[You have slept in a comfortable bed. HP and MP have been restored to their maximum capacity. All ailments and negative status effects have been cured. Your [Time Dilation] meter has been refilled. ]

When I woke up, I lost track of how much time I spent staring at the status message hovering in front of my face.

I'd seen it before, of course. A trillion times. I saw it every morning when I woke up, every time I took a nap.

But I don't know…something about looking at it now made this chasm of emotion open up in my chest—an enormous expanse of fear, grief, and anger that I was worried would rip open if I somehow moved, like a still-bleeding wound that hadn't gotten the right medical attention.

A part of me knew pain like this would've happened anyway, even if I hadn't gotten the Game. The life of a demigod, historically speaking, was never easy. Even in the best of times.

I would've lost people no matter what. I know that. I would've been pushed to my limits no matter what. I know that, too. And, most importantly, I would've failed at least once or twice, no matter what.

I know.

Still, though.

The Game was an extra piece to the puzzle—it had given me the ability to alter reality itself. And even though I knew it was stupid, I couldn't help but wonder if the choice I'd made in Atlantis, the choice to take the [White-Polka][Play-Track], was the reason all of this happened.

The magnitude of changes brought on by my first choice was insanely large. It was almost inconceivable to me that if I'd just hit a different button, my whole life may have been different.

Think about it. Can you really tell me the path I took has nothing to do with the fact that my friends are dead? That the first girl I ever loved is going to spend the rest of her immortal life in Elysium cursing my name? Hell, if I'd taken a different path, I'd have already killed Luke and been dating someone named Zoe! If one decision could've changed that much, how much could two in a row alter?

Oh, well. I can't lose my cool. Not now. There's too much at stake.

I got over it eventually. I shifted in the bed and sat up. The status message disappeared like it was never there in the first place.

My gaze fell upon the soft, inviting bed beneath me. The sheets were cool and crisp against my skin, yet the mattress seemed to hug me in a warm embrace as if it'd been waiting for me to wake up and begin the day.

"If there's one thing I can count on when gods are involved, it's fancy beds," I muttered to myself, kicking off the sheets and swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. "And free food. I need some of that."

I gingerly stood up. My body wasn't sore, which was a good sign.

My feet sunk into the muted carpet beneath the bed. The carpet was plush and dense, and it absorbed the sounds of my footsteps.

My jeans and singed sweater were neatly folded on a bedside table. I felt a wave of annoyance crash into me—why were all of my good sweaters the ones that got the short end of the stick? My return to camp, The Garden of Hesperides, and now—wearing a sweater for me was tempting fate.

Hell, I felt like I wasn't even tempting it anymore. Whatever I was doing was the same thing as flipping it the bird and telling it to come at me or die trying.

My clothes were placed alongside a glass of water, a glass of nectar, and another glass that had some orange stuff in it. I looked down and noticed that I was dressed in a black, silk pajama set.

There were silk socks on, too, which slightly annoyed me.

Who sleeps in silk socks? Definitely not me. Even those stuck-up, preppy kids at Yancy would've made fun of me if they caught me sleeping with socks like these on. And they were the same pretentious pricks with monogrammed pajama sets; the ones who played polo in the Hamptons every summer.

I made my way over to the only window in the room. I was drawn in by the flickering light that hung just outside the panes. As I drew back the curtains, I was met with a breathtaking sigh. A fiery river flowed just beyond the glass, its molten waters reflecting the red and orange hues of the sun as it rose in the sky. I could feel the heat emanating from it like a space heater.

"The River Phlegethon," A voice said from behind me. I turned to see Persephone leaning in the doorway. She was wearing the same clothes as yesterday, just in a different color. Now since I wasn't half-asleep, I could notice things about her I hadn't before, like the small smattering of freckles on her nose and the slit on her eyebrow. "One of our mystical rivers, with a fun quirk. For certain monsters, like Cyclopes, its waters mean instant death. For mortals like yourself? Healing."

"Thanks," I replied, not really knowing what else to say. Was I saying thanks for the information? Was I thanking her for earlier? I didn't know.

"Even then," Persephone said, stepping into the room. She tucked her hands behind her back and gave me an appraising look. "You're up earlier than I expected. You've been out for, mm, three days? So actually, you're up a few days earlier than I expected, to be specific. Given all the stories I've heard about you, I was skeptical, but I suppose my husband wasn't exaggerating. It's quite curious."

Curious? I was curious?

In my experience, that only meant one of two things, and I was intent on finding out which side of the line I fell on. So, I couldn't resist asking, "What is?"

"Well, you seem to have a penchant for swaying deities to your side, for one," Persephone said, tapping her finger on her chin. She pursed her lips and blew a raspberry, "Goddesses, definitely. Don't get me wrong, you're quite the looker with those bright green eyes and your flashy haircut, but there's something else, I'm sure. You've been on the scene for, mm, a year or two, and word around Olympus is that you've been rounding them up like precious minerals."

