West. That was all Percy knew, but that was where he was going to go, no matter what. Luke and Alistair, along with their armies were, west. So, he would go that way and when he gets to the ends of the earth, he would kill them both slowly and painfully.

Zoë, Grover and Bianca were waiting for Percy and Thalia just outside of the Junkyard of the Gods. They each looked exhausted, and instantly stood up when Percy appeared with the unconscious daughter of Zeus slung over his shoulder, some blood leaking down the back of her head due to the head injury she gained from Luke.

"What happened?" Zoë instantly asked as Percy lay Thalia down before them, and turned around, placing a hand on his sword as he scanned their surroundings.

Nothing. Just an empty Arizona desert (well, ignoring the massive junkyard they had just been forced to walk through) and a dark, clear night.

"Luke showed up, and knocked her out from behind. We fought, and he ran." Percy answered quickly, not breaking his focus from their environment. Something had to be nearby. Alistair would not just simply "back off", as one would say. The Torturer of Hell was not that smart, and only agreed with brutal attacking. It was just his style of doing things.

"The idiot..." Zoë growled, checking the small cut on the back of Thalia's head.

"How come you didn't stop him from knocking her out?" Bianca asked, curious. She had seen him fight like a wild animal – he would not have allowed something so stupid to happen unless intended.

"Thalia punched me with her powers, sending me down." Percy admitted, taking the hit to his pride.

"Oh..." Grover mouthed an 'O' shape with his mouth and drew it out for a long period of time. It really was annoying to Percy, reminding him of his failure. His stupidity and carelessness had caused Thalia to get injured.

Zoë let out a sigh of relief. "She'll be fine." She told them, and a small weight was lifted off of Percy's shoulders.

"And we're pretty much alone out here. It might be safe to stay for now if it's the call you want to make." Percy suggested, and they all looked down at the unconscious Thalia.

"We'll rest up for a bit. But we will need to get moving soon, as we won't have much longer." Zoë declared to the rest of the group, and they all nodded in agreement. They were not sure about how much time they had left before the sun would start to rise, so Zoë suggested they each take turns keeping watch.

"I'll take first watch." Percy said almost instantly.

After seeing Percy's eyes, the Lieutenant of the Hunt knew that he was sleep deprived. He looked ready to collapse and die. She would take the first watch.

"No," Zoë argued, locking eyes with the Grandson of Poseidon. "You look exhausted; I'll take the first watch."

Percy huffed in annoyance, but sat down, none the less. The air was bitterly cold, and they would need a way to make a small fire if they didn't wish to freeze to death out there. Percy took off his fur coat and laid it over the unconscious Thalia, knowing that it would keep her slightly warmer than before.

They each looked around, trying to look for wood – anything that could burn. Then, it turned apparent that they might have to return to the Junkyard of the Gods to look for something to keep them warm. Zoë and Percy said that they would go and look and told Bianca and Grover to watch over Thalia. If anything was to happen – call for them as loud as that could be.

And so, they set off back into the junkyard.

They wondered through the yard, far in where the air was still, and everything was deathly silent. Percy was looking at what seemed to be a portable stove with no input and output options – meaning that it was possibly enchanted to never run out of fuel. Percy bent down and picked it up and turned around to show it to Zoë.

"Does it work?" She asked, arching an eyebrow at Percy.

Shrugging, he placed it back onto the ground and pressed a button on the side, and turned the thermostat up. The stove lit up and began to slowly warm up, producing a low ticking noise as it slowly rose in temperature.

"It looks like it does." Percy commented, before switching it back off and allowing it to cool down.

"There is a reason all of this stuff it thrown out, Percy." Zoë warned him, and Percy looked at her, as if he didn't really care.

"It's not going to be the first time the Olympians have thrown something away, is it?" Percy countered, bringing both of his hands up and running them through his hair.

"What do thou mean?" She asked, slightly miffed by what he had just said. Sure, the Olympians were known for abandoning old customs and rules, but they rarely left any of their own undefended and unsafe, no matter how dysfunctional the family may be.

"Don't play games with me, Zoë." Percy countered, sighing in frustration. "The Gods have brought all of this upon themselves."

