Hey guys, I'm sorry that I haven't been updating this story as frequently as I would like, but I'll try. I've been very busy, I will try to update often. Now this chapter has three different P.O.V's, but I made sure to keep them all clear. I'll try not to do this too often, but none of these segments were long enough for me to even consider them a chapter. Percy is mentioned in this chapter, but you will meet or re-meet characters. And find out a bit of what happened to Dutch, but I don't think I'm going to be done with him just yet. Please don't hate this chapter. The next one is going to go strait back to Percy, but this is going to help me progress the story along and help connect with other ideas I have for the story. It will give you a little more detail about what is happening off of Olympus and I think I'll even do a chapter from Paul's POV.

Disclaimer, I do not own Percy Jackson, all rights belong to Rick Riordan.

If Dutch had known robbing the kid was going to be as easy as it was, he would have done it sooner. He smiled cruelly, showing off the cavity filled remains of his rotten teeth. On top of getting new clothes and a new toothbrush, Dutch had also acquired more money then he had seen in years. After pulling the money out of the bag, the man had bought himself a hamburger at one of the local street vendors. Maybe he should have felt bad for robbing the kid blind, but his hunger outweighed his empathy.

"Kid was probably a runaway." He decided aloud and took a rather large bite out of his meal.

Despite the cold that bombarded him through his coat Dutch was grateful to have warm food on his stomach. It had been many days since he had taken the kid's bag, but he made sure to spend the money wisely. He smiled as he finished off the last of his burger and then Dutch began to rifle through the bag for a jacket or a long sleeve shirt. When his fingers ran along a smooth surface he winced. The kid's picture.

What kind of runaway took a family photo with him? Dutch carefully pushed the frame aside, he felt like the image was too personal for his prying eyes. When he finally found one of the boy's hoddies he pulled it out and began to slip it on over his jacket. Immediately he could feel the cold recede from his skin.

"That smell." A voice muttered.

At first Dutch didn't find the observation too odd, many people remarked about the stench that came from the allies so it didn't bother him too much. But then he realized that the voice hadn't come from the street, it came from farther into the ally. His heart pounded rapidly in his chest. Dutch knew that he was an easy target for anybody to just steal the clothing off of his back. The man was a coward, that was why he stole from an injured kid rather than try to pick-pocket a better off stranger. He quickly zipped the bag and slung it over his shoulder.

"Who's there?" Dutch tried to sound braver than he was.

A large shadow started to peeled from the wall of darkness. It lumbered closer and closer to him, its large feet hit the ground as if it weighed nearly as much as a baby elephant, Dutch's lower jaw trembled as the figures large form seemed to over take his considerably smaller one. The ground shook a little with each step it took. Dutch could smell dirt and sweat and peanut butter as it neared him. A large bear-like paw reached out towards the cowardly man.

"Why do you smell like him?" It demanded. Dutch's heart was almost tearing its way through his chest.

"Who?" He asked and took a half a step back. "Who are you talking about?"

The figure didn't say anymore as it nearly ripped his arm off when it yanked the bag from him. Did it know the boy? He heard it take in a deep whiff of the sent coming from the bag. Was the freak able to smell the kid? Dutch's head hurt just thinking about it, he sure didn't want to stick around to find out. After sheading the jacket Dutch jumped to his feet and rushed from the ally screaming like a maniac. He so wasn't about to get killed for a bunch of stolen junk.

Tyson studied everything about the old bag. It smelled like him, his friend, the only kid in school who hadn't made fun of him for not understanding things or his obsession with peanut butter sandwiches. Percy Jackson. Just being around the dark haired boy always seemed to cheer Tyson up, Percy smelled just like daddy when his sent wasn't overwhelmed by the stinky smell of beer and Percy's step-father. That mean man hurt Percy and his mom all of the time. Without even realizing he said anything, Percy had told him it had gotten worse when his mom stopped sending him to boarding school, they didn't have enough of that green paper to pay for it.

If there was one thing Tyson did know, it was that people wouldn't give you food if you didn't have the green paper. Everyone was mean to him, except for Percy who always packed a secrete lunch for Tyson when the mean man wasn't watching. His friend had gotten caught a few times and came to school with no lunch and a black eye, but even then Percy always tried to make the best of things for Tyson's sake, despite the fact that Matt Sloan was bullying the two of them to no end. When Percy got expelled things only got worse for Tyson, all of the kids teased him since Percy wasn't around to threaten them away or tell them it's wrong to pick on him. Eventually Tyson excused himself from the school, forever.

He missed Percy.

"You're such a retard and a freak, no wonder Jackson abandon you." Matt's voice echoed in his ear. "Too bad he didn't decide that sooner, he and I could have been friends."

"Percy didn't abandon me..." Tyson whispered and clutched the bag tighter to his chest. "And I'm not...whatever that word means."

