I tried to make this chapter of actual length. Hopefully I succeeded. :)

New character guys! Wootwoot! Let me know what you think of her, and our character from last chapter: Clark. Also, a character from the Heroes of Olympus is in this chapter! Do I portray him right? I wasn't sure, but I had to put him in. I just had to. ;) You'll see!

I think I'm gonna try to update some other stories today. We'll see how that turns out.

REVIEW PLEASE! :D

Disclaimer: ...

READ ON!

We wandered through the camp for what seemed like forever, but was probably like fifteen minutes. I couldn't help but admire their camp structure, and feel like my mother must have been amazed at the architecture.

"So, where are we heading?" I asked Clark.

"See that up there?" He asked as he pointed. "That's the Pomerian Line. City limits. You guys are gonna have to turn in your weapons."

"What?" Zeke demanded. "No way in Olympus or hades!"

"Calm down, Zeke!" I snapped. "It's tradition. The Roman's will have to turn their weapons in too."

"So what, you trust these Romans?" He accused.

Clark glared but I beat him to the punch. "My dad believed in a bond between the two camps. He fought for it. Now I will. Any more questions?"

Zeke snarled but, thankfully, remained silent.

After a few more minutes we reached the City Limits. "What is with this?" I heard to my right. "Single file!"

Alexa frowned. "What was that?"

"If my parent's stories were right..." I turned and faced the armless statue. "Terminus. How are you?"

"Parent's, huh?" He asked. "Who might they be?"

"Percy Jackson." Clark answered for me.

"Ah." Terminus said. "Sarcastic one he was. Always had something to say."

My mouth quirked upwards. "So I've heard." And experienced.

Terminus narrowed his eyes. "You're just like him aren't you?" I just shrugged, trying not to smile. "Well, weapons out! That includes you, Jackson. That pen in your pocket, that was your father's wasn't it? Bring it out!"

My eyes widened. How had he known?

Terminous whipped his head to Zeke. "Don't you look so smug, kid. I know you got a knife in your pocket and a sword disguised as a cell phone. Bring them all out! No weapons!"

Reluctantly I pulled out my sword, my four throwing knives, my shotgun with half-and-half bullets, and my mothers dagger. "Now what?"

"Anna!" Terminous called. A little girl, she had blond hair in cute little ringlets and brilliant blue eyes. She would obviously be a stunner when she got older. She wore a little white dress and held a tray.

"Weapons on the tray." Terminous instructed.

I looked down at my very deadly weapons. Then at the kid, no older than seven. Alexa seemed uneasy too. "Give our weapons to her? She's a kid gods sake."

I felt myself tense. "Yeah," I handed Anna my weapons and turned to Alexa. "You're point?" I asked coolly. Alexa stared at me, and an understanding seemed to pass between us. She nodded and pulled out her own weapons, handing them to Anna. Everyone followed her example after that. Clark turned in a pugio, a Roman dagger, and gave it to Anna as well. Anna grabbed his sleeve. "My brother, is he okay?"

Clark's eyes darkened, but then he smiled. "Yeah, kid." He ruffled her hair. "'Course he is."

She smiled and trotted away with the weapons.

"What was that about?" I asked Clark, not taking my eyes off the girl.

"Her brother is fighting right now. I, I have no clue if he's okay. They're legacies, the two of them, of Venus. Don't let that fool you, her brother's one hell of a fighter."

"I believe you."

He nodded. "Come on, if you can really stop this creature, we gotta move fast."

With that we walked into the City.

"Clark! That boulder! Move it an inch to the right!" Terminous called. Clark kept walking. "Just an inch! And...And that blade of grass, it is much too long! Take an inch and a half off! Mind you, and inch and a half. No more, no less. Do you understand, boy? Are you listening! It's right there!" Clark just kept walking.

"OCD, much?" I asked.

"Understatement." Was his reply. He lead us down a street that could have been Main Street in at least a dozen small towns I spent time in, but I couldn't name any of them. They all blurred together. I clenched my jaw and kept my gaze forward. After a while, he lead us into an old building.

"What is this place?" I asked him as we walked in. It seemed like a home.

"A friend's place." Clark replied. "It kind of became a makeshift base. None of us feel qualified to start making decisions at the principia."

His apartment looked like it had been ransacked and torn up. Clothes and furniture was littered everywhere. It was still better than a lot of places I had stayed.

"Dude, this place looks like shit." Zeke pointed out. Clark shrugged, unconcerned.

"Yo!" He shouted. "Guys! We got company! The graecus have arrived!"

A girl walked down a flight of stairs. She reminded me of someone, but I couldn't place who.

She had crazy curly black hair, that went to about her shoulders, so was a little shorter and wilder than mine. She wore a black tank top, ripped jeans, and combat boots. Her skin was scarred all over the place. She had once scar going diagonally across most of her face, and another one on her lip. This girl was a fighter. "'Bout time. We're getting our asses killed while you guys were resting up at home. Classy. Way to encourage the truce between our camps." Her voice was gruff and snappy.

"We didn't know." Alexa defended. "We came as soon as we did."

"Like hell you did." The girl barked.

"Sarah!" Clark snapped.

"They're graecus!" She shouted, gesturing to us, but speaking as if we weren't there. "Our enemies since the beginning of the gods. Why in Pluto should we trust them?"

