Yeah so…this chapter's been done for a while…but I got sucked into the 'Persona 5' fandom. Anyone who knows anything about 'Persona 5' will know that investing hundreds of hours into just playing the game is normal - let alone the speculating and fandom dive that comes after a main playthrough. I am in love. And only about 2/3 of the way through the game so I've been a bit distracted investing all my free time into 'Persona 5'. Not the Royal version BTW. No, there's even more in the Royal version.

But I remember to post! Yay!

Considering how few comments I get, I can only assume how many readers actually look forward to my updates. Then again, I often don't comment until a story's done either - especially when it feels like the story is going to be completed if I just wait it out. Meh, I keep posting either way BECAUSE I CAN!

Anyway, it's mostly the idea that I have to edit something I've already written and moved on from that always causes me to procrastinate. But when I go back and read something and find an error, it takes like five steps to edit it on both Fanfic and Archive of Our Own, so I'd rather dive in with no regrets. Or a few regrets, but not as many.

The second part of this story kinda…dragged out. And anyone who knows 'Persona 5' will feel the influence. Whoops!

Enjoy!

Third Person: Ane

Coach Hedge chose that moment to burst out into the clearing, waving a paper airplane yelling, "Good news, everyone!" He froze when he saw the Roman. "Oh…nevermind."

He quickly crumpled the airplane and ate it.

Reyna, Nico, and Ane got to their feet. Aurum and Argentum scampered to Reyna's side and growled at the intruder. How this guy had gotten so close with none of them noticing?! Ane didn't understand. Her Remnants were scouting the area!

"Bryce Lawrence," Reyna said. "Octavian's newest attack dog."

The Roman inclined his head. His eyes were green, but not sea green like Percy's…more like pond scum green.

"The augur has many attack dogs," Bryce said. "I'm just the lucky one who found you. Your Graecus friend here-" he pointed his chin at Nico "-he was easy to track. He and that monster stink of the Underworld."

Nico unsheathed his sword. "You know the Underworld? Would you like me to arrange a visit?"

Bryce laughed. His front teeth were two different shades of yellow. "Do you think you can frighten me? I'm a descendant of Orcus, the god of broken vows and eternal punishment. I've heard the screams in the Fields of Punishment first hand. They're music to my ears. Soon, I'll be adding one more damned soul to the chorus." He grinned at Reyna. "Patricide, eh? Octavian will love this news. You are under arrest for multiple violations of Roman law."

"You son of a bitch, I'll kill you!" Ane snapped. "You think the Fields of Punishment are nice, well how about I introduce you to Tartarus-?!"

Nico snatched Ane's shoulder before she could run forward.

"You being here is against Roman law," Reyna said firmly. "Romans don't quest alone. A mission has to be led by someone of centurion rank or higher. You're in probatio, and even giving you that rank was a mistake. You have no right to arrest me."

Bryce shrugged. "In times of war, some rules have to be flexible. But don't worry. Once I bring you in for trial, I'll be rewarded with full membership in the legion. I imagine I'll be promoted to centurion too. Doubtless there will be vacancies after the coming battle. Some officers won't survive, especially if their loyalties aren't in the right place."

Coach Hedge hefted his bat. "I don't know the proper Roman etiquette, but can I bash this kid now?"

"A faun," Bryce said. "Interesting. I heard the Greeks actually trusted their goat men."

Hedge bleated. "I'm a satyr. And you can trust I'm going to put this bat upside your head, you little punk."

The coach advanced, but as soon as his foot touched the cairn, the stones rumbled like they were coming to a boil. Out of the gravesite, skeletal warriors erupted - spartoi in the tattered remains of British redcoat uniforms.

Hedge scrambled away, but the first two skeletons grabbed his arms and lifted him off the ground. The coach dropped his bat and kicked his hooves. "Lemme go, ya stupid boneheads!"

The grave spewed more dead British soldiers - five, ten, twenty, they multiplied so quickly that Reyna and her metal dogs were surrounded before Nico even thought to raise his sword. How could they not have sensed so many dead, so close at hand?

"I forgot to mention," Bryce said, "I'm actually not alone on this quest. As you can see, I have backup. These redcoats promised quarter to the colonials. Then they butchered them. Personally, I like a good massacre, but because they broke their oaths, their spirits were damned, and they are perpetually under the power of Orcus. Which means they are also under my control." He pointed to Reyna. "Seize the girl."

The spartoi surged forward. Aurum and Argentum took down the first few, but they were quickly wrestled to the ground, skeletal hands clamped over their muzzles, the redcoats grabbed Reyna's arms. For undead creatures, they were surprisingly quick.

"Bastard!" Ane dived for Bryce himself, shoving skeletons out of her way and occasionally ducking between their legs. She activated 498 and her ashes to dissolve all the skeletons that tried to touch her and easily overpowered them to launch herself at Bryce.

