All warfare is based on deception.

-Sun Tzu

"This is the third time and you've failed to convince me," Kronos replies mercilessly, his fists slamming down on the table. "Why do you continue on?"

Metis doesn't even flinch. She stares intently at the pieces on the map of San Francisco, Mount Tamalpais, and their surrounding areas, toppled now, thanks to him.

"It's always good to have a plan waiting in the wings in case anything were to go wrong, my lord," she sighs. Her blue-gray eyes flicker towards his. "Would I ever lie to you?"

"Yes," Kronos sneers. He draws his arms back, crossing them over his chest. "How do you know they didn't just destroy it? That's what I would have done."

She taps her finger against the edge of the table, slow, methodic. He finds it jarring. "Zeus tried. He failed."

"Because of your meddling."

She rolls her eyes. "Kronos—"

"New subject, Metis. I am for more dangerous when bored." His eyes narrow. "And let me be clear, you are boring me now."

New subject then. The Titaness turns her attention back to the map, once again adjusting one marker – a representative of the rebel forces – for good measure. Crookedness won't due; not on her watch. "The Rebellion is one their way to Fort Baker."

"Which I already know," he interrupts.

"I don't presume to tell you what you already know," Metis snaps. "I am only here to help you think around your current predicaments, that is all. That way we won't have a repeat of Zeus scaling Mount Othrys and taking you unawares."

He flinches at that memory, for which Metis is pleased.

Of course, Kronos regains himself. "Let them hold the fort."

Her mouth nearly drops open. Color rises in her face. "If we allow them to remain—" She's cut off by pounding at the door. And Metis can't help it. She explodes. "Who would dare to disturb us?"

Kronos only snaps his fingers in the door's direction. It swings open and Metis shouldn't be terribly surprised to see the face that walks in.

His eyes find their way to the map once more as he says, "Is it done?"

Thalia moseys around the circular table with a little spring in her step, while Metis's eyes carefully trace her movements. Only faintly does her gaze settle briefly on the maps before them, the markers tracking the position of their monster legions. "Yes."

Metis's lips form a tight line.

"Lull them into a sense of false security, dear Metis." Kronos chuckles. "Athena is as arrogant as you are. My plan would have been impossible if I split blood trying to hold them on the other side of the bridge. And now I have the one hero that has alluded me for so long."

Not the only hero to allude him, Metis wants to correct. But Percy Jackson's disappearance from Olympus was the only thing to truly unsettle the Titan Lord for the better part of a decade.

Instead, she rolls her eyes. "Yes, Lord Kronos. It is wrong for me to assume I can outsmart you."

"I'm glad you have come to this realization, dear niece," he says, completely oblivious to her apparent sarcasm.

Finally, he looks up, his eyes immediately connecting with Thalia's. She purses her lips, leaning against the table, wind-blown hair draped over one shoulder. Her eyes seem to smile even if she does not, an unspoken message passing between them.

Metis isn't at all fooled. She was young once, as ambitious and sly as her namesake suggested.

Thalia finally speaks. "You never told me what I was supposed to do next."

Kronos voice lowers a little, as if somehow Metis – still in the same room – won't be able to hear him. "A little eager, aren't we?"

"We wait." He shoots Metis a hard glare as the Titaness opens her mouth. "They'll be reeling in the chaos of their hero's disappearance." Metis sends off a glare of her own. "Soon enough we will have the soldiers scout the area for an appropriate vantage point. I want to demolish these rebels once and for all."

Thalia sighs, her bored voice cutting through the tension. "So back to work. And here I thought I would get a break."

"A break. Did you have anything specific in mind?" Kronos asks, rather absentmindedly.

She only laughs. "Perhaps, but it's too late now. I assume the soldiers scouting Fort Baker will be my contingent. I came here for my new orders. Looks like I have them now."

"Metis, ready the archers," Kronos demands without even sparing the Titaness a glance. "And do make sure Alabaster is well-rested. We will be needing his… expertise in this mission to come."

Her fists clench. "Thalia is an archer."

"She will join them later. I must share words with her." Kronos finally turns to her, unamused to find her still standing in the same spot. "Go."

Metis doesn't fight him. It's a lost battle anyway, especially when her opponent is a Titan who had proclaimed himself king of the cosmos. And if she knows anything, it's how to pick her battles.

With a crisp, minor bow of her head, she ducks out the door, slamming it behind her.

Thalia scoffs but her eyes still hint more towards playfulness. "You didn't have to send her away. I would have gone."

"No, you wouldn't have." He smirks, rather confident in his hypothesis. "You want something."

"You don't know that." Smoothly, Thalia hops up on the edge of the table, feet dangling above the cool marble floor.

"Oh, I do. We wouldn't be in this predicament if I didn't." Naturally, he gravitates closer towards her, especially with no onlookers snapping at him to pay mind to the war at hand. Even someone like the Titan Lord seeks out distractions from time to time.

"Point taken." Nonchalantly, she kicks her shoes off. "Though I don't see you refusing me, now do I?"

Kronos crosses his arm over his chest. "I am attempting to keep an open mind."

"Are you?" She strips herself of her shirt, and the motion seems as easy as breathing. So careless. She slips off her belt just as easily.

"We need to talk."

Thalia raises an eyebrow. "Isn't that what we're doing?"

His face doesn't lighten. Instead, he holds out his arm to her, revealing the giant jagged scar stretching from his wrist to the inner part of his elbow. "Your previous expedition came at a very great expense to me."

Thalia sighs, glancing at the runes running along the surface of her own forearm.

