"Right in one, boy. Quite the sharp eye you have there- what gave it away?"

"The Amygdala is the only one that can stir the blood into a frenzy this quickly. Other than the Brain of Mensis and the Winter Lanterns, of course." Despite his steady voice, Percy was wound tighter than a spring, ready to launch himself at the Great One at any moment. Without a weapon, it would surely be suicide, but that was a slightly more attractive prospect than simply allowing the beast to tear him to shreds.

"Do relax, Jackson," Mr. D said, rolling his eyes. "If I were going to kill you, I would have done it, not dragged you all the way out here."

Percy, obviously, did not relax. As with all the Great Ones, the Amygdala had been a vicious opponent, sending him back to the Dream several times, where he awoke to the gentle ministrations of the Plain Doll. There was no telling how it had changed; the human form could just be the start.

"How did you get here? Are you the only Great One in this world?"

"I have always been here, foolish boy. Did you honestly believe you could truly kill a Great One? We are called immortal for a reason. Although, that is mostly due to our ability to reincarnate, which is what I am- a reincarnation. As for the others… Well, that would be telling. I will say one thing, however; in this life, I am not your enemy, Hunter. If you are going to survive, you must be willing to rely on me, for I am currently the only one who understands your situation, and therefore the only one who knows how to help you integrate into these worlds you now find yourself torn between."

Percy finally stood straight, though more out of confusion than actually trusting Mr. D. "What worlds do you speak of?"

"The mortal world, and the world of gods. You've gotten a taste of the former, when you went to that private academy, but you have yet to be properly introduced to the latter. After all, your father hasn't even claimed you."

"My father? What do you know about my father?"

"I know that, due to the Ancient Laws, it is absolutely impossible for him to have visited you in the mortal world. Now that you're in Camp Half-Blood, you might be able to see him every once in a while, but even then, there is no guarantee. I also happen to know who your father is."

"What? Who!?"

"I won't tell you that - he would be rather cross with me. In this life, he is much more powerful than me, though I think that has always been the case. It would be in poor taste to anger him. No, you'll have to wait until he claims you to know for sure."

"Then… Will you at least tell me if he is a God of the Sea? The water is the only thing in this world that I have felt a connection with, the only thing the arcane energy within me reacts to."

Mr. D raised an eyebrow, marginally astounded. "Well, it seems you are much sharper than I initially believed- though, considering how quickly you uncovered my identity, I suppose I shouldn't be very surprised. Yes, he is a God of the Sea. However, there are many ocean gods out there, any of which could be your father. As I said, you won't know for sure until he claims you."

Percy nodded slowly, his face carefully blank to hide the turmoil in his mind. Apparently, it was no use with Mr. D.

"I said to calm yourself, boy. I can see the insanity building in your eyes."

Blinking, Percy took a deep breath to center himself, then forcefully locked his raging thoughts into a dark recess of his mind to be dealt with later. Mr. D nodded, letting Percy know he had succeeded, and the portly man turned to walk back to the Great House. After a moment of hesitation, Percy followed. He couldn't help but note the irony of his current situation. Before, he had fought the Amygdala to the death, and now, it was helping him? He snorted quietly at how messed up things were. Then again, after having lived through the nightmare that was Yharnam countless times, it would take a lot more than an old enemy-turned-ally to break him.

Dinner was an odd affair. For some reason, the campers had lined up, and were ritualistically sacrificing half their plate of food into the fire. This was probably how communion with the Great Ones had started; simple offerings, in exchange for minor blessings. How it ended, though...

Percy refused to partake in such vile depravity, something which Grover heavily recommended against. Surprisingly, it was Mr. D that spoke up in his defense.

"If the boy wants to eat, let him eat. Not like he'd pray to one of us, anyways."

Grover, and the other campers of the Hermes Cabin, left him alone after that. However, they were noticeably wary of him now, even going so far as to ensure he didn't get a place at their table. Were they worried the gods would strike him down for this perceived insolence? Regardless, Percy just walked over to the next closest table, and sat right down.

"Percy!" Grover cried, drawing attention from the entire pavilion, which had gone rather silent after his refusal. Pausing with his fork halfway to his mouth, Percy looked up at the satyr, who was pale as paper. He wasn't the only one; many of the other campers looked rather fearful. Glancing around, Percy just did not see what the issue was. So, he asked.

