You know... endings are funny.
We spend so much time thinking of them as finish lines, as forced periods written at the end of stories we love. But the truth is, no ending truly happens. Not as long as someone still remembers. Not as long as some piece of that story remains alive, beating in the chest of those who lived it.
And on that morning, that final morning, Ikki woke up like that.
Not with the weight of an ending, but with the peace of someone who knew they had arrived where they were meant to be.
The sun lazily filtered through the half-open curtains. The party was over, the wedding was behind them, and all that remained was that moment... warm, silent, and absurdly real.
Ikki opened his eyes slowly. The scent of sweet perfume and sea breeze mingled in the air. The room seemed too big for the world outside and too small for the amount of memories floating around. And there, scattered across the bed, as if the universe had made a point of gathering all the most important pages of his story... they were.
Artemis, lying on his chest, her breathing light, as if time itself had paused to let her rest. Diana, on his left arm, her silver hair falling like strands of moonlight. Annabeth, on his right, her small hand clenched into a fist, even in sleep, as if she never lets her guard down. Sadie and Zia tangled in the sheets at his feet. And Piper... leaning against the headboard, her lips slightly parted in a smile that only someone who dares to dream after a war could have.
And there... in that silence filled with everything...
Ikki felt, for the first time since becoming a God.
Not the end.
But eternity.
Because moments like this, real moments, absurd moments, impossible moments that actually happen, don't end. They stay. They cling to us like beautiful scars. Like marks that time will never manage to erase.
And he knew.
He knew that all the wars, all the losses, all the scars, and all the poorly told stories had led him to this. To that moment that was never about gods, legends, or destinies... but about people.
About those who stay, about those who hold your hand at the end of the line.
About those who, despite all the chaos in the world... choose to sleep by your side.
And that's why endings are just pretty words.
Because as long as there's someone to wake up and see the sun streaming through the window. As long as there's a chest where Artemis can rest, an arm where Annabeth can fall asleep, a corner where Sadie, Zia, and Piper can curl up... the story never ends.
And it was funny.
Ikki knew it would end like this. He always knew. From the moment this crazy world opened its doors to him when he was reborn. From the first time he looked into Artemis's eyes and knew that gods can bleed... and feel.
From the moment he wrote the first words of this story, even without realizing it.
He could see time like someone flipping through an old book on a shelf. He knew exactly where each line ended, where each comma was placed, where each character stumbled, loved, died, or, against all odds, survived.
And yet... there he was.
Lying in a bed far too big, wrapped in a tangle of golden, silver, and brown hair, with different scents mingling in the air—sea breeze, desert flowers, sweet wine, and the strange sensation of a lit fireplace.
Artemis. Diana. Annabeth. Sadie. Zia. Piper.
An impossible collection of moments that, somehow, fate—or perhaps just human stubbornness—decided to bring together.
And him?
Well, he wasn't surprised.
He blamed the alcohol. Of course, it was always easier to blame the wine, the nectar, or the post-party haze, when barriers lower and promises become more flexible. But the truth... the truth was that Ikki never said no.
Not to them.
Not to himself.
Maybe he was a scoundrel for it. Maybe a lucky bastard. But, looking at the ceiling in that moment, feeling Artemis breathing in a calm rhythm on his chest, he knew, as he always knew, that he was neither.
He was just... human.
Even being everything he was, even with the power to rewrite that scene, erase those names, become a hermit in some starry corner of the sky, or turn into a forgotten legend, Ikki chose to live.
He chose the scars, the mistakes, the excesses, and the sleepless nights.
Because endings are a cruel invention of those who fear eternity.
And he... wasn't afraid.
Maybe that's what scared people so much. Not the power, not the stories about the boy who held the sky in Atlas's place, who killed Apophis with his own hands, who brought gods back and buried forgotten monsters. But the way he faced life. As if it were all normal. As if loving too much, living too much, and carrying centuries of weight on his shoulders was just another chapter.
And deep down, it was.
Ikki closed his eyes for a moment and smiled.
Because he knew that last chapter still had a few lines left to be written.
That before the final page turned, there would still be laughter, memories, and that old irony of the gods, who always loved to toy with their favorites.
The difference was that he wasn't just another character in the story.
He was the author.
But on that morning... that final morning, he chose to be just a man.
A man surrounded by women he loved. By stories he collected like war medals and by a future that, no matter how written, he allowed himself to live as if it were new.
Because that's what endings are.
A disguised beginning.
And he... was ready.
Ready to turn the page.
...
...
...
