# Chapter 12: Honest Reflections Percy awoke slowly, consciousness returning in gradual waves. He felt a weight against his chest and looked down to find Nico's dark head nestled there, the younger boy still asleep, his breathing deep and regular. There was something different about him this morning—a subtle change Percy couldn't quite identify. The usual fragility that characterized Nico seemed diminished somehow, replaced by an indefinable presence that radiated from him even in sleep. Percy carefully extricated himself from Nico's embrace, trying not to wake him. As he stood, a wave of dizziness hit him, forcing him to steady himself against the bedpost. The feeling passed quickly, but left him with a lingering sense of disorientation. "What's going on with me?" he muttered, running a hand through his tousled golden hair. He glanced back at Nico, who had curled into the warm spot Percy had vacated. There was definitely something different about the boy. His skin seemed to glow with a faint light, and even in sleep, his face bore an expression of satisfied confidence that Percy had never seen before. Shaking his head to clear it, Percy moved to his dresser, intending to find clean clothes for the day. His hand hesitated over the drawer, then changed direction, reaching instead for the blue training suit he'd discarded on the floor the night before. It was still damp with yesterday's sweat, the fabric stiff in places. Percy lifted it to his face, inhaling the strong masculine scent of his own exertion. "Still good for another day," he decided, the thought of showing off his physique in the form-fitting garment, and the eagerness to train with the flexibility of the fabric that let his movements flow like a river. Percy stepped into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. As he stripped off his boxers, he caught sight of himself in the mirror and paused, admiring his reflection with undisguised pleasure. His muscles seemed even more defined than they had been yesterday, each group standing out in sharp relief against his tan skin. "Looking good, Jackson," he murmured, flexing his bicep and watching the muscle peak impressively. He turned sideways, examining his profile. His chest seemed fuller somehow, the pectoral muscles more pronounced, the nipples larger and darker than he remembered. Percy ran a hand across his chest, wincing slightly at the sensitivity but admiring the firm, rounded shape of the muscle. Pulling on the sweaty training suit, Percy watched as the material clung to every contour of his body, highlighting the muscular definition he'd worked so hard to achieve. The blue fabric stretched taut across his chest and shoulders, dipped in at his narrow waist, and hugged his powerful thighs. The effect was impressive, even to his own eyes. It was so tight, the fabric pressing his big muscles with a comforting strength. There wasn't any further space left to grow. A soft knock at the bathroom door interrupted his self-admiration. "Percy? You in there?" Nico's voice came through the door. "Yeah, just getting dressed," Percy called back. "I'll be out in a minute." When Percy emerged from the bathroom, he found Nico sitting on the edge of the bed, watching him with dark, appreciative eyes. The younger boy's gaze traveled slowly over Percy's body, taking in every muscle displayed by the tight training suit. "You're wearing the same outfit as yesterday," Nico observed, a slight smile playing at the corners of his mouth. Percy shrugged, striking a casual pose that emphasized the width of his shoulders. "It worked really well. Why change what's working, right?" Nico nodded, his eyes never leaving Percy's body. "It definitely works," he agreed. "You look even better today, if that's possible. Your muscles seem more defined." Pride swelled in Percy's chest at the compliment. "Thanks. I feel stronger too, somehow. Like my muscles are really reaching their peak potential." "What's your training plan for today?" Nico asked, standing and moving closer to Percy, close enough that Percy could feel the strange energy radiating from the smaller boy. "I'm thinking pure strength training this morning," Percy replied, flexing his arm to make his bicep stand out. "Less cardio, more weights. Really push these muscles to their limit." "Sounds perfect," Nico said, his voice dropping slightly. "Everyone will be impressed." Percy grinned, the thought of admiring glances from his fellow campers filling him with anticipation. "Let's grab breakfast," he suggested. "I need fuel for what I've got planned." As they walked to the dining pavilion, Percy was acutely aware of the stares following him. His unwashed training suit emitted a strong, musky scent of masculine exertion, but rather than