Zoë's eyes lit up with rage at that. "How dare thee!" She raised her voice as she turned to the Champion of Hell, her fists clenched as she appeared ready to fight the boy before her.

"Think about it; they've left their children to fend for themselves for how long, exactly? Yeah, they have Chiron to train them, but what else? They have no parent to guide them, teach them how to use their powers properly. I never realised how unhinged the enemies of the gods were until I... Well..." Percy trailed off, before kicking a piece of scrap metal far away in a temper.

"The Gods are forbidden from interaction with their own children!" Zoë argued, and Percy scoffed at that.

"Really? They break these rules all of the time! They just want a reason to cover their asses and an excuse to not have any interaction with their bastard children!" Percy roared, and a clash of thunder overhead almost startled Zoë. "These rules got my mother killed!"

Zoë looked away for a second, but then back at him. "Some don't know how to love their offspring. We are children to Lady Artemis, and she is a mother to us. That is one god who treats their children well. Apollo, he guides each of his children to camp, if not he asks us to help him out! Poseidon asks the mothers of his children to hang out around the seas so his people can protect them! Even Hades lived with his lover and children until they were murdered! So, how can a few gods make all of us bad?" Zoë argued, her eyes cold. "I'm sorry about your mother, but she was a grown woman. If you cared so much about her – why didn't you speak to her sooner?" Zoë continued, forgetting an important detail.

A bolt of lightning collided with a piece of rubble nearby, causing Zoë to jump out of her skin. She knew she had gone too far by blaming him for the apparent death of Sally Jackson. But, he needed to hear it.

"Hermes left his child, Luke, with a schizophrenic mother!" Percy cried out, "And he's now leading the charge against the gods for the Titan armies! There are moles in your training camp, all because of their parents being shunned by the Olympians or them simply not being loved by their godly parent! And I never knew of my mother, you idiot! I was approached by the demon I thought to be my mother and tell me of my birth mother's name, and that she was looking for me! And by that point, Hell was at her door and after her! How can I possibly get to her after I first find out she was already in the wind? HUH?"

Zoë was taken back by that and remembered him mentioning him not soon before he joined their quest finding out he had a mother. And her mind reached back to after they had been taken back to Camp Half-Blood, to when Artemis was speaking to Sally in the big house. But what confused her, was how did Artemis know so much about him? Why did she want to personally hunt for somebody, a boy as well?! It wasn't fully adding up; more and more questions were rising the longer she pondered on the facts so far. She wasn't seeing something – but what?

"Hell wasn't at her door, thee fool." Zoë answered. She remembered a brief detail about a scuffle Sally had had with a traitor to Olympus, from what Lady Artemis had told her. "Hecate had attacked her a while back, but that has been sorted. Artemis and her were searching for you, when they were captured by the General." The Lieutenant of the Hunt was choosing her words very carefully as she spoke to Percy, but she couldn't wrap her head around her head as to why Artemis would willingly search for a boy, especially one who was affiliated with Hell as far as they knew.

Zoë didn't necessarily have that opinion of Percy now, but she wasn't completely good with him, in terms of trust, either. He had many secrets, and one evil sword. That alone was very off putting. To add to that factor, she had witnessed him split two people in half. Not a pretty sight to say the least.

"Oh..." Percy didn't really know how to respond to that. He really had no clue. He really wanted to understand everything, but he was far from it. But Artemis was searching for him? That was new, but he shouldn't have expected anything less. But nothing could explain why. It seemed almost illogical.

Zoë refused to meet the boy's eyes, which wasn't hard. His long, matted hair draped over his eyes, shielding them form the beautiful glow of the silver moon. Only specs of sea green glowed through his hair, roaring with power - almost like he was Poseidon himself. His eyes were glued to the stove as if he was picturing something in there, enchanted by something he could see.

"We should head back." Zoë suggest, and Percy snapped out of his trance, nodding in agreement. Hissing as he picked up the hot stove, the two made their way back to their group outside of the Junkyard.

Setting it down in the middle of them, Percy switched the stove on and the gentle warmth eased out and soothed the group. Thalia's shivering decreased, colour returning to her features.