He held up his pilum and Ane made contact with the Imperial gold, both the metal and her hands smoking from the touch.

"Orcus, huh? I'll be delighted to take that power away from you. I have absorbed the energies of the scepter of Diocletian. Roman armies of the dead still serve me as well!"

Ane's familiar shouted, "Do!" and then began glowing with the sickly dark purple energies that the scepter of Diocletian had once emanated.

Skeletons in Roman attire and battle armor began crawling out of the ground as well, automatically attacking Bryce's undead warriors - who were also still coming.

Nico slashed at the spartoi, but his sword passed harmlessly through them. He exerted his will, ordering the skeletons to dissolve. They acted as if he didn't exist.

"What's wrong, son of Hades?" Bryce's voice was filled with fake sympathy. "Losing your grip?"

Nico tried to push his way through the skeletons. There were too many. Bryce, Reyna, and Coach Hedge might as well have been behind a metal wall.

"Nico, get out of here!" Reyna shouted. "Get to the statue and leave!"

"Yes, off you go!" Bryce agreed. He swung his pilum and Ane was thrown back.

There were plenty of Roman skeleton warriors here, but most of them were still under Bryce's control, and so the ones that Ane was having to summon were being pulled through magic from a distance away - she couldn't get as many skeletons there as fast, and she didn't know the actual Roman commands in Latin, and so she was having to mentally control their actions directly. Her skeletons were tougher and could take more hits, but as they plowed through the spartoi, more of them charged in to create a wall of bones through their sheer numbers alone.

"Of course, you realize that your next shadow-jump will be your last," Bryce went on. "You know you don't have the strength to survive another. But by all means, take the Athena Parthenos."

Ane scoffed. "Ugh, I owe Hylla a slap for that one! I knew it would happen!"

She pulled out Kaze's weapon and summoned her bow. She swung around and dissolved the line of Bryce's spartoi that were trying to close in on her and keep her from reaching Bryce again. Her familiar was taking control of the armies from the Diocletian power while Ane charged at Bryce again. The wall of his spartoi was thick, and Ane's numbers were struggling to make it to Reyna while also helping Ane push through the line.

Nico glanced down. He still held his Stygian sword, but his hands were dark and transparent like smoky glass. Even in the direct sunlight, he was dissolving. "Stop this!"

"Oh, I'm not doing a thing," Bryce said. "But I am curious to see what will happen. If you take the statue, you'll disappear with it forever, right in oblivion. If you don't take it…well, I have orders to bring Reyna in alive to stand trial for treason. I have no orders to bring you in alive, or the faun."

"Satyr!" the coach yelled. He kicked a skeleton in its bony crotch, which seemed to hurt Hedge more than the redcoat. "Ow! Stupid British dead guys!"

Bryce lowered his javelin and poked the coach in the belly. "I wonder what this one's pain tolerance would be. I've experimented on all kinds of animals. I even killed my own centurion once. I've never tried a faun…excuse me, a satyr. You reincarnate, don't you? How much pain can you take before you turn into a patch of daisies?"

"Broken oaths…" Ane realized. She swung her bow and cleared out the redcoats around her, trying to charge in at Bryce once more. Ane had the power of Styx from the Curse that allowed her freedom from Tartarus. The wrath of Styx might give her some kind of edge against Bryce's constant oath-breaking.

Meanwhile Nico's anger turned as cold and dark as his blade. He'd been morphed into a few plants himself, and he didn't appreciate it. He hated people like Bryce Lawrence, who inflicted pain just for fun.

"Leave him alone," Nico warned.

Bryce raised an eyebrow. "Or what? By all means, try something Underworld-y, Nico. I'd love to see it. I have a feeling anything major will make you fade out permanently. Go ahead."

Ane glanced at Nico, but had to focus on swinging her weapon infused with her power to keep back the spartoi closing her in. Her skeletal troops from the power of Diocletian were holding the line to keep herself from getting taken over, and she was moving closer to both Nico and the line separating her and Hedge from Nico. She wanted to summon her entire army of Remnants to rip these redcoats apart, but she knew she'd never be able to sustain them all in this world.

Reyna struggled. "Bryce, forget about them. If you want me as your prisoner, fine. I'll go willingly and face Octavian's stupid trial."

"A fine offer." Bryce turned his javelin, letting the tip hover a few inches from Reyna's eyes. "You really don't know what Octavian has planned, do you? He's been busy pulling in favors, spending the legion's money."

Reyna clenched her fists. "Octavian has no right-"

"He has the right of power. You forfeited your authority when you ran off to the ancient lands. On August first, your Greek friends at Camp Half-Blood will find out what a powerful enemy Octavian is. I've seen the designs for his machines…even I'm impressed."