For a brief moment, I was taken aback. It seemed like that was precisely what she had intended as she beamed at me, causing a dimple to appear on her left cheek. I eventually said, "Well, I wouldn't say that…"

"I would," Persephone replied, fluttering her eyelashes at me in such a fake manner I rolled my eyes before I could help myself. "Lady Hestia made you her champion, Lady Hera blessed you, Aphrodite tried to—" Persephone gasped in faux surprise, fanning her face. "Marry you! My mother had glowing things to say about you after your last meeting, Artemis vouched for you despite the fact that you were a man and Athena…well, she's different. But she didn't kill you, so I'll consider that a plus for you."

"Just so I understand," I gave her a flat stare. She took the flat stare in stride, giving me another bright smile that didn't reach her eyes. "All of that means…what, exactly? That I've got game? I don't need to be trapped in here to show you I've got game, my lady. I can convince you of that in the next five words, if you want."

"Oh, I don't doubt that one bit, Percy," Persephone said smoothly, her fingers trailing alongside the bedside table. The glasses vibrated as her hand drew close. "Not just a pretty face, then?"

"I'm pretty all around," I said, doing a little twirl. I capped it off with a bow. "That isn't what makes me curious to you, though, is it?"

"No, not in the slightest. But bravo on the deflection tactics, you're just as convincing as the files say," Persephone laughed. "As for why you're curious…well, you wouldn't understand, not entirely, anyway. Maybe I'll tell you later. All you need to know is that you're enough of a mystery to show up on my radar, and my husband is taken with you. More so than some of his own children, in fact. He talks about you all the time. Like you're his trophy-winning stallion."

I didn't like that. She was making me seem like some sort of prize. Or worse, Hades' pet.

"And yet," I sighed, gesturing to the room around us. "He thinks I'm crazy. Now, instead of going out and hunting for the people who did this, I'm sent away to wherever we are now."

"You weren't sent away anywhere, Percy. We're in the palace. And crazy? That's not it," Persephone replied, raising her eyebrows in amusement. "Quite the opposite, in fact. He thinks you're fine. He just wants you to be as good as you can be. Better, even. If this situation somehow negatively impacted you, he wouldn't be able to live with himself. This is his way of telling you he cares."

"He's got a funny way of doing it," I mumbled under my breath. Persephone's face twisted into a sympathetic smile, and I cleared my throat, "Anyway, that's where you come in, I'm guessing?"

"Naturally. For starters, we don't know each other, so I'll be more objective when it comes to helping you," Persephone ticked off her fingers. "Secondly, I'm more skilled in this kind of stuff. You're aware of my parents?"

Zeus and Demeter. "Yes…"

"How much therapy do you think it took me to get over that? To deal with the truth of how it happened? I'm sure you've heard the myths…seen how jealous and petty I used to be. Purposeful, theoretically based psychotherapy was first developed in the Middle East during the 9th century. You can imagine how much stuff built up over the years," Persephone shook her head, and her curls bounced. "Why do you think my husband is so laid back, despite everything you may have heard about him in the myths?"

I stared at the goddess, "So what, you're some sort of mythical therapist?"

"In layman's terms, sure," Persephone shrugged. "I'm trapped here for months. I get bored. It's nice to have a hobby. In instances of extremely traumatized souls, I work with them before they move into Elysium. It may seem hard to believe, but some people are truly so ruined by the real world that they'll mess up our ecosystem in Elysium. As you've seen, we don't allow souls to know they're dead. Dying in horrible ways can sometimes make certain souls resilient to change, and especially distrustful of what we're trying to accomplish. In those cases, I ensure that they make the transition as best as they can."

I got the hilarious image of Persephone in a therapy session with Casper the ghost in my head. "Are you going to lay me down in a chair and ask me about my childhood?"

Persephone's lips twitched. The depressing aura around her receded a bit. "Do you want me to lay you down in a chair and ask you about your childhood?"

"Not really," I admitted. I ran my hand along the sleeve of my silk shirt, feeling the material ripple under my skin. "I'm guessing my uncle won't let me go until you give me the go-ahead?"

Persephone smoothed out some of the wrinkles in her dress, and smiled pleasantly, "You're correct."

"Fine, then, let's start," I sighed. "Do you think I could get some food first?"

Persephone beckoned me forward. "Good. Follow me."

I had been expecting the door to lead to a hallway, but, instead, the door led straight into what seemed like an office.

The room was bathed in a soft, warm light as if the walls themselves were radiating a comforting glow. It felt tangible, too, like humidity in the air. The feeling reminded me of the bed I'd been sleeping in, and I figured that every room around here was packed with this kind of calm-inducing magic.

The air was rich with the scent of lavender and sandalwood. The decor was elegant and understated, with plush armchairs and the same carpet as before.

A crystal ball sat atop a small table, its facets catching the light and casting rainbow reflections across the room. A bookcase was in the corner, filled with ancient tomes and grimoires, their spines adorned with mystical symbols and strange runes.

Persephone took a seat behind a desk that was crafted from a gnarled tree trunk and adorned with delicate carvings of animals and mythical creatures. She gestured for me to sit down.