They had glowed vigorously as she kept the storm pulsing and raging through Sausalito, as she jumped through the glass ceiling in the restaurant and immediately healed any wounds associated with such a fall. But that should have been the end of that. She should have shut it off but couldn't bring herself to do so, not when her daughter's life depended on Thalia succeeding in any and every mission assigned to her. "It's not my fault. You're the one who opened the link."

"But not for you to take advantage of," he retorts.

Her eyes darken. "If it's a two-way street, Kronos, do you really expect me to walk on one side?"

Oh, it truly was sickening, the way she had shocked her brother into unconsciousness. Then came pride, when she had been quick enough to dodge Percy's blows (maybe she hadn't exactly defeated him fair and square with a sword in hand but beggars can't be choosers). None of it would have been possible without the addictive rush in her veins that was more than adrenaline. It had been pure power and by all the gods she might give anything to feel that way again. Powerful and deadly, not the helpless little girl she had been cowering in the hallways of Othrys.

At least, that was until she had realized most of this power she sapped straight from the Titan Lord that had tormented her in the first place.

"Besides," Thalia continues, "I thwarted the rebel scouts in Sausalito. It's exactly what you wanted. So why does it matter if I do it again or not?"

Oh, but she knows the answer to that already. Something else is draining his power but she just doesn't know what.

His jaw clenches. "Don't let it happen again, Thalia Grace."

She tries to hide the smile on her face, relieved that he's let the issue drop and that it may or may not have to do with her lack of a shirt. Thalia changes the subject. "I will never understand why you enjoy saying my last name so much."

"Because it bothers you," he admits, the smallest of smiles tugging at the corner of his lips. Out of the clear.

"Then consider us even."

His eyes narrow. "Well," Kronos prompts, "aren't you going to tell me what you want?"

"No. There'd be no fun in that, now would there?" She holds out her leg to him. Thalia pouts. "Grab the cuff?"

"Do you want me to guess?" he muses – just this once – doing as she asks.

"You can do whatever you want. You're the Titan Lord, my king, aren't you?" She draws her leg back and the jeans come off in less trouble than he had initially expected. She unsheathes her other leg, and the clothes drop to the floor, immediately forgotten.

"You're playing a very fine line here, Thalia." Though his words ring hollow, void of any warning that they should evoke.

"Perhaps," Thalia concedes. She cocks her head, still amused. "But we both know you're enjoying this, so why pretend?

He ignores her. "You want Elpis back?"

She rolls her eyes, clearly annoyed that he's decided to guess anyway. "Not what I had in mind. But if you're offering…"

"You want me to take you off the front lines?"

"Not necessarily." Thalia reaches for the clasp of her bra but Kronos stops her. It doesn't escape her notice that his eyes linger a little too long on her breasts. Though he hates mortal clothes, Kronos will never admit that he likes this, a bra's ability to give off the illusion of breasts that are rounder than they actually are. A mundane illusion Thalia doesn't mind taking advantage of every now and then.

"You want to cut your hair?" he tries again, his tone bearing the slightest hints of frustration.

Thalia almost giggles. "You'd never humor the idea. We both know it would be a wasted thought."

He exhales swiftly through his nose. "You've certainly made things interesting, haven't you?"

"Let's cut straight to it then: you know I'm trying to manipulate you…"

"Keyword: trying," he interjects.

"…And I know the only reason you're entertaining any of this is because it might fit into your agenda, whatever that may be. So, should we make a wager?"

"We should," Kronos agrees, his voice dropping lower. "Finish this game, Thalia Grace. Should I be pleased with the results, I will consider your request… whatever it may be."

She finally remembers, as Kronos fingers brush against her collarbone, what he had said on the beach at the Battery so many years ago: Thalia Grace, a pretty name that's also a joke.

She only smiles and says nothing. Thalia feels his grip on her shoulder and she's pulled closer, into a kiss perhaps, but Thalia turns her head at the last minute. A wicked little beast, she comes to whisper in his ear instead, "You'll grant it to me."

Kronos doesn't turn to look at her. "I'll consider it," he repeats, sterner this time. His hand slips beneath the waistband of her underwear. "After all, you said it yourself. I need to see if it fits into my agenda."

And at the moment his agenda calls for a distraction. One Thalia is more than happy to provide, assuming she gets what she wants in the end.

The wife of Kronos lets out a sharp laugh as his fingers nestle in between her thighs. "Fair enough."

"He's gone."

The only two words Reyna has to utter. The first words Annabeth hears when she returns. Annabeth doesn't even have to say a word; the Roman girl – strange as she's always been – embraces her. Then it's straight to battle plans.

She vomits twice that night. Anxiety doesn't let her get an ounce of sleep the first night. The second day, she hardly wakes up at all, not when the nightmares practically have her paralyzed.

The screams are deafening.

Monsters overrun a rocky shore, stepping all over the broken bodies of her comrades – her friends. All their blood paints the bay a horrifying shade of red. Even still she finds more of her soldiers in the water, their fear permeable in the air as they struggle to escape, struggle to stay afloat with all the armor weighing them down. They'll meet their demise soon enough.

She feels a hand slam down on her shoulder. Annabeth whirls, ready to scream, ready to cut, only to come face-to-face with a three headed goddess. She knows her.

Hecate.

The knife slips from Annabeth's grip as the goddess cups her face. The cold sensation slithering in her gut is the same Annabeth might get if an angry bear was sniffing her face, deciding whether or not to maul the living daylights out of her.

"Choose wisely," Hecate says with a sharp smile. "Many a hero has made a wrong turn at the crossroads. You don't want to be responsible for all this, do you?"

No. No I don't.

But it's out of her hands. The army moves full steam ahead at Athena's insistence.

