Note: Here's the next chapter. Hope you guys enjoy it. And keep leaving reviews and telling me what you think.

(Camp Jupiter, California)

Two legionnaires sat atop one of Camp Jupiter's watchtowers. Their shift was slow and eventless, so they were trying to keep themselves from being bored to death. Not an easy accomplishment.

"So," one said, giving his knife a polish. It had been a gift from his mother, a daughter of Mercury, before she had passed due to severe injuries seven years ago. "If you were told to kiss a harpy, or cut off your own tongue, which would you choose?"

"Seriously?" Asked the other, munching on a Twizzler. He was a sucker for them. "What kind of question is that?"

"Well, if you really want to hear the one about having two butts or picking fleas from a spider monkey again..."

"Shit, no thank you!" The second legionnaire exclaimed, refusing to return to that horrid query. "Alright, I'd pick kissing a harpy. It'd be unpleasant, but at least I'd keep my tongue."

"Fair point." The first shrugged. "Do you think anything interesting will happen today?"

"Hardly," the second replied, giving a long, drawn-out sigh. "Nothing's happened in the last year. No new half-bloods, no attacks by monsters, not even a visit from an Olympian. I'd bet you seventy drachmas that today will be as boring as any other."

No sooner had the boy said that when a wolf's howl was heard in the distance. It could mean only one of two things: one of Lupa's pack was wounded and in pain, or...

"A half-blood's on their way to Camp Jupiter," both sentries said at the same time.

"Let's go spread the word! The gate's gotta be open when they get here!" The first sentry said as he got up from his seat and ran to the ladder. He then stopped and turned to look at the other sentry, who stood there, smiling.

"That means you owe me seventy drachmas, sonny jim," he said, holding out his hand.

All his comrade could say was, "I'll...pay you later."

Almost a half-hour later, the main doors to the camp were opened, and three teenagers stepped inside: the first a black-haired Hispanic boy, the second a tall, thin Native American boy with grey-blue eyes and blonde hair, and the third a beige-haired African-American girl with freckles and heterochronic eyes.

"Names, please?" One of the guards asked them.

The black girl stepped forward. "Olivia Parks, daughter of Mercury. These are my friends- Trent Hammer, son of Vulcan..."she gestured at the Hispanic boy, "...and Alan DeVyre, son of Venus and legacy of Jupiter." She gestured at the Native American.

"Interesting." The guard tapped his chin thoughtfully before giving a slight shrug. "But then, considering I'm a son of Proserpina and legacy of Minerva, I can't really say much. Come along, you three. We need to head to the military command station so they can assign you to a cohort."

As the three alleged demigods followed the Roman soldier into the heart of New Rome, the boy named Trent whispered to Olivia, "that was easier than I thought. I was sure the Romans would be at least suspicious of us."

"At least we're inside. Now, we've got to start gathering information as soon as possible," the girl replied to him, "if we are to achieve what Emperor Perseus demands of us."

"Maybe we should let Emperor Perseus know," Alan remarked, "and maybe ask him for tips on how to gain the trust of the Romans."

"I concur," Olivia replied. "We'll send him a message tonight, just to be safe. For now, we start asking around and making connections, as he instructed. If our master's plans are to succeed, we need to be prepared for even the most unexpected turn of events."

"Always the rational one, eh, Olivia?" Trent remarked. "I can already see the riches he'll offer us..."

"Honestly," Alan put in, giving an exhausted shake of his head as he did so, "is that all you think about, you greedy son of a bitch?"

(Tartarus)

Meanwhile, Percy Jackson was attending to political matters in his private stateroom. While the monsters of Tartarus had mostly accepted his reign and thought of him extraordinarily highly, there were still a scant few who tried to sew discord among the populace. Radicals, anarchists, and all manner of common criminals. They had to be dealt with.

As he sat at his desk examining page after page of reports from multiple provinces, detailing everything from burglaries to full-on rebellion attempts, his somber expression became more and more pronounced.

