Before her guards left, Lauren told them to feed Ethan. The both of them hadn't eaten since… She didn't even know what day it was.

To the best of her memory, they escaped from Camp Half-Blood Monday afternoon; they arrived in New York and were captured in the evening. How long had she been unconscious from their captors' smoke bombs? She was only sure of one thing, that it was already Tuesday.

Earlier, when she and Ethan were trying to look for the exit, she would glance out windows and find that the sky was a shade of purple. Not dark enough for it to be early in the evening, but not light enough for it to be early in the morning either. It was still in the middle of the night, then.

The boy hasn't eaten since yesterday… Lauren, for one, knew that it wasn't healthy. She may have been a demigod herself and was therefore still half-human, but she'd been blessed by Artemis. She could go for a whole day without so much as a piece of bread. For Ethan, though, she couldn't be sure.

Could he die from being declined food for a day, or was that fine?

Her wrists weren't cuffed anymore. Instead, they'd placed her in a different room and sat her on a very different chair. Iron fetters had been installed on the arms and legs of the chair. They were thicker and sturdier than any handcuff, and she found the only parts of her body that she could move were her neck, head, and hips, but it wasn't like any of those could help.

She tried moving her hips upward to be able to pull at least one of her legs out of the restraints, but it couldn't be done. Her feet were planted on metal grates that were attached to the chair as well, and it prevented her from touching the floor.

There was nothing left to do, really. She prayed fervently to Artemis. When it was clear that the goddess wasn't going to come, she asked her to make sure that they found Khione.

At the thought of that snow goddess, Lauren cursed inwardly. She hadn't been able to ask Ethan about his most recent dream—because perhaps something had changed.

Lauren stared at herself in the one-way glass, trying to ignore the possibility of agents staring back at her from the outside. She did her best to memorize the details, for Hunters seldom ever were able to find waters as smooth as glass to look at themselves with. The last time she was able to look at herself had to be a year ago, when she'd been able to find a frozen pond.

Nothing had changed with her appearance, of course, which was a result of Artemis' blessing of immortality. Her eyes were the same deep brown, her skin the same tan, and her choppy, russet hair the same length it had always been—about an inch or so below her jaw.

She eyed the thin braid at the side of her face, which she always kept plaited because it was the only lock of hair that would fall to her face and block her eyes.

Thoughtful, she remembered the many people who had braided it over the years: Phoebe, Jill, Chloe, Thalia, Jean, Kali, Aria, even Artemis herself—four of whom were dead.

Sadness crept into her, like one of Dionysus' deadly grapevines, but she banished the emotion before it could deal too much damage. It was not the time to grieve. A new threat was dawning on them, someone who'd been strong enough to halt the Golden Fleece's magic.

Either the gods would rally to subdue Khione, or they wouldn't, and their children would be left to do their job once more. But the real question was: had Khione become powerful enough to issue yet another potential apocalypse?

Two hours passed. Lauren had reduced to staring at her feet in concentration as she, yet again, tried pulling her hands through the ends of her tubular restraints. But her knuckles couldn't fit, no matter what she did. The sweat on her hands did little to help slip them out of the fetters.

A soft grunt escaped her lips, not nearly loud enough to mask the footsteps that were getting closer.

Her ears perked up, and she stopped struggling the same moment the door opened. Three people stepped through, two of whom were already familiar—Captain America and Agent Coulson.

One was very much foreign: dark skin, trimmed beard, black coat over a black suit with the familiar eagle emblem on his right chest, and two cold eyes, one of which was covered by an eyepatch.

If Thalia was in her position, she would have jumped at the chance to retaliate and mock him, but Lauren wanted to be careful. She'd underestimated them before, she wasn't going to again. But he was still a man, which, of course, made it all the more harder for her to stay patient.

The stranger approached her, and she straightened in her seat.

"Good morning. My name is Nicholas Fury." he said, almost arrogantly. "Let's get down to business. For someone as young as you, you've caused us a lot of trouble. But first thing's first." He stopped in front of her. "Mind telling me where you got that gun of yours?"

She wanted to roll her eyes, state that it wasn't a gun, but that would defeat the entire purpose of her keeping quiet.

"It was a gift," she replied simply.

"From who?"

That, she didn't answer, only raised her chin higher in defiance. Fury didn't like that. The seemingly permanent scowl on his face deepened.