Nico's bones felt like they were changing into helium, the way they'd felt when the god Favonius turned him into a breeze. Ane locked eyes with Reyna before she redirected her gaze to Nico. Her strength surged through him - a wave of courage and resilience that made him feel substantial again, anchored to the mortal world. Of course! Ane forgot that Reyna's power could be used over a distance - unlike Ane who had to make direct contact with Nico to help him.

Even surrounded by the dead and facing execution, Reyna Ramírez-Arellano had a huge reservoir of bravery to share.

"Nico," she said, "do what you need to do. I've got your back."

Bryce chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. "Oh, Reyna. You've got his back? It's going to be so fun dragging you before a tribunal, forcing you to confess that you killed your father. I hope they'll execute you in the ancient way - sewn into a sack with a rabid dog, then thrown into a river. I've always wanted to see that. I can't wait until your little secret comes out."

'Until your little secret comes out.'

Bryce flicked the point of his pilum across Reyna's face, leaving a line of blood.

And Nico's rage exploded. Ane's poodle fell off of Ane's head from the sudden and loud screaming that Nico released.

Ane heard laughter ringing out throughout the area, a dark hum that couldn't be heard by mortal ears. She held up her hands, glowing with the bright green aura of Curse's power.

'Punish him. Punish he who you deem unjust. You hold judgment, the power to choose your fate - and that of others. Oathbreaker, do you have the strength to choose to damn another, playing a god beyond even the Fates? Even knowing you are as bad as him, perhaps worse, are you willing to accept your fate?'

"Do?" Ane's familiar jumped onto her shoulder.

She nodded towards the stuffed animal. "Right."

The air around Nico dropped to freezing, the ground blackened, and in one horrible cry, he unleashed a flood of pain and anger on everyone in the clearing. Ane, Reyna, and the coach experienced his journey through Tartarus, his capture by the giants, his days wasting away inside that bronze jar. They felt Nico's anguish from his days on the Argo II, and his encounter with Cupid in the ruins of Salona. They heard his unspoken challenge to Bryce Lawrence, loud and clear: 'You want secrets? Here.'

Ane dropped her hands to the ground and spread the power of Curse through the blackened ground, wisps of pale green magic gripping onto Nico's anguish and amplifying the power that it granted him.

The spartoi disintegrated into ashes, leaving Ane's warriors standing confused and alone - especially with Ane's poodle having fallen off and dropping the controls. The rocks of the cairn turned white with frost. Bryce Lawrence stumbled, clutching his head, both nostril bleeding.

"Uh oh," a voice crooned. Ane saw a punk girl that first mistook for Thalia Grace standing with her arms crossed a short distance away. "Looks like they have more juice than anticipated. I might've overdone it a little." She giggled. "I've always wanted to see this. Have fun, dear traitor." She wiggled her fingers at Bryce.

Nico marched towards him. He grabbed Bryce's probatio tablet and ripped it off his neck. "You aren't worthy of this," Nico growled.

The earth split under Bryce's feet. He sank up to his waist. "Stop!" Bryce clawed at the dirt and plastic bouquets, but his body kept sinking.

Ane calmly joined Nico looking down upon Bryce. Her Curse magic oozed from the crevice consuming Bryce and manifested into an army of wriggling hands, solidifying and grabbing onto Bryce's body, clawing at his clothing and grabbing his arms to prevent him from clawing at the ground.

"You took an oath to the legion." Nico's breath steamed in the cold. "You broke its rules. You inflicted pain. You killed your own centurion."

"I-I didn't! I-"

"You should've died for your crimes," Nico continued. "That was the punishment. Instead you got exile. You should have stayed away. Your father Orcus may not approve of broken oaths. But my father Hades really doesn't approve of those who escape punishment."

"Please!"

That word didn't make sense to Nico. The Underworld had no mercy. It only had justice.

"Your former punishment was unbefitting of a man of your twisted caliber," Ane spat. "The living deemed you worthy of mere exile. Now you shall now face the judgment of the dead. And I deem you guilty of the highest treason; you shall be condemned to the damnation of Tartarus's power."

"You're already dead," Nico declared. "You're a ghost with no tongue, no memory. You won't be sharing any secrets."

"No!" Bryce's body turned dark and smoky. He slipped into the earth, up to his chest. The hands from Ane's Curse now clawed at Bryce's neck and head, trying to pull and shove him down under. "No, I am Bryce Lawrence! I'm alive!"

The next sound from Bryce's mouth was a chattering whisper. His face became indistinct. He could have been anyone - just another nameless spirit among millions.

"Ane."

She reached down and patted the spirit on the head. "Bye-bye."

