As it turned out, while Lauren had been speaking with Chiron in her room, Barton had been in a conference with Fury and the rest of the Avengers in his.

Lauren knocked on Barton's door to see what was taking him so long, and he invited her. Suffice it to say, Lauren was surprised to walk in and find Clint sitting on his bed—dressed in full, proper attire—facing a hologram the size of the entire bedroom wall.

The image was being projected out of a black, round object, about the size of Lauren's hand. She didn't know what to call it; it looked to be something the Hephaestus kids would create, but a bit flashier.

Frowning, she looked to Clint with a subtly raised eyebrow. He raised his hands on either side of his head and shrugged innocently. "Hey, it wasn't my idea. I didn't even know that they'd be calling this early."

"Yeah, me neither," Tony said. His voice was a bit crackly, an effect caused by the hologram, no doubt. He rubbed his eyes and feigned a yawn.

Beside him, Banner managed a small smile. "Agent Barton was just informing us of what's been happening recently."

"Actually, no," Tony cut in, "He was telling Fury. We just happened to be in the same room."

"Unfortunately so," said Fury, ducking his head and rubbing his face in an annoyed gesture. Lauren sympathized with him. She was just thankful that Clint was more disciplined than his friends.

"All you need to know is that we have not found the bane," she said. "At least, not yet—"

"But that's not what I want to know," he said, and Lauren scowled at having been interrupted. "Have you deciphered any other part of the Prophecy?"

"None that you haven't been informed of, I'm sure." Saying this, she cast a pointed look at Clint before returning Fury's indignant gaze. "Would you like for me to summarize everything for you, in case your memory is failing?"

His eye twitched. "For the sake of everyone else here, please."

"Holy shit," Lauren heard Tony mutter. "He said the magic word. Steve, did you hear that? He just—"

Whatever he was about to say next got caught in his throat, accompanied by a slight scuffling that seemed to be coming from beneath the table they were all sitting around.

Lauren rolled her eyes, but complied with the Director's wishes.

"Orion's bathed in the River Styx, which means that he is practically invincible," she explained. "He has allied with Khione, and Khione has allied with the Norse god Tyr, along with the Jotunns. He has also attached himself to the world tree, Yggdrasil. After four more nights, he will have universal knowledge, knowledge that he will undoubtedly use to eradicate the gods—whether it be Greek, Roman, or Aesir."

At this, Thor seemed to descend into an even fouler mood.

Lauren looked at him. "When the fighting begins, Odin has agreed to let three demigods and three gods into Asgard."

"The eldest children of the Big Three," said Fury, to which Lauren nodded.

After a short moment of hesitation, she decided to just come clean. "Also, Ethan may or may not be my full-blooded brother." It wasn't like such knowledge could be used against her. Brother or not, he was still a boy.

"How'd you figure that out?" Steve spoke up.

"Apollo came to us the other day, against the wishes of Lord Zeus," she replied. "He told me that we were related by someone other than him, though he did not specify."

Fury spoke up. "Agent Barton told us that you're going to hitch a ride to Crete. Is this true?"

"If by 'hitch a ride', you mean become stowaways, then yes, it is true."

"It's against the law, but you aren't on American soil anymore, so you have my approval."

"Clint, hey, buddy," Stark interjected. "I'd have picked you up, but that ice bitch ruined my ride. I swear, if I ever get to meet her, I'm gonna give her a piece of my mind. Maybe my number too, if she's as hot as everyone says she is—"

"I have spoken with Chiron," Lauren interrupted. "He agreed that the Avengers and perhaps a handful of S.H.I.E.L.D. representatives need to head down to Long Island Sound before the war begins."

"And why is that?" Fury said.

"Anyone who is going to participate in the battle need to have the Mist taken away from their eyes, otherwise you all will be going in blind. Literally."

The Director cast his one good eye on all of the people in the S.H.I.E.L.D. conference room with him, regarding them for a long moment. "They can go tomorrow," he told her. "Do you have any instructions?"

"Seeing as Stark can already see through the Mist, he should lead." (She did her best to ignore his childish fist pump.) "Mr. Stark, once you reach the top of the hill, do not step past the statue of Athena—unless you want to be attacked by our dragon, that is."

He shook his head. "Yeah, no. No stepping past the border."

"There will be demigods stationed there anyway. Tell them who you are, and that Lauren Brooks sent you. They will escort you past Peleus and directly to the Big House, where Chiron will be waiting. Hazel will arrive soon after, I predict. You won't be there for more than an hour, if luck persists. Just hope that the Fleece does not fluctuate during your time there; otherwise, you will be in for a very interesting afternoon."

