I'm sorry. I think this chapter is short, but it's sweet and the plot is brought in again, and you'll all hate me for the cliffhanger cuz I suck.

;) :P

Also I faced technical difficulties and am exhausted so yeah, short chapter. Better than no chapter right?

Its late and I have to get up early so short authors note.

Virtual hugs to: The Avian-Olympian, myheartsastereo, Blackrosesroit, riki14499, Meepmeep123, mixandmingle, Book3, crazy-for-movies, and Pandastyle.

Short replies:

The A-O: SO PUMPED! And that is ironic and weird. I love the Leroy thing! And all the PJO references in Kane Chronicles.

myheartsastereo: Hola mi amiga! DO! I SHALL READ AND REVIEW!

Blackrosesroit: Ah. Yeah. Lena no Mary Sue.

riki14499: You reviewed chap 1 so it may be a while before you get this if you even get this far but thanks for reviewing! Glad you like it! Love hearing from new peeps.

Meepmeep123: Same here. Hot summers. :)

crazy-for-movies: THANKS! MEANS SOOOOO MUCH! Right? I go all bitch when people rip on swim. And how the %^&*(*^% is fishing a sport?

Pandastyle: Haha. I'm planning on writing a reaction chapter in my other story of Nico telling them about points in Lena's life. THANKS! And she's planning on uploading something soon, but idk if its PJO related.

No lyrics.

Song: Behind These Hazel Eyes by Kelly Clarkson.

Disclaimer: ...

We only made it about a mile before we had to stop. First, my ankle did not enjoy the uneven ground and caused me to fall, which caused me to catch myself, which caused my hands to get cut up, and the act of raising my hands hurt my side wound. Also, Zack looked like he was gonna pass out from exhaustion. I guess his lightning thing took a lot out of him.

"We can stop." I was breathing heavy, but Zack slightly more.

He nodded, grateful, and stopped. I reached into my pack and tossed him the canteen of nectar.

"Bottoms up," I told him.

"Yup," he muttered as he took a swig. Almost instantly, color returned to his face.

"You look better," I noted.

"I feel better. Much better." He tossed it back to me. "You're turn."

I stared at the nectar. I had this annoying knack to just let my wounds heal normally. My father would carry a bottle of salt water from the ocean and that was all he needed to heal most wounds, as long as they weren't poisonous or too serious.

Instead of drinking I poured some on my hands and then set it on my side wound. I hissed as I felt it take effect. I then did the same to my ankle wound and arm burn.

I didn't like the taste of nectar. It tasted like the cookies my dad would always make for me when I was little. They tasted of bittersweet memories that I cherished and cursed in all the same ways.

"We'll lay here for now. Should get moving soon, just to be safe."

"Do you even know where we are?"

More or less? Somewhere in the middle of Pennsylvania. I looked up at the stars. I then turned to my right and pointed. "That's North. We'll head that way."

He sighed but didn't argue. I then sat down next to him and rummaged through my bag for the shotguns. I checked the rounds in one of the guns and tossed one to Zack.

"Celestial bronze bullets. Don't use the bullets too often. Not too many places to find those. You typically gotta melt down your own weapons, and I'd rather not resort to that."

I then checked the bullets in my own gun. They were a slightly darker color.

"What are those?" Zack asked.

"Celestial bronze coating a steel bullet. A kill-all weapon."

"Where did you get these? I don't see many of these at Camp."

I shrugged. "They're not too modern with their weapons. Besides, they were designed by a mortal."

"Who?"

I shrugged. "My grandfather on my mom's side. Something to do with their third quest. They didn't tell me much about their quests. That one especially."

"Third quest? The one where your mom was kidnapped?"

I sighed. "Yeah, which is why I think they didn't like to talk about it." I lied down. "You probably know more about my parents than I do."

He laid down next to me. "I doubt that."

I snorted. "Trust me. I know my parents tales had become bonfire stories. Everyone knows the tales of the Great Percy Jackson except me." I did this bitter laugh thing. "How entirely ironic."

"Maybe we know they're tales better, but know one knows Percy Jackson himself than you. I mean, you know what he laughed at, what his favorite color was, what he liked to do in his free time."

