School's over so I was like, why not?

I swear to the Gods, this was an experience I never want to experience again. In my next life as well. I give this a negative 5 out of five. I wasn't dead yet, but damn it, I was tired of being a corpse. Now I understand why they prefer to just lie in a coffin. It took the extra effort just to walk.

As we moved toward the heart of Tartarus, I kept glancing down at my body, wondering how it could belong to me. I look like a suicidal kid's art come to life. My arms looked like bleached leather pulled over sticks. My skeletal legs seemed to dissolve into smoke with every step. I had long learned to move normally within the Death Mist, more or less, but the magical shroud still made me feel like I was wrapped in a coat of helium.

I never told Annabeth or Andromeda, but I worried that the Death Mist might cling to me forever, even if we somehow managed to survive Tartarus. I didn't want to spend the rest of my life looking like an extra from The Walking Dead. Does Andromeda know how to remove it? I sincerely hope so.

Said girl somehow didn't have the Death Mist, but it didn't seem she needed it. After leaving Nyx's palace, the Mist she had at first curled around her body. It was weird, seeing her surrounded by white Mist, slowly covering her until all I could see was a blurred out girl.

You know something else? I can't focus. I try to look at other things, but in Tartarus, there weren't many pretty things to look at. Under our feet, the ground glistened a nauseating purple, pulsing with webs of veins. In the dim red light of the blood clouds, Death Mist Annabeth looked like a freshly risen zombie. I especially tried not to look at her.

Ahead of us was the most depressing view of all. Spread to the horizon was an army of monsters—flocks of winged arai, tribes of lumbering Cyclopes, clusters of floating evil spirits. Thousands of baddies, maybe tens of thousands, all milling restlessly, pressing against one another, growling and fighting for space—like the locker area of an overcrowded school between classes, if all the students were 'roid-raging mutants who smelled really bad.

Bob led us toward the edge of the army. He made no effort to hide, not that it would have done any good. Being ten feet tall and glowing silver, Bob didn't do stealth very well.

About three yards from the nearest monsters, Bob turned to face us. "Stay quiet and stay behind me," he advised. "They will not notice you."

"We hope," I snorted only to get elbowed by my oh so dear twin sister again. Dammit, her elbows were sharp. "Depressing comments are my thing." She scolded. "Find your own."

"Really, we're having this conversation now?" I complained. "And Sephie, they are my thing. I started them first. I get the right."

"You want to bet on it?" Andromeda challenged, putting her hands on her hips, a light in her eyes.

On Bob's shoulder, Small Bob woke up from a nap. He purred seismically and arched his back, turning skeletal then back to calico. At least he didn't seem nervous.

Annabeth face-palmed. "Children of Poseidon." She grumbled. "Bob, if we're invisible… how can you see us? I mean, you're technically, you know..."

"Yes," Bob said. "But we are friends."

"Nyx and her children could see us," Annabeth said.

Bob shrugged. "That was in Nyx's realm. That is different."

"Basically, Death Mist cannot escape a primordial in their home realm. Do not doubt Akhlys's power. She hates us, but her power brings along misery. We fought that and won. Unless a deity steps in, we're good." Andromeda shrugged. "Do you really think we'll lead you astray?"

"Never." I automatically say, reaching for her hand. Her hand was both cold and warm as she squeezed back.

I forced myself to look forward. "Well, at least we won't have to worry about bumping into any other friends in this crowd."

Bob grinned. "Yes, that is good news! Now, let's go. Death is close."

"The Doors of Death are close," Annabeth corrected. "Let's watch the phrasing, yeah?"

"Phrasing… what's that?"

Annabeth gave Andromeda the dictionary explanation as we plunged into the crowd. I flinched as we passed by them unnoticed. In demigod terms, there was no such thing as unnoticed. They attacked us, we defended. This wasn't the first time I had seen such big groups of monsters. I fought an army of them during the second Titans war. This, however, was different. Since I was twelve, it had always been them attacking first and me defending. I had something to fight for, something to defend. It gave me courage, gave me the motivation to fight it out no matter how bad the odds were.

Here, though, I was the invader. I didn't belong here, in this hell with all these monsters, any more than the Minotaur belonged in Penn Station at rush hour.

