Here we go, Chapter 5. You probably didn't expect me to publish this this early, and quite frankly, I didn't either, but support in the last chapter was insane. We got almost 1000 people reading the chapter in like six hours. If you're an experienced writer, that'll probably be a laughble statistic, but for that many people to be intently following this story is mind-blowing to me. I'm still studying, but I just had to write this, I got too excited. Sorry if the next one doeasn't come out this soon.

So we back, and this one is a cool one in my opinion. Lots of stuff revealed, so pay attention to details. Also will leave some unanswered questions, so send me a review saying what your theories are. Enjoy!

A week later

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Splinters of wood flew into the air as the blade bit into the post, the strength behind the blows shaking and making it groan. Percy's muscles burned, but he didn't slow his attacks.

Overhand slash.

Spin.

Strike.

One moment he saw a hellhound, but as he struck at his maw, Riptide met the post in a thundering collision.

Then Kelli stood in front of him, fangs bared.

Slam.

The sky turned blood red, then blue. For a moment, the closed Doors were at his back again. He was trapped.

Three fast strikes to the head, then a low spinning one and move to the side.

The Arai bared her teeth at him. She lost her head.

The crowds jeered, and he put everything he could behind his sword.

Finally, Percy spun on his heel, bending his knees as he did and coiling up, his sword arm tight with his body. When he saw the post again out of the corner of his eye, he exploded with a yell, swinging Riptide in an upwards diagonal arc. The blade cut straight through the post, thirty centimetres of heavy wood and a reinforced core snapping like a twig. It was the fourth in two days.

Percy crouched down to the ground, sticking Riptide point-first into the ground and breathing heavily. It was early in the morning, so it wasn't too cold, but Percy was shirtless and covered in sweat, his muscles aching and protesting. He had started training as soon as he had been able to, and it was the only thing keeping him sane. As well as Annabeth, of course. She was helping.

Percy looked at the broken post, and sighed. There was only one left. He had gotten strong in Tartarus, but he had also discovered a new ability of his. He had learnt to focus on what little and unnatural water there was down there, and draw strength from it. He could increase his strength and speed, as well as his reflexes using the water that surrounded him, even the moisture in the air. It was natural for him now, and he almost automatically strengthened himself when he fought. He could even make his skin harder, to the point where he could bounce off a sword or an arrow if there was enough water. He'd discovered that one in unfortunate circumstances.

He sprung up and sheathed Riptide. Now that he had come back, Percy had become a shower addict. Seeing as he didn't really want to leave the house, showering was the only option to surround himself with water, and after being away from it for so much time, he simply couldn't get enough of it.

The living room was cool and soothing, another thing that, while relaxing, seemed strange to him now. Down there, it had been hot, always hot. It was uncomfortable, and it kept you on edge. Here, the cold threatened to calm you, and Percy half expected to be attacked if he lowered his guard. He knew he was being paranoid, but kept Riptide curled around his hand.

Annabeth had left to meet up with some of the centurions for what sounded like a very official meeting, which gave him a good hour before she came back. Walking through the house, he spotted his other sword stood in a corner, sheathed but almost glinting in anticipation to be used again. Percy thought back to the amount of times that thing had saved his life. Too many. The monsters in the pit eventually started calling it Gurthang, which in their language, meant 'Iron of Death'. It was pretty fitting, actually. The thing had probably killed more monsters than any other sword in existence.

Percy kept walking, passing the kitchen and bedroom (where only one bed had been used) and stepped inside the bathroom. It was the biggest in the house, with tiled floors and a small window at the end. It still seemed surreal to Percy. He still woke up or walked into a room and thought 'What the hell am I doing here?' Everything was peaceful and quiet, and there were no monsters trying to kill him.

It was starting to freak Percy out.

At this point, the only thing he really understood was fighting. He felt comfortable and confident, and he knew exactly what to do and expect. But a relaxed life? It still seemed fake to him, like a fantasy that had been created to trap him and neutralise him, and he wouldn't be taken prisoner again. Ever. He rubbed the deep scars around his wrists, the stinging pain still vivid and real. The only thing that kept Percy from snapping was Annabeth.

One way or another, she would always end up in his mind. The blonde, grey-eyed daughter of Athena. The girl he had fallen in love with as soon as he saw her. Did he love her now? It was what most troubled him; not being chased by monsters or another war, but not being able to love Annabeth as she wanted. A place in his heart still burned with desire and love for her, but they had spent ten years apart. He had done things, sometimes to survive, sometimes not… Annabeth would hate him if she found out, and it would break her.

