Disclaimer: I don't own PJO or HP

AN-1: I couldn't control myself from writing an extra chapter this cycle.

AN-2: I have a P*T*R*N, where you can read the NEXT FIVE CHAPTERS right now, and the same for the subscribestar.

AN-3: A very big thanks to HadesReynes and LordLexx for the edits, as well as an extra one to Hades for being such an awesome beta! You guys are awesome!

AN-4: A shoutout to my Celestial Level Patrons Gerald, Known ART, Mrmeme101, Russel M, Potterfan, Roy Wood, Suhayb Hussain, Michael Witkowski, Joe Schindler, Juan Hernandez, Joshua and Chris Vance and Florian Muller and Russell Taylor.

A shoutout to my Presence level patron as well, the awesome Arman Darklich. You guys all rock!

31 July 1987

"Well, you were only a foot away from the bullseye this time," Michael snorted as he ruffled Harry's hair, snickering at the withering look the shorter boy was giving him. "Come on, that's enough practice for today. Now let's get to lunch before Abigail and Dan finish everything."

"But what about sword work?" He raised an eyebrow at the blond, "You can't just show how good you are at archery and then expect me to leave you without a bout or two?"

"I swear to my father, you were a lot better in the starting months," he grumbled, willing his sword into his hand as Harry did the same. "Now, first blood or weapon out of hand?"

"Weapon out of hand," he grinned, feeling the familiar weight of his xiphos settle into his palm as he twirled the weapon, its edge singing through the air. "Wouldn't want to mess up that pretty body of yours, not after what happened last night at the dinner."

"Yeah," Michael absentmindedly nodded, remembering the feel of Cynthia's wonderful ass grinding upon his crotch right in the full view of everyone. "That'd be ba-WHOA!"

Bringing up his sword to parry the slash that came out of nowhere, he winced at the jolt that traveled up his arm from absolutely abnormal strength behind that blow. However, seeing an opening with the way Harry's arm was stretched, he brought his sword and landed the pommel square in the center of his thigh. Using the infinitesimally small bit of lightspeed that he was able to access, Michael barreled into Harry, sending him flying away into the forest with a shockwave that cracked the ground beneath them. Huffing and panting like a dying animal due to that single picosecond he had spent in the lightspeed, Michael fell back on his ass and sighed happily. It wasn't that he wanted to curb stomp the kid, not when he had finally started to gain some confidence and ego due to his quickly growing magical powers and physical prowess. But he had a date with the totally hot, bombshell daughter of Aphrodite in a few minutes, and he wasn't going to let Harry's desire to win a swordfight get in the way of that.

Because damn if he wasn't going to fuck Cynthia and her thick ass into the ground tonight.

Turning away from the destroyed trail of trees, he sighed and shook his legs a little, his whole body aching like someone had used it like a punching bag for hours on end. Winking at a gaggle of girls practicing with the spear, Michael had just returned his sword to its bracelet form when a punch landed on his cheek and sent him flying through the air.

Skipping and rolling across the ground, he groaned and winced as the broken fingers of his left hand made themselves known, along with the bruises that were no doubt forming all over him. Stumbling to his feet, Michael shook his head, seeing double for a few moments as opened and closed his jaw. This…this was exactly why he didn't want to spar with anyone other than his own siblings, or the Hermes, Demeter and Dionysus campers. Being a son of Apollo had given him a lot, be it speed, archery, swordsmanship or even the handsome looks…but what it hadn't given him was the sheer physical strength some of the cabins sported. He was magnitudes stronger than the strongest bodybuilder on the planet, and last, he had checked, bench-pressing an eighteen-wheeler had been no sweat for him…but he was still weaker than the weakest child of Ares or Hephaestus.

Harry, it seemed, was definitely the son of a god who had physical strength involved in any of his domains, because the kid was increasing in physical stats like crazy. Spitting a tooth that had come loose from the force of the punch, Michael glared at Harry, who was standing right in front of him with a carefree grin on his face. That one punch had bruised the right side of his face, and knocked a tooth out of his mouth, to say nothing of what the rest of his body was feeling. And that smug little bastard was standing there with just a tattered shirt, torn up shorts…and a dozen little cuts. With a smile.

And this was after he had been thrown through more than a dozen thick trees.

By the gods, who the fuck was this freak's father?!

"That was probably the hardest you have ever punched me!" He said, opening his palm and summoning his sword back to him, "How did you move so fast? One second you were stopping my sword and the next I was flying through the trees!"

"I have learned how to access the speed of light, but I can only do it for a nanosecond or three," he grunted out, motioning to his legs. "Any longer and I will destroy myself due to the overload of divine energy. Now, let's get this over with so that I have some time to heal before my date."