"We can't stop moving because two demigods have gone missing," she tells her daughter when Annabeth attempts to convince her to stay just a little bit longer. "We have a war to win!"

But it's not just about two missing demigods. This is a sign.

It's Annabeth's idea to stage a council meeting before moving forward, not just her and Athena, but Reyna, Bianca Di Angelo, Michael Yew, Will Solace, Theia, Zoe Nightshade and Clarisse. She would have invited Luke too if they hadn't given her funny looks at the suggestion. She can't forget what he's done – no one ever ceases to remind her – but he was her friend and confidant long before Kronos was even a whisper on her lips.

She should have invited him anyway. At least then they could have all been unified in their hatred of him rather than their hatred for each other, which becomes extremely apparent when Annabeth breeches the subject of Percy and Nico and the decisive decision of whether to send more scouts after them.

It's a brief war council, considering it ends with a tearful Bianca storming out in a fit of rage. To that, Reyna and Clarisse – who almost never see eye-to-eye even in times of peace – say simultaneously, "Good riddance."

The vote commences. The move to march wins, 5 to 4, despite a nervous Theia whose only words are "his army is marching too" and nothing more. The Titaness doesn't know what they're planning, thanks to Koios and another unidentified immortal whose careful enough to always remain a step ahead of her.

A week of panic comes and goes. Things keep moving at a steady, breakneck pace and she just wants it all to stop. She wants to collect herself, to fucking breathe and come to terms with all that's happened. But time waits for no man. Kronos has seen to that.

The army itself splits in half; after the meeting, Bianca's cooperation becomes as strained as it's ever been and she refuses to cross the forces of Elysium over the Golden Gate Bridge. Giving up, knowing that Nico is no longer here to help out in these diplomatic issues, Annabeth leaves them to guard San Francisco.

The rest continue their march to Fort Baker, just east of the bridge's north end. From there, as a compromise to keep Annabeth sane, they send search parties. It's too late, of course. The trail has gone cold and the volunteers they dispatch return just as empty-handed as when they had left. Enough time has passed that it's more than clear Percy and Nico aren't coming back.

Another week passes before the messenger arrives.

Ironically, bright and early, it's the ghost of the runner Pheidippides that greets them by the early morning – the same guy who had ran all the way to Athens after their soldiers had won the Battle of Marathon against the Persians to tell the city of the good news, only to die shortly afterwards from the pure exhaustion of running 26 miles.

Despite the wide smile on his face, the news is most certainly terrible: the Titan Army has seized the Golden Gate Bridge.

"So you mean to say we've been cut off from each other?" Annabeth retorts with gritted teeth.

His smile doesn't falter. "That is exactly right."

Cue yet another panic attack.

Annabeth pours over more battle plans. Very rarely is she seen without a cup of black coffee in hand, always mixed with just a drop of nectar to keep pure exhaustion from straight up killing her (just as it had done to Pheidippides). Meals also become far and few in between.

It's not long before she divides up the troops. By the following morning, half of their soldiers – Romans led by Reyna and the Greeks by Clarisse – have their orders to march back to San Francisco and maybe catch the enemy right on their ass.

The rest, mostly their injured counterparts but Annabeth also, are forced to stay.

Jason, of course, complains bitterly. "I should be leading them," he tells her, despite his arm in a sling and the slight static in his blond hair that doesn't seem like it will let up anytime soon.

Annabeth glowers at him, and simply just turns Jason back in the direction of the infirmary. "You're not going anywhere until the side effects wear off. At this point, you're only good for attracting magnets."

And at this point, the only thing her half of the army is good for is monster fodder. Her dream – featuring Hecate and more dead soldiers – tell her the same thing as soon as the Reyna and Clarisse's legions depart for San Francisco. Only this time the soldiers have faces: Will Solace, Jason, Wu Huie, Rafael, Clarisse, Reyna, Calypso, Rachel Dare, Luke… all of them.

"You don't want to be responsible for all this do you?"

Finally, something clicks.

It's a trap.

The sun isn't even up when Annabeth dashes out of her tent, fuck sleep, fuck pants, fuck anything that doesn't have to do with her frantic journey to a big white building inscribed with a number one.

She bursts into Athena's temporary office, undeterred by the sight of Dionysus and Mercury lounging on comfortable leather couches.

"We're leaving."

Athena, seated behind a long desk befitting some sort of high-ranking general, raises an eyebrow. "We're doing what?"

Proudly, Annabeth lifts her chin up a little more, straightening her arms at her side. "You heard me."

The goddess glowers. "Annabeth—"

"No. You're going to listen to me this time." That's enough to earn anyone else instant disintegration but Annabeth just isn't like anyone else.

It's a little difficult connecting her wily thought process into words, but somehow she manages it, going at great lengths to describe all the intersecting pieces: Percy and Nico gone, their ability to make it to Fort Baker unchallenged, the surprise attack on the Golden Gate Bridge to occupy the attention of the Elysians while also drawing back soldiers to hold the city and its only point of exit. Those left behind – Annabeth and the quarter of the army composed of mostly injured combatants – to be sitting ducks for a separate Titan attack. In fact, she wouldn't even find it surprising if the Titans had begun to corner them off in this very moment, ready to eliminate her and her soldiers at Kronos's command.

"No one is in any condition to fight off whatever is coming our way," Annabeth finishes. "We have to retreat back to Angel Island."

Mercury snorts. "We're miles away by sea. How do you propose the army learns to walk on water back to New Delos?"