"Your mother?" he asked. "Father? Uncle? Sibling? Friend? Boyfriend?" Lauren's eyes grew steely. "Do you work for someone? Was it them who gave you the gun?"

Lauren sighed, feigning disappointment. "And I thought you were the best interrogator they had in here… My mistake, I suppose."

A shadow crossed his face, though Zeus had looked far more frightening on several occasions.

"If you're not scared of me yet, you should be," Fury said. "Why do you have the boy with you? Is he someone important? Is he carrying a weapon of some sort?"

She looked past him and at Captain Rogers, who was shoulder to shoulder with Coulson; the both of them were silent. She raised an eyebrow. "Has he not told you what I have told him?"

"Orders?" said Fury. "So you are working for someone."

"If it makes you feel better, then yes, I am working for someone."

Rogers started shifting on his feet under her gaze. Coulson eyed him oddly, but Lauren just looked away and met Fury's eyes, which had softened up slightly—most likely because she had given them the glimmer of an answer.

Her eyebrows shot up innocently. "Are you going to ask me who I am working for as well, now?"

"Are you going to answer?" Fury retorted.

"No."

"Should we bring the boy in here again so you will start cooperating?"

"It would not help." She nodded at Rogers without looking at him. "I granted him one question before, and only one, and he's wasted it. You hold no more leverage against me."

"We'll kill the kid," said Fury.

The corners of Lauren's lips twitched up in a small smile. She said, "Funny."

"We will do it."

"Very funny."

Suddenly Fury slammed his hands down on her armrests, jarring her and the chair slightly. The fire in his eyes looked false, and therefore Lauren was not scared. But she found no pleasure in the current position she was in, with the man glaring down so close to her face she could bite his nose.

He growled, saying, "Say that again."

"Back away, now," said Lauren, eyes glazing over in rage. "Or I will bite your ear off."

He seemed to consider the idea for a moment, and then he just smiled. "Is that a challenge?"

A snarl escaped her throat and her head shot forward. Baring her teeth, she snapped for his right ear, the nearer one. She felt the tip of one of her teeth graze skin before it was gone.

Slumping back against her chair, she released a frustrated huff as Fury paced away from her calmly. He didn't seem to have felt or noticed her near-success on the tip of his ear, which was slightly red. Lauren wished that her legs were freed so she could have kicked him where it hurt most instead of just a nip on the ear.

She allowed herself little satisfaction, watching him come to stand by Coulson and Rogers. The latter looked quite fazed, but he stayed on his spot by the door with his hands clasped in front of him.

Fury opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by a rapid knocking on the door.

The smug look on his face was replaced by exasperation. He whirled around and opened the door. Lauren was yet to see who was behind it when he snapped, "What is it?" She found it both odd and ironic that they couldn't have used the earpieces they were all so fond of.

"She has a visitor," a woman's voice replied. Romanoff.

"The boy?" Fury inquired crossly.

Someone who was not Agent Romanoff cleared his throat, and then said, "It's, uh… Point Break."

Lauren realized that voice as well. She didn't even need to crane her neck before Fury stepped aside, first revealing the redheaded Romanoff, and then her apparent partner, whom Lauren had crossed paths with in New York: Clint Barton.

He wore the same clothes he had during their previous encounter, had the same bow and quiver of arrows slipped across his shoulders, and the same apathetic face. Lauren warily regarded him, getting the feeling that any second he was going to nock an arrow and shoot her down. Like what Orion would do.

She had to keep reminding herself that this was not Orion. He didn't have mechanical eyes. He wasn't twenty-feet tall. He wasn't extremely homicidal… unless he needed to be, Lauren supposed.

The male agent met her gaze, and held it for a moment. Then, another man stepped up from behind him, blocking him from view.

This one wasn't from S.H.I.E.L.D. Lauren could see that just by his clothing. He wore a gray cloak that reached just below his hips. He wore trousers and boots, which didn't seem to be made from any material Lauren had ever seen before.

Beneath his cloak, she discerned some kind of armor on him, but she couldn't be sure. His hair travelled to his shoulders in dirty blonde locks, framing striking blue eyes.

"Why do you have her bound?" he demanded, and his voice was almost as deep as Zeus'. He glided past the rest of the agents in a single stride.

"She tried to escape, knocked out one of our agents," said Coulson, eyeing Lauren blankly. "Nearly gave him a concussion too—"

"That is because she is a warrior," the new arrival said, "Blessed by Artemis herself. She will not yield to men."

