Warning: Certain ancient Greek names matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used. Also if you haven't read them yet read 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Early Adventures' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Sea of Monsters' 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Titan's Curse' and 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Magical Labyrinth' as well as the one shots 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Stolen Chariot' The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Sword of Hades', and The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Bronze Dragon' before reading this story as stuff that happened in them will be mentioned. Lastly, any one who wants to do a Demigods and Olympian reads story using 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon' is allowed as long as you inform me about it.

I Meet Another of Bob's Sons

We could see the white flag from half a mile away. It was as big as a soccer field, carried by a thirty-foot-tall giant with blue skin and icy gray hair.

"A Hyperborean," Annabeth said, "The giants of the north."

"It is not a good sign if they sided Kronos," Thalia said. "They usually peaceful."

"Not to mention live farther up north than their Laistrygonian Cousins," I muttered.

Bianca and Grover had joined us for back up which is a good thing. As the giant got closer, I could see three human-size envoys with him: a half-blood in armor, an empousa demon with a black dress and flaming hair, and a tall man in a tuxedo. The empousa held the tux dude's arm, so they looked like a couple on their way to Broadway show or something—except for her flaming hair and fangs.

The group walked leisurely toward the Heckscher Playground. The swings and ball courts were empty. The only sound was the fountain on Umpire Rock.

The man in the tux was taller than an average human—about seven feet. His black hair was tied in a ponytail. Dark round glasses covered his eyes, but what really caught my attention was the skin on his face. It was covered in scratches, like he'd been attacked by a hamster repeatedly—or an eagle.

"No way," I said, "That's Prometheus, son of—Bo—I mean Iapetus who stayed neutral in the first Titan war."

"Definitely not a good sign," Annabeth said.

"He looks like a magician," Grover said. "I hate magicians. They usually have rabbits."

Bianca stared at him. "You're scared of bunnies?"

"Blah-hah-hah! They're big bullies. Always stealing celery from defenseless satyrs."

Thalia coughed as Annabeth shook her head.

"What?" Grover demanded.

"We'll have to work on your bunny phobia later," I said. "Here they come."

Prometheus steppe forward. "Percy Jackson," he said in a silky voice. "It's a great honor."

If it wasn't for the circumstances, I would have said the honor was mine. This was the Titan who made the first humans in the Greek stories, and gave them fire that help us develop to what we are today, both the good and the bad of all mortals.

Anyways, Prometheus' lady friend the empousa hissed at me and Annabeth. She'd probably heard how we'd destroyed two of her sisters last summer.

"My dear," Prometheus said to her. "Why don't you make yourself comfortable over there, eh?"

She released his arm and drifted over to a park bench.

I glanced at the armed demigod behind Prometheus. It was my old traitor-buddy Ethan Nakamura.

"Ethan," I said.

"Jackson," Ethan responded.

"To business," Prometheus extended his hand. "I am Prometheus and I'm here to parley with you."

He waved me toward a picnic table and we sat down. Thalia Grover Bianca and Annabeth stood behind me.

Hyperborean giant propped his white flag against a tree and began absently playing on the playground. He stepped on the monkey bars and crushed them, but he didn't seem angry. He just frowned and said, "Uh-oh." Then he stepped in the fountain and broke the concrete bowl in half. "Uh-oh." The water froze where his foot touched it. A bunch of stuffed animals hung from his belt—the huge kind you get for grand prize at an arcade. He reminded me of Tyson.

Prometheus sat forward and laced his fingers. He looked earnest, kindly, and wise. "Percy, you position is weak. You know you can't stop another assault."

"We'll see."

Prometheus looked pained, like he really cared what happened to me. "Percy, I'm the Titan of forethought. I know what's going to happen."

"Also the Titan of crafty counsel," Grover put in. "Emphasis on crafty."

Prometheus shrugged. "True enough, satyr. But I supported the gods in the last war. I told Kronos: 'You don't have the strength. You'll lose.' And I was right. So you see, I know how to pick the winning side. This time, I'm backing Kronos. And I'm here because I thought you might listen to reason."

He drew a map on the table with his finger. Where he touched, golden lines appeared, glowing in the concrete. "This is Manhattan. We have armies here, here, here, and here. We know your numbers. We outnumber you twenty-to-one."

"You of all people should know wars aren't win by numbers alone," I said.

Prometheus smiled apologetically. "At any rate, our forces are growing daily. Tonight, Kronos will attack. You will be overwhelmed. You've fought bravely, but there's just no way you can hold all of Manhattan. You'll be forced to retreat to the Empire State Building. Even with your trump card, you will be destroyed. I have seen this. It will happen."