"What?"

"Y-you can't s-sit there!"

"...Why?"

"That's Poseidon's table! Only his children are allowed to be there!"

At that moment, a sea-green light tinted his vision. Looking up, Percy found the source to be a holographic trident, which hovered above his forehead for a few moments, before slowly fading out of sight. When Percy looked away from the lightshow, he found that all the campers, who had previously been seated and enjoying their dinners, were now kneeling on the stone floor, heads bowed. Even Chiron was bent at the knee, as best as his horse half could be.

"Hail, Perseus Jackson!" Chiron bellowed, "Son of the Earthshaker, Stormbringer, Father of Horses- the Sea God. Hail, the son of Poseidon!" The campers slammed their fists over their hearts, the hollow thump reverberating through the pavillion.

"...Do I still have to move?"

Moving into the Poseidon Cabin was one of the highlights of these past two days, aside from visits with his mother in the Infirmary. She had finally been released and went home, with the help of Argus, the many-eyed man who drove her out to Manhattan. Unfortunately, that meant going back to Gabe, but Sally was so fiercely independent that she stubbornly refused to accept the Camp's hospitality for much longer after she returned to full health. For all her good points, his mother sometimes did not have the best ideas.

Regardless, Cabin Three managed to take his mind off her. This building had a fairly low roof compared to the other cabins, and far less beds- Percy only saw six. Apparently, even back when Poseidon wasn't bound by the oath (which Percy learned about in the orientation video), he did not have many meetings with mortal women. The sea-green trim and greywood gave the building a rustic feel, and the scent of sea salt embedded in the grain, along with the sea breeze blowing in from the Long Island Sound, truly completed the image. For the first time in a long while, Percy finally allowed himself to relax. Here, he was alone. There were no worries about his close proximity to dozens of other young adults in the Hermes Cabin, no nagging Blonde-Hair, no violent Brown-Hair, no worrying satyr, and most of all, no beasts. He had been unable to relax in Yancy, considering how completely foreign the place was. He was constantly expecting to fall asleep one night, only to wake back up in Yharnam, or the Dream. Ironically enough, though, Percy hasn't had a single dream since he came to this world. It was a blessing, to finally be free of the nightmares.

That didn't mean he was free of the Old Blood, however. There were moments when Percy caught himself flashing back to the gothic streets of Yharnam, breathing heavily as beasts closed in from all sides. The transformed citizens of the city were bearing down upon him with their clubs and torches, their guns and molotovs, all while the Blood Moon hung menacingly above. Watching. Waiting.

Then, the moment would pass, and he would snap back to reality (if this new world was even reality in the first place) to find those in the immediate vicinity staring at the growling, panting boy. Gathering his composure in an instant, he would leave without a word, heading to the beach. The arcane well deep within him shifted with the sea, ebbing and flowing in time with the tide. His breathing would sync up with the rhythm, and for as long as he stood at the edge of the beach, where the land met the water and the world turned blue, he would find true peace.

Then, something would happen- someone would come calling for him, the conch horn sounded for the scheduled meal, or, on one occasion, a bird crapped on his shoulder, and he would snap out of his trance. Still, despite the interruption, Percy couldn't find it in him to be mad. In fact, he couldn't find it in him to feel anything at all. His mind still fixated on the rolling waves, his body would move on autopilot, and carry on through the day.

Friday. Capture the Flag. Percy allied the Poseidon Cabin with the Hermes Cabin, and by extension, the Athena Cabin. Both because he didn't want to be on the same team as Brown-Hair and the Ares Cabin, and because Luke, the leader of his previous cabin, asked him to. Despite only being there for less than a week, Percy felt he owed Luke this much. Besides, it was just a game.

In the Dining Pavilion, after the empty plates were cleared away by the various nymphs, Chiron stamped a hoof against the marble to gain the attention of the chatting campers.

