Chapter 3
The Suicide Squad
We thought the name was a good joke at first. Who wouldn't? Luke made a very convincing Rick Flag, and Nightshade of course was a combination of Deadshot and Katana armed with a bow and arrows. Jackson? He was the Joker, nothing else made sense. I know what you're going to say, there was no Amanda Waller and the explosive collars. You're deadly wrong: the explosives were just out of sight. The big boss of the Suicide Squad was the Master of Olympus.
It was supposed to stay a joke. Breaking through the armies of Hades and invading the Underworld was impossible without a massive army. The only sure way to go to Hell was to die...and there isn't any return from that.
Besides, one look at them was enough to know these boys and girls were likely going to kill each other before they met a single enemy. There wasn't a plan, and in forty-eight hours, they weren't likely to find one. There wasn't any divine help coming, and Chiron certainly wasn't going to give advice to the infuriating son of Poseidon.
This Great Quest was going to fail. And as they disappeared into the darkness, we forgot them and continued the war preparations.
This was, in hindsight, a monumental mistake.
Extract from the Prologue of Chronicles of the Suicide Squad, by Malcolm Pace, son of Athena.
7 May 2006, New Byzantium, New York coastline, United States of America (de jure)
The Poseidon Barrack was a living arrangement which had only advantages, as far as Perseus was concerned.
It was silent. It had no current Demigod save him, meaning any spies and treacherous lieutenants would need to be invited to have a chance to succeed in their betrayals and plots.
It had an enormous amount of storage places for his legitimates and less-than-legitimate possessions.
It was protected from the wrath of a childish Lord of Thunder.
It had a superb view on the entire bay of New Byzantium.
It had private baths, showers, and fountains, so much ablutions and any use of water didn't require stepping outside.
And it had a consecrated pool for private communications with Atlantis, and given its nature and the numerous runic carvings on the walls of the room, it was a given neither Zeus nor any God who wasn't a water deity would be able to listen to the doors.
They would – maybe – detect the communication existing in the first place and assume he was speaking with his father.
Let them think about the wrong scenario; he wasn't interested in chatting with his genitor for now.
Several magical rings of minor value – for him – were thrown into the pool as offerings. That was something he had been able to discover last evening: the Demigods didn't seem to realise that while a Drachma-offering was very good for an average conversation with your friends, the Gods expected something better if you wanted their attention.
The better the offering, the faster the God...or in this case the Goddess would answer.
His present must have been considered good, for two seconds later, a wave washed his naked feet, and the three-dimensional appearance of the Goddess Amphitrite, wife of Poseidon, Protector of Dolphins, appeared before him.
"Perseus Jackson, this is unexpected," Perseus could see that. The Gods and Goddesses generally made an effort to keep a human-like appearance before their human followers, but today Amphitrite wasn't. While her upper body was those of a Queen bearing a crown of bronze and emeralds, a golden trident in one of her hands, her lower body was definitely sea snake or something similar. "Must I summon my husband?"
"Not at all, Magnificent Queen of the Seas," the Demigod replied cheekily, "I wanted to assure you first of my eternal friendship."
Amusement appeared on the Goddess' lips.
"Didn't you promise the same thing to Ares a week ago before going upon ransacking the Amazon's properties?"
"His domain is War. Should my actions not be considered the truest form of friendship for him?"
"I see you are as gifted with your tongue as the rumours suggested." The Queen of the Seas complimented him before her visage turned neutral once more. "Why did you contact me?"
"Because you are, if my contacts are correct, the Keeper of the Keys and the Treasury Minister of Atlantis."
"Your contacts are correct." Green eyes very similar to his stared at him. "Your financial needs for the next year, should you survive it, have been calculated and already sent to the vault under your Barrack."
"And I am deeply grateful for it," he would have to check after breakfast, "but I did not open this communication for my finance problems. Besides offering you eternal friendship, it so happens I have a little problem to recruit enthusiastic minions for a certain Great Quest."
In fact, besides the two Demigods and the Huntress who had 'volunteered', the only seat guaranteed to be filled was the one of the Ares cabin – their 'selection tournament' must have begun one hour ago.
"Are you surprised? This Great Quest has been rigged to explode in a monumental failure. In the first days after the theft, maybe a small group of Demigods would have had a chance to break through the Underworld. Now it is too late, even the most unstable fissures underwater are heavily trapped. I am aware of the circumstances which led you to accepting it, but you have to realise it is doomed to failure."
"Doomed to failure is an exaggeration," the insane Demigod grinned. "As it happens, I think I have a pretty solid plan to invade the Underworld."
The scales materialised everywhere on the 'human' part of the body, and his father's wife appeared to be more and more snake-like.
"Interesting," the Trident pulsed with green power, and it engulfed the Barrack. "You appear to be entirely truthful...what do you want?"
"I would humbly request," despite the amicable tone, Perseus didn't doubt Amphitrite would be able to beat him in one tail strike if he insulted her by mistake, "to obtain a written form promising a sizeable sum of Drachmas for every Demigod who will manage to return the symbol of power of your husband. This would give me sizeable leverage to recruit several Demigods and Demigoddesses of New Byzantium."
"We always intended to reward the heroes who would return the Trident of my husband, Perseus," and to her credit, the black-haired Goddess seemed sincere.
"I know this, your Majesty, and you know it too. But given how this Quest was presented last evening, I doubt the Camp Councillors of New Byzantium shared this confidence around. The Lord of Olympus," no way he was going to call him by his name and give him the possibility to spy on him, "has made it clear the concept of this Great Quest is abhorrent to him. Obviously, he has not said openly and vocally he will punish those who will return to him the Master Bolt...but he hasn't exactly said he will reward them, either."
"That God..." It was too bad he had not been able to learn High Atlantean, because the muttered words of Amphitrite didn't seem to be complimentary. "Very well, Perseus. You have a point. For every Demigod who participates into this Great Quest, Atlantis is ready to pay two million Drachmas each should the Trident be returned to the hands of my husband at the end of the day. As long the Quest is successful and the Demigods stayed loyal to Atlantis, I will personally deliver the funds to the Demigods' accounts or their next of kin, if they happen to perish in the service of duty."