He tried to shake this out of his head as he stepped out of the shower and looked in the mirror. He had never seen what looked like after he fell, only bad images of his face reflected on his sword, but he almost didn't recognise himself. In the Pit, it had been a constant life of action. Running, climbing, fighting. His body rippled with muscle, veins visible all over his arms and chest due to the lack of fat. Drakon meat and burning water didn't exactly fatten you up. He remembered each one of his scars. The manacles around his wrists. Whip lashes on his back. Arrows in his leg. The titan's sword across his chest. The knife down the side of his face. It was like they happened yesterday, every fight and torture coming back in the late hours of night, when he would wake up screaming and yelling.

His tattoo was vivid on his right forearm, it looked even darker when he was out of Tartarus. It was a long black pole, running from the base of his palm to the inside joint of his elbow. A snake was curled around it all the way to the top, where it had its mouth wide open. For a tattoo given to him, by the Lord of Darkness himself, he guessed it was pretty cool. Besides, his SPQR one…

'Don't think about it', Percy said to himself. 'It'll make the pain come back.'

He stepped closer to the mirror, rubbing his beard as he did so. He had tried cutting it down there, but it was almost ten centimetres long now, and he was sick of it. It itched like crazy, and beads of sweat ran down his face and neck often. It had been the same in Tartarus, but there he couldn't do anything about it. Percy grabbed a razor from the top drawer, and looked at himself in the mirror one last time. He wouldn't miss this look.

—

Annabeth walked tentatively into the living room, breathing out a sigh of relief when she found it empty. Percy must have been in the shower, or eating in the kitchen. She had a little surprise for him, and she didn't really know how he would react.

Suddenly, she heard a door creak and whipped around, and she was met with an amazing sight. It was Percy. His beard was gone, maybe only a couple of millimetres left, and he had cut his hair as well. He looked so similar to Poseidon it was eerie. All he needed was a Hawaiian shirt and the two would be a mirror image. With almost all of his facial hair gone, his scar stood out more than ever, pulsating a bright and vicious red, but Annabeth ignored it.

She cracked a huge grin and walked over to him. 'Did you do something with your hair?'

He smiled back, not fully, but enough for Annabeth. 'I did, actually. You like it?'

'It's great. You look really good. Not that you didn't with the huge beard, but…' Percy chuckled slightly, and Annabeth felt her heart warm up. 'Anyway, I brought you something.'

When she said that, Annabeth saw Percy's eyes widen slightly, then narrowed to slits, and she eyed her carefully. She had expected him to react like this, but she at least had to try.

'Hey, I swear you'll like it. Trust me.'

Percy nodded, and slowly stared following Annabeth through the living room, heading towards the courtyard. She reached back and squeezed his hand, which he returned tentatively. She decided not to give this too much thought. He was still recovering.

They stepped outside, and she saw Percy scan the area for a moment, until his eyes locked onto something. In the corner of the sandy rectangle was a figure. He was tall, with pale skin and black hair, wearing an equally black t-shirt and leather jacket. His combat boots were steel-tipped, and a large ring adorned his finger.

'Nico?' Percy's voice was low, but the figure's head snapped up, before a wide smile appeared on his face. He walked towards them, and Annabeth couldn't help but notice that he didn't have a single bead of sweat on his face.

'Hey, cuz', said Nico di Angelo. 'The pit finally spat you out?'

They hugged, and even if it was brief, Annabeth was slightly surprised. Nico, in general, despised physical contact, and Percy… Well, he wasn't the most affectionate since he came out of the Pit. She shook head hear, trying to clear her mind. This wasn't about her. She had to stop being selfish, and focus on helping Percy.

When they separated, Nico help his cousin at arm's length and smiled at him. It was amazing how much he had grown over the years. It was getting more difficult to see the scared little boy they had rescued from Westover Hall. 'It's great to see you, man. We all really missed you, you know that?'

Percy had a clouded look in his eyes for a second, but managed to smile slightly at Nico. 'Thanks.'

Nico looked at Annabeth, and she nodded. 'So, I was thinking… You feel like having some coffee?'

If it wasn't such an important step for Percy, Annabeth would have laughed at the dismayed look on his face. 'Coffee? Where?'

Nico smiled. 'In a place where they serve it. Which is not inside this house.' He stopped, looking at Percy with questioning eyes. 'Come on. I tried shutting myself off, believe me. It doesn't work. Come have some coffee with us.'

'Us being who?'

'Me, Annabeth… maybe Jason or Reyna. You've already seen them, haven't you? They'll be no need for awkward greetings, then.'

Percy was silent, and he looked down at the ground, before looking at Annabeth in the eyes. His green eyes were intense and bright, and she felt a feeling run through her, something she hadn't felt since the Giant War. Percy turned to Nico, and nodded once.

