Okay, so I think you can probably guess why this update took so long, so I won't go into it.

First of all, thank you to Minjad for their newest and improved story cover! It's absolutely fantastic, and I love that you took the time and effort to do that for someone who is essentially a stranger. Just goes to show how awesome you are, and how FF brings people together :)

Furthermore, the story really is kicking into Civil War gear now! YAY! I will indeed be going through the majority of scenes from the movie, with narration and such. I'll also be adding some of my own stuff, just to ensure that the plotline is fully integrated into the story—so pay close attention ;) Not everything in the upcoming chapters will be from the movie. It's a daunting task, and I know that I will never be able to properly portray the movie through words, but please bear with me. And provide constructive criticism! I'm always welcome to constructive criticism :)

Enjoy!

Whisper of Lingering Lies

"

A lie is a wound.

Poisoned with festering words, bleeding from gashes cut with deceit, hidden from view.

You don't see the damage you have wreaked until it is too late.

"

Percy

Nico's silence after Percy had recounted everything was more than a little irksome. He was already frustrated from the rather unsuccessful council meeting that had just been held; he needed some concrete answers at the moment.

"Well?" Percy said impatiently. "What are you thinking?"

Nico looked at him. "That you really screwed up this time."

Percy gave a heavy sigh. That wasn't helpful. "It wasn't me—it was Querci. I didn't even do anything!"

Nico gave him a scrutinizing look. Usually, Percy always did something. The son of Poseidon didn't have to look for trouble, and trouble didn't have to find him—he was trouble. It was bad enough that he was the son of one of the Big Three (though demigods rarely used that term now), but pair that with his uniquely irritating personality and the present fact that he was friends with several of the Avengers . . . well, it was a bomb just waiting to explode.

Tick-tock.

Tick-tock.

Tick-tock.

Nico wondered when he'd hear the KABOOM!

"What has Annabeth said about this?" Nico finally asked.

The strange look that suddenly came over Percy's face was hard to pin down for a moment, but Nico quickly recognized it. "You didn't tell her everything, did you?" Nico guessed.

Percy winced, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well, she hasn't IM'd me yet . . ."

"You haven't told her anything?" Nico exclaimed.

" . . . No."

"Percy—"

"I just don't want her to get worried!" Percy burst out. "If I tell her about Querci, then she'll drop everything and come back here." And that was the last thing Percy wanted—the first thing he wanted was for Annabeth to be happy. She deserved it, and he'd seen her face over and over again, first when she stepped into Avengers Tower, and again when she met Tony Stark, and again when she got the job—she was truly, genuinely, happy. Percy wasn't going to take that away from her.

Nico evidently didn't share his concerns, however. "We all have to sacrifice something, Percy. It's a job—she can go back to it later, once all of this has been settled."

Percy shook his head, knowing that that wasn't true. If she came back to Camp, she'd never go back to LA—she'd stay here, convinced that she needed to oversee everything. Because being a demigod was a job as well—a lifetime commitment. And more and more often, it seemed to eat up what little time they had left to actually live life.

"What could she do, anyway?" Percy pointed out. "This is all on Querci now—nothing any of us said changed her mind. Even Piper couldn't convince her." Percy shook his head, making his decision. "No, I'm not going to tell Annabeth."

"You're not going to tell me what?"

With a sudden lump of apprehension in his throat, Percy turned around to see Annabeth hovering a few feet away, her piercing gray eyes searching him through the IM.

. . .

Percy swallowed. "Uh, it's nothing, just—"

"Percy Jackson, don't lie to me." Annabeth warned.

Percy was suddenly glad that his girlfriend was miles away in California, and not within punching range. Or dagger range. "No, I just—"

"What are you hiding from me? Is it Querci?" When he didn't respond, her eyes narrowed. "It is, isn't it?"

"What? No!" Percy grabbed Nico before the demigod could high-tail his way out of the potentially explosive situation, and hauled him back into the frame of the IM. "Nico came back with some news from the Underworld."

