For fuck's sake, why did I ever want to be a Half-Blood?

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/24349783.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

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Category: Gen
Fandoms: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, Percy Jackson and the
Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, The Heroes of
Olympus - Rick Riordan, RIORDAN Rick - Works, The Demigod
Diaries - Rick Riordan
Relationships: Percy Jackson & Sally Jackson, Percy Jackson & Poseidon, Luke
Castellan & Percy Jackson, Annabeth Chase & Percy Jackson
Characters: Percy Jackson, Poseidon (Percy Jackson), Sally Jackson (Percy Jackson),
Grover Underwood, Annabeth Chase (Percy Jackson), Luke Castellan,
Chiron (Percy Jackson), Original Female Character(s), Original Female
Character(s) of Color
Additional Tags: Self-Insert, Female Percy Jackson, Latino Percy Jackson, POC Percy
Jackson, Latina Sally Jackson, Autistic Percy Jackson, alternative
universe, Time Travel, Memes, vine references, tiktok references, Fix-It
of Sorts, Racism, Swearing, Fluff, Child Abuse, Reincarnation, Rebirth,
Smart Percy Jackson, BAMF Percy Jackson, MC is so tired, and she is
ready to fight everyone, MC would look Hera in the eyes and call her a
bitch, then immediately act innocent, Self-Indulgent, Author Projecting
onto OC, The Author Regrets Nothing, Portuguese, Brazilian Original
Character, Autistic Original Character, Latino Character, Not a Mary
Sue, The Author(s) Regret Nothing, Clean up the environment, Percy
will have water shrapnel grenades, Just not yet, AU-female!Percy,
technically, kinda mature themes here and there, Panic Attacks, Post-
Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, that sort of stuff, trigger warnings at
the start of each chapter, Platonic Soulmates, Canon Era, Book 1: The
Lightning Thief (Percy Jackson), Morally Grey Percy Jackson, Moral
Ambiguity, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Underage Drinking,
This story has a sequel!
Language: English
Series: Part 2 of Who the fuck thought making me a Half-blood was a good
idea?
Collections: Long Fics to Binge, Modern Character in Fictional World - Unfinished
Works, Reincarnation and Transmigration, Not to be misplaced, perseus
jackson, I Read This Instead of Sleeping, Lady's collection of PERFECT
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Stats: Published: 2020-05-24 Completed: 2020-08-19 Words: 91,162 Chapters:
31/31
 For fuck's sake, why did I ever want to be a Half-Blood?
by IzzyMRDB, RavenCarver

Summary

When I got reborn, I was out of fucks to give. Puberty? Boyfriends before college? Passing
maths and preventing Kronos from rising at the same gods-damn time? Well. I guess it can’t
get-

Wait. This isn’t canon.

Why is everything off script? DOES THIS MEAN I CAN DO WHAT I WANT?

Notes
See the end of the work for notes
 Fuck, Fuck, and Double Fuck.
Chapter Summary

I died, woke up, and after some time realize hell is real. Fuck.

Look, I didn’t want to be a half-blood.

Well, I did, but that was a long time ago. A long time ago, in a different life, under a different
name, with a different face. Now? Now I wish I hadn’t read so many gods-damned Mary Sue
‘Percy’s twin sister’ fanfics when I was eleven. Hindsight’s a raging bitch, but she’s not as
big of a bitch as the Fates. Now that I think about it, I can actually punch the Fates in this
lifetime… Wait, no, I’m not an idiot. Anyways.

I really didn’t want to be a half-blood. When I imagined seeing the Rick Riordan Universe I
imagined being in it at a safe distance, like as an oracle or participating in a brief, childless,
godly fling; not running from monsters because they want to eat my sweet, sweet demigod
body. What was it that the musical said? “So if you think you are a half-blood, better get
headed to the exits now, ‘cause folks will think you’re lying, better run and don’t start crying,
‘cause you’re monster chow.” What a fun rhyme to capture my current existence.

My name is Persephone “Percy” Ophelia Jackson. My name should have been Perseus
“Percy” Achilles Jackson, but I guess I messed that up. I messed a lot of things up, actually,
since they were different from what I remember. Kinda. Things were different even before I
got here. Such as being Latina; Percy was described as being tan but never actually of color,
and the fact that Smelly Gabe was physically abusive? Heavily implied but not fun to find out
as the truth.

Turns out no matter what universe I’m in I’ll still be an immigrant. Second-gen, this time,
and both times I went from Brazil to America. My new mother’s name is Sabelle “Sally”
Rosa Marie Silvia-Jackson, but she dropped Silvia from my name to help me pass as white.
The fact that she felt the need to do this didn’t even draw a blink from me. What can I say? I
had lived during one Donald Trump’s presidency, so I know how bad racism can be against
Latino immigrants. She’s just trying to protect me as a mother, and was willing to erase my
identity to do so. I can’t fault her for that. Not after my death.

Oh, it wasn’t due to racism, although I’m certain that it had a hand in it. There was a mass
shooting at my (mostly african-american) university. There I was, a free 20 year-old that was
living by myself and beholden to nothing except my student loans, ready to fight God, until I
walked into the wrong class and found myself unwilling to fight my anxiety to leave and go
to the class that I was supposed to be at. The shooter came in, guns blazing. Ophelia Marie
Eduarda de Lopez died from blood loss, a bullet in her chest, alone and scared inside the only
classroom the shooter managed to get to.
It sucked. 0/100, wouldn’t recommend.

And then I woke up, 28 years before in 1992, in my new teenage mother’s arms.

Fuck.

I’m not exactly proud to say my first reaction was denial. It was hard to tell that I had been
reborn into my favourite fictional world anyway since I couldn’t exactly gather information
as an infant. The first few months were hell on earth; I was weak. I was helpless. I couldn’t
do anything, much less run away. After that shooting? Not being able to run away became the
subject of my nightmares for a good long while.

If I wasn’t trying to stay awake, I was rationalizing. Everyone’s names were a coincidence,
the missing father was a coincidence, the house address was a coincidence, nothing wasn’t a
coincidence. Even when my mother kept whispering promises to protect me from the
monsters after another night of crying, I still thought it was my stupid ADHD autistic brain
making connections. That is, until my first birthday.

My first birthday started normally. Mãe went to work and left me with the elderly neighbour
who babysat me. She invited some old friends and neighbours over in the afternoon and I had
my first taste of sweets from a Cinderella-shaped carrot cake; I kept smiling after that. Then
night came, and it was off to bed for tired one-year-old me.

It was just after midnight when I woke up. The moon was quite high in the sky from what I
could see from my window, and there was a stranger inside my room. The man that I was
convinced was about to kill or kidnap me was tall, about 6’2”, with messy black hair, green
eyes, and he was wearing… a hawaiian shirt? He was half-hidden in the shadows and was
staring at me with an intensity that felt like he was looking straight into my soul. For some
reason, I couldn’t bring myself to scream and warn my mother of an intruder.

I was paralyzed. Helpless. Alone.

The man walked up to me so he was peering down into my crib. There was a tender softness
in his eyes so strongly present that it startled me; no stranger should be looking at me that
way. He spoke softly, “Hello, little one. I am your father.”

My father? The man who had been absent my whole relatively short new life? Impossible.
This delusional weirdo who climbed in the window is going to have to take his Darth Vader
impression somewhere else, thank you very much.

Then, he picked me up. There are no words to describe how that felt. He was warm, safe, and
strong. I knew that he would do his best to protect me. He smelt like the ocean breeze and felt
like love.

He smiled sadly down at me. “Your life will be hard my son. Be strong like the tide and you
may survive this yet.”

Hold up, ‘son’? It’s one thing to climb in through my window and claim to be my father, but
to misgender me? Hell no.
I wail, loud as I can, and as a very quiet baby I know that Mãe will come running. My
‘father’ doesn’t panic or try to quickly jump out of the window with me. He simply stands
there, bouncing me, trying to soothe me.

Mãe soon appears in the doorway, eyes wild and a knife in hand. “Ophelia! Put my daughter
down you-!” She cuts herself off when she gets a good look at the man holding me.
“Poseidon?”

Oh. Oh fuck. Oh shit fuckery!

“It’s nice to see you too, Sally,” Poseidon says wryly, a spark of humor in his eye.

Cue my slight meltdown as I finally put all the clues together like the idiot I am.

“A daughter? Impossible, I’ve never had a demi-god daughter before” My godly father turns
back to me, adoration on his face despite the words.

Never had a demi-god daughter? My mind, desperate for something to latch onto, went into
overdrive. How has he never had a daughter before? He’s five thousand years old! In fact,
this tidbit sounds an awful lot like those badly written fanfictions I’ve known, the ones where
they add this fact to make their Mary Sue more ‘unique’ and more of Poseidon’s little
princess. Nope, no way was I gonna let my life get turned into a twelve year-old’s first fanfic.
I swear for God's sake! Or is it ‘gods’ now?

“Papa!” I squeal. Ah-ha! Emotional manipulation, take that!

My mother gasps and takes me from his arms, “Who's my clever girl?” She peppers me with
kisses. “Bet you were just waiting for your Pai for you to say that, weren’t you?”

Fuck. Not my desired outcome.

“Was that her first word?” My father was beaming, quite literally glowing with pride and joy.
“That’s my princess!”

Double fuck. Why me?

My parents spend most of the night talking, mostly about me, speaking with soft tones. I drift
in and out from sleep in my father’s arms. I felt safe. This was all bullshit, but I felt safe. I
had a mother who loved me, and a godly father who cared enough to visit. That’s better than
a lot of other scenarios, especially when factoring in this weird not-exactly-canon-universe I
ended up in.

Still. When I’m older, I’m definitely going to whoop Pai’s ass for making Mãe a mother at
18. Ya’ hear that, Poseidon!
 I fuck up my demon pre-algebra teacher but good
Chapter Summary

Canon hits, but I like to think I hit back harder. Demon maths teacher? Pffff, she stands
no chance.

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

This is my second time saying this, but let me remind you; I didn’t want to be a half-blood.

Life as Canon Jackson? Non-existent. Butterflies of doom? Most definitely. My life as

Ophelia Jackson? Eh, could be worse.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m still a troubled kid, but I’m also an adult in the body of a child. I
skipped most grades in Elementary school and only spent two years total with a bunch of
sticky-fingered kids in Elementary. After that, they stopped letting me skip grades because
Mãe was worried over my socialisation with other kids my age. I still got kicked out from my
two previous schools because I got ‘excessively bullied,’ or so the principal of one school’s
excuse was, even though I never complained and because I 'accidentally’ fell into a shark
tank during a visit to the aquarium. He and I were both fully aware that it wasn’t an accident,
but I didn’t like that he called me out on it.

I mean, rude. I just wanted to get gossip. A bit of blackmail too, no need let loose the dogs of
war over it!

I got a small bit of silver-lining regarding my innate ADHD. Everything had been diagnosed
and filed by age six. On top of that on my list of ‘shit I wish I didn’t have to deal with,’ was
autism and mild dyslexia. Considering that I only got formally acknowledged with autism
when I was seventeen in my past life (after the worst of my struggles were over), I’ll take
what I can get.

Right now, I’m sitting on a tacky yellow school bus heading to the Metropolitan Museum of
Art with a bunch of Yancy Academy kids. Grover sat next to me as we dealt with the
ridiculous amount of noise inside the bus.

‘The volume inside this bus is ASTRONOMICAL,’ I thought, almost snorting aloud at the
reference of the future meme.

Grover Underwood and I were the only ‘advanced’ kids on the bus. A 12-year-old and a '14-
year-old’ on a bus full of seventeen to eighteen-year-old seniors. For mortals, it must’ve
made a weirder sight than your friendly neighbourhood cyclopes.
Yeah, I’m milking my future knowledge for all its worth. Tell me you wouldn’t be bored to
hell and back if you were in my shoes. I dare you.

Looking around the bus, bits of nostalgia welled up inside. For me at their age, it was a
widely different time. They were all millennials and I was a Gen Z, but I don’t really have a
leg to stand on considering I’m currently twelve in 2005. For all my horror, there were
similarities everywhere. Teens feeling invincible and filled with rage? Check. I mean, at least
I was. Silver lining? There wasn’t any dabbing because it hasn’t been invented yet. Oh gods,
the dabbing.

Thwack!

Glaring down at the offending handball, I scanned the bus to see who threw it. Michael
Delling, seventeen years old, high on popularity and a dickball of epic proportions; Called me
a ret*rd once because I couldn’t understand his sarcasm. He was making this ‘throw it at me!’
motion that completely failed to hide his smug face. I’m petty as fuck, so I looked him right
in the eye, threw it to the other end of the bus and flipped him the bird. The bus driver
grunted, but I was already turning back to my book which had been forgotten on my lap.

Ophelia Jackson; 19. Dickballs; -1.

Apparently, the book was just going to have to remain forgotten since Grover started talking.
“What cool things do you think we’ll see?”

I shrugged. “Personally, I’m interested in all the Pottery. They can tell you many fascinating
things about the culture and day-to-day life through the art on the pottery shards, but I’m also
really excited about the statues! Did you know that they can now tell what colour they were
painted? That’s amazing, and so many people think that they didn’t even paint their statues!
As if they would go through so much trouble carving so life-like marble and then just leave it
blank!” Instantly I was all cheers and smiles. Sue me, I like mythology! That it could save
my life one day was just a bonus.

Grover weakly smiled back at me. I know that he wasn’t as interested in archaeology and
classical history as I am since his whole reality is mythology come to life, but him trying to
understand me and putting up with my info-dumping? We’re buddies for a reason, otherwise
satyr or not, we wouldn’t even talk.

Mr. Brunner, or Chiron the old-as-balls centaur, led the museum tour. Guess some things will
always remain the same.

I would love to say that I was paying attention and that it was fascinating and everything, but
let’s face it, I got bored at the simplistic explanations and wandered off. The other teens were
goofing off anyway so it’s not like I was missing anything.

It took two hours for the group to realise I disappeared and to find me. By then I had gone
through a lovely tour of the Egyptian section, courtesy of Professor Kane and his son, Carter.
They eventually found me talking amicably to the museum curator about a pottery shard
depicting Bacchian Dionysus despite being dated from a heavily Orphisit era and location,
which suggested that it had been taken there. Except, the clay it had been made of was from
that specific region. We were both pretty confused on that one. I call metaphysical bullshit,
personally.

For those who are confused, think of it as finding something depicting Jesus Christ in the
middle of ancient Rome before Jesus was born. Weird, illogical, and perfect evidence that
some god definitely screwed up.

“Percy Jackson! There you are, we were worried about you.”

Chiron and his wheelchair made their appearance, interrupting my first conversation in long
while with someone who didn’t treat me like an immature brat. Needless to say, I was
irritated. It must have shown on my face since a second later he was pulling me away and
apologizing to the curator for me ‘bothering him.’

Fuck you, horse-man, I was actually learning something from someone who didn’t dumb
things down. I get it, I’m a potential freak of nature you need to keep an eye on, but as
everybody says at least once; you’re not the boss of me, horse-man.

The temptation to run off again grew by the second, but I stimmed with a slinky and ignored
Chiron’s blank stare of mild disapproval. I didn’t zone out again, but it was a close thing.

Eventually we got to The Stele from canon where Mr Brunner does his whole ‘staring sadly
like he’d been at this girl’s funeral’ thing. For all I know, he actually might have been. He had
been talking about some interesting things regarding Greek funeral art and the markings on
the side of the stele before, unfortunately (but not unsurprisingly), Micheal shoves me from
behind and I yelp as I almost fall over. Grover caught me. Good G-man.

“Miss Jackson, did you have a comment?” Wow, freaky, just like in the book. Also,
seriously? He didn’t see me get shoved?

“No, sir,” I denied.

He pointed at one of the images on the stele, “Perhaps you’ll tell us what this carving
represents?”

Dammit, do we really have to follow canon? “It’s Kronos eating his children, sir.”

“Yes,” Chiron said, obviously not satisfied. “And he did this because…”

“Well, when Kronos overthrew his father, Ouronus, he got told a prophecy that one day his
own kids would overthrow him like he did to his father which is actually a motif in the
Hellenic pantheon-” Grover elbowed me to stop the info-dumping tangent. “-and so when his
children are born he devours them, all except Zeus who his mother, Rhea, managed to hide.
When Zeus grows up, he forces his father to vomit up his siblings before starting the Titan-
Olympian war in which they win.” I smile at him. Ha! That’ll show you I’m not Percy
‘Seaweed Brain’ Jackson.

Julia mutters something off to the side to her friends that I, naturally, have to pay for. “And,
to paraphrase Miss Tana’s excellent question; Why does this matter in real life?” Fucking hell
Horse-man, I don’t wanna follow canon! It’s a matter of principle dammit!

I narrow my eyes at him. No idea what he was thinking, but I ain’t fucking this up like Canon
Jackson. “It matters because like all culture-wide well-known stories, they have a moral or
lesson in them. Here, the story is that history repeats itself and that prophecies can often be
self-fulfilling, like say, the legends of Oedipus or Perseus. If their parents hadn't tried to kill
them as a child, said parents wouldn’t have been killed by their own children when they grew
up. Karma at its finest. Also, if you want to work in or study Classics related things this is
kinda something you should know.”

Chiron stares at me in surprise. I smirk. Wasn’t what you were expecting, was it? I’m no little
morally correct princess of light, I prefer logic and common sense; don’t mistreat your kids
and they won’t kill you. Simple. Effective. Proven hundreds of times over every day, even. I
don’t believe Kronos is ‘pure evil’ either. As far as I can tell, he just made some really shitty
decisions in regards to solidifying his rule. This doesn’t mean that I’m going to support him
like a dumbass though. Gramps is still an asshole and I ain’t helping him do jack.

Chiron took a moment to compose himself, “Well, yes. Full credit. Zeus snuck into his
father’s halls as a servant and tricked him into regurgitating his siblings using a mixture of
mustard seeds and wine. On that happy note, lunch!”

As everyone started filing out of the museum, I couldn't help but wonder how the fuck Zeus
gave Kronos wine. Didn’t Dionysus invent wine? The fuck kinda timey-wimey bullshit did
Zeus do to get wine before the guy who invented wine was even born?

Ignoring the rest of the teens goofing about and going to sit by the fountain, I pull out my
lunch. Grover sat down next to me and pulled out his apple and PB&J.

I ate my jam sandwich in silence, watching the surroundings from my perch. Mrs Dodds is
trying to shake off Carly Gibbs who was crying about Micheal who apparently ruined her
hair. Mr Brunner was peacefully drinking coffee (where did he get that? I want some!) while
reading Wuthering Heights. I could spot Fred trying to become something out of Assassins
Creed from the way he was trying to climb the museum walls.

All in all, normal behaviour all around. Then Julia decided to fuck with me, because of
course she did.

She tries to loom over me, blocking out the sun. All that did was give me a close-up of her
pug face. “May I help you?”

“‘May I help you?’” she mocked with a high voice. “Yeah, move out of my way, stupid chit.”

I roll my eyes at her. “Out of your way? You wanna climb in the fountain? Go away, Julia.”

She seethed, “I wanna sit here now. Move you stupid dog!”

She tried to push me, and in a split-second I made the water of the fountain move and grab
her, pulling her in so she was sitting, soaked, in the fountain basin. Karma’s a bitch, bitch.
Yeah, I used my powers. As if I wouldn’t learn how to use my fucking superpowers as soon
as I figured out I had them!

To train, I regularly went out on weekends to the Hudson and practised my powers by helping
clean it. Two birds with one stone; power training and environmental cleanup! Green Peace
would love me. At first, the river god of the Hudson didn’t really like me encroaching on his
territory and kept muttering about annoying half-bloods (I’m pretty sure he didn’t smite me
because he feared Pai, and that… was actually kind sad), but after a few months of clean up
he eventually warmed up to the nice, helpful half-blood who cleaned his river and didn’t ask
for anything in return. On the rare days he was in a good mood (I could never figure it out.
Does he spontaneously win lotto every other month?) he even starts up a conversation while I
clean. It was mostly complaining about pollution, but to be fair I complained right along with
him.

What? The more clean water the less icky everything is when I’m finished. Water-
purification is hard.

Mrs. Dodds, the substitute pre-algebra math teacher from hell, quite literally materialised in
front of me. The Mist and the human power of rationalization were scary stuff. By the looks
of it, she had finally shaken off Carly and had come to deal with her target. Me.

I wondered if there’s a monster court or something where I can take her to court for unlawful
interrogation of a minor. Wait, aren’t trials held by having people be innocent until proven
guilty like in the whole story of the Oresteia that was between Athena, Apollo, Orestes and
The Furies, right? Oh shoot she’s talking-

“-ome with me. We need to have a chat.”

Wow, can’t she be a bit more dramatic? Where’s the evil flair, the long monologue, the
dramatic speeches? What a boring demon math teacher.

Grover, bless his satyr-soul, tried to step in, “Wait, I pushed her!”

Ms Demon just glared at him. “Now, Miss Jackson.”

“Thanks man,” I told him before turning back to the monster, “Sure, let’s just tell Mr Brunner
where we’re going first so he knows that he’s gotta watch the group by himself.”

Mrs Dodds sharpened her glare at me for putting logic in her plan to get me alone. Ha!
There’s no way I’m going anywhere with a Kindly One without someone else knowing. Mãe
taught me about Stranger Danger, thanks.

“I’m sure he can manage, and Miss Tana here can go tell him when she asks him for a towel.
Let’s go,” she ordered curtly.

Bitch. She practically teleports up the stairs while I have to jog up them with my non-existent
godly teleportation powers. There’s being a Monster, then there’s being a monster. Truly, fuck
monsters.
Not to say I wasn’t fit, but still. She’s practically dragging me at this point, even when I yell,
“Let me go, I can walk! My legs work just fine even if my sense of decision making is
broken!” So now I have to just deal with being dragged around the museum. By a Fury. Who
thinks I stole her master’s symbol of power. I’m gonna get fucking bruises, ouch.

Eventually we reach an empty room that may have been undergoing repairs or something. It's
only filled with some scaffolding and a sphinx half-covered by some tarp. Mrs Dodds all but
shoves me inside before closing the door after us. I get the nasty feeling that if she could have
locked it, she would’ve.

Before she could even open her mouth to ‘now honey’ me, I cut her off. “Was that really
necessary? I can walk y’know. Just because I’m autistic doesn’t mean I can’t just follow you
from behind. And don’t shove me, that can be classified as physical assault and abuse of a
minor in a court of law. Do you really wanna get fired?”

Ah fuck. Probably shouldn’t have opened my big mouth and annoyed her. If her previous
level of hatred was ‘I can and will gut you,’ the current look includes ‘into chunky salsa’ in
the description somewhere. “Now honey, I’ll give you just one chance. Confess.”

“You saw me push Julia into the fountain. I did it. Are you happy now? I’ll even apologise to
her.”

“Confess, Persephone Jackson, or suffer the consequences.” Oooh, she’s snarling now.

“Ma’am, you’re going to have to be more specific. I just told you I pushed her in, or are you
coming at me for some other perceived slight? Because if you are, I have no idea what it is.”

She’s full-on growling, an inhuman sound that rakes my half-human ears. I can see where the
Mist has stopped working; shadows of claws are appearing on her hands. “Where is it?” she
shrieks.

“I don’t know!” is all I got out before Alecto lunges at me, fully transforming back into her
Fury form, shedding the human guise in a way that almost makes me sick. I jump to the side,
away from her talons, and start running to the exit. Absolutely no way I’m sticking around,
thank you very much. Fuck this shit.

She dives at me again as I near the door and I have to swerve and back up. She’s got me
fucking cornered. Where the fuck is Chiron? She’s blocking the only exit and I’m
weaponless. Fuck, this was a terrible day to wear a skirt. Where’s the nearest water source? I
try to reach for the plumbing to stop her from fucking killing me but Chiron turns up at the
last second.

“What Ho, Percy!” He tosses me Riptide.

Unable to resist, I scream out, “This is a pen! How the fu-” before I uncap said pen which
turns into a sword.

I turn around, sword at the ready. By the time she finishes throwing herself at me with a “Die,
honey!” I’m already swinging. Clean as water, the blade bisects her, reducing her to golden
 dust.

The room is empty again. There’s no more monster, just me and the pen I’m holding.

Ugh, gross. The books really didn’t mention how monster dust gets fucking everywhere.
After trying - and failing - to get it all off of my shoes, I tuck Riptide the pen into my bralette.
Ain’t no way I’m handing this back to Chiron, it’ll be really useful against the minotaur later.

Walking out of the museum entrance, I spot Chiron and Grover waiting for me by the
fountain. The latter was biting his nails in worry. As I beeline towards them, Julia steps in my
way.

“I hope Ms Kerr whooped your ass,” she snarled, still dripping wet from the fountain.

I shove her aside. “Yeah, yeah, I got detention tomorrow, piss off.” I stalked off, ignoring the
way she bristled in indignation.

As I strode up to the half-human and half-barnyard animal duo, I could see Grover visibly
relax when he saw that I was completely fine. Probably sensed my emotional state too.
Chiron rolls his wheelchair closer to me.

“Miss Jackson, I hope next time you bring your own writing utensil.” He holds his hand out
as if I would just hand Riptide back to him. Fuck no.

“Uh, sir, what writing utensil?” I gave him my best innocent confused look. I practised in the
mirror, it better damn well work! “I just came back from Ms Kerr giving me detention, you
didn’t give me anything.”

Aw yeah, ‘Now I’ve thrown him off his rhythm’ as the great Detective JJ Bittenbinder would
say. I cackle madly inside my head. Chiron and Grover are obviously confused but Chiron
recovers almost annoyingly quickly. “Ah yes, I’m sorry, I must have misremembered.”
Grover still looks confused. I felt bad for the G-man, so I threw him a bone.

“C’mon, Grover, I wanna show you this cool pamphlet on roman bridge building I found
inside.” I smile at Chiron while I drag Grover away. All this smiling’s making my cheeks
hurt.

It turns into a smirk. I’m glad Grover was busy trying to keep his shoes on, because this one
was all teeth.

Bring it on, world, I’m motherfucking ready!

Chapter End Notes

Raven; So Izzy, shameless friend that she is, spat out this 3,297-word chapter in less
than 24 hours and made me go over it in 3. I reckon this is the most productive I’ve ever
been when it comes to fanfiction writing and isn’t that just sad? *pouts*

Izzy; Hey y’all, I wrote this within 24 hours because I was excited to get this story going
since I saw all the positive reviews the introduction got, though I may have accidentally
annoyed Raven into being very productive in a short amount of time. Oops.

Raven; Yea, it cut into my fanfiction reading time!

Izzy; Oh shush, you agreed to do this with me and you know exactly how annoying and
excitable I can be with a new project.

Raven; But FANFICTION.

 Honestly, fuck school and bless the fucking Fates.
Chapter Summary

To holidays, panic attacks, and the Fates! Actually, don’t toast the second one. The
second one sucks.

Chapter Notes

Trigger Warning for Panic Attacks and Child Abuse in this chapter

See the end of the chapter for more notes

The rest of the school year went ahead with only minor hitches. I only say minor because I
didn’t discover anything that might lead to the end of life as we know it.

The weather was getting progressively worse, but that was expected when the gods were five
seconds away from starting World War 3. As a god, missing symbols of power were as
embarrassing as it can get. Hell, I doubt getting caught cheating on your husband by said
husband wasn’t even as embarrassing as that. Even so, in the face of the plight of gods, us
mortals could only tremble.

A ridiculous amount of hurricanes battered the coast every day, and I almost prayed to Pai to
tone it down already because this was getting stupid and people were getting hurt, on the
hour, pretty much every hour. But I didn’t do that; it would mean admitting that I knew more
than I let on.

Instead, I quite pointedly helped with the ‘Hurricane Relief’ campaigns and charities which
popped up around the school. It may have been my imagination, but I think the hurricanes
actually lowered in intensity.

The weather was affecting my mood, but honestly, I’m a bitch anyway so it’s not like it made
much of a difference. There was one instance in which it really did not help, though.

One afternoon, some boys messed up when trying to microwave something by including the
tinfoil. Stuff caught on fire and alarms started blaring. That wouldn’t have been so bad,
except the noise wailed in my ears, ripped open my thoughts, poured fuel on my nightmares
and clogged everything with panic. Not lockdown, anything but lock-

“Get out!” someone yelled, their terror evident. “Move it!”

“Get out!” Gunshots that were louder than fireworks on the Fourth of July. Screaming,
crying, death-rattles everywhere. A whirl of movement, but I didn’t care. I didn’t care at all
because I wanted to get out. I needed to get out. I need to get out now, now, now now now
now now now-

Blooming pain spread across my chest-

Red stained the floor and the carpet and-

The ceiling was blurry. The world was blurry why was the world blurry-

Tears. Wet. Not as wet as blood. More screaming. Then-

“Percy. Percy! Come one Percy we gotta go, the fire’s spread-ea-ea-ding.”

Was that bleating? What’s a goat doing here? And I’m moving. I’m not supposed to be
moving I was shot and there was more blood outside my body than in-

“Persephone?”

I can’t breathe!

“PERSEPHONE-! SOMEONE CALL THE AMBULANCE!”

The world went black.

I was out cold, dead to the world, up long delirious blue, whatever you want to call it. Panic
attacks are Not Fun. Yeah, it deserves its own capital letters. I woke up later with a breathing
device on my face, an IV in my arm, and my mother crying from a pretty uncomfortable
looking hospital chair. I flinch internally at what is probably going to rack up as an enormous
hospital bill for, in my mind, something that could easily have been avoided. Damn, there
goes my plan to not visit the therapist again.

“Ophelia!” Mãe sobbed into my neck, “I got the call and they said you passed out during a
fire and-” Her voice broke and I couldn’t hide my wince. I never meant to worry her! “-
smoke inhalation!” she finished.

“Estou bem Mãe. Eu tive um ataque de pânico, por favor, não se preocupe,” I tried in
Portuguese. (I’m fine mom. I had a panic attack, please, don’t worry.)

My attempts didn’t help at all. “Um ataque de pânico! Você me disse que não pega mais!
Você mentiu?” she wailed. (A panic attack! You told me you don’t get them anymore! You
lied?)

“Não, não! I didn’t lie, the fire-alarm caused me to relapse. I’m fine, I’m doing better. I’m
sorry for worrying you.”

She must’ve seen the hurt and panic on my face because she just drew me into a hug and
made me promise to never scare her like that again.
Pai would be here if he could. Probably. As it stood, the room smelled suspiciously of the sea.

After the hospital stint, I stayed home with Mãe and Smelly Gabe (I swear if I didn’t know
about Medusa’s head I would’ve murdered him the messy way by now!) for a whole two
weeks. It was fucking torture. I mean, I love Mãe with all my heart, Pai too, but Smelly Gabe
was born from the fucking fields of punishment. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he had
crawled out of Tartarus!

In those two weeks, I got yelled at for the most inane reasons ever ranging from ‘not
breathing quietly enough’ to ‘disrupting my poker game.’ I got a bruise from being pushed
because I couldn’t grab his beer fast enough and locked in my room with no food for an
entire day while Mãe was working. To pass the time, and make everything easier, I ‘spoke’ to
Pai.

Telling him about my day, what I’m feeling, why I’m upset; all under the guise of ‘Mãe said
you're dead but if I speak maybe your spirit can hear’. It’s something I’ve been doing since I
was little, hoping the prayers-not-prayers could reach him, and maybe, just maybe, one day
he’ll reply. It’s not breaking any of the bullshit ‘no interference’ laws and I hope that when he
hears me, he smiles. It’s got to be a break from ocean politics at least.

Going back to school after that was awful.

I came back to school about a month before finals, and I put all my focus into my classes.
Fuck paying any attention to the mythological world, I need to pass my exams and get into
college! Also, fuck Algebra. Just… Fuck Algebra.

There were no secret conversations between Grover and Chiron to overhear because I wasn’t
there to overhear them. Instead, I was paying full attention to my studying. Besides, I knew
exactly what they were going to say and what they’re actually talking about. Future
knowledge; saves you time investigating so you can focus on what’s more important-
schoolwork.

Unfortunately, due to my PTSD being thrust into the open at school (my bet’s on Julia),
everyone kept looking at me. Rumour-filled whispers followed my every step and the
bullying got worse. If it wasn’t for the fact that I had to finish Senior year to go to college, I
would’ve dropped out or transferred by now. By sheer force of will and a petty spitefulness
which I wore like my own personal crown, I got to the end-of-year exams alive.

“Hey, Panic-Percy, you gonna start crying again? Bet ya gonna ditch exams for another crazy
session, cry-baby.” Fucking Micheal. The bane of my Yancy Schooling existence was at it yet
again.

“Piss off Michael, our Latin exam is in 10 minutes. Why don’t you go cram for no reason
since we all know you’re going to fail anyway,” I bit out, keeping my eyes firmly on my
revision notes.

“Go away, Mr Brunner is coming to get us anytime now” Damn it G-man, thank you for
trying but you’ve only made it worse.
“Ha!” Micheal crows, “Your wittle kiss-up boyfriend trying to pwotect you? Pathetic.” I grit
my teeth. Grover shouldn’t have to deal with my bullies, he’s just a kid, I’m the adult who
can take care of herself.

Before I can verbally shred him, Mr Brunner appears to allow us in for our exam. It is just me
or do all mythological figures have this weird sense of timing?

The whole thing was four hours of fucking hell. Even with my leg up from studying Classics
and Latin in university in my past life, it wasn’t exactly a walk in the park. All the
misspellings and grammar and straight-up words I wrote down swirled in my brain that
decided to act more like a washing machine, giving me a headache. In in the, I shouldered
past Chiron even when he called for me to stay back; I need to fucking sleep, and I’m getting
it no matter what.

Luckily, my intense studying for my exams paid off. When I got my report card back about a
week before the summer break, it looked a little like this:

English~ A-
Maths~ B
History~ B+
Latin~ A+
Biology~ A-

I was a bit disappointed at my History grade, but considering most of the test was on the Cold
War and I kept dissing the American Leaders in her essay, it was expected. Like, why does
nobody appreciate some good-old-fashioned communism in this capitalist country?

I got to go see Mãe and go to Montauk during the holidays, which was both a break from
everything and a glimpse of something less dull and more exciting. I knew it would only be
for one night before I had to go to Camp Half-Blood, but still. I like my life better like this.

On the last day of school, G-man helped me carry my luggage down the stairs to the foyer
where we’ll wait for the bus.

Carly, probably one of the nicest of my classmates and head girl, beckoned me over so I
could join her in conversation.

“So what’re you gonna be doing this summer, Percy? My parents are taking me to Mexico!”
She smiled sweetly.

I fiddled with my too-big sweater. Stupid Gabe. “My mother and I might be going to the
beach. I’ll mostly just be writing or studying.” Even though I didn’t care about a lot of things
and I swore at my teachers, I did care about the image I presented to my classmates. It’s
probably a stupid thing to fuss over about, but at this point, it’s a bit on an ingrained habit.

She smiled politely at me, almost as if she actually cared, before continuing the conversation
with her friends while occasionally drawing me back to the conversation for my opinion on a
topic.
Grover, or my personal stalker-on-goat-legs in this situation, was taking the same bus as me
home. This would usually not be weird but I live in a, uh, poorer neighbourhood, that’s
mostly Jewish and Latino, so Grover, in his current, more expensive clothing, would stick out
like a sore thumb.

Don’t call him out on it, Ophelia. No matter how tempting it is, don’t call him out on it!

The bus ride home was quiet, surprisingly. I silently read my copy of ‘A Clash of Kings’
while Grover kept looking around frantically as if to spot a monster chasing the bus. So
paranoid. It’s only going to be the Fates stopping the bus to cut a life string in my face, no
biggie.

Not looking up from my book I grunted, “Stop swivelling in your seat, please. You’re
distracting me.” See? I can be polite and say please sometimes. I just can’t be fucking
bothered to do it.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

He didn’t stop fidgeting. I sighed in defeat and turned back to my book. When are the Fates
gonna appear? I was getting impatient, and watching Grover jump at the shadows was way
past entertaining and straight into the territory of second-hand embarrassment.

Thankfully, my prayers (begging) are answered and the bus suddenly stops. A smell of rotten
eggs almost overwhelms me and I start coughing in response. There’s smoke coming from
under the bus. Well, that can’t be good.

“Everybody out!” the driver yells.

Grover quickly grabs me and starts to lead me out of the bus, “Come on Persephone.” He
spoke gently, if not firmly. I think he’s a bit traumatised from my panic attack earlier in the
year from the way he keeps an eye on me while we evacuate. I don’t call him out on it.

I inhale the air as soon as we’re outside. Fresh air! Sweet, sweet, fresh air! The smell inside
the bus was fucking horrendous. It smelt worse than home-cooked microwave food by
drunken high college kids, and that’s saying quite a lot. Grover quickly herds me away from
the bus and fusses over me like a nanny goat. Heh. Get it?

“I’m fine, thank you Grover,” I finally say.

His smile is shaky, “Anytime, I’m here to protect you.”

A pang of sadness grows in my chest. He’s so young, all of these demigods are so young, yet
already so ready to die. I know what it feels like to die; ‘be selfish, don’t die for me,’ I
wanted to scream. Instead, I hug him.

Over his shoulder, I spot them. The Fates.

Three elderly women sitting in a fruit stand, knitting a huge pair of socks with electric blue
wool. Why the fuck are they knitting Luke’s life string into socks for Godzilla? Shit, Luke. I
see one of them stop knitting to look around for some shears and I tear myself away from
Grover’s arms to sprint across the highway towards them. I might not want to be a half-
blood, I might want to ignore all of this and stay at home, but I want to help save lives. And
Luke? I’m going to save him, starting with stopping the Moirai from cutting his string.

Ignoring Grover calling after me, I came to a stop in front of the fruit stall. The Moirai stared
right at me. They had thankfully stopped knitting and reaching for the shears, but they were
now looking at me with a hair-raising intensity. Oh shit, I haven’t thought this far.

“Uh, hi? Nice fruit.” Congrats Ophelia, your brain cell is lonely. Why don’t you put it out of
its misery too?

The Moirai stared at me before the left-most one opened her mouth. “Thank you, young half-
blood.”

Huh, maybe I'm not so shit at this. “Why are you knitting a life string into giant socks?” Wait,
no. I’m an actual dumbass.

“We’ve lived long and lives go in many different ways. We like doing new knitting patterns.”

“Reasonable,” I concur, “What’s your favourite knitting pattern?”

I’m talking to the Fates about knitting patterns and they are actually responding. Fuck me
gently with a chainsaw, the world’s turned upside down. Actually, don’t do that, that’s gross.

“The happy ones.” The Fates… actually looked sad, almost as if they were ashamed or guilty.

I looked at the life string in their hands, “Then why are you going to cut this string so short?”

They looked at me with some sort of pity. “There are powers even beyond us Fates, my dear.
We’ve already knitted this string; if it goes on any longer there will be no happy endings, it’s
best to cut it now.”

I bit my lip, “Can you unravel it?”

They stared at me.

“Please, I can change things, I know I can! Just let me try! Knit a new pattern and it won’t be
so short!” I plead.

They stopped and looked at each other. I watched as the Moirai in the middle grabbed the
string and tugged. It unravelled.

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. Okay. Now for the price to pay.

“Perhaps, we will try a new pattern,” one of them conceded. “But do not expect this to
change the prophecy. That one is already fate. That string’s been cut.”

“Your string? This string? Only intertwined can a new pattern be made, only then can there
be happiness for both. Do you accept?” They fixed their eyes upon me, and for a moment I
 saw a stream of… Something. Something vast, something uncertain, but that something was
very, very real.

I wanted it.

But first, clarification. “Intertwined? Like…?” I trailed off, looking at them meaningfully.

“Soulmates. Not romantically, my dear, but platonically. Do you accept?” they repeated.

“I accept.”

The Moirai nod in unison. Taking out a new string, this one sea green, the middle fate starts
twisting it with the electric blue one. The left-most Moirai handed me an apple. “Remember
child, this is no guarantee. Fate, Fortune and Free-Will braid themselves freely in the tapestry
of Chaos. We are only part of it, able to influence and see. You, yourself, are needed to make
it true.”

Taking the apple and cradling it to my chest, I curtsy. “I will do what I can to make it true.
Thank you, my Ladies.”

They gazed at me, straight into my soul, with an intensity that both chilled me and set me on
fire. Then, in a blink of an eye, they were gone.

… Fuck!

My knees buckled. Somehow, Grover appeared to catch me before I fell. I could hear his
bleating voice frantically calling out my name. Oh, fucking fuck. Shit shit fuckery shit. I just
fucking did that. I just fucking negotiated with the Fates to save a life. And it motherfucking
worked!

Well, kinda. Nothing’s truly set in stone, but hell, I’ve been given a chance by the Fates
themselves!

I’m laughing hysterically and probably freaking the shit outta Grover, but I don’t care. I
didn’t care about a whole lot, at that moment. I’m pretty sure I could live on this high for
months if life would let me.

Faintly registering Grover leading me back to the bus, I see him staring at me like he’s
wondering what flowers I'd like for my funeral. Telling the bus driver I got panic attacks and
the bus’ breakdown must’ve triggered it, he gently sat me back down on the seats.

‘Thanks, G-man,’ is the last, hazy thought I had before falling asleep. Passing out from what
is probably slight hyperventilation and stress from talking to the Fates? I can legitimately say
that that’s just another Tuesday now. As for the butterflies that I just set loose…

Whatever. Fuck yeah, I’ve totally got this!

Chapter End Notes

Hey guys,
Izzy here, Raven doesn't have an Author's note for y'all today so it's just me.
Thank you so much for all the positive feedback you've given us! It means so much to
us and motivates us like hell to get the next chapter out for you sooner!
This chapter felt like forever for me to finish writing but luckily Raven had some free
time this morning so she edited this early!

We explored a bit more of Ophelia's character and the shitty trauma she got from dying
and being reborn. We show a bit more of Ophelia's relationships with Sally, Poseidon
and Grover and how she actually cares a lot for them, even if she doesn't show it like an
actual 12 year-old would.

If you guys get in some comments on suggestions on what you want to see or tropes you
like within the next four-ish hours, me and Raven can make some notes on that in our
plot outline in tonight's writing collab session!

Thanks for reading!

Izzy & Raven <3
 Maybe I shouldn't have ditched Grover
Chapter Summary

The ball’s rolling, and you know what they say; It’s “the calm before the storm,” except
reality’s being more literal than I like. Seriously, what’s up with the weather and
dramatic moments?

Chapter Notes

Trigger Warning: Child Abuse mention

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Grover woke me up when we got to the bus terminal. “This is it, yeah?” I said groggily.
“Thanks, G-man.”

I was planning on getting to Mãe as quickly as humanly possible, but Grover-the-protector

was on duty and he wasn’t taking no for an answer. He insisted on walking me home while
using my panic attacks as an excuse, and when I tried to protest he simply didn’t listen.
Frustrated, I ditched when he went to use the bathroom. Sorry G-man, but I want one last day
with Mãe before I have to give up my normal life.

Flagging down the first taxi I saw was that heading upstate, I grabbed my suitcase and told
the driver, “East One-hundred-and-fourth and First.” He nodded in reply and hit the pedal.

Leaning back in my seat, I sag minutely. Just a few more minutes and I get to have a hug
from Mãe. I put my headphones in. They’re not playing any music, but it muffles the busy
sound of Manhattan. Absent-mindedly I start humming and mumbling, “We’re lost in the
woods, somewhere in New Jersey, and we’re never ever gonna make it to LA. We’re lost, and
it's cold, and it won’t stop raining, Oh no, not that way!”

It’s ridiculous how much of my past life’s music I can remember; watch me remember Doja
Cat’s ‘Say So’ perfectly but not the fact I have homework due tomorrow.

Drifting away from the present into my own little weird thought corner, I longed for my Mãe.
Sally Jackson was an amazing mother, not flawless, but much better than my absentee past
life’s parents who worked more than cared about their children. Mãe works a lot too with two
jobs trying to keep the family afloat, but she still took time to talk to me about my day and
never tried to invalidate my feelings or my mental health issues. She loved me even though I
knew I wasn’t the daughter she deserved, so I loved her with the force of an untamed sea.
Freely, unabashedly, with all my might and then some.

The day that Smelly Gabe told me there was no such thing as blue food is, ironically, one of
my fondest memories. Mãe gave him the classic, “Is that so?” and began making the most
iconic retaliation I’ve ever seen. She’s a powerful woman and absolutely deserves to be a
queen. Actually no, she deserves to be THE Queen. It’s now a common Sunday ritual; Blue
cookies, pink milk, and cuddling while watching family movies. Well, I cuddle. I’m
affectionate, sue me.

I spot a ‘Road Work Ahead’ sign and I can’t stop myself from saying out loud, “Well yeah, I
sure hope it does,” causing the taxi driver to glance back at me. Oops.

We don’t arrive at the apartment soon enough. Walking in, I saw fucking Smelly Gabe sitting
on the living room couch, ESPN on the TV blaring louder than a jet engine while playing
poker with his little buddies. There were chips on the floor, along with three empty beer cans
and a large stain that I’m guessing is from a not-so-empty beer can. Fucking disgusting.

He didn’t even look up from his cards, “So you’re home.”

“Where’s Mãe?”

“Working,” he took a puff of his cigar, “You got any cash?”

Gabriel, or Smelly Gabe, had put on even more weight. I haven’t seen him since my hospital
stint where he complained that I had cost him unnecessary money for my ‘attention-seeking
crying fit.’ I hated spending those two weeks off school with him in the house, he just used
me like a fucking punching bag. At least he never drew blood. If he did that, well, while I
may think that ‘Fuck the Police’ is a good motto in life, dialling 911 would’ve been the least
of what I’d have done.

Back to the present, I merely arched my brow. “No. I paid the taxi in exact change.”

He raised a greasy eyebrow in return, “Exact change? How’d you know how much the taxi
was gonna be? You have cash. If somebody expects to live under this roof, they ought to
carry their own weight. Am I right, Eddie?”

Eddie actually tried to look at me with sympathy, as if I’d buy that. “Come on, Gabe,” he
reasoned, “The kid just got here.” The fucking landlord, Eddie, seemed to think that not
being an asshole to me every once in a while would totally mean that he’s excused for all his
other sins, such as; sexist and racist comments, ignoring his poker buddies sexist and racist
comments, slapping my ass and saying that I’m growing up quick, straight-up ignoring one of
his poker buddies mentioning that he’s fucking a 15 year-old girl, aka fucking paedophilia! I
fucking hate all these bastards who don’t have an innocent bone in their body.

“Am I right?” Gabe just repeated. Eddie crumbled quicker than a house of cards and went
back to his chips.
I grabbed the two dimes in my pocket and dropped them in his hands, “Fine. It’s not like you
can gamble 20 cents away, can you?”

Gabriel yelled at me for that. “And get me another beer, you dumb cunt!” I blindly tossed a
luke-warm one towards his head and practically slammed the door to my bedroom shut. As I
hid in it so that Gabe couldn’t punish me, I knew I’d probably be paying for it later.

Kicking off my shoes, I slump into bed. Coming back home whenever Gabriel was here was
sensory hell for me; the smell, the mess, the loud noises. I hated all of this. Even worse,
Smelly Gabe turned my bedroom into his ‘office’ whenever I was away at school (as if he
even needs one, he barely goes to work) and my usually spotless space was more mess than
room. Urgh, he even stained my white desk.

I loved my room in this life, Mãe let me decorate it completely by myself as long as it wasn’t
against her delicate HGTV loving heart. I had painted the walls blue with several snitches
from Harry Potter painted on it. There were far more glow-in-the-dark stars than most kids
my age had and there was an entire wall dedicated to posters and photographs of the
Parthenon, marble statues, Game of Thrones, Lord of the Rings, and random pieces of poetry.
I actually had a whole bookshelf dedicated to books that I had found in thrift stores, garage
sales, and library sales. My room was mostly whites, golds, greys, light blues and browns so
it gave off a lovely academia vibe.

This place is my room, fuck what Gabe wants.

I curled up under my sheets, burying myself and my worries under the familiar blanket of
home. The apple the Fates gave me was still in my backpack since for some reason the
thought of me eating it didn’t sit right with me. I knew I would have nightmares of that
moment with Alecto for a long time now, but for now, I was safe in my bed, away from
everything and anything.

Then I heard Mãe’s voice, “Ophelia?”

“Aqui, Mãe,” I called, not moving from my blanket burrito. (Here, mom.)

I hear the door creak open and the tell-tale sounds of her taking off her shoes. She climbed
into my bed, which was technically too small for the both of us, and enveloped me in her
warm arms from over the blanket.

“What’s wrong, darling?”

“Too much. Too loud. Too many smells. Just… stay here and talk, please?” I curl even tighter
into my fetal position. I love my mother, but there are some things I knew even she couldn’t
make go away completely.

She hummed, “I’ve got some more free samples from work today, blue jelly beans and
liquorice for dessert. I also have an idea for some home-made marshmallows, y’know, like
we used to make when you were little? I’ve finished reading that book you recommended to
me, you were right I did like Antonia…”
I started to tune her out as I uncurled from my position and just clung to her. Sally Jackson
was the best mother in the world. She’s the one who had the ability to soothe my worries, and
I loved her all the more for it.

“I’ve got a surprise for you.” That jerked me out of my thoughts.

Mãe smiled down at me and ran a hand through my hair. “We’re going to the beach.
Montauk, three nights at the same cabin.” She pressed a kiss to my forehead.

“When?” I asked.

She beamed and drew back so she could stand. “As soon as I get changed.”

Smelly Gabe appeared at the doorway, “Bean dip, Sally. Didn’t you hear me?”

I’m going to fucking punch him and absolutely no one is allowed to complain. Mãe meets my
gaze. I wilt. ‘Play nice until we get out of here’ her brown eyes say. Fine, but next time I see
him face-to-face he’s getting sold to an art museum.

"I was on my way, honey," she told him. "We were just talking about the Montauk trip"

Gabe's eyes narrowed. "The trip? You mean you were serious about that?"

"Damn it," I muttered. "Should’ve known he won't let us go."

"Of course he will," Mãe said evenly. "Your step-father is just worried about money. That's
all. Besides," she added, "Gabriel won't have to settle for bean dip. I'll make him enough
seven-layer dip for the whole weekend. Guacamole. Sour cream. The works."

Gabe softened a bit at that. "So this money for your trip ... it comes out of your clothes
budget, right?"

"Yes, honey." Mãe agreed.

"And you won't take my car anywhere but there and back."

"We'll be very careful."

Gabe scratched his double chin. "Maybe if you hurry with that seven-layer dip ... And maybe
if the chit apologizes for interrupting my poker game."

Maybe if I slit your paedophilic throat and feed you to dogs. Out of the corner of my eye, I
spot it. My window was gathering condensation, more condensation that should be there. Fat
water droplets slowly pooling together at the base of the sill.

Shit. My powers. I push down the anger as I try to calm my emotions. How do the Jedi do it?
Right, release your emotions into the force. Imagine a wave coming and dragging all my
anger away into the untamable ocean. And… calm. The water on the window stills. Thank
the gods.
“I’m sorry I interrupted your oh so very important game. You shouldn’t have to be kept away
from it by us.” I mutter.

He grunts, eyeing me up and down as if to detect some sort of sarcasm, before turning around
and leaving.

“Thank you, Ophelia,” Mãe ruffled my hair, “Once we get to Montauk we can talk more
about how school was, okay?”

I smile as she leaves. No, no we won’t.

We were ready in an hour.

I had repacked my bag; the apple from the Fates, toiletries, money, pictures of Mãe, me, and
one of Pai that I’m technically not supposed to know about, spare clothes and underwear, two
cereal bars, a drink bottle, and my teddy bear, Ursinho. I knew that I needed stuff for camp
and I’m pretty sure that my suitcase won’t ever arrive there, so backpack it is.

Gabe took a break from his poker game long enough to watch me lug my mom's bags to the
car. He kept griping and groaning about losing her cooking, and more importantly, his '78
Camaro-for the whole weekend.

"Not a scratch on this car, brat," he warned me as I loaded the last bag. "Not one little
scratch."

Bitch, I’m twelve. As if I’d drive it. Whatever, it’s probably gonna get blown up anyway.

As he lumbered back into the house, I cast my thoughts back to canon. Didn’t Canon Jackson
do something that made the door hit him in the ass? Urgh, I think it might be something G-
man taught him. I can’t remember it for the life of me, so instead, I turned all the water
molecules under his feet to ice for a second, just long enough for him to slip and fall. Then I
got into the car and told Mãe to step on it.

Suck it, dipshit.

Our rental cabin was on the south shore, way out at the tip of Long Island. It was a tiny pastel
box with tatty curtains and half sunken in the sand. There’s always sand in the sheets, spiders
about to scare me into screaming loud enough to wake Olympus, and most of the time the sea
was too cold for those that are not the daughter of Poseidon to swim in.

I loved it.

Apparently Mãe and Pai had met here, many years ago. “Best summer of her life,” she
claimed, “only beat by the summer you were born.” I’ve been going here every summer of
my life, and Mãe has been here every summer since she was 15. It’s our special place,
touched by only Mãe, Pai and I. Well us, and whoever built the cabin I guess.

-
I dissociated the entire trip to Montauk, but when we got there, Mãe looked like a completely
different person. Her wrinkles were gone, the streak of grey seemed to disappear, and her
eyes had flecks of sea green in them. She was glowing.

It was sunset when we got there. We ate some of the free blue samples she got from work,
walked the length of the beach, and fed blue corn chips to the seagulls. I told Mãe all about
school, a heavily edited version without monsters of course, and told her about my college
applications. She was urging me towards NYU and I agreed; no need for me to be so far
away from home. I vaguely wished to speed up the timeline so I could go to college in New
Rome, but alas, that is not to be. Maybe I can do my masters there?

When it got too dark, we lit the campfire. While roasted hot dogs and marshmallows, I had
attempted to eat an on-fire mellow just because I’m that special kind of dumbass. Didn’t
work. Mãe told me stories about her childhood and the new story idea for a book that she’s
coming up with.

After a while of just sitting in silence, Mãe stopped just silently staring at me and spoke up,
“You look just like your father.”

I stared at her in shock. She never brings up Pai unless prompted, yet here she is, talking
about him, misty-eyed, with a look on her face that just exudes a nostalgic sorrow.

“Just like him. You’ve got his black hair and green eyes. And his way with words, you know
he once called me a ‘queen amongst mortals’? He would be so very proud of you.”

The hateful little shadow inside my mind that always seemed to destroy my confidence at the
worst of times seemed to grow. “Proud of me? A disabled, socially awkward, brat? Mãe,” I
croaked.

Tears gathered at her eyes. Oh shit, no no no, don’t cry! “So very proud, Ophelia,” she
repeated. “Such a smart, beautiful daughter.” She cupped my cheek, “You’ve never
complained. He’s not here, and I can’t give you what you deserve, yet you never complain.
Ever since you were a babe, filhinha, so quiet. You just love and love and love, and never
complain.” (Little daughter - affectionate term)

My heart broke for her. She was younger than I was when I died when she became a mother.
Hells, she’s barely ten years older than I was. She didn’t deserve someone older than her as a
daughter. I kneel down at her side and pull her into a hug. “Desculpa, te amo, obrigada, te
amo Mãe.” I whisper useless platitudes into her ear. I love her but she deserves so much more
than what I can give her. (Sorry, I love you, thank you, I love you mom)

She calms down just enough to tell me, “Your father wanted you to go to a camp, for special
kids like you. I’m sorry, I wanted to keep you with me a little while longer. I thought I could
protect you, I was being selfish.”

I shushed her. I knew exactly what she was talking about, and I knew I couldn’t blame her for
not wanting me to become a child soldier so soon. “It’s okay, Mãezinha,” that draws a wet
chuckle from her. “We can talk about this later. I love you.” (Little mother - affectionate
term)
-

That night I had a vivid dream.

It was storming on the beach, and two beautiful animals, a white horse and a golden eagle
were trying to kill each other at the edge of the surf. The eagle swooped down and slashed the
horse's muzzle with its huge talons. The horse reared up and kicked at the eagles' wings. As
they fought, the ground rumbled, and a monstrous voice chuckled somewhere beneath the
earth, goading the animals to fight harder.

I ran toward them, knowing that I had to stop them; they were fighting the wrong enemy, but
I was running in slow motion. I knew I would be too late. I saw the eagle dive down, its beak
aimed at the horse's wide eyes, and I screamed, “No, Pai!”

I woke with a start.

Outside, it was storming. Like, full-on hurricane weather. Fuck. We have to leave right now!
I grabbed my backpack and the car keys and turned around to wake my mother, but she was
already awake. “Hurricane,” was all she said, eyes wide.

I could hear Grover banging and shouting at the door, words turning into bleats half-way
through a sentence being drowned out by the sound of twenty-foot waves. Oh fuck, oh shit.

My mother sprang out of bed in her nightgown and threw open the lock. Grover stood framed
in the doorway against a backdrop of pouring rain.

"Searching all night," he gasped. "What were you thinking?"

My mother looked at me in terror- not scared of Grover, but of why he'd come. "Ophelia,"
she said, shouting to be heard over the rain. "What happened at school? What didn't you tell
me?"

“No time!” I shouted back, “We have to get out of here!”

"O Zeu kai alloi theoi!" Grover yelled. "It's right behind me! Didn't you tell her?"

Mãe looked at me sternly and talks in a tone she'd never used before, "Ophelia. Tell me
now!"

I could barely hear myself yell back, “My math teacher turned into a demon and I met three
old ladies who I’m pretty sure are the Fates! Let’s go!” I physically grabbed my mother and
started dragging her to the door. Mãe stared at me, her face deathly pale under the flashes of
lightning.

She grabbed her purse, tossed me my rain jacket, and said, "Get to the car. Both of you. Go!"

Looking at Grover, I knew. This was the end of my normal, mortal life. Where human legs
would have been, shaggy hindquarters and cloven hooves moved.

They’ve given up all pretences. It’s about time for me to do the same.
Chapter End Notes

Izzy: Hey y'all, I typed this chapter out within 24 hours of posting the last one but I
couldn't get in contact with Raven for a while so there was a slight delay. This was probs
only typed out so quick because it's Queens birthday aka public holiday so I haven't
gone to school in the past 3 days.

Raven: Hey guys, hope you enjoy the chapter. Be grateful I introduced Izzy to proper,
100% professional line breaks, or else you all would probably be dealing with strange
gaps in the writing.

Izzy: Oi! A lot of people on Ao3 just leave gaps instead of an actual line break!

Raven: Well you’re dealing with me, who thinks that such practises are barbaric. What if
the reader thinks it’s an editorial mistake, huh? It’ll be a blow to my pride!

Izzy: Says the girl who first typed out “----” for a line break.

Raven: The “K” looks like an “R”.

Izzy: I didn’t know I needed glasses then! Also, stop confusing the readers with our
inside jokes.

Raven: I notice you didn’t dispute my point…

EDIT Raven: nevermind, the line breaks I used on the docs doesn't translate over to ao3.
It's just a "-" now that indicates them. I was so sure it would work too... :(
 Bullfighting is Way Harder Than You See On TV
Chapter Summary

When you want to wreck someone six ways down to hell, but important reasons get in
the way, you suck it up and deal with it. But don’t worry Mãe, you’re daughter’s got
plans for the re-match, and they all end in pain… For them, not me.

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Reaching the car, Mãe fucking stepped on it.

The landscape zoomed past us like we were on steroids. Trees became nothing more than
green blurs and I’m pretty sure we’re breaking every traffic and speeding law known to
mankind. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say we were going even faster than the Grey Sisters’
cab.

A small, insane part of my brain was weirdly chanting ‘Fast and Furious: Electric Boogaloo’
which sorta shows exactly what I think under pressure. Another part of my brain was going
‘Damn, Mãe can drive, woo-hoo!’

Gods know how I haven’t died before the canon era even started.

It took me way too long to notice that we are driving away from the ocean. “Wait! Mãe,
what’re you doing? We have to go to the sea!”

Grover looked at me like I was insane, “The sea? A monster is after us and you want us to
drive this car into the ocean? We have to get you to camp!”

Ugh! “The sea will protect us! Mãe, please, turn around and head to the sea! At least I can
defend myself there!” They don’t understand, damn it!

“Ophelia, the camp will protect you, you have the best chance there.” Mãe sounded very
worried.

“Eu sei quem é meu pai! Puta merda, vá para a água para que eu possa matar esse monstro!” I
snap. (I know who my dad is! Holy shit, go towards the water so I can kill this monster!)