"Thank you, your Majesty."
"Do not think I am doing you that great of a favour, Perseus," the scales began to fade anew. "You will be far from the seas and sources of water of this world, and as I'm sure you are aware, the Huntress of Artemis has received the order to execute you as quickly as possible. If any children of Athena are sent with you, their mission will likely be the same. And while gold can buy the loyalty of someone temporarily..."
"Anyone can be outbid," the son of Poseidon nodded.
"Yes," the Goddess approved before frowning. "Zeus is trying to intercept this communication. I have to close it on my end. The paperwork for Atlantis' financial rewards will be sent in a few hours...and make it clear we will offer no reward for a restitution of the Master Bolt!"
He couldn't help but chuckle as the waters of the pool returned to their deceptive placidity a second later.
"Well, I have what I want," the black-haired Demigod laughed. "Now it's time to assemble the Suicide Squad."
The summon letter came while he was eating breakfast, delivered by a grimacing gargoyle. And of course it was addressed to 'my treacherous lieutenant Ethan Nakamura'. The son of Nemesis didn't know if she should be relieved Perseus Jackson had not 'adjusted' his name on purpose, or afraid the first letter of the son of the Earthshaker had turned his attention towards him permanently. Knowing what Damian had to say about the Great Quest, it was likely the latter.
He was not given the tour of the famous Barrack which had stayed closed to all visitors since World War 2: Jackson was waiting for him in the antechamber. His naked feet were plunged into one of the numerous pools, with just a swimsuit preserving his modesty.
Ethan didn't miss the fact that for all his 'madness', Jackson was as muscled as a child of Ares of the same age. The incident of Detroit wasn't a fluke, and you didn't get that kind of body by slacking off from dawn to dusk.
"Ah my treacherous lieutenant!" And so it began. "I wanted to express my great disappointment you haven't already volunteered for this legendary Great Quest!"
"The only think which is going to be legendary in this whole affair is going to be the demise of those stupid enough to participate, Jackson." The black-haired son of Nemesis retorted, hand on his sword to give himself some courage to face whatever madness Jackson had in store for him. "Unless I've misunderstood, we're supposed to invade Hell...and we won't be even paid for it!"
"Right on the first, wrong on the second," the son of Poseidon raised a mocking finger. "I have been given assurances by Higher Powers that if the Trident is recovered and returned to its legitimate owner, we will be paid, my treacherous lieutenant. The paperwork is on its way, and two million Drachmas for sure will be delivered to each survivor...or their next of kin."
Ethan frowned. Damn the son of the Lord of the Seas was good. But he rapidly blocked this incentive by a negative counter of his own.
"It doesn't matter. I mean, it's nice and all, but it can be two, ten, or one hundred million, it is just words in the end, since accomplishing this Quest is impossible. All the known entrances of Hell are guarded by immense armies, and you're not good enough to beat five or ten Legions of skeleton veterans on your own, Jackson."
"You're not completely wrong about that," the green-eyed crazy Demigod agreed readily. "But my plan does not rely upon smashing my head against the Hollywood Army of the Rich One."
Ethan didn't laugh at the very, very bad pun.
"You have a plan? You? I thought it was more 'infuriating everyone' and spread as much chaos as you can while you're stealing everything."
"And you think that happens without planning, my treacherous lieutenant?" The devilish smirk was back. "Unlike several deities we shouldn't name, I always think about the repercussions of my actions before doing something. I certainly wouldn't have been caught swearing something like the Great Oath in 1945."
It wasn't exactly reassuring, oh no.
"But yes, I have a plan which will allow us, in your own words, to invade Hell. I will concede it is not perfection incarnate, but I estimate the chances of reaching the Rich One's domain at eighty percent."
This was high, for such a dangerous Quest.
"And for the journey which comes after?"
"Do you think I have spies in my uncle's domain? I do not. We will have to rely upon skill and wits to accomplish the mission once there."
"There is no 'we', Jackson," the son of Nemesis made it clear. "Besides even for the first part of your plan, you don't give any details-"
"Of course not," the other Demigod scoffed. "I have no wish to see our enemies ambush us the second we leave New Byzantium. This city and everything near it are very welcoming, but let's not pretend anything stay a secret for more than a few seconds once two of its denizens are aware of it."
Ethan grimaced but didn't find something good to reply. The son of Poseidon wasn't wrong at all. Well, no, that wasn't right, there was something he could say.
"The Questers still like having some information about what they are supposed to face before jumping."
"Funny," Perseus calmly declared after an eyewink, "I thought the very purpose of the Quests was to earn glory and money when facing unknown dangers."
"This is not-"
"Such cowardice is disgusting," the son of Poseidon hissed, and in a second, the madness returned to the surface, the mask of friendship and sanity discarded, "I have heard your half-brothers and half-sisters speak, you know. I heard them as they murmured how your mother isn't getting the respect she deserves, how you, her children, are constantly forgotten and despised, denied every Quest of importance, how you don't have a proper divine holy day to celebrate, how your Barrack is too small and so on. Yet at the moment everything is decided, you are stepping back, not jumping ahead."
"If this Quest fails, we will be butchered, that is if we're not already dead!" Ethan shouted. "And if we succeed, we will be 'heroes' who will have preserved exactly what we hate! Do you think the Council of Olympus will change anything if tensions ease and peace returns?"
"Of course not, my treacherous lieutenant," the green-eyed Demigod then lowered his voice. "But there is Peace, and there is peace. And as the first...intermediaries...to speak with a certain God of the Underworld, we will certainly have a great deal of influence over said 'peace'. Will it be truly back to the status quo...or merely the absence of overt hostilities?"
"This is..." Ethan swallowed, not deigning utter the last word. Treason.
"Yes, this is madness," the younger half-blood warrior finished the sentence for him. "But what is a villain without madness?"
