The Prince of the Underworld

by kurenohikari

Being on the run from monsters was not something Nico had been expecting to do in his life. For all his love for Mythomagik, Nico had never believed the cards to be based on real life events. Who would ever expect myths to be real? It was madness! What made everything worse was the fact that Nico was following four ghosts. Nico was sure he was losing his mind.

52. ACT V – PART V

On Olympus, the Gods were gathered in the grand council hall, their thrones arranged in a wide circle beneath the starry dome of the sky. Every Olympian was present—well, almost every Olympian. Ares was noticeably absent, still serving out his punishment as a mortal, and in his place sat Persephone, who had joined her husband, Hades.

In the center of the gathering, the s shimmered, showing the blurry image of Percy Jackson, Octavian, and Jason Grace standing beside Mrs. O'Leary, the massive hellhound wagging her tail like she didn't have a care in the world. With a flash of shadow, they vanished, on their way to Rome to start their quest for the lost statue of Athena.

Poseidon leaned forward in his throne, his sea-green eyes narrowing as he watched his son disappear from view. The God's usual confident demeanor was clouded with worry, and his trident tapped impatiently against the stone floor, sending soft vibrations through the room. "I don't like this," Poseidon muttered, his voice low but carrying enough weight to catch the attention of the others. "Sending my son off to Europe with two Romans? It's like sending a fish into a shark tank."

Apollo, who was lounging lazily on his golden throne, tilted his head and gave a dramatic sigh. "Oh, come on, uncle, don't be so dramatic. Jason's fine—he's Juno's favorite little soldier, after all." He paused, flicking his gaze to the still-flickering image of Octavian. His usual playful grin faltered. "Though... I'll admit, even I feel a little unsettled about sending them off with Octavian."

Poseidon's gaze snapped to Apollo, one eyebrow raised. "You should feel unsettled. That boy is trouble."

Apollo straightened up in his seat, his golden curls bouncing slightly as he ran a hand through his hair. "Hey, don't look at me like that! He may be a legacy of mine, but I didn't exactly choose him." He glanced over at Athena, who sat with her back straight, her grey eyes fixed on the pool. "Honestly, he creeps me out. All that ambition and scheming... it's not the good kind, you know? I like my children to be a little less... murder-y."

"Is that what Romans call him?" Hades' voice was quiet but cutting, his dark gaze shifting toward Apollo. "A legacy?" His tone dripped with sarcasm, the corner of his mouth twitching in something that might've been a smile if Hades was capable of such things.

Apollo winced slightly under Hades' scrutiny. "He's technically a legacy of Apollo. A great-something-child," he muttered, clearly uncomfortable with the way this conversation was turning. "But, you know... that doesn't mean I claim him."

Hestia, who had been quietly watching the scene unfold, finally spoke, her soft voice cutting through the tension. "What's done is done. The quest is already in motion. We cannot change who was chosen, nor the dynamics at play." She looked at Poseidon, her warm gaze offering comfort. "Percy is strong. You know this better than anyone."

Poseidon's frown deepened, but he gave a reluctant nod. "I know he's strong. But strength isn't always enough when you're walking into the lion's den." His gaze flickered to Jason's image in the pool.

"Jason was chosen for a reason. He's a good balance for Percy." Hera interjected sharply, her voice was steady, but there was an edge to it. "They'll need each other on this quest."

Zeus, seated at the head of the council, stroked his beard thoughtfully as he listened to the back-and-forth. His eyes glowed faintly with the crackle of barely restrained lightning, but for once, he remained silent, letting the others voice their concerns.

Persephone, who had been quietly observing from her place next to Hades, finally spoke, her voice cold but measured. "Jason and Percy might be fine, but Octavian... He's a snake. And snakes bite when you least expect it."

Apollo shifted uncomfortably again. "Yeah, well, I told him not to bite, but I don't think he listens to anyone." His golden eyes flickered with something like guilt. "He wants power—too much of it. And when someone wants that much power, they're willing to do anything to get it."