"I bet Cynthia would love to kiss you better," came the snort as Harry looked at the daughter of Aphrodite, who was teaching some of her siblings to use charmspeak, "or maybe rub ointment on you with her tits."

"I will have words with Turner about leaving around mags like that," Michael grumbled, remembering the innocent, slightly excitable kid he had first met a year ago in the infirmary. "I am half sure that one of these days I am going to find you rutting some girl right in the middle of the camp."

"Maybe," Harry grinned back, eyeing the buffet of flesh that was the Aphrodite and Demeter girls. "Though, I will blame it on you and Turner. You guys are always going on and on about these things…I was bound to get affected."

"You sure it wasn't that Naiad who turned you into a lecher?" He asked in return, using the healing powers of Apollo to mend his body. "That one that mistakenly kissed you on the lips instead of the cheek she was aiming for?"

"Pretty sure it was you both," Harry snorted, "and as I have come to know, we mature a lot differently to the mortals. Not my fault I get a hard-on at the sight of those jean-clad butts, or the tight tops and shirts that have suddenly become a fashion here."

"Yeah," Michael chuckled, raising his hand in the air and conjuring hundreds of bolts of light above him, "Imagine my surprise when my ten-year-old ass got an erectiON!"

The bullets of light shot towards Harry at the last word, and the son of Apollo fell to his knees, dead on his feet and spent beyond measure. However, as the tiny bullets of light exploded all over the area where his opponent had been standing, Michael grinned and looked up at the sun.

"Well Dad, looks like that trick worked," he groaned, feeling the warmth of the sunlight increase for a second as his energy got replenished a little bit, "Now, let's see about that Ambrosi-"

"Damn that hurt," a voice spoke up from the area still clouded in dirt clouds, and Michael groaned in defeat as he turned around, barely able to keep his arms and legs from trembling, "Good thing I got that shield down, otherwise I would have been toast. Didn't know we were having a battle of powers, though. I thought it was all about swords this time."

"Fuck me."

"So, how did your spar with Michael end?" Turner asked as soon as he lay down upon his cot, the older boy leaning down from his bunk above him. "I heard some explosions, and saw the bit where you were sent flying by him from my post."

"I punched him in the kidney, and then blasted him across the ground into the lake," he answered, stuffing his face into the pillow and letting out a groan. "I swear, if someone else asks me about the spar one more time I will blast his face with fire."

"You should have seen how Dianthe was looking at you after you turned away from him though," Lee, another unclaimed demigod snorted from his right, cupping his cheeks as he smiled at him "'Oh my God! Harry is looking so sexy! How the fuck did this kid grow abs overnight!' Gods, she looked ready to jump you!"

"After seeing all the porn you guys keep stuffing beneath my eyes, I might have just let her," Harry chuckled. "Though, maybe not jump me. Her tits would have suffocated me to death before anything would happen."

"Damn Turner, we have turned our little friends here into a lecher!" Lee exclaimed, looking up at the son of Hermes, "You sure he is not the son of Eros or even Lady Aphrodite?"

"Nah," he said quietly, grinning down at the boys. "They both claim their kids quickly, and besides, with how fast he has grown, I have no doubt that a strong male god is his father."

"Yeah, kid was a runt when he came here," Lee snorted, reaching out to ruffle Harry's hair. "Now look at him, the body of Matt Biondi and a height of 5 feet at just nine years of age. Even for a demigod, that is absurd unless you are a kid of the War god or the Forge God."

"If you guys are done talking about me like I am not even here," the kid in question snarked, whipping out his hand and slapping Turner on the back of his head, "Then please shut up and let me go to sleep. And we have Capture the Flag tomorrow, the first one ever, so don't wank off to those mags you are hiding under your pillows. With how bitchy and itchy the Hunters were when I saw them last year, they will be out for blood."

"Aye Aye Captain," Lee grinned, saluting him as he sat up. "Though, what will you do without your best archer? Last I checked, Michael and Cynthia still weren't back from their date. You sure he is not going to die of dehydration? Cause I tell you mate, that daughter of Aphrodite is a succubus and she will suck his nuts dry."

"Gross," Turner gagged, and Harry was right behind him as he sent a small shock right at Lee's nuts. "Thanks for that imagery, Lee."

Snorting at the antics of his other two best friends, Harry closed his eyes and sent a prayer to Hypnos…so that somehow he may have a dreamless sleep for once. The reason? A continuous series of visions and dreams that had been coming to him for the last three months. There was no rhyme or reason to them, or at least none that he could decipher. Each one was different than the last, and no vision had ever repeated itself.

