(A/N) So this is an entirely new chapter that was supposed to be the same chapter as the last, so I'll just call it chapter…what is it? Five? Six? Seven? Whatever. Just…enjoy it.

Disclaimer: I do not own Hunger Games or PJO and unless you are Suzanne Collins or Rick Riordan you shouldn't either!

Lucifer POV

I sat in the stands that bordered the longest road in Mount Terra; Gaea's Path, now renamed Tribute Road. It stretched for a whopping half-mile and connected the Tribute House to Porphyrion's palace. I was lucky enough to get a front row seat, but the stands were suspended high in the air. I had a backpack full of drachmas slung over one shoulder and a wad of Benjamins in my pocket. As the only demigod Command Sergeant Major in the entirety of the Giants' forces, I got paid a generous amount of money. Command Sergeant Major Lucifer Schrieffer, the son of Death itself, at your service. Screw that I'm at nobody's service but the Giants'…bitch. I am but the only demigod son of Death alive right now. Thantos is the only "good" god to not be in Tartarus, for Lord Porphyrion wouldn't be able to kill his demigod prisoners if Death was chained.

All gods are the same. Selfish. They only care about themselves. That's why I joined the Giants. Gods deserved to be cast into Tartarus and those who believed that they were the rightful rulers of this were worthy of torture. Only people of great skill deserved to walk this Earth and that's why I trained and trained until all of the training dummies were reduced to clumps of stuffing and my muscles were screaming.

I had no idea which tribute I should sponsor. All of them looked pretty rough and tough on their personal channels. I had particularly taken interest in the di Angelo kid…the son of Hades. He was determined and hardy. There was a good chance that he'd win the Games. If he won the Games, I could befriend him. People of that ability to win when all the odds were against them deserved my companionship. Even an alliance with them would satisfy me. You don't need much to have my respects; all you need is skill and wits. Kill or be killed.

It was too soon into the competition to place my money yet, but I never lost a bet. Ever. I take pride into those who prove their worth, and all of the tributes have earned my respect. I specifically nominated the four tributes from the Giants' army to compete, because they were some of the most skilled in my forces. There was Corporal Tetro, Corporal Cara, Private Xavier (who I should have promoted long ago due to his amazing talents), and the most gifted of all of the students I've ever trained; Staff Sergeant Raven Nightshade, the daughter of darkness itself. The only known demigod child of Erebus to ever exist.

Everyone in the Games was powerful…except for that Annabeth girl; weaving wasn't a skill that required muscle. She was smart though, more brains than brawn, though those kind of people weren't really my type. She could outsmart the competition using wits rather than brute force, yet I still had my doubts. I would sponsor her if the other tributes weren't as they were, but there was just better opposition; tributes that possessed both brains and brawn, not just brains.

There were large holograms that hovered high overhead that would project close-up views of the tributes for those who had bad seats. I had an amazing seat, though. I was right next to the tunnel where the tributes emerged from. I had a feeling that this was going to be entertaining; all of the Big Three had been represented. A fight to the death between Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades' children? That's something worth seeing. Even that scrawny fire-user...what's his name? Liam? Luke? Leo. That's it; Leo. Leo would put up a good fight if it meant that he could live.

I rubbed my hands together in anticipation. All around me monsters were cheering and chattering. Some called out the names of their favorite tributes. Others called out their OTP names. There were mostly monsters, but here and there I saw the occasional demigod who had joined Gaea's forces cheering just as loudly as the monsters. I also heard the sound of bets being made, the closest one being between the three Cyclopes who were sitting behind me.

"My money is on the Poseidon kid." I heard one of them grunt. The jangle of drachmas came soon afterward as he placed his bet.

"Ha! In your dreams. The son of Jupiter is going to kill them all." Another replied gruffly.

"My vote is on that girl from District 6. What's her name? Um…err…"

"Raven?" I asked, turning around in my seat to face them. My obsidian-colored eyes bored into them and their mouths hung open.

"Command Sergeant Major Lucifer Schrieffer, sir!" They all said at once and they poised themselves as they saluted me.

