Another chapter! This fic is catching up to Storm and Stone in word count. Speaking of, I'm probably gonna continue it in 1 or 2 weeks. Anyway, enjoy this 5500 word chap!

REYNA

The two metal greyhounds watched Reyna pace across the room. Their ruby eyes gleamed in the dim light, mirroring the intensity of Reyna's thoughts. She had just received unsettling news about Nico's memory loss, and the implications were troubling. As the praetor of Camp Jupiter, it was her responsibility to ensure the safety and stability of the camp, and an amnesiac demigod added another layer of complexity to an already precarious situation.

Speaking of troubling demigods…

Reyna groaned as she thought about Percy. She had tried not to think about him, but that was impossible. A son of Ceres, and a Greek!

She really just didn't know wha to think of him. She remembered the safety of Circe's island, the happiness that she had with Hylla. Reyna had blamed Percy, but was it really fair to? Wasn't he just trying to survive?

Perhaps it was time to reconsider her feelings toward him. After all, he had proven himself in battle, and his intentions seemed sincere, even if his methods sometimes clashed with Reyna's roman sensibilities.

But now was not the time to dwell on personal feelings. Reyna needed to focus on the task at hand: finding a solution to Nico's memory loss and ensuring the safety of Camp Jupiter. She needed to find out what exactly was going to happen on the Feast of Fortuna.

She stopped pacing for a second. The war games! How had she forgotten? Reyna rushed outside the principia towards the field of Mars.

PERCY

The Fifth Cohort formed two lines behind their centurions, Dakota and Gwen. They marched north, skirting the edge of the city, and headed to the Field of Mars - the largest, flattest part of the valley. The grass was cropped short by all the unicorns, bulls, and homeless fauns that grazed here.

The earth was pitted with explosion craters and scarred with trenches from past games. At the north end of the field stood their target. The engineers had built a stone fortress with an iron portcullis, guard towers, scorpion ballistae, water cannons, and no doubt many other nasty surprises for the defenders to use.

"They did a good job today," Hazel noted. "That's bad for us."

"Wait," Percy said. "You're telling me that fortress was built today?"

Hazel grinned. "Legionnaires are trained to build. If we had to, we could break down the entire camp and rebuild it somewhere else. Take maybe three or four days, but we could do it."

"Let's not," Percy said. "So you attack a different fort every night?"

"Not every night," Frank said. "We have different training exercises. Sometimes death ball - um, which is like paint-ball, except with…you know, poison and acid and fire balls. Sometimes we do chariots and gladiator competitions, sometimes war games."

Percy's eyes lit up. "You have to let me play death ball."

Hazel pointed at the fort. "Somewhere inside, the First and Second Cohorts are keeping their banners. Our job is to get inside and capture them without getting slaughtered. We do that, we win."

Percy's eyes lit up. "Like Capture the Flag. I like Capture the Flag."

Frank laughed. "Yeah, well…it's harder than it sounds. We have to get past those scorpions and water cannons on the walls, fight through the inside of the fortress, find the banners, and defeat the guards, all while protecting our own banners and troops from capture. And our cohort is in competition with the other two attacking cohorts. We sort of work together, but not really. The cohort that captures the banners gets all the glory."

Percy stumbled, trying to keep time with the left-right marching rhythm.

"So why are we practicing this, anyway?" Percy asked. "Do you guys spend a lot of time laying siege to fortified cities?"

"Teamwork," Hazel said. "Quick thinking. Tactics. Battle skills. You'd be surprised what you can learn in the war games."

"Like who will stab you in the back," Frank said.

"Especially that," Hazel agreed.

They marched towards the centre of the Field of Mars and formed ranks. The Third and Fourth Cohorts assembled as far as possible from the Fifth. The centurions for the attacking side gathered for a conference. In the sky above them, Reyna circled on her pegasus, Scipio, ready to play referee.

Half a dozen giant eagles flew in formation behind her - prepared for ambulance airlift duty if necessary. The only person not participating in the game was Nico di Angelo who had climbed an observation tower about a hundred yards from the fort and would be watching with binoculars.

Frank propped his pilum against his shield and checked Percy's armour. Every strap was correct. Every piece of armour was properly adjusted.

"You did it right," he said in amazement. "Percy, you must've participated in war games before."