Though she was still regarding Fury's contemplative face, in her peripheral vision, she was able to catch Banner mutter something to Agent Romanoff. It was impossible to hear what he was saying, but for both of their sakes, she hoped that it hadn't been anything negative about her.

She made it a point to keep her pointed gaze on him. Eventually, he noticed. When he did, he ducked his head and averted his gaze. Romanoff glanced at her and raised an eyebrow.

Lauren stared at them for a moment longer, before finally looking away.

"If that's all," Fury said, "I'd like everyone to get back to work now. Until next time, Miss Brooks, Agent Barton."

Lauren inclined her head just before the hologram retreated into the S.H.I.E.L.D. device. Huffing, Clint snatched it off the table and threw it into his bag. He then gazed at her with questioning eyes.

"Not going easy on Banner, huh?" he said. "You wanna see him in action that bad?"

Her lips turned up in an amused smile.

Breakfast was first on the priorities list. The waiter that served them was not the one that Lauren had a deep aversion for.

In much greater spirits than the previous day (though still very drained), Lauren ordered a hearty meal of pancakes glazed over with hazelnut, sprinkled with raspberries, and accompanied with a bowl of extra whipped cream. Barton ordered a pile of chocolate-banana pancakes.

After noticing the bags beneath each other's eyes, the both of them ordered mugs of steaming hot coffee.

Lauren's mouth watered when the waiter returned with their orders; she had not realized just how hungry she was.

She and Clint scarfed down their breakfast in silence. Despite the relative emptiness of the restaurant, she made sure to still keep a respectable manner about her, though it was a bit difficult given her famished state and how delicious the food was. Several times, she caught Barton staring at her, and more than thrice, she had almost snapped at him.

When their coffees were the only things left to finish, Clint broke the stillness.

"So how do you feel about this stowing away business?" he said, taking a slow sip of his drink. "I thought you'd be more bothered by it."

The corner of her lips turned up a bit. "I've broken the law many times before, Agent Barton," Lauren said, "More than I can possibly count. Demigods and the government aren't known to mix very well together."

"Care to cite an example?"

She thought for a moment. "Do you remember when Mount St. Helens erupted, before getting totally destroyed just a few days after?"

"Yeah."

"The first eruption was caused by Percy Jackson. The volcano's eventual obliteration was caused by Typhon escaping from underneath the mountain, where his cage was."

Clint's eyebrows furrowed together. "Fury suspected that it wasn't a natural occurrence. We just had no idea what could have caused something so big."

With a sigh, she said, "A lot of things happen that are actually caused by demigods. You should understand that they are accidents most of the time, because most demigods don't know the extent of the abilities until it's too late. And now, you understand my reluctance on telling Fury about our existence."

"Well, he may seem like a complete ass sometimes, but he's not merciless," Barton said, earning a scoff from Lauren. "He does what he does to protect the world. That's why he started the Avengers Initiative—because he couldn't do it alone. I'm sure that beneath that cold exterior of his, he's actually thankful that he found out about demigods."

Lauren frowned. "What makes you say that?"

"Now he knows S.H.I.E.L.D.'s not completely alone," he replied. "With protecting the world, I mean. Since humans can't see the monsters past the Mist, I think he's happy now knowing that there are people helping him with his job."

"It is not exactly our choice," she muttered. "We were born into the job. No matter how much any of us try to run, we always end up having to face the reality of it all. When we are facing a monster, it is either kill or be killed."

Clint then became uncharacteristically quiet; Lauren glanced up to find him staring at her with curious eyes.

"It is Chiron's first lesson to every demigod," she explained. "With the life we live, it is also perhaps the most important."

Finding a cruise ship was easy enough. There was one leaving in the late afternoon that day, so Lauren and Barton had ample time to pack up all their belongings and prepare for Crete.

In the end, there were three more hours left to kill, (though in two hours, the boat would arrive at the docks.) She suggested that they make a stop at the Parthenon. It would have been reconstructed by now, though not completely. Barton accepted her proposition.

Bringing their light baggage with them, they set off for the temple.

By that time of day, there were already several people out of their houses. Morning had passed, and it was time for work. But even so, the number of civilians roaming the streets was considerably low. The weather wasn't exactly perfect for taking leisure strolls.

It seemed that Chiron was right: Khione was biding her time, taunting them.

She had enveloped the entire city in a blizzard—not enough to be dangerous, but Lauren's parka was barely keeping her from turning into a human sculpture.