"Alright, before we get started, some things you should know," Persephone cleared her throat. A plate of bacon and eggs appeared in front of me, alongside a bowl of yogurt, oats, and a glass of orange juice. "That crystal ball you see there is the most potent lie detector on the face of this Earth. It can track boldfaced lies, lies by omission; even subconscious lies. If you lie to me, or to yourself, I will prompt you until you tell the truth."

I took a bite out of the first strip of bacon. "Okay."

"Good," Persephone said agreeably. "Then, let's begin. What's your full name?"

The orb glowed green as I said, "Perseus Jackson."

"Good. Now lie: do you have white hair?"

"No," The green faded to an angry red.

"Terrific," Persephone shuffled some files around. Her fingers hinged on a blue file, and she opened it. Glasses magically appeared on her face as she scanned the file. Her eyes widened toward the end. "Tell me, Percy, do you consider yourself to be aloof?"

"Aloof?" I repeated, narrowing my eyes. I took a sip of orange juice and asked, "What does aloof mean?"

"Reserved and remote; either physically or emotionally distant; standoffish, if you will," Persephone responded calmly, gazing at me from behind her glasses. Her eyes shone brightly in the light of the room. "I'll put it this way. Do you find it easy to detach yourself from charged situations?"

"Yes," I replied, and the orb glowed green. Detaching from charged situations was a skill I'd acquired from the Game, and then built upon in Atlantis. It was something I prided myself on.

Persephone pressed on, "Do you believe that this is a result of your heightened mental training, a part of the tools in your toolbelt of being a demigod?"

"Yeah." The orb remained green. I tore my gaze away from it and placed it back on Persephone, who was looking at me intently.

"Okay. If you weren't a demigod, do you still think you would be so emotionally aloof?"

"I think so," I leaned back in my chair. What kind of question was that? Persephone was staring at me expectantly, so I figured she was looking for some sort of explanation. The orb still glowed green as I said, "I mean, I'd like to be, if possible. It's served me well so far. You have my files, there, don't you? My fight with Carcinus. Surviving Oceanus. Fighting in the garden. In all those situations, if I wasn't able to back up and think, I would've been toast."

Persephone nodded. "You're very correct. Though, it still begs the question; why would you need that skillset as a mortal, Percy?"

"It would be helpful," I replied, even though I wasn't entirely sure how. The orb hadn't wavered yet, so at least I knew I was telling the truth. "I don't know how."

"No worries," Persephone chewed the top of her pen and wrote some stuff down in a notepad. "Does your emotional aloofness tend to extend out of battles, from time to time?"

"I don't think so," The orb turned red, and my eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. "What? I really don't think it does."

"I've been reading up on you," Persephone said calmly. She pursed her lips and asked, "When was the last time you talked to your friend Annabeth? Or Grover?"

"The last time I had a full-on conversation with her was a few months ago, I think," The orb went back to being green, "And Grover? Um, it's been a while. Maybe a few months, too. I don't see how this is relevant."

"It's very relevant," Persephone urged, tapping her pen against the desk. "May I be brutally honest with you, Percy?"

My favorite kind of honesty. "Please."

"Based on what I see here, your emotional aloofness may not be quite as controlled and reserved for the battlefield as you might think," Persephone said seriously. "Whether it's intentional or not, you focus your mind on things other than what's going on in your relationships. Now, you have a lot on your plate, that's understandable, but would you agree that you tend to miss cues from those around you that your relationships need your attention?"

"That's completely untrue," I said, right as the orb turned back to red. "I don't miss anything, alright? I just don't have the time to babysit every single friend I have."

"When is Annabeth's birthday, Percy?" Persephone asked me from across the table. When I faltered, she added, "It's July 12th. What were you doing this year, on July 12th?"

"Thalia had just come out of the tree," I argued back, calmly. "Construction for EDEN was starting. I was busy."

"You and I both know that isn't true," Persephone shrugged, "Those weeks were your interlude between your quest and Atlantis. You spent most of your time training and hanging out. Even if you weren't, do you really think that going out of your way to wish her a happy birthday and give her a cupcake would've set the world on fire?"

I glared at Persephone, but in my heart of hearts, I knew she did kind of have a point. "Why does it matter?"

"It matters a lot. Being aloof, unconcerned, it all has to do with your fatal flaw as a hero," Persephone urged. "And, whether you like it or not, whether you know it or not, you have a very recorded history of pushing people away. Sometimes you do the pushing yourself. Other times, you miss cues about the nature of your relationship. Percy, there are even times you intentionally put your needs above someone else's, even when allowing their needs to come first wouldn't make any difference to you. And before you bring up Aphrodite's bond; I know it messed you up last year. But I'm talking about this year alone. I just want you to be truthful with yourself, even if you aren't willing to be truthful with me."

"You want me to be truthful? I don't get the point of this," I asked a moment later. "How is this allegedly helping me out with anything? Do you want some more truth? I think this is a gigantic waste of time. I should be out there, finding who it was that ordered a hit on my friends, so I can find them, tear them limb from limb, and show the Titans that I won't hesitate to do the same to the rest of them. That's the truth."