Mãe whips around to face me despite the car still going fast enough to be in a The Rock
movie. “O QUE?!” (WHAT?!)

...I probably shouldn’t have just told her that I know the secret she’s been trying to hide from
me for my entire life like that. Too late now. Heh. Cheers to regretting something
immediately!

“Watch out!” Grover warns, and Mãe barely swerves the car in time to avoid a collision with
a fallen tree laying across the road. What is with obstacles and dramatic timing?

“Grover, put on your seatbelt.” I berated him.

Mãe ramps up the speed to ‘I know I can’t bend space-time but I’m gonna try anyway.’
“Camp is closer than the cabin right now. Ophelia, we are continuing this conversation when
we aren’t in mortal peril.”

I winced; that was her serious voice. I’m so dead.

There were a few tense moments before Grover spoke up, “Percy...you knew the old ladies
are the Fates.”

That wasn’t a question. Fuck. Uh- half-truths! “As much as everyone kept trying to hide it
from me, a cyclops in a trenchcoat watching me when I was 8 set off a few alarm bells. They
arrested him ‘cause they thought he was a paedophile, remember? You both know how much
I like to research. The Graeco-Roman Myths were the only one that fit the bill of weird
donkey-and-brass-legged women staring at me in the park, and everything after that was
applied logic.” Yes! Totally nailed it! They call me the Foxy Queen of Lies. Actually no,
serpents are cooler and trickier than foxes, call me the ‘Serpent Queen of Lies.’

Grover seemed to buy it. “At least we’ve got that down. So do you know about Camp?”

“Nope. Sounds like a ‘safe place’ with protections against these monsters. Also, are you a
faun?”

“Blaa-ha-ha! I’m a satyr!” Huh, he seemed pretty offended at my inquiry. Grover doesn’t like
being associated with the Romans: check.

“I was close,” I grumbled. “So it’s the Grecian gods we’re dealing with, cool. What’s this
about a camp?”

“Ophelia,” Mãe said, “there’s too much to explain and not enough time. We have to get you
to safety.”

“Safety from what exactly? I get that it’s a monster, but who?”

“Oh, nobody much,” Grover said, obviously still offended at the faun comment. “Just the
Lord of the Dead and some of his blood-thirstiest monsters.”

“Grover!”

“Sorry, Mrs Jackson. Could you drive faster, please?”

“Ms Silvia-Jackson, actually,” I absent-mindedly correct, flapping my hands in a nervous

stim.
I’m now cursing up a storm at myself for skim reading this chapter whenever I read The
Lightning Thief. It’s not my fault! Even though it totally is, but whatever! I just hate the
action and fighting scenes so I read them as quickly as possible. How was I supposed to
know the details would turn out to be so important?

Mãe made a hard left. We swerved onto a narrower road, racing past darkened farmhouses,
wooded hills and ‘PICK YOUR OWN STRAWBERRIES’ signs on white picket fences. Oh
good, we’re getting close.

“Is there only this camp? Are there other safe spaces?”

Grover side-eyed me. “I suppose there are the Hunters of Artemis; they are immortal unless
killed in battle, but sworn off from love.”

“Iconic,” I remarked. “Good for them, but not my cup of tea.” I wanted to start a family too
much for that. “Might keep it on the table for when I’m a bit older.”

Grover stared at me. “You would consider joining the Hunters?” Was that a bit of hurt in his
voice?

“Uh, yeah? They sound cool.”

His reply got cut off by Mãe pulling the wheel hard to the right, and I got a glimpse of a
figure she'd swerved to avoid, a dark fluttering shape now lost behind us in the storm.

"We're almost there," Mãe said. "Another mile. Please. Please. Please."

Outside the car was nothing but rain, darkness, and that hollow feeling of empty countryside.
I bet the tip of Long Island looked way better than what I was feeling, but that’s irrelevant
right now. Instead, I all but suffocated in worry. I thought about the Fates, the way they said it
was up to me to change the future. Can’t change the future if I don’t reach Camp. Can’t
change anything if I’m dead, either.

I was snapped out of it by a blinding flash, right before the jaw-rattling boom hit. Our
fucking car just exploded. Fuck me!

And also, fuck Zeus with a rusty spork!

I remember feeling weightless like I was being crushed, fried, and hosed down all at the same
time.

I peeled my forehead off the back of the driver's seat and said, "Fucking ouch."

“Ophelia? Ophelia!”

“I’m okay, Mãe.”

The car hadn’t really exploded. Instead, we crashed into a ditch after Zeus (also known as
That Trigger Happy Bastard) shot a lightning bolt at us. I have no idea why it missed, but I
was counting my fucking blessings. The driver’s side doors were now wedged in the mud.
The roof had been cracked open and now was like a red hot jagged, smoking, piece of broken
metal eggshell. Oh yeah, I am so going to flip him the bird the first time I meet him.

“I’m okay too, Mrs Jackson.” There was a small trickle of blood coming from a cut on
Grover’s forehead but he seemed otherwise fine. The seatbelt I had earlier commanded
Grover to put the fuck on had seemed to have done the trick of not knocking him out as soon
as we crashed. At least one thing is going right for me today.

“Ophelia,” Mãe said, “we have to …” Her voice faltered.

I looked back. In a flash of lightning, through the mud-spattered rear windshield, I saw a
figure lumbering toward us on the shoulder of the road. The sight of it made my skin crawl. It
was a dark silhouette of the minotaur. Fuck, he had caught up to us.

I swallowed hard.

“Ophelia,” she said, deathly serious, "Get out of the car."

Mãe threw herself against the driver’s side door. It was jammed shut in the mud. I tried mine.
Stuck too.

Looking up desperately at the hole in the roof, I judged whether we could use it as an exit,
but the edges were smoking and sizzling. In a split-second decision, I grabbed my backpack
and Mãe’s purse, lobbed them out the hole, and smashed the car door window.

"Climb out the window!” I yelled at Mãe. Grover quickly - thank the gods - understood and
clambered out.

Mãe stumbled as she exited, nearly falling onto me. "Ophelia, you have to run. Do you see
that big tree?"

There was another flash of lightning, and I could see the tree she meant: a huge pine tree at
the crest of the hill. Thalia.

"That's the property line," Mãe said. "Get over that hill and you'll see a big farmhouse down
in the valley. Run and don't look back. Yell for help. Don't stop until you reach the door."

“Of course,” I said, scooping up our bags and shoving both the slow-pokes forward. “Let’s
go!”

The Minotaur made a grunting, snorting sound. Gross. He was moving more slowly than I
had imagined when I had read the books.

"He doesn't want us," Mãe tried to comfort me. "He wants you. Besides, I can't cross the
property line." Not exactly what I’m worried about but A for effort.
“We can deal with that when we get there. I’m not leaving you. Let’s get to the border, come
on!” I urged them on. For two people wanting me to get to Camp Half-Blood, they weren’t
moving very fast. We stumbled away and towards the hill.

The bull-man hunched over our car, looking in the windows, or maybe more like snuffling,
nuzzling. I wasn't sure why he bothered since we were only about fifty feet away.

"His sight and hearing are terrible," she said. "He goes by smell. But he'll figure out where
we are soon enough." How the hells does she know that?

As if on cue, the bull-man bellowed in rage. He picked up Gabe's Camaro by the torn roof,
the chassis creaking and groaning. Raising the car over his head, he threw it down the road. It
slammed into the wet asphalt and skidded in a shower of sparks for about half a mile before
coming to a stop. The gas tank exploded. Why don’t the laws of physics apply here? It’s
harder than that for a shitty car to explode!

Good thing I grabbed our bags before we got out. Don’t want them as crispy as Gabe’s
Camaro.

"Ophelia," Mãe began. "When he sees us, he'll charge. Wait until the last second, then jump
out of the way; directly sideways. He can't change directions very well once he's charging.
Do you understand?"

“Got it. Just like the bullfighting rings.”

The Minotaur bellowed in anger. He’d spotted us.

Fuck this. I grabbed my friend’s arm and pushed Mãe forward as I started to sprint away. No
fucking way am I letting anyone get killed by the fucking Minotaur. It was almost mindless
the way all the water jumped to do my bidding; a miniaturized stream blasted the Minotaur’s
feet, capitalizing on the rather dangerous nature of sprinting on mud in a storm.

The fucker had his feet ripped from under him. A sound somewhere between snorting and
pure anger rippled through the air.

Taste the riptide, motherfucker!

We were reaching the crest of the hill when my foot slipped, making me fall. My control over
water fumbled; pressurizing water in a controlled manner was harder than it looked, even
with it rejuvenating me. ‘Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck!’ I inwardly chanted as I stumbled to right
myself.

Grover and Mãe began screaming for help. We were finally close enough that any campers
nearby might hear us.

Instinct made me turn around as my danger sensors shrieked at me to pay attention. The
Minotaur was charging straight at me. He had lowered his head, those razor-sharp horns
aimed straight at my chest. Small victory; he looked more mud than Monster.
“Move!” I shrieked. Shoving Mãe and Grover away from me, I waited, blood pounding
through my ears. At the very last possible moment, I jumped to the side.

The bull-man stormed past like a freight train, then bellowed with frustration and turned, not
toward me this time, but towards Mãe.

“No!” I yelled, but it was too late.

The Minotaur had snatched up my mother and in one quick squeeze, she was gone. Turned to
golden dust, scattered to the squalls, gone.

I wailed in grief.

The Monster then turned to me. I grew quiet, eyeing it in contemplation.

It had laid his filthy hands upon my mother. I’m going to kill it, take a horn or two, then
collect its fucking head.

The clearing was silent. For a second, the rain paused, just a little.

A moment later I was blinking the irrationality away, calling on what my therapist taught me.
I’ve made it this far, and at the end of the day, Grover cannot know I’m Poseiden’s daughter.
Yet.

I pulled out Riptide as it charged. Spinning to the side, I did my damn best to fillet its ribs.

I’m the daughter of Poseidon who is currently soaked in rainwater. I was fast, fast enough to
try to dodge, but at point-blank range? I hadn’t moved fast enough. By the time I came to, it
had backhanded me clean across the clearing. The impact made me choke.

I could hear Grover calling my name. For a second, everything dipped sideways into black.
‘Oh, a concussion,’ my sluggish brain connected.

The Minotaur seemed to have rammed straight into Thalia but was now shaking it off. It
turned back to me. I couldn’t escape, hells, I was barely standing up.

Riptide sat tightly in my hands anyways.

It charged, and, in a move pulled straight from the books, I knelt and brought Riptide up to
slash it from neck to navel.

The Minotaur seemed to scream as it turned into dust. Good.

I was barely conscious, collapsing like a puppet with its strings cut as soon as it was over.
Grover scrambled towards me, shouldering me up and forwards. I could feel nothing and
everything. My body felt numb, and yet the pounding pain in my head, my ribs, my legs, told
me otherwise. More importantly, my head… Gods, my head!
I saw a blond blob appear. It seemed to be talking to me but I could barely make out what it
was saying. “Hey! Okay… focus… me… please… awake!”

Did it… want me to stay awake? No way, buckaroo, I’m tired. I need a nap.

Two more heads appeared; one blonde and one brunette. Wasn’t there supposed to be just one
blonde? Why are there two Annie-bells or whatever the fuck her name is? Ooh, does she have
a twin?

The second blonde said something around the lines of, "The one... has...be."

"Silence…’beth." The brunette sounded like he was murmuring underwater. Was that
normal? "Still cons… ‘ring ‘er..."

Rings? Is someone proposing? Huh, did I died again and reincarnate into the Lord of the
Rings? I wouldn’t mind being a Hobbit. Honest.

I felt myself being pressed into some warm arms. A sweet voice was speaking to me but I
was too out of it. I’m so tired… maybe I can just take a little nap…

I drift off to a distant voice and the sound of storms.

The faint sounds of a fight had me up and jolting. Midnight? What was happening at
midnight? Why was this happening at midnight?

I ignored the cold sweat sticking to my back. Stupid nightmares.

My hand was around the knife under my pillow before I was even fully upright. Slipping out
of bed and grabbing my sword, I made my way to the door. Something was wrong. I locked
eyes with Alabaster, who had also sprung awake when I slipped past him. I motioned for him
to stay here while I went outside to check it out. Someone needs to be on guard duty, may as
well be him.

The sounds of the fight were barely audible over the sounds of the rainstorm surrounding the
Camp. Glancing to the side, I could see the lights of the Big House turn on, and the shadowy
shape of what was probably Chiron appeared at its doorway.

I sprinted towards him, scanning the area for what was causing the disruption.

There! At the top of Half-Blood Hill, right under Thalia’s tree, was a large shape - a monster
- yelling its frustrations at two smaller shapes - a demi-god and a satyr? - as they battle.

I spot Annabeth leaving her cabin and run after me from the corner of my eyes. After
catching up to Chiron, Annabeth not far behind me, he turns to face us. “Grover and
Persephone have arrived. Unfortunately, they’re accompanied by Pasiphae’s son.”

It felt like a bucket of cold water had been dropped on me. Grover. “We have to go help
them, come on!” I urged.
 “No,” Chiron stopped us, “wait.”

“Wait?” I snarled. “They’re going to get killed! You want to wait until they're just corpses to
rescue?” I turned and started to run up the hill after my friend and the new arrival.

“Luke!”

Annabeth hesitated for a moment too long for my liking. This was Grover! For a split-
second, she prioritised Chiron’s order over saving the life of our friend. She then started
following me, albeit at a far more sedate pace. Chiron hollered for a medic before trailing
behind, probably not to interfere until the last possible moment. He wasn’t even out of his
wheelchair!

I was half-way there when it suddenly went silent. Fearing the worst, I put on a last burst of
speed. I heard a bellow. A feminine scream followed after. “Percy!” Grover yelled.

The faintest glimmer of monster dust flew through the air.

I got to the top of the hill to see Grover, badly bruised, bleeding sluggishly from a cut on his
head, drag a half-conscious demi-god into Camp’s protective shield. When he spotted me, his
relieved call of “Luke!” had me all but teleporting to his side.

Annabeth crested the hill with a shout of, “Grover, are you okay?” Chiron trotted at her heels.
Out of the wheelchair, huh.

I knelt over the prone body of the girl, frantically trying to get her to focus on me and stay
awake with her almost definite concussion.

“Chiron! Help her!” I commanded him, but he just stared.

Annabeth examined the girl too. “She’s the one, it has to be.” Urgh, not this quest thing
again. This is not the time, the girl’s badly injured!

“Silence, Annabeth," the centaur said. "She's still conscious. Bring her inside,” he directed at
me.

‘I’m trying!’ I wanted to shout at his face, but I kept my mouth shut. I picked her up, bridal
style, trying not to jostle her to the best of my abilities. I even talked to her in an attempt to
keep her awake, but it was futile. The girl’s eyes slid shut and stayed that way, nearly making
my heart stop for fear that she had just died in my arms. After confirming the way her chest
was still rising and falling, I let out a short breath.

“It’s okay,” I murmured to her. “We’re almost there. Hold on.”

Chapter End Notes

Raven: Yo, chapter 4 was all me trying to make her into one badass chick and Izzy
telling me ‘she can’t use her powers in front of Grover, Raven. Stop making her use her
powers!’ It is to my eternal dismay that I couldn’t refute her point.

Izzy: Sorry for the short chapter, I’m terrible at writing action scenes and practically
thrust the finished work at Raven like ‘Fix it! Please!’ Plus, I’m the idiot who also has
so many other fics/stories that are a WIP but I prioritised this so I could get the weekly
update up.

Raven: Well, the chapter was made in a manner so that it wouldn’t make sense for Percy
to not get heavily injured, so I couldn’t do much about the action scene. Anyway, I
personally am going to enjoy the next chapter. Writing about BAMF-but-only-when-I-
feel-like-it beings is so much fun! :D

Izzy: Raven just loves the ‘gods-being-chill-until-they-go-bamf’ trope

Raven: I’m a sucker for OP characters, just like thousands of other people. Sue me.

Izzy: I won’t. I also have an obsession with Apollo the chill yet clumsily-bamf god.
 You know what? Mr D can keep his fucking AA chip.
Chapter Summary

It’s an exercise in futility to try to get me to not antagonise jackasses, but hey, I promise
I know when to stop. No really, I do! But hey, let’s see you try any better when nobody
tells you anything…

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

I had some pretty strange dreams while I was passed out in the infirmary, one of barnyard
animals and oceans, of deep caverns and flaming rivers, even of pretty blondes fighting for
their lives. The strangest was probably of rain falling (rising?) backwards and strings
unravelling. Mixing demi-god dreams with a concussion is not the best idea. It’s practically
guaranteed to give people migraines, and I definitely don’t need any more of those.

I woke up a few times, one of them to a very blurry blonde figure spoon-feeding me
something gold that tastes like pizza rolls. They hovered over me while scraping drips off my
chin with what felt like the spoon.

When they saw my eyes open, they blurted out, "What will happen at the summer solstice?"

Ok, what?

They looked around wildly before lowering their voice to whisper. "What's going on? What
was stolen? We've only got a few weeks!"

My eloquent response, to who I think was a girl, was to pass the fuck back out again. I think
I’ll talk to you after my brain doesn’t feel like overcooked noodles, thanks.

The next time I woke, I had a pounding headache but my vision seemed to have recovered.
There was a dude in the room with more eyes than I imagine Abrahamic angels have,
watching. He seemed chill, although he was taking his job way too seriously. All the eyes I
could spot were trained on me. If I were capable of thinking straight, I might’ve been
flattered. Or offended. Why the hell…? Urgh, my head.
He must be good ol’ Archie. Argie? Argum? Whatever. The dude Hera cursed to be a cow
guard or something. I passed out from the pain this time.

When I finally came around for good, there was nothing weird about my surroundings,
except that they were way nicer than I was used to. Am I on vacation?

I was sitting in a deck chair on a huge porch, gazing across a meadow at green hills in the
distance. The breeze smelled like strawberries, and there wasn’t any pollution a New Yorker
like me was used to. No sea breeze either, so I wasn’t too close to the sea. There was a
blanket over my legs, a pillow behind my neck. All of that was great, but my mouth felt like a
fucking scorpion had been using it for a nest. My tongue was dry, my throat was nasty and
every single one of my teeth hurt. Gross.

On the table next to me was a tall drink. It looked like iced apple juice, with a green straw
and a paper parasol stuck through a maraschino cherry. I love apple juice, but I hate cherries.

My hands were so weak I almost dropped the glass once I got my fingers around it.
"Careful," a familiar voice said.

“Grover,” I croaked, “mind helping me?”

Grover appeared in my vision and I nearly cried out. His forehead had a cut with stitches and
he looked exhausted - like he hadn’t slept in a week. He’s just a kid, barely 14 in human
terms, he shouldn’t be looking like this!

He knelt in front of me, the cup of what I’m pretty sure is filled with Nectar outstretched so I
can take a sip. Holy shit this is delicious! Mmhm. Tastes like Mãe’s blue chocolate chip
cookies. Can I get more of this? Bet even Gordan Ramsey would love this!

Grover shook me out of my thoughts by speaking. “You saved my life.”

I stared at him. “You dragged me to safety,” I countered.

His smile was real, if a bit shaky. My heart pangs at it. “Never change, Percy. How’re you
feeling?”

“Liable to try to fight the concept of mathematics if given the chance.”

He snorted. Ha, victory! I got him to laugh!

Grover sobered, “I’m sorry about your mom. The Minotaur dropped a spoil of war, his horn, I
got it for you.”

In his outstretched hands was said horn. I took it. There was a lump in my throat that I had to
swallow alongside my tears. “Thank you, Grover.” Faster than he could react, I hugged him
and held him tight.

I wanted to cry but I pushed it down. How did Percy Jackson do this? How does any half-
blood do this? They’re all so young yet they have to do so much.

When I pull away, Grover is blushing and looking at his feet. “You’ve been out for two
days.”

“I’ve missed much?”

“Not that much.”

I shot him a smile, he’s still trying to comfort me.

I stared across the meadow. There were groves of trees, a winding stream, and acres of
strawberries spread out under the blue sky. The valley was surrounded by rolling hills, and
the tallest one, directly in front of us, was the one with the huge pine tree on top. Even that
looked beautiful in the sunlight.

Mãe was gone. The whole world should be black and cold. Nothing should look beautiful.

But she’s not gone either. She’s in the underworld. I can still save her; I just need to complete
the quest successfully. Easy-fucking-peasy, an actual 12-year-old Percy did this, and I’m an
adult. I’m also a complete dumbass with some shitty hand-eye coordination, but at least I’ve
got a better grasp of my powers than Percy did at this age.

I also have a better-than-vague idea of what’s going down. Can’t forget that.

“I-” Grover struggled to say before giving up. “Come on. Chiron and Mr D are waiting.”

Ah, here comes the immortals and my test of ‘Don’t get yourself killed because of your big
mouth.’ Probably gonna fail, but that’s what I say with every test.

As we came around the opposite end of the house, my breath caught.

We must've been on the north shore of Long Island because on this side of the house, the
valley marched all the way up to the water which glittered about a mile in the distance.
Between here and there, I simply couldn't process everything I was seeing.

The landscape was dotted with buildings that looked like ancient Greek architecture; I could
spot an open-air pavilion, an amphitheatre and a circular arena. None of them would’ve
looked out of place in ancient Greece, except that they all looked brand new with their white
marble columns sparkling in the sun. In a nearby sandpit, a dozen high school-age kids and
satyrs played volleyball. Canoes glided across a small lake. Kids in bright orange T-shirts like
Grover's were chasing each other around a cluster of cabins nestled in the woods. Some
people were shooting targets at an archery range. Others rode horses down a wooded trail,
and some of their horses had wings- pegasi.

Camp Half-Blood. I’m actually at Camp Half-Blood. Holy shit.

Luckily the slight panic and awe making my knees buckle were brushed off as my injuries
acting up, and Grover quickly steadied me so I didn’t fall.

Down at the end of the porch, two men sat across from each other at a card table. The blond-
haired girl who'd probably spoon-fed me healing pudding was leaning on the porch rail next
to them. Annabeth Chase, wise-girl extraordinaire.

Wearing a tiger print Hawaiian shirt (what’s with gods and Hawaiian shirts?) was Mr D
himself. Dionysus, God of Wine, Festivities, and Ecstasy. Percy Jackson was right; he looked
like an overgrown cherub. Maybe if he de-aged himself by some 10 or 20 years I wouldn’t
think twice about calling him handsome, but right now he looked like a middle-aged washout
who got drunk on cheap boxed wine in a trailer park. Actually, he kinda reminded me of my
high school chemistry teacher who was in the middle of a divorce where his wife was taking
everything- just like Mr.D was banned from his own symbol; wine. I could almost pity
Dionysus for being without his alcohol. Maybe I should befriend him?

"That's Mr D," Grover murmured to me. "He's the camp director. Be polite. The girl, that's
Annabeth Chase. She's just a camper, but she's been here longer than just about anybody. And
you already know Chiron…"

"Chiron!" I cried.

The part-time Latin teacher, part-time Trainer of Heroes turned and smiled at me. His eyes
had that mischievous glint they sometimes got in class when he pulled a pop quiz and made
all the multiple choice answers B.

"Ah, good, Percy," he said. "Now we have four for pinochle."

He offered me a chair to the right of Mr D, who looked at me with bloodshot eyes and heaved
a great sigh. "Oh, I suppose I must say it. Welcome to Camp Half-Blood. There. Now, don't
expect me to be glad to see you."

I gave him a look, “I never had any expectations in the first place, why would I ever think
that?”

Grover and Chiron both shot me a look that just screamed ‘Percy! Behave!’ Annabeth merely
narrowed her eyes at me.

“Uh, I mean, um, thank?” Good job Ophelia, that wasn’t even proper English. ‘Thank.’ Are
you simple?

Grover seemed half nervous, half resisting the urge to face-palm. Mood, buddy, mood.

"Annabeth?" Chiron called her.

She came forward and Chiron introduced us. "This young lady nursed you back to health,
Percy. Annabeth, my dear, why don't you go check on Percy's bunk? We'll be putting her in
cabin eleven for now."

Annabeth said, "Sure, Chiron."

I stuck my hand out, “Nice to meet you, I’m Percy Jackson.”

She ignored it. “You drool in your sleep,” was her parting words before she spun in a
whirlwind of blonde hair and left.

That was so fucking rude. What the fuck? What did I do?

“So,” I started, eager to change the subject, “Can anyone explain exactly what the fuck is
happening?”

Chiron frowned at me, “Language,” he said. Mr D hid a snort though so, worth it.
"I must say, Percy," Chiron began, "I'm glad to see you alive. It's been a long time since I've
made a house call to a potential camper. I'd hate to think I've wasted my time."

"House call?"

"My year at Yancy Academy, to instruct you. We have satyrs at most schools, of course,
keeping a lookout. But Grover alerted me as soon as he met you. He sensed you were
something special, so I decided to come upstate. I convinced the other Latin teacher to…ah,
take a leave of absence."

Great, that’s super cryptic and did not answer my previous question at all. No wonder
everyone thought Percy Jackson was a Kelp Head, nobody ever explained shit to him.

“There was another Latin teacher for the first two weeks before she went on maternity leave,”
I stated.

Chiron nodded. "Honestly, I wasn't sure about you at first. We contacted your mother, let her
know we were keeping an eye on you in case you were ready for Camp Half-Blood. But you
still had so much to learn. Nevertheless, you made it here alive, and that's always the first
test."

"Grover," Mr D said impatiently, "are you playing or not?"

"Yes, sir!" Grover trembled as he took the fourth chair. Poor guy, don’t tremble so much,
you’ll become the best satyr and Lord of the Wild eventually. Start building up your
confidence, G-man.

"Do you know how to play pinochle?" Mr D eyed me suspiciously.

“Nope! I’m more of a Texas Hold’em and Bluff kinda girl, but I learn quickly.” Was that too
bubbly for a god? Whatever, why do I care for what he thinks?

"Well," he told me, "it is, along with gladiator fighting and Pac-Man, one of the greatest
games ever invented by humans. I would expect all civilized young men to know the rules."

“I’m not a young man,” I pointed out.

He looked at me up and down. “No, you're not,” he begrudgingly said.

"I'm sure the girl can learn," Chiron said.

The camp director dealt out the cards. Grover flinched every time one landed in his pile. Let
me tell you, that’s a lot of flinching.

“Is anyone going to answer my question? What is this place?”

"Percy," he said. "Did your mother tell you nothing?”

“No,” I looked at him annoyed, “she did not. I have made… guesses and theories. But
nobody has properly confirmed anything for me.”
"Typical," Mr D said. "That's how they usually get killed. Young lady, are you bidding or
not?"

"How do I bid?" I asked.

He explained, impatiently, how you bid in pinochle, and so I did.

"I'm afraid there's too much to tell," Chiron said. "Our usual orientation film won't be
sufficient."

I scowled at him. Stop withholding crucial information! “On the contrary, I believe there is a
lot to tell. If you won’t let me watch this ‘orientation film’ then at least answer my bloody
questions!” I snapped at him.

“Hmm,” Chiron the asshole horse-man said, unperturbed. “Well, Percy. You know your
friend Grover is a satyr. You know,” he pointed to the horn in my hand, “that you have killed
the Minotaur. No small feat, either, lass. What you may not know is that great powers are at
work in your life. Gods- the forces you call the Greek gods- are very much alive.”

“Okay. I’m pretty sure I deduced that already. How many gods?”

Everyone just stared at me. “How many gods?” Chiron repeated slowly as if I just said
something tremendously stupid.

“Yeah,” I gestured, “How many gods? You just said the Greek gods are very much alive.
Once, when I went to Brazil, I saw Saci Pererê. Mãe swears up and down she’s seen La
Llorona and a Troll as a kid. I’m pretty sure an elf runs a coffee shop downtown. How many
gods and pantheons?”

They’re still staring at me. Chiron has turned white.

“Uh, so. I’m pretty sure about the Norse and Romani, who else?” I pressed.

Mr D visibly winces at the mention of the Romans and Chiron takes this as his cue to step in.
“Percy, we don’t talk about that. Do you understand? There are the Greek gods and that’s all
you need to know.”

He seems pretty serious and almost afraid. I quickly agree. “Yes sir, I won’t.” What? He was
creeping me out, and I wasn’t expecting anyone here to elaborate anyways.

"Oh, you'd better," Mr D murmured. "Before one of them incinerates you."

Grover said, "P-please, sir. She's just lost her mother. She's in shock."

"A lucky thing, too," Mr D grumbled, playing a card. "Bad enough I'm confined to this
miserable job, working with brats who go about causing trouble like that." The look he shot
at me accused me of being suspicion incarnate.

He waved his hand and a goblet appeared on the table, as if the sunlight had bent,
momentarily, and woven the air into glass. The goblet filled itself with red wine.
"Mr D," Chiron warned, "your restrictions." Thunder rumbled overhead.

Mr D looked at the wine and feigned surprise. "Dear me." He looked at the sky and yelled,
"Old habits! Sorry!" More thunder.

Mr D waved his hand again, and the wineglass changed into a fresh can of Diet Coke. He
sighed unhappily, popped the top of the soda, and went back to his card game.

Chiron winked at me. "Mr D offended his father a while back. Took a fancy to a wood nymph
who had been declared off-limits."

"A wood nymph," I repeated. My mind was whirling. Are jelly shots technically drinking
alcohol? What about wine in cooking? Should I point this out to him and get me on his good
side? Wait, wait- he insulted me. He keeps calling me a brat and being rude. The bastard can
suffer.

"Yes," Mr D confessed. "Father loves to punish me. The first time, prohibition. Ghastly!
Absolutely horrid ten years! The second time- well, she really was pretty, and I couldn't stay
away. The second time, he sent me here. Half-Blood Hill. Summer camp for brats like you.
'Be a better influence,' he told me. 'Work with youths rather than tearing them down.' Ha.
Absolutely unfair."

Mr D sounded like a six-year-old kid who’s pouting out of principle.

“Your father is… ?” I keep up the slightly clueless act

"Di immortales, Chiron," Mr D said. "I thought you taught this brat the basics. My father is
Zeus, of course."

"So, you're Dionysus," I said. "The God of Wine."

Mr D rolled his eyes. "What do they say, these days, Grover? Don’t the children say, 'Well,
duh!'?"

"Y-yes, Mr D."

“Then, well, duh! Percy Jackson. Did you think I was Aphrodite, perhaps?"

"You're a God."

"Yes, child."

“If you’re a god, why do you look like that?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” His tone took a deeper edge. Purple flared in his eyes and
for a second they seemed to flare up and out.

“It’s an honest question,” I continued innocently. “You can look like anything, so why did
you pick that form?”
“Girl,” he rumbled. “You’re dissing me, aren’t you, girlie?”

As the cloying smell of grapes grew headier, his purple eyes began telling me a story. A story
of choking on vines, of warriors and zealots and sacrificial madness, of dying and liking it, of
seeing things that mADe mE WAnnA-

“Mr D!” Chiron interferes. Dionysus doesn’t react, but the story stops.

“Are you going to test me, girlie?”

“...No, sir. Not today,” I rasp out.

He grunts, but relents with a final picturesque glimpse.

I’m drowning I’m drowning the Daughter of Poseidon is drow-

It stops. I blink. Then I start breathing again.

…Huh. So that’s what they call madness. For some reason, not as bad as my panic attacks. I
give it an 8/10. ‘Would not recommend,’ for sure.

He turned back to his card game, "I believe I win."

"Not quite, Mr D," Chiron said. He set down a straight, tallied the points, and said, "The
game goes to me."

"I'm tired," Mr D spoke. "I believe I'll take a nap before the sing-along tonight. But first,
Grover, we need to talk, again, about your not-so-perfect performance on this assignment."

Grover's face was beaded with sweat. "Y-yes, sir."

Mr D turned to me. "Cabin eleven, Percy Jackson. And mind your manners." He swept into
the farmhouse, Grover following miserably.

Chiron seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. He had looked nervous like he wanted to snatch me
from in front of Dionysus and run for it while I was still aggravating him.

“You shouldn’t test the patience of the gods, Percy.” He looked down at me like he wanted to
seem wise and in charge but all it did was flare up my dislike of authority. If someone didn’t
test the gods, how would they know they are failing?

"You mean the Greek gods are here? Like... in America?"

"Well, certainly. The gods move with the heart of the West."

"The what?"

"Come now, Percy. It’s what you call 'Western civilization.' Do you think it's just an abstract
concept? No, it's a living force. A collective consciousness that has burned bright for
thousands of years. The gods are part of it. You might even say they are the source of it, or at
least, they are tied so tightly to it that they couldn't possibly fade, not unless all of the
Western civilization was obliterated. The fire started in Greece. Then, as you well know- or I
hope you know since you passed my course- the heart of the fire moved to Rome, and so did
the gods. Oh, different names, perhaps. Jupiter for Zeus, Venus for Aphrodite, and so on. But
it’s still the same forces, the same gods."

"What? No, the Romani are just great at Syncretism, the past should have died without
worship." I’m seething, I’m getting irrational, and a storm is churning in my gut. This
fucking horse-man is seriously getting on my nerves.

"Died? No. Did the West die? The gods simply moved, to Germany, to France, to Spain for a
while. Wherever the flame was brightest, the gods were there. They spent several centuries in
England. All you need to do is look at the architecture. People do not forget the gods. Every
place they've ruled, for the last three thousand years, you can see them in the paintings, in the
statues, even on the most important buildings. And yes, Percy, of course they are now in your
United States. Look at your symbol, the eagle of Zeus. Look at the statue of Prometheus in
Rockefeller Center, the Greek facades of your government buildings in Washington. I dare
you to find any American city where the Olympians are not prominently displayed in
multiple places. Like it or not, and believe me, plenty of people weren't very fond of Rome
either, America is now the heart of the flame. It is the great power of the West, and so
Olympus is here, as are we."

It was so frustrating. I already knew that the gods lingered due to their legacy. Chiron just
proved to me that he goes out of his way to tell me absolutely nothing useful, all the time. If
you don’t want to give it to me straight, then fucking say so! “That’s the West. What about
the East? The North and South?”

"What about them?" he mused. "Well, that's the question we wouldn’t want answered, isn't it?
But for now, we should get you a bunk in cabin eleven. There will be new friends to meet,
and plenty of time for lessons tomorrow. Besides, there will be s' mores at the campfire
tonight, and I simply adore chocolate."

Useless horse-man. Fucking answer my fucking gods-damned question!

Then he rose from his wheelchair.

A leg came out, long and knobby-kneed, with a huge polished hoof. Then another front leg,
then hindquarters, and then the box was empty, nothing but a metal shell with a couple of
fake human legs attached.

I stared at the horse who had just sprung from the wheelchair: a huge white stallion. But
where its neck should be was the upper body of my Latin teacher, smoothly grafted to the
horse's trunk.

Seven fucking hells. So that’s what the Mist and its magic look like in action.

"What a relief," the centaur said. "I'd been cooped up in there so long, my fetlocks had fallen
asleep. Now, come, Persephone Jackson. Let's meet the other campers."
Chapter End Notes

Raven: Hey guys, sorry to say but we ain’t gonna update until, like, Saturday bare
minimum. Izzy and I both have exams, and you bet it’s gonna be hell. Chemistry
continues to elude me, damn those equations…

Izzy: Assessment week is rough and I have to memorize and understand whatever crack
Socrates is on. So no updates on this fic for a little extra while, but don’t worry! I made
this chapter extra long (3.5k words, how tf did I write this all yesterday?) so you can
enjoy more of this story! Also, we are having another planning session Friday since I
have no outline for the next few chapters; so send in theories, suggestions, and feedback
in the comments!

Raven: Yeah, I was actually surprised at the sheer number of words Izzy pumped out
too. Read those information dumps and tell me I’m wrong; just goes to show how much
random stuff people can know.

Izzy: Yeah I write like crazy, hyper-focusing perks<3 Also, information dumps?

Raven: What else do you call Chiron’s spiel on the Western civilisation?

Izzy: Uhhh, you do realise that was straight from the book right? Like, only mild
adjustments because I’m bad at writing that spiel he went on (I rewrote it 3 times before
just copying it)

Raven: Oh, it is? Welp, I haven’t read the PJO series in ages, so I wouldn’t know. Don’t
worry folks, Izzy here is the fact-checker, for obvious reasons.

Izzy: I have the whole Riordan collection at home so I can do this <3

Raven: *nods* Yeah, she does.

 I realized I sound like a conspiracy theorist to even myself and
had a meltdown. The two events are unrelated. How was your
day?
Chapter Summary

The world is a darker place than most care to realise, and guess what? Being an asshole
has consequences. Actual, serious, consequences.

Chapter Notes

Trigger Warning for Autistic Meltdown

See the end of the chapter for more notes

It had taken me a little while to realise that Riptide was no longer where it usually is; in my
bra.

While Chiron led a lovely tour of the grounds, I was busy trailing a bit behind him doing a
frantic slap down of myself that most know as the, ‘Oh God, where the hell did I put my
keys/wallet/phone?’ patdown.

My increasing panic stopped cold when I realised that Riptide had not, in fact, disappeared- it
was now resting as a pendant around my throat. Oh, so now it wants to transform into
something I can carry without the bottomless pit called a ‘man’s pocket.’ The little necklace
seemed like something I would wear; a simple, black, leather cord with a metal dagger charm
that looked like it had been dipped in blood. Cool, it looks like I stan Lady Macbeth.

Being mildly distracted as I am, I startled badly when we went past the volleyball pit and a
ball went flying and rolled to a stop at my feet. Looking very cool, Ophelia, jumping three
feet in the air like a surprised cartoon character; bet my face looked like a startled stoat too.

I bent down to pick the volleyball up and nearly flinched again when I saw one of the
campers had approached while I wasn’t looking. It was a boy, maybe 14 or 15, with some
bright golden hair and muscles I knew most girls my age would swoon for. He looked like he
was the personification of sunshine.

He smiled at me in a way that just confirmed my previous theory; sunshine. “Thanks for
stopping the ball.”
Now, most girls my physical age would blush and stutter and probably get an instant crush on
Señor Sunshine over here. Me? I’m a twenty-year-old woman stuck in the body of a preteen;
my thoughts are swinging wildly between ‘gross, I’d be a paedophile’ and ‘gross, boys have
cooties.’ So no, I don’t think my love life is going to be very interesting until I turn at least 18
again.

“Of course, here.” I toss back the ball with a polite smile.

Unfortunately, this wasn’t the end of the interaction. “I’m Lee Fletcher, son of Apollo. You’re
new aren’t you?”

Chiron had stopped the tour and was looking at us with interest from somewhere ahead.
Please interfere, I’m an introvert with a low grasp on socialisation rules. This is not my
comfort zone. At all.

“Uh, yeah. I’m Percy Jackson.” Introducing myself like that never gets old.

His smile managed to get even more blinding, “Nice to meet you! Are you claimed or
undetermined?”

“Unclaimed.” Please stop talking to me.

“Hope you get claimed soon! I’ll see you around.”

Oh, thank shit. “See you!” I gave an awkward wave to his retreating back. As you can see,
interacting with other people ‘my age’ isn’t all that far up on my ‘To get better at’ list.

Chiron waited for me to catch up again, “It’s good to see that you’re already making friends.”

Huh? “It was just a greeting.”

He just gave me a look that I’m quite used to from everyone; one that said ‘You just
misread/misunderstood a normal obvious human social interaction/rule.’ Alas, curse my
ADHD and Autism, nearly 33 years of living and I clearly still don’t understand stuff like
this.

Looking back at the farmhouse, it was a lot bigger than I'd realized- four stories tall -painted
sky blue with white trim, like an upscale seaside resort. I was checking out the brass eagle
weathervane on top when something caught my eye, a shadow in the uppermost window of
the attic gable. Something had moved the curtain, just for a second, and I got the distinct
impression I was being watched.

The Oracle.

Fuck, I had forgotten that Miss-Creepy-Mummified-Oracle was just fucking wandering

around. Bloody hell, Hades, can’t you not take your anger out on innocent Oracles? I don’t
want to deal with that gross decaying corpse when I inevitably have to get a prophecy for a
quest, nobody does!

"Come along, Percy," Chiron said, snapping me out of my internal monologue. "Lots to see."
We walked through the strawberry fields, where campers were picking bushels of berries
while a satyr played a tune on a reed pipe.

Chiron told me the camp grew a nice crop for export to New York restaurants and Mount
Olympus. "It pays our expenses," he explained. "And the strawberries take almost no effort."

He said Mr D had this effect on fruit-bearing plants: they just went crazy when he was
around. It worked best with wine grapes, but Mr D was restricted from growing those, so
they grew strawberries instead.

There’s a satyr playing the flute in the field, little bugs are marching away from their tasty
leafy snacks in time with the music. Cool, totally want that to keep spiders the fuck away
from me, or maybe I could just straight-up set them on fire, that’s good too.

“Will Grover be okay?” I ask Chiron out of the blue, interrupting him halfway through a
sentence about strawberry importation. “He looked pretty nervous when he left with Mr D.”

Chiron sighed. He shed his tweed jacket and draped it over his horseback like a saddle.
"Grover has big dreams, Percy. Perhaps bigger than are reasonable. To reach his goal, he
must first demonstrate great courage by succeeding as a keeper, finding a new camper and
bringing him safely to Half-Blood Hill."

"And he did that. I arrived without too many major injuries- he dragged me to safety."

"I might agree with you," Chiron said. "But it is not my place to judge. Dionysus and the
Council of Cloven Elders must decide. I'm afraid they might not see this assignment as a
success. After all, Grover lost you in New York. Then there's the unfortunate ... ah ... fate of
your mother. Add the fact that you were unconscious and injured when he dragged you over
the property line; The council might question whether this shows any courage on Grover's
part."

I scowled. That’s so stupid, he did way better than what I remember in canon. “I think he
showed exceptional courage. Is there any way I can testify on his behalf?”

Chiron seemed taken aback by that for some reason, “I’m afraid not, they would not see you
as an impartial judge on the situation.”

“Then who does he have testifying on his behalf? Or is he single-handedly defending himself
and his actions with nobody to verify or attest to them? That seems far more unjust.” I point
out.

“I’m sorry, Percy, but that’s just how things are. Now let’s move on, please.”

Urgh! It’s like he’s purposely standing by as injustice happens without any attempt to help or
defend the victims! Isn’t this supposed to be America? Land of the Free and Just? What about
the obvious Grecian influence too? The Greeks who invented democracy? This isn’t right!
Stop trying to just- brush all the flaws of the system under the rug! It’s like he’s purposely
trying to encourage all the campers to wear rose-coloured glasses and just focus on the ‘good’
parts of being a demi-god...!
Oh.

That’s... that’s exactly what’s happening.

Chiron had started walking away from me as if expecting me to forget what we were just
talking about and continue with the tour. I eye his back with suspicion. Why are you just as
indifferent as the gods to demi-god suffering? In fact, why are you influencing- no,
manipulating demi-god’s to think the status quo is the optimum solution when it’s obviously
not?

I think if I truly was a 12-year-old, I never would’ve noticed it- Hell! Even reading the books
as an adult I barely picked up on it! Only living as Percy with an adult mind and an ability to
recognise propaganda did I now notice it. And yet, a small part of my mind is still screaming
that I’m just being paranoid. Oh shit, is this why it was mostly the older half-bloods that
rebelled? Were they the only one’s mature and critical enough to realise something’s up?

Something is going on here, and I’m going to figure out what it is.

I catch up with him. Shoving this to the back of my mind and slapping some ‘for later’ tapes
over it, I just act normal. This is a problem for Future Me, I’m too stressed to think logically
right now.

As we got closer, I realized how huge the forest was. It took up at least a quarter of the valley,
with trees so tall and thick, you could imagine nobody had been in there since the Native
Americans.

Chiron said, "The woods are stocked if you care to try your luck, but go armed."

"Stocked? Armed? With what?" I’m pretty sure my tone was sterner than I wanted it to be but
you can’t blame me; What the fuck is Chiron thinking to introduce me, to introduce anyone,
to a supposedly new world like this?

"You'll see. Capture the flag is Friday night. Do you have your own sword and shield?"

"Shield?" Yep, totally didn’t steal Riptide from you. Also, do I look like I’m capable of lifting
a shield? With my noodle arms, I think the fuck not.

"No," Chiron mused. "I don't suppose you do. I think a size four will do. We'll visit the
armoury later."

I wanted to ask why he was just straight up shoving me into the deep end and expecting me
to swim in this completely new world and life, but I didn’t. I just held back a sigh instead.
There’s already so much trouble with the unspoken communication and social interaction
rules of the normal world I have to deal with; learning how to act in a new world is going to
suck.

We saw the archery range, the canoeing lake, the stables (which Chiron didn't seem to like
very much), the javelin range, the sing-along amphitheatre, and the arena where Chiron said
they held sword and spear fights.
"Sword and spear fights?" I asked.

"Cabin challenges and all that," he explained. "Not lethal. Usually. Oh, yes, and there's the
mess hall."

‘Not lethal’ say what? These are little kids! Half of them haven’t even started puberty! What
the fuck?

Chiron pointed to an outdoor pavilion framed in white Grecian columns on a hill overlooking
the sea. There were a dozen stone picnic tables. No roof. No walls.

"What do you do in winter?" I asked. “Won’t it get too cold without any walls for insulation?
And what about bugs? Mosquitoes?”

Chiron, helpful as always, just looked at me as if I'd gone a little weird. "We still have to eat,
don't we?" It was easier to simply drop the subject, so I did.

Wait, perfect weather. Forgot about that.

Finally, he showed me the cabins. There were twelve of them, nestled in the woods by the
lake. They were arranged in a U, with two at the base and five in a row on either side. They
were also, without doubt, the most bizarre collection of buildings I'd ever seen.

Except for the fact that each had a large brass number above the door (odds on the left side,
evens on the right), they looked absolutely nothing alike. Number nine had smokestacks, like
a tiny factory. Number four had tomato vines on the walls and a roof made out of real grass.
Seven seemed to be made of solid gold, which gleamed so much in the sunlight it was almost
impossible to look at.

They all faced a common area about the size of a soccer field, dotted with Greek statues,
fountains, flower beds, and a couple of basketball hoops. Who designed that? If the ball went
wide it could break a statue or damage the flowers. Did nobody remember they were
designing this place for rambunctious teenagers?

In the centre of the field was a huge stone-lined fire pit. Even though it was a warm
afternoon, the hearth smouldered. A girl about nine years old was tending the flames, poking
the coals with a stick. Hestia. I made a mental note to say ‘hi’ and introduce myself to her
some time today.

The pair of cabins at the head of the field, numbers one and two, looked like his-and-hers
mausoleums, big white marble boxes with heavy columns in front. Cabin one was the biggest
and bulkiest of the twelve. Its polished bronze doors shimmered like a hologram, so that from
different angles lightning bolts seemed to streak across them. Cabin two was more graceful
somehow, with slimmer columns garlanded with pomegranates and flowers. The walls were
carved with images of peacocks.

Wow. Zeus and Hera were so fucking pretentious. They decorated their cabins like a
minimalist interior designer that I’d love to punch because they think adding one or two blue
pillows to a disgustingly sterile-white house is ‘adding a splash of colour.’ It’s so tacky.
I stopped in front of the first cabin on the left, cabin three.

It wasn't high and mighty like cabin one, but long and low and solid. The outer walls were of
rough grey stone studded with pieces of seashell and coral, as if the slabs had been hewn
straight from the bottom of the ocean floor.

I peeked inside the open doorway and Chiron said, "Oh, I wouldn't do that!"

Before he could pull me back, I caught the salty scent of the interior, like the wind on the
shore at Montauk. The interior walls glowed like abalone. There were six empty bunk beds
with silk sheets turned down, but there was no sign anyone had ever slept there. The place
was as sad as it was empty, but it so plainly felt like home to me.

Chiron put his hand on my shoulder and said, "Come along, Percy."

Most of the other cabins were crowded with campers.

Number five was bright red- it had a real nasty paint job as if the colour had been splashed on
with buckets and fists. The roof was lined with barbed wire. A stuffed wild boar's head hung
over the doorway, and its eyes seemed to follow me.

Inside I could see a bunch of mean-looking kids, both girls and boys, arm wrestling and
arguing with each other while rock music blared. The loudest was a girl maybe thirteen or
fourteen. She wore a large-sized Camp Half-Blood t-shirt under a camouflage jacket. Her
glare zeroed in on me and gave an evil sneer. She reminded me of an old bully, though the
camper girl was much bigger and tougher looking. Stringy brown hair fell around her head
like it couldn’t decide where to go.

"You said your name was Chiron. Are you really ..."

He smiled down at me. "The Chiron from the stories? Trainer of Hercules and all that? Yes,
Percy, I am."

"But, shouldn't you be dead?"

Chiron paused as if the question intrigued him. "I honestly don't know about ‘should be.’ The
truth is, I can't be dead. You see, aeons ago the gods granted my wish. I could continue the
work I loved. I could be a teacher of heroes as long as humanity needed me. I gained much
from that wish... and I gave up much. But I'm still here, so I can only assume I'm still
needed."

I thought about being a teacher for three thousand years. I loved teaching, I wanted to be one
and influence the next generation for the better, but for so long?

"Doesn't it ever get monotonous?"

"I suppose," he said. "Horribly depressing, at times, but never truly boring."

"Why depressing?"
Chiron seemed to turn hard of hearing again.

"Oh, look," he said absently. "Annabeth is waiting for us."

Blondie from before was sitting and reading a book. This was Annabeth Chase, Hero and
Architect of Olympus, not just some punk angsty twelve-year-old snot-nosed brat. Don’t
snark off at this one for being rude to you, Ophelia.

When we reached her, she looked me over critically, like she was still thinking about how
much I drooled. Still rude, great.

I tried to see what she was reading, but I couldn't make out the title. For a second I thought I
had hit my head hard enough when getting to Camp that I shook off several years of training
to manage my dyslexia before I realised it wasn’t in English. The book was in Greek. There
were pictures of temples and statues and different kinds of columns, like those in an
architecture book. Knowing her, it probably was.

"Annabeth," Chiron said, "I have masters' archery class at noon. Would you take Percy from
here?"

"Yes, sir."

"Cabin eleven," Chiron told me, gesturing toward the doorway. "Make yourself at home."

Out of all the cabins, eleven looked the most like a regular old summer camp cabin, with the
emphasis on old. The threshold was worn down, the brown paint peeling. Over the doorway
was a caduceus. Inside, it was packed with people, both boys and girls, way more than the
number of bunk beds. Sleeping bags were spread all over on the floor. It looked like a gym
where the Red Cross had set up an evacuation centre. This wasn’t right.

Why haven’t they built a second story? Or expanded the cabin? Made a second one just for
minor gods children? Folks, we’ve seemed to have passed the unfortunate necessary side
effect of being a half-blood called being a child soldier to straight-up child neglect. What the
fuck?

Chiron didn't go in. The door was too low for him, but when the campers saw him they all
stood and bowed respectfully.

"Well, then," Chiron said. "Good luck, Percy. I'll see you at dinner."

He galloped away toward the archery range.

I wanted for him to come straight back here so I could yell him out. This is not how you take
care of children as their guardian. Truly, fuck you horse-man.

I turn back to the campers inside. They were no longer bowing and just staring at me
expectantly. I resisted the urge to stare back. Consciously stopping myself from biting my
lips, I gave an awkward wave of ‘hello’ to them and stepped inside.

Annabeth announced, "Percy Jackson, meet cabin eleven.”

"Regular or undetermined?" somebody asked.

I was about to reply for myself but Annabeth said, "Undetermined." I glared at her.

Everybody groaned.

A guy who was a little older than the rest came forward. "Now, now, campers. That's what
we're here for. Welcome, Percy."

I stared at him. Luke. The guy whose life I’m going to try and save. Oh shoot, I should make
a good first impression. He’s my soulmate according to the Fates for Olympus’ sake!

Instead, what came out of my mouth was, “An adult!”

Luke looked taken aback.

Fucking hell, Ophelia, you are an idiot of epic proportions. Save the situation, you idiot!

“Nobody’s explained what’s going on, to me, at all!” Ah-ha! Indignation, anger and
confusion. A perfect excuse and a reason to rant. “I mean, I have no idea what’s happening
and what this place is, and the only adults I’ve seen so far have been Chiron and Mr D who
haven’t answered any of my questions and didn’t let me even watch the orientation video!” I
was visibly frustrated with my circumstances, which also wasn’t a total lie. Not knowing all
the variables to a situation makes me antsy.

A flash of annoyance and anger appeared on the 19-year-old’s face before melting into one of
kindness and sympathy. Actually, the entire cabin seemed to be looking at me with a mixture
of shock and sympathy. Whoops, maybe I should wait until there’s nobody around next time.

“Hey it’s okay,” the blonde soothed, “I’m Luke, the councillor for this cabin. Don’t worry, I’ll
explain everything to you.”

This was the cue for the rest of the cabin to introduce themselves apparently. I got a loud,
clumsy chorus of “I’m Chris/Travis/Conner/Alabaster/Dana/Lilith/Ari/Kassandri,” and many
more names I didn’t pick up on.

I blinked. “Uh, hi? I’m Persephone, but call me Percy.”

I was silently digging my nails into my other wrist under my jacket. Too many people, too
many people, too many people! Please get me out of here!

Luke was nice enough to come to my rescue. “Come on, I’ll join your tour with Annabeth. I
can explain some things on the way.”

We walked out and I noticed that Annabeth was both blushing and glaring at me. Oh right, I
forgot she had a crush on Luke, which was a bit weird. Didn’t she have any other positive
interactions with older males to crush on?

"Come on." She grabbed my wrist and dragged me away.

I nearly yelled at her for touching me so abruptly without asking but she let go quickly
enough that all I did was cradle the violated limb with a glare.

When we were a few feet away, Annabeth said, "Jackson, you have to do better than that."

"What are you talking about?"

She rolled her eyes and mumbled under her breath, "I can't believe I thought you were the
one."

"What's your problem?" I was getting angry now. Why was she so rude?

"All I know is, I kill some monster-"

"Don't talk like that!" Annabeth told me. "You know how many kids at this camp wish they'd
had your chance?"

"To get killed?"

"To fight the Minotaur! What do you think we train for?"

“Annabeth! Stop it!” Luke stepped in, actually looking upset. “She has no idea what is going
on and I expected more from you! You should be more than wise enough to realise that
you’re being rude. Stop it with this quest obsession of yours, Thalia and I raised you better
than this!”

Holy shit. I felt like an intruder but I couldn’t seem to look away from this trainwreck. It was
always heavily implied in the books that there was a slight rift between Luke and Annabeth
before he betrayed the gods- but I didn’t expect it to be this bad! Bringing up Thalia? I have
work cut out for me if I’m to stop him from going all Sith before the summer ends.

Annabeth looked cowed, her face bright red.

Luke turned back to me, “I’m sorry about that, Percy. Come on, let’s get going.”

I nodded quickly. Yeah, please move on, I don’t wanna be in the middle of your personal
argument.

I only got a few steps before I remembered, “Uh, Luke, how was it that I fought a
mythological monster that was supposed to be dead?”

He gave me an encouraging smile at me before explaining, “Monsters don’t stay dead, they
disappear and reform in a pit called Tartarus. They eventually make their way back up to the
surface for us demi-gods to fight all over again.”

“An ugly cycle.”

There was bitterness on his face. “Yeah, yeah it is.” The words are said quietly, but it was
anything but a soft thing to know.
I quickly moved on and asked more questions. Luke was a good teacher and explained
everything really well, but I do suppose he’s had the practice considering he was the cabin
counsellor for cabin 11. I’m also happy that at least my more simple questions are being
answered by someone other than Mr ‘Ignore-all-my-questions’ Centaur.

Everything was going well until the Fire Nation attacked. Well, not the Fire Nation, but
someone from the Ares cabin.

A husky voice yelled out, "Well! A newbie!"

I looked over. The girl from the ugly red cabin who had sneered at me earlier was sauntering
towards us.

"Clarisse," Annabeth sighed. "Why don't you go polish your spear or something?"

"Sure, Miss Princess," the big girl said. "So I can run you through with it Friday night."

''Erre es korakas!" Annabeth spat, which I roughly understood was Greek for 'Go to the
crows!' I’m pretty sure it was a worse curse than it sounded. "You don't stand a chance."

"We'll pulverize you," Clarisse said, but her eyes twitched. Perhaps she wasn't sure she could
follow through on the threat.

She turned toward me. "Who's this little runt?"

"Percy Jackson," Annabeth said, "meet Clarisse, Daughter of Ares."

“I can introduce myself. Percy Jackson, nice to meet you.” I offered her a wave but I’m pretty
sure that she wouldn’t be as friendly.

Clarisse growled. "We got an initiation ceremony for newbies, Prissy."

"Percy," I corrected.

"Whatever. Come on, I'll show you."

"Clarisse-" Annabeth tried to say.

"Stay out of it, wise girl."

Wow, she’s pretty rude. At least she’s giving Annabeth a taste of her own medicine.

I was mildly indifferent to her right up to her grabbing me in a headlock.

Now, you might be thinking ‘oh, you don’t like her because she is hurting you.’ You’re
wrong. I don’t like her because she’s touching me. I may be a very affectionate and tactile
person, but touch me without consent? Especially in a moment where I’m already super
stressed? One full Autistic meltdown, coming up.

I barely registered that she was dragging me towards the bathroom.

I started to scream. Full-blown, screaming and raging- yelling like I was getting murdered
with a blunt knife. Kicking, punching, wriggling like an eel, I struggled. Tears began building
up in my eyes.

No. No. No! Too much, too much! Weird, foreign, not right! Off, off, OFF!

The last thing I registered was Clarisse’s whisper of “What the-?” and Luke’s continuous
commands for Clarrise to, “Let her go!”

I exploded after that.

Or, well, the bathroom exploded. Water went everywhere, all but drowning Clarisse as it
wrenched her away from me. A soaked Annabeth silently stood to the side, not interfering.
Luke and I were the only ones present left untouched by the toilet water.

I was sitting in a heap on the ground, silently sobbing. I rocked back and forth slightly,
stimming, as I tried desperately to compose myself before anyone else saw me.

Luke approached me with his hands up, calm as a cucumber as he tried to be as non-
threatening as possible. “Percy, shush, it’s okay. You’re at Camp Half-Blood remember? It’s
just me, Luke. Can you calm down for me please?”

I was barely able to gasp out, “Autistic… meltdown… Grover, please… Mãe…”

“Okay, it’s okay. I won’t touch you. Shush, I got you. You’re okay.”

I kept whimpering but started to calm down. My breaths were still bursting out in short pants,
but my head seemed to be screwing back on fast enough.

Luke was kneeling in front of me. “You okay now?”

I nod dully and he continues, “Do you want to go to the infirmary or go out of sight?”

A choice. I hate choices likes this one. I also hate people seeing me like this even though
logically I knew that I should go to the infirmary.

“Out of sight.”

He smiled reassuringly at me even though I could tell his eyes weren’t in it. One outstretched
hand beckoned me. “Can I touch you?”

I mulled that over for a few seconds before reaching out and grabbing his hand. He hauled
me to my feet and started directing me away from the flooded mess formerly called the
bathroom and towards the woods.

We were walking away when he swiftly twirled around and pinned Annabeth and Clarisse
with a chilling glare. “I expect you both to clean this up, and I’ll be discussing your
punishment with Chiron. What you two did was unacceptable. We are half-bloods- a family.
We help each other, not tear each other down. Outside of Camp, people’s lives will depend on
teamwork. If you can’t understand this then you are not ready to leave Camp.”
 I flinched at his voice- too loud- before continuing on my path to get away from any prying
eyes. I could tell from the corner of my eye that both girls looked embarrassed and guilty. I
don’t pity them; they brought this on themselves.

The woods were beautiful, as expected of a place tended to by nature spirits. I could tell the
stream running off in the distance was pure- pure enough for life to flourish. Everything was
blessedly cool and empty, almost serene for a world teetering on wilderness. So the question
was, why did I feel like I was forgetting something…?

Forever and a second had gone by when I realised I was alone in the woods with Luke
Castellan, son of Hermes, Traitor to the Olympians.

Oh fuck. Why me?

Chapter End Notes

Izzy: Since I deprived y’all of an update for a full week, I wrote you a chapter that’s
twice as long as the usual (5k words). You’re welcome! Hopefully, we can go back to
our usual update schedule.

Raven: WOOOO! NO! MORE! EXAMS! I’m screwed for chemistry, but the trade-off is
no more stress, so I’ll take what I can get.

Izzy: Yeah, freedom from exam stress is great! I totally failed Biology, but whatever,
I’m obviously an English kinda kid.

