A/N: Alright, I'm really, really late this time, but I have my reasons. My parents have isolated me from writing to devote all my time to my upcoming ACT test, and I could therefore only work for an hour or so at most before going to sleep the past week. I can see their reasoning behind making sure I'm prepared, and I hope you all understand why I took a week off. Or if you don't understand or care, you can at least be happy that I'm cranking this out through Super Bowl Sunday for you all.

Thank you to Warden Of Ale for his flattering review, as well as additional reviews from ChronologicalOrder and SongMasterDesmond. And my God, even my considerable vocabulary doesn't come close to describing how thankful I am of Proud to be Plug for his continued awesomeness and general faith in my story. Many (heck, all) of his points will be greatly considered when I continue editing my Chapters Three through Ten.

You'll all notice that I've made no progress on that in the last month, and I should really explain. I've decided that I'll continue and hopefully finish those edits after Chapter Twenty. I'll be taking an entire month off to do this in conjunction with the Fanfiction guide I keep blatantly advertising to you all. The poll is still up, but it looks like you the readers want that SOB started before Apple of Discord is finished. I hope you all enjoy that; I have big plans for it. Now onward to Chapter Thirteen!

Chapter Thirteen

"I can't believe this is happening," Andrew said shaking his head as the group left the cafeteria. "A lockdown? Because of what happened last week?"

Marty shrugged. "I see the reason behind it. With the ballistae systems off..."

"We still have trained fighters at the school, though," Tessa said. "We hire out a number of older demigods solely to protect the school when we need to turn the system off for maintenance and visitors. On top of that, all the teachers and staff have some kind of combat experience themselves, and they know most of the students aren't really that helpless, either. This whole business with the automatons must really have the Headmaster on edge to make this call."

"Well, I guess Movie Night's cancelled," Will said dejectedly. The group was planning on gathering in the Elder Dorm to watch some old movies from Andrew's gigantic, sort-of legal collection, as they usually did on Friday nights.

"We can do it next week," James said reassuringly. "I think the Headmaster is doing the right thing, with all things considered."

James definitely has a reason to side with her, Andrew realized with a start. The guy's getting hunted by a bunch of super soldiers. I wouldn't want to get caught off-guard with them after me, either. I guess Movie Night comes second to that.

"Anyone here wanna join the watch duty?"

Andrew turned to see a small satyr with neat clothes, curly blonde hair, and a clipboard staring patiently at the group. "The Headmaster wants us to get a few well-trained half-bloods to help out the Academy Guard," he continued smoothly. "I figure going to our demititans would be a good place to start, yeah?"

James and Sophie shared a look, then turned back to the satyr. "Why not," James replied. "Is there anything in it for us?"

The little satyr tilted his head. "Maybe. I wasn't really paying attention when they told me. For now, consider your reward to be that fuzzy warm feeling you get from helping people for the heck of it."

"Count me out," Andrew said with a loud snicker.

Sophie promptly ignored him. "Put me and James down anyway, Vincent. Does anyone else want something to do tonight?"

Chloe yawned softly, a silent signal that she had some sleeping to do. Zach and Tessa, however, simultaneously nodded. "Beats spending the rest of the night with Gamble," Zach said, in reference to his only half-sibling at the Academy. "I can only take so much cutting sarcasm before I collapse."

Vincent the satyr started scribbling rapidly on his clipboard. "Alright, I've got Davince, Diwaali, Suerte, and Prince," he fired off, listing the surnames of James, Sophie, Zach, and Tessa respectively. "Any more takers?"

"I was planning on working on Skyblade tonight," Will said apologetically. "And I don't think Andrew was kidding about being counted out."

As much as he actually cared about the Academy, Andrew had plans of his own; plans involving the improvement of a certain map that was, quite likely, the most precious thing he owned. "Yeah, sorry guys."

Steven looked conflicted for some reason. "Though I would vastly prefer helping you all, I'm afraid I will have to decline. I've been feeling a bit... under the weather, I suppose. I don't believe I will be of much help outside in the cold."

