Percy Jackson: The Firstborn

Chapter 13: Chapter 13: Without Him, We Are Lost

Three years had passed since Damon disappeared.

Hades often thought about that fact, more than he would ever admit, because time moved differently when someone important was missing. Not emotionally important. Hades didn’t do emotion like that.

Important like a pillar you didn’t notice until it was gone.

During those three years, the war hadn’t paused to mourn. If anything, it had sharpened.

The Titans didn’t take long to notice Damon’s absence in the battlefield.

And Olympus... Olympus had started to crack.

The council hall felt louder now, not because the voices were stronger, but because the silence Damon used to leave behind, the kind that forced people to think before they spoke, was gone.

Zeus paced at the center of the room like he owned the world twice over. His overconfidence had become a habit, and his arrogance had become armor.

”Another victory,” Zeus announced, as if the word could be forced into existence through volume alone.

Poseidon’s jaw tightened. ”A victory?” he repeated, voice low. ”We lost the western ridge. The cyclopes are retreating. And the Titans are—”

”They’re what?” Zeus cut in, eyes flashing. ”Breathing? Existing? Good. Let them. I’ll crush them all the same.”

Hera’s fingers tapped against the arm of her chair, slow and controlled. ”Zeus your speeches aren’t stopping their advance.”

Zeus turned to her with a smirk. ”And your caution isn’t winning battles.”

Hestia sat quietly near the hearth, hands folded, expression calm, but there was a thinness behind it now, like her patience had been stretched too many nights in a row. Even the fire beside her looked tired.

Hades didn’t move. Didn’t speak. He watched.

He watched Zeus fill every empty space like noise could replace strategy. He watched Poseidon’s temper rise faster every meeting. He watched Hera’s control tighten until it started looking like desperation.

And he watched the war eat everything slowly.

Then there was the other part.

The part no one wanted to say out loud.

Damon.

His name wasn’t spoken often anymore—not in meetings. Not with Zeus around. It had become a shadow-word, the kind that made the air colder if someone let it slip.

But Hades didn’t need the name spoken.

He felt the absence.

The way battles went wrong was because no one could stabilize the line when everything collapsed. The way decisions became louder instead of smarter. The way the cyclopes looked less confident without Damon’s presence among them, without the strange sword that seemed to refuse the rules of the world.

And worse...

The way Zeus looked at that empty space like it was an insult.

”Three years,” Zeus said suddenly, voice sharp. ”Three years and he still hasn’t returned.”

Poseidon’s eyes narrowed. ”Careful.”

Zeus laughed. ”Careful? Damon disappeared. While we fight. While we bleed. If he’s alive, then he chose to leave.”

Hestia’s head snapped up. ”Don’t.”

Zeus’s eyes flicked to her. ”Don’t what? Say what everyone is thinking?”

Hera’s voice cut through like a blade. ”Not everyone.”

Zeus leaned forward, lightning faintly crawling along his fingers. ”If Damon wanted to be here, he would be here.”

Hades finally spoke—quiet, but heavy.

”And if he’s not here,” Hades said, ”it means he’s doing something you can’t see.”

The room fell still.

Zeus turned toward him slowly. ”You defending him now?”

Hades met his gaze without blinking. ”Our brother wouldn’t leave without a reason. I am stating a fact.”

That was the problem, wasn’t it?

Facts didn’t obey Zeus.

Zeus’s smile returned, colder. ”A fact? Or wishful thinking?”

Poseidon pushed up from his seat, anger rolling off him like waves. ”Enough.”

Hestia stood too—not aggressive, but firm. ”We don’t turn on each other. Not while Kronos laughs.”

Zeus scoffed. ”Kronos isn’t laughing. He’s running.”

Hera’s eyes hardened. ”Would you stop being so arrogant and stupid? The last thing we need is to argue against each other when we are losing the war.”

”Without Damon, we are lost,” said Hera, lingering at the door.

Silence again.

And in that silence, everyone felt it, what they didn’t want to admit.

They were losing.

Not in one dramatic collapse. Not in a single battle. But inch by inch, like the world was being taken from them while Zeus kept pretending he was already king of everything.

Hades watched Zeus like he watched the dead, inevitable, stubborn, refusing to accept the moment had changed.

And for the first time in a long time, Hades allowed himself a thought that tasted almost like frustration.

Come back, Damon.

And arrogance was a disease spreading through Zeus faster than any Titan blade.

As the meeting ended

Hera rose last.

She didn’t say anything.

Didn’t let her face betray her.

Outside, she was unshaken and untouchable.

But when the doors opened and the hall beyond lay empty, Hera’s eyes lingered there for a heartbeat too long.

Just long enough to betray the quiet hope she hated herself for carrying.

That one day...

Damon would walk through it.

Rhea stood at the edge of the hall the entire time.

She hadn’t spoken in the meeting. Hadn’t needed to.

A mother didn’t have to raise her voice to hear what was breaking.

She watched Zeus storm away like thunder, watched Poseidon leave like a tide ready to drown, watched Hera linger at an empty doorway, watched Hestia hold her calm like a candle in a storm.

And she understood the cruelest truth of all—

The war wasn’t only taking their strength.

It was taking their family.

Demeter found her before the hall could fully empty.

No armor clinking. No anger trailing behind her. Just quiet footsteps and the faint scent of earth, steady, familiar.

She didn’t look at the door Hera had stared at.

She looked at her mother.

”Mother,” Demeter said softly.

Rhea didn’t answer, but Demeter stepped closer anyway, close enough that the warmth of another presence could do what words couldn’t.

”They’re still yours,” Demeter murmured. ”They’re just scared. And none of them know how to say it.”

Rhea’s gaze stayed forward, fixed on the fracture lines she could already see spreading.

Demeter’s hand rested gently on her arm, grounding, like soil holding roots in place.

”We’ve endured worse,” Demeter whispered. ”We’ll endure this too.”

”And when Damon returns...” her voice tightened, but she kept it gentle, ”he’ll remind them how to be brothers again.”

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I just wanted to add this Chapter to show the effects of Damon’s Training Arc, lol. Just to let you all know that without Damon, the Gods cannot win the war. ))))))))))))))

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