Mercurius settled into his throne because if he couldn't have Lea at his side, then he was going to need something to distract him. While the children at Camp Half Blood were hosting an impromptu game of Capture the Flag, Camp Jupiter were preparing for their war games.

Truthfully all of that meant that Mercurius was in charge of the betting pool, and he was able to participate again since Lea wasn't there for him to bet all his money on.

On the Camp Half-Blood screen, Drew was playing referee with an actual outfit on while her siblings cheerfully threatened Ethan from where he was sitting on the sidelines with them.

On Camp Jupiter's screen, the children were enjoying their dinner. "This makes me happy," Percy was saying, drinking a blue-colored soda. He had a cheeseburger sitting at his side that Medea was eyeing as if she didn't have a plate filled to the brim with spaghetti and meatballs. "I don't know why...but it does."

"An inside joke with your Mom from what I can remember," Medea explained as an aurae topped off Percy's glass. "I'm so used to it so I can't remember how it started but you laid claim to the color blue and Lea has green."

The two of them were sitting with Magnus, Nico, and Līber's son, Dakota, at the back of the dining hall next to the kitchen. Mercurius could see Octavian and Lilith casting glances at the table like they were going to join. The boy because of his blessing and Lilith because she liked to scare new recruits with tarot readings. The god sighed. Lea would have loved it. Probably. With Medea and Percy at her sides, she would have but by herself? Not likely. But the way that the laughter echoed off the walls and the war banners rustled from cedar ceiling beams as aurae blew back and forth, keeping everyone's plates full. Kids were constantly getting up and trading places on the couches around low tables, spreading rumors about who liked whom and all the other gossip.

Drew would love it. It was basically information central, and Mercurius knew that if Octavin wasn't so distracted by Percy's presence then he would be right in the middle of it.

"So." Dakota burped, waving his goblet. "Welcome to the Percy, party." He frowned. "Party, Percy. Whatever."

"Just like his Father," Cerēs tsked. Līber looked up from where he was slurping the margarita in his hand, blinking at the looks that he received.

"Um, thanks," Percy said, but his attention was focused on Nico and the couple. "I was wondering if we could talk, you know… about more of my memories."

"That's right," Dakota blinked. "You know him."

"We went to school together before," Medea stated quickly. "And Magnus goes to school with him now."

"I've seen him from time to time," Nico shrugged. "But you know… I also spend most of my time in the Underworld. So unless I met you there somehow—"

Dakota belched. "Ambassador from Pluto, they call him. Reyna's never sure what to do with this guy when he visits. You should have seen her face when he showed up with the letters right from his Father. Um, no offense."

"None taken." Nico smirked.

"Mind if we join," Octavian asked, appearing behind Percy with Lilith, Pranjal, and Daniele at his sides. They paid no mind to the looks that they were receiving from the other campers.

"Sure," Medea smiled, watching the way Octavian and Percy both flushed as he sat down. "Percy, you've met Octavian, but this is Lilith Nadia Star and that's Daniele Campbell and Pranjal Gupta."

"Your soulmates." Percy noted, eyeing the last two. Magnus and Medea flushed, but nodded their heads.

"Yeah," Magnus replied. "Just like Octavian and my cousin are yours."

"Your cousin," Percy asked while the other legionaries turned to Octavian who turned an even deeper shade of red.

"Yeah. I'll have to contact her later to let her know that we found you," Magnus stated casually while Nico could have burned holes into his face. "But it also depends on where she's at. Her signal gets spotty so you know."

Percy was about to ask something else when his attention was captured by the aurae placing a cafe con leche in front of Lilith alongside soe pan de bono to dip it in. "I… I've had that before?"

"You're a long way from home," Medea nodded. "You grew up in the Little Dominican Republic up in New York. A few puerto ricans live there also so you grew up around them. Lea once dared you to drink nothing but the coffee for a month and well… it was horrible for your adhd."

Lilith smiled a bit bitterly. "I prefer menudo. A soup made with cow's stomach in broth with a red chili pepper base, but I have a feeling that if I had it that it would give me enough strength to not pour it over the head of our esteemed leader."

Octavian sighed from where he twirled chicken alfredo. "What happened this time?"

"Same old, same old," Lilith dismissed, pulling out her tarot cards. "Nothing I haven't heard before."

"You know how to use those," Percy asked, watching as she shuffled them. Lilith nodded with a small smirk. "The best at camp for it. It's why Octavian here is training me up to take over his duties for when he retires." The aforementioned boy rolled his eyes. "Why? You want a reading?"

"I'll take one," Medea cut in. Good. There was no telling what the cards would have told the child of Venus.

"Careful, Medea," the son of Troy warned. "The cards never lie and she holds nothing back."

"I can take it," Medea sniffed. "I'm trained in them too."

Lilith smirked. "Not like I am."

Medea paused as the daughter of Venus laid her cards flat. "No, not like you."