Her finger glowed and the light that was once Bryce Lawrence darkened, losing the energy that was even holding it in this plane of existence. Her poodle jumped onto her shoulder and Ane passed the light to it. The power of Orcus was absorbed into the stuffed animal, joining the power sapped from the scepter of Diocletian. Ane smiled, her eyes glowing with the sickly green glow of the Curse and the mild insanity of a monster from Tartarus.

"Begone," Nico ordered.

The hands of Curse multiplied and completely consumed the spirit, pulling whatever remained of it down into the crevice. The earth closed.

Nico looked back and saw that his friends were safe. Reyna and the coach stared at them in horror. Reyna's face was bleeding; Aurum and Argentum turned in circles, as if their mechanical brains had short-circuited.

Ane's skeletons were dismissed, shattering and collapsing. Nico collapsed along with them.

First Person: Emily

It had been a couple days I think.

Even with the sun to guide me, it was hard to keep track. For some reason, I couldn't remember if it had been three or four days.

Famine had returned from whatever Sandman had dragged her away to and had pulled me close to the bars with her prehensile hair, pressing her finger to my forehead. My body had instantly surged with a flood of energy, curing the thirst and hunger that had unconsciously been building throughout my entire stay. I hadn't been able to sleep that night, despite being wrapped in my comfortable blanket - not because I was uncomfortable in any way, but just because I wasn't tired.

Forge came in one time, knocked on the bars, then left. According to Famine, he was in charge of making sure that the prison was intact at regular intervals, and so that had been his lame attempt at saying that he'd checked that the prison was solid before going to work. I couldn't help my smile at how…well, how utterly human that was of him - the immortal creation of Hephaestus that was supposedly very inhuman.

"So I'm stuck here until…when exactly?" I inquired.

"Until August first is what Boss said," Famine informed me.

I sighed. "And then? On August first?"

"You will be brought with us to help subdue the Primordials."

"And what if I don't want to?"

"You'll want to. You may be strong, but we've multiple means of making you do what we want."

"And what if I can't? Like I told you before, I know what I'm supposed to do and that I can supposedly do it, but that doesn't mean I even know where to start. The Primordials…touching and moving them isn't something that you just learn to do."

Famine frowned. "Perhaps you do need some training…"

"Training?"

"Well yes. You're inexperienced and if you don't have proper training you'll be of no use to us. I've brought this up to Boss and the others, but Boss doesn't seem concerned and so neither are the rest."

"You all trust Boss unconditionally, don't you?"

"She's the strongest of us and no doubt the most intelligent. She has a prophetic sense, and so we always trust that she knows what she's doing when she tells us things and holds her tongue in other situations."

"So if you're all so smart and strong, why do you work for the Wards? Why don't you just run, do whatever you want, be free?"

Famine frowned, the energy draining from her eyes. "For many of us, it's all we've ever known."

"But Rei said you've been around for thousands of years, far longer than the Wards."

She shrugged. "I may be the only one. Forge is a machine brought to life by the Four Winds. He used to work in Hephaestus's workshop before he was taken in by the Wards; all he ever knew was servitude. Mirage is an immortal manifestation of the Mist, but they are very young, not much older than anyone else on the team. Iota's older, but not nearly as old as Forge or I. She has never been good at making decisions for herself. She supports others; she is not a leader. That is the story about most of the others - we have lived and been trained as servants, and the Wards only approved of our current position because they knew we would not stray."

"They put you under Boss?" I guessed. "She has a way to keep you all under control. But are you really loyal to her?"

"Yes," Famine answered immediately. Even from within my cell, I could sense her sincerity. "You have not seen what Boss has sacrificed for us, and how aware she is of our current situation. You do not see her as she is - or perhaps you do, but you only see what she intends you to see. Even I do not know all the layers within her, and I'm certain that she herself does not know who she is anymore."

"So she works for the Wards because she has no other choice, or is it that she has no other idea of where she can go?"

"Both. Or perhaps she is simply biding her time."

"And if she were to turn on the Wards, would you all follow her out of loyalty, because she's your friend and you agree with her, or would you turn on her because your duty is still to the Wards? Would you all agree or would some of you choose different paths? Because from all that I've heard, you all have your differences, but in the end you're family. Family is complicated. Family can turn on each other, have complicated ways of showing affection and hatred in equal amounts, but in the end, family sticks together."

Famine stared at me. For a moment, her face dropped into a mass of confusion and interest. Then, she recomposed herself again.

It was the eyebrows, the mouth, and the way her cheeks affected the shape of her eyes. Without my ability to feel emotions, I was paying attention to the subtle details of the face - particularly Famine's, since she was my most frequent visitor and the only one who stayed to talk. Famine's facial expressions were more subtle than most people's, but I'd had a lot of time to observe her during our little talks.

"Would you like to become a part of it?" she asked abruptly.

