Since our conception in 1911, the top-secret Handling of Immortals, Demigods, and Enhanced Unit (or more commonly, the H.I.D.E. unit) has been the liaison between the divine and earthly world. We specialize in the relations, diplomatic and otherwise, between the inhabitants of Olympus and the United States government and mitigate disasters brought about by, or in relation to, such inhabitants. With a varied staff that included the likes of Robert F. Kennedy to the Wright Brothers to Amelia Earhart, the effects of our work can still be felt today.

Yancy Academy, NY

04:15 local time

It was the smell that got to me first. Rotten cauliflower, long-forgotten tennis shoes stuffed in a locker — it was like Yancy Academy had absorbed every drop of sweat, every bodily fluid, ever shed within its ugly, ugly walls. A breathing, pulsating sponge.

But let me introduce myself: I'm Lyra Song and I don't care what they tell me to say — I hate my job. On a spectrum of "I'd give up my paid vacation days for this career" to "middle school substitute teacher," I was firmly in the latter.

Right now, literally. Or at least, posing as one.

The imposing brick building loomed in front of me, stark against the dark April morning. Chiron was waiting by the entrance, looking oddly small in his wheelchair. "Lyra," he greeted with a half smile as I approached. "Or, perhaps Agent Song is more appropriate? How has HIDE been treating you?" He leaned back to appraise my state, lips pursed in a thin line.

"Chiron, stop worrying so much." The centaur had certainly worried over me more than my mother. "You know I love working with HIDE." I could practically hear Hermes laughing at me from somewhere in Olympus.

Let me give you some background. The HIDE unit name is a bit of a misnomer because it's less of a unit, and more of a massive, supersecret government agency tasked with the handling of Olympus. If you're into superhero movies, we're kind of like SHIELD — our director is a cyclops, for gods' sakes. We employ all sorts of people — demigods, perceptive mortals, the occasional monster, and the even more occasional minor god.

Relations are pretty friendly — we help with retrieving demigods, soothing over the legal side (seriously; I do not envy the legal department) when things head south, and every now and then even throw together the rare gala for gods, demigods, immortals alike.

Nevertheless, it came as little surprise to me that Chiron was concerned for my well being in such an organization — I was a demigod, even if it was only Aphrodite (don't tell her I said that). And everyone knew that demigods had the highest mortality rate in field work for HIDE.

Chiron cleared his throat as he wheeled his chair through the door. However badly the school smelled, nobody could deny that its interior looked like it had been designed by the same guys who built Notre Dame or Westminster Abbey. Or Hogwarts. I envisioned myself as a chess piece, a pawn, navigating the austere black-and-white checked tiles as we strolled through the halls. It was strangely fitting.

"Well, Lyra, it's always a pleasure to work with HIDE. Please pass on my thanks." Then he knit his eyebrows together, which usually meant he'd done some serious thinking. "Now, will you tell me why they're sending in their medic as a field agent?"

"Oh, just a standard evaluation — they don't want my field skills to get rusty is all." I found myself babbling. I'd always been a terrible liar and he knew it. Truth was, HIDE suspected there was something different about the kid I was sent to monitor — something the gods weren't telling us. As someone with (minimal) charmspeak — but clearly poor deception skills — I was there to find out. Plus, Aphrodite kids weren't as easily detectable by monsters, given that we posed less of a threat to them than others, like children of Ares.

I pretended to fiddle with a button on the cuff of my perfectly-buttoned sleeve as his gaze pierced me. He always had this way of making you want to tell him everything — like he already knew what you'd done, and was just waiting for you to 'fess up; my friends and I used to call it the "centaur stare" back at camp. (Hey, we weren't blessed with an abundance of creativity.)

Finally, Chiron sighed. I'm not sure if he was disappointed with me for not telling him everything or if he understood I couldn't divulge the details of my mission but I guess he figured he wouldn't be able to get anything out of me. I felt the familiar roiling sensation in my stomach, and suppressed a wave of nausea. Gods, I was a terrible liar.

He directed me to his office and offered me the seat opposite from him, crowded with books. The room was messy, but the kind of messy you'd expect from a professor: Ovid jostled with Homer for space on his shelf and papers littered his desk. He pulled out a battered file with the HIDE emblem and offered it to me. "The student in question is one Percy Jackson. Twelve years old, severe ADHD and dyslexia."

"Any idea of the parent?" I asked, flipping it open.

Chiron avoided my eye — never a good sign. "We have no idea. He hasn't yet been claimed." I could see right through his fib, which made me feel a little bit better. At least we both knew the other was lying. "Mrs. Dodds, the algebra teacher, is a suspected monster — and one of the more powerful ones too. Be cautious around her," he warned. "Do you have some kind of protection against them?"

I dodged the question, not feeling up to explaining that I had brought a non-HIDE sanctioned one. "What kind of monster?" I asked. A knock sounded at his door and my heart skipped a beat.