"I am not a villain. The Questers are all heroes."
For the first time of this conversation, Perseus Jackson gave him a look of pity.
"Dear, your allegiance goes to a guy who throws lightning bolt at anything which constitutes a threat when he has a fit of paranoia, which happens to him three times per week. You are sent on Quests, which, despite all the nice tales, don't care very much about morality or anything ethical as long as you accomplish them. You are supposed to be good little servants, not ask any deranging questions, and enjoy dangerous lives which make sure almost none of you survive to retire. I have a definition for this, and it's not 'heroes'."
He shouldn't have let the bastard speak. That was Ethan's first thought. Jackson's so-called crimes were dangerous for everyone, but his most dangerous weapon was his voice, that much he was sure of.
"Two million Drachmas for each volunteer?" the son of Nemesis asked rhetorically, giving a glare to the other Demigod so he avoided the gloating and the posturing. This was six million Aurei, or twenty-five million Roman Denarii. Thirty thousand times the yearly income of a Legion's centurion.
"Two million Drachmas for each volunteer," Perseus Jackson repeated, "when we successfully complete the Great Quest with the Suicide Squad."
Ethan groaned internally at the atrocious name.
"What now?"
"Now, I need your expertise," the son of Poseidon admitted. "I have a good idea of what sort of skill set I want in this group, but I don't know where to look for, and I haven't the time to introduce myself to the Questers available one by one."
"You know Castellan will want to make his recruitment too, right?"
"Yes, he will, and without any financial or reward incentives, how do you think it's going to go for him?" The black-haired member of Bungalow Sixteen winced. "Exactly. I think he will recruit one or two Demigods, but I'm not ready to bet on something more than that. Now let's return to the profile of our 'volunteers'."
The smile grew hungrier and more vicious.
"I want a Sorcerer."
There were barely ten minutes before it was ten in the morning, and Luke so far had found a single volunteer...a volunteer he had every reason to desire she stayed as far away from this Great Quest as possible.
"Annabeth, be reasonable..."
"I am reasonable!" the child of Athena of course immediately protested. "During Great Quests, the age limit of thirteen doesn't apply and-"
"Annabeth," the son of Hermes was forced to strike his desk once to stop her nonsense. "The guys around the camp can laugh about Jackson's 'Suicide Squad' joke all they want, but the problem is that he isn't wrong. This Great Quest is beyond the Gold, Silver, and Bronze Quests handed out every year. It isn't merely dangerous; it is truly suicidal."
"But you need someone to watch over this disloyal son of Poseidon...besides Zoë Nightshade. You are the leader!"
"No I am not," the blonde-haired thief was prompt to throw this idea where it belonged, which was in a pyre-dustbin. "Oh, Olympus has ordered something saying I am in charge, and I suppose I will be as long as we're near New Byzantium and the Gods can keep their eyes upon us."
"You think Jackson is going to usurp your authority?"
"I think someone is going to ask 'what's the plan, peerless leader?' and when I reveal I haven't one, the Demigods and Demigoddesses of this group will follow Jackson, who since he's a madman, will likely have thought over some insanity to lead us to the Underworld."
"That's...that's not how Quests are supposed to work," the grey-haired girl protested weakly.
"That's not how they work normally," the Councillor of the Hermes Bungalow agreed. "But this Quest isn't normal, and someone is determined to sacrifice plenty of Demigods as long as Jackson dies."
At least the reunion of last evening had been good to make sure how important he was to Olympus and the thunderbolt-wielding God. And the answer was: more important than the average Quester, but not enough to not be sacrificed when there was a bigger fish was waiting to be caught. The children of the Big Three were more important than you, Luke Castellan, whether it was their survival or demise which was debated.
"Well, err...as long as Jackson dies..."
"Remember Odysseus? The guy who stole some sheep and insulted a Cyclops, and received ten years of trials and disasters in retribution? That was for merely injuring and mocking a son of Poseidon, and one who was part-monster. I prefer not to imagine the punishment the Stormbringer would have for someone involved in the death of one of his part-human sons."
"We will find a way. I will find a way." There were many people, even among Demigods, who didn't know what their Fatal Flaw was. Sometimes, unless you were in a do-or-die situation, there was no way to know which weakness could lead you to an early grave.
Such wasn't the case with Annabeth. Her Fatal Flaw was Hubris without contest.
"I beg you, Annabeth. Give Up. There will be other Quests, and no doubt they will be far less dangerous this one. You will have your opportunity to shine. Whatever good you think you can do, I assure you it isn't worth it."
He could already tell by her stubborn attitude and her determined eyes this advice had been uttered in pure waste. She was just like Thalia, before...
"I volunteer for this Great Quest. You need me, and since there aren't twelve Questers volunteering, you have to accept."
"You are doing this for all the wrong reasons," the Hermes Councillor sighed. "But if it's your decision, so be it. Go to your Bungalow and write your last will. Enjoy your last hours of calm and peace. I am going to find the son of Poseidon and tell him our ranks have increased by one."
Lou had only finished her third cup of coffee when Perseus Jackson entered the Hecate Barrack.
Silence immediately reigned. While it was far from rare Dionysus or another Olympian decided to collapse their wards because he or she felt angry at their mere presence, the children of Hecate were rather proud of their ward-creating skills, and no Demigod in the last half-century had been able to break through them on his or her own.
"Greetings, Children of Hecate," the crazy boy proclaimed, just as sceptres and a considerable amount of magical foci were pointed at him. "I have come to offer you my eternal friendship."
"Friendship?" Alabaster, their Barrack Councillor shouted. "You aren't our friend, get the fuck out-"
"I don't like profanities. Be quiet, naughty boy."
Alabaster Torrington was struck mute. He tried to speak, place his hands against his throat, activate a counter-spell...all in pure loss.
"You can't beat us all!" one of her younger brothers erupted, which was in hindsight the wrong thing to boast about.
"Be quiet, Harry Potter. Return transfiguring your needles, the intelligent people are talking."
