SORRY! I deleted this chapter, instead of simply updating it . . . The only difference is that it now contains the A/N concerning my hiatus.

Note: please read the A/N at the end of this chapter. It's imperative that I get everyone's opinion.

MUST READ: Again, just repeating from last chapter: I'm changing the title to "Divided I Stand" in the next few days. I'm saying this again because my A/N was rather long last chapter, and this detail may have gotten lost in all the paragraphs.

ALSO MUST READ: It's come to my attention that some of you may have missed a particular chapter of this story—not by any fault of your own, but of mine. For the chapter "Anniversaries II" I was planning to release a mega-giant chapter, but decided in the end to release it in two installments. Hence, there are two chapters: "Anniversaries II: Preparations" and "Anniversaries II: More Prep". Because I released these two chapters in such quick succession (within 3 hours of each other), I think some of you may have missed the "Anniversaries II: Preparations" and gone straight to the "More Prep" under the assumption that this was the one and only update of the week. And so, Thor's narration in the last chapter would be undoubtedly confusing for you. If you did miss the chapter, I sincerely apologize—I should have released the chapters further apart. Please go back and read it if you haven't—it does cover some important stuff, and it also has a short Steve Rogers POV.

So, I know that in some countries, Civil War has already come out in theatres (Ex: France, April 27th). If you have watched Civil War, I'd ask that you keep any details of the movie out of reviews and PMs. I hope this request seems reasonable—some people don't like spoilers, and I seriously fear that I'm going to lose my motivation to write if I watch the movie at this point.

So, it's apparent from reviews that the growing Civil War conflict is not quite a clean cut between Team Cap and Team Iron Man. ;) A popular stance that you guys are taking is somewhere in between the two sides or neutral. We also have a Team Thor, and a Team "can't control heroes".

Great job with reviews again! You guys went right over the goal of 147! Let's see if we can go over 180 for this chapter, shall we?


When Gods Come Knocking

". . . and the other is located somewhere on Midgard." Thor finished, having already recounted their travels for the last two days.

"Midgard, you say?" Odin asked, frowning. "Our youngest realm? Interesting."

Son and father were standing side by side on a balcony that looked over the many courtyards and gardens of Asgard. The courtyards were emptier than usual, however, and the gardens looking a little worse for wear—the season's unusually cold temperatures were keeping people inside and stunting the growth of the flowers and trees, despite the rich Asgardian soil that they grew in.

"Father," Thor started cautiously. "How do you think Loki came to be in possession of the scepter that housed the mind stone?"

Odin's frown deepened, and he remained silent for a moment. Finally, he said, "What do you think?"

"I think that someone gave it to him." Thor responded. His hand tightened on the railing as he thought about his brother. "No one, not even Loki, could have survived that fall from the Bifrost all those years ago. Someone must have saved him."

"What are you dancing around, Thor?" Odin turned his piercing gaze on his son, sensing Thor's hesitancy.

"How did Loki come to have that army of Chitauri? How did he get his hands on the scepter and the Mind Stone? And what was he intending to do once he'd had all of Midgard submissive to him? Rule?" Thor shook his head. "None of it speaks any sense. Loki hated the humans—why would he have desired to rule over them for the rest of his life?"

"You suspect he had help," Odin concluded, seeing what Thor was implying.

"Not simply help—someone who led him forward. Someone who directed his actions." Perhaps this was only Thor's imagination, but in some ways, he wished it to be true. After the Battle of New York, following Loki's imprisonment in Asgard's prisons, the rift between him and his brother had become a full chasm of animosity. Thor understood why Loki had hated him, but he didn't know where all their former familial love and warmth had gone. But if there had been someone else in the picture . . . Thor desperately wanted to believe that Loki's hate for him had been at least partly fostered by someone else, and hadn't been inherent in Loki.

"What if this same person gave him the army of Chitauri?" Thor continued, knowing that his arguments were becoming more and more desperate and possibly unlikely. "Those creatures were banished aeons ago—it would take not only a silvertongue and a sharp mind to find them—you would need intimate knowledge of their banishment."

"You seem to possess such intimate knowledge."

Thor shook his head. "Only what information that I could glean from the Chitauri's strange language, when they chose to communicate aloud during that battle on Midgard. Where they were sent when banished. . . only those who are also banished would be able to find the place, let alone dare to seek it."