Raven: Well then, please enjoy, sit back, and if you have exams, don’t procrastinate as
we did. :)
 Here’s to funky apples and drugging people; I’m not a weirdo, I
swear!
Chapter Summary

I apply one of those things that all serious PJO fans think about; exactly how can I abuse
the hell out of this? Well, I’d like to once again reiterate that this is all for the fate of the
world. If that’s not a good cause, then what is?

Chapter Notes

Trigger Warning for Aftermath of a Meltdown/Panic Attack and Non-Consensual

Drugging.

Izzy: The lovely Monster Nest campfire song in italics is by my amazing friend
@PaxAmynta so go check her out!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

If you ever get stuck having to explain your mental health to someone you know is a traitor
and a spy, I recommend giving up all pretences and fucking booking it. Of course, I never
follow my own advice, so don’t look into it too closely.

“Is this better now, Percy?” Luke actually seemed concerned about me. He certainly sounded
like it.

“Five more minutes,” I say almost breathlessly.

Five more minutes to figure out a game-plan for ‘how the fuck do I play off my plotting for
his downfall as the lieutenant of the Titan King.’ How do I keep getting into situations like
this? Oh, right, my meltdown. Inconvenient fucker.

Time seemed to tick along so slowly I almost thought Kronos was up to his old tricks. Taking
a deep breath, then another, and another, I managed to calm myself. Right, if I want to
convince Luke that I have no idea about his ‘extracurricular activities’, I just have to
convince myself that I have no idea about them! Ha! The placebo effect at work. Is it
placebo? That is how it works, right?

“I’m sorry about that.” Did I know that logically I shouldn’t be apologising for this because
it’s not my fault? Yes. Did I have a lifetime of conditioning that makes me think I owe others
an apology and an explanation for my mental illness? Also yes. “I’m autistic. Everything was
already so much and she touched me without my permission, I’m sorry.”

“Hey, hey, hey, slow down,” Luke said, raising his hands as if he was trying to soothe a
startled horse. Gee, why does he keep doing that? “It’s okay, you did nothing wrong, stop
apologising.”

“Sorry,” I said out of reflex and then blushed.

He laughed softly at that, “It’s okay, y’know? This probably isn’t the first time we’ve had an
Autistic camper, though it is the first time in my years here. We’d be a horrible camp if we
could cater to ADHD kids but not Autistic ones, despite them being sister disorders. Does
Chiron know about this?”

“Yeah, he taught at my school for a while,” I replied.

“Wait, your school? Is that where he went for all this time?”

Shit. Luke didn’t know about this. This has heavy implications that I’m an important Big
Three kid. Fuck. I can practically see the little butterfly pop-up saying, ‘This action will have
consequences.’ Seriously, who left me in charge of something as important as saving the
world?

The Fates thought so, and if they thought so, then it must be true, right?

“Uh, yeah. He was my Latin teacher for some time. I was having fun driving him slowly
insane.”

Luke took the bait. “Slowly insane?” he repeated.

I gave him a shy smile. “I got annoyed at him treating me like a little kid and not taking me
seriously, so I started acting up to passively-aggressively drive him to insanity; stole his
doorstops, moved the bins which forced him to move in order to use them, asked for sources
on things that are common knowledge, wrote an essay four times longer than he asked for,
told him I wrote gullible on the ceiling so he wouldn’t look up but I actually did write it on
the ceiling. Little things.”

Luke seemed impressed, “What’s your favourite?”

“He told the class we needed to translate a written work into Latin but didn’t specify what
kind of written work, so I translated the Bee Movie script.”

He started chuckling at that, “The Bee Movie? That’s truly original. If I were a gambling
man, I wouldn’t hesitate to put my money on a new little sister.”

I beam at him for that and add, “If you think that’s mischief, you should see what I get up to
when I don’t bother being subtle.”

“I’d like to hear about those times, but later,” he said. “Are you calm now? Think we can
finish up our tour?”
I blink. Huh, I really do have ADHD, don’t I? Get me to start talking about something and I
forget about everything else.

“Yeah, we can continue the tour. Thanks, Luke.”

“Anytime, kid.” He lifted his arm then paused. “Can I ruffle your hair?”

I nod. “Yeah, you don’t have to ask permission for that again. I’m fine with that kinda touch,
I don’t like pats or random grabbing. Just make sure I see you approaching and notice you’re
going to do so.”

He grins and ruffles my hair, “Sure kiddo, I’ll remember. Now, let’s return to the tour.”

He showed me a few more places: the metal shop (where kids were forging their own
swords), the arts-and-crafts room (where satyrs were sandblasting a giant marble statue of a
goat-man), and the climbing wall, which actually consisted of two facing walls that shook
violently, dropped boulders, sprayed lava, and clashed together if you didn't get to the top fast
enough.

Overall? My child endangerment sirens are blaring at Alert Level Four but the small part of
me that never grew up was screaming about how cool everything is.

The second to last stop on our tour was me keeping a lookout while Luke stole me a sleeping
bag and some other basic supplies from the camp store. He was quick; in-and-out, definitely
a veteran at this.

“Here,” he handed me my new things.

“Thanks again,” I say for the umpteenth time, taking them.

“You really don’t need to keep thanking me,” he pointed out.

“Well, I’m going to keep doing it until I find a proper way to thank you for all you’ve done to
help me,” I say determinedly.

“I’m your cabin counsellor, this is my job.”

I frowned, “Well, Mãe and my therapist say that I have to properly thank people for helping
me.”

Suddenly, my brain managed to rub two sticks together and generate A Thought™ that isn’t
pure idiocy. If I had to put a finger on it, I’d just say it feels right.

“Oh!” I remember, reaching into my bag. “Mãe said that fruits are a good thank you gift.
Here.”

In my hands is the apple the Fates had given me forever and three days ago. My entire body
seemed to be singing with rightness, as if this moment truly was pure fate when he took it.
I tilted my head to the side in a way I knew made me look like a confused puppy trying to
learn human behaviour. I hate manipulation, I’m not a subtle person, I prefer the good ol’
fashioned hammer over the head method- but sometimes things have to be done whether you
like it or not.

He seemed a bit confused although he understood the spirit of the action. He grabbed it from
my hands, “You’re welcome, I suppose.”

He took a bite.

It was like electricity raced through me and a strange something clicked into place. This must
be what the Fates were going on about when they said my actions of Free-Will shall have just
as much impact as the machinations of Fate. Holy shit, I think I just fully ‘soul-bonded’ to
him.

Luke seemed to relax but didn’t otherwise react in any way to us fucking soul-bonding.

Oh good, that’s one potential disaster avoided.

He finished the apple off on the way back to Cabin Eleven and I had another mild internal
breakdown. With the way this is going, I’m probably going to be the youngest person ever to
die from stress.

“Uh, Luke?” I ask. “Since there’s a communal sleeping area, I think it’s best to warn you that
I get some really bad nightmares. Heck, dreams too. I get loud either way, so do you think the
infirmary has anything like melantonin to help suppress them? I had some medication for
emergencies but with everything, I lost it.”

When he looks back at me, there’s a furrow in his brow. “I don’t think the infirmary has
anything like that without needing a doctor’s note, but Clovis and Alabaster do. Clovis is the
son of Hypnos and Alabaster is Hecate’s eldest child at camp; they collaborate on potions
like this sometimes. It should stop your dreams unless it’s a very strong demi-god dream that
Morpheus or Hypnos themselves think you should see.”

A potion? Perfect- that’s a liquid, it’ll be so much easier to drug him like that. If I can isolate
Luke by removing Kronos’s dreams from the equation, I can make him vulnerable. As far as I
remember from Canon (or came up often enough in Fanon that it’s practically Canon),
Kronos had been punishing Luke for his failure with retrieving the Master Bolt with recurring
nightmares where he tortured him. If the dreams suddenly stop, best case scenario, Luke
thinks that Kronos has discarded him for his failure despite promising to not think of him as
disposable like the Olympians do, causing him to be bitter at Kronos instead. Worst case
scenario; I have no idea, I haven’t thought that far ahead.

Back at cabin eleven, everybody was talking and horsing around, waiting for dinner. For the
first time, I noticed that a lot of the campers had similar features: sharp noses, upturned
eyebrows, mischievous smiles. They were the kind of kids that teachers would peg as
troublemakers. Hermes kids.
Thankfully, nobody paid much attention to me as I walked over to my spot on the floor and
plopped down with my minotaur horn. I set up my sleeping bag and made sure that my stuff
was hidden and secure so no Hermes’ spawn thinks that rooting through my stuff is a good
idea. That would be a bad thing; I have my notebook with all my notes and theories about
this world and its future in there.

A pair of kids stop by me. One is a tired-looking blond around 14 years old, and the other is a
strong looking brunette of maybe 15 or 16 years old with runes embroidered down on his
shirt sleeves. They must be Clovis and Alabaster. Wow, the cowlick really is prominent.

“Luke said you needed a dreamless sleep potion?” Alabaster asked.

“Uh, yeah, I do.”

“Why?” Clovis managed to sleepily mumble.

Oi, rude! Did nobody ever teach you not to pry? “I get pretty bad nightmares. PTSD stuff. I
don’t really wanna talk about it.” For added effect, I twiddled with the sleeping bag zipper.

Alabaster nods, “Of course. These potions are pretty strong stuff; we don’t want them to be
handed out like candies.”

He hands me a vial, “Just a single drop a day will do. Don’t take more than 3 drops- we don’t
need any coma patients again.”

That ‘again’ disturbs me. “Okay. Anything I should avoid taking with it? Like, should I mix it
with a drink and food or just take it straight?”

“Either way is fine, but don’t mix it with ambrosia.”

“Got it! Thank you both so much for this,” I tell them.

“It’s fine,” Alabaster said, “see you at dinner.”

They walk away, Clovis heavily leaning on Alabaster, but neither of them seems to mind.
Huh, didn’t know they were such good friends.

A horn blew in the distance. Somehow, I knew it was from a conch shell, even though I'd
never heard one before. Freaky.

Luke yelled, "Eleven, fall in!"

The whole cabin, about thirty of us, filed into the commons yard. We lined up in order of
seniority, so of course, I was dead last. Campers came from the other cabins, too, except for
the three empty cabins at the end, and cabin eight, which had looked normal in the daytime
but was now starting to glow silver as the sun went down.
We marched up the hill to the mess hall pavilion. Satyrs joined us from the meadow. Naiads
emerged from the canoeing lake. A few other girls came out of the woods- and when I say
out of the woods, I mean straight out of the woods. I saw one girl, about nine or ten years old,
melt from the side of a maple tree and come skipping up the hill.

In all, there were maybe a hundred campers, a few dozen satyrs, and a dozen assorted wood
nymphs and naiads.

At the pavilion, torches blazed around the marble columns. A central fire burned in a bronze
brazier the size of a bathtub. Each cabin had its own table, covered in white cloth trimmed in
purple. Four of the tables were empty, but Cabin Eleven’s was way overcrowded. I almost sat
on the ground but Travis and Conner scooched over and patted the space between them.
Aww, that’s nice of them.

I saw Grover sitting at table twelve with Mr D, a few satyrs, and a couple of plump blond
boys who looked just like Mr D. Chiron stood to one side, the picnic table being way too
small for a centaur.

Annabeth sat at table six with a bunch of serious-looking athletic kids, all with her grey eyes
and honey blonde hair.

Clarisse sat behind me at Ares's table. She'd apparently gotten over being hosed down
because she was laughing and belching right alongside her friends.

Finally, Chiron pounded his hoof against the marble floor of the pavilion, and everybody fell
silent.

He raised a glass. "To the gods!"

Everybody else raised their glasses and I quickly copied them. "To the gods!"

Wood nymphs came forward with platters of food: grapes, apples, strawberries, cheese, fresh
bread, and yes, barbecue!

My glass was empty, but Luke told me, "Speak to it. Whatever you want- nonalcoholic, of
course."

I squinted at my cup. “Breadsticks?”

My cup was filled with breadsticks.

The entire table seems to still and stare. Luke was spluttering, “I- What? How did you-?
What?”

“You said anything.” I shrugged.

Travis high-fived me and Conner immediately filled his cup with ice-cream. This loophole is
totally not going to last long.

“Blue Mountain Dew.” I changed my ‘drink’ after dumping the breadsticks on my plate.
"Here you go, Percy," Conner said, handing me a platter of smoked brisket.

I loaded my plate with a mixture of cheeses, pieces of bread, and barbeque- avoiding all fruits
like a plague.

“Percy.” Luke frowned at my plate. “You need fruits too.”

“Fruits don’t go with lunch,” I reasoned. “They’re desserts. Besides, I hate their texture.”

I noticed everybody getting up, carrying their plates toward the fire in the centre of the
pavilion. Right, I need to burn some food.

"Come on," Luke told me.

As I got closer, I saw that everyone was taking a portion of their meal and dropping it into the
fire, the ripest straw-berry, the juiciest slice of beef, the warmest, most buttery roll.

Luke murmured in my ear, "Burnt offerings for the gods. They like the smell."

“Why?”

His look warned me not to take this lightly, but I couldn't help wondering why an immortal,
all-powerful being would like the smell of burning food.

Luke approached the fire, bowed his head, and tossed in a cluster of fat red grapes. "Hermes."

I was next.

I silently threw some cheese and bread in. ‘Poseidon. Hestia,’ I projected.

When I caught a whiff of the smoke, I didn't gag.

It smelled nothing like burning food. It smelled of hot chocolate and fresh-baked brownies,
hamburgers on the grill and wildflowers, and a hundred other good things that shouldn't have
gone well together, but did. I could almost believe the gods could live off that smoke.

When we sat back down again, I thumbed the vial from Alabaster and Clovis open. I
pretended to let a drop fall into my cup but caught it with my powers at the last minute.
Cupping the drink with both hands a bit above the rim, I faked a sip so I could hide the fact
that I was lifting the drop out of my drink.

In the same motion, I forcefully tipped Kassandri’s juice over; her elbow was right next to it
and she was gesturing about something or another. Everyone turned to her when she yelped
and that was a distraction good enough for me to get the potion drop into Luke’s soda.

Fucking hell, I swear if some random blessing of Hermes’ popped out right now…

I tensed as he drank it, making sure to train my eyes on my own drink. Holy shit, I just
drugged someone. It’s for his own good, but still! I just fucking roofied him. This is illegal.
Oh, I’m in the deep end now! What’ll Mãe say?
When everybody had finished eating their meals, Chiron pounded his hoof again for our
attention.

Mr D got up with a huge sigh. "Yes, I suppose I'd better say hello to all you brats. Well, hello.
Our activities director, Chiron, says the next Capture-The-Flag is Friday. Cabin Five
presently holds the laurels."

A bunch of ugly cheering rose from the Ares table.

"Personally," Mr D continued, "I couldn't care less, but congratulations. Also, I should tell
you that we have a new camper today. Poppy Johnson."

Chiron murmured something.

"Er, Percy Jackson," Mr D corrected. "That's right. Hurrah, and all that. Now run along to
your silly campfire. Go on."

Everybody cheered. We all headed down toward the amphitheatre, where Apollo's cabin led a
singalong.

We sang camp songs about the gods and ate s' mores and joked around, and the funny thing
was, I didn't feel that anyone was staring at me anymore. I felt that I was home. My favourite
camp song was the Monster Nest one.

“We went to the monster nest,

Where the sword and the shield lay rest.
The big drakoon in the light of the moon was doing his fiery best!
The godling fell out of their perch,
And fell on all of the merch.
The drakon sneezed and fell on its knees
But what became of the Godling? Godling Godling Godling…”

It was rather amusing to see the absolute chaos called the Ares Cabin chanting ‘Godling’
completely out of time to what the Apollo Cabin was beautifully singing.

Later in the evening, when the sparks from the campfire were curling into a starry sky, the
conch horn blew again, and we all filed back to our cabins. I didn't realize how exhausted I
was until I collapsed on my borrowed sleeping bag.

My fingers curled around the Minotaur's horn. I thought about my mom, but I had good
thoughts: her smile, the bedtime stories she would read me when I was a kid, the way she
would tell me not to let the bedbugs bite…

My fingers curled around my teddy, drawing him close to my body. I was so busy all day I
barely missed my Mãe. That wasn’t right; She was a hostage in the underworld and I’m in
Camp drugging my soulmate and singing campfire songs. My last thoughts were to wish
upon a star that she was here.

When I closed my eyes, I fell asleep instantly.

 That was my first day at Camp Half-Blood.

Chapter End Notes

Raven: Sup, the world seems a lot brighter now that my free time’s come back. Izzy and
I are probably going to pump out another chapter this week, so look forward to that!

Izzy: I’d say I have more free time but, like the dumbass I am, I started 3 WIPs this
weekend and only finished one (Percy Jackson, son of Sally Jackson on my account).
Do you guys prefer longer chapters once a week or shorter ones twice a week? I can
write a 4-5k chapter in 3 days and a 3k chapter in one night so...

Raven: I keep telling her it’ll be weird to have the length of chapters all over the place,
especially with our frequent updates. So what d’you guys think?
 Camp days are, um, interesting days.
Chapter Summary

Time goes on like it always does, and in a world like ours, everybody has their own role
to play. Some roles are bigger than others. Much bigger.

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

In the end, Camp was way cooler than my first impression.

My days were busier than I was used to and I often found myself having to isolate myself so I
didn’t get too overwhelmed. On the other hand, I’m now on good terms with the naiads that
live in the lake since I keep hiding at the bottom of it. They call me ‘My Lady’ and
‘Princess,’ which strokes my ego like I'm an overgrown cat. I never really did fully get rid of
my princess phase…

Bow to me! Ahem.

I had made friends at camp too. From the Hermes Cabin, I’ve helped the Stoll brothers steal
some goblets from dinner and fill them with gummy worms to leave in people’s beds
(unfortunately the goblets only do edible summons). I get along with Kassandri who has that
type of humour everyone laughs along to- she’s a daughter of Iris. Luke meanwhile seems to
have taken me completely under his wing (he hovers like a mother hen, it’s hilarious).
Outside of the Hermes Cabin, I’ve actually made friends with Katie Gardener after I asked if
they had any peppermint or basil seeds since I love growing them, and I’ve also made friends
with, surprisingly, Drew Tanaka.

Drew’s surprisingly lovely to talk to if a bit snobby on occasion. She was so offended at my
wardrobe- by which I meant the lack thereof- that when I came into the Aphrodite Cabin to
borrow a belt, I left with a whole new wardrobe. She’s pretty much nothing like Canon
implies, which I think has something to do with Piper’s unreliable narrator viewpoint. We
bonded over a similar love of couture fashion and she even compliments me on my ‘soft’
aesthetic. Apparently I have an aesthetic now, woohoo!

Speaking of which, where were these kinds of people my whole life? No, seriously, where
were they?

I was already mostly fluent in Ancient Greek due to my past life’s Bachelor in Classical
Studies and this life’s self-studying, so I was placed in an advanced class in the mornings
with Annabeth. It went about as well as someone who was a forerunner in taking up Luke’s
time and attention can be.
Simply put, she tries to outdo me, I get offended and try to outdo her out of spite, and at the
end of the day, we bicker like Zeus’s Olympian children. Considering this includes Ares and
Athena, that’s a lot of bickering.

I loved being able to just read Sappho for a whole hour without anyone complaining though.
It’s a silver lining, but I’m definitely still pissed at Annabeth for not even trying to get to
know me better.

The rest of the day I spent rotating through outdoor activities, looking for any hidden skills.

I’m apparently much better at archery than Canon Jackson with my ability to hit the target
and all, but nowhere good enough for it to be my main weapon. If someone hands me a gun
though, I’m a fuckmothering demon. Unfortunately, neither Luke nor Chiron seemed to trust
me enough to let me use a gun as my main weapon if there are other options. Shame, I
could’ve taken the world by storm. Who needs to get killed from up close when you can kill
from far away?

Foot-racing was a disaster with the wood-nymph instructors left me in the dust. Arts and
Crafts are fine if I’m left alone to sew and knit, but I can’t paint or carve without making a
mess. Music was terrible and I’ve been kindly informed I’m tone-deaf. Apparently the most I
can do is rock-out on a drum kit, but nothing else.

Wrestling and hand-to-hand weren’t the best. Luke had been personally teaching me how to
do both since I don’t like others touching me without my permission; though the point that in
fights I had to learn not to panic when others touch me had been thoroughly stressed. Luke
ruffles my hair whenever I land a hit on him, good or not, and I’ve got suspicions that he’s
trying to Pavlovian train me.

I tried to use a spear but immediately failed. My spear tip dipped into the ground so I tripped,
and by the end of it, I had somehow gotten myself injured. My arm had a shallow cut- which
hurt like a bitch- and Luke immediately began hovering and mother henning me. I had to let
him drag me into the infirmary.

For those who don’t know, imagine swinging around a heavy pole quicker than your
opponent can stab you with a lighter sword. I just didn’t have the muscle mass for it, so that
option was right out.

The only two things that I’ve been able to do was Canoeing and Creative Writing. I won
every canoe race I was in. Granted, I was cheating by using my powers, but I still won.
Creative Writing was my jam; I was way less dyslexic than my peers and I was an actual
writer in my past life, so I could churn out essay after poem after short story- unlike the rest
of the campers.

Chiron seems to think that I may be a child of Apollo and has already booked me for a first-
aid lesson to check if I’m any good at healing. I have no idea how to tell him that I once
fainted during my first dissection in Biology.

Luke, Travis, and Conner seemed to think I was their little sister. Everyone else seemed to
think I was an Aphrodite kid, except for one. Annabeth had straight-up asked me if I was
possibly her sister when she caught me reading a book in English.

All of them are wrong.

Thursday afternoon, three days after I'd arrived at Camp Half-Blood, I had my first sword-
fighting lesson. Everybody from cabin eleven gathered in the big circular arena, where Luke
would be our instructor.

We started with basic stabbing and slashing, using some straw-stuffed dummies in Greek
armour. I guess I did okay. At least, I understood what I was supposed to do and my reflexes
were good.

I startled everyone when Luke told me to grab a blade and I just yanked on my necklace,
unsheathing Riptide before copying an opening stance he had shown us. There were a few
moments of silence from everyone until Kassandri broke it.

“Nice monster opener.”

Kassandri was a bit weird for this era’s humour, but she fit in right in my Gen Z mind.

“Thanks, I stole it,” I replied reflexively.

Somebody chuckled but nobody asked any further. Is this some unspoken social thing with
half-bloods, or some normal thing with humans in general?

We moved on to duelling in pairs. Luke told me I would be his partner.

"Good luck," one of the campers told me. "Luke's the best swordsman in the last three
hundred years."

I already knew that; I’m his hand-to-hand sparring partner and am fully aware of how much
he could kick my ass. It was just a matter of where, when, and how badly.

Luke showed me thrusts and parries and shield blocks the hard way. With every swipe, I got a
little more battered and bruised. "Keep your guard up, Percy," he'd say, then whap me in the
ribs with the flat of his blade. "No, not that far up!" Whap! "Lunge!" Whap! "Now, back!"
Whap!

By the time he called a break, I was soaked in sweat. Gross. Everybody swarmed the drinks
cooler, but I went straight to my lifted dinner goblet. I had figured out how to fill it with
ocean water and have been using it as a less dangerous form of nectar. With a sigh, I ordered
a refill before dumping it over my head.

Instantly, I felt better. Strength surged back into my arms. The sword didn't feel so awkward.

"Okay, everybody circle up!" Luke ordered. "If Percy doesn't mind, I want to give you all a
little demo."

Great, I thought. Let's all watch Percy get pounded. The Cabin Eleven kids gathered around.
They were suppressing smiles. I figured they'd been in my shoes before and couldn't wait to
see how Luke used me for a punching bag. He told everybody he was going to demonstrate a
disarming technique: how to twist the enemy's blade with the flat of your own sword so that
he had no choice but to drop his weapon.

"This is difficult," he stressed. "I've had it used against me. No laughing at Percy, now. Most
swordsmen have to work years to master this technique."

Hey, isn’t this? Oh shoot, this where Canon Jackson disarmed Luke! I can’t do that- I can
barely fight, and I have noodle arms!

He demonstrated the move on me in slow motion. Sure enough, the sword clattered out of my
hand.

"Now in real-time," he said after I'd retrieved my weapon. "We keep sparring until one of us
pulls it off. Ready, Percy?" I nodded, and Luke came after me.

I barely kept him from getting a shot at the hilt of my sword. My senses seemed to focus. I
saw his attacks coming. I countered. I stepped forward and tried a thrust of my own. Luke
deflected it easily, but I saw a change in his face. His eyes narrowed, though there was a hint
of pride, and he started to press me with more force.

My arm was tiring. I knew it was only a matter of seconds before Luke took me down, so I
figured, why the fuck not? I tried the disarming manoeuvre.

My blade hit the base of Luke's and I twisted, putting my whole weight into a downward
thrust.

Clang!

Luke's sword rattled against the stones. The tip of my blade was an inch from his undefended
chest.

I stared at my own blade. I just fucking did that. Holy fuck.

I wanted to pass out already.

The other campers were silent.

I dropped my own sword in panic and started squeaking out apologies.

For a moment, Luke was too stunned to speak.

Then he grabbed my arms to stop me from continuing my panic- making me flinch and go
silent- and said, “Sorry? Percy, that was amazing! Can you do it again?”

His eyes were shining brilliantly and he was smiling like he was actually happy for once. His
whole being seemed to brighten like the fucking sun or something- I could only nod dumbly.

Oh fuck. I like him. Not like like him- but I truly like him as a person, not just as a life I need
to save or as my favourite fictional character. Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m screwed.
I wasn’t able to do the sword trick again. Maybe it was the fact that my Saltwater Power-up
Level 3 timed out or maybe it was because I was internally freaking out. Whatever it was, I’ll
never know.

After my first sword lesson, I had just escaped the all-seeing eye of Sauron, also known as
Luke, when Kassandri and Yasmine (who was unclaimed) had to be stopped from making
flower crowns with poison ivy and taken to the infirmary. Ouch, who would even do that?
Poor Luke has Tired Single Dad Energy™ and looked like he needed a fucking 24-hour nap.

I sat down by the lake with my ‘Future Notes Notebook,’ busy entering my newest page;

IDK What day it is but like,,, summer.

How to roofie Lucy: *Don’t evaporate it, it needs to be liquid.

Put in soup and drinks at dinner. Give in drinks after dinner if during dinner’s too suspicious.
Evaporate and Condense into the mouth at night if there is no chance before bedtime.
If it’s not liquid, he wakes up with night terrors. Made that mistake ONCE
If unable to put into mouth at night for whatever reason, evaporate TWO DROPS and
administer through breathing.*

So I fucking,,,, caught plato feels. fuck.

Unfortunately, I’m affectionate and attached. This may be a Problem.

Ppl think i’m some Ravenclaw, bitch I wish I was Jared, 19.

My mind is chanting “You’re not Immune to Propaganda!” whenever dummy thicc uwu
Chiwon is around. Mood.

Sauron-Lucy-Lucifer has overheard me singing Hamilton and idk how to be That Bitch with
the tiktok time travel meme. I said that it was some old poetry I know.

I have one brain cell, pray that I don’t yeet myself into the void.

Signing off,
One (1) dumb bih

My notebook is the weirdest mix of Latin (*) and stale crack memes, all written in the Star
Wars Aurebesh alphabet so that even if people read it, they wouldn’t be able to understand a
thing.

I was looking back on my notes on the Capture-The-Flag game that’s supposed to be

happening tomorrow when Grover approached me for the first time since I woke up at Camp.

We sat on the pier, watching the naiads perform the fine art of underwater basket-weaving
until I worked up the nerve to ask Grover how his conversation had gone with Mr D.

He beamed. "Perfect!" he said. "It was great!"

"So your career's still on track?"

He glanced at me. "Chiron t-told you that I wanted a searcher's license?"

“Yeah, sorta.”

He did not ask for clarification on that ‘sorta.’ “Mr D and the Council of Cloven Elders
allowed me to get my searcher’s license! They said I could start searching at the start of the
new school year!”

The new school year. That meant he’d still be here when I returned from my quest! Oh thank
goodness, I don’t have to meddle too much to keep him from being eaten during the Sea of
Monsters plot.

“That’s great!” I drew him into a bear hug, beaming.

We talked about canoeing and swordplay for a while, then debated the pros and cons of the
different gods. Finally, I asked him about the four empty cabins.

"Number eight, the silver one, belongs to Artemis," he said. "She vowed to be a maiden
forever. So of course, no kids. The cabin is, you know, honorary. If she didn't have one, she'd
be mad."

"Yeah, okay. But the other three, the ones at the end. Are those the Big Three?"

Grover tensed. We were getting close to a touchy subject.

"No. One of them, number two, is Hera's," he said. "That's another honorary thing. She's the
goddess of marriage, so of course she wouldn't go around having affairs with mortals. That's
her husband's job. When we say the Big Three, we mean the three powerful brothers, the sons
of Kronos."

"Zeus, Poseidon, Hades."

"Right. You know. After the great battle with the Titans, they took over the world from their
dad and drew lots to decide who got what."

"Zeus got the sky," I recited. "Poseidon the sea, Hades the Underworld."

"Uh-huh."

"Hades doesn't have a cabin here," I stated.

"No. He doesn't have a throne on Olympus, either. He sort of does his own thing down in the
Underworld. If he did have a cabin here..." Grover shuddered. "Well, it wouldn't be pleasant.
Let's leave it at that."

"But Zeus and Poseidon had many children. Why are their cabins empty?"
Grover shifted his hooves uncomfortably. "About sixty years ago, after World War II, the Big
Three agreed they wouldn't sire any more heroes. Their children were just too powerful. They
were affecting the course of human events too much, causing too much carnage. World War
II, you know, was basically a fight between the sons of Zeus and Poseidon on one side and
the sons of Hades on the other. The winning side, Zeus and Poseidon, made Hades swear an
oath with them: no more affairs with mortal women. They all swore on the River Styx."

Thunder boomed.

"Have they kept their oath?” I asked.

Grover's face darkened. "Seventeen years ago, Zeus fell off the wagon. There was this TV
starlet with a big fluffy eighties hairdo- he just couldn't help himself. When their child was
born, a little girl named Thalia... Well, the River Styx is serious about promises. Zeus himself
got off easy because he's immortal, but he brought a terrible fate on his daughter."

"It wasn’t her fault for being born," I looked down at my notebook. “I didn’t ask to be born,”
I whispered.

Grover hesitated. "Percy, children of the Big Three have powers greater than other half-
bloods. They have a strong aura, a scent that attracts monsters. When Hades found out about
the girl, he wasn't too happy about Zeus breaking his oath. Hades let the worst monsters out
of Tartarus to torment Thalia. A satyr was assigned to be her keeper when she was twelve,
but there was nothing he could do. He tried to escort her here with a couple of other half-
bloods she'd befriended. They almost made it. They got all the way to the top of that hill."

He pointed across the valley, to the pine tree where I'd fought the minotaur.

"All three Kindly Ones were after them, along with a horde of hellhounds. They were about
to be overrun when Thalia told her satyr to take the other two half-bloods to safety while she
held off the monsters. She was wounded and tired, and she didn't want to live like a hunted
animal. The satyr didn't want to leave her, but he couldn't change her mind, and he had to
protect the others. So Thalia made her final stand alone, at the top of that hill. As she died,
Zeus took pity on her. He turned her into that pine tree. Her spirit still helps protect the
borders of the valley. That's why the hill is called Half-Blood Hill."

I stared at the pine in the distance.

‘Don’t worry, cousin. I’ll free you,’ I promised.

I watched Percy Jackson spar with Yasmine. Occasionally yelling instructions and
encouragement from the sidelines, I observed the newest two Cabin Eleven campers. They
were well matched, despite Yasmine having almost a year more of experience on Percy. She
truly was a natural at this.

Percy Jackson was a bite-sized enigma that I was fond of. Possibly too fond.
She had appeared during a hurricane, and that seemed apt from her behaviour. She was a
curious whirlwind that reminded him of when Annabeth was little, with a stubbornness that
could outmatch even Thalia. She regularly did strange and almost impossible things that left
everyone baffled.

When I had first carried her to the infirmary when she first arrived, I expected her to be the
average camper. That didn’t happen.

Percy has managed to turn my world on its head.

Annabeth was jealous of her, despite my insistence that she would always be my little sister
and my family, and was acting almost cruelly. Percy didn’t seem to mind, but I was still
annoyed at the tension between them.

After Percy’s meltdown, something in me seemed to grow in her direction. Perhaps it was the
fact that she needed help from an adult, or maybe it was the way she reminded me of Thalia
and Annabeth before Chiron, the gods, everything seemed to corrupt them. She was a
drenched kitten; confused at everything, irritated easily, yet excitedly bouncing on her toes at
the strangest of things.

I thought of her as a new little sister right up until the minute she beamed at me when she
managed to hit me during hand-to-hand, and I looked back at her with pride. It felt like I had
almost adopted her and was now her mentor.

Adopt… it seems like I have a child now.

I know a lot of campers see me as a father or big brother figure, and that I’m a way too tired
camp counsellor running after danger-magnet children. A kid as chaotic as Percy would mean
grey hairs before thirty. I know why Chiron puts us in bright orange t-shirts; we keep fucking
wandering off to almost get murdered and he is a two-thousand-year-old stressed babysitter
chugging coffee trying to keep us all alive.

But none of that occupied my mind for longer than a couple of seconds. No- I had something
bigger to deal with.

My nightmares from Kronos have stopped.

The bastard had discarded me just like the gods did when I didn’t complete his quest. After
failing his quest, not even singular torture sessions served as punishment anymore- just
continuous nightmares about Kronos torturing me. Soon after, one last order came through,
then nothing. Not a single dream, not even a strange feeling to let me know he’s still
watching.

Compared to the past, my dreams have been almost blessedly empty.

I should have known, I’m a son of Hermes after all. He was only using me the whole time. I
should’ve never trusted someone whose nickname is ‘The Crooked One.’

“Luke!” Percy called, breaking me out of my thoughts.

 She bounced up to me and- to my surprise- threw her arms around me in a hug. “Did you
see? I did the disarming manoeuvre again!”

I chucked, ruffling her hair, “Good job, kiddo!”

She grinned at me again and ran off to rejoin her friends.

I’m not going to fail her as I did with Thalia, nor will I let Chiron and the gods influence her
like a pawn as they have managed to do with Annabeth. This is my kid, and I’m not letting
her be manipulated like I was. She will learn from my mistakes.

‘No,’ I thought as I watched her laugh, ‘I won’t let her turn out like me. She will be the
opposite.’

Chapter End Notes

Raven: Here you guys go, the obligatory slice-of-life chapter with important plot-points
thrown in for extra spice. Lemme tell you guys, neither Izzy nor I have any idea on how
to properly write Luke. If you see any glaring flaws from his pov, please, do leave a
comment.

Izzy: I left Raven alone to plan the Capture The Flag chapter but she wrote like,,, 10k
worth of content in the outline and this is why there’s a chapter without a plot that’s just
focusing on character development. Yeah I was sooo tired when I wrote this chapter -
you can tell with my dumbass meme diary entry - please tell us if we fucked up

Raven: In my defence, it was either write everything down or never write it down and
come up with an entirely new plot the next day

Izzy: I said plan ONE chapter. Not three!

Raven: I did plan one chapter; not my fault our fic requires there to be more content to
make it different from canon.

Izzy: stfu, I’m tired. Lemme go ham on writing then disappear back into my cave called
a ‘bedroom’

Raven: You mean you didn’t already?

 I fucking despise Capture the Flag
Chapter Summary

Everything hasn’t deviated from the plot too badly- so naturally, I have to correct that.

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Capture the Flag was tonight and I’m dreading it so fucking much.

I have been mentally preparing for it all week and I still really didn’t want to be called out as
a daughter of Poseidon- isolated just for being born of a broken oath. I was already mourning
lost friendships despite knowing that I made these friendships by being myself. I suppose I’ll
have confirmation later- if they’re my real friends they wouldn’t care less about parentage.

Travis suddenly looped his arm around my shoulders in a half hug. His big brother instincts
must have notified him that something was wrong from the way he was looking at me in
concern. “You okay Perce? You’ve looked sad all afternoon.”

“It’s just an irrational depressive episode, I’ll probably be better tomorrow.” I try to wave him
off, but all it does is make Conner also pay attention to me.

“A depressive episode? Are you alright? Shouldn’t you be taking antidepressants then?” he
asked.

My irritation swelled for a second before I tapered it down by reminding myself that these
two little kids were just worried about me. I shouldn’t snap at people for being concerned.

“They’re common. I get them every few weeks. No, I won’t take antidepressants, I’m not
compatible with the common brands and the obscure ones are too expensive. Either way,
they’ll just make things worse,” I explain. “Don’t make a big fuss, I’ve been dealing with this
for years.”***

Travis made eye contact and I had to force myself not to squirm at it. “Okay, but you’ll tell us
if it gets worse, right? Or at least you’ll tell Luke.”

“Yeah guys, I will.” I gave them what I thought was a reassuring smile, but their faces told
me I had failed horribly at it.

I turn back to my dinner just in time to hear Chiron blow the conch horn that signifies that it
was time for Capture the Flag. My stomach dropped. I wanted to cry but instead, I stood
silently at my table.
Campers yelled and cheered as Annabeth and two of her siblings ran into the pavilion
carrying a silk banner. It was about ten feet long, glistening grey, with a painting of a barn
owl above an olive tree. From the opposite side of the pavilion, Clarisse and her buddies ran
in with another banner, of identical size, but gaudy red, painted with a bloody spear and a
boar's head.

I turned to Luke and yelled over the noise, "So, those are the flags?"

"Yep."

"Do Ares and Athena always lead the teams?"

"Not always," he said. "But often enough."

"What happens if one wins the game?"

He grinned. "You'll see. First, we have to get the flag."

"Whose side are we on?"

He gave me a sly look as if he knew something I didn't- which he didn’t. The scar on his face
made him look almost evil in the torchlight, something that made me shiver and turn away.

"We've made a temporary alliance with Athena. Tonight, we’re getting the flag from Ares,
and you are going to help."

The teams were announced. Athena had made an alliance with Apollo and Hermes, the two
biggest cabins. Apparently, privileges had been traded-shower times, chore schedules, the
best slots for activities in order to win support.

Ares had allied themselves with everybody else: Dionysus, Demeter, Aphrodite, and
Hephaestus. Demeter’s kids had the edge with the terrain but they weren't the most
aggressive, though I knew from my experiences with Katie that they were badass with traps
and poisons. The Dionysus’ twins were great athletes, but if you separate them, they panic
and fold. Aphrodite’s children are completely harmless until you piss them off, so I wasn’t
very worried about them. I've never seen a group of people emulate ‘do no harm but take no
shit’ more. Hephaestus’s four kids were stronger than some of Ares’ kids, and they would be
a problem. That, of course, left Ares's cabin: a dozen of the biggest, ugliest, meanest kids on
Long Island, or anywhere else on the planet.

Chiron hammered his hoof on the marble.

"Heroes!" he announced. "You know the rules. The creek is the boundary line. The entire
forest is fair game. All magic items are allowed. The banner must be prominently displayed,
and have no more than two guards. Prisoners may be disarmed, but may not be bound or
gagged. No killing or maiming is allowed. I will serve as the referee and battlefield medic.
Arm yourselves!"

He spread his hands, and the tables were suddenly covered with equipment: helmets, bronze
swords, spears, oxhide shields coated in metal.
Being 4’10” and skinny, I had the advantage of grabbing the best armour before the rest of
the crowd swarmed the table. With a quick glance back to Luke, who was first helping the
others put on their own armour, I snatched him some armour too.

I attempted to put my armour on by myself but ended up having to ask Luke for help when
my hair got caught in the straps. He started laughing when he spotted me grumpily pouting
with my bracers on upside down and my hair knotted in the breastplate straps, but he
managed to smother it when I told him I wouldn’t grab armour for him next time if he kept
laughing.

Annabeth spotted us two together and came over, something sour written all over on her face.
“Jackson, you’re on border patrol by the creek. Where’s your shield?”

I scowled in return. “I have noodle arms, how am I supposed to lift one up? Besides, I have
no training with a shield. I’ve only been at camp for a week!”

She huffed, “Fine. Don’t get caught by Clarisse’s spear if you’re in the water.” Her face
softens completely when she turns to Luke even though he’s frowning at us both. “You know
the plan Luke, good luck.”

She strode off, yelling, "Blue team, forward!"

The team cheered and shook their swords as they followed her down the path to the south
woods. The red team yelled taunts at us as they headed off toward the north.

Luke was still standing with me, “Why can’t you two get along?”

“Hey,” I protested, “I’m trying! She just dislikes me and is always being rude!”

He sighs, and it’s like he’s suddenly aged twenty years. “I know, kid. Let’s catch up.” We
went after the rest of the group.

It was a warm, sticky night. The woods were dark, with fireflies popping in and out of view.
Annabeth stationed me next to a little creek that gurgled over some rocks, then she and the
rest of the team scattered into the trees.

Standing there alone, with my big blue-feathered helmet and my slightly-too-big armour, I
felt like an idiot. Curse my tininess, none of the camp armours fit me properly, and none of
the ones that were a close fit wasn’t broken in so they pinched. I had my hand on Riptide,
which was in still its pendant form.

Right, I’m at the creek. I haven’t majorly pissed off anyone so I shouldn’t get attacked, right?
I tried to pay attention, I really did, but then I remembered that one of the things here was
called Zeus’s Fist. Does the King of the Olympians trademark his name? Is he annoyed that
he can’t trademark it because Olympus has liability issues especially regarding how mortals
throw around godly names all the time? What’s seeing someone in the mythical world like?
Far away, the conch horn blew. I heard whoops and yells in the woods, the clanking of metal
as kids fought.

A blue-plumed ally from Apollo raced past me like a deer, leapt through the creek, and
disappeared into enemy territory.

Normal people might be upset at missing out on the fun, but I was quite happy here, thank
you very much. At the creek, I had access to my personal form of protection- water -which
would be needed if a hellhound shows up like in Canon.

I plopped myself down in the creek, uncaring to my soaked clothes, and blocked out the
sounds of people fighting. Except…

“You know it doesn’t matter if you’re invisible or not if I can hear you, right?” I say in the
direction of where Annabeth is hiding. “I mean, people have ears.”

There’s complete silence until I hear the very faint sounds of receding footsteps.

Oops, I think I’ve embarrassed her. Oh well, this means she won’t see me completely
ignoring the fact that I’m supposed to be patrolling the border.

Then I heard a sound that sent a chill up my spine, a low canine growl, somewhere close by.

I yanked on my necklace, unsheathing Riptide as I stood; the hellhound had found me.

Then the growling stopped. Rustling noises then came from its general direction, but the
sound got further away. It was… Retreating? What?

On the other side of the creek, the underbrush exploded. Five Ares warriors came yelling and
screaming out of the dark.

"Cream the punk!" Clarisse shouted.

Her ugly pig eyes glared through the slits of her helmet. She brandished a five-foot-long
spear, its barbed metal tip flickering with a red light. Her siblings had only the standard-issue
bronze swords- not that it made me feel any better.

They charged across the stream. There was no help in sight. I could run. Or I could defend
myself against half the Ares cabin. Or I could-

My fight or flight instincts kicked in and I panicked. One second I was standing in the creek,
surrounded by Ares kids, the next I was up the nearest tree and all my attackers were passed
out underneath it.

Did I just-? Oh fuck.

My brain had somehow managed to choose both fight and flight at the same time. A focused
tidal wave had knocked all the Ares kids the fuck out while my monkey instinct kicked in
and I climbed away from the danger. Oops. I hope those definite concussions blur what really
happened.
I’m still up a tree. How am I supposed to get down from my perch a full ten feet off the
ground? I stare down at the suddenly way too far-away dirt. If I just fucking jump, the water
in the creek should catch me.

I jumped, and the creek water rose up to cushion me, but I think I fucked up when I heard a
tell-tale “CRACK!” and exploding pain from my ankle.

Great, now I have a fucked up ankle. Today is NOT my day. Fuck, this shit hurts!

I was busy putting my motormouth to use while trying to heal my ankle when it happened.

A howl split the air and made my hair stand up.

There on the rocks just above me was a black hound the size of a rhino, with lava-red eyes
and fangs like daggers.

It was looking straight at me.

I’m going to fucking die.

Inwardly my mind curses the fact that I was asleep for those first few days at camp- Kronos
must have taken advantage and ordered Luke to summon the hellhound during that time.

Swifter than any predator that size should be able to move, it leapt towards me; like an
enormous shadow with fangs for teeth.

Summoning my powers, I call up a frozen wall of ice. It runs full force into it, shattering my
only protection, but I already knew what to do. It’s dazed for only a second before the creek
water rises up and freezes it in place. Riptide is a bronze blur as I lop it’s head off.

It turns to dust the exact same time my adrenaline wears off and I fall over. My muscles are
screaming and my ankle's throbbing in agony; there are hot tears streaming down my face
from the pain. I’m exhausted, and creek water can only do so much.

I hear the tell-tale sounds of someone crashing through the woods towards me and instinct
makes me unfreeze the creak, turning it all back to normal. The only pieces of evidence that
pointed out something was wrong is the scattered, unconscious Ares kids and the tell-tale
sign of golden dust.

Annabeth appears with her invisibility cap in hand only seconds afterwards. She’s standing in
shock, taking in the scene when I call out to her.

“Annabeth! There was a hellhound and knocked them out and I got a lucky hit in and I broke
my ankle! I- Get help!” I babble to her in panic, sobbing.

One could call me a good actress if it wasn’t for the fact that I wasn’t acting. I really was
hysterical because oh my gods I almost died!
 The fucking bull-man does not count. That fucker had hurt Mãe. Nobody hurts Mãe.

Then I heard yelling and elated screams. Luke was racing toward the boundary line with the
red team's banner lifted high. He was flanked by a couple of Hermes guys covering his
retreat, and a few Apollos behind them, fighting off the Hephaestus kids.

Luke ran across into friendly territory. I could vaguely hear our side erupt into cheers.

The red banner shimmered and turned to silver. The boar and spear were replaced with a huge
caduceus, the symbol of cabin eleven. Everybody on the blue team picked up Luke and
started carrying him around on their shoulders. Chiron cantered out from the woods and blew
the conch horn.

Somehow, this managed to break Annabeth from her stupor and she began screaming.
“LUKE! CHIRON! HELP!”

The campers' cheering died instantly. Chiron and Luke seemed to teleport to our side.

I was weakly cradling my ankle and, uh, sluggishly bleeding from somewhere? I couldn’t
tell. I was also sitting upright out of the water like a dumbass. My shirt’s turning red. My
eyesight is blurry. I’m five seconds from passing out.

“Percy!” Gods, Luke sounded terrified. “No, no, no! Stay awake!”

Chiron tipped some sweet tasting golden liquid into my mouth. Nectar. He looked up at
Annabeth and asked what had happened, but all she could do was relay what I told her.

“Someone inside the camp summoned it,” he frowned, looking at the other injured campers.
“Luke. Take her to the infirmary, now! Apollo Cabin, help me with the others.”

I was scooped up into Luke’s warm arms and nearly unconscious when I realise something
that makes my eyes flutter back open.

I haven’t been claimed.

Oh fuck. I haven’t been claimed. I’ve changed something so drastically that Pai hasn’t
claimed me! Think, Ophelia, think! Canon had something to do with Percy healing and Anna-
Annabeth! She wasn't close enough to see me use my powers...!

But- but what about the quest?

I don’t know. The only thing I know is that I truly fucked up.

Shit!

Chapter End Notes

*** I’m not saying to not take meds, especially mental illness medication. My cousin,
back in the 2000s, couldn’t take any antidepressants because they reacted badly with
them- only in the late 2010s did they find a common, compatible antidepressant that
they could take. Medicine evolves and I’m basing this on my only reference for this
topic.

Izzy: Sorry for the short chapter, I wrote it in less than an hour while hyper focusing and
can’t force myself to make it longer. But, uh, ANGST! And this chapter is just the
beginning!

Raven: Oh yeah, next chapter? So. Much. Angst. Freaking hell, poor Ophelia…

Izzy: Raven! Don’t spoil it!

Raven: You and I know exactly how vague I’m being so ssshhhh.
 Fragile glass and brittle clay.
Chapter Summary

Something has to give. Something has to go.

Chapter Notes

Trigger Warning for Dissociation and Depression

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Somehow, I get released from the infirmary only 24 hours after I enter it.

Everyone believes that the hellhound was just a freak accident. Clarisse and her siblings don’t
even remember what happened, and I’m still unclaimed. I’ve truly destroyed Canon by now-
even Fanon is six feet under.

I have no idea what to do. I have to get a quest, but I can’t get a quest unless I’m claimed, and
I won’t get claimed unless I use my powers. It’s like an ethical problem: stop World War 3 by
sacrificing any chance at normal happiness or keep your happiness, safety, and personal
relationships by letting the world burn. Thing is, I’ve always been terrible at ethics because
my morals are absolutely all over the place.

On the day after getting released from the infirmary, I stick close to Luke.

He hovers, fretting over me like I’m a fragile piece of glass and he is the only thing that can
stop me from breaking. I stick close to him right back because I’m the only one who sees that
he is brittle clay and I’m the sun who overbaked him. Guilt and worry seem to be our twin
masks nowadays.

His face shutters whenever he looks at me; the smile turns plastic, the pride in his eyes turns
to guilt, and the almost healthy glow from his peaceful nights has become pale with the bags
under his eyes darkening. I know he’s the one who summoned the hellhound. Now? Now I
know he regrets it.

It’s a blaring flag that announces that I’ve made progress in manipulating converting Luke
onto my side, yet the sight of it makes me sick to my stomach. The first time I brought up the
gods, Luke had shut down as if his normal ‘wallowing in self-pity’ had turned to ‘drowning
in liquid guilt.’ I ended up being dragged back to the infirmary after throwing up my
breakfast. I did this. I hurt him. He might have hurt so many people, but this is my fucking
fucking soulmate and yet I’m purposely worrying and hurting him.

I think I understand why so many people claimed you could never hurt your soulmate; we’re
both self-destructing from simply unintentionally hurting each other. I don’t want to know if
reality would only make everything worse.

In the end, I make a decision.

I need the quest to happen. I don’t think I can live with myself otherwise.

I asked Luke to go and meet me by the lake before dinner. The wait for him to arrive was
agony; the scalding tears that fell in the cold lake, the fear making my heart pound, the dull
ache in my head, the broken, sharp shards I recognise as my heartbreaking- I was paralyzed
and shattering into the wind.

He finds me sniffling, sobbing into my knees as if my entire world was crashing down
somehow. It was. I am twenty and twelve, and I feel far too young to bear the weight of so
many lives. So many lives for the silly little price of my heart and soul. Humanity is selfish,
but I cannot be. I must not be.

“Percy?” he asked, kneeling next to me. “What’s wrong?”

I sob harder. ‘I’m so SORRY!’ I wanted to scream at him. But I couldn’t- not if I wanted to
save him.

“I’m scared,” I admit, and it is not a lie.

“Shhh,” he soothes, drawing me into a hug. “Nothing will hurt you, I promise. I won’t let the
monsters get you.”

“No!” I shout, drawing away. “You don’t understand!”

“Percy?”

“Ophelia. To you, I’m Ophelia,” I whisper like it’s a truth I’ll never tell again.

He shifts cautiously. “Okay then, Ophelia. Will you tell me what’s wrong?”

I look away. I can’t look at those eyes. They’re too trusting for their own good. “Promise you
won’t be angry?”

“Promise,” he says simply.

I close my eyes. I’m a mess right now- regretful yet not. Never regretful for all that I will
save.

Letting out a short puff of air, I lift my arm.

Water from the lake rises along with it; swirling, flowing, dancing around my palm. “I’ve had
these powers ever since I was little,” I speak quietly like something would fracture if I’m too
loud. Luke stays quiet. “It’s a tugging feeling in my gut, a call to dance to a melody I’ve
never heard before, but I yearn for it anyways. I loved it- still love it, but now a part of me
hates it because I know what it means now.”

He still doesn’t say anything. I can almost imagine the horror running through his mind, but
that’s too painful to think about, so I don’t.

I’m caught utterly off-guard when he pulls me into an embrace. “I’m so sorry Ophelia,” he
whispers into the crown of my head. “You deserve so much better.”

No, I don’t! I go limp in his grip anyways and together, we sob at the unfairness of the world.

A boy who’s been misled, and a girl who’s trying to save him.

What a pair we make. Shove in world-ending implications and it’ll be quite the story, eh?

It feels like we were by that lakeside for hours even though, logically, I know we weren’t.

By the time we stood back up, dried tear tracks on our faces, I’m exhausted. Any feeling I
have left is gone and in its place is nothing but numb nihilism.

I will go confess to Chiron who my father is. I will get assigned a quest. I will stop Kronos
from rising. These are painful facts, but they are the only last bit of hope I have left. I have
opened Pandora’s box and now I have to shelter Hope from the other monsters that plague
me.

How the fuck did the original Pandora do this?

The walk to the Big House is silent. When Chiron opens the door to see me and Luke
standing there grimly, he quickly ushers us inside.

I barely register Luke pushing me to sit on the couch and handing me a hot cup of tea. I stare
into the glass numbly. Don’t some people use tea leaves to divine the future? Should I even
bother when I know the horrors of mine already?

Chiron and Luke talk in the kitchen. I can barely hear their conversation over my heart trying
to leap out of my throat. Once upon a time I would have said death is kinder than misery.
Now, my death has become my misery.

Luke walks back into the living room. Chiron is behind him, shooting me concerned glances.
They kindly explained to me that we have to wait for my father to claim me before they can
do anything. Luke looks upset at this verdict, but he relays it to me anyways.

It’s dinner time. I haven’t even noticed it, yet Luke and Chiron are leading me down to the
amphitheatre to eat anyways. I don’t think I could eat even if I tried.
I wobble as I unhook my arm from Luke’s; my balance is shot to space with my unbalanced
mind. I manage to stumble to the Hermes’ Cabin table only to be bombarded with concerned
stares and questions of, “Are you okay?”

I barely register my mouth forming the words, “I’m fine,” before I’m bathed in a soft green
glow.

There are gasps from many people- around the same amount of lives I have to play God to
save. Those same lives are kneeling to me right now

I look at them numbly, only stopping when I make eye contact with Luke.

I’ve made my bed.

That doesn’t mean I want to lie in it.

Without a word, I bolt from the horrible scene in the amphitheatre. A hell of my own making
is left behind as I race blindly away; quicker, faster, so that maybe I can leave it in the dust.
Someone is screaming for me to stop and come back. I hear my true name- my true,
corrupted, self- but I don’t stop.

I slam the door to Cabin Eleven open as I rush to gather my things. This is not my home, it
never should have been my home. My bag is haphazardly packed when I flee again, this time
towards my new Cabin.

I lock the Cabin door behind me and throw myself full-force onto a bed. My tears soak the
pillow and I’m sure by the time I’m done they’ll be drenched.

“WHY ME?” I scream into my pillow. “WHY?

In between sobs, I realise that I haven’t talked to Pai since I arrived at camp. No whispered
prayers or telling him about my day, nothing that reminds him that I think about him every
day. Oh, gods, I’m an awful daughter!

It takes far too long for me to stop heaving so I could talk. My voice is croaky and it keeps
breaking at random intervals but I don’t stop speaking. I tell my Pai almost everything;
seeing the Fates, fighting the Minotaur, losing Mãe, my friendships at camp, my animosity
with Annabeth, how scared I was when I figured out I was his daughter. Everything other
than my stupid manipulations and my stupid attempts at trying to make the future better.

I spoke for hours. The moon was high in the sky by the time I fell asleep, but I could almost
feel my Pai’s presence in the Cabin. Somehow, my burden felt lighter.

I may be cracking under the strain, but that night, I fell asleep with a smile on my face.

I was running along the beach in a storm.

This time, there was a city behind me. Not New York. The sprawl was different: buildings
spread farther apart with palm trees and low hills in the distance.

About a hundred yards down the surf, two men were fighting. They looked like TV wrestlers,
muscular, with beards and long hair. Both wore flowing Greek tunics, one trimmed in blue,
the other in green. They grappled with each other, wrestled, kicked and head-butted, and
every time they connected, lightning flashed, the sky grew darker, and the wind rose.

I had to stop them. I didn't know why. But the harder I ran, the more the wind blew me back
until I was running in place, my heels digging uselessly in the sand.

Over the roar of the storm, I could hear the blue-robed one yelling at the green-robed one,
‘Give it back! Give it back!’ I was like Godzilla had gotten into a kindergartner fight with its
twin.

The waves got bigger, crashing into the beach, spraying me with salt.

I yelled, ‘Stop it! Stop fighting!’

The ground shook. Laughter came from somewhere under the earth, in a voice so deep and
malicious it turned my blood to ice.

‘Come down, little hero,’ the voice crooned. ‘Come down!’

The sand split beneath me, opening up a crevice straight down to the centre of the earth. My
feet slipped, and darkness swallowed me.

I woke up, sure I was still falling.

I wasn’t- the bed in Cabin Three supported me as it would always do. My body told me it
was morning, but it was dark outside, and thunder rolled across the hills. A storm was
brewing. I hadn't dreamed that.

I heard a clopping sound at the door- a hoof knocking on the threshold.

"Come in?"

Grover trotted inside, looking worried. "Mr D wants to see you."

"Why?"

"He wants to kill... I mean, I'd better let him tell you."

Nervously, I got dressed and followed. So this is the part where I am given a quest. I wasn’t
excited- I wanted to throw up!

Over Long Island Sound, the sky looked like ink soup coming to a boil. A hazy curtain of
rain was coming in our direction. I pointed out that it’s about to rain on Grover.
"No," he said. "It never rains here unless we want it to."

I pointed at the storm. "What the fuck is that, then?"

Great, I’ve gone past the ‘depressive disassociation’ stage to the ‘using humour and sarcasm
to cope’ stage.

He glanced uneasily at the sky. "It'll pass around us. Bad weather always does."

In the week I'd been here, it had never even been overcast. The few rain clouds I'd seen had
skirted right around the edges of the valley. But this storm... this one was huge.

At the volleyball pit, the kids from Apollo's cabin were playing a morning game against the
satyrs. The Dionysus twins were walking around in the strawberry fields, making the plants
grow. Everybody was going about their normal business, but they looked tense. Every so
often, their eyes would flicker to the storm.

Grover and I walked up to the front porch of the Big House. Dionysus sat at the pinochle
table in his tiger-striped Hawaiian shirt with his Diet Coke, just as he had on my first day.
Chiron sat across the table in his fake wheel-chair. Luke was uneasily playing against them.

"Well, well," Mr D said without looking up. "Our little celebrity."

“Did you just lift that line straight from Harry Potter?” I snark back at him. Yes, be rude so
nobody can tell you spent the night crying. That totally works.

"Come closer," Mr D said. "And don't expect me to kowtow to you, mortal, just because old
Barnacle Beard is your father."

A net of lightning flashed across the clouds. Thunder shook the windows of the house.

"Blah, blah, blah," Dionysus said.

Chiron feigned interest in his pinochle cards. Grover cowered by the railing, his hooves
clopping back and forth.

"If I had my way," Dionysus said, "I would cause your molecules to erupt in flames. We'd
sweep up the ashes and be done with a lot of trouble. But Chiron seems to feel this would be
against my mission at this cursed camp: to keep you little brats safe from harm."

"Spontaneous combustion is a form of harm, Mr D," Chiron put in.

"Nonsense," Dionysus said. "Girl wouldn't feel a thing. Nevertheless, I've agreed to restrain
myself. I'm thinking of turning you into a dolphin instead, sending you back to your father."

"Mr D-" Chiron warned.

"Oh, all right," Dionysus relented. "There's one more option, but it's deadly foolishness."
Dionysus rose, and the invisible players' cards dropped to the table. "I'm off to Olympus for
the emergency meeting. If the girl is still here when I get back, I'll turn her into an Atlantic
bottlenose. Do you understand? And Persephone Jackson, if you're at all smart, you'll see
that's a much more sensible choice than what Chiron feels you must do."

Dionysus picked up a playing card, twisted it, and it became a plastic rectangle. A credit
card? No. A security pass.

He snapped his fingers.

The air seemed to fold and bend around him. He became a hologram, then a wind, then he
was gone, leaving only the smell of fresh-pressed grapes lingering behind.

Chiron smiled at me, but it looked tired and strained. "Sit, Percy, please. And Grover."

We did.

