I am BACK! I know, I know, bask in my excellence… seriously though, I know you lot are probably pretty confused as to where I have been for the last year and a half… in a world without Percy Jackson, that's where!

It started off as writer's block – my fault anyway, in my youth and inexperience I had neglected to lay out any sort of plan for this story – and then one day, I woke up and realised that I no longer held any interest for the antics of our favourite demigod. I know! I didn't get it either!

Anyway, the fact remained that I had stopped enjoying PJO. I didn't want to even read the books, let alone the fanfics, and for obvious reasons this is a bit of a blow to someone writing a fic like mine.

However, I was just settling down to do some hard procrastinating when I got an email from . I looked at my phone and the words 'New review for your story Miracles Happen' popped out at me. I read the review and it was so hopeful (talking 'bout you, Kurosaki Yukia) that a wave of guilt and shame washed over me like a melodramatic tsunami – I had left you guys hanging!

I told you like a year ago that I would update, and I still hadn't. Regardless of my inability to write, this is inexcusable, and I am so sorry you had to wait this long. I would not be surprised if many had given up on this story – I would have.

Consequently, I made a decision. I would do my utmost to finish this story, no matter the cost to my sanity and physical wellbeing. I came over to the laptop, opened the draft of chapter 4, and found that… I don't hate Percy and his friends with every fibre of my being anymore!

*Cough.*

Anyway, this explanation has gone on long enough and most of you probably skipped it anyway, so… On with the show!

Disclaimer: Messrs. Riordan and Lee wouldn't be heartless monsters and abandon their works like I have! *Sobs uncontrollably, consumed by guilt*

-Line Break-

Faint moonlight shone from the small gaps in the leafy canopy, gently illuminating the undisturbed forest floor; the peaceful atmosphere of the late night was broken only by the occasional call of some nocturnal creature.

For a brief moment, the weak light was smothered as one part of the undergrowth seemed to darken, the shadows thickening, the blackness almost palpable. Accompanying this sudden gloom came an inexplicable feeling of dreadful unease. Something scurried away through the leaves in abject terror; an owl let out a frightened hoot, frantically flying away.

Thereon, as suddenly as it had ensued, the thickening darkness quickly dissipated into the surroundings and the moon regained control, as if nothing had happened. However, a sense of fear and despair lingered, hanging in the dimly lit atmosphere of the forest like a veil. Every wakeful creature, no matter their size and nature, was left to hide, quivering, in their various nests and dens.

A split second of brighter light washing through the gloomy trees revealed the soft silhouette of a figure dropping into a crouch on the forest floor, then darkness resumed. A glint of reflected light pierced the near blackness… a metal object, or maybe a jewel of some kind… but it was so quick, only the trained eye could have spotted it. The tranquil calm of the forest soon returned, although that particular area remained disconcertingly silent…

-Line Break-

Hundreds of miles away, in Tony Stark's new home in Malibu, it was midday. The birds were singing, and the sun shone through a cloudless sky, glinting off various bits of rubble from the smoking hole in the roof Thor had so thoughtfully made for Stark.

An atmosphere of calm tried and failed to cover up the sense of fear and shock radiating from the various avengers' faces as they assembled in the kitchen. Only Vision looked calm, and he had an unfair advantage, being part robot and all.

Bruce Banner, the resident down-to-earth and sensible team member, was desperately struggling to keep his body from turning green. Evidently the other guy didn't like being supernaturally mind-raped, and Bruce couldn't blame him. It really was a terrible experience. If the rest of the team noticed his internal struggle, they didn't show it; Bruce was grateful for that.

Once everyone had sat down, with a strong coffee accompanying most, he tried at breaking the silence.

"So, I'm going to assume that we all just had the same voice in our head. Any ideas?" That seemed to work. Tony shook himself out of his stupor.

"That message. What did it mean?" wondered Steve.

Tony looked serious. "More importantly, who sent it, and how?" he asked, sipping his coffee. "How come it knocked out Thor, a god, and not us puny mortals?" he scowled. "I have a lot of questions."

"That voice was certainly very full of itself," Thor boomed. "Who are they to act so arrogantly?"

A boom of thunder sounded in the distance. Everyone looked at Thor.

"Not me," he said defensively. "At least, I don't think so…"

Rolling his eyes, Tony sat back and tuned out. He wanted to figure out exactly what was going on here.

"It wasn't like my mind powers," ruminated Wanda. Bruce nodded in affirmation.

"Or Loki's," said Clint emotionlessly (though it was clear he had his training to thank for that).

"Could it be an Asgardian?" asked Bruce, though he wondered how any Asgardian could knock out Thor mid-flight.

As the other Avengers talked amongst themselves, Tony's mind was suddenly drawn to the day of the Ultron Incident. Something about that… well, that warning they had just received seemed familiar… and Tony was convinced that it had something to do with that day; try as he might, however, he couldn't place what it was.

He actually didn't remember much at all, having been unconscious – though, come to think about it, he had had a strange dream… or was it a nightmare? He couldn't remember.

