A/N: Told you I'd fix it Percy's death. Happy? Good. Now you can read on without discomfort. Reviews help!

Third Person POV

The traitor stood at the center of camp. Percy Jackson's former mentor turned his killer. Annabeth was unconscious still, and Jason was on the ground desperately trying to get up. The God of War smirked. Then he laughed. It was a cold laugh…the kind that made you shiver. He had gone crazy. Or maybe he hadn't because the War God adored bloodshed. Seeing Percy covered in both his blood and the ichor from his own veins excited him to no end. The so-called "hero" was no more, and everyone was grieving. Yet the man just strolled though the crowd in circles, staring at the pain on each of the children's faces and drinking it in like sweet nectar to his lips.

He felt no remorse. The revenge he so greatly desired all these years had been satisfied, like blood to a vampire. Except he was no blood-sucking demon. Just a blood-spilling monster.

Maybe he isn't a monster. After all, a monster and a God are two different things. But he might as well be, shedding innocent blood like he had just done, all because of foolish pride. Ares had a case of hubris unlike any other. Sweet, caring Percy had always said that he made Annabeth seem like a swooning damsel in distress. He never allowed another man or woman to fight for him, to rescue him, to even love him. Aphrodite was a different story. He had known very well that lust and love were not one and the same. And here he was with a woman who constantly made him look like a fool. But he made her feel like a fool too, didn't he? He was murderous, violent, and relentless. Everything she wasn't.

And then there was Percy. His body was long gone. The Fates had made sure his body had been taken in a glorious fashion, no doubt, and that sight had made the Camp weep even more so. The boy who wasn't the hero ended up saving them again. The virtuous one, who always did what was right. The brave man, who stood up against four Titans and emerged victorious. The Savior, who rescued Olympus from its destruction. Gone, just like this? Many didn't think it was fair. Maybe it wasn't, but that didn't change the fact that a blood covered, sweaty God was hovering over them, laughing at their grieving.

But the battle wasn't over yet. Rumbling, Ares thought. Or at least that was what he heard. A low growl, like Apocalypse was coming in a moments notice. Ares spun around quickly, eager to face the challenge. But neither a man nor a God could fight something he couldn't see. Then something happened that surprised him. A single drop of water dripped from the sky onto his face. Hmm, he thought. It must be raining.

Rain? Ha. That'd make everyone laugh if they had heard it. Rain wasn't common…it was still the summertime. To think that rain would be the source of the water was a fool's answer indeed. Fortunately, the God felt more and more water trickle, then spill, then splash. Rain wasn't the answer.

For the first time in his life, the God of War felt fear.

His worst fear realized: a massive, destruction-bringing wave of water rushing high above Half-Blood Hill. And there Percy stood, silent and furious, in the middle of the wave, as the water rushed passed his feet and towards camp.

Never kill a Son of Poseidon if he can come back.

"ARES! WE HAVE UNFINISHED BUSINESS."

"Come and fight me Punk. You'll lose all the same. You can't kill a God."

"I'll start the attempt by cutting your damn head off. Sound like a plan?"

Ares smirked, raised his blade, and lunged. Unfortunately, Nico had intercepted him. Using the force of the wave, Percy arrived in front of the God. Soon after, Jason dragged himself up, spit blood like a true warrior, and stood tall on the other side of Ares.

"Hah! This is adorable!" Ares mocked. "The second generation. Children of Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades. This isn't too much of a challenge. You heroes are pathetic."

Percy smirked and spoke up. "You and your family talk of us heroes. Men like us is what the Gods should aspire to be. I will fight you. I will win. I will risk everything, as usual, and finally, when you bite the dust at my feet and beg for me to show you mercy, I will be a man and walk away from the field."

Cheers of "Yeah!" "Go Percy!" and "Kick his ass, Jackson!" erupted in the crowds.

"Come then. Let's see what you three can do."

Celestial Bronze, Stygian Iron, and Imperial Gold clashed in a symphony of loud rings. Ares was wrong. Fighting Percy while the other two were behind him and on the sides of him was actually pretty difficult. Everytime he swung, Jason or Nico or Percy would slice at his legs or his sides, disallowing any offensive moves.

Ares was outnumbered.

Most people were either cheering or hiding. Sure, the idea of the Big Three's sons fighting the God of War enraptured the crowd beyond comprehension. But that also meant "danger."

Possible outcomes:

Nico could raise undead skeletons for backup and suck up life-force from Ares.

Jason could command electricity and shock Ares into next Tuesday.

Percy could solidify water until it becomes rock-hard and shape it into any object he can imagine.

And together? Just about the coolest battle you'd ever lay eyes on. Ares lunged, but Percy evaded, and jabbed him in the back. With Jason and Nico at his side, he no longer feared that he would get hit in his Achilles' spot. Then, the unthinkable happened. Percy was knocked back and fell, and was hit by an unseen force. Once Percy lost footing and collapsed, the crowd froze. A tall, somewhat-greasy Punk kid with a black leather jacket stood beside the exhausted body of Ares. Suddenly, the whole crowd grew angry at the realization of who the God's little friend was. A man all too familiar.

Deimos.

"Miss me?" he growled, sporting the same signature scowl he had gotten from his father.