The room lapsed into a tense silence. Lauren looked at the stranger with furrowed eyebrows, trying to figure out who he was.

He wasn't a god, he wasn't a demigod… if he was either of those, he couldn't have been very famous. But the armor he had on him and the locks on his head sparked such familiarity in Lauren that she couldn't help but to wonder…

How did he know about Artemis?

Meanwhile, Fury swept out of the room, murmuring something to Agent Coulson as he passed: "You sort this mess out, Coulson. Report back to me in two hours."

Romanoff and Barton stepped into the room and closed the door behind them. Lauren suddenly felt very claustrophobic. Taking a sweeping glance around her, she found there were five people huddled inside the room now, and that wasn't including herself.

"Thor, what are you talking about?" Rogers spoke up.

Just like that, Lauren's mind became a jumbled mess.

Thor, she mused. Norse mythology… god of thunder… son of Odin… Aesir…

Long ago, she'd already come to accept that there were many other civilizations in the universe besides the Greeks. Only three years ago had she realized that the Roman aspects of the gods were active as well. And she might have heard the goddess Artemis muttering something about Egyptian gods causing havoc someplace else.

She struggled to find words, slightly distracted by Thor's voice resounding in her ears as he continued explaining to the others exactly what she was.

"Who are you?" she was finally able to say. It might have been a stupid question considering she'd already been thinking it through in her head, but she needed some kind of clarification—any kind.

The apparent 'god of thunder' looked down at her with equally soft and challenging eyes. "I am Thor," he said, "Of Asgard, blood-son to Odin and Jord, and I am he who wields the hammer Mjolnir."

"You forgot something," Coulson spoke up from behind him.

Thor glanced over his shoulder to look at the agent in confusion, before realizing what he'd apparently forgotten. "I am also the god of thunder," he added lamely.

"Right…" Lauren narrowed her eyes. "How do you know what I am?"

"Heimdall has been watching your kind from Asgard for hundreds of years," Thor stated. "We knew about Kronos, and Gaea's rising before it even began."

Once she was able to comprehend the meaning behind his words, anger coursed through her. "And you did nothing to stop it?" she snapped.

A seemingly sympathetic frown appeared on his face. "It was not in our place to intervene," he said. "There is a difference in our cultures, demigod. Your worshippers and ours are more diverse than you can imagine. And as you should know, an unfaithful mortal worshipper is almost always punished severely."

Yes, Lauren knew that. She knew more than anyone.

Taking a moment to calm down, she gave her restraints a good shake. "Do you mind letting me go so we can talk about our little dilemma properly?"

Thor nodded in agreement and made a move to just tear the manacles off, but Coulson cleared his throat. Lauren turned to find him holding up a key in two of his fingers.

Coulson released her from the fetters and she sprung to her feet, inwardly groaning uncomfortably as the blood rushed back to her legs. She met the people's eyes—Barton's for only a millisecond). When she looked at Coulson, he was smiling.

"You're welcome," he said.

Lauren considered him guardedly. "Next, you are going to free the boy," she stated. "And I want my weapons back."

"Done."

She regarded the rest of the people in the room—except for Thor—with narrowed eyes. "I warned you to just release me, and I was not lying when I said that it was for your own safety," she said. "Now you've gotten yourselves in the middle of everything. Obviously, you already know about the Norse." She gestured uninterestedly to Thor. "But there is much that you are ignorant about, and I tell you, for mortals to know what we know is dangerous. So you will forgive me if you don't get out of this alive."

Coulson's smile widened, and Agent Romanoff scoffed lightly.

"Relax, kid," she said. "I'm sure we've gone through worse."

"Do not be so sure, then," Lauren retorted. "Thor, explain to them everything they need to know. Do not speak of plans of action until I am with you." (Vaguely, she heard Barton murmur to Coulson: "Why does she get to order him around?")

Thor hesitated. "Where will you be?"

"Assisting in my ward's release," she said, eyeing the ring of keys looped in Coulson's belt. "I am yet to trust the men in this place."

She met Coulson's eyes boldly but he, still with the irritating crinkle by his eyes, just turned around and walked out of the room.

Lauren followed him wordlessly down the hall, and was only slightly surprised when he stopped only a few doors down. He inserted the key, confusing her because she knew that the keys were supposed to be for manacles. And then Ethan was in her sights, sitting cross-legged in the corner glumly. When he saw Lauren, though, his face brightened. She couldn't help but to notice the red sauce on the corners of his lips.