The locals weren't very suspicious of the snow, but soon they would be; snow occurrences weren't supposed to last for more than three consecutive days, and the ice in the waters were yet to thaw.

A group of street children ran past Lauren and Barton. They were playing chase, which Lauren knew was foolish of them.

One received his consequence when he tried turning a sharp corner whilst sprinting, resulting in him slipping on the moist pavement and landing on his side. He was able to keep his head from hitting the ground by bringing his arm up. There would be bruises there soon, though.

While Lauren was more than content with just walking past the boy, Barton had other ideas.

"Here," he said, offering a hand to the boy.

The boy looked more scared than confused. He stared at Barton's hand as if he was going to hit him with it. Lauren's heart clenched at the thought. Though the child before her was a male, he was still young—probably not even old enough to develop mature feelings such as love yet. And Lauren did not condone child abuse.

Barton looked down at the boy for a few long moments, his face neutral. And then he leaned further down and grabbed the boy's forearm by himself. He pulled him up with what seemed to be no effort at all. The boy was shaky on his feet at first, but then he gained his wits about himself.

Still wide-eyed, he stared at Clint. The agent clapped a hand on his shoulder, and Lauren noticed his knees buckle. She smothered a smile.

"You okay?" said Barton.

The street boy only stared.

Clint repeated himself, but it made no difference. He looked to Lauren with a raised eyebrow.

"The man is asking if you are hurt," she easily translated.

The boy shook his head.

"Then run along. And tell your friends to play something else."

To her surprise, the boy replied, and his voice still had a childish quality about it. "I am sorry for bothering you and your friend, missus," he said, and hearing such titles from him only confirmed her suspicions of him coming from a very strict household. "We are just not very used to the weather is all. It has never snowed so much here."

Lauren could sense that he wanted to say more, but he closed his mouth at the last second. The fright returned to his face, and his eyes flickered to the bronze sword hanging from Barton's waist.

Lauren's gaze shifted to the bronze sheath, in plain view, but no one had ever paid attention to it before. Most people would see it as just a rod, or a walking stick. The boy saw differently, and she knew why. Her eyes widened slightly.

Meanwhile, Barton remained in his confused state. His hand moved to rest on the hilt of the sword, eyebrows scrunching together.

The street boy immediately started backing away. "Please! Don't hurt me!"

"What's he saying?" Barton demanded.

Lauren swatted his hand away from the sword and raised one of her arms up in the air. She spoke quickly, "We aren't going to hurt you. Stay calm."

The boy vigorously shook his head. Before she could say more, he whirled around and started running away from them.

"Di immortales," Lauren said under her breath, frustrated as she swiped at her forehead.

"What the hell was that?" said Barton.

"He was able to see through the Mist," Lauren said. "He saw the sword and got the wrong impression."

It took him a moment to comprehend what she'd just said. "He was a demigod?"

"Yes." She sighed in exasperation. "Whatever satyr got stationed here, he is not doing a very good job of retrieving demigods."

"Should we go after him?"

She shook her head. "It is best if we don't. It is not our job, anyway."

"Doesn't he have that scent thing that Thor mentioned? Won't monsters be drawn to him?"

"They will, but he is capable of defending himself. Most of the time, a demigod becomes introduced to the world behind the Mist by being stalked or attacked by a monster… A baptism of fire, as Artemis would put it."

Agent Barton hummed in acknowledgement but said nothing more. Lauren's train of thought returned to the boy; she wondered how many other demigod children could have passed her by—for there were a fair amount of street children in Athens—and how many of them could be attacked by a monster.

Was it really right for her to leave them be, ignore their predicament, and let them wait for the satyrs to find them? By doing so, would any of them die? Would she then be faulted with allowing the ever-descending demigod population to go even lower?

Despite her previous confidence in her actions, Lauren could not help but to feel guilty. Years ago, she used to be the same as that street boy: lost, unsure, and afraid. When a satyr from Camp Half-Blood had come to her, she became even more so, but had gained some shred of dignity in knowing that she was meant for greater things.

"To be afraid is natural. It is one of the things that motivate us," Artemis had told her once—before the Hunters entered the fray in the War with Gaea, Lauren remembered. "But to let it take control, that is what leads to total obliteration."

Lauren had half a mind to relay those words to Chiron so that he could then say it to whatever new demigod stumbled into Camp. It would help if each demigod had the same bearings as the Hunters.

After a few more minutes of walking in companionable silence, the Parthenon finally came into view. Seeing its weathered state made Lauren nostalgic for reasons she couldn't comprehend. She had only ever seen the temple once before, and it had been in a worse state than it was in now.

