Six years later…

Kronos cradled the little bottle of nail polish to remind himself of good times. Except, of course, there was nothing good in Tartarus when the air was bad for the complexion and he broke a nail. A nail, goddamnit! Kronos would've thrown a pity party except there was no Weight Watchers ice cream and Kelly Clarkson records. Kronos played with his hair, still in the curlers, and tried to think of all the good things of his past life.

At least I'm legally blonde, now, he thought sadly. In the dark abyss fast footsteps came towards him. "Yoo hoo, Kronos, babycakes, look what I found out!" Hyperion came strutting and sat beside Kronos. "Mommy found a way to rescue us from this hellhole. Gaea stole the Doors of Death and your grandkids went to Greece. It's all so amazing!"

It sure was.

The two little titanic girls skipped past Persephone and her gardens, stopping only to pick up a few pansies. "God, we should've gotten that sandblaster for her on Mother's Day!" Kronos said, "but I don't see the point in getting a smooth face when she's, like, half-rock or something." Then they started talking about how they were going to live their new lives.

"I think I'm gonna use the Mist to make me into a multi billionaire, then not only could I get Blair Waldorf, I get designer shoes! It is all so amazing!" Hyperion, however, decided otherwise. "I'm gonna become a hot-dog vendor," he said pointedly despite the whining of Kronos on colon cancer and stretch marks.

They ran straight into a Gothic kid that stabbed Hyperion. He screamed and turned into dust and Kronos screamed too, pulled up his skirts and pummeled straight into an odd-looking river singing We Are Young to calm his nerves.

Minutes later...

Kronos washed up on a Gothic shore, coughing. "Am I in Hell? Am I? I'm sorry for ditching you when you died, Hyperion! I'm sorry!" Kronos started blubbering and crying about America's Got Talent auditions and Greek yogurt just as footsteps approached him.

"Is that-?"

"Oh, Gods..."

He's crying? Ha!"

Clearly not Annabeth and Percy, they'd have worse to say, he thought miserably. "What are you guys here for? My curlers? Well, shoo." He turned around to see two little nymphs. They burst out laughing, and so did everyone else in the Fields of Asphodel EZ Death line.

Kronos picked up his tote bag, a disgraceful Louis Vuitton bag from 2011. A blush crept to his cheeks, but something told him the bag was not what they were laughing at. The tears mingled with the cheap mascara, and Kronos bolted out the Underworld.

AT THE STREETS OF NEW YORK...

Through snuffles, lots of honks, and aimless running, Kronos somehow made it to Medusa's lair. And once he made it there, he was riddled with scars and was barely dressed, for the dress was so tattered. His face was covered in black streaks. His army was gone, and so was all his girl stuff- no, life essentials.

In a nutshell, he was miserable, and Rhea relished that. She sent him hate mail, blocked him on Facebook after his post on causing doomsday back six years the typical UPS guy was here. Even more miserable, Kronos ignored the doorbell and picked up a self-help book.

And then the angry UPS guy broke in. Except it wasn't and angry UPS guy. It was some guy in some suit looking much like Prometheus, minus the scars. A placid smile played on his lips, and he placed a white parcel on Medusa's doormat.

He left.

Kronos picked it up and ripped frantically at it. In that package was a small package. And in that small package was another one. And another one. He wasn't any good at anger management and mistook a steroid for a Smartie- come one, he was only 3,225 years old at the time!- so this Russian nesting doll packaging was annoying him.

Ah, he thought. Five minutes later I reach the package. Better be good. But it wasn't. In fact, it was an eviction notice. It read:

To The Crazy, Cocaine-Driven Tenants:

You have hereby failed to pay the rent and there were several reports the past years that there was suspicious activity and other whatnot. The FBI will come for investigation in June 20th, 2018, 4:00 pm. Listen and obey, now housebroken jerk!

From,

Charles and Young Realty.

Kronos' luck was getting better and better. An eviction notice comes in a Christmas-in-July package. Great. At least he has plenty of time to go to Yoga class and relax. I mean, it 3:59 and- wait, 3:59? The clock turned 4:00 and Kronos packed a NutriGrain for the following doom.

Kronos planned to hide through the whole thing with the FBI stuff in his dumb titan mind. Until he got inspired from the Woman in Black and decided to jump out the window.

And he did...

On a big, blue, puffy mattress with three white letters...

FBI.