The ripple of power was even bigger this time, and Lou shivered.
"Charmspeak," the young witch murmured, "he's mastered charmspeak."
This was a mistake. The next heartbeat, she had the full and undivided attention of the mad Demigod.
"Ah, so that's how it is called here."
"It is something a few children of Aphrodite and Venus have," the fifteen-years-old witched tried to sound as conversational as possible, hoping throwing the narcissist Demigods under the bulldozer of madness would save them from whatever the son of Poseidon had in store. She also used her self-control skills to not wince as her half-brother began to transfigure needless into toys with an angry expression. "I'm sure they will love to explain to you the intricacies of their powers."
In fact, she was utterly sure of the contrary, but it wasn't her problem.
Alas, the son of the Earthshaker didn't treat it as the dismissal it was.
Instead he walked towards her. Oh no...
"You are gifted in High Arcana," somehow, the insane intruder touched one of her precious Tarot cards she had imbued with spells and managed to not blow it up.
Lou thought about denying, but the green eyes, for all their craziness, were not bluffing.
"I prefer the term 'Advanced Mystiokinesis'."
"White Rabbit, Rabbit white," the younger black-haired scion of the oceans shrugged. "That makes you easily the most powerful sorceress of this realm of one-eyed monkeys. And it so happens I have need of a sorceress for an adventure."
"Out of the question," the blonde-haired daughter of Hecate hissed, unleashing her power to activate the spell of the card he held, "Burn!"
A cold wind engulfed the Barrack, and before the spell could be hurled at his face, there was an ice crystal levitating in front of her, and the card finished consuming itself inside.
That was...how by the pits of Tartarus had Jackson done that?
"Six out of ten," the infuriating boy judged. "The surprise attack wasn't bad, but you're taking way too long focusing your magic. It's something we will have to work upon."
"I told you, I won't go with you..."
"Why? You enjoy wallowing in your self-imposed mediocrity so much?"
"There isn't anything self-imposed," one of her older half-sisters screamed. "You will-"
"Summon rabbits from the hat in the corner." The witch went to take a large hat and began to –somehow – conjure rabbits from it. "Where were we?"
"We aren't mediocre," the black-eyed daughter of Hecate affirmed. "We are maintaining and reinforcing the most powerful wards of the city and the land defences! We are the main supplier of amulets and enchanted objects with no rival! We are-"
"You aren't trusted. And this is why you have chosen to side with the Lord of the Underworld in the coming war."
"How do you know that?" one of her younger siblings exclaimed.
"Well, I have my suspicions, but thank you for confirming them," Perseus Jackson answered cheekily. "Now I believe the blackmail will be all the more effective. Tarot witch here comes with me-"
"My name is Lou Ellen Blackstone, seaweed brain!"
"Seaweed brain? Seriously?" the green-eyed son of Poseidon was incredibly amused. "This insult was pitiful when the children of Athena used it before the Age of Rome, try something a bit more original and clever next time. But back to the subject at hand. I am going to blackmail you. It is easier since you have very dark secrets Olympus would be very displeased to discover after your Barrack conspired with the defunct Loki during World War II. I also found mentions of several of your most prominent Questers conspiring with Circe during the First?"
"You are unpleasantly well-informed," Lou told the male Demigod. "Anyway, even if I wanted to go with you – and I don't – the children of Hecate have been defended from participating in the usual Quests. It's easier for the Gods to control what we learn and are in contact with."
"But this is no normal Quest, this is a Great One...and the usual rules don't apply."
The worst part was that this crazy spawn of the Earthshaker looked to be completely serious.
"I am not battle-experienced," the daughter of the Goddess of Magic said, unfortunately aware her siblings were ready to sacrifice her for keeping their secrets...secret. "I didn't leave the camp since I was twelve, and never went onto a Quest. Why are you so intent on recruiting me?"
Her Tarot card fell back on the table, miraculously intact.
"You are the gift to cast High Arcana spells. You have potential. And yet New Byzantium is content to waste it like you are a hedge witch, because in their hearts, they know you can become a dangerous player on your own. Alone, you have already talent in Pyrokinesis and Umbrakinesis. Confronted to dangerous opponents, you will take the first steps on your apotheosis. You are the daughter of a Titaness. You can write your own story."
"If the monsters don't kill me and the Gods don't incinerate me until nothing but ashes are left," the pale blonde-haired witch countered.
"The path to victory is not without a few hurdles of its own," the son of Poseidon shrugged. "Anyway, this is your last chance to embrace greatness instead of mediocrity. I can teach you plenty of tricks will be of great help to your development, and I came to own a few magical books on my own after several incidents."
Damn it, damn it, damn it! How did it come to this? She had firmly intended to refuse and now...
Lou Ellen Blackstone tried to control her panic. The worst part, was that these treacherous words burned in her heart. Every children of Hecate who lived at camp knew the list of things they weren't supposed to do was twenty times bigger than the list of permissible deeds.
"I want to be paid."
"That goes without saying," the Demigod replied, seriously for once. "An arduous work deserves a just reward. And I will go so far as to deliver in your custody any magical books or container of magical knowledge which happens to be found during this Great Quest."
Damn him. She was so going to die...
"What are your orders, Jackson?"
Zoë was the loyal lieutenant of Artemis and would obey all her orders faithfully and to the letter. There had never been any question about that.
Yet for the first time, the former Hesperides thought Zeus' 'cleverness' was putting her in a very dangerous situation. It was all very good to be ordered to kill Jackson at the first sign of disloyalty. But she had expected the Demigods – and especially the Demigoddesses – chosen for this Great Quest would be loyal to Olympus.
It had only taken the time for the representative of the Ares Barrack to arrive to be disabused of this notion. Zoë Nightshade could only find solace the 'girl' was a spawn of Ares, and thus hardly a stellar example of feminine grace...