"Freyr said that whomever was hidden from him used shadows to conceal themselves—much like if one were to use dark seidr. The chances that they possess the skill to hide themselves from Freyr's eye and have knowledge of the Infinity Stones . . . it is ill foreboding. It is possible that they already know of the location of the last two missing Stones. What if they saved Loki when he fell from the Bifrost 5 years ago, and in turn, asked for his help? What if, 3 years ago, they sent him to Midgard with the army of Chitauri in an attempt to remove all resistance, so that their search for the Stone in that Realm would be easy and unhindered?"

It was more than a stretch, to link this person who was hiding from Freyr to someone who may have influenced Loki, and who Thor wasn't even sure existed, but it was too much of a coincidence. Too many events that required exclusive knowledge and superior powers had occurred in rapid succession over the last few years.

Odin stared out over the courtyards.

"Father?" Thor asked finally, frowning.

"Hm, yes." Odin shifted slightly and looked to his son. "I suppose we must find these stones before this person comes into possession of them. Otherwise, I fear that it will not end well for us."

Thor nodded. "I would like to return to Midgard and inform the Avengers of this potential threat—and perhaps ask for their help in the search for the Stone in their realm."

Odin seemed to hesitate for the briefest of moments, though it could have been Thor's imagination. He finally nodded in return. "Go. The winter fast approaches, and I sense that it will be far earlier than usual."

"As if the snow would fall when the trees have yet to even begin shedding their leaves." Thor joked. "You worry too much, Father."

Odin did not return his smile. "Go, Thor. I'm sure your friends are waiting for you."

Then the All-Father turned and walked back inside, leaving Thor alone on the balcony to frown.

Was that . . . envy, that he had detected beneath his father's neutral tones? Thor shook his head, brandishing Mjölnir and leaping up from the balcony to shoot towards the Observatory. Folly, Thor thought to himself, shaking his head again as he flew over the Bifrost. My father, envious of my Midgardian friends? Absolute folly.


Clint looked at his watch, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "We should get going, guys."

It was 11:43 pm, and Clint was tired. Tired with want for sleep, and fed up with Tony and Steve—the two were going at it again.

"He hunted Bruce for years." Steve said quietly. "How could you stand to smile and shake his hand?"

"Oh, it's Bruce now?" Tony downed another drink of heavy alcohol. "When did you two ever hit first base?"

"Stark—"

"He left us!" Tony snapped. "That stupid, goody two-shoes doctor left!"

Clint sighed. The argument was clearly turning into another issue entirely. Deciding to let the two tire each other out, he left the room with Wanda. Sam and Rhodes had already drifted off, leaving Natasha and Vision to silently watch the argument—and perhaps ensure that fists didn't start flying.

"You didn't have to defend me." Wanda spoke after they had safely left the shouting radius. She was clearly bothered by the fact that everyone had stood up to Tony when he'd had a go at her earlier.

"No, but I did anyway." Clint pulled her to his side as they walked, but she resisted, leaning away.

"I can look after myself." She frowned.

"I know that. But right now, you don't have to." Clint stopped walking, turning to look at her. "You know that, right? You've got a life here, a family."

Wanda didn't meet his gaze. "I know that." She muttered. "I just . . . when it was just Pietro and me with Strucker—we looked after each other. And now . . ." Wanda shrugged, looking helpless.

"Hey . . ." Clint enveloped her in a hug, and she didn't complain. "I know you miss him. I wish I could have gotten to know him better." For any other person, Clint never would have said those words—they tended to cause more harm than good. But with Wanda, they brought back her better memories.

Just as Clint predicted, Wanda began to reminisce about her brother, her breath light on his ear. "I remember one time . . . we'd just started developing our powers, and he told me . . ." Clint could feel Wanda smile briefly. "He told me that, one day, he would fly."

Clint drew back, holding her shoulders gently. He couldn't help but see her as another one of his kids—an older daughter, a sister to the three munchkins he had back at Homestead. He was proud of her for reasons that he had yet to be able to apply to his own children for another few years—her stubborn independence and fiery passion. So many of the Avengers had found her difficult to befriend, but Clint had passed that hurdle in the first few months. Now? They were 'like' family—she came over to Homestead every month, and he visited the training facility every week. But Clint didn't want to consider their relationship familial—that was too normal. Best friends? Siblings? Perhaps a hybrid of the two came closer to describing the unique bond that they shared.

"Well—it looks like you'll have to do the flying for both of you." Clint joked lightly.

Wanda wiped away a single tear, sniffing. "Yes, I suppose."

"You will," Clint said firmly. "After all—you're the Scarlet Witch, aren't you? If you're still saying no to the broom, you'll need to find some other way to fly." He teased.