"At ease." I say and they relaxed. "Her name is Raven. Raven Nightshade."

"Are you betting for her, sir? She has a very good chance of winning; she was trained by one of the best." One of them asked. A ghost of a smile cracked on my lips. It always humored me when my troops groveled like that.

"I feel that it is unwise to bet so early in the game? Wouldn't you agree? What if on the talk show you realize that they are insane or easily breakable under pressure? That is precious drachmas down the drain, my friends, though I can assure you that none of my four men that I nominated were insane when they left for the Districts. I am not sure how they fare now, though. Lord Porphyrion keeps us in the dark." I reply.

That's when trumpets began to play, filling the stands with powerful and elegant music. The parade was starting. It was late night and the full moon shone like a star, casting beams of moonlight down onto Tribute Road. It was still not enough light for us to see the tributes parade down the path in their chariots, so braziers and torches were everywhere; drowning out the moons soft, quiet, blue glow with harsh, loud, orange light. Every monster silenced as Lord Porphyrion's voice replaced the music on the intercoms. The holograms changed from showing the symbol of the Giants to a live broadcast of the Giant King. I would've preferred to see him in person, but he was standing on his balcony overlooking Tribute Road a half-mile away.

"Citizens of Mount Terra! I know you have all watched the channels that were broadcasting our beloved tributes and have fallen in love with at last one of them." Porphyrion paused to let the crowd roar in approval.

Not everyone has chosen a tribute. I thought to myself.

Porphyrion continued, "In honor of my beautiful Mother's birthday we will host the FIRST ANNUAL HUNGER GAMES!" The monsters and demigods in the stands went wild; clapping, whooping, cheering, bellowing, roaring, howling, and screaming in agreement. "We all know that there can be only one winner. So you have to make your bets wisely. In order to show off that inner beauty that all of the tributes have, I give you THE TRIBUTE PARADE!" The trumpets blared again, joined by the thrumming of a bass drum. The crowd was deafening as they cheered and hollered, roared and howled.

That's when the first chariot, District 1's chariot, emerged from the tunnel. Hazel Levesque's face appeared on all of the holograms. She smiled and waved at us, blowing kissed as her golden chariot, pulled by two unicorns with shimmering golden coats and silver horns, made their way down the road. Hazel was dressed in the most beautiful, sparkly, shiny, outfit you'd ever see to represent her father Pluto, the god of the Underworld and riches. Since she only had power over riches, her stylist Arden focused more on the riches part. She was wearing armor with overlapping plates each made of a different precious metal. Her hair was braided with jewels and a cape woven of silver and gold threads shimmered in the torchlight. All of the Hazel fangirls (or was it fanmonsters?) went wild; chanting Hazel's name and throwing flowers. Hazel caught a rose and blew a kiss towards the stand where it came from. Several male monsters swooned. Disgusting.

I wasn't very set towards sponsoring Hazel. She was menacing in that sort of tiny terror kind of way. She was powerful in the sense that she could manipulate the Mist and summon gems, but what were gems going to do for her in the Hunger Games? She was witty, but lacked skill in both swordsmanship and hand-to-hand combat, a combination that I was not fond of. You could only sponsor one tribute, so I had to choose carefully. Sadly, Hazel Levesque wasn't worth betting for. When Hazel's chariot was a safe distance away, District 2's chariot marched out.

Tetro smiled and flexed, showing off his classic Greek armor and showing off that tattoo on his bicep that I'd given him since he'd begged that I do it. Since his mother was a war goddess, he had armor on. But it wasn't just that. When his armor got caught in the torchlight in burst into flames, causing the crowd to go wild. It took me a moment to get it; Enyo wasn't the goddess of fire! Then I realized that Mimi Pipkins had embraced the fact that one of Enyo's symbols was a torch. Even with his armor blazing like the burning sun, the horses pulling the iron chariot, two black, armored Clydesdales with wings, didn't get spooked. They just walked ahead; so well-trained they didn't need a handler to guide them.