"I'm asking you these questions because you need to understand yourself. You need to understand why you are the way that you are, because chances are, if the Titans can't keep getting to you physically, they're going to find more and more ways to get to you mentally. And you need to be ready for that," Persephone told me firmly. "Besides, if I can figure out your fatal flaw from these traits you display—the traits you're displaying right now, you better believe Titans that are hellbent on killing you will, too."

"Then please, my lady, lay it on me," I leaned forward. "I don't need you to bullet point every last flaw I have. Just tell me the big one so we can be done with it."

"Your fatal flaw to be Machiavellian in nature," Persephone said simply. "It oozes through every facet of what you do, Percy. It's in your willingness to use any means necessary to achieve your goals, regardless of the moral consequences. It's apparent through your emotional aloofness; how it makes it easier for you to make calculated decisions without being swayed by sentimentality—you're practically being led to engage in manipulative or deceitful behavior. It's even there in how you prioritize your own success and power over the well-being of others."

"What?" I was dumbfounded. "How is that a fatal flaw? It sounds like self-preservation to me. And that last part, again, just isn't true. This might be hard for you to glean out of words on paper, but everything, everything I do is for my friends."

"It isn't a good thing," Persephone told me, "This Machiavellian flaw will ultimately lead to your downfall. Eventually, if you keep acting this way, you'll become isolated and reviled by those around you. What happens when you meet your match? Someone who is willing to stoop lower than you, exploit more things than you, cross more moral boundaries than you are?"

"That won't happen. And even if it does, I won't care," I said simply. "There's a timer on my life. There isn't a timer on theirs. I don't care if they're mad at me in the moment, or even after. By doing things the way I'm doing them, I'm all but ensuring that they'll, at the very least, get the chance to choose to be mad at me or not. If I let myself get bogged down in the details, the sentimentality of it—if I go to every birthday party, there won't be any more birthday parties to be had. I need to continue on this path, for everyone I care about. Not just one or two of them, but everybody, because if I slip up again, it'll mean everything's over. I need to make sure everyone is okay, even if I die doing it."

"Wait," I stopped in my tracks, looking back at Persephone, whose expression remained unchanged. "And that's what you wanted me to say. You didn't care about any of those other things, did you?"

"My husband mentioned your stubborn streak," Persephone said with a smirk. "If I tried to force-feed you some lines about yourself, you wouldn't have believed it nearly as much, now, would you have?"

"How much of that was true, then?" I asked, settling into my chair, and giving Persephone an impressed look. She tried to act innocent, but I stopped her in her tracks and mentioned, "I've been through spy training, my lady. I know every good lie starts based on truth."

"How do you know the same applies to a goddess?" She countered coyly, rotating a pen between her fingers. "I'm not like you."

I gave her a sweet smile, "That doesn't answer my question. Evasive answers won't work for me."

"You are good," Persephone chuckled, leaning forward. "Your fatal flaw, in my opinion, isn't exactly your emotional detachment, but it's related, nonetheless. Now listen, your emotional detachment serves you well out on the battlefield, and I wasn't wholly lying when I said it extends to your social life, either. The truth of the matter, however, is that your emotional detachment simply enables your fatal flaw. Which, in my opinion, is your martyr complex. By your own admission, you think that sacrificing your life is the only way to save everybody. That isn't entirely, it, though. Every time you throw your life on the line, you're subconsciously trying to cope with the hand you've been dealt in life. You feel powerless and stagnant in the grand scheme of things, so you think tossing your life on the line will protect everyone you care about since you've all but resigned yourself to your fate. And, when that doesn't work, all logic goes out the window for you and you simply overpower whoever it is you're fighting."

I was silent for a while as I thought over what Persephone said. I didn't know how to feel about it. What she was saying was making sense, but I just…didn't know if I could believe it.

I was in a really weird state emotionally. The effects of last night were still fresh in my mind, and even [Gamer's Mind] couldn't dissipate all of that emotion with one little nap.

"I'm sorry to drop that bombshell on you," She must've taken my silence as a sign of sadness. Persephone added, "My husband has given me free rein, and I intend to use it to explore what makes you, well, you. Even if it hurts. Just trust me and you'll be better off for it."

"Thank Zeus," I muttered under my breath, and Persephone shot me an entertained look. "What? I thought this was going to be like the movies or something. Have you ever seen Lucifer?"

"You do have game," Persephone's eyes glittered with amusement, "Alas, we're not going to be having sex."

"I didn't mean it like that," I quickly amended. That was a bad example, not that Persephone seemed to mind. Was my [Flirt] perk still churning? "But, the whole, like, 'here's why you suck and oh here's why your life is going downhill' spiel. You and I both know I don't need one of those."

"You don't," Persephone agreed, sighing. "But my husband has mandated that you are to undergo at least a week's worth of mental 'reconstruction' so I fear we don't have much of a choice in your duration of stay here. What we do have control of, however, is what we talk about. This can still be beneficial for you, you know."

I hummed in response. "Can I ask you a question?"

"That is indeed what I'm here for," Persephone inclined her head. Her glasses disappeared, and she stared at me again with those warm, chocolate eyes. "Ask away."