Years later…
Time had that annoying habit of passing even when you don't want it to. The sand in the hourglass trickles, the page turns, and before you know it, years have gone by. Some would say Ikki deserved an epic ending, a farewell amid thunder and battles that would make bards forget Homer's epics. But life and the gods, of course, had a peculiar sense of humor.
The girls woke up that hungover morning, and after a conversation that felt more like a war council, they decided there would be no ending. No dramatic breakups, no broken hearts thrown to the ground. It was Ikki, after all. He was... him. And like anything good and dangerous, he was better in small doses. An agreement was made. Rules were drawn. Some absurd, others inevitable. Artemis, Annabeth, Sadie, Zia, and Piper carried on together, learning that love can be chaotic and functional in equal measure.
And so time passed.
Percy and Rachel forged their own path. Poseidon, in a rare moment of paternal good humor, gave them a honeymoon in the Maldives—private island, bungalows over the water, and seas as blue as Ikki's eyes. Three months of paradise, and when they returned, Percy had an unshaven beard and a goofy smile. Rachel, brighter than a summer sun. The news? Rachel was pregnant. Six months later, a girl came into the world with hair red as the sunset and eyes green as a stormy sea. They named her Calliope.
Percy traded his sword for blueprints. A renowned architect, he specialized in restoring historic New York buildings. Rachel, meanwhile, opened a gallery and a social project for young artists, turning the old Oracle's Den into a cultural center.
Clarisse, to everyone's shock, got married. A Hermes camper who managed to win her over after beating her in a staff duel (don't ask, it was weird). The wedding? Blood, sweat, and mead. But in the end, Ares himself showed up, toasted with them, and gifted them both immortality. Since then, Clarisse and her husband trained new campers, teaching them to survive both monsters and teenage identity crises.
Jason and Reyna, who became a couple after Percy's wedding, were also granted immortality by the gods. They opened a combat school for demigods on the California coast. When they weren't teaching, they traveled the world, hunting ancient monsters and preventing wars only the gods seemed to remember.
Nico and Will? Inseparable. They traveled the world—Japan, Iceland, Morocco. They sent postcards to friends with Nico's morbid jokes and Will's goofy faces. Bianca di Angelo, defying all bets, started dating an Apollo kid who had the audacity to pursue her, even being the sister of the Ghost King. Ikki even approved of the guy... after scaring him a bit, because some privileges must be upheld.
Frank and Hazel lived quietly in China. Hazel managed a spiritual reserve where souls could rest before heading to the Underworld. Frank became head of security for ancient temples. They had a daughter, Mei Xian, who, according to rumors, was scolding ghosts by the age of three.
Leo, who accidentally ended up on Calypso's island, ended up with her. Yes, improbable. But it worked. They married on the island that was once her prison, now transformed into a sanctuary for lost travelers and reformed monsters. Leo set up a workshop for absurd inventions, and Calypso wrote poetry about the sea and her longing.
Silena Beauregard, secretly resurrected by Ikki years ago, became a movie star. She dated a famous actor, and Ikki, proud, smiled as she shone, without that lovesick look from before. Because some things, even for an all-powerful author, need to change.
Aphrodite? Well. She married a mortal. Ikki still laughed at the irony. Hephaestus, tired, asked for a divorce and decided to travel the world, building real and metaphorical bridges.
Hestia, Ikki's eternal favorite aunt, visited him from time to time. Always with sweets, new stories, and that sense of home no other god could convey. She organized family gatherings, even if Zeus grumbled and Hera pretended not to care.
Zeus, by the way, married Sophia, Ikki's mother. Hera? Lonely, bitter, and more like Aphrodite than she'd admit.
Demeter remained obsessed with crops and made monthly visits to Persephone and Hades. Ikki met them sometimes, because even an all-powerful demigod needs a civilized chat with the Lord of the Underworld.
The Hunters of Artemis? Still hunting. Led by Zoe and Thalia, always on the trail of the next adventure.
Katie Gardner? Married. The Stoll brothers? Dating twins.
On the other side of the world, Carter Kane fell in love with Bastet, the cat goddess. Walt Stone took a leadership role in the House of Life. Both happy, both alive, which in Egypt was a feat worthy of songs.
But back to Long Island, the old centaur remained the soul of Camp Half-Blood. His brown hair started graying at the tips (though he insisted it was just stable dust). As activities director, Chiron watched generations of demigods grow and leave, but he never let their names get lost in the dust of time. In his spare time, he worked on a book: *Memories of a Stubborn Immortal*. Of course, everyone knew he'd never finish it, but it was a good excuse to tell stories and sip iced tea on the Big House porch.
