# Chapter 15: The Final Surrender Percy awoke to the first rays of dawn filtering through the cabin windows. His consciousness returned gradually, like waves lapping gently against the shore. Something felt wrong—deeply, fundamentally wrong. The warmth surrounding him wasn't a blanket but arms—unfamiliar arms, thick and heavy, wrapped around his torso. He shifted slightly, instantly noting how restrictive the embrace felt. These weren't the arms he remembered. These were powerful, muscular limbs holding him in place with an effortless strength he couldn't recall Nico possessing. Percy's eyes fluttered open, confusion clouding his mind. His body felt strange, lighter somehow, yet paradoxically heavier to move. He tried to lift his arm to rub his eyes, but the limb that responded to his command was unfamiliar—thin and weak, with no trace of the muscular definition he was accustomed to. "What the..." Percy whispered, his voice sounding higher, weaker than usual. Carefully, so as not to wake the sleeping form beside him, Percy extracted himself from Nico's embrace. The effort required was shocking—he had to struggle against arms that should have given way easily to his superior strength. Instead, they felt like iron bands around his frame. Percy sat up in the bed, a wave of dizziness washing over him. When it passed, he looked down at himself, and the sight that greeted him sent a jolt of terror through his body. His chest—once broad and powerful, with well-defined pectoral muscles—was now sunken and bony. His arms, previously thick with muscle earned through years of combat training, were now thin sticks that looked like they would struggle to lift a sword, let alone wield one effectively. His stomach, once rippled with abdominal muscles, was flat but soft, with no definition whatsoever. "No," Percy gasped, his hands frantically exploring his transformed body. "This isn't possible." He threw back the covers, exposing his lower half. His legs, once powerful and capable of propelling him through battles with godlike speed and agility, were now pathetically thin, the muscles completely gone. Only his boxer briefs remained as he remembered them, still stretched over what felt like his normal equipment—a bizarre contrast to the rest of his diminished form. Heart racing, Percy turned his attention to the sleeping figure beside him. Nico had shifted when Percy moved, and now lay on his back, the sheets pulled down to his waist. What Percy saw made his blood run cold. Nico's body had transformed as dramatically as Percy's had, but in the opposite direction. Where once had been a skinny, unremarkable boy, now lay a figure of impressive musculature. Broad shoulders tapered to a narrow waist, powerful arms rested at his sides, and a perfectly defined chest rose and fell with each breath. It was as if Nico had somehow stolen Percy's physique overnight. "This has to be a dream," Percy muttered, pinching his thin arm. The pain was sharp and real. "Or a curse. Some kind of magic..." Determined to assess the full extent of the transformation, Percy tried to stand. His legs trembled beneath him as he put weight on them, muscles unused to supporting even his now-diminished mass. He took one tentative step away from the bed and immediately collapsed, his legs buckling like a newborn fawn's. The noise of his fall—a pathetic thud followed by a pained groan—was enough to rouse Nico from his slumber. "Percy?" Nico's voice was deeper than before, resonating with a new confidence. "What are you doing on the floor?" Percy looked up from his position on the hardwood, humiliation burning through him as he struggled to rise. His arms, once capable of lifting enormous weights, now shook with the effort of pushing his body from the floor. "What did you do to me?" Percy demanded, his voice lacking the authoritative edge it once carried. "What happened to my body?" Nico sat up in bed, the sheets falling away to reveal his newly muscular torso in full. He looked down at himself with an expression of practiced surprise, as if seeing his transformed body for the first time. "What?" Nico exclaimed, flexing his new muscles with what seemed like genuine shock. "My body... and yours..." Internally, Nico was exulting in the success of his plan. The mighty Percy Jackson—hero of Olympus, slayer of monsters, savior of the gods—now lay helpless on the floor, unable even to stand on his own two feet. It was a delicious reversal, more satisfying than even his wildest dreams had promised. "Help me up," Percy demanded, though it sounded more like a plea. Nico rose from the bed, savoring the feeling of strength coursing through his new