Percy grinned. "Maybe.

The only thing that wasn't regulation was Percy's glowing gold scythe - not a sword, and definitely not a roman weapon. It had engravings on the hilt. Messor Mortis. Reaper of Death.

He saw Frank staring at the scythe. Percy frowned. "We can use real weapons, right?"

"Yeah," Frank agreed. "For sure. I've just never seen a weapon like that."

"What if I hurt somebody?"

"We heal them," Frank said. "Or try to. The legion medics are pretty good with ambrosia and nectar, and unicorn draught."

"No one dies," Hazel said. "Well, not usually. And if they do-"

Frank imitated the voice of Vitellius: "They're wimps! Back on my day, we died all the time, and we liked it!"

Hazel laughed. "Just stay with us, Percy. Chances are we'll get the worst duty and get eliminated early. They'll throw us at the walls first to soften up the defences. Then the Third and Fourth Cohorts will march in and get the honours, if they can even breach the fort."

Horns blew. Dakota and Gwen walked back from the officers' conference, looking grim.

"All right, here's the plan!" Dakota took a quick swig of Kool-Aid from his travel flask. "They're throwing us at the walls first to soften up the defences."

The whole cohort groaned.

"I know, I know," Gwen said. "But maybe this time we'll have some luck!"

Leave it to Gwen to be the optimist. Everybody liked her because she took care of her people and tried to keep their spirits up. She could even control Dakota during his hyperactive bug-juice fits. Still, the campers grumbled and complained. Nobody believed in luck for the Fifth.

"First line with Dakota," Gwen said. "Lock shields and advance in turtle formation to the main gates. Try to stay in one piece. Draw their fire. Second line-" Gwen turned to Frank's row without much enthusiasm. "You seventeen, from Bobby over, take charge of the elephant and the scaling ladders. Try a flanking attack on the western wall. Maybe we can spread the defenders too thin. Frank, Hazel, Percy… well, just do whatever. Show Percy the ropes. Try to keep him alive."

She turned back to the whole cohort. "If anybody gets over the wall first, I'll make sure you get the Mural Crown. Victory for the Fifth!"

The cohort cheered half heartedly and broke ranks.

Percy frowned. "'Do whatever?'"

"Yeah," Hazel sighed. "Big vote of confidence."

"What's the Mural Crown?" he asked.

"Military medal," Frank said. He'd been forced to memorise all the possible awards. "Big honour for the first soldier to breach an enemy fort. You'll notice nobody in the Fifth is wearing one. Usually we don't even get into the fort because we're burning or drowning or…"

He faltered, and looked at Percy. "Water cannons."

"What?" Percy asked.

"The cannons on the walls," Frank said, "they draw water from the aqueduct. There's a pump system- heck, I don't know how they work, but they're under a lot of pressure. If you could control them, like you controlled the river-"

"Frank!" Hazel beamed. "That's brilliant!"

Percy didn't look so sure. "I'm not sure I can control the cannons from this far away."

"We'll get you closer." Frank pointed to the eastern wall of the fort, where the Fifth Cohort wouldn't be attacking. "That's where the defence will be weakest. They'll never take three kids seriously. I think we can sneak up pretty close before they see us."

"Sneak up how?" Percy asked.

Frank turned to Hazel. "Can you do that thing again?"

She poked him in the chest. "You said you wouldn't tell anybody!"

Immediately Frank looked like he had made the worst mistake of his life.

Hazel muttered under her breath. "Never mind. It's fine. Percy, he's talking about the trenches. The Field of Mars is riddled with tunnels from over the years. Some are collapsed, or buried deep, but a lot of them are still passable. I'm pretty good at finding them and using them. I can even collapse them if I have to."

"Like you did with the gorgons," Percy said, "to slow them down."

Frank nodded approvingly. "I told you Pluto was cool. He's the god of everything under the earth. Hazel can find caves, tunnels, trapdoors- and it was our secret," she grumbled.

Frank started blushing. "Yeah, sorry. But if we can get close—"

"And if I can knock out the water cannons…" Percy nodded, like he was warming to the idea. "What do we do then?"

"You and Hazel can control the earth. Distract them."

"Then?"

"The rest is up to me," he said.

