He had had enough of the absurdly large dog that could not seem to die, and stay dead for longer than a few hours – the maximum it had disappeared for was 3 hours, barely enough time to find a safe place. On another day, the warm Californian – and he was sure this was California – weather would have had brought a sense of tranquillity to his mind. Couple that with the sunset, and the slowly swaying trees, he would have had liked nothing better than to simply bask in the sun's heat. Right now, the sinking sun was a constant reminder that he needed to find shelter.

A growl pulled him from his thoughts, and he swerved to the right, barely dodging the huge beast's fangs and claws.

"Back again?" He groaned, getting tired of the dying-and-coming-back ordeal.

'One more time, I say, one more time. We'll see if you can survive getting flushed into the ocean.'

For a moment, the beast and human circled each other, both pair of eyes glued to the other's body. The giant dog's – 'hellhound' something offered in his mind – body tensed, and it seemed to crouch. He saw it coming from a mile away. Just as the 'hellhound' leapt towards him, his body moved too. Not away from the strike, but straight towards the beast. Proving his agility, he had slipped right underneath the hellhound's belly. Tapping the charm in his hand, he saw the blade that had saved his life countless times before appear in his hand and, wasting no time, he immediately drove the sword into the hellhound's underbelly, penetrating the flesh immediately.

The dog let out a pained whine, collapsing on the ground. In a matter of seconds, the once huge beast had become nothing but a heap golden dust lying on the ground.

He sighed, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

"Stupid monsters, stup-"

He was interrupted by the sound of slow clapping, and before he had even tried finding who it was behind him, he leapt to his feet, dangling the blade in front of him.

In front of him, a tall – almost 7 feet – man leaned against a tree, completely uncaring about the heap of gold dust at his feet. He was powerfully built, and, oddly enough, wore the Canadian military uniform. Upon closer inspection, he could see a larger-than-usual M16 slung across his back.

"Bravo." The man commented, a feral grin on his face. His deep voice had almost made the boy drop to his knees, as if every syllable the man uttered carried the weight of the sky. "You are good with that... accursed blade."

The boy shook himself from his thoughts. "Uh, thanks..." He said, brushing off the dirt from his shoulder.

The man's – if he could be called that – eyes noted the dirt on his clothes, and the torn apart jeans. "That won't do." With a snap of his fingers, the previously ragged clothes started ripping violently, as if an external force was changing their very nature. Soon, the orange shirt had morphed into a rich purple colour, while the jeans had been replaced by more fitting shorts.

"Can't have you making a bad impression." He chuckled, as if he had cracked a joke.

The boy eyed him warily, "Wha– who are you?" He asked, gripping the sword more tightly. Due to the angle the blade was held at, the sunlight glinted off of it, lighting his face in an odd way.

The main narrowed his eyes slightly, frowning.

Suddenly, the previously well-balanced sword felt heavy in his hand, and continued to feel heavier until he dropped it to the ground, the blade hitting a stone with a clang.

"You will get to know soon enough, boy." The man eyed the surrounding warily, as if he was looking for something- or someone.

"Father would be angry." He muttered. Before the boy knew what was going on, the man had closed the gap between them in less than a second, and had tapped his shoulder once, as he picked up the sword. Suddenly, the calm, tranquil atmosphere of the forest he was in vanished, and was replaced by an ever changing landscape. He felt as if his insides were being squeezed and expanded very quickly, as if his body itself was breaking down to reform in another place – which, unbeknownst to him was exactly what was happening. When the world finally stopped moving rapidly, he was no longer standing in the forest. Instead, he was sprawled across the floor of a temple.

"We're here." The man announced, voice booming through the hall, as the younger male resisted the urge to throw up from the nauseating experience.

The boy looked around, for any sign that could indicate where he currently was.