"Medea Williams. Born March 31st. 03:31 am. Sun sign is Aries like me." She tapped her fingers on the table. "Aries… Aries… Aries…. We have lessons surrounding initiative, action, reaction, defending one's values and knowing when these things are appropriate. We have strong wills, but we have to learn what to do with it. Sometimes we become too stubborn, too passive or too aggressive. Sometimes we get confused on how to stand up for ourselves because we grew up around very selfish people. In some cases we have to help raise siblings because of our parents' selfishness—" She turned her gaze onto Medea as if looking into her soul. "Or our siblings can be assholes towards us." Looking back down at the cards, she continued on. "The point is, selfishness is a major theme in our upbringing. We have challenges. To figure out how to grow from that energy and understand the need for self preservation and independence but how to make sure it's not to our downfall or to the detriment of others like say… not overthrowing our dear praetor at such a turbulent time."

She was really bitter about that, Mercurius noted.

"See I have to get into a place where I have to learn how to support my own happiness without sabotaging my relationships with other people like our esteemed leader by making her happiness my only priority."

"You're supposed to be giving a reading," Octavian cut in. "Not your diary entry." he said like an asshole. Yeah, he really was one of Apollō's.

Lilith flipped him off before giving Medea an apologetic look. "Sorry. One sec—" She shuffled her cards again, pouring her intent into them before spreading them back out. "Well, you've been feeling a lot of pressure over the last few months and things are coming to a head. Brace yourself. Whatever you've been putting your energy into has created new pathways. Ironic given that your mother is the goddess of crossroads. Anyway, this period is going to show you the direction life is headed in." She set her cards aside before looking at Medea. "Also, some advice: dumb bitches don't last at the top. Knowing how to fight is ok, knowing how to win is better. Know where you're strong, know where you're weak and know where you're dumb. That makes you wise."

"You sound like my friend, Drew." Medea grumbled before smiling at her. "Thank you though." From across the room, a faun yelled, "Dakota!" making his way over to their table quickly despite the fact that fauns weren't allowed in camp. "Say, new kid, you going to eat that?" he asked as he leaned over their couches and checked out their food.

Percy frowned. "Aren't fauns vegetarian?"

"Not the cheeseburger, man! The plate!" He sniffed Percy's hair. "Hey...what's that smell?"

"Don!" Medea said. "Don't be rude."

"No, man, I just—"

Their house god Vitellius shimmered into existence, standing half embedded in Magnus's couch. "Fauns in the dining hall! What are we coming to? Centurion Dakota, do your duty!"

"I am," Dakota grumbled into his goblet. "I'm having dinner!"

"Back off a bit," Octavian smiled charmingly, the warmth of the sun in his eyes. "He's not doing any harm, Vitellius. I'm keeping an eye on him."

"Oh, well," the ghost seemingly blushed. Not that it was surprising. The boy took after Apollō a lot, and Mercurius' brother was beautiful. Percy agreed with the way that he stared at the son of Troy's smile, batting Don, the faun, away absently.

"Man, you've got an empathy link with a faun!"

"Oh?" Octavian asked as Percy leaned away from him.

"What's that," Daniele questioned.

"An empathy link! It's real faint, like somebody's suppressed it, but—"

"I know what!" Nico stood suddenly. "Medea, how about we give you all time to get Percy oriented? Dakota, Octavian, and I can visit the praetor's table. Pranjal, Don and Vitellius, you come too. We can discuss strategies for the war games."

"Strategies for losing?" Dakota muttered that had Octavian and Daniele snickering since they were from the First Cohort.

"Death Boy is right!" Vitellius said. "This legion fights worse than we did in Judea, and that was the first time we lost our eagle. Why, if I were in charge—"

"Could I just eat the silverware first?" Don asked. Līber sighed, chugging a new bottle of vodka.

"Let's go!" Nico stood and grabbed Don and Vitellius by the ears. The spirit spluttered with outrage as he was dragged off to the praetor's table.

"Ow!" Don protested. "Man, watch the 'fro!"

"Come on, you guys!" Nico called over his shoulder. The centurions stood reluctantly, and Octavian turned his dazzling eyes upon Percy, brushing his hand against the boy's shoulder and drawing him further into his orbit like the planets around the sun. "Back soon."

"What was that about?" Percy asked. "And what's wrong with Dakota?"

Magnus sighed. "He's okay. He's a son of Liber, the wine god. He's got a drinking problem."

Percy's eyes widened. "You let him drink wine?"

"Gods, no!" Daniele said. "That would be a disaster. He's addicted to red Kool-Aid. Drinks it with three times the normal sugar, and he's already ADHD—you know, attention deficit/hyperactive. One of these days, his head is going to explode."

"It was worse a few years back," Medea confessed, "But Pranjal purged all of it from his system and knocked him into a coma and set him up on a restriction plan to save his life. Dakota's been testing the boundaries for the past few months since Pranjal's been distracted, but well…."