FRANK

Frank was so confident tonight, which made him nervous. Nothing he planned ever went right. He always managed to break, ruin, burn, sit on, or knock over something important. Yet he just knew this strategy would work.

Frank checked his quiver. He always stocked up on special arrows. He'd never gotten to use them before, but maybe tonight was the he could finally do something good enough to get his father's attention.

Hazel found them a tunnel with no problem. In fact, Frank had a sneaking suspicion she didn't just find tunnels. It was as though tunnels manufactured themselves to suit her needs. Passages that had been filled in years ago suddenly unfilled, changing direction to lead Hazel where she wanted to go. They crept along by the light of Percy's glowing scythe, Messor Mortis. Above, they heard the sounds of battle - kids shouting, Hannibal the elephant trumpeting with glee, bolts exploding, and water cannons firing. The tunnel shook. Dirt rained down on them.

Frank slipped his hand inside his armour. The piece of wood was still safe and secure in his coat pocket, though one good shot from a scorpion might set his lifeline on fire.…

Bad Frank, he chided himself. Fire is a bad word. Don't think about it.

"There's an opening just ahead," Hazel announced. "We'll come up ten feet from the east wall."

"How can you tell?" Percy asked.

"I don't know," she said. "But I'm sure."

"Could we tunnel straight under the wall?" Frank wondered.

"No," Hazel said. "The engineers were smart. They built the walls on old foundations that go down to bedrock. And don't ask how I know. I just do."

Frank stumbled over something and cursed. Percy brought this sword around for more light. The thing Frank had tripped on was gleaming silver.

He crouched down.

"Don't touch it!" Hazel said.

Frank's hand stopped a few inches from the chunk of metal. It looked like a giant Hershey's Kiss, about the size of his fist.

"It's massive," he said. "Silver?"

"Platinum." Hazel sounded scared out of her wits. "It'll go away in a second. Please don't touch it. It's dangerous."

Frank didn't understand how a lump of metal could be dangerous, but he took Hazel seriously. As they watched, the chunk of platinum sank into the ground.

He stared at Hazel. "How did you know?"

In the light of Percy's scythe, Hazel looked as ghostly as a Lar. "I'll explain later," she promised.

Another explosion rocked the tunnel, and they forged ahead.

They popped out of a hole just where Hazel had predicted. In front of them, the fort's east wall loomed. Off to their left, Frank could see the main line of the Fifth Cohort advancing in turtle formation, shields forming a shell over their heads and sides. They were trying to reach the main gates, but the defenders above pelted them with rocks and shot flaming bolts from the scorpions, blasting craters around their feet. A water cannon discharged with a jaw-rattling SPLASH, and a jet of liquid carved a trench in the dirt right in front of the cohort.

Percy whistled. "That's a lot of pressure, all right."

The Third and Fourth Cohorts weren't even advancing. They stood back and laughed, watching their supposed "allies" get beat up. The defenders clustered on the wall above the gates, yelling insults at the tortoise formation as it staggered back and forth. War games had deteriorated into "beat up the Fifth."

Frank's vision went red with anger.

"Let's shake things up." He reached in his quiver and pulled out an arrow heavier than the rest. The iron tip was shaped like the nose cone of a rocket. An ultra thin gold rope trailed from the fletching. Shooting it accurately up the wall would take more force and skill than most archers could manage, but Frank had strong arms and good aim.

Maybe Apollo is watching, he thought hopefully.

"What does that do?" Percy asked. "Grappling hook?"

"It's called a hydra arrow," Frank said. "Can you knock out the water cannons?"

A defender appeared on the wall above them. "Hey!" he shouted to his buddies. "Check it out! More victims!"

"Percy," Frank said, "now would be good."

More kids came across the battlements to laugh at them. A few ran to the nearest water cannon and swung the barrel toward Frank.

Percy closed his eyes. He raised his hand.

Up on the wall, somebody yelled, "Open wide, losers!"

KA-BOOM! The cannon exploded in a starburst of blue, green, and white. Defenders screamed as a watery shock wave flattened them against the battlements. Kids toppled over the walls but were snatched by giant eagles and carried to safety. Then the entire eastern wall shuddered as the explosion backed up through the pipelines. One after another, the water cannons on the battlements exploded. The scorpions' fires were doused. Defenders scattered in confusion or were tossed through the air, giving the rescue eagles quite a workout. At the main gates, the Fifth Cohort forgot about their formation. Mystified, they lowered their shields and stared at the chaos.