repelling people, it seemed to draw them in. Campers turned to watch as he passed, their eyes lingering on his muscular form. "Everyone's looking at you," Nico observed, walking beside Percy with a new confidence in his step. Percy nodded, his chest swelling with pride. "Let them look," he said, deliberately flexing his muscles as he walked. "This is what a hero looks like." At breakfast, Percy loaded his plate with protein—eggs, bacon, and several pieces of toast slathered with peanut butter. He ate with single-minded focus, aware that he would need every calorie for the intense workout he had planned. "You're really fueling up," Nico commented, picking at his own much smaller breakfast. "Building muscle requires protein," Percy explained between bites. "Can't get bigger without feeding my body." After breakfast, they headed to the training area. Percy immediately made for the weight section, ignoring the archery range and sword-fighting arena where he would normally begin his day. Today was all about raw, physical power—about pushing his muscles to their absolute limit. Though he planned to incorporate some sword training later—after all, a perfect warrior needed to maintain all his skills. As Percy began his warm-up, he noticed something odd. While his muscles felt strong and responsive, there was a strange emptiness inside him, as if something fundamental was missing. He pushed the thought aside, focusing instead on the weights in front of him. Starting with dumbbells, Percy began with bicep curls, lifting weights that would have been impossible for even the strongest campers. His muscles burned with the effort, but he pushed through the pain, completing rep after rep. "Twenty," he counted out loud, lowering the weights and immediately flexing to admire the pump in his biceps. "Look at that definition," he said to Nico, who stood nearby, watching intently. "Impressive," Nico agreed, his dark eyes gleaming with an emotion Percy couldn't quite identify. "Try the bench press next?" Percy nodded, moving to the bench and loading the bar with more weight than he'd ever attempted before. As he positioned himself beneath it, several campers gathered around, drawn by the spectacle of the camp's strongest hero attempting a personal record. "You sure about that much weight, Percy?" asked a son of Ares, eyeing the loaded bar with respect. "Absolutely," Percy replied, gripping the bar with confidence. "Spot me, will you?" As he lowered the bar to his chest, Percy felt his pectoral muscles strain under the weight. A sharp twinge of pain shot through his nipples as the bar pressed against his chest, but he gritted his teeth and pushed upward, forcing the weight back to its starting position. "One," he gasped, lowering the bar again. By the time he reached ten repetitions, sweat was pouring down Percy's face and body, soaking through the already damp training suit. The fabric clung to him like a second skin, outlining every straining muscle. Despite the effort, Percy felt a surge of satisfaction as he racked the bar and sat up, immediately flexing his chest to feel the burn. "That was incredible," said one of the watching campers, a girl from the Aphrodite cabin who had never shown much interest in training before. She moved closer to Percy, seemingly drawn by some invisible force. "Your muscles are amazing." Percy grinned, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. "Thanks," he said, deliberately tensing his abs as he stood, gratified by the girl's widening eyes as she watched the movement. Throughout the morning, Percy moved from exercise to exercise, focusing exclusively on building and showcasing his muscles. He noticed that while his strength remained impressive, his endurance was lacking. Activities that would normally have been easy left him winded, forcing him to take longer breaks between sets. But what was most strange was the way others reacted to him. In the past, campers had admired Percy for his heroic deeds and leadership. Today, it was purely physical—they were drawn to his muscular body, to the powerful aura of masculinity that seemed to emanate from him. Even those who had known him for years approached him differently, their eyes lingering on his straining muscles, their nostrils flaring subtly as they caught the strong scent of his sweat-soaked body. "It's like they're all in a trance," Percy murmured to Nico as they moved toward the outdoor pull-up bar. Nico nodded, a small smile playing at his lips. "They can't help themselves," he said. "You're like a magnet today. It's your physical presence—it's overwhelming." Percy considered this as he positioned himself beneath the bar, his muscles were stronger than ever. As he pulled his chin over the bar again and again, Percy