Though I knew Corporal Tetro would have the upper hand in combat with his mother being the war goddess and all of his experience in my military, he was rather…dumb. He made rash decisions and never actually analyzed the situation; always taking the first thing that was offered to him if it meant getting out of the problem. There was also the fact that I've seen the actual him. He hides his feelings under the surface of his rough and tough character. He was abused by his father and ran away when the gods ruled, seeking out the Giants' army in order to get away. He is actually insecure, and that insecurity can be put against him at any time during the Games. At the time I nominated him I thought Tetro would be invincible; that he couldn't lose, but that was not the case. My bet and my sponsor money didn't go to Tetro. Then the District 3 chariot came.

Leo Valdez blew kisses to all of the lady monsters, who swooned. His hair was purposely matted with grease and his face, arms, and clothes, which were simple denim overalls over a black T-shirt, were covered in machine oil. He wore a pair of goggle things that were pushed up to his forehead. It was a simple costume, yet so amazing. It portrayed Hephaestus immediately and it also helped that Leo had set himself on fire and was now engulfed in flames as his horses, two steeds made entirely of scrap metal and electronics with fiery manes and tails, pulled his iron chariot after Tetro's.

Valdez was handy. He could fix anything and was very cunning and manipulative when it came to ladies. He could build genius traps out of the simplest materials and eliminate quite a few tributes with intricately made death traps. All of his handiness and wits, though, left him naked when it came to one-on-one combat. Though Valdez was fast and could easily retreat, he could not win if he was cornered and forced to fight. He could summon fire, but everyone besides the tributes knew that powers would be disabled by microchips that they would implant into their arms before the Games began. Leo Valdez was a good choice, but there were better. I decided to keep him in mind. After Leo's chariot came the District 4 chariot.

Everyone gasped as the two District 4 horses, two Hippocampi (A/N: I'm referring to the one in the Sea of Monsters, not the actual Hippocampi from the books. Except these Hippocampi have back legs and fish tails) with beautiful turquoise skin and a mane of scale-like feathers, pulled out a chariot that was decorated with fish scales. In that chariot was none other than Perseus Jackson. The returner of the Master Bolt, conqueror of the Sea of Monsters, defeater of Atlas, champion of the Labyrinth, the bane of Kronos, the savior of the legion's eagle, slayer of Polybotes (though he has re-formed), curse of the twins, survivor of Tartarus was standing in that chariot.

His face was regal and elegant, his chest left bare and chiseled with muscles and a six-pack. His black hair was neatly brushed and his eyes shone a sea-green, glittering with power and intelligence. He did not wave, only looked straight ahead as people marveled at his muscles and handsomeness. A fish net was draped over his shoulders like a shawl and he was wearing iron bracers and greaves, decorated with metal studs shaped like fish. He was wearing this Greek kilt (A/N: Sorry I don't know what the names of those Greek man-skirt-armor-things are) made of metal and sea creatures were carved into them. He was drop-dead gorgeous. I'm a straight, twenty-one-year-old, son of Death who commands a large portion of the Giants' army and I would totally strip down and sleep with this guy without hesitation if I was given the chance.

Perseus Jackson, more commonly known as Percy the Destroyer among monsters, has brains and brawn. He is the most powerful demigod to ever live aside from Hercules. He declined godhood and immortality twice and he nearly killed the goddess Akhlys when he sent a wave of her own poison towards her…or so the rumors say. He was the one that all monsters feared. Even I had nightmares about him when he was on the loose and not under the control of the Giants. My nightmares always started with me at the beach and then a marine animal would come to shore and tell me, "You're in deep trouble, bitch."

He was the one a large portion of the monsters were routing for. He was the one that everyone expected to win. If I didn't consider sponsoring this tribute, I was either insane or just plain retarded. The only problem was his fatal flaw. Loyalty to his friends. He would not kill any of them, even if it meant losing his own life. If the final battle was between him and another person who was part of the seven, he would certainly choose to die rather than kill them. But if the final battle was between him and one of my tributes, Percy would certainly kick their sorry asses and would be victorious. Pretty soon the District 5 chariot paraded out.