Frank shot his arrow. It streaked upward, carrying its glittering rope. When it reached the top, the metal point fractured into a dozen lines that lashed out and wrapped around anything they could find—parts of the wall, a scorpion, a broken water cannon, and a couple of defending campers, who yelped and found themselves slammed against the battlements as anchors. From the main rope, handholds extended at two-foot intervals, making a ladder.

"Go!" Frank said.

Percy grinned. "You first, Frank. This is your party."

Frank hesitated. Then he slung his bow on his back and began to climb. He was halfway up before the defenders recovered their senses enough to sound the alarm.

Frank glanced back at Fifth Cohort's main group. They were staring up at him, dumbfounded.

"Well?" Frank screamed. "Attack!"

Gwen was the first to unfreeze. She grinned and repeated the order. A cheer went up from the battlefield. Hannibal the elephant trumpeted with happiness, but Frank couldn't afford to watch. He clambered to the top of the wall, where three defenders were trying to hack down his rope ladder.

One good thing about being big, clumsy, and clad in metal:Frank was like a heavily armoured bowling ball. He launched himself at the defenders, and they toppled like pins. Frank got to his feet. He took command of the battlements, sweeping his pilum back and forth and knocking down defenders. Some shot arrows. Some tried to get under his guard with their swords, but Frank felt unstoppable. Then Hazel appeared next to him, swinging her big cavalry sword like she was born for battle.

Percy leaped onto the wall and raised Messor Mortis. "This is fun!" he said.

Together they cleared the defenders off the walls. Below them the gates broke. Hannibal barrelled into the fort, arrows and rocks bouncing harmlessly off his kevlar armour.

The Fifth Cohort charged in behind the elephant, and the battle went hand-to-hand.

Finally, from the edge of the Field of Mars, a battle cry went up. The Third and Fourth Cohorts ran to join the fight.

"A little late," Hazel grumbled.

"We can't let them get the banners," Frank said.

"No," Percy agreed. "Those are ours."

No more talk was necessary. They moved like a team, as if the three of them had been working together for years. They rushed down the interior steps and into the enemy base.

Frank, Percy, and Hazel waded through the enemy, plowing down anyone who stood in their way. The First and Second Cohorts - pride of Camp Jupiter, a well-oiled, highly disciplined war machine - fell apart under the assault and the sheer novelty of being on the losing side.

Part of their problem was Percy. He fought like a demon, whirling through the defenders' ranks in a completely unorthodox style, rolling under their feet, slashing with his scythe instead of stabbing like a Roman would, whacking campers with the flat of his blade, and generally causing mass panic. Octavian screamed in a shrill voice - maybe ordering the First Cohort to stand their ground, maybe trying to sing soprano - but Percy put a stop to it. He jumped over a line of shields and slammed the butt of his scythe into Octavian's helmet. The centurion collapsed like a sock puppet.

Frank shot arrows until his quiver was empty, using blunt-tipped missiles that wouldn't kill but left some nasty bruises. He broke his pilum over a defender's head, then reluctantly drew his gladius.

Meanwhile, Hazel climbed onto Hannibal's back. She charged toward the center of the fort, grinning down at her friends. "Let's go, slowpokes!"

Gods of Olympus, she's beautiful, Frank thought.

You can admire Hazel later! Frank chided himself.

They ran to the centre of the base. The inner keep was virtually unguarded. Obviously the defenders never dreamed an assault would get this far. Hannibal busted down the huge doors. Inside, the First and Second Cohort standard-bearers were sitting around a table playing Mythomagic with cards and figurines. The cohort's emblems were propped carelessly against one wall.

Hazel and Hannibal rode straight into the room, and the standard-bearers fell backward out of their chairs. Hannibal stepped on the table, and game pieces scattered.

By the time the rest of the cohort caught up with them, Percy and Frank had disarmed the enemies, grabbed the banners, and climbed onto Hannibal's back with Hazel. They marched out of the keep triumphantly with the enemy colours.

The Fifth Cohort formed ranks around them. Together they paraded out of the fort, past stunned enemies and lines of equally mystified allies.

