Note: Okay, I am TERRIBLY sorry for how long it took for me to write this chapter. I give you my word, I will make sure Chapter 5 doesn't take as long, but writing stories this long and extensive, it just takes so much out of me.

It was a rather quiet day at a New Jersey bus station. Among the dozen or so people waiting were three adolescent boys- a blonde Caucasian, a black-haired Middle-Easterner, and a brown-haired, emerald-eyed Asian. They had been waiting for hours, but their bus hadn't arrived yet. Impatience and frustration was beginning to simmer in the midday sun like a burger on a grill.

"I swear to Tartarus, Ag, if you don't stop poking me…" the Caucasian growled as he was being poked again and again by the Middle Eastern boy sitting next to him.

"Use cover names on the mission, remember?" The Asian said as he was looking at a map of the area.

"It's no wonder you got chosen to pose as a son of Ares, Yus," the Middle-Easterner stated as he continued his childish annoying of his companion, "given you already possess the temper of one."

"I'll pretend like I didn't hear that," was all the other could say.

"In any case," the Asian interjected, hoping to get them all back on track, "we need to focus here, or our cover will be blown and our mission will fail before it starts. The Olympians will have eyes and ears everywhere. We need to be careful of what we say and what we do."

"You know me, pal," the Middle Eastern boy assured him. "I'm nothing if not cautious."

"Cautious as a rat in a cheese factory," the Caucasian remarked. "Aren't you the one who mistook a little girl's balloon for a flail and shoved it out of her hand, making her cry?"

"By the rivers, the scolding you got from her mother!" the Asian added with a chuckle. "So hilarious…"

The Arab flushed in embarrassment and gave a big huff. "Hey, maybe I acted a little…well, paranoid, but don't you think it's time we put that behind us?"

"We did," the Caucasian pointed out, "but just because we put it behind us doesn't mean I can't laugh about it anymore."

The Arab leaned forward in his seat, covering his face with his hands in shame. "Why me?"

"Okay, moving on," the Asian said. "Let's go over our cover stories one more time, just so we know what to say when we get to camp. My name is Tobias Yang. I'm a son of Nike." He then pointed at the Caucasian. "Your name is Bruce Ramage, a son of Ares. And your name-" he pointed at the Middle Easterner "-is Arnold Picasso, a son of Athena. We're all demigods who have been involved in a monster-related incident and have been told to travel to Camp Half-Blood for our own safety. I don't think I need to remind you that You-Know-Who gave us specific instructions to tell only those we think are trustworthy about our current mission. I've also been informed that our 'friends' will be arriving at Camp Jupiter momentarily."

"Great!" The boy with the cover name "Arnold Picasso" said.

"Perfect," the boy going by "Bruce Ramage" agreed.

Just then the bus for Long Island pulled up in front of them.

"Alright, you two ready?" The boy known as "Tobias Yang" asked his two companions, who both nodded. "Then let's do this…for Lord Perseus."

With that, they boarded the bus and began their journey to Camp Half-Blood.

(Flashback-Athena's Palace, Mount Olympus, 24 hours earlier)

Athena was asleep, but it was clear that she was experiencing something troubling in her dream. When she woke, she said, "I have to tell the others."

The next day, after another regular council meeting, she made the decision to approach Poseidon and Hestia after the others had left.

"Poseidon, Hestia, may I speak to you a moment?" she asked.

"Of course, dear niece," Hestia replied.

"I had a dream last night. About Percy."

Poseidon instantly snapped to attention. "You did?! What was it about? Is he alright?"

"Well, considering how he effectively rules Tartarus at this point, I don't see how he can't be. This dream actually revealed to me what he's doing, and I felt it necessary to tell you, as you are among the gods Perseus trusts the most."

"Okay," Poseidon said, as he didn't know how to feel about this rather unusual explanation. "What was the dream about, exactly?"

"It's a rather long story. Come back to my palace so I can tell you."

When the three gods got to Athena's palace and Hestia decided to make them all some hot chocolate to drink, Athena began explaining her dream.

(Athena's dream)

Athena was in a rather large room: the throne room of Tartarus. Suits of armor lined the walls, each brandishing a sword, axe, or mace. Torches bathed the room in a soft, aethereal blue light. How this was possible, she had no idea. Banners hung from the walls, proudly displaying a jet-black pegasus. The emblem of Percy Jackson, Emperor of Tartarus.

Speaking of Percy, at the far end of the room, Athena could see the man himself, seated upon a throne composed of a dark red metal and covered in sea-green leather. Atop the throne's backrest were two large sapphire gems each the size of a basketball. It was one of the most magnificent designs for a throne Athena had ever seen. It showed her that while Percy was powerful, he himself didn't care much for glamor or dramatics like her father, Zeus. He instead preferred simple designs that nonetheless possessed the ability to inspire awe in those viewing them. Percy himself was dressed in a rather formidable-looking suit of armor, made from a strange, shining yellow-green metal. His black hair was almost shoulder-length, and he looked to have the makings of a moustache and beard on his face. His face, meanwhile, looked very strong, almost kingly, and just as handsome as she remembered, if not more so. Athena blushed. If not for the fact that he was Poseidon's son, she would've taken him as a lover long ago.