Wanda frowned. She hadn't had any say in her name—in fact, the public had chosen it for her. "Watch your words, little bird." She warned. "Once I've gotten the hang of flying . . ." Wanda drifted off, her eyes becoming unfocused for a moment. She was communicating with someone telepathically. Then her eyes snapped back into focus. "I should go," she said, just as there was a yell in the direction of the room where they'd left Tony and Steve. "Vision said that they're becoming angry—well, angrier," she corrected herself when Clint raised a brow, "and he doesn't know what to do."

"He's possibly the most powerful member of our team, and he doesn't know how to stop an argument?" Clint asked, a little incredulous. He knew Vision was rather lost when it came to human affairs—interactions when he'd first joined the team had been a little tense, to say the least. Nevertheless, he'd thought that Wanda's company would have made him a little more sensible and knowledgeable.

"Well, he's considering manacles at the moment . . ." Wanda winced. "I should go before he makes the situation worse."

Clint shuddered. "Yes, go. Jeez—I don't want to find out what would happen if he managed to cuff the two of them."

Wanda gave an apologetic smile, along with a quick hug and a whispered "Thanks", before dashing off towards the raised voices.

"And afterwards, we're practicing your telepathy—it leaves you too vulnerable!" Clint called after her just as she turned the corner.

If you wish, little bird. If you wish. Her voice echoed quietly in his mind before retreating.

Clint shook his head for a moment, rubbing his temples lightly. Wanda's telepathy always left him a little dizzy afterwards. Once the spell had passed, he walked down the hall, deciding to check on Annabeth and Percy. Steve had told him that Annabeth had decided to stay at the Tower for the night while Percy rested.

Percy and Annabeth . . . Clint knew Natasha was more than a little suspicious of them, and if she were anyone else, he would give her a small talk about when was a good time to be suspicious, and when wasn't. But she wasn't anyone else—she was Natasha Romanoff.

Nevertheless, everybody had secrets—Percy and Annabeth couldn't be expected to be any different. Yes, he was curious and a little suspicious, but no more. They were kids—not . . . undercover agents. He knew from first-hand experience—young spies were always easy to spot.

He stopped outside the guest room Percy and Annabeth were staying in, and found the door slightly ajar. He quietly pushed the door open, stepping into the room.

"Hello . . . ?"

He was met with a rather adorable sight. Percy was asleep on the bed, still out like a light. Annabeth was curled next to him, partially under the covers, her head tucked beneath his chin while her arm was thrown across his chest, as if determined to be aware that he was breathing at all times.

Clint moved quietly to the other spare bed in the room, picking up one of the comforters and returning to the sleeping pair to gently draw it over them, tucking in the sides, all the while smiling faintly.

How it reminded him of his own three kids. He sighed quietly, leaving the room with nearly silent footsteps and carefully closing the door. There were too many kids everywhere—Coulson would tell him he was getting soft, if he were still alive.

Damn, Coulson . . . Why'd you have to play the hero? Clint had asked this question too many times ever since he'd learned of his death. But then again—don't I?

Clint wondered if that's where he'd end up one day—dead because of one too many bad guys. He hoped not. He couldn't leave Laura and the kids—even the thought of that possibility was too painful to bear. And he still had a few renovations to complete. They would only get finished if his heart kept beating.


Percy was having a dream. Yes, one of those dreams (but no, not that kind of dream—get your head out of the gutter people). And he really wasn't in the mood.

He could remember the bird . . . and that was it. Everything that had happened outside his body afterwards was either like a radio with a really bad signal, or a radio with no signal at all. Fuzz or zilch.

Inside his mind, however, it hadn't been pretty.

He'd been back in Tartarus, but this time as a by-stander, watching as he and Annabeth faced off with Akhlys. It'd been in the same place, and everything was in the same position, but the mood? It had been more than just dangerous and tense—it had been wrong.

Standing on the sidelines, watching the encounter unfold, he'd gotten this feeling of horrible dread; Annabeth was about to get hurt. He didn't know how he knew, or why—Akhlys never even managed to lay a single dirty finger on Annabeth when they'd been in Tartarus. However, stuck in that flashback, or whatever it was, he knew—he just knew that danger was about to befall Annabeth. And he didn't have Riptide with him, no matter how much he searched his non-existent pockets. So he could only watch as Akhlys stalked towards the Percy in the flashback while Annabeth tried to distract her, feeling an ever growing sense of dread that something terrible was about to happen. Then, just as Akhlys was summoning her pool poison, he had been yanked violently out of the flashback/whatever it was and dropped onto the beach.