Some showed him the Golden age of humanity under the reign of Lord Zeus, while the others showed him the failures and cruelty of gods such as Hades, Hera and Athena. But for the life of him, Harry couldn't figure out why the hell was he being shown these things? Was it his divine parent's doing, preparing him in the history of their world? Was this something every demigod underwent, despite the lessons from Chiron every day?

However, before he could think more about it, the world in front of him shifted and lit up with a brilliant white, and he mentally sighed at yet another unanswered prayer. Opening his eyes with a sigh, he saw a scene that made him blink in shock. He was standing in the Olympian Throne room, and right in front of him were the chained and bound forms of Lord Poseidon, Lord Apollo, and Lady Hera with the other Olympians in their thrones.

"I am more amused than angry you know," the familiar voice of Lord Zeus echoed around the room as the God of Thunder and Sky sat on his throne, his face resting against his fist as he looked down at his son, brother, and wife, "How could you four even think that you would be able to depose me, the King of Gods?! I have more power in my fist than the four of you combined!"

"You are a tyrant brother, nothing more, nothing less," the battered and bruised form of Poseidon scoffed, spitting in the direction of his King, "You very well know the reason for your power over us. Since your birth, you have considered yourself well above the rest of us, all because of the reason that mother decided to grow a backbone after five of her children were swallowed. You took the throne that rightfully belonged to Hades or Hestia, and we let you because of a misguided sense of thankfulness. You have filled the council with your children, sent away our brother, and taken Hestia's throne to give to this drunken, waste of sperm you call a son."

There was complete silence in the throne room as Poseidon stopped speaking for a moment, and every god was looking at the Ruler of Seas like he had gone mad. A crackling sound however drew their attention towards Zeus, who was looking down at his brother with murderous fury, his master bolt clutched in his hand as errant bolts of lightning arced off his body and tore into the marble around him.

"Speak your next words wis-"

"Oh, stuff that spear up your asshole!" Poseidon interrupted, glaring up at his brother as he nodded towards the weapon, "We all know why you have all this power now, despite being marginally stronger than us all those centuries ago. Your children have spared no inch of land in Greece where your praises are not sung, and when whole kingdoms pray to you first for every fucking reason then why won't you have more power than the whole council combined! You are a tyrant Zeus, a dictator hiding behind the facade of democracy…and mark my words brother, your day will come, just like it did for our father. You may have absorbed Metis and prevented the birth of your doom by her womb, but prophecies cannot be changed…you will suffer Zeus, at the hands of your son you will suffer."

"I have had enough of this nonsense!" Zeus thundered, launching his bolt at Poseidon and sending him flying to the doors, "As the King of Gods and the Ruler of Olympus, I call for a vote against Poseidon, Hera and Apollo for the crimes of treachery, attempted deposing of their King and conspiring against the welfare of the Gods and Humans alike."

"Guys, I can't find Michael anywhere," Abigail panted as she came to a stop, looking at Turner and Michhone, the latter being the eldest demigod in the camp. "I think we will have to start without him. No doubt he and Cynthia are still fucking each other in some motel."

"Well, you go and tell Andrew he has the command of the archers today," Turner murmured, waving his hand at the daughter of Apollo. "Also, I want zero shit from any of them today. No jokes, no taunts for the Hunters. Just focus on immobilizing them. The Ares cabin is not participating today, and neither is the Demeter cabin…and the less said about my cabin, the better."

"Well, we have the plan, so stic-WHAT THE FUCK?!" Michhone shouted, jumping almost all of the way to the treetop as her eyes widened into saucers, "What in the name of Zeus is the Oracle doing out of the Big House?!"

Shocked screams and whispers rose up from all over the demigod population as the skeletal figure of the Oracle walked toward them. Emerald green mist swirled about its form, the tattered, barely there remains of the clothes it had once worn glowing with ethereal light as it soundlessly moved through the pale-faced crowd around it.

It came to a stop right in front of Turner, but instead of looking at him…the oracle turned it face skywards, and jade green mist billowed out of his mouth. It took a single, rasping breath, and the rattling, dry sound echoed all over the area. The wind died down, the leaves stopped rustling, and even the demigods stopped breathing as the Oracle of Delphi took a second breath, her brightly glowing eyes looking at something above them.

"Oh shit," Lee whispered quietly, as he too looked up. "She is looking at Harry."

"I said, get the fuck out of my way!" He snarled, slamming the butt of his xiphos into a Hellhound's snout and then opening it from mouth to stomach, making its dark maroon blood splash out—right before the monster was sent back to the Pit in a puff of golden dust. "Fucking. Idiotic. Little. Shits."