Annabeth turned her surveillance-like eyes to Nico, who managed to remain seemingly undaunted, to his credit. For a second, Percy wondered if Nico would listen to him and keep the situation with Querci to himself. He fervently hoped so. If not, Annabeth's chance at her life's dream would be ruined. And then Percy would probably want to strangle the son of Hades. It wasn't like he hadn't had the urge to do so before. Nico had a tendency to make decisions that often irked Percy. Like when he—

"Yes, I have some news from the Underworld." Nico said, nodding.

Percy wanted to give Nico a hug, but restrained himself.

Some of Annabeth's suspicion fell away as her interest was piqued. "About the rogue sparti? And the dead birds?"

"Only something that may be related to the sparti," Nico said apologetically. "And I don't think my father was involved in either of the two."

"He told you so?" Annabeth asked, obviously not expecting outright honesty from the god of the dead.

Nico shook his head, laughing a little at such a notion. "No—he would never tell me. But he looked surprised when I told him about the sparti—and afterwards, he acted disinterested." Nico shrugged. "Usually, when he does that, he's interested. He just doesn't want others to know that he is."

Percy rolled his eyes. That was Hades alright—an egotistical jerk. Among other things.

"And if he's interested," Nico continued. "It means he didn't know anything about it before I told him. The sparti was news to him. And the birds . . . well, I think that time he really actually didn't care about them." Nico shrugged. "Or at least I think so. He kicked me out of his palace pretty quickly."

Percy blinked. "Why?"

"I don't know," Nico sighed, clearly frustrated. "Because he's Hades?"

"Fair enough."

"So, if you didn't get anything from Hades, what did you find out?" Annabeth frowned.

"Well, afterwards, I visited the Fields of Asphodel and the Fields of Punishment."

Percy shifted uneasily, his thoughts briefly turning to the hellish place and the many horrible things that went on down there.

"And?" Annabeth asked expectantly.

"And there were sparti missing," Nico said grimly. "Not many—too few for my 'very busy' father to notice, but enough for me to notice. Guards here and there, their stations abandoned." Nico shook his head, biting his lip. "This has never happened before—they're essentially programmed to obey only Hades. I can't say for sure that the sparti that have been spotted topside are the same from my father's legions, but if they are . . ." Nico trailed off, looking very troubled.

Annabeth understood. "Then there's a breach. There's a breach in your father's domain."

Nico nodded. "Yes. A hole somewhere in the Underworld, and sparti that we have no control over, wandering in the mortal world."

Percy summed it up. "That's just perfect."

. . .

Afterwards, Nico left Percy and Annabeth alone so that they could talk in private, and more specifically for Annabeth, in the privacy of a public bathroom outside of Stark Industries HQ. Evidently, Annabeth hadn't IM'd yesterday because she hadn't been able to get away from all the listening ears.

"The facility is massive!" Annabeth said, looking as excited as when she had started drawing up blueprints for the Camp's new cabins. "We just started the designing process today, and there's so much to do!"

Percy grinned, happy that Annabeth was happy. "I guess Tony's pretty happy that he hired you."

And just like that, Annabeth's face fell. "I think something happened between him and Pepper,"

"What do you mean?"

"Tony was supposed to stay until Wednesday, but he's already left for MIT to give some kind of speech." Annabeth said quietly. "I think it has something to do with the crew of androids he's using for the construction of the building wing that we're designing."

Percy frowned. "'Crew of androids?'" He knew enough about Tony, and has seen enough of the havoc wreaked by the Iron Man suit and Ultron's sentries to know that anything involving robots was a bad idea. Especially when it came to Tony.

"Yeah. It's just me and Pepper now, and the rest of the design team." Annabeth gave a sigh, blowing out her cheeks. "What about you? Any progress on Querci?"

Percy shook his head, hiding his unease. "No, it's been pretty quiet the last few days. Maybe she's taking a vacation," he joked.

Annabeth rolled her eyes. "Please take her seriously, Percy. We don't know what else she has up her sleeve."

"I know, I know," Percy said. "Don't worry about it—I've got it all under control."

Annabeth surveyed him for a moment with that scrutinizing, piercing gaze of hers, and then she nodded. "Okay. Don't be a seaweed brain, Percy. I'll try to IM you tomorrow," she promised. "We need to find out more about this breach in the Underworld, and how we're going to catch all the loose sparti."

Percy agreed and the IM connection was severed.