Dionysus raises his hand but Annabeth cuts him off, having anticipated this question as soon as she walked in here. "We've had Leo Valdez testing out the supply ships. Oceanus hasn't destroyed any yet" – whether he's adopted yet another neutral standpoint in this war, no one is entirely sure – "and we've been successful in supplying our forces in San Francisco with fresh weapons from the forges on Angel Island. We send Leo an Iris message to reroute them and, instead of bringing us supplies, he gets us the hell out of here."

That doesn't settle too well with Mercury, whose grip tightens on the pommel of the sword strapped to his waist. "We didn't come all the way out here to retreat."

"Then think of it as the army regrouping," Annabeth says immediately, completely undeterred. "You arguably have more children in the demigod ranks than anyone else here. Think about Connor and Bobby. Do you really want to lose any more?"

He can't exactly meet her eyes and she isn't pleased by it in the slightest. It's a low blow but desperate times call for desperate measures.

"Are you sure about this?" says Athena.

"No, I'm not," Annabeth admits. Haven't been sure since Percy's disappeared. She turns away from them, stalking back down the corridor. "But I'm done trying to please everyone."

She continues through the motions to get her plan enacted. Leo gets their message and it takes two days for the ships to return to Angel Island from San Francisco and get promptly shipped to Fort Baker. By midday they arrive in Caballo Harbor and the weary soldiers – Annabeth as well – rejoice.

She spends the rest of the day with Leo Valdez and Will Solace, plotting how many boats can hold their injured comrades while making the journey as smooth as possible. No hiccups. Estimated departure is set for the morning, bright an early.

Thank the gods.

By nightfall, Annabeth skips dinner in the fort's mess hall. There are too many thoughts buzzing around in her head, too much tension in her shoulders to possibly ignore.

She grabs a spare sword. It feels strange in her hand; now that Annabeth recalls, she hasn't wielded one in ages.

Annabeth performs her first strike on a skinny tree to serve as her practice dummy. Vaguely, she can hear an imaginary Luke brutally criticizing her form. She doesn't need him here physically; ever the perfectionist, Annabeth is her own worst critic.

After several tries, she establishes a sort of rhythm and she actually slashes the tree hard enough to cut through the bark's tough outer layer. Annabeth channels all her pent up rage into it.

An hour soon turns into three.

And now, with no witnesses around to see, the tears slip down her cheeks. First a drop and then a waterfall. Once alone, Annabeth finally, finally, grieves for her stupid Seaweed Brain that's gone and left her all alone to deal with the fallout, the fiasco. Again.

Eventually, the sword feels heavy in her hand and she collapses to her knees.

You promised not to leave, she mouths wordlessly, the sobs trapped in her throat even though she wants to scream. But I should know better.

Because they all abandon her eventually: her father, Percy, Thalia…

"You should be asleep."

She whips around.

Luke. Of course Luke. She tries to wipe the tears from her face as quickly as she can before she turns around to face him, but he notices anyway and sighs. "Oh, Annabeth."

The words come from tumbling from her mouth, less refined than anything she's managed to utter in weeks of back to back meetings. "He left me. I… I never even got to say—"

Luke cups her shoulder, his face entirely serious as he says, "I know."

"Do you?" she retorts.

Luke smiles sadly. With little thought, he embraces her. "More than you'll ever know."

The hug is a little awkward to say the least. She's never been the hugging kind and neither has he but Annabeth appreciates the effort.

She takes a deep breath, trying to calm herself. "The worst part is that Calypso warned me it would happen. I didn't want to believe her. I—" Annabeth closes her eyes and when she speaks again her voice cracks. "I don't know what to do anymore, Luke. Everyone always thinks I have the answer to… everything. Percy and Nico's disappearance. The stupid siege on the bridge. Their army's erratic movements. But I don't. And they're starting to notice. I don't think I can keep this together, especially not after this. Not after Percy—"

Luke looks at her, disbelieving. "He's not dead yet, Annabeth. We can hope—"

"Hope? You're joking." It sounds a lot crueler when spoken aloud but Annabeth's basic worldview has been reduced to unadulterated cynicism and she hates herself every day for it.

A pained expression flits across his face. "Thalia…"

"Is the one that took him in the first place, or so you've reported. Whatever the case, you know she wouldn't be able to help Percy and Nico once Kronos has them in his grasp."

He averts his eyes. "I have faith in her."

"Which makes you a fool."

"Maybe," he says, shoving his hands in his pocket. Luke appears relatively defeated now, much to Annabeth's dismay, and she almost thinks that's the end of that. But she's wrong.

Luke doesn't look at her. His gaze turns towards the sky above, as if Thalia herself would drop down from it at any moment. "Do you know what it was like being there? There was that terrible storm that just… appeared out of nowhere and I just knew. She was so close to me, Annabeth, that I could practically taste the ozone in my mouth."

His tone reeks of utter self-loathing. She wants to reach out, to comfort him this time, but then he's smiling again and she hesitates.

"Please get some sleep, Annabeth. I know it's hard but just do it for a poor fool like me, yeah?"

It's true that everyone does leave Annabeth behind. But she supposes they do – as much as they can – try to come back.

When she tucks in for bed that night she feels as if a minor weight has been moved off her shoulders. Her other stressors are still there, ready to collapse on her body any moment now but at least it's a start. At least she can hope for the chance of a good night's sleep.

But that's wishful thinking.

In the middle of the night, someone bursts into her tent. At the intrusion, she fingers her knife immediately, ready to kill, only to realize it's just Wu Huie from Janus.

"What happened?" she asks over his series of pants.

"The tents are on fire!" he gasps out.

She bolts up from her mat, knife still firmly in her grasp. Annabeth storms out, Wu running right behind her. "For Zeus's sake, you guys can't even get yourselves together while I—"

Annabeth hears the screams and Wu points up at the sky. "I don't think this was exactly an accident."