Reyna circled low overhead on her pegasus. "The game is won!" She sounded as if she were trying not to laugh. "Assemble for honours!"

Slowly the campers regrouped on the Field of Mars. Frank saw plenty of minor injuries - some burns, broken bones, black eyes, cuts and gashes, plus a lot of very interesting hairdos from fires and exploding water cannons- but nothing that couldn't be fixed.

He slid off the elephant. His comrades swarmed him, pounding him on the back and complimenting him. Frank wondered if he was dreaming. It was the best night of his life—until he saw Gwen.

"Help!" somebody yelled. A couple of campers rushed out of the fortress, carrying a girl on a stretcher. They set her down, and other kids started running over. Even from a distance, Frank could tell it was Gwen. She was in bad shape. She lay on her side on the stretcher with a pilum sticking out of her armour - almost like she was holding it between her chest and her arm, but there was too much blood.

Frank shook his head in disbelief. "No, no, no…" he muttered as he ran to her side.

The medics barked at everyone to stand back and give her air. The whole legion fell silent as the healers worked—trying to get gauze and powdered unicorn horn under Gwen's armour to stop the bleeding, trying to force some nectar into her mouth. Gwen didn't move. Her face was ashen grey.

Finally one of the medics looked up at Reyna and shook his head.

For a moment, there was no sound except water from the ruined cannons trickling down the walls of the fort. Hannibal nuzzled Gwen's hair with his trunk.

Reyna surveyed the campers from her pegasus. Her expression was as hard and dark as iron. "There will be an investigation. Whoever did this, you cost the legion a good officer. Honourable death is one thing, but this ... "

Frank wasn't sure what she meant. Then he noticed the marks engraved in the wooden shaft of the pilum. The weapon belonged to the First Cohort, and the point was sticking out the front of her armour. Gwen had been speared from behind - possibly after the game had ended.

Frank scanned the crowd for Octavian. The centurion was watching with more interest than concern, as if he were examining one of his stupid gutted teddy bears. He didn't have a pilum.

Blood roared in Frank's ears. He wanted to strangle Octavian with his bare hands, but at that moment, Gwen gasped.

Everyone stepped back. Gwen opened her eyes. The colour came back to her face.

"Wh-what is it?" She blinked. "What's everyone staring at?" She didn't seem to notice the seven-foot harpoon sticking out through her chest.

Behind Frank, a medic whispered, "There's no way. She was dead. She has to be dead."

Gwen tried to sit up, but couldn't. "There was a river, and a man asking… for a denarii? I turned around and the exit door was open. So I just… I just left. I don't understand. What's happened?"

Everyone stared at her in horror. Nobody tried to help.

"Gwen." Frank knelt next to her. "Don't try to get up. Just close your eyes for a second, okay?"

"Why? What—"

"Just trust me."

Gwen did what he asked.

Frank grabbed the shaft of the pilum below its tip, but his hands were shaking. The wood was slick. "Percy, Hazel- help me."

One of the medics realized what he was planning. "Don't!" he said. "You might-"

"What?" Hazel snapped. "Make it worse?"

Frank took a deep breath. "Hold her steady. One, two, three!"

He pulled the pilum out from the front. Gwen didn't even wince. The blood stopped quickly.

Hazel bent down to examine the wound. "It's closing on its own," she said. "I don't know how, but—"

"I feel fine," Gwen protested. "What's everyone worried about?"

With Frank and Percy's help, she got to her feet. Frank glowered at Octavian, but the centurion's face was a mask of polite concern.

Later, Frank thought. Deal with him later.

"Gwen," Hazel said gently, "there's no easy way to say this. You were dead. Somehow you came back."

"I…what?" She stumbled against Frank. Her hand pressed against the ragged hole in her armour. "How?"

"Good question." Reyna turned to Nico, who was watching grimly from the edge of the crowd. "Is this some power of Pluto?"

Nico shook his head. "Pluto never lets people return from the dead."

He glanced at Hazel as if warning her to stay quiet. Frank wondered what that was about, but he didn't have time to think about it.

A thunderous voice rolled across the field: Death loses its hold. This is only the beginning.

Campers drew weapons. Hannibal trumpeted nervously. Scipio reared, almost throwing Reyna.