And now, the sudden cool breeze of sea salt and the quiet rush of waves threw him off, clashing with the residual heavy, sulfurous air and dark dim of the Pit. Then he realized that his hands were shaking, and sweat was trickling down the sides of his face, and his knees were so weak . . . he staggered forward a step before his legs could no longer hold him up, and then he was keeling over in the sand, laying on the heated grains, trying to suck in all of the warmth of the sun because, gods, he was so damn cold, but no, stop, he was boiling hot and his shirt was sticking right to his skin—

"—ercy! Percy!"

Someone was pulling him, lifting him up. Strong, warm arms that Percy fell into, his body no longer under his control. He just wanted peace, peace from all the ache, peace from all the dread, just—

Peace.

"Percy."

He finally registered that he was standing, steadied by someone's hands on his shoulders . . . He looked, looked into the sea-green eyes of his father.

Poseidon was frowning slightly, his face tinged with the slightest shade of worry and concern—the greatest amount of emotion he was allowed to express in front of his son. The god was wearing his usual outfit of leather sandals, Bermuda shorts, and a colorful Tommy Bahama shirt, looking right at home on the beach.

"Dad?" Percy asked, rather surprised and still shaking a little. Gods didn't visit demigods in their dreams very often, and for the past year, there had been relatively little contact between the two. Really, the gods had no need for their children—there was no impending disaster or fast approaching war. And with the voice of Delphi extinguished for the time being, they couldn't even receive the quests that many gods so dearly loved to disrupt—for now, they simply sent out teams of demigods when the need arose.

"Percy," Poseidon said, looking . . . relieved? "How are you?"

The question was so simply, but it was loaded with meaning.

Percy shrugged. "Good."

Poseidon didn't speak for a few moments, his frown clearly indicating that he was aware that Percy wasn't being quite honest.

What was Percy supposed to say? He could spill all his problems right then and there, and his father would still be frowning slightly—he couldn't do anything else. The ancient laws forbid it. And anyways, he'd gotten significantly better over the last year. If Poseidon had come to visit him a month after the war, he wouldn't have been able to answer him without breaking down in tears.

It was in the weeks following the war that the Camps began to see the full extent of the war's impacts. With nothing to do, no battle strategies to form or enemies to fight, demigods were left to their own devices, and thoughts inevitably turned to the people they had lost—friends and family. To the often atrocious acts that they'd committed and the terrible experiences they had faced.

At one point, the infirmary spilled into the Apollo cabin from the sheer number of demigods who claimed they were physically sick. It took a few days or so before they all realized that they had an epidemic of mental illnesses on their hands. That's when Will started to put the Apollo kids through the post-war treatment program that would give them the skills to handle the flashbacks and paranoia (which were almost always indicative of PTSD), hallucinations, insomnia, and many other mental health problems, along with the inevitable, overwhelming guilt. Camp Jupiter went through a similar process, and ironically, it brought the Greeks and Romans even closer together as they shared each other's grief.

Percy thought it was Leo's return that started to bring the two camps out of their heavy and desolate mood. Smackdab in the afternoon, while sitting by the stream in Camp Half-Blood, he'd heard a familiar creak and looked up . . . to see Festus, with Leo and Calypso waving and laughing on his back. It'd been like Christmas arriving early. Welcoming back their friend whom they'd thought was dead brought about a joyous mood that spread through both camps like wildfire, and Leo's boundless enthusiasm and resilient optimism were absolutely contagious. Sure, it was a little awkward in the beginning between Percy and Calypso, especially given their history, but they'd quickly gotten over it. And the demigods, who had been consumed with the past, started to look to the future.

So, looking at his father now, hearing him ask how he was doing, there wasn't much to say.

"How are you?" Percy asked rather awkwardly, in an attempt to be polite.

Poseidon frowned for a little longer, before his face cleared. "Good, good. Fishing season has been very successful, and I have yet to get in trouble with the game keepers this year."

"But that's not why you're here." Percy guessed. Gods never visited just to say hello. Poseidon shook his head, confirming Percy's suspicions. "Unfortunately, no. I've come with a warning."

Percy suppressed a sigh. How predictable. "What?"

"You need to leave the Avengers Tower, immediately. Thor Odinson is coming, and Zeus fears that he may reveal you and Annabeth to be demigods, intentionally or otherwise."

"Thor Odinson?" The name sounded familiar.

"Yes—the son of Odin." Percy could have hit himself on the forehead—of course. The god from space. "Zeus can sense him entering his domain, and he's not very happy about it." Poseidon started to frown again. "In fact, he becomes rather angry whenever the Asgardian visits. Relations between Olympus and Asgard have been strained for centuries—we don't want a conflict to arise now." Poseidon grip on Percy's shoulders tightened slight, as if he was trying to convey the importance of what he was telling him. "You must wake now, and then you and Annabeth must leave right away, before Thor senses you."

