"It's good to be bad, but it's better to be neither."
Those were the words that the Shades of Gray lived by. An assassin group dedicated to the destruction of evil without the moral guidelines of heroes, they operated outside of the eye of gods and mortals. Only Hades, their patron god, knew of their existence. As a deity who knew that there needed to be some out there who made the cruel and unpopular choices in order to preserve the balance of power, Hades had sponsored the Shades of Gray since their formation in Ancient Sparta. For years the Shades undertook dangerous missions, risking their lives in order to stop malicious monsters and mortals alike. While heroes like Heracles were lauded with praise and raised upon of a pedestal of egoism, the Shades operated in complete anonymity. After the decline of Sparta and the fracturing of the Peloponnesian Empire, the Shades ceased operations until resurfacing in Ancient Rome. They moved with the heart of Civilization, from China to France to Spain to eventually the present day United States. But with a new evil stirring, one member of the Shades finds himself thrust into a quest to save the world, a quest that requires someone who is morally a shade of gray.
Dawn broke over the camp and lifted the shadow of night. If one were to enter this encampment, they would find three rows of tents flanked by trenches, traps, and other defenses. Luxury was nowhere to be found, as each tent carried only a cot for sleeping and small dresser that stored a change of clothing. It is one of these tents that Kurt Moulson awoke.
Kurt had been part of the Shades of Gray since he was twelve years old. He grew up in the suburbs of Vermont. His father and step-mother were good people, but good people do not last long in this world. One day Kurt had arrived home from school to find both his parents murdered. The anguish and despair Kurt felt had sent him into a living coma, conscience but not responsive. Even at the young age of nine, Kurt knew exactly what happened. He had snuck downstairs one evening to hear that his parents were conversing intensely. Kurt's father owned a construction company that operated throughout the entire region of New England. The mob owned the main rival company, and they did not like to have competition. Cops? They could be bribed.
A burning anger began to build in Kurt in the weeks following the murder. Nobody was pursuing justice for his family. What truly seared a hole into him was the audacity of the man responsible for his parents' murders, a scoundrel named Jonathan Brownstone. Brownstone had built his organized crime empire from the heroin trade and had operations up and down the east coast. He made his residence, however, in Vermont's capital, Montpelier. This was common knowledge to many in the snowy neighborhoods of the Green Mountain state, but they were too paralyzed with fear to do anything about it. Kurt changed that.
He disregarded everything but his quest to avenge his parents. For years he tracked and gathered information on Brownstone's illegal activities. Nobody suspects that any type of threat can come from a boy who was not even old enough to be in high school, so Kurt made great progress. The man was careful, but he had one fatal flaw: Brownstone was a man of habit. Whether it was the same routes to ship drugs or his preferred brand of coffee, Brownstone stuck to what he found effective. This could be dangerous.
After years of gathering intel, Kurt had discovered that Brownstone spent every holiday season in a mansion in upstate Vermont. Apparently skiing and organized crime mesh well together. He was vulnerable in this isolated sanctuary of his. The mansion was flanked by mountains, so there was only one way in and one way out. There were no guards, as Brownstone preferred to step away from the role of criminal kingpin for a relaxing vacation. He also believed that it would be impossible for someone to track him to his remote winter residence with a bevy of corrupt law enforcement and criminals under his thumb. That was what would kill him.
Kurt remembered the day with clarity. It was Christmas Day, and the roads were deserted. Empowered by the force of hatred that was raging inside of him, Kurt hitchhiked all the way up to the mountain retreat in pursuit of his parents' killer. His limbs ached. He had broken out in a cold sweat. But he reached his destination, and upon seeing the mansion after climbing up a snowy incline, Kurt pressed on with renewed vigor.
The mansion was a modern structure with a stone driveway and cherry wood color scheme on the exterior. It would have fit in at any ski resort. There was only one car in the driveway. Kurt made his way to the front door, moving quietly as to not alert his target. He reached for his weapon, a Colt .45 that Kurt had stolen from a local museum. The younger you are, the less suspicion you garner. Also, the missing of an antique firearm would not generate the same panic as if it was a modern gun. Kurt unsheathed his pistol from the makeshift holster that he had crafted out of leather belts and approached the front door.