focused on the burn in his lats and biceps, on the admiring gasps from onlookers as his muscles strained against the tight fabric of his training suit. "Thirty," he gasped, dropping from the bar and immediately striking a pose that displayed his pumped lats and arms. "Personal best." Annabeth appeared at his side, her expression a mixture of admiration and concern. "Percy, you're pushing yourself too hard," she said, placing a hand on his sweat-soaked arm. "And why are you wearing the same clothes as yesterday? You smell like... like..." "Like a man?" Percy suggested with a grin, flexing his bicep under her touch. Annabeth's eyes widened slightly, her cheeks flushing. Despite her obvious concern, Percy noticed her gaze lingering on his muscular form, drawn like everyone else to his physical presence. "Like someone who needs a shower," she finished, but there was a hesitation in her voice that betrayed her attraction. "Seriously, Percy, what's going on with you? You're acting strange." Percy shrugged, the movement emphasizing the breadth of his shoulders. "Just focused on training," he said. "Building my strength. Is that so strange?" "It is when you ignore everything else," Annabeth replied. "Chiron was looking for you—there's a strategy meeting about the upcoming game. You were supposed to be there an hour ago." Percy frowned, suddenly remembering the meeting. In his focus on showcasing his physical prowess, he had completely forgotten his responsibilities as a cabin leader. "I'll catch up with him later," Percy said dismissively. "This is important too. A hero needs to be strong." Annabeth studied his face, her gray eyes troubled. "A hero needs to be more than just strong, Percy. They need wisdom, courage, leadership—" "I have all those things," Percy interrupted, irritation flaring. "But right now, I'm focusing on this." He gestured to his muscular body. "Is that a problem?" Nico stepped between them, his dark eyes gleaming with that strange new confidence. "Percy's just taking a day to focus on physical training," he said smoothly. "Nothing wrong with that, right, Annabeth? Besides, we're planning a sparring session later. To keep his combat skills sharp." Percy shot Nico a happy look—he hadn't mentioned sparring—but the idea appealed to him. A chance to showcase not just his muscles but his fighting prowess as well. Annabeth looked from Nico to Percy, her expression unreadable. "I guess not," she said finally. "Just... don't forget who you are, Percy. Your strength comes from more than just muscles." As she walked away, Percy felt a momentary pang of guilt, quickly replaced by a surge of pride as he caught his reflection in a nearby shield. His muscles were pumped to their maximum, veins standing out on his arms and shoulders, his chest straining against the tight fabric of his training suit. "She doesn't understand," he muttered, flexing again to admire the definition in his bicep. "Don't worry about it," Nico said, his voice soothing. "She'll appreciate it when she sees the results. Let's move on to the next exercise." By mid-afternoon, Percy had pushed his muscles through countless brutal exercises. His body was pumped to its maximum, every muscle fiber screaming with fatigue. He wiped sweat from his brow, considering whether to end his training for the day when Nico approached, two training swords in hand. "Ready for that sparring session?" Nico asked, a gleam in his dark eyes. "You promised to show everyone how a real warrior fights." Percy hadn't remembered making such a promise, but the opportunity to display his combat skills was too tempting to pass up. Despite the deep fatigue in his muscles, he nodded, taking the offered sword. "Perfect timing," he announced loudly enough for nearby campers to hear. "Let me show you all how sword fighting is really done." As Percy took his position in the center of the training arena, a crowd began to gather. Everyone wanted to see Camp Half-Blood's greatest hero in action, especially against Nico di Angelo, known more for being a pathetic fighter. Percy twirled his blade with expert precision, his movements fluid despite his exhaustion. Across from him, Nico stood in a basic defensive stance, his thin arms looking even more frail holding the training sword while touching some of the fountain water with his feet. "Don't worry," Percy called out to the audience, "I'll go easy on him." A ripple of laughter went through the crowd. Everyone knew the outcome already—Percy Jackson, the perfect warrior, against Nico di Angelo, possibly the weakest demigod at camp. Percy lunged forward with his first strike, a textbook offensive move that should have disarmed Nico immediately. To his surprise, Nico sidestepped with unexpected agility, the blade missing