"We help Pranjal keep him in line," Magnus shrugged. When Percy raised a brow, Daniele snickered into their salad. "They magically switch his drinks out for other things. Water, grape juice, apple juice, milk. Hannibal's pee that one time he got made a grande size cup of kool aid. That kept him from drinking it for like three months."

"It got his adhd to resemble normal adhd and not something straight out of a horror movie and that's saying something since adhd is different for everybody."

"ADHD," Percy said as he looked over at the praetor's table. Mercurius had a feeling that he wasn't watching the senior officers speak to Reyna or even watching Dakota running back and forth along a line of stack shields and banging his goblet on them. No, Mercurius was sure that his attention was more so on Octavian who was leaning on the table in a way that showed off the long expanse of his back and the curse of his ass. He was drawing a lot of attention from within the throne room and the camp, and Apollō was one second away from drawing his bow. "You don't say."

"Well...most demigods are. Or dyslexic," Medea shrugged. "Just being a demigod means that our brains are wired differently. I should have realized that you and Lea were demigods from that alone but then again, not everyone with adhd or dyslexia are demigods."

"You're that way too?" Percy asked.

"I am, but some people get lucky like Magnus over here and is neither."

The son of Cerēs shrugged. "Can't help it if I got the good gene pool." he looked at Percy. "But I'm also sort of a legacy kid. A legacy of mom at that." he scrunched his nose. "I have more godly blood in me to nullify it, I guess. It's not exact science. Marge is adhd and she's a legacy demigod. Octavian is dyslexic and adhd and well… there is his everything."

"Okay, so tell me," Percy said, "why is it bad to be in the Fifth Cohort?"

There was a silence before Lilith sighed. "Unlucky Five, that's its nickname. That's a story that goes back decades." She pointed to the back wall, where the legion's standards were on display. "See the empty pole in the middle?"

"The eagle," Percy said.

"How'd you know?"

Percy shrugged. "Vitellius was talking about how the legion lost its eagle a long time ago—the first time, he said. He acted like it was a huge disgrace. I'm guessing that's what's missing. And from the way you and Reyna were talking earlier, I'm guessing your eagle got lost a second time, more recently, and it had something to do with the Fifth Cohort."

"You're right," she said. "That's exactly what happened."

"So what is this eagle, anyway? Why is it a big deal?"

Magnus looked around to make sure no one was eavesdropping. "It's the symbol of the whole camp—a big eagle made of gold. It's supposed to protect us in battle and make our enemies afraid. Each legion's eagle gave it all sorts of power, and ours came from Jupiter himself. Supposedly Julius Caesar nicknamed our legion 'Fulminata'—armed with lightning—because of what the eagle could do."

"I don't like lightning," Percy said.

"Yes, well it doesn't like you either," Father grumbled like a child.

"Yeah, well," Medea said, "it didn't make us invincible. The Twelfth lost its eagle the first time way back in ancient days, during the Jewish Rebellion."

"I think I saw a movie like that," Percy said.

"We did. For class," Medea shrugged. "There have been lots of books and movies about legions losing their eagles. Unfortunately it happened quite a few times. The eagle was so important...well, archaeologists have never recovered a single eagle from ancient Rome. Each legion guarded theirs to the last man, because it was charged with power from the gods. They'd rather hide it or melt it down than surrender it to an enemy. The Twelfth was lucky the first time. We got our eagle back. But the second time..."

"You guys were there?" Percy asked.

They all shook their heads.

"No," Daniele sighed. "Listen, it's bad luck to even talk about this. There was this huge expedition to Alaska back in the eighties. ..."

"That prophecy you noticed in the temple," Medea continued, "the one about the seven demigods and the Doors of Death? Our senior praetor at the time was Michael Varus, from the Fifth Cohort. Back then the Fifth was the best in camp. He thought it would bring glory to the legion if he could figure out the prophecy and make it come true—save the world from storm and fire and all that. He talked to the augur, who was actually one of Octavian's ancestors on his granddad's side, and the augur said the answer was in Alaska. But he warned Michael it wasn't time yet. The prophecy wasn't for him."

"But he went anyway," Percy guessed. "What happened?"

Magnus lowered his voice. "Long, gruesome story. Almost the entire Fifth Cohort was wiped out. Most of legion's Imperial gold weapons were lost, along with the eagle. The survivors went crazy or refused to talk about what had attacked them."

The gods shared dark looks.

"Since the eagle was lost," Magnus continued, "the camp has been getting weaker. Quests are more dangerous. Monsters attack the borders more often. Morale is lower. The last month or so, things have been getting much worse, much faster."

"And the Fifth Cohort took the blame," Percy guessed. "So now everyone thinks we're cursed."

"We've been the outcasts of the legion since...well, since the Alaska disaster," Magnus shrugged. "Our reputation got better when Jason became praetor—"

"The kid who's missing?" Percy asked. Veritas grumbled, shooting a dark look at her Mother. "He's not missing anymore."