"That's exactly what I'm worried about," Poseidon rumbled, leaning back in his throne, his grip on his trident tightening. "Power-hungry demigods tend to meet bad ends. I don't want Percy dragged into something he didn't sign up for."

"I agree with Poseidon. Octavian is a problem. He's got ambition, but no wisdom to temper it." Hades said, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver through the room. "

Zeus finally spoke, his voice booming with the authority of a king who was accustomed to making decisions no one could argue with. "The quest has already begun. The Fates have woven this path, and none of us can change it now. Our children—Greek and Roman—must find their way. This division between the camps has gone on long enough." His eyes flickered between Athena and Poseidon. "They will either unite, or they will fall."

There was a heavy silence that followed his words. Even Apollo stopped fidgeting.

Hades, always the realist, let out a quiet, mirthless chuckle. "Let's just hope they don't fall too far," he muttered under his breath, though his eyes gleamed with something unreadable as he watched the pool.

Poseidon said nothing, but the tightness in his jaw spoke volumes. He trusted his son—of course he did. But that didn't mean he wasn't worried. Percy had been through more than most demigods could handle in ten lifetimes, and this quest? This felt different. It felt heavier. Darker.

And so, the Olympians watched—waiting, wondering, and, though none would admit it, worrying. In the pool, they could see the tension between Jason and Percy was thick enough to cut with a celestial bronze sword.

Octavian, stuck in the uncomfortable position of being the third wheel between two sons of the Big Three, was way out of his depth. He was used to power struggles, sure, but this? This wasn't even about who would lead the quest or who would save the day. No, this was something far more absurd. Octavian might've hated most Greeks, but he could at least admit they weren't this ridiculous. Or maybe they were. It was hard to tell when he was stuck in the middle of what was quickly turning into some kind of demigod dick measuring contest.

Not that Percy or Jason would ever admit that's what it was. Both of them were acting cool, casual, as if they didn't care what the other was doing. But Octavian wasn't an idiot. He could see it—the constant one-upping, the side-eye glances, the subtle flexing of powers whenever the other so much as breathed too loudly.

Percy summoned water from a nearby fountain, swirling it around his hand like it was second nature, and gave Jason a grin that was just a little too smug. "So, lightning bolts, huh? Must be cool, but... water's kind of everywhere. I'm just saying."

Jason didn't even blink. He just smirked and sent a small bolt of electricity sparking between his fingers. "Yeah, well, air's everywhere too. And I don't even need water to fry something."

Octavian pinched the bridge of his nose. This was going to be a long quest. And the worst part? Nico di Angelo wasn't even here.

The one person who could shut this down with a glare, the one person both Percy and Jason were clearly trying to impress, was stuck back at Elysium Prep. Octavian was not an idiot, if it wasn't for Nico's existence, he was pretty sure these two would've already tried to kill each other.

"Gods above," Octavian muttered under his breath, "if I have to listen to one more word about 'control over the elements' I swear I'll end this before we even get to the statue."

Up on Olympus, things weren't much better. Hades, watching the entire scene through the scrying pool, had his head in his hands, groaning loud enough to make the Underworld tremble. "Povero bambino mio," he muttered, exasperation heavy in his voice. "What in Tartarus is wrong with these two?"

Zeus, leaning back in his throne with a smirk, raised an eyebrow. "Boys will be boys, Hades. It's perfectly natural. After all, it's not every day two demigods of such standing find themselves pining after the same person."

Hades shot him a glare. "Pining? Is that what you call it? It's more like... panting. Like rabid dogs. Have they no dignity? My son's not even there."

Poseidon, who had been lounging with his trident propped up against his throne, chuckled in agreement. "It's embarrassing," he grumbled, though there was a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Percy's usually better than this. But Jason? What's with that smug smile all the time? He's practically flaunting himself."

Zeus' smirk widened. "At least my son has the courage to act on his feelings. Jason's not wasting time pretending like he's above it all."

