I'm leaving to go camping, like, now, so this was all I could do. Sorry!

Percy

"You ready for this?" Nico asked as we descended the staircase to Hades. Riptide lit the way in front of me, throwing the narrow staircase into a gloomy light. I was mentally preparing myself for what to come: the worst pain a man could imagine, followed by an immediate threat of dissolving into nothingness and letting my soul drift for eternity.

"No," I answered truthfully, and he chuckled from behind me.

"Good. No one's ready for the River Styx. You sure you want to do this?"

"I have to," I replied, slightly annoyed at him breaking my concentration. "The prophecies call for it, and we both know what happens if you defy fate."

"Nothing good," he nodded grimly, and we spent the rest of the descent in a silence that seemed to be made heavy by the narrow staircase and dark walls around us. It was a long, long climb down and my calves were aching by the time we stepped out from the dark hallway into the gloomy cavern of the Underworld. The 'sky' arched high above us, disappearing into the shadows and making me feel as if I was trapped in a coffin.

"Right over here," Nico said, gesturing over the rough stone ground to where I could just make out the ink-blank river snaking through the hard rock, reflecting the flickering torches and making it seem as if the surface had life. I could almost here distant screams of pain and loss emitting from the surface, pulling me forwards and tempting me to dive right in.

"If you're going to do this, you have to be careful," Nico warned as I stepped forwards, letting Riptide drop to the ground. "Focus on one point on your body and imagine a cord there, tied to the bank. You need to concentrate solely on the cord, imagine it holding you on to the banks. Fail to do this and the Styx will sweep you aside like a pile of dry leaves."

"Right," I murmured, staring into the seething water. Ripped scrolls, torn clothes and broken weaponry flowed with the river— a stream of broken dreams and shattered hopes. I tried to believe that this would be possible; Achilles had done it be and survived, even if he had someone holding on to him.

Still, I was a son of Poseidon. I had to have some control of the water, the faintest ability to stabilize myself and fight the rippling current. Nico's ears rang in my head. If I wanted to do this I had to focus on the imaginary cord that would hold me down, the cord that would become my Achilles heel.

The small of my back. It was a well-protected area when I wore my armor and often doubly protected when I had the massive Greek shield slung over my back. Unless they were aiming to paralyze me, most enemies wouldn't go for a hit in that one spot; it was a hard area to hit, and an impractical one at that.

I tried to picture a rope attached to the small of my back, the other end tied tightly to the bank. I took several deep, calming breaths, reminding myself this was what had to happen. The prophecy called for it; it was the only way to kill the British who had drunk from the Spring of Immortality.

I stopped briefly to scoop up Riptide, gripping the sword tightly. Once invincible, my sword should be able to slice through invincible flesh as if it were butter. No man would be able to harm me; no weapon would do anything but bounce off my skin. I would become the greatest warrior to ever live.

With that in mind, I turned my mind to the cord on my back and stepped into the river, my foot sinking into the inky black liquid and hitting the small pebbles below. I had been expecting it to hurt— in fact, I had been preparing for pain the whole trip down the stairs. But my imagination had nothing in comparison to the Styx.

Imagine someone peeling open your stomach.

Now picture them pouring fire ants into that wound.

Have them stitch it up with a dull needle and force you to sit still while the ants ate you from the inside out.

You still won't come close to what it felt like stepping into the Styx. My breath left my chest with a strangled whoosh and the only reason I didn't scream was because my lungs were empty. Gritting my teeth, I sucked in a deep breath and forced my other foot to move, taking me deep into the Styx. I focused on that all-important lifeline stuck to my back, holding me firmly in place as the river tried to sweep me away.

The pain felt as if it was getting better. Maybe my brain was just overloaded and was now shutting down to prevent my heart from giving out. The river tugged at me, desperate to sweep me along and consume my life force as it had so many before, but the cord secured to my back stopped it. I took another step, feeling the tiniest seed of confidence well up in my chest.

My foot slipped on the smooth pebbles below and I felt my center of gravity tip forwards. Nico yelled something from behind me, but I couldn't make it out. I toppled down, the river rushing up to greet me with the eagerness of a hungry lion.

The last thing I saw before going under was a flash of blonde. Then it was gone, and my world turned black.