"Your camp trusted my father." I reasoned. "Percy Jackson." I said, before she could ask. "I'm just asking for the same. Besides, better late than never, right?" I tried to crack a joke, but it didn't seem to lighten the mood.

Sarah glared at me. "You. You alone. Follow me." She then stalked up the stairs.

I glanced to Clark. "Should I be happy or upset that weapons aren't allowed inside the City?"

Clark shrugged. "Sarah's a good girl, I swear, I mean, this is her place. She's letting us use it. Besides, she's one of the best strategists I know, and she's a fighter. A direct descendent of Bellona, but I swear she's got more fight in her than any child of any war god out there."

"Then why isn't she fighting?" I asked.

"She was, she came back to give us an update just a few hours ago. She's heading back real soon."

"Awesome." I muttered as I began walking up.

"Lena!" Zack called.

I turned. "Yeah."

He paused, as if there were a lot he wanted to say, but not a lot of it he wanted to in public. "Be careful, 'kay?"

"Always." I responded. He snorted, but didn't reply. I then ran upstairs.

Up stairs was a huge round room. It was covered in papers, and in the center of it was a huge table with a battle map laid out. Around it were a few other kids, all looking different. Two guys. Three girls. All different hair colors. Different appearances. None looking similar.

A girl with frizzy red hair, freckles, and glasses looked up. "Who're you?" She demanded.

"Lena Chase Jackson." I said. "Descendent of Poseidon and Athena, daughter of Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase."

Ginger nodded, but did not speak.

A freakishly tall dude with short brown hair stood from the table. "Your Greek." He stated.

"Yeah. And you're Roman. We done playing 'state the obvious'?"

I swore I saw Sarah's mouth twitch into a smile, briefly.

Freakishly tall dude snarled but sat back down.

A kind looking girl, with stick straight black hair, with a random blonde streak, looked at me. "Why are you here?" There was no accusation in the question.

"To help." I stated honestly. "Hopefully."

"And you believe you can?" Sarah asked.

I shrugged. "I don't know, but I know we're the last ditch effort. Might as well give it all we got. If we're going down, we're going down bloody and with a damn good fight."

Sarah smiled, but it wasn't kind ro humorous. It was dark, and somewhat cold. Probably not even intentional. Suddenly I knew who she reminded me of.

She reminded me of myself. Now that I made that connection, I knew how to read her, how to deal with her.

"You got that right, kid."

Keyword: kid. She didn't see me as an equal. She held onto her scars with pride.

"You don't see me as your equivalent do you?" Also, when dealing with myself, don't beat around the bush. It's freaking annoying. Just spit it out.

She leaned against a wall and crossed her arms. "No. I don't."

"Well, then," I said as I sat down, feigning complete ease. "Let me enlighten you."

She nodded and turned to the other Roman's. "Out." They listened wordlessly.

And right then and there, in front of a girl I'd known for minutes, I told my story, and I spared few details. I even spoke of my worst, most regretted night. No one interrupted me the entire time. As I told of that night, I rubbed my wrist, where, if you looked closely, you could make out the scar. Same with the scar at the corner of my eye.

The entire time, I tried to convey one thing: You might not be able to see them clearly, but I had scars. And I still felt the wound today, even though I had obtained them years ago.

When I was done, there was silence. Sarah looked out a window. "I came to this camp when I was eight." She told me. "A monster had killed my father and step-mother, who I hadn't known was not my biological parent at the time. This camp became my home and salvation. I would do anything to protect it." She turned back to me. "Why do you fight? You did not seem very attached to your camp."

"You're right." I told her. "I'm not, but my parent's were." I bit my lip and paused. "I don't know, I guess." I said eventually. "I guess, I'm trying to carve myself a way out of their shadow. I'm trying to do something right. I mean, I've done a lot of wrong things."

"So you fight for redemption?" She questioned.

"Is that wrong?" I asked.

She paused. "I have seen far worse reasons to fight." She turned her attention to the map on the table, and walked over. I stood and followed.

"The battle is on the bay." She pointed at the map. "Nine miles north. As a demigod, you can't miss it. Mortals haven't either. They're claiming a couple of mob's are in a territory battle. They send some cops over, but unfortunately, few make it back." She looked to me. "It doesn't like mortals. It think they're worse than demigods."

"What is it?" I asked. "I mean, what does it look like?"

Sarah sighed. "Sadly, it depends on who you're asking."

I straightened up. "What?"

"The monster, it feeds on your worst nightmares, your worst memories, and it becomes the thing you fear most. It then traps you in your own hell." She looked pale and her eyes were wide. "Do you know what that's like?"

"Yes." I said honestly. "It's happened to me before."

She nodded, remembering. "No one can kill it because no one can get close enough. And it has friends. Monsters, monster's that worked for the gods, have turned."

"Like the Chimera."

She nodded. "Just like the Chimera." She put her elbows on the table and ran her hands through her hair. "We're dying faster than we can kill."

"Well, maybe they just need some fresh meat." I tried to smile and she looked up. "Let's go send some bastards to tartarus, shall we?"

She stood up straight, and smiled back at me. It was a crooked, devilish smile. So much like my own. "We shall."