I jump off my fellow campers in an instant. The creature with a lion's mane stands menacingly at the edge of the creek. What I mistook to be a mane is actually a wreath of deathly white feathers. The animal has the head of a bald eagle, oversized falcon wings, and where it's supposed to have front legs it has large orange talons. The look of shock from everyone around me tells me they have never seen such a thing before. Only Chiron has a slightly different expression, one of disturbing recognition. Realizing I have my combat gloves on, I will them into gauntlet form and proceed to charge.

This Egyptian griffin stands as still as a tree. Suddenly realizing someone is approaching, it dodges my punch. Switching plans, I put away my gauntlets, stand back, assert my ground, and pull out my crossbow. I pull out the magazine in my back pocket holding the Celestial Bronze arrows and load it in. In a span of about four seconds, I nock and fire off ten arrows.

The other campers try to attack the creature, but nothing works. Will's ukelele and Gordon's spear bounce harmlessly off the creature's back. The griffin swipes at Horatio, sending him flying into a tree. Another swipe to Whitney and she tumbles backward into the flag-holding Aphrodite camper. Only my arrows had any effect on the griffin, but clearly it was doing not much at all. Straining to remember what Sadie used to cast off the serpopard, I call out whatever comes to mind.

"Ha-di!"

Instantly, a hieroglyph appears in the air. It takes the shape of a long reaping blade, like a scythe. It slices into the griffin, and in an underwhelming show of force, disappears.

Chiron finally recovers his wits and clops towards me.

"You never told me you're a Magician," he says.

"I am no such thing," I answer. "My father is. He is Boris Romanchuk."

"You're Blood of the Pharaohs as well," Chiron remarks. He truly is a wily old centaur. "Why had I not realize this before? I'm sorry, child, I cannot keep you safe anywhere, it appears. That Egyptian griffin can breach Greek magical barriers as though it doesn't exist. However, I do advise you to say here at camp. Here, you're at least safe from Greek monsters."

Suddenly, two bright light flashes behind Chiron. Dionysus and Apollo emerge from the light. Everyone takes a bow before either god says a word.

"Arthur Romanchuk, you are needed on Mount Olympus," Apollo begins. "Lord Zeus wants to have a word with you. I advise you to try and think of us in only the Greek aspect. It does not hurt me much, but after hearing Dionysus's story, I believe it can be much worse."

With that being said, both gods grab me, and we all flash away in a hazy light.

Mount Olympus is a grand sight indeed. The marble edifices and surprisingly sleek and modern architecture impressed me thoroughly. Despite being thousands of years old, these gods really can move with the times. Then, I remembered that someone named Annabeth Chase had designed these new buildings. I hope to meet her and learn her excellent architectural ways. Being a polymath has always involved learning so many unrelated things, and I intend to be both an excellent combat engineer as well as an architect. Nymphs and other minor immortals bustle about the busy city square. Off to the side of the one of the small marketplace stalls lies elevator doors labeled 600. I don't know what building could possibly have 600th floor, but clearly these gods do.

"I see that you admire the architecture," Apollo suddenly says. "Annabeth Chase, that upstart. She defeated Kronos along with her boyfriend, who is quite possibly my favorite cousin. She recovered her mother's statue when many of her siblings couldn't. Then, unbelievably, she and the boyfriend manage to survive the depths of Tartarus. She did an excellent job with these buildings indeed. Now she's some big-shot architect in the mortal world, working with clients like Bill Gates, who she doesn't even know is her older brother!"

"Wait, Percy Jackson is her boyfriend?" I question.

"They're old news here on Olympus," Apollo answers. "I know what you may be thinking: what about Poseidon and Athena? Don't they hate each other? Well, they finally set aside their differences for once. These two are some of the most powerful demigods we've ever seen. Percy is certainly the most powerful of the century, although from what I've seen, he may be showing his age."

I feel super uneasy at this notion. How could I, a puny twelve-year-old, hope to compare to a demigod like Percy? I'm not even a demigod! Then again, Percy likely hasn't dealt with both Greeks and Egyptians.