Chiron laid his cards on the table, a winning hand he hadn't gotten to use.

“Percy, I understand that things are rather difficult for you right now, but what I’m about to
ask of you is only necessary.”

That is one hell of an understatement. “You want me to go on a quest.”

He nods, “Yes.”

Luke interrupts, “Chiron, please. She’s too young, we could-”

I lay a hand on his arm to stop him. “It’s okay, Luke.” I gave him a soft, sad smile. “I have
to.”

I turn back to Chiron, "Poseidon and Zeus," I said. "They're fighting over something
valuable... something that was stolen, wasn’t it?"

Chiron and Grover exchanged looks. Chiron sat forward in his wheelchair. "How did you
know that?"

I fiddled with my fingers on my lap, desperately trying to stim. "The weather since Christmas
has been weird, like the sea and the sky is fighting. Then I talked to Annabeth, and she'd
overheard something about a theft. And... I've also been having these dreams."

“I knew it," Grover said.

"Hush, satyr," Chiron ordered.

"But it is her quest!" Grover's eyes were bright with excitement. "It must be!"

"Only the Oracle can determine." Chiron stroked his bristly beard. "Nevertheless, Percy, you
are correct. Your father and Zeus are having their worst quarrel in centuries. They are
fighting over something valuable that was stolen. To be precise: a lightning bolt."
I laughed nervously. "A what?"

"Do not take this lightly," Chiron warned. "I'm not talking about some tinfoil-covered zigzag
you'd see in a second-grade play. I'm talking about a two-foot-long cylinder of high-grade
celestial bronze, capped on both ends with god-level explosives."

"Oh."

"Zeus's master bolt," Chiron said, getting worked up now. "The symbol of his power, from
which all other lightning bolts are patterned. The first weapon made by the Cyclopes for the
war against the Titans, the bolt that sheered the top off Mount Etna and hurled Kronos from
his throne; the master bolt, which packs enough power to make mortal hydrogen bombs look
like firecrackers."

"And it's missing?"

"Stolen," Chiron said.

"By who?"

"By whom," Chiron corrected. Once a teacher, always a teacher. "By you."

“But I didn’t,” I pointed out, “I’m being framed.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Luke shift as if he’s in pain.

“But Zeus believes you’ve stolen it. During the winter solstice, at the last council of the gods,
Zeus and Poseidon had an argument. The usual nonsense: 'Mother Rhea always liked you
best’; ‘Air disasters are more spectacular than sea disasters,' et cetera. Afterwards, Zeus
realized his master bolt was missing, taken from the throne room under his very nose. He
immediately blamed Poseidon. Now, a god cannot usurp another god's symbol of power
directly- that is forbidden by the most ancient of divine laws. But, Zeus believes your father
convinced a human hero to take it."

"But I didn't-"

"Have patience and listen, child," Chiron said. "Zeus has good reason to be suspicious. The
forges of the Cyclopes are under the ocean, which gives Poseidon some influence over the
makers of his brother's lightning. Zeus believes Poseidon has taken the master bolt and is
now secretly having the Cyclops build an arsenal of illegal copies, which might be used to
topple Zeus from his throne. The only thing Zeus wasn't sure about was which hero Poseidon
used to steal the bolt. Now Poseidon has openly claimed you as his daughter. You were in
New York over the winter holidays. You could easily have snuck into Olympus. Zeus
believes he has found his thief."

“So now what? I have to find who’s stolen it and bring it back, right?”

“Yes,” Chiron says. “Yes, you do.”

It started to rain. Volleyball players stopped their game and stared in stunned silence at the
sky.

I had brought this storm to Half-Blood Hill. Zeus was punishing the whole camp because of
me. I was furious. Furious, and so very tired.

“Do you accept this quest?”

"All right," I said. "It's better than being turned into a dolphin."

"Then it's time you consulted the Oracle," he said with finality. "Go upstairs, Percy Jackson,
to the attic. When you come back down, assuming you're still sane, we will talk more."

Four flights up, the stairs ended under a green trap-door.

I pulled the cord. The door swung down, and a wooden ladder clattered into place.

The warm air from above smelled like mildew and rotten wood and something else... a smell
I remembered from Biology class.

Reptiles. The smell of snakes.

I held my breath and climbed.

The attic was filled with Greek hero junk: armour stands covered in cobwebs; once-bright
shields pitted with rust; old leather steamer trunks plastered with stickers saying ITHAKA,
CIRCE'S ISLE, and LAND OF THE AMAZONS. One long table was stacked with glass jars
filled with pickled things- severed hairy claws, huge yellow eyes, and various other parts of
monsters. A dusty mounted trophy on the wall looked like a giant snake's head, but with
horns and a full set of shark's teeth. The plaque read, HYDRA HEAD #1, WOODSTOCK,
N.Y., 1969.

By the window, sitting on a wooden tripod stool, was the most gruesome memento of all: a
mummy. Not the wrapped-in-cloth kind, but a human female body shrivelled to a husk. She
wore a tie-dyed sundress, lots of beaded necklaces, and a headband over long black hair. The
skin of her face was thin and leathery over her skull, and her eyes were glassy white slits as if
the real eyes had been replaced by marbles; she'd been dead a long, long time.

Looking at her sent chills up my back, and that was before she sat up on her stool and opened
her mouth. A green mist poured from her the faded lips, coiling over the floor in thick
tendrils, hissing like twenty thousand snakes.

Inside my head, I heard a voice, slithering into one ear and coiling around my brain: I am the
spirit of Delphi, speaker of the prophecies of Phoebus Apollo, slayer of the mighty Python.
Approach, seeker, and ask.

I wanted to say, ‘No thanks, wrong door, just looking for the bathroom,’ but I forced myself
to take a deep breath.
The mummy wasn't alive. She was some kind of gruesome spectacle for something else, the
power that was now swirling around me in the green mist. Its presence didn't feel evil like my
demonic math teacher Mrs Dodds or the Minotaur. If anything, it resembles the power of the
Three Fates I'd seen knitting the yarn outside the highway fruit stand: ancient, powerful, and
definitely not human. More importantly, it wasn’t interested in squashing me like a bug.

I forced myself to say, “What must I do to complete this quest?”

The mist swirled more thickly (if that was even possible), collecting right in front of me and
around the table with the pickled monster-part jars. A voice, different from before, spoke. It
was mine; my old voice was telling me the prophecy as if I went through a mirror, darkly.

“You shall go west, and face the god who has turned.
You shall find what was stolen, and see it safely returned.
You shall save a friend, yet beware betrayal.
Remember, child, Fate and Life are frail.”

At first, I was too stunned to say anything, but as the mist retreated, coiling into a huge green
serpent and slithering back into the mouth of the mummy, I cried, "Wait! What do you mean?
What betrayal? Did I mess something up?"

The tail of the mist snake disappeared into the mummy's mouth. She reclined back against the
wall. her mouth closed tight as if it hadn't been open in a hundred years. The attic was silent
again, abandoned, nothing but a room full of mementoes.

My audience with the Oracle was over.

"Well?" Chiron asked me.

I slumped into a chair at the pinochle table. "She said I would retrieve what was stolen."

Grover sat forward, chewing excitedly on the remains of a Diet Coke can. "That's great!"

"What did the Oracle say exactly?" Chiron pressed. "This is important."

My ears were still tingling from the reptilian voice. "She… she said I would go west and face
a god who had turned. I would retrieve what was stolen and see it safely returned."

Luke looks at me with concern, “Ophelia, are you sure that’s all?”

I hesitate but decide to be truthful for once. “No, it’s not. But the other part is not necessary
for the quest. Trust me.”

He gives me a look but relents.

He studied my face. "Very well, Percy. But know this: the Oracle's words often have double
meanings. Don't dwell on them too much. The truth is not always clear until events come to
pass."
"Okay," I said, anxious to change topics. "So where do I go? Who's this god in the west?"

"Ah, think, Percy," Chiron said. "If Zeus and Poseidon weaken each other in a war, who
stands to gain?"

"Somebody else who wants to take over?" I guessed.

"Yes, quite. Someone who harbours a grudge, who has been unhappy with his lot since the
world was divided aeons ago, whose kingdom would grow powerful with the deaths of
millions. Someone who hates his brothers for forcing him into an oath to have no more
children, an oath that both of them have now broken."

I thought about my dreams, the evil voice that had spoken from under the ground. Kronos,
but that wasn’t the answer I knew he wanted. "Hades."

Chiron nodded. "The Lord of the Dead is the only possibility."

“Okay. Great. I really don’t want to do that but okay.”

Chiron and Luke send me twin glares.

"So let me get this straight," I said. "I'm supposed to go to the Underworld and confront the
Lord of the Dead."

"Check," Chiron replied.

"Find the most powerful weapon in the universe."

"Check."

"And get it back to Olympus before the summer solstice, in ten days."

"That's about right."

“Am I supposed to do this all by myself?” Truly, I wish the answer was yes.

“No,” Luke answers. “I’m going too.”

“Luke-” I say, already ready to try and talk him out of it.

“No. I’m going and that’s final.” He insists, and I fold. “As if I’m letting two children go on
the most dangerous quest of the century.”

Wait. “Two kids?”

The air shimmered behind Chiron.

Annabeth became visible, stuffing her Yankees cap into her back pocket.

"I've been waiting a long time for a quest, seaweed brain," she said. "Athena is no fan of
Poseidon, but if you're going to save the world, I'm the best person to keep you from messing
 up."

"If you do say so yourself," I said. "I suppose you have a plan, wise girl?"

Her cheeks coloured. "Do you want my help or not?"

Truthfully, I did. But I didn’t want her on a quest. She is a child, she should not be going on
life-threatening quests!

"A trio," I said. "That'll work."

"Excellent," Chiron spoke. "This afternoon, we can take you as far as the bus terminal in
Manhattan. After that, you are on your own."

Lightning flashed. Rain poured down on the meadows that were never supposed to have
violent weather.

"No time to waste," Chiron nodded to himself. “I think you should all get packing."

Chapter End Notes

Izzy: I’m in an angsty/poetic mood today, sorry for that. Also, yes, that actually is what
dissociation depression actually feels like. It’s not lazy writing. Don’t @ me. Ophelia’s
moods are 100% accurate in an ADHD kid. To the person who complained last time
about Ophelia being ‘unrealistically mentally ill’, stfu, I’m ADHD and I know what I’m
doing.

Raven: Well, I very much don’t have ADHD, so I tend to leave those parts to Izzy. It
wouldn’t really make sense to do otherwise.

Izzy: Also, Poseidon's thought process as to why he hasn't claimed her will be revealed
soon/tonight. I love him as a character, but gods are just hard to write.

EDIT 22/6/20: For some reason the entire chapter is in italics???? Correcting it now.
 Interlude/Omakes: Luke and Poseidon.
Chapter by IzzyMRDB

Chapter Summary

Two missing POVs of the last chapter. Unedited, Raven hasn't even read this.

-Luke POV-

When I realised that the last order I followed from Kronos hurt Ophelia, the pain that split
through me nearly made me black out.

It was strange, the pain, it was almost as if it was physical; the way it made my head split, my
chest tighten til I could not breathe, my knees buckle, my arms tremble. Grief and regret, it
seems, is a much stronger emotion than I’ve ever known.

I could not sleep. In my dreams, I saw her fall and bleed, over and over, until all I could do is
scream myself awake. I willingly took Alabaster’s and Clovis’ sleeping potion; I only let
myself dream once, and it felt almost like Kronos was watching and laughing at me.

The relief that came when she was released from the infirmary was overshadowed by my
guilt. I did this to her. I hurt her. For what? Petty revenge on the gods? The cruel whims of
Kronos? I was a pawn either way; harming others to feel useful.

The lake was almost like a punishment. She trusts you to tell you a secret - a secret she will
be hunted for - and I’ve already stabbed her in the back.

Ophelia is a child of the big three. A daughter of Poseidon. The child of the prophecy. She
will die for the gods, and nothing I do will change that. All I can do is make her happier
before she dies and I’m already failing that.

I should go to the gods. I should confess to being the one who stole the bolt, that Kronos is
rising and he ordered me to. But I am too much of a coward to face the consequences of my
own actions.

Instead, I will go on the quest with her. I will protect her, help her, mentor her, make sure she
comes out of this alive. If I have to; I will give my life to stop her from being condemned by
my actions.

I have to save her. I may not be useful or have a purpose other than being a pawn for the gods
and Titans; but I will make sure she never is a pawn.

-Poseidon-
His sweet daughter is breaking and he cannot go to her.

Poseidon has always held a fond place in his heart for his demigod daughter, she was the light
of his life. He listens attentively when her daily prayers reach his ears and distract him from
his work. He watches over her as she grows.

Then she found out about the world he and Sally were desperate to keep her from - keep her
safe in her ignorance. Her prayers stopped, the only times he got any contact from her is
when she sacrificed part of her dinner to him every night. He wanted to hover over her in
worry, but Zeus and Hades were watching us both. If I showed any evidence that she was my
daughter; my sweet Ophelia would be in danger.

His princess was injured, bleeding from a hellhound should never have been anywhere near
her. He wanted to claim her, help her, but he couldn’t. He would not claim her unless his hand
was forced. Nobody has seen her use her powers - not even his brothers - she was still safe.

He watched her weep at the lake unable to comfort her, and it drove him spare. She knew that
he was her father, and she knows what that means. And his sweet, sweet daughter will give
up her safety to clear his name as the thief. Truly, he could not love her anymore than he does
already.

As she fell asleep in her bed; he appeared to her.

His brothers may rage and bluster, but he will destroy them before he lets them harm his
family.

This, he promises her with a soft kiss to her forehead and the faint sea energy he leaves
behind. He promises.
 'Killer Quest’, ‘Lost!’ and ‘Drive’ are now stuck in my head.
Chapter Summary

This is your typical demi-god trip. It involves weapons, demons, buses, and a home-
made shrapnel grenade.

And property damage. Don’t forget the property damage.

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

It didn't take me very long to pack.

I only removed everything that was already in my backpack, then added basic toiletries, a
spare change of clothes and my drink bottle. I knew that in Canon, Percy lost his stuff on the
first day, and I’m not planning to lose all my things as he did. I tucked my locket, now
containing an old photo of Pai and Mãe, into my shirt. Lastly, I reached for Riptide, which
had shifted into a pretty pearl hairclip after Capture the Flag (Why? Make up your mind you
strange thing!) and put it in my braid.

The camp store loaned me one hundred dollars in mortal money and twenty golden
drachmas. These coins were as big as Girl Scout cookies and had images of various Greek
gods stamped on one side and the Empire State Building on the other. The ancient mortal
drachmas had been silver, Chiron told us, but Olympians never used less than pure gold.
Chiron said the coins might come in handy for non-mortal transactions- whatever that meant.

As far as I’m concerned, something that’s basically solid gold can be used almost anytime,
anywhere. Of course, it’s a last resort thing, but the option is there and I have something to
fall back to in case things go past hell and into Tartarus.

Happy thoughts, Ophelia, happy thoughts.

Chiron had also given Annabeth and me each a canteen of nectar and a zip-lock bag full of
ambrosia squares to be used only in emergencies if we were seriously hurt. It was the food of
gods, he reminded us. It would cure us of almost any injury, but it was lethal to mortals. Too
much of it would make a half-blood very, very feverish. An overdose would burn us up,
literally.

Assassination technique, confirmed? Yeah, probably.

Annabeth was bringing her magic Yankees cap, which she told me had been a twelfth-
birthday present from her mom. She carried a book on famous classical architecture, written
in Ancient Greek, to read when she got bored, and a long bronze knife, hidden in her shirt
sleeve. The adult part of me was screaming incoherently about small children with knives.
No part of that sentence is in any way acceptable.

Luke was bringing a pair of winged shoes that made me flinch every time I saw them. He
was carrying multiple hidden weapons, from a pair of throwing in knives in his boots, to a
shield that shifts into a belt. His bag was a bit more full than ours, but I was guessing that was
because he knew more than us about useful items on quests.

We said our goodbyes to the other campers, and I was surprised at how my friends showed up
to wave me goodbye. Katie gave me a strong hug and promised to look after my potted
plants, Kassandri practically tackled me in a hug of multi-coloured hair, Travis and Conner
snuck me a few stolen snacks in their goodbye hug, and Drew - the absolute sweetheart -
gave me a warm jacket. “For those cold nights!” she beamed while also handing over and a
scarf that was long enough for me to wrap around my head. “To protect those lovely curls of
yours.” I nearly cried in thanks.

We waved goodbye to the other campers, took one last look at the strawberry fields, the
ocean, and the Big House, then hiked up Half-Blood Hill to the tall pine tree that used to be
Thalia, daughter of Zeus.

Well, the tree is still Thalia, but I don’t think she’d appreciate it if I counted her tree years.

Chiron was waiting for us in his wheelchair. Next to him stood the surfer dude I'd seen when
I was recovering in the sick room. According to Grover, the guy was the camp's head of
security. He supposedly had eyes all over his body so he could never be surprised. Today,
though, he was wearing a chauffeur's uniform, so I could only see extra peepers on his hands,
face and neck.

"This is Argus," Chiron told me. "He will drive you into the city, and, er, well, keep an eye on
things."

“Seriously?” I raised an eyebrow. “Puns? And here I thought you had no taste!” I joked.

Luke and Annabeth rolled their eyes in unison, but Chiron smiled so that wasn’t a waste of a
joke.

Annabeth, probably just to spite me, called shotgun and raced to the car, Luke hot on her
heels, yelling that he’s the adult so he gets to ride shotgun. I was about to run after them
when Chiron stopped me.

“Percy,” he said, “Your sword, do you have it?”

“Yeah,” I respond, pulling Riptide-the-hair-clip from my hair and letting it return to its stabby
form.

Note to self: see what camouflage options there are so I can find my favourite.

"The sword has a long and tragic history that we need not go into," Chiron told me. "Its name
is Anaklusmos."
“Riptide,” I translated, smiling at the almost nostalgic feeling that passes through me.

"Use it only for emergencies," Chiron said, "and only against monsters. No hero should harm
mortals unless absolutely necessary, of course, but this sword wouldn't harm them in any
case."

I looked at the wickedly sharp blade. "It won’t harm mortals? How come?"

"The sword is celestial bronze. Forged by the Cyclopes, tempered in the heart of Mount Etna,
cooled in the River Lethe. It's deadly to monsters, to any creature from the Underworld,
provided they don't kill you first. But the blade will pass through mortals like an illusion.
They simply are not important enough for the blade to kill. And I should warn you: as a
demigod, you can be killed by either celestial or normal weapons. You are twice as
vulnerable."

“Great,” I muttered sarcastically. “Just what I needed; more danger!”

Chiron gives me an unimpressed look. “Percy, please. This is serious.”

“Sorry.”

"Relax," Chiron told me. "Keep a clear head. And remember, you may be about to prevent
the biggest war in human history."

"Relax," I deadpanned. "I'm very relaxed."

When I got to the bottom of the hill, I looked back. Under the pine tree, Chiron was now
standing in full horse-man form, holding his bow high in salute. Just your typical summer-
camp send-off by your typical centaur. Truly, fuck me sideways with a hammer- what did I
do to deserve this insanity?

Argus drove us out of the countryside and into western Long Island. It felt weird to be on a
highway again, especially since last time was in the middle of a god-made storm. Annabeth
and Luke sat next to me as if we were normal carpoolers.

After two weeks at Half-Blood Hill, the real world seemed like a fantasy. I found myself
staring at every McDonald's, every kid in the back of their parents' car, every billboard and
shopping mall. The whole baggage; the one I had dropped the day I fucking died.

Happy thoughts, Ophelia!

Two weeks at Camp meant that my brain was a little out of whack on determining ‘normal’
and ‘not normal.’ For one thing, every ugly hunched over entity that looked vaguely female
could be a Kindly One. They could also be normal yet hunched over females, but how was I
supposed to know that?

Oh look! Some kid who had just dropped their candy, some dude who’s just about to step on
a half-eaten apple, a giant wolf drinking Starbucks, some funny small dude just walking alo-
Back up.

By the time my brain rebooted and processed what I saw, the car had already driven right by.
Right. You know what? I’m not going to even bother to figure out what pantheon or legend
that was, I could have totally just seen a hyper-realistic furry, no need to think any further.

Happy. Thoughts.

"So far so good," I calmly spoke as I turned to Annabeth. "Ten miles and not a single
monster." Except for the Starbucks furry, the weird part of my brain giggled.

She gave me an irritated look. "It's bad luck to talk that way, seaweed brain."

I flinched- I am NOT him! "Don’t call me that,” I said shortly. “Why do you hate me?"

"I don't hate you."

I couldn’t have held back my scoff even if I tried. "Could've fooled me."

I spotted Luke watching us from the rearview mirror, ready to step in. Err, lean in?

She folded her cap of invisibility. "Look... we're just not supposed to get along, okay? Our
parents are rivals."

"Why?"

She sighed. "How many reasons do you want? One time my mom caught Poseidon with his
girlfriend in Athena's temple, which is hugely disrespectful. Another time, Athena and
Poseidon competed to be the patron god for the city of Athens. Your dad created some stupid
saltwater spring for his gift. My mom created the olive tree. The people saw that her gift was
better, so they named the city after her."

“And? You want to be defined by your parent’s actions and opinions? That’s stupid. Tell me
the real reason” I insisted.

Annabeth bristled. “I am not stupid!”

“Then don’t say stupid things.” I snarked back, frustrated already. “Look, we’ve got a whole
quest ahead of us, we need to get along. I am trying to extend an olive branch, but I need you
to take it. Why won’t you?”

“It’s not fair!” she burst out. “You come along to camp and you’re already in the best classes
and Chiron gives special attention to you and now you’ve got your own quest that you don’t
even want me on!”

Oh. I’ve forgotten. While she’s supposed to be one of the greatest heroes of all time, she’s
still a moody middle schooler who gets jealous. How’re you supposed to deal with people
like her again? Ignore them? That’s what I did at school, but something called common sense
tells me that’s not the correct response here.
“I’m sorry,” I told her awkwardly. “I don’t do it on purpose. I hate the special attention, it’s
just because of my bloody parentage, they don’t pay attention to me because of me. And I
don’t want you on the quest- quests are dangerous and you’re safer at camp. I’m safer at
camp- I’m just doing this stupid thing because I have to.”

We’re both looking at each other awkwardly until we look away. I catch Luke’s eye in the
mirror and quickly shake my head. ‘No.’ It’s better he doesn’t get in the middle of this. I turn
back to trying to spot completely normal things that make my head spin.

Happ- Oh, you know what? Fuck that!

I started brooding instead. Bite me.

Traffic slowed us down in Queens. By the time we got into Manhattan, it was sunset and
starting to rain.

Argus dropped us at the Greyhound Station on the Upper East Side, not far from my mom
and Gabe's apartment. Taped to a mailbox was a soggy flyer with my picture on it: HAVE
YOU SEEN THIS GIRL? I ripped it down before Annabeth and Luke could notice.

Argus unloaded our bags, made sure we got our bus tickets, then drove away, the eye on the
back of his hand opening to watch us as he pulled out of the parking lot.

I thought about how close I was to my old apartment. On a normal day, my mom would be
home from the candy store by now. Smelly Gabe was probably up there right now, playing
poker, not even missing her.

“You okay, Ophelia?” Luke asked.

I shook the depressive thoughts away. “Yeah, just thinking.”

The rain kept pelting down.

We got restless waiting for the bus and decided to play some Hacky Sack with one of my
snack apples. Annabeth was unbelievable. She could bounce the apple off her knee, her
elbow, her shoulder, whatever. Just how good were this girl’s reflexes!

The game ended when Luke grabbed the apple straight out of the air and finally asked me
whatever it was that kept making him send me weird looks throughout the trip. “Ophelia,
what on Olympus’ name are you singing under your breath?”

“Huh?” I was singing?

“You’re singing something about being ‘lost in the woods’ and ‘keep on driving.’”

I blushed bright red. Oops, I didn’t even notice I was singing the Lightning Thief Musical
again. “Uh, it’s just some show tunes. From a musical,” I blabber.

Annabeth snorts, “Truly, a seaweed brain.”

Luke looks as amused as she is. Great, they think I’m a geek. Well, I am, but still!

The bus finally arrived, and we quickly stepped into line to board to get away from the
irritating downpour.

I was relieved when we finally got on board and found seats together in the back of the bus.
Annabeth was about to stow her backpack away, but Luke and I stopped her. It’s best to keep
all your things within moments reach when you’re on a quest.

Annabeth kept slapping her Yankees cap nervously against her thigh.

As the last passengers got on, Annabeth clamped her hand onto my knee. "Percy."

An old lady had just boarded the bus. She wore a crumpled velvet dress, lace gloves, and a
shapeless orange-knit hat that shadowed her face- all topped off with a big paisley purse.
When she tilted her head up, her black eyes glittered, and my heart skipped a beat. Oh shit,
here we go again!

It was Mrs Dodds. Older, more withered, but definitely the same evil face.

I scrunched down in my seat. Please don’t notice me!

Behind her came two more old ladies: one in a green hat, one in a purple hat. Otherwise, they
looked exactly like Mrs Dodds; the same gnarled hands, paisley handbags and wrinkled
velvet dresses. Triplet demon grandmothers. With whips. Aw shite!

They sat in the front row, right behind the driver. The two on the aisle crossed their legs over
the walkway, making an X. It was casual enough, but it sent a clear message: nobody leaves.

The bus pulled out of the station, and we headed through the slick streets of Manhattan.

"She didn't stay dead long," I said, trying to keep my voice from quivering. “Not long at all.”

“All three of them!” Luke swore under his breath quite viciously. “We need an escape plan.”

"It's okay," Annabeth said, obviously thinking hard. "The Furies. The three worst monsters
from the Underworld. No problem. No problem. We'll just slip out the windows."

"They don't open," I moaned.

"A back exit?" she suggested.

There wasn't one. Even if there had been, it wouldn't have helped. By that time, we were on
Ninth Avenue, heading for the Lincoln Tunnel.

"They won't attack us with witnesses around," I said. "Will they?"

"Mortals don't have good eyes," Annabeth reminded me. "Their brains can only process what
they see through the Mist."

"They'll see three old ladies killing us, won't they?" She thought about it. "Hard to say. But
we can't count on mortals for help. Maybe an emergency exit in the roof ... ?"

We hit the Lincoln Tunnel, and the bus went dark except for the running lights down the
aisle. It was eerily quiet without the sound of the rain.

Mrs Dodds got up. In a flat voice, as if she'd rehearsed it, she announced to the whole bus: "I
need to use the restroom."

"So do I," said the second sister.

"So do I," said the third sister.

They all started coming down the aisle.

That’s it!

“Luke, Annabeth, when I say run, run,” I told them, shouldering my backpack and reaching
for nearby water in the bus.

“What? Percy!” Luke hissed, but I was already getting up and heading towards the bathroom.

The furies narrowed their eyes at me as I got nearer them. The old ladies were not old ladies
anymore. Their faces were still the same - I guess those couldn't get any uglier - but their
bodies had shrivelled into leathery brown hag bodies with bat's wings and hands and feet like
gargoyle claws. Their handbags had turned into fiery whips.

I smiled at them. It was not a pretty smile. “Good day!”

They snarled at me, lashing their whips, hissing, "Where is it? Where?"

“Right…” I drew out, “There!”

BANG!

While they were focused on the insane demigod greeting them, they failed to notice the water
bottle that had rolled between them. A water bottle I had just performed one of my favourite
tricks with- building the pressure of water in a container until it exploded. With my level of
control over water density, it just as deadly as an actual grenade.

The three went flying, one of them actually being thrown through the window.

The sound shattering glass made a whole group of people yelp. Well, subtly was never the
plan anyway.

“Run!” I yelled, summoning more water to act as a whip.

Luke and Annabeth grabbed their bags and shoved their way to the front of the bus. They
both had their weapons out and were poised to defend themselves if necessary.

All the mortals were screaming and ducking down in their seats in terror, so I guess the Mist
wasn’t being as helpful as I wished. I do hope I don’t end up as a terrorist- that could mess up
my University admissions.

For my next impulsively stupid act, I took my water, shot it out of the window like a weirdly
thick lasso, slammed it into the tunnel cement and enlarged the end into an anchor.

Basically, I drove the bus off the road. Not far enough to smash into the walls, but far enough
that we’re going all over the place. Hooray for a demi-god’s sense of balance!

I just pretended the bus was a rocking ship in the middle of something whipped up by a
certain sea-storm goddess. If nothing else, I think it helped.

With a hastily thrown up ice shield between the Furies and us, I shoved Luke and Annabeth
in front of me as we ran to the door. Already, their furious shrieks grated my ears the way
mortal sounds never could.

Shit. We have to get off this thing, but it’s still going 100 whatever-s per hour down this
shitty tunnel!

So what do I do? Well since I’m already being crazy, I might as well go all the way. Shoving
the bus driver aside, I grab the wheel and swerve it toward the tunnel exit. Everybody howled
as they were thrown to the right, and I heard what I thought was the sound of two Furies
smashing against the windows.

"Hey!" the driver yelled. "Hey-whoa!"

The bus slammed against the side of the tunnel, grinding metal, throwing sparks a mile
behind us. We careened out of the Lincoln Tunnel and back into the rainstorm, people and
monsters tossed around the bus, cars ploughed aside like bowling pins.

We sped off the highway, through a dozen red traffic lights, and began barreling down a rural
road that looked like it was in the middle of nowhere. There were woods to our left, the
Hudson River to our right, and the driver seemed to be veering toward the river.

Fuck, fuck, fuck! All the mortals can’t breathe underwater!

I hear a screech as one of the Furies finally gets through my icy wall. Fuck. I’m out of time.

In a panic, I stomp on the emergency brake.

The bus wailed, spun a full circle on the wet asphalt, and crashed into the trees. Emergency
lights came on. The door flew open. Some random guy was the first one out, followed by the
bus driver with other passengers yelling as they stampeded after him. I stepped into the
driver's seat and let them pass. The Furies regained their balance.
 They lashed their whips at Annabeth while she waved her knife and yelled in Ancient Greek,
telling them to back off. Luke had thrown one of his knives and it was buried in the shoulder
of one of Alecto’s sisters.

“Hey!” I shout, grabbing their attention just in time for them to be smacked to the bus wall by
a whip of water.

“Go, go, go!” Luke commanded, herding us off the bus. “Get off!”

We rushed outside and found the other passengers wandering around in a daze, arguing with
the driver, or running around in circles yelling, "We're going to die!"

It might be inappropriate right now, but. Mood.

I felt thunder shake the bus. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end. Uh oh.

BOOM!

The windows of the bus exploded as the passengers ran for cover. Lightning shredded a huge
crater in the roof, but an angry wail from inside told me Mrs Dodds was not yet dead.

“That’s one tough demon lady!” I spat.

"Run!" Annabeth said. "She's calling for reinforcements! We have to get out of here!"

We plunged into the woods as the rain poured down, the bus in flames behind us, with
nothing but darkness ahead.

My brain, annoyingly, got a song going as background music as we ran: “We’re lost in the
woods, somewhere in New Jersey, and we’re never, ever, gonna make it to LA!”

Oh, Murphy, please don’t tell me I just jinxed it.

Chapter End Notes

Raven: You guys have no idea how happy I am that we finally included the exploding
shrapnel water-grenade. My one regret is that I can’t feasibly get Ophelia to put sharp
pieces of celestial bronze into the concoction- that one would have shredded the Furies
to hell and back (haha, hell and back. Get it?)

Izzy: Raven is super happy about her water grenade idea, meanwhile I’m just happy that
I’m finally writing about the quest! That’s like, almost halfway! Also, that wolf drinking
Starbucks was fun to write, lmao.

Rave: Yeah, it doesn’t really feel like canon until the quest hits with all the force of a
category 6 hurricane.
Izzy: There’s only 5 categories of hurricanes?

Raven: I meant what I said and said what I meant.

 Medusa is NOT like Tumblr reimagined her.
Chapter Summary

We bond. That’s it. It’s all about feelings today, apparently.

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

So there I was, running away from an exploded bus, wondering whether or not I’ll ever be
able to go to University now. Then the weirdest thing happened.

Actually no, the weirdest thing isn’t that weird; I’m just being dramatic.

As soon as we stopped frantically running for our lives, I looked around, confirmed that I
probably wasn’t going to die in the next thirty seconds if I didn’t move, then promptly sat
down. On the ground. And laughed. But also kinda cried.

I know that I probably looked and acted insanely, but I didn’t care. We just exploded a bus
that was being attacked by demon triplet grandmothers! Hah!

Oh look, Luke seems almost hysterical enough to laugh or something. Must’ve said that last
part aloud. Great, now I’m talking like a crazy person too!

Ah, but now he’s going hysterical from worry. Don’t worry- I’m not injured, you’re not
injured and she’s not injured! It’s great!

Annabeth just sighed and rolled her eyes at me.

She ushered me up and kept pulling us along, saying, "Come on! The farther away we get,
the better." Leave it to her to be so pragmatic. Damn, if only I could be like that…

I had to hold out my hand to drag Luke who looked like the definition of a victim of shock.
He kept snapping it out of it at random times while shakily muttering something along the
lines of, “All three furies! Ophelia and Annabeth-?” Then he’d go full mother hen on the both
of us before reverting back to his stunned silence.

Well, considering what I was doing not even half a minute ago, cracking a joke about being
bipolar would probably be bad right about now.

“Should we do something?” I instead asked Annabeth, gesturing vaguely in Luke’s direction.

She glanced at him. “He’ll be fine. He did this when I was little too; Thalia and I would pull a
stunt and he would be like that for an hour.”
I nod. “So he’s always just been like this?”

“An absolute mother hen? Yes. Pretty sure that’s why they handed the councillor duties to
him when he was 14; he was already fussing over everyone even if he was literally years
younger than them.”

I giggled. “He’s definitely the Mom friend.”

She huffed a laugh at that, lips quirking in a way that told me it was all genuine. “Yep.”

There were a few beats of comfortable silence before she spoke again. "Look, I..." Her voice
faltered. "I appreciate your plan, okay? That was really brave. Thanks for coming back to
help us."

"I wouldn’t leave you. We’re a team." Seriously, I’m Persephone Ophelia fuckmothering
Jackson- and we Jacksons are loyal to our very bones.

She was quiet for a few more steps. "It's just that if you died... aside from the fact that it
would really suck for you, it would mean the quest was over. This may be my only chance to
see the real world."

Okay, one one hand, understandable. On the other hand, can’t you just wait until you’re
seventeen or something? You know, until you’re an adult?

The thunderstorm had finally let up. The city glow faded behind us, leaving us in almost total
darkness. I couldn't see anything of Annabeth except a glint of her blond hair.

"You haven't left Camp Half-Blood since you were seven?" I finally ask.

"No... only short field trips. My dad-"

"The history professor."

"Yeah. It didn't work out for me living at home. I mean, Camp Half-Blood is my home." She
was rushing her words out now as if she were afraid somebody might try to stop her. "At
camp, you train and train. And that's all cool and everything, but the real world is where the
monsters are. That's where you learn whether you're any good or not."

I nudged her on the arm and gave her a grin, “I think you’re good. Definitely better than me
with that knife of yours.”

"You think so?"

“Yeah.”

I couldn't really see, but I thought she might've smiled

"You know," she said, "maybe I should tell you... Something funny back on the bus ..."

Whatever she wanted to say was interrupted by Luke finally snapping out of it.
“Ophelia!” He narrowed his eyes. “That was a dangerous plan. Do you realise how foolish
that was?”

I smiled and glomped him, leaving him sputtering. “Yep! Come on, Annabeth is leading us
out of the woods!”

Do you know what superpower I don’t have but would totally bet fifty bucks to have? Night
vision. I am so jealous of every Hades kid, ever.

After tripping and cursing and generally feeling miserable for another mile or so, I started to
see light up ahead: the colours of a neon sign. I could smell food. Fried, greasy, excellent
food. I realized I hadn't eaten anything unhealthy since I'd arrived at Half-Blood Hill, where
we lived on grapes, bread, cheese, and extra-lean-cut nymph-prepared barbecue. I so need a
cheeseburger.

We kept walking until I saw a deserted two-lane road through the trees. On the other side
were a closed down gas station, a tattered billboard for a 1990s movie, and one open
business, which was the source of the neon light and the good smell. It wasn't a fast-food
restaurant like I'd hoped- it was one of those weird roadside curio shops that sell lawn
flamingos and wooden Indians and cement grizzly bears and stuff like that.

The main building was a long, low warehouse, surrounded by acres of statuary. There was a
cursive neon sign above in a glowing red:

“AUNTY EM'S GARDEN GNOME EMPORIUM”

Ah. Fuck me sideways with a rusty spork.

“Nope!” I shout, grabbing Luke and Annabeth’s arms and tugging them away from the trap.
“That’s a trap. We are not walking into a trap. Nope-nope-nopity-nope.”

They both ignored me. I swear, I’m a modern Cassandra.

"The lights are on inside," Annabeth said, shaking herself free. "Maybe it's open."

"Snack bar," Luke moaned wistfully.

"Snack bar," she agreed.

“Didn’t either of you idiots listen to me? Trap. Traaaap. T-R-A-P spells trap! There’s most
definitely a monster in there!”

Luke waves me off. “Don’t be so paranoid, Ophelia. It’s just a nice store.”

“I’m going to boil your teeth in Gatorade and drink it as my tea!” I threatened, “Get away
from the monster nest!”
Then the door creaked open, and standing in front of us was a tall Middle Eastern woman-at
least. I assumed she was Middle Eastern, because she wore a long black gown that covered
everything but her hands, and her head was completely veiled. Her eyes glinted behind a
curtain of black gauze, but that was about all I could make out. Her coffee-coloured hands
looked old but well-manicured and elegant, so I imagined she was a grandmother who had
once been a beautiful lady.

Her accent sounded vaguely Middle Eastern, too. She said, "Children, it is too late to be out
all alone. Where are your parents?"

“No,” I told her. “There’s no fucking way we’re going inside. Sorry Ms Monster, find some
other demigods to eat.”

“Percy!” Admonished Annabeth. “That’s so rude.”

Luke answers her like he’s in a trance, “We ran away. We’re so hungry, we just thought you
might spare some food for us.”

“We have our bags which have food in them for this exact reason!” I tug on Luke’s arm
again. “She’s a monster, dumbass!”

"Oh, my dears," the woman said. "You must come in, poor children. I am Aunty Em. Go
straight through to the back of the warehouse, please. There is a dining area."

Luke and Annabeth walked inside despite me trying to stop them. Ugh! Why does nobody
listen to me?

Also, since when did Medusa have snake charmer powers?

I glared at Medusa, dead in the veiled eyes. “I know you’re Medusa. Mind letting go of my
friends?”

She peered at me through her veil. “Aren’t you a perceptive one?”

“Yes. Let them go.” My hand’s already on Riptide. What do you take me for?

She sighed, “At least let me feed you. Just because I’m a monster doesn’t mean I dislike
some company.”

I gaped at her. Wait, seriously? I’m a sucker for reasons like that!

“Fine,” I grumbled. “But you’re keeping the veil on. There’ll be no fighting until we both
agree, got it?”

She cocked her head to the side, surprised. “Of course.”

“On the Styx?” I press. “You keep that veil on and there'll be no fighting between Medusa
and us three demigods until you and I both give explicit permission to do so.”

I can feel her gaze turn more intensive. “I swear it on the Styx.”
Thunder rumbled overhead.

Luke and Annabeth were already sitting down in the dining area when we got there. Medusa
told me to sit but I refused and entered the kitchen.

“I’m helping you cook,” I told her. “We’re not allowed to do so at Camp and I love to be in
the kitchen.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “You know, most demigods when they find out who I am, attempt
to kill me.”

“I’m not most demigods.” I pointed out. “Besides, you have feelings, I have feelings. We’re
both very much sentient creatures; I can empathise with you.”

She definitely looked shocked. “You look so much like your father, but you act nothing like
him.”

That truly cut me deep. I may not have ever truly met my Pai, but I loved him and long
forgiven him for everything. What he did to Medusa should be unforgivable, but I love him
anyway.

I looked away. “My father may have made me, but he hasn’t shaped me.”

I don’t let her answer, quickly switching the topic by leaning over her arm to flip the burger
patty. “Luke and Annabeth like their meat medium-rare,” I explain.

I could feel her stare when I turned away but I ignored it. Busying myself with the
milkshakes I was blending, I asked: “Do you still keep in contact with your children or
sisters?”

She gratefully took the offer of small talk. “Oh yes. Stheno has decided that she loves
customer service for some strange reason, Olympus knows why. Pegasus came to visit
recently; he just had a new grandchild.”

And so I chatted with the monster demon lady about family ties and how we love them all
anyway.

Hey, I never claimed to be sane.

Medusa and I finished cooking for everyone quickly enough.

We served up plastic trays heaped with double cheeseburgers, vanilla shakes, and XXL
servings of French fries. They looked delicious and I dug in.

Medusa ate nothing. She sat forward and interlaced her fingers and watched us eat. It was a
little unsettling, having someone stare at me when I couldn't see her face.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” I asked her.

She shook her head. “Food has not truly satisfied me in ages.”

“I’m sorry,” I told her. “Is there not anything that makes you happy anymore?”

Her gaze turned contemplative. “My statues bring me joy occasionally; I like selling them.
Seeing my children again is the most blessed thing.”

In a move that surprised even myself, I reached out to grab her hand. “I truly wish you
happiness.”

Her hand moved to cup my cheek. She stared into my eyes through her veil intensively and
spoke as if she was imparting the greatest wisdom and secret to me. “I once wished for a
daughter just like you,” she traced my face with her finger. “When the gods find you lacking,
once you outlive their purposes; do not fall into bitterness, sweet thing. You can be better
than them all.”

‘When,’ she said. Not ‘if’.

She gave me a soft kiss on my forehead. “You can stay here with me; forever until you pass
on. I will not harm you.”

She was just lonely. That thought made me want to scream of injustice. Fucking curse the
fate that the gods had given her- I want to tear it apart and boot it into higher orbit!

“I cannot,” I told her. “My mother is still out there, waiting for me to come home. Your offer
is tempting, but I can’t.”

Medusa nodded, looking her ancient age. “I understand. Motherhood is a blessing and a
curse, she’ll be always waiting for you.” She drew away. “I will still not harm you, child.
Take your companions and leave freely.”

She stood and walked away from us. “Medusa?” I asked.

She stopped at the doorway. “Yes, child?”

“Do you have to stay here? Do you have to freeze them?”

She turned back towards me and I could almost imagine the frown under her veil. “No, but
what else do I have?”

I bit my lip and made my decision. “You want company, I-” I faltered for a second, “This is
my address in the city. When I come back from my quest, I’ll meet you there with my Mãe.
You can have company.” I offered a napkin with a hastily written address on it.

She took it numbly. “You would invite a monster into your home?”

I shook my head, “I would offer a woman wronged by the gods some more family.” I smiled.
“Think about it, I’ll wait for you.”
She clutched the address to her chest. “You are truly the sweetest child. Your mother should
be proud of you.” She inclined her head. “I’ll ponder it... Go on, child, finish your quest.”

She swept off to the back of the store and I grabbed my companions.

Luke and Annabeth seemed to be slowly shaking off the spell Medusa put on them, but not
very quickly. They didn’t even protest when I dragged them outside.

Looking back at the store, I saw a glimpse of Medusa watching from the window before she
disappeared.

I marched on.

Letting out a harsh exhale, I rested my head on my knees.

I had dragged Luke and Annabeth almost a whole two miles away from the Gnome
Emporium before letting them fall asleep to shake off the last of the spell. Both of them had
passed out almost immediately, but I couldn’t sleep.

Medusa. A victim of the gods- of my Pai- is a woman who’s so tired of being bitter but has
nothing else to be. Then, my brain-to-mouth filter decided to go on strike and I invited her to
come and live with me and my Mãe. Why must the world be so complicated sometimes?

The snuffle from my left indicated that my team is finally waking up. I ignored it.

My Pai hurt so many people and I still love him. Does that say something about me? Am I
just as bad as him? He loves me. He- Argh! I’m just making excuses!

“Medusa!” Annabeth shouted, sitting bolt upright.

Luke woke up from her shout.

“Medusa?” His eyes went wide as he seemed to remember. “Medusa!”

“If you two knuckleheads would stop calling her name,” I snapped as I uncurled myself from
the tight ball I was in, “that would be great.”

“Wha-?”

“What happened?” Luke interrupted Annabeth.

I rolled my eyes. “You both ignored my warnings of a trap- walked right in and got drugged
by her food. I got us out of there. You’re welcome.”

“You got us out of there? How?” Annabeth asked.

“Do you really want me to brag?” I retorted. “I defeated her.”

 Annabeth doesn’t take the hint to shut up, but luckily Luke stops her from opening her mouth
again. “Thank you, Ophelia.”

I gave him a nod in thanks. “I’m going to sleep now. You get to stay on watch.”

I know he’s looking at me with concern but I block it out.

This is a problem for the morning.

I hunkered down into my sleeping bag. In the morning, I’ll deal with it.

...If I can.

Shut up, brain.

Chapter End Notes

Izzy: CANON DIVERGENCE!!! PLOT TWIST!!! YES!!! Sorry for the late, and short,
update - I’ve been trying to get an actual schedule going for updates but then I
procrastinated.

Also, I was going to make Medusa the villain, but as the title said; Medusa is a victim,
but not a wholly good one. She still murdered people. But Ophelia, with her habit of
forgiving everyone for their wrongdoings, sees her and thinks, ‘New mom!’

Raven: I do not claim to know how Ophelia’s mind works. I probably never will,
actually. Also, who else here is eagerly anticipating Smelly-Gabe’s fate? I know I am!
*Smiles*

Izzy: I can’t believe you just typed out “*smiles*” like bro,,, get off 2009 ff.net

Raven: Fine then, *slasher smiles*.

Izzy: I seriously cannot with you.

Raven: Oooooh I aim to please. *Flashes peace sign.*

Izzy: This is why our friend group makes fun of you. Actually, mainly it’s Grace, but
still.

Raven: *Gasps* I have no idea what you’re talking about.

 Interlude/Omake: Luke
Chapter by IzzyMRDB

Chapter Summary

An interlude from Luke's POV

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

I looked back at Ophelia’s slumbering form.

Ever since we started the quest, she’s been acting strangely. She’s paranoid, constantly
muttering under her breath, eyeing every corner for shadows; I don’t think she even realises
she’s doing it. Even worse, she’s right.

She knew what was going to happen before it did; she was tense and had her hand on her
sword before the Furies even got on the bus, her eyes darting around for escape routes. It
took a while for Medusa’s spell to fade and lift the haze from my mind, but now that it did, I
remember her knowing that it was a trap by Medusa; she told us before we entered the store!

I’ve always hated the thought of prophetic talk, ever since I was a child and my mother tried
to take the spirit of the Oracle, but Ophelia seemed to breathe forethought. How does she
know things that haven’t happened?

And what happened with Medusa? Ophelia says she defeated her, but she doesn’t have a
scratch on her, Riptide was still in the exact same place as a hair clip since we escaped the
Furies. She’s hiding something, but I don’t think it’s anything bad. In fact, I’m more worried
she’s traumatised than anything else.

“She’s hiding something.”

Annabeth was scowling at the dirt, stabbing it with a stick. “Something happened with
Medusa that she isn’t telling us about.”

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. Curse my protective instinct; now I’m lost in New
Jersey with two feuding preteens. “She’s traumatised, Annie. What you said is true, but she
doesn’t want to tell us because she’s scared.”

“What? She doesn’t trust us?” She said indignantly and threw her stick. “Aren’t we supposed
to be a team?”

“Do you trust her?” I retorted.

“No. She’s hiding something.”

Olympus help me. “Trust is a two-way street. How can she trust you when you don’t trust
her.”

“She trusts you!” Annabeth whined.

“She trusts me because, unlike you, I haven’t been trying to pick a fight with her every time I
see her. You have to give her a chance. She has saved us twice already; it’s not like she’s
about to kill us in our sleep.”

She ducks her head. “Fine.”

I sighed, and stretched out an arm to her. “Come here.”

She shuffles over so I can give her a one sided embrace. I could faintly see a blush on her
face. “You’re always going to be my little sister, I won’t abandon you.”

“But you’re always with her!”

I brushed her hair out of her face. “Yeah, because our family has grown and we have to show
our new member around.” I chuckle at a memory, “Y’know, Thalia was a bit jealous too
when you joined the family.”

Her eyes went wide as she searched my face for lies. “Really?”

“Yep. I was looking after you all the time and couldn’t do stuff as just us. But you know
what? After a while, that didn’t matter, because we were family and we stick together. She
loved you just as much as she loved me.”

Annabeth nodded. “Okay, I’m sorry.”

“It’s not me that you have to apologise to. But we can do that in the morning.” I gave her a
kiss on the forehead, “Go to sleep, I’ll wake you up when it’s your turn on watch.”

I watched as she curled up in her own sleeping bag. How quickly she falls asleep, so
innocent. Thalia should be here to see her, to see our family.

‘I’ve protected our family for you. I’ve done what you would’ve. Are you proud of me?’ I
wanted to ask her. ‘Will you be there to greet me in Elysium with a smile?’

I look down to my bag and draw out a small vial. Alabaster’s and Clovis’ sleeping Potion. I
unscrew the top and let a drop fall on my tongue.

‘Would you defy the gods and the Titans with me? Let the world burn for our family?’

I screwed my eyes shut.

My fatal flaw is not Hubris. My fatal flaw is my family.

Chapter End Notes

Hey y'all, Izzy here!

Unfortunately I have a field trip today and won't be able to write or edit with Raven this
afternoon, so instead of y'all missing out on an update, you get to have a longer Luke
POV that didn't make the cut of the last chapter!

We should return back to our normal posting schedule (Wednesdays and Fridays or
Sundays) soon, and even have a double update for you this weekend to make it up for
you. Even better, we're both going on break for two weeks! So I'll be able to write ahead
a bit and maybe even have triweekly updates during the break!

Enjoy this unedited outtake <3

 Into the Darkness, into the Brightness.
Chapter Summary

Not gonna lie- questing is half travelling without dying, half trying to sleep without
divine intervention. Or un-divine intervention. Or is it unholy? I dunno, man, I just miss
having dream-free nights.

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

A gaping pit yawned before me. Around me, a cavern of inky darkness fell home to grey
mist-like creatures. Churning around to a mindless rhythm, they seemed like nothing more
than whispering rags of smoke, but I knew better. These were the spirits of the dead, and they
were in my dreams.

They tugged at my clothes, trying to pull me back, but I felt compelled to walk forward to the
very edge of the chasm.

Looking down made my stomach drop.

The pit stretched so wide and was so completely black, I knew it must be bottomless. Yet I
had a feeling that something was trying to rise from the abyss, something huge and evil.

‘The little hero,’ an amused voice echoed far down in the darkness. ‘Too weak, too young, but
perhaps you will do. ’

The voice felt ancient- cold and heavy. It wrapped around me like sheets of lead. Drowning-
oh gods I’m drowning!

‘They have misled you, girl,’ it crooned. ‘Barter with me. I will give you what you want.’

A shimmering image hovered over the void: my Mãe, frozen at the moment she'd dissolved
in a shower of gold. Her face was distorted with pain as if the Minotaur were still squeezing
her neck. Her eyes looked directly at me, pleading: Go!

I tried to cry out, but my voice wouldn't work.

Cold laughter echoed from the chasm.

An invisible force pulled me forward. It would drag me into the pit unless I stood firm.

‘Help me rise, girl.’ The voice became hungrier. ‘Bring me the bolt. Strike a blow against the
treacherous gods! ’
The spirits of the dead whispered around me, ‘No! Wake! ’

The image of my mother began to fade. The thing in the pit tightened its unseen grip around
me.

I realized it wasn't interested in pulling me in. It was using me to pull itself out.

‘Good,’ it murmured. ‘Good.’

‘Wake!’ the dead whispered. ‘Wake!’

Someone was shaking me.

My eyes opened, and it was daylight.

"Well," Annabeth said, "the zombie lives."

I was trembling from the dream. I could still feel the grip of the chasm monster- Kronos
around my chest. God damn the guy was scary. If I had my way, I would be screaming and
heading straight to the nearest large body of water. I couldn’t- not in the face of Annabeth’s
annoyance and Luke’s concern. "How long was I asleep?" I stifled a yawn instead, forcing
my tremors to stop.

"Long enough for me to cook breakfast." Annabeth tossed me a bag of nacho-flavoured corn
chips from her bag.

“Annabeth,” Luke warned. “Please, I’m not awake enough to be pulling you two apart from a
fight. Stop it with the sass.”

The looks both of us gave him were identical looks of offence. “I’m not being sassy!”
Annabeth cried.

“Bold of you to assume I can fight,” I snipped.

Annabeth was the one rounding on me for that. “You can’t fight? You single-handedly took
down Medusa last night, or have you forgotten?” She raised an eyebrow.

I raised an eyebrow right back. “I’d like to forget about it, thanks. Besides, I was joking.” Her
scowl deepened to truly impressive levels while her mouth opened to no doubt lavish me in
knives of her choosing.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m bad at sarcasm,” I preemptively interrupted and waved her off.

Luke rolled his eyes and grabbed my arm to pull me to my feet. I groaned as I stretched. I
think my back must’ve popped in twenty different places.

Annabeth wrinkled her nose, “Gross.”

“It’s just my spine,” I said, picking up my bag. “It’s not like yours doesn’t pop too.”

“Is that a threat?”

“No.” I smiled innocently. “I will pop your spine like it's popping candy. That is a threat.”

“You are so weird,” Annabeth griped out, looking at me like I’m a particularly insane dolphin
that somehow managed to get into a forest.

Fair enough.

Luke stepped in. “Please, I have a headache. Ophelia, eat your chips. And Annabeth, just
because she’s weird, doesn’t mean you should call her that to her face.”

“You just agreed with me,” she pointed out to Luke. He ignored her.

Fully awake with my bag on my back, I stumbled along with my fellow demi-gods through
the woods.

I’m no better at navigating the wilderness in the daytime than I am at nighttime, and I can
only go a few feet before I start loudly cursing because I almost rolled my ankle again.
Annabeth must’ve learnt many new curse words in the past three hours.

“Fucking whore-son of a puta!” I snarl, yanking my sleeve away from the offending branch it
had gotten stuck on.

“Do you ever stop swearing?” Annabeth asked, breaking away from the silence she had
adopted. “Also, what’s a ‘puta’?”

“I don’t swear in front of children,” I defended myself. “And I don’t always swear, but these
trees are getting on my fucking nerves.” I duck to avoid another tangle with a low hanging
branch. “Puta translates to ‘whore’ in English, but I can also mean many different swear
words or even, ‘child’.” I shrugged. “Depends on the context.”

She eyed me. “How many languages do you speak?”

“I’m Brazilian so I speak Portuguese, and I know Spanish since I have cousins who speak it.”
I hop over a log. Fucking logs man… “English, obviously, and then Greek and Latin. I can
vaguely understand Italian, but don’t ask me to speak it.”

“Huh,” she hummed. “No French? You’ve already got most of the Latin-based languages, but
not French?”

“French is a mutant tongue of beasts!” I spat, gesturing wildly with my hands. “Why the fuck
do they need so many vowels?!”

Annabeth laughed at me. “Enfin, quelque chose que je sais que vous n'avez pas!” (Finally,
something I know that you don’t!)
I narrowed my eyes at her. “I know you said something about me, but I don’t care enough to
understand it.” Then I realised, “Wait, why do you know French?”

“The Aphrodite Cabin are all fluent and some of the best architecture in the world is in
France,” she summarised.

“Ah. You like architecture?” I prodded.

She flushed. “I love it!”

Oooh! This, I gotta expand on. “What’re your thoughts on Modern Minimalism vs Antique
Gothic?” I posed innocently.

And lo, she lights up. “I’m so glad you asked!”

We spent the next hour trading ideas on architecture and interior design. I argued vehemently
that Cottage Core aesthetics and Vintage Gothic architecture were far superior, while she
insisted that Modern has its benefits and that Roman and Greek aesthetics should make a
comeback. I almost wanted to out my future knowledge just to tell her about the disgusting
future Minimalism in Design that becomes popular in the future; it felt like she would have
agreed with me.

Luke butted in after we nearly started screaming at each other about the aesthetics of the
colour brown on exterior walls. “How can you know so much about building design and not
know a single thing about sports?” he asked me incredulously.

I looked at him like he was speaking Parseltongue. “Building design is important while sports
are weird and I cannot see any appeal in it.”

Annabeth backed me up. “Baseball is great, but architecture is superior.”

Luke watched us with amusement as we high-fived each other. He’s probably glad we’re
finally getting along.

“I see now, of course, I was just being silly.” His sarcasm was obvious.

Annabeth and I laughed so hard that we started crying, but that’s okay cause I think I’ve
finally found the secret to getting along with her. Go on about architecture, and voila!
Friends!

Then I tripped.

“Merda!” I shout, falling on my face.

“Looks like we found our ticket west,” Luke pointed out.

I looked over to see what had tripped me up. There were train tracks right through the middle
of the clearing, half-covered by leaves.
“Well, guess that’s one way to do it,” I muttered, brushing myself off with all my non-
existent dignity. “So we which direction do we pick? Also, why the fuck is there a train track
in the middle of an ass-backwards forest?”

Annabeth pointed, and we walked.

I never did get an answer to that last question.

When we got to the Amtrak station, the only train going west was at noon, so we had to chill
at the station for another three hours.

After Luke had brought us our tickets using most of the money we brought from Camp, he
wandered off to go pickpocket strangers for more cash so we could buy an actual lunch.
Annabeth just nodded at this and quickly pointed out some areas she had noticed where
pickpocketing could be easier for Luke. They discussed some other things that were
definitely illegal before waving each other off.

They acted like they had done stuff like this enough times for it to become a habit.

Thing is, they have, and I couldn’t even begrudge them for it.

“Sit on the bench, don’t wander, and don’t cause any property damage!” Luke shot over his
shoulder before disappearing into the masses.

“Oi!” I yelped before quieting down with a mumble as Annabeth shot me a pointed look. Just
because that does sound like what an unsupervised small demi-god may do if they got bored
doesn’t mean he can’t have a bit more faith in us! Or, well, at least acted like he has more
faith in us.

Annabeth busied herself by pouring over a map, trying to figure out our quickest route to LA
with a highlighter that she got from inside her bag. The Daughter of Athena carries
highlighters on a quest to prevent World War 3, go figure.

I peered over her shoulder. She had highlighted a route that would take us straight through
the country but ends up in San Francisco. I winced; we should stay as far away as possible
from the Romans right now.

“Maybe instead of that route we could go until Denver, transfer to a Greyhound up to Vagas,
then grab a Taxi to LA?” I suggested.

She gave me a look. “Why would we switch from a train to a Greyhound in Denver? That
may be the last stop but another company can get us all the way to San Fransico. And what
would we be stopping in Vegas for?”

“A Greyhound would be cheaper than another train ticket,” I insisted. “And we can stop in
Vegas for a night in a hotel! I don’t know about you, but I could use a bed after travelling for
so long, and we’ll still have plenty of time to spare too!”
Annabeth just looked at me flatly. “You are such a Seaweed brain. This is a quest; we have no
time for luxuries or saving money. We’re taking the train to San Francisco.”

I sighed in defeat. Well, Ares messed up the route once, he’ll probably do it again. If not, I
can hijack the trip. It was just a matter of when, how many monsters are around, and how
much distraction would it take for us to miss that train…

We were silent for a few minutes as I idly swung my feet and Annabeth focused on her map
before she suddenly spoke up.

“Luke says you’re family,” Annabeth said, not looking up from her map.

I blinked. “Truly?”

“Yeah.” She looked up. “I haven’t had to share him before, only Thalia was also family.”

A warm feeling bubbled up in my chest before I squashed it down. I’m only included because
I’ve been manipulating him - I forced him to become my soulmate without him knowing. He
doesn’t actually like me. No way someone would consider a stranger family after only two
weeks.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I know I don’t belong. I’m just intruding.”

Annabeth grabbed my arm and I flinched.

“No,” she spoke firmly, “You belong.” She took a deep breath, blinked twice, then rushed
out, “I was the one forcing you away. I’m sorry.” Her grey eyes bored into mine.

“I… ” I was speechless. Was she only doing this because Luke told her to? “Annabeth, I
don’t- ”

She cut me off. “You’re family,” she reinforced. “I may not like sharing, but I’m glad to have
a new little sister.”

