Next Deadline: November 2

Percy stumbled out of the ocean, his friends following. The beach's smooth sands shimmered in the rays of the gradually setting sun, water lapping out at their feet as if it was begging them to stay in its depths for eternity.

Percy glanced around at the otherwise empty area, looking back at his friends. Grover was shivering, looking overall miserable, while Luke seemed to stride out into the open without a care in the world. He aimed a comforting smile at Percy, but the younger didn't look his way long enough to see the grin turn into something darker.

The sigh brushed against chapped lips, letting out all the hope he had carried along with him on the trip. Although he was perfectly dry, Percy felt cold inside. He had been so close to getting his mother back, and now, there was barely a chance that she was actually still alive.

"How'd we end up here?" Grover asked, teeth chattering. Percy thought hard, recalling the words the sea nymph had spoken to him a while back.

"What belongs to the sea will always return to the sea," he answered. "It doesn't matter, anyway. This whole thing was a waste."

"Perce-" Luke began, and he could have sworn he saw the flash of a smirk on the son of Hermes' features. The illusion only baited his anger, and the next sentence was spoken as a shout.

"Hades isn't even the thief!" He exclaimed. "We came here for nothing!" He kicked a nearby seashell, watching as the figments that made up its form cracked and broke apart. "Someone else switched the master bolt, and Hades' helm, and decided to frame me to start a war!" Why him? Why was he important? He didn't even know who his father was, for gods' sake!

No, his mind whispered. But they do.

The thought made him increasingly more furious. His fists clenched, and he resisted the urge to punch something. "Who would want war that badly?"

Any answer his friends could have given were interrupted by the low rumble of a motorcycle, the vehicle itself rolling out from the streets and hitting the sands. It didn't stop until it was right in front of the three, Ares stepping out and fixing them with a snarky grin.

"Hey, punk," he taunted, and Percy's eye twitched. "You were supposed to die in the Underworld."

He walked forward, freezing inches away from the Olympian. Percy jabbed a finger at the taller. "You tricked me. You stole the helm, and the master bolt."

"So close," he smirked. "I'm not afraid to admit that I wasn't responsible for taking Zeus' bolt. Even I'm not that stupid. But Hades is a different matter, more... manageable, you could say." He shrugged. "Looks like you're not the only half-blood that does errands."

"Half-blood?" He asked.

"Who else?" Ares said. "Gods can't take each other's symbols of power. Demigods are a different story."

His shoulders shook. "Who was it, then?"

Two thin eyebrows rose behind the thick pair of sunglasses. "Doesn't matter," Ares replied. "What matters is you're impeding the war effort. See, you die down under, then your father has a beef with Hades, corpse breath ends up with the master bolt, and Zeus gets mad."

He stopped Ares before the wargod could continue. "And who is that, exactly?" He demanded. "My father. Who is he?"

"It wasn't obvious?" Ares tutted. "Ol' barnacle beard, obviously."

"Then why-"

"Do you have those freaky powers of yours?" Percy nodded, trying to calm down. "Well, lemme ask you something, kid- how much does it matter? It's only a matter of minutes before you're dead. And when that's done, Hades will still be looking for this."

He held out a bronze helmet, Ancient Greek carved into the sides of the metal. "The helm of darkness," Percy realized.

"Bingo," he answered. "Hades won't know who swiped his bonnet, so he'll be made at both Zeus and Poseidon. Pretty soon we for a nice little slugfest on our hands."

Percy hung onto Poseidon's name for a little too long, mind whizzing with bursts of thought. He pushed that away, trying to concentrate; he could think about his dad later, but now, he had a god to defeat.

He considered something for a while, thinking hard. "But why not keep the bolt for yourself?" He questioned. Percy fidgeted with the backpack on shoulders, hating it more each second. He should have known Ares would have hidden the bolt in there. He saved the berating for later, grabbing on tighter to the straps that held the bag with Zeus' favorite weapon on his back. "Hades would have killed me anyway, so why send it to him?"

Ares only sent him an impish grin. "You're gonna have to try harder than that, kid," he teased. He unsheathed the sword at his hip, bringing it against Percy's neck in one fluid movement. "Let's just finish this."

"Exactly my thoughts," he replied, lightning cackling at his fingers. He aimed a burst of electricity at Ares, putting in as much as he could into the quick shot. It wasn't enough to knock the god back but it was enough too escape, ducking under his arm and running back a few paces. He turned just in time to see Ares approaching, catching Grover trying to run over to the Olympian.

"No!" He shouted, and his friend stopped in his tracks. Percy understood what was going on here, and a needed the satyr to see it, too; this was something between him and Ares, and only him and Ares.

His protector nodded, shuffling back, while Luke just looked on with a blank expression. Percy's attention snapped back to the taller.

"I can't have you taking that bolt to Olympus," Ares called out, a mere few steps away. "You might be enough to convince those hardheaded idiots to listen to you. So, I've got to kill you." He swung his sword again, Percy dodging just in time. The younger pulled out his pen, watching as Riptide extended to full form, and he managed to block another hit.

"Go ahead and try," he said, and that seemed to be the only bait Ares needed. He aimed at Percy again, burying a millennia of strength into the hit, but the son of Poseidon was already gone.

"But if I win," he continued. "The bolt and the helm stay with me, and you have to go." It almost seemed like Ares looked behind his back at Luke before answering, but Percy didn't pay the glance any mind.

"Whatever you say, punk," he shrugged, pulling up his sword again. Anaklusmos came to block, concentration so focused on holding the action that he didn't notice the Olympian's other hand until it collided with his face.

Percy was thrown back at the force, skidding along the sands. "Not bad, little hero," Ares said, attempting to strike again, but he rolled out of the way. "But 'not bad' isn't the same as 'good,'" Ares reminded, just before he hit the demigod once more.

Percy was flung backwards into the water, instinctively holding in his breathe as to not drown. He quickly grabbed ahold of his senses, struggling to stand. Ares was already in the ocean by the time he had gotten up, smile full of ease.

"I've been fighting for eternity, punk," Ares reminded him. "My strength is unlimited, and I can't die. What've you got?"

He smirked, just a small flicker of his lips, before raising his hands above his head. The sea rose with him, engulfing both the demigod and the wargod, pulling Ares into its wrath. Percy found him amongst the waves, letting the water drop within a split second, and Riptide came forward to strike the wargod before he could react.

It dug deep into his ankle, golden ichor flowing from he wound. Ares was forced to take a kneel before him, head snapping up in disbelief.

The moment only lasted for the tiniest of moments, Ares springing up in a want to get out of the submissive position. Percy backed up, ready to fight, but he knew it was over.

"Soon," Ares spoke, and when he did, his voice was layered the richest of hatred. "Godling, you will raise your blade in battle and feel my curse." Percy didn't have time to react as Ares disappeared in a burst of pure light and white fire, leaving Hades' helm behind.