Disclaimer: I don't own Percy Jackson and the Olympians.

Time: ? Place: ?

The Titans were sure that they would win. They were more than certain. However, Kronos was not one to take chances. He needed a backup plan. Something, that, in case they lost, would help them recover.

So, he decided that the Titans should make their own heroes. One could not rely on the Olympian's demigods to help them much, after all, in the end; they were loyal to their parents, who were in turn loyal to the Titans.

Of course, they were very careful that no one save them knew about this. Unlike the Olympians, they chose the parent carefully, they were sure to select only those who would give their offspring the greatest chance of survival.

And then, they placed their most trustworthy servants to guard the place where they would eventually train. Not that they thought that they would be needing them…

Time: 7:53 A.M. Date: September 15th, 2022 Place: Woody Oaks

This may sound strange to you, but my father is scared of me.

No, I'm serious. It's not like he's always like that, it's just that sometimes I can see it in his eyes. He looks at me as if he thinks I might steal something or get into some fight. Granted, I do get into some trouble, but I do try to stay out of it. It's usually not even my fault. It's just that weird things tend to happen to me.

Anyway, I'd like to tell you my name, but I can't. Not that I knew long ago at that time, but there are several people, (powerful people, mind you), who would love to do any number of horrible things to me.

I can't tell you too much about my home town either. I can't allow my parents to get into the mess that I'm in. Let's just say two things about Woody Oaks: First of all, it's in the middle of nowhere. I'm serious, it takes hours to get to any other major city in the States, there's no airport or train station, and it's pretty isolated from the rest of the world. I mean, we have all the stuff like television and radio and all, but we don't get many visitors.

The second thing is that our whole town is really into Greek and Roman stuff. They make all these buildings which are supposed to be exact replicas of earlier ones, and Mythology is compulsory for everyone going to school. Don't get me wrong, it's way cooler than anything else we have to study, but sometimes I think that we're so engrossed up into the past we don't look at anything new.

Anyway, coming back to studying, that's what my dad wanted to talk to me about. My dad runs the only law firm here in Woody Oaks, and he dresses like any lawyer would. I sometimes find it strange, but I look nothing like him. I don't have his blonde hair (my hair's dark black by the way) or his eyes or his skin. I mostly look just like my mom. But I never mention it for some reason.

"So, son, have you thought about what you want to be when you grow up?" Dad asked. We were on our way to school, and my dad was dropping me off. The question actually caught me by surprise, because I had never really thought about it before.

"Of course, it's not like you have to decide right away," my dad added hastily. I could see it in his eyes again, fear. Was he scared that the question might offend me? Why? It's not like I'm excessively violent or something, but there my dad goes, treating me as if I might sprout fangs at any second. "It's just that you know, you're twelve now and you might want to start putting some thought into it. What is it that you like to do?"

That's another question that stumped me. I'm not really bad at anything, I think I'm moderately good at most things, but I really don't like anything a whole lot.

"Maybe you should look at it from a different angle," Dad said, never taking his eyes off the road. "Maybe you should think about what it is that you want from life eventually. Of course, you may not know it at this point, but you'll figure it out eventually. Have a nice day at school." I suddenly realized that we had arrived at our school. That's the strange thing about me, sometimes I get so engrossed in something, that I have no idea what everyone else is saying or doing.

I just said "Thanks dad," and got out of the car. There's only one middle school here, so I guess a name wouldn't hurt. After all, it is called Woody Oaks Middle School. Not very original, I know, but not much about this place is original.

I was about to walk in the front gate when someone called out to me. It was Mr. P, my Mythology teacher, and he was waving from a bus. It was then that I had remembered that I had forgotten that we had a trip to this new museum today and that we were supposed to come ten minutes early.

Anyway, I got onto the bus, panting. Fortunately, no one was paying attention to me, otherwise I might have melted out of embarrassment.

That is, no one but Mr. P noticed. Mr. P looks like your average teacher, except for these weird sunglasses he wears. They cover most of his face, so it's hard to know what he's thinking.

"We were about to leave without you," he said. I groaned as I looked around and saw that all the seats were taken, except the one next to Mr. P. Not that he's bad or something, it's just that he's kind of weird. He's been teaching for the last twelve years, but no one knows where he came from before that.

Mr. P got up, took the attendance and told everyone to behave. As if anyone was going to listen to him anyway. Then, we all got on our way to the museum.

See, this museum isn't really far from our school. There was one built a long time ago, but that was destroyed in this mystery hurricane that happened a few months before I was born. The old one was destroyed, and they took twelve years to make a new one.