It's a volley of pure light that shoots out from the forested hills surrounding the fort. But as soon as it bears down on them, she sees them for what they actually are: lit arrows.

They don't do much damage. Only a handful of people are actually hurt, only a dozen tents actually catch fire. But Annabeth knows the true intention behind this: a perfect tactic to cause mass panic. The perfect signal just before a devastating attack.

A calm settles over her. "Okay." For the love of Chaos, why did I expect anything different? "Find Will Solace. We need to move."

"Move where?" Wu retorts. "If you haven't noticed, there's a giant gaping ocean right behind us and we can't exactly swim in heavy armor if you catch my drift."

Annabeth understands quite clearly but her expressionless face doesn't change. She's made the necessary preparations, and now she has to believe that she can see them through. "We need to get on the boats. We need to get out of here or they're going to slaughter us."

They illuminate the night sky in a shower of bright orange. At first, she watches the panicked rebel soldiers spread out across Fort Baker like ants at the initial wave of arrows. But the panic doesn't last as long as Thalia would have liked it too.

From her vantage point on the hills, she can clearly witness the organization trumping the chaos. Predetermined groups flee to the boats on the shore, others roll out large barrels, while a few break off to put out the stray fires.

Thalia rolls her eyes. Of course they're prepared. Annabeth is always prepared.

"Greek fire is always their first line of defense." It had been her first line of defense too, she remembers, when Thalia was forced to face Kronos at the Battery Kirby. True and said, the barrels detonate. Green flames lick over the fort's east end, a sure deterrent for any sort of linear formations that could attempt to march forward and storm the battlements.

She turns to the comrade by her side. "They may be weak now but they will hold us out any moment they get. Drop the veil and get us inside the lines."

Alabaster, son of Hecate, tilts his head inquisitively. "Wouldn't it be more efficient to keep up with the invisibility rune?"

"I don't want efficiency." She twists the run on her finger, once, twice. A black bow springs to life in her hands. "I want chaos."

Alabaster nods as she slings a newly appeared quiver over her back. "As you wish." He holds out his hand to her, a smirk on his face. "After you, my lady."

She regards him carefully, eyes specifically lingering on the green runes scattered all across his black armor. "Nothing will fry me?"

"You? Never."

"Fine." Thalia grabs his hand. "There, physical contact. Now don't go falling in love with me."

His hands are warmer than she expected, but not unbearable. Mortal, so entirely mortal. He's no god, but just like her, only he willingly sided with the Titans. He's not vindictive, or sadistic, or entitled. Alabaster, like many other demigod soldiers in both the Titan and Rebellion regimes, believe they're good guys. To them, Kronos is a godsend compared to the dreaded Olympians, his wrongdoings to conveniently be shoved under the rug.

Thalia sighs.

And when Alabaster laughs at her, it makes him even seem more normal.

They melt out of the shadows, and there's a nostalgic pain in her chest for a certain son of Hades currently rotting under Mount Othrys.

Alabaster confuses this for hesitance. "You know what you have to do," he murmurs, all emotion leeching out of his face. "Kronos will be watching tonight."

"You're mistaken, Mr. Torrington." Her eyes harden and she can tell the son of Hecate finds her glare completely unnerving. She releases his hand, but her middle finger brushes the palm of his painfully slow. "Kronos is always watching."

He leaves her there on the roof and Thalia glances up towards the night sky. It isn't long before swirling thunder clouds blanket the sky, blotting out all traces of the graceful full moon.

I'm sorry Artemis.

Thalia doesn't remain alone for too long. Other children of Hecate land on the roof, bringing with them a few more archers from the hill and the rest to keep up their offensive line in the trees.

Thalia joins them quickly but remains relatively aloof instead of striking up conversation. Her eyes drift over the characteristics of their vantage point: the red-tiled roofs of the fort's five or six white buildings. The spaces between them aren't so drastic as to prevent jumping back and forth between the slanted roofs, which could provide them with much needed cover. But the actual jump itself, sticking the landing without losing balance and falling off, might prove difficult.

Nothing, of course, that she can't handle.

The ground beneath them shakes a bit when more barrels of Greek fire are lit, thoroughly encasing the fort and Caballo Bay in a protective bubble. Thalia isn't in the least bit surprised.

The enemy archers take up their positions.

"LOOSE!" one shouts and they target the rebel soldiers attempting to retreat after having placed the barrier up.

Outside the ring of fire, the invisible veil disintegrates, just as Alabaster had promised. Dark shapes appear out of the shadowy trees and charge down the hill: baying hellhounds, spitting drakanae and empousa, stomping fire giants. Far too many for the weak Rebellion contingent to challenge.

Though, to Thalia's great disappointment, none of her monsters can fly. She had warned Atlas not to hog all of the drakons to himself in his attack on the bridge but if there's anyone he's apt to listen to, it isn't her. Not that it matters.

Her hand flicks up towards the sky, cuing a ripple of lightning, the sound of thunder quick to follow. Only a matter of time before the rain and wind hits, disrupting the rings of fire, and soon to make this victory an easy one.

"Rain, rain, go away, come again another day."

Her eyes snap to the ground below. She sees nothing.

"Rain, rain, go away, come again another day."

Thalia whirls around to face the building behind her, gaze honing in on an open second-floor window. Lingering in the shadows, she spots the gangly figure of Orpheus. His eyes appear to be smiling as he strums another note on his lyre, one that seems to drain the very energy out of her being. Her desire to sleep becomes overwhelming.

"Rain, rain, go away, come again another day."