"Did I mention that Percy is the first Greek demigod in centuries to host an Egyptian god?"

Nevermind. I was wrong.

"Still, what do you see in me that could make me even hope to challenge the guy?" I spit out. "This guy saved your home twice in a span of two years. I'm just some prepubescent kid who started fighting monsters this Tuesday! And, I have at least twice as many ways to get killed before I do anything interesting."

"Don't sell yourself short, kid," Dionysus interjects. "Somehow, you have the ability to subdue us gods. That prophecy has everyone nervous. Only time can tell what can be said."

The three of us reach the center of the city square. A circle of giant thrones appears before me. Twenty-feet tall humanoids sit in these massive chairs. On the other side of the circle sits a middle-aged man in a pinstriped suit. His black hair is long and a bit messy, as though he hadn't combed this morning. His blue eyes are piercing and the color of the sky. In his left hand, he holds a large bronze lightning bolt. Zeus. Holding his other hand is Hera, a middle-aged lady with a serious demeanor.

Beside Zeus and on his left sits a man of similar age in a fishing shirt and cargo shorts. His sea-green eyes seem to flicker like the Sun does on water. His beard is wild but well-trimmed. Poseidon.

I mentally check off the list of Olympians in my head: auburn-haired, silver-eyed Artemis, her skin glowing like moonlight; a young girl with a fiery aura, the calming and warm Hestia; a beautiful blonde lady, her looks so amazing I feel myself blush, plucks at her perfect eyelashes, the goddess Aphrodite; a lame, stone-faced man, his oil-slicked shirt like a mechanic, the god Hephaestus; Athena, who I have already seen a statue of; a muscly army sergeant I presume to be Ares; a sandy-haired delivery guy in a track outfit, Hermes; and Demeter, a blonde woman in a green dress holding a box of Cheerios.

After Apollo and Dionysus take their seats, I bow before the gods. I then notice one of the thrones is conspicuously empty. It is dark obsidian in color and as smooth and glassy as the stone. I realize who would normally sit there: Hades.

"Lord Zeus, it is an honor to meet you," I begin. "May I ask why I am here today?"

Zeus looks at me with a neutral facial expression, though his eyes said otherwise.

"Arthur Romanchuk, your politeness truly impresses me," Zeus begins. "It has been years since someone so humble graces my ears. However, it has come to my attention that somehow, you're causing serious trouble in the world of gods.

"You have been observed being attacked by both Greek and Egyptian monsters. Even though I have seen many demigods with hard lives, not even I can wish such a clash on any mortal myself. This mixing of pantheons is quite alarming, and all sources trace back to you."

I try to fathom what is being said. I am the cause of a worldwide fiasco?

"Lord Zeus, I do not understand," I reply. " I have spent the first eleven, almost twelve years of my life in relative peace. I did not know my parents have godly affiliations to them. I don't know how I am affecting your world, but I truly apologize for anything I have done."

"Perhaps that upstart Percy Jackson can learn a thing or two from you," Zeus muses. "The guy has certainly grown a bigger head since he saved this place twice, however oblivious he is to that. However, I can't say you yourself have done anything wrong. I am here to discuss with you the recent Great Prophecy.

"Never before has three Great Prophecies been fulfilled in the same century, much less in the span of less than a decade. The first two have been known for millennia, but it took until the twenty-first century CE until they were fulfilled. Now, we have been issued with the first new prophecy since the Trojan War. Hermes, bring forth the Oracle of Delphi."

A moment later, a young redheaded woman walks into the throne circle. Her hair is frizzy and explodes from her head in all directions. Her eyes are a piercing emerald green. Her face is dotted with a multitude of freckles. She is slim, tall, and appears about ten years older than me.

"Hello, Arthur," she says to me. "I am Rachel Elizabeth Dare, the Oracle of Delphi. Please ask your question."

"What is the Great Prophecy?" I immediately blurted out.