body. He approached Percy with measured steps, aware of how his powerful frame now towered over the fallen hero. With deliberate gentleness that barely hinted at his new strength, Nico lifted Percy from the floor as easily as one might pick up a child. "What's happening to us?" Nico asked, his voice laced with feigned concern as he set Percy on the edge of the bed. "This isn't normal." Percy's hands moved frantically over his transformed body, as if hoping to find his lost muscles hiding somewhere beneath his skin. "This is some kind of curse. It has to be. Did you—" He paused, looking at Nico with sudden suspicion. "Did you do this?" Nico had prepared for this moment, rehearsing his story in his mind throughout the night while Percy slept. He sat beside Percy, making sure to leave enough space between them to appear non-threatening while also demonstrating his new physical dominance. "I think I know what this is," Nico said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Last night, I had a dream... a vision from my father, he has finally claimed me, it's Hades." Percy's eyes widened. "Hades? What does he have to do with this?" "Everything," Nico replied, infusing his voice with manufactured gravity. "He came to me in a dream and told me he was... testing us." "Testing?" Percy repeated, disbelief evident in his tone. "By switching our bodies?" "Not switching," Nico corrected. "Transferring. Your strength to me. My weakness to you. He said it was a test of trust between demigods. To see if we could overcome our physical differences and work together." Percy's brow furrowed, his beautiful face—the only part of him that remained unchanged—contorting in confusion. "Why would Hades care about that?" Nico's mind worked quickly, weaving his lie with enough truth to make it plausible. "Because of the prophecy, Percy. The one about the children of the Big Three. My father believes that the tensions between our godly parents have infected us, their children. He thinks we need to learn to trust each other completely if we're going to face whatever's coming." Percy seemed to consider this, his eyes moving from his weakened body to Nico's strengthened one. There was still suspicion in his gaze, but also a growing desperation. "If this is a test," Percy said slowly, "then there must be a way to reverse it. To get our real bodies back." "Yes," Nico replied, leaning forward slightly. "My father mentioned that. He said the transfer can be reversed, but only if we prove our trust in each other is absolute." "How?" Here was the critical moment—the trap Nico had so carefully constructed. He lowered his eyes, as if embarrassed by what he was about to suggest. "By offering the most intimate part of ourselves willingly," Nico said softly. "The part that he hasn't stolen." Percy's face flushed, understanding dawning in his eyes. "You mean..." "Yes," Nico confirmed, gesturing vaguely toward their lower halves. "The test isn't complete. I have your strength, your muscles, but you still have your... manhood. The final transfer can only happen willingly." "That's ridiculous," Percy protested, though his voice lacked conviction. "Why would your father demand something like that?" "Gods aren't known for their conventional thinking, Percy," Nico replied with a shrug of his new, powerful shoulders. "Besides, it's not just about the physical act. It's about trust. About surrendering something precious willingly, knowing it will be returned." Percy's eyes narrowed, doubt still evident in his expression. "And if I refuse?" Nico had anticipated this resistance. He gestured to Percy's weakened body. "Then you stay like this. Weak. Powerless. Unable to fulfill your duties as a hero. Unable to protect Camp Half-Blood. Unable to face anything, a mockery of your true self." The implications hung heavy in the air between them. Percy looked down at his frail arms, his skinny legs, his sunken chest. He was the son of Poseidon, a hero meant for great things. How could he fulfill his destiny in this pathetic body? "There has to be another way," Percy insisted, desperation creeping into his voice. "We should consult Chiron, or—" "My father was clear," Nico interrupted. "This is between us. If we involve others, the test fails, and the transfer becomes permanent." Percy fell silent, clearly weighing his limited options. Nico watched him, savoring the internal struggle playing out on the hero's handsome face. The once-mighty Percy Jackson, reduced to bargaining for the return of his own strength. "How do I know I can trust you?" Percy finally asked, his voice small. "How do I know Hades will bring everything back once