I've got it all under control.

He hoped that would be true before Annabeth came back at the end of next week.

Grover

"Nobody will let me in!" Juniper said, her voice high in her distress. She cast another desperate look back at the forest—her former home. "Nobody will talk to me!"

Grover hugged the small elfin dryad, who buried her face in his neck as she began to cry again. Seeing his girlfriend so distraught only made him more frustrated with the rest of the nymphs. The majority of the wild spirits had spent their entire lives here—it was shocking to see how quickly they were all turning their backs.

The moment Juniper had shown hesitancy in joining Querci, her lifetime friends and family had shunned her, casting her out of the forest and denying her return.

It was as effective as a death sentence. Separated from her juniper bush, the very source of her life, the dryad would only last 2 or 3 weeks tops, slowly dying all the while.

"We're going to fix this," Grover said, swallowing down the fear that he had. The fear of the future—of Juniper's future. "And we're going to find a way to deal with Querci."

Once upon a time, Grover would never have even thought such a thing against such a powerful figure as the oaken dryad. But seeing what Querci was doing to the nymphs, seeing as nearly all the trees fell silent, the lake went still, the cloud nymphs disappeared, and the strawberry fields became empty—it was like a physical illness had struck, making Grover hurt everywhere. He hated to see all of this conflict, and among friends and family no less. And all Querci did was say a few words; words so potent and compelling that they were as formidable as Piper's charmspeak in some respects. At the very least, the dryad had managed to unveil the deepest and rankest wounds that had festered in the relationship between the gods, their children, and the Wild for many years.

Grover himself had tried to remain neutral, recognizing that it was his duty as a friend to both wild spirits and demigods, and as a Cloven Elder, to maintain the peace. And what had he gotten? The Council had fallen apart, demigods were beginning to look at him as if wondering if he were a traitor, and dryads were shunning him just as they were with Juniper and a dozen other nymphs. Because not everyone had sided with Querci. There were still wild spirits who had chosen to remain silent, unwilling to take sides or fearing the consequences if they did. And it didn't matter, because their silence was found to be just as incriminating as outspoken opposition, and they too were being cast out of their homes by the majority—the still-growing faction of nymphs who had begun to preach Querci's words.

And it all made Grover's head hurt, because there was truth in the oaken dryad's words. She had made accusations, but they were well-founded by centuries of evidence.

But there was one thing that Grover was absolutely certain about.

The way Querci was going about to addressing the problem between wild spirits, demigods and gods? Pitting them all against one another?

It wasn't the right way.

Peter

"Mr. Stark's not here?" Peter looked around, scratching his head.

"No, I apologize Mr. Parker." Friday responded, managing to sound apologetic.

"That's okay," Peter said absentmindedly, sighing a little. He'd come hoping to just chat with Mr. Stark and work on his suit, like they did every Sunday, but it appeared that the billionaire had left for Stark Industries HQ a little earlier than planned.

"But sir, there is someone else present."

And as if to mark Friday's words, heavy booted footsteps began to clomp down the metal stairs to Peter's right.

Peter made a dash for the landing pad outside.

Percy

Percy left Camp Half-Blood late in the evening, hoping that he could talk with a certain Asgardian.

He also needed to separate himself from the tense environment inside the Camp, if only for a few hours. It felt like everyone was at each other's throats, ready to lunge at the slightest provocation. This problem with Querci . . . well, it had become much bigger than a problem with Querci, really. Fingers pointed in each direction, accusations shouted at everyone; it appeared everyone was at fault one way or another. And Percy had gotten it all tangled up, and that wasn't even the worst of it.

The worst thing that had happened so far was that he'd lied to Annabeth. If she found out . . . well, she'd be absolutely furious, to say the least. So far, he'd managed to keep Nico quiet, but it wouldn't be hard for Annabeth to find out from another source. Hades, all she had to do was make a trip to Camp Jupiter, and then she'd be on a one-way ticket back to New York.

So Percy decided that it was about time they actually tried to fix this massive and still-growing conflict, starting with where it all began: the nymphs' beef with Thor.

And after that, he would need to speak to his father. Because the gods were just as at fault as the demigods were, at this point.