Suddenly, Rachel jerks erect, her back stiff and straight like a soldier standing at attention. In a voice that certainly isn't the sweet, sultry sound I heard a moment before, lines of a poem most cryptic blare off for all to hear:

Immortal consequences for many mortals' sin,
A trial for the one and many next of kin.
One child emerges from bloodlines uncertain,
Who dares to cover the world like an untamable curtain.
Co-dominions and pantheons clash as one immortal flame,
And in the end, only one shall seal the blame.

A deafening silence permeates the room. Rachel collapses before me, and Hermes carries her back off to wherever she came from. The third line really has me worried. I have to be the child of the uncertain blood, right? However, the rest is a cryptic mess my English teacher, Mrs. Guillot, would have loved to over-analyze to shreds. The gods look upon me with what passes for sympathy.

"If that had you worried, don't be," Hestia says. "These prophecies have an endless number of meanings. However, none from the Oracle of Delphi had ever been that vague. It's more like one from the Grove of Dodona."

"Aunt Hestia," Apollo responds. "We can theorize endlessly about what could rise to such a prophecy, but we have more pressing matters at hand. Uncle Hades is in serious danger."

"Yes, that is the other reason we need you here, Arthur," Zeus interjects. "My brother has been reporting a strange chasm that has formed in the middle of the Underworld. For now, he has closed off the Underworld for living visitors until June. One worrying sign is the emergence of griffins and other classically Egyptian monsters from this chasm. So far, his army has been able to hold them at bay, but it will only be a matter of time before he is overrun. We will need you to pay a visit to him as soon as the June deadline passes. For now, stay at Camp Half-Blood. We can at least keep you partially safe there. Tomorrow, I shall convene with Horus at the Neutral Zone. Until then, take care, Humble One."

In a dramatic flash of lightning, Zeus and Hera flash out of the room. The other gods take one more look at me, then flash out without a word. All of them, except for Ares.

"Well, punk, I think old Sun-Boy and Pinecone-Staff have probably told you about how gods sense descendants," Ares begins. "Well, let's see if you're man enough to be my legacy. You were so meek to apologize, I would have sworn you're a girl."

"Well, how bad could this be?" I interject. "I can give you a migraine right this moment."

"How so?" Ares spits back. "You dare bash the God of War's head in?"

"No, Lord Ares, or should I say, Lord Mars?"

Instantly, his figure begins to flicker. However, instead of being in agony, Ares abruptly shrinks to the size of 6'3". His figure splits in two, and before me stand two different beings. One is Ares as he appears before. The other is a man of similar appearance but wearing a United States Marines uniform. Over this uniform is a purple Roman toga. Neither appears to be suffering a headache at this very moment.

"Very well, young Arthur," the Roman American, Mars, says. "You have finally freed me from that idiot for a bit."

"Watch your mouth, Mars," Ares snorts. "We are the same person, you and I."

"I do not condone unnecessary bloodshed. You ought to remember that we were once two different gods. War is a means to an end, not a sadistic bout of indulgence. I will leave you to your petty hazing. I refuse to believe this child has your blood as well as mine running through his veins."

With those words, Mars and Ares fuse once more, settling on his Greek aspect. Ares conjures up a large wooden table with a stool at either end.

"Well, punk, here's a good old-fashioned round of arm wrestling. Sit down and let us begin."

Hesitantly, I sit on my side and grab the man's giant right hand. As soon as I make good contact, I feel him begin to push on my unprepared arm. Quickly, I recollect my wits and push back.

I want to say it was over in a mere moment, but it was much, much shorter. I instantly turn the tide and slam Lord Ares's arm into the other side. He looks at me not with contempt, but immense surprise.

"A legacy of Kratos as well as me, young lad?" he muses. "I can't think of a better combination! You are more than worthy of being my son, much less my legacy. I assume you need a way back to Camp. Here, son."

He places one hand on my right shoulder. We both flash out. Once I can see again, I am standing in front of the Ares Cabin, rather than the Hermes. Not questioning why nor where did Ares go, I run off to the sword-fighting area to start my day's training.