"Wha—"

"I mean it, Percy." Poseidon looked hard in his eyes. "Zeus will not be happy if Thor discovers you two in the Tower. You must leave. In fact, staying away from that entire group of 'superheroes'," the god grimaced as he said the word, "would probably be best—they are too inquisitive for their own good."

Percy blinked, not liking where his father was going. "Bu—"

"I know, and I'm sorry," Poseidon looked genuinely unhappy. "But this comes straight from Zeus—I cannot do anything about it, and neither can you. It'll be safer for al—"

"Dad, they're my friends!" Percy broke through, finally getting angry despite of who he was speaking to. He couldn't believe it—just when he'd started to meet new people outside of Camp after a whole year of isolation, people who didn't care for demigods or monsters or all that other Greek stuff, the gods, who had been absent for months, were now telling him, "No, sorry, we can't tell you who you make friends with—but those people are off limits." Sure, maybe the other Avengers might not end up being anything more than acquaintances, but Tony and Clint? Definitely friend material. And the gods were ripping it all up.

Poseidon pursed his lips, but stepped back. He seemed to be harbouring some kind of deep worry—something that went far beyond their current argument. "I'm sorry, Percy." He repeated, as if he couldn't say it enough. "You had best wake up now."

Percy only stared at him, hurt that his father was rebuffing him.

And even as the dream dissolved, Percy continued to stare at his father, who could only look back at him with sad, sad eyes. Was that . . . was that a tear?

Before the dream dissipated entirely, Percy thought he heard a voice.

Be careful, Percy. Please be careful.


Percy woke to Annabeth shaking his shoulders none too gently, urgently speaking his name.

"We need to go!" Annabeth said. She looked slightly panicked, and Percy could guess why.

"You had a dream too?" He slurred, struggling to his knees, which wobbled beneath him for a moment.

"What—?" Annabeth's eyes widening slightly.

Percy nodded. "Pose—"

Annabeth leapt forward and kissed him, cutting off his words. Percy staggered back, taken by surprise, and rubbed his rather bruised lips as Annabeth leaned away from him. "Wha—"

"Friday, what time is it?" Annabeth asked suddenly, loud and clear. Percy stared at her even more, wondering if something had happened to her while he was out.

"It is currently 12:18 pm." Friday replied serenely.

Annabeth raise an eyebrow at Percy, giving him a meaningful look. After a moment, once he'd had gotten over the fact that he'd been out for over 7 hours, Percy got it—Tony's butler/servant robot was listening. Always listening. And probably watching, as well.

"You came on a little rough—miss me?" Percy joked, covering for her desperate move.

"You wish." Annabeth said, rolling her eyes. But she looked clearly relieved—she had definitely missed him. "You know, there's a piece of advice my mother gave me, very recently: don't overstay your invitation at other people's places—especially when other guests might be coming over later." Annabeth looked hard at Percy.

He caught on. "Yeah, my dad said something similar the other day." He didn't mention the odd warning that Poseidon had given afterward—it was still sending chills down his spine.

"We'd better get going, then," Annabeth said, heading to the door with Percy following her lead. "You never know what kind of guests Tony Stark gets from one second to another—I doubt all of them are completely agreeable." She opened the door. "Friday, it's late, so we'd better get going. Can you please let Tony know that we had a great time tonight, and thank him for the job?"

"Of course. Have a safe trip home." Friday responded.

"Thank you, and we will."

Annabeth led the two of them down the hall, letting her memory guide the two of them back to the elevator, and hoped that they would be long gone before Thor arrived.


Thor arrived on the landing pad of the Avengers Tower, the energies of the Bifrost dissipating around him and leaving the metal beneath his feet slightly smoking.

The first thing that struck him as out of place was the smell.

Midgard was full of revolting smells, primarily because of their wasteful consumption of resources and the consequential overwhelming amount of toxic gases that they emitted on a daily basis. Today, however, most definitely took the prize for the worst stench that Thor had ever had the misfortune of smelling. It was a smell of rot that rose from the landing pad beneath him, that wafted by on the winds and circulated up from the streets below. And for Thor's particularly sensitive nose, it was absolutely disgusting. If he were someone not familiar with the reek of rotten flesh, he would have puked already.

He strode into the Tower, hoping that the circulated air inside would rid his nose of the scent. It did—slightly. Walking into one of many lounge rooms, he came across an odd scene.