He pressed his ear against the door and listened intently for the sound of movement. Faintly he hear the sound of the television coming from a room near the entrance. Kurt deduced that Brownstone was most likely reclining in a living room and reclining in a comfy chair, tuned out to the horrible crimes had committed. His anger bubbled up inside of him. Kurt knew that he could chase this bastard to Canada, so he decided to make his presence be known, to instill fear into the man that preyed upon the fearful. Running on adrenaline and emotion, Kurt fired a shot into each corner of the door frame, dislodging the drywall that kept it together. He then kicked the door down and searched for his enemy.
The interior of the home was warm and inviting. Kurt stepped into a foyer space with a door on his left and a staircase directly in front of him. His focus, however, immediately went to the right. Brownstone had been startled by the gunshot and was now facing the source of the noise. Tunnel vision kicked in for Kurt as he strode towards Brownstone and raised his pistol. A look of fear passed over the man's face as he realized the danger he was in. It here in the dim light of the fireplace that Kurt caught an up close glimpse of the man who he had hunted for years. Brownstone was about six feet tall and had an average build with a balding head that was dotted by patches of black hair. He was wearing black sweatpants and a gray wool shirt in order to guard against the cold. Soon Kurt was inches from the mob boss.
Brownstone opened his mouth to negotiate, but Kurt cut him off. "Don't bother, there is nothing you can threaten with that will save your pathetic life." Kurt aimed his gun between the eyes of Brownstone. The mobster sobbed. "Please, I have a wife that I've been married to for fifteen years; my daughter can't go fatherless. Don't kill me. I can't leave them behind on this earth." Kurt paused for a moment "Oh so you have a family." Brownstone was on his knees at this point. "Yes I do…please-"
Kurt pulled the trigger and eliminated the criminal that was haunting the East Coast. "Yeah, I did too. And they're not here because of you." Kurt remarked softly.
The cabin had gone silent Kurt made his way to leave when he was interrupted by a man clad in a gray cloak clapping. "Impressive kid, you made your first kill at the age of twelve. And what a kill it was. Of course, my assassins and I had already destroyed his entire operation while he was hiding up here cut off from the world. Still though, you'll make a fine recruit." Kurt had little time to process this intrusion before the figure flicked his wrist. He felt a slight pinch in his neck and looked down to see a small dart protruding from his skin. Then he blacked out.
Three years past and Kurt had become engrossed in the ways of the Shades of Gray. The man who he met that day was Matt Schmautz, the leader of the Shades. He explained what the organization stood for and what their goals were. Kurt was receptive to their message and agreed to join. He had been living with an uncle who cared little for him, so it wasn't like he was leaving anything behind. From then on Matt became his mentor, teaching Kurt how to fight, hunt, and be an assassin. His most important lessons were about how to deal with the burdens of being a Shade of Gray.
"Your personality, your likes, dislikes, sense of humor, taste in music, that's what keeps you grounded," Matt would tell him "For all intents and purposes, we are not the good guys. We fight dirty. We put the needs of the many over those of the few. We kill people that are do bad things. There are few truly bad guys in this world. Murderers, terrorists, molesters, sure. But a bank robber who steals someone's life savings will still be Daddy to his son. Drug dealers who are ruining their customer's lives? They may be trying to put multiple kids through college. Nothing is truly right or wrong. Heroes and law enforcement, they need sufficient evidence to act. They try to see the good in everyone. That doesn't solve any problems."