Grover and Bianca drifted off to sleep, and both Percy and Zoë sat there in silence. She decided to break it, as there was something that was bugging her about him.

"Perseus." Zoë said, and the young boy looked up from the fire, his powerful green eyes meeting her dark, obsidian eyes.

"Yes?" Percy asked, brushing his hair back behind his ears so that it stayed out of his eyes.

"Why betray Hell? What was it like?" She inquired, and Percy's darkened to a very dark green, almost similar to when Zoë first met him outside Westover Hall – dark, promising pain, and pure evil.

"I don't know." Percy answered flatly. He couldn't exactly say that his sword could talk to him – could he? That would make him sound even more insane than he already did. "I think I just snapped out of the conditioning we went under. I think finding out about my mother pushed me in this direction." He added. He wasn't even fully sure why he listened to the voices, if he was completely honest. He still feels that way, that he should start ignoring them and destroy his sword.

Zoë nodded, but she wasn't satisfied. "But what was it like?" She asked after Percy paused for a few moments, it clear that he wasn't going to continue.

Percy's gaze hardened, his eyes darkening even more. His breathing was heavy, and the air was incredibly tense. "Not pleasant." He answered bluntly.

Zoë was not accepting just that.

"No, you are going to tell me, Perseus." She demanded, clenching her fists. "Thou knew that man who was leading the monsters, and he knew thee, so why don't you start explaining what we are up against here!" She hissed, trying not to raise her voice too much so that it didn't disturb the others. She was constantly jumping between old and modern English due to how stressed Percy made her.

Percy sighed and looked up at the sky, before looking back at Zoë. "His name is Alistair. He, uh, is a demon, as you know. He is known as the "Conditioner" down under, he was the one who conditioned us all." He answered, gritting his teeth. The very thought of the man was acidic, and he hated everything about the monster. "He hated me, none of us knew why. I was the youngest candidate, so I just thought it was that. But it was probably because I wasn't a human like the others. I would heal quicker than the others, so he would hurt me more so that I would take just as long to heal." His voice was shaky, and it worried Zoë.

This demon was sadistic, yes. But there was something she was not expecting: this cold blooded monster before her was scared of this Alistair. And it wasn't some irrational fear. No, it was something far worse. It reminded her of some of the Hunters who had joined the ranks of the Hunt though her time, and they were all victims of severe domestic abuse. Their fathers or partners would beat them, and they would fend for their siblings or children. The mental torture some of these women would go through was excruciating; something Zoë would never wish upon anyone, including her worst enemies. Well, maybe them. But nobody else. She had witnessed a man beat his wife to death before, and it was not pleasant.

Remembering back, she and Artemis once had broken into a house and seen the father stab the mother in front of their two young children, a boy and a girl. Zoë remembered the cries from the children to this day. It was purely horrific. It was the first time she had ever seen Artemis willingly pick up a boy into her arms, and help a male at all. Artemis and her took the children to an orphanage, where they were looked over. Artemis had checked up on the two quite often, making sure that they were fine.

Zoë remembered when the boy reached manhood and wedded his wife. Artemis and her watched from afar, the one time they both agreed that a boy was a man – he had his own children, and loved the to the days they died. And she knew that Artemis was deep down proud of that young boy, and it was almost as if she helped the child out as she saw into the future, and that it would all happen like that. It was strange, but a beautiful memory that Zoë held. But she would never forget the fear that the children, the son especially, held towards their father. But, Artemis one day told her of the son's death, and that he died protecting his family and sister from his estranged father. Artemis had left for some time after that, and had killed the father – something they should have done a long time ago.

She never thought she would have to remember something like this in such a way. But she did. Percy reminded her exactly of that little boy she and Artemis saved that fateful day. Pretending to be fine, but deeply scarred and scared of their tormenters.

Zoë broke out of her thoughts and looked back at Percy, and he was almost a wreck. Is this what Hell was doing? Breaking down young children into either quivering messes or perfect soldiers? Using tactics even more barbaric than the Spartans or Norse in their trainings? She placed a hand onto his knee, and his shaking slowed until it was unnoticeable.