"Yeah," Magnus said. "He was Octavian's best friend. He practically grew up in the Fifth and he was a good leader, you know. He didn't care what people thought about us. He started to rebuild our reputation. They started calling us Lucky Five again. Who cared about an eagle when the son of the King whose symbol is an eagle I might add was right there? Then he just… he disappeared."

"Which put them back at square one," Medea said. "Made them look cursed all over again."

Percy sipped his blue soda and gazed thoughtfully across the dining hall. "I don't even know where I come from...but I've got a feeling this isn't the first time I've been an underdog." He focused on Magnus and managed a smile. "Besides, joining the legion is better than being chased through the wilderness by monsters. Maybe together we can turn things around for the Fifth Cohort, huh?"

"You are a national treasure," Magnus snorted as a horn blew at the end of the hall. The officers at the praetor's table got to their feet.

"The games begin!" Reyna announced. The campers cheered and rushed to collect their equipment from the stacks along the walls.

"FOUR HUNDRED DENARII ON THE FIFTH COHORT," Mārs exclaimed though Mercurius noticed that his attention wasn't even on the screens. He was paying more attention to his child that was stuck in his home over in Canada with his dying grandmother.

"Two hundred that Mercurius' son in the Third Cohort gets the Muriel Crown," Pax, goddess of peace, stated.

"FOOLS!" Cerēs sneered. "Three thousand denarii that the Fifth Cohort wins the games and my son shall gain granted corona muralis!"

"Are you sure that tree-hugger has what it takes," Iovis questioned his sister. She bared her teeth at him. "Watch and see, brother. Watch and see."

It wasn't long before they all got to the center of the Mārs' field and formed ranks. In the sky, the daughter of Bellōna; the praetor, circled above the troops on her pegasus, as the 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, "Ploutō's ambassador," who had climbed an observation tower about a hundred yards from the fort and would be watching with binoculars.

Lússā and the Neikea moved closer to the screens, already brimming with excitement for the bloodshed to happen.

At the count of five, the horn was blown and the games begin.

Medea immediately abandoned the rest of her cohort as they stood around, laughing as the Fifth Cohort threw themselves at the gate.

"The cannons on the walls," Magnus was saying to Percy, "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—"

"Magnus!" Medea beamed as she joined them, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. "That's brilliant!"

"I don't know how I did that at the river," Percy stated hesitantly. "I'm not sure I can control the cannons from this far away."

"We'll get you closer." Magnus pointed to the eastern wall of the fort. "That's where the defense 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.

Medea smiled. "I know an invisibility spell or two. Your sister has one that she loves to use also that I ma or may not have stolen."

"And if all else fails," Magnus shrugged. "Well, 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."

They'd think it was magicka before anything else.

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

The blessings raised their hands, their magicka swirling around their fingertips. "Then we move in. Let's go."

"Definitely going to be the first over the wall," Cerēs murmured as the battle continued onwards. The legionnaires shouted, their elephant bellowed with glee, scorpion bolts exploding, and water cannons fired. Dirt rained down on the trio within the tunnels as they shook. The Son of Troy guarded the entrance to the center base and easily disarmed the few fighters that managed to slip through to him.

Very few as the others were horrifyingly unable to breach the defenses. Percy and the others appeared ten feet from the east wall. A water cannon discharged with a jaw-rattling THRUM, and a jet of liquid carved a trench in the dirt right in front of the Fifth Cohort members that were attempting to reach the main gates. Above them, the defenders pelted them with rocks and shot flaming bolts from the scorpions, blasting craters around their feet. The Third and Fourth Cohorts weren't even advancing. They stood back and laughed, watching their "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.

His Leaneíras would have already— Medea waved her hand, and the scorpions turned into the actual animal that turned on the defenders, drawing screams of pain. The golden eyes of Octavian found the trio unnerving quick alongside the eyes of Pranjal and Daniele.

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

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

More kids came across the battlements to laugh at them while a few others ran to the nearest water cannon and swung the barrel toward Magnus. A horrible idea really considering that the son of the Sea God was there. It was also a feeling that the others related to, exclaiming curses and insults the moment the canons exploded in a starburst of blue, green, and white. Kids toppled over the walls but were snatched by giant eagles and carried to safety when the entire eastern wall shuddered as the explosion backed up through the pipelines. Defenders scattered in confusion or were tossed through the air, giving the rescue eagles quite a workout. Money began to exchange hands within the Throne Room. At the main gates, the Fifth Cohort forgot about their formation as they lowered their shields and stared at the chaos in confusion.

"Go!" Magnus said, waving his hand, magicka and vines wrapped around itself around 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.

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

Magnus hesitated for just a moment before climbing. He was halfway up before the defenders recovered their senses enough to sound the alarm.