I've... given myself to you?" Nico adopted his most sincere expression, leaning forward to place a hand on Percy's bony shoulder. "Because it's a god test, I swear that once you've fulfilled your part, I will do everything in my power to restore what was taken." The oath was carefully worded—a promise to try, not necessarily to succeed. But it sounded impressive, binding, and Percy seemed to take comfort in it, his shoulders relaxing slightly beneath Nico's touch. "Okay," Percy said after a long moment, his voice barely audible. "What do I need to do?" Triumph surged through Nico, but he kept his expression solemn. "It's simple. You just need to offer yourself to me—willingly and completely—and allow the transfer to happen naturally." "And then we'll both be back to normal?" Percy asked, a desperate hope in his eyes. "That's what my father promised," Nico replied, the lie coming easily to his lips. Percy nodded slowly, resignation settling over his features. "Let's get this over with, then." Nico's heart raced with anticipation. After all the nights of planning, of gradual manipulation, of careful positioning, the final piece was about to fall into place. Percy Jackson—the object of his obsession, the hero who had looked down on him, who could never love someone like him—was about to surrender the last vestige of his heroic identity. "Lie back," Nico instructed, his voice gentle but commanding. Percy hesitated only briefly before complying, his weakened body seeming small against the expanse of the bed. Nico positioned himself beside Percy, looking down at the hero's beautiful face—still perfect despite the diminished body beneath it. "Just relax," Nico said, his hand moving to the waistband of Percy's boxer briefs. "The more willing you are, the easier this will be." Percy swallowed hard, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. "Just promise me it'll work." "It will," Nico assured him, slowly pulling down the boxer briefs to reveal Percy's impressive manhood—the last part of him that remained heroically proportioned. "Trust me." The contrast was striking—this magnificent organ rising proudly from a body that had been reduced to pitiful weakness. It was like a monument to what Percy had once been, the last bastion of his former glory. Nico moved to position himself between Percy's thin legs, his hands gently spreading the hero's thighs. Percy's face was flushed with embarrassment, his eyes still averted, unable to watch what was about to happen. "This might feel strange," Nico warned, lowering his head toward Percy's exposed member. "But try to let it happen naturally." With that, Nico took Percy into his mouth, initiating the final transfer. The sensation was unlike anything he had experienced before. As his lips wrapped around Percy's shaft, Nico could feel the divine essence within it—warm, powerful, ancient. This was the core of Percy's demigod nature, the direct connection to his godly father, Poseidon. And now, it was about to become his. Percy gasped at the contact, his back arching slightly off the bed. "It feels... different," he murmured, surprise evident in his voice. "Not like..." Whatever comparison Percy had been about to make was lost as Nico began to work in earnest, his mouth moving rhythmically over Percy's length. This wasn't about pleasure—though Percy's body responded naturally to the stimulation. This was about transfer, about taking what remained of Percy's divine power. As Nico continued, he became aware of a tingling sensation in his own groin. His manhood, small and ungrown as always, began to grow further—not dramatically, but noticeably. At the same time, he could feel Percy's beginning to shrink within his mouth, becoming slightly smaller with each passing moment. Percy must have felt it too, because his hands suddenly clutched at the bedsheets, his breathing becoming more rapid. "What's happening?" he asked, panic edging into his voice. "It feels like... like something's being pulled out of me." Nico released Percy's member briefly, looking up at the hero's frightened face. "It's the transfer," he explained, his voice husky with desire and triumph. "Just let it happen, Percy. Trust the process." Before Percy could protest further, Nico returned to his task, taking the now slightly diminished organ back into his mouth. The transfer was accelerating now, the divine essence flowing from Percy to Nico at an increasing rate. Another change was occurring simultaneously—one that affected them both on a level beyond the physical. Percy's scent was transforming, the powerful, masculine aroma that had always surrounded him beginning to fade. In its place