Stark, in his Iron Man suit, was currently trying to burn through a pair of manacles around his wrists that had somehow become seamlessly welded to the leg of a metal table in the centre of the room. The captain was stalking out of the room, frowning heavily. And the girl, Wanda, was speaking to Vision.

"You shouldn't have done that, Vision."

"I was simply trying to diffuse the situation." He responded, looking rather confused as to why Wanda sounded so exasperated.

Wanda sighed. "But not like that—using words would have been much better."

"Their body language said otherwise—they would not have listened to me." Vision pointed out, as if it was obvious. "It's been proven that when an aggressor does not listen, properly applied force can be the best alternative."

"But you didn't even try!" Wanda threw up her hands, fed up. "You just assumed and went ahead with chaining him to the table!"

Vision was silent for a moment, frowning at Wanda. He was clearly disturbed by her frustration. "I'm sorry," he said finally. "I suppose it would not hurt to try speaking first, next time."

Wanda sighed. "Thank you." She turned around, finally catching sight of Thor.

"Hello—am I interrupting something?" Thor asked cautiously. He had a slight pressure at the back of his head, and rubbed it unconsciously.

"Hi." Wanda looked at him intensely, and he was rather thrown off by her hard stare. "No, no," she said finally. "Just a little spat."

Vision opened his mouth to say something, but Wanda held her hand back at him, as if sensing what he was about to do. Vision closed his mouth.

"How are you?" She asked formally.

The two weren't quite familiar with one another, considering that he'd left shortly after their battle against Ultron. Thor supposed that it would be best to form relations with her—she was an Avenger, after all.

"Good, thank you." Thor rubbed the back of his head again. "I've come from Asgard bearing news regarding the Infinity Stones."

"Oh, great." Tony said sarcastically, his helmet receding from around his head as he turned to glare at Thor. "Let's talk about that later, shall we? After I get these damned things off me—" Tony turned back to his cutting job with the manacles, and gave a frustrated jerk. "What the hell are these made of, Vision? Vibranium?"

"Here." Thor strode forward and with a swing of his hammer, shattered the cuffs. He also broke the leg of the table in the process, but he really couldn't do anything about that—they'd been melded together, for Valhalla's sake.

"Thank you," Tony muttered, rising to his feet and stepping out of his suit. The machine closed again and flew out of the room, out of the Tower, returning to wherever Tony stored it.

"No problem." Thor responded, the Midgardian phrase slipping effortlessly from his tongue. He'd developed a rather large number of habits unique to the realm. "I—" He stopped in mid-sentence, the pressure in his head growing even further and starting to become rather familiar.

No.

Not possible.

"It looks like you have guests here," Thor said, trying not to bolt out of the room. "I believe I must have missed the party."

"Yeah, you did. And they're not guests—they're friends. Who are probably staying for the night," Tony added, sighing. "I need another drink." He muttered, walking off. "We'll talk about the Stones tomorrow, okay? When I'm a little more sober, or drunk. Not sure which yet."

"Of course," Thor said, already hurrying out of the room. "I'd like to go and meet these new friends of yours."

"They're probably asleep!" Tony called after him.

Thor barely heard him, striding through the many rooms, letting the growing beacon of power that radiating out guide his feet. It wasn't intense enough to indicate a god, but intense nonetheless. It was them. He knew it, could feel it in his gut.

Children of the gods.

But what were they doing here?


"Come on!" Annabeth muttered, frustrated and a little panicked now as she saw that the elevator was in use. She was starting to sense an intense radiation of power—something worryingly similar to that of a god. And it was getting closer.

"I apologize for the wait. Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff are currently occupying the two available elevator cars."

"It's okay," Annabeth said, pacing back and forth, agitated. "We can wait."

"Um, Annabeth?" Percy said, sounding nervous.

"Not now, Percy. Let's just get out of here first, and then we'll talk." Annabeth said distractedly, her head down, thinking.

"No, Annabeth." Percy grabbed her arm and turned her towards the open hallway.

A man was approaching them. A tall, well-muscled man in a warrior's garb, with silver armour gleaming beneath a bright red cape. In his hand, he bore a giant war hammer. He stopped a few feet away, power radiating from him.

The elevator gave a pleasant ding! and its metal doors slid open, ready to accept its newest load.

"Um." Percy swallowed. "Hi."

"Greetings." Thor Odinson gestured to the elevator with Mjölnir. "Why don't we step outside for a moment? I believe we have much to discuss."


. . . Thoughts? PLEASE READ PARAGRAPH BELOW.

