Will was feeling more helpless by the minute. Everywhere he looked, he saw more of the enemy approaching, and more of his friends falling to the ground.

Besides him, Austin had used up the last of his arrows and had drawn out his sword. Something sliced past Will's elbow as he swung his own weapon around, remembering his training from Camp.

Slash here, dodge there.

He had no idea of how much time had passed; his only relief was that Kronos didn't seem to be amongst the enemy. Had the horn worked? He had no idea; perhaps the stubbornness of the Hunters had run deeper than he had imagined.

With despair, he noted Butch in his tower in the distance being confronted by a couple of enemy demigods before he thrown from the tower. Will found he could not watch his descent. He continued to fight where he stood on the ground, slashing at a couple of beasts that were advancing on his siblings.

ooOOoo

The battle had been raging on for two hours already and Kronos still watched from afar. The numbers of the Campers were dwindling steadily and he was most pleased.

"When shall we enter the fray?" Nike asked, and he could sense her lust for victory.

"We will strike when they are at their lowest." He mused.

"My Lord," Nike sighed, "Why do you not just assume your true form and crush them all?"

The form of Luke had been most helpful to Kronos when he appeared in front of the mortals; something natural about it helped to dispel a little of their fear and made it easier for them to be controlled.

"Perhaps during the battle when it is deemed necessary." Kronos said, "After all, where will the torture be if the demigods gain a quick death? Better let them suffer slowly."

"Shall we call for a respite in a while?" Nemesis asked from her spot next to Morpheus.

He thought on that.

Nike shrugged. "Victory is within our grasp, anyway. Why not provide our troops some rest?"

Her hungry eyes swept the landscape.

ooOOoo

The call for rest was a much needed one, and Kronos's troops raced across as they got back to their stronghold away from the Camp.

The demigods' numbers were down to perhaps thirty. The other side had losses too, but they were still outnumbered by at least three to one.

The bodies of the dead were brought to the Big House and the members of the Apollo cabin were steadily healing the wounded; patching up a cut here, fixing a wound there.

Will clutched the arm of one of Katie's siblings, his lips dancing fervently in the old healing hymn. He was doing all he possibly could but he could feel the boy's heartbeat slowing down rapidly. In a minute, Will knew he was gone.

He felt a rush of grief and defeat and glanced up at Katie with sorrow in his eyes. "I'm sorry, I didn't… I couldn't." He watched the girl's face crumple as she turned away and he moved on to the next almost-corpse.

Luckily, all of his siblings had made it through the battle, but wherever he looked there was death and destruction and mourning.

The air had gone heavy, as if it was grieving too.

He wanted to let himself be engulfed by despair from everything that he had seen and done. It was a miracle that he was still fine.

You're still alive; he told himself angrily, stop complaining. You're still here, you're still alive…

He managed to heal this one; a slight girl from Aphrodite. Next to the girl, Mitchell and Drew were sitting together shrouded in grief. He had heard that Silena had been killed. Clarisse was not taking it lightly, from what he had heard.

"Kayla," he mumbled absentmindedly before moving on to the next camper. "Fetch me the-"

Wait.

Will stood up somewhat shakily, his hands pushing him up from the snow. He gestured to a now free Austin to do the healing and he hurried towards the trees, waiting until he was completely shadowed by their looming grip. Will dropped his head into his hands and before he knew it, he was sobbing; desperate, wretched sobs that were wracking his body.

Lee. Michael. The Hills. Kayla. Rashidah. Leading. Failing.

It felt cleansing, breathing the wintry air as finally, finally he let all it out. And it hurt, so, so much; like picking at a scab, fingers burning into raw flesh.

Lee Fletcher on that summer day with the air tasting of strawberries as the club crushed his skull.

Michael's single arrow lying silent on the destroyed bridge; the body of his best friend never found.

Kayla's frightened face as she went tumbling into the sky.

The Hills, as they crumbled to ash with the smell of burning flesh in his mind and the screams in his eyes.

Rashidah crumpling to the floor, already dead.