Percy looked up, and smiled slightly, before turning around to his sword, which lay by his side, sucking in the light around it.

"What is that, though? I've never seen such a design on anything in my life." Zoë asked, and Percy picked the sword up by its hilt so that the tip was resting in the sand, giving Zoë a detailed look at it.

It was almost majestic. But at the same time, it was horrific. The blade of the sword was dark, almost as dark as Hades' Helm of Darkness. The main blade was split down the middle, held together by scaffolding until they merged into a curved tip, the silver-like edge to the curved blade glinting in the glow from the fire. Zoë noted that the outside of the swords blade was just a normal, flat curve while the inside of the curve was serrated, almost like barbs that could be used to rip and tear the inside of whatever it cuts through. The serrated side had a small hook coming out of the base of the blade, threatening to cause even more damage in Zoë 's opinion. The base of the blade though, separating the hilt from the blade, was a different story. There was a massive, gaping jaw, with enough sharp teeth to rival that found in the mouth of a Great White Shark, and a small lip overlapping the blade, almost threatening to skewer somebody. The hilt appeared to be made from some layered stone, looking metamorphic, and a bladed hand-guard came over this, extended from the lip of the jaw on the sword.

"It's from Hell, not really sure who made it or how old it is – but it was locked away below even the Devil, so it must hold some dark secrets." Percy answered, picking his words carefully. There was no point in telling her about the voice he hears every so often, and that it comes from the sword. Then he would look proper crazy.

"Something worse than the infamous Satan?" Zoë suggested, fully aware of the Christian bringer of the Apocalypse. It was definitely one of the more twisted religions when it first formed, the punishment of heresy and social divides drastically grew when this religion first formed – thankfully she had never seen a deity from there. Not even an Angel, or Demon. But, there was one similar deity that they shared with the Greek Pantheon: a single Creator, one god who started it all. For the Greeks, they knew this being as Chaos. For the Christians, it was just God. All religions seemed to follow this principle, but nobody had ever met these "great creators".

"Maybe so," Percy agreed, placing the sword back down onto the ground, and turned back to the small burner in the middle of the group. Thalia had finally stopped shivering and seemed to be resting up fine, as did Grover and Bianca.

"You should get some sleep, Perseus." Zoë remarked, and Percy shook his head. "It wasn't an optional choice. Thou look almost dead from exhaustion."

Percy snorted, but decided to lay down none the less. "Wake me if you feel like trouble is coming." Percy commented, and Zoë nodded.

Just as Percy began to drift off, he heard Zoë comment, "I already feel like that," and then nothing. Just, darkness.

And then it began again. He began to fall, almost like forever, an evil cackle surrounding him, almost tearing him apart. He may not be in Hell anymore; but Hell was still inside him.

The Demon Rites

Percy's eyes felt painful as he opened them suddenly, face down in the cold, winter sand in the middle of the desert. The sun had still not risen, and he was definitely feeling the exhaustion. Bianca was now watching, but she was barely staying awake on her own. Upon seeing Percy waking up she seemed almost relieved, and after he told her he would finish off the night, Bianca thanked him and drifted back off to sleep, snoring lightly. Percy stood up onto his feet and felt his bones crack all over his body, along with his scars stretch and burn.

He looked up at the sky, and saw a tint of orange in the distance, just over a mountain range to the East of them. They would need to set off soon, as the area would get lighter which would make them larger, and easier to find targets. However, it was safer for them to travel during the day because of the demons during the night were more powerful.

A humming noise in the distance catches Percy's attention, and he turns towards it. From the East, a plume of sand was flying high into the air, and seemed to be approaching them.

Suspecting the worst, Percy reached down and snatched up his sword, holding it tightly as the dust seemed to get closer. He kicked Zoë in the side lightly, waking her. She looked up at him and he nodded in the direction of the sand, and Zoë also shot up onto her feet, drawing her bow and loading an arrow, pulling the string all the way back as she crept round, awakening the others.

The humming was getting louder and louder, and sounded more and more like a car engine than a horde of running monsters, but that didn't allow Percy to lower his guard. The approaching vehicle wasn't housing a mortal – it was something godly.