"You have a plan for this Great Quest, Huntress?" the muscular Demigoddess barked. "No? Then we wait for Castellan and Jackson to arrive. If you have something to say against that, my spear is ready to give you a lesson. The tournament in the arena barely warmed me up!"
Fortunately – and she couldn't believe she thought that – Perseus Jackson didn't take long before arriving. More surprising, he wasn't followed by the dark-haired son of Nemesis, but by a blonde wearing a long enchanted robe of black silk which was levitating numerous magical objects around her. Her face was arrogant and her black eyes gave her a dismissing glance before returning to her magical tricks.
Damn it, this traitor of son of Poseidon had to find a child of Hecate, didn't he?
"Ah, the selection of the Ares Barrack is over?"
"It is," the tall girl – she was towering over Jackson so much it was nearly funny – "I am Clarisse La Rue, daughter of Ares, Champion of Barrack Five."
The immortal Huntress hoped the near-boy descendant of the War God would break Jackson's limb when they shook hands, but no such luck.
"Your spear is damaged."
"Yes, Sherman is a sore loser," the tallest Quester around replied. "Don't worry Jackson, I'm going to Hephaestus Barrack immediately after this meeting is over. They do very good work, it will be fully repaired this evening."
"I have no doubt about it," the Demigod made this evil smile which always announced something extremely bad. "But, no offence, this is only the Shredder Spear Mark I. It's a weapon from the Ares Forges, I will give you that...but it's not extremely durable against first-tier enemies."
"You'd better not insult my father, Jackson..." Clarisse La Rue growled, her ugly light brown hair and her cruel eyes emphasizing her boar-type ancestry.
"Wouldn't dream of it," the green-eyed threat chipped while rummaging in his pockets, before throwing out a sort of bright red pen. "Try that and tell me what you think."
Zoë hadn't the time to protest that the other girl had uncapped the pen, and in a bright red flash an enormous spear flashed into her hands.
The millennia-old servant of Artemis was a weapon expert. A heartbeat was enough to know this weapon was really, really bad news. It was a bit shorter than the usual spears used by the half-blood of New Byzantium, but its long handle was richly decorated in red and gold with numerous carvings of slaughter and battles. It was entirely metal, and the edge was Celestial Bronze mixed with some alloy she didn't recognise.
How Jackson had managed to find it wasn't hard to guess.
"This is stolen Amazon property," she hissed.
"Who extorted it to Ares," the son of Poseidon smiled and chuckled like it was no big deal. "I'm sure the War God will be very happy his favourite daughter wields it during the Great Quest."
"Incredible," and for once the daughter of Ares was almost reverent as she admired her new weapon. "I can feel its power..."
"This is a limited-edition, the Carnifex Mark Five, if I remember correctly. Consider it an investment to show I believe in the survival of all the Questers which will follow me."
"You aren't the leader of this Quest, Jackson!" Zoë Nightshade felt forced to remind him. "Clarisse, give up this weapon! It is heavily cursed! It will force you to feed ever-increasing quantities of blood to it or will suffer the same effects as Ares curses!"
The grin of Ares' daughter proved this was the wrong thing to say.
"A very good gift, Jackson, thanks! I'm going to go repair Shredder just in case, but Carnifex is going to be my new favourite weapon!"
The dark brown-haired Huntress had a brief moment of despair as she saw the brute depart. Any hope the folly of Jackson would die with him was getting even more unlikely by the second.
There was no time to grab the traitor by the throat, unfortunately, as a new Demigod, this one who had not unfamiliar to her, went to salute Jackson the Roman way.
"Dakota McDonald, son of Bacchus, I want to volunteer for this Great Quest."
"Are you sure, son of one of my favourite Gods?" it was like a switch had been made and the son of Poseidon was once more 'reasonable'. "It won't be a question of pushing wine barrels on this adventure."
"You're drinking wine so much?" the blue eyes of the Demigod widened.
"I don't drink wine, period," the threat joyously corrected. "I drown people in it, but never mind. This is going to be dangerous, are you sure you want to volunteer? I don't want to anger Bacchus, and I'm not able to promise you survival is assured given where we are going to travel."
"I want to prove myself," the black-haired son of the God of Wine showed a courageous face, "and I have screwed up on so many Quests this one is really my best chance to be accepted into the ranks of the Questers."
"Favourite weapon?"
"The Gladius," the Roman-born Demigod admitted. "And I have control over vines."
"Excellent! Dakota McDonald, welcome to the Suicide Squad!"
Zoë Nightshade desired nothing less than removing half of the teeth of Jackson...unfortunately, Poseidon was no doubt watching. But she would have her chance soon...
The witch and the son of Bacchus departed to order some supplies and maps, and she was alone with the treacherous Demigod...not for long, though.
The son of Nemesis was back, and he was accompanied by another Demigod who was eminently recognisable.
"Out of the question!" She barked. "Jackson, you will not add this...this criminal to our ranks!"
"When you will begin to contribute to the recruitment process, maybe I will begin to consider your words, grand archer of Artemis. Now please be quiet, I have a new recruit before me. Name?"
"Scipio Janus," the grey hair were not indicative of his age, it was Janus' legacy proof. Seventeen-years-old, wearing a non-official Legionnaire armour, the male Demigod was exactly like the daughter of Ares: tall, muscular, and seemingly shrouded in an aura of bloodlust.
"The son of Michael Varus, who lost all his Cohort in Alaska and had to be saved by another Legion?"
"My family's shame has largely reached past Byzantium's frontier, it seems," the near-adult half-blood boy bared his teeth. "I'm in need of gold to pay for the upkeep of my family's villa, and yours is rumoured to offer some substantial rewards."
"Weapons?"
Scipio Varus drew the massive sword which had been kept unsheathed on his back.
"Are you sure you're not compensating for something, big boy?"
"Careful Jackson," the legacy of Janus sneered. "Last time I checked, many Gods were offering very nice bounties for your head. My Zweihänder and myself could easily decide to handle a short-term payment instead of a long-term one."