"I know that voice," Percy said. He didn't sound pleased.

In the midst of the legion, a column of fire blasted into the air. Heat seared Frank's eyelashes. Campers who had been soaked by the cannons found their clothes instantly steam-dried. Everyone scrambled backward as a huge soldier stepped out of the explosion.

Frank didn't have much hair, but what he did have stood straight up. The soldier was ten feet tall, dressed in Canadian Forces desert camouflage. He radiated confidence and power. His black hair was cut in a flat-topped wedge like Frank's. His face was angular and brutal, marked with old knife scars. His eyes were covered with infrared goggles that glowed from inside. He wore a utility belt with a sidearm, a knife holster, and several grenades. In his hands was an oversized M16 rifle.

The worst thing was that Frank felt drawn to him. As everyone else stepped back, Frank stepped forward. He realised the soldier was silently willing him to approach.

Frank desperately wanted to run away and hide, but he couldn't. He took three more steps. Then he sank to one knee.

The other campers followed his example and knelt. Even Reyna dismounted.

"That's good," the soldier said. "Kneeling is good. It's been a long time since I've visited Camp Jupiter."

Frank noticed that one person wasn't kneeling. Percy Jackson, his scythe still in hand, was glaring at the giant soldier.

"You're Ares," Percy said. "What do you want?"

A collective gasp went up from two hundred campers and an elephant. Frank wanted to say something to excuse Percy and placate the god, but he didn't know what. He was afraid the war god would blast his new friend with that extra-large M16.

Instead, the god bared his brilliant white teeth.

"You've got spunk, demigod," he said. "Ares is my Greek form. But to these followers, to the children of Rome, I am Mars - patron of the empire, divine father of Romulus and Remus."

"Don't play dumb Ares."

"I am not Greek here. But I assure you - you've never fought me as Mars. If you had, you'd be dead. Now, kneel, as befits a child of Rome, before you try my patience."

Around Mars's feet, the ground boiled in a circle of flame.

"Percy," Frank said, "please."

Percy clearly didn't like it, but he knelt.

Mars scanned the crowd. "Romans, lend me your ears!" He laughed - a good, hearty bellow, so infectious it almost made Frank smile, though he was still shivering with fear. "I've always wanted to say that. I come from Olympus with a message. Jupiter doesn't like us communicating directly with mortals, especially nowadays, but he has allowed this exception, as you Romans have always been my special people. I'm only permitted to speak for a few minutes, so listen up."

He pointed at Gwen. "This one should be dead, yet she's not. The monsters you fight no longer return to Tartarus when they are slain. Some mortals who died long ago are now walking the earth again."

Was it Frank's imagination, or did the god glare at Nico di Angelo?

"Thanatos has been chained," Mars announced. "The Doors of Death have been forced open, and no one is policing them—at least, not impartially. Gaea allows our enemies to pour forth into the world of mortals. Her sons the giants are mustering armies against you—armies that you will not be able to kill. Unless Death is unleashed to return to his duties, you will be overrun. You must find Thanatos and free him from the giants. Only he can reverse the tide."

Mars looked around, and noticed that everyone was still silently kneeling. "Oh, you can get up now. Any questions?"

Reyna rose uneasily. She approached the god, followed by Octavian, who was bowing and scraping like a champion groveller.

"Lord Mars," Reyna said, "we are honoured."

"Beyond honoured," said Octavian. "So far beyond honoured-"

"Well?" Mars snapped.

"Well," Reyna said, "Thanatos is the god of death, the lieutenant of Pluto?"

"Right," the god said.

"And you're saying that he's been captured by giants."

"Right."

"And therefore people will stop dying?"

"Not all at once," Mars said. "But the barriers between life and death will continue to weaken. Those who know how to take advantage of this will exploit it. Monsters are already harder to dispatch. Soon they will be completely impossible to kill. Some demigods will also be able to find their way back from

the Underworld - like your friend Centurion shish kebab."

Gwen winced. "Centurion shish kebab?"

"If left unchecked," Mars continued, "even mortals will eventually find it impossible to die. Can you imagine a world in which no one dies?"