It's basically the pinnacle of our town's Greek and Roman fetish where they have all these models and statues for display.

Nothing interesting happened during the ride. In case you're wondering, no, I don't have many friends. Sure, I do like to talk to some people, but no one I guess I hang around with all day. The entire trip I just stared out the window, looking at the scenery fly by. That's kind of a favorite for me, even if I've been to that place before.

In the front of the museum were four statues. Mr. P explained that three of them were Poseidon, Zeus, and Hades, though as there were name plates beneath them, that was kind of unnecessary.

"What's the other one then?" someone asked.

"Well, there's no plaque or identifying feature on this statue. Perhaps they have not yet finished it," Mr. P. said. He was right, the other gods were carrying their trident or lightning bolt, but this statue was just that of some person. His hand was made so that he was probably supposed to be holding something, but it looks like they hadn't put it there yet.

"I think it's of Kronos," I blurted out. I didn't know how, I just knew. I don't think anyone else thought anything of it, but Mr. P. started glaring at me as if I'd just said that the sky was green. That was weird; I'd never known him to get angry before. Or maybe it was puzzlement. It's hard to tell with his huge sunglasses/mask on.

"Perhaps you are right," he said. "Can you tell me a bit about Kronos?"

"Yes," I said what I remembered. "I think he was the one who overthrew his father Ouranos, and also swallowed five out of six of his children."

"True," Mr. P. said, but he still glared at me weirdly. "He isn't a very nice man, is he?"

"I'm not sure," I blurted out unthinkingly again. You guys may thing I'm crazy to think Kronos is anything but a murdered, but seriously, most of the stuff that happened to him wasn't his fault. "I mean he was a kid and was goaded by his mother Gaia when he attacked his dad, and it was because of the prophecy that he swallowed his children anyway."

Since then, Mr. P. glared at me doubly or triply hard. That was weird, and it was just about to get weirder.

When I got back home, my dad was already there. He usually only comes at around six. Not only that, my mom was crying and my dad looked very solemn.

I guessed someone close to us had died or something, so I wanted to tread up carefully to my room without them noticing, but the moment they saw me, my dad asked me to sit down. My mom started crying even harder when she saw me.

My mom looks a lot like me, but for some funny reason she always looks at me sadly as if she knows I'm going to have a tragic ending or something. My dad jokes about it sometimes, but I could see that this was not a time for jokes.

"We got a call from your teacher today," my dad began. "He said his name was Mr. P."

I had no idea what this had to do with anything.

"The first thing you have to understand, son, is that they're real."

"What's real?" I asked.

"The Greek gods. The Roman gods. All of the myths you've heard, well, not only are they all alive and powerful even today, but they move with civilization. So, now they're in America," he said. I was sure they were joking except for the fact that mom was still sobbing.

"What does this have to do with anything?" I asked.

"Well, you see, your mother and I have always been able to see some things as they are. I met your mother in an asylum. She said that she could see monsters walking around, but no one else could see them or believe her. The thing is that till that day, I could see the same things too, but I was sure that no one was going to believe me. I knew that she was seeing the truth and I managed to visit her and get her out. It's something called the Mist, and it covers up what normal people can see. Instead of monsters, they see other things, like humans or animals. It's just that for some reason we weren't fooled by it."

"How does this have anything to do with me?" I asked again, not sure if any of that had penetrated into my head at all.

"It deals with how you were born," Dad said.

"I already know that," I said. Mom stopped sobbing and Dad looked surprised.

"How?"

"Yes dad, I know, a man meets a woman and…"

"No, I don't mean that. What I mean to say is that we wanted to start a family for a long time. We were unsuccessful for three years, but one night a golden breeze flew into our room."

"A golden breeze?"

"Yes, we were in New York at that time. The breeze just somehow looked golden; I can't explain it in any other way. The breeze wrapped around your mother, and then there was the sign of scythe. You were born after that, but I remember quite clearly, one day, a god came to us and said that you were the son of a Titan, and advised us to move here."

"How do you know it was a god?" I asked.

"We could just tell. Trust me, you'll soon find out. Mr. P. said that he wanted to talk to you about this first thing in the morning tomorrow. We don't know what he want to tell you, but we know this: He's the same god who warned us about you and asked us to move here."

"Bu-but why are you so sad?" I asked. I mean this night was getting crazy, but why was everyone getting so depressed.