I couldn't help my surprised expression. I tried to maintain an air of indifference as best I could when it came to Famine - she was neither my friend nor (I hoped) my enemy. Keeping myself in that gray area was important to keeping her respect - I could neither come off as too comfortable nor too afraid. But this was genuinely unexpected.

"Really?" I blurted.

"The Wards forbid friendship even when they praise teamwork and proper cooperation. We have obviously chosen to neglect this rule - and we can only assume they knew what would happen. It's always best to believe they're many steps ahead of us and expect even the vaguest of scenarios. Us forming a familial unit of some kind was an inevitable conclusion of the creation of this team, which is why they put Boss in charge: she is the one they need to control and the one who will use us all. As you've no doubt learned, there are different levels of love and enigmatic care throughout the team, but above all, we do make the choice to respect and follow Boss of our own volition. If you will do the same, you can become a part of our team - our family. And if you do so, you may have a chance at convincing Boss that we should help your friends and your camps."

"Why?" I couldn't help asking. "Why would you want to help me? Just to get me on your side - me and my powers, supposed powers, on your side?"

"That may be a contributing factor, perhaps. You would be a powerful contribution to our team, Emily Hezesto. You are an anomaly, as we all are here. We were hoping to recruit Death and Ventus as well - the ones you call 'Azrael' and 'Kaze.' We are built of the strongest demigods born of unique ways our powers can be pushed to their limits."

"You're an army. You're built for war and destruction. I don't…I'm not a part of that. I fight with my friends to protect them, to protect the camps, to protect humans and regular people - to protect the world. I'm invincible; I'm a shield, not a sword. I fight battles from within, hide and outsmart rather than fight. And I'm the Hearth…I just want to be a safe haven and a home for others to return to when the fighting is over."

Famine's eyes shimmered. With pity? With interest? "I once ruled an empire, Emily Hezesto. I had friends, family, and those who taught me that being what am I is not a curse. I lost all those people to the Wards. I lost my people, those who I had sworn to protect. I had forgotten what it was like to feel for fallen comrades - until you healed me. I suppose…I suppose your camps remind me of the nation I had fostered; your dream for a home reminds me of the sanctuary that I wished to provide."

"Sanctuary…" I leaned forward to the bars of my cell. "What are you saying?"

"I want you to keep healing me, Emily Hezesto. I want you to help me keep my family together, to help Boss. In return, I will help you convince them to save your family and your camps and your world. Because of you, I now remember the flicker of what it meant to care about what happens to this world - to care what happens to nations that are meant to be sanctuaries. I do not want to see your people destroyed. And I do not want any of my family to perish, not again."

"Nike's warning…" I remembered.

'Someone will die from each and every one of your teams. From the Seven, from the Five, from the Thirteen. There is no avoiding death, no matter the power of your people. The Usurper will betray, as the Usurper before them did, and the one before him.'

"Someone will die-"

"From each of our teams - our families," Famine agreed. "Quake and some of the others went to spy on the giants in Athens and reported something about a 'Betrayer.' I know many languages; 'Usurper' and 'Betrayer' are close enough for me to become suspicious."

"If the gods call them the 'Usurper' and the giants call them the 'Betrayer,' it would make sense," I admitted. "And neither side indicated a gender, probably suggesting that they're gender-neutral to some extent. But the Usurper before this one was a male."

"Zeus was the last Usurper, I would guess. He overthrew his father Kronos, and Kronos-"

"-usurped the throne from Ouranos. Meaning that the next Usurper would be the one to take Zeus's throne."

Famine frowned. "There are many legends and myths of those who would destroy the gods, but back from my time, Zeus's child was destined to overthrow him - as Kronos's son and children were doomed to take the place of the Titans."

"I've heard of that before. Zeus had to purposefully not sleep with someone to prevent a dangerous kid and/or one who would overthrow him."

"More than that. Zeus had a first wife before Hera - a woman called Metis who assisted him in causing Kronos to throw up the other Olympians from his stomach. He learned that Metis was destined to bear the child that would one day take his throne."

"And not learning lessons from his father, he ate Metis and her unborn children. Not in a cannibalistic way - more like he absorbed her essence and wisdom into himself or something. But his daughter had already begun growing - and still did so even inside his head. Hephaestus had to help crack open Zeus's head and Athena popped out. Right."

"But she was destined to have a brother eventually born after her - a son that would overthrow Zeus as king of the gods. Quake's reconnaissance stated that the Betrayer was working with the Titan King and Typhon to prepare for their next move. Typhon was strong enough to scare the Olympians before - even beating Zeus in one instance, if not killing him."

"Wasn't Typhon a part of the war before this one, the second Titan War?"

She nodded. "The gods would have been destroyed if their demigod children had not convinced them to work together. Typhon is also said to overthrow Zeus. This Usurper, Typhon, and Kronos all working together…"

"Does you Boss know about this?"