Kurt was also quickly enlightened about the world of Greek and Roman mythology come to life. At first, it seemed impossible to believe. But the more he saw and the more missions he undertook, the more legitimate the myths seemed. The Shades of Gray were all demigods, and they had ascertained that he was one too. He did not have any of the characteristics that would mark him as the child of one of the big twelve goddesses, but he was powerful nonetheless. In the three years training with the shades, he had grown to five feet and ten inches. His brown hair was cut short and straight. His eyes were black as onyxes, something no doctor had been able to explain, Kurt's physical conditioning and build had greatly improved, and he soon distinguished himself as one of the best among the Shades.
The camp soon began to bustle with activity as people of all ages and backgrounds went about their business. The oldest was Matt at twenty six, and the youngest Shade was Alaina Sanders at age nine. Kurt walked to the food tent and passed many familiar faces on his way there. Johnny Erixsson, son of Hephaestus was forging new battle armor. Second in command Lily Patel, a daughter of Athena, was in a deep conversation with Matt about upcoming operations. Matt was a son of Mercury himself, and upon seeing Kurt, waved him over. Both of them looked gaunt and ragged. Matt had not changed clothes in three days and Lily had bags over her eyes. They both managed to smile when Kurt came over. "How'd you sleep kid?" said Matt in a tired voice. Kurt sensed something was wrong.
"Is everything okay guys? You both look like college kids during finals week." That got a laugh out of Lily, but Matt remained serious. "Listen Kurt, you know how we've been experiencing an increased volume of monster attacks in the recent weeks? Lily and I both had a dream recently that shed some light on why. It's about your mother, your godly mother."
Kurt tensed for the worse. The mystery of what god was his mother had always hung over him like a storm cloud, and it seemed the answer to his long asked question was not good. Lily began to speak. "It's not your fault. We don't have any other way but to-." Matt then broke the news "You need to leave Kurt. Your scent is too strong."
A wave of nausea washed over him and caused Kurt to stare blankly at the two of them. Emotions came rushing to the front of his conscience. Anger. Guilt. Sadness. They all hit Kurt hard. These were his only family, his only friends. They had accepted him for who he was. Kurt had fought next to many of the Shades in life threatening situations. He had been at the funerals of close friends who didn't survive their assignments. Everything he had ever truly known, his whole world, was with the Shades of Gray. "Why? Hades is supposed to conceal us." Kurt was able to croak.
Again, his commanders seemed to be holding something back. "Your essence transcends what Hades is able to cover. When you were younger, the other demigods rubbing off on you helped your scent to sort of conform to the level of the others. As you got older and more powerful, you got harder and harder to hide. You'll have to go to one of the demigod camps. We're closer to Half-Blood, so that's where you'll be for now." Matt handed him an envelope. "Give that to Chiron when you arrive. He's the head councilor there, and he's a centaur so he'll be hard to miss. Hades has spoken to him, and Chiron has agreed to pass you off as a son of Hades. Nobody can know about the Shades. It will basically be an undercover mission."
Kurt was barely able to process all this information. "When do I leave?" The features on Matt's face turned a shade of melancholy. Suddenly, Lily wasn't there anymore. It was just the two boys. Matt had taken Kurt under his wing at a time when Kurt had been young and full of hatred. With Matt's tutelage Kurt had not only learned how to become a skilled operative, but also how to enjoy life again. The two of them had gone on countless missions together. The other Shades would joke that Kurt was Matt's long lost brother. It was not far from the truth. If Matt needed help with anything, he wouldn't call on officer, he'd call Kurt. Hell, Matt had even taught Kurt how to play electric guitar. A long silence passed between the two, as each knew they must deal with this new problem for the sake of the other. "You leave right now."
At that moment, a dark portal opened next to Matt. They were what the Shades used to travel from place to place. It was similar to shadow traveling, but Hades set up the portals personally, so there was no strain on the individual travelers. Lily handed Kurt a gray backpack, supplied with anything he might need while at the camps. There would be no goodbyes to the others, as Kurt understood that every second he was there, the more dangerous it was. Matt embraced Kurt as he was preparing to enter the portal. "I promise, we will come back for you. This is only temporary. It may be a day, a week, or years, but we will not forget you..And Kurt, you deserve to know, your mother is-."