Pulled by two northern venti in horse-form, this chariot was made of metal dyed purple and decorated with golden flecks. Jason Grace, son of Jupiter, former praetor of the twelfth legion, bane of Kronos' throne, slayer of Krios, and enemy of Porphyrion held his head high. His blonde hair shined like yellow fire in the torchlight and his face looked like that of a Roman statue. His blue eyes swirled around his pupil like a whirlpool and glittered with intelligence and experience. Jason was wearing silver armor made up of overlapping plates with an amethyst inserted in the middle of the chest plate. A purple praetor's cape flowed behind him and on his head were golden laurels. The best part was that every so often lightning flashed across Jason's armor, illuminating the silver like the clouds of a storm.

Clothing-wise, Jason was the best so far. Hunger Games-wise, Jason was still one of the best choices. He probably had the most powerful godly parent out of all of the tributes; Jupiter was the god of gods. His son held immense power combat-wise and he has the natural ability to lead. I'm not judging the tributes power-wise (as in control over the elements) since their powers will be disabled.

All of a sudden the crowd began chanting, "Fulminata! Fulminata! Fulminata! Fulminata!" It took me a while to realize that they were chanting the twelfth legion motto: Armed with lightning. Jason Grace, son of Jupiter the lightning god, was in fact, armed with lightning. I guess that that was Jason's motto now. After the crowd's cheering died down, the sixth chariot came out.

Everyone gasped. Two horses made of shadow reared and bucked as they trotted out, their red eyes gleaming. They pulled a black chariot that was decorated with silver studs. Raven kept her obsidian back eyes forward. Her stringy hair was braided over one shoulder and I could clearly see the huge scar that marred the eye she usually covered with her hair. She was wearing obsidian armor with silver trimming and a cape of shadows danced behind her as her chariot paraded forward. She radiated pure darkness. Everyone was silent for a moment before breaking out into chaos.

"Raven! Raven! Raven!" They chanted. Raven was probably the girl tribute who had been most bet on. She was powerful, witty, and imposing. Her figure stood out amongst the other chariots like a drop of ink in white paint. I knew that Raven had a chance of being in the finale. She was one of my choices as well. She was a good leader, contained, emotionless, and most of all, ruthless. She wouldn't pity anyone she killed, even if she killed one of my other soldiers that I nominated. She wouldn't make any alliances if I knew her; she liked to go solo. I would've nominated a son of Hermes to be in the transportation District, but Raven didn't fit into any of the open slots and I just had to enter her into the Hunger Games; her power was too great for this opportunity to be wasted.

After Raven came the District 7 chariot. Cara Ansford, child of Apollo. Two fiery stallions sashayed out of the tunnel, pulling a red chariot trimmed with gold. Cara was dressed in the old-timey clothes of women in the 1600's. Most would've called that ugly, but she made the red dress with yellow trim (which matched the chariot perfectly) look beautiful. The fabric shimmered so it looked like the sun was reflecting on it and Cara's brown hair, which was curled, shimmered with golden dust and was neatly entwined with herbs, since her father was the god of medicine and healing. Her dress' shine formed into words; poetry, music, and other literature flashed across the fabric in sparkly letters. She was drop. Dead. Gorgeous.

When it came to the Hunger Games, Cara was a decent choice. She always knew who the best allies would be and after they helped her through most of the Games she'd mercilessly turn on them, leaving her the victor. She was strategic and could make good use of the materials around her, including musical instruments! She could use her gift of music to charm anyone who confronted her. She was dangerous in that sort of devil-disguised-as-a-puppy sort of way. The problem was that she wasn't too bent on winning.

To win the Hunger Games, you needed to want to win, or at least not want to die. She didn't really give her all if her heart wasn't in it, and the Hunger Games were no exception. When I'd announced who the four tributes I nominated were, she had not been too excited to kill some of the greatest heroes of all time. She simply accepted that that was her fate and began to shun me and give me the silent treatment. As if that was going to get her out of it!