"We must assume so. But now it is imperative that we prepare. You are capable of moving and containing the power of the gods within human hosts."

"You think I can do that with Kronos and Typhon…? Even this Betrayer…" I sighed. "It's a good plan in theory, but I still don't know how to even start doing any of that. We've got, what? Less than a week before August first; I've got no time to do any training."

"Less than a week is more than enough time if you're trained by the Wards. A day to learn to activate your powers, another to test activation requirements, the rest to practice and strengthen. Although you might break under the Wards' methods with your…delicate disposition. But I do believe you are a strong one, both physically and mentally, Emily Hezesto. I believe you will easily earn your place on this team."

I sucked in a deep breath. I didn't want to join a team of warriors like this, people who had lost most, if not all, sense of morality and who had pain and chaos etched into their very bones. It didn't take my power to have understood how manic these people were.

But based on all of Famine's stories…well, they were a family. Underneath it all, they were still part human in their own ways. Sure, Famine could be putting on a very good façade; I can't read her mind right now, nor her intentions or emotions, and even if I could, Famine was so complex yet in control of her emotions that I still doubted I'd be able to hold any advantage to be able to read her.

But looking at her now, I did believe she wanted to prevent anyone in her family from getting killed. To these people, who seemed so immortal and invincible, death must vary from being no threat at all to the worst thing they could imagine. Normally death did not threaten them, and so to face the real possibility that one or more of them would actually perish…

I thought about the crew of the Argo II.

The Seven. The Five. The Thirteen.

Boss's team was clearly the Thirteen; the Seven of the Prophecy were obvious as well.

That left Rei's team as the Five - but she had only chosen four of us: Rei herself, Veon, Audrey, and me. Rei, Veon, and Audrey all were related to the Big Three in some way, and I was the outlier in more ways than one. I guess you could count Kaze; maybe Rei hadn't intended for Kaze to be a part of the team, but perhaps her Primordial had. Kaze, whose death was filled with complications and whose life was filled with even more. And then there was Azrael. An outlier, a Reaper who is both dead and alive.

Kaze, Azrael, and Veon were all obviously related to the line between life and death at that point. Rei had complications with death considering her mother's power and the fact that her death only led to Ane and her Remnants before life was forced upon her again - Rei herself was incapable of dying at the moment. And then there was Audrey. Audrey who had been killed by Veon during his trials that one time - the same way Kaze had been killed during Rei's trials. Audrey who, like Kaze, had been brought back afterwards. She'd hosted some of the dead afterwards, including some of Rei's Remnants. She had faced down the armies of Tartarus and nearly got consumed by Tartarus himself.

All of them were connected to life, death, and what was in between.

What if I wasn't a part of the Five at all? I wasn't part of the Seven, I was being offered a place at least to be trained by the Thirteen. But I didn't belong in any one category specifically. I wasn't bound by their fates.

And I had the power to help them all. To be the Hearth to help them all find their way home.

"Okay," I finally said. "I won't join your team. But I'll help you. I'll help the Thirteen, the Seven, and the Five. I'll help the Greeks and the Romans." I thought of the story of Bob and Damasen. "I'll help heroes and monsters alike, I'll help friend and foe - I'll support whoever I must to stop the conflict. To fight that which threatens the peace."

"There will always be a threat to peace, Emily Hezesto."

"And there will always be those who fight to protect it. We were down there with the makhai, you remember? War and fighting have consequences. War and Love were attracted to each other; Fear and Panic were born of their union. No one can go to battle without having something they wish to fight for, something that they love. I will fight this battle for the sake of those who are striving to save their homes and families."

"Even Octavian? The Roman who has done such atrocious deeds claiming it is in the name of Rome?"

I snorted. "He may claim to fight for his homeland, but all he cares about is power and destruction. What he cares about is his ability to crush opposition and to rule by force. Even for a Roman, he's just a mad king. There have been many in the past; there are good leaders, and then there are bloodthirsty madmen who hurt their own people rather than fight for them. All they care about is themselves - their wealth, their power, their ego."

"Like the terrible emperors of old," Famine agreed. "But wealth and manpower can only get you so far. In the end, they are only men - men that can bleed, and what can bleed can be killed."

"I won't be a killer," I declared. "I won't kill whoever doesn't suit my needs - I won't become like them. My powers allow me to solve things peacefully, but I can't force people or things to be perfect! I mean…I could certainly try, but manipulating emotions and personalties like that, trying to reprogram people 'correctly' never works. There's a reason that even the gods can't just control all mortals to act the way they want and make everything perfect."

Famine gave a wry smile. "Well according to legends, that's because of Pandora."