Octavian raised his hand. "But, ah, mighty all-powerful Lord Mars, if we can't die, isn't that a good thing? If we can stay alive indefinitely-"

"Don't be foolish, boy!" Mars bellowed. "Endless slaughter with no conclusion? Carnage without any point? Enemies that rise again and again and can never be killed? Is that what you want?"

"Isn't that what you want?" Percy said.

"Perhaps I have fought you before. I can understand why I'd want to kill you. I'm the god of Rome, child. I am the god of military might used for a righteous cause. I protect the legions. I am happy to crush my enemies underfoot, but I don't fight without reason. I don't want war without end. You will discover this. You will serve me."

"Not likely," Percy said. He pulled out a ballpoint pen. "This look familiar?"

"I could literally turn you into a tapeworm. Or send a boar after you."

Percy grinned. "Old threats man. Think of some new ones."

Again, Frank waited for the god to strike him down, but Mars just grinned like they were two old buddies talking trash.

"I order a quest!" the god announced. "You will go north and find Thanatos in the land beyond the gods. You will free him and thwart the plans of the giants. Beware Gaea! Beware her son, the eldest giant!"

Next to Frank, Hazel made a squeaking sound. "The land beyond the gods?"

Mars stared down at her, his grip tightening on his M16. "That's right, Hazel Levesque. You know what I mean. Everyone here remembers the land where the legion lost its honour! Perhaps if the quest succeeds, and you return by the Feast of Fortuna… perhaps then your honour will be restored. If you don't succeed, there won't be any camp left to return to. Rome will be overrun, its legacy lost forever. So my advice is: Don't fail."

Octavian somehow managed to bow even lower. "Um, Lord Mars, just one tiny thing. A quest requires a prophecy, a mystical poem to guide us! We used to get them from the Sibylline books, but now it's up to the augur to glean the will of gods. So if I could just run and get about seventy stuffed animals and possibly a knife-"

"You're the augur?" the god interrupted.

"Y-yes, my lord."

"Look under the statue of my father, Jupiter Maximus. There you will find the prophecy." Mars turned to the rest of the legion. "You must free death! DO NOT FAIL ME!"

Frank looked at Percy, who was talking to Reyna. Funny thing was, he looked more scared then when Mars was threatening him. Reyna pointed at Percy. "Come to the principia. Now."

Frank noticed Mars beckoning him over. "Come here son."

The demigod did what any reasonable person would do: He fainted.

PERCY

Percy followed Reyna to the principia, his mind still reeling from the encounter with Mars. The gravity of the situation weighed heavily on him as he entered the command centre of Camp Jupiter.

Reyna stood at the head of the room, her expression unreadable. Percy couldn't help but feel a sense of trepidation as he approached her. Whatever was about to happen, he knew it wouldn't be good.

"Sit," Reyna commanded, gesturing to a chair opposite her.

Percy complied, taking a seat and bracing himself for whatever was to come.

"Did you just threaten the god of war with a pen?"

Percy resisted the urge to laugh. "Hey, it can literally turn into a sword. Its a cool pen."

Reyna frowned. "But I never gave it back to you after the Venti. How did you have it?"

"Magic."

"This isn't a time for games Percy."

"I'm not joking! Its literally enchanted to return to me!"

Reyna pinched the bridge of her nose. "Ok, but I need answers. How did you and Mars-"

"Ares, not Mars."

"Alright, how did you and Ares meet?"

"He tried to kill me and steal Jupiter's master bolt."

"WHAT?"

Percy winced at the sound of her reaction. "It's a long story."

"Well, Percy Jackson, we have a lot of time. You," She poked him in the chest. "Are going to tell me everything.

Percy gulped.

So... how was it? I know, I know, switching POV'S a lot is annoying. I'll try to stop. Anyway, reviews are welcome, and criticism sought after. Also, please please please give a pairing suggestion for Nico. I NEED IT!

Time for... REVIEW. RESPONSES!

Zukaikufan: I mean, if more people agree with you, then I will.

Apathetic God: Thanks! Yeah, my pacing needs work lmao. But anyway, thanks for the critique!

DARK WRAITH 2001: Yeah lmao, I noticed after I published the chapter.

Guest: Probably should have done that. Thanks!

Guest 2: Yeah, I get what you mean. Sadly, no Percy and Nico pairing.

Responses over! Review, criticise, and share your thoughts! Over and out!