Suddenly a loud roar shook the camp. Kurt heard someone yell "Drakon!" The Shades rushed to their battle stations. "You have to go, now." Kurt took one last glance at the camp before he entered the portal and left it all behind.
He emerged on the porch of a lake house situated right on the edge the water. Kurt had expected a more military style encampment, not a summer camp. With the obstacle course, volleyball nets, dining pavilion, strawberry fields, and sunshine, this place looked like a vacation destination. Kurt was about to knock on the door when he hear the soft clapping of hooves on the porch. He turned around to see a centaur with a brown horse body and kind brown eyes. "It's nice to meet you."
Kurt was still reeling from separated from the Shades, but he knew he had to focus if he was going to remain anonymous. "Thank you for having me Chiron, I was told to give you this." He handed him the envelope. Chiron opened it and began reading the letter. The centaur looked sympathetic as he looked over the message. "So, the Shades of Gray were never a myth were they? Ah, even someone who has been mentoring campers for as long as I have does not know everything. Don't worry, our campers should welcome you with open arms. Who knows, you might even enjoy yourself." Kurt doubted that, but Chiron seemed nice enough,
He was directed to the Hades cabin, a black structure that had a bare bones interior. Only a bed, a fountain, and a statue were inside. Kurt put his stuff down and sat on the bed. He thought about the events of the day. It was barely eleven o'clock and his life had changed drastically. What should he do now? Stay undercover and act like a regular camper? Run away and strike out on his own? There was no clear path to take. There was one question that nagged at him: Would they actually come back for him? His godly mother, whoever she was, had given him an aura that was easy traceable. Kurt wondered who his mother was. He lacked the wisdom of Athena, the social skills of Aphrodite, and the magic of Hecate. A conch shell being blown shook him from his thoughts. Kurt walked out of the Hades cabin and looked at the sky. The sun was starting to set and it was diner time. He had been in a stupor for hours.
The smell coming from the dining pavilion made him realize how hungry he was. Kurt joined the throng of campers making their way to dinner. He saw kids of all body types and ethnicities, reminding him of the Shades of Gray. No, he couldn't allow himself to be homesick while he was undercover. Especially now that he was in the vicinity of other campers. With everyone in a large group, nobody had noticed that he was new. The crowd spilled into the dinner area and Kurt scanned the hall for the Hades table. Chiron had told him that the campers were arranged by godly parentage and Kurt did not want to stick out. He was looking for an empty table when he saw a kid in a black aviator jacket and jeans motion him over. Kurt obliged.
The kid couldn't have been more than fourteen and he had a black sword on his side. His face was pale and he generally looked pissed off. He was Kurt's type of guy, no bullshit makeup and designer clothes to try and project a certain image. Kurt sat down and the kid introduced himself. "Hey, my name is Nico, it's nice to meet you." "Good to meet you as well Nico, I thought I would be the only son of Hades here." At that, Nico smirked. "Sorry, that title still belongs to me, I know who you actually are."
Kurt's senses kicked into overdrive. If Nico could expose his cover, then he was a threat. He readied himself for a fight, but Nico seemed to read his mind. "We're on the same team here. My dad explained the situation. I can help you assimilate to camp life. But Hades also had a message for you: He wants you to become part of the camp, forge strong bonds. Said it will be useful on your next quest." Nico then gestured to the rest of the pavilion. Some kids were whispering and pointing, others stole quick glances, and some just flat out stared. "As you see, it will be hard for you to do this as a child of Hades."
Life had never been easy, and Kurt was up to the challenge. If Hades was personally asking something of him, then it had to be important. He nodded. "Ok, any tips on how to do that?" Nico laughed aloud. "I'm literally the last guy you want to ask about that. However, there is a game of capture the flag tonight and you and I will be participating for the red team. Don't try and hide your skills in combat, best way to earn respect is stand out in battle." Kurt smiled for the first time that day.
"Well Nico, let's give them a show."