As he sat in the back of the cab that was taking him to Manhattan, the radio blared:

". . . week we'll be experiencing colder than normal temperatures, possibly even in the single digits by next month. Experts are warning that La Niña will be responsible for an early, powerful winter season . . ."

And sure enough, by the time Percy exited the cab in the middle of bustling Manhattan, a cold wind had set in. Pulling the sleeves of his hoodie down to provide some meagre protection for his forearms, Percy immediately regretted not having thought to bring a jacket. It didn't feel like the end of July right now; it felt like October.

Sneaking into Stark Tower was easy enough now; with a discrete access card and name, the few reporters mingling around the entrance paid him no attention, and the lobbyist gave him a brief smile before sending him up to the penthouse.

He briefly wondered if he'd see Steve or Tony; if he were being truthful, he would admit that he was also making this visit to speak with them. Or just hang out. He wasn't sure yet.

It was a long shot, expecting to meet Thor in the Avengers Tower. But Percy didn't have much of a choice; it wasn't like he could call him up to meet him somewhere, and even then, where would they meet? Central Park? Percy didn't want a repeat of Tuesday. And Percy didn't want to risk some mortal seeing him speak to Thor, especially when the Asgardian's distinct appearance drew all eyes towards him like an attention magnet.

And bringing Thor to Camp in the midst of all the conflict . . . yup, that sounded like a bad idea altogether.

So Percy was hedging his bets on bumping into Thor at the Tower.

Thor

Thor spent a good 15 minutes riffling through Stark's workshop, and was just about ready to break a few tables by the end of it. Glowing, holographic numbers and diagrams of the scepter, innumerable files typed in the smallest of fonts on fragile, glass screens—and to top it all off, Stark wasn't here to decipher any of it for him. Rather, he had decided to up and leave for some talk at an M-I-T. Whatever a mit was. And so now, it appeared as if the search for the Infinity Stone residing on Midgard had come to a screeching halt, if it had even started in the first place.

Stomping down the metal staircase to the lounge area, a whisper of movement caught Thor's attention. Eyes narrowed, he frowned in the direction of the landing pad, when the elevator dinged!

Perseus Jackson stepped out.

Percy

"Percy," Thor greeted him, going to meet the demigod.

Percy looked in his direction, and relief flickered across his face. It appeared as if the demigod was happy to see him. "Thor. Uh, how are you?"

"I'm well," Thor responded politely in his faintly accented, tenor voice. "And you?"

"Good, thanks."

Both of them were well aware of the fact that they couldn't speak openly towards each other—not with the constant ear of Friday listening to every word.

"Where's Steve? And Tony?" Percy asked, looking around.

"Ah, Stark is talking at a mit." Thor said with a tinge of annoyance. "And Steve is out, busy with other matters." Like dealing with HYDRA. But Thor kept his mouth closed; Avengers business was not Percy's business.

"Oh." Clearly, the demigod was slightly disappointed. "And what are you doing here?"

"I was hoping to speak to Stark myself, actually," Thor admitted. "I had some matters to discuss with him." And that's when Thor had an idea. "Regarding some artifacts, actually."

Percy's interest was peaked by the way Thor vaguely hinted at a new topic. "Artifacts . . . ? That's more of Annabeth's thing than mine."

"They're called Infinity Stones. They are remnants of six singularities that existed before creation."

Percy scratched his head. "Yeah, like I said, artifacts really aren't my thing."

Thor ignored him, clearly in a story-telling mode. "Before creation, there existed six singularities: Mind, Space, Time, Reality, Power and Soul. Then the universe came into existence . . ." And on he went, telling the demigod about the six stones and the wealth of power stored within each of them. And more importantly, he told him of the galaxies far, far beyond.

"And one of them resides here, on Midgard."

Percy blinked in shock, straightening in his position on the couch. "What?"

Thor nodded. "That is why I have come to Midgard in the first place; I hope to find this stone before it falls into the wrong hands."

"Like whose?"

Thor's expression turned grim, and he cast his eyes out towards the city, seeming as if he were peering through the glass and steel to look into space and beyond. "I do not know. But mark my words, Perseus. Someone is searching for them."