Thalia glances back at the sky. As if he'd pressed a rewind button, her storm clouds slowly dissipate off the horizon. She wills them to return only to be blatantly ignored. Thalia turns back to the open window, only to realize that Orpheus has disappeared. Though gone, she can still hear his obnoxious singing from somewhere far off: "Rain, rain, go away. Come again another day."

There will be no storm cover this night. Damn him. For all she knows, he could sing Old MacDonald Had a Farm and Thalia would be convinced that she was a fucking cow for crying out loud.

Outside the ring of fire, the front lines stop in their tracks. A few brave monsters test the defenses but it holds true, leaving them with no way in. The archers left on the hill shoot another wave of arrows across the fort but, once again, they don't hit a tremendous amount of targets. It's now up to Thalia and her archers that have made it inside the barrier.

She orders them to keep firing.

At the docks, the injured continue scramble onto Leo's ships at Annabeth's insistence. Luke, at her bidding, takes to rounding up any abled body soldiers should the barrier fail. Really, only time will tell if they make it out of here alive. And one thing is most certainly clear: time is not on their side.

In this, Zoe Nightshade's brief boredom comes to an end. At the behest of Annabeth, Zoe and her fellow Constellations – minus the Dioscuri who had been left on Angel Island to guard the gods – had remained at Fort Baker precisely for this moment, as opposed to running off with Reyna and Clarisse's soldiers to reclaim the Golden Gate Bridge. Thank Gaia for that.

The Apollo children gather up. From behind the line of ruined tents, they begin their onslaught, returning volley after volley of arrows back at the Titan archers, thoroughly drawing away their attention. The demigods press forward.

The Constellations, on the other hand, scurry through the parking lot-turned-battlefield riddled with bodies. From the corner of the white building, Orpheus ushers them forward. With their focus elsewhere, the Titan archers atop the roof fail to notice them.

They slip inside, undetected for the most part. That is, until Thalia senses something isn't quite right.

"Wait!" Thalia shouts. Despite being cut off from the bulk of the Titan army and having much of her energy sapped by Orpheus's incessant singing, the Titan archers are far from losing. But she also knows better than to assume that they will win. She also most certainly knows that the Apollo children's obvious, head-on attack could be just a ruse.

From the corner of her eye, she spots a shadow on the ground but it disappears upon second glance. However, as an ex-Hunter, Thalia is as mistrusting as ever. She once again turns to the building behind her, staring at the open window she had seen Orpheus through. Half of her archers follow her gaze, the rest still focused on the approaching demigod archers.

It remains a waiting game until she sees a flash of silver.

"Aim for the windows!"

They do, but the Hunters beat them to the punchline. The rest of the windows shatter open and a stream of silver arrows fly at the Titan archers. Thalia panics and ducks but three of her own comrades aren't so lucky.

"Don't let them get to the roof!" she shouts, but no one knows exactly who they should be firing at with enemies both in front of them and behind.

By the time Thalia once again has her bow in hand and her archers have processed her words, it's too late. A familiar, camo-clad figure joins them atop the building.

Zoe Nightshade.

Thalia practically screams at them to do something but they're better at hitting tiles than anything else. Zoe reaches into her boot and Thalia already knows what she's about to do.

"Get clear!"

Thank fucking Chaos himself they actually listen to her this time. Gleaming knives fly from the huntress's hands but they whip through the air harmlessly. Zoe is joined by more of her comrades as the rest of the rebel archers find their way to the roof: Orion, Callisto, Atalanta, Will Solace and a handful of other Apollo children.

She curses herself, realizing she's forgotten to cover her face but, at this point, she can't bring herself to care. As expected, the Apollo children hesitate. They know her. The Constellations also seem a little shaken but that doesn't halt their nimble fingers. One Hunter, especially, isn't at all fazed.

Orion locks his blank stare on her.

Thalia's eyes narrow.

She looses two arrows in quick succession but he deflects them with his own just as easily, a third already nocked before she reaches for hers. The arrow whirls through the air, aimed for the space between her eyes, and it's hard not to take this all personally, considering she's the one that brought him to life.

Thalia dives backward as the arrowhead cuts the side of her face. Her allies come to her defense, pushing the Hunter back.

"Move!" she barks at them, absolutely furious. Their attention turns to the other rebel soldiers.

She snatches the silver arrows embedded in the red-tiled roof. Thalia takes a knee, bowstring to the edge of her eye, and releases.

Nothing sticks to him and by all the gods she swears Orion smiles.

No more games.

But before she can continue on with the rivalry, a heavy wave of arrows – as the rebels regain themselves – draws her back once more. Sweat sticking to her face, she conjures up only enough lightning to shoot them down despite Orpheus's continuous singing from whatever unknown destination. It takes a considerable amount of energy – which she isn't used to expending – and Thalia knows she won't be able to do it again.

None of her comrades thank her.

Help me, Thalia snaps wordlessly, eyes lingering on the runes on her forearm that are black as the night. Thalia knows he won't hear her command, even though she's always expected to hear his.

From her quiver she pulls out an arrow marked with a yellow band, deciding that she is no longer in the mood for games.

The arrowhead explodes on impact, shearing off a portion of the roof. In light of the roof's smoldering remains, her former silver-footed friends disappear from view.

Thalia's frown deepens and she knows it couldn't have been that easy. And it isn't, rightfully so.

Five arrows rush out of the smoke. She deflects one with her bow, dodges two, and another finds its way into a comrade's throat.

Rage swells in her veins. She holds another yellow-banded arrow to her bow, past allegiances fading from the forefront of her thoughts. None of it matters anymore.

She releases.

Zoe Nightshade, this time, has the honor of shooting the dreaded thing down but a little too close to the barrier. A heartbeat later the sizable explosion makes a nice dent in the ground, thoroughly ruining Annabeth's defensive line.