"That would be Grover," he said, inclining his head. "Percy's keeper."

Recognition sparked in my mind faintly. "Grover? You mean…?"

Chiron sighed. "Yes, that Grover." Then his tone grew hard. "I would — and I'm sure he would as well — appreciate your discretion concerning his previous mission."

I nodded tightly as Chiron let him in. Five years ago, if I remembered correctly, Grover had been at the heart of some kind of scandal, involving a daughter of Zeus? That was after my time at camp. I frowned to myself. That didn't make sense. The Big Three weren't allowed to have kids, not since — gods, I needed to brush up on my history.

Grover stuck out his hand. I shook it. Young, nervous looking, slight even by satyr standards, he fit the role of a middle schooler perfectly. I did my best to give him a reassuring smile — an "I'm on your side", but he just looked like he was about to throw up.

In the hall, Grover led me to the teacher headquarters, rambling out loud all the way. My room was cramped and more than a little dusty; if Yancy was built like a cathedral, my room was the convent.

I paged through the HIDE-issued file on the subject. Sea-green eyes peered back into my own from a minute photograph pinned to the inside cover. A familiar tightness built up in my chest; Percy Jackson was twelve years old — a baby, by any standards. He didn't deserve this at such a young age. No one did.

Gods help me.

Yancy Academy, NY

09:15, local time

I stood ramrod straight in the empty classroom, every dark strand tucked perfectly back into a bun. My mother would have a meltdown if she saw me dressed the way I was — frumpy white blouse with a chokingly tight collar, plaid blazer and matching skirt, but hey, I was dressing the part of a middle school teacher.

The first bell chimed. Students began filing in, talking, joking, laughing to each other. Grover shuffled in alongside a dark haired boy that I recognized immediately: Percy. The late bell rang. Time to begin class.

I cleared my throat. A few kids gaped at me, noticeably confused by my appearance — the prisms of colors in my eyes, and my Asian-American complexion certainly looked out of place with the other teachers I'd seen at Yancy, who were predominantly white. (The eyes were natural, a courtesy of my mother.) For the most part, though, the class kept on chattering. I cleared my throat again. "Settle down, class." Gods, gods, gods, I already hated this. The class settled down and I pasted my smile on. "I'm your new English teacher, Ms. Watt. I'm so excited to —"

The door banged open before I got a chance to finish. In the doorway stood the angriest-looking old woman I had ever seen. Mrs. Dodds jabbed a finger in my direction. I didn't dare glance at Grover, but I could see from the corner of my eye that he looked like he was about to pass out. "Ms. Watt, a word." Her eyes looked mean enough to burn a hole right through my head, the way she was glaring.

I fumbled for a reply. "Mrs. Dodds! I, uh, uh — would you please —"

If anything, her gaze turned angrier. I wouldn't have been surprised if she had been spitting sparks. "Now, honey."

Recognizing defeat, I followed her out into the hall, feeling for all the world like a child caught stealing from the candy jar. She shut the door on the class's hushed whispers. Boy, I was in for it.

Without warning, the leathery old lady grabbed me by the lapels and shoved me up against the wall with surprising strength. "Who sent you?" she hissed into my face. Her breath smelt of beef and onion. I tried not to gag.

I shoved her off. "Primrose Teaching Agencies," I snarled back. Best to play it stupid, right? "You know, where Yancy hires."

Then she got up in my face. At five feet, four inches, on a good day, I wasn't tall by any means, but Mrs. Dodds didn't look like she broke five feet at all and was scarier than she had any right to be. "Don't you play stupid with me girl. I won't hesitate to tear your pretty eyes right out of your —"

"Mrs. Dodds," a new voice rang out authoritatively. She immediately dialed it back, metaphorical sparks of anger fading into nothing. Dr. Hansen was the bearded, fifty year-old principal — no, headmaster, I corrected myself — of Yancy. He strode forward, thrusting an intervening hand between the two of us. "What in God's name is going on?"

What an disastrous first impression. I straightened up. "Mrs. Dodds had a question about my teaching record," I said, making eye contact with him. Sometimes, that was enough to convince someone — if I had dared use charmspeak in front of Mrs. Dodds, she'd have me figured out in seconds.

He raised a brow and turned to the lady in question. Take that, you old hag, I thought triumphantly. "I assume there to be no further problems between you and Ms. Finnegan, Mrs. Dodds. You have my assurances that Ms. Watt came with nothing short of the highest praises from Primrose."

Relief flushed through me. I wasn't going to be fired on my first day at Yancy after all. Then again, I was posing as an English teacher but I had dyslexia — some secretary back at HIDE definitely had it out for me. Mrs. Dodds didn't look too pleased, but she grit her teeth anyway and gave a smile that made her look physically ill.