"Assuming your mouth equals your skill, I'm afraid my father would be somewhat peeved against you...there's a high likelihood you wouldn't even have the time to collect my head. Just saying it for your basic knowledge, clearly."
"Clearly," Scipio Varus put back his enormous sword on his back. "Two million Drachmas?"
"Two million Drachmas," the other Demigod confirmed. "My head has to remain attached to my shoulders for you to collect, of course."
"Former Centurion Scipio Varus at your service," the grey-haired killer smiled. "Who do you want me to kill, boss?"
Thank Artemis' wisdom Luke Castellan and Annabeth Chase arrived in the seconds after, because Zoë Nightshade was beginning to wonder if all the Demigods of the Great Quest were traitors just waiting for Jackson to find them...
"Let me guess: you are here to offer your eternal friendship after our mother kicked your ass."
"This was my intention..." Perseus wanted to monologue quite a bit, but the air was intoxicated with perfume and everything more or less associated with cosmetics. As a result, what should have felt pleasant in moderate quantities was absolutely unbearable for his nose and his senses. "But I have changed my mind, Sharon."
Immediately, the amused expression was replaced by an angry look.
"It's Silena, not Sharon. Do you want me to call my mother to kick your ass again?"
"There's a little problem with that, Sidney," the beat-down must have been for show, but he, as an ex-Tyrant, had his pride. And being threatened by a girl who had likely not used a weapon in anger for most of her short life was something he wasn't going to tolerate. "This was not your mother who defeated me. This was the Roman version of her, and I have no doubt that Victrix isn't proud of the sheer absence of talent you're enjoying on a daily basis."
"Turn your feet around and drown yourself into the ocean, Jackson," well, well, well, the children of Hecate's information had been right. Of course, the effect was pathetic to what a veteran Named could do, but Silena Beauregard was getting points for the attempt.
"Sorry, I don't fancy going swimming today," the male Demigod replied courteously, and the eyes of the daughter of Aphrodite widened in shock. "Let me show you how you do it correctly, pretty girl. Kneel."
One second, and the blue-eyed Demigoddess was kissing the ground in front of him.
"How? How? Charmspeak is the birthright of our Barrack! You can't-"
"I can. I master. And I order." The green-eyed son of Poseidon lowered himself to where she had been humbled. "You're right this is one of the talents of Aphrodite. But like magic can be learned by children of the Gods who aren't sons and daughters of Hecate, this vocal weapon can be learned by someone who hasn't your lineage. Rise."
He gave her ten seconds to calm herself, ignoring all the while the crowd of aspiring top models who were not missing a minute of the spectacle.
"You want to take a Charmspeak-gifted member of Aphrodite with you? Fine, I volunteer. Spare my siblings, they aren't ready to depart for something like this."
Perseus allowed himself a chuckle.
"Maybe I was wrong, after all. One daughter of Aphrodite has indeed the steel spine of her Roman mother." For a second the ex-Tyrant hesitated, but the choice was easily made. The girl's survival would still be a matter of luck, and he hated relying upon this capricious power. And Silena Beauregard was promising. He had felt the power behind her words, even if she was a novice in it. "I will not take you with me. You have some potential, it would be shameful to risk it too early. But don't think you won't have an easy time of it at New Byzantium. You're going to work on your strengths. No more wasting half of your day on make-up. You will push your Charmspeak until the Gods themselves feel the compulsion! You will train your body so that the moment an enemy falters seeing your strength, your sword is stabbing his neck! You are a Demigoddess of Love, prove it!"
This was time for a good old-fashioned monologue, the Gods knew these cowardly pack of peacocks deserved it!
"I accused the children of Hecate from wallowing in their mediocrity one hour ago," the powerful black-haired Demigod began, "but they at least have attenuating circumstances and their decadence has not reached a third of yours! You call yourselves Demigods and Demigoddesses? You are merely impostors inspecting your nails and justifying the mirror production of New Byzantium! It is not even worth asking if you have weapon skills, because watching your hands, it's evident you don't have any!"
He didn't even have to find the words, because frankly, this was the truth from the first sentence to the last. The equivalent of a small army of Named, and they were utterly squandering their potential.
"In case you have missed the news, war is coming! Congratulations sons and daughters of Aphrodite: right now, I can say without much risk of being wrong that your life-expectancy will last exactly the time the other Barracks will survive, because you don't have a single chance of lasting a minute on a true battlefield. But by all means, prove me wrong. Prove me you aren't the waste of time, food, and cosmetics I'm taking you for."
A score of his audience was already running to call Chiron, no doubt to complain about the insults and the truths he had revealed. Perseus carved their appearances in his mind. Those ones were failures and couldn't be trusted for anything.
"Now except for Silena Beauregard, everyone who knows how to Charmspeak, one step forwards."
Of a crowd of fifty-plus, only five did so, two boys and three girls. The former were far too young, of the latter one was too old and the second must have been dieting; she was more than useless.
That left the third one. She had the body and the facial type of the Asian women, rather pretty – though with Aphrodite, that was kind of a given – long black hair and brown eyes. Obviously with her pink make-up and her jewellery, she was not a warrior. Her pink nails and a skin which must have been its weight in gold given how many soaps and creams kept it in prime condition were evidence enough of that.
"Name?"
"I am Drew Tanaka, and I am not going to participate in your stupid Quest!"
"Thank you for volunteering, Debbie!"
"I am not Debbie!" the daughter of Aphrodite roared, with less strength in her voice compared to her older half-sister, but a still respectable amount of power.
"Thank you for volunteering, Dorothy!"
"Silena...Silena stop him! I don't want to do his Quest! I don't want to die!"
In a splendid display of Barrack unity, the elder girl went to place herself between him and her. Something which had to cost her, because judging the satisfied expressions of some of the Demigods, Drew was not someone who had a lot of friends among her half-brothers and half-sisters.
"Perseus, my sister...is not wrong. She isn't ready for this."