I suddenly got nervous, and asked, "Could I get some water?"

Persephone knocked on the desk. A can of soda slowly materialized out of the desk's surface, as if it were being conjured out of thin air. As the can took shape, its aluminum surface gleaming in the dim light of the room, a bottle of water was also forming, droplets of condensation beginning to bead on its smooth plastic exterior. "Thanks."

"You're very welcome," Persephone laughed, though there was no real humor in it. Her eyes weren't so warm anymore. She could tell I was lying, even without the magic orb. "Now, your real question?"

"Why do you only refer to him as 'my husband,' and not Hades?" I questioned, sipping out of the bottle of water. The liquid ignited all of my senses and dissipated some of the nervousness I was feeling. "At first, I thought you were just being respectful."

Perspehone's eyes glinted dangerously. My danger sense wasn't going off just yet, but I knew I had to be careful. She leaned forward, cocked her head to the side, and whispered, "And now?"

"Now, it feels deliberate," I stated, searching Persephone's face for any reaction. I leaned forward, too. "There's a story there. You asked me to trust you, and I want to. But to trust you, I need to know you. You already know me. You have your files. You can see everything you need to see about me right there. I don't know you at all."

"You want to know me?" Persephone scoffed, running a hand through her curls. "I thought you were stuck here, Percy. How does knowing me factor into that?"

"An hour ago, you said I was capable of swaying deities to my side," I pointed out, drumming my fingers against the desk. "This is all I do. I ask about them. Not their domains, not their husbands, but them. You made it seem like a science when in truth, all I want to do is get a gauge on where they're at."

"And, what, I'm supposed to just tell you my whole life story? Like that?" Persephone shot back. "I don't know what you think you know about how we work."

"That doesn't mean it has to be like that. I bet the files on there don't say I love Katy Perry," I pointed out, and Persephone got a small, begrudging smile on her face which she tried to wipe out. "Nor do they mention how I'm scared of butterflies because of that one Spongebob episode when I was growing up. Do the files mention how I have a blanky back home? They don't. And, even if they do, me telling you these things lets you see who I am, on my terms. Now, if you want to just heal my mental state and get me out of here, sure, don't answer. But if you want to be my friend then you should answer…because I want to know you. Not read about you, or ask someone else. I want to hear it from you."

"I suppose you're correct. Well, I'm sure you know how we originally became…involved," Persephone said carefully, and I nodded. She continued, "I can still remember the day I first met him—oh, his charming smile and smooth words. He'd been one of the first men I'd ever met, and he'd, for lack of a better term, enchanted me. He had promised me a life of luxury and power, and being as young and foolish as I was, I had fallen for his grandiose promises."

"But your parents were two of the Elders," I pointed out, a frown forming on my face. I'd seen firsthand the discrepancies between the myths and real history, and this was one of the reasons why. Could you imagine the outrage around the world if people found out their gods were this spoiled, this envious? This human? That they were just reflections of us, dialed up to eleven? "Did you not have enough of that already?"

"Luxury, maybe," Persephone agreed. She grimaced as she added, "But power? I had no power. I was treated like a princess in all the good and bad ways. I was made out to be gentle. Fragile. Stupid. As if the very idea of me leaving Olympus, or even doing something alone was blasphemous, and that it would just result in disaster."

"So, you snuck out," I guessed. In my head, Persephone back then would've fit right into the category of spoiled kids with trust funds I grew up growing to school with. "Probably not the easiest thing to manage with your, uh, parents."

Persephone nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Yes, I snuck out. And yes, you're right. Sneaking out when the very sky itself is looking out for you isn't the easiest thing in the world, even when you're a goddess. There was this pond I used to visit, right near the base of the original Mount Olympus. It was close enough that I could go without risking my father's involvement, yet far away enough that it felt real, and not manufactured."

Persephone paused for a minute, idly playing with the binders on her desk. She leaned back in her chair, "And that's where I met Hades. He was so different from anyone I'd ever met. He was powerful, yes, but in a quiet, understated way. And he was so...lonely. It was like he'd been waiting for me to come along and break him out of his shell."

"A guy randomly shows up at the pond you like visiting, and your instant thought isn't—oh hey, this guy might be a stalker," I raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Instead, you think you can fix him?"

"Well, not exactly," Persephone laughed bitterly. "But we did fall in love. And for a while, everything was perfect. We ruled the Underworld together, and Hades was everything I'd ever wanted in a husband."

"But something changed," I prompted, sensing the story was about to take a dark turn. I chewed the inside of my cheek. "Otherwise, we wouldn't be sitting here, and you wouldn't be telling me this story."

"Yes. Something changed. Hades started to become distant and cold. He was always working, always scheming. He kept asking me about what my father was up to like I'd have any idea," Persephone's face darkened, and she looked away. "And then...I found out about his affairs."

I winced in sympathy. I tried searching for the right words, but eventually just landed on, "I'm sorry, Sephy. That must have been awful."

"It was," she said softly. "But I still loved him. I thought we could work through it. And then...he kidnapped me. He took me to the Underworld and forced me to be his queen, against my will."