A few feet away, a group of empousai tore into the carcass of a gryphon while other gryphons flew around them, squawking in outrage. A six-armed Earthborn and a Laistrygonian giant pummeled each other with rocks, though I wasn't sure if they were fighting or just messing around. A dark wisp of smoke—I guessed it must be an eidolon—seeped into a Cyclops, made the monster hit himself in the face, then drifted off to possess another victim.

"They hate each other." Andromeda murmured in my ear, her voice almost lost in the chaos happening around us. Ah, small C. "They would kill each other with even the smallest excuse. Some aren't even loyal to their own kind. The only reason they can bear to be here right now is because they have one shared motive—to create havoc in the mortal realm."

Annabeth, from my other side, whispered, "Percy, look."

A stone's throw away, a guy in a cowboy outfit was cracking a whip at some fire-breathing horses. The wrangler wore a Stetson hat on his greasy hair, an extra-large set of jeans, and a pair of black leather boots. From the side, he might have passed for human—until he turned, and I saw that his upper body was split into three different chests, each one dressed in a different-colour Western shirt.

It was definitely Geryon, who had tried to kill me two years ago in Texas and almost sold Annabeth, Nico and Tyson to the Titans. Apparently the evil rancher was anxious to break in a new herd. The idea of that guy riding out of the Doors of Death made my sides hurt all over again. My ribs throbbed where the arai had unleashed Geryon's dying curse back in the forest. I wanted to march up to the three-bodied rancher, smack him in the face, and yell, Thanks a lot, Tex!

Sadly, I couldn't. A pity really. No one would miss him.

How many other old enemies were in this crowd? I flinched again, realising that every battle I had ever won had only been a temporary victory. No matter how strong or lucky I was, no matter how many monsters I destroyed, I would eventually fail. I was only one mortal. I would get too old, too weak, or too slow. I would die. And these monsters… they lasted forever. They just kept coming back. Maybe it would take them months or years to re-form, maybe even centuries. But they would be reborn. A memory came to surface, of something Clarisse once told me. Heroes get hurt. They… they die, and the monsters just keep coming back.

It had been when Chris went insane, but it was true, wasn't it? She knew it sooner than I did, but I eventually understood it. Was it fair? Monsters get to come back over and over and over again, while we get, what? An eternity in death? That thought made me laugh. Almost.

Seeing them assembled in Tartarus, I felt as hopeless as the spirits in the River Cocytus. So what if I was a hero? So what if I did something brave? Evil was always here, regenerating, bubbling under the surface. I was no more than a minor annoyance to these immortal beings. They just had to outwait me. Someday, my sons or daughters might have to face them all over again.

Sons and daughters. When did I have this thought?

The thought jarred me. As quickly as hopelessness had overtaken me, it disappeared. I glanced back at Annabeth. She still looked like a misty corpse, but I imagined her true appearance—her grey eyes full of determination, her blond hair pulled back in a bandana, her face weary and streaked with grime, but as beautiful as ever.

Okay, maybe monsters kept coming back forever. But so did demigods. Generation after generation, Camp Half-Blood had endured. And Camp Jupiter. Even separately, the two camps had survived. Now, if the Greeks and Romans could come together, they would be even stronger. Maybe in this generation, we can't end the regeneration problem. Who is to say someone, hundreds of years in the future, can't?

The future isn't set in stone. There are people out there, predicting what will happen, but who can predict what will happen? Who can tell what will happen? No one. All we can do is hope that life will be better, and work for that future. And as long as I live, I can hope. Who ever knew my sister was alive? Who could've known she was as strong as before? She is living proof that our lives won't go exactly as we guess it will.

We've made it so far even though it is said no human could survive Tartarus. The Doors of Death were so close.

Sons and daughters. A ridiculous thought. An awesome thought. Right there in the middle of Tartarus, I grinned.

"What's wrong?" Annabeth whispered.

With my zombie Death Mist disguise, I probably looked like I was grimacing in pain.

"Nothing," I said. "I was just—"

Somewhere in front of us, a deep voice bellowed: "IAPETUS!"

"Great," came Andromeda's dry tone that I have come to learn was her 'I have no time for this. Can I just end him now and forget about him?' tone.