"Heroes!" he boomed, "You know the rules; no maiming or killing! This is a friendly game!" He glared pointedly at the Ares campers, who scowled back. "The creek is the boundary line, and the whole forest is fair game. Remember, the banner must be prominently displayed the whole game, and can have no more than two guards." Here, he fixed a meaningful stare on Blonde-Hair, who looked down with a sheepish blush. Apparently, she'd broken this rule recently. "All magic items are allowed. Prisoners may be disarmed, but not bound or gagged. I will serve as referee and battlefield medic. Now, arm yourselves!"

With a wave of his hands, the dinner tables were littered with weapons, armor, and shields of all kinds. The campers scrambled to pick up their equipment, with Percy the only one left to stare at the remnants. Luke jogged over and clapped him on the shoulder.

"C'mon, Perce, gear up! You can't play Flag without any armor!"

"Armor will just slow me down."

Luke stared at the shorter boy for a long moment, before conceding the point. "I mean, if that's what you want. You gotta at least grab a weapon, though."

Percy nodded slowly, eyeing the blades covering the Poseidon table. Finally, he reached out to a two-handed bastard sword with a five-foot long blade. Weighing it carefully, he found he was barely able to hold it in one hand- just enough to swing it around with a halfway-decent amount of control. At the very least, he would be able to adjust his course mid-swing to avoid a vital spot. Performing a few test waves, Percy deemed the weapon passable, and dropped the sword to his side, where the blade dragged against the marble.

"Uh, Percy, you sure you don't wanna grab something a little more… Usable?"

"Trick weapons are rarely designed with speed in mind."

"...What?"

"I will manage." Percy walked away, wearing only his jeans, tattered navy-blue sweater, and ratty Converse sneakers, the bastard sword sparking on the stone below him.

"Um… Okay?"

It seemed the Athena Cabin was only allied with Apollo and Hermes. As to be expected, the Apollo campers alternated between long-range support and battlefield medics, while the Hermes campers were a bit more diverse. Scouts, close-range, trappers, distractions, and more. It was as if they were putting the "all trades" part of their patron's title to the test. Of course, the strategizing was left to the Athena Cabin, led by Blonde-Hair. Otherwise, they mostly stuck to close-range combat.

This all meant Percy would be facing the combined might of the Dionysus, Demeter, Hephaestus, Ares, and Aphrodite cabins. Each was few in numbers, but together, they would likely be a formidable force, with a wide range of skills. Well, maybe not the Aphrodite campers, but the point still stood.

Once more, Luke approached Percy. "Hey, man. You sure you don't want any armor? It's not too late, Chiron pointed out a set that might fit you."

"I am fine. More importantly, what is expected of me?"

"Ah… I think Annabeth said you're on border patrol? Sorry, I wasn't really paying attention to the joblist, since I was trying to control my little brothers." He gestured to the equally-impish twins, Travis and Connor Stoll, who were grinning like they'd just pulled off a heist. Almost unconsciously, Percy patted his jean pockets, despite knowing there was nothing in them in the first place. Even though he'd only been in that cabin for a few days, the Stoll twins had made their talents very well-known to the newbie. Luke saw the instinctual reaction and chuckled. "Yeah, they get a bit rowdy sometimes. Anyways, you probably don't even know what border patrol is! Sorry. All you gotta do is stand by the creek, and stop any enemies from crossing over to their side. You can tell who's who by the color of the plume on their helmet; we're blue, Ares is red. Speaking of which, you aren't wearing a helmet."

"Wearing a helmet was not in the rules that Chiron listed. I believe it is more of a guideline."

Luke blinked. "...Well, when you put it like that, then I guess you're right. Eh, it'll just make it harder on the other team. Everyone here knows who you are and what you look like, so it should be fine. Then again, the other team probably would, too; the only Son of Poseidon, as well as the only kid playing the game without any armor? Yeah, it's kinda obvious who you are."

Percy nodded, and began walking in the direction the blond pointed him.

This task seems rather… Bland. The importance of it can be debated, though I doubt it is truly necessary. After all, with an entire creek as the boundary, an enemy can simply sneak past me by going around. There is no way we have enough people to create a tight net that will catch all enemies, so this job seems rather arbitrary. Then again, I have just arrived here less than a week ago. It is expected that they would give me such menial work, to determine my usefulness. Still, this is rather annoying.