"Well?" The son of Cerēs screamed as he glanced back at Fifth Cohort's main group who were staring up at him, dumbfounded. "Attack!" He clambered to the top of the wall, where three defenders were trying to hack down his rope ladder while a cheer went up from the battlefield from his cohort.

"Smart," Bellōna murmured. "It won't work though. He reinforced the plant matter with his magicka. They'd have to knock him out and hope he stays down for it to go away."

Magnus swiped his sword through the air, reinforced it with his own magicka which knocked them off of their feet.

His Mother cackled like the wicked witch of the west the moment that his feet touch the top."How is that for a tree-hugger, little brother?"

Sumarbrandr danced in the air easily knocking down defenders while flirting a mile a minute with Kataklusmós when Percy and Medea joined the son of Cerēs. The blessings magicka moved as one as they assisted Percy in clearing the defenders off the walls. Below them the gates broke. The elephant barreled into the fort, arrows and rocks bouncing harmlessly off his Kevlar armor with the Fifth Cohort charged in behind the elephant, and the battle went hand-to-hand.

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

"A little late," Medea grumbled, throwing a rotten look towards her cohort.

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

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

They rushed down the interior steps and into the enemy base, plowing down anyone who stood in their way. The First and Second Cohorts fell apart under their assault and the sheer novelty of being on the losing side. Percy whirled through the defenders' ranks rolling under their feet, slashing with his sword, whacking campers with the flat of his blade, and generally causing mass panic.

And those that managed to control themselves, to put up any kind of fight, well they either fell to Sumarbrandr as Magnus allowed the sword to fight on its own though the boy knew that he would sustain all the strain he would have endured once it returned to pendant form. Together, the two boys fought almost like demons. As one defender turned towards Medea, Sumarbrandr lashed out, opening a deep cut in the soldiers' thigh showing a deep connection between the boy and the sword. In return, Medea flicked a finger and threw the poor soldier over the wall where he was caught by one of the eagles.

Mercurius wondered if Percy could hear the sword talking. Lea liked to pretend that she didn't though that was mainly because Lævateinn was apparently a gossip and the two weapons were always gossiping about "the old days". Magnus yelled, expelling energy like the shock wave from a bomb. Bowstrings snapped. Swords fell out of their owners' hands. Spears and guns and axes went flying into the trees.

Medea pushed forward, an axe flew towards her, bouncing off an shield of magicka around her before she threw her hand back out, mist curling morphing into a knife that sank into the thrower's armor and logged itself into their thigh.

It wasn't long before they came across the Son of Troy.

It was amusing how quiet the Throne Room became as they all ignored the screen showing Camp Half-Blood and their game to see how well the blessings fought against each other. After all, that was how the Legion trained. Medea and Magnus shared looks, falling back so that the two could battle while they handled the allies that were with the legacy of Apollō.

Octavian ducked as Percy somersaulted over a line of shields, twisting easily to block the boy's following strike. Mercurius watched as the blond narrowed his eyes, matching the son of Poseidón with ease. Percy was good; one of the best heroes of their generation, but the son of Troy was trained to fight against his khaos-mate and trained in different forms of swordsmanship. He moved swiftly, lithe form darting out the reach of his sword before moving in closer. Truthfully, it looked more like a dance.

"He's going to retreat," Apollō commented.

"What do you mean," Veritas questioned.

"Look at how he's moving," the god replied. "Really look. He's testing him out. He's thinking three moves ahead of Percy, getting a feel of his moves."

A truthful statement as every moment that Percy moved in closer, Octavian slinked out of the way, letting the sword dance in the air.

"Drawing him away from his allies, but now too far for his own allies to come to his aid. He's extending his attacks, making Percy believe that he's exhausting himself and just when Percy pushes forward to end it, Octavian pushes forward, pushing Percy back even further."

The son of Troy moved in closer, letting Percy graze against his body almost sensually as he forced him to retreat a few steps.

"So why do you think that he's going to retreat?" Ianvs asked.

"Like I said, he's testing him and that includes Percy's stamina. He can see that Percy would last longer than him in an all out battle. Octavian will eventually exhaust himself trying to keep up and keep him away. There's also a chance that Percy could use his powers or get help from his own allies before that happens. In the case of that, it would be wiser for him to—"

Octavian fell back, twisting out of the range of Percy's attack, and descending into the shadows to keep the son of Poseidón from going after him. He reappeared through the hidden passages of the fortress, joining in with his own allies in an attempt to retake the ground that they lost though it was far too late.

Magnus and Percy mowed through the rest of them; their swords blurs of motion as they fought side by side as if they had been doing it for years. Medea flew above them, hands gleaming with magicka thinning the ranks out, swiftly turning campers into animals or freezing them into place. The three of them ran to the center of the base which was pathetically unguarded since Octavian disappeared to keep the rest of the attackers away. He had been probably hoping that the rest of his allies would take it seriously, but they clearly didn't think that an assault would get that far.