A titan strode towards us, casually kicking lesser monsters out of his way. He was roughly the same height as Bob, with elaborate Stygian iron armour, a single diamond blazing in the centre of his breastplate. His eyes were blue-white, like core samples from a glacier, and just as cold. His hair was the same colour, cut military style. A battle helmet shaped like a bear's head was tucked under his arm. From his belt hung a sword the size of a surfboard.

Despite his battle scars, the Titan's face was handsome and strangely familiar. I was pretty sure he'd never seen the guy before, but his eyes and his smile reminded me of someone… but who?

The Titan stopped in front of Bob. He clapped him on the shoulder. "Iapetus! Don't tell me you don't recognize your own brother!"

"No!" Bob agreed nervously. "I won't tell you that."

The other Titan threw back his head and laughed. "I heard you were thrown into the Lethe. Must've been terrible! We all knew you would heal eventually. It's Koios! Koios!"

"Of course," Bob said. "Koios, Titan of..."

"The North!" Koios said.

"I know!" Bob shouted.

They laughed together and took turns hitting each other in the arm.

Andromeda stood stiff, apparently miffed. "Why do they do that?" She asked loudly. "Why do males do that? It makes no sense. I always see the male do that yet I still cannot fathom why."

She had no fear of being heard but at least no one heard her.

Annabeth chuckled. "Don't worry, Andy, you're not missing out. We girls don't understand boys at all."

"Poor old Iapetus," Koios was saying. "They must have laid you low indeed. Look at you! A broom? A servant's uniform? A cat in your hair? Truly, Hades must pay for these insults. Who was that demigod who took your memory? Bah! We must rip him to pieces, you and I, eh?"

"Ha-ha." Bob swallowed. "Yes, indeed. Rip him to pieces."

"Can I join in?" Andromeda asked me. "Rip Koios to pieces. It was fun, but too short-lived. I forgot to cut off his dick like I promised him." If I was still human, I would've turned green as Annabeth spluttered in an attempt to stop her laughter.

"Ah, it's good to see you..." Koios drummed his fingers on his bear's-head helmet. "You remember what fun we had in the old days?"

"Of course!" Bob chirped. "When we, uh..."

"Holding down our father, Ouranos," Koios said.

"Yes! We loved wrestling with Dad..."

"We restrained him."

"That's what I meant!"

"While Kronos cut him to pieces with his scythe."

"Yes, ha-ha." Bob looked mildly ill. "What fun."

"You grabbed Father's right foot, as I recall," Koios said. "And Ouranos kicked you in the face as he struggled. How we used to tease you about that!"

"Silly me," Bob agreed.

"Sadly, our brother Kronos was dissolved by those impudent demigods." Koios heaved a sigh. "Bits and pieces of his essence remain, but nothing you could put together again. I suppose some injuries even Tartarus cannot heal."

"Alas!"

"But the rest of us have another chance to shine, eh?" He leaned forward conspiratorially. "You earned the respect of all the monsters here all those years ago when you led on the attack to abduct that demigoddess. Fine beauty, eh? I took great joy in ruining that along with all our brothers!" Annabeth's smile/grimace vanished. I saw Andromeda's face for a second as she lost control over her Mist. The look in her eyes was half-reminiscent, half-vengeful.

"He loved my hair." Andromeda said. I got the impression of her holding up a lock. "Loved cutting it off anyways. So when I broke free, I regrew it, and I choked him with it before killing him. I eventually cut it again because it got troublesome."

"Bob was the one who—?" Annabeth asked.

"Yeah." I answered her, gaze not leaving the two Titans.

"No wonder you hated him." Annabeth told her. "And you forgave him?"

I frowned, not having heard that.

"I forgave Bob." Andromeda said softly. "I will never, ever forgive Iapetus."

Bob had grown pale. "What?"

Koios bellowed in laughter. "Ah you have forgotten that as well? It's sad, really. If that blasted Percy Jackson hadn't made you lose your memory, she wouldn't have had the courage to try break free. I always said we needed a tighter rein on her." He frowned. "She is too powerful as it is. I always did say we must end her, but who knows what Chaos would do!"

"Yes. We mustn't anger him." Bob agreed tentatively.