"They've fed you?" she asked, to which he bobbed his head. "Good."

Coulson turned around and walked back outside; Lauren waited for the boy to scramble to his feet before trailing after the agent.

"Are we leaving?" Ethan said, walking beside her with rushed steps.

"No."

"Are they gonna let you eat?"

"No."

He was silent for a moment, and then, "… Are they gonna kill us or something?"

She almost smiled. "No."

They turned a sharp corner.

The boy released a sigh of relief. "Well, where are we going?"

"I'm taking you to the briefing room," Agent Coulson replied, glancing over his shoulder at them for a second. "Everyone else is waiting for us there."

Lauren nodded briskly but said nothing more. She still didn't trust them. Despite the fact that they were acquainted with Thor, the Nordic god of thunder wasn't exactly very bright (from what she'd heard). She looked to the side quickly and met a female agent's wide-eyed gaze. She rolled her eyes in exasperation, and then remembered something.

"Where are our weapons?" she demanded, stopping dead in her tracks.

Coulson halted as well, but his shoulders shook, as though he was chuckling. He brought his hand to his ear and pressed down; she heard him murmur something before turning around, a small smile on his face.

"I've asked someone to bring them to the briefing room," he said. "You can retrieve them there and check for any damages during the talk, but I assure you, there are none."

She stared at him for a long moment before jutting her chin. He continued leading them down the hall, with the two demigods trailing behind him.

"Did they tie you up?" Ethan questioned.

In a sense. "Yes."

"They didn't tie me up," he continued. "Isn't that weird?"

"No."

"Why not?"

She gave him a side-glance. "Because they think that you are not dangerous, and that I am."

She couldn't tell if Coulson had heard, considering his back was to them. Either his hearing wasn't very good, or he just pretended not to hear. Either way, Lauren was positive that that was the reason they'd restrained her and not Ethan.

Ethan couldn't even swing his sword right.

Coulson finally stopped beside a black door in the middle of an intersection. He turned the knob, pulled the door open, and waved his hand in a ladies first gesture. Lauren glared daggers at him for moment, and then stepped inside.

The first thing she noticed was Ethan's Celestial bronze sword, laying on the surface of a smooth, black long table. Beside it were her bow and her quiver of silver arrows.

Lauren rushed forward and handed the sword to Ethan, taking her weapons for herself. She relished the feeling of her bow back between her fingers. Slowly, she felt its magic crawl into her veins, rejuvenating her spirit. She slipped the shining quiver over her shoulder, followed by the bow, and only then did she raise her head and assess the rest of the company inside the dimly lit room.

Six people, in total, sat around the marble table: Tony Stark, leaning back in his chair with his feet propped up on the glistening surface; Captain Steve Rogers, who sat straight in his chair with his hands clasped in front of him; Bruce Banner, holding a colorful cube in his free hand; Agents Romanoff and Clint Barton, looking very professional with their collected expressions and steady eyes.

The thunder god Thor sat at the head of the table, speaking in a loud voice, as it seemed he still hadn't finished explaining the details of the demigod world.

Wordlessly, Lauren took her spot by the side of the room, leaning against the wall with crossed arms as she waited for him to finish. Ethan came to stand by her, looking quite nervous about everything.

It took several long minutes for Thor to conclude his lecture, primarily because Stark wouldn't stop asking questions.

When silence reigned once more, Lauren straightened up and raised an eyebrow at Thor. "Finished?"

He bowed his head. "My apologies, Lady Hunter. It was very difficult to explain things to the Man of Iron. He seemed quite taken with your culture."

"Oh come on!" said billionaire exasperated. "You can't seriously tell me I was the only one who got confused by all that Western civilization crap. I've been to the Empire State, even tried to buy it once, and let me tell you, there is no 600th floor there."

"Tony," Thor started. "You forget what I told you about the Mist. There is magic placed in the elevators, by the gods."

Stark waved at him indifferently. "Yeah yeah, 'letting mortals see what is only safe for their eyes' and whatever. I remember."

"That must have been why we didn't see anything back at the Sound," Barton muttered to Romanoff. "So weird."

Lauren's eye twitched in impatience. Everything was quite similar to the counselor meetings that she could still remember, during her first weeks under Chiron.

She supposed she should have expected nothing more from the ever so infamous Avengers.