Prologue

All rights belong to R. Riordan.

So, my dumb self started re-reading the story to remember what had been said before, and ended up fixing it. No major changes, though; just correcting mistakes and typos, trimming some long, weird sentences and deleting short parts and sentences that look awkward.

But then I deleted all the chapters off the site, so no ANs here anymore. I don't even remember what I've written there except that this story started in 2013 after a short two-chapter story that inspired me to do something similar because that author had never updated it. Yay me and my long writing process!

If you heard the word 'hell', what would you think of? The list of possibilities was endless. Some imagined a traffic jam; others would give everything to avoid a family gathering. Particularly religious ones had pictures of fields of endless pain, fire, and a red-skinned devil with horns. Percy's first thought was Tartarus. A bottomless—almost as he'd had a misfortune of finding out this past summer––pit of evil, torture, and treachery was designed to fit the name. Any other day he would be confident in his choice. Had that been any other day.

This particular morning––day, week, month… he didn't know; all of them were horrendous––was his best choice. Even Annabeth, who was a beautiful shade of pale pink, agreed one hundred percent.

Okay, perhaps there was the need to rewind a little and start from the very beginning.

Percy could say that his day had gone downhill from the first second he'd woken up. It was because he'd overslept… again.

But it wasn't his fault… partially. For one, Percy was going to defy anyone who would try to blame him for watching too much TV. What else was he supposed to do? Stay on Olympus? Train at camp? Give autographs to naiads and tree nymphs? (Now, that was a nightmare.)

Percy's choice fell on TV. It let him clear his mind. Annabeth wasn't impressed but she also was buried under heaps of projects and requests made by both Gods and campers to dwell on it for long. Even Romans couldn't stand in the corner and not participate in 'let's-get-Annabeth-too-busy-to-sleep' challenge.

Without her what else was he to do?

Anyways, having satisfied his craving for some brainless talk-shows and kung-fu reports, Percy had crawled into bed at roughly 3 am. It was one of the first days of the new school term in the Goodie High School––how he'd managed to not get kicked out was beyond him––so Percy had to cut off the explanation and return to reality. Paul, who was also his stepfather, had convinced them that Percy's disappearance had in no way been his fault and it certainly would not happen ever again. Percy was on board with this idea; he would like to spend a few months without saving the world or being a punching bag to every single immortal monster out there. Both had a tendency to destroy his life which sucked big time.

Morning should have been his first warning sign but, being too late to worry about anything, Percy missed it. Of course, later Annabeth would claim it was his natural obliviousness, but Percy knew it wasn't.

Speaking of Annabeth, she should already be here. Percy stopped dead at the entrance, not caring that the bell was about to announce their first period, looking around in case Annabeth was hiding somewhere. Nothing seemed out of ordinary. The hallway was almost empty and quiet.

With a heavy sigh Percy scurried toward his class.

The new term had started precisely four days and one minute ago. Yet, WELCOME banners could be seen at all corners up to this very second. They were also written in fancy italics, which made it virtually impossible for him to decipher. Being too distracted by sudden sadism of whoever had made those, Percy missed the bell (don't even ask). He picked up the speed, still determined to reach his first class which, luckily, included his stepdad. Perks of being Paul's family: You could barge into the classroom last minute and not suffer any severe consequences.

When he entered the class, Percy saw Paul already present; the lesson hadn't started yet so Paul had no intention of making a scene. Or he was simply too engrossed in that weird, fancy-looking book in his hand. Was there a skyscraper? Percy squinted. Yep. A skyscraper that looked like the Empire State Building and a horse with wings. Huh? Peter frowned at the image of Blackjack springing in front of him. Weird.

His brain decided that none of it mattered and it was a good time to stop overthinking.

He should have known better. Of course, he should. If he had known beforehand, he would have pretended to be sick, or being called to camp, or amnesiac… well, the last one was an extreme. But he was not overreacting. He was not!