Annabeth

"You think he'll be alright?" I asked Thalia as Percy descended down the stairs. The Prince had put on an air of confidence, but I could tell he was secretly scared. That unnerved me; Percy didn't scare easily.

"I think," Thalia replied, plucking anxiously at her bowstring even though she knew it was bad for the bow. "If anyone can do this, it'll be Percy."

"And if Percy can't?"

"He's not going to die," Thalia almost snapped. "The prophecy didn't call for it. The prophecy said—" she faltered. "He won't die."

"And what happens when he comes back?" I questioned. Thalia thought before answering.

"He'll be invincible except for one spot on his body," she answered. "If he's smart, Percy won't tell a living soul will his Achilles heel is lest they betray him. When he goes into the river he'll also need a mortal point, something to focus on and anchor him to this world. According to Nico, the mortal point has to be as close to a reason to live you can find, because the Styx is a river of death and if you want to survive it you have to keep your mind in the land of the living. If you don't, it'll sweep you away and dissolve your essence. Your soul will wander for all time."

"So Percy needs to focus on the best thing in his life," I summaried, and Thalia nodded. I found myself speculating as to what that may be. Greece, maybe? Or perhaps his father. Maybe Thalia, or the entire crew of the Argo.

Maybe me?

"Keep your heads up," Hector warned. "We're still in Teutland, and there's a baron out there somewhere who's got it out for us."

"Should we set up a perimeter, do you think?" Leo asked. I shook my head and answered.

"We have a good defensive position as it is. We'll be able to see them coming from miles away, and we have a solid place to back up to to prevent from being surrounded. Plus, we're on guard now, and it should take the Barons more than a day to rally enough troops to take us. By then Percy should be out of the Underworld and fully invincible." Jason smiled.

"Well, it seems we don't have much to worry about," he said. "After putting up with Percy's on-the-spot plans, it's good to have someone who actually thinks."

"That's how I was trained," I smiled modestly. It was true I had been trained as a British strategist, but with the Greeks I was able to do so much more. They were better fighters, quicker thinkers and could do a lot more than the British when it came to thinking on the spot. Plus they had been trained since birth to think, act and fight as a single, impenetrable unit. It made my job as a strategist a whole lot easier.

"So you're sure they won't be able to sneak up on us?" Hector asked, his eyes still scanning restlessly. I understood his caution, even if I was slightly annoyed by his lack of faith in me.

"Look around," I said irritably. "To get close enough they'd have to be invis—"

Piper crumpled to the ground with a slight gasp of surprise, a heavy crossbow bolt sprouting from her stomach. Whistles pierced the air as more bolts sailed towards us, answered in an instant by the three archers.

The ring of fighters, all Darkers save their commander, had formed a ring around us. The commander was a towering man, dressed in glistening armor and holding a massive-two hand morning star. His face was covered by a blank silver mask.

"Barons magic!" Hector of Troy yelled, slipping his shield onto his arm and meeting the first warrior head on. "They got close! Annabeth!"

"Form a shield wall!" I barked, feeling a ball of panic settle in my chest. We had relaxed too much, forgotten to keep our guard up even though we were in enemy territory. Now we were surrounded with two of our best fighters gone.

"Hold the wall!" Jason bellowed over the din. "Thalia, up on the rocks and start picking them off. Annabeth, with me. Let's get that Baron bastard." The Greeks locked shields as Hazam and Thalia scrambled up the rocks of Hades and started pouring arrows steadily into the group. Will Solace was tending to Thalia while looked up from time to time to drop a Darker.

These Darkers looked slightly different. Their skin was paler and cleaner, their hair was neater and most of them had deep green eyes instead of brown. They were obviously better fed and treated than the village Darkers, although they were lousy fighters. Jason and I plowed our way through the Baron's fighters, my knife slashing right and left, piercing through leather armor and cutting down opponents.

Soon the Baron saw us and even though he was wearing a mask I swear his face split into a smile. He slowly turned to face us full, swinging his mace experimentally in one hand while shrugging a huge, kite-shaped shield on the other.

Okay, maybe it was a one-handed mace.

Jason sliced down two more Darkers and was momentarily distracted as his sword got stuck. Using this to his full advantage, the Baron struck forwards, the massive spike ball swinging forwards and slamming into Jason's chest.

Thoughts? Mistakes? Leave it all in a review. Let's get 660.

REVIEW