Medea blasted open the doors, the steel hit the ground with a loud BOOM! The First and Second Cohort signifers were sitting around a table playing Mythomagic with cards and figurines while their signums were propped carelessly against one wall. She didn't even seem to care as the signifers fell backward out of their chairs; waving one hand outwards with a sharp cry of "Now I command, signums to my hand!". The poles flew at her, hitting her hands with loud smacks while Percy and Magnus disarmed the rest of their enemies before marching out of the keep triumphantly with the enemy colors.

Octavian and his newest allies awaited them, and while they fought valiantly, it was clear that the game was lost. Soon, 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 honors!"

Slowly the campers regrouped on the Field of Mārs before Olympos shook with the rage of a thousand suns. Looking around, they caught sight of Venus, a vicious snarl on her face while Vulcanus and Mārs desperately held her back as it seemed that she would leave the mountain. They were confused for only a moment until the shrill screaming caught their attention from the screens. Her daughter, Gwendolyn, was being carried out on a stretcher. With only a glance, they knew that she was dead. A pilum was sticking out of her armor—almost like she was holding it between her chest and her arm, but there was too much blood.

Medics barked at everyone to stand back, and Pranjal, son of Vēiovis, hovered over her. He was the only one that had the skill to bring the dead back to life though it was also a power that he was warned to never use. It was clear that it was an order that he wanted to break as despite everything that they did, she remained lost to the realm of the dead.

At least… to them, she did.

"Do not forget, sister," Apollō soothed the raging goddess. "Mors is still lost to us. With Mercurius here with us, only the Tenebrae would be able to guide her to the Underworld."

"And so long as the Doors of Death are lost to us," Ploutō started grimly. "The dead can rise again and once more walk amongst the living."

The words prove true as life bled back into the girl's face as she breathed in. "Wh-what is it?" She blinked, not noticing the seven-foot harpoon sticking out through her chest. "What's everyone staring at?"

Pranjal went white, gazing at his hands as he whispered, "There's no way. She was dead. She has to be dead."

"We cannot let this stand, Father," Mārs stated even as he massaged Venus' shoulders. "There will be endless carnage if Mors was not to be found nevermind his doors."

"A quest needs to be issued," Athḗnē advised. "And quickly. An army of never ending dead would be horrible for us alongside the psychological ramifications that it would have on the children who would be facing fallen comrades and loved ones."

"Alongside the return of the worst of our enemies," Iūnō stated grimly. "There are many that would gleefully take the chance to see our downfall."

"I do not want to hear a word from you," Father scowled at his wife who was quick to look offended. Turning back to the others, the King waved his hand. "Go on. Issue a quest."

"Quickly," Ploutō stated. "His mother has been asking for him."

All of them paled knowing how protective Nox was of her children.

Mārs nodded, and as he stood to leave, Apollō quickly joined him before their Father could object. The favoritism was strong when it came to the twins and Athḗnē after all. At least Camp Half-Blood was in good spirits, partying after curfew as they went to Diónusos' sons to make water into wine. Their arguments that they were greek so the drinking age was under 21 and that the camp was their home. Yet they could still see the maniac energy in their expression as they knew that four of them would be leaving soon to partake in a dangerous quest where the stakes were higher than even the Second Titanomakhía.

Over at Camp Jupiter, the son of Háidēs was shaking his head and saying: "Pluto never lets people return from the dead." Which was also a lie. He let them, but they had to have a damn good reasoning and be so utterly charming that it was nigh-impossible if they didn't have Lībera in their corner.

And because they were all dramatic assholes; Mārs' voice echoed around the legionnaires: Death loses its hold. This is only the beginning.

The campers drew their weapons while the elephant nervously trumpeted and the pegasus almost threw the daughter of Bellōna off of them. In the midst of the legion, a column of fire blasted into the air.

They scrambled backwards as Mercurius' older brothers stepped out of the explosion, golden raiment upon them, and they were beautiful and huge in their armour, being divinities, and conspicuous from afar, but the people around them were smaller. Huákinthos' scowled darkly at the stares that his lover was receiving while it was clear that Venus was already plotting against those that gazed too long upon her lover.

The campers sank to one knee before them, even Percy, though it was obvious that the son of Poseidón was bowing more so towards Apollō than Mārs. That ingrained dislike for the Prince of Olympos seemed to resonate no matter which form that the god of war took on.

"That's good," the son of Iūnō said. "Kneeling is good. It's been a long time since I've visited Camp Iūpiter."

"You're Ares," Percy said, glaring up at the soldier. "What do you want?"

A collective gasp went up from two hundred campers and an elephant. Can't forget the elephant.

(Would Lea like a pet elephant?)

"You've got spunk, demigod," Mārs said, baring his teeth. "Árēs is my Greek form. But to these followers, to the children of Roma, I am Mārs —patron of the empire, divine father of Romulus and Remus."