Ikki's brother-in-law, Apollo, remained the flashiest and most charismatic god on Olympus. Marriage was never really a priority for him, but the son of Zeus finally found someone worthy: a muse of epic poetry named Eileithyia. They traveled through golden palaces and enchanted forests, composing ballads, dueling in haikus, and vying for who shone brightest at Olympian parties (spoiler: it was always Apollo). He still made a point to visit Camp Half-Blood during summer festivals, bribing Chiron to let him win archery contests.
Hermes remained the tireless messenger, patron of travelers, thieves, and pranksters. Over the years, he toned down the heavier tricks and focused on organizing secret gatherings of demigods scattered across the world, creating an informal network to help runaway or orphaned campers. He still collected bad jokes and claimed any mission was better if it involved running fast and catching someone off guard.
The Lord of the Seas held his post with firmness. The coral throne gleamed under the depths, and Poseidon, with his blue gaze and silver beard, ruled with both strength and tenderness. He never stopped protecting Sally and Percy, showing up at crucial moments to offer advice or just ask how dinner was. In his free time, he surfed tsunamis and raced dolphins. He also became a doting grandfather when Percy had Calliope, always offering miniature tridents as baptism gifts.
Sally wrote cookbooks and light romance novels under a pseudonym and gave talks on "How to survive mythological monsters and still make a decent dinner." She remained Percy's emotional anchor, and more than once, gods dropped by to taste her legendary chocolate cake.
Paul kept teaching English but gained fame in academic circles after publishing an article titled *Mythology as a Tool for Contemporary Social Analysis*, which, ironically, no one knew was based on real life. Known for his sharp humor and calm demeanor, he was loved by campers and respected even by Dionysus, which was no small feat. He and Sally traveled every summer, always with Percy and the grandkids in tow.
Mr. D kept grumbling, of course—some things never change. But after years of dealing with demigods, he admitted (muttering and staring at the ground) that he kind of liked the kids. Over time, he started organizing card and dice tournaments among the cabins. Secretly, Dionysus swapped extravagant wines for grape soda, but only Chiron knew and never told.
Grover became the most respected satyr, head of the Council of Nature Spirits and Protector of Sacred Forests. He married, and with his wife, he protected magical groves and forgotten creatures. Pan showed up now and then to help. Grover kept his clumsy charm, but his courage was legendary. New satyrs wore shirts saying "Do as Grover would," even if no one knew exactly what that meant.
Tyson remained the pure-hearted hero everyone loved. He worked as a master forger in Poseidon's domains, crafting legendary artifacts for gods and heroes. He was a regular at Percy's family gatherings and, from time to time, helped at Camp Half-Blood, teaching campers to make armor from shells and underwater metals. He also adopted a pet sea dragon named Bubble, who took everyone for rides around the reefs.
Even the Norse got in on the action. Magnus Chase became captain of a ghost cruise ship to Valhalla. Hearthstone and Blitzen opened a mystical jewelry shop. Samirah al-Abbas? Married, happy, and masterfully balancing mortal life and divine promises.
The truth is, everyone, in their own messy and beautiful way, moved on. Loved. Lived.
And Ikki?
Life was good to him.
He recorded music with Apollo. Wrote bestsellers that Annabeth proofread before they went to the publisher. Directed films where Sadie insisted on improvising lines. Produced documentaries about ancient legends with Piper. Hunted in enchanted forests with Artemis and Diana. And every night, he returned to a home made of six laughs, stories, teasing, and love. He married six women who entered his life and refused to let go, making them immortal to stay by his side.
In old age—if a transcendental being could even age—he sat under the stars, writing his final stories. And he knew: as long as those constellations shone, as long as their names were whispered in the wind, as long as a demigod dared to dream of changing the world, he would be there.
In the eternity of stories.
In the song of the forests.
In the echo of the pyramids.
In the gleam of thunder.
The one who lived. Who loved. Who told.
And who will never be forgotten.
---
(A/N: Well, folks. This story has finally come to an end, after over five years of trying and abandoning it, I've finally given a conclusion to Ikki's story. Honestly? If I were to do everything I planned, it would've gone on for over a thousand chapters, but it had become tedious to write. I took the first version of the story and continued, full of plot holes, tried to fix it, and make it a good work.
I still don't know if I succeeded, to be honest.
But I liked everything that was done.
I feel fulfilled for finally finishing this story.
Ikki got the happy ending he deserved. I could've detailed it better, but it would've been inconsistent with everything. He's already surpassed the author, and if I detailed some things, he would've killed the narrator again.
I sincerely hope you all enjoyed it. I really want to hear your opinions.
There will still be some sidestories from time to time, with tales of Ikki's life with his wives or in other worlds. You can suggest ideas for me to bring those to life.
That's it...
It was a beautiful journey, wasn't it?)