"You know what I mean. Besides, even before Pandora, mortal men weren't just puppets of the gods. They had less chance of fallacies, but mortals still have so much choice and potential, and…and I can't just flip switches in people haphazardly."

"Then learn," Famine hissed. "Learn to manipulate your powers properly and use them how they were intended to be used."

"And how were they intended to be used?! Huh?!"

"I am part god, Emily Hezesto. I am told by gods and monsters alike that I should live my life as a god, but I chose to be a mortal. I rejected the offers to ascend to Olympus because that was not what I wanted with my life. I chose, instead, to use my power to protect demigod children from all walks of life, races, and even religions. I desired to protect them from monsters as well as the gods. And I'm not the only one. Your power, whatever it was intended to be, does not have to define you. Trust in yourself that you know what to do with it; and trust in your allies and friends and family to guide you if you believe you are going astray."

"Will you guide me? Stop me if I'm going astray?"

She raised an eyebrow. Even her eyebrows were a pale white against her dark, chocolate skin. "Is that your way of asking me to be your friend?"

"I guess it is." I chuckled, despite myself. "And is 'you offering to teach me and trying to flatter me by saying I'd survive the Wards' tough methods' your way of asking me to be your friend?"

She snorted, releasing a breathy laugh. "I suppose so."

"I wouldn't mind that," I admitted. "You're good company, when you're not all threatening and stuff. Even when you are, you're not so bad, really."

She smiled dryly. "Not many have the privilege of saying I am 'Not so bad.'"

I grinned at her, before my face fell. "You're part god, Famine. In the beginning, even now, do you ever wonder if your actions have greater weight than normal mortals? Does having the power of the gods - something you were just…born with, that you didn't choose…does it ever get scary to think that you're so powerful that you could wreck everything, be as bad as the horrible people you might abhor?"

She tilted her head, her living hair shifting curiously, like rippling water in a pond. "The power of too much choice as a burden?"

I nodded. "My friend got cursed by such a power. Her worst punishment was knowing that she could do something whenever something bad happens, that she was unrestricted by fate."

"Even the gods fear a lack of guidance. Taking the power of Apollo's Oracle - and any other Oracle that may help guide the gods through this war - was essential to the giants' and Gaea's plans."

"I was given the power to…well, to basically control every aspect of a person's personality. Even if I used it to eliminate the worst parts of a person, that imbalance…it's dangerous. I'm only human; I'm as fallible as anyone else. And to not only be able to manipulate mortals, but things as strong as the Primordials themselves…?"

"You're scared of yourself." Famine's expression was relaxed, even sympathetic. "You fear what a mortal having the power of the gods may yet yield."

"There are tons of stories of hubris involving mortals trying to gain immortality or strength to fight gods and demons, believing that their perception of good and evil and justice is the right one. I mean, sure, it seems easy to recognize a scum who abuses people or takes advantage of people or who kills people - or all of the above. But how do you properly punish something like that? If someone truly horrible grows a conscience, the guilt can end up actually breaking them! Such an imbalance could literally make them suicidal - or at the very least, so mentally broken and unstable that they can be put into some kind of mental hell."

"If they are truly malicious, I would not protest to such a fate." Famine paused, her brow creasing in thought. "Though I admit, if one is unaware of their punishment, it can indeed be unsatisfying. If they do not suffer the same equivalent feeling of pain and loss, I would not be satisfied, at least."

I shook my head and sighed. "Mortality gets complicated when you look too deeply into the nuances. What if someone's just scared? What if they have something to protect? What if someone else raised them that way, that they just…don't know any different?"

I realized half way through that I had just described what Famine had said her team was made of: people who simply didn't believe there was anything different in their future beyond this servitude.

"Is it right to judge a person when they have suffered the malevolence of another? Or what if it was just crappy luck and terrible circumstances that pushed them over the edge? Do I have to become ruthless and ignore such things, judging morality as right or wrong. Must I say, 'Regardless of that, it doesn't change the fact that you did X,Y, and Z; maybe you shouldn't have done these terrible things if you wanted my mercy'? Should I wish them to have continued suffering whatever terrible circumstances pushed them over the edge until they died, rather than committed terrible crimes upon others instead? It's just all too much to think about at times…"

Famine was silent for a few beats. "Emily Hezesto, why do you see camaraderie in my teammates?"

I met her stony gaze. "Huh?"

"We are terrible people, who have committed terrible crimes. We possess the power to fight, torment, and kill gods and mortals alike, and we make people suffer. So why do you still see through that and recognize we are a family?"

"Well…isn't it obvious? Even terrible people have things they care for. Like the makhai represented, you can't go to war without caring about something - even if what you care about is just some greedy reason like power, fame, wealth, etc. But…caring for other people is different. Caring for other people means that you understand what it means to value lives that are not your own, that you recognize suffering and want to prevent it not for yourself but for another. It means that you can feel pain that's not your own, pain from another's pain. Such sympathy is what draws the line between my definition of 'good' and 'evil.' By my definition, you have a family, and regardless of what that family does, I believe you can be a force for good, that you can be redeemed."