him entirely. Percy's momentum carried him forward, his fatigued legs stumbling slightly before he regained his balance. "Lucky dodge," Percy muttered, circling back. But as the match continued, something strange became apparent. While Percy's technique was flawless, his body wasn't responding as it should. His reactions were sluggish, his strikes lacking their usual power. His muscles, overtaxed from hours of intense training, trembled with each movement. Nico, on the other hand, moved with startling energy. Though his form wasn't perfect and his skinny arms lacked any visible muscle, he seemed to anticipate Percy's every move, dodging and parrying with an ease that confounded everyone watching. After five minutes of increasingly desperate attacks, Percy felt his strength waning dramatically. His godly powers, which normally provided him with nearly limitless endurance, were mysteriously absent. Sweat poured down his face, his breath coming in ragged gasps. With a final desperate lunge, Percy extended too far. Nico easily sidestepped, tapping Percy's sword hand with the flat of his blade. The training sword clattered to the ground, and in one swift movement, Nico's blade was at Percy's throat. Silence fell over the arena. Percy Jackson, the camp's perfect hero, had been defeated by Nico di Angelo, the weakest demigod among them. "He... he beat Percy," someone whispered, the words igniting a wave of shocked murmurs throughout the crowd. "That's impossible." "Percy never loses a sword fight." "How did the scrawny kid win?" Percy stood frozen, humiliation washing over him as he stared at the blade at his throat. His perfect image—shattered in front of everyone. His face flushed crimson, eyes darting around to see the disbelief on every face. Nico lowered his sword, noticing Percy's embarrassment. "Hey, it's just because you're exhausted," he said loudly enough for others to hear. "You've been training all day—pushing those impressive muscles to their limit. Anyone would be worn out." The explanation seemed to satisfy some of the onlookers, who nodded in understanding. Yet the damage to Percy's reputation had been done. As the crowd dispersed, still buzzing with excited chatter about the unexpected outcome, Percy stood rooted to the spot, conflicting emotions battling within him. The humiliation of defeat burned hot in his chest, yet alongside it was something unexpected—a newfound respect for Nico, who had proven himself capable despite his weak physique. "How did you do that?" Percy asked quietly as they collected the training equipment. Nico shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. "Just got lucky, I guess. You were tired and you have been a great teacher." Percy studied the younger boy, seeing him in a slightly different light. Though Nico's body remained as physically unimpressive as ever, there was something compelling about how he had moved during their match—an efficiency of movement, a surprising grace that Percy hadn't noticed before. By late afternoon, Percy was thoroughly exhausted but strangely exhilarated, his body pumped to its maximum potential, every muscle group standing out in sharp definition despite his defeat in the sparring match. As the sun began to set, Percy and Nico made their way back to the Poseidon cabin. Percy's legs felt like lead, his muscles trembling with fatigue, but he held his head high, aware of the admiring glances that followed him across the camp. Inside the cabin, Percy collapsed onto his bed, his body aching with the sweet pain of extreme exertion. "I've never pushed myself that hard before," he said, his voice hoarse with exhaustion. Nico sat beside him, his dark eyes moving appreciatively over Percy's body. "It shows," he said with his hypnotic mind powered by Percy's stolen energy. "Your muscles look incredible. May I?" Without waiting for a response, Nico placed his hands on Percy's chest, his fingers pressing into the firm muscle. Percy winced slightly at the touch—his pectorals were tender, his nipples sensitive to the point of pain—but he didn't pull away. "So strong," Nico murmured, his hands moving to Percy's shoulders, then down to his biceps. "The strongest demigod ever, even if I got lucky in our match today." Pride swelled in Percy's chest at the words, mixed with a new feeling of respect for the younger demigod. Despite his embarrassment at losing the sparring match, Percy found himself strangely drawn to Nico's unexpected abilities. "You think so?" he asked, flexing under Nico's touch. "You beat me today. Maybe you're stronger than you look." "I know so," Nico replied, his voice taking on a strange, hypnotic quality. "No one comes close to your physical perfection. Even if your energy seems... depleted today." Percy