"Because that means that you are a hero. And heroes never have happy endings, son. And most definitely not the son of a Titan. It means that your life is going to be hard from now on, harder than anything anyone would want." Mom started sobbing even more after this.

I didn't sleep all night. Not even a wink. Tomorrow was Saturday, but I was still going to school, but it stunk for reasons way more than that.

Mr. P. was waiting in his office. I'd never been there before, but it looked weird. The desk was mad out of those old, expensive kinds of wood you see in stores some places, and there was a suit of armor in one corner. I had the feeling it was real.

Mr. P. looked the same as always, though today he was wearing a dark suit. "Please sit down," he said. "I know that much of what I will say to you will seem the stuff of fiction, but perhaps your parents have already told you a little."

"They said that the Greek myths were all real," I said.

"They are correct. However, that is merely a small portion of the true tale that surrounds you. The first part that you must understand is that the Titans were imprisoned long ago, but they escaped. Approximately seventeen years ago, they escaped and waged war on the Olympians, though they were ultimately defeated. However, they decided that in case they were defeated, their children would carry out the war for them."

"In total, seventeen demigods were sired in this manner. Sixteen are already accounted for. It appears that you are the last, and the youngest as well. I am 99% sure that you are definitely the child of a Titan, for I sensed a Titan's energy in your parents' room, and told them to move here, where you would be safe."

"I've noticed that there was a demigod in this school for some time, though it was only yesterday when I became sure it was you. You identified that statue correctly, though it was impossible for someone to do so. Tell me, did you know that man to be Kronos because someone told you beforehand, or on sheer instinct?"

"I just guessed it, like I just knew it somehow," I said. Mr. P. nodded.

"Then we are almost certain. However, there is only one way to be absolutely sure." Mr. P. waved his hand, and then suddenly there was a glass filled with some golden liquid on the table. "A mixture of ambrosia and nectar along with a plant that grows only on Mount Othyrus . A demigod, if from Olympus, who drinks this will burn to ashes as will any human. Are you prepared to take the risk? I understand that you may be hesitant but…"

He never got any further, because I grabbed the glass and chugged down every last drop. I didn't burn to ashes, if you're wondering. I just couldn't stand not knowing the answer when everyone, even my parents, were worried, and so I drank it.

Mr. P. smiled. "So, it is certain at last. I believe that we can finally show you to our hiding place and reveal our secrets." Mr. P. took off his sunglasses/mask. The thing that drew my attention was not his eyes, but the marks near them, which looked as if someone had clawed at them.

"You're Prometheus," I realized. "That dude who was tied up and eagles fed at him every day."

Mr. P. grimaced. "Yes, I am the 'dude' that you're talking about. Though I escaped some time ago, and on Lord Kronos' orders, I was to oversee that our children were properly trained if we lost. I convinced Zeus that I would cause no further trouble, and pretended to side with him. He believed me for the time being, though I know he still has his suspicions."

Prometheus opened the door, and I realized that we weren't in our school anymore.

"We are actually below the museum that I had taken you to. Did you find it odd that it took twelve whole years to rebuild this place? It was because this place is really a training guide for the children of the Titans. For a very long time, we have awaited your arrival. We waited for the last child to join our ranks, so that we may finally wage our war against the Olympians. But first things first, we must determine your parent."

I didn't get most of this, but my head was buzzing with so many ideas I'm amazed Prometheus couldn't hear the hum.

Wherever we were, it was like some kind of cavern, the walls were made up of rocks, and there were weapons of all kinds on the walls, ranging from a Roman Gladius to modern guns. Prometheus led me to a room where surprisingly, there were other kids.

Now, I guess that they were the other demigods, but the first thing that registered in my brain was that these kids were huge. They were all at least fourteen, and I was sure some of them were around seventeen.

They all stopped whatever they were doing when I stepped in, and Prometheus said, "Well, here we have who we have been waiting for, the last of the Titan's demigods." The other kids looked surprised, and some of them said "Finally!"

"However, we must first find out his parent," Prometheus turned to me and added, "you see, normally the gods claim their children themselves when they turn of age, but that's just not an option with us as most of my siblings are… out of commission. Instead, rub some of your blood on the rock over there, and we'll get to know proper."

The rock in question was, well, black. Really dark, and had jagged edges all over it. It wasn't hard to rub some blood on it, and the moment I did, a sort of scythe appeared in the air. Everyone was silent then, even the biggest kids.

"All hail our youngest demigod, our prince, son of Kronos, Lord of Time and King of the Titans," Prometheus said. He bowed to me and said, "It is an honor to be in your presence."