Fugitive Demigods || A Percy Jackson // Advengers crossover

The cold night air bit at their skin as the group arrived at the crime scene. SHIELD's vehicles were parked in a tight formation outside the warehouse, their red-and-blue lights flickering like warning beacons. Percy could already feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. It was too quiet. He had fought in enough battles, faced enough monsters, to know when something didn't feel right.

Fury, Tony, Natasha, Steve, and the rest of the Avengers were all on edge as they stepped past the yellow police tape, their boots crunching on the gravel. The building loomed over them, dark and abandoned-looking, but Percy wasn't fooled. He could sense the underlying tension in the air, a stillness that was too thick, too oppressive.

"You think this is where they died?" Tony murmured, his voice low, eyes scanning the darkened warehouse.

"Where else would they be?" Fury replied, his voice clipped and cold. "Everything lines up."

Annabeth, Clarisse, and Percy fell into step with the group, but their movements were more cautious. While the Avengers were ready for whatever was coming, the demigods' instincts were on high alert, sensing danger the way predators could feel a storm before it hit.

Inside, the warehouse was even worse than the outside had suggested. The place smelled faintly of blood and metal, and there were traces of broken glass scattered like a trail leading deeper into the building. Percy's eyes darted to the corners, his pulse quickening as he tried to map out escape routes, thinking of how quickly everything could go wrong.

"Stay alert," Fury commanded, his voice low and forceful as they moved deeper into the warehouse. "SHIELD agents are on perimeter duty. You're with me."

Percy felt a flash of irritation but bit his tongue. The demigods were used to being underestimated by humans, and Fury's apparent lack of trust only stoked the flames of his frustration.

They moved further into the warehouse. The soft echo of their footsteps was the only sound that broke the oppressive silence.

"This doesn't feel right," Tony muttered, his voice tinged with suspicion.

"Tell me about it," Percy said quietly. He knew that feeling too well—the one that clawed at the back of your mind, warning you of something lurking just beyond the veil of sight.

"Fury," Natasha spoke up, her sharp gaze catching something near the far corner of the room. "There's nothing here. No bodies. Just some broken furniture."

Fury's brow furrowed, but before he could respond, a loud bang echoed from the far end of the warehouse, followed by the unmistakable sound of a door slamming shut with enough force to rattle the walls. The hairs on the back of Percy's neck stood on end.

"That's not supposed to happen," Tony muttered, already shifting into a combat stance.

Without warning, figures dressed in dark tactical gear began to spill out from the shadows, surrounding them from every angle. They moved with an eerie grace, their faces covered with black masks that left nothing but cold eyes visible. They were fast—too fast—and before anyone could react, the warehouse was swarming with attackers.

"Get down!" Fury shouted, drawing his weapon, but it was already too late.

The leader of the group, a tall, cold-eyed woman, raised her hand, and the temperature in the room plummeted. A gust of frigid wind swept through the warehouse, knocking everyone off balance. Percy barely had time to brace himself before an invisible force hit him like a freight train.

He heard Annabeth scream in surprise as she was pulled off her feet by the wrist, her body slammed against a cold stone pillar. Clarisse was yanked in the opposite direction, her attempt to fight back thwarted by a group of the attackers who moved like shadows. Percy tried to move toward them, but another wave of energy sent him sprawling to the ground.

Steve and Tony were already trying to counterattack, but their weapons were useless. One of the assailants grabbed Steve by the shoulders and hurled him into a stack of crates, incapacitating him in one swift move. Tony's suit activated automatically, but it barely held against the strength of the attackers. His arc reactor pulsed brightly, but the attackers moved like liquid shadows, avoiding each of his blows with unnatural precision.

Percy struggled to his feet, his heart hammering. He reached for Riptide, but as his hand closed around the hilt, it was yanked from his grasp by another unseen force. His body went rigid as a figure appeared in front of him, the leader—her cold eyes piercing him like she could see into his very soul.

"Who are you?" Percy spat, his voice laced with defiance.

The woman smiled faintly, a cruel, almost pleased expression crossing her face. "I'm someone who has a very long memory, Percy Jackson. Someone who's been waiting for this moment for a very long time."

Her voice was cold, like a winter wind that froze you to the bone.

Before Percy could react, another surge of energy sent him crashing to the ground. His vision blurred. Annabeth's voice cried out his name, but it was fading, distorted by the ringing in his ears.

"I'll give you one chance to cooperate," the woman continued, her gaze narrowing. "Tell me, Jackson—what makes you think you can hide from us?"

"I'm not hiding from anyone," Percy muttered, though his voice shook. His head was spinning, his limbs barely able to hold him upright.

"Good," she said, stepping closer. "Then let's see how well you do when we take everything from you."

A sudden bright flash of light erupted from her hand, blinding Percy. He tried to raise his arms to shield his face, but it was too late. The world spun out of control.

~~

When Percy came to, his body was cold, and his head throbbed painfully. He tried to move, but his arms were bound tightly behind him. His fingers twitched, but the ropes cutting into his skin stopped him from doing much. He blinked against the blinding white light overhead, groggy, disoriented, and trying to shake the fog from his mind.

It took him a few seconds to focus. The room around him was dim, its walls concrete and harsh. A single, flickering light hung above, casting long, exaggerated shadows across the room. He could feel the vibrations of the building beneath him, a hollow, echoing sense that they were far underground.

He wasn't alone.

Annabeth was slumped against the wall beside him, her head resting against her knees, her hands bound like his. Clarisse sat across the room, her glare sharp and furious, even though she was in the same helpless position.

They were prisoners.

Percy's heart sank, but it wasn't just from the fear of being captured—it was the cold realization that they had been outplayed. These attackers had planned this meticulously, knowing exactly where to strike and when.

Footsteps echoed outside the cell, slow and deliberate. Percy's chest tightened. He didn't need to look up to know the woman who had attacked them was coming. He felt her presence before she even appeared in the doorway.

The woman stepped inside, her boots clicking against the concrete floor. Her eyes gleamed, a mix of satisfaction and something darker, almost... familiar.

"Welcome to your new home," she said, her voice like a chill wind. "I trust you'll find it comfortable."

"You really think you can hold us?" Clarisse growled, her voice dripping with venom.

The woman smiled faintly, almost indulgently. "You'll find that you have little choice in the matter. I'm sure you're all wondering who we are, what we want. But the answers are simple. The Titans never forgot, Percy Jackson. They never forgave."

Percy's stomach churned at the words. He already knew what this meant. The Titans' Followers. Those who worshipped the old powers, the ones who had been lying in wait for the right moment to strike.

"You're going to help us answer some very important questions, Percy. Or, I'm afraid, your little friends won't be seeing the light of day again."

Percy's blood ran cold. The stakes were higher than he'd ever imagined. Whatever they wanted, whatever this group was after, it had just become clear.

This was just the beginning.