HIATUS? MUST READ: Okay, I'm going to give you guys a choice. I'm getting extremely behind on studying, and I need these marks. It takes at least 10 hours to write up each chapter, and that's time that is becoming increasingly scarce to find. So, would you like to wait approximately 3 weeks for the next chapter (until May 20 or 21st) or would you like the usual weekly chapters, except significantly shorter—so, 2000-3000 words? (PS: this chapter is about 5200 words, not including the A/N or responses to reviews). I cannot guarantee how quickly the action will move if I write 2000-3000 word chapters—you know how quickly some of my paragraphs can eat up the word count. However, I'm willing to try if you would like it. Keep in mind that following my exams, I'll be able to return to an updating schedule of 2-3 times a week. Please let me know. Even those of you who rarely review or PM, please do so now—I'd like to get an accurate gauge as to what the majority of you would like. Thank you.

And let me know your thoughts on this chapter! Any questions? Ideas? Let's see if we can get over 180 reviews, shall we? :)

Rake1810: I know I mentioned Fury might be in this chapter in response to your review (in chapter 9)—unfortunately, I wasn't able to fit him in. Hopefully, we'll see him soon. :)

- 100th Century


Responses to Reviews:

myonlycomment: So, I'm still rather new to fanfiction, and thus am not familiar with all the terms yet. I'm not quite sure what your review means - could you explain it to me? Or is that a really stupid question? Haha, let me know if it is - happens a lot with me.

The Mythic Scribe: Thank you! And I know! Marvel is really taking it to the next level, including all of these heroes!

riptidedarkphoenix:Thank you—your review just made my day! Hopefully you continue to enjoy it :)

Guest 567: Haha, yeah, I know. I tried to balance his portrayal as a steadfast supporter of government oversight, but it was difficult to remain neutral.

avidreader28: Thank you! And a little obsession for the story won't hurt—as long as you enjoy it :)

MoonLightNinja: Hahaha, your review just made me burst out laughing—thank you for brightening my day! I know—the trailer just made the wait that much worst, waiting for months and months. Thank you! And we'll find out more about Spider-Man's position . . . hopefully soon ;) I don't know about Magnus Chase, simply because I haven't read the story. We'll see.

Vivliofagos: Thank you! Your review was really great to read, it's awesome to know that you considered it "well written"—that's one of my main goals in writing this story. Please keep up your reviews—they're always enjoyable to read!

sbayless44: Thank you! Your review was great to read, and thank you for your assurances—I really don't know what I'm going to do with the Civil War movie in relation to this story, but your review gave me self-confidence, so really, thank you.

TheAdaptableWriter: Thank you! Your review really hit home for me—"You really know how to tell a story". That was seriously touching. Thank you.

Achievement: Hi! Yeah—hopefully this chapter starts to connect the two plotlines. We'll see in a few chapters or so just how important the Thor POV will become :) And yes, I agree on your viewpoints—it's been ingrained in demigods to work freely and without oversight, so government control really wouldn't go over with them very well. That being said . . . well, we'll see. I don't want to constrain myself yet. I'm not sure how the demigods will play into this yet, simply because I'd like to develop the civil war plotline a little further, but I need to keep the demigods active so their plotline doesn't die out. Your ideas actually sparked some other ideas—I already had a plot laid out as to when Percy and Co. come out, but I'd like to integrate some of these new ideas. I'm not sure when you'll start seeing them, and I can't say with 100% certainty that they'll be written, but . . . we'll see :) And please, your reviews are great—they're never inconsequential. You give fantastic, well-developed ideas and thoughts, and I seriously appreciate the fact that you took the time to type these up and tell me them. Your thoughts on demigods having a beef with superheroes was also great to read—they actually also sparked some small ideas that may grow with time ;) There's one question I have: who's aperitif? Or is this a really stupid question? Haha, let me know if it is. And no offense taken - I actually don't live in the US. But really, seriously, thank you for all your awesome reviews.

Cooljoanna15: Yeah, I don't know how close I'm going to follow the marvel plot. Obviously, not to a T, because that wouldn't be creative at all, but we'll see . . . :) I'll let you know if I come to a conclusion.

Matt: You'll actually find out about all this in the next chapter hopefully, if I don't drag it out, so I'm going to play it close to the chest for a bit, but hopefully you can make some inferences based on this chapter :) As for them being friends . . . that has yet to be determined.

MortalGods: Your review was really great to read, and it's really humbling to know that you've drawn inspiration from this. You just completed my day—thank you.

willdawg992003: Well, we'll see . . . ;) no, no, don't worry—Annabeth wasn't assuming that the gods were perfect, she was simply illustrating a grudge that she has against the superheroes, which may be further developed as the story progresses. And we may see a much darker side to the gods later on . . . not sure yet, so I'll keep it at that.