"There is something my former mentor taught me: 'It is okay to have desires; it depends on how you use them.' That applies to many things. It is okay to have power; it just depends on how you use it. It is okay to have opinions; it depends on how you use them. If a bystander is only able to watch as abuse happens before their very eyes, what makes the difference? Would you support someone who calls themselves 'scum of the earth' for remaining silent to save their own skin, or would you say the one who simply revels in their safety regardless of what they see before them possibly redeemable?"

"Real scum would never call themselves 'scum of the earth' - at least, they would never say it in earnest. People who call themselves evil, regardless of whether they're scolding themselves or bragging about it, are at least honest with themselves."

Famine's lips tugged into a slight smirk, as if she'd gotten what she wanted. "You are honest with yourself, Emily Hezesto. You may not have used the precise wording, but you believe yourself 'scum' - you believe your power means you are overstepping your bounds as a mortal. You are an honest woman, you understand the weight of your burden. Is that not enough to believe you are redeemable? You will commit crimes, perhaps, though I don't believe they will ever be in earnest. So long as you remain your own worst critic, you will be held in check. You should not fear using your power so long as you know you are not above judgment - your own."

"Is that what you do? You believe you are enough to judge yourself?"

She shrugged. "That, and I know I am far from all-powerful. My mentor, for example, is stronger than I. When it comes to fighting the gods, I know that I would not be a match for all of them. That is why my team was built: even the Wards know that not a single one of us can fight the gods alone."

"Is your mentor more powerful than me?"

She smirked. "Oh, I would enjoy seeing you clash with her. In terms of raw power, yes. In terms of magical and emotional manipulation? It's up in the air. Maybe you will meet her one day. If you indeed disrupt the balance, you will meet her resistance, no doubt."

"Who is she? She's obviously as old as you…"

Famine laughed. "Oh no, she's not. She's a few centuries younger than me, in fact. But she has taken it upon herself to decide what is right and wrong in this world. She is rigid and flexible, human and very much not so. Her creation is complicated, as it is for many of us. It's a dangerous and impossibly grand task to bear the weight of judgment, but she formed a governing body that keeps control of the supernatural realm."

"Where is she in this battle then?"

"Maybe we'll meet her again, maybe we won't. I haven't seen her in a long time; you would think that immortals would meet each other in a world this small. Does she believe all will work out? Or does she not even know what's happening? I can never tell how powerful and wise she is, for she-"

"-appears so human?" I guessed.

Famine nodded. Her smile was filled with that ancient kind of fondness, with so much more wisdom behind her eyes than could be possibly portrayed on the surface. "She is part human, she is fallible as well."

"But she chose to make a…supernatural government? She chose to dictate what was right and wrong…?"

"Arrogant, some may call her. But she indeed tried to take into account the feelings and benefits of others. She took the opinions of every supernatural she could into account, and she has multiple branches, divisions, and methods of hearing pleas so that the rules can be revised through debate."

"Politics? Oh, she must be a real badass to be able to handle politics."

Famine laughed. Her ethereal air weakened when she laughed, but her laugh was indeed very beautiful. It reminded me she was human, even if she was supposedly a god of some kind. "Yes. Imagine the politics within America, but on a global scale and with supernaturals to take into account."

"Supernaturals, like…not just Greek mythology, huh?"

Famine nodded. "Every religion, every belief system. She's the only reason that the many religions, monster breeds, deities, etc. haven't torn each other apart in a vie for power. You think Greek versus Romans are bad? Imagine Olympians versus the Norse gods, Hinduism versus Christianity, Navajo versus Japanese - where all believe only their system is allowed to reign supreme."

"Must be a lot to handle, bringing all those really different cultures together."

"Indeed. Another reason I look up to her. 'There are more things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.' There will always be more to learn, good days and bad days, evolving beliefs and standards of morality."

"And did she teach you how to handle such a burden - such power - knowing you can and will make mistakes?"

Famine nodded. "She did. Once. Before I lost my memories."

"Then I'll help you regain them. If you'll teach me as well, how to handle the fear and burden of power."

"I can do that, so long as you truly dedicate yourself to ascending to the heights of your power that I know you are capable of. To save your people, and to save mine."

"Well then. I suppose we have a deal."

I held my hand through the bars of my prison. Famine's gaze fell to my palm, as though she had nearly forgotten what a handshake was. But then she reached out, her dark skin contrasting against my pale skin, and clasped my hand in her own. Her hand was cold, even as it pulsed with life.

"We have a deal," she agreed.