"Your whole Barrack isn't ready for this." Perseus chided her. "But if you had begun to train seriously since the Master Bolt was stolen, maybe, just maybe, you would have a modicum of experience and skill by now. That you haven't done the shadow of a preparation is something I'm still puzzled about. How long did you think the other Demigods were going to accept you failing to show up on the conscription lists?"
Silena Beauregard didn't try to glare back. The truth hurt when it was spoken every time.
"Your half-sister is coming with me. See it as an educational experience...and I will purchase her equipment myself." One had to be generous even in victory, especially as an aura of pink appeared above the girl he had chosen. "Use the time left until the Solstice to wonder something, children of Aphrodite! Why do you think the Gods are so content to let you stay in front of your mirrors and your perfumed baths?"
Each hour Ethan thought he had seen the limits of the madness of Perseus Jackson, and each time the mad boy thrived to prove him wrong.
Recruiting any daughter of Aphrodite – or a son for that matter - was just something crazy. Of the several thousands of Questers serving the Gods all over the world, the children of the Love Goddess were those who barely met the requirements of being Questers in the first place. Ethan was going to admit he didn't train as hard as a child of Ares, but there was a major difference between doing what he did and the absolute lack of dedication shown by Bungalow Ten.
Recruiting this daughter of Aphrodite was going to be nothing but trouble. The son of Nemesis had hoped they would get someone who could serve as cheerleader, but they had gained Drew Tanaka, a narcissist bitch whose main claim to fame was to break the hearts of the boy she dated. Weapon skill? Zero. Martial abilities? Zero. Endurance before she broke a nail and cried for the charming knight to come and save her? Zero.
And she was part of their team. The more they recruited, the more Ethan understood the mad boy wanted the name of Suicide Squad to fit. Most of the Demigods and Demigoddesses that had 'volunteered' hated each other's guts. Nightshade and Chase loathed Jackson, and this was just one of these 'cordial' relationships.
"We are missing only two Demigods, and we will have our twelve members," he said formally as Jackson and he were travelling back to Barrack Three. "Any ideas, oh not-leader?"
"Some, my treacherous lieutenant," Jackson replied. "A few of them are more important than the others. I dearly want a healer, for example."
Ethan grimaced. This was something that made a lot of sense. Unfortunately...
"The sons of Asclepius have refused to come out or open their door today," maybe to avoid 'volunteering' like the Barracks of Hecate and Aphrodite. "And the sons of Apollo shot arrows in your direction the moment you are coming too close from their redoubt."
"Which was very rude of them," the green-eyed Demigod complained. "I had my banner of peace and everything, can't a man proclaim his eternal friendship to a sunny Barrack?"
There was only one word for that kind of crazy reasoning.
"No."
"I am a misunderstood soul." The son of Poseidon sighed. "Why are the campers dragging people in chains towards us?"
"If I have to make a guess, oh my not-leader, I would say they've learned how you recruited Drew Tanaka, and decided to volunteer their own choices before you chose for them."
"This is extremely frustrating," the new terror of New Byzantium pouted. "I had speeches and everything prepared. Barracks of Hephaestus and Demeter?"
"I think so," Ethan answered, wondering what those poor 'volunteers' had done to be sacrificed by their own brothers and sisters. He had not long to wait.
"Jackson!" Charles Beckendorf, son of Hephaestus, called out. "We have found you volunteers."
"They definitely look like volunteers indeed," the boy and the girl were manacled and in chains, and they were gagged. Compared to them, Drew Tanaka had 'volunteered' with good grace and dignity. "Mind telling me their crimes? We of the Suicide Squad have exacting standards to uphold."
The son of Nemesis didn't know what was worse, that the mad boy managed to say it with a grin, or that some Demigods laughed nervously by fear of offending him.
"This is Jake Mason, my half-brother," the senior Hephaestus son present said as he pushed forwards a black-haired boy with the usual scars and burns of someone spending his time in the forge from dawn to dusk. "His automatons have an alarming frequency to turn murderous these days, and they caused a lot of damage with their latest rebellion...damage he now has to reimburse if he wants to step into our Barrack again, one way or another."
"This is Miranda Gardiner, my half-sister," the son of Demeter next to him explained as the brown-haired girl threw him a hateful glare. "Her...unnatural experiments with carnivorous flowers have also resulted in devastation and tragedy over the last month. This Great Quest will repay her debts, whether...if she succeeds."
"Outstanding! Thank your Barracks for their generous contribution to the ever-legendary Suicide Squad. Now you can remove their gags, they have volunteered, no need to stop them from shouting their joy..."
What came after was a torrent of insults, but the contrary would have been surprising...
8 May 2006, New Byzantium, New York coastline, United States of America (de jure)
They met one hour before dawn far from the Barracks. They were twelve, as the conditions of the Great Quest stipulated.
Despite the legendary optimism of Hermes line fuelling him, Luke was certain it was going to be an epic disaster.
They gave out the required document to the Legionnaires' night-time sentinels so that the Western Gate was opened to them, and they departed into the night, without one manifestation of support or respect. Some part of him wanted to believe the early hour was responsible for that, but seriously, there wouldn't be much joy and applause even if it had been done at noon.
Many Greek and Roman Demigods wanted this war against Hades. After decades of the same peacetime Quests repeated over and over, any change from normalcy was seen as good. They were idiots, but until they really saw the kind of monsters which were waiting for them, they wouldn't change their opinions.
No, the Great Quest had little support, and what strength had been mustered was completely inadequate. They shouldn't have gathered twelve 'warriors' but twelve hundred, minimum. A whole Roman Legion, six thousand and six hundred frontline fighters would have been even better.
But they were twelve, and not exactly the twelve most loyal or united Demigods to have existed.
Perseus Jackson was taking the lead, since no one save him knew where they were going. Four gargoyles carried massive bags, which for the most part were either food or stolen items which would be thrown against their opponents. At least for all his madness, the son of Poseidon really looked like a proper Quester now: he wore elaborate Atlantean-style green armour whose protections had the appearance of scales, and two short swords were in the scabbards tied to his belt.