CainVulsore: Yeah, it took a long time to lay out all the groundwork, but now, for all you faithful readers, you'll get to see how the story begins to progress and develop. And we'll see in upcoming chapters just how the demigods will react to this growing civil war ;)

a person d: I said it before, and I'll say it again—I am in love with your phrases. Hufflepuff all the way! (Though I secretly support Griffindor and Ravenclaw, as well, and have a healthy respect for Slytherin) ;)


A/N when I was on break:

I know I can't have an A/N in place of a chapter, but please bear with me (my story's not going to get taken off the site because I'm doing this, right? Or wrong?)

So, if you read my A/N last chapter, you would know that I asked all of you if you'd rather have shorter chapters, or me taking a hiatus. It's rather ironic, that in wanting to put the readers before myself, I asked all of you for your preference, and then you turned around and considered the predicament of the writer before that of the readers.

Based upon the PMs and reviews I have received, I will be going on a short hiatus until my exams are finished. I sincerely apologize to those who asked for continued updates - there were quite a few of you, which makes me feel guilty, but not enough to guilt trip me into writing enough for a chapter, unfortunately - and can only offer the comfort that once I'm back writing, chapters will be of my best work and only my best. The next update should be posted on May 20th or May 21st. While I'm not writing too much, I'm planning, and I'll tell you now - you'll love it ;) Again, REALLY sorry - I never intended for this to occur in the first place.

Thank you for your understanding (or not? That's okay - I would have the same reaction in your place) - it was a serious reality check for me today, that sometimes, it appears you understand me better than the people closest in my life. But then again, we're all human, right? I'm not going to consider the alternative. But don't get me wrong - I still REALLY want to write. I'm just trying to make the best decision for my mark, even though it may not be the decision that I myself would like.

Please don't let this deter you from sending reviews or PMs - I'll continue to reply to them even though I'm not posting chapters.

ResidentOfCabin6 proposed an interesting idea: Vision managing to subdue Tony with manacles in order to stop the argument between him and Steve escalating even further - one shot. So, I never considered it before, but I'm considering it now. If anyone has some interesting ideas or parts of the story that they want as a one-shot, let me know. I won't get to a story like that until perhaps I finish this story, but I'll keep a list of suggestions, and write it when I have time.

Achievement (Guest) asked what kind of music I listen to, so I'll shamelessly promote them now, because I want to share with you an amazing array of songs. Instrumental music is my thing, along with folk songs and some other genres. I'm especially taken with music developed for movies. If you haven't listened to the soundtrack of movies like The Dark Knight, Transformers, Captain America: The Winter Soldier, I highly suggest you do. It'll blow your mind ;) Especially if you've watched the movies. The song I keep playing on my playlist is currently "Basalt" from Iron Man 3. The Avengers theme song, along with main theme of Captain America: The Winter Soldier, are very good. And trailer music is good, too - the trailer music for Civil War is AWESOME. And for those of you who have watched Civil War already, I'm sure the composers have once again lived up to their reputation with a fantastic new soundtrack. I hope so, anyway.

Oh, and 300 Violin Orchestra? Epic. Seriously - listen to it.

- 100th Century


bobbobin: Yeah, I wanted to use AI, but I'm not sure if FRIDAY is entirely one. I searched it up and some sites used UI, so that's what I ended up using. But if you have a better name/label/title, please let me know, and I'll use that. Thank you!

Achievement (Guest): So, it appears my question was rather stupid - I searched up the term online when I first saw it, but I must have spelled it wrong, because I definitely didn't get appetizers, haha. In regards to your concern with Thor . . . well, I can't say much, or I'll spoil it, but I'll say this: you won't be disappointed :). And songs? Well, I hope the above answer was sufficient :)

Guest: You asked so nicely . . . nearly guilt tripped me into writing a chapter, just like MoonLightNinja. But unfortunately, I won't be able to. I sincerely, sincerely apologize.

MoonLightNinja: Haha, your review had me laughing like crazy, so thank you :p I think you were the closest to guilt tripping me into writing more, but yeah . . . I'm really sorry. Hopefully, the future chapters will make up for this hiatus. And I don't think they'll be in this story - I don't watch Agents of SHIELD, and Coulson is pretty dead at the moment in this story. We'll see.

Nobody: Thank you for the suggestion - that's exactly what the next three weeks are going to look like :)

Guest called "k with a dot and dot": Sorry about your username - I tried to type it in, and everytime I saved it, it would be filtered out - I have no idea why! Sorry! And thank you - hopefully his character continues to live up to your expectations :)