“I’m not little!” I indignantly replied. “I’m more mature than you!”

She grinned. “But I’m older than you by a month!”

I gaped at her for a second before reaching out to grab her in a hug. She stiffened up before
relaxing, cautiously running her hands down my back.

“I’ve never had a sibling,” I murmured into her shoulder. “You’re going to have to guide me
on that one.”

By the time she pulled back, she was beaming. “Duh! First rule: We get to make fun of Luke
when he’s not here because little siblings are annoying that way.”

I burst into giggles and she joined in. We were giggling so hard that when I fell off the bench,
we didn’t even pause, only laughing harder. A few people gave us looks as they passed, but
they moved off, hurrying to catch their own trains.
 Luke found us like that, holding our ribs in pain as we laughed too hard.

“I see that someone has made up,” he snarked. “I guess since you’re so busy laughing, I get
to eat all this delicious McDonalds by myself.” Waving around a big bag of warm
cheeseburgers, he wafted the smell in our faces before casually strolling off.

“No!” Annabeth shrieked, lunging at him.

“Not my fries!” I proclaimed dramatically. “Not my innocent fries!”

He turned back only to give us a stern glare. It lasted all of ten seconds before he started
sniggering.

That got us all laughing again.

You know, when I look back on it, that’s one of my favourite memories of the whole quest;
the first time I felt like we’re a family. Together.

Chapter End Notes

Izzy: Bruh, I’m not American so I physically have to stop myself from writing meters,
cm, and kilometres for distances; it drives me insane. Also we don’t have a plan for this
chapter and beyond (other than a few important scenes), so I’m just winging it. This is
basically a filler chapter.

Raven: The in-between parts of questing (a.k.a. The journey in general) is…
surprisingly hard to write. I reckon it’s the lack of action. A lack of action when there
are only three concrete characters to write with is more boring than I thought it would
be.

Izzy: Speak for yourself; I love writing ‘lack of action’ because I can focus on character
development and their arcs! I’m just annoyed because I had no plan and had to come up
with an outline this morning.

Raven: Welcome to the life of self-imposed update times; the readers love it, the writers
love-hate it.
 ‘AAAAAAAH’ is my internal monologue for today.
Chapter Summary

Be it emotional screaming or pained screaming, I just can’t get a break today, can I?

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

We spent two days on the Amtrak train, heading west through hills, over rivers, and past
amber waves of grain. We weren't attacked, not even once, but I didn't relax.

I felt that we were travelling around in a display case, being watched from above and maybe
from below, that something was just waiting, waiting for the right opportunity. It could be my
unhealthy levels of paranoia speaking, but when you’re wanted by the normies and the
mystics, I prefer to call it, ‘having a survival instinct.’

Or we can all just call it good old fashioned paranoia. Does it really matter?

My name and picture were all over several newspapers. They’d somehow managed to get a
photo of me in front of the exploded bus which had somehow ended up on the front-page to
no less than five East Coast newspapers. I looked half-feral; Riptide was a blur that almost
looked like a baseball bat while my water whip appeared to be a length of rope.

The picture's caption read:

Twelve-year-old Persephone Jackson, wanted for questioning in the Long Island

disappearance of her mother two weeks ago, is shown here fleeing from the bus where he
accosted several elderly female passengers. The bus exploded on an east New Jersey roadside
shortly after Jackson fled the scene. Based on eyewitness accounts, police believe the girl
may be travelling with two teenage accomplices. Her stepfather, Gabe Ugliano, has offered a
cash reward for information leading to her capture.

"Don't worry," Annabeth told me. "Mortal police could never find us." She didn't sound so
sure, but I appreciated the sentiment. Worst come to worst, water works on monsters and
mortals alike.

The rest of the day I spent alternately pacing the length of the train or staring out the
windows. I couldn’t sit still. It was like the train was a cage, and I was the lion.

Once, while looking out the window, I saw a family of centaurs galloping across a wheat
field, bows at the ready, as they hunted for what appeared to be lunch. The little boy centaur,
who was the size of a second-grader on a pony, caught my eye and waved. I enthusiastically
waved back. Awww, he’s adorable!
Closer to the evening, I saw a golden lion bounding through the woods at an incredible speed,
keeping up with the train for a few seconds, before disappearing out of sight. I also spotted a
moving tree. No, not like a nymph; a giant fucking tree just got up and started to stretch, like
it was an Ent from Lord of the Rings. Wack, man. Wack.

The train line only went as far as Denver, and- since we paid to go half-way across the
country- we couldn’t only afford to get berths in the sleeper car, so we dozed in our seats. I
think my neck became stiffer than a corpse. I tried not to drool in my sleep since Annabeth
was sitting right next to me. Fuck if I know I succeeded.

Luke was taking a well-needed nap, curled up along the row of seats in the compartment.
Judging by the way he conked out, it didn’t seem like he would be awake for even a monster
attack.

"So," Annabeth asked me, during a sleepless bout for the both of us. "Who wants your help?"

Okay. What? "What do you mean?" I mumbled.

"When you were asleep just now, you muttered, 'I won't help you.' Who were you dreaming
about?"

Look, I didn’t really want to tell her anything. What if she figured out I was dreaming about
Kronos? What if she became more suspicious than a cat faced with a laser pointer? What if
she gutted me or something? But the point is, I had only just recently gotten her trust. Luke
was fully immersed in La La Land, so with no help from that front, I reluctantly explained in
the vaguest terms I could.

Annabeth went quiet for a long time. "That doesn't sound like Hades,” she abruptly spoke just
as I was about to doze off. “He always appears on a black throne, and he never laughs."

"He offered my mother in trade. Who else could do that?" I whispered back.

"I guess... if he meant, 'Help me rise from the Underworld' as in he wants war with the
Olympians. But why ask you to bring him the master bolt if he already has it?"

I shook my head, I knew the answer but couldn’t tell her. I thought about what Grover had
told me, then to how the Furies on the bus seemed to have been looking for something.
Where is it? Where?

"Percy, you can't barter with Hades. You know that, right? He's deceitful, heartless, and
greedy. I don't care if his Kindly Ones weren't as aggressive this time- "

"This time?" I asked. "You mean you've run into them before?"

Her hand crept up to her necklace. She fingered a glazed white bead painted with the image
of a pine tree, one of her clay end-of-summer tokens. "Let's just say I've got no love for the
Lord of the Dead. You can't be tempted to make a deal for your mom."

"What would you do if it was your dad?" I pressed. Surely, she’s got to understand my point
of view?
"That's easy," she said. "I'd leave him to rot."

"You're not serious?" I’ve had my own experiences with bad parents in my past life, and Pai
isn’t really Dad of the Year, but I would never just leave them to die. I may be a petty,
morally grey bitch, but I wouldn’t wish my parents dead. Not with me being who I am, not
with them being who they are.

Annabeth's grey eyes glinted like the spear her mother was famous for. She wore the same
expression she'd worn in the woods at camp, the moment she drew her sword against the
hellhound. "My dad's resented me since the day I was born, Percy," she said. "He never
wanted a baby. When he got me, he asked Athena to take me back and raise me on Olympus
because he was too busy with his work. She wasn't happy about that. She told him heroes had
to be raised by their mortal parent."

"But how... I mean, I guess you weren't born in a hospital...." I knew the answer, of course,
but she doesn’t know that I know.

"I appeared on my father's doorstep, in a golden cradle, carried down from Olympus by
Zephyr the West Wind. You'd think my dad would remember that as a miracle, right? Like,
maybe he'd take some digital photos or something. But he always talked about my arrival as
if it were the most inconvenient thing that had ever happened to him. When I was five he got
married and totally forgot about Athena. He got a 'regular' mortal wife, and had two 'regular'
mortal kids, and tried to pretend I didn't exist."

I looked out the train window. The lights of a sleeping town were drifting lazily by, blinking
sleepily out of sight. I’m not very good at reassuring others, but I can do empathy. Hopefully.
With that in mind, I turned back around.

"My mom married a really awful guy," I told her softly. "Grover said she did it to protect me,
to hide me in the scent of a human family. Thing is, I don’t care; I would’ve rather been left
to the monsters than have to live with his abusive ass."

Annabeth kept fiddling with her necklace. She was pinching the gold college ring that hung
with the beads. Something told me it had something to do with her father, and it wasn’t just
the way she gingerly touched it. "He doesn't care about me," she said. "His wife- my
stepmom- treats me like a freak. She wouldn't let me play with her children. My dad went
along with her. Whenever something dangerous happened- you know, something with
monsters- they would both look at me resentfully, like, 'How dare you put our family at risk.'
Finally, I took the hint. I wasn't wanted. I ran away."

"How old were you?"

"Same age as when I started camp. Seven."

I knew this, but my heart throbbed all the same. “You were a child. That’s not right. How in
the world did you get all the way to Camp alone?”

"Not alone, no. Athena watched over me, guided me toward help. And then Luke found me,
and Thalia, and we became a family together."
I wanted to ask what happened, to shoulder a bit more of that burden, but Annabeth seemed
lost in sad memories. Instead, I carefully dragged her head to my shoulder, and just… held
her. She relaxed a bit, which was what I was going for, so we just sat there. Her with ghosts
for company, and me listening to the sound of my heart breaking for any and all lost demigod
children. The dark fields of Ohio raced by us. Eventually, we fell into a fitful sleep.

Toward the end of our second day on the train, June 13, eight days before the summer
solstice, we passed through some golden hills and over the Mississippi River into St. Louis.
Annabeth craned her neck to see the Gateway Arch.

"I want to do that," she sighed out.

"What?" I asked.

"Build something like that. Have you ever seen the Parthenon, Percy?"

I thought back to my holiday in Athens in my past life; I visited the Acropolis and spent a
whole day there. I also remember that my nerdy dumbass self had started crying over the
great shape that the Herms were in.

“Yeah,” I say wistfully. “It was beautiful.”

"Someday, I'm going to see it in person. I'm going to build the greatest monument to the
gods, ever. Something that'll last a thousand years."

“To the gods?” I questioned.

“Huh?”

“Why build a monument to the gods when you can build one for yourself? Your family and
friends? Your achievements?”

She gave me a weird look, the one that everyone gives when I suggest something perfectly
reasonable. “Because they’re the gods. And building something that will last is going to be
my achievement.”

“Okay.”

She’s still young, I can’t expect her to think critically about this as an adult would.

We pulled into the Amtrak station downtown. The intercom told us we'd have a three-hour
layover before departing for Denver.

Luke, like the vigilant single dad he is, grabbed us by the scruff of our necks and dragged us
off the train. “We can stop for dinner at a Burger King and then we’re heading straight back
to the station,” he ordered.
“But Luke!” Annabeth immediately started. “We have to go see the arch! This may be my
only opportunity to visit it.”

He looked at her incredulously, “You want to go sightseeing on a quest?”

“Yes.”

I internally debated it for a second before remembering important stuff happens on the arch. I
need those mystical pearls! Also, I want to clean myself off in the river. Showers are the stuff
of myths when you’re on a quest. “I wanna go see it too! And we can eat there, I think it has
a snack-bar.”

Luke crumples under the weight of our combined puppy eyes. Annabeth and I fist-bump.

The Arch was about a mile from the train station. Late in the day the lines to get in weren't
that long. We threaded our way through the underground museum, peering at covered wagons
and other junk from the 1800s. It was fascinating, Annabeth kept telling us interesting facts
about how the Arch was built, and Luke kept passing me jelly beans.

But something felt wrong to me. I had a feeling we shouldn't be here.

"Guys," I said. "You know the gods' symbols of power?"

Annabeth had been in the middle of reading about the construction equipment used to build
the Arch, but she looked over. "Yeah?"

"Well, Hade-"

Luke cleared his throat. "We're in a public place... You mean, our friend downstairs?"

"He’s definitely not our mate, but worm," I said. "Our friend way downstairs. Doesn't he have
a hat like Annabeth's?"

"Worm?” she questioned, before moving on with a dismissive shake. “You mean the Helm of
Darkness," Annabeth said. "Yeah, that's his symbol of power. I saw it next to his seat during
the winter solstice council meeting."

"He was there?" I asked.

She nodded. "It's the only time he's allowed to visit Olympus- the darkest day of the year. But
his helm is a lot more powerful than my invisibility hat if what I've heard is true...."

"It allows him to become darkness," Luke confirmed. "He can melt into shadow or pass
through walls. He can't be touched, or seen, or heard. He can also radiate fear so intense it
would either drive you insane or stop your heart. Why do you think all rational creatures fear
the dark?"

"But then ... how do we know he's not here right now, watching us?" I asked.
Annabeth and Luke exchanged looks.

"We don't," Luke said. “But I doubt that he’s watching three half-bloods all the time.”

"Okay," I sighed. "Got any blue jelly beans left?"

Luke handed me the entire bag.

I had almost mastered my jumpy nerves when I saw the tiny little elevator car we were going
to ride to the top of the Arch. My inner alarm went, ‘Trouble! Trouble! Trouble!.’ I hate
confined places. They make me nuts.

We got shoehorned into the car with this big fat lady and her dog, a Chihuahua with a
rhinestone collar. I already knew they were monsters, but the fact that none of the guards said
a word about the dog coming too cemented it.

We started going up, inside the Arch. I'd never been in an elevator that went in a curve
before, and my stomach had thanked me for it.

"No parents?" the fat lady who-is-actually-a-monster asked us. She possessed beady eyes;
pointy, coffee-stained teeth; a floppy denim hat, and a denim dress that bulged so much, she
looked like a blue-jean blimp.

Luke gave her a tense smile. “I’m just taking my little sisters out for the day.” Then he tucked
us both under his arms, hiding us from her sight.

"Ah, what a good brother."

The Chihuahua growled. The woman said, "Now, now, sonny. Behave." The dog had beady
eyes like its owner; intelligent and vicious.

I said, "Sonny. Is that his name?"

"No," the lady told me.

She smiled as if that had cleared everything up.

Yep, definitely a monster. Fuck, I wish I didn’t leave my journal back at Camp; I totally
forgot what’s gonna happen next.

Riptide sat heavily on my head.

At the top of the Arch, the observation deck reminded me of a tin can with carpeting. Rows
of tiny windows looked out over the city on one side and the river on the other. The view was
okay, but if there's anything I like less than a confined space, it's a confined space six hundred
feet in the air. I was ready to go pretty quick.

Annabeth kept talking about structural supports, and how she would've made the windows
bigger, and designed a see-through floor. She probably could've stayed up there for hours, but
luckily for me, the park ranger announced that the observation deck would be closing in a
few minutes.

I steered Luke and Annabeth toward the exit, loaded them into the elevator, and I was about
to get in myself when I realized there were already two other tourists inside. No room for me.

The park ranger said, "Next car, sir."

"We'll get out," Annabeth said. "We'll wait with you."

But that was going to mess everybody up and take even more time, so I said, "Naw, it's okay.
I'll see you guys at the bottom."

Luke looked nervous and was about to step out with Annabeth, but the elevator door slid shut
despite his audible protests towards the park ranger. Their car disappeared down the ramp.

Now the only people left on the observation deck were me, a little boy with his parents, the
park ranger, and the fat monster-lady with her Chihuahua.

I smiled uneasily at her. My hand was already reaching for Riptide in my hair, pretending to
scratch an itch on my scalp.

She smiled back, her forked tongue flickering between her teeth.

Wait a minute. Forked tongue? Fuck, fuck, fuck. I hate being a Half-blood.

Before I could react by getting the fuck out of there, her Chihuahua jumped down and started
yapping at me.

"Now, now, sonny," the monster-lady said. "Does this look like a good time? We have all
these nice people here."

"Doggie!" said the little boy. "Look, a doggie!" His parents pulled him back. Good call.

The Chihuahua bared his teeth at me, foam dripping from his black lips.

"Well, son," the fat lady sighed. "If you insist."

“Please tell me you’re not about to attack me.” I asked her, “Please, I’m so fucking tired, I
don’t wanna fight right now.”

“I am,” she laughed out, her pointed teeth coming up in a snarl.

She rolled up her denim sleeves, revealing that the skin of her arms was scaly and green.
When she smiled, I saw that her teeth were fangs. The pupils of her eyes were side-ways slits,
like a reptile's.

The Chihuahua barked louder, and with each bark, it grew. First to the size of a Doberman,
then to a lion. The bark became a roar.
The little boy screamed. His parents pulled him back toward the exit, straight into the park
ranger, who stood, paralyzed, gaping at the monster.

The Chimera was now so tall its back rubbed against the roof. It had the head of a lion with a
blood-caked mane, the body and hooves of a giant goat, and a serpent for a tail, a ten-foot-
long diamondback growing right out of its shaggy behind. The rhinestone dog collar still
hung around its neck, and the plate-sized dog tag was now easy to read: CHIMERA-RABID,
FIRE-BREATHING, POISONOUS-IF FOUND, PLEASE CALL TARTARUS-EXT. 954

Riptide the sword sat tightly in my hands. My palms were sweaty as I took my situation in. I
was ten feet away from the Chimera's bloody maw, and I knew that as soon as I moved, the
creature would lunge.

Wait. Fuck. Isn’t this the part where I have to jump out of a national monument?

The snake lady made a hissing noise that might've been laughter. "Be honoured, Persephone
Jackson. Lord Zeus rarely allows me to test a hero with one of my brood. For I am the
Mother of Monsters, the terrible Echidna!"

My ADHD decided to come out at the worst of times. “If you’re the mother, who’s the
father?”

She gave me an annoyed look. “Foolish Jackson, my son shall destroy you!"

The Chimera charged, its lion teeth gnashing. I managed to leap aside and dodge the bite.

I ended up next to the family and the park ranger, who were all screaming now, trying to pry
open the emergency exit doors.

I couldn't let them get hurt.

In a moment of creative panic, I used the little kid’s water bottle and blasted the door frames.
The whole thing crumbled under the force of the water and my urgency, thank the gods. They
ran out.

Okay, mortals? Check. Nobody else around? Double-check. I promptly turned in the direction
of the glass windows facing the river.

“Stop her, sonny!” Echidna, the bitch, snarled out.

The Chimera reacted faster than I would've thought possible. Before I could wreck a hole into
the glass, it opened its mouth, emitting a stench like the world's largest barbecue pit, and shot
a column of flame straight at me.

I dove through the explosion. The carpet burst into flames; the heat was so intense, it felt like
I was about to become Princess Zuko.

Not the time, brain.

Where I had been standing a moment before was a ragged hole in the side of the Arch, with
melted metal steaming around the edges.

Great, I just blow-torched a national monument. I’m definitely on the FBI’s most-wanted list
now!

As the Chimera turned, I slashed at what should be his weak spot; his neck.

That was a fucking mistake. My blade sparked harmlessly off the weird dog collar, knocking
me out of balance. I tried to defend myself from the lion’s mouth that was taking advantage
of my disorientation, but completely forgot about the serpent tail until it whipped around and
sank its fangs into my calf.

My whole leg was on fucking fire. I really, truly hate being a Half-blood.

I tried to jab Riptide into the Chimera's mouth, but the serpent tail wrapped around my ankles
and pulled me off balance, and my blade flew out of my hand, spinning out of the hole in the
Arch and down toward the Mississippi River.

Great. Bye-bye fucko, please come back soon.

“Hah!” I shouted, bringing my precious supply of water around like a blade. The serpent let
go with a hiss. It must not like being decapitated, good to know.

I managed to get to my feet, but I knew I had lost. I was nigh weaponless, and my water
would do jack against that barbeque breath. I could feel deadly poison racing up to my chest,
sapping at my energy. Riptide should return to me soon, but with the way things were going,
I wasn't going to live long enough to find out.

Judging by that malicious glimmer in the beasts’ eyes, he knew it too.

I backed into the hole in the wall. The Chimera advanced, growling, smoke curling from its
lips.

The snake lady, Echidna, cackled. "They don't make heroes like they used to, eh, son?"

The monster growled. It seemed in no hurry to finish me off now that I was beaten. It was
fucking playing with its food like a feline.

I couldn't just... die. I tried to think, but my whole body was on fire. My head felt dizzy. I had
no sword. I was facing a massive, fire-breathing monster and its mother. I had water, but I
doubt this small amount could help.

Y’know what? I’m not going to stick around and find out what happens next.

I stepped to the edge of the hole.

Far, far below, the river glittered.

 "If you are the daughter of Poseidon," Echidna hissed, "you would not fear water. Jump,
Persephone Jackson. Show me that water will not harm you. Jump and retrieve your sword.
Prove your bloodline."

I gave her a cheeky grin. “Sure!” I told her, before sticking up my middle fingers, tall and
proud. “Fuck this shit- I’m out!”

The last thing I saw was her disbelieving face.

I turned and jumped. With my clothes on fire and poison coursing through my veins, I
plummeted toward the river.

Well, this could be worse. The river could be more polluted, for example.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll get to panicking in just a sec.

Chapter End Notes

Izzy: So like, update! I’m tired af and sick, so this is the chapter that took the second-
longest to write. Please enjoy it, I cannot with my headache.

Also, I’m going to be standardising the update schedule so it’s easier for y’all to keep
up. Wednesdays and Friday or Sunday in Pacific Standard Time; if we miss an update on
a Wednesday, you’ll get an interlude on the day instead, if we miss an update on a
Friday (likely to be often), you’ll get the update on a Sunday. Capiche?

Raven: Ophelia has this bad habit of monologuing every other paragraph in a fight
scene. We really need to get her to focus more. Anyways, I’m kinda sad she didn’t
drown the Chimera by punting it off the arch and into the river, but being poisoned and
not thinking straight would do that to you sooooo. Yeah.

Izzy: Ophelia is an ADHD Queen with her non-focus in important situations.

Raven: I would like to reiterate; Need. To. Focus. More. Ah well, she’ll learn.
 The Mississippi is a remarkably good place for a breakdown.
Chapter Summary

We’re into the sea, into the sea, into the seaaaaaa~! Now replace sea with ‘woods,’ and
replace that with ‘river,’ and we have ourselves a reference!

Ahem. On with the breakdown.

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Look, I’ve already died once. Thing is, a nice, cushy life really doesn’t prepare you for doing
the one-two with Death more often than I passed English.

The last time I died, I had the luxury of a slow death. I had bled out amidst a carpet of red,
waiting for the end, resigned and more scared than a skydiver with a malfunctioning
parachute. As pain-filled as my mind had been, I still had the opportunity to rewind my life
and think of all my regrets; everything I would’ve done differently, all I still wanted to do,
how many people I should’ve said goodbye to that day… Heh. Now that I think about it, I’m
almost grateful- it had made my rebirth all the more bittersweet. I had goals now, that same
stuff I had been all but allergic to; all that was needed to kick my ass into gear was a narrowly
missed appointment with the Grim Reaper. How fucking pathetic is that?

This time, as I fell down to the Mississippi River, there was no such thing as my life flashing
before my eyes. No, if anything, life had somehow tapped into the Speed Force and was long
gone before my little mortal brain could even begin to process it. I technically knew that I
would survive this- water is my Pai’s domain- and the logical voice in my brain was calmer
than a cat on the last free couch space.

Of course, that didn’t stop me from screaming my lungs out on the way down because-

“OH FUCK, OH SHIT, OH FUCK! I’M GONNA DIE! I’M TOO YOUNG TO DIE!”

Needless to say, I did not die.

The river rose up to greet me like an old friend. I sank softly into the grip of the white
bubbles, the murky gloom cushioning my fall, and any resulting impact didn’t hurt a bit. I
settled on the river bottom soundlessly. A catfish the size of a fridge lurched away into the
gloom. Clouds of silt and disgusting garbage- beer bottles, old shoes, and plastic bags swirled
up all around me.

I was unharmed. Any lingering agony from the Chimera’s poison had dulled into a soft ache.
With every second underwater, it seemed to ebb away into a phantom nothingness. I bubbled
out a sigh of relief; what was it that they say? You can only have pleasure if you first
experience pain? Well, I can assure you I’m on a fucking high from, ‘Polluted River
Painkillers.’ That’s right- ‘PRP,’ the newly discovered divine miracle!

Suitable for sea-spawn only. Attempt at your own risk. Terms and conditions apply. Thank
you. Come again after you’re fatally poisoned!

Okay, yeah, fine, I may be a bit loopy from my adrenaline high- sue me!

Looking around, the scene was almost familiar. Me, sitting in a heavily polluted river,
completely dry and breathing underwater, with repulsive evidence of human incompetency
swirling around in chunky pieces. Dancing currents rushed by with the occasional water-
dweller curiously swimming pass, and despite it all, I’ve never felt more relaxed.

I am a part of the sea, the sea is a part of me; so it has been, and so it shall remain.

As I floated around, waiting for the poison to be completely neutralized, my mind drifted
back to the early days; practising my power in the Hudson while hiding from Gabe. The god
residing there was as bristly as they came, but I had worn him down eventually. Those days
were so nice, and the water was nice, and the healing was nice…

Content with my memories, I closed my eyes and just…drifted.

Something hits my hand. I blink down slowly at the innocent-looking light before shaking
my head. I slap my hands to my cheeks. Once. Twice.

Focus on the mission, Ophelia. No time for naps on a quest to save the fucking world- what
would Luke and Annabeth think?

“Thanks, Papai!” I call out. Whether or not he actually helped me, I did inherit my powers
from him. Can’t lose anything by being grateful.

There was no response, but I wasn’t really expecting one.

Fump-fump-fump. A riverboat's paddlewheel churned above me, swirling the silt around.

There, not five feet in front of me, was my sword. Its gleaming bronze hilt stuck up from the
mud, a beacon that I hastily obeyed.

Swimming forward to grab it, I watched as it transformed from a sharp blade to a small,
bronze and blue ring. “What the fuck?” I muttered, putting it on. “Make up your mind you
stupid fucking weapon.”

“Language,” a woman’s voice chided me, “A princess of the sea should not be so crude.”

My head flew up to see her. A woman the colour of the water, a ghost in the current, floating
just in front of me. She had long billowing hair, and her eyes- barely visible- were green like
mine.
“Sorry Ma’am,” I replied, ducking my head. She looks just like my Mãe- it was almost like
she was here just to scold me for swearing.

“I am a messenger. Your mother's fate is not as hopeless as you believe. Go to the beach in
Santa Monica.”

“What?"

“It is your father's will. Before you descend into the Underworld, you must go to Santa
Monica. Please, Persephone, I cannot stay long. The river here is too foul for my presence.”

“I understand. But why? Can you tell me more?” I pleaded. I understand why Pai wants me
to do so, that’s how I get the pearls to escape the Underworld, but something else is going on.

“I cannot stay, brave one,” the woman said. She reached out, and I felt the current brush my
face like a caress. “You must go to Santa Monica! And, Persephone, do not trust the gifts...”

Her voice faded- no more material than her body.

"Gifts?" I asked. "What gifts? Wait!"

She made one more attempt to speak, but the sound was gone. Her image melted away.

“Fuck!” I scream out my frustrations. “Fucking damn it!”

How did she know to warn me about the gifts? How did she know Ares was going to gift me
the Master Bolt? She said she was a messenger from Pai- does he know? Argh! What the
fuck is actually going on? It’s like the Chiron-Camp-Gods conspiracy theory all over again!

I let out a wordless yell, sending all the floating rubbish away from me in a strong wave. The
water around me glowed a cleansing blue, my rage destroying all that didn’t belong.

“MOTHERFUCKER!” I stamped my foot. The water swirled and rippled, all sharp edges
and biting speed.

I want to cry. I want to drown. Why do I have to do this? Why can’t I just rest?

I crumpled to my knees, salty tears immediately joining the river water. Why me?

The currents churned on.

Either a year or a second could have passed by the time I moved, but it was probably only a
few minutes.

The police and news teams were already on the shore. Homeland Security or the FBI would
show up soon enough. I have to move before they start combing the river for my body.

I came ashore next to a floating McDonald's.

A block away, every emergency vehicle in St. Louis was surrounding the Arch. Police
helicopters circled overhead. The crowd of onlookers reminded me of Times Square on New
Year's Eve.

A little girl said, "Mama! That girl walked out of the river."

"That's nice, dear," her mother said, craning her neck to watch the ambulances.

"But she's dry!"

"That's nice, dear."

Cynically, I flashed the kid a peace sign before moving on and melding with the crowd.

A news lady was talking for the camera: "Probably not a terrorist attack, we're told, but it's
still very early in the investigation. The damage, as you can see, is very serious. We're trying
to get to some of the survivors, to question them about eyewitness reports of someone falling
from the Arch."

Survivors. The family and park ranger made it out safely. Strangely enough, the relief at that
thought didn’t even move me.

I tried to push through the crowd to see what was going on inside the police line.

"... an adolescent girl," another reporter was saying. "Channel Five has learned that
surveillance cameras show an adolescent girl going wild on the observation deck, somehow
setting off this freak explosion. Hard to believe, John, but that's what we're hearing. Again,
no confirmed fatalities ..."

I backed away, trying to keep my head down. I had to go a long way around the police
perimeter. Uniformed officers and news reporters were everywhere.

I'd almost lost hope of ever finding Annabeth and Luke when a familiar voice yelled,
“Percy!” I turned and got tackled by Luke who shoved me into a bearhug. He said,
"Persephone Ophelia Jackson! You foolish child, you could’ve died!"

I returned his crushing grip, holding onto him like he’s my only lifeline. Neither of us
mentioned the growing wetness on his hoodie.

Annabeth stood behind him, trying to look angry, but her eyes were softer than they could’ve
been. "We can't leave you alone for five minutes! What happened?"

I tried a weak joke. "I sort of fell."

"Percy! Six hundred and thirty feet?"

Behind us, a cop shouted, "Gangway!"

The crowd parted, and a couple of paramedics hustled out, rolling a woman on a stretcher. I
recognized her immediately as the mother of the little boy who'd been on the observation
 deck.

She was saying, "And then this huge dog, this huge fire-breathing Chihuahua-"

"Okay, ma'am," the paramedic said. "Just calm down. Your family is fine. The medication is
starting to kick in."

"I'm not crazy! This girl jumped out of the hole and the monster disappeared." Then she saw
me. "There she is! That's the girl!"

Luke quickly turned, hiding me with his body and pulling Annabeth after us. We disappeared
into the crowd.

"What's going on?" Annabeth demanded. "Was she talking about the Chihuahua on the
elevator?"

I told them the whole story of the Chimera, Echidna, my high-dive act, and the underwater
lady's message. There were a few tears as my tale went on, but Luke didn’t stop hugging me
and Annabeth rubbed my arm in sympathy.

“It seems that we have to get you to Santa Monica,” Luke said almost bitterly. “You can’t
ignore a summons from your father.”

Before Annabeth could respond, we passed another reporter doing a news break, and I almost
froze in my tracks when he said, "Persephone Jackson. That's right, Dan. Channel Twelve has
learned that the girl who may have caused this explosion fits the description of a young
woman wanted by authorities for a serious New Jersey bus accident three days ago. And the
girl is believed to be travelling west. For our viewers at home, here is a photo of Persephone
Jackson."

We ducked around the news van and slipped into an alley.

“I really think we should get the hell out of dodge, right now,” I told my friends. Annabeth
nodded wordlessly, and Luke pulled out the scarf Drew gave me from my bag so I could
wrap it around my head and obscure my face.

Somehow, we made it back to the Amtrak station without getting spotted. We got on board
the train just before it pulled out for Denver.

The train trundled west as darkness fell, police lights still pulsing against the St. Louis
skyline behind us.

Chapter End Notes

Izzy: Hey guys, another update for y’all! I’ve been sick all week (not COVID!), but I’ve
managed to get a short chapter out for you guys! I’ve also started to pre-write the next
chapter (which is so long! Ugh, it’s gonna end up being 5k) for Sunday.

Also, Announcement! I’ll be writing a prequel to this fic named ‘For Fucks Sake, I’ve
got to grow up again?’ where it’ll show moments of Ophelia’s childhood in short
chapters! That’ll be up on Friday, pacific standard time, for you to read!

I’ve got a question for everyone: Should we cross-post this on FF.net? We can, but only
if you guys actually want us to.

Raven: Yeah, in order for us both to have access to editing rights of this fic on FF.net
we’re planning on creating a brand new account that we both use. As you can imagine,
it’s a bit of a hassle, so we’re waiting for you guys’ response.

Also, Izzy doesn’t understand the summary reference at all. I’ll be the first to admit that
it’s pretty obscure and not even a good reference to boot, but gimme a break guys, I’ve
been writing all the summaries, so they can’t all be good!

Izzy: Yeah, if you follow my other stories you know that I’m shit at summaries. I
actually failed (the only ever) English test in middle school because I couldn’t
summarize things well.

Raven: Eh, I’d say that the summarizing period of middle school was hell for pretty
much everyone. At least teach us how to write essays instead of summaries so we can
apply it to College! (P.S, I’m a New Zealander, and we call high-school, ‘College.’ Uni
is Uni, okay?)
 Note to self: side-quests and everything about them, including
Ares the little bitch boy, sucks.
Chapter Summary

Side-quests deserve a special place at the foot of the throne in Tartarus. Tick-tock, little
heroes, and don’t let the trauma snap… After all, the world depends on it.

Chapter Notes

Trigger Warning for Mental Breakdown and Vomit

See the end of the chapter for more notes

The next afternoon, June 14, seven days before the solstice, our train rolled into Denver. We
haven’t eaten since early that morning ‘cause Luke said we have to save money for our next
train heading to San Francisco (That I was still trying to talk them out of!). Luke and
Annabeth hadn’t had a shower since we left Camp and since I had bathed in a polluted river,
we didn’t really think that counted.

"Let's try to contact Chiron," Annabeth said. "I want to tell him about your talk with the river
spirit."

“But we can’t use phones?” I questioned.

"I'm not talking about phones," she responded, and that was that.

Why does nobody ever actually answer my questions properly? I mean, I knew the answer to
this one, but what if I didn’t have my past-life cheat? What then?

We wandered through downtown for about half an hour, though I wasn't sure what Annabeth
was looking for. The air was dry and hot, which felt weird after the humidity of St. Louis.
Everywhere we turned, the Rocky Mountains seemed to be staring at me, like a tidal wave
about to crash into the city.

Finally, we found an empty do-it-yourself car wash. We veered toward the stall farthest from
the street, keeping our eyes open for patrol cars. Three teenagers hanging out a car-wash?
One of them a Latina? Ten bucks on a cop trying to arrest me for drug dealing or some other
bullshit.

"What exactly are we doing?" I asked as she took out the spray gun.
"It's seventy-five cents," Luke dug into his pockets for spare change. “Got it!”

"We could do it with a spray bottle, of course, but the connection isn't as good, and my arm
gets tired of pumping," he said in a very by-the-way tone to me.

"What do you mean? What are you doing?"

He fed in the quarters and set the knob to FINE MIST. "I-M'ing."

“I have no idea what that means,” I point out, “I found out I’m a demigod two weeks ago,
remember?”

"Iris-messaging," Annabeth corrected. "The rainbow goddess Iris carries messages for the
gods. If you know how to ask, and she's not too busy, she'll do the same for half-bloods."

“And you do this how?”

Luke pointed the nozzle in the air and water hissed out in a thick white mist. "All you gotta
do is make a rainbow and pay her."

Sure enough, late afternoon light filtered through the vapour and broke into colours.

Annabeth held her palm out to me. "Drachma, please."

I dug a Drachma out of my bag and passed it to her.

She raised the coin over her head. "O goddess, accept our offering."

She threw the drachma into the rainbow. It disappeared in a golden shimmer.

"Half-Blood Hill," Annabeth requested.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then I was looking through the mist at strawberry fields with the Long Island Sound in the
distance. We seemed to be on the porch of the Big House. Surprisingly, there were other
people on the other side. A tall brunette wearing a black cat patterned button-up was sitting
on the Big House railing, while a shorter black-haired Hispanic boy wearing a dark green
jacket chatted with him.

“Alabaster! Chris!” Luke called happily.

Both boys turned, grinning when they caught sight of who called them. Alabaster and Luke
were great friends, as they were the two eldest in the Hermes Cabin. Chris, while not
claimed, was Luke’s little brother and they had a good relationship.

“Luke!” Alabaster crowed back, “Look at you! How’s the quest, man?”

“Hi, Luke!” Chris piped up. “Hola, prima! Como estas?” (Hey cousin! How are you?)
As Luke answered Alabaster, I greeted Chris. “Buenas tardes, primo. Estoy bien pero todos
estos monstruos…” I rolled my eyes for effect. “Nunca saben cuando dejar.” (Good
afternoon, cousin. I’m good, but all these monsters… They never know when to stop.”

I smile as he laughs. There are only three Latino kids at Camp right now; Chris, Maybel (a
daughter of Demeter), and me. All three of us had formed a small kinship from our shared
heritage and we talked in Spanish with each other. True, I’m Brazilian while they’re Cuban
and Argentine, but that’s neither here nor there.

Annabeth spoke up, “We were calling to talk to Chiron.”

"He's down at the cabins." Alabaster’s smile faded. "We're having some issues with the
campers. Listen, is everything cool with you? Is everyone alright?"

This felt strangely familiar, but not in a good way. Didn’t this happen? With Luke on the
other end? Something’s wrong.

I gave Alabaster a tense smile. “Everyone’s alive. The quest is on track. What’s happening
with the campers?”

Just then, a big Lincoln Continental pulled into the car wash with its stereo ramping whatever
hip-hop it was playing up past eleven. As the car slid into the next stall, the bass from the
subwoofers vibrated so much, it shook the pavement.

"Chiron had to- what's that noise?" Alabaster yelled.

"I'll take care of it,'" Annabeth yelled back. “You coming, Percy?”

I shook my head and waved her on- I needed to get some answers. Luke looked like he
wanted to push me to join Annabeth but didn’t say anything.

"Chiron had to break up a fight," Alabaster shouted to me over the music. "Things are pretty
tense here, Percy. Word leaked out about the Zeus-Poseidon standoff. We're still not sure
how- probably the same scumbag who summoned the hellhound. Now the campers are
starting to take sides. It's shaping up like the Trojan War all over again. Aphrodite, Ares, and
Apollo are backing Poseidon, more or less. Athena is backing Zeus."

Luke tensed behind me. The ‘scumbag’ comment seemed almost pointed. I suddenly realised
that I was talking to the three demigods that had led a part of Kronos’ army. Would have, if I
have anything to say about it.

“Alabaster,” I began. “Don’t think I’m not aware.”

All three boys froze. Chris’ eyes kept darting between Luke and Alabaster, waiting for his
cue. All three are probably members or sympathisers of the ‘I Hate The Olympians’ club, but
from the way Alabaster was glaring at Luke about the hellhound not a minute ago, I’d bet
good money that only Luke had actually joined the Kronos Krew.

Y’know what? I’m calling it the KK, if only so I don’t accidentally blurt out what it stands
for when I’m not paying attention.
“Aware of what?” he tried to say smoothly.

I raised an eyebrow. “Aware of what’s happening at camp; someone’s trying to divide it.” I
gave an innocent smile. “Good thing that while a divided camp is very vulnerable, Camp
Half-Blood is anything but badly protected. After all, unless someone decides to purposely
let in invaders, the barrier will hold, yes?”

I pointedly ignore Luke’s almost flinch.

Chris nodded nervously. “Right.”

“And despite the protections, if someone on the inside- say, the person who summoned the
hellhound- saw the divide and took advantage… Well, it's a good thing that my quest is going
so well and that we’ll be back at Camp soon enough, isn’t it?”

Alabaster gave me a calculating look. “Yes.”

I widened my smile, titled my head, and leaned forwards juuust so. “Until then, I know I can
count on the two of you to help stop the divide in Camp from getting too bad, can’t I?”

All three of them stared at me. The meter beeped, telling us that there was only a minute left.

Alabaster cleared his throat. “I suppose; can’t have all of Camp vulnerable to… outsiders…”
he enunciated slowly.

In the stall next to us, the music stopped completely. A man screamed in terror, car doors
slammed, I think a cat let out a rather impressive yowl, and the Lincoln peeled out of the car
wash.

“Good,” I said. “Good.”

Chris spoke up. “Percy… What-?”

The water cut off and the rainbow began to fade.

“Well, I’ll see you back at camp.” I waved goodbye, my face set in a rictus grin.

The last thing we saw was Alabaster looking at me up and down, his face a perfect picture of
contemplation and pure thought as Chris anxiously hovered behind him. The I-M cut off.

Luke's voice was a quiet rasp. “Ophelia. What was that?”

I turned to him. He was pale and tense, looking at me with paranoia I knew was justified.
“Solidifying allies.” I blinked, my eyes bright and innocent. “Why? What’s wrong? We’ll
need help in the coming days, yeah?” Out of sight, my nails painfully dig into the skin of my
hip.

Somehow, he pales even more. “No… You- You know.”

I pull back, my body language confused. “Luke…” I break off. I can’t tell him yet. Let him
draw his own-

His eyes are wild as he grabs me by my shoulders. “You know what’s going to happen.
Somehow, you do. I- ” His grip felt like he was scalding me. “You know what I- ”

“Don’t!” I cut him off, yanking his hand from me so I could hold them. “Don’t. You don’t
want to know.”

He’s shaking, subtly shivering as if he was in subzero temperatures. “Is it bad? Can you tell
me?”

I shook my head frantically, hot tears slipping from the corners of my eyes. “Not yet. Please,
just trust me. Not yet.”

He scans me up and down before slowly, slowly shrinking back. “I trust you,” he whispered.
“I’m just… I fear for you.”

I pull back. “I can handle myself. Don’t fear for me, watch your own back.” I warn him.

His nod is shaky. And his face…

Bile rises in my throat.

I remember a half-baked theory I formed on that day with the hellhound; a soulmate cannot
harm their other half without repercussions.

This lie? His worry? Harm. This is harmful, plain and simple.

I bend over and throw up into a bush. Fuck.

“Ophelia!” he calls out, reaching a hand to steady me.

I brush him off. “I can take care of myself, but every action has its consequences.” My smile
is weak.

There’s fear in his eyes. He relents.

Annabeth comes around the corner and freezes when she spots the two of us. “Luke, Percy?
Is everything okay?”

“Yeah.” I lied. “Come on, let’s go get some food.”

We’re sitting in a diner, waiting to be served.

All around us, families were eating burgers while drinking malts and sodas. My stomach was
growling, Annabeth rested her forehead against the cool table, and Luke kept sending me
worried and suspicious glances. All in all, we’re not in the fucking mood for any bullshit.
Case in point- I kept fiddling with my sword-ring.

Finally, the waitress came over. She raised her eyebrow sceptically. "Well?"

“Three bacon cheeseburgers with fries. Three large vanilla milkshakes,” I told her grumpily.

Was I being rude to the waitress? Yes. Did I suddenly get hit with regret for acting like a
Karen? Also yes.

"You kids have money to pay for it?"

Nevermind. I’m pissed and tired and hungry.

“Yes,” I snapped. “Can we order or not?”

Luke sent me a warning look. He opened his mouth to say something but he got cut off.

A rumble shook the whole building; a motorcycle the size of a baby elephant had pulled up to
the curb. All conversation in the diner stopped. The motorcycle's headlight glared red. Its gas
tank had flames painted on it, and a shotgun holster riveted to either side, complete with
shotguns. The seat was leather- but leather that looked like... well, Caucasian human skin.

Fuuuuuuuck. I. Do. Not. Want. To. Deal. With. Ares. Today.

I turned to Luke and Annabeth. “Do try to stop me from punching him. If you fail; fuck it.
I’ve lived long enough.”

Their confused response was cut off by Ares walking into the diner.

Actually, no. He didn’t walk- he sauntered, like he’s Micael Jackson and this was his stage.
As he moved, a hot, dry wind blew through the place. All the people rose in eerie
synchronicity as if they were hypnotized, but the leather-clad god waved his hand
dismissively and they all sat down again. Everybody went back to their conversations.

The waitress blinked, as if somebody had just pressed the rewind button on her brain. She
asked us again, "You kids have money to pay for it?"

The asshole said, "It's on me." He slid into our booth, which was way too small for him, and
crowded Annabeth against the window.

“No, it’s fucking not,” I told him, point-blank. “And get away from my friend.”

Ares looked at me. I couldn't see his eyes behind the red shades, but bad feelings started
boiling in my stomach. I squashed it down. Bitch, I’ve been pushing down breakdowns for
years- I know how to control bad feelings. All it did was make me want to just say ‘fuck it’
and leave.

He gave a wicked grin. The waitress shrank back. After some of Luke’s not-so-subtle
nudging, she fled the table.
"So you're old Seaweed's kid, huh?"

I gave him an unimpressed look. “I’m fucking done; that’s what I am. I’m not in the mood for
your bullshit.”

“Percy!” a wide-eyed Annabeth hissed at me.

"S'okay," he said. "I don't mind a little attitude. Long as you remember who's the boss. You
know who I am, little cousin?"

“I’m fully aware who’s boss, and it’s not you, Ares. Not here, not right now.” I glared at him.

That gave him a pause. He lifted his shades so I could see his burning, literally flaming eyes.
“You’re playing with fire right now, punk.”

“Then I get burnt and I move on. Look, just give us your stupid sidequest and go.”

“How do you know I’m going to give you a quest?”

I sighed. “Why the fuck else would a god decide to talk to us? I’m not fucking dumb.”

The waitress came back with heaping trays of food-cheeseburgers, fries, onion rings, and
vanilla shakes.

Ares handed her a few gold drachmas. She looked nervously at the coins. "But, these aren't..."

Ares pulled out his huge knife and started cleaning his fingernails. "Problem, sweetheart?"

The waitress swallowed, then left with the gold.

Luke was now physically restraining me from attacking a god. His arm was around my
middle as he fearfully glanced between Ares and me.

“My little quest; it's nothing much. I left my shield at an abandoned water park here in town.
I was going on a little... date with my girlfriend. We were interrupted. I left my shield behind.
I want you to fetch it for me."

I raised an eyebrow. “So we can trip the little trap your girlfriend’s husband set up? Yeah,
right. What would we be getting out of this?”

"Hey, I'm a generous guy. I'll help you on your way. I'll arrange a ride west for you and your
friends. And..." He leant in. “To sweeten the deal, I’ll throw in something you should know
about your mom.”

“I already know about my mom and we can get a ride west ourselves.” I watched as he froze.
“Got a better deal?”

He frowned. “How do you know about your mom?”

“Why do you want to prevent a war?” I shot back. “Helping us get the bolt isn’t helping you,
is it?”

We were in a standoff. Luke was nervously sweating, fully aware that if either of us caves
it’ll be his head on the spike.

And Annabeth? That girl already had her knife drawn. Her other hand was hovering over her
invisi-cap.

Ares glanced at Luke for a second and I smirked. “That’s what I thought. Get us Greyhound
tickets to Las Vegas and we’ll do it.”

Ares leaned back, looking at me appraisingly. “You’re an interesting one. Fine, not like I was
doing much else anyway.”

“Interesting keeps me from getting killed for being boring.” I gave a shit-eating grin. Why
wouldn’t I? I’m negotiating with a god, getting what I want and not getting screwed over too
badly!

He grinned right back, matching me teeth for teeth. "The water park is a mile west on
Delancy. You can't miss it. Look for the Tunnel of Love ride."

In a blink, he was gone. If it wasn’t for Luke and Annabeth’s frightened faces, I could’ve
thought this was just a dream.

"Not good," Annabeth whispered, voice small. "Ares sought you out, Percy. This is not
good."

I stared out the window. The motorcycle had disappeared.

Welp. There goes my chance at riding that thing.

“No.” I turn back to her. “This is good.”

“How?” she said in confusion, her brow furrowing.

Luke looked cautious. “Ophelia… maybe you shouldn’t- ”

“Shouldn’t what?” I growled. “Save the world? Save you? Stop World War 3? Shouldn’t do
what, Luke?”

He falls silent, staring at his burger. His pale hands are clenching and unclenching on the
table.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” he finally asks.

“Yes,” I lied confidently. “I do.”

Annabeth looked between us, confused. “What’s going on?”

“Ares just threw us a lifeline.” I motioned towards her food, “Eat your burger, we gotta go.”

The sun was sinking behind the mountains by the time we found the water park. Judging
from the sign, it once had been called WATERLAND, but now some of the letters were
smashed out, so it read WAT R A D.

If I snickered at it, no one commented.

The main gate was padlocked and topped with barbed wire. Inside, huge dry water slides and
tubes and pipes curled everywhere, leading to empty pools. Old tickets and advertisements
fluttered around the asphalt. With night coming on, the place looked sad and creepy.

“Well, fuck!” I muttered. “If this isn’t someplace to get murdered in, I’ll eat my sword!”

Annabeth and Luke side-eyed me.

“What? Please, as if you haven’t fantasised about being murdered with no one ever finding
the body?” I tried to defend myself.

“... No.” They deadpanned.

“Oh.”

“You are so weird, seaweed brain.”

“You’d be too if you had timey-wimey bullshit rocking around in your brain and solid proof
that it's mostly true,” I mused under my breath.

“What?”

“Nothing,” I called back from clambering over the iron fence. “Just a lot of swear words.”

I can’t see their faces since we’re all climbing, but I’m pretty sure Annabeth just rolled her
eyes at me.

Luke held down the barbed wire so we could climb over it, and I smiled when Annabeth
cursed loudly when she got scratched. Ah, my young padawan is learning the vocabulary
quickly!

The shadows grew long as we walked through the park, checking out the attractions. There
was Ankle Biter Island, Head Over Wedgie, and Dude, Where's My Swimsuit?

No monsters came to get us. Nothing made the slightest noise.

We found a souvenir shop that had been left open. Merchandise still lined the shelves: snow
globes, pencils, postcards, and racks of-

"Clothes," Annabeth breathed. "Fresh clothes."

"Yeah," I said. "But you can't just- "

"Watch me." She snatched an entire row of stuff off the racks and disappeared into the
changing room.

A few minutes later she came out in Waterland flower-print shorts, a big red Waterland T-
shirt, and commemorative Waterland surf shoes. A Waterland backpack was slung over her
shoulder, obviously stuffed with more goodies.

“You look like a walking fashion disaster,” I droned. “Even the eighties wouldn’t take you.”

She glared. “At least I have fresh clothes!”

I raised an eyebrow and walked into the changing room with my backpack.

When I left it, I was wearing the spare change of clothes from camp; leggings, a camp t-shirt,
Drew’s gifted jacket on my back, and the scarf wrapped around my hair as a proto-veil that
hid my curls.

“Well, I remembered to grab spare clothes when I left camp.” Was I gloating? Yes. Was I
getting her back for all those times she played ‘frigid-bitch’? Also yes.

Luke exited his own changing room wearing as many Waterland clothes as he could. “It’s not
like we were actually expecting to still have all our supplies by the time we got even half-way
across the country,” he reasoned.

“Yeah, fair enough.” I shrugged. “Now, where’s that Tunnel of Love?”

In front of us was an empty pool that would've been awesome for skateboarding. It was at
least fifty yards across and shaped like a bowl.

Around the rim, a dozen bronze statues of Cupid stood guard with wings spread and bows
ready to fire. On the opposite side from us, a tunnel opened up, probably where the water
flowed into when the pool was full. The sign above it read, THRILL RIDE O' LOVE: THIS
IS NOT YOUR PARENTS' TUNNEL OF LOVE!

Luke crept toward the edge. "Guys, look."

Marooned at the bottom of the pool was a pink-and-white two-seater boat with a canopy over
the top and little hearts painted all over it. In the left seat, glinting in the fading light, was
Ares's shield, a polished circle of bronze.

“Gross,” I wrinkled my nose, before turning to my companions. “So, we can do this three
ways. One, the Mary Sue way where I stay all the way over here and use my powers to grab
it; Two, we let Luke steal it himself without tripping any traps because he’s the best at this;
Or three, we fuck it up, buttercups! We all climb in at the same time and give the gods a
show!”
“We’re not going to let Luke do everything by himself!” Annabeth protested.

Unfortunately, Luke asked at the same time, “Who’s Mary Sue?”

“Right!” I called, putting my hands on my hips. “I guess we go for option number three then!
Remember, you chose this.”

I started striding forward and those two quickly followed, protests on their lips.

We reached the boat. The shield was propped on one seat, and next to it was a lady's silk
scarf. I tried to imagine Ares and Aphrodite here, a couple of gods meeting in a junked-out
amusement-park ride. Why? Then I noticed something I hadn't seen from up top: mirrors all
the way around the rim of the pool, facing this spot. We could see ourselves no matter which
direction we looked. That must be it. While Ares and Aphrodite were smooching with each
other they could look at their favourite people: themselves.

“How narcissistic are they?” I muttered as I reached for the scarf.

Luke elbowed me. “Don’t insult the gods!”

I elbowed him right back but kept quiet.

The scarf was in my hands and I wrapped it around my neck. Mmmm, it smells so nice; like
home-baked bread and burning candles…

I froze. “Wow, this is some pretty strong love magic.”

Annabeth whipped around. “What?” she hissed in concern.

I waved her off. “Smells like my one true love… and the house we’ll have…” I start to drift
off to the thought of a vague man and small children running around a cottage.

I smiled, a little dreamy, and was about to rub the scarf against my cheek when Annabeth
ripped it out from around my neck and stuffed it in her pocket. "Oh, no you don't. Stay away
from that love magic."

"What?"

"Just get the shield, Seaweed Brain, and let's get out of here."

The moment I touched the shield, I knew we were in trouble. My hand broke through
something that had been connecting it to the dashboard. A cobweb, I thought, but then I
looked at a strand of it on my palm and saw it was some kind of metal filament, so fine it was
almost invisible. A tripwire.

“Found the trap guys!”

“What?” Luke called.

“Percy!” Annabeth shrieked. “Don’t!”

Noise erupted all around us. It sounded like the grinding of a million gears- as if the whole
pool was turning into one giant machine.

“Too late!” I smiled. “This is where the fun begins!”

Upon the rim, the Cupid statues were drawing their bows into firing position. Before I could
suggest taking cover, they shot, but not at us. They fired at each other, across the rim of the
pool. Silky cables trailed from the arrows, arcing over the pool and anchoring where they
landed to form a huge golden asterisk. Then smaller metallic threads started weaving together
magically between the main strands, making a net

Luke was screaming, “Out! Get out, go!”

I grabbed the shield and we ran, but going up the slope of the pool was not as easy as going
down.

"Come on!" Luke shouted.

He was trying to hold open a section of the net for us, but wherever he touched it, the golden
threads started to wrap around his hands. He had to quickly yank his hands back unless he
wanted to lose his fingers

The Cupids' heads popped open. Out came video cameras. Spotlights rose up all around the
pool, blinding us with illumination, and a loudspeaker voice boomed: "Live to Olympus in
one minute ... Fifty-nine seconds, fifty-eight ..."

We'd almost made it to the rim when the row of mirrors opened like hatches and thousands of
tiny metallic ... things poured out.

Annabeth and I screamed.

No-no-no-no! I forgot about these motherfuckers!

It was an army of wind-up creepy-crawlies: bronze-gear bodies, spindly legs, little pincer
mouths, all scuttling toward us in a wave of clacking, whirring metal.

"Spiders!" Annabeth wailed. "Sp-sp-aaaah!"

I wasn’t much better than her, screaming my head off. “No! No! Spiders! LUKE HELP!
AAAAAH! GET AWAY FROM ME!”

She fell backwards in terror and almost got overwhelmed by the spider robots before Luke
pulled her up and grabbed my hand, dragging us back towards the boat.

The things were coming out from all around the rim now, millions of them, flooding toward
the centre of the pool, completely surrounding us. I tried to tell myself they probably weren't
programmed to kill, just corral us and bite us and make us look stupid. Then again, this was a
trap meant for gods, and we weren’t gods!
Sometimes, going off-tangent and having a vivid imagination is great. This is not one of those
times!

Annabeth and I climbed into the boat. Luke started kicking away the spiders as they swarmed
aboard. He was yelling at me to help him, as I was at least not frozen in terror like Annabeth,
but my frantic sword waving wasn’t really much help.

"Thirty, twenty-nine," called the loudspeaker.

The spiders started spitting out strands of metal thread, trying to tie us down. The strands
were easy enough to break at first, but there were so many of them, and the spiders just kept
coming. I kicked one away from Annabeth's leg and its pincers took a chunk out of my shoe.

“Motherfucker! Tu mierda! Su madre es una vaca!” I swore at them, hacking and lashing
with what meagre sword-skill I had. (You’re shit! Your mom is a cow!)

"Fifteen, fourteen," the loudspeaker called.

Water, I thought. I need more water. Where the fuck does the ride's water come from?

"Five, four-"

I closed my eyes and thought about waves, rushing water, the Mississippi River. I felt a
familiar tug in my gut. I tried to imagine that I was dragging the ocean all the way to Denver.

I closed my eyes and focused on pulling the water, fast rushing water, out of the pipes. The
tug in my gut, familiar as always, let me know I succeeded.

"Two, one, zero!"

Water exploded out of the pipes. It roared into the pool, sweeping away the spiders. Luke
snatched us both down onto the boat’s seats just as the tidal wave slammed into our boat,
over the top, whisking the spiders away and dousing us completely, but not capsizing us. The
boat turned, lifted in the flood, and spun in circles around the whirlpool.

Annabeth was screaming, Luke had an arm around us both to keep us from flying out, and I
had my eyes squeezed shut, trying desperately to control this stupid ride.

The water was full of short-circuiting spiders. Some of them smashed against the pool's
concrete wall with such force they burst.

Spotlights glared down at us. The Cupid-cams were rolling, live to Olympus.

I focused on controlling the boat; it was slowing down. We were no longer spinning like
crazy, but the water level was high enough to shred us against the golden net. With a mental
tug, I managed to get us to start drifting down the ride. It was too quick to my liking, but at
least we were getting somewhere.

The persistent tug in my gut was turning almost painful from trying to control the boat. That
couldn’t be- I wasn’t even doing anything hard! I shouldn't be so weak that I can’t control
one measly little boat. I was stronger, that was the point of my training, that was-

My eyes froze on Luke’s hands, the same ones that held me tight.

Oh, his hands were bloody from the net. I was wondering why my arms felt warm. Did I hurt
him again? Huh… Seems like I did.

I turned and threw up over the side of the boat.

There was a hint of red in my vomit.

I could vaguely hear Luke and Annabeth shouting my name in worry. I couldn’t focus on it. I
couldn’t focus on anything, really, because-

Blood. Blood. I think my ‘soulmates can’t harm each other’ theory is coming true, and I also
think that now would be a bad time to wonder if that divine ‘rule of three’ thing applied here.

Then we were out of the tunnel, the night air whistling through our hair as the boat barreled
straight toward the exit.

My head snapped up and away from my internal dilemma. My control of the boat had slipped
for a second and we'd picked up speed. Fuck.

The large Gates of Love were closed and chained up. We were heading straight towards
them. Oh shit!

In a large wave that drained me of all my power, I stopped the boat with a jerk. We all flew
forwards, towards the Gates of Love that had been half torn down from my wave.

Luckily, Luke still had a good grip on us and had his flying shoes working with one shout of,
“Maia!”

We all stumbled towards the ground, tripping over each other with a groan.

“Ouch,” Annabeth said, pushing me off her. “Get off me.”

By the time we'd stumbled to our feet and Luke began fussing over our injuries again, my
horrible nausea and dizziness were back.

A hundred yards away, at the entrance pool, the Cupids were still filming. The statues had
swivelled so that their cameras were trained straight on us, the spotlights in our faces.

I saw red. How dare they find entertainment from our plight? I know I was joking about it
earlier, but I could’ve died! Luke and Annabeth could’ve died!

“We could’ve DIED you- ”

I broke off, shoving Luke away from me as I stumbled towards the cameras. “How dare
you?!” I shouted at them. “Como ousa fazer um espetáculo de nossa dor! Seus tolos, seus
monstros! Stop it! STOP IT!” (How dare you make a spectacle out of our pain! You fools,
you monsters!)

Thunder rumbled overhead, and that was it.

I couldn’t hear my friends screaming at me, I couldn’t even be bothered by the sudden rainy
weather that roared to life out of nowhere. No, I was busy revelling in rage as I snapped.

A scream ripped its way out of me and the earth shook in response. I stomped once then fell
to my knees, hands scraping the concrete the exact same way I was going to do to their
FUCKING THROATS.

“PARA DE OLHAR!” The world bathed in blue light, and I think the rain tasted a bit salty
for some reason but that didn’t matter because- “I HATE YOU! STOP IT!” (Stop looking at
us!)

The sky jolted with hints of lightning. In response I smashed the ground with my fists,
sending out another tremor.

I was so past beyond angry- I was enraged. Around me, the earth raged in answer.