"We've met," Percy said. "We...we had a fight..."

"I fight a lot of people," The god scratched his chin, as if trying to recall. "But I assure you—you've never fought me as Mārs. If you had, you'd be dead." Apollō rolled his eyes before zeroing in on his children and then his favored legacy.

"Percy," Medea said, "please." Percy clearly didn't like it, but he kept quiet.

Mārs scanned the crowd. "Romans, lend me your ears!" He laughed— a good, hearty bellow, so infectious it almost made Mercurius could see more than one person smile. "I've always wanted to say that." He nudged Apollō who laughed lightly before they turned back towards the campers. "My brother, Apollō, and I come from Olympos with a message. Iūpiter 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 towards his stepdaughter. "This one should be dead, yet she's not. The monsters you fight no longer return to Tartara when they are slain. Some mortals who died long ago are now walking the earth again."

"Mors has been chained," Apollō announced solemnly. "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 Mors and free him from the giants. Only he can reverse the tide."

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

"Lord Mars, Lord Apollo," Reyna said as she rose uneasily, approaching the gods, followed by Octavian, who was scrambling towards his forefather. "we are honored."

"Beyond honored," said Octavian, eyes roaming over Apollō's face as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. "So far beyond honored—"

"Well?" Mārs snapped, not flinching as Apollō's anger focused on him.

"Well," Reyna said, "Mors 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," Apollō said. "But the barriers between life and death will continue to weaken. Those who know how to take advantage of this will exploit it."

Mārs easily cut in and took over, "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 Shishkebab."

Gwendolyn's wince managed to keep the focus from Mārs as he flinched from the murderous rage that Venus aimed towards him for his mocking. "Centurion Shish kebab?"

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

One of the campers in the back raised his hand; the one that was always trying to undermine the Son of Troy. "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!" Mārs 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?"

"You're the god of war," Percy spoke up. "Don't you want endless carnage?"

Mārs's infrared goggles glowed brighter. "Insolent, aren't you? Perhaps I have fought you before. I can understand why I'd want to kill you. I'm the god of Roma, 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 though Mārs only grinned in response whereas Apollō twitched in irritation. While Mercurius and Dīāna were obviously his favored siblings, the son of Latona was protective of all of his siblings. It was also hilarious as Apóllōn was fond of him in his more grecian mindset.

"I order a quest!" the younger god announced. "You will go north and find Mors 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!"

The children of the Netherworld all blanched "The land beyond the gods?"

Apollō nodded his head. "Everyone here remembers the land where the legion lost its honor! Perhaps if the quest succeeds, and you return by Fors Fortūna...perhaps then your honor will be restored." He shrugged casually as Mārs scowled at him. The god of war turned back to the children of Roma. "If you don't succeed, there won't be any camp left to return to. Roma will be overrun, its legacy lost forever. So my advice is: Don't fail."

"Um, Father Apollo, Lord Mars, a quest requires a prophecy," Octavian started nervously, bowing in saikeirei though they were not nihon-jin. "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 as if he didn't already know.

"Y-yes, my lord."

Mārs pulled out a hand grenade, and they all smiled when the romans began to scream. Please. They were all children of Roma, Mārs' sworn city. He wouldn't destroy them so recklessly. The grenade morphed into a ballpoint pen, and Mārs began to write.

Apollō covered his face, turning away from the sight of his brother.

"There!" Mārs finished writing and threw the scroll at Octavian. "A prophecy. You can add it to your books, engrave it on your floor, whatever."

Octavian read the scroll. "This says, 'Go to Alaska. Find Mors and free him. Come back by sundown on June twenty-fourth or die.'"

"Yes," Mārs said. "Is that not clear?"

"Oh, hush brother. Allow me as the god of prophecy," Apollō murmured, turning to look at the boy. All the mortals held their breath as the god's eyes met his descendant, both of their pupils gleaming gold with the mystical song of the heavenly oracle overtook them. "To the North, beyond the gods, lies the legion's crown—"

Picking up where he left off, Octavian continued, his voice dancing alongside the words as if they were their own song: "Falling from ice, the Son of Neptune shall drown."

The son of Troy and Percy both inhaled sharply.

"The chains of Death shall be broken," Apollō continued ominously, tilting his legacy's head upwards. Finishing it off solemnly, Octavian murmured: "And all of the seven shall be chosen."

"Much better, is it not?" Apollō inquired with rays of light rising from about his brow and his cheek emitting a smile mingled with wrath.

"Very much," Mārs replied, grim his frown is, and his eyes flash levin-flame around him, and his face is clothed with glory of beauty terror-blent. Turning back to the children, he smiled. It was not a nice smile. "There. You have your prophecy. The day the quest needs to be completed. And now, what else? here was something else...Oh, yes."

He turned to Magnus. "C'mere, kid." The boy stepped forward against his will. Mārs grinned. "Nice job taking the wall, kid. You've won your Mother three thousand denarii. Who's the ref for this game?"

