A/N: Hi guys! This is my first PJO fanfic so I hope you like ;D

Please review! I'd love some constructive criticism. I know I tend to jump around a bit and rush things. Bear with me! Thank you so much for reading!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize~

Prologue

My name is Lindsey Fox. I prefer Fox, but you can call me Lindsey if you have a death wish.

You've probably heard of me sometime throughout your short and insignificant life, even if it was just in a fleeting conversation with an enemy.

I'm an Assassin of Chaos. I know what you're probably thinking: Assassin of Chaos? Ha, as if! But it's true. Everything you heard about us is true. Mostly. I'm pretty sure there's only three of us and none of us have black wings or red eyes.

Ryan Carter was the first of us. He isn't as famous as Percy or I, but he's still there. I think he prefers it that way. Ryan wasn't born a demigod. He wasn't born as anyone special. Instead, he was blessed by the Fates.

Yes, yes. You're probably thinking: The Fates?

The Fates are real. Just like every piece of Greek mythology out there. The gods are alive. Demigods exist. Crazy, partying centaurs gallop through uninhabited lands. But where there are good things, bad things must exist. Monsters roam the lands, searching for delectable demigod flesh to sink their teeth into.

Anyway, Ryan was blessed with the power of fire. Not the happy bonfire kind or the camping kind. He can shoot flames out of his fingertips. I'm pretty sure he can let smoke (instead of the classic steam) out of his ears, but he would never show me.

The second assassin to come along was me: Fox. I was born in the 1900s, where I knew I would never fit in. All my parents cared about was raising me as a proper house wife and getting me a nice, rich husband. That didn't work out.

I wasn't born anything special. I was just supposed to grow old, get married, have children, then die. If you can tell, I didn't want that. I wanted to run away with my twin, Lily. I wanted to show up all the stupid prejudiced people.

A god must have known how I'd turn up because I was blessed as a baby. I could control the winds. Lily could manipulate light and shadows to create images.

Later in our mortal lives, the god decided to make an extravagant appearance. He had spoken with the Fates, who told him to either kill me or my sister. The god sent his minions, the Furies, to finish one of us off.

If you hadn't guessed, that was Hades, Lord of the Underworld.

Percy was last. I'm sure everyone has heard of Percy Jackson: savior of Olympus. He never said what exactly happened, but he let enough slip. His friends and family had turned their backs on him, save a few. He was struggling with what I thought was PTSD: post-traumatic stress disorder. Who wouldn't? He had just come out of a war.

Percy had left his camp with me.

The three of us became a dysfunctional family. It didn't matter though, because we loved each other just the same.

And then, the next Great Prophecy started.