Normally, I wouldn't have updated so soon, but I decided to go for it. Thanks to KitKatWei, who was the only positive reviewer out of the ones I got. Yay KitKat :D So I will combine her suggestion with that of MarburyBlur, who seems very determined that I should 'do them', meaning people who are going to be happy about Percabeth dying. And something else: please check that I haven't already done a particular person before you request them. I've titled the chapters, so you can go to that little menu that lets you jump chapters and check. Please do so in the future. Thanks to the guest(s) who reviewed, Advanced99, Katherington, ficlover08, GreenandGreyConverses, and of course KitKatWei and MarburyBlur. And on to the chapter.

PHOBOS AND DEIMOS

(Note: If you haven't read The Demigod Files, then you will not know the protagonists of this chapter.)

The two minor gods of fear and terror, respectively, were lounging around in their shared palace on Mount Olympus. Normally neither god was there often, but today was a special occasion. Ares had asked (read: ordered) them to be there so he could tell them…something.

"What do you think Ares wants us here for?" Deimos asked his brother, lazily flipping a knife through his fingers. He liked to give the impression that he was good at swordsmanship, even though he was most definitely not.

"Why are you asking me?" Phobos said sourly, leaning forward to study the flat-screen TV in front of him as he desperately manipulated the Xbox controller in his hand, cursing. "Oh, come on, you dumb game. Let me kill that guy already."

"Playing Hatred again?"

The two brothers' heads snapped up simultaneously, and they were greeted by the sight of their father Ares standing before them, arms crossed.

"He's addicted," Deimos said, rolling his eyes.

"Shut up," Phobos said angrily. "Oh, come on! You stupid game! I finally enter the right combo and you kill the policeman instead of the fifty civilians?!"

"Phobos, you can play your silly game later. We have things to discuss." Ares sat down on the couch with a bored expression on his face. "Right, so Gaea's dead. Conquered. Whatever."

Phobos and Deimos exchanged glances, and shrugged. They had been looking forward to the fear and terror that would follow Gaea's rise, but they hadn't really cared one way or another. They supposed that the world not ending was something they could deal with, though.

"So is Percy Jackson."

Deimos looked puzzled. "Who's Percy Jackson? And why does it matter that he was conquered?"

Phobos was a little faster on the uptake, and he smacked his brother, hard. "He's dead, dummy. And he's Clarisse's boyfriend. Remember that time we stole the chariot?"

Ares' eyes narrowed dangerously. Phobos swallowed and looked away; he had no wish to remind his father of the wrath he had incurred on the day he'd discovered that his sons had in fact stolen his beloved war chariot.

"Oh!" Deimos nodded vigorously, finally realizing who Percy Jackson was and missing the silent exchange between his father and brother. "I remember now. Good, that idiot's dead. Let's have a party and go bully Clarisse!"

"I think she can stand up for herself," Ares said. "If she's being a coward, go ahead and bully her, yeah, but only if."

Phobos and Deimos beamed. "Come on, Deimos, we're going to go kill Clarisse," Phobos said happily.

"Don't kill her," Ares said, alarmed at the thought of losing a possible champion, but Phobos and Deimos had already vanished.

With a sigh, the god of war teleported away, and neither he nor his sons gave much thought to either Percy Jackson or Annabeth Chase for the rest of the day.