"It's somebody from your pantheon." Percy said just as everyone got onto their feet, and there was what looked to be a black sports car speeding towards them, and was starting to slow down just as it clearly came into view.

Grover's eyes widened when he saw the colour scheme, almost like he knew who it was. Zoë loosened slightly, but none the less pulled back a bit tighter on her bow string.

The car finally stopped in front of them, and out emerged quite a largely built man with a crew cut. He was wearing a black leather biker jacket, black jeans, combat boots, a white muscle shirt and a pair of sunglasses. A pair of beady red eyes glaring through the dark lenses, almost like they were alight on fire, and were looking straight at Percy.

"The quest to save Artemis?" The man asked, taking a few steps towards them, and Zoë and Grover bent down into a bow, followed by Bianca who didn't want to chance it. Thalia glared at the man, knowing who he is, and Percy remained in his stance, his eyes glowing with power as he glared at the god before him.

"And if we are?" Thalia remarked, and the man shot her a cold look, promising pain.

"Father asked me to come and help you guys out with the little Demon problem, well, more like Poseidon did." The man said to Thalia, and looked directly at Percy. "You do look a lot like your Grandpa, kid. Just get a haircut and you'll be his twin." The man joked, and Percy loosened up slightly. He clearly wasn't an enemy at that moment.

"Who are you exactly?" Percy asked.

"Lord Ares, God of War, punk. Learn your gods. Now kneel, the both of you." The War God warned, taking a dangerous step forward.

"Or what? Strike your sister down?" Thalia snapped, and Ares sent her a death glare.

"Not today, sister. Not today." He snarled, taking a step back and pointed at the car. "All I have to do is help you get to San Francisco and help you guys out with any demon problems, as we received word that some Ally guy is bringing the entire apocalypse down on you five."

"His name is Alistair. And he has already tried that, so you're a bit late." Percy commented, and Ares shrugged.

"Whatever, all I care about is doing what was asked and I leave and go back to preparing to check on the other Titans. Now jump in." Ares snapped his fingers and the black car glowed and grew in length, until it looked like that of a limousine.

The back doors of the sleek limousine opened up on its own, and Ares gestured towards the open door. Zoë and Thalia proceeded over to the door, followed by Grover and Bianca. Percy stood still, feeling Ares' gaze cutting through him.

The God of War's beady red eyes lowered to Percy's sword, the rising sun giving it an eerie glow. Ares looks like he was about to say something – but he didn't. Instead he lowered his head slightly, and nodded his head towards the open car door.

"Get in, punk. What are you waiting for?" He asked, before opening up the driver's door and getting into the limousine and starting it up, and Percy sighed, and walked over and got into the limousine.

The insides of the limousine were dark, and full of leather. A minibar was at the back, a pair of fridges stacked full of sodas and different kinds of alcoholic beverages. Percy decided to sit in the far corner from the bar, near the closed panel between where the quest was and where Ares was seated, driving them.

Percy barely sat down when he was almost thrown to the ground, Ares hitting the gas and taking off like a bat out of hell. He sat down and lay his sword down across the seats next to him, looking at the other four as they all got themselves a can or glass of something to drink. It was hard to see in the low lighting, but they all seemed to be having the same thing – Coca-Cola, in some bright red can.

Sighing, Percy tilted his head back and stared at the roof of the limousine, thinking. He couldn't make sense of anything anymore – it all seemed to be a jumbled mess. But, there was one thing he was dead certain on: He was needed back in Hell, it was clear that they were taking up arms and he was the only person not on their side and could get into the wretched place.

He just needed some time to think, he guessed.

The Demon Rites

Percy snapped open his eyes as he flew into the air, shooting upright and looking around urgently. He had fallen asleep, and they cleared to still be on their way West. Thalia was sitting near him, half asleep. There seemed to be a half-drunk bottle of some clear liquid in her hand, and she seemed passed out.

He got up and pried the bottle from her hands and looked down at it, catching a whiff of the contents of the bottle. It smelt almost like gasoline, and was potent. He looked at the label on the bottle and shook his head, taking the bottle back over to the minibar and putting it away.

