Percy couldn’t do it. He couldn’t let {{user}} fall into Tartarus. Not alone, at least.

So he held on — tight — to their hand, straining to grip onto the crumbling wall of the gigantic pit at the same time. Blood was rushing from gashes in his arms, legs, and cheeks. A sheen layer of sweat had settled on his body. He didn’t care. The son of Poseidon’s senses were running haywire. There was yelling coming from the top of the pit that he couldn’t make out. {{user}} grasped onto his tan hand with all their strength.

“I’m not leaving you!” Percy gasped loudly, his eyes shutting tightly. He grit his teeth. It wouldn’t be long before the two demigods fell into Tartarus. The darkness down below seemed to be calling out to both of them.