"Nonsense!" Vincent insisted. "One of the best swordsmen in the Academy? If you really don't feel up for standing outside, I can put you on indoor work. There's a lot of preparation work to do in the hanger bay. How 'bout it?"

"That would be preferable," Steven said, looking pleased by the suggestion. "If you would be so kind."

"Oh, can I join?" Marty asked.

The small satyr looked Marty up and down, apparently assessing if he was up for it. "I don't think the Headmaster would approve of letting a rookie defend the Academy. Sorry."

Marty groaned. "You know how long I've been here?"

"I can kinda tell," Vincent said straightforwardly. "You've got that look about you, Greeny. These guys you hang out with are really experienced. Got a couple quests under their belts, these guys. They can fight with the best of them if they had to. You, though...maybe in a couple years, 'kay?"

The look of insult and embarrassment on Marty's face was pretty apparent to Andrew. He felt sorry for the young son of Athena, but he knew Vincent had a point. Marty was pretty dang new at this entire situation. Even demigods, while being naturally talented at combat for the most part, shouldn't be made to protect the Academy if they could barely swing a sword without hurting themselves yet. Andrew didn't expect anything actually dangerous to happen tonight -at most, a swarm of Styphalian Birds that would end up as target practice for the trained Academy Guard- but Marty just wasn't cut out for the possibility of combat yet.

"Which leaves us with Mr. Scowls in the back there," Vincent continued, pointing at Tyler. "You in?"

"Tyler has to stay with Emily tonight," Sophie interjected for Tyler. "She's going to be staying in our Dorm for the lockdown."

"I get it," the satyr replied. "Don't want some catastrophe with that girl happening now, oh boy. That's the last thing we'd need."

Vincent clipped his pen to his board, looking pleased with himself. "I gotta admit, I didn't think I'd get this many people. I might get promoted. So yeah, all you guys who are on-board, report to the outdoor courtyard on the Center Colossus by eight to get your assignments. Thanks for your assistance and all that. Bye!"

With that, the plucky little satyr strode off, a happy skip in his step.

"I like Vincent," Chloe said with another yawn.

"I don't," Marty said grumpily. "Calling me 'Greeny?' Not very professional, if you ask me."

"He had a point, buddy," Andrew said with a twinge of sympathy. "Imagine what Headmaster Mathers would say if he brought out a seventh-grade kid with absolutely zero actual combat experience. The poor guy'd probably get fired. You've got potential though, Martin. Just keep at it; you'll get your chance."

That didn't seem to perk Marty up much. "I guess."

"Well, I'm going to go get ready," Tessa stated. "See you guys then, or tomorrow."

"Yeah, wait up," Zach called to her as she started walking away. He trailed after her like a lost puppy. Relationships, Andrew thought with a mental sigh. So overrated.

The others left pretty quickly after that, to wherever they needed to be. Soon, only he and Will were left in the hallway. "You working on that Maintenance Map?" Will asked nonchalantly.

Andrew frantically scanned around him to make sure no one else was around. "Of course I am! Let's announce it to the whole Academy!"

"Oh, right. Contraband."

"Yeah, and I don't fancy getting expelled that much. You know how much fun I would have at Camp Jupiter, William? Negative. I'd have negative fun."

"I'd come keep you company," Will said with a pat on his shoulder. "I'm Roman too. We could make it a couple years, at least."

"You might. You're built like a truck, for crying out loud. The Fifth Cohort would be begging to have you. They'd eat me alive, then use my pencil body to pick the various pieces of their enemies out of their teeth."

Will chuckled. "Then it's a good thing we're here, not there. I love this place."

Andrew couldn't argue with that. "Me too. And I intend to stay here. So keep your mouth shut about my Map, okay?"

"I've been careful about it this long," Will said, holding his hands up defensively. "I appreciate that thing almost as much as you do."

"I highly doubt that."

James couldn't help but feel a pang of painful nostalgia as he carefully pulled his old armor out from under its hiding place. For over two-and-a-half years, ever since the day he and Sophie were brought to the Academy, the Sword armor had been hidden in a compartment underneath his closet. Until today.