Kneeling in front of the throne were six individuals; they were humanoid, but with extremely pale, almost chalk-white skin and light-bluish hair. Their ears were pointed, and their eyes were colorless, surrounded by thick black rings. They were all dressed in simple tunics.

Athena knew what they were. She recognized them from a role-playing game some of her kids started playing a while back.

Changelings.

"What is your bidding, my lord?" One of the kneeling creatures asked Percy.

"What do you command?" Another asked.

After shifting a little in his throne, Percy cleared his throat and began to speak.

"I've gathered you here for a very important new mission. This will be your chance to both prove your finesse and make sure your name transcends your mortal flesh and becomes legend; your chance to play a major, starring role in the dawning of a grand and majestic new era. But I digress. Your mission is simple: if I know my Uncle Zeus, he's not going to let his power and status as King of the Gods go easily. He'll fight for it, even resorting to extreme measures to keep it. There's no limit to how low he'll sink. Desperation will cost anyone their sanity. So, your objective is to head to the surface disguised as common half-bloods, assimilate into Camps Half-Blood and Jupiter and find out just what our beloved lord of the sky intends to do. We can leave nothing to chance. What you discover could alter the course of history. I will be giving you special mirror-necklaces to keep in touch with me. Make sure to reveal your identities and mission to only those whom you unconditionally trust. No one else. Remember, do your job well, and you shall be rewarded."

"It will be done, Emperor Perseus," a changeling said.

"We will not fail you," added another.

"I hope so. It is absolutely paramount that your cover is not blown. If Zeus finds out there are spies in the camps, he might think all half-bloods are plotting against him, and I will not- repeat, NOT- allow innocents to be put in jeopardy. Gather as much intel as you can, and report back to me. I'll handle the rest. Understood?"

"Yes, my lord."

"Excellent. I look forward to hearing from you. Good luck and stay hidden for as long as you can."

"We will, my lord."

"You are dismissed."

The six changelings saluted one last time and left the throne room. Percy sat back in his throne, gave a sigh and said, "I know you're there, Athena. I can't see you, but your godly presence is like a lantern in a fog. Be sure to not tell the whole Council about this, just a few of the gods who are closest to me. Poseidon, Hestia, Apollo, Artemis…doesn't matter which. As long as they swear to keep this whole thing secret. I don't want Zeus catching wind of what's going on."

Athena nodded. "I promise, Perseus, I'll do as you ask. Father won't find out."

She didn't know if Percy could hear her or not, but he smiled.

(End of Athena's dream)

"So let me see if I've got this right: you had a dream where you saw and heard Percy send six changelings to infiltrate both camps and find out what my brother is planning to do to stop my son from taking his throne?"

"That's exactly what it was," Athena confirmed, giving a slight nod.

"You were right to tell us of this, Athena," Hestia told her niece. "Perhaps we can help Percy in some way. But most importantly, we must keep this from the rest of the Council."

"I hope they arrive soon. Every hour spent with Zeus in charge makes me want to cause an earthquake strong enough to shatter a continent," Poseidon uttered in a low voice, making a growl at the end.

Hestia gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "I'm sure that when they are ready, they'll make their move. I'll make regular visits to Camp Half-Blood to see if anyone comes along. Percy did say they'd be disguised as ordinary half-bloods. Chances are, any new arrivals will likely be Percy's agents."

Poseidon smiled. "Always so comforting, aren't you, sister?"

As the two elder Olympians flashed back to their palaces, Athena was left wondering one thing: does Percy know what he's doing?

(2 miles from Camp Half-Blood)

"Hate to dampen our spirits with some cruel logic," the changeling known as Bruce Ramage spoke up, "but how exactly are we going to get through the camp barrier when we get there? We're monsters, right? Monsters aren't allowed into camp unless they're summoned."

"The boss already has that covered, Bruce," the one going by the name Tobias Yang replied. "See, he had some Egyptian friends of his whip up a batch of this potion using an ancient recipe." Pulling out a canteen from his satchel, he continued, "This'll mask our monster life force from any Olympian while also tricking the barrier into thinking we're ordinary demigods, allowing us entry."

"He really thought of everything, didn't he?" the one referred to as Arnold Picasso remarked.

"He's had over five hundred years in Tartarus, Arnold," Tobias stated. "Believe it or not, that's more than enough time for our master to plan his revenge down to the very last microscopic detail."

"You can say that again," Bruce said with a grin.

"Here you go, my friend," Tobias said, offering the canteen to Bruce. "Bottoms up."

Bruce took the canteen and raised it high, uttering, "here's to Lord Perseus rewarding us once we get through this mission alive." Then he drank.

He then passed it to Arnold, who drank as well, and then back to Tobias, who followed suit.

"So," Bruce said as he wiped his mouth clean of some stray drops of the potion. "How long until we get to You-Know-Where?"

"Tough to say," Arnold admitted, shrugging. "the humans can't see it at all, so they'll drop us off at the closest known location, and we'll have to walk from there."

"Great," Bruce moaned, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Can things get any more exciting?"

