A/N: Hello, readers. It is I, RangerOfOlympus. The mightiest of all fangirls, the One-Who-Hyperventilates-Every-Time-She-Hears-"Percy-Jackson." The one who goes on a rant about string theory just because it was mentioned once, in one episode of The Flash. Now, this overly obsessed, if-y writer has come to FanFiction to haunt its halls forever… Really, where else would I end up?Ahem. Now that that...stuff is out of the way, we can get to the good stuff. This is the sequel to my other MCGA crossover with PJO, "Truth be Told". I got quite a bit of requests for a sequel, and I was honestly surprised. Thank you to all readers who reviewed! To tell the truth (get it, truth?) I've been very frustrated with dear Uncle Rick lately because I BROUGHT PERCY IN BEFORE HIM! Honestly, Percy is his character. Bu I'm pretty sure I love Percy more than he does, and I don't get any of the money he makes… But that's another topic, for another time. For now…I'm pretty sure a lot of you just skip over this, so maybe if it's at the bottom in big letters...

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Magnus POV

The world is going to end soon. So, of course, something else has to be piled on top of it that's just going to make it worse. Someone at Hotel Valhalla (don't ask me who) picked up some weird activity going on the border of New York and Massachusetts. Naturally, Sam and I were sent to check it out.

We had only just gotten there when we were instantly aware of what that random person (I really don't know who it was) had sensed. Something felt...wrong, like...I don't know, when your mom puts the mac and cheese on your plate so that it's touching the ham? Okay, bad analogy, but whatever was going on felt like it shouldn't ever ever exist. Sam obviously felt it too, as I could see tightness around her eyes, but she said nothing, only gestured to a hole.

"In there."

At first I looked at her like she was nuts. Honestly, it was just a gopher hole. Even if you don't like rodents, it's not something to point apprehensively with a sword.

"Um, Sam, I'm pretty sure gophers are not what attracted our attention."

She just ignored me and rolled her eyes. "Look again, dimwit."

Then I saw the unearthly white light pouring out of it and the black cracks spreading out from the center. Definitely not a normal gopher hole. Unless gophers have changed since I died…

"Well, we've got to get down there somehow. How do we do that?" I asked. I was fairly certain that I was slightly larger than a rodent. Well, a normal rodent anyways.

"Like this," Sam replied. Without another word, she sheathed her sword and stepped into the gopher hole. I was completely prepared to laugh at her for being so naive as to think a gopher hole would open up into a cave large enough for at least four people to walk through. So of course that's what actually happened. Because the universe(s?) hate me.

Sam glanced over her shoulder, a teasing smirk spread all over her face like jam on toast. Okay, what the Helheim did I just say? Whatever. Let's just skip over that. Anyways, she looked back at me and teased, "Come on down," drawing on out way longer than she should've like the host of The Price is Right.

I rolled my eyes despairingly but followed her down anyways. When we got to wherever the cave was leading us, I saw what was probably the weirdest thing I had ever seen, and that was saying a lot.

The tunnel we had been following opened up into a huge cavern, at least the size of two football fields. In the center, there was a raised stone dais of obsidian. On the dais, there was a spire of black sapphire that seemed as if it had been made to hold something, as it looked like one one those creepy Halloween candy bowls that tries to grab your hand. Inside the claw-hand, there was a big, glowing white orb that fit the available space perfectly. Even as I watched, the orb's light seemed to pulsate, almost like a heart beating. Unfortunately, this was not the most disturbing detail about the cavern we were in. We were also faced with an army of monsters.

These were monsters unlike any I had ever seen. There were weird animals the approximate size of a donkey or medium horse with the back end of a deer, a lion's neck and tail, a badger's head, and cloven hooves. There were also animals with the front half of an eagle and the back end of a horse. Wait, I knew what those were! Those were hippogriffs. I mean, honestly, even I had read Harry Potter. Even weirder than the odd assortment of creatures, however, was their behavior. The monster were lined up in rings, first a ring of hippogriffs, then one of...the other things. All the monsters faced forward, in the direction of the glowing thing, and were chanting.

All the monsters were chanting. Well, the hippogriffs weren't, because they can't, but the...the...Badgerheads? Yeah, that's what I'll call them. The Badgerheads were chanting. They spoke with human voices, and some of them were...familiar. I heard Leonard Nimoy, John Hurt, and even Morgan Freeman. The words were difficult to make out, but they definitely weren't English. I thought I heard a few in Norwegian, which I could understand, probably because of my heritage.

"Stige...helt...blod...ekte…" Rise, hero, blood, true. What did those words have anything to do with each other? Don't ask me. No, really. Anyways, these were the words the Badgerheads continued to chant, inserting words in between those I heard and understood that were in another language.

I cast a glance at Sam, a silent question in my eyes. What are we up against? She glanced back at me, lips tight and jerked her head back towards the exit. She turned and began to leave the cave. I followed, silently praying Please don't close please don't close please don't close… It would be just our luck if the entrance had suddenly disappeared.

"What were those things?" I asked Sam. "I've never seen them before, but I'm not an expert. Are they some kind of really old monstrous Norse horse or something?"

She shook her head. "No. I think I might have seen a picture of them in a museum somewhere, but I can't remember if it was the Norse section. It might have been Greek…"

As she trailed off, my heart sank. I still hadn't told her about my run in with my Greek-demigod cousin Annabeth, her boyfriend Percy, and a giant half-bull thing that wanted to eat us. You might know it as the Minotaur. But if these monsters were Greek, and there were that many of them, I had a feeling we'd be needing some help from the Greeks soon.

I cleared my throat to startle Sam from her thoughts, which I'm sure were deep and meaningful, but who cares? We've got a problem here. "I might know someone we can call. She'll probably know what to do about the Badgerheads."

Sam looked up sharply. "Badgerheads? That's the best you could come up with?"

"Well I don't know what they're actually called! They have badger heads and I didn't know what else to call them. Sue me. Besides, what's your name for them?"

"Stripete hoder," she replied smugly.

I narrowed my eyes at Sam. "Doesn't that mean striped heads? That's no better than Badgerheads!"

"Whatever," Sam fumed. "Are you gonna call that girl or not?"

I managed to convince Sam that it would be better if we went to New York before making the call without telling her why exactly. That was a relief. I was never really sure how much Sam knew when it came to other gods. Sometimes I thought she was only aware of the Norse, and sometimes I thought otherwise. But I didn't want to take the time to explain the Greek gods to Sam; I'd let Percy and Annabeth do that. They'd do a much better job than me, especially since they're living the Greek demigod dream.

Sam and I got a little closer to Long Island before finally stopping in a small cafe. She went to order coffee or something and I dialed Annabeth's number, nervously drumming my fingers on the tabletop as I waited for her to pick up.