"They were right," he mused. "Heavy is indeed the head that wears the crown. Only, unlike Zeus, I don't waste my time making up excuses or blaming others. I deal with the problems directly. I take steps to ensure everyone is safe and happy. I may not want to be King of the Gods, but I know now that Zeus let the power go straight to his head long ago. He is an unfair, unjust, twisted and vindictive ruler. He's a tyrant. No matter how loyal I am to Olympus, he himself doesn't deserve my loyalty. Or any demigod's loyalty, for that matter."

As he was just finishing the two hundred and twenty-third report, the hand mirror lying the desk next to him began to shimmer and glow. Realizing that this meant one of his agents was calling him, he picked it up and the face of Olivia Parks, aka the changeling Wit, appeared in the glass.

"What is it, Wit?" Percy asked.

"My lord Perseus, all goes as planned. We have made it to Camp Jupiter."

"Excellent. I have been informed that Yus, Ag and Vyll arrived at Camp Half-Blood a few hours ago. Remember: keep a low profile and gather intel from demigods for as long as you can. Find out what you can about Zeus's intentions."

"But what if the gods suspect something?" The hesitant changeling asked.

"Don't worry about that. I'll take care of it."

"Now I must go, my lord. It's time for our first armor inspection."

"Then who am I to keep you? Off with you."

"Of course, Emperor Perseus."

The contact was cut, Percy set the mirror down on the table and grinned.

That farthead uncle of mine won't see it coming, the son of Poseidon thought.

(Hestia's palace, Olympus)

Hestia sat on her sofa, with the twins Apollo and Artemis, sitting on either side of her. All three Olympians had a fresh cup of lemonade in hand, and a platter of biscuits and croissants lay on the table in front of them.

"So, you're saying that Percy has changeling agents inside the camps?" Artemis asked Hestia, who nodded.

"And they are to find out what Father's up to?" Apollo added. Again, Hestia nodded.

"The reason I'm telling you all of this is because we need more gods who are updated on the situation, in case Percy does something we don't expect," the eldest Olympian explained. "I trust neither of you will report this to the rest of the Council?"

"Never, Aunt Hestia!" Artemis exclaimed, repulsed by the very idea.

"We swear on the Styx and our immortal souls, we will not breathe a word unless you give us the okay," Apollo added.

"Good." The hearth goddess handed each of them a fresh biscuit, then took a sip from her cup of lemonade. "I think we can all agree that my brother is more irrational than ever."

"That's an understatement," Apollo said, rolling his eyes and giving a slight huff. "Yesterday I was on my way back from Hephaestus' workshop after getting my iPod fixed, and Pops said I was to not leave Olympus except to drive the sun chariot! Said something about not wanting me to be out and about, 'aiding that damn sea-filth behind his back'. I mean, geez, he didn't even wait for me to protest. Just stormed off. That guy is beyond paranoid! He's off his rocker!"

"And a few days ago, he told me to hunt for monsters across the States, even though no sightings have been reported in years," Artemis added. "He won't even let us go to Camp Half-Blood to rest! He just keeps us going all day, round the clock! Six of my younger Hunters have already suffered from heatstroke and aching feet!" She shook her head in disgust. "The more I listen to him, the more I want to stab him in the eyes with my daggers. Both of them."

Hestia sighed, frustrated by her brother's actions. "I apologize to both of you for what you have to endure from him. I never would've guessed he'd be reduced to such an impetuous, uncaring dolt."

The twins exchanged looks of shock and surprise.

"Wow, Auntie Hestia," Apollo said, "it's...weird hearing you talk like that."

Hestia blushed red. "Oh! I'm sorry, I let my frustration get the best of me."

"If that's you being frustrated, I'd hate to see you when you're well and truly angry," Artemis stated.

"But Artemis, dear, you've already seen me when I'm angry," the other goddess pointed out. "Remember? At the meeting about five years ago?"

"Oh yeah," Apollo said, shivering with dread as he recalled the moment of Hestia's explosive rage. "Almost forgot about that."

The three immortals continued eating and chatting, unaware that their moment of calm, serene relaxation would not last.