Warm hands- too warm, bloody- fell on my shoulders. A voice was yelling at me, but it
sounded like it was travelling through a storm.

Wait, it is storming, isn’t it?

“Let go, Ophelia! Stop doing this!”

Luke?

“Ophelia, please! You’re going to bring the entire park down on our heads!”

Luke. He’s getting hurt- he’ll get hurt if I don’t- I have to, I have to…

Annabeth was shrieking in fear.

Let. Go.

It was like the world stopped. Raindrops hovered in midair, frozen in time through sheer
force of will. No more tremors, no more lightning, no more screaming.

It was unnatural.

The last thing I saw was Luke’s horrified face above me as I passed out.

…
…

Hey. Guys?
…

I’m sorry…

…
…

…
I never wanted to hurt anyone…

…
 …

… Guys?

Chapter End Notes

Raven: … Yeah. So that happened. Poor Ophelia, the whole side-quest had been nothing
but trauma after trauma after suckass for her. I did say that we needed to get her to stop
going off on tangents, didn’t I? Well, here’s one such example where thinking about
relatively useless things and panicking over them when you can’t do jack is a Bad Idea.

Also, let’s all admit it; it’s high time Ophelia well and truly snapped. Therapy can only
do so much when you can’t trust the therapist, no matter how well-intentioned they are.
She’s had the pressure of the world on her shoulders ever since rebirth, and she never
had the luxury of letting loose either. Letting loose would mean attracting monsters, at
least one smiting, screwing up canon to undesirable levels, worst-case scenario her Mãe
winds up dead… Pick a number, roll a dice.

And finally, we have one rather nice aspect of platonic soulmates! If one goes apeshit,
the other’s got a pretty good chance of getting them to stop!

Izzy: First of all, I want to apologise for this horrible angsty torture called a chapter that
we just published. I was listening to the angst playlist while writing the first draft.

Second of all, I will actually say that Raven (holy fucking shit) rewrote essentially the
entire last part, the mental breakdown, to be this beautiful, even angstier piece that legit
made me cry. I honestly can’t believe she did that.

Third and last, I’m sorry (again) but you won’t have another main story update until
Friday; this Wednesday you get two different Interludes tho (two different chapters
uploaded at the same time) - so I suppose that’s a plus for y’all!

Raven: Awwwww, thank you! Also, holy hell this author’s note is long.

Well, whatever. I hope you all enjoyed (or hated in equal measure) this chapter!
 Interlude/Omake: Ares and Luke
Chapter Summary

Interlude's from the POV of Ares and Luke.

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Ares stared at the chaos left behind.

The concrete was completely broken up. Water gushed from multiple broken pipes, pooling
on the destroyed ground in horrible mimicries of puddles. A few of the rides had been
destroyed; mangled steel that was frosted over, thawing now. The abandoned waterpark was
now completely wrecked, as if a god had taken their anger out on it.

But a god didn’t do this; one demigod did.

And that’s not good, that’s not good at all. I’ve seen how much destruction my father’s
children have done throughout the years - I’ve encouraged them in their chaos - but this? This
is a whole other scale. Most demigods know when to stop, know when they’ve reached a
limit, know not to just let loose. This destruction was caused by a demigod who doesn’t care
about the limits, and didn’t care about what she was harming; as long as us gods stopped
looking at her.

I remember the way she glared at me in the diner. The last time I saw eyes like hers', they
were on Cassandra as she accepted her own death. She talked to me like she had no fear of
dying- all she wanted was to be left alone. ‘Interesting keeps me from getting killed for being
boring.’ she told, as if boring was what would get her killed. Us gods love entertainment, but
sometimes there’s a demigod who brings too much entertainment- is too interesting- and we
know that’s better to stop them. Make them stop.

‘I’m fully aware who’s boss, and it’s not you, Ares. Not here, not right now,’ she had
said.

And now… Now I see exactly what she meant. She could’ve easily sent the diner down on
our heads, but she didn’t. Why? How did she know I was helping her? How did she know I
have the Bolt?

I shivered, spotting the huddle of three exhausted Half-bloods.

I approached their group with caution.

Poseidon’s daughter - the being of destruction- was passed out on the ground. The Thief was
cradling her in his arms, tears were streaming down his face as he held her tenderly. Athena’s
girl was staring in shock, her knuckles were white around her dagger, looking as terrified as I
felt.

Persephone Jackson - such a fitting name for her: destruction - had dried tear tracks on her
face, and a steady flow of blood coming from her nose.

The Thief looked up as I approached.

“She didn’t mean it,” he defended immediately, drawing her closer to him. His hand was on
his sword.

“I highly doubt that.” I eyed her unconscious and prone body warily. “Demigods who cause
such destruction rarely don’t mean it.”

Athena’s brat spoke up. “No.” Her eyes shone in equal parts fear and defiance. “She didn’t
want to hurt anyone- we’d be dead if she did.”

A demigod who created such chaos by accident? Especially in these times of the Great
Prophecy, a child of the big three, a child who can cause as much destruction as a fully
realised Olympian is not a good sign.

“If that’s the case,” I sized the small sea demigoddess up. “The verdict will be worse.”

If she really did cause this by accident, I’ll vote for her death before she gets any ideas about
razing Olympus.

I dropped a backpack filled with food, supplies, two symbols of power, and three greyhound
tickets at their feet. “What I promised.”

The Thief eyed it. “Everything promised?”

I made eye-contact with him.

“Everything.” His gaze is hollow yet unyielding. “I’m the god of war; I know which battles
to pick.” I let my eyes drop the girl. “And this battle? Is better a battle than a war.”

The Thief nodded.

I turn on my heels and march back to my motorcycle.

There’s something wrong with this daughter of Poseidon, and, for once, I really don’t want to
find out why.

Luke wanted to scream out to the universe at the hand he was given.
 Next to me, Ophelia lay unconscious in a Greyhound seat, oblivious yet too aware of the
world.

She’d confirmed it, told me that she knows more than she should - knows what I’ve done -
and then said to trust her.

I wanted to laugh hysterically. Trust her? All I’ve been doing is trusting her! I opened my
heart to a girl I’ve only known for two weeks! And yet she stills looks at me from the corner
of her eye as if I will turn her over at any minute.

But she’s not wrong. She’s not wrong to distrust me.

I hurt her. I summoned a hellhound on her, didn’t listen to her warnings about Medusa, left
her alone at the arch, let her almost kill herself in the waterpark.

I watched her chest steadily rise and fall.

Annabeth was hysterical when Ares left. Screaming about how Ophelia nearly killed us, how
she created such havoc, how she shook the Earth like she could reach the gods that way, how
she yelled at the gods - made them angry, made them scared.

I couldn’t say anything. After all, what could I say that would make this any better?

I just held both of them tight and prayed to the River Styx itself that my family wouldn’t rip
itself apart.

I nearly attacked Ares when he came; my blood boiling to protect my family.

But he just dropped the bag at our feet and gave us a warning. ‘Betray the gods, worship the
gods: it doesn’t matter. Don’t make us afraid or we’ll lash out.’

He surrendered this time; gave us the Bolt and Helm to finish the quest. Next time? I fear that
next time it’ll be our head on a spike.

I’ll fight until my last breath for that to never happen.

I glanced down at the two slumbering girls on the bus seats.

I closed my eyes and breathed; I’ll betray my soul for them.

Chapter End Notes

Hey y'all,
I know I said there'll be less angst, but I lied. That's probably on Friday. I had a shit day
so I'm taking it out on my characters. Sorry Not actually that Sorry.
The next chapter will be up in like,,,, 2ish 3ish hours. Depends how long it takes for me
and Raven to edit it.
 Sweet Dreams
Chapter Summary

Where demigods are concerned, dreams either make for good therapy sessions or a cruel
and unusual method of torture. Ophelia isn’t holding her breath for the latter.

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

It was darkness.

Far as the eye could see, dark, inky blackness lay. The only thing that wasn’t an impenetrable
haze was the ground- a shallow pool of water lay like a twisted mirror, it’s surface a state of
stillness usually associated with the dead. I stood in it, the water not even reaching my
ankles, but I still stood, dripping wet, as I peered through the strangely clear liquid to the
unidentifiable bottom.

I was screaming, too, and the surface shuddered and broke with every silent decibel. I have
no doubt that if I could hear myself, I would hear the hoarse and incoherent ramblings, but
nothing carried.

Nothing would hear me- my display was pointless.

I crumpled, sinking more than a few inches downwards. The waters shattered around me like
spun sugar, only to return into a pool to be shattered again. And again, and again, and
again…

“I’m sorry!” my gaping mouth pleaded uselessly. “I’m so sorry! I never meant to hurt
anyone! Please!”

Nobody appeared.

Another wordless noise strained in my throat.

“Please!” I sobbed. “Somebody!”

I curled tighter into myself, squeezing, if only to feel something other than the utter
numbness that perverted my very being.

Nobody is here.

“Who are you?” a voice called.

Like breaching the surface after nearly drowning, the world swam back into focus, and with
the came noises.

Splashes, trickles, the soft popping noises of a solid object meeting passive waters…

I wasn’t alone! My head snapped up.

A girl stood before me. She was a little bit older than my physical age, with unruly black,
punk-style hair, dark eyeliner around her stormy blue eyes, and freckles across her nose.

Thalia, daughter of Zeus.

“T-Thalia?” I asked numbly.

“Yes, who are you?”

How is this happening? I shouldn’t be able to see her! She’s a tree for fuck’s sake!

“Ophelia.” The name tasted like ash in my mouth.

She cocked her head and frowned. “How are you with me?”

“How am I here? How are you here? You’re a tree!” I spluttered back at her.

“A tree?” She seemed baffled by this. “Why would I be a tree? No, I died protecting my
family.”

“You’re not dead, this is not the Underworld,” I insisted.

She rolled her eyes at me, “Very astute. We’re somewhere in-between; not alive yet not
dead.” She gestured at the blackness with her hand. “A tree you said? That might explain
why I’m here, but what about you?”

My arms curled around me. Droplets of my memory swirled, more perilous than any ocean.
Still, if it’s Thalia… “I was on a quest, but I… I lost control. Began destroying everything in
sight, started screaming at the gods, nearly killed my family, the works.”

Thalia raised an eyebrow. “Well, that’s one way to do it.”

“Fuck up? Then yeah, I fucked up,” I agreed quietly.

“Definitely.” She eyed me with scrutiny. “Hey, since we might be here for a while, what’s
your quest?”

I gave her a wobbly smile. “Your father thinks I stole his Master Bolt and now I have to go
down to the Underworld to ‘retrieve’ it. My questing partners are Luke Castellan and
Annabeth Chase. My Pai is Poseidon.”

Now was Thalia’s turn to gape at me. “Wha- How? Why? What?”
I shrugged, wiping off some tears from my face. “Don’t ask me; I blame the gods for their
usual bullshit.”

She accepted that with a small snort. “So, my family is your family?”

I blushed and fidgeted with my jacket. “Luke and I are soulmates. Annabeth and I are slowly
becoming friends.”

“Wait, soulmates?”

I looked into her eyes. Something must have shown because she barely contained her recoil.

“It was the only way to save his life,” I explained solemnly. “I had to tie our fate-strings
together- it was the best guarantee I could wrangle.”

She grabbed my face, nails digging but not biting, bringing me closer to her. She peered at
me intensely.

“You’ll protect them? You won’t hurt them?”

“Yeah,” I vowed. “I’ll do everything it takes to protect them.”

The silence stretched on in this empty, empty place of ours.

A beat passes, then another.

She nods, and slowly let go of me. She slides one foot back. Then another.

Once she was a respectable distance away, she softly chides, “Then go.”

“What?”

“I may not still be technically alive, but you are.” She shrugs. “You can go back to them.”

I furrow my brow. “But how? I’m stuck here.”

“Aren’t you soulmates with Luke? I bet that means there’s a link between your souls. Use
that, and go back to him.”

“I- ” My eyes widen as I watch her start to fade. “Wait! I know a way to- ”

“Goodbye, Ophelia.”

She’s gone.

And me? I’m back to square one; alone and confused.

Well, maybe not square one… If what she suggested about soulmates is true…

I focus on Luke; his smile, his hugs, the way he always twirls his blade before a fight, the
way he drinks Diet Coke like it’s the only liquid available, the way he ruffles my hair- always
careful to make me not feel crowded-

Luke.

I think about his pain, the pain he feels for my sake, the emotions that run across his face
when he thinks no one’s looking, the way his shoulders sage a little more when I’m in his line
of sight… The things that I don’t want to think about, but encompass what he is to me
anyway-

Luke.

I don’t know what, but something warm, like the fire you feel after dumping your freezing
hands in warm water, hooks itself around my navel-

Then I’m gone.

The grass is greener than it I remember.

Luke is sitting with his feet in the creek, the woods of Camp Half-Blood surrounding us. I
know, because there’s nowhere else with a creek quite like the one here.

I walk forward and drop to his side.

His shoulders tense, then relax, then tense again. Otherwise, he makes no moves to remove
his forehead from his knees.

“Penny for your thoughts?” I offer.

He whips around. “Perfect, you’re in my dreams now,” he groans out.

“What makes you so sure this is a dream?”

He paused. “Isn’t it?”

“Nope,” I said, popping the ‘p.’

He stares at me, wide-eyed and mouth open.

I looked down at myself. My clothes had changed; instead of my legging and T-shirt, I was
wearing a flowy white dress. My feet were bare and my hair blew in a surprisingly nice wind.

“...I’m sorry for hurting you,” I whispered, focusing my sight on my soft, barely calloused,
hands. “I never meant to hurt anyone.”

“You just wanted them to stop.” His eyes are soft as they look at me. “Trust me. I
understand.”

A single tear trickles out of my eye, and I hurriedly wipe it away. “I still shouldn’t have lost
control.”
“No. You shouldn't have.” He sighs and gazes off into the distance where birds flew
soundlessly. “Next time you do, they’re going to kill us all.”

It’s not a question. For him, it’s a fact. Honestly? I agree with him.

“I’m sorry,” I repeated.

Luke shakes his head. “I know. But they don’t care.”

I throw myself backwards, letting my dress and hair fan out on the grass. My toes curl around
the pebbles in the creek.

“You wanted to know how I know too much,” I stated as I watched the clouds pass by. “Do
you still want to know?”

He slowly lowers himself to lay beside me. “Yes.”

“Would you let it be if I asked you to?”

“No.”

I shuddered, eyes vacant as they sought answers from the heavens. “... Very well. I can’t tell
you all of it now but, I’ll tell you what I can.”

I can hear his head turning to face me, to stare at me in wonder and intrigue. I ignore it.

“I know the future,” I say, keeping my eyes stubbornly on the false sky. “Or, well, a future.”

He stays silent, still gazing at me.

“I don’t know why, but I was given this gift- or maybe it’s a curse- and I know what is going
to happen. No, actually, I don’t. Saying it like that makes it inaccurate.” My hand comes up
to card through my hair. “I’ve talked to the Fates; they said that the actions I’m going to take
are going to render that future obsolete. To put it simply, I know what happens in another
world, and our would is similar enough to that one that I can predict things with uncanny
accuracy. But, I don’t know for sure what will happen in this world, because what I’ve been
doing? It’s definitely not what the other me had done.”

I fall quiet, eyes half-lidded as I basked in what could very well be the last bit of peace I
would ever get.

“How?” he finally chokes out.

I squeeze my eyes shut. “I don’t know. What I do know, I can't tell you yet.”

“What can you tell?”

“This,” I breathe out. “That I’ve changed so, so much. The Oracle- The Fates- warned me
that Life is fragile. With any luck, it’ll be for the better, but you know what they say about
Mice and Men, and the best-laid plans between them. ”
He shifts, hand reaching out to grasp my own. Around us, the world seems to hold its breath.

“What will happen?”

It’s not a demand, but I respond to it like one anyway. He deserves nothing less.

“I don’t know. I don’t think anybody knows,” I sighed out truthfully. “Other than those who
can naturally see the future, and maybe not even then. Not helpfully, at least.”

I finally let my head roll over so I could see his blue eyes looking back at me.

“I don’t care,” he spoke fiercely. “I don’t care about that. As long as you’re my family, my
little sister.”

I couldn’t stop the tears even if I wanted to. “You won’t believe that once you know
everything. ‘Beware betrayal,’ the oracle warned me, and I think it’s my own betrayal of
you.”

“No!” he insisted, grabbing my hand. “I refuse.”

“You can’t refuse Fate.”

“And I refuse to let you go.”

I rolled over so my whole body was facing him. My hand gingerly cupped his face. Our
foreheads pressed together, the act more comforting than anything I could think of.

“Thank you.”

I let the words hang between us. I pray the meaning of it to be a thousand songs better-left
unsung but heard of anyways, and I pray he feels the same. I pray- because sometimes, that’s
all I can do.

He smiles at me, a toothy thing that makes me a little more whole. “No. Thank you.”

We stay like that, for a while, content in the warmth that only comes from being wholly and
utterly at ease.

“How long do you think we have before we wake up?” I speak up.

“I don’t know, I don’t think anyone knows,” he echoes, a teasing edge gracing his face.

“Well then,” I grinned at him. “Might as well make it count.”

I focus, and soon, a sweet tune sweeps through the air.

“How did you do that?” Luke asked in wonder.

“It’s a dream! We can do anything we want in a dream!” I laughed. “Shh! Listen!”

Hozier’s singing fills the woods:

 ‘Her eyes and words are so icy
Oh but she burns
Like rum on the fire
Hot and fast and angry as she can be
I walk my days on a wire.’

“This song is from the future,” I tell him. “It’s my favourite song.”

‘It looks ugly, but it's clean,

Oh momma, don't fuss over me.’

“It’s beautiful,” Luke sighs, closing his eyes and putting his hands behind his head.

Unfettered joy prompts me to mimic him.

‘The way she tells me I'm hers and she is mine

Open hand or closed fist would be fine
The blood is rare and sweet as cherry wine.’

I don’t know how long we laid there by the creek, listening to ‘Cherry Wine,’ but by the time
the false sky became dusk, I felt like the world was in my grasp once again.

This is my second chance. I’m not failing it.

Chapter End Notes

Raven: hey guys, I’m not sure if “Sweet Dreams” is an interlude or an entire chapter, but
I supposed if you squint it can be taken as either-or.

Izzy: I had a sudden mood change in the past four-ish hours since I posted the interlude.
Have a lot of Soft!Ophelia to drown out the past angst. I’m sorry for before <3
 Las Vegas is NOT at all as fun as the Movies.
Chapter Summary

So today, I’m going on a rescue mission in THE timey-wimey metaphysical ‘if-it’s-not-

an-eldritch-location-I’ll-eat-my-sword’ location, which I’m 97% sure has a mind of its
own. Alone. To convince my cousins that no, I’m not insane, and yes, it’s actually more
dangerous for you to go outside but can you please go outside anyway?

Fuuuuun.

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Waking up after being asleep for nearly 16 hours should be nice, but apparently my body
didn’t get that memo.

My head was pounding, my throat was dry, and there were spots flying around like flies in
my vision. I groaned, but the movement only aggravated my sore muscles, then I wanted to
cry. Motherfucker- this is worse than the time I broke my knee then had an allergic reaction
to the painkillers the hospital gave me.

“Hey, Ophelia, shh.” Luke entered my vision, slowly helping me sit up. “There we go, don’t
move, let me get you some nectar.”

I nodded, tears dripping out of my eyes at the movement.

A straw entered my mouth and I greedily gulped it down, welcoming the sweet taste of Mãe’s
chocolate chip cookies. I finished it quickly enough. I had practically inhaled it, and my
entire body was no longer screaming in pain with every breath I took.

“Thank you,” I breathed out.

“No problem.” Luke smiled.

“No problem?” Annabeth butted in. “You nearly killed us! That’s a problem!”

I winced at her sharp tone. “Right. I’ve got to explain.”

“You think?” Her tone is biting.

Luke eyed us both.

“First of all, please stop calling me Percy, Annabeth, you can call me Ophelia. I nearly killed
you, I think you deserve it.”
Annabeth did not look impressed.

“Second of all, as I explained to Luke just before, I know the future.”

“Wha- ?” Her nonplussed expression said it all.

I held up a hand to stop her. “I know, it’s weird, I’ll explain.”

“You better,” she grumbled, wide-eyed.

“Right, so, the Fates allowed me to see a future- but the problem is, it’s not this future. I
mean, it’s pretty close, a lot of things have been pretty much identical, but at other times it all
goes off the rails.” I anxiously started scratching at a patch of my neck. “The future I saw was
from another world, and while I know all about that world, this one is different. Different
things are going to happen- above all, I’m definitely going to act differently. That’s how I
knew about Medusa and why I’m so insistent we go to Las Vegas. Some things have to
happen, while I try to avoid other things.”

“Why do you know the future? What’s going to happen?” she said, shrewdly.

“I don’t know why I was chosen. Maybe it’s because of the Great Prophecy? I don’t know.
And the future… trust me when I say you don’t want to know.” There’s blood under my nails.
I hope it’s mine.

Annabeth frowned. “How does Luke know this?”

It was Luke’s turn to look anxious. “She showed up in my dream to explain.”

“What?”

“My soul has been detached from my body for the past couple of hours because I ‘let loose’
in that waterpark. I just wandered around in the in-between of Life and Death until I finally
managed to find Luke’s dream. I’m not sure what I’m doing either.”

That made both Luke and Annabeth gape at me.

“And I’m really sorry about the waterpark,” I begged. “I didn’t want to hurt anyone. There’s
just so much pressure to not get everybody killed, and everything just built up and I couldn’t
just push it all away anymore.”

Luke just sighed and let his head drop to his hands.

Annabeth’s frown became even deeper, but it was her eyes that pinned me in place. “Ophelia,
what the fuck?”

I gave her a sheepish grin. “Exactly.”

“Do you even know what you’re doing?” Annabeth asked.

“I’ve got a plan!” I protested. “It might get me killed, but you’ll be fine!”
“That’s not a plan!” Luke immediately vetoed.

I rolled my eyes. “What else am I going to do? Tell the gods the future and let them smite all
three of us? I know what cards are on the table, I can cheat.”

“And what are the cards?” Annabeth growled, looking frustrated.

“Kronos is rising, the gods are going to deny it until the last possible minute, and there’s a
bunch of campers turning traitors because the gods are, admittedly, assholes,” I deadpanned.

Annabeth pinched the bridge of her nose. “Anything else?”

“Luke was the one who stole the master bolt!”

“Hey!” he yelled, not happy to be thrown under the bus.

“Luke!” Annabeth shouted, horrified. “You did what?”

“I’m not working for Kronos anymore!” he defended himself. “He wanted me to kill you
two!”

“You stopped working with Kronos because he wanted you to murder us?” Annabeth yelled.
“And not because he wanted, oh yes, THE TOTAL DESTRUCTION OF OUR PARENTS?”

“Annabeth, please, our parents are assholes,” I interrupted.

“No. Ophelia, stay out of this,” she hissed with barely concealed venom.

I swiftly put my arms up in surrender, only to immediately regret it because I think I just
pulled a dozen of my muscles.

While I was busy trying to see how much I could move without straining myself, it was very
amusing to see Annabeth chew out Luke. She screamed at him for nearly an hour.

Snagging a bag of Doritos, I watched as this tiny angry preteen girl screamed her lungs out at
this pale, terrified, adult man. Her Greek was better than most movie scripts and not to
mention…

I glanced around to see blank-eyed mortals.

Yup. The Mist was probably working overtime to cover up the details of what Annabeth was
screaming about, but it was no doubt working. If it wasn’t, I’d bet someone would have
called security on us already.

All in all, man, this is better than watching Stranger Things!

“How could you!” she screeched one last time.

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to protect our family,” Luke repeated for the millionth time.
Apparently that was the straw that broke the camel’s back because Annabeth launched herself
into his arms.

“Never do that again!” she sobbed, burying herself until all I could see were blond locks.

“It’s okay, I won’t, I swear,” he promised, holding her tight.

Great. Now I’m the one feeling awkward.

I shuffled over to them and put a hand on Annabeth’s back.

“If he does, I’ll help you kick his ass,” I promised. “Not that you’ll need the help, of course. I
call dibs on the entrails though.”

She weakly chuckled, “Damn straight.”

Nobody paid heed to Luke’s mumble of, “Traitors, the both of you.”

We all grinned; we’re alright. No more secrets.

We stumbled out into the desert afternoon. It was a hundred and ten degrees, easy, and we
must've looked like deep-fried vagrants, but everybody was too busy or drunk to pay us much
attention.

We passed the Monte Carlo and the MGM. We passed pyramids, a pirate ship, and the Statue
of Liberty, which was a pretty small replica, but still made me homesick.

Out of the three of us, I knew what we were looking for, but I was still slightly terrified of
finding it.

We took a turn, and ended up on a dead-end street, standing in front of the Lotus Hotel and
Casino. The entrance was a huge neon flower, the petals lighting up and blinking. No one
was going in or out, but the glittering chrome doors were open, spilling out air-conditioning
that smelled like flowers-lotus blossom. Maybe. I'd never smelled one, so I wasn't sure.

Well, here goes nothing.

“You two are staying out here, I’m going in by myself,” I ordered, marching forwards.

“What? No way, seaweed brain, we’re going in too!” Annabeth protested.

“No, you’re not,” I insisted. “Don’t you know what that is? That’s the lair of the Lotus
Eaters! If you go in and be their guest, they will curse you to want to stay in there forever!”

“What!” Luke yelped. “And what in Olympus’ name makes you think that going in there is a
good idea, then?”
“Don’t yell at me!” I quickly tried to placate them. “But my dark, shadowy and death-y
cousins are in there and they’ve been stuck in there since before the Big Three took their
oath!”

Annabeth looked like she wanted to throttle me. Or just gut me and be done with it. Even
odds, really, considering her steely expression. “And you want to get them out? Are you
insane?”

“I just told you not to yell at me!” I cried. “And they’re really nice! I just need to get them
out first!”

“And,” Luke said, rubbing his temples, “why can’t we go in with you?”

“Because you’ll get caught in the trap! Look. I’ll go in, if I’m not out in 24 hours, you go
back to Olympus and give back the symbols of power! Then, once World War 3 is averted,
you can come back to get me out!”

“Ophelia, you’re insane.” Annabeth deadpanned. Luke’s glower wasn’t much better.

“And it’s the best plan we can feasibly do. Now, please, go break into the Marriott across the
street. I should be back within the day; you know what to do if I’m not.”

I turned to go inside the casino, but Luke grabbed my arm.

“Ophelia?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t die.”

I grinned. “As if death could keep me down.”

The whole lobby was a giant game room, and I'm not talking about cheesy old Pac-Man
games or slot machines. There was an indoor waterslide snaking around the glass elevator,
which went straight up at least forty floors. There was a climbing wall on the side of one
building and an indoor bungee-jumping bridge. There were virtual-reality suits with working
laser guns and hundreds of video games, each one the size of a widescreen TV. Basically, you
name it, this place had it. There were a few other kids playing, but not that many. No waiting
for any of the games. There were waitresses and snack bars all around, serving every kind of
food you can imagine.

This was even better than the casino scene in that horrible ‘The Lightning Thief’ movie.

"Hey!" a bellhop said. At least I guessed he was a bell-hop. He wore a white-and-yellow

Hawaiian shirt with lotus designs, shorts, and flip-flops. "Welcome to the Lotus Casino.
Here's your room key."
Knowing full well what that thing was, I had to hold myself back from slapping it out of his
hand.

“Thanks!” I said, my smile fixed.

"The bill's taken care of. No extra charges, no tips. Just go on up to the top floor, room 4001.
If you need anything, like extra bubbles for the hot tub, or skeet targets for the shooting
range, or whatever, just call the front desk. Here is your LotusCash card. It works in
restaurants and on all the games and rides."

“Oh!” I smiled sheepishly. “Do you mind giving me extras? I manage to lose such things so
easily!”

“Of course, here you go!” He handed me three more cards. “Enjoy your stay!”

“I will!” I called over my shoulder.

And the Oscar for the Best Actress goes to… me!

Now… to find the Di Angelo siblings. Where would they be?

Wait. I’m a fucking idiot.

I approached a nearby bellhop, a sweet smile on my face.

“Excuse me, sir?”

“Yes, young lady?”

“I seem to have become separated from my cousins; we entered together but I just can’t seem
to find them anywhere! They’re younger than me, so I’m quite worried about them.” Perfect
shining, fearful, eyes: Activated.

“Oh, of course, young miss. What’re their names? I can help you find them.” He smiled,
looking far too happy to be a normal human.

“Nico and Bianca Di Angelo.”

His smile gets impossibly wider, and I swear I can see teeth on his tongue like he’s some sort
of goose.

“Follow me,” he said.

I kept my hand on Riptide the ring, fiddling with it as I followed him to a darker area of the
Casino.

“They should be here.” He grinned, the smile stretching just slightly into uncanny valley
territory. “Good luck!”
I had to hold myself back from stabbing him, right here and now, because when he turned to
walk away, his hair flickered from a flaxen blond to a bundle of thorny vines, back to normal
human hair- except now brown. These motherfucking Lotus Eaters are going to make me go
insane.

The area he had taken me to was straight out of a Noir movie. There were 1920’s flappers
walking around and talking to 1940’s soldiers. Cigarette smoke wafted from nearly
everywhere, making me cough. The lights were those old gas ones that flickered at strange
intervals. There was a noticeable lack of electricity, but a few arcade games were scattered
around.

I could see everything from a wine bar to a rugby game going on in this area, and my head
spun trying to figure out how I’m going to find my cousins.

So, turns out I didn’t need to worry so much about that.

I was trying to see if I could spot any small dark-haired Italians playing Mytho-Magic, when
one of them ran straight into me, bowling me over.

“Oof!” I tumbled to the ground.

I quickly scrambled up and turned to see who the human projectile was.

A small kid, around my height, had run straight into me. He peeked up at me from behind his
dark, curly bangs.

“You okay, kiddo?” I asked, apologetic.

“Yes, I’m so sorry!” the boy babbled, accepting my hand up. “My sister’s always telling me I
should be more careful, but someone said they’re betting a Hades figurine in a Mytho-Magic
game, and I was really excited.”

That made me stop. I think I blue-screened for a second there.

No way. My luck can’t be this good.

“Wait a second, are you- ”

“Nico!”

Bianca Di Angelo had come running, her hair in a milkmaid braid updo. She grabbed her
brother, dusting him off with the practised care of a mother hen- something I’m very familiar
with ever since I became friends with Luke- before turning back to me.

“I’m sorry about my brother. He has a tendency to run around. Oh! I’m sorry, I’ve been
rude,” she exclaimed. “I’m Bianca Di Angelo, this is my little brother, Nico.”

“It’s fine!” I smiled back politely. “I’ve been looking for you two!”
She blinked. “You have?”

“Yep! I’m your cousin, Ophelia, from our father’s side!”

“We have a cousin?” Nico exclaimed. “Cool!”

“I’m sorry.” Bianca frowned in contrast. “But I don’t ever remember you being mentioned
before. You look younger than Nico, are your parents here?”

“I’m nearly 13!” I whined. “I’m just short! My Mãe is with your father right now.”

Technically not a lie.

“Is our father here?” Bianca asked, her brow furrowed.

“Well, no.”

“What’s going on then?” she asked. I could see that her grip on Nico’s arm had tightened just
slightly. More obviously. she had shifted so she was standing in front of him.

Shoot, I’ve activated the protective older sister instincts.

“Maybe we should sit down? This is hard to explain,” I tried to placate.

Her eyes gleamed before she nodded slowly. “Alright.”

Once we cosied ourselves up in a booth with a cup of water that I was languidly sipping, I
placed my cup down before levelling my gaze at the both of them.

“You may be wondering what in the nine hells is going on here. The origin of all your
answers can be summarized thus; your dad is a Greek god.”

Okay, fine, that was probably not the best way to explain things to two demigods out of time,
but whoever said I knew what I was doing?

Bianca shot up, threw my own cup of water at me and tried to run away with her mouth open,
arms tightly wound around her brother with the beginning of “Securi-” rising from her throat.

Well, I certainly wasn’t going to find her if she really did manage to run away, so I formed a
water barrier in the direction she tried to run instead. She turned around, wide-eyed, only to
find me not-at-all wet.

“Bianca,” I began, and I must’ve been doing something right because for all her panic she
was obviously listening. “I swear on the River Styx that I mean you no harm, that I only want
the best for you and her brother, and right now, all I want to do it fill you in on what’s really
been going on with your life so you are able to make an informed decision without everybody
else deciding for you.”
Thunder rumbled overhead, sealing the oath.

“Oh dio, donaci forza,” she muttered but didn’t protest when the water gently nudged her to
sit down again.

Nico, on the other hand, had literal stars in his eyes. He kept gaping at my water barrier and
mouthing things I resolutely tuned out of my mind. Instead, I kept my focus on Bianca.

A couple more prayers to God in Italian later, I had directed all the water back into my cup
and we once again tried to talk.

“So basically, your dad is Hades who’s the Greek God of the Underworld, and he stuck you
in here to stop you from getting murdered. Think politics where your dad’s a big player, and
his children are of concern to all the other gods, especially since the Big Prophecy concerns
you guys. It’s the reason why I, myself, am also of concern to the gods. The children of the
Big Three, what we call the three most powerful Olympians, all are. Outside of this place,
over 70 years have passed. Before you ask, that’s the reason why your dad stuck you in here
in the first place; time runs differently in here compared to the outside. And me? I’m your
cousin who knows too much that’s here to explain things.”

“Cool,” Nico gaped.

“No! Not cool, Nico!” Bianca protested. “This is insane!”

“Yeah, I know that.” I shrugged. “But can’t it be both?”

“It’s both.” Nico nodded.

Oh goodness, this boy is so precious, I want to adopt him!

“And what now?” Bianca asked, looking scared. “You’re going to get us out and take us to be
trained in that- that death camp?”

“Uh? No? Who told you that Camp Half-Blood’s a death camp?”

“Our Mamma did,” Nico piped up. “She said something about, uh-” His face screwed up
adorably. “Child soldiers? And prison?”

“No!” I gaped, shaking my head vigorously. “The existence of Camp Half-Blood, first and
foremost, is to provide a place specifically tailored towards creating a society of Greek demi-
gods. It teaches us to fight, because if we don’t, how else are we supposed to stand a chance
against the monsters that come after us simply for existing?”

Bianca scoffed. “And what about the quests, hm?” she snarled. “What about the so-called
gods sending demi-gods to their deaths, again and again, and again?”

Okay. This is going to go precisely nowhere; she’s too tense, and mistrusting, and combined
with the maturity of a teenager as well as legitimate grievances in the form of her dead
mother, she’s not going to actually listen and ponder what I’m going to be saying. I have to
show that I’m on her side, or at least prove that I'm a neutral party who knows the world
better than she does.

“Look, the gods? They aren’t perfect. Hells, if you asked me I’ll tell you straight up that most
of them are raging jackasses with egos a size that’s only second to their libidos! They're
assholes, man-children and in some cases, morons! But-” I pulled out Riptide, the blade
pointedly facing away from them. “Can you honestly tell me that demi-gods as a whole
would survive to see adulthood if not for Camp, if not for the instructors, nymphs, satyrs, the
free lodgings and food that they give us? Without the weapons, and bear in mind that only
specific metals can actually do anything against monsters, that they provide us? Admittedly,
the system isn’t perfect, but also admittedly, it’s better than nothing.”

I leaned forwards, willing my gaze to drill holes into her head.

“The gods don’t give us everything,” I state, quietly, firmly. “But still, they give us things that
we mortals would never be able to get and maintain ourselves, so what’s the problem? Our
main goal is survival, and as long as beings that can cause natural disasters as easily as
toddlers throw temper tantrums are willing to help us in whatever capacity they’re willing,
why wouldn’t we take advantage? Unless…”

I sit back and shake my head morosely, letting them see the disappointment that must be all
but etched into my face.

“Unless you don’t want to be with the rest of your kin? You don’t want to see your biggest
allies and friends, never give yourself the chance to meet your comrades? Unless you believe
you can survive on your own, all alone, never trusting anyone to watch your back? To be
isolated and never let yourself live, only just survive? Or maybe it’s not about the company
of other demi-gods at all.” I studied her face, drinking in the dark features that marked her a
Daughter of the Lord of the Dead.

“Maybe you simply don’t want what the gods are willing to give? You’re willing to stake out
on your own, here with your brother, content to live in this death-trap of sweet-temptation
and empty promises, simply because of your scorn for the gods? You’re willing to give up the
world, a life beyond the nice, but ultimately fake dream you live here, because of pride?
Arrogance, even?”

“No!” Bianca snapped, fists pounding the table as she loomed over me with a glare filled
with death and promises. “Do you think we wanted this? This, this life, cut off from
everything we’ve ever known? No! We didn’t! But right now, here is the only place where
we’re safe!”

“I know!” I roared right back, getting up and shoving my face against hers. “I know! Why do
you think I’m here, talking to you guys anyway! 'A child of the eldest gods, Will reach sixteen
against all odds!' That’s a line of the prophecy, and entities more powerful than you and I
have killed and murdered and slaughtered for reasons less sane than that! Somebody’s
destined to either save or kill the Olympians, and the gods don’t like that! Hells, they hate it!
So if you would sit down and let me explain the whole fucking story, we can get on to
arguing without misinformation GETTING IN THE FUCKING WAY!”
Notably, throughout the whole exchange, the cup of water in front of me didn’t so much
shudder.

So there we were, two teenagers, butting heads about topics that philosophers and atheists
wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole, when Nico spoke up.

“Um, Bianca?”

“Yes?” She immediately turned to her brother who had been strangely silent up until now.

“I don’t think she’s lying.” He earnestly gazed up at her with his adorably dark eyes and
ohmygodIcan’teven.

“She swore on the River Styx,” he continued. “Mamma and papá always said that people
who swore on the River Styx can’t break their promise or bad things would happen. Nothing
bad has happened, so I don’t think she’s lying.”

“I also know more about the state of the world than you, and I can prove it by the way, and
I’m also willing to fill you guys in on the rather important knowledge that nobody has
bothered to tell you until now,” I added helpfully.

Bianca stared at me before ordering, “Swear on the River Styx that you’re not lying.”

“I, Persephone Ophelia Jackson, Daughter of Poseidon and Sally Jackson, solemnly swear on
the River Styx that I haven’t lied to you once up to now and that I will not lie to either of you
for the rest of the duration inside the Lotus Hotel and Casino.”

Cue the customary rumble of thunder.

She nodded once, satisfied, before gesturing something that I assumed was to tell me to get
on with it.

And get on with it I did.

In the end, all I had to ask was this: “Do you want to see the world now or later? Better yet,
does your brother want to see the world now or later?”

The siblings had to excuse themselves for a hell of an argument if the cursing in Italian was
anything to go by, but the end result had me sagging in relief.

“Alright, wait here and don’t move. I mean it, don’t move. I’m going to see if I can find
something for you guys to defend yourselves with. No way you guys are stepping outside of
this place without being armed.”

Navigating the hotel was as easy as asking for directions to the nearest Greek training
ground. I mean, indoor water-park; the next step’s obviously anything I can think of, right?
Giggling as I tracked down where they kept the weapons for rent, I paid with my LotusCash
cards and got an entire bag full of selective demi-god grade weapons. Rushing back to the
siblings, I let them pick out which weapon they were least likely to stab themselves with as
we made a beeline to the exit.
True, I could’ve gutted that one guy who tried to make us eat one of those lotus cakes a mere
five feet from the door, but I just pushed past without a word.

Let us not tangle with Lotus Monsters that even the gods haven’t gotten rid of yet, amen.

I smirked as I left the Casino and saw a billboard proclaiming the date.

“1:27 AM, JUNE 16, 2005”

Ha! I did it! I went into the casino and got out within 24 hours! In fact, I got in and out within
5 hours. That has to be a record.

Digging out a drachma in front of a curious Nico and wary Bianca, I tossed the coin into the
road (it sank through, and it’s as creepy and it sounds) before crying out, "Stêthi, Ô hárma
diabolês!"

A few seconds later, the Taxi of Smoke and Supreme Creepiness rose up out of the asphalt. I
ushered them in, explaining that no matter how unsafe it felt, this was the easiest, most
straight-forward and iron-clad method of getting to camp I currently had available, and I
wasn’t risking them being brainwashed inside the place of Eldritch Abominations by leaving
them in there.

I then knocked on the front window which sank down to reveal the Grey Sisters staring at me
with their one shared eye. I held up one of my LotusCash cards. Going by the way they tried
to snatch it away, they knew what it was.

“You get to keep it,” I shook the card for emphasis, “if you all swear on the River Styx to
take Nico and Bianca Di Angelo right to the very edge of Camp Half-Blood border, and I
mean the metaphysical one, not the property line. You will also swear not to tell anyone,
willingly or unwillingly, accidentally or otherwise, that you met them or me today. The vows
apply until the end of time immemorial, understood?”

One of the sisters, I’m not sure which, grumbled out, “You’ll just threaten us at swordpoint
until we do, wouldn’t you?”

I smiled as apologetically as I could manage. “Terribly sorry, but paranoia and legitimate
worry over people I care about makes one cautious.”

They all swore the oaths and zoomed off. If I strained my ears, I think I heard Nico
screaming with elation while Bianca shrieked like the ground had fallen out from under her.
Remembering what I read from the books, that feeling wasn’t far off.

Sending out a minor prayer to whichever god or goddess lords over car sickness, I headed
towards the Marriott across the street.

Sneaking in was surprisingly easy, and soon I was wandering the corridors to find which
room Luke and Annabeth had broken into.
 Luke was apparently thinking further ahead than I because, after 20 minutes, I found a note
taped to a door on the fifth-floor proclaiming, ‘SISTER, WE ARE IN HERE,’ in Greek.

I slammed the door open, startling a half-dressed Luke from where he was drying his hair. A
thunk announced Annabeth falling off the bed from where she was watching National
Geographic.

“Guess who was successful!” I cheered happily.

“You,” Luke deadpanned, but there was a smile sneaking onto his face.

“Yep! And look!” I waved my remaining three green LotusCash cards at them. “I stole us
some unlimited credit cards too!”

“Wait, really?” Annabeth said in disbelief.

I threw myself onto the bed and laughed freely. “We’re going to Los Angeles in style, baby!”

Chapter End Notes

Izzy: Ngl, Today I have like, zero communication skills. So, I handed Raven a *really*
rough draft of this chapter, with multiple bits missing, and she took over. I did like,,,
30% of this. Any of your compliments and complaints shall be directed at her today, but
that doesn’t mean I’m not still going to answer all your comments! <3

Raven: you’d be surprised at how little argument you can make for the Di Angelo
siblings to leave. Inside the hotel is actually safer for them than the outside, and they’ll
definitely be treated better inside it than out. In the end, my excuse boils down to,
‘shove the problem at Nico and let him solve it.’ And lo, I believe it works!

As for why Ophelia didn’t just call for a satyr to take care of the escort problem, think
about all the satyrs in the story… Now think about exactly who would be gunning after
the Di Angelo’s heads.

Yeah.

I rest my case.

Izzy: Wait. You didn’t get a satyr because you thought Grover would grab them?

Raven: I mean, satyrs as a whole don’t exactly have a nice track record when it comes to
escorting the children of the Big Three, and Grover? Grover’s the G-man my dude, but
he’d probs grab them and end up accidentally discovering shadow travel and wind up
half-way to the Underworld where he gets knocked out and kidnapped by a bunch of
monsters which the siblings have to drag him away from.
Izzy: I- You’re not wrong...
 Crusty reminds me of Beetlejuice, actually
Chapter Summary

When demi-gods get their hands on money and free-time, we splurge. It’s a fact of life.

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

I’ll admit that it probably wasn’t the best use of money to reserve VIP treatment on a luxury
train trip to LA, but since we’re rich enough to fill Olympic grade swimming pools with
diamonds, nobody said a word.

Before we left the hotel, we all managed to have a shower and get changed. Luke dragged us
all to the nearest mall for good, sturdy clothes. I refused to remove Drew’s gifts even in the
face of Luke’s long-suffering pleas, but I did get changed into a new top, pants, and running
shoes. I even got a nice, bullet-proof jacket once I convinced Annabeth to let us splurge on
modern armour. Hey, if you’re rich and on a quest to stop World War 3, you get the good
stuff.

We got to take a nap on the train and rack up the meal bill (Hmmm, professional-grade
Lasagna). A couple of discreet bills and Luke smiling suavely at the lady serving us got us
breaking the law by way of underage drinking. I tried to snatch his wine bottle several times
but alas, his reflexes are much faster than mine. The sucker didn’t see me swiping the vodka,
so there’s that.

As time wore on, Luke began kind of wallowing, kind of downing the entire wine bottle by
himself. I told him to share it before he got himself drunk but Annabeth quickly scolded me
and pointed out that a drunk Daughter of Poseidon was not a good idea. I only had one thing
to say to that.

Swiping the bottle from an inebriated Luke was only mildly easier than a sober Luke, but I
quickly glugged down the remainder as fast as I could before smacking my lips smugly in the
face of a gobsmacked Annabeth.

“Daughter of Poseidon and purification powers for the win, bitches.”

The look on her face when she realised that alcohol didn’t have much of an effect on me
unless I wanted it to was one for the scrapbook.

After barely refraining from getting out my vodka and chugging the whole thing right in front
of them, I sagged a bit as the nervous atmosphere sank its claws in again. Annabeth once
again repolished her knife, and Luke returned to silent brooding.
I was the only one mostly calm, and if you’ve been paying attention at all, you’d know how
Twilight Zone it is.

Barely an hour later, Annabeth tried to boost our morale by suggesting clever strategies for
getting into the Land of the Dead, but I didn’t listen. I knew the plan; get to the DOA Studios,
charm Charon, walk right in and talk to uncle. I have no idea what to say to uncle, but I’ll
burn that bridge when I get to it.

At sunset, the train dropped us at the beach in Santa Monica. It looked exactly the way L.A.
beaches do in the movies, only it smelled worse. There were carnival rides lining the Pier,
palm trees lining the sidewalks, homeless guys sleeping in the sand dunes, and surfer dudes
waiting for the perfect wave.

Luke, Annabeth, and I walked down to the edge of the surf.

"What now?" Annabeth asked.

The Pacific was turning gold in the setting sun. I thought about how long it had been since I'd
stood on the beach at Montauk, on the opposite side of the country, looking out at a different
sea.

It was beautiful. My Pai had authority over a lot of things; oceans, seas, water, hurricanes,
and earthquakes. Sea, land and air. Me being his daughter, the world may as well be my
oyster. Here I am though- just chilling and slumming away on a quest.

Wait, fuck. Existential crisis, go away until I’m middle-aged damn it!

I stepped into the surf.

"Ophelia?" Annabeth questioned. "What are you doing?"

I kept walking. The salty water got up to my waist, then my chest.

Luke called after me, "You know how polluted that water is? There are all kinds of toxic-"

That's when my head went under.

I walked down into the shoals. I shouldn't have been able to see through the murk, but
somehow I could tell where everything was. I could sense the rolling texture of the bottom. I
could make out sand-dollar colonies dotting the sandbars. I could even feel the currents,
warm and cold extremities swirling together.

I felt something rub against my leg. When I looked down, I nearly had a mini heart-attack.
Sliding along beside me was a five-foot-long mako shark.

Thankfully, it wasn’t in the mood to eat me. Instead it was nuzzling me, heeling like a dog.
Tentatively, I touched its dorsal fin. It bucked a little, as if inviting me to hold tighter. I
grabbed the fin with both hands. It took off, pulling me along. The shark carried me down
into the darkness.
It deposited me at the edge of the ocean proper, where the sandbank dropped off into a huge
chasm. It was like standing on the rim of the Grand Canyon at midnight; not being able to see
much, but knowing the void was right there.

The surface shimmered maybe a hundred and fifty feet above. Distantly, I knew I should've
been crushed by the pressure. Then again, I shouldn't have been able to breathe without my
godly blood. I wondered if there was a limit to how deep I could go, if I could sink straight to
the bottom of the Pacific. Nobody would find me there. Well, close to nobody.

Then I saw something glimmering in the darkness below, growing bigger and brighter as it
rose toward me.

A woman's voice, like my mother's, called, "Persephone Jackson."

As she got closer, her shape became clearer. She had flowing black hair, and absolutely
rocked a dress made of green silk. Lights glimmered around her in playful flickers. Her eyes
were so distractingly beautiful that I hardly noticed the stallion-sized sea horse she was
riding. She dismounted. The seahorse and the mako shark whisked off and started playing
something that looked like Tag.

The underwater lady smiled at me. "You've come far, Persephone Jackson. Well done."

“Thanks ma’am.” I gave her a crooked smile. “Nice to see you again.”

It wasn’t really that nice, considering that she knew stuff she really, really shouldn’t, but I
was in a good mood.

"Yes, child. I am a Nereid, a spirit of the sea. It was not easy to appear so far upriver, but the
naiads, my freshwater cousins, helped sustain my life force. They honor Lord Poseidon,
though they do not serve in his court."

"You serve in Pai’s court?"

She nodded. "It has been many years since a child of the Sea God has been born, and never a
Half-Blood daughter. We have watched you with great interest."

My hands twitched towards Riptide at that. “You better have not. Haven’t you heard of what I
did when the gods thought they could grab entertainment from my life?” I murmured softly.

She stills, her eyes darting nervously to the side. “We have. I apologise, we shouldn’t have
done so.”

“No, you shouldn't have,” I bit out coldly, before straightening. “Where’s my Pai? How bad
is the fallout of this war?”

"Do not judge the Lord of the Sea too harshly," the Nereid told me. "He stands at the brink of
an unwanted war. He has much to occupy his time. Besides, he is forbidden to help you
directly. The gods may not show such favoritism."
That’s not what I fucking asked. Ugh, I don’t hate my Pai, I want to help him. Why does
everyone think I have daddy issues?

"Especially not to his children. The gods can work by indirect influence only. That is why I
give you a warning, and a gift." She held out her hand. Three white pearls flashed in her
palm.

"I know you journey to Hades's realm," she said. "Few mortals have ever done this and
survived: Orpheus, who had great music skill; Hercules, who had great strength; Houdini,
who could escape even the depths of Tartarus. Do you have these talents?"

“I have the talent of not dying nor staying dead despite wanting to die.” I snarked.

She looked completely thrown off. “Oh, ah-” she stuttered, confused but attempting to
compose herself. “That’s… You have something else, Persephone. You have gifts you have
only begun to know. The oracles have foretold a great and terrible future for you, should you
survive to womanhood. Poseidon would not have you die before your time. Therefore take
these, and when you are in need, smash a pearl at your feet."

"What will happen?"

"That," she said, "depends on the need. But remember: what belongs to the sea will always
return to the sea."

"What about the warning?"

Her eyes flickered with green light. "Go with what your heart tells you, or you will lose all.
Hades feeds on doubt and hopelessness. He will trick you if he can, make you distrust your
own judgment. Once you are in his realm, he will never willingly let you leave. Keep faith.
Good luck, Persephone Jackson." She summoned her sea horse and rode toward the void.

Great, that wasn’t as helpful as I wished. At least I got the pearls, though I don’t have enough
to save Mãe.

And I know exactly how much I scared the gods.

Fuck, today is not my day. I sighed and massaged my temples.

Good mood. Keep a good mood. Don’t blow up again.

I shot upward toward the shore, the currents heeding my will.

When I reached the beach, my clothes dried instantly. I told Luke and Annabeth what had
happened, and showed them the pearls.

Annabeth grimaced. "No gift comes without a price."

"They were free."

"No." She shook her head. "'There is no such thing as a free lunch.' That's an ancient Greek
saying that translated pretty well into American. There will be a price. You wait."

“No Annabeth,” I stressed. “These are a gift from my Pai. No price. I know.”

Her mouth went into a little ‘o’ when she realised what I meant.

“Not everything is bad, guys. Sometimes things are good,” I tried to consolidate.

Luke looked like he really doubted that, but considering the fact that in Canon he nearly
destroyed Olympus because he was being emo over his daddy issues, any argument he has is
invalid.

We took the bus into West Hollywood. I told the driver where we needed to go, but he'd never
heard of DOA Recording Studios.

"You remind me of somebody I saw on TV," he told me. "You a child actor or something?"

"My mom’s an actress, I look a lot like her."

"Oh! That explains it."

We thanked him and got off quickly at the next stop.

We wandered for miles on foot, looking for DOA. Nobody seemed to know where it was. It
didn't appear in the phone book. Twice, we ducked into alleys to avoid cop cars. I’m so
fucking tired.

Just as I was about to suggest a meal-run, I froze in front of an appliance-store window. A

television was playing an interview with somebody who looked very familiar; my stepdad,
Smelly Gabe. He was talking to Barbara Walters, like he was some kind of huge celebrity.
She was interviewing him in our apartment, in the middle of a poker game, and there was a
young blond lady sitting next to him, patting his hand.

Who’s that? She’s so young. Oh gross, did he join his poker buddies paedophilia? He’d better
not; I’m already going to kill him, but I can make it worse.

A fake tear glistened on his cheek. He was saying, "Honest, Ms. Walters, if it wasn't for
Sugar here, my grief counselor, I'd be a wreck. My stepdaughter took everything I cared
about. My wife ... my Camaro ... I-I'm sorry. I have trouble talking about it."

Sugar? That sounds like a hooker’s name. Wait, how are people listening to this without
question? Gods, I kinda miss the days where if you’ve never been in the media spotlight for
even one fucking second then you can get cancelled. I wish to see Gabe cancelled so fucking
bad.

"There you have it, America." Barbara Walters turned to the camera. "A man torn apart. An
adolescent girl with serious issues. Let me show you, again, the last known photo of this
troubled young fugitive, taken a week ago in Denver."
The screen cut to a grainy shot of me, Annabeth, and Luke standing outside the Colorado
diner, talking to Ares.

"Who are the other children in this photo?" Barbara Walters asked dramatically. "Who is the
man with them? Is Persephone Jackson a delinquent, a terrorist, or perhaps the brainwashed
victim of a frightening new cult? When we come back, we chat with a leading child
psychologist. Stay tuned, America."

“Hey,” Luke said softly, hand gently patting my shoulder. “C’mon, ignore that.”

“I’m going to murder him,” I said casually, which is probably concerning, coming from a
4’10” preteen girl and all. “He won’t live to see my birthday.”

“What?” Annabeth spoke, concerned.

“Unless, of course, Mãe wants to do it,” I corrected myself.

“Ophelia, murder is still concerning,” Luke told me.

I elbowed him. “Oh, as if you weren’t going to murder people too if I didn’t stop you.”

“I’m on a quest with insane people,” Annabeth muttered.

“Yep!” I cheered, smiling wide.

It got dark, and hungry-looking characters started coming out on the streets to play. Now
don't get me wrong, I'm a New Yorker- I don't scare easily. L.A. wasn’t New York; it had a
totally different feel that sent all the wrong signals. Back home, everything seemed close. It
didn't matter how big the city was, you could get just about anywhere without getting lost.
The street pattern and the subway made sense. There was a system to how things worked. A
kid could be safe as long as they weren't stupid.

L.A. wasn't like that. It was spread out. The whole place was just chaotic enough that moving
around was like trying to walk in a mirror maze without finding a deadend. Honestly, it
reminded me of Ares. It wasn't enough for L.A. to be big; it had to prove it was big by being
loud and strange and difficult to navigate, too. I didn't know how we were ever going to find
the entrance to the Underworld.

We walked past gangbangers, bums, and street hawkers, who looked at us like they were
trying to figure if we were worth the trouble of mugging.

As we hurried passed the entrance of an alley, a voice from the darkness said, "Hey, you."

Luke turned, glared, and bared his teeth. “Don’t you fucking dare, brat.”

The group of six young teens immediately backed off.

I let out a low whistle. Hot damn. With his scar, height, and muscles- he really does come off
as terrifying.
I snickered at the description, and then I spotted it.

Only one store on the block looked open, its windows glaring with neon. In loopy writing, it
proclaimed: ‘CRUSTY’S WATERBED PALACE.’

“Want to fight another monster?” I abently asked as I jogged towards it. “I just found one.
Oh, we can steal his drachmas!”

“Ophelia, no.”

“Ophelia, yes!”

We entered the monster lair.

“Helloooo?” I called. “Is there anyone in here?”

Standing in front of us was a guy who looked like a raptor in a leisure suit. He was at least
seven feet tall, with absolutely no hair. He had gray, leathery skin, thick-lidded eyes, and a
cold, reptilian smile. He moved toward us slowly, but I got the feeling he could move fast if
he needed to.

His suit might've come from the Lotus Casino. It belonged back in the seventies, big-time.
The shirt was silk paisley, unbuttoned halfway down his hairless chest. The lapels on his
velvet jacket were as wide as landing strips. The silver chains around his neck- I couldn't
even count them.

"I'm Crusty," he said, with a tartar-yellow smile.

“Wow.” I plastered an innocent smile. “Has anyone ever told you that you look remarkably
like Alex Brightman in Beetlejuice?”

His eyes lit up, he puffed up in pride. “No, they haven’t! You’re too kind, kid.”

Not a fucking compliment, dude.

“Thanks, sir.”

“So what can I do for you kiddos today?” He slowly measured us up, and he grossly licked
his lips.

“Just browsing,” I chirped.

Luke moved closer to me, tense as a spring. Annabeth had her hand on her cap.

"You mean hiding from those no-good kids," he grumbled. "They hang around every night. I
get a lot of people in here, thanks to them. Say, you want to look at a water bed?"

He took my bait, clapping a large paw on my shoulder to drag me around.

 There was every kind of water bed you could imagine: different kinds of wood, different
patterns of sheets; queen-size, king-size, emperor-of-the-universe-size.

"This is my most popular model." Crusty spread his hands proudly over a bed covered with
black satin sheets, with built-in Lava Lamps on the headboard. The mattress vibrated, so it
looked like oil-flavored Jell-O.

"Million-hand massage," Crusty told us. "Go on, try it out. Shoot, take a nap. I don't care. No
business today, anyway.”

“That’s so kind of you!” I say, making no move towards the bed. “But it's not my style.”

“No?”

“I’m not one for Lava Lamps. They’re very you though.”

“Ha!” he chuckled.“It is, isn’t it?”

“It looks very soft,” I marveled. “I bet if you marketed it people would flock to your store.”

“Now that’s an idea,” he mused, slightly too gnarled hand coming up to scratch his chin.

“Say, how far would it dip if someone you-sized were to sit on it? I mean, I would try, but
I’m hardly one to use for comparison. I’m what you could call petite.”

“Oh, well-” He grinned eagerly as he sat down.

I clicked my fingers.

Ropes sprang from the sides of the bed, lashing around Crusty, holding him to the mattress.

“What the-?” he began to yell, but I cut him off with a swing of my sword.

Dusting my clothes off, I turned around to face my companions.

“Sorry, he gave me huge pedo vibes. There was no way I wasn’t going to go after him.” My
words said one thing, but the triumphant smirk said otherwise.

Luke sighed, moving his hand away from the hilt of his sword. “You’re going to be the death
of me.”

Annabeth was a bit more direct in the way she just smacked me in the chest. “You’re so
stupid seaweed brain.”

“Love you too!” I called, already turning to raid the cupboards. “Now, do you want more
drachmas or not? Oh yeah, and should we order some of the beds for Camp?”

Chapter End Notes

Izzy: Hey y’all! We’re finally reaching the climax of the story! Yay! And yeah, I do
picture Alex Brightman’s beetlejuice when I think of Crusty. Please, don’t yell at me in
the comments- I know some of y'all actually think he’s hot. I’ve listened to ‘Creepy Old
Guy’.

Raven: I dunno, this all feels like filler, no matter how hard we tried to make it
interesting. Meh. The Underworld’s coming up next tho, so there’s that to look forward
to.

Izzy: True. I can’t wait to write the underworld scene!

Also!!! I’ve started two new Percabeth Soulmate au’s if y’all wanna check them out!
One is a collab with the amazing Dragon Of Winter, and the other is my own shorter
story! Check out the collab if you want fluff/humor with mild angst and my story if you
want heavy angst with fluff.
 Charon, That One Ferryman, scares surprisingly easy
Chapter Summary

When you visit the Underworld and threaten That One Ferryman to do it, don’t expect it
to be all sunshine and daisies.

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

After sending two dozen of Crusty’ finest beds to Camp through Hermes Delivery Service
(cue Luke’s nose scrunching up), I milked the experience for all it was worth by jumping on a
few beds. Luke promptly banned me when I finally fell, and Annabeth chimed in with one of
her customary ‘you moron’ speeches. I was busily tuning out her final lines when I finally
spotted it.