Reyna raised her hand.

"You see that play, niece?" Mārs demanded. "First over the wall, won the game for his team. Unless you're blind, that was an MVP play. You're not blind, are you?"

Reyna looked like she was trying to swallow a mouse. "No, Lord Mars."

"Then make sure he gets the Mural Crown," Mārs demanded, meanwhile Apollō turned back to the others, placing a hand on Octavian's shoulder. "I commend you on your win, my child. Without your quick thinking and awareness, they may not have faced victory so easily for you and Neptūnus' son were evenly matched."

Mārs nodded, showing that he was paying attention. "A good leader knows when to retreat to live and fight another day. They know their strengths, weaknesses, and limitations. And they know the lives of many are more than the treasure of one."

Apollō looked around them, the shining from his eyes was like fire. "Octavian Antonius Verus is going to lead the quest to free Mors unless…" He spoke softly, a hint of warning in his tone. "There are any objections?"

No one spoke up, but they glared with envy, jealousy, anger, bitterness. All things that the boy was used to if he had to be honest.

"You can take two companions," Mārs said, nodding sharply. "Those are the rules. One of them needs to be this kid." He pointed at Percy. "Not only because Apollō's prophecy said so, but he's gonna learn some respect for Mārs on this trip, or die trying. As for the second, I don't care. Pick whomever you want. Have one of your senate debates. You all are good at those."

Father sighed, flicking his fingers. Lightning crackled across the sky.

"That's our cue," Mārs said as their images flickered. "Until next time, Romans. Do not disappoint me!"

His brothers erupted in flames before they reappeared upon the mountain.

And the wheels of fate continued on.

WORD COUNT: 8064

THINGS TO KNOW:

1) Menudo, also known as pancita or mole de panza, is a traditional mexican soup, made with cow's stomach in broth with a red chili pepper base. Hominy, lime, onions, and oregano are used to season the broth.

2) saikeirei - A japanese bow, which literally means "the most respectful gesture", is, as the name suggests, the ojigi that shows the uttermost respect towards the other party. It is mostly used when greeting very important personnel, apologizing or asking for big favors.

3) Ianvs is actually the latin way to write Janus.

4) Nihon-jin (日本人) (Japanese people)

QUOTES:

1) Homer, Iliad 18. 516 ff :
"[In a battle-scene engraved on the shield of Akhilleus:] And Árēs led them [an army of men], and Pallas Athḗnē. These were gold, both, and golden raiment upon them, and they were beautiful and huge in their armour, being divinities, and conspicuous from afar, but the people around them were smaller."

2) Quintus Smyrnaeus, Fall of Troy 7. 400 ff :

"Árēs, to gory strife he speedeth, wroth with foes, when maddeneth his heart, and grim his frown is, and his eyes flash levin-flame around him, and his face is clothed with glory of beauty terror-blent, as on he rusheth: quail the very gods."

COMMENTS FROM THE AUTHOR:

1) What's crazy is that the whole seventh wheel bs that Rick pulled still happens here except like... its platonic. Like everyone, but Leo grew up with each other. They know each other. They know how each other works. Leo is the odd man out. Thankfully though, not everyone on the ship are soulmates so that checks out.

2) I am not calling him Bacchus. His mama named him Līber! (Also Bákkhos is one of his greek epithets that was then used as his roman name when Līber already existed as a god.)

3) "How does Percy look at this moment?" Yall know white-streaked Jason Todd? Specifically the ones where he looks the damn teenager he came back as.

4) AGAIN, I DON'T GET HOW FRANK MADE THE LEAP THAT OCTAVIAN KILLED GWEN! JUST IMMEDIATELY BLAMING HIM WITHOUT AN INVESTIGATION:

4A) Then he noticed the marks engraved in the wooden shaft of the pilum: CHT I LEGIO XII F. The weapon belonged to the First Cohort, and the point was sticking out the front of her armor. 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.

4B) MAYBE HE SET HIS PILUM DOWN SOMEWHERE WHILE YOU WERE CELEBRATING YOUR WIN. EVER THINK ABOUT THAT BUDDY? MAYBE HE WAS INTERESTED BECAUSE IT WASNT EVERYDAY PEOPLE WOKE UP FROM CLEARLY FATAL WOUNDS LIKE THAT?

4C) There will be NO Octavian slander from this author, I'll tell you that! 5) Our spell today was brought to you by the Descendants franchise!

6) According to the wikia: In The Hammer of Thor, Magnus was capable of collapsing an underground ceiling in order to turn Blitz into stone. This may be limited to only revealing light sources, as Frey, god of growth, represents how living things broke through the earth to reach the light and therefore, he has limited function of Geokinesis.

6A) In regards to him being a son of Cerēs here, who is the goddess of agriculture, the earth, and cultivated crops... its kind of obvious.