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You do not understand. The voice of a goddess spoke, voice cold and firm. You will pay now and forever.
He's been having these dreams for so long, now. He's growing more used to it, but the sudden, boiling agony that struck through Daedalus caught him off guard.
He only had time to watch the old inventor crumble to the floor before he was overcome by it, feeling the searing pain wrap around his neck like a collar.
He could hardly breathe around it, each breath sent shocks sparking across his skin, deep through his muscle, pressing into his throat. The dream was fading at the edges, curling like smoke was obscuring his vision.
And then he shot up, the leather couch squeaking beneath the force of his movement. He wrapped his hand around his throat, choking on the lack of air. The pain was fading still, like molten metal was still pouring down his throat.
He coughed, leaning over the side of the couch like he expected to throw up. His stomach rolled with the pain, his eyes burning with unshed tears. He heard the shuffle of movement in the same room, "Percy?" Grover's meak voice called from his own sofa, "Are you okay?"
He steadied his breathing. How does he answer that? Nobody truly knows about the dreams he's been having, or the effects. He can't tell Grover that he watched Daedalus' past in his dreams, that he woke up in the same pain as the inventor.
He coughs again, and the feeling finally fades entirely. His next breath is clear and full, "What... what time is it?" He croaked.