My eyes glazed over, consumed by memories. "He laughed at the stupidest things. And pretty much anything my mom or I said. He had a great sense of humor and sarcasm. His favorite color was blue. His mom had made it this big point of making all foods blue when my dads ex-step-dad said no foods were blue. My dad carried on the blue tradition for me. In his free time...every now and then, when there was a park nearby us, he would teach me how to play basketball. He would let me win, like any father. Although, every now and then he would steal the ball and make me chase him for it. My mom would be off to the side laughing as she sketched buildings."

I just sat there in silence then.

Zack broke it after a few minutes. "I don't know anyone else in the world who could have told me that."

"Tell me about their first quest," I told him. I found myself unconsciously moving closer to him.

He thought about it. "Okay. He was twelve, as I'm sure you knew. It started at his school. I don't know what it was called."

"Yancy Academy," I interrupted, like a little girl hearing her favorite story for the umpteenth time. "That's where he met Grover, and there was this annoying girl Nancy. And Chiron was there, he was a cool teacher supposedly..." I realized I had been babbling. "Sorry."

"Would you like to tell the story?"

"No. I'll be good."

He smiled like he doubted it, but continued on. I found my eyes beginning to droop as he moved on to their second quest. Consciousness left me right as he finished telling the tale of the Sea Of Monsters.

My dream was bad. Extremely vivid. I was in a dark place and fog was everywhere. Then the fog cleared and warmth touched my body. I shielded my eyes from the sun. If one didn't look too closely, it would seem picturesque, something off of a post card. I was on a cliff and below me was a beach.

But on that beach a war was being fought. A losing war it appeared, though the winning side seemed to have little manpower. They seemed greatly outnumbered in fact. Yet, every now and then, a member of the losing side would fall to his/her knees, clutching their head, shouting odd, random things.

This is the war that rages behind the curtain of ignorance.

It was that voice again.

The Romans were the first to feel the threat. Now the fight a lost cause. The Greeks are ignorant as ever, and the gods have filled themselves with pride and refuse to ask for help. As clueless and prideful as ever. Despite all your fathers work.

I felt my fists clench and anger rise.

The battle will be swiftly won, and then the west shall be taken, a rug taken underneath everyones feet, unnoticed that it had even been there in the first place. The future does always rely on the past, on the memories.

"Who are you?" I asked. My voice sounded odd, as if spoken through cotton.

Your worst adversary. You say you don't wish to be a hero, then play no part. Flee to Alaska, the land beyond the gods, there you shall be untouched, unharmed, undisturbed.

Somewhere I found the courage to reply, "Whatever your planning, it won't work."

Oh, I'm not planning anymore. What you're seeing is playing live. Though how utterly ironic is it that the girl destined to face the monster of enemies, when she has so many bad ones herself.

I opened my mouth to respond, though I'm not sure what, but then the world around me spun. Suddenly, instead of standing on a rocky ledge, I was standing on a patch of grass in a forest. Instead of a shining sun above me, there was a shining moon. I was wearing different clothes too. Black skinny jeans, a white tanktop, and a silver army jacket. I wasn't alone either. Next to me was a girl a little taller than me, her age around fifteen or sixteen. She had spiky black hair and a T-shirt that said 'Kill The Cheerleaders'.

"You sure you're okay, Si-" she stopped herself. "Lena."

I had began to hate that name. It reminded me of the heroism I was expected to amount to. "I'm fine." I snapped.

"I know your parents death must suck-"

I snorted. "No. If freaking rainbows. I don't know what you're talking about."

"I mean that. Your a lot more cynical and you snap a lot more. Where's that cheery girl I saw just a year ago."

What I don't tell her is that she died along with my parents.

I woke with a start, for the second time, though this time it was daylight.

Also, this time, there was an arrow pointed at my face. On an impulse my leg shot up and over, knocking the bow out of the way. I the jumped up and swung my fist at the girl, who skillfully dodged it. But I did manage a roundhouse kick to her face.

I heard her groan. "Gods, Lena. You sure got that hand-to-hand combat down didn't you?"

I stepped back. "Thalia? The hell are you doing here?"