Percy felt a chill go down his back. He hadn't felt this edgy since he had his asthmatic attack when faced with the rotten bird, but Thor's prophetic words were really getting to him. "What could they do with them?"

Thor turned his azure eyes towards the demigod. "Anything."

Percy fell back on the couch, his mind trying to process all of the information. Six stones—six weapons of immense, possibly limitless, power. The destructive potential of just one of them . . . Suddenly, Percy realized just how small he was in this massive universe. Universe. Because, gods, there wasn't just Earth, and Asgard, and the Nine Realms anymore. Suddenly, there were other galaxies inhabited by other races, other life forms . . . Gods of Olympus, Percy felt like his head was going to explode just from thinking about it.

So he did the smart thing and stopped thinking about it. This was how he dealt with massive problems—he did away with the complexities and distilled it to the basics. The really important things. "Why are you telling me this?"

Thor shrugged, his eyes flickering imperceptibly towards the ceiling. "You asked why I was here. I have told you. I came to search for the Stone, and I seek help. Help from Steve, Stark . . . and perhaps others."

Realization dawned on Percy's face. "Others." He repeated. "Like, say, maybe some people at the Empire State building."

Thor snorted. "Those people would never think to help me. They would be more likely to go in search of the Stones to take the power for themselves."

Percy nailed Thor with a hard glare.

"Or not," Thor shrugged, unconcerned. "But no. I think their children might prove to be more helpful. Or just one child in particular."

I'm nearly 18, Percy wanted to say. But he wisely kept his mouth shut. "Well, I think they're kind of busy at the moment with other stuff. And besides, how are they supposed to help you?"

"However they can," Thor said simply. "Stark appears to have entirely forgotten about the Stone for the time being, as has the rest of the team. I will welcome any form of help at the moment."

Right. That wasn't going to happen. Percy had far too much on his plate to help Thor in his search for this magic stone, not to mention that the majority of stuff on his plate had started because of Thor. And that reminded him . . .

"You remember all those people who you upset recently?" Percy asked, giving the Asgardian a meaningful glare.

Thor nodded warily, the change in subject putting him on guard.

"Yeah, well, they're a lot more upset now."

Thor gave a bark of laughter. "And what do you expect me to do? Apologize?"

"Yeah, among other things," Percy said, frowning at Thor's amusement.

"Perhaps later, after I have found the Infinity Stone." Thor shrugged. Clearly, he didn't care much for the state of the nymphs.

Percy stood up, slightly angry. "The least you could do is apologize and agree to stop killing them," he snapped. After everything he'd done, the Asgardian was just going to laugh it off?

Thor's eyes flashed. "They are trees, child." He rumbled, standing up as well and towering over the demigod. "I have more important things to do than bow before a sprite." And with that, the Asgardian stomped out of the room, angrier than before.

Percy balled his fists, resisting the urge to draw Riptide. Clearly, the talk he and Annabeth had had on Tuesday with Thor hadn't left a lasting mark. The Asgardian still considered nymphs to be powerless and insignificant.

Forget Thor; Percy didn't need him to solve his problems.

Peter

Peter leaned back into a relaxed position (or as relaxed as he could get while hiding beneath the landing pad) as both Percy and Thor left the penthouse inside the Tower.

Why was it that as he learned more about Percy, he got more questions than answers? Like who were the people at the Empire State Building that Percy was hinting at, and why did it seem like Thor didn't like them very much? Because really, you could only harbour so much hate for an office worker.

And was Peter just imagining it, or did he hear Thor subtly ask Percy for help in his search for his magic stones.

And sprites? Were these the same things as the walking, gossiping, fighting tree girls that Peter had seen on Tuesday night?

Peter groaned. Way too many questions. Percy's double life was starting to appear far more complicated than his own.

Peter's day only got more chaotic when he made his way back to the apartment, and spotted a familiar man loitering around the front of the building, clearly unconcerned about being mugged despite the fact that it was dark and well into the evening.

With a quick look around to make sure the street was empty, Peter webbed the man and bodily flung him into the nearest alleyway. Man, he'd been waiting since their Thursday meeting to do that.

"What are you doing here?" Peter asked boldly, keeping the stutter out of his voice. He was glad he had his spider-man suit on—it didn't hurt to have the boost of confidence.