After Cara's chariot disappeared out of the corner of my eye, the next chariot came into view. District 8, the weaving District. My utmost least favorite District. But that didn't make its chariot any less dazzling. Two pegasi that were covered in spotted feathers from head to hoof trotted out, pulling a beautiful white-and-gold chariot made of ivory. The daughter of Athena waved and blew kisses at the crowd. Her eyes and nose were hidden by a mask that made her look like her nose was a beak and made her eyes surrounded in owl feathers. She had golden circlets around her wrists and biceps and she was boasting a beautiful assortment of golden armor that had intricate designs carved into it. A billowing white cape with an owl embroidered in golden thread flew behind her. Everyone seemed to have capes.

The daughter of Athena was not on my list of potential tribute I would sponsor and bet on. She had too much brains and too little brawn, though I knew she could fight like a demon if given a dagger. She simply was not powerful enough. I knew she'd probably make an alliance with Cara and they'd make a deadly duo, but eventually Cara would kill her in cold blood. Well, at least that's what I thought would happen.

After Annabeth came Piper McLean, whom every monster now called the Killer Hottie. She came out on a bright pink chariot pulled by two pure-white unicorns. She looked utterly stunning. Her hair was brushed to perfection and braided with roses the color of fresh blood. She wore a sleeveless Greek gown with golden circlets and a bunch of jewelry. She had the perfect amount of makeup on and her dark skin shined a caramel color in the torchlight. Her kaleidoscope eyes changed color as she waved at the crowd and blew kisses, causing several straight male monsters to faint and at least three female lesbian ones to swoon.

"KILL-ER HOT-TIE! KILLER HOT-TIE!" All of the monsters on Team Piper (who were mostly male monsters who didn't really care about actually winning bets and more focused on how hot the daughter of Aphrodite was) shouted. One of the Laistrygonian Giants who was close to me ripped off his sweatshirt to reveal a white T-shirt that had the words 'PIPER + RAMONE 4 EVAH' on it. I guess his name was Ramone. Piper blushed at her new nickname and threw both hands in the air. Thousands of her followers followed her lead and it was like an unintentional wave.

Piper McLean, though, was a really good choice and I'm not just saying that because she has a good rack and excellent curves. I know, I know; I can't predict the future. I don't know who the victor is going to be. I'm just basing it on common facts. Piper was deceptive and even though her charmspeak would be ineffective in the Hunger Games, she was still pretty persuasive. She could pretend to be small and weak so the tributes would save her for last so that they could have it easy during the finale. Wrong. I saw how she could hack at those wheat stems and I've seen her rebel against her peacekeepers, which never ended well for her. She had a strong spirit and could fight like a freaking demon if it meant preserving her own life. She would catch anyone off-guard with skills like that; people would take one look at her Beauty Queen appearance and immediately single her out as weak, when in fact she was as strong as any other demigod.

After Piper's chariot disappeared down Tribute Road, Frank Zhang appeared. Holy crap! His chariot was a blood red and covered in black gems. His horses…screw that they weren't even horses; they were hippogriffs (Exactly like a gryphon but instead of the backside of a lion it has the backside of a horse)! It was Frank and his stylist's way of saying screw the system. Frank…gods that boy was ripped and that's coming from the commander of part of the Giants' army who has seen Laistrygonian Giants who have trained for centuries just to get their muscles bulging. Frank looked like freaking Dwayne Johnson. His chest was bare and covered with bulky, powerful, corded muscles. His hair was close-cropped. Roman style. He looked like he could crack a boulder in half just by looking at it. He was wearing a praetor's cape and ripped jeans that just added to his menacing appearance.

Frank Zhang was a beast. No pun intended. I've seen him turning into animals in District 10. That was not going to be disabled in the Games since it's been in the Zhang family for generations upon generations and not just hereditary from Mars. Just with that he had the upper hand. He also had amazing battle skills and leading skills. He was smart and brutish, a deadly combination. I bet you're thinking, "How could Frank possibly lose?" Well Frank did have his weaknesses. Despite his 'IMMA SWAG AND AWESOME GANSTA WHOS GON KICK YO SORRY ASS' appearance, he was soft-hearted and I doubted he's killed another demigod before. If you take away his friends, especially Percy and Hazel, he is left exposed. He will be too caught up in grief to even try to win. Still, Frank could man up and win the Games to avenge his fallen comrades. Angry and vengeful Frank plus Hunger Games equals unstoppable.