But that would happen later. For now he had nothing to worry about.

But Paul looked excited. He examined the book with too much attention Percy rarely saw him express. (It should have been a red flag!)

Perhaps, not calm but indeed oblivious to the inequity of the word and obsession with torture some individuals had, Percy looked around the class. Barely a moment later, he caught a glimpse of Leo and Jason, both of who were sitting in the most inconspicuous corner possible with dead looks on their faces. (They had tried to back out but Chiron had turned out quite tenacious in his task of making them suffer; no one had asked Percy, as always.)

Percy couldn't help but grin at their misery. Leo fully deserved it for the stint he'd pulled on the Half-Blood Hill. Leo. He should have been more vocal about his survival, but he'd done nothing. He had reappeared at the Camp boundaries with Calypso behind him, as they floated above the Half-Blood hill whereas Leo had been doing the last-minute touches to his "I'M HERE!" sign. Fully deserved.

Jason, however, was still determined to pretend he enjoyed it. As far as Percy was concerned, Jason didn't mind going to school––which caused them some troubles because Jason barely existed in a mortal world; really, Hera?––he just wanted Piper to be here with him as well. Instead, he was stuck with Leo, Percy, and Annabeth, all three of whom were giving him a headache with their mere presence. But Piper had charmspoken her way out of this mess and had left to California to finally reunite with her father, promising to return a later when she'd be done with business there––whatever she meant by that.

Conveniently, they had a vacant place near them which was fine with Percy and his gut feeling. Perhaps, he was wrong and everything was a big fat lie, including this class. Perhaps, he was just overly optimistic, and some evil bastard by the name of, say, Triumvirate Worst Rulers I-can-beat-Zeus Holdings would burst into the room and murder all of them in the messiest and the bloodiest way imaginable.

Throwing last wistful look at the door, still waiting for Annabeth to enter the classroom, Percy made his way to his seat and collapsed on it as though he had just finished holding the weight of the world, immediately placing his head on his arms. Paul would understand.

Paul (damn him and his loud voice) cleared his throat, and everybody stopped talking. He held up the book high up in the air so everyone could see it.

"Our today's class is going to differ from the curriculum I've set up for you. This book in my hands represents the sort of subject we wouldn't usually assign for this class. However, it is a high probability that you'll find the story compelling. To further motivate you, I'd like to announce that the book will have no weight in your final grade. I," Paul raised his voice to be heard again now when the focus of the students dispersed. Fortunately, the distraction was not as strong so calling them to order didn't present any sort of difficulty. "I, however, would encourage you to proceed with our original plan, for the most of assignments I give, will make up the major part of your final grade. If we ever finish it."

The last part was uttered in an undertone, which prevented most of the class from catching his words; those who did, preferred not to draw attention to the comment.

"I presume you're aware of all the peculiar events that have taken place around the country and in New York precisely in the last couple of years," Paul faltered to examine his students once more then continued. "This book will shine a light on those events and, potentially, explain everything you might have found bizarre before."

He shouldn't have said that. For one, kids instantly erupted into an animated debate which almost instantly transformed into mayhem, a literal cacophony which might or might not have given certain individuals a splitting headache (they would think next time before eavesdropping). They could not see the point of this change, and the premise of the commentary, the unanimous conclusion they'd come to, revolved around the idea of Paul having gone insane.

It required answers.

"What are we going to read about?" a girl in the first row, Lyssa, asked in thinly-veiled suspicion. Most of the students nodded.

Paul's eyes instantly landed on Percy and his friends. Lyssa, being overly observant, noticed his look and made a mental note to look into it later; she'd think of the reason when the time came.

"It's hard to explain, but I'm sure you'll understand everything with time," Paul finally said.

"What do you mean, sir?" a girl, Lora, inquired; her almond-shaped hazel eyes filled with confusion.