'I'll go.'

So now they found themselves in a shop, Percy and Annabeth on one side of the booth, and Nico and Jason on the other, all four with mugs in front of them. The latter did the most of the talking, and Percy just listened and avoided the gazes of the people in the shop. He reminded her of a wounded animal. As for Annabeth, Percy had grabbed hold of her hand some minutes ago. She didn't really know how it had happened, but she did remember the jumping feeling in her heart when he had.

Jason looked happy and energetic, as he often did, and rambled on about everything that had happened in New Rome in the last few years. Percy joined in with a laugh on two every so often, but the look on his face broke her heart. They had had 10 years of peace, and Percy had sacrificed himself for it. If he hadn't closed the doors on the inside, Gaia would have won, and the shop they were in right now would probably be gone. She couldn't begin to think what he was feeling. She just held on to him tighter.

They paid and got out pretty quickly, and began walking down a street, which Annabeth had made sure wasn't too busy. It wasn't too narrow, but not too wide either, with big sidewalks and benches along the sides. She saw a pile of amphoras stacked against a wall in the shade, with faded designs that showed crashing waves and monsters.

'So, how did you like the house?' Asked Jason, looking at Percy with his arms crossed as they walked.

Percy looked up and cracked a slight smile. 'You know, compared to the real estate down there, you guys can build.' Annabeth saw a bright look in Jason's eyes as he saw his cousin liven up for the first time. 'It's pretty cool.'

'Isn't it? It was built just after-'

Percy moved faster than her eyes could track him. He lurched forward and his hand shot out. He caught the arrow and stopped it in place, the barbed point maybe an inch from Jason's ear. The palm of his hand had been split open by the arrowhead and blood was inching down his forearm, but his eyes were wide and alert, and he had already adopted a slightly crouching position, his eyes fixated on the stop the arrow had come from. Nico had a horrified look on his face, and kept looking at Jason's ear, and how close the arrow had gotten.

'Oh, shit.'

—

The praetorium was a dimly lit room, and the centurions all cast long shadows as they stood around a large wooden table, many pacing nervously, many with hands on the hilt of their swords. Renya and Michael were at the head of the table, and Jason at their right. Annabeth, Percy and Nico had been asked to come, being the witnesses of the attack.

'Are you sure?'

'That's a dumb question, Velazquez', snapped Nico. 'He stopped a thing maybe two inches away from his head. It would have ran him through.'

Michael nodded. 'Of the intention of the attack we have no doubt. They wanted to kill Jason, and they would have. We were lucky Percy was there.'

Larry leaned forward, his knuckles pressed against the wood. 'We have been at peace for ten years. Disturbances and discontent are down to a minimum, and Jason has done nothing but help demigods and elevate this camp. Who would want to kill him?'

The Centurion of the Second, a young nineteen year-old called Blake, spoke up. 'What about the legacies in the city? What discontent there has been was caused by them. They have experienced the mortal world for some time, some longer than they have the godly. Maybe some of them don't like how much attention Jason gives to godly affairs?'

Velazquez, who was the Centurion of the Fourth, narrowed his eyes. 'I mean, it's not impossible. I've seen some protests about the lack of attention we give the city.'

Reyna didn't look convinced, but nodded. 'It could make sense. The arrow looked hastily made, with the fletching badly done and the barbed point. Maybe someone in the city-'

'No.' The room fell silent everybody turning to look at the figure who had spoken, who was sitting on the stairs in the entrance of the room, his elbows on his knees and his face dark. 'That arrow was made by monsters. Fired by one too.'

Jason turned to him slowly. 'Percy, are you-'

'Yes Jason, I'm sure. I was shot enough times down there to recognise them. No one in your city tried to kill you. This was a move by the enemy to weaken Rome, to make it an easier target.'

'A target?'

Annabeth was sitting next to Percy, and she nodded. 'We already suspected the attack on Phoenix was not just a random attack. The monsters were organised, trying to work together. This just makes me more sure of it.'

Michael took a step forward. 'So what are you saying?'

Annabeth took a deep breath. 'We need to go back to Camp Half-Blood, and you need to prepare. The enemy has returned.'

—

Rachel ran down the corridor, which was dark and gloomy, with a rusty metal torch jutting out of the stone every few metres. The floor, same as the wall, was made of old stone bricks, many cracked and gone, with mosses and small plant growing between them. The stench was even more apparent to her now, like there was a rotting mass grave waiting for her at the end.

The sounds also stared to intensify, from the occasional low growl or screech to an ear-splitting orchestra of roars and bellows. It was deafening, but it told her she was getting closer, and she needed to. This was the closest anybody had gotten in a week before they were stopped. For the sake of her friends and the camp, she had to succeed.