The floor was made of marble, tall columns rose towards the roof which was made of glass. In front of them, there lay a brazier, burning brightly, shining the temple at night-time – which was what it was then, as the moon outside proved. Above the brazier stood strong a huge statue, made of marble, and had accents of gold. The statue depicted a humongous being, a good 5 feet taller than the man that stood beside him. The statue of 12 feet displayed a man wearing ornate, ancient looking armour – Roman, child – wielding a spear that glowed ethereally under the moonlight. Under the statue, the inscription read, "Mars Ultor". The boy whispered the name, and beside him, the man's form flickered, morphing into that of the statue. Gone was the tall yet acceptably large man, he was replaced by a 12 feet tall warrior, something out of a Mythology book.

'Wait...'

"Mars Ultor..." The boy breathed, and received a nod as the confirmation. "God of War..." The question was there, even if it wasn't phrased as one.

The man- nay, deity, smiled. It wasn't a friendly smile, it was one of grim acceptance. The boy felt his hair rising, but he refused to back down, to flinch. He stared at a being with enough power to completely obliterate him from the world straight in the eye. The God's smile widened.

"You must be wondering why you are here." The boy nodded. 'And what the hell the deal is with this world of monsters and Gods.' "At some points, boy, one has to sacrifice a lot, for very little. At some points the fate of the world rests on the shoulders of one being – and it is that being's choice to mould their fate into a blessing, or a curse."

'How is any of this relevant?!' He had wanted to scream, but he held his tongue.

The boy hesitated, before finally asking the questions that had troubled him.

"I-I don't... who am I? How do I know that this isn't some trap? A-and why bring me to this temple?" The boy knew of the Gods, the woman who was close to him at the time he had woken up had explained everything about the Gods, demigods, and monsters. She had told him about his abilities and... the sword.

Mars stared at him. His eyes caught fire, and suddenly, the boy felt as if his knees were weak – too weak to hold his weight.

"You would do well not to question me. As for who you are..." Mars hesitated, something the boy guessed was not a usual occurrence. Looking at him straight in the eye, he began, "Your name is Augustus-"

The name felt wrong... as if his subconscious recognized that he was someone else.

"-the son of my Uncle. There are bigger things in play here... bigger than yourself or myself. You have a choice to make, child. You can either stay ignorant of who you are, of what you are destined to do, seek the sea, live a long life underwater..." Mars' eyes were piercing, and for a few seconds, Augustus felt as if Mars was seeing right through him. "Or," he began slowly, "You can become a legend. You can become the Saviour of Man, of the world. You choose the former, perhaps you will live out those who hunt you till your last breath, perhaps you will find a wife, settle down, and have kids. It will, however, be at the expense of billions of lives, more than you can count." The deal was tempting, but something – or someone – told him that, in the life Augustus did not remember, that he was not one for laying low, and practically hiding. It went without saying that he was also not the kind of person to let billions die so that he could live a comfortable life. "If you choose the latter, you shall be thrust into a world that does not entirely want you, a world that has many elements that will actively seek to end your existence, a world that is horrifyingly brutal."

Augustus wondered whether Mars wanted him to love a life under the sea, because the latter option was less than appealing.

"But," the word rang through the temple, "With these undoubtedly harsh penalties, you shall have the chance of figuring out your past... of getting to know who you were. If you succeed at the trials that you face, you will have a wife, kids, family. Friends you can rely on... an empire to command and call your own."

A part of Augustus screamed at him to take the former, but a bigger, dominant part of him told him to stand his ground – to fight, to take the latter. The temptation of getting to know who he was – a question he had pursued since the day he had woken up in that rundown hut – was too great to resist. Augustus shakily raised his head, "I... I take the latter."

Mars eyes narrowed.

"Are you sure? This is your last chance to back off."

Mars' words had its intended effect. Augustus was not a fool – you are most definitely not, the voice in his head said. Okay so maybe he was a bit crazy, and he did have a voice that spoke in his head, but what Augustus' subconscious told him was that he was not someone to go down without a fight, that he wasn't someone to accept all that Fate decreed.

'What do you think, voice in my head?'

