimed the thing at a nearby boulder, and a thousand tendrils of lightning zapped it into dust, leaving no trail of prior existence.

"Oh yeah," Zeus said. "I can work with this"

. . .

Fortunately, Kampe didn't notice the blast so as of yet she still was unaware of the god's presence. Perhaps things exploded a lot in Tartarus. Ah, who knows.

. . .

A few minutes later, Brontes tossed them a second weapon - a spear with three prongs. Poseidon caught it in his hands. His body flushed with an immeasurable power - not as much as Zeus's but it was still noticeable.

As soon as he held his spear-thingy, he fell in love instantly naming it a trident. He liked pointy things! Also, he could feel the power of storms and earthquakes buzzing through the spear.

When he concentrated, a miniature tornado swirled around each of its three pointy prongs, getting faster and larger the more he focused. When he thumped the trident the fiery pits started to crack and rumble.

"Best weapon," He announced. "Right here"

. . .

Brontes then tossed them a third item. Hades caught this one - a gleaming bronze war helmet decorated with scenes and destruction.

"You get weapons," Hades grumbled. "I get a hat."

. . .

The moment he put it on, his presence completely disappeared, no power leaking of him, no shadows where they should have been, nothing at all.

"Fret not brother, in a way you could say you have the best item," Dunamis spoke, confusing Hades. "Brother your invisible."

. . .

"Yeah," Hades sighed miserably. "I'm used to it."

. . .

"No I mean you're actually invisible."

. . .

"Huh." Hades willed himself to turn visible again.

. . .

"That is one scary hat," Demeter said.

. . .

"Yeah," Hades agreed. "Yeah, it is."

. . .

He decided to try something new. He turned to his brothers and glared at them trying to enforce all the darkness and hatred he could muster inside Tartarus.

Waves of terror radiated from the helmet. Zeus and Poseidon turned pale. Beads of sweat dripping off them. Zeus nearly dropped his new bolt and Poseidon staggered almost falling to one knee. However, Dunamis his youngest brother stood there his face ever unmoving making no signs of fear show, completely unaffected.

'That's my brother. He's so badass, ' Hades thought.

. . .

"Stop that!" Zeus hissed. "You're seriously freaking me out, edge lord."

. . .

Hades grinned. "Okay, so maybe this hat wasn't that bad, the number of pranks I could pull with this. Not to mention the peeping." He said with a smile, the latter he kept to himself fearing the wrath of his three sisters.

. . .

"Dunamis, right?" Brontes asked trudging over to the end of the cell with alone, small circular item in his big, burly hands covered by a piece of cloth.

Dunamis faced his uncle and nodded. "Yes, that would be me."

"I believe this is the last weapon we can make, it is by far my best work. Don't be fooled by its appearance." The Elder Cyclopes said, removing the cloth revealing a beautiful pitch-black ring shimmering in the night light of Tartarus. A bunch of ancient Greek inscriptions wrapped around the whole thing.

It read:

**unum telum, unum telum quod omnes vertere possit, unum telum omnes metuunt, unum telo nemo resisti potest.**

"The ring is completely impervious to damage, not even Tartarus's flames can burn it." He continued. "The ring's capabilities are limited only by the will and intent of the wearer. If you desired you could change its shape, size and even its weight. The weapon can also absorb the energy from a fallen opponent."

. . .

The weapon called out to Dunamis it showed him images of a place filled with immeasurable happiness, he snatched the ring of the Cyclopes and shoved it on his index finger the second he put it on the inscription glowed a blinding white and the once small ring turned into a majestic sixty-two-inch sword gleaming a midnight silver.

He inspected the rest of the sword. Touching the ornate cross-guard that spread out like a leaf, with the flickering inscription embedded in the centre. He ran his fingers across the runes filling the blade's fuller. He had no thoughts about what the symbols meant but felt his finger tingle as he traced their lines. The balance of the weapon was impeccable. The metal of the carved guard, and leather-bound hilt, balanced the thick, heavy blade efficiently. He gave it a few swings, adjusting his stance to compensate for the weight of the sword, which seemed to become lighter as he became accustomed to it.

One word came to his mind. Beautiful. She was beautiful. Dunamis instantly decided to name her Splendida Mors, which translates to gleaming death, it was the perfect match for such a weapon.

The sword was so sharp it would be able to cut a mountain in half and separate the seas.

Dunamis felt so much power, he was unstoppable nigh-invincible, he lusted for battle his multi-weapon ring eager to prove itself.

. . .

His siblings stared jaws dropped and eyes as wide as saucers, power bubbled from the sword, Tartarus was shaking to an extent much much more than what the others did.

Dunamis reverted the magic item into its ring form. The inscription shrank, adjusting to its new size and then it abruptly disappeared. They were replaced with sudden flashing images, one was of him and his sibling surrounding Kampe - in a fight it seemed. Another showed Dunamis facing off against Atlas with his sword in hand. The next was of him, holding his father's scythe and a triumphant smile on his face. It also showed Zeus in the skies on a shimmering white palace with buildings touching the sky, Poseidon was deep undersea in another palace this one more of an aqua blue colour the buildings weren't as tall however, it was more abundant of life. Another was of Hades, he wore his new helmet a dark smile covering his face as to be blended into the shadows of what seemed to be the underworld. Demons scattered the area and monsters roamed free. His eldest brother was inside a palace much like Mount. Orthys, glistening black.

Finally, there was one last image this one shocked him, it depicted him far above the heavens sailing in an endless void, down below he could see everything, the heavens, earth, the sea, the underworld and even Tartarus. Above him was nothing but darkness with millions of stars shining bright guiding him across the vast landscape.

He could hear a singular dark, raspy voice filled with power, much more than anything Kronos possessed, he only said a few words too hard to make out.

As quickly as the images appeared they all disappeared. His siblings were still staring but this time in worry.

"Are you okay brother," Asked Hestia with worry?

Dunamis nodded his head. "I'm fine, just zoned out a little bit."

. . .

Hera crossed her arms and sniffed disdainfully, "Boys and their toys."

"I suppose we get weapons? Are we supposed to be cheerleaders and dance around while you guys do all the fighting?" Hera asked

Zeus winked at her. "Don't worry, baby. I'll protect you."

"I think I'm going to be sick," Hera said.

. . .

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AN: What were those images? Read on to find out!

Powerstones, please.

Would you rather have fortune or fame?

Thanks for reading,

I'm-A-ChildOfGod.