The pause between each word was punctuated by him lobbing fireballs at the canines, making their howls of agony echo through the empty area, right before he fell on top of them like a maelstrom and carved them up into nothing but monster dust. Panting a little as the last Hellhound disintegrated under his fist, he looked up at the dusty motel ahead of him. Cliche…but then again, Michael was a lover of the movies that went like this. Taking a look at the motel once again, Harry blinked as he realized something. Despite being situated on a busy highway, there was not a single another vehicle besides the car Cynthia owned. And if that wasn't shady enough, the lack of any life inside the motel certainly was.

Gripping his sword tightly, he moved forwards to the building, an invisible shield forming all around him as he drew upon his inherent magical powers. Approaching the Countach, he stopped in his tracks as he saw something glistening upon the white door of the car, the Sun making it impossible for him to see anything else as it shone down upon the stark white car. Moving closer, Harry froze in his tracks as he was finally able to make out what the thing on the door was.

Blood.

The Sun glinting off the door had made it impossible for him to discern it a few feet back, but now that he was closer, he could see it clearly. As clearly as he could see how it covered the shattered remains of the windshield too, the sun reflecting off the blood and lighting up the insides of the car with a ghostly red color.

When you see the father through the son,

And find no sign of the Jewel,

Know that you have found what you wanted to.

A Dove will be lost to the progeny of the Sun,

And to save her from a fate most cruel,

Know that you must become what you are meant to.`

"Mic-Michael?" He whispered with shock, looking at all the blood. The seats, the dashboard and even some of the roof was completely covered with it. Gripping the door, he ripped it off the vehicle like it was made of paper, throwing it into the motel behind him as he looked inside the car…and promptly wished that he hadn't.

Michael's right hand was lying there on the seat, torn off at the elbow…with his sword still clasped in the fingers. A numbness spread over his mind as his eyes refused to move from the limb, despite every fiber of his being wanting to move away from the car. For the first time in years, Harry felt his magic bubble out of his control, and just like that night three years ago…he felt something inside him click.

Thunder rumbled overhead, and clouds formed in the sky as he took a deep breath, the air acting as fuel for the fire that was starting to burn inside him. Rage overtook his mind like it never had before, even during the worst of what the Dursleys had to offer. Since coming to the camp last year, Michael had done his best to make things good for him, from personal lessons in bladework, to just hours-long chats about anything and everything. He had been a brother in all but blood to him, and slowly, Harry had realized that he loved Michael.

And now, something had torn Michael away from him. He wasn't a fool, and neither was an optimistic, bright-eyed kid. Not anymore, especially after what he had seen in the last year. He knew that Michael was dead, otherwise he would have used an Iris message to call for aid. Moreover, he and Cynthia were probably engaged with each when the monsters got a drop on them, otherwise, nothing short of a Tier 3 monster would have gotten him.

Unknown to him, his heightened emotions were triggering his latent demigod powers, just like the extreme bout of hate and anger had done it three years ago. But this time, this time his body was hundreds of times stronger, and able to handle the divine energy without causing his own death. Moreover, after years of consciously using and experimenting with magic, a part of his mind was able to instinctively recognize the slowly awakening power in his blood, like how it was able to translate all forms of Greek into English for him.

His xiphos materialized in his hand, the sapphire on its crossguard glowing with a soft sea green light as he kneeled down and laid his palm upon the ground. A dark blue light began to come from his eyes as he turned them to the south, somehow understanding the vibrations in the ground and what they meant.

The ground cracked for meters in every direction as he shot forwards, every window in the motel shattering due to the shockwave that formed as the heightened emotions and the first taste of divine energy supercharged his cells. However, Harry didn't even notice how his speed had doubled, or how a soft, blue glow was traveling down the edge of his blade. His only focus in that moment was the system of caves a few hundred meters away from him, from where he had felt the steps of a heavy, giant monster.

The monster which had taken away his first friend and brother.

With a scream that almost tore his vocal chords, Harry jumped into the air, controlling the air around him to boost himself as he rocketed towards the cliffs. Directing the power inside him he cloaked himself in a swirling storm of lightning, and with a roar akin to the crack of thunder, broke through the rocks in front of him. Punching a large rock into nothing but pebbles and dust, he glared at the cave in front of him, the putrid, horrendous smell of rotten meat and blood as much of a giveaway of the monster's location as the vibrations in the ground were.

Gripping his xiphos tightly, he allowed the lightning around him to spark away into nothingness as the heavy steps of the monster became audible to him, and as the shadows in the cave lit up with a flare of orange… Harry saw the murderer of his best friend.

He saw red.