"Ease back on the sarcasm, Bruce," Tobias told him. "It doesn't become you."

"Beg pardon, but I'll use sarcasm whenever the hell I please."

"It's just a modicum of friendly advice," Tobias said, raising his hands in surrender. "No reason to get upset at me."

"You're always upset with me. I have no idea why."

"Since when have I-?"

"Guys," Arnold interjected. "We're slowing down. I bet it's almost time for us to disembark.

It turned out that he was correct. Within minutes of that statement, the bus slowed and came to a complete stop at a bus stop that looked like it hadn't been used in years. An old bench with paint flecking off and a rusted sign were all it had.

The three disguised changelings gathered their things and got off the bus, quickly but carefully. As the bus pulled away, Arnold said, "what now?"

"Just an hour or so of walking, and we'll be there, Arnold," Tobias informed them.

Bruce sighed. "Need to make a mental note first: next time I go to the surface, I need to pack extra energy bars and some bottled water."

"Aren't you a paragon of wisdom?" Arnold put in.

"Less talking, more walking, gentlemen," Tobias said to both of them in a strict voice. "The sooner we get to camp, the better."

(Camp Half-Blood, 1 hour later)

Chiron sat at his desk, a forlorn and weary expression on his face. It was clear he was sad, and he had been for a long time, ever since his favorite demigod student Percy Jackson had been sent to Tartarus. Chiron knew Percy could handle himself down there, but that fact did little to ease the pain of knowing the poor boy was in the worst, most frightening place known to mortal or Olympian. At this point, Chiron knew all about Zeus's actions in killing most of Percy's mortal loved ones and having him banished for something he only did because of Zeus himself, and to say he was aghast and appalled would be a profound understatement. He found it hard to believe the King of the Gods capable of such atrocities, no matter the scope of his paranoid or egotism. He feared it was only a matter of time before his half-brother sent another innocent half-blood to that accursed pit.

The old centaur's thoughts were interrupted by a young camper named Matt Thakes, a son of Nike, rushing in and announcing, "Chiron! New half-bloods have just arrived outside the barrier!"

This immediately got Chiron's attention, as he looked up. "Has Peleus attacked them?"

"No, not yet. He is getting rather antsy, though. Must not like the smell of 'em."

Chiron immediately got up from his chair and trotted out the door. "Then let us welcome the newest additions to our camp with open arms."

When the centaur caught sight of the ones he assumed to be half-bloods, he was surprised that there wasn't any satyrs escorting them.

"Greetings, half-bloods," he said as he approached the trio, "I am Chiron, activities director here at Camp Half-Blood."

"So you're Chiron, eh?" Bruce remarked. "You don't look like a bigshot. Not at all. I could take you down no problem."

Tobias smacked the other phony half-blood upside the head. "Forgive my friend's blatant disrespect, Master Chiron. He's quite the bigmouth."

"Is that so?" Chiron asked, before chuckling. "Well, that is nothing new here. I've dealt with plenty of boastful younglings in my time. Plenty, indeed…now, might I know who I am addressing?"

"Of course," Arnold said. "I'm Arnold Picasso. Son of Athena."

"Tobias Yang," said Tobias. "Son of Nike."

"Bruce Ramage. Son of Ares."

"Oh," Chiron said, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "You already know exactly who your godly parents are? Curious."

"Our mortal parents told us all about the Olympians before they…left us," stated Arnold, playing the mourning teenager act to pure perfection.

"Left you?" Chiron responded. "You mean they…"

"I'm afraid so, Chiron," Tobias answered, a sad-looking expression on his face. "Monster attack. Not fun."

"We were told to go here so we would be safe," Bruce added.

"Well, your mortal parents were wise in that regard, youngsters," the old centaur informed them. "Come along, and we shall introduce you to your half-siblings and give you a chance to settle in."

As the three deep cover agents walked through camp, following Chiron, Bruce whispered to Arnold, "well, that was easy."

"Don't count your chickens before they're hatched, Bruce," Arnold whispered back. "We still need to start making connections and gather intel for Lord Perseus."

"Why don't we start with Horse-Head here?" Bruce asked, raising a thumb in Chiron's direction. "He was our master's teacher and father figure for years. If anyone is trustworthy enough to know why we're here, it's him."

"We'll wait until we know enough of what's going on," Tobias stated, putting an end to the discussion. "Then we'll reveal ourselves to him. If we're going to hit a home run, as the saying goes, we'll need to make sure all our bases are covered before the inning's over."

"Never thought you'd be much into baseball, bro," Bruce quipped. "Here's hoping you don't strike out."

"I'll give you an extra foul when you're up to bat," Tobias stated, a smirk covering most of his face.

"As long as you're not the one pitching," Arnold added. "That would be a straight-up disaster."

The three of them continued the tour of the camp in silence. Now that they were on the inside, they had to play their cards just right, or the whole plan could crumble in minutes.

(Tartarus)

"My lord!" A monster messenger rushed into the throne room. "We have just received word that your changeling operatives have arrived at their respective demigod camps!"

Percy lounged on his throne, grinning like a birthday boy. "Ahhh, this day just gets better and better…"