"Oh well. She is but one demigoddess. The world is another thing." Koios lowered his voice. "These giants may think they will rule. Let them be our shock troops and destroy the Olympians—all well and good. But once the Earth Mother is awake, she will remember that we are her eldest children. Mark my words. The Titans will yet rule the cosmos."

"Hmm," Bob said. "The giants may not like that."

"Spit on what they like," Koios said. "They've already passed through the Doors of Death, anyway, back to the mortal world. Polybotes was the last one, not half an hour ago, still grumbling about missing his prey. Apparently some demigods he was after got swallowed by Nyx. Never see them again, I wager!"

Andromeda snorted as Annabeth gripped my wrist. I couldn't see any of her features, but I read the alarm in her eyes without much trouble. If the giants had already passed through the Doors, then at least they wouldn't be hunting through Tartarus for us. Unfortunately, that also meant our friends were in even greater danger. All of the earlier fights with the giants had been in vain. Our enemies would be reborn as strong as ever. I bit my jaw. We had to get out, if only to help defeat all the Giants again.

"Well!" Koios drew his massive sword. The blade radiated a cold deeper than the Hubbard Glacier. "I must be off. Leto should have regenerated by now. I will convince her to fight."

"Of course," Bob murmured. "Leto." Where have I heard that name before?

Koios laughed. "You've forgotten my daughter, as well? I suppose it's been too long since you've seen her. The peaceful ones like her always take the longest to re-form. This time, though, I'm sure Leto will fight for vengeance. The way Zeus treated her, after she bore him those fine twins? Outrageous!"

I almost grunted out loud. Then again, it wouldn't have changed much if Koios couldn't even hear our previous conversations.

The twins.

Now I could remember the name Leto: the mother of Apollo and Artemis. This guy Koios looked vaguely familiar because he had Artemis's cold eyes and Apollo's smile. The Titan was their grandfather, Leto's father. The idea gave me a migraine. Gods, I hate that. Godly families were confusing as it was.

"Well! I'll see you in the mortal world!" Koios chest-bumped Bob, almost knocking the cat off his head. "Oh, and our two other brothers are guarding this side of the Doors, so you'll see them soon enough!"

"I will?"

"Count on it!" Koios lumbered off, almost knocking over me and Annabeth as we scrambled out of his way. Andromeda just stood there, unflinchingly as he walked by. Either she is over the years of torture (unlikely) or she has grown used to hiding what she felt.

Before the crowd of monsters could fill the empty space, I motioned for Bob to lean in.

"You okay, big guy?" I whispered. I almost took back the words, because that name was supposed to be reserved for Tyson.

Bob frowned. "I do not know. In all this"—he gestured around us —"what is the meaning of okay?"

Fair point, I thought.

Annabeth peered toward the Doors of Death, though the crowd of monsters blocked them from view. "Did I hear correctly? Two more Titans guarding our exit? That's not good."

"Oceanus has not been slain." Andromeda informed Annabeth. "Most of the female Titans chose to be neutral. Smart, I say. So, if we're going by the eldest Titans, those guarding the Doors would be Krios and Hyperion. That titan just won't stay dead."

I looked at Bob. The Titan's distant expression worried me.

"Do you remember Koios?" I asked gently. "All that stuff he was talking about?"

Bob gripped his broom. "When he told it, I remembered. He handed me my past like...like a spear. But I do not know if I should take it. Is it still mine, if I do not want it?"

"No," Annabeth said firmly. "Bob, you're different now. You're better." The kitten jumped off Bob's head. He circled the Titan's feet, bumping his

head against the Titan's pants cuffs. Bob didn't seem to notice.

"I like the person you have become." Andromeda pitched in in a comforting way. "I've known you as Iapetus and Bob. I've known some of the worst things you have done. Believe me when I say it is best you do not take it. You are better than ever, the best of the two."

I wish I could add on to what they have said, but it's different for me. I want to tell him he should forget about his past. But can I?

I know how Bob feels from personal experience. I know how confused I felt when I opened my eyes at the Wolf House in California, my memory wiped clean by Hera. I remember Lupa and the wolves. I remember how helpless I felt when there was nothing in my mind. If someone had manipulated me, had given me a new name and told me things that weren't true, I might've believed it. And I would've felt as betrayed as Bob felt when I found out my true identity. If I was given the choice to be given back my memories, wouldn't I take it?