"Hello to you, too," Fury said mildly, dusting himself off and examining the remnants of the webbing on his dark coat with interest.

"I said, what are—"

"I heard what you said, kid," Fury cut across him, nailing him with a hard look that was unimpeded by his sunglasses.

"Then tell me!" Peter demanded, wincing inwardly. Despite trying to take a strong stance, even that sounded lame in his ears.

"Did you forget our agreement?" Fury raised an eyebrow. "I'm just checking up on you, seeing if you've made any progress."

Peter grinded his teeth, hating the fact that he was still under Fury's thumb. "It's not an agreement; you're blackmailing me."

It was made worse by the fact that not only could Peter tell no one about it; it was that he couldn't even tell Tony. Peter was well aware of the fact that Fury worked for the Avengers; just how much access he had to communications between team members and beyond was unknown to Peter, and he certainly didn't want to risk it. He'd tried Tony's secure number, the one that he gave only to his closest friends, but he didn't pick up. Either Tony was ignoring him, or he was in a really bad mood. So he was alone. Completely and utterly alone.

Fury shrugged. "Whatever you want to call it, kid. But like I said, progress. Do you have any information on Percy Jackson?"

Peter froze, realizing that he was trapped. Either he gave something useful to Fury now, or he kept his mouth shut and gave into the possibility of Fury revealing his identity to the world. It didn't matter that he didn't want to spy for him; it was that he couldn't do anything about it, for the moment anyway.

And yet, had he really learned anything about Percy?

Yes.

He knew that Percy probably had powers—freaking, fantastic powers that involved complete mastery over water, if he were being truthful. And he and Thor shared some kind of weird, unique relationship. And Percy's girlfriend, Annabeth, seemed to be in the thick of it, as well. And, oh yeah, Central Park's trees were far more humanoid than possible. Peter knew all this, along with dozens of other little tidbits and facts. But he didn't know where it was all leading. He had a few puzzle pieces that belonged to a thousand-piece puzzle, and he was no Indiana Jones or Sherlock Holmes.

But which of these puzzle pieces were most insignificant? Because Peter sure as hell wasn't going to give up anything valuable to Fury and put Percy at his mercy.

Peter finally shrugged, trying to appear indifferent and once again glad that he was wearing his suit; it covered the panic and nervousness that was probably very apparent on his face. "I haven't really gotten any time to spy on him—you know, full-time student intern and all. I've only seen him once so far, actually."

"And?"

"And . . . he really likes his pen," Peter finished. He knew it sounded lame, but this time, he didn't care. Let Fury think what he wanted; he wasn't going to give up anymore information today. Besides, what was Fury going to do with this—try and steal the pen off Percy? For all Peter knew, his far-fetched imagination had led him to believe that the stationary utensil could turn into a sword.

Fury gave him a scrutinizing look, clearly aware of the fact that Peter knew far more than he was letting on.

Peter remained stubbornly silent.

Finally, Fury turned away. "I hope you have some better intel later in the week, for your sake. Until next time, Mr. Parker." And then the former spy turned the alleyway corner and was out of sight.

Taneleer Tivan (see Chapter 14 for a refreshing on Tivan)

"Why has it taken so long? I expected the job to be finished today." Tivan said quietly. Perhaps with an edge of danger.

"The skeleton—it killed Marlin, sir," The mercenary speaking in the communication device's screen glanced behind himself for a moment, as if worried that he was next.

Marlin . . . ah, one of the other mercenaries. "What a pity. But why the delay?

"The security surrounding the artifact is far greater than we could have expected; Nova Corps has collaborated with outer worlds to ensure that it is never stolen. I've had to hire more mercs because your skeleton keeps killing them off. At this point, I'll run out of resources before we get your artifact."

"Hire as many thieves as you need; let me worry about funds. I want to have that artifact in my hands within the next Xandarian week, is that clear?"

"W-week? But sir . . ." The mercenary swallowed. A Xandarian week was equal to about two Terran weeks, for those who knew the many numerous time conversions off the top of their head. And "about two Terran weeks" to steal what was possibly the most tightly guarded object in Nova Corps' possession did not seem like sufficient time at all. But catching the cool look on Tivan's face, the mercenary snapped his mouth shut and said no more. For now, Tivan was simply impatient. He didn't want to push the Elder until he became angry.