He never knew that the stress of Luke would hit her this hard. Had they really been that close? Shaking his head, he returned to his seat, unsure of how long they had been on the road for.

He knocked on the panel and Ares opened it, peering round for a second before returning his eyes to the road. "What do you want, punk?" He demanded.

"How long we been on the road?" He asked, and Ares shrugged.

"No clue, but it feels like forever. But San Francisco is not too far away, maybe a few hours at most." He answered, not taking his eyes off of the road.

Percy nodded, and Ares turned his head slightly, just so that he could look at Percy.

"What was Hell like, kid?" He asked, his aggressive tone gone. He sounded... curious? But it wasn't of much surprise; of course, the infamous God of War would be interested in what Hell, the most evil and twisted place in all religions, was like.

"Awful," Percy answered, sitting back down properly, but turning his head slightly so that Ares could still hear him. "A lot of us died. We would also mutilate people, sometimes sneaking out to torture a few souls."

"All of you kids?" Ares inquired, a dark edge to his tone of voice.

"Yes," Percy replied flatly.

Ares growled in the front seat – he felt a bit sick after hearing that. "And I'm guessing that there were thousands of you guys?"

"Not sure really, but we were given numbers at first before we found out our names. Around 7,000 of us in my group alone." Percy nodded.

"Anyone who went by the name of Jack Street down there?" Ares asked.

Percy shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I think so, but I never really spoke to anyone. Why?"

"Went missing shortly after he was a month old. His mother murdered, she was a good woman." Ares looked back at Percy, and he refused to look at the god. "What happened?"

"He's dead. All of them have been mutated into monsters. He was one of them." Percy said bluntly.

Ares cursed, and clenched the steering wheel tightly. He wasn't happy. "He was the last of my original bloodline. My first demigod child, and now that family has been fully wiped out." He explained, and Percy wanted to tell him that he had killed him – twice, in fact. And once was over a pathetic spat.

"I'm sorry to hear that." Percy said. But he felt like he did not mean it. Well, he did, like he wished he had not killed him, but at the end of the day, the Jack that Percy knew would not be a good sight for Ares to see.

"Yeah... Well, thanks for telling me, kid." Ares snapped, and quickly shut the panel shut.

Percy just huddled up into a ball, and sat there in silence, staring at his legs. He was angry. At everything. Himself. His mother. His father, who ever that was. The gods. Alistair. Astaroth. Why was it all so difficult? He had no idea at all.

Everything was making less and less sense the more he sat there and thought about it all.

The Demon Rites

After a while of thinking, Percy shifted from his trance-like state as the limousine came to a halt. Outside through the tinted windows, Percy could see some buildings and in the distance, a large red bridge.

They heard the driver's door open and then their door opened soon afterwards, Percy saw the others get out. Sick seemed to be in the car, probably from Thalia.

He too climbed out, and was instantly bombarded with a fresh breeze and the strong smell of the sea. It was almost calming, clearing a lot of Percy's worries from his mind.

"San Francisco, kids, this is as far as I can drive you guys." Ares said, and then pointed to a mountain in the distance, with storm clouds building around it. "And to the base of that mountain is as far as I can take you."

Zoë nodded, and looked to the others. "Let's go then." And with that, the two hunters, satyr, demigoddess, god and ex-Champion of Hell began their journey on foot.

Half an hour later, the temperature dropped. They were in the glaring San Francisco sun – it should be of a reasonable temperature for them at that moment in time.

Percy stopped and looked around.

"What's wrong?" Zoë asked, and Percy pulled his sword off of his back.

"He is near." Percy answered darkly, as the air continued to decline in temperature.

The rest of the group followed suite, including Ares. "Who is he?" Ares asked, and Percy growled in anger, his eyes darkening.

"Alistair. He mutated them all." Percy said darkly, and continued to tighten his grip on the handle of hid sword, staring across the busy road where he saw the very demon he had just mentioned, in his usual black suit with the top three buttons undone, and his bald, shaven head and light stubble beard. Percy wanted to dive across the street there and then, but he knew nothing would matter – he would most certainly lose to this particular Demon.