Fight fire with fire. Thalia grins.

Orion seems mildly disappointed in Zoe. He releases yet another arrow Thalia's way but it skids across the roof.

Chaos does erupt this time. The hellhounds swarm through the gap in the wall of fire, drakanae legions following close behind them. Seeing this, Luke's gathered soldiers on the ground rush into further stall the horde. But their efforts seem like a lost cause; there are too many rebels that haven't even made it on the boats yet.

Momentarily, the skirmish on the building tops seems forgotten, as both teams of archers focus on assisting their perspective armies.

Atalanta wastes no time in deploying herself on the ground to help the desperate soldiers, leaving her fellow Constellations to man the roofs with the abled children of Apollo.

"On your right," Callisto says to no one in particular.

"Done." No one turns their head and Zoe's arrow finds its way into a hellhound's throat. The victory is short-lived, her eyes already locked onto multiple targets flooding in through the barrier.

"You're left," she tells Callisto in return. A Titan archer falls at the she-bear's behest.

Soon Orion takes part and they work like a well-oiled machine, all of them having spent centuries under Artemis's command.

"Right."

"Done."

"Left."

"Done."

"Nock—"

"Loosened."

"Straight ahead."

"Done."

"Cover Atalanta."

"Understood."

The nearby Apollo children stare at the ex-Hunters as if they're absolutely insane but, considering they've spent the better part of their lives trapped in the stars, they might as well be.

Whatever their strange organization, it works: their marks hit true. Swarms of monsters fall by their hands but it's not enough. Number of arrows is what wins wars, not the talented archers themselves. And it's arrows they're soon to run out of.

Both sides know this, and it's perhaps why they decide to turn on each once again, deciding they might as well use the last of their supply on the threat coming from above.

"Empty," Callisto growls.

Zoe shoots her a look, for when the first person runs out the rest are soon to follow.

"Same here!" Will Solace shouts over yet another explosive arrow that shakes the ground beneath their feet. His siblings mumble their agreements, snatching a few of the enemy's arrows pinned to the rooftop but it's not nearly enough to subsist on.

Zoe Nightshade herself fingers the final arrow from her quiver.

"There." She jumps at the sound of Orion's voice from behind her. She knows exactly who he's staring at: Thalia Grace, the top of her head barely visible from the other side of the slanted roof. For even the visually impaired Orion, tracking the source of the explosive arrows is far from impossible.

Zoe's teeth grit together. "I know."

She becomes acutely aware of the silver sweat piling beneath her underarms, the slight tremor in her tired arms, the twitch in her dried and cracked fingers. Zoe doesn't want this but she understands she has no choice in the matter.

She releases.

But, with the slight turn of Thalia's head, Zoe's shot misses. The daughter of Zeus returns fire and both Hunters duck.

Orion makes a disapproving growl. "You're better than this."

Zoe only sighs.

He purses his lips, staring across at the expanse separating the opposing lines of warriors. Thalia is no longer occupying the same space, directing her full attention on the Apollo children not too far from them. "She moves quickly."

"She's one of us," Zoe murmurs.

"Was one of us," he corrects, pulling two arrows out from his quiver and placing it in Zoe's waiting hands.

"You saw her on Mount Othrys. She bore us no ill will; she was the one to resurrect us."

He laughs, the sound dark and jarring. "And how many times do you think Thalia's gracious husband beat her to rid said defiance from her veins? Her kindness bears a high cost, I assure you."

"You truly are cruel at times."

"I thank you for being an excellent teacher," Orion laughs before they rejoin the battle.

Like Callisto, and Atalanta before her, some of the Apollo children also begin to remove themselves from the rooftops as the arrows whizzing through the air begin to drop in number. Now is the time to join the fray below or make for a swift retreat.

"I am out of arrows," Zoe finds herself uttering. Though it is with great satisfaction that she notices the Titan archers facing the same difficulty. Only Thalia appears to have no such qualms, her supply seemingly endless.

"And you are surprised, Zoe?" Orion continues when he catches Zoe staring at her old friend across the battlefield. "For it seems when Thalia Grace is on the prowl you cannot hit straight."

The storm of arrows thins even further, until all that remains to the rebels is one, firmly in Orion's grip.

Zoe raises an eyebrow. "Your proposal then?"

He smirks. "Leave it to me."

They dodge more projectiles from Titan archers, Orion waiting for the precise moment Thalia returns to the battle below to continue her onslaught there.

And when she does, there is no hesitation on his part. "Move," he orders. "We must get closer."

"Where?" Zoe asks, even though she should know the answer. Will – who has decided to remain with them – wastes no time, plowing on ahead across the rooftop and jumping to the next.

"Solace!" she snaps as the graceful Orion trails just behind him, final arrow and metal bow still firm in his grip.

They dodge more arrows in their path, finally stepping foot on the enemy's vantage point. Once spotted, the enemy archers are quick to pull out their knives. But Zoe Nightshade is also quick on the draw and she slices into two traitor demigods before her gaze once again turns to Orion.

"Find whatever spare arrows you can," he commands. He takes a knee, carefully nocking his last arrow. "Keep them on hand; do not fire them unless necessary or until I tell you to."

An exasperated Will Solace blows blond hairs away from his face. "I' don't understand. You're an archer but you're blind."

"Partially," Orion corrects. "For what it is worth, I used to be much better."

Zoe nods in agreement. Though Orion relies on touch and sound more than ever, the Hunter rarely misses his target once whatever little sight remains to him is set. And at this moment, she is fully aware of the person to which he is aiming at.