I can try to convince myself it isn't true, that it is different, but what's the point? You can't lie to yourself because your heart knows the truth.

"I think you can choose, Bob," I ventured. "Take the parts of Iapetus's past that you want to keep. Leave the rest. Your future is what matters."

"Future..." Bob mused. "That is a mortal concept. I am not meant to change, Percy Friend." He gazed around him at the horde of monsters. "We are the same… forever."

"If you were the same," I said, "we would be dead already. Maybe we weren't meant to be friends, but we are. You've been the best friend we could ask for."

Bob's silver eyes looked darker than usual. He held out his hand, and Small Bob the kitten jumped into it. The Titan rose to his full height. "Let us go, then, friends. Not much farther."

Stomping on Tartarus's heart wasn't as exciting as it sounded.

The purplish ground was slippery and constantly pulsing. It looked flat from a distance, but up close it was made of folds and ridges that got harder to navigate the farther we walked. Gnarled lumps of red arteries and blue veins gave me some footholds when I had to climb, but the going was slow.

And of course, the monsters were everywhere. Packs of hellhounds prowled the plains, baying and snarling and attacking any monster that dropped its guard. Andromeda cooed in delight and I had to grab her arm and drag her away before she blew her cover. How she could sound like those hounds were playing with soft toys instead of killing monsters, I didn't get. Arai wheeled overhead on leathery wings, making ghastly dark silhouettes in the poison clouds.

I stumbled. My hand touched a red artery, and a tingling sensation went up my arm. "There's water in here," I realised. "Actual water."

Bob grunted. "One of the five rivers. His blood."

"His blood?" Annabeth stepped away from the nearest clump of veins. "I knew the Underworld rivers all emptied into Tartarus, but—"

"Yes," Bob agreed. "They all flow through his heart."

"It's kinda disgusting when you think about it." Andromeda said thoughtfully as I traced my hand across a web of capillaries. Was the water of the Styx flowing beneath my fingers, or maybe the Lethe? If one of those veins popped when I stepped on it… I shuddered. I realised we were taking a stroll across the most dangerous circulatory system in the universe. "I mean, these rivers have goddesses. I never did know what they felt."

"We should hurry," Annabeth said. "If we can't..."

Her voice trailed off. I followed her gaze.

Ahead of us, jagged streaks of darkness tore through the air—like lightning, except pure black.

"The Doors," Bob said. "Must be a large group going through."

"Magnificent." Andromeda gasped, almost smiling. Only she could find those amazing.

My mouth tasted like Gorgon's blood all over again. Even if our friends managed to find the other side of the Doors of Death, how could we possibly fight the waves of monsters that were coming through, especially if all the giants were already waiting for us?

"Do all the monsters go through the House of Hades?" I asked anxiously. "How big is that place?"

Bob shrugged. "Perhaps they are sent elsewhere when they step through. The House of Hades is in the earth, yes? That is Gaia's realm. She could send her minions wherever she wishes."

"We won't be affected." Andromeda curled her fingers. "She can't control us."

We haven't even asked anything, but I guess she would know.

Bob helped us over the top of another ridge. Andromeda seemed too tired to not accept his help. Not good.

Suddenly the Doors of Death were in plain view—a freestanding rectangle of darkness at the top of the next heart-muscle hill, about a quarter mile away, surrounded by a horde of monsters so thick I could've walked on their heads all the way across. Not that I was going to.

The Doors were still too far away to make out much detail, but the Titans flanking either side were familiar enough. The one on the left wore shining golden armour that shimmered with heat.

"He just won't stay dead." I mutter, although Andromeda did warn us beforehand.

"Krios and Hyperion, Bob's other brothers." Annabeth said. The Death Mist shimmered around her, temporarily turning her face into a grinning skull. I turned away from her. "Bob, if you have to fight them, can you?"

Bob hefted his broom, like he was ready for a messy cleaning job. "We must hurry," he said, which I noticed wasn't really an answer. Andromeda squeezed my shoulder as a warning not to talk. "Follow me."

So far our camouflage plan seemed to be working. So, naturally, I expected a massive last-minute failure. What? You can't expect me to be optimistic now.

Fifty feet from the Doors of Death, he and Annabeth froze.

"Oh, gods," Annabeth murmured. "They're the same."