Alistair whispered something, but the words were loud and extremely deep and dark. Scary, almost. He was unleashing his power, and Percy was feeling fear.

The world slowly turned dull in colour as a wave of energy washed over them all. Ares felt a heavy weight press down on top of him, making him feel like he was deep underwater.

"The Five Questers, and some War God." Alistair spat in disgust, his glowing black and white eyes locking with Percy's.

"Kids." Ares announced, taking a step forward, his eyes burning. He removed his sunglasses, and stared the Torturer of Hell down. "Get outta here. Save Artemis, I'll hold them off." And with that, a flash of red light enveloped Ares, and when the light died down he was covered in a black and gold armour, brandishing an enormous sword.

Before anyone could say anything, Ares let loose a war cry and charged Alistair, and the two began to fight. Not wasting time, the five teens quickly ran as fast as they could, knowing that the War God could only buy them so much time.

Monsters then began to swarm Ares as he duelled Alistair and began to lunge on top of him. He wouldn't die, but Ares would be out of action for quite a while. When the group were far in the distance, they realised they were nearing the base of Mount Tamaulipas.

In the distance, the sun was nearing the point as to when it was setting, the sky slowly pinkening at the horizon. A deep, throaty roar was heard from the distance. The five Questers stopped at the sound, understanding what it meant.

Ares was down. He brought them a long time, but there was one good thing – Alistair had exhausted himself for now, meaning that he was no threat for some time. A cackle was heard not too far off, however – skeleton teeth cracking in some form of evil, demonic laugh.

Spartoi. They were nearby. In the distance, an army could be seen marching towards the group.

"We will be cut off by that army – they'll be able to follow us through during sunset. " Thalia said, and Percy winced. He was thinking of doing something stupid. Very stupid.

"Then I'll divert them away – especially the Spartoi." Percy answered, taking a step away from the group.

"NO!" Zoë shouted at him. "We cannot lose another. Ares held them back for us – we all go or stay."

"No, he brought us some time." Percy countered. "We weren't expecting armies of monsters and demons to stalk us. They're after me anyway – this way you guys can save Artemis while I buy you some more time and meet up with you guys later." He did not leave much room for argument, and his mind was set.

Zoë shook her head, and then looked Percy in the eyes. "Don't die." She said, before turning her back and continued to walk towards the mountain looming over them. Thalia punched him as Grover and Bianca too said their goodbyes.

"I'll haunt you if I die." Percy joked to Thalia, and she smiled sadly, before pulling him into a tight embrace.

"I'll resurrect you and kill you over again. So, you better not die." Thalia said, before turning and running to catch up with the others.

Percy sighed, and reached behind his back to grab his sword, but decided against it. No, he told himself. Save the fighting for another time. Turning on his heel, he ran as fast as his legs could carry him, feeling like they were never touching the ground with how fast he was running.

He could hear the monsters behind him. He just had to keep running.

At the base of the mountain, they each bit back a cry for Percy as the saw an enormous swarm of monsters charging after Percy. He could not keep running forever, they all knew that... But for how long could he keep it up?

The Demon Rites

Whew! So, I forgot about my update schedule? Well, sort of, yeah. A-Levels last year went tits-up (my fault, I'll admit – studying has never been one of my strong points), so retakes are a bitch.

But yeah; I'm alive! Somehow... Christmas and such have been shit-shows, except for getting into Uni (yep... my updates are going to be somewhat even slower!). Alas, I was 18 a few months back and I can now officially say: Adulthood is not fun. Kids, I envy you lot – taxes alone are a pain in the arse.

So, when do I plan to next update? Well, I would like to suggest the end of February, but that's pushing my luck if I'm being completely honest. Maybe late March, until Easter time, to be safe? I'm sorry that these chapters are taking so long to write, but my current technique is flawed where I take such long breaks, breaking continuity, however these long breaks allow me to proof read my work thoroughly.

But, that's enough about me, I hope everyone appreciates this drawn out chapter, and had a lovely Christmas and a good (if possible) start to 2018!

Until next time!

~ The Prince of Souls