Finally, the tunnel started to widen, and she slowed down from the sprint she had been keeping up for almost half an hour down the long tunnel. Her breathing was calm and steady as she carefully walked into a room with high ceilings. She scanned it, and breathed out a sigh of relief. At the end of the room, she could see a large wooden door, and two armed guards stood post on either side. They looked to be mortal.

She walked to the doors with confidence. Once she got close enough, she studied their faces with interest. They must have not been older than thirty, and they were big and burly, undoubtedly trained to be lethal in combat. Or as lethal as a mortal could hope to be. She desperately needed to get inside those doors, but she could sense powerful magic protecting them, and the guards didn't look like they would leave anytime soon. However, that wouldn't be a problem. Even here, Rachel Elizabeth Dare was very powerful.

She stepped forward and snapped her fingers. With a loud hiss, green mist rose from her hand, flowing out of her like a river. It curled around her feet, slowly taking the form of a massive green snake, that bared its fangs at the guards and looked at her master for permission. Rachel nodded, and the snake split in two, each half going for the neck of one guard. The mortals gasped, and started stumbling forward, rapidly heading towards the entrance of an adjacent room, where they promptly collapsed. The snakes rapidly shut the door of the room with the unconscious guards, and launched themselves at the door, travelling in and out of the large iron lock. After a few seconds, a small click was heard, and Rachel felt the magic protecting the door disappear. Using this window, she walked forward, passing straight through the thick wood.

'Lock it again', she whispered to her two reptiles. 'We don't want anyone to find out.'

The room behind the door was massive. Like football stadium massive. Columns the size of skyscrapers rose among the sides, built of pure black marble, and shadows hung thick in the air. Even with the spirit of Delphi protecting her, she could feel the freezing cold as she took her first steps along the wall. It was packed with all sorts of monsters, but these, unlike the ones in the tunnels and before the doors, were not loud at all. She saw giants sharpening massive swords and axes, sticking staves in their wooden clubs and working together in relative peace. None of them seemed too happy about it, and the occasional growl and punch was not uncommon, but they didn't kill each other. She saw telkhines fighting under the supervision of dog-headed cynocephali, as well as a large number of mortal guards, all dressed in what looked like high-tech tactical gear. All these different species in one place, and no one blood was being spilled. Then she saw why.

At the end of the room, on an elevated podium, was a huge throne, the seat maybe four metres off the ground. Sitting on the throne was an equally massive man. He must have been eight or ten metres tall, and irradiated cold like a glacier. He was fully clad in Stygian Iron armour, with a single blazing diamond in the middle of his breastplate. His eyes were a piercing blue, and his buzz-cut hair and long beard were white. Leaning against the armrest of his throne was an enormous sword, which gave off nearly as much cold as he did.

As Rachel watched, the figure stood up, reached for his sword and slid it into his scabbard, which was strung across his back. He shrunk in size, and when he stopped, he was still maybe three or four metres tall. He turned to the side and Rachel followed him, and they walked into another slightly smaller cavern. With his long stride, he walked fast, but Rachel kept up as they crossed the new room in no time and passed through a crumbling stone arch. Every room was the same: gloomy, dark, ominous and insufferably cold. Suddenly, she whipped around to a voice.

'Milord!'

The creature who had spoken was a strange one, he was shorter than Rachel, maybe reaching five feet, but had a bulky and muscled frame, like that of a fighter. He had a menacing-looking axe strapped to his back, and Rachel didn't doubt he knew how to use it. His long, brown beard almost reached his waist, and he was completely bald, with slender lines tattooed in a vertical line from the middle of his former hairline to the back of his neck.

'Mahal? Speak.'

The dwarf looked nervous, but he stood up straight. 'Queen Sess' company failed, milord. Jackson caught the arrow moments before it could hit the pontifex.'

The man stayed silent for a moment, then violently punched through a marble column, letting out a roar of frustration as he did so. 'I promise you, one day, I will kill that bastard son of Poseidon. Slowly and painfully. Until then-'

He stopped talking abruptly, suddenly looking around with interest as if he had smelled something. 'Interesting. Mahal, say nothing of our plans until I tell you.'

The short man's face was drawn into a confused frown. 'Is there something wrong, milord?'

'Nothing to worry about', said the man, who had a slight look of amusement on his face. Suddenly, he looked straight at Rachel, and burning pain shot into her eyes. 'We have a visitor.'

Rachel opened her eyes with a scream and looked around frantically. Relief filled her when she realised she was still in her cave, sitting down in the middle of the floor. She managed to slow her breathing down, and stood up shakily. After a week of searching, she had found their enemy.