Zoë Nightshade was following him like his shadow. The immortal Huntress didn't even pretend to be here for something else than executing the son of Poseidon. Her silver armour was nearly entirely hidden under the long beige cloak and hunting clothes of Artemis' servants, but the quiver and the silver bow were neatly in evidence.
He was third in the line of advance, and his thoughts never could stop wondering what he was really doing in this band of cutthroats and self-destructive Demigods. The Hesperides should have been the exploit of his Quester career, except suddenly it wasn't.
The daughter of Hecate was coming after him. Unlike most of them, Lou Ellen Blackstone seemed to delight in walking through the woods while darkness still ruled the world. Her armour was also lighter than nearly everyone else, for the midnight black protection appeared so body-tight that his eyes insisted armour like that wouldn't stop a single arrow.
Annabeth was in fifth position, trying hard not to yawn when someone was looking at her. Of all people he wanted not to risk the life of, hers was first with no equal, but she hadn't given him the choice. He could only pray this wasn't going to end in tragedy. Thalia would never forgive him...
Scipio Varus was their sixth member, and Luke would not shed a tear if this assassin disappeared. The ex-Legionnaire was a merciless killer which should have been executed for his crimes, he was one of those infamous duellist-killers Rome produced from time to time. Last of the Varus line which had risen countless times high to the Consulate of Constantinople and fallen hard as many times, nobody wanted him to stand in his back, but the ridiculous conditions and low survivability of the Great Quest meant all volunteers were accepted.
Miranda Gardiner was singing a mournful song as they progressed westwards. Donning brown armour the very shade of her hair, the daughter of Demeter was depressed and visibly tormented.
Jake Mason was showing a more positive expression, though the enormous machine gun his siblings had allowed him to take with him had undoubtedly something to do with that. It said quite something that despite being thirteen, the son of Hephaestus was able to carry this huge weapon seemingly without effort, while he would have struggled with it despite being six years older.
Dakota McDonald was continuing to drink his Kool-Aid, as usual. Despite knowing that the flask was connected to his main 'reserve' of the stuff in Barrack Twelve, Luke wondered how long the liquid supplies were going to last given how stressed the son of Bacchus was.
Drew Tanaka was tenth as they marched out relentlessly without pause and the solar chariot of Lord Apollo was sending its first ray of lights in their backs. Her presence was an even bigger mystery than some, for it was obvious that unlike everyone of their group, the daughter of Aphrodite hadn't the slightest military training to rely upon for survival. The white armour and the white bow Jackson had given her looked like reliable protection and weapon respectively, but they couldn't fight in her stead. And no, Charmspeak wasn't the correct explanation. If the rumours were true, Jackson could do it too, and one didn't two identical specialties in a group so small.
Ethan Nakamura was following her, dark shadow in a dark world. The son of Nemesis seemed to be even grimmer now that he was experiencing the madness of Perseus Jackson.
And last but certainly not least, Clarisse was the twelfth, her new red spear ready to be seized on her back, and with shield and armour alone she looked like a massively armoured boar, something reinforced by her helmet.
A few minutes later, they began to decrease their pace, and then Jackson brutally changed course for the north until they reached a clearance.
"We are going to rest ten minutes," Luke announced. Drew Tanaka and Lou Ellen Blackstone certainly seemed to need it, and there were others who would benefit from this short moment, Dakota to give a single name. "Jackson! I believe the time for your mysteries and secrecy is over."
"I completely agree," the son of Poseidon had the gall to smile at them like he had done a good joke. "Naturally the risk of spies inside our group is still astronomically high, but their ability to report to their patrons will be...difficult, shall we say?"
"Enough," Zoë Nightshade was not and likely would never be the friend of Perseus Jackson, given how little she enjoyed his 'humour'. "Tell us your plan."
"Of course, of course..." Luke wanted to slap the Huntress, for after this 'order', it was guaranteed the crazy Demigod was going to delay things for as long as he could. He even went so far as to throw a bronze medallion towards several big stones of the clearing. "I think the problem we are facing in this Quest is evident. We must go to the Underworld. The Lord of Below does not want such an attempt to succeed, and guards all entrances known to him, the stable and the unstable ones alike. Therefore we must find a solution which guarantees my uncle won't see us coming until it is far too late. An entrance neither the God of Strength for his famous trials, Orpheus, or the myriad of heroes who descended under the earth used for their own purposes."
"And you believe you have found such an entrance?" Annabeth's scepticism couldn't have been more evident if she had said it outright.
"I do not believe," the grin was filled with madness, "I have found one. And the best part? We will be able to use it to escape if we succeed in our mission, for it is a path not even the Legions of Hell are able to navigate at will."
The medallion thrown away began to shine in a golden light, and suddenly part of the clearing began to collapse like a secret cavern had been opened not far below where they waited.
It was maybe not far from the truth, for as the dust rapidly fell down and they took slow steps towards whatever disaster Jackson had caused, Luke and all the other Questers watched as unadorned white walls of stone were revealed. The passage appeared to not go far, for there was a Delta symbol on another wall barring the way.
Oh no. Chiron had spoken about it one day. It had been one of his most interesting lessons, how to avoid entering the Zones Mortalis, and if this Delta letter was here, that meant-
"Suicide Squad, admire our secret invasion path to the Underworld," Perseus Jackson gloated. "Before you one of the entrances of the mythical Labyrinth stand!"
The first reaction didn't make itself wait.
"You're completely insane!"
Author's note: Next chapter, the invasion of the Labyrinth.
Many traps and lethal dangers await our valiant heroes...that is, if they don't kill each other first.
The Great Quest has begun, all brakes have been sabotaged.
The madness can and will truly escalate. Perseus Jackson will make sure of it.
The other links were the story is available:
www .alternate history forum/ threads/ an-impractical-guide-to-godhood-a-percy-jackson-x-a-practical-guide-to-godhood-crossover .513032/
archiveofourown works /32339365 /chapters /80167612
www . pa treon Antony444