He had to brush the collecting dust off of each individual piece to reveal the deep shades of crimson and black that once identified him as a Sword of Damocles. The armor was light-weight, designed to equally balance protection and mobility when fighting. Being the son of a High Blade was never easy, not by a long shot, but it had at least earned him a high quality of armor among the Swords, composed of both leather and the occasional piece of Damocles Steel covering his limbs and torso. The Swords didn't fight with helmets, believing that enemies of justice deserved to realize, in their final moments, that they were to be defeated by a true Sword, instead of just some faceless servant of the Olympians. Pride in one's self may have been discouraged by Sword teachings, but pride in the collective Swords of Damocles was what had held them together in the harshest times.

James carefully placed each individual piece of armor on his desk, then began the daunting task of slowly and fully painting over the vibrant crimson areas with a special grey dye. Anything that could mark him as the person he once was had to be erased if he was going to use this armor to protect his new home. But he couldn't help feeling that, with each stroke of grey masking the red, he was giving up his hopes of returning to that life someday.

He was no closer to avenging his father's meaningless death today than the day that life came crashing down around him. The woman in purple flames who had mutilated his wrist with her burns and cast him away was still out there somewhere, perhaps seeking to divide or destroy the Swords even further. His old family, with the exception of Noah and Marcus, still wanted to kill him. And worst of all, he still had no idea how he would ever look into Damian's eyes and tell him that their fathers had been forced to kill each other.

Thoughts like that assaulted James every single day, usually after the nightmares, but it was getting harder and harder for him to push them away nowadays.

When the arduous task was finally done, any trace of the crimson on his old armor replaced by dull grey, James put on a tight long-sleeve black shirt and blue jeans to wear underneath it. He then fastened each piece of armor on one-at-a-time, the process of assembling the armor returning to him slowly. It was a little tighter than it once was (proof that, despite Will's jokes to the contrary, he had actually grown in three years), but it was still by far the best armor in the entire Academy for James.

As he fastened the few straps on his greaves, he realized that this time he didn't even want to push the thoughts away. He was tired; tired of the hiding, tired of the running, tired of the secrets. What was the point of going on, acting like everything was fine, basically lying to Sophie and his other friends about being okay?

A strange thought suddenly shot through his mind: What am I still doing at this place?

The more he thought about it, the more he realized that he really couldn't answer that question anymore. He used to be able to convince himself, in the blink of an eye, that it was because it was the only place safe for him and Sophie anymore. But how safe was Delphi Academy now? Strange flying automatons attacking Arcsails, unknown enemies closing in around them. And what had he done with the relative safety Delphi Academy had granted him? Nothing.

What else was keeping him here? Friends? James couldn't deny that he'd grown close to the people here, but now he might even be putting them in serious danger by staying. Heck, might? He'd told Will and Andrew everything; there was no doubt in his mind that they were in danger now. He'd told them to help himself to recover, but all it had done was make his fears worse.

Sophie? Sophie deserved a real home, and James decided immediately that he would never take that away from her. Not after all the abandonment she'd gone through, not after everything she'd done for him. She needed to stay here. But did he need to? This place may have become a home to him, but he could never turn his back on his past home in the Swords of Damocles. And that home now needed help.

Would it be better if he left?

A sudden knock on his door silenced his conflicting mind, causing James to gasp out-loud. "Hey, are you almost ready to go?" Sophie's muffled voice asked through the door.

"Y-yeah, I'll be right out," James stammered back. He stood and looked at his newly-colored armor in his small bathroom mirror. Though the sense of guilt persisted, James actually liked the new grays of the armor, if slightly less than the crimson it used to be. He definitely wasn't the same person he used to be. That person had been dead and gone for three years now.

But that doesn't mean I have to give up on him.

Sophie was almost ready to leave without James when he finally opened his door.

A pang of sadness rang through her to see that he was wearing a newly-altered version of his old armor. The stunning red of the Swords of Damocles had been covered with some type of grey armor dye. The new armor seemed completely alien on James; it seemed to almost exude a sense of concealment, where his former colors had exuded a sense of confidence.