A flyer for DOA Recording Studios sat loud and proud on some kind of pin-up board. Thing
is, that’s not what I was annoyed about.

The hell-damned thing was one block away.

“Puta de vaca!” I cursed, kicking one of the beds just to watch it jiggle. “We’ve been
wandering around the city all day and it’s right there!”

“Well, we found it now,” Luke said wryly. “And stop swearing, Ophelia.”

I looked him in the eyes and did my best to curse until I went blue.

Ophelia: 69 Luke: 1

My impish smirk was apparently enough reason for Annabeth to hit me upside the head,
which was the signal for us to start a scuffle while Luke tiredly tried to break us up.

“We’re about to go to the Underworld- if you’re going to get hurt, get hurt there!” he yelled.
“Ophelia! No biting!”

“But it’s very effective!”

“I said no! And Annabeth, I swear, I’ll tell Chiron and your Mother that you’ve been
fighting!” cried a very exasperated son of Hermes.

I love riling up Luke.

By the time we left the store, we were all hiding smiles and a lot less tense than when we
entered.
-

We stood in the shadows of Valencia Boulevard, looking up at gold letters etched in black
marble: DOA RECORDING STUDIOS.

Underneath, stencilled on the glass doors sat the words, ‘NO SOLICITORS. NO
LOITERING. NO LIVING’.

It was almost midnight, but the lobby was brightly lit and full of people. Behind the security
desk sat a tough-looking guard with sunglasses and an earpiece.

“So, what’s the plan?” Luke spoke up nervously.

“The plan is... follow my lead?”

“By the gods!” Annabeth exclaimed. “Ophelia, please tell me we haven’t crossed the country
just to enter the Underworld without a plan?”

“Uh… we didn’t do that?” I tried.

“I’m going to kill you.”

Luke quickly held Annabeth back from sending me to meet my uncle the fast way. I did the
smart thing and scooted away from the dangerous girl with a really sharp knife.

“Shhhh,” he hushed patiently. “Not yet. Ophelia, seriously, what is the plan?”

“Uh, you mean ‘not ever’, right?”

“Ophelia, either you share your impossible plan or I let go of Annabeth.”

“Well!” I yelped. “My plan is to bribe Charon with drachmas in the name of his Italian suit
collection, play fetch with Cerberus, march up to uncle and demand my Mãe back, give him
back his helm, and go straight to Olympus.”

“Wait, his helm is missing?” Annabeth asked, confused. “We have his helm? What about the
bolt?”

“Right, knew I was forgetting something,” I muttered. “I forgot to tell you about this.”

“Ophelia!” Annabeth growled, grey eyes flashing. “Communication!”

“Communication, right! So Luke also stole the Helm, uncle was being all emo so he didn’t
say anything because he thought nobody would care, and Ares had the helm and the bolt this
whole time. I know right, it’s weird World War Zero hasn’t started already. I mean, it’s Ares
we’re ta-”

Someone let out a snarl, and I hurried to correct myself.

“When we enter the Underworld the Items will appear in our backpack, and I think that’s it.”
I twirled to face Luke. “That’s all right? I didn’t forget anything?”

He shook his head in exasperation. “No, you didn’t forget anything else.”

Annabeth was not pleased.

“Luke. You stole Hades’ Helm of Darkness.” Her voice could be mistaken for sweet if you
didn’t see the murder in her eyes. As it was, I think I broke out in hives.

Before she started screaming at him again, I quickly cut in, “Not the time, wise girl. We have
to go, so, after you.”

I gestured to the Studios closed door.

We walked inside the DOA lobby.

Muzak played softly on hidden speakers. The carpet and walls were all steel grey. Pencil
cactuses grew in the corners like skeleton hands. The furniture was black leather, and every
seat was taken. There were people sitting on couches, people standing up, people staring out
the windows or waiting for the elevator. Nobody moved, or talked, or did much of anything.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see them all just fine, but if I focused on any one of them
in particular, they started looking… transparent.

Sure enough, I started seeing straight through them.

The security guard's desk was a raised podium, so we had to look up at him. Luke didn’t, but
he’s unfairly tall.

He was tall and elegant, with chocolate-coloured skin and bleached-blond hair shaved
military style. He wore tortoiseshell shades and a silk Italian suit that matched his hair. A
black rose was pinned to his lapel under a silver name tag.

“Hello, Charon!” I greeted. “How are you?”

He leaned across the desk. “Well. And who are you?” He had a strange accent- British,
maybe, but also as if he had learned English as a second language.

I smiled, sweet and sharp. “Three living demigods. Persephone Jackson, daughter of
Poseidon, Annabeth Chase, daughter of Athena, and Luke Castellan, son of Hermes.”

He looked taken aback. “Well, aren’t you honest, godling?”

My smile grew wider. “Yep. Now, if you don’t mind, we need to get to the Underworld.”

Charon made a growling sound deep in his throat.

Immediately, all the people in the waiting room got up and started pacing, agitated, lighting
cigarettes, running hands through their hair, or checking their wristwatches.

"Leave while you can," Charon told us.

Luke’s hand drifted towards his sword, but I pushed his hand away.

“Charon, please. I have uncle’s Helm in my backpack right now. The Master Bolt is sitting
right next to it. Do you want to see it? Is that it?” I said patiently.

He paled so quickly I nearly heard a whiplash.

“You have my master’s helm?” he croaked.

Oooh, I spooked him.

“Yes. Now, we need to go to the Underworld. There’ll be a drachma for your troubles.”

He practically scrambled to help us.

We pushed through the crowd of waiting spirits, who started grabbing at our clothes like the
wind, their voices whispering things I couldn't make out. Charon shoved them out of the way,
grumbling, "Freeloaders."

He escorted us into the elevator, which was already crowded with souls of the dead, each one
holding a green boarding pass. Charon grabbed two spirits who were trying to get on with us
and pushed them back into the lobby.

"Right. Now, no one get any ideas while I'm gone," he announced to the waiting room. "And
if anyone moves the dial off my easy-listening station again, I'll make sure you're here for
another thousand years. Understand?"

He shut the doors. A key card was slotted into the elevator panel and we started to descend.

"What happens to the spirits waiting in the lobby?" Annabeth asked.

"Nothing," Charon said, apparently over his shock.

"For how long?"

"Forever, or until I'm feeling generous."

"Oh," she said. "That's... fair."

Charon raised an eyebrow. "Whoever said death was fair, young miss? Wait until it's your
turn. You'll die soon enough, where you're going."

“Wow, aren’t you optimistic,” I snarked. “I may want to fucking die someday, but not today.
We’ll be back.”

He didn’t reply to that.

I got a sudden dizzy feeling. We weren't going down anymore, but forward. The air turned
misty. Spirits around me started changing shape. Their modern clothes flickered, turning into
grey hooded robes. The floor of the elevator began swaying.

I blinked hard.

When I opened my eyes, Charon's creamy Italian suit had been replaced by a long black robe.
His tortoiseshell glasses were gone. Where his eyes should've been were empty sockets- like
Ares's eyes, except Charon's were totally dark, full of night and death and despair.

He saw me looking, and said, "Well?"

“It’s a nice look on you, but I think you look better in the suit.”

His grumbled agreement was rather amusing.

The floor kept swaying.

When I blinked again, the elevator wasn't an elevator anymore. We were standing in a
wooden barge. Charon was poling us across a dark, oily river, swirling with bones, dead fish,
and other, stranger things- plastic dolls, crushed car-nations, soggy diplomas with gilt edges.

"The River Styx," Annabeth murmured. "It's so… "

"Polluted," Charon scoffed. "For thousands of years, you humans have been throwing in
everything as you come across- hopes, dreams, wishes that never came true. Irresponsible
waste management, if you ask me."

As if it were waiting for it, something fell on me. Nothing physical, but rather, it was there as
a weight. It felt weird but manageable, like a cat had decided to drape itself on my head. Until
it shifted, starting to wiggle downwards. It got heavy, then heavier, then it suddenly felt so
heavy I could do nothing but collapse.

I was a puppet with its strings cut- more helpless than a newborn babe. The world could rely
on me being able to move right now, and I wouldn’t be able to so much twitch.

Hopelessness made itself known, and I was nothing in the face of it.

Luke turned to me, concerned. I pleaded with my eyes, trying to draw on his strength,
wanting him to help. When he knelt to sit me up, I slumped back into his warmth, wanting to
stave off the numbness that gripped me like a leech.

It was like something had hit me from nowhere but left me on the edge. I hadn’t fallen down
into the actual panic, but the precipice is never a nice place to visit.

“What’s wrong with her?” Luke barked when I didn’t move.

“The Styx affects many in many different ways. She’s just feeling the weight of all her lost
hopes,” Charon remarked, uncaring.
Annabeth surged across the boat, grabbing me in a bear hug, holding me tight.

“Hurry up across the Styx then,” she snarled at him.

Mist curled off the filthy water. Above us, almost lost in the gloom, was a ceiling of
stalactites. Ahead, the far shore glimmered with greenish light, the colour of poison.

“Godling nowadays, so demanding,” he muttered but obliged after Annabeth twitched

towards our bag.

The shoreline of the Underworld came into view. Craggy rocks and black volcanic sand
stretched inland about a hundred yards. It went to the base of a high stone wall which
marched off in either direction as far as we could see. A sound came from somewhere nearby
in the green gloom, echoing off the stones- the howl of a large animal.

"Old Three-Face is hungry," Charon said. His smile turned skeletal in the greenish light. "Bad
luck for you, godlings."

The bottom of our boat slid onto the black sand. The dead began to disembark. A woman
holding a little girl's hand. An old man and an old woman hobbling along, arm in arm. A boy
no older than I was, shuffling silently along in his grey robe.

Charon said, "I'd wish you luck, mate, but there isn't any down here.”

Luke tossed him a drachma with a glare.

Charon sailed back over the Styx, leaving us on the shore, stranded.

Whelp. Only one way to go now.

“Are you okay?” Luke fussed as soon as Charon was out of sight. “What are you feeling?”

I brushed him off, relieved to finally be able to stand. “It was like having depression on
steroids- it hit me so hard I was reeling and with no idea where it came from. It’s mostly gone
now, so I’m good.”

“Mostly gone?” he needled, still worried.

“It’s just normal depression now.”

“Ophelia. Please. Not fucking now- we can talk about your desperate need of therapy later.”
Annabeth was officially done with my shit. I’m so proud.

We followed the spirits up a well-worn path.

I knew what to expect, yet I was still surprised at the absolute overcrowding of the
Underworld. The entrance to the Underworld looked like a cross between airport security and
the Jersey Turnpike.
There were three separate entrances under one huge black archway that said YOU ARE
NOW ENTERING EREBUS. Each entrance had a pass-through metal detector with security
cameras mounted on top. Beyond this were toll booths manned by black-robed ghouls like
Charon.

The howling of the hungry animal was really loud now, but I couldn't see where it was
coming from. The three-headed dog, Cerberus, who was supposed to guard Hades's door, was
nowhere to be seen.

The dead queued up in the three lines, two marked ATTENDANT ON DUTY, and one
marked EZ DEATH. The EZ DEATH line was moving right along. The other two were
crawling.

"What do you figure?" I asked Annabeth.

"The fast line must go straight to the Asphodel Fields," she said confidently. "No contest.
They don't want to risk judgment from the court, because it might go against them."

"Dead people court."

"Yeah. Three judges. They switch around who sits on the bench. King Minos, Thomas
Jefferson, Shakespeare- people like that. Sometimes they look at a life and decide that person
needs a special reward- the Fields of Elysium. Sometimes they decide on punishment. But
most people, well, they just lived. Nothing special, good or bad. So they go to the Asphodel
Fields."

“Hold up,” I held up a hand. “King Minos was an arse who sacrificed kids, TJ deserved the
Miku Binder treatment- he was a slave owner, Shakespeare- while a great writer, truly- was
still anti-semitic; why the fuck are they in charge of judging people? They should start with
the man in the mirror.”

Luke huffed, “We know, but they need bad guys to even out the fact that Mother Teresa is
also judging since she’s very merciful. What’s a Miku Binder?”

“You really don’t want to know.” I gave him a shit-eating grin.

A couple of black-robbed ghouls had pulled aside one spirit and were frisking him at the
security desk. The face of the dead man looked vaguely familiar.

“Who’s that?” Annabeth asked, pointing.

"A corrupted preacher,” I replied.

I’ve seen him on TV a couple of times at the Yancy Academy dorm. He was this annoying
televangelist from upstate New York who'd raised millions of dollars for orphanages and then
got caught spending the money on stuff for his mansion, like gold-plated toilet seats, and an
indoor putt-putt golf course. He'd died in a police chase when his "Lamborghini for the Lord"
went off a cliff.

"What’re they doing to him?" I wondered.

"Special punishment from Hades," Luke guessed. "The really bad people get his personal
attention as soon as they arrive. The Kindly Ones will set up some kind of eternal torture for
him."

“That could be us,” I whisper, horror washing over me at the thought. We’re walking towards
a god who takes no excuses as to where his Helm was. He thinks we stole it. He will punish
someone. He’ll punish Luke and Annabeth.

The thought of the Furies made me shudder. I was in their home territory now. Old Mrs
Dodds would be licking her lips with anticipation.

“Not yet,” Luke stated, putting a hand on my shoulder. “They don’t have enough evidence
and we won’t give them any. We aren’t dying yet. We still have time to get better.”

“Yeah, we do.” I think of that day in the waterpark- is that being better? Is that enough for
him to punish me? Or do I still have time to correct all my mistakes?

We got closer to the gates. The howling was so loud now it shook the ground at my feet, but I
still couldn't figure out where it was coming from.

Then, about fifty feet in front of us, the green mist shimmered. Standing just where the path
split into three lanes was an enormous shadowy monster.

I hadn't seen it before because it was half transparent, like the dead. Until it moved, it blended
with whatever was behind it. Only its eyes and teeth looked solid. And it was staring straight
at me.

All I could think to say was, “I hate this.”

“Seriously?” Annabeth bit out, dagger already drawn. “I couldn’t tell.”

I flipped her off.

The dead walked right up to him- no fear at all. The ATTENDANT ON DUTY lines parted
on either side of him. The EZ DEATH spirits walked right between his front paws and under
his belly, which they could do without even crouching.

The dog's middle head craned toward us. It sniffed the air and growled.

"It can smell the living," I said faintly.

"But that's okay," Luke said, tense next to me. "Because you have a plan."

"Right," Annabeth said. I'd never heard her voice sound quite so small. "A plan."

We moved toward the monster.

The middle head snarled at us, then barked so loud my eyeballs rattled.

“Ophelia, what’s the plan?” Annabeth asked, quietly.

“Slowly reach into your bag, you have a Waterland Park ball still. We’re going to play fetch
with him,” I told her, not taking my eyes off the massive dog.

“What?” Luke hissed, “That is not a plan!”

But Annabeth’s eyes lit up.

Annabeth produced a red rubber ball the size of a grapefruit. She raised the ball and marched
straight up to Cerberus. She shouted, "See the ball? You want the ball, Cerberus? Sit!"

Cerberus looked as stunned as Luke was. I was just smirking smugly.

All three of his heads cocked sideways. Six nostrils dilated.

"Sit!" Annabeth called again.

Cerberus licked his three sets of lips, shifted on his haunches, and sat, immediately crushing a
dozen spirits who'd been passing underneath him in the EZ DEATH line. The spirits made
muffled hisses as they dissipated, like when air gets let out of tires.

Annabeth said, "Good boy!"

She threw Cerberus the ball.

He caught it in his middle mouth. It was barely big enough for him to chew, and the other
heads started snapping at the middle one, trying to get the new toy.

"Drop it," Annabeth ordered.

Cerberus's heads stopped fighting and looked at her. The ball was wedged between two of his
teeth like a tiny piece of gum. He made a loud, scary whimper, then dropped the ball, now
slimy and bitten nearly in half, at Annabeth's feet.

"Good boy." She picked up the ball, ignoring the monster spit all over it.

I grabbed Luke and started tugging him towards the EZ-DEATH line.

Cerberus started to growl.

"Stay!" Annabeth ordered the monster. "If you want the ball, stay!"

Cerberus whimpered, but he stayed where he was.

We made it through. Cerberus wasn't any less scary-looking from the back.

Annabeth praised, "Good dog!"

She held up the tattered red ball, and probably came to the same conclusion I did- if she
rewarded Cerberus, there'd be nothing left for another trick.
 She threw the ball anyway. The monster's left mouth immediately snatched it up, only to be
attacked by the middle head, while the right head moaned in protest.

While the monster was distracted, Annabeth walked briskly under its belly and joined us at
the metal detector.

“You’re the baddest bitch in this world and don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise!” I told
her, beaming. “I love you.”

She rolled her eyes but smiled back at me. “Thanks.”

“You’re both insane and are going to make me grey early,” was Luke’s reply. “Now if we
could please go.”

We were about to bolt through the EZ DEATH line when Cerberus moaned pitifully from all
three mouths. Annabeth stopped.

She turned to face the dog, which had done a one-eighty to look at us. Cerberus panted
expectantly, the tiny red ball in pieces in a puddle of drool at its feet.

"Good boy," Annabeth said, but her voice sounded like melancholy uncertainty.

The monster's heads turned sideways, as if worried about her.

"I'll bring you another ball soon," Annabeth promised somewhat. "Would you like that?"

The monster whimpered. I didn't need to speak dog to know Cerberus was still waiting for
the ball.

"Good dog. I'll come to visit you soon. I- I promise." Annabeth turned to us. "Let's go."

Luke and I pushed through the metal detector, which immediately screamed and set off
flashing red lights. "Unauthorized possessions! Magic detected!"

Cerberus started to bark.

We burst through the EZ DEATH gate, which got even more alarms blaring, and raced into
the Underworld. A few minutes later, we were hiding, out of breath, in the rotten trunk of an
immense black tree as security ghouls scuttled past, yelling for backup from the Furies.

I pretended not to see Annabeth wipe a tear from her cheek as she listened to the mournful
keening of Cerberus in the distance, longing for his new friend.

Hades is ahead of us, behind lay heartbreak, and around us was certain death.

This was never going to be fun.

Chapter End Notes

Raven: Ok! Underworld, Mission: Start! The first part’s not really all that interesting,
but I’m hoping we did a decent job anyways.

Also, if you’re reading this, then please take the time to read through the 25/07/2020
EDIT in the end-of-story notes. We thank you for your patience and respect.

Izzy: This part mostly follows canon, but I can assure you the next few parts will not! I
wasn’t able to finish writing on Friday like I thought, so here’s a Sunday update!

Also, please really do read the EDIT. Some of y'all have gone too far. I should NOT
have to block people on Tumblr because they want to call us out for ‘being P*dos’- a
plainly untrue statement considering this fic has no slash and we’re both minors. We can
and will block, report and delete your comments.
 Hades yells at us.
Chapter Summary

To be fair, if people broke into my house without an invite, I would yell at them too.

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Imagine the largest concert crowd you've ever seen, a foot-ball field packed with a million
fans.

Now imagine a field a million times that big, packed with people, and imagine the electricity
has gone out, and there is no noise, no light, no beach ball bouncing around over the crowd.
Something tragic has happened backstage. Whispering masses of people are just milling
around in the shadows, waiting for a concert that will never start.

If you can picture that, you have a pretty good idea what the Fields of Asphodel looked like.

The black grass had been trampled by eons of dead feet. A warm, moist wind blew like the
breath of a swamp. Black trees- Luke told me they were poplars- grew in clumps here and
there. The cavern ceiling was so high above us it might've been a bank of storm clouds,
except for the stalactites, which glowed faint gray and looked wickedly pointed.

I tried not to think about how they could fall on us at any moment, but dotted around the
fields were several that had fallen and impaled themselves in the black grass. I guess the dead
didn't have to worry about little hazards like being speared by stalactites the size of booster
rockets.

Annabeth, Luke, and I tried to blend into the crowd, keeping an eye out for security ghouls. I
couldn't help looking for familiar faces among the spirits of Asphodel, but the dead are hard
to look at. Their faces shimmer. They all look slightly angry or confused. They will come up
to you and speak, but their voices sound like chatter, like bats twittering. Once they realize
you can't understand them, they frown and move away.

I kept searching for one person though.

Hazel.

She should be here, floating with the other restless souls, alone in what I can only call a sub-
level of hell.

I’ll be back for her. Failing that, I can encourage Nico and Bianca to deal with souls then
come back and resurrect her.
Such a brave spirit deserves to live again.

Unlike me.

We crept along, following the line of new arrivals that snaked from the main gates toward a
blacktented pavilion with a banner that read: ‘JUDGMENTS FOR ELYSIUM AND
ETERNAL DAMNATION. Welcome, Newly Deceased!’

Out the back of the tent came two much smaller lines.

To the left, spirits flanked by security ghouls were marched down a rocky path toward the
Fields of Punishment, which glowed and smoked in the distance. It looks like a vast, cracked
wasteland with rivers of lava, minefields and miles of barbed wire separating the different
torture areas. Even from far away, I could see people being chased by hellhounds, burned at
the stake, forced to run naked through cactus patches or listen to opera music. I could just
make out a tiny hill where the ant-size figure of Sisyphus kept struggling to roll his boulder
to the top. And I saw worse tortures too- things I don't want to describe.

The line coming from the right side of the judgment pavilion was much better. This one led
down toward a small valley surrounded by walls- a gated community, which seemed to be the
only happy part of the Underworld. Beyond the security gate were neighborhoods of
beautiful houses from every time period in history; Roman villas, medieval castles and
Victorian mansions. Silver and gold flowers bloomed on the lawns. The grass rippled in
rainbow colors. I could hear laughter and smell barbecue cooking. That’s definitely Elysium.

In the middle of that valley was a glittering blue lake with three small islands, like a vacation
resort in the Bahamas. The Isles of the Blest, for people who had chosen to be reborn three
times, and three times achieved Elysium.

Would I ever get there? Or would I just keep being reborn, over and over, without rest, in a
new place?

"That's what it's all about," Annabeth said, like she was reading my thoughts. "That's the
place for heroes."

“You’ll get there,” I gave her a smile. “I know you will.”

“Won’t you?” she asked, curious.

“Nah.” I turned away from the island. “Never.”

We left the judgment pavilion and moved deeper into the Asphodel Fields. It got darker. The
colors faded from our clothes. The crowds of chattering spirits began to thin.

After a few miles of walking, we began to hear a familiar screech in the distance. Looming
on the horizon was a palace of glittering black obsidian. Above the parapets swirled three
dark batlike creatures: the Furies. I got the feeling they were waiting for us.
“Are we sure we can’t just let them duke it out and then come in to take over ourselves?”
Luke asked nervously. “We don’t really need to return the Items of Power.”

I rolled my eyes. “Nice try. Come on.”

We continued forwards, me tugging him forward.

Then, I jerked to the side.

Huh?

I got jerked to the side again, this time the tugging feeling more obvious.

Oh fuck. Kronos.

“Ophelia?”

I got tugged on again, actually falling this time towards the pit at the bottom of the hill.

“Help!” I yelped, trying to back away. “Kronos is trying to-!”

This tug was harder and I tumbled down the hill, occasionally rising in the air as his pull got
stronger.

Annabeth ran down after me, hand outstretched to grab me. Luke activated his flying shoes
and was swooping down after me.

I suddenly took a sharp turn and the slope got steeper, sharp rocks cutting into my skin as I
desperately tried to get a grip on something.

Riptide!

The sword sprung into my hands, the sharp blade digging into the ground then skittering off
the blackened stone. I stabbed desperately at the earthy areas, but I couldn’t get leverage and
even if I did at the speed I was going my arms would get fucking dislocated-

“Luke! Annabeth! Please!” I shouted, terrified. “Help!”

They were yelling for me, screaming for me to hold onto something, to slow down, to stop.

I don’t want to fall into Tartarus. I don’t want to fall into Kronos’ hands.

The cavern walls narrowed on either side, and I realized we'd entered some kind of side
tunnel. No black grass or trees now, just rock underfoot, and the dim light of the stalactites
above.

The tunnel got darker and colder. The hairs on my arms bristled. It smelled evil down here. It
made me think of things I shouldn't even know about- blood spilled on an ancient stone altar,
the foul breath of a murderer.
The tunnel widened into a huge dark cavern, and in the middle was a chasm the size of a city
block.

I screamed, high and terrified, Riptide clattering out of nerveless fingers.

No, please no, anything but Tartarus!

I hit a big rock, slamming all the air out of me, but I grabbed at it with all my might.

That saved me.

It delayed my fall push into the Pit just long enough for Luke to catch up and grab me.

He pulled me back up the slope, struggling against the pull of Kronos, until Annabeth caught
up and helped.

We all collapsed, exhausted, on the obsidian gravel. My limbs felt like lead. Even my
backpack seemed heavier, as if somebody had filled it with rocks.

My backpack.

Luke gathered me in his arms, holding me tight, horrified. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

I nodded wordlessly, gripping him back just as tight. Annabeth’s t-shirt was balled in my
hand, tight enough to rip it.

I was scratched up pretty bad. My hands were bleeding.

"Wait," I said, voice shaky. "Listen."

I heard something- a deep whisper in the darkness.

Another few seconds, and Annabeth said, "Ophelia, this place-"

"Shh." I stood.

The sound was getting louder, a muttering, evil voice from far, far below us. Coming from
the pit.

Luke sat up. "What's that noise?"

Annabeth heard it too, now. I could see it in her eyes.

"Tartarus. The entrance to Tartarus." I held up Anaklusmos as it returned. The bronze sword
expanded, gleaming in the darkness, and the evil voice seemed to falter, just for a moment,
before resuming its chant.

I could almost make out words now, ancient, ancient words, older even than Greek. Almost
as if...

"Magic," I murmured, my tone hushed.

"We have to get out of here," Annabeth spoke.

Together, Luke and Annabeth grabbed me and started dragging me back up the tunnel. My
legs wouldn't move fast enough. My backpack weighed me down. The voice got louder and
angrier behind us, and we broke into a run.

Not a moment too soon.

A cold blast of wind pulled at our backs, as if the entire pit were inhaling.

For a terrifying moment, I was weightless, my feet slipping on the gravel. If we'd been any
closer to the edge, we would've been sucked in.

We kept struggling forward and finally reached the top of the tunnel, where the cavern
widened out into the Fields of Asphodel. The wind died. A wail of outrage echoed from deep
in the tunnel.

Something was not happy we'd gotten away.

“Fuck,” I giggled, high on adrenaline. “Kronos is such an asshole.”

Luke stared at me in disbelief while Annabeth burst out in laughter.

“We’re so fucked,” I managed to get out in between hysterical giggles. “I’m going to die.”

Annabeth laughed harder.

Luke flopped back on the ground in despair. “Why did I ever let myself get dragged into
this?”

“Because you love us.” Annabeth elbowed him.

I gave them both a dopey grin as I shakily stood up. “Let’s keep going!”

In sync, they rolled their eyes and said, “You’re insane.”

The Furies still circled the parapets, high in the gloom. The outer walls of the fortress seemed
to suck the light away, and the two-story-tall bronze gates stood wide open.

Up close, I saw that the engravings on the gates were scenes of death. Some were from
modern times; an atomic bomb exploding over a city, a trench filled with gas mask-wearing
soldiers, a line of African famine victims waiting with empty bowls- but all of them looked
as if they'd been etched into the bronze thousands of years ago. I wondered if I was looking at
prophecies that had come true.

Inside the courtyard was the strangest garden I'd ever seen. Multicolored mushrooms,
poisonous shrubs, and weird luminous plants grew without sunlight. Precious jewels made up
for the lack of flowers. Piles of rubies as big as my fist, clumps of raw diamonds, sapphires
gleaming with unnatural light. Standing here and there like frozen party guests were
Medusa's garden statues- petrified children, satyrs, and centaurs- all smiling grotesquely.

In the center of the garden was an orchard of pomegranate trees, their orange blooms neon
bright in the dark. "The garden of Persephone," Annabeth said. "Keep walking."

I understood why she wanted to move on. The tart smell of those pomegranates was almost
overwhelming. I had a sudden desire to eat them, but then I remembered the story of
Persephone. One bite of Underworld food, and we would never be able to leave.

“Who made that stupid rule?”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Luke shrugged and we walked up the steps of the palace, between black columns, through a
black marble portico, and into the house of Hades. The entry hall had a polished bronze floor
which seemed to boil in the reflected torchlight. There was no ceiling, just the cavern roof,
far above. I guess they never had to worry about rain down here.

Every side doorway was guarded by a skeleton in military gear. Some wore Greek armor,
some British redcoat uniforms, some camouflage with tattered American flags on the
shoulders. They carried spears or muskets or M-16s. None of them bothered us, but their
hollow eye sockets followed us as we walked down the hall, toward the big set of doors at the
opposite end.

Two U.S. Marine skeletons guarded those doors. They grinned down at us, rocket-propelled
grenade launchers held across their chests.

My backpack weighed a ton now; the Master Bolt and Helm must have returned fully.

A hot wind blew down the corridor, and the doors swung open. The guards stepped aside.

"I guess that means entrez vous," Annabeth said.

Hades sat on his throne, looking very god-like.

He was at least ten feet tall and dressed in black silk robes with a crown of braided gold. I
shit you not- someone actually braided gold. His skin was albino white, standing out starkly
in the throne room. He kept his hair shoulder length, jet black liquidity falling like ink. He
wasn't bulked up like Ares, but he radiated power. Lounging on his throne of fused human
bones, he looked lithe, graceful, and as dangerous as the afterlife has always been.

The Lord of the Dead resembled pictures I'd seen of Adolph Hitler, or Napoleon, or the
terrorist leaders who direct suicide bombers. Hades had the same intense eyes, the same kind
of mesmerizing, evil charisma.

What a drama queen. Dude, I know you give your son a zombie butler in the future. You
can’t scare me- I know you’re a huge dork.
"You are brave to come here, Daughter of Poseidon," he said in an oily voice. "After what
you have done to me, very brave indeed. Or perhaps you are simply very foolish."

“Or just plain suicidal.” I shrugged. “And I didn’t do anything to you. Swear on the River
Styx and all that.”

We all know that thunder rumbled, except this time, something took notice. Something sat
up, looked at me, decided to do nothing, and left.

Somewhere in the Underworld, the River Styx was listening.

"You did nothing to me?" Hades echoed, stilling. I mean it- every movement in the
Underworld paused for a single, wonderful second.

“So you’re not going to kill us yet? Great!” I gave him a smile, ignoring the way Annabeth
was glaring bloody murder at me for not being respectful. “Right, so, I’ve got you Helm right
here in my backpack- sorry for the delay in returning it, someone kept sending monsters to
kill me before I could return it. I found it with Ares, by the way, I think he was trying to start
a war between the gods but this was a very stupid way to go about it. Also, do you mind
giving me my Mãe back?”

Ooh, I’ve thrown him off his rhythm! Detective JJ Bittenbinder would be so proud!

His face slackened a bit at my little ramble. I took advantage of this to go fishing in the
backpack to grab the Helm, then held it out for him to take.

“Um, please?” I added.

He stood in rage. “IS THIS SOME SORT OF TRICK?”

Out of the corner of my eye, Luke looked like he might faint. Oh dear, I hope he doesn’t.

“Uh, no?” I said, probably more calmly than I felt. “I just swore on the River Styx that I
didn’t do anything to you, but since you’re so doubtful- here’s your Helm, uncle. I didn’t
steal it, Ares gave it to me, and I really want my Mãe freed. I swear on the River Styx.”

Uncle Hades seems to be having a small crises as he stared at these three demi-gods; one
smiled at him without a hint of fear, one looking like they might murder their companion for
their idiocy, and the last one looked like they might faint in horror but was still stood ready in
a clearly practised stance. I think you can guess who is who.

“You swore on the River Styx that you didn’t steal my Helm?” Hades muttered, confused.
“And the oath held true? If Ares had it, as you say, then who stole it?”

I stared him straight in the eyes, blinked, then said, “No idea.”

I’m the baddest bitch in the Universe. I just lied straight in a god’s face! The guy who’s
gonna be in charge of my afterlife too- heh, woops, hindsight.
He glided down the steps leading to his throne, darkness briefly cradling him as he shrunk.
Now a reasonable height, he stopped in front of me.

He took his Helm back delicately, shrewdness in his eyes. “I will need to wash off the mortal
taint on it.”

My eye did not just fucking twitch, you’re a liar!

“Of course, now if you would be so kind-”

Hades interrupted me, waving off my concerns. “Yes, yes. Your mother will be released.”

Hades loosed a ball of gold fire from his palm. It exploded on the steps in front of me, and
there was my mother, frozen in a shower of gold, just as she was at the moment when the
Minotaur began to squeeze her to death.

Then, he released her.

The fire faded, she breathed in, and she disappeared in another shower of gold.

“Has been released,” he corrected idly.

The god eyed my backpack with a hint of greed for a second, but it disappeared quickly.
“You should hurry, little godling. My brothers will get impatient soon, and I believe your
father will be quite upset that you’ve been in my realm so long.”

I winced at that- Pai would be probably throwing a fit if I don’t get back soon. “Right.
Thanks for being so patient, Lord uncle. Goodbye!” I waved.

I fucking waved goodbye to my Uncle the GOD. What the fuck is wrong with me? What in
the Kentucky Fried Fuck am I doing?

I grabbed my partners in crime- literally- and started to tug them towards the exit. Luke
followed, blinking as if to try and reboot his brain (same dude), and Annabeth was opening
and closing her mouth. My money was on her trying to figure out what to yell at me for.

We made it to the outside of the castle, the whole of the Underworld spanned in front of us. I
stopped on the steps.

“Please,” I asked, holding up a hand, “don’t yell at me yet- wait until we’re on the beach.”

“What,” Annabeth hissed dangerously, “was that?”

I pulled out the pearls, handing one to each of them. “My retail Customer Service voice and a
hint of diplomacy. Please, kill me later.”

“Ophelia-” Luke started.

I cut him off. “Later! Smash the pearls.”

They paused, sitting in between simmering with fury and brimming with concern.

Then they nodded, stiffly, slowly, but they nodded.

We smashed the pearls at our feet. For a moment, nothing happened.

The pearl fragments at my feet exploded with a burst of green light and a gust of fresh sea
wind. I was encased in a milky white sphere, which was starting to float off the ground.

Annabeth and Luke were right behind me.

"Look up,'" Luke yelled. "We're going to crash!"

Sure enough, we were racing right toward the stalactites which looked like they would pop
our bubbles and skewer us.

"How do you control these things?" Annabeth shouted.

"I don't think you do!" I shouted back.

We screamed as the bubbles slammed into the ceiling and... Darkness.

“Are we dead?” My voice echoed strangely, like it couldn’t decide where to go.

I could still feel the racing sensation. We were going up, right through solid rock as easily as
an air bubble in water. That was the power of the pearls, I nodded to myself; What belongs to
the sea will always return to the sea. For a few moments, I couldn't see anything outside the
smooth walls of my sphere, then my pearl broke through on the ocean floor.

The two other milky spheres, Annabeth and Luke, kept pace with me as we soared upward
through the water. Ker-blam!

We exploded on the surface, in the middle of the Santa Monica Bay, knocking a surfer off his
board with an indignant, "Dude!"

How the hells do events line up perfectly at some points for the randomest of reasons?

I grabbed Luke and hauled him over to a life buoy. I caught Annabeth and dragged her over
too.

A curious shark was circling us, a great white about eleven feet long. I said, "Fuck off."

The shark turned and raced away.

The surfer screamed something about bad mushrooms and paddled away from us as fast as he
could.

I had to get to shore. I had to get Zeus's thunderbolt back to Olympus. I had to save the
fucking world, and you bet I’ve got no fucks left to give.

Surfs up, people.

 The ocean moved.

Chapter End Notes

Izzy: And we’ve reached the Underworld! Now, you have to stare at the fic while
wondering, ‘What’s going to happen next since there will be no fight with Ares and they
still have time to get the bolt back to Zeus?’ I know I will be doing so! Please help, I
have no plans for the next chapter now that Canon has been thrown out the window. On
that note; the next update will be on Sunday again, but the prequel shall have another
update this Friday!

Raven: Swearing on the River Styx is the single most convenient truth detector ever and
nobody can convince me otherwise.

Izzy: Swearing on the styx would be so convenient for me! “Izzy, was it you who left
the sink dirty?” “No! I swear on the Styx!” And then for once my brother wouldn’t pass
it off to me!

Raven: “Did you do your homework?” “I swear on the River Styx I did!” Then to the
side, ‘I did do it, I just didn’t do all of it. Heh heh.’
 Time to fuck shit up even more, apparently.
Chapter Summary

We all know that prophecies come true, but before that, here’s an even more obvious
road-block to a modern-day demi-god on a quest; Mortals.

Chapter Notes

Trigger Warning for Mentions of Human Trafficking

See the end of the chapter for more notes

We shot forwards, the currents pushing us with what can vaguely be interpreted as
enthusiasm. I would’ve moved us all the way to the shore like this, except we ran into some
problems.

Namely, the Coast Guard picks us up from in the middle of the ocean.

Unfortunately, unlike Canon, there is no massive earthquake shaking up LA to distract them

from the fact that they’ve found the three runaways/terrorists that have been blowing up stuff
across the country.

Yeah… We got arrested.

Luckily, I’m a dramatic little shit who (may or may not) have been a theatre kid in my last
life. (You have no proof!)

As soon as an actual officer appeared, I began to sob in relief.

“Thank goodness!” I cried, “We’re safe!”

Luke, like the Hermes kid he is, immediately got it and began acting along.

He grabbed me and Annabeth close, and kissed our heads, muttering about us being safe and
not endangered anymore- weariness and hope all but pouring out of his mouth.

Annabeth was a bit slow, but her happy tears were actually pretty good.

“What?” the officer- Jack Reynolds from his badge- asked, confused.
“We’re away from our kidnapper!” I exclaimed in between sobs. “We jumped off a human
trafficking boat and tried to swim to shore and you found us!”

The Mist finally kicked in. Praise the Mist.

They gave us shock blankets, double-checked whether or not we were terrorists, then took us
to shore and handed us over to the FBI.

We told them all about our kidnapper, Ares Theoi, who stole me and my Mãe during our
vacation. According to us, he also stole Annabeth about two years ago by telling her father
that he was the driver to her year-round camp, and stole Luke too when he was 7. I told them
that the bus blew up when his co-conspirators- some three older women- threatened me with
a bomb because Mãe had managed to escape. The entire Arch fiscal was when he and his
contact had traded exotic felines and somehow a lion had gotten loose and the contact jumped
out of the hole in an attempt to escape being eaten. Finally, our kidnapper realised that we
were too high-profile in the USA and tried to get us all down to Mexico but I convinced my
fellow stolen friends to jump off the boat and try to swim to shore when he left a window
unlocked.

All in all, a wild fucking ride.

Also, yeah, there are more holes in that story than a fucking sponge, but goddamnit I ain’t no
Hermes kid.

They bought it hook, line and sinker- probably with the Mist working overtime. All of a
sudden, we were these poor children being talked about on every station in the States and
beyond; traumatised and scared and so very relieved to be safe again.

The traumatised part is quite useful (and probably right) considering that Luke nearly bit the
Social Worker woman who wanted to separate us.

My personal favourite part of this whole ordeal is the fact that I heavily implied that Smelly
Gabe may have been part of the trafficking circle. He was the only one to know that Mãe and
I were on holiday, and I’ve seen him with some pretty young girls when he was with his
poker group. Really, I’ve told no lies!

Problem is, now that the FBI and LAPD officers have interrogated us, they don’t want us out
of their sight.

Social Workers have been called, Annabeth’s dad is coming, and they have Officers looking
for my Mãe in every state.

Fuck.

Luke is playing his part of abused, traumatised trafficker survivor really well and going
absolutely feral when they try to take us away from him- but I feel like he isn’t acting all that
much- and Annabeth is flinching from everything though I can see in her eyes that she hates
pretending to be helpless.
And me? I’ve stuck myself to the safe spot under Luke’s arms like a limpet, frantically
stimming by hitting my thigh and trying not to have an anxiety attack as I try to figure out
how to get all the way to Olympus with the Bolt.

They haven’t taken my bag holding the Bolt, thank the gods, but that might be because I
refused to take it off and did my damndest to scratch the officer who tried to take it from me
to oblivion. In my defence, if I lost it, we’re all screwed.

I really fucked up the situation, didn’t I?

A cop- Sargent Daims- entered the room.

Luke, with his protective instincts already dialled up to eleven out of ten, whirled on the cop
and pushed us behind him so quickly I could’ve gotten whiplash. I wondered how often he
had to protect Thalia and Annabeth from cops before for this to be so natural to him.

“Hey,” Daims said softly, positioning himself as non-threatening as possible. “It’s okay.
Luke, Annabeth, we’ve got your families here.”

Luke wasn’t faking his confusion. “I don’t have any family. The only ones I have are right
here. What trick is this?” He snarled the last part.

Annabeth seemed more concerned at the fact that her father was waiting in the other room,
and shared a panicked look with me.

“Hey, Luke, don’t you remember?” Daims failed miserably at de-escalation. “Your father
works at a post-office in LA, your mother lives in Connecticut. They’ve been mighty worried
for you, missing you for the past eleven years. Your father is waiting in the other room for
you.”

We all realised what had happened at the exact same time.

Hermes is here.

My nails dig into my thigh as I quietly whisper swears. Annabeth pulls Luke backwards,
making him stumble and sit back down, but we quickly grab him in a hug. Luke looked a
combination of furious, in shock, and more confused than an actual kidnapee.

“My father?” he rasped.

“Yeah, your father. Can I let him and the Chase’s in?” He knows he can speak to us in a less
condescending tone, right? We’re not children. Well, Luke and I aren’t- Annabeth hasn’t even
started puberty.

Annabeth stepped in. “I don’t trust your officers.”

“That’s fine, we can just watch on the cameras. You can be here alone with them.”
She gave a reluctant nod.

Daims left the room, leaving the door open behind him.

A man appeared in the doorway, and Annabeth moved so quickly that she was a blur.

“Dad!” she shouted, throwing herself at him.

Frederick Chase looked so happy to see her, he was crying in relief.

A woman came up behind them and joined the hug, happily kneeling down to Annabeth’s
height to speak to her in a low voice.

I smiled. I knew that Annabeth was just explaining her quest to her dad and step-mom, so I
left her alone to face the elephant god in the room.

Hermes was smiling softly at Luke, worry plain in his eyes from the doorway.

“Father,” Luke whispered reverently.

Hermes didn’t waste a second; one minute he was at the doorway looking like a kicked
puppy, next he had Luke in his arms, whispering his name like a prayer like he never wanted
to let him go again.

I didn’t interrupt. I know full well how precious a few moments of your parents’ time can be-
especially when they’re gone and you thought they didn’t care about you for most of your
life. I learnt that lesson in my last life and this one; there’s nothing better than to be hugged
by your parents, even if they don’t truly love you back.

“Why?” Luke wondered when Hermes finally pulled away. “I thought-”

The god smiled sadly. “Hades has told Zeus what has happened, how Ares had the Bolt and
Helm. He’s allowed me to come bail you out so that you can complete the quest.”

“We still have to finish the quest?” Luke asked bitterly.

I quickly elbowed him and stepped in. “Of course we do, Luke. We haven’t even finished
with the Oracle’s prophecy yet.”

I really don’t want the Oracle’s prophecy to come true, but I ain’t saying anything about that
in front of an Olympian.

“Ah.” Hermes turned to me. “You must be Poseidon’s daughter. You’ve caused a lot of
destruction.”

I don’t even need eyes to know he’s unimpressed with me.

“It was an accident!” I defended myself. “I wouldn't cause that much destruction
intentionally- it was a meltdown!”
“Right,” he sighed. “Father won’t care for that excuse though.”

I withered. I really hope Zeus doesn’t kill Luke and Annabeth for my mistake.

Luke pulled me closer to him. “Well, he’ll have to accept it anyway.”

I practically melted. Luke’s the best soulmate I could ever ask for, even if I feel like he
deserves better than me.

Hermes squinted at us both. “I won’t be able to save you both.”

“Then save Luke,” I said as if he’s the one being stupid.

“What? No, Ophelia!” Luke protested.

“-And ignore his protests when you do. He’ll be angry, but will calm down after you slap
some sense into him.”

“Ophelia! Don’t you dare!” Luke hissed.

Hermes looked amused and approving. “I like you,” he told me.

“Thanks.” I gave him a sardonic grin.

Annabeth approached us, her guardians trailing behind her.

“So, you’re going to get us out of here, Lord Hermes?”

“Yes.” He stood back up, brushing invisible dust off his track pants. “If you’d follow me, the
officers will let you walk straight out.”

We nodded, scrambling to our feet, ready to blow this popsicle stand.

“Annabeth,” Frederick stopped her. “Don’t forget to come home afterwards.”

She nodded. I pretended not to see the tears in her eyes.

Not a single agent or cop looked at us twice as we followed Hermes out of the precinct.

Hermes seemed to be shoving as many things as he could at us. “Father doesn’t know about
this, so keep it hush, okay?”

Inside a backpack, there was a wallet filled with mortal and immortal money (about 1000
bucks and 30 drachma), some snacks, water bottles, ambrosia, nectar, a first aid kit, and-
surprisingly- a phone.

“Father and Monsters can’t track it. I want at least a yearly call, okay Luke? And you too
kiddos, make sure your parents don’t think you’ve died.”
I wanted to make a quip about prank-calling Zeus since he apparently can’t track it, but then
decided that I’ve already almost gotten killed by a god via dumbassery today. I’ve met my
quota, thanks.

Hermes opened a door, hurrying us all outside into the sunlight.

“Don’t forget, Father wants you dead still. Try not to give him a reason to go through with
that,” he warned. Moving as if to leave, he paused, hesitating. Quickly spinning around and
cupping Luke’s cheek, he declared, “I’m proud of you.”

Luke gaped, blue-screening.

Hermes turned to me. “Protect my son, whatever the cost.”

I nodded solemnly. That’s a task I already gave myself.

He nodded back, eyes glinting with something a bit less obvious than Dionysus’, but the gaze
he pinned me with told me why he’s the God of Thieves.

It wasn’t because he was smart enough to get away with it- it was because he would get away
with it, and nothing could say otherwise.

Hermes disappeared in a flutter of wings.

We all let out a sigh of relief, nigh collapsing on each other as we slumped onto a park bench.

I think I could’ve sat there for all of fucking eternity, but this? This deserves commentary.

“So. Your dad.”

None of us needed clarification on whose dad I was talking about.

“Yeah,” Luke sighed out, still coming off his adrenaline high.

“... Not gonna lie, the gods are fucking scary when they set their minds on something.”

“Mhm,” Annabeth agreed.

“I mean, we’re out. No questions asked, no complication, no nothing. Makes me wonder

what exactly he had to do. I mean, is he capable of brainwashing?” I rambled.

“Ophelia?” Luke yawned.

“Yeah?”

“Relax already,” Annabeth finished.

“M‘kay.”
The conversation puttered out into exhausted silence. I don’t really care how much time had
passed- the events of the day were really catching up to me. People began looking at us
weirdly though, so I got up with a sigh,

They grumbled when I urged them off the bench, but I was quick to point out that we should
get moving.

“Okay, here’s the plan. We go to a mall, we get cleaned up, disguised, re-freshened to the
point where we’re not liable to stab someone if they look at us wrong, and we go from there.
We’ve got time, and a couple of hours won’t hurt. All in favour?”

“Aye,” Annabeth and Luke chorused.

“Excellent, let’s haul ass.”

“Can’t you ever not be crude?” Luke muttered.

With that, we dragged ourselves to the closest shopping centre/mall/what-the-hell-ever we

could find. Soon enough, I was staring up at a blue and yellow building proclaiming,
‘Walmart’.

“This is one of the single most clichéd places for things to happen, ever,” I stated.

“Let’s go,” Annabeth huffed impatiently. “I want to change into something that isn’t charred
and ripped by the Underworld. We’ll need to cover up too- can’t have anyone recognising us
as the infamous kidnapped children. We’re going to need hats, sunglasses, a hoodie and a
nice pair of shoes before we go see the King of the Gods.”

Luke didn’t say anything, guiding us both patiently into the building instead. We quickly
picked out everything we needed, paid at the register, then secluded ourselves in one of the
more private changing rooms. As soon as nobody was looking, Luke slipped into the same
cubicle as us. The tension eased down by a few notches as soon as the lock clicked shut.

“Sooooo,” I drawled after finishing up with the deodorant and tossing it to Annabeth.
“What’s the plan, guys?”

Luke hummed in thought, taking advantage of the bench our cubicle has to finally lie down
and relax. “Well, I can see a couple of options, but the best one can also be called the worst
one, in a manner of speaking.”

“Some options are better than no option,” Annabeth grunted, securing her hair into a tight
bun.

“Indeed. Other times, it is better to take what you have and leave well enough alone.”

That wasn’t any of us.

I only had a split second to thank whatever had come over us that had us claiming the biggest
cubicle available as Riptide tore through the air, only to stop and reconsider my opinion as to
exactly what I was thanking.
Or, should I say, whom.

The Moirai stared back at me, their expressions distinctly unimpressed.

“Child,” they intoned, their faces somehow falling even flatter. “We need to talk.”

Someone behind me gulped.

“Uh,” I tried. “Can it wait? We need to get the Master Bolt over to the Empire State Building
and not to mention all the mortals around right now-”

“It is of no concern,” one of them dismissed, the Mist tightening its hold around us as she
spoke. And wasn’t that interesting- there’s so much smoke and Mist and I-don’t-even-want-
to-know clogging up my sight right now that I could barely make out their baleful eyes.

Said eyes were glaring. At me. What the fuck.

“What the fuck,” one of them hissed, “is exactly what we should be asking you, Persephone
Ophelia Jackson. Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

“N-no,” I stuttered out, hands reaching blindly for the reassuring presence of my family.

“‘No!’ she says!” they roared, gnarled hands tearing images into reality.

I watched on in horror as a pulsing mass of otherness manifested itself into something my

mortal eyes could comprehend, and even then, it was just barely. Images flashed over and
over again, searing itself into my brain, but that was just the subtext. Even as I struggled to
breathe, five words etched themselves into my consciousness with all the subtly of the
fucking Masterbolt.

LIFE.

AND.

FATE.

ARE.

FRAGILE.

I won’t scare you off with the horrifyingMindbreakingSanitydestroyingWORLDEnding A-

FUCKING-POCALYPSE details, but as my legs finally gave up the ghost and sent me
careening to the ground, I got the basic message.

According to the Fates, I done fucked up.

“We intertwined your-”

“H-Hold up!” I struggled and clawed at the walls, but the Fates continued on mercilessly.
“-thread with the boy’s, but you weren’t satisfied with that. Now it’s all off-script, and
unmade and undone and the old threads don’t fit anymore. Everything’s falling apart, Time
does not wait, and We can only give what We have got. Do you understand, Persephone?”

I tried to reply, to say something, dish out some of my sanity-saving snark- I really did. It’s
just, each time I did, the smokey grey thing wriggled it’s way down my throat and stole the
words from my tongue. I was retching, and I felt like I was falling and I was adrift and
ohgodwhat where-

A hand clasped my shoulder. Another one joined it.

Breathe girl, you can do it.

Letting out a breath, I spat out the gunk and-

“In English?” I managed to gasp out, finally bracing myself with Riptide, the divine metal
glowing in the fog.

“You did what never should have been done,” one of them sneered, breaking synchrony for
the first time since they ambushed us. “Now we have to pay- now the world has to pay.”

“I was saving us all!” I howled my defiance to their faces, to the world. “You’re blasted
world would see hundreds, thousands dead and I can change tha-”

“Fool.”

This time, the Mist simply took away my mouth. I had nothing to speak with, so I didn’t.
Instead, I furiously swiped my sword in their direction.

“Fool,” they chanted, their wisps of aura churning reality faster and faster. “Fool. The world
you so seek is uncertain, unstable and untested. You seek a world where All the World’s Evils
can win, whereas we guided the world so that All the World’s Evils will not. The odds are no
longer in favour of either; it is Balanced, and it is most Terrible. We gave you the chance to
save One, but to be the saviour of One is not to be the saviour of Others. The Strings you
have twisted will longer accept Our weavings. We curse you, Persephone Ophelia Jackson,
for no more are Our Certainties. Fate is uncertain and frayed, and so the Fate of the World is
Undecided. You have betrayed Us, Persephone Ophelia Jackson. You are Balancer, Chaos
Maker, Order Bringer, the Maker of Free-Will, and We curse you for it.”

They finished their scathing tirade, because that’s really what they were doing, and
disappeared into the Mist, the Fog, and the Other.

They disappeared, and I was spun around to face a wide-eyed Annabeth.

“What!” she managed to choke out before being moved aside.

I glanced up feverishly to thank him for giving me space, but cut myself off.

“We need to talk,” my soulmate rumbled, and I shrank back.

 I just knew Walmart was a bad idea.

Chapter End Notes

Raven: We said in the summary that some butterflies would come home to roost, but we
never did say that the prophecy’s going to play out in the next chapter, now did we?

Izzy: The prophecy is nearly done! And we’ve reached the Point of No Return! Ophelia
has truly fucked up, Canon will slowly show up less and less as we fuck more things up!
Ophelia is def going “Mothertrucker, this is as bad as a buttcheek on a stick!” as she
panics lmao

Raven: Also, it’s come to our attention that the epic rant the Fates went on may be a bit
hard to wrap your head around, so the ‘English’ version is in the next part of the series:
“For fuck’s sake, this is why you plan!” The reason being that this authors’ notes would
be too long otherwise soooo…. Yeah.

Izzy: Apparently people are less likely to read A/N’s if they’re too long which, not cool
dudes. They’re here for a reason and often have important info. (Tho i’m fully aware we
make jokes on our A/N’s but that’s bc we’re dumbasses)
I’m always going to call the Master Bolt the Zeusy zappy zapper.
Chapter Summary

Delivering the Master Bolt; It begins with tears and ends with your life at the whims of
someone else.

Chapter Notes

Trigger Warning for Vomit

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Luke is Not Happy with me.

I never thought I’d be afraid of him, but with the furious snarl on his face as he drags me out
of the Walmart, I’m terrified.

The only way this could be worse is if he simply walked away.

He pays Annabeth no mind as she screams at him to let me go, tugging on his arm, but he
only pushes her off. I yelp as he shoves me towards the wall of an alleyway. Even as I
stumble away from him, he stalks forward, hands visibly twitching.

“What the fuck was that?” he spat, unsheathing his sword in a single, clean movement. “Who
are you?”

I put my hands up in surrender. “Whoa! I think we all need to calm down here,” I tried.

“Calm down?” he spat. “Calm down? The Fates just showed up, and you are not who you
claim to be!”

“Then who do you think I am?”

He jerked as if to make a violent motion and Annabeth hastily tried to step in, but she could
only hover helplessly at his wordless growl.

“Look, Luke-”

“WHO ARE YOU?” he yelled at me. “Who the fuck are you!”

“I’m me! Persephone Ophelia Jackson! Me!”

“Stop lying!”

“Lu-”

He slapped me.

I read somewhere once that there was a world of difference between a closed fist and an open
palm.

Gods forgive me, I know exactly what they meant.

The effect was instantaneous. I shut up, cradling my cheek as tears streamed down my face.
Annabeth gasped made an aborted movement and Luke… Luke had suddenly doubled over,
coughing and hacking. He wheezed audibly, choking on something that wasn’t there, panic
plain as day as he realised he couldn’t breathe.

“No!” I shouted, scrambling towards him.

He collapsed backwards, gasping for air that wouldn’t come, Backbiter clattering on the
concrete.

“Nononono,” I cried softly. My hands hovered over his chest, panicking as my soulmate lay
dying in front of me. “Come on, you can’t- please, Luke breathe!” I sobbed.

Annabeth knelt over him too, screaming something that I couldn’t hear. It could’ve been at
either of us, but I was barely registering right now.

“Please! Please! I’m sorry! Please!” I begged anything everything. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!
Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare die on me! Luke!”

His face was turning blue, his eyes fluttering closed.

The hole in my chest- the pressure- grew.

“Breathe!” I told him, clutching at him desperately. My hands came to cup his face.
“Breathe!”

His eyes flew open. Blue skies met green seas. He breathed.

I collapsed, snaking my arms around him, sobbing into his chest in relief, chanting “thank
you,” to every deity I knew.

There’s a knife at my throat.

I lifted my head to greet tempered steel.

“How did you do that?” Annabeth asked, eyes flintier than I thought possible. “What are
you?”

I tried to stagger away from her blade, but she followed me, relentless. “What did you do?”
Through the tears still choking me, I could see Luke scrabble to his feet, rubbing his neck as
he stared at me in horror.

I took a deep breath.

This isn’t how they were supposed to find out.

Shit. Fuck. Damn it. Stupid.

“Ophelia Marie Eduarda de Lopez was the name I died with,” I began. “After that, I was
named Persephone Ophelia Jackson.”

Annabeth’s blade at my neck wavered for a second but quickly came back to press against
my skin in a cold kiss.

“What is that supposed to mean?” she threw out.

I closed my eyes.

A salty tear hit the blade.

“It means that I was reborn, but they never took my memories.”

“What?” Luke’s voice was raspy from when the Soulmate bond tried to kill him.

“I lived for twenty years in another Universe; a world where this, this entire world, is a
fictional story. Then I got born again. Born here.”

“That’s impossible,” Annabeth hissed, implications visibly running through her head.

A thin sliver of blood welled up on my neck.

Quietly, I added, “I had thought so too.”

Luke looked betrayed, his shoulders hunched and back to the wall. “Why did you lie to us?”

I want to lean into the knife.

“Would you have believed me?” I don’t let them answer. “I was planning to tell, after the
quest, but I suppose that won’t be happening.”

“So what, that’s what the Fates were after? They figured out you’re not who you say?”

I smiled, proud and broken.

“No,” I whispered. “I destroyed their Fates. Now they don’t have to die.”

The knife is pulled away from my neck.

I almost miss its presence.

Annabeth staggers back, Luke grabs her close as he stares at me in horror.

“What?”

“I went to the Fates with a proposal; I get their permission to change your fate. Luke, you…
Kronos’ plans hinged completely on you. I save your life and the entire tapestry unravels. I
acted on what I know from the stories, and I stopped so many disasters. A hundred lives have
already been saved in the past three weeks since the deal was made- It’s far more than they
offered. Than what they thought they offered.” My fist came up and clenched my chest, over
my heart. “I don’t regret it.”

I’d never regret it- not when this was the best option. Could I have done it better? Yeah. Is
there anything I can do about it now? No.

It had to be enough.

“What was the deal?”

My head snapped up to Luke’s corpse-pale face before flinching to the side.

I didn’t say. How could I tell him?

“Ophelia, what was the deal?” he pressed.

How could I tell him that I manipulated him just like Kronos?

“What did you do?”

His voice was desperate and scared and choked.

“What did you do to save my life?” he screamed.

If my heart were glass, it would be fine dust.

“You can’t just extend a Life-String when the Fates have chosen its future.” A shaky breath
rattled my entire being. “To change its fate, you have to intertwine it with another. A
soulmate if you will. To harm one is to harm the other; for one to hurt their own soulmate…
is akin to suicide.”

I couldn’t go on.

Luke was pale, shaking with the realisation of everything that had ever happened.

“I think you know, now,” I concluded lamely.

The silence dragged.

Luke collapsed, screaming incoherently. His hand reached out and grasped the closed thing
he could find. His sword sparked against the wall. Once. Twice.
I don’t blame him. I’d be pretty pissed if someone told me my life had been tied to someone
else’s in order to save the world, too. ‘This is what you deserve,’ I remind myself. ‘This is
what your manipulative, puppeteering, secret-keeping ass deserves.’

A noise akin to a dying animal made me peer up.

Annabeth was crying.

“Why?” she sobbed out. “Why?”

“I had to try,” I defended weakly, tearing blinding my vision. “I couldn’t just let them die.”

“You lied to us. And family- !”

My voice came out broken. “And family doesn’t lie to protect each other?”

She didn’t reply.

With a stuttered sigh, I tilted my head to the sky. The sky… A place that I couldn’t even go
anymore. That’s sad- if I were Catholic it would be kinda detrimental. Do souls need to fly to
get up to Heaven? Ah, too bad I’m not Catholic- I’m a demi-god now.

Oh, who am I even kidding?

Something shattered. I began to grieve in earnest.