(Camp Half-Blood)

All the campers of Camp Half-Blood were gathered in the dining pavilion for dinner. Since the end of the Second Giant War, the number of new demigods had increased by at least fifty percent, meaning that there were now at least twice as many campers as there were before the war. The cacophony of noise occupying the pavilion was incredible. Deafening, even.

At one particular table- the Athena table- the changeling agent Ag, going by the cover name Arnold Picasso, was in a discussion with one of the other campers, a boy named Zeke Dominelli.

"My friend Sylvester Goodworth from the Demeter cabin says that he's heard about some strange stuff," Dominelli whispered to Arnold. "Trouble on Olympus. Word is Lords Zeus and Poseidon got into a fight last council meeting. Poseidon called him a pompous oaf without a shred of compassion or honor. Zeus called him an inferior dolt who can't help but envy other members of his own family. They were a single word away from trading punches right there in the throne room! I don't know about you, but I'd say the Olympians are having a hard time getting along, ever since Percy was sent to Tartarus."

"You don't say..." Arnold mused, rubbing his chin with an amused smile spreading across his face.

"Yep, that's right. And y'know what else? Zeus has talked to Chiron. Said that all half-bloods need to train more. New weapons and armor made, too. It's like they want us ready for a war or something. Question is...who are we going to fight?"

"I have a suspicion," remarked Arnold. "Do you know anything about what the other gods are doing about this?"

"Can't really say for sure," the other boy replied. "Hera's doing everything she can to keep the Council from coming apart. I thought that she would hate Percy for causing this ruckus in the first place, but instead she's actually defended him...called out her husband for killing the guy's family and talked back to her husband whenever he tried to justify his actions. Who knows? Maybe he'll end up sleeping on the couch eventually."

"I'd pay any amount of drachmas to see that," the disguised changeling chuckled. "Thanks for the info, Zeke."

"Anytime," the boy responded, giving his "brother" a handshake.

He then got up and started walking over to the Nike table. Reaching it, he whispered in his fellow spy Tobias Yang's ear, before turning and walking out of the pavilion in the direction of the bathrooms. It was the only place he'd be sure to get privacy.

Entering the boy's bathroom, he got in one of the stalls, held up his mirror-necklace, and said, "Lord Perseus...can you hear me, Lord Perseus?"

The image of his ruler shimmered into view on the tiny glass lens.

"I hear you loud and clear, Ag," the emperor of Tartarus said. "What have you got for me?"

"Something juicy, my lord," replied Arnold. "I've gotten word from a source that Zeus is forcing the campers to train as well as increase production of weapons and armor. I suspect it means he's fearful of you waging war on Olympus. I've also been informed that there are reasons to believe that the Olympian Council has lost a bit of its unity. Your father and Zeus nearly came to blows in their previous meeting."

Percy's eyes lit up. This was news to him. "Well done, Ag. Continue gathering information in the meantime. My uncle has good reason to fear me. I am far more formidable, more dangerous, than Kronos ever was."

"What do you intend to do now, Your Magnificence?"

Percy smiled. "I intend to send a message to the Olympians. A message that even the Blunder-God himself will understand. I will raise a force and attack both camps at once." The boy who had once been Olympus's greatest half-blood champion regarded his changeling operative with a raised eyebrow and a mischievous expression. "A force that you and the others will then fight off, thus earning Zeus's gratitude and favor. That should in turn make finding out his plans all the easier."

"A fine idea, mighty one," Arnold proclaimed, eager to compliment his emperor. "I shall perform my part very well. You have my word on that."

"I certainly hope you will. Farewell for now, Agent Ag." With that, the message ended.

(Percy's throne room, Tartarus)

Two gnolls dressed in heavy Tartarean Steel armor knelt in front of Percy's throne.

"You summoned us, Emperor Perseus?" One said.

"Yes, I did, Chieftain Gruzax, Chieftain Thykurg," was Percy's reply. "I need you two to lead a force of monsters to Camp Half-Blood and Camp Jupiter. It's part of my plan to make Zeus lower his guard so that my agents can discover his intentions. The forces must be large enough to be considered a threat, but not large enough to overwhelm the demigods. This attack is not a true strategic maneuver, merely a diversionary one."