Percy stood completely still on his feet, but inside, he was furious…like a hungry Lion ready to attack his prey…to capture it, devour it, and smirk at the path of the helpless animal it leaves behind its feet. And they say the God of War is violent…

Jason knew this God all too well. He had a face full of expression…and what it expressed was hate, fear, and confusion, as if he knew him from before.

"Percy?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah, Jason?"

"Um, remember earlier when I said I was running from something?"

"Yeah…"

"It found me."

Deimos smirked at Jason's slight fear of him. Even though fear was his brother's job, he still knew that fear and terror worked as if they were one and the same. And the nervousness from the crowd fueled him like gas to a car. He was ready to do something daring.

He attacked the entirety of Camp Half-Blood.

Fire spewed from his hands, and he laughed coldly. Of course they remember when you almost burned down their camp a few days ago. Lifting his arm up, he shot the ball of flame at the Big House, igniting it in the beauty and destruction of inferno. The camp ran in circles. Ran in terror.

Percy jumped at Deimos in pure hatred, slicing and dicing at the God. For a semi-trained swordsman, Deimos was very apt at blocking Percy's blows. Everytime Percy swung, Deimos would meet his blade, earning a clang! from the swords. Meanwhile, Ares was rather busy with Jason and Nico, the former trying to attack his son.

Basically, if picturing it was a problem, the scene looked a little like this: five men fighting with swords in the middle of a kid-friendly camp that was slowly burning down to ashes. Yes, it is up for an Academy Award.

Then something terrible happened. After a miscalculation of the fight, Percy swung at Deimos the wrong way, and was disarmed. Deimos took the opportunity to kick the boy in the gut and send him crashing to the ground. Ares paused, subduing the other two demigods before growing furious at what he saw: Deimos standing opposite Percy, ready to strike him down.

Before Deimos could deliver the "punch-line", Ares intercepted his sword and the young God looked up at his father in shock.

"NO ONE KILLS HIM. NO ONE BUT ME."

Deimos dropped his sword in a grunt and said, through gritted teeth, "he's all your then. Boss."

"It isn't over with yet…PUNK," Percy said, taking out the one thing that truly sent fear through Ares' veins. He unsheathed the bastard sword laying beside him. The Godsword.

"But…t-that's impossible!"

"Obviously not. Why do you ask? You're not afraid you'll lose again, right?"

Testing Ares' patience was all apart of the plan. Percy's taunts frightened the God, but he wouldn't dare admit weakness in front of the camp, and especially not his own children. But instead of attempting to fight again, Ares did something no God f War had ever done. He attempted to run.

Unfortunately, Percy stabled his jacket, trapping him in front of the Son of Poseidon. A bad mistake.

Suddenly, the earth rumbled. The crack in the ground grew, spreading from each end past the men's feet, and through the crowds. The cracks began to illuminate red, smoky light and growl like a bear. It was only then that Percy realized what he had done.

He cracked open Tartarus.

Without warning, the ground split itself open like a knife to butter. No one fell in, thank the Gods, but they definitely did fall down. Ares lost his footing and slipped, and held onto the ledge of the ground for dear life. With the camp on fire and the campers running in fear of the now huge, red, glowing trench, Percy had two choices. Kick the man who betrayed him down into Tartarus where he belongs. Or another thing that he regretted even considering.

Saving his sorry ass.

Being the man he is, Percy immediately knelt down and extended his left arm, his right arm holding the Godsword. Ares happily took the hand, grunting and trying not to slip and fall. Percy was losing his grip fast.

"Ares! Climb up!"

"I can't! I need both your arms, kid!"

Percy looked down at the golden blade. One that granted him so much power and strength beyond his normal level. With it, he could control the fate of himself, his friends, and even the Gods themselves. Make things the way he wanted them to be.

Or he could give up the thing he wanted the most in order to do what's right.

Percy dropped the sword, and grabbed Ares' other hand with is own. Using all his might, Percy was able to thrust the God upwards onto the ledge. The bottom of the red trench growled. Percy stood up and grabbed the sword, doing something he never thought he'd be able to do.

He threw the Godsword directly into the pit.

Immediately, the red light dimmed and the growling ceased. The ground's ends gradually moved back together, sealing themselves once more. But when Ares looked over to his side, Percy was gone.

Before the God could turn around, Percy's old blade, Riptide, was at the front of his throat. The God smirked, and put his hands up. Percy smiled, and then kicked Ares in the spine, earning a cry of pain and him kneeling in front of him. With a half-laugh playing off his lips, Percy spoke.

"I've fought monsters every day, and I've slayed them all. Every Titan I ever faced…beaten without a single thought of it. I bathed in the River Styx, and became nigh-invulnerable. I've been to the Underworld and back. I've escaped Elysium. I've wielded the Godsword. And then I gave it up to save us all from Tartarus…including you. And finally?"

The God of War looked up reluctantly, tired and sweaty. The demigod smiled mischievously, crossing his arms with pride.

"I beat you. AGAIN."

A/N: Yeah. I know. But one more chapter is up, and it'll be basically just closure, and then it's complete! Thank you for all the people who reviewed, but you know how it is: more would be even better. Just saying.

– Chris