I knew what she meant, though Andromeda faced me, a silent question asked. Framed in Stygian iron, the magical portal was a set of elevator doors—two panels of silver and black etched with art deco designs. Except for the fact that the colours were inverted, they looked exactly like the elevators in the Empire State Building, the entrance to Olympus.

"The entrance of Olympus." I said to her, "They look exactly like that."

"It is… nice." She said, though she might as well have been complimenting a frog.

For a moment, I couldn't hear anything. Seeing them, it made me homesick, my senses just shut down temporarily. It's been around 8 months, maybe more. I haven't seen my mom in 8 months. The Doors were like a personal insult, reminding me of everything that had been taken away. I couldn't even go back. I must do my job as a demigod. I couldn't go back to NewYork, couldn't see mom and Paul. Couldn't see Camp Half-Blood again. I might even die before returning.

I could feel Andromeda's eyes on me, and Annabeth's presence as she pressed against me. "Percy?" She asked worriedly.

"I- never mind." I didn't smile reassuringly at her. It wouldn't have helped.

Looking back at the doors, I noticed other details; the frost that came from the base of the Doors, the purplish glow that most definitely did not look like they were supposed to be there, the chains that were at the Doors, holding them fast, chaining them to Tartarus.

Cords of black iron ran down either side of the frame, like rigging lines on a suspension bridge. They were tethered to hooks embedded in the fleshy ground. The two Titans, Krios and Hyperion, stood guard at the anchor points.

Looking at them, I felt a surge of anger I haven't felt since the Minotaur almost killed my mother. They stole my sister from me. They were responsible for those missed times. They harmed her, maybe even laughed as she screamed. Moments ago, I almost gave up. Now? Strength came back to me in the form of revenge.

"Don't try it." Andromeda said against my ear. "Brother, don't."

Her hand slid in mine, and I forced myself to calm down. Annabeth had mentioned something about Andromeda being exceptionally empathic. I don't doubt it.

Unmovingly, I watched as the entire frame shuddered. Black lightning flashed into the sky. The chains shook, and the Titans planted their feet on the hooks to keep them secure. The Doors slid open, revealing the gilded interior of an elevator car.

I tensed, but Andromeda kept her hand on mine. Right now, it was her field of expertise. She knew what she was doing. I calmed down.

Hyperion yelled to the surrounding crowd: "Group A-22! Hurry up, you sluggards!"

A dozen Cyclops rushed forward, waving little red tickets and shouting excitedly. They shouldn't have been able to fit inside those human-sized doors, but as the Cyclopes got close, their bodies distorted and shrank, the Doors of Death sucking them inside.

The Titan Krios jabbed his thumb against the up button on the elevator's right side. The Doors slid closed.

The frame shuddered again. Dark lightning faded.

"Nico made that mistake." Andromeda breathed. When I glanced back, I found her staring at me steadily. "He charged in without questioning it."

"Right…" Annabeth muttered from my side,almost guiltily. "From all that happened… I forgot about Nico."

I flinched. So did I. So focused on my sister, I forgot what she did to him. "What do you mean?"

"See, brother." She continued. "I will not take back the insults I threw at you at the beginning because part of it is true. Here, in Tartarus, you cannot simply charge in. It is the monsters' home terrain. Simply fighting won't work. You must learn what they do." She sighed, before continuing. "I regret what I did to Nico di Angelo." She admitted to us. "I tried to help, but our definitions of help weren't the same."

"Sephie…" she held up her hand. "No, Perseus, no. You can't."

"Andromeda, you are the best at having conversations at the wrong time." Annabeth marvelled.

"To me, time is meaningless." Andromeda said. Then, she turned back to me. "Since you two refuse to let me talk, I'll make this brief." Her hand tightened. "You must understand how the Doors work if you wish to use them yourself. I said nothing of this to Nico, and he never questioned it. If he did, he would've paused to think. He didn't, and I had to think of a new way to get him out of Tartarus. For you, there is no such thing. Those monsters? They will kill you and not spare you like they spared Nico."

"Andy is right." Bob said from where he stood. "The Doors aren't complicated to use, but you must know exactly how to use them. Each time the Doors open, they try to teleport to a new location. Thanatos made them this way, so only he could find them. But now they are chained. The Doors cannot relocate."

