The Fate of Olympus | Reynabeth [✓]

25. Annabeth Confronts the Gods

"Retirement?" Zeus demanded. A flash of lightning cracked across the sky, hitting the spire of the Empire State Building. "Your demands are ridiculous. You cannot retire! Only death relieves demigods of their duties. As a matter of fact, the same goes for gods. The gods are imprisoned by the Fates themselves. I cannot indulge this much longer."

Annabeth had informed both camps about what she and Reyna had learned. Together, they had come up with a plan to confront Zeus, a dangerous plan that Annabeth would be responsible for executing.

"Do you know why the gods are being imprisoned?" Annabeth asked. It was a rhetorical question and would be useful for their audience to hear.

Annabeth had opened Fleecy messages behind Zeus's back, the same way that Percy had broadcasted Luke's confession to camp when they were thirteen. It was trickier, as Zeus was a god, but he was not all-knowing. 

"I suppose you'll tell me," Zeus said, annoyed.

Ozone crackled through the air. Behind Zeus, the Fleecy Messages opened. She saw the gaping faces of unbelieving campers at Camp Half-Blood on the left. On the right was Camp Jupiter. They were silent.

Annabeth stared at her tennis shoes. She was translating her feelings into words, feelings that she'd had for years but never had the courage to share. She'd faced her worst fears in Tartarus. The gods couldn't scare her into silence anymore.

Plus, she hated it when people questioned her credibility. She knew who she was. She knew she was smart. She might not remember everything she'd ever read, but she remembered her life experiences. And in the years that she'd grown up, she felt much wiser. She was less focused on what others thought of her and more focused on pursuing avenues that made her happy.

What would make her happy now would be to give Zeus a taste of her hard-earned wisdom. Wisdom most demigods would never have the chance to cultivate.

"You seem to view demigods as both your children and your saviors. That's not a sustainable dynamic, so you don't speak with your children until it's time to save Olympus. Then you grant them extraordinary abilities, like the ability to control lightning or the sea or the dead. You honor them as heroes with no regard to those who've perished along the way. And it's a completely foreign concept to you that, perhaps, demigod lives are just as valuable as your own. Your children can't destroy you, so you make empty promises when they challenge the status quo, then you retreat to your comfortable silence where no one can question your authority. You can say you're acting out of immortal wisdom, but the reality is that you're acting out of apathy. You're safe, so you can take your children's ultimate sacrifice for granted.

"You kept the easy parts of your promise from two years ago: you let me be an architect and build monuments to you. But the hard parts of your promise, about undoing your wrongs, have yet to be completed. You've demanded recognition while refusing to recognize us because you value your children as much as you value automatons.

"You have no idea what it means for a mortal—a child, really—to put her life on the line. You have no idea what it means when you watch your friends die. You have no idea what it means when someone you love has their mind twisted around out of spite and anger until they want to destroy Western Civilization. You'll never know what death means. That's the thing about dealing with children who are fighting for their lives in a battle that they wanted no part of. You can either act out of gratitude or you can act out of apathy. Everyone has a choice."

Zeus didn't react. There was no thunder or lightning outside. He was completely still, absorbing every word. Sometimes the gods had relatable reasons for the way they acted. But Annabeth was tired of their excuses. Someone had to stand up to them, again.