I felt a surge of protectiveness toward Persephone. It wasn't unlike the feeling of protectiveness I'd first felt for Aphrodite, but I'd learned from that mistake. I was going to comfort her without leaving my position of strength in the conversation, "That's horrible. Did you try to escape?"

"I did," Persephone said, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "But he always found me. Eventually, I realized that I was stuck here, with that whole pomegranate business. That I would never be able to leave unless he allowed it, not for a few months of the year."

Silence fell between us, heavy and uncomfortable. It felt physically suffocating, like someone had wrapped me in a weighted blanket. I didn't know what to say to comfort her, and I didn't want to push her to talk about anything, but eventually, she broke the silence all by herself.

"The worst part of it all?" Persephone scoffed thickly, "He told me they meant nothing to him. And, even then, all I could wonder was…if they truly meant nothing to him, why did he throw away everything we had for them? Why would he continually disrespect me, his supposed queen, for women who meant nothing to him?"

"I'm sorry for asking," I said, genuinely feeling bad. I hadn't been expecting the story to take such a jerky turn. "I didn't know—"

"How could you know?" Persephone interrupted me, looking down at her lap. A tear rolled down her left cheek. "He doesn't carry himself as that kind of a man, now, does he? No, he's the cool, suave uncle everyone wishes they had—all thanks to me. Despite his faults, I helped him work through them. Helped him become as complete as he is now. My reward? He gets to go off and do whatever he wants, whenever he wants, while I'm stuck here."

Hearing her story again, given my experience with immortals, made me realize some horrifying things I didn't fully understand before. He took Persephone from Zeus just to make him angry. He trapped her in the Underworld just to rub it in Demeter's face—an action that he still hasn't remedied.

I sat there, staring at Persephone, trying to process what she had just told me. My mind was racing with conflicting thoughts and emotions, and I didn't know what to make of it all.

"I don't know what to say," I finally admitted. "I had no idea."

Persephone nodded sadly. "Most people don't. He's good at hiding his true nature."

"But why?" I asked, still struggling to wrap my head around it all. "Why would he do those things?"

"Why do gods do anything, Percy?" Persephone sighed. "Power. He's always been obsessed with power, with control. And I was just another tool for him to use to get what he wanted."

I felt a surge of anger and disgust at Hades for treating Persephone so poorly. And yet, at the same time, I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to the story, that things weren't quite as black and white as they seemed. Maybe it was just a childish part of me trying to defend a loved one.

I'm not against admitting my own shortcomings; I was having a hard time grappling with what I was hearing. I had always thought of Hades as a good guy, but now, as I listened to Persephone's story, my mental image of him was beginning to crumble.

Not completely, of course, but it was hard.

On the one hand, I could still remember the first time I met him. Two years ago, when I'd been that scared little kid. He'd protected my mom and paid for my meal with Piper. He'd fronted me enough cash to get to Santa Monica and helped me devise a plan to take down Ares. Hell, even right now he was helping me—he'd blessed my swords, let me see MJ one last time, and even set up this entire thing for me, just to make sure I was mentally okay.

Even then, I knew he wasn't perfect. I knew about all the messed-up things he'd done. He was the reason World War 2 had stretched on as long as it did, the reason why the Big 3 had to swear the oath in the first place. I knew about the grudge he had against Zeus' kids and how he was the reason Thalia had died in the first place. I could even remember that lunch a while back, where he basically told me he considered all demigods tools.

All of that was buried under the good stuff, though. Until now.

Since I'd met the gods and been thrown headfirst into the deep end of Greek mythology, I'd had my brain flooded with questions. And, of all these questions that kept me up at night, one had been the most persistent: how could someone be both good and bad at the same time?

On one hand, it had seemed like such a contradiction.

If I took myself out of the situation and zoomed out, it made no sense. What a stupid question. Good and bad were polar opposites, right? Black and white, good and evil, yin and yang. There's no room for grey areas, no wiggle room. It's like trying to mix oil and water—they just don't go together.

But then, I'd look at the people around me, and all that simplicity would get thrown out the window. The gods weren't that simple. My friends and family weren't that simple. Even the people around me at the camp weren't so simple.

Clarisse bullied people around her and took on a domineering attitude with so many of the younger campers. But when push came to shove, like earlier this year, she was willing to risk her life and everything she had for her home. For people she'd never spoken to before.

Gods like my dad were a conundrum, too. Poseidon was now the guy who I know visits Cheesecake Factory with me every weekend, the guy who knits, cries at the end of 13 Going On 30, and always leaves some milk out for the little seahorses. Yet, somehow, he's still the guy who cursed Pasiphaë and made her have a kid with a bull. He's still the guy who destroyed mankind at Deucalion and Pyrrha, if only to 'teach them a lesson.' He's still the guy that could eviscerate you on a bad day if you pushed the wrong buttons.

So, what does that mean? Where does it leave me?

A year ago, I would've told you it meant nothing. That when Kronos was packed up and taken care of, I'd turn my attention to the gods and make them answer for their misdeeds, irrespective of how good they thought they were.