Tony hadn't told anyone, but he was till subduing feelings of guilt and inadequacy from that day, despite reassurances from the team and Pepper, and was burying himself in his work to escape the lingering doubts. During the first few days after, it was all he could do not to just give up - not to yield… but for some reason, he hadn't….

In a sudden flash of clarity, Tony remembered. He remembered the dream he had had while unconscious, and how the thought of it must have influenced his subconscious to keep going; he remembered the feeling of power coming from the old man in the dream, and how similar it was to what they had all just experienced. If someone could project into the minds of eight different people at once, some of which were very well protected, who was to say that the same person couldn't appear in Tony's dreams?

Coming to a decision, Tony tuned back into the conversation.

"-need to tell Fury about this," Steve was saying, sparking the beginnings of a heated debate.

"Whoa guys, we don't need to tell SHIELD about any of this. You know Fury, he'd blow a gasket!" cut in Tony, rolling his eyes. Though he held respect for the guy, Steve could be so annoyingly military sometimes.

"Whatever that was, it was clearly meant for us and not SHIELD," argued Clint. "I'm on Tony's side for this one." Tony made a mental note to hug him later.

"Look guys," said Tony, "I don't know about you, but I value my mind – and I want to find out how someone managed to invade it. And I don't want an overbearing government agency breathing down my neck while I do it. Besides, it's not like we work for SHIELD – with the exceptions of you two of course." He gestured vaguely at the two agents.

Steve was trying to burn a hole through Tony's head with a steely glare and Tony didn't want to find out if it would work; thankfully, Steve backed down, muttering about something. Probably detailing his views on Tony's maturity, or lack thereof.

Bruce put in his thoughts. "if we took this to SHIELD, who knows what they could try to find out the cause." He shuddered. "I've had enough of being Tony's lab rat already, and I don't think SHIELD's methods would be as… friendly."

Feeling slightly indignant, Tony exclaimed, "Hey! You're my science buddy – not a lab rat!" Bruce looked at him incredulously. "Well, maybe a little bit." Having decided not to tell them about his dream until he had more information, Tony got up.

"I'm going to assess the damage inflicted upon my lab, seeing as Thor so kindly decided to smite it earlier. With his whole body. Who really needs a magical hammer when you can just fall on something from a hundred feet in the air?" Thor looked abashed.

"What happened to you, anyway, Thor?" asked Tony. "You were unconscious before you hit the roof."

Thor turned bright pink. "I heard the voice in my head, and while making my way here, I was…" he trailed off, mumbling something under his breath.

"What was that, Point Break?" pressed Tony.

"I was struck by a bolt of lightning," muttered Thor reluctantly. Everyone gaped at him incredulously.

"Hang on, let me get this straight. The god of thunder, who wields the power of the weather on a regular basis," Thor turned even redder, "was hit by a bolt of lightning?"

Thor, embarrassed, mumbled something about talking to his father and excused himself.

Tony finally left the room as well to check on his lab. Silence reigned around the table as the remaining Avengers reflected.

About thirty seconds later, Tony jogged back into the room, and, trying to look casual, picked up his forgotten coffee and strode back out.

-Line Break-

Agent Maria Hill was feeling seriously pissed at the moment, and if she was honest, a little creeped out – though she would never display these emotions while on interrogation duty.

The object of her discomfort was currently rocking back and forth on a stool in his prison cell, muttering nonsense to himself frantically. Hill's job right then was to stand in the corner of a cell and oversee the interrogation of a certain lunatic calling himself Octavian. In her professional opinion, she didn't think much of his credibility as a source, and was also less than impressed by the interrogation skills of the junior agent she was currently overseeing.

She would have words with him later – to be fair, he had only been an agent for a few months, and was only here because Octavian was deemed a low priority by the director.

However, it was also her job to keep a straight face and remain silent for the whole thing unless something was going badly wrong, so she couldn't do anything about Octavian's creepiness or the agent's lacklustre capability for now.

"Mr. Octavian, what did you mean when you mentioned mist?" asked the junior agent – too politely in Hill's opinion.

The prisoner's eyes glinted madly. "The Mist."

"Alright, the mist. What is it? Why is it so important?" One question at a time, idiot.

The prisoner giggled. "It obscures all. Everything you're looking for… so close, yet hidden…your machines won't work against it… against us…after all," he cocked his head, staring directly across at Hill. Slowly, the creepiest smile Maria had ever seen spread across his face. She stared right back, refusing to show weakness.

"After all," he repeated in a singsong tone, "you're only poor," his voice darkened, "little," he paused, face contorting into a horrific grimace. "Mortals." He spat out the last word as if it were the worst crime he could possibly think of.

Hill nodded at her subordinate as Octavian descended into uncontrollable laughter once again. It was time to end this round. They exited the cell, cutting off the sounds of his inane ramblings; Hill allowed herself a small sense of triumph. Now she had something interesting to report to Fury.

-Line Break-

There it is. You know, before I uploaded this chapter I made a couple of edits to previous chapters and deleted that terrible, terrible author's note. Between that time and my writing this note, I already got two new favourites, follows and reviews! It's the power of the Just In section, people! Though I didn't think it happened that quickly…

R&R, and keep nudging me if I ever take too long! Even flames – they make me laugh!

-RoD