I thought about the picture Rachel drawn in my dreams—an army at the base of the Empire State Building. I remembered the words of the young girl Oracle in my dream: I foresee the future. I cannot change it. Prometheus spoke with ssuch certainty it was hard not to believe him.

But then I remembered Hal's prediction: You'll be one of the seven greatest heroes of your generation, possibly of all time.

That gave me the encouragement I need.

"I won't let it happen," I said.

Prometheus brushed a speck off his tux lapel. "Understand, Percy—"

"No, you understand. I'm destined to be one of the seven great heroes of my generation by Halcyon Green, son of Apollo, himself," I responded. "I'm staying here to see it come true."

"You don't understand," Prometheus said, 'The day after tomorrow, Typhon arrives in New York, and you will have no chance at all. The gods and Mount Olympus will still be destroyed, but it will be messier. Much, much worse for you and your city. Either way, the Titans will rule."

Thalia pounded her fist on the table. "I serve Artemis. The Hunters will fight to our last breath."

"Same goes for the satyrs and nature spirits," Grover said.

"As goes for us campers," I said. "You're supposed to be one of the good Titans, Prometheus, but right now, you've proven to be as selfish as your crooked uncle. You're fighting for someone who wants nothing more than to destroy us."

"Kronos has promised—"

"Let me ask you, have Kronos swear on the River of Styx that he would let us live if we surrender?" I asked.

"Well, no—"

"Kronos' words aren't anymore trust worthy as your," I said.

"And the Olympians much better?" Prometheus asked, "Let me ask you, how long did it take for them to tell you your prophecy, Percy Jackson? Don't you think your father knows what will happen to you?"

I remembered being claimed when I was lost in the middle of the woods. I also remember what my dad said about sending his kids off to battle.

"The hardest thing for a parent to do is to send their kid off to battle," I said.

That seemed to caught Prometheus off guard as I continued. "Tell Kronos to call off his attack, leave Luke's body, and returned to the pits of Tartarus, because I choose to save Olympus."

The empousa snarled. Her hair erupted in fresh flames, but Prometheus just sighed.

"If you change your mind," he said. "I have a gift for you."

A Greek vase appeared on the table. It was about three feet high and a foot wide, glazed with black and white geometric designs. The ceramic lid was fastene with a leather harness.

Grover whimpered when he saw it and Annabeth gulped

Thalia gasped. "That's not—"

"Pandora's Pithos," I said. "Known to mortals as Pandora's box."

Every demigod that existed heard of Pandora's Pithos. It was one of the most tempting objects in the Mystical Universe. Anyone in possession of it is always tempted to open it. Even the first owner herself: Pandora. Only thing was, when Pandora opened it, she released most of the demons that haunt mankind—fear, death, hunger, sickness, even the first empousa. It was another punishment of the gods. Only one thing remained when Pandora opened it: hope.

Prometheus slid the jar across the table.

"I give you this as a reminder of what the gods are like," he said. "Keep Elpis—spirit of hope—if you wish. But if you decided that you have seen enough destruction, enough futile suffering, then open the jar. Let Elpis go. Give up Hope, and I will know that you are surrendering. I promise Kronos will be lenient. He will spare the survivors."

I stared at the jar and for the first time since we started this chat, I got a very bad feeling. This jar could be what help me decide the fate of Olympus.

"I don't want the thing," I growled.

"Too late," Prometheus said. "The gift is given. It cannot be taken back."

He stood. The empousa came forward and slipped her arm through his.

"Morrain!" Prometheus called to the blue giant. "We are leaving. Get your flag."

"Uh-oh," the giant said.

"We will see you soon, Percy Jackson," Prometheus promised. "One way or another."

Ethan gave me a look of hate and sympathy.

"You don't have to go with them Ethan," I said. "Your mother is the goddess of balance—surely you can sense this is wrong."

"What's wrong is that the Minor Gods and their kids never received respect," Ethan said.

"You mean like Governor Seaward: son of Hebe, or Zethes and Calais: the twin sons of Boreas of the Argonauts, or Achilles: son of Thetis, or how about Orpheus: son of one of the Muses," I said, "The Olympians may not show it, but demigods have respected minor god kids who earned their respect, and you Ethan Nakamura are no hero."

Ethan glared at me. "See you in the battle field, Jackson."

He then left with his truce party through Central Park, like it was just a regular sunny Sunday afternoon.