Now…well, I don't know. I've been through a lot since then. I've learned a lot. I've done questionable things in the name of what I thought was justice.

And I now know that we're all a blend of good and bad. We're all capable of great kindness and great cruelty, often within the same breath.

But learning this has also been what's made morality such a tricky thing. Morality isn't fixed; it's not a set of rules that we can follow blindly. It's constantly shifting, evolving, and adapting to the context around us. What might have been considered good in one culture could have been considered bad in another, like when Amphritite was telling me about her marriage with my dad.

What might have been seen as a moral duty in one era could have been seen as a moral abomination in another, like the horrible training and isolation Triton was forced to put himself through.

So, how could I navigate this moral minefield? How could I accept that people can be good and bad at the same time without losing my own moral compass?

I believed that the answer had lain in intention. That it wasn't so much what they had done, but why they had done it.

I thought that if the gods' intentions had been good, if they'd striven to do good in the world, then that had been what had mattered most.

But what intention could possibly explain what my uncle had done? I could sit here and contemplate this forever, but that wouldn't change the fact that the woman in front of me was trapped here for months on end. Stolen from her family.

Intentions can be murky, clouded by our own biases, desires, and fears. The false promise of intention lets us convince ourselves that we've been doing the right thing when, in fact, we've been doing the exact opposite.

I could have justified Hades' previous bad behavior with good intentions, or I could have demonized someone else's good behavior just because I didn't agree with their intentions.

It had been a constant balancing act in my head, a tightrope walk between good and bad, between light and dark. But I had believed that it had been worth it. That if I could discern someone's intentions, I could excuse their behavior.

I don't know if I can believe that anymore.

"You don't deserve that," I tried to offer her. "Is there any way you can…"

"Leave?" Persephone filled in the blank, scoffing. "Percy…if I could leave, I would've left a very long time ago."

"I was going to say negotiate," I replied. "I know you might not be allowed to leave, but can people visit you here?"

"No choice of negotiating, either," Persephone shook her head. She opened her mouth to say something else when her eyes shifted to the right side of the room. I followed her line of sight to the wall, where there was a clock. "And people are allowed to visit…but no one ever does. Gods can't cross into other gods' domains, and even if they could…listen…why don't you head back to your room for a bit. I'll call you back in here for lunch."

"I would. Visit you, I mean. And don't be so sure about being trapped. You said you've read about me, well…you should know I'm capable of anything. I'll work out a way to get you out of here." I wanted to say more, to apologize to her, but I got the sense she wanted to be left alone, so I just nodded mutely as a goodbye and walked back to my room.

"Good going, Percy," I mumbled to myself. "You just made the lady who controls your stay here cry. Maybe next, you can let all the souls out of the Underworld."

I wasn't lying to her, though. I'd seen enough, and I knew I wanted to get her out of here, one way or another.

As I opened the door to my room and slowly walked through the doorway, I was immediately hit with a strange feeling of unease. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up as my eyes scanned the space.

It was exactly how I had left it that morning: the unmade bed, the singed clothes, the drinks piled up on my bedside table. But there was something off. Something I couldn't quite put my finger on.

And then I saw it. On my bed, sitting innocuously among the pillows was a metal case. It was rectangular, about the size of a large shoebox, and completely unmarked.

It looked like it had been placed there with great care as if someone had wanted me to find it.

I hesitated for a moment, my heart pounding in my chest. Who could have put it there? And why?

Slowly, I approached the bed, my eyes fixed on the case. I could see my reflection on its smooth surface, distorted by the flickering light of the bedside lamp.

I reached out a hand and touched the cold metal. It was heavier than I had expected, and my muscles strained as I lifted it off the bed. I set it down on the desk and stepped back, my heart still racing.

For a moment, I just stood there, staring at it. Then, curiosity getting the best of me, I lifted the lid. The first thing I noticed was the smell. It was a mixture of metal and oil, with a hint of something else. Something sweet and sickly.

Inside the case, neatly nestled in a bed of foam, lay a highly militarized bow, black as night and sleek as a panther.

"A bow?" I whispered to myself, reaching inside the box and pulling out the weapon. As I lifted the bow out of the case, I could feel its weight—it was heavier than any bow I'd ever held before, not that it meant much. The last bow I'd used was one of the ratty, frayed ones from the camp's armory when I'd trained with it before Atlantis.

It had felt unbalanced in my hands, and the handle had been notched with weird knife marks. This bow, however, felt perfectly balanced in my hand. The weapon hummed with almost electric energy like it was eager to be used.

I tested the bow's tension, pulling the string back with a steady hand. A low hum filled the air as the bowstring stretched tautly, and I could feel the weapon vibrating with power.

I looked back in the box and saw a note next to the quiver of arrows. I reached for it and read:

Perce!

Hope you're doing alright. I don't know where you are—I tried to IM you, like, a thousand times, but it wouldn't go through. Hard guy to find, huh? I like hide and seek as much as the next guy, but damn man!

I'm not sure what you did, but word around the block is that you pissed off Hades, or died, or something. I checked my phone and you're not dead, so I guess that means you really did piss him off, or you're lying low. It's cool either way. I'm all in favor of some pranks here and there.