While Percy continued to ponder the worthlessness of his current post, he heard a branch snap from within the bushes in front of him. Switching his focus from his thoughts to the outside world, Percy glanced around, seeing nobody in the immediate vicinity. However, that changed when a troupe of enemies burst from the foliage, screaming bloody war cries, weapons held high over their heads.

Six in total, seemingly led by Brown-Hair, who was wielding a lengthy spear. The metal tip crackled, indicating that it was charged with electricity. Was Bolt Paper a thing in this world? That would be useful.

"Cream the punk!" Brown-Hair roard, her deep voice bouncing through the forest. Immediately, the six moved to surround him in a circles. Two charged him from the front. Grunt 1 stabbed high with his spear, while Grunt 2 swung low with her sword. Percy planted the bastard sword into the ground, deflecting the blade, while ducking under the spear. With the weapon still extended, Percy grabbed the shaft, yanking Grunt 1 forward to plant a fist in their stomach with so much force that an imprint was left in the hardened leather.

Percy was a bit confused; he knew, logically, that as a demigod, he was much stronger than a normal mortal. As a Son of Poseidon, one of the Big Three, that effect was likely compounded. However, he did not think it would that drastic, especially not with such a small body, disregarding the training he had done before coming to Camp Half-Blood. Then, he realized something; his blood was singing. This only happened when he was drenched in blood, the constant flow of crimson sinking into his skin repeatedly revitalizing him.

He couldn't feel the sticky ichor on his body, but he could feel the cold chill of the river water sinking into his sneakers. He had stepped into the creek at some point. Percy concluded that, due to his status as the Son of Poseidon, the water was giving him strength. It seemed like he was also much more perceptive, much to the frustration of Grunt 3, who attempted to attack from behind.

Percy gripped the handle of the bastard sword, ripping it from the ground and parrying Grunt 3's double-handed overhead sword swing in one smooth motion, knocking their weapon off course. It slammed into the water, and a moment later, the hilt of Percy's sword slammed into Grunt 3's head. They fell to the ground at the same time as Grunt 1, who had remained standing for a moment, hunched over, spewing their dinner into the creek.

Grunt 4 was hesitant to approach, but Grunt 2 seemed miffed at being blocked so casually, then ignored. She let loose another battle cry, then attempted a wide swing, her aim to bisect him at the waist. Percy slammed his blade down onto hers, his increased strength and the weight of the bastard sword sending her weapon straight into the pebbles and dirt that made up the floor of the creek. A high-kick straight to the chest nearly imploded their diaphragm, and Grunt 2 staggered back, struggling to breathe. As the battle continued, she would eventually lose the battle with oxygen-deprivation, blacking out and slumping to the dirt on the bank of the creek.

Finally, Grunts 4 and 5 seemed to gather their nerve. They both rushed forward with swords, slashing at him from opposite directions. Percy rolled forward to stand in the space between the two of them, smirking a bit when their blades collided with the other. An uppercut to Grunt 4's chin knocked them out instantly, while Grunt 5 got a nice knee to the dick. He collapsed, cheeks puffed out and hands cupping his groin. After a moment, his eyes rolled up into his head, and he let out a wheezing breath, ominously similar to the death rattles of the Beasts of Yharnam.

Brown-Hair was the only one left, brandishing her electrified spear, but seemingly hesitant to approach. She adjusted her grip on the wooden haft, intensifying her glare.

"You little punk!" she seethed, still not making any move to approach. Percy hefted his bastard sword, laying the blade flat against his shoulder.

"Care to try your hand? If I remember correctly, it did not end well for you last time," Percy goaded. He was rewarded by Brown-Hair screaming in fury, jumping forward to jab at his torso. Percy sidestepped, then swung his bastard sword down, the movement sped up by his boost from the water. The blade cleaved clean through the shaft, and Brown-Hair was left staring at a glorified stick.

"You-!"

She was interrupted by a fist to the temple. Percy ignored the metal that bit into his knuckles, too satisfied by the ringing of bronze through the clearing as Brown-Hair dropped, unconscious. Percy stabbed his massive blade into the riverbed, and simply surveyed his work, massaging the back of his hand.

"You can come out now."

Blonde-Hair- Annabeth- appeared from thin air. "How'd you know I was here?"

"I can sense the arcane energies of your… Hat."