The voice did not reply. It's silence disturbed the demigod, as it had never before hesitated from offering advice.

"Typical." He muttered under his breath.

"What was that?" Mars looked at him strangely.

Augustus cleared his throat, "The latter. I'm picking the latter. I'm not one to back down, never have been, never will be." The determination was there – whether Augustus knew it or not, he had repeated the words of the man who he was named after.

Mars' eyes once again met his, and there was a ghost of an amused smile on his face.

His heavy hand came down to rest on Augustus' shoulder – the feeling of pride had not gone unnoticed.

"So be it. Augustus, you have much to learn... far more than I shall be able to teach you. For now, you will stay with an accomplice of mine." If Mars didn't know better, he could have sworn the boy frowned. "When the time is right, you shall be trained by myself. I," he enunciated, "I will make you a greater warrior, a greater leader than anyone Rome ever had."

He was tapped once on the shoulder, and again the world exploded in a cacophony of colour, as both Mars and Augustus' bodies reformed in another place.

When Augustus took control of his senses, he realized that he was back in a forest. In front of him lay a house made purely out of wood. It was what Augustus imagined a crazy rich billionaire would make to substitute as a wood mansion. What caught Augustus' attention, however, was the humongous wolf standing in front of them. He had thought that the hellhound he had killed earlier was huge, but the wolf in-front made the hellhound look like a normal sized dog. What truly got him was when the wolf morphed into a lady, with black hair and silver accents.

"Mars, what brings you here?" She inquired. Her gaze rested upon Augustus, and, almost imperceptibly, her eyes widened. "And you bring Destiny's favourite too." Her eyes were a piercing black, and as he looked into them, he saw a history thousands of years old. He saw the rise and fall of Empires, but above all, he saw the true scale of the world. In her eyes shone wisdom rarely found and – if Augustus had to make a guess, this was Lupa, Mother of Rome.

Mars' eyes locked with Lupa's, and for a few minutes Augustus tried figuring out what was happening. After the seventh minute of them entering in something resembling a staring competition, Lupa nodded. He assumed that Mars and Lupa had had a conversation in private, presumably about him. The wolf goddess's eyes met Augustus', glaring at him.

For minutes, both looked intensely into each other's eyes, gauging each other. While Lupa's eyes showed wisdom beyond Man, Augustus' eyes showed a steely determination, a fiery passion for holding out against whatever the world threw at him. That was something Lupa could respect, and she did.

Finally, Lupa broke the gaze, and nodded towards Mars. "He will do well." Lupa morphed into her wolf form a second later, and trotted towards the house. She did not look back.

Augustus knew a calling when he saw one, and followed the great wolf goddess, eyes warily taking in the shapes in the house. Once they had both gone into what was called the "Wolf House", Mars sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"For Jupiter's sake, I hope you will forgive me, Perseus Jackson." The words were murmured. A steely gaze once again. A woodpecker's call later, the forest was empty, save for the inhabitants of the Wolf House.

A/N: So... this is a little plot bunny that popped into my mind earlier, when I re-read (For the nth time) 'Son of Neptune'. I thought about how Hera/Juno had switched Percy and Jason's positions, and what ramifications it would have. So... imho Hera didn't intend for Percy's memories to come back - or for him to recover them - they just did. Couple that with Mars being Rome's Great Founding Father, and Rome's destined fall if Percy did not succeed, I believe Mars would have had taken a role in morphing Percy into a leader.

So, the character you see before you, 'Augustus', is, obviously, Perseus Jackson. Except, the fundamental difference between the two is that of Roman parentage. I won't spoil too much right now, the next few chapters should clear up who Augustus really is, what he's capable of, and what differentiates him from Percy.

P.S: Story is going to be following somewhat of a "Current Time", "Flashback Chapter", "Current Time"... and so on kind of flow. The one you see before you is not current time, it's a flashback chapter. Next chapter should come back to the beginning of Son of Neptune, where the beginning will, relatively, follow the same flow as canon. After that? Major divergence from canon.