She walked out of her cave, but sped up the pace as she slowly recovered from her shock. Travelling that far into enemy territory with her powers had been dangerous, but it was a necessary risk to know who they were and how to fight them. As she passed the Hypnos Cabin, she stuck her head inside. Their head counsellor, Clovis, who was also known to be their heaviest sleeper, was up and pacing, inspecting the rest of his cabinmates, who, while they seemed to be asleep, had concentrated looks on their faces.

'Clovis!' She said in a hushed voice.

He looked up and smiled at her. 'Hey, Rach. What's up?'

'I found them. You guys can go back to normal sleep now.'

The son of Hypnos cracked a huge grin, and Rachel had to contain laugh as he immediately lay down, presumably to tell his cabinmates the search was over.

The Hypnos Cabin dealt with, she strode towards the Big House. People waved and smiled at her, and she smiled back, even stopping to compliment some of the younger campers. She had become a motherly figure in the camp, at which she now stayed year-round. Annabeth was undoubtedly their leader, but she was the one everyone went to when they needed to talk, while maintaining their respect as their Oracle.

She leapt up the steps in the wooden porch, where Mr D was lounging in a chair, playing card with some terrified-looking satyrs. He took a sip of grape juice and cast a look her way. 'Great to see you, Rosa!'

She looked at him distastefully, then kept going into the house. She immediately headed for the rec room, where she knew Chiron would probably be. Down the corridor, left, right. She burst into the small room, and was met by four wide pairs of eyes. Chiron was sitting in his wheelchair on his usual spot around the ping-pong table. Clarisse had both her hands on the table and was leaning over a map, with Travis looking on intently. His girlfriend, Katie Gardener, appeared to be in deep conversation with Chiron.

'My dear?' Asked the centaur. 'Are you all right?'

She must have been out of breath and slightly red-faced, but brushed it aside. 'I found them.'

Their eyes widened again, and Rachel told them everything, from the tunnel to the moment when she was discovered. She described the man in detail, and Chiron's face fell more by the second.

'Tell me more', said the centaur. 'Was he-'

'Cold?' Rachel interrupted. 'Like a thousand freezers opened at once. Chill you right to the bones.'

Chiron sighed and looked down. 'Ten years is all the fates see fit to give us.' He looked up at them. 'The man you saw was Koios, Titan of the North. He is the second eldest son of Gaia, brother of Kronos and Hyperion. By what you described, we face only one titan, but he is extremely powerful.'

Clarisse nodded and stood straight. 'I say we tell everybody at dinner. Then we'll start getting ready. I'll get the Hephaestus cabin to start activating the defences.'

'We should also call Leo and Calypso', said Katie. 'Leo's great with machines, and it won't be safe for them over there.'

Travis look her hand in a reassuring gesture, and nodded at the rest. 'We've been preparing for this. We'll be fine.'

Clarisse made a face, smiled at the two slightly and looking at Chiron. 'We should also increase weapon and monster training, and suspend any extra activities until this is over.' They nodded in agreement, Chiron looking at them with a twinkle in his eye.

'I need to let you know how proud I am of all of you. You have grown into fine demigods, worthy of upholding the honour of Olympus. With Percy and Annabeth here, the monsters won't stand a chance.'

Sicario means contract killer or assassin in Spanish, just so you know.

So, Percy is a machine. You'll get to see more of his powers and fighting later, so prepare yourself. Also, intense Percy-Annabeth themed chapters could be possible in the future. Would like to to see that stuff, or would you rather I just put a little in each chapter as we go along? Also, I need to adress a few things. One is Rachel. Personally, I think she's a pretty awesome character, and I haven't seen any fanfiction that focuses or her to any degree. In the books, she just spits out prophecies, but doesn't really do much else (if you don't look at BOTL). I think Riordian presents her as brave and determined, but a pretty naïve character in the middle of the more experienced demigods.

I've chosen to show her as a powerful individual, which is how I imagine her after 10 years, really showing the extent to which the power of the Oracle of Delphi can work. Green mist always appears around the oracle, and as Hecate is the Lady of Mist, its bound to have some magical potential. If you dont agree with this, fuck off to another book :) Rachel is an extremely strong mist manipulator through the oracle, and can also has a form of essence projection, where she can use the mist to take her conscience to another place while she concentrates. She is able to see and hear, and can manipulate stuff by using the mist(the green snakes) but is essentially an invisible ghost.

One last thing. I don't think I was able to describe Mahal as I wanted to. I imagined similar to Dwalin from the hobbit, but with a longer beard and the tatoo on his head.