His face was slightly pale. "How does it look?"

Sophie put on a small smile. "Different." That was a good word for it, she decided. Not worse, or better, just different. The darker colors made him look calmer, in control, but much more solemn. James shrugged, as if he expected her to say something like that.

Emily, who had just been laying on the couch moments ago, materialized next to them. "Woah," she gasped in obvious deference to James' armor. "Where can you hook me up with a getup like that? It looks a bit like what Marcus was wearing."

James instantly began to scan the room for other people, then apparently remembered that everyone in the Elder Dorm knew about the Swords of Damocles. "Yeah, it's a Sword thing. Sorry, but I don't think you're getting a set anytime soon, kiddo."

Emily's disappointment was palpable, but she shook out of it pretty quickly. "So, you guys are going out to keep watch on the Academy?"

"Yup," Sophie said. "You'll be safe here with Tyler."

Emily waved her hand dismissively. "I'm not worried. Go keep those stupid flying machines away from here, so I won't have a reason to."

Sophie shivered at the mention of the flying automatons. "With any luck, everything's going to be fine. No automatons, no anything. Just a gigantic fire-breathing metal dragon, but that one's on our side."

Emily's expression was priceless as Sophie and James waved goodbye and walked towards the door. Her first encounter with Festus, Leo Valdez's personal dragon, wasn't going to be something Sophie wanted to miss.

Tyler was leaning next to the door waiting for them. "Don't do anything stupid."

Sophie rolled her eyes. "We'll try, buddy."

"You know what I mean. If something goes wrong -and I'm not saying it will, but just in case- run. I don't care if it's automatons, Swords, whatever. Emily comes first; if someone takes her-"

James cut him off. "We'll do what we can. We can't just drop everything, though. That's what you're here for."

Tyler shook his head. "I'm not as strong as you two. I know it, you know it. My powers are nice and all, but you guys are stronger where it counts."

Which wasn't true in the slightest, as far as Sophie knew. She and James may have been trained by the Swords of Damocles, but Tyler was dangerous in his own right. Surviving most of his childhood on the road, being attacked by monsters left and right, left him as someone who knew how to use both his powers and his weapons to their absolute limits. It took Sophie a second to realize that Tyler might not want them to run from a possible threat solely because of Emily.

When she and James had first found Tyler two years ago, he was alone. Completely, totally alone, in every sense of the word. That's what drew them to him in the first place; they could feel the abandonment of another demititan solely through their minds. Tyler was huddled up in an abandoned house, wearing only a ragged sweatshirt and torn-up jeans to protect him from the winter. He was so cold, shivering so hard in that frigid December that they hadn't been sure he'd make it back to the Academy.

After he woke up in the Academy, his eyes were constantly fixed away from the nurses and trachers who tried to help him. It was only after James and Sophie came around to check on him that he finally looked up into Sophie's eyes. Those solid black eyes were devoid of any emotion, any feeling, any life back then. The numb glare he gave her was so terribly familiar to Sophie that she refused to look away. She knew what he was feeling then; she had felt it too, so long ago, and she knew the one thing he needed was someone, anyone, to care about him.

James had been that someone for her when they'd first met, and Sophie resolved that instant that she would be that someone for Tyler, for as long as it took.

It took so long to even make him talk, longer still to actually make him open up ever-so-slightly. Now, despite his problems with other people, that cold glare was gone. Tyler had come a long way from then, and Sophie understood that he was now afraid for her and James. They were really the only family he'd ever had. He couldn't lose them now.

"We aren't going anywhere, Tyler," Sophie said gently. "We'll be back in one piece. I promise."

Tyler looked into her eyes. This time, those black eyes were far from numb or lifeless. "Good."

James understood as well. "That goes double for me. I still have quite a bit of stuff to do."

"I know. Good luck, guys."

A/N: By the gods, the dang feels in this chapter. I really hope you all liked it. I put a lot of heart into this one. See you guys next week (I promise this time!)