Will gathered himself and the sobs slowed to a trickle. He was still alive. He was still there, and he was going to do what he could. He would make sure, he promised, that the Apollo cabin would not suffer anymore death.

He would not be weak. Will had a duty, he reminded himself, and he was vaguely ashamed of his breakdown as he walked out of the forest, back into the crowd, dropping to continue patching up his fellow campers with fierce intensity.

He had dispelled his demons for now, and he hummed softly to himself as he worked, letting the music bring him a calm strength.

He would make sure his friends had not died in vain.

ooOOoo

Ethan was thinking hard to himself as he stood in a clump of trees; not with the Campers, not with the armies of Kronos but alone in the rapidly darkening skies.

He knew that the Titan lord was merely providing the camp with false hope by not showing up, that sooner or later he would join the battle when it recommenced and then, then there would be true decay. This despair that Camp Half-Blood was going through was merely a premonition, just the prologue.

If only he knew where the hell Kronos's Achilles heel was.

Ethan had had enough of mindless revenge now that he was hell-bent on justice.

In a burst of realisation, he knew what had to be done. He started shaking a little, but he clenched his eyes shut and prayed that this would work.

Huh, he thought wryly to himself, 'pray'.

ooOOoo

Travis and Connor had desperately located each other after the call for respite and they made sure to rearrange their features into ones of nonchalance the minute they stared at each other.

"It's bad." Connor muttered as he brother walked towards him.

"How bad?"

"Like, a-third-of-our-cabin-is-gone bad."

"Oh." Travis said sadly. The youngest member of the cabin, Jacqueline Pereira, was seated on a slab of rock as the other campers hurried around her, voices dancing in urgency or dipping in depression.

They could hear a wail rise from somewhere but didn't want to find out what. Across from them, Malcolm was asking for two shrouds.

The girl was only thirteen and she was trembling madly, tears spilling over her eyes. Connor raised his eyebrows at Travis and they made their way towards her. Her arms were covered with bruises from her brief capture by the Golden, little marks that even the Apollo campers hadn't been able to fully heal.

"Hey Jackie." Travis said lightly as he plunked himself down next to her. She raised her eyes to look at him.

"What's up?"

"I don't want to fight anymore." The girl whispered. "I didn't do anything good, I didn't kill any monsters. My best friend is injured. I don't want to fight anymore."

The brothers racked their brains for any joke they might use to make the situation better but they couldn't find any.

"Hey," Connor said gently and the girl started his tone; usually he carried his words mockingly, in an almost-light but disdainful manner that proclaimed proudly to the world that he, Connor Stoll, did not give a shit. "Hey, remember that time when I stole your camera and accidentally broke it?"

"Yeah?"

"And then I stole one from Butch and gave it to you?"

"Yeah?"

Travis raised his eyebrows, confused, but Connor ended his story.

"The point is, Jackie, it always gets better."

Travis shook his head, but somehow, the girl had found wisdom (whether or not she'd made it up) in the tale and she nodded as she sniffled.

"Okay."

"Well…" Connor started to rise but she mumbled petulantly.

"I'm scared."

"We'll be here." Travis said. "With our amazing powers and killer good-looks, the monsters don't stand a chance."

The girl looked unconvinced, so they continued to sit by her, watching the sky darken as the spirits of the campers fell.

They saw Pollux a little ways away, dealing small bouts of drink to the weary warriors and Travis was suddenly gripped by a strange and curling fear that he tried desperately to shake away as he glanced at his brother.

ooOOoo

The Last Olympians were huddled together around a crisp fire, staring into the grey. Whips of vacant snow breezed past them, accentuating the evening which was falling early.

They drew their jackets around them, breathing in the clear air and letting it slice into their lungs.

"We can't win." Drew finally mumbled, her eyes stormy. "There's no way…"

"Shut up." Nyssa muttered, leaning her head against Mitchell's shoulder. She needed to connect with somebody, to know that there was still people out there despite the madness.

Drew tossed her an angry glare and made to retort but Malcolm shook his head. He kind of wished that the snow would start falling again; the ground was too smeared for his liking.