"Then we cut the chains," Annabeth whispered.

I looked back at Hyperion. Fat chance. The last time I had fought this Titan, it had taken every ounce of my strength and I had the help of the satyrs and had the protection of the Achilles heel. Now there were two Titans, with several thousand monsters for backup.

"Our camouflage," I said. "Will it disappear if we do something aggressive, like cutting the chains?"

"I do not know," Bob told his kitten.

"Mrow," said Small Bob.

"Bob, you'll have to distract them," Annabeth said. "Percy, Andromeda and I will sneak around the two Titans and cut the chains from behind."

"Yes, fine," Bob said. "But that is only one problem. Once you are inside the Doors, someone must stay outside to push the button and defend it."

I tried to swallow. "Uh… defend the button?"

Annabeth glanced at Andromeda. I really shouldn't sleep next time. It seems like all the important conversations happen when someone is asleep. "Someone… someone must press the UP button for twelve minutes?" Annabeth asked tentatively. "Damasen mentioned that. I think."

"Yes." Bob nodded. "If not, the journey will not finish."

I glanced at the Doors. Sure enough, Krios still had his thumb jammed on the UP button. Twelve minutes... Somehow, we would have to get the Titans away from those doors. Then one of us will have to keep the button pushed for twelve long minutes, in the middle of an army of monsters, in the heart of Tartarus, while the others rode back to the mortal world. It was impossible.

"Why twelve minutes?" It wasn't the most pressing, but I was curious.

"I do not know," Bob said. "Why twelve Olympians, or twelve Titans?"

"Fair enough," I said, though it was like I had just eaten a bittergourd.

"What do you mean the journey won't finish?" Annabeth asked. "What happens to the passengers?"

Bob and Andromeda seem to have their own silent conversation. I couldn't see my sister's expression but from Bob's, I decided it wasn't worth knowing.

"If we do push the button for twelve minutes," I said, "and the chains are cut—"

"The Doors should reset," Bob said. "That is what they are supposed to do. They will disappear from Tartarus. They will appear somewhere else, where Gaia cannot use them."

"Thanatos can reclaim them," Annabeth said. "Death goes back to normal, and the monsters lose their shortcut to the mortal world."

I exhaled. "Easy-peasy. Except for… well, everything."

I yelped again as Andromeda's elbow dug into my side. "What did I say, Percy?"

"Oh Gods can you stop doing that, Sephie!" I complained.

"Oh, I don't know, Mr I-used-to-put-hair-dye-in-our-mum's-shampoo." Andromeda retorted. Annabeth chortled. "Really, Percy?"

"How do you know that?" I whined despite it definitely not being the time.

"Percy, it became so frequent Mum basically banned you from going close to her hair lotions and shampoos." She raised her eyebrow. "Or do I have to remind you of all the times you whined and cried when Mum forbade you from doing so?"

I groaned as Annabeth high-fives her. Really? Of all the things she could still remember?

"I will push the button," Bob volunteered, fed up with our minds not being present.

That certainly pulled us back to reality. "Bob, we can't ask you to do that. You want to go through the Doors too. You want to see the sky again, and the stars, and—"

"I would like that," Bob agreed. "But someone must push the button. And once the chains are cut… my brethren will fight to stop your passage. They will not want the Doors to disappear."

"For the greater good, Percy, sacrifice is required." Andromeda whispered. "Let him do this."

"But I-" I cut myself off. Looking at the endless horde of monsters. Even if I let Bob make this sacrifice, how could one Titan defend himself against so many for twelve minutes, all while keeping his finger on a button? It was impossible.

The cement settled in my stomach. I had always suspected how this would end. I would have to stay behind. While Bob fended off the army, I would hold the elevator button and make sure Annabeth and Andromeda got to safety. They wouldn't be happy, but I would have to convince them. After all, like Andromeda said, sacrifice is required.

"Percy...?" Annabeth stared at me, a suspicious edge to her voice.

She was too smart. If I met her eyes, she would see exactly what I was thinking.

"First things first," I said, hefting Riptide. "Let's cut those chains."

"Brother," Andromeda waited until I met her gaze, "do not do anything I would disapprove of."

I had myself surrounded with way too smart women. Hey, I wasn't complaining.