"Well," Paul resisted the urge to scratch the back of his head, which was so not typical for him that a few kids narrowed their eyes, "I think you are well-aware of all the mystifying events that have been occurring for several years now. This book will… explain everything to you," he said and looked at the class, waiting for their reaction. It wasn't long in coming. Everybody started talking at the same time, clearly less than satisfied with his evasiveness.

"What exactly are we gonna read about?" Lyssa reiterated, watching him intently.

From what she had gathered in the last several years, the natural phenomena she had witnessed could be put in the category of 'inexplicable' until further notice. The scientists had proposed numerous of explanations but not one had stuck, for each and every one had been disproved by yet another weird occurrence. How could a book from your English class solve something science struggled with?

"Some unusual people," Paul answered carefully, watching Percy (damn you, Paul!).

Percy was bound to get it. It took less time than Percy would like—then he would have been able to push the blame on his thickness or something. But he couldn't. Suddenly he found it hard to breathe, for his lungs practically gave out the moment Paul's words had settled in in his head. An image of a black winged horse appeared before his eyes; it did look like Blackjack, if you think of it. Could it mean…?

Percy shook his head to dispose of unpleasant thoughts.

Naturally, an idea, planted so carelessly, rooted itself in his brain immediately. His luck had to be the worst, didn't it? As if Fates didn't have anything better to do with their infinite amount of time than torment him! Percy was certain it had something to do with them, it had to! Apparently, if he were right––and he must be, because he had already riled himself up––then this lesson would turn into a big mess.

"Could you be more precise, please?" Lyssa pressed.

"You'll understand everything when we're reading," Paul promised her and looked at the book. He still tried to conjure up the way of telling Percy where he had gotten it from because Percy would make inquires on the subject. There was no way to avoid the drama.

"May I ask you a question? Who sent it to you?" Percy proved his suspicions as if he read his thoughts. There was only one question that should follow this discussion.

The class gasped in overly exaggerated manner. It was partially understandable, as he hadn't talked much at school, even when he had still been in New York and with his memory; his conversations with teachers had been reduced to scolding in class and recalling that one particular event Percy himself had refuted on numerous occasions.

Lyssa stared at him, fairly stunned by his… question. Percy was never known for being an avid participant in class. Why now? And this manic glint in his eyes… It seemed he knew what the book was about and couldn't bring himself to find at least one positive moment to make it tolerable. A decision was painfully easy to make: she'd watch him to figure out a mystery that Percy Jackson was. She'd never resist the temptation.

"It was in the box… I don't know who sent it," Paul answered a little apologetically. He had wisely left out some details, but a grimace on Percy's face promised a serious talk later.

A minute silence transformed into chaos with everybody eager to express their opinion before the other. Everybody was shocked. Did they hear it correctly? Their teacher was planning to read a book sent by an anonymous? Without as much as checking the credibility of the source?

Percy personally believed it was a shape shifter disguised as Paul, for his Paul would never, under any circumstance, allow himself to demolish the remnants of Percy's normal life. For one, Paul had a firsthand experience with supernatural, what would be the reason for him to confirm its legitimacy? He should not forget a tiny detail of Paul being married to his mother. If somehow Percy did not matter in this equation, she always did. Purposeful disruption of Percy's life would inevitably lead to her downfall. Or downfall of their marriage, to be exact. Even Paul's evil twin would not attempt to screw Sally up. It led to a more working presumption: someone played him. Someone beyond powerful. Someone who had infinity at their disposal.

The gods would regret their games if it exceeded Percy's level of dangerous.

If only his classmates saw the issue…

They didn't.

"Mr. Blofis, are you sure that you want to read this book?" Lyssa asked, sounding doubtful. As exciting as it seemed… No, Mr. Blofis behavior didn't fit. Lyssa knew it wasn't the plan, it wasn't supposed to happen at all.

So what exactly was going on?

"I'm certain it will be an enlightening experience. If you don't mind, I will start," Paul's tone said that he wouldn't take no for an answer.

Decided. They would beg for mercy when Percy had finished with them.