"We can't let her get away!" Will growls. "Not after she took Nico and Percy."

Zoe stands still by their side, completely silent, yet dark eyes transfixed on her comrade's face. He makes no intimation of noticing her gaze.

"You trained her well, my goddess," Orion murmurs to himself, ignoring them both. He draws the string back to the tip of his chin. "But not well enough."

He smiles.

It flashes like starlight.

Thalia senses it, twisting her body to dodge Orion's trajectory, but the arrow still cuts deep in the side of her abdomen. She loses balance and her fall is a hard one onto a lower roof.

Could be worse.

She forces herself to her feet, feeling the vibrations of something landing not too far away from her. Blindly, she lashes out, slamming straight into Orion's chest.

Clearly, with more upper body strength, he flings Thalia aside easily. She skitters on the roof and the tiles scrape into her forearms as she attempts to steady herself. On the bright side, she notices her abandoned bow just as Orion lunges for her again.

There's no time to scramble for her ring and will another weapon into being. She simply reaches and prays.

Her bow crashes against his temple and Thalia thanks every deity in existence that she doesn't have to worry about the tightly wrought string exploding on her. Kronos has made sure that it never undergoes wear and tear and it's currently her only saving grace.

Expertly, Orion rolls with the blow. He shakes off the pain, a little peeved but all the more determined now. A look she thoroughly hates on him.

She rips an arrow from her quiver, nocks and releases before Orion can make his next move. But unexpectedly, her shot goes wide, sliding right past him, skipping off the roof, and bounding into the night. She nocks another one, misses again, and Orion takes his chance. She sees the flash of silver in the palm of his hand.

Knife.

Her bow once again taking its second round of abuse, she hits it in midair. Thalia, of course, doesn't pay attention to the second knife, and namely the Hunter wielding it.

A fist smashes across her face and her vision goes white. She collapses. Her hand moves instinctively, narrowly catching Orion's wrist and the blade just short of tearing her throat in two.

Grunting, Orion's weight pressed on top of her, Thalia takes the only option available to her: her forehead cracks against the Hunter's nose. Blood sprays across her cheeks and the Hunter's grip loosens. Ripping the knife from his grasp, Thalia slashes at his bloody face.

Orion jumps back to his feet, dodging each and every blow with nothing but pure instinct. And Thalia roars as if possessed – not by a demon, no – but fresh, immeasurable rage.

"I don't want to hurt you, Thalia," he says through gritted teeth. "But let it be known, the Rebellion is my first priority and I will have no qualms splitting open your skull."

She almost laughs.

A silver knife blurs out from the darkness. It sticks nicely in the palm of her hand and Thalia screams. She rips the blade out despite the unbearable pain and brandishes it again. Two hands, two knives; in theory, she should thank him.

Orion smiles. Slicked back with drying blood, his long hair no longer hides those pale irses and can seem them clearly now – mischievous as they always are – glinting in the moonlight. With the scars around his eyes, he seems positively alien.

Two more knives slip into the palm of Orion's hands. "You almost look like a Hunter again," he comments.

She doesn't respond to that. She can't. The old Thalia is worlds away and she isn't coming back. "Ready when you are," she sneers.

"Oh dear, haven't you noticed by now?" He twirls the knives in his hands, as if preparing for a fun sparing match. "Eyes are deceiving, Thalia Grace. I'm not the one you should be worried about."

There's no time to ask him what he means by that. One after the other, three arrows pierce her. One in her shoulder, one in her abdomen, and one in her thigh. A knife slips her grasp.

Thalia hisses as she snaps the shaft of the arrow in her thigh. Don't take it out, don't take it out. Gripping the arrow implanted in her abdomen, she teeters dangerously to one side.

Time slows as Orion charges her for the last time. One part of her braces for impact but, at the same time, she refuses to simply roll over and admit defeat. Not while Elpis still lives and not while she still has a weapon in hand.

Needless to say, it goes as expected. She manages to shove the blade between Orion's ribs. He pushes her in response.

Thalia flies backwards, the back of her head cracking against the roof, and she slides towards the precarious edge. Her fingers scramble to gain hold but she loses by a split second. Her bloody hands slip. Thalia hangs in open air for what seems like an eternity. Her body slams into the ground right side first, her shoulder bearing the brunt of the impact. She can't even scream.

Up and down the inside of her arm, the runes finally glow a brilliant shade of gold.

Fucking bastard.

Thalia tries to get up, her wounds easing with every moment that passes. But, Kronos's magic doesn't work as quickly as she would like it to. She reaches for her fallen bow, that is, until she feels the vibration of heavy footsteps barreling towards her. A pure force of nature slams into her and sends her flying once more.

Thalia lands, sprawled on her back, eyes up and honed in on the moon. In her peripheral vision, she spots Callisto's hulking figure.

Oh, Artemis.

Claws cut into her arm. Any and all healing properties immediately cease, but worst of all, pain sears into her, like flames licking at her skin.

Sweaty hands grab her by the arms and haul her to her feet. At this point, Thalia can hardly see as she realizes blood drips down into her eyes from a cut on her forehead. All she knows is that she's in pain and the people that have her do not belong to the Titan Army.

In the background, she can still hear Orpheus's beautiful singing, nullifying any and all last-ditch efforts to electrify them all to hell. Instead of a current, she feels a stream, specifically the blood leaving her body at an alarming rate.

"No!" Thalia screams and trashes. She finally manages to rotate the ring on her finger and it forms a short sword in her hand. But someone – Callisto, she's more than sure – crushes her wrist and the weapon slips from her grasp.

Too late.

Someone else knees her in the face. Black spots dance across Thalia's vision and she knows this is it. This is the end.