The young Cyclops didn't know why that stinky man had Percy's bag, but he was sure he was going to return it to his friend. A spark of giddiness hit him, he'd get to see his friend again. He liked it when he got to see Percy again, Percy reminded him of daddy. It had to be a sign from his father, Percy was nearby, he could see his friend and they'd eat peanut butter sandwiches together. Tyson let his eyes cast up to the dark sky above, he never saw stars in the city, but he knew that somewhere his daddy was watching out for him.

"Thank you daddy!" He called to the sky merrily, "I will find my friend!"

With his head held high, Tyson began to walk along the streets of New York, and followed the sent of his best friend, his only friend. Percy Jackson.

Slate walked through the camp that had once been filled to the brim with Greek half-bloods. Now, it was overflowing with monsters, titans, and a few rouge demigods who had joined their cause. Many of the cabins had been burned down after their takeover, Zeus's had been the first to go. When they had first taken over, the camp had been cheerful and full of life, but after occupying it for a few years the land seemed dull and grey, almost as if it were filled with smoke. The sun hadn't shined since the day they overcame the demigods. It had probably been the doing of the god of the sky.

Normally Slate would be on the streets scrounging around for another demigod to force into their ranks or feed to the troops, but after the big scene he made the day he tried to capture Percy Jackson, the boss wanted to talk to him. It wasn't a good thing when your 'employer' wanted to talk to you after a major fiasco that drew the attention of hundreds of people. You couldn't exactly explain why you pulled a gun on a kid in a room crowded with people. Slate had lied through his teeth and told them it was just a drill incase he did actually come into a situation like he had. Humans were gullible, most believed him.

Though the boy's English teacher had shown up and pestered him about the demigod.

As he neared the 'Big House', at least that's what the Greek demigods called it, Slate couldn't help but dread having to explain that he lost a powerful demigod while making a huge debacle. The 'Big House' was a very impressive looking building, you had a view of virtually the whole camp when you stood on its deck. It was only fitting that it would be the dwelling of the time lord, until he received a vessel. The boards creaked beneath his feet as Slate entered the building. All of the windows had been covered by thick blankets to keep as much outside light out as possible. Even though the room was nearly pitched in darkness, Slate could see faint outlines of furniture pushed against one wall, a ping pong table to the other, and in the back a softly glowing golden coffin.

"Slate." The voice almost seemed to rake against his brain. "I heard that you had caused a disturbance, at the feet of the gods no less."

Immediately, the monster got to his knees. "I am sorry master, my partner and I were chasing a demigod. He got away."

The silence in the room was defining. Slate sat patiently, waiting for his master to respond, would he yell or kill him? It felt as if the whole room was still and just as lonely as the camp that surrounded it. A cozy and cold place for the time lord to rest. Unless you looked at the bloody ping pong table and took in a whiff of the faint metallic scent that was engraved into every inch of the room. The table was often used for interrogations and torture, it was their tool for breaking willful demigods, though none knew it. Every child who gave up was sworn to keep their mouth shut, the others were taken to the pens with the satyrs' and the rest of their 'stock' to await their deaths.

Demigods weren't aloud in the 'Big House' for obvious reasons, except for the master's lap dog who spent most of his time doting over their ever sleeping guest who was locked up in the cluttered attic. If she awoke they didn't need the girl scampering off and out of their clutches. Not when she was possibly their key to victory. There was also the son of Jupiter, her brother, but Slate doubted there was much they could do to sway the hard headed Roman, especially not after they destroyed his precious camp. And then there was Percy Jackson, Slate remembered the rumors all those years ago about a child of Poseidon being sired.

Is it possible that Percy Jackson was the son of Poseidon.

"Why should this one demigod matter?" Kronos asked coolly.

"He's powerful, master." Slate explained quickly. "I haven't seen a demigod as powerful as him in centuries maybe even longer than that."

The time lord seemed to be considering what his subordinate said, "The boy, what is his name?"

"Percy Jackson, sir."

"Bring the boy to me." His master ordered immediately. "I wish for him to be on our side. If he is as powerful as you say then he could be the vessel I've been looking for."

Slate could feel himself growing more nervous, "All due respect, my lord, but I highly doubt they're going to let the boy off of Olympus anytime soon."

"I'm the master of time." Kronos laughed. "I am patient, but I think I'll visit this Percy Jackson in his dreams. Though it seems he is finding his way to me right now."

"He's here?" Slate blinked in confusion and turned to eye the front door.

"Not physically, I doubt he even realizes that he is summoning himself here." The master of time chuckled almost fondly. "He isn't going to remember any of this, despite the power you claim he has, the boy has a lot to learn about his abilities and how to control them."

"Sir?" The monster swallowed dryly. "Do you think he is the child from the rumors? Poseidon's kid?"

"Return to your post, Slate." Kronos dismissed him without answering the question. "Keep a look out for our little hero."

You have just caught a glimpse of what's happening outside of Olympus :) I wanted to expand on the plot a little bit more, please tell me what you think! Do you feel bad for Tyson? What else should happen to Dutch? Am I doing a good job? Do you guys have any suggestions out there?