came something sweeter, more submissive—an omega fragrance that signaled vulnerability and subservience. At the same time, Nico's own scent was becoming stronger, more dominant, more alpha—a powerful musk that spoke of strength and authority. Percy writhed on the bed, seemingly caught between pleasure and panic. "Nico, I don't think—" he began, but his words dissolved into a moan as his body responded to the stimulation despite his concerns. The process continued, relentless and irreversible. Percy's once-mighty manhood continued to shrink within Nico's mouth, while Nico's own grew proportionally. The pheromonal changes intensified as well, Percy's masculine scent weakening further as Nico's strengthened. "Something's wrong," Percy gasped, his hands now moving to Nico's head, weakly attempting to push him away. "This doesn't feel right. We should stop—" But it was too late. Percy's divine essence had been unlocked, and now it flowed freely from him to Nico. The transfer couldn't be halted midway—it would continue until completion, until the last of Percy's godly core had been stolen. Suddenly, Percy's body tensed, his back arching sharply off the bed. "Oh gods," he cried out, his voice higher than before, almost feminine in its pitch. "I'm—I'm—" His words cut off as an orgasm ripped through him—but unlike any he had experienced before. This wasn't a brief moment of pleasure followed by release. This was sustained, overwhelming, almost painful in its intensity. Percy's entire body shuddered, his toes curling, his fingers digging into the bedsheets. Nico felt the first pulse of Percy's essence flood his mouth—warm, salty, but infused with something else, something powerful and ancient. As he swallowed, he could feel the divine power entering him, strengthening him, changing him from within. And still, Percy's orgasm continued—five, ten, fifteen seconds. His diminished body writhed on the bed, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes as wave after wave of pleasure-pain coursed through him. With each pulse, his manhood shrunk further in Nico's mouth, and Nico's own grew in response. Thirty seconds passed, then a full minute. Percy's cries had transformed from pleasure to something closer to begging, his hands weakly pushing at Nico's shoulders. "Please," he gasped between pulses. "Too much... can't... take it..." But Nico didn't relent. He continued to draw out Percy's essence, feeling the power flowing into him with each swallow. Two minutes passed, then three, and still Percy's orgasm continued—unnatural, sustained by the divine transfer taking place. At four minutes, Percy's voice had grown so weak he could barely make a sound, his body limp except for the occasional spasm. His manhood had shrunk dramatically, now barely filling Nico's mouth. Finally, as the fifth minute drew to a close, the pulses began to slow, then stop. Percy lay motionless on the bed, his chest rising and falling rapidly, tears streaking his still-beautiful face. Nico released what remained of Percy's manhood from his mouth, looking down to see the final result of the transfer. Where once had stood an impressive, heroically proportioned organ—a fitting complement to Percy's formerly powerful physique—now there was only a tiny nub, barely an inch long. It looked absurd on Percy's frame, despite his diminished state—like a baby's organ attached to a teenager's body. Conversely, Nico could feel the changes to his own equipment without needing to look. While not as dramatic as the transformation Percy had undergone, he was now noticeably larger, his manhood having absorbed what had been taken from Percy. But the physical changes were only part of the transformation. The pheromonal shift had completed as well. Percy now exuded the scent of submission, of vulnerability—an omega fragrance that would signal to anyone that he was meant to be dominated, protected, controlled. And Nico's own scent had become powerfully alpha—commanding, authoritative, dominant. Percy's divine essence had been completely transferred. The son of Poseidon was no more. In his place lay a beautiful but pathetically weak mortal boy with no connection to the godly world that had defined his existence. "What...?" Percy whispered, his voice barely audible, broken by exhaustion and shock as he stared down at his transformed body. "What happened to me?" Nico looked down at the fallen hero, at the beautiful face that was now attached to a body that was the very definition of weakness, at the tiny nub that had replaced his once-impressive manhood. This was Percy Jackson—or what remained of him. The legendary hero reduced to a pathetic shell.