I had been waiting for this moment. I leaned forward as the last of my four nominated tributes was wheeled out in his chariot to represent District 11. Xavier Wilston. That son of Aristaeus had so much potential, yet he decided not to use it. I had no idea why. I'd seen him win battles with spears, swords, daggers, clubs, hammers, harpoons, bows and arrows, tridents, torches, catapults, guns, cannons, nun-chucks, a stick, AND EVEN A FREAKING FORK. It helped that his father was the god of useful arts such as farming, bee-keeping, and using anything to your advantage. That fifteen-year-old could slice away armies upon armies with his trusty sword and his backup pair of nun-chucks that he always seemed to bring with him. (A/N: Sorry Evermyst but I had to change his weapon of choice a little…a lot.) I knew he didn't like fighting in the army. I knew it was only because we had blackmail. But for a few moments in the glorious climax of battle I could see him really putting his heart out there and giving his all. That's why I nominated him.

I had no idea why anyone would bet against Xavier. I know, I know; he was working in the freaking agriculture District and really didn't get to show his stuff when he was farming, but still. He created so many useful tools using the land that was given to him to make his work easier. As I always say; it's good to hire a mildly lazy person to get the job done, for they will find the easiest way to do it. Xavier only had one weakness; his brothers. He needed to win the Games in order to get back to them and he could panic when he was in danger by thinking that he'd never see his siblings again.

Xavier's chariot was pulled by two plain and simple white pegasi. He boasted a sparkly, green toga that was flecked with gold, but that wasn't the thing I was waiting for. He looked up and we locked gazes. Don't waste the opportunity. I tried to tell him silently. Flash them the wings. As if he'd heard me, all of a sudden two angel's wings sprouted from Xavier's back and extended to a shocking wingspan of twenty feet. The crowd screamed and roared, throwing flowers and chanting his name. Xavier gave me a thankful look and he waved at all of his followers good-naturedly. The wings weren't a part of the costume; they were actual wings that Xavier was born with. Aristaeus is usually depicted with angel's wings and apparently his children have them too. It is a symbol of purity, which is ironic since Xavier is a virgin on top of being part-angel. It was surprising; who wouldn't want to sleep with an angel? I knew that Xavier was far from pure, though. His soul was dark from seeing so many horrors and experiencing so many awful events. I knew he would show no mercy.

Last but not least came the tribute I was most interested in; the one who showed the most potential out of all of them, even Raven and Percy. Representing District 12, the coal mining District, was Nico di Angelo. His obsidian chariot was pulled by two skeleton horses that strutted down the road as if they owned the place. At first I was disappointed; the son of Hades was only dressed in a simple black leather jacket, white T-shirt, and jeans. WTF!? Cinna wasted so much potential. Then Nico's chariot pulled into the light and everyone gasped as his form flickered and he turned into a skeleton. You could still see the ghostly and faded form of his body, but his bones stood out a pale ghostly white. He looked exactly like a Spartus.

There was a pause as everyone stared at Nico in awe and shock. Then they went berserk, screaming: "Ghost King! Ghost King! Ghost King!" Ramone even took out a black sharpie and scribbled out Piper's name on his shirt and replaced it with Nico.

"I'm gay now! LOVE ME NICO LOVE ME." Ramone tried to bellow over the deafening scream of the crowd, but even if he was screaming at the top of his lungs his voice was still drowned out. Nico smirked but didn't wave or try to look friendly. He just kept his eyes trained forward, his hands gripping the front of the chariot. Wow, the reactions that the other tributes received were nothing compared to this…this…this chaos. I smiled to myself as I sat back. Nico would definitely have the most sponsors out of all of the tributes, his only rival being none other than Perseus Jackson himself. He was cocky, smart, hardy, and powerful even without his powers. Nothing more needed to be said. Now all I had to do was try and think over all of this noise. Who should I sponsor? Who should I bet on? A lot of money was on the line. There were just so many good choices and opportunities, but all of them could come back and bite you in the ass later on. I'd have to sleep on it.