"it will be as you command, glorious lordship," stated the chieftain on the right, Thykurg.

"We will move on the camps right away, my lord," added the chieftain on the left, Gruzax.

"I know you won't disappoint me," said Percy with a grin. Then he dismissed them with a wave of his hand.

Once they had left the room, he rose from his throne and headed down a side corridor. He gave a signal to an empousa servant to follow him. He walked with a purpose. His face was calm and rigid as stone. He knew what he had to do to ensure the success of his plan.

"Lord Perseus, um...where exactly are you going?" The empousa asked. She sounded nervous. Afraid, even.

"I don't intend to harm any demigods, my friend," he said after a minute of silence. "But I fully intend to make sure that Zeus understands I am not playing around. If this diversionary, two-pronged assault is to work, it requires a certain amount of...brutality."

The two headed down six flights of stairs, until they finally reaching a shed in the courtyard of the palace. They opened the door and descended down another two flights of stairs and through a long, narrow hallway, finally coming to a stop in front of a large door of black wood and titanium, guarded by a pair of brutish ogres layered in Stygian Iron plate.

"Your Powerfulness," the ogres spoke in unison, each giving Percy a dignified salute.

Percy nodded before gesturing at his servant, who rummaged through her satchel before producing three keys with skull-shaped heads: one made of the purest emerald, the second made of glittering sapphire, and the third of finest ruby.

He handed two of the keys to the ogres, who stuck them into two of the three holes in the door. He then stuck the third into its hole, and all three turned their keys in unison.

The door made a creaking sound as it opened.

"Are you...a-a-absolutely certain about this, my mighty emperor?" the empousa asked, voice shaking in paralyzing terror. "You...I mean no disrespect, but you haven't let them out of their prison since you first came to power."

To this the man gave a smile of strength, radiating power and confidence. "I assure you, my dear. I have prepared for every last opportunity, every possible setback. I have everything under control..."

He stopped in the middle of the room, where through the darkness six, no, ten, no, sixteen eyes stared back at him. Then, more eyes. Another sixteen.

But did this scare Percy? Not in the slightest.

"Judy, Roxxie...rise and shine, girls," he announced in the same manner of voice an owner would talk to a pet with. "How would you like to be let off your leash for a few hours?"

(Throne room, Mount Olympus)

Zeus sat on his platinum throne, glaring intensely at the one he had summoned for an audience: his own half-brother, Chiron.

"What do you mean, you won't?" The king growled. He was not used to being refused something.

"I mean no disrespect, Lord Zeus," the centaur explained, "but the half-bloods are already training enough. One hour and twenty minutes per day. To have them train for three hours as you have requested is not good for them."

"It is NOT a request, fool! It is an ORDER! A COMMAND!" the king once again shouted, anger alight in his dark blue eyes. "When I say they must train for three hours, then by my mother's bones and blood, that is EXACTLY what they will do!"

Chiron stood there, silent for a few moments, before finally raising his head and saying, "I won't do it, Zeus."

"You what?" Zeus repeated, equally frustrated and shocked.

"I said, I won't do it. Ever since Percy's banishment, I have seen you lose your morality AND your sanity bit by bit. I worry for you, dear brother. You are becoming more and more like your father, Kronos. I insist that you take a step back before you lose your grip and fall so deep into the abyss that you will never climb out. You were always paranoid and egotistic, but if this continues you will become a psychopath."

Zeus was gobsmacked by Chiron's words, and more so by how calm and direct they were. But, like always, he refused to admit he was at fault.

"You dare question my decisions, you damned centaur?!"

"Yes, I do, brother. This is not what a king would do. Not a good one, anyway. No matter what you say, I will not force my half-blood students to train any longer than necessary. They are children, after all, and deserve to be treated as more than just soldiers."

The king of the gods gave yet another growl, this one softer, as he mulled over this. He hated not getting his way, but at the same time he had to accept that the centaur was right. While he did think little of half-bloods, he decided that it would be for the best if they not overexert themselves in training. At least, not yet.