felt his eyelids growing heavy, a pleasant warmth spreading through his tired body. The defeat in the training arena flashed through his mind, stirring conflicted feelings of admiration for Nico mixed with his wounded pride. Nico's voice seemed to come from far away, yet each word penetrated deep into his consciousness. "You're tired, Percy," Nico continued, his hands still moving over Percy's muscles. "So tired after pushing yourself today. Exhausted from all that training, from our sparring match. Your mind is relaxing, letting go of all resistance. You can feel yourself slipping into a peaceful trance, where you'll answer all my questions honestly." Percy nodded slowly, his eyes closing completely. "Yes," he murmured, "I'll answer honestly." Nico's hands stilled on Percy's chest. "Percy," he said, his voice clear and commanding, "what do you think of my body? My physique? Tell me honestly." Percy's face contorted slightly, as if fighting against the words, but the hypnotic compulsion was too strong. "Weak," he said, the word slipping out before he could stop it. "You're weak, Nico. Pathetic. No muscle definition at all." He paused, confusion flitting across his face. A flash of hurt crossed Nico's face at the initial assessment, quickly replaced by a calculating smile at Percy's confusion. "Go on," he commanded. "Tell me more about how you see me physically." Percy's hand reached out, grabbing Nico's thin arm. "Look at this," he said, his voice cruel despite the trance-like state. "No bicep at all. Just bone and skin." His fingers encircled Nico's upper arm completely, emphasizing its thinness. Moving his hand to his own arm, Percy flexed, making his bicep bulge impressively. "This is what a real arm looks like," he said. "Hard. Powerful. Yours is like a twig that could snap at any moment." Nico's eyes narrowed, but he didn't interrupt. "What about my chest?" he asked, placing a hand on his own flat chest. Percy snorted derisively. "What chest? You don't have pecs, Nico. You have nothing." He cupped his own pectoral muscles, which strained against the tight fabric of his training suit. "These are pecs. Slabs of muscle. Power. You're flat as a board." With each word, Nico's expression darkened, a mixture of hurt and growing anger flashing in his eyes. But he pushed on, forcing Percy to continue the cruel assessment. "And my legs?" he asked, gesturing to his thin limbs. Percy shook his head, a look of contempt crossing his handsome face. "Pathetic. Like sticks. No quad development, no hamstrings, nothing." He slapped his own thigh, the muscle hard and unyielding under his hand. "These are legs that can carry a hero into battle. Yours would collapse under real weight." Nico stood, pulling off his shirt to reveal his thin, pale torso. "And this?" he asked, gesturing to his body. "My overall physique?" Percy looked Nico up and down, his blue eyes cold despite his entranced state. "Weak," he repeated. "Pathetic. You'll never be strong, Nico. Never be muscular. Your body is a joke compared to a real hero's body." Percy stood too, towering over the smaller boy. He stripped off his own sweat-soaked training suit top, revealing his magnificent torso—broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist, every muscle group perfectly defined, his skin glowing with vitality despite his exhaustion. "This is strength," Percy said, turning slowly to display his physique from every angle. "This is power. This is what a hero looks like." He paused, confusion again crossing his features. "Even if you... you beat me today. The weakest demigod defeating the strongest. You are still pathetic, weak..." He touched each muscle group as he named it, contrasting it with Nico's thin frame. "My deltoids, built like boulders. Yours, nonexistent. My pecs, like armor plating. Yours, concave. My abs, a wall of muscle. Yours, just ribs and skin. And yet... something about you is different. You have something I don't right now." Nico stood still, absorbing every word, his face a mask of controlled rage. But beneath the anger, there was something else—a cold calculation, a sense of anticipation, as if each cruel word was another step toward some predetermined goal. "So you think I'm weak?" Nico asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "Pathetic? A joke?" "Yes," Percy confirmed, still trapped in the hypnotic trance that forced complete honesty. "You're the weakest demigod I've ever seen. Not a hero's body at all. Just a pathetic, skinny weakling." He swallowed hard, his brow furrowing. Percy's eyes traveled over Nico's thin frame again, and he said. "You're the weakest demigod I've ever seen. Not a hero's body at all. Just a pathetic, skinny weakling who will never know what it's like to be strong."