Dr. Hansen and I watched her go. He clapped a hand to my shoulder. "Mrs. Dodds isn't all that bad," he told me kindly. "She's just a little aggressive to new staff, sometimes."

If only he knew the half of it.

The rest of the day went off without a hitch. A couple of weeks passed. Mrs. Dodds still gave me the evil-eye, inciting rumors that flew around the school that I made no attempt to put out. It was easier to get a read on Percy then.

Sometimes, I'd catch him falling asleep in class, which probably should have irritated me but hey, I wasn't actually a teacher; my teaching style wasn't exactly invigorating. I wasn't Chiron, who somehow had the energy to put on mock tournaments for his students. Plus, Percy was a nice kid at heart, and had a bit of a protective streak. Especially when it came to his friends, which was pretty much just Grover.

Here's an example. I was on lunchroom duty this one day — maybe about two weeks after I'd first come to Yancy — and keeping an eye on Percy because Mrs. Dodds was the other monitor and she seriously hated his guts. Grover and Percy were in line for the water fountain — I know, not an activity I'd typically consider sociable, but I suppose middle school really limits your range of activities — when this girl, Nancy Bobofit, shoved Grover's face into the spray of the fountain.

Let me get a couple of things straight: Nancy Bobofit suffered from kleptomania and a severe learning disability, and from what I've heard, a very strict home life. But she was also a bully.

Before I could intervene — before anyone could intervene — the water fountain exploded. And I don't mean the water pressure increased or anything; it was like every droplet of water in those pipes were pulled apart in every direction imaginable with an unfathomably loud fwoosh, drenching everyone within ten feet. Water dripped down my face and I looked on with the crowd in disbelief.

Unfortunately, that included Mrs. Dodds. A beat of silence, as everyone drank in the aftermath (haha, I know I'm funny). And then Nancy pointed at Percy, who had been miraculously spared from the onslaught, screwed up her face, and screamed, "It was Percy! I saw him break the water fountain!"

Another beat of silence and then "Mr. Jackson," came from Mrs. Dodds the same exact moment I went "Percy, come with me."

This seemed to start him out of his daze. "What—I swear I didn't even touch it—Nancy's lying—" The crowd was murmuring and Nancy looked on smugly.

My mind raced. First there was the issue of what the hell happened and second was the issue of the math teacher. "Mrs. Dodds, I can handle—"

"You'll be quiet, Ms. Watt, if you know what's good for you," she snapped immediately. More noises of interest rippled through the bystanders. I couldn't imagine what their day must have been like; first a student seemingly sabotages the water fountain, then the two teachers supposed to resolve it are going head-to-head. Surreal.

Someone cleared their throat. "Mrs. Dodds, why don't you take Ms. Bobofit and Ms. Watts can take Mr. Jackson?" Chiron. I sneaked a glance behind me, quietly and profoundly grateful that I wasn't dealing with what I suspected was a literal demon from hell by myself.

A moment; she held, wavered, and grumbling, acquiesced. I touched Percy gently on the shoulder. "Come on."

Still a little shell-shocked, he followed. We navigated the chessboard halls — him in silence, and me with weak small talk. At last, as we got to my office, he turned to me. "I swear I didn't mean to," Percy told me, eyes begging me to believe him.

Sympathy swam through me. "Take a seat." He sat. This kid had no idea what was going on, and zero control over...well, over whatever it was that he could do. "It's alright, Percy, I believe you," I said quietly. Should I tell him what he was? Nobody should have to go through this blindly, and yet—

"What?" he asked, snapping me out of my train of thought. "What is it?" Oh gods, was I that easy to read? What was I thinking? Chiron would have my head; HIDE would have my job.

I slipped on an easy smile, that I hoped was reassuring. "No, no, nothing — of course there was nothing you could have done to prevent the water fountain from, uh," I fumbled for words, "malfunctioning like that." He frowned and looked like he wanted to say more, but then shut his mouth again. I inwardly blessed this kid. "No, listen, I know these things happen, alright? Just be careful next time." There. Was that subtle enough?

School let out a couple of months later. Mrs. Dodds disappeared after a field trip with Chiron, and was promptly replaced with some perky blonde. Chiron refused to tell me what had happened; I caught him and Grover whispering to each other when they thought I wasn't looking, but I wasn't planning on snitching on whatever conspiracy they were up to to HIDE.

At this point, I was pretty sure I knew why Chiron had come out here to monitor Percy. After the water fountain stunt, it couldn't have been more obvious. I just really, really hoped I was wrong.

A/N

Hello! I'm really just experimenting around here — man, it's been forever since I've really been active on this site — but consider this a sample of what's to come. I really just wanted to gauge reader reaction just to this idea. I have it all outlined and the story is about halfway written, so I hope to publish it all when the new series premieres on Disney+ (fingers crossed).

PJO brings me a huge amount of nostalgia so this was incredibly entertaining to write. Let me know what you all think! Thanks for reading!

-Rain