"Very well, Chiron. The training period shall remain one hour and twenty minutes. You may leave."

Chiron bowed respectfully, and then he left the room.

"That insufferable equine..." he muttered under his breath.

"You realize, of course, that this is all your fault," came a voice from beside him. He looked to his right, and there stood his wife and sister, Hera.

"Don't start with me now, Hera," the god of lightning and thunder snapped. "I am definitely not in the mood for your pontificating today."

"I'll let you know when I care what you're in the mood for," was her retort. "What you need to understand is if you hadn't gone off the deep end and killed Percy's mortal family, and THEN brainwashed his half-brother so that he would have no choice but to kill him, then you wouldn't be in this precarious position. Percy's flaw is loyalty. He was always steadfast in his devotion to Olympus. But no...you just HAD to ruin it. At least he's only coming after you and not the rest of us."

"Why...that...you little..."Zeus stammered, caught between a mix of rage and embarrassment. "I had every right to punish the boy!"

"'Punish'?! He didn't even do anything wrong!" Hera shouted back.

"His power was significant! Do you think I would just sit around waiting for him to usurp my throne?!"

"And HOW EXACTLY would that make ANY difference?! He hates your guts and wants to take you down anyway!"

"Because-!" Zeus started to shout, but then he stopped. He could think of nothing to say to justify his choice and course of action.

"I rest my case," Hera declared, giving her husband the most triumphant grin that he'd ever seen. "When are you going to learn that your actions have consequences, Zeus? I mean, bad enough that you've cheated on me for more women than I can list in a week or even a month, get in constant arguments with your brothers over crap as stupid as who was Mother's favorite child and blame everyone else for your foolish mistakes. Now, you've done something so horrible that I don't think I can take being in the same room with you anymore. You've sentenced the world's bravest, most powerful, and most honorable demigod to a fate he did not deserve, while also slaughtering his family, mortals who had committed no crime against you! All in an effort to demoralize and psychologically demolish him! Can you get any more despicable?!"

By this point, Zeus was shifting around and staring down at his toes. Like most husbands, he was not enjoying this verbal assault from his wife.

As the Queen of Olympus strode out of the throne room, she called out over her shoulder, "Just know, Zeus, that whatever Percy does from here on out, it'll be all on you!"

With these words, the goddess left her husband alone, stewing in his shallow frustration and contempt.

(Camp Half-Blood, New York)

Just outside the barrier of Camp Half-Blood stood a small horde of monsters. Numbering just under two hundred, it was far from overwhelming, but then, it wasn't meant to be. It was meant to make it clear to the Olympians- especially their king- that Percy Jackson was making his move.

Row after row of gnoll warriors in scrounged metal and hide armor, wielding weapons of average or poor quality, were reinforced with hulking, beastly ogres with clubs and hammers, a back rank of drow crossbowmen, and twenty battleax- and greatsword-wielding Scorpiotaurs. But that still wasn't all. Bringing up the rear, of course, was Judy, one of Percy's two eight-headed dragons, the Oktakefalos.

Chief Gruzax smirked as a gnoll sub-chieftain approached him and said, "Gruzax, the troops are ready. Why aren't we attacking?"

Gruzax regarded the other gnoll with a menacing look. "Are you really that dense, you sack of rotten meat? This isn't a proper attack. It's a declaration of intent. We are to force the half-bloods to mobilize so Emperor Perseus's agents can find out more about what the tyrant Zeus is planning. We cause extreme disturbance and noise, but few casualties."

The poor creature looked nervous as he nodded as replied, "Of course, my chief."

With a savage grin, Gruzax drew a serrated sword of Tartarean Iron and shouted a command to his monstrous underlings.

"Onward, warriors of Tartarus! Let us show those annoying godspawned filth what we can do!"

The members of the horde all raised their weapons and roared and shouted in kind, eager for battle.

Note: I know this chapter isn't as long as I said it would, but writing can be difficult at times, and I was just so desperate to get it up. I promise the NEXT one is gonna be longer.