There were stories about the anger of Taneleer Tivan.

"A week," Tivan repeated. "If I do not have my artifact by then . . ." He let the threat hang in the air.

The mercenary bobbed his head in obedience, and then Tivan terminated the communications link.

One more week, and then he'd have his beloved Power Stone back in his possession. Either that, or he'd have to hire some new help and get rid of the current mercenaries, which he hoped he would not have to resort to. He didn't want to get his hands dirty.

The Olympians

"This has gone on for too long," Demeter said firmly, one eye on Zeus, and another cast down miles below, looking upon the growing faction of nymphs converging in Central Park. "If we continue to remain silent, it will only worsen."

Ares laughed, but no one else shared his mirth. "And what are they gonna do? Demand that we obey their requests? March on Olympus? Who cares—they can't do squat."

"Ares is correct," Zeus rumbled. "They are not our concern. If they dare to turn their backs on us, they are doing more harm to themselves.

"Indeed," Dionysus agreed, stretched out languidly in his throne, a terribly bored expression on his face. "But nevertheless, haven't these tiresome nymphs always been our concern, just like with the demigod brats?"

Poseidon's eyes narrowed, noticing the quiet tension lying beneath the wine god's words. Dionysus may have been the epitome of indifference, but the angry whisper of grape vines swaying ever so slightly around his throne betrayed his true thoughts. Standing up, Poseidon faced Zeus. "Brother, it is time to stop this nonsense. Let the concerns of the nymphs be addressed, and stop using Percy and Annabeth as pawns who may spy on the Asguardian for you. They don't deserve such treatment."

Zeus stood up, his eyes hardening. Next to him, in his tight grasp, the Master Bolt thrummed with energy. "That is not your decision to make."

Poseidon met Athena's eyes for the briefest of seconds. He knew what she was thinking: don't be stupid. For all they knew, Thor Odinson could indeed be up to something, and it would do well for them to find out what. But using this method? Using Percy as a spy without his even knowing? Poseidon didn't reach for his trident, not wishing to provoke Zeus. But all the same, he stood up, meeting his brother's glare. "We shall see."

And with that, the god of the seas disappeared in a violent spray of water.

"Well, that was productive," Dionysus commented lightly. He stood up, dusting himself off. "If you'll excuse me Father, I think I'll return to the camp. The demigod brats are probably running around headless right now."

Zeus barely gave him a glance, only stormed out of the throne room. Dionysis shrugged to himself, and then disappeared, leaving behind the sharp tang of crushed grapes.

The god of wine appeared at the edge of a silent forest, and placed a hand on the ground, ignoring the twigs and leaves that dirtied his skin.

Power rushed out in a silent concussion wave, blowing through the forest with a quiet whisper.

You are no longer restrained. No longer anchored to this forest. If you wish, leave. Leave. Leave.

Leave . . .

The nymphs residing in Camp Half-Blood stirred, their trees and bushes shivering with raw energy.

Poseidon

Poseidon appeared in his throne room in Atlantis, angry with himself.

He'd shown far too much favour for Percy already; this most recent clash with Zeus only tempted the Fates to cast some terrible curse upon his son as punishment for being so partial to him. It was difficult to stop himself, however. Percy was different. He had changed the gods within the span of a few years, while time had failed to change them for the past three millennia.

The demigod had brought them together in the most dire of times, but it appeared his existence was now driving them apart.

Poseidon gripped his trident tightly, and the world's oceans grew agitated in response to his growing anger with Zeus.

Steve

The passengers of a private flight to Lagos experienced far more turbulence than expected. One might have said that the sea and sky were lashing out at one another, violent waves and wild winds trading blows in the beginnings of what might turn out to be a full-fledged war. If the seas and skies were alive, of course.

But Steve didn't mind. He took the lurches and sudden jolts in stride, while a green-faced Wanda tried to stomach the contents of her lunch. Natasha offered what comfort she could, which was far more than what she would have given to anybody else; she and Wanda shared a unique bond inspired by the fact that they were the only two women on the team. Sam spent his time checking over his gear and discussing tactics and strategy with the rest of the team. By the time they touched down in Murtala Muhammed International Airport, Wanda looked a little better and the team was ready to stop HYDRA in its latest operation.