Three teenagers sobbed in an alley as secrets worth their weight in blood came crashing
down.

Heh. Never knew something could sound both clichéd and new.

They hate me. I know they hate me.

I took those words and tried to scream them wordlessly as I wailed.

This. This is it. This is where it all ends. I want this to end. Oblivion. Sweet oblivion where
are you? Are you there? When can I-

Something’s tugging me forwards. Something wrapped itself around me and-

Oh. Now two somethings have wrapped around me.

Something wet and warm trickled down my neck. A lump of warmth draped itself across my
lap. My neck had a crick in it and my eyes were so salty they might've crusted over. I blinked,
some kind of shaking bringing me out of my daze. Then slowly, ever so slowly, I looked down.

Annabeth. Her head’s in Luke’s stomach, her body sprawled across my lap. The shaking’s
from the force of her silent sobs.

Luke. Bawling into my shoulder, hands fisting my shirt. His arms locked around me, tighter
than any bond.
… This is real?

“Are you real?”

“What are you even talking about-”

Annabeth breaking off with a choked snivel made me bite my tongue. I could taste copper and
stings, I could taste salt and weakness.

It was the taste of reality.

What is it that people say? If you fall, get back up again? Such a stupid, fitting, phrase.

I got people to save, sanity to keep a hold of, you know- the usual.

As I hugged them tighter, I figured all that could wait.

I sniffed, scrubbing at my face with my hands. “What now?”

Luke ran his hand through his hair, the other massaging eyes. “Now we return the Bolt.”

“How?” Annabeth, ever the pragmatic one, asked. “It took us a week to get to LA, and we
don’t have a week to get back to New York.”

“Well,” I spoke up. “We could always just take the Gray Sisters Cab.”

Luke and Annabeth shared a look, one of passionate hatred, then turned back to me.

“No.”

“Hells no.”

For fuck’s sake!

“It’s the quickest way!” I argued. “It’s not like we can fly there!”

I could see the debate in Annabeth’s eyes.

“No. No planes.” I pointed a finger at her. “The Cab is safer and we don’t even need our
passports for it.”

Luke huffed, “Fine. I’m not holding your hair back if you vomit though.”

I snorted at that. “As if I’d vomit.”

With our teasing banter, it’s so easy to pretend that so much had never happened. I knew
better. No way anyone’s that forgiving, especially with street kids like Luke and Annabeth.

We all stumbled towards the mouth of the alley, back into the light of day.
I nearly hissed out loud. My head was pulsing a dull beat from all that crying and the
sunlight hurt my retinas.

Wasting no time, Luke dug into the backpack his father had given him, pulling out a drachma.
He tossed the coin into the road, watching it sink through, and cried out, "Stêthi, Ô hárma
diabolês!"

The now-familiar taxi rose up from the smoking asphalt, hissing as it melted from the ground.

The Sister’s rolled down the window.

“Sup girlies!” I gave them a toothy grin. “One way trip to Manhattan, Empire State Building
please!”

They narrowed their eyes at me. “You’re back.”

“And paying!” I opened the back door and climbed in. “Just like last time! Now, how much is
the fare?”

They eyed me greedily. “Another one of those cards of yours will do nicely.”

I yanked on Annabeth’s arm so she’d fall inside the taxi.

“I don’t have any,” I lied. “How much in drachma?”

Luke slid in just as they answered.

“Seven.”

“Ripoff,” I muttered but forked it over.

They cackled, and Luke frantically clicked his own seatbelt on, then Annabeth’s and mine.

“Hold onto your seats!”

“I’d hold onto my soul if I could,” I got out before one of the Sisters slammed it.

Ay porra-! (Shit-!)

Wanna know what I found out today? Uncle Rick’s description of the Gray Sisters’ Taxi ride
was right.

After you magnify it by a factor of 100.

When we arrived at the Empire State Building, I clambered out and vomited on the sidewalk.

Luke, true to his word, didn’t hold my hair back when I threw up.
I’d insult him, but I’m fully aware that he’s being just as petty as I would’ve been in this
situation.

When I straightened and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, the words were in my
mouth before I’d even thought about it.

“You’re not coming up with me.”

“What?” Annabeth scowled. “As if.”

“You have to get to Camp and explain everything to Chiron. I might get murdered for this,
and I rather someone live to tell the tale,” I explained.

Luke shook his head. “No way, not after all those secrets. We’re not letting you go off on your
own so you can lie to us again.”

I winced. He’s completely right.

“If I get hurt, so will you,” I warned him. “The distance might lessen the blow.”

Annabeth hesitated, but Luke persevered.

“We’re going.”

I sighed. What else was there to do?

One minute later, we walked into the lobby of the Empire State Building.

I went up to the guard at the front desk and said, "Six hundredth floor."

He was reading a huge book with a picture of a wizard on the front. I wasn't much into
fantasy, but the book must've been good, because the guard took a while to look up. "No such
floor, kiddos."

"We need an audience with Zeus."

He gave me a vacant smile. "Sorry?"

"You heard me."

He said, "No appointment, no audience, kiddos. Lord Zeus doesn't see anyone unannounced."

"Oh, I think he'll make an exception." I slipped off my backpack and unzipped the top.

The guard looked inside at the metal cylinder, not getting what it was for a few seconds. Then
his face went pale. "That isn't..."

"Yes, it is," I promised. "You want me to take it out and-"

"No! No!" He scrambled out of his seat, fumbled around his desk for a key card, then handed
it to me. "Insert this in the security slot. Make sure nobody else is in the elevator with you."
I did as he told us. As soon as the elevator doors closed, I slipped the key into the slot. The
card disappeared and a new button melted out of the console, a red one that said 600.

Annabeth pressed it and we waited, and waited.

The Spice Girls were playing, ‘So tell me what you want, what you really really want!’

Finally, ding! The doors slid open.

I stepped out and almost had a heart attack. I was standing on a narrow stone walkway in the
middle of the air. Below me was Manhattan, from the height of an aeroplane. In front of me,
white marble steps wound up the spine of a cloud, into the sky. My eyes followed the stairway
to its end, where my brain just could not accept what I saw.

Look again, my brain-cell said.

We're looking, my eyes insisted; it's really there.

From the top of the clouds rose the decapitated peak of a mountain, its summit covered with
snow. Clinging to the mountainside were dozens of multileveled palaces-a city of mansions-
all with white-columned porticos, gilded terraces, and bronze braziers glowing with a
thousand fires. Roads wound crazily up to the peak, where the largest palace gleamed against
the snow. Precariously perched gardens bloomed with olive trees and rose bushes. I could
make out an open-air market filled with colourful tents, a stone amphitheatre built on one
side of the mountain, a hippodrome and a coliseum on the other.

It was an Ancient Greek city, except it wasn't in ruins. It was new, clean, and colourful, the
way Athens must've looked twenty-five hundred years ago.

This place can't be here, I told myself. The tip of a mountain hanging over New York City like
a billion-ton asteroid? How could something like that be anchored above the Empire State
Building, in plain sight of millions of people, and not get noticed?

Right. The Mist and godly powers. I really should stop trying to think of things logically when
that exists.

Annabeth was gaping at everything just as much as me, and she’s been here before. Luke had
to grab us both by the elbow and drag us forwards since we couldn’t take our eyes off the
architecture.

My trip through Olympus was a daze, and Luke only pausing to save me from tripping over a
few times. Annabeth fared marginally better.

I passed some giggling wood nymphs who threw olives at me from their garden. Hawkers in
the market offered to sell me ambrosia-on-a-stick, and a new shield, and a genuine glitter-
weave replica of the Golden Fleece (as seen on Hephaestus-TV). The nine muses were tuning
their instruments for a concert in the park while a small crowd gathered- satyrs and naiads
and a bunch of good-looking teenagers who might've been minor gods and goddesses.
Nobody seemed worried about an impending civil war. In fact, everybody seemed in a festive
mood. Several of them turned to watch us pass, and whispered to themselves.

I climbed the main road, toward the big palace at the peak.

It was a reverse copy of the palace in the Underworld.

There, everything had been black and bronze. Here, everything glittered white and silver.

Hades must’ve built his palace to resemble this one. He wasn't welcomed in Olympus except
on the winter solstice, so he'd built his own Olympus underground. I felt sorry for him, he
shouldn’t be banished from here just because he presides over death. Death is a natural part
of Life- trust me, I’d know.

Steps led up to a central courtyard. Past that, the throne room.

Room really isn't the right word. The place made Grand Central Station look like a broom
closet. Massive columns rose to a domed ceiling, which was gilded with moving
constellations.

Twelve thrones, built for beings the size of Hades, were arranged in an inverted U, just like
the cabins at Camp Half-Blood. An enormous fire crackled in the central hearth pit. The
thrones were empty except for two at the end: the head throne on the right, and the one to its
immediate left. I didn't have to be told who the two gods were that were sitting there, waiting
for us to approach.

We strode towards them, me at the lead.

The gods were in giant human form, as Hades had been, but I could barely look at them
without feeling a tingle, as if my body were starting to burn.

I could barely stop my expression from twisting. The idiots must have their godly forms
leaking out, and at least Hades had had the courtesy not to do that no matter how emotional
he got.

Zeus, the Lord of the Gods, wore a dark blue pinstripe suit. He sat on a simple throne of solid
platinum. He had a well-trimmed beard, marbled grey and black like a storm cloud. His face
was proud and handsome and grim, his eyes rainy grey. As I got nearer to him, the air
crackled and smelled of ozone.

The god sitting next to him was his brother, without a doubt, but he was dressed very
differently. He reminded me of a beachcomber from Key West. He wore leather sandals, khaki
Bermuda shorts, and a Tommy Bahama shirt with coconuts and parrots all over it. His skin
was deeply tanned, his hands scarred like an old-time fisherman's. His hair was black, like
mine. His face had that same brooding look that had always gotten me branded a rebel. But
his eyes, sea-green like mine, were surrounded by sun-crinkles that told me he smiled a lot,
too. His throne was a deep-sea fisherman's chair. It was the simple swivelling kind, with a
black leather seat and a built-in holster for a fishing pole. Instead of a pole, the holster held
a bronze trident, flickering with green light around the tips.
Pai.

The gods weren't moving or speaking, but there was tension in the air as if they'd just finished
an argument.

I smiled politely and knelt at my Pai’s feet.

Luke and Annabeth, knowing better, knelt at Zeus’ feet.

To my left, Zeus spoke. "Should you not address the master of this house first, girl?"

I physically bit my tongue and let my nails dig into my leg to stop myself from reacting.

"Peace, brother," Poseidon finally said. His voice stirred my oldest memories: that warm
glow I remembered as a baby, the sensation of this god's hand on my forehead. "She defers to
her father. This is only right."

"You still claim her then?" Zeus asked, menacingly. "You claim this child whom you sired
against our sacred oath?"

"I have admitted my wrongdoing," Poseidon said. "Now I would hear her speak."

I took this as my cue and stood back up.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Luke and Annabeth do the same.

“Address Lord Zeus, daughter," Pai told me. "Tell him your story."

So I did.

Well, a story riddled with lies and carefully crafted plot holes because I don’t want the gods
to smite me for knowing the future or committing treason or some shit like that.

I took out the metal cylinder, which began sparking in the Sky God's presence, and laid it at
his feet.

There was a long silence, broken only by the crackle of the hearth fire.

Zeus opened his palm. The lightning bolt flew into it. As he closed his fist, the metallic points
flared with electricity, until he was holding what looked more like the classic thunderbolt, a
twenty-foot javelin of arcing, hissing energy that made the hairs on my scalp rise.

"I sense the girl tells the truth," Zeus muttered. "But that Ares would do such a thing ... it is
most unlike him."

"He is proud and impulsive," Pai pointed out. "It runs in the family."

What a mood. That’s exactly me, 24/7, ‘Prideful and Impulsive’. Maybe I should get a
nametag? I’m sure a lot of family members would need them- Tia Gloria for one, that
horrible Karen hag.
Wait a second, don’t I have something important to tell them?

“My lords?”

"Yes?" they inquired.

"Ares didn't act alone. The whole thing isn’t his modus operandi- someone else must have
come up with the idea."

I described the way that Tartarus tried to suck me down into it. The feeling of being watched
by a dark presence, and the disappointed noise something had made when I didn’t fall.

“The voice told me to bring the bolt to the Underworld and I’m pretty sure Ares hinted that
he'd been having dreams, too. I think he was being used, just as I was, to start a war."

That’s the basic gist of what canon Percy had said, right?

"You are accusing Hades, after all?" Zeus asked.

… Which part of being able to control Tartarus sounded like Hades? If anything, he’s the one
who knows to avoid the Pit because he’d immediately be associated with it.

“No,” I repeated. “I’ve met Hades, and that wasn’t it. Whatever it was, it was older than the
gods, powerful and evil, and in Tartarus.”

Do I really have to spell it out for him?

Poseidon and Zeus looked at each other. They had a quick, intense discussion in Ancient
Greek. I only caught one word. ‘Father’.

Finally! They’ve caught on!

Poseidon made some kind of suggestion, but Zeus cut him off. Poseidon tried to argue. Zeus
held up his hand angrily. "We will speak of this no more," Zeus said. "I must go personally to
purify this thunderbolt in the waters of Lemnos, to remove the human taint from its metal."

Oh for fuck’s sake! What does a girl have to do to get a little bit of common sense around
here? It’s Kronos! K-R-O-N-O-S! If I were them, I’d be sending out feelers to confirm the
situation, stat!

Zeus rose and looked at me. His expression softened just a fraction of a degree. "You have
done me a service, girl. Few heroes could have accomplished as much." He turned to my
companions and gave them a short nod. “You too.” Then back to me.

"To show you my thanks, I shall spare your life. I do not trust you, Persephone Jackson. I do
not like what your arrival means for the future of Olympus. But for the sake of peace in the
family, I shall let you live."

Luke discreetly elbowed me so my, “Thanks,” wasn’t as politely sarcastic.

Thunder shook the palace. With a blinding flash of lightning, Zeus was gone.

I wonder how often the Olympians has to fix their eardrums.

Now, there are only three demigods and one god in the room.

"Your uncle," Pai sighed, "has always had a flair for dramatic exits. I think he would've done
well as the god of theatre."

An uncomfortable silence.

Fuck it.

I boldly walked forwards, stopping a couple of meters away from his feet. Firmly pinning my
gaze on his amused eyes, I raised an eyebrow.

He stood up, shrinking down to human height to face me without craning his neck too much
(and I’m fully aware of my short stature, thank you very much).

I launched myself at him in a clearly telegraphed movement, wrapping my arms around him
in a warm hug, that, after a beat, he reciprocated.

“Eu senti sua falta, Pai,” I murmured into his chest, “Te amo.” (I missed you, dad. I love
you.)

I could hear his deep voice rumbling around me, “Tambien te amo minha princesa.” (I love
you too, princess)

He turned to the others. “If you please give us some privacy, my daughter and I need to have
a talk.”

Luke and Annabeth seemed reluctant to go, but neither of them would directly refuse a god
without any underlying suicidal tendencies. They left without a fuss, and then we were alone.

“You’ve grown,” he stated, making me turn back to him.

He was smiling softly, eyes shining with the ocean.

“Not that much,” I joked. “Mãe still towers over me, and she isn’t that tall either.”

He laughed, a full-bodied one and every part joyful. “I know.”

I didn’t speak, silent for once as I soaked in his presence.

He sobered slightly. “Your Mãe is at home.”

I let out a sigh of relief.

“Medusa is with her.”

I froze. Uh oh, am I in trouble?

“I don’t approve,” he told me sternly. “She is a monster and can seriously harm you and
your mother.”

I froze.

Oh. Oh he just did not.

I straightened, lifted my chin high and stared at him defiantly.

“But you did the right thing,” he huffed out, amusement back in his eyes.

My mouth gaped in shock. Did he just...?

Pai raised an eyebrow.

Oh he just did. I can see where Persassy inherited his ways from.

A faint smile played on his lips. "Obedience does not come naturally to you, does it?"

“Nope.” I popped the ‘p’ with a grin.

"I must take some blame for that, I suppose. The sea does not like to be restrained."

I was fully beaming at that. The famous line, said to me!

There was a pause, during which Pai drank in my features with a sad glint in his eye.

"Your mother is a queen among women," Poseidon said wistfully. "I had not met such a
mortal woman in a thousand years. Still... I am sorry you were born, child. I have brought
you a hero's fate, and a hero's fate is never happy. It is never anything but tragic."

I grabbed his hands. “I’m glad to have lived anyways, tragedy or not.”

It was so sweet, I could almost mistake it for a lie.

It isn’t, and I’m surprised it isn’t.

He lowered his head to give me a soft kiss on the forehead before straightening. “Go on
princesa, your fellow heroes await you.”

I was five steps away when he called, "Ophelia."

I never understood, why is it that he calls me Ophelia and not Persephone.

I turned.

Perhaps, it’s because he’s family and he knows the hidden me.

There was a different light in his eyes, a fiery kind of pride. "You did well, Ophelia. Whatever
else you do, know that you are mine. You are a true daughter of the Sea God."
 I did the only thing I could think of.

I smiled.

As I walked back through the city of the gods, conversations stopped. The muses paused their
concert. People and satyrs and naiads all turned toward me, their faces filled with respect
and gratitude, and as I passed, they knelt, as if I were some kind of hero.

I’ve never felt like any kind of hero.

Just a desperate little girl trying to stop the world from falling apart all on her own.

Chapter End Notes

Raven: Y'all would never believe how much arguing went into the reactions and actions
of some of these characters.

Izzy: My dudes, it’s super late for us to be finishing this chapter, we got into quite a few
arguments over the actions, and this is like,,, 2k words longer than usual. If I see any of
you complaining in the comments, I’m zero patience today.

Raven: So there you go, the approximate 3rd to last chapter of this particular fic.

Izzy: Yep. The climax! Now, everything starts to cool down. Maybe. There might be
more things happening on The Last Day of Summer. Who knows?

Also, after we finish this particular fic, we’ll post the first chapter of the next part so
y’all can subscribe to it, but there’ll probs be a 1-2 month gap in updates cause we have
our final end-of-year exams. Y’know, the ones that’ll get us into University. No biggie,
zero stress.

Raven: Oh holidays, you can’t come fast enough…

 I am an accessory to murder
Chapter Summary

We’ve successfully averted World War Three; Big Three Edition. Now for the important
bit- cleaning up.

Chapter Notes

Trigger Warning for School Shooting, Paedophile, Child Abuse, and 2020 events.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

I met up with Luke and Annabeth beside the elevator to go back down to the mortal world.

When I approached they quickly broke up their hushed conversation. I didn’t say anything,
walking into the elevator and holding it open for them instead. As they got in, I pressed the
‘Ground Floor’ button and silently prayed that the trip wouldn’t be full of awkward silence.

‘Bad Romance’ by Lady Gaga began playing.

Okay, that’s it. What the fuck is up with this thing’s taste in music? Also, how does one go
about murdering an elevator?

I promptly began to glare holes at where the song was coming from. Honestly, if I had access
to a decent supply of water-

“You lied,” Luke stated. It wasn’t a question.

“Yes.” No two ways about it.

“Why?” Annabeth piped up.

“Because the truth would have meant your death.”

Luke scoffed, “And it wouldn’t have meant yours either?”

I pinned him with a look. “Yes, but I’ve lived longer than I should have. You’re young, you
deserve to live your life.”

“I’m young?” he asked incredulously.

I raised an eyebrow. “I was older than you are now when I died. I may look like a twelve-
year-old, but I’m closer to 34.”

“What?” Annabeth said disbelievingly. “You’re 34?”

“34 total!” I corrected quickly. “I died at 20, nearly 21. I’m almost 13 now, so age 34 in
total.”

“You were a year older than me?” Luke frowned, baffled.

I pinched my nose. “Yes, and I can assure you that not only was I more mature than you, I’ve
also lived through too much already.”

Annabeth stared at me in sceptically. “How?”

I flicked my eyes to the display that steadily ticked down the number of floors. We weren’t
even halfway down the elevator ride.

“Because, sweet, innocent, Annabeth- I died in a school shooting during a worldwide

plague.”

“What?” Luke seemed stunned. “No way, you’re lying!”

“Nope,” I gave them a grin. “Imagine this: the year is January 2020, you are a young
depressed adult. A new illness starts in China, some sort of superflu. You think, ‘Ah, the
doctors will have this cleared up by the end of the month.’ They don’t. It spreads worldwide
by March. A lot of people brush it off, say it’s just some flu. Spoiler alert: it’s a thousand
times worse. Of course, the death toll starts rising. Worldwide quarantine by May. Some
countries cope better than others. In the USA though, where I was, nobody actually did
anything because, ‘it’s against our freedom.’ In a word? Stupid. Move. People are still going
to work, they’re over 100,000 confirmed deaths, and they send you back to school because
‘only 1% of you will die.’ Fucking lovely. But wait! There’s more.”

“Suddenly, but not exactly unexpectedly, some cops cause the death of an unarmed black
man. ‘Black Lives Matter’ movement is back and here with a vengeance. ‘Defund The
Police’ and ‘ACAB’ is everywhere. Millions are rioting and protesting in the streets- It’s like
the 60’s again. Of course, the plague is still going on. This is still only July. The president is
a confirmed pedo and racist; he commits war crimes. He is not impeached. Cops are
monitoring your social media to see if you’re a protester. You live in a surveillance state. You
go back to school, it’s August. One day, a lockdown drill comes on. This is normal, there
hasn’t been a single month in your whole life where you haven’t done at least two of these
drills and seen an actual school shooting happen on TV. You call your family and tell them
you love them, just in case. It’s a real shooter. He enters your classroom and shoots the
students. You bleed out because it wasn’t a fatal shot but nobody comes in until nearly two
hours later. He managed to kill some fifty students.”

They look horrified- pale as the corpses I was surrounded by in that classroom.

The elevator dings and opens.

“And that’s my death. Lovely, wasn’t it?” I stretched my lips into a grin, a mask to plaster on
my face. Then I run.

“Ophelia!”

I could hear them calling after me. I didn’t stop, but I did slow down a bit.

“Ophelia!” Luke grabbed my shoulder.

I struggled to throw him off, his grip not budging an inch. Eventually, I resorted to
scratching.

“Whoa!” He pulled back, but didn’t let me leave. “Sorry, sorry! Ophelia, you can’t just run
off after that.”

“Watch me,” I snarled at him. “My whole life went out the window in one year, Luke. I was
supposed to die and stay dead- I was supposed to be allowed to rest!”

Annabeth answered, her eyes sad. “We’re sorry, we shouldn’t have asked, but you’ve been
lying to us. I’m sorry that you’ve been through all of that, please don’t run away.”

I took in a shaky breath. I fucking hate this life.

“Promise me you won’t tell anyone?” I felt vulnerable, asking them this in a crowded
Manhattan street. “Promise you won’t tell anyone before I’m ready?”

There was hesitation, but Annabeth soldiered ahead.

“I swear on the River Styx that I won’t tell anyone of your secret past life unless you let me
on your own free will.”

Luke gaped at her. She elbowed him.

“I swear on the Styx not to tell anyone of your past life unless you are okay with it,” he
hastily swore.

I tried to smile at them, but judging by Annabeth’s wince, it didn’t come out quite right.

Luke sighed, running a hand through his hair. A sign of stress from him as I’ve learnt in our
time together. “You owe us one, got it?”

I nodded rapidly. “Of course!”

“You still have to answer our questions!” Annabeth said, frowning. “I’m not letting you go
on without telling us more.”

This. I did not like this.

“I want to know about how our lives were just some story,” Luke added.

I winced. “My apartment is a few blocks away. I’ll explain more on the way.”
-

Some things were taken better than others.

Annabeth lit up to find out that she’s loved as a role model in the fandom.

Luke stopped to punch a wall when he found out that he was supposed to die saving
Olympus.

They both nearly started crying when I told them that Thalia could come back, but she joined
the Hunters in the end.

I had to hold back tears when they asked about my past family.

It broke (and healed) all of our hearts to know that any knowledge I have isn’t concrete, that
it could all change now that ‘Fate’ doesn’t have a stranglehold.

It’s just us now.

By the time we arrived at my apartment, suspicion had lessened, and trust had grown.

Maybe this family won’t break.

I stopped them at the steps to the apartment.

“Right, so, there’s one last lie to clear up.” I itched my arm nervously.

Luke gave me a look.

“IDidn’tKillMedusa!” I breathed out in a rush.

“What?” Annabeth shrieked.

My hands quickly flew up in a surrender. “She was just bitter and alone and I pitied her and
so I told her I'd welcome her home and she agreed and swore not to kill me and now she’s
probably upstairs!”

Luke’s mouth opened and closed a few times wordlessly before just letting his head fall into
his hands.

“Why did I even bother?” he finally managed to groan out.

Annabeth, despite looking very disapproving of my actions, giggled at him.

“Sorry,” I apologised.

“So Medusa, killer of demi-gods and men, is in your apartment right now?”

“That’s what Pai said, I’m not sure,” I admitted.

Annabeth sighed, “Great.”

“You can stay down here?” I offered.

“Nice try.” Luke grabbed me by the scruff. “Let’s go.”

I led them into the apartment.

And got promptly greeted by the sight of a bunch of cops arresting Gabe’s poker circle while
Mãe and Medusa watched, drinking… Coffee? With marshmallows?

I quietly ‘eeped’ and ducked backwards, pulling my friends with me.

“What the fuck?” Annabeth whispered.

I bounced on the balls of my feet, struggling with my laughter. “They’re finally getting
fucking arrested!”

“For what?” Luke hissed.

“Probably paedophilia and tax evasion. Maybe some other stuff too.” I held back the urge to
deck Eddie in the jaw, just in case this was the last time I ever saw him.

“Excuse me?” Luke’s voice rose several pitches in shock. “You know them? What- I’ll kill
them!” he snarled.

“No!” Annabeth and I quickly grabbed him and hid, watching as the cops led them all
outside, leaving just my Mãe and Medusa at the door.

“Okay, now you can. Just don’t get caught,” I offered Luke to Annabeth’s vocal disapproval.

Then I was running full speed at my Mãe to tackle her in a hug.

Mãe, used to my antics, swiftly handed her coffee mug to Medusa and swept me up into a
tight embrace.

"Ophelia! Ay, graças a deuses. Oh, my baby." (Thank the gods)

She crushed the air right out of me. We stood in the hallway as she cried and ran her hands
through my hair. We were both shaking with relief.

Medusa silently slipped away into the apartment. After a beat, Luke and Annabeth tip-toed
past our hugging to join Medusa. I was quietly thankful.

We re-entered our home a few minutes later.

As expected, Luke and Annabeth were glaring suspiciously at Medusa who was sitting
primly on the couch, uncaring of their stares.

The apartment was cleaner than I could ever remember. There were no beer bottles or chips
strewn on the floor, no blaring ESPN on the TV, no smell. Just a pristine home, smelling of
peppermints, with a statue of Smelly Gabe in the corner.

Wait.

“You turned him into stone!” I exclaimed happily. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

I caught Medusa in an unexpected hug.

“It’s quite alright, child,” she said, a bit off-balance, “He deserved it.”

“She arrived at the right time,” Mãe explained. “Gabe had hit me, she helped patch me up.”
She gave Medusa a soft smile then turned back to me. “Good job darling, you were right on
helping her.”

I gave a cheeky grin. “As you say.”

Mãe ruffled my hair. “How about you introduce me to your friends while I get us some
sandwiches? I’m sure you all are hungry.”

“Thank you, Ma’am.” Luke nodded with respect.

“Don’t thank me dearie.” She waved him off. “So what’s your story?”

There may or may not have been a chinelo thrown at me. (Jandal)

Mãe was incensed that I drew the attention of the gods in the Waterland park, yelling in a
mixture of Portuguese and Spanish about how she raised me better than to do something so
stupid. I ducked the chinelo and had to run away from her when she grabbed a second one,
trying to (uselessly) defend my stupidity.

She eventually calmed down and started to cry into my hair again, but it’s better than being
chased by a Jackson armed with a chinelo.

Mãe was thrilled to hear that I had found friends in Annabeth and Luke, offhandedly
mentioning that she’s never seen me have any friends near my age to Annabeth. In the
background, Medusa hid a smile as I visibly cringed. She then told Luke about how she was
his age when she had me, how funny is that? I turned a blind-eye to Luke’s quiet anger on my
Mãe’s behalf as well as Medusa’s double-take followed by some muttering about how much
she hates my Pai.

This is fine. The world wasn’t ending yet. We’re good.

We told our story through bites of blue cookies and fortifying sips of hot chocolate. I made
sure not to bring up the Fates or my past life, and my companions followed the cue with
some side-eyeing. Hey, you saw her react to the Waterland incident, she’d actually kill me if
she found out about the Fates cursing me.
 I still don’t get it. What did they actually curse me with? Shouldn’t they be too busy trying to
regain some semblance of control over Fate?

Medusa was quiet the whole time, more watching than reacting, but I could see the warmth in
her eyes.

Mãe told us that we are going to stay the night, and in the morning she’ll call a taxi for us.
She ushered Luke and Annabeth into one of the now-unused rooms and told them to help
themselves to the bathroom, promising to bring some fruit over later since it was a bit early.

I started washing the dishes while she dried them when I finished. It was nice- not having to
worry about Gabe.

“So, are you going back to Camp?” she asked me.

“Yeah…” I spoke softly. “Best for me to finish the summer there.”

“And will you come home?”

“To you?” I looked up at her, expression genuine. “Always.”

She gave me a kiss on my forehead. “Just for the summer?”

“Just for the summer.”

“Te amo,” she told me.

“También te amo,” I chimed back.

All was right in the world.

Chapter End Notes

Izzy: This is a bit more ‘telling’ over ‘showing’ than usual, but I’m a bit stiff on writing
today and could barely make it to 2k words.

Raven: Same. I dunno, something in the air? I just can’t muster up much energy right
now. Well, the chapter’s out, so there’s that.

Izzy: lol yeah, I had a very productive weekend but that left me with no energy for this
fic. The good thing with co-authoring is that if one can’t finish something, the other can.
I wanted to write ahead, but apparently that’s not happening.

Raven: I hereby dub thee ‘Lazy Syndrome’. Or something. Man, even my humour’s
tired. :I
Izzy: you literally had the chance to say ‘Lazy Izzy’ and rhyme but you missed it. Lmao,
we that tired.

Raven: :I
 The Last Day of Summer; Reprise
Chapter Summary

What do you do on the last day of summer, when the quest is over and your friends are
going? What do you do?

Chapter Notes

Trigger Warning for discussions of Mental Health

See the end of the chapter for more notes

We were welcomed back at camp as heroes.

The mere notion tasted so bitter in my mouth that I hid at the bottom of the lake while Luke
and Annabeth wore laurel crowns, got a feast in their honour, and burnt their shrouds. It
didn’t feel right, being called a hero. I did too little and too much in all the wrong places and
hurt far too many people.

I was barely able to greet Nico and Bianca when I saw them- just more reminders that I led
them out of the frying pan and into the fire.

I’m pretty sure Luke and Annabeth would have interfered if they thought that I shouldn’t.
The truth is that Luke hated being called a hero just as much as I did and one of the fakest
smiles in the world was displayed when Chiron greeted us on the hill. Annabeth was still
young enough to enjoy it, but the frown that snuck its way onto her face occasionally said
that she was thinking twice about all the festivities.

By the time I left the lake, it was night-time. Artemis and her chariot made her nightly
journey as per usual, and I gave a half-hearted wave on my way back to Cabin Three.
Without being caught, of course, I wasn’t in the mood for potential shit-fests right now.

I sighed, slumping on the door.

“Well, Pai, I have to say: I really don’t like being a hero,” I told the empty air, picking myself
up. “Why can’t I be a side character? They don’t get strong-armed their entire lives by so
many people. If I was lucky, I might’ve even gotten a character development arc.”

I didn’t bother with a shower. Shucking off my jeans and shirt, I wasted no time crawling into
bed in just my hoodie and some shorts.
My teddy bear was just where I left him, sitting calmly on my bed in the empty cabin.

Fucking hell, story of my life, mood.

I flopped beside him, grabbed him and held him close. He’s a grounding point- I haven’t
gotten this much comfort from Ursinho in years.

My sleep was both perfect and restless, but somehow, it was warm.

I hate the crusty feeling that somehow builds up when you sleep. Urgh. I’m awake! And
crusty, and wishing to never crawl out of bed. Ever.

I cuddled Ursinho. At least he understands me.

“And I’m not your protagonist, I’m not even my own,” I whispered to him.

“I don't know anything, I don't even know what I don't know,

And if you look outside you’ll see disintegrating trees,
The artificial way the sunlight bounces off the waxy leaves.”

“That’s a cool song.”

I sat up so quickly I could feel the way adrenaline got my heart pumping. Riptide, sharp as
ever, held pointed towards the voice.

There, standing in the doorway, was Nico and Bianca.

I relaxed, letting Riptide turn back into its new earring form. I swear, how did Canon Percy
make it stay still?.

“Don’t startle me like that,” I grumbled at them.

They took it as an invitation to just walk right in.

“You look terrible,” Bianca greeted. She sat on my bed beside me. “Have you even eaten
since you got back?”

“No.”

She said seriously, “You should. Let me,” and stood up.

“Wha- Bianca, don’t-” I tried to protest, but Nico stopped me with far too resigned eyes.

“Let her fuss. Trust me, it’s better than her yelling at you afterwards.”

I groaned, letting myself fall backwards on my bed.

I was hungry, and I haven’t eaten in quite a while.

Nico climbed onto my bed, his tiny (I’m fully aware that we’re the same height) form coming
to lay next to me. Bianca was puttering in the small kitchenette that my cabin contained. That
being said, why does my cabin have a mini-fridge and stove? Cabin Eleven’s mini-fridge was
definitely stolen, but mine wasn’t? Bianca began muttering to herself about the ingredients
the cupboards had.

“How was your quest?” Nico asked, “Did you do anything terribly heroic?”

“No. I gave back the missing symbols of power and came back,” I replied flatly.

I love Nico, I really, really do. The youngest Di Angelo before puberty hits is the ultimate
smol bean, but right now? I do not have the energy to deal with him.

“You saved us,” he pointed out.

“You’d have left the casino anyways, I was just speeding it up.”

“Bianca wants to go visit papá.”

“What?” I yelped, suddenly more invested in this conversation.

Nico gave me an innocent smile that I wasn’t buying for one second.

“Bianca wants to go visit papá.”

“Why?”

“Because,” Bianca said from where she was pulling out a pan. Where did that come from?
“Papá should know that we’re free and aware.”

I went to open my mouth, but Nico beat me to it.

“We aren’t going to tell him about you. Bianca decided to say that she figured it out when
one of the guests of the hotel spoke about the twenty-first century and we left by ourselves,
coming to Camp because mamma mentioned it once.”

There are so many ways that this could go wrong.

“When are you going?” I asked instead.

“Last day of summer,” Bianca answered. “We’ll get a taxi to LA, find papá there.”

I shook my head. “There’s an entrance to the underworld in Central Park, available to only
Hades’ kids. My Mãe can give you a ride.”

“Thank you,” she said primly. “That will be lovely.”

It’s easy to remember that Bianca is an older sister raised in the 40’s- her mannerisms and
hovering protection of Nico are obvious if you know about it. She’s the perfect progeny of a
misogynistic society, absent parents, eldest daughter energy, and fear from growing up in a
fascist state. I’m going to ruin all that ASAP.

“So…” Nico drawled out, “If you’re a daughter of Poseidon, can you surf very well?”

Oh boy.

Nico was pacified from his incessant questioning when Bianca laid out a fancy indoor picnic;
a spread of bread, cheeses and some cooked meats.

There was tea in nice cups and silver cutlery, making me feel like I was more Alice in
Wonderland than Ophelia in Hell.

Brunch was lovely and afterwards, Bianca made me promise to do this with them more often.

I agreed to a family Sunday brunch. At least we’re actually cousins, not thrice removed or
something.

… Shit, I really need to learn my lesson on ‘family’ and ‘keeping secrets’. Well… I sneaked a
glance at the siblings. There’s no time like the present, and the only into Cabin Three all the
time are those that I trust.

I cleared my throat. “So, I’ve got something to confess.”

Bianca raised an eyebrow. “Really,” she deadpanned.

“Does it have anything to do with how you know way more than you should?” Nico piped
up. “That’s what my sister says.”

“Yeah, actually.” I made myself comfortable while muttering a quick prayer to Pai. If there
ever were times for divine privacy, this would be one of them.

“So, the reason I know way more than I should is that I’ve lived a past life in another world
where this world is a story, and despite there being differences between the story I know and
this world, it’s similar enough that my knowledge can be used and applied to great effect. For
example, I knew you guys existed, when I really, really shouldn’t have.”

Cue the thunder and me distinctly uncursed.

They gaped.

“Swear on the River Styx you two won’t communicate everything I just said to anyone
without my permission?” I asked hopefully. “I don’t want to be killed you see, and you guys
swearing would mean a lot.”

Surprisingly, Nico was the first to snap out of it and level me with a glare. I would call it
adorable, except this was the Son of Hades we’re talking about and I’d bet that if we were
anywhere but Cabin Three, the earth would’ve started cracking. But why would he be
mad…?
“You got my sister and I out. Why.”

Right. Never underestimate sibling over-protectiveness apparently.

“Because the two of you deserved to know what was going on, and you deserved to have all
the facts and make your own decision for once,” I replied evenly. “I swear on the River
Styx.”

There was a tense minute where the Di Angelo siblings communicated with gestures, more
Italian than I would’ve liked and facial movements, but they seemed to be amiable to the
bomb I just dropped on them. They also haven’t run away screaming yet, so I’ll take it.

Then, in eerie synchrony, they chorused, “We swear on the River Styx by your terms.”

More thunder sealed the oath.

I nodded, relieved there won’t be a repeat on scolding regarding my tendency to withhold

important secrets. So what’s a good way to not keep talking about this…

“Say, have I ever told you guys about blue food?”

Nico immediately perked up. “No, what’s that?”

I got a letter from home. It was labelled, ‘From Mãe e Tia Em.’

Apparently, they sold her first life-size concrete sculpture, entitled The Poker Player, to a
collector, through an art gallery in Soho. She'd gotten so much money for it, she'd put a
deposit down on a new apartment and made a payment on her first semester's tuition at NYU.
The Soho gallery was clamouring for more of her work, which they called "a huge step
forward in super-ugly neorealism."

I squealed so loud and fell off my table when I read that at lunch that I drew the eye of every
other camper in the amphitheatre. My excited yell of “She killed him!” is apparently NOT a
good explanation in the eyes of Chiron, who pulled me aside for a talk.

He also pulled Luke aside when he replied to my yell with, “Good for her!”

Our lecture in not finding joy in the deaths of bad people was so worth it just to see
Annabeth’s face-palm and Mr D shaking his head and mouthing, ‘He’s wrong’ behind
Chiron’s back when he was also supposed to be chiding us.

Drew wasn’t upset when I apologised to her for losing her gift of a scarf and jacket on the
quest.

She patted my cheek, said, “Unfortunately, that happens on quests,” and asked if I was
planning on growing out my hair.
My baffled answer of “No?” led to a makeover.

I left the Aphrodite Cabin that afternoon with my curly black locks cut a little past shoulder
length, the front two strands dyed bleach blonde.

Yeah, I’m a TikTok, gen z, alt girl at heart. I don’t care, I love it!

Drew questioned me if I truly wanted it, but agreed that it suited me once we were done.

“It’s not in fashion, but it looks really good,” she mused. “Maybe I should do something
similar to mine?”

“You’d look great with the left half of your hair dyed pink and your right eyebrow dyed too,”
I told her. “Maybe even an eyebrow slit too?”

She blinked.

“Isn’t that a bit… punk?” she asked tentatively, “People say punk isn’t beautiful.”

“Punk is about doing what makes you happy. Look at my new hairstyle, it’s punk, are you
saying it isn’t beautiful?”

“No!” she quickly protested. “But… Mother is always the most fashionable with the latest
trends.”

“Your mother appears to everyone differently. Sure, she might appear ‘trendy’ to some
people, but to others, she looks like what they think is beautiful. If you think something is
beautiful and it makes you happy, go for it,” I encouraged.

She lit up after that, asking me to help her dye her hair then and there.

Silena came in when we were finishing off.

“Wow,” she gaped. “This is… new.”

“Do you like it?” Drew asked, giving a twirl in her new e-girl skirt. “I love it so much! Look!
I’ve got chains!”

Silena started beaming when she saw how happy her little sister was. “Yeah, I love it. You
look really pretty in fishnets!”

Drew was grinning ear-to-ear for the rest of the day.

Kassandri pulled me aside.

“So, like, I heard that you know some pretty good pranks,” she murmured as her opening
line. “Travis and Conner have been annoying me, can you help?”

“Well…” I tried to weasel my way out.

She seemed to have anticipated this. “In return, I’ll get you some new sewing supplies. Luke
mentioned that you like to embroider.”

I crumpled. I love embroidery and cross-stitching too much not to take her offer. It’s not like I
could actually do it often back when Gabe was alive, ya know?

So I’ll admit, hiding twenty speakers in the Hermes’ cabin was pretty funny.

Wiring them all to play ‘What’s new, Pussycat?’ on loop thirty minutes after curfew was
funnier.

Throwing in one ‘It’s Not Unusual’ after seven plays had me stuffing my fist into my mouth
to keep myself from howling.

Hearing Luke’s cry of frustration when Tom Jones began to sing for the ninth time all the
way from my cabin was the funniest fucking thing I’ve ever done.

Even better than all that?

We didn’t get caught.

On the Fourth of July, the whole camp gathered at the beach for a fireworks display by Cabin
Nine. Being Hephaestus's kids, they weren't going to settle for a few lame red-white-and-blue
explosions. They'd anchored a barge offshore and loaded it with rockets the size of Patriot
missiles. According to Annabeth, who'd seen the show before, the blasts would be sequenced
so tightly they'd look like frames of animation across the sky. The finale was supposed to be a
couple of hundred-foot-tall Spartan warriors who would crackle to life above the ocean, fight
a battle, then explode into a million colours.

As Annabeth and I were spreading a picnic blanket, Grover showed up to tell us good-bye.
He was dressed in his usual jeans and T-shirt and sneakers, but in the last few weeks, he'd
started to look older, almost high-school in age. His goatee had gotten thicker. He'd put on
weight. His horns had grown at least an inch, so he now had to wear his rasta cap all the time
to pass as human.

"I'm off," he said. "I just came to say... well, you know."

I knew that he was leaving, I knew this since the beginning, but I still didn’t want him to go
and feel a hole where he used to be.

Annabeth gave him a hug. She told him to keep his fake feet on.

I asked him where he was going to search first.

"Kind of a secret," he said, looking embarrassed. "I wish you could come with me, guys, but
humans and Pan ..."

"We understand," Annabeth soothed. "You got enough tin cans for the trip?"
"Yeah."

"And you remembered your reed pipes?"

"Jeez, Annabeth," he grumbled. "You're like an old mama goat."

But he didn't really sound annoyed.

He gripped his walking stick and slung a backpack over his shoulder. He looked like any
hitchhiker you might see on an American highway- nothing like the little runty boy I used to
defend from bullies at Yancy Academy.

"Well," he said, "wish me luck."

He gave Annabeth another hug. He clapped me on the shoulder, then headed back through
the dunes.

Fireworks exploded to life overhead: Hercules killing the Nemean lion, Artemis chasing the
boar, George Washington (who, by the way, was a son of Athena) crossing the Delaware.

Bianca and Nico arrived, carrying a picnic basket full of delicious snacks.

Bianca, it turns out, was a great cook. Maybe it was all that Italian and Greek blood, but her
moussaka is to die for. She’d been making good use of my cabin’s kitchenette (It’s
confirmed, only mine, Demeter’s, Apollo’s and Athena’s cabins had them. I think it’s because
they’re the only gods who trust their kids not to burn their cabin down), and I joined her in
her baking endeavours.

In fact, my croissants are in the picnic basket she’s carrying right now.

“Thanks, priminha!” I smiled, taking the basket from her and helping lay it out.

“Nico is taller than you,” she noticed.

I’m unfortunately a month and 20 years older than her, so she can’t call me out on my bullshit
there.

“I’ll get a growth spurt soon!” I replied, mock-offended.

“Yeah, right.” A voice came from above us.

Luke sat down on the blanket, looping an arm around Annabeth. “You’re tiny, how’re you
ever going to grow?”

I flushed. What is this? Attack Ophelia day?

“I was 5’6 last time around!” I snapped. “Give me a break, it’s not my choice.”

They all laughed, even Bianca was hiding a giggle behind her hand.

“And how tall were you at this age?” Nico asked, innocently curious.
“... 5’3.”

“Right,” Luke drawled. “You might grow another 3 inches and go from 4 feet to 5!”

I smacked his arm. “I’m five foot now! I grew an inch during this summer!”

They all just laughed.

I couldn’t hold onto my pout and joined in.

I love this family.

The last night of the summer season came all too quickly.

The campers had one last meal together. We burned part of our dinner for the gods.

At the bonfire, the senior counsellors awarded the end-of-summer beads. I got my own
leather necklace, and when I saw the bead for my first summer, I was glad the firelight
covered my blushing. The design was pitch black, with a sea-green trident shimmering in the
centre.

"The choice was unanimous," Luke announced. "This bead commemorates the first Daughter
of the Sea God at this camp, and the quest she undertook into the darkest part of the
Underworld to stop a war!"

The entire camp got to their feet and cheered. Even Ares's cabin felt obliged to stand.
Athena's cabin steered Annabeth to the front so she could share in the applause. Luke was
unfortunately pushed hard enough to trip and nearly fell on his face when the Hermes’ cabin
tried to help him enjoy the hooting and cheers.

After the bonfire, I stayed behind to speak to Hestia.

“Are you lonely, Tia?”

She smiled softly, still stroking her coals. “Sometimes, but the Hearth is never lacking a
family- they’re just far away.”

I laughed lightly, even though it’s not funny.

If I stared hard enough at the flames, would they keep me warm forever?

“Is there a way I can have the Hearth with me? Even when I’m far away?” I asked her softly.

I was surprised to watch her step out of the flame.

“Does your heart not beat?” She stroked my face, looking suddenly much older than her
usual twelve-year-old form. “You have a flame within you. Believe in that.”

It didn’t feel like it sometimes.

Still, the tears were lighter this time. Not so burdened. Happier.

Tia Hestia didn’t mind, she just sat with me and wiped them away.

The next morning, I found a form letter on my bedside table.

I knew Dionysus must've filled it out, because he stubbornly insisted on getting my name
wrong:

Dear______Pedra Johnson_______ ,

If you intend to stay at Camp Half-Blood year-round, you must inform the Big House by noon
today. If you do not announce your intentions, we will assume you have vacated your cabin
or died a horrible death. Cleaning harpies will begin work at sundown. They will be
authorized to eat any unregistered campers. All personal articles left behind will be
incinerated in the lava pit.

Have a nice day!

Mr. D (Dionysus) Camp Director, Olympian Council #12

The choice was easy.

I handed the form back to Mr D, filled out saying that I’ll be going home for the school year,
within an hour of getting it.

It was the last day of summer and I’m going on one last walk around the grounds.

The campgrounds were mostly deserted, shimmering in the August heat. All the campers
were in their cabins packing up, or running around with brooms and mops, getting ready for a
final inspection. Argus was helping some of the Aphrodite kids haul their Gucci suitcases and
makeup kits over the hill, where the camp's shuttle bus would be waiting to take them to the
airport.

I got to the sword-fighters arena and found that Luke had had the same idea. His gym bag
was plopped at the edge of the stage. He was working solo, whaling on battle dummies with a
sword I'd never seen before. It must've been a regular steel blade, because he was slashing the
dummies' heads right off, stabbing through their straw-stuffed guts. His orange counsellor’s
shirt was dripping with sweat. His expression was so intense, his life might've really been in
danger. I watched, fascinated, as he disembowelled the whole row of dummies, hacking off
limbs and basically reducing them to a pile of straw and armour.

They were only dummies, but I still couldn't help being awed by Luke's skill. My soulmate's
an incredible fighter. It made me wonder, again, how he possibly could have failed at his
quest.
Finally, he saw me and stopped mid-swing. "Ophelia."

“Hey, Luke.” I gave him a crooked grin. “I think the dummies are dead now. What did they
ever do to you?”

He rolled his eyes at my antics.

“You okay?” I asked, dropping my light-hearted visage.

“Yeah.” He waved me off. “I just needed to fight something. How about you join me in the
woods, fight something together?”

A horrible feeling of deja-vu hit me. Wait a second, wasn’t this what-?

"Aw, come on." He rummaged in his gym bag and pulled out a six-pack of Cokes. "Drinks
are on me."

Yeah, just like Canon.

I froze, trying to keep the panic from my voice.

“Luke, can you show me your sword?”

“What?” he asked, confused.

“Please,” my voice was a bit shaky. “Just do it.”

He quickly pulled it out, showing it to me, pointed away from my body.

It’s normal. It’s pure celestial bronze. Still named Backbiter, but it’s the sword he took on the
quest.

The tension left me so quickly that I nearly collapsed. Luke lunged forward to stop me from
slumping on the ground.

He hasn’t betrayed me. He’s still on my side.

“-Ophelia! Ophelia!” Luke was trying to grab my attention.

“Sorry.” I quickly pushed myself away from him. “I think I got a flashback? Anxiety attack?
I don’t know.”

I shook my head, confusedly stimming with my flapping hand.

“Sorry,” I repeated.

He still looked concerned.

“Ophelia, we have to talk about this.”

“What?” A cold pang of fear hit my chest.

“Not a bad talk, just a talk,” he clarified. “Please.”

I reluctantly nodded.

We walked into the woods.

We found a shady spot by the creek where I did border patrol during my first Capture the
Flag game. We sat on a big rock, drank our Cokes, and watched the sunlight in the woods.

“You have PTSD.”

Luke said it so bluntly, I was speechless.

What he said wasn’t a surprise though. My old psychiatrist had basically said as much,
though she diagnosed me with something else because I was too young for PTSD to be
possible and Gabe hadn’t risked being found out during those appointments.

“Yeah,” I muttered. “It’s bad.”

“That’s not the only thing, is it?” His face was serious, piercing deep into my soul in a way
stories described only Soulmate could.

“No. It isn’t,” I confessed.

“How bad is it?”

My nails dug into my thigh.

“Bad enough that dying doesn’t seem that bad. I know that there’s an afterlife now. I know
what come after death.”

I was surprised by his arms coming around me in a hug.

“What do you do to cope?” he asked softly.

“Nothing,” I choked out. A tear slipped out of my eye. “I just push everything down until I
break and cry. If I don’t, well, it’s not like the adults would believe me if I say my problems
come from another life.”

He brushed the tear away.

“You know that’s not healthy,” he said.

“Yeah.”

He was quiet for a few moments, before speaking again.

“You know that we’re here for you, right?” He ran a hand through his hair, “Like, we actually
think of you as family. You can come to us for help.”

“No,” I answered honestly. “Do you?”

“Yes.” He took my hands, leaning in to say it more emphatically. “We are.”

I looked away.

“I think I’m going to go to a therapist,” I admitted to the bubbling water of the creek.

“That’s good,” he replied.

We finished our cokes in silence.

Finally, I spoke up again.

“Remember when I said that in my past life, all this was a book series?”

He frowned. “Yeah?”

“The books were famous, like, Harry Potter famous.”

He squinted at me. “Are you trying to say there were movies about us? Who was my actor?”

“Jake Abel- gods, I simped for him- but the movies were shit.” I waved him off. “I’m trying
to bring up the fact that there was a musical about us.”

His face was hilarious.

“A musical?” he spluttered. “Like, on broadway?”

“Yep,” I giggled with a grin. “It’s called the Lightning Thief Musical and all the songs are
amazing.”

“Why are you bringing this up?”

“Because there’s a song called ‘The Last Day of Summer’ where we sit right here, drink our
cokes, and lament over the injustice that the gods serve us,” I explained. “It was my favourite
song of them all.”

“Yeah?”

“You tried to kill me in it while doing a dramatic antagonist monologue.”

“Oh.”

“A good part of why I don’t take you seriously is that I used to sing along to said dramatic
monologue at full volume. That, and the fact that straight after that scene I know you raised a
child army for Gramps and had an empousa for a girlfriend.”

“What?”

I laughed at his horrified face.

“Face it, you’re Anakin Skywalker.”

The Star Wars prequels had just finished airing, he knows how much of a drama queen I just
called him.

“Do you have a point to this?” he asked. It was dangerously close to a whine.

“What do you do when the quest has ended?

What do you do when the battle's won?
So many questions left unanswered,
So many things still left undone,” I sang softly.

“That’s true,” he agreed. “What do we do?”

I gave him a bright smile.

“Go home.”

There was a pile-up of cars at the top of Half-Blood Hill, all waiting to pick up their
respective child.

I was surprised to hear that Luke was going to College this fall. Well, not really, but the way
he’d decided to go into it surprised me.

He’ll be staying with Annabeth and her family while he begins his first year at San Francisco
State University, doing a double major in Social Work and Child Psychology.

“There are so many children out there suffering, I can help them. Hades, there might even be
a few demi-gods I can help on their way to Camp instead of just being left to the system,” he
said, eyes far away.

“You’ll do great,” I told him with a soft smile. “Trust me, they are so lucky to have you. But
also,” I turned stern, “keep up your swordsmanship and work on mastering the Mist as much
as you can. I don’t want Gramps or some other guy getting to you when Annabeth and I
aren’t around.”

He watched me, amused. “Yes, Ma’am Jackson,” he teased.

I scoffed but couldn’t hide my smile. Mr Chase came over and helped Luke put his bags into
the trunk.

Annabeth freaked out when she found out that I’m also going to University.

“That’s cheating!” she cried. “You’ve done this before!”

I shrugged. “Sure, but that was in a different college, in a different time. ‘Sides, they don’t
know that.”

I’ll be going to NYU to do the same courses I did last time around; English Literature and
Classical Studies. Only this time, I get the mildly awkward situation of having some of my
 classes with my Mãe because we’re doing the same creative writing course.

I gave Annabeth a hug before she climbed into the car.

“Don’t forget to contact me!” she called as they drove away.

I laughed, leaning on Thalia’s tree.

Mãe came to pick up me and the Di Angelo siblings at sunset.

“Have fun?” she asked warmly. “Nice to meet you, Nico, Bianca. I’m your Tia Sally.”

Bianca gave her a shy smile, ushering her brother to greet her too.

She showed them to the car, letting Bianca show Nico how to use a seatbelt.

“Yeah, I had fun.” I leaned into the warmth of her arm around my shoulder as we watched her
fuss. “What’s for dinner?”

“Well, I left Tia Em making spaghetti, that would be finished by now...”

We chatted as we got into the car. I fell asleep to the sound of my Mãe’s voice, the landscape
passing us by as we drove down the road.

~ This world may never be ours,

For our parents rule over the stars,
What do you do on the last day of summer?
So I'll do anything,
I don’t want to hurt anyone,
I may not be a good kid,
A good kid, a good son.

The gods are not on our side,

But neither is any of the world,
But soon you’ll see what I did,
So watch me change this world. ~

Chapter End Notes

Izzy: So… Our country is back on lockdown. It’s for “3 days” but it’s probably going to
go on for longer. I have no idea what the fuck to do now, especially since my exams
were due to start next week until December. Who knows many of them will be
postponed or cancelled? I might as well pre-write some of this.

There will still be another chapter! It’ll be short so we’ll post it either Friday or Sunday,
then the prologue for book 2 will be posted!
Raven: Yeah. Here I was getting all hyped up for mock exams when bam! Community
transmission! Urgh! On the plus side, Izzy and I suddenly have way too much free time.
Yay…
 Epilogue
Chapter Summary

Sometimes, ending a story…

Chapter Notes

Trigger Warning for Discussion of Trauma and Suicidal Thoughts

See the end of the chapter for more notes

We went through three different therapists before we found one that I liked.

I’ve gone to four sessions with Doctor Tamira, slowly giving her a highly edited version of
the truth.

Of course, Mãe had already informed her that some things I say may seem strange and out of
place, but she wanted me to get over my emotional problems first before anything else. Just
because people didn’t believe it doesn’t mean that it wasn’t affecting me.

I was in a school shooting and I think that I should’ve died in it. My mood swings wildly and
I can go from happy to numb in seconds. I hurt people when I get out of control. I blame
myself for everything that goes wrong. My moral compass has slowly diminished over the
years as I learnt to lie and manipulate to protect myself. I was abused by my step-father
growing up. I got kidnapped and torn from my Mãe this summer.

She told me that my empathy may be skewed, but I recognise that I have a problem, and
that’s me getting over the first big hill.

She was proud of me for going through so much and coming out the other end still capable of
trusting and loving people.

For me, it doesn’t ring as the truth, but I might believe her one day.

Until then, I’ll go home to my Mãe and Tia Em, stay in contact with my friends, and hope
that tomorrow will be better.

I’ll heal. Someday.

-
 The strange liquid that covered the floor rippled.

I stood up, eyes scanning the empty distance that stretched as far as the eye can see. Inky
blackness made up the sky, horizon, and present.

I did it. I made it back here on purpose.

A manic grin spread across my face.

“Thalia!” I called. “Thalia!”

A faint sound responded to my calls. I raced towards it.

The liquid didn’t splash or make a single noise as I ran.

“Thalia! Thalia!” I shouted as I approached a figure floating face up in the mystery water.

She startled, standing up.

“Ophelia?” she said in disbelief. “Wha- How?”

I barrelled into her, laughing as I gave her a hug. “I found you again!”

“That you did,” she said dryly. “Why are you here?”

I stepped back, levelling her with my best serious look.

“Well,” I began, heart racing. “I’ve got one hell of a story to tell you, cousin.”

Chapter End Notes

Raven: … is better when it’s a cliffhanger. This is it! The final bit! It! Is! Done!
Wooooooo!

Izzy: Finally! I started this in Lockdown and it ends in a different Lockdown lmao. Also,
I’ve got ‘The Final Countdown’ stuck in my head while writing this.

Raven: Don’t expect anything from us for a bit. Writing a story really burns you out, and
Izzy’s got this entire schedule of stories she needs to update in a timely manner. Poor
her.

Izzy: Thank, Raven. Nah, I love writing my stories. Anyways, we’ll post the prologue to
the next story on Wednesday, but then it’s bye-bye for a month.
 SEQUEL IS UP!
Chapter Summary

Quick update to the series

Hey y'all, Izzy typing!

The next part of the series, 'For Fuck’s Sake, I ain’t drowning in no Sea of Monsters!', is
here! Go check it out!
And please read the Authors' notes at the bottom of the next part!

See y'all there!

End Notes

Izzy: I made this because I got tired of all the 12 year-olds in the fandom making Mary Sue-
ish Fem!Percys and Self-Inserts. Give us an adult who is done with all this being a child and
the 'chosen-one' bullshit and would swear at the gods for their idiocy and bad choices. I may
be projecting but I'm also out of fuck's to give and feel nihilism may be the way to go as a
half-blood.

EDIT 24/5/20: Yo, RavenCarver typing. Izzy asked me to beta, and one thing led to another,
but end result? We’re basically co-authoring the hell outta this fic. This is gonna be great
*cackles happily*

EDIT 31/5/2020: So Izzy's pestering me about replying to you guys's comments, but I
typically leave that to Izzy unless someone specifically asks for me. Just letting you know I
don't ignore you guys. Seriously, I love reading them!

Izzy: I answer any and all comments you leave, am happy to discuss my ideas and plot with
you, and I cherish every kudos you give!
Find me at @IzzyMRDB on all social media (Tumblr, Insta, Snap, Discord) and start a
conversation!

EDIT 30/6/2020: I made a discord server for this fanfic! Check it out:
https://discord.gg/8JwK99a

EDIT 25/07/20: Alright, okay, let's nip this at the bud. For those who don't quite enjoy the
way the Main Character is characterised (or any other existence in this story for that matter),
that is fine. We only ask that you do not complain about it in such a manner that is pointless
or complain about it the sake of complaining. For example, going, 'I don't like it,' is like
asking us to go back and re-write everything. Look at the word count. Would you want to re-
write that much?

Secondly, while we appreciate people defending the authors' decisions with this story (or
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Thirdly, while we're overjoyed that people take time to skim through our writing and suggest
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And lastly, we make no claims that what we're depicting in this is 100% accurate. We do
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Keep in mind we're both 16-year-old teenagers. That's not a lot of endorsement, which is the
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