Chapter: 2

Third person P.O.V.

Percy sat at in a cold alleyway. He took the last bite of the apple he had. Every food he stole was stolen or picked from a dumpster. His clothes were rags after a not so friendly meeting with the Sphinx. All his supplies had been exhausted. If he didn't die of hunger, he'd die a thief. He'd learn to adapt. His methods of stealing rivaled the Stolls. He took a peek out of his card box home. Halfway across the street. He saw a friend all too familiar. Mr. Thorn a.k.a the manticore. In his grasp was a twelve year old boy. Percy crept out of hi card box. Riptide in pen from clutched tightly in his hand. He crossed the street quietly. He uncapped Riptide. He drove it through the manticore's back. The value of stealth. Thorn slowly crumbled to dust. The twelve year boy was gone. In his place was a man. Mid forties, long black hair tied in a pony tail. His eyes were a deep contrast. White and black. He radiated an aura so strong you could taste it. Percy raised his sword in a defensive stance. He didn't trust anyone. Especially old powerful men.

"I mean no harm child," the man said in an amused tone.

"Yeah the last I was told that I found myself playing Whack-a-mole with several Cyclopes," he replied raising his sword.

"I am Chaos. The first being of creation. The creator of all," he man responded.

The smartest reply he could come up with was "Uh-duh."

Percy lowered his sword.

"I come with a proposal," Chaos said in a business tone.

Percy remained silent.

"I want you to join my army, be its commander, be my assassin." Chaos said.

Percy eyebrows furrowed in thought. A grave realization struck him. He took a step back.

"You just want to use me. Make me fight your wars, kill your enemies!" he shouted.

"No you may not believe this, but I want to help you," Chaos responded, "I am not like the Olympian gods."

"What makes you different? Your all the same. Full of pride and prejudice," Percy replied bitterly.

"Perseurs five hundred years from now a war is coming to earth. One so grave you will not be ready for. No matter how hard you train form today. You won't be ready," Chaos responded anger laced in the harshness.

Percy was consumed in thought. His friends, his family. He droned over the word family. His family left him, betrayed him. Annabeth dumped him, his mother is dead. Its my fault, he thought. He had to play hero for the Olympians. He had to be their pawn. Now he understood what Luke was talking about. Pawn on a chess board. That's all I am.

"Perseurs what were your mothers dying words?" Chaos asked more like pointed.

The scene flashed in Percy's head.

"Remember who you are," those were the words.

He looked at Chaos right in the eye. His mother was a queen among women. For the Queen he said in his head.

"When do we start?" he said with a small smile.

500 years later.

Annabeth P.O.V.

It has been five hundred years. After the giant war. Five hundred years of peace and tranquility. But still it has been five hundred years of pain, regret, torment, despair. Most importantly five hundred years of secretly searching for him. Percy-Jackson. An order was made in Olympus. No god, demigod, nymph, satyr, dryad or any creature of the mythological was to ever utter his name. Poseidon was banished from the council for helping his son escape. Cyclops left the forges in protest, pegasi refused to be ridden. The sea is loyal to itself overwhelms its loyalty to Olympus. The penalties were grave. The throne of Poseidon was removed from Olympus, the cabin burned to the ground. All creatures of the sea were to be hunted and killed. Luckily the Cyclops retreated to the sea, pegasi being creatures of the sea and air were spared. Nymphs were never again seen. If war was to occur. Olympus would not stand. The seven of the prophecy except him were granted immortality. Becoming immortal heroes. Should war come. But it was obvious Olympus would fall. Chances were slim but not impossible. Peace was relished as it was. I became an architect. Burying myself in my work. Jason was made a god of heroes. All the titles he would have taken were given to him. Hero of Olympus, bane of Kronos, Gaea, slayer of giants and titans alike, greatest hero ever. He also was made camp director after Mr. D's time was up. I loath him. He accused 'him' and I believed him. We all did. Very few of us regret the move. Thalia, Hazel, Nico, Frank, Chiron. The rest chose to stand by the gods. We search were and whenever we can. He isn't dead that we know. He wasn't granted immortality. So where is he?

"Annabeth are you with us?" Zeus asked interrupting my trail of thought.

"Sorry my lord," I replied avoiding his glare.

"As I was saying. War is upon us. A prophecy has been given,"" he said in an annoyed tone.

" what is the prophecy?"

Darkness and light join to destroy

The youngest age in their weakest time,

To rise or fall the choice is in the betrayed hands," Apollo said in a frustrated tone like he had said it over and over again.

"We believe we have ourselves another war," Ares said with a smile. He loved war and bloodshed. You couldn't blame him he is the god of war. Funny he hadn't faded over the years.

"Thank you for stating the obvious," Artemis rolling her eyes.

"What do we do?" Hazel said. Even though she was a daughter of Pluto she hated death.

"What can you do?" a voice ran in the room.