The intel regarding Rumlow's whereabouts in Lagos had finally been authenticated this Sunday morning. Agent Hill had sent the report to Steve, who had swiftly assembled and briefed the team before they boarded the quinjet.

They had a couple ideas as to what Hydra was doing in Lagos. Weapons, intel, money to continue financing their operations . . . But everybody knew that Rumlow wasn't Steve's only concern. They were also looking for Bucky. But for reasons that Steve still had yet to entirely discern, nobody had backed out of the mission, or tried to stop him. Maybe they recognized that they needed to find Bucky. Maybe they recognized that he needed to find Bucky. Either way, Steve was grateful. Rhodes was still at the military academy in New York with Secretary Ross, and Tony was off for some speech at MIT, so there was no one to try and stop him. Sure, Tony would hear about their mission afterwards, and Secretary Ross definitely would, but at the moment, Steve didn't care. Ross could threaten him all he wanted—he was still going to go after Bucky.

Vision had also stayed behind. The majority of the Avengers' missions that involved going out into the public resulted in Vision being forced to remain at the training facility; despite it having been a year since he was revealed to the world, the public had yet to take kindly to his appearance. He was too foreign looking—too alien looking. Unlike Wanda, he didn't have the luxury of enough human features to help soothe the fears that came from witnessing his strange and extraordinary powers.

So it was just the four of them.

But as he looked at each of them, Steve knew that the four of them were enough.

Alright, I gotta go - I have limited wifi access at the moment - so I will send out PM responses as soon as I can! Enjoy!

- 100th Century

Responses to reviews:

Guest (Oct. 14): Aw, oh well - I hope you can enjoy my story all the same :) But if not, thank you for the review-it was still awesome to read! I don't think I could ever manage the amount of commitment that a book calls for, but . . . well, we'll see what Life throws ;)

Guest (Oct. 6): Yeah, so sorry about the delay—enjoy this newest chapter! And thank you :)

Guest (Sept. 28): Will you maybe be able to add characters from the Kane chronicles. Only if you've . . . Yeah, I considered it in the beginning—I have read the books :) I'm just not invested enough in the series to know enough that I might be able to use the characters in a FF story. Also, I've got a lot of POVs going at the moment . . . I'll continue to consider it, however—perhaps in the future :)

Guest (Sept. 28): Nico can sence death though so he would know if some one died . . . Thank you for pointing that out—complete mistake on my part!

Guest/Banterlord400: Wow, thank you—your review means a lot. I truly hope you enjoy this newest chapter. And yes, definitely, I've been meaning to devote some Percy/Wanda conversation at some point or another—hopefully, it comes in soon.

Guest (Sept. 20): I love Bruce's personality so much! I can't wait to see what role he plays in all of this. Also it's really hard . . . Thanks! I love Bruce, too, he's kinda adorable in his own way, haha. That's great! If you can come to love or hate a character, than it means I did my job ;)

Guest (Sept. 20): You're bringing spider man into this aren't you? X) SQUEEEEEEEEEE! Haha, yup, and seeing your awesome reaction, I'd say it was definitely worth it :D

Guest/Giulia: Thanks! I try to make the effort of answering each review—it's the least I can do if someone makes the effort of giving a review :) Ohhh, I thought I read all of the PJO short stories, but perhaps not—I can't recall Percy ever using the mist. I'll have to search that one up—thanks for the heads up! And don't worry—Mrs. O'Leary and Blackjack will come in at one point or another—it wouldn't be a true PJO story without them ;) Let me hear all your suggestions! I love reading them, and although I can't guarantee that I'll use them, I can assure you that I'll consider them :)

Achievement: Yeah, I know—you hit the nail right on the head. The chapters were going so good, and then it kinda just . . . splat. Poof. So in this chapter and the next, I'm trying to pick up the pace. Let me know how it turns out!

Anonymous: Yeah, I never considered the relationship between dryads and demigods much before this, either, and then it just struck me! Thanks, hope you enjoy this chapter!