Annabeth slapped her Yankees cap against her thigh. "What? How?"

Percy stayed silent. In truth, he didn't really know why. Perhaps it was due to his dealings with the Great Ones? Constant contact with them would likely make anyone sensitive to the essence of the Cosmos.

Annabeth snarled at his avoidance. "You are the single most infuriating person I know, and you've only been here for a week!"

"I do my best," Percy muttered, attention drawn by a sudden pool of arcane energy appearing. It felt… Familiar. Similar to the dark, overbearing presence of the Nightmare of Mensis, but less concentrated, weaker.

Moments later, Luke appeared from the forest, sprinting like a madman. He was pursued by a squad of people wearing red-plumed helmets, but Hermes was known as the fastest god on Olympus for a reason. Luke was at least twenty steps ahead of them, and by the time the red team reached the river bank, Luke was already across. Cheering ensued, and members of the blue team swarmed Luke, hoisting him up onto their shoulders.

Beside him, Annabeth smirked. "Come on, Jackson. Let's go celebrate."

Percy ignored her. He was straining his senses, doing his best to block out the noise of the other demigods. He stared off into the black forest, eyes boring holes through the shade. Suddenly, two crimson lights appeared, staring right back at him.

Annabeth had been shoving Percy's shoulder, when he shoved back, hard. She stumbled back a good five steps, crying out indignantly. Percy barely had time to wrench his bastard sword out of the ground before a massive beast, a dog with fur the color of the blackest night, leaped out of the brush. Percy rolled to the left, avoiding the gargantuan paws that threatened to kill him from sheer size alone, then swung up with his blade, decapitating the monster in one fell swoop. Without so much as a whimper, the beast melted into shadows, leaking into the ground.

Percy stood to his feet, noticing how quiet the forest was now. He turned to Annabeth, whose eyes were blown wide open in shock. "That beast- what was it?"

"T-that was a hellhound! Those aren't supposed to be able to get into Camp!"

"If it can't get into the camp on its own, then it must have been aided, somehow. Summoned?"

"I, maybe? It is possible to summon monsters, but why-?"

"Has something like this happened before?" Percy asked. Annabeth shook her head, blond curls flying wildly. Percy planted his sword into the ground beneath his spread feet, resting his hands on the pommel like a paladin of old.

"For it to occur the same day I was claimed, mere hours afterwards...Perhaps this was an indirect attempt to strike at Poseidon. Which gods hold grudges against my father?"

"Well, off the top of my head, there's my mother, Hades, and Zeus. My mother wouldn't do something so irrational, but Hades and Zeus would definitely not be happy that Poseidon broke the Oath, so they'd probably try to kill you."

"That explains the Fury, and the lightning bolt that struck the car on our way here. The hellhound, it was a beast of darkness. Would it be safe to assume that Hades had a hand in this specific attack?"

"Y-yeah, I think so. Hades is the only god that can command the hellhounds- they're from the Fields of Punishment, which is part of his domain."

Percy hummed, intrigued. "So, it seems both of my Uncles have failed to kill me. It is almost guaranteed that they will try again, isn't it? I don't expect millenia-old beings to give up on their pursuits that easily- their tenacity is to be admired, at the very least."

"...Is this really the time to be complimenting them?"

"Respect will be given where respect is due."

"Well, I don't think anyone could really blame you if you were a little lacking in respect right now."

Percy finally turned his head to face Annabeth, taking his eyes off the spot where the hellhound expired. His face was serenely blank. "My Uncles have acknowledged that I am valuable enough to be worth killing, and with that acknowledgment comes a certain level of respect- that which is between foes. It would be more rude to not respond in kind."

"An odd outlook, Mr. Jackson," Chiron said, clopping up to the two preteens. "Though, you are certainly not wrong. If there was not some amount of respect between enemies, then battle would be nothing but killing for the sake of killing. I'd like to think that most of us are above such depravity."

Percy nodded at Chiron in greeting. Annabeth seemed lost in thought.

"Well, I do think that's enough excitement for tonight," Chiron said, raising his voice so all the gather campers could hear him. "Congratulations to the blue team and the Hermes Cabin for claiming victory tonight! And now, let us call it a day."