Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or settings in this fanfiction. Some of them I have created, while most are either the work of Rick Riordan, or other fans, whose permission I have obtained for use of their characters. Again, all Percy Jackson characters and settings go to R.R.

Prologue

"Only the dead have seen the end to war," - Plato

Terror. That was how Lucius felt when he ran into battle. His friends stood beside him, while his enemies stood against him. Even with his friends fighting with him he still felt terror. Every step against the earth felt like dragging a mountain. He was a son of Mars, Rome's proud god of war. But even if the fate of the world was depending on his part, deep down, he was scared.

What if we lose?

What if we suffer heavy losses?

What if I won't make it out alive?

These questions riddled his mind as he marched in formation with the Second Cohort. His half-brother lead the battalion. Lucius wondered if he felt the same way. Then again, Marcus was a gladiator when he wasn't a soldier. But then again, so was Lucius.

The battlefield expanded before him as he advanced closer and closer to his enemy. This was where they would put an end to Mother Earth and the Giants once and for all. The Legion had mobilized, moving forward as a unit. The Greeks, his friends, New Rome's allies in this fight, kept with their pace. Every demigod had taken up arm against this threat. If they were going down, they would all go down. There was no escape, no second chances. Fight or die. This was the creed he trained under for the last year and a half. But the son of Mars didn't feel ready.

He collided with monsters of the varying sorts, some he had seen, and some he had wished he had never seen. Unlike their enemy, the demigod was not designed to become a killing machine, bent on only the destruction of any and all opposition. The monsters, however, were merciless, breaking through lines and even eating half-bloods in the middle of attacks. Terror spread through the lines as they fended off monster after monster.

The power their enemy wielded grew stronger, their tactics and their malice were matched only by their lethal minions and leaders. Facing a Giant was difficult, defeating one even harder. And then there were the revived mortals who pledged their allegiances to Terra. Lucius had dealt with one of them personally, saving New Rome. But now he was a soldier, not a hero. The heroes he was taught as a demigod always ended up dying. Lucius did not want to die.

The son of Mars fought bitterly, fighting to keep everyone else alive, fighting to keep himself alive. Their fight was for survival. No amount of training had prepared him for Tartarus. No yield of skill, wit, or strength would have been able to prepare for what war really meant. Everyone around him died. The screaming and shouting were almost enough for him to fall back, to run away. But he couldn't. There were no retreats. It was victory or death. They wagered the world just to live it another day. Most would not live to see the outcome.

Death was not a new concept to Lucius. He had experienced the murder of his half-sister and her father. He had been witness to the death of a close friend. He had been the cause of death for dozens. But the aura in this battlefield was an enemy on its own. Even the strongest of demigods were either shell-shocked or caught in shock as they were battered against and battered against foe.

But even in the chaos and madness, there was an end. Before they were overpowered, the call was made. The sounds of victory rallied through end to end. Monsters of all shapes and sizes routed, whilst the victorious demigods cheered throwing helmets, shields, and other pieces of armor up into the air in celebration. The wearing years of waging war with the Earth had finally come to an end. No longer would the Giants threaten their future. Lucius' last fight was fought.

Or so he thought.