Perhaps it was because, the last time Lauren had seen it, a large amount of the Hunters had still been alive. Thalia, Phoebe, Senna…

Shaking herself from her daze, Lauren turned to Barton to find a rather blasé look on his face. She didn't know whether to be amused or to be offended.

"Much of the gods' power can be found here," she offered, "even if it does not look like much."

"I can tell," he said, making her raise an eyebrow.

"How so?"

"I don't know… It just feels… weird—like you said, it has this aura about it that gives me the impression that it's… alive."

In sheer curiosity, she tilted her head. "And yet you seem unfazed. Why is that?"

"Oh no, I'm plenty impressed. This is my 'holy crap that is so cool' look. Can't you tell?" He looked at her with the same plain expression he always wore.

Lauren scoffed, lip curling up in amusement. As she looked ahead, she took a deep breath and allowed herself to soak in the view.

The Parthenon itself was weathered from all the years it had endured. The tall, marble pillars were chipped. Some were leaning the wrong way, and it was a miracle that the entire thing was still in one piece… more or less.

Heaps of white stone littered the ground surrounding the structure. Lauren knew that their reason for being there had been to discourage tourists from getting too close, but that plan had eventually proved to be fruitless. Sightseers, young and old, were climbing over the shingles, slowly and surely making their way towards the temple.

Sharing a look with Barton, she started towards the main structure. And because the two of them were in much better condition than the rest of the people, they were able to make it to the Parthenon in little more than five minutes.

With slow, careful steps, Lauren climbed the stairs into the temple. She regarded the groups of people taking pictures with their cameras; some children were even running around the vast space. She scowled at them in disapproval.

Upon arriving at the anterior of it, she knelt in reverence and placed a hand on the cool surface of the dais.

A thought ran across her head, that perhaps some would find what she was doing to be quite odd. But then she recalled that, though few, there were still locals who did it all the time.

"Whatever is going on up there, Lady Athena," she murmured, "I implore you: Grant me the wisdom and the strength to finish this Quest, and to win this war… And tell my Lady Artemis that her guidance has been sorely missed."

As she was standing, the shrill yell of a child made her ears prick. She whirled around, looking for the source, and found a little girl wailing in front of her mother. Lauren was shocked to see a thin stream of blood travelling down her back and soaking into her dress.

Her senses went into autopilot; she began searching the thickening crowd for anything suspicious. But again, her attention was caught by yet another child's cry. And this was followed by two more.

Her eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. "What in Hades?"

"Two o'clock," said Agent Barton.

Lauren carefully zeroed in on the given location and found a rather tall man hobbling down the steps of the Parthenon. She glanced down for barely a second, and her breath caught at her throat. Instead of legs, the man had a pair of wolf's legs, but they functioned as how a human's would. There was a skip in his step too, as if he had just won the lottery, and her heart dropped.

From the corner of her eye, she saw that Agent Barton was about to make chase—for he had definitely noticed the same as she—but she grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks.

"What?" he said.

"We have to leave." She held fast onto his arm and began leading him out of the Parthenon in a brisk walk.

"Lauren, what is it? What kind of monster was that?"

"That was a Mormo," she muttered. They had reached the sea of rubble; she had to let go of his arm for her to be able to traverse safely. "One of the very few that have managed to stay alive for so long. They are spirits—Greek spirits—and companions to the goddess Hecate. They do not hunt demigods, nor do they kill, but wherever they appear, trouble is sure to follow."

"It hurt those kids though," he said.

She nodded. "Children's blood is one of the key components that make Hecate as powerful as she is, yet a Mormo never takes more than a vial from each child. But that is not our main concern."

"More bad news?"

"Unfortunately," she responded. "A mormo's presence works to strengthen a demigod's scent. And seeing as I was not even a mile apart from it—and within the Parthenon, no less…"

She trailed off, knowing that he already understood what she was trying to explain. He wasn't one of Fury's top agents for nothing.

"We'll head straight for the docks," he said. By that time, they were past the rubble and jogging back into the more populated part of the city. "Hopefully the smell of salt and fish will be enough to mask your scent."

Lauren was surprised with the hint of humor she heard in his voice. "This is bad, Agent Barton," she told him, irked. "Very bad. With all that has happened these past few days, I cannot be sure if things can get any better."

"Oh, they'll definitely get worse," he replied.

Thank you for your optimism, she thought, sighing in exasperation. At the very least, nothing was chasing them… as of the moment.