I'm having Hermes get this to you ASAP.

You remember when I saved your friend a while back? I forget his name, but I just remember that fat fuck Dionysus wouldn't get off his ass to help.

Well, I think I might need to cash in on that IOU soon. I'm hoping I don't, but I might have to. And it won't be for hitting the bars, though I still want to do that. Maybe after this.

Like I said, though, your disappearance on the overworld is leading a lot of people to believe you're not with us anymore. That could be an advantage for the kind of IOU I have in mind.

In anticipation of that, I'm sending you a little advanced weaponry. Just the kind of thing no one would expect you to have. Get comfortable with it, and if I need your help, I'll come find you personally.

The handwriting got a bit messy.

OH! I FEEL A HAIKU COMING ON!

Percy, bold and true,

A hero with a noble heart,

Ready to assist.

HELL YEAH!

Anyway. Get comfy with the bow.

Your favorite and most handsome cousin,

Apollo

"Isn't that 8 syllables?" I muttered, reaching for the quiver of arrows that lay beside the case. Each arrow was sleek and deadly, with sharp black tips that glinted in the light. "Sounds like a spy mission, though. I guess Delta's training paid off."

I slid one of the arrows into place, feeling the satisfying click as it locked into position. With the bow now loaded and ready, I took a step back, lining up my shot.

And then, with a sudden release of the bowstring, the arrow was airborne. For a split second, time seemed to stand still as the arrow soared through the air, its black tip gleaming in the light. And then, with a loud thud, it struck its target dead center, embedding itself in the wall with a satisfying crunch.

Now, how was I to convince Persephone to let me get some training in…

AN: Huge props to etko for this one! He helped me clean up a lot of my thoughts and make sure I was hitting all the beats I wanted to hit. To those of you concerned the story will stall here, don't worry, it won't. This is just a good way for you guys to get acquainted with how Percy's feeling before we dive into Titan's Curse. As you can tell from Apollo's message, he's got a quest for Percy…bonus points to anyone who can guess what it is!

Reader0404: Thanks for the review. I appreciate the time you took out, and waiting for more chapters just so you can binge them is something right out of my own playbook. Thank you for your advice as well, and I agree. I want to become a bit better about that, so I'll be trying to sprinkle more details like that as we move on. Thanks again.

Askepott420: Ha! Thanks for the compliment, but I'm most definitely not a psych student. I'm mechanical engineering, but I just like to make sure everyone gets a window into his head, cause he's a complicated dude. Cheers homie! And thanks for the 7 rereads, hah.

Lee Aaron Coronel: I agree with you, and I can tell you, he won't. You make a very good point no one else did- she thought it was her fault, and still did what she did. An important point to note. I'm unfamiliar with the story of Eros and Psyche, though. Where can I read it?

Zarathos 11: Ahhh it's my guy! I think I might take you up on that title idea in the future, and when I do, I'm going to put a little note so everyone knows! Hah, your review was definitely timed perfectly, but I had it planned with this whole 'therapy' arc. Funny, nonetheless. Oof, hope this chapter doesn't burst your bubble about the whole Hades/Sephy thing, lol. This particular myth I got from a Hunger Games fanfiction called "When the Moon fell in love with the Sun." The fic is based on a myth, and I repurposed that myth for this story, but in all honesty, I just like myths so I have a couple lying around at all times. The power I'm referring to is not Gamer's Mind, and I'm pretty sure it hasn't been done in all of fanfiction, but definitely not in PJO. You're very welcome. Etko is a huge help with this stuff, so thank him too, haha! See you next time homie.

Speedster1014: the parlays were: Percy winning the first thing, Percy getting the first hit, Percy being the last to complete the second task, Percy not losing a single round or coming in anything other than first, and Percy winning the final task.

Yuveriasilva37: Dude, I love HPfanfictioner66. I haven't read that fic of his. I should check it out, though, cause if it's anything like his other work, I'm sure I'll like it.

OhJustReadIt: I just had the song playing constantly while writing the chapter so I had to work it in lol. Sorry for any tears!

Noctis Lucius Caelum: This is why I like you so much! You're asking a very important question, there…and that's all I'll say.

Meryfcuckery: Thanks, my man. I hate edge-fests so I avoid writing them as much as I can. Having etko also makes sure I don't go too off the deep end. I just realized I'm shouting this dude out like crazy, but he's the best, so forgive me. Dude, you're going to hate me, but I have some crazy Artemis moments lined up. You're actually going to hate me so much. The Prophesied and I were actually talking about how it's going to go down, so stay tuned. There are certainly times I consider doing a throuple or a duo, but I still don't know. I don't want to say it's possible and give people false hope, so I won't…but yeah. Yeah, the mind control is the worst of it, imo. I still like Aphrodite though. I've had a lot of fun writing her. And yeah, people are rightfully mad at her, and I want people to be, but just remember she's not perfect.

Insanecoop: No pity party. This is the arc where Percy transforms into a stone-cold killer.

Thanks, everyone! Take care.

- Maroon