Poseidon shot his brother a glare, leaning forward in his throne. "Courage? Is that what you call it? Nico's known Percy longer. There's history there. Not that you'd understand, considering Jason's idea of affection is stealing it from other's."

"Thief? You dare call my son a thief?" Zeus' eyes sparked with electricity, and he leaned forward, meeting Poseidon's challenge head-on. "History doesn't mean anything if Percy's too scared to tell Nico how he feels! Jason's the one who took action. You can't steal what's already been given willingly."

Poseidon stood, trident glowing ominously. "Nico and Percy have a bond—"

Hades slammed his fist down on the arm of his throne, shadows curling around him like an angry storm. "Enough!"

Both Zeus and Poseidon froze, turning to look at their older brother with wide eyes. Hades' usual cold demeanor had cracked, revealing something far more dangerous. His voice was laced with irritation as he glared at them both.

"Let me make something very clear." Hades' voice was low, barely more than a growl. "Nico di Angelo does not belong to either of your sons. He is not some prize to be fought over. He is my son, and he pays your boys any attention because he chooses to, not because of some unspoken claim."

Zeus' smirk faltered, and Poseidon crossed his arms, frowning but staying silent as Hades continued.

"If Percy or Jason want to earn Nico's affection, they should thank their lucky stars that he even tolerates their idiocy. Nico is stronger than both of them combined. They should be grateful he hasn't shadow-traveled their sorry asses into the deepest pits of the Underworld for annoying him."

A tense silence fell over the council chamber. Hestia, ever the peacemaker, gently placed a hand on Hades' arm. "Brother," she said softly, her warm voice a balm against the rising tension. "They're only boys, after all. This will pass."

Hades exhaled, his dark eyes still burning with frustration, but he nodded. "Perhaps," he muttered. "But I will not have them treating Nico like some... like some trophy to be won."

Zeus and Poseidon exchanged awkward glances, the tension between them cooling slightly, though neither was willing to back down entirely.

"Nico isn't a child anymore. He's more than capable of handling himself. But your sons?" Hades tilted his head, looking at Zeus and Poseidon with a smirk. "They could use a little humility. Perhaps they should remember that Nico's affection isn't something to be won. It's something to be earned."

Zeus opened his mouth to retort but thought better of it. Even he wasn't foolish enough to argue with Persephone when it came to matters of the Underworld.

Poseidon sighed, leaning back in his throne and rubbing his temples. "Fine," he muttered, "I'll talk to Percy when he gets back. If he's still alive after this mess."

Zeus grumbled something under his breath but didn't argue further. Hades gave them both one last withering look before sitting back in his own throne, the shadows around him slowly dissipating. Hades would have to trust that Nico could handle this... and hope that Percy and Jason didn't destroy themselves in the process.

Meanwhile, Hera, ever the queen of strategic manipulation, ignored the chatter around her, as she lounged on her throne, observing the events of the quest with her usual air of superiority. Her lips curved into a delighted, smug smile, one that could only belong to someone who felt they had played the game of life flawlessly. She didn't care that Percy was still in the picture, hovering on the edge of this tangled mess of affection. No, what mattered to Hera was that her champion had acted first. Jason had made his move, taken initiative.

Hera practically radiated pride as she rose from her throne. She almost broke into dance across the grand halls of Olympus, smug as she could be. "Ah, my sweet Jason. Finally, you've shown the courage to claim what's yours," she mused, watching Jason's recent feat in the scrying pool. He had slain more werewolves than Percy. "You may not have known Nico as long as Perseus, but time means nothing when fate is involved."

On the opposite side of the spectrum, Persephone was having her own brand of celebration.

The Queen of the Underworld had turn away from the bickering of the Gods, a goblet of wine in hand, as she watched the Queen of Gods. Persephone knew what Hera was celebrating. Persephone's own reaction was far from calm. In fact, it was a mix of wild joy and possessive protection. Nico was, after all, her precious boy—her darling. She had long since taken him under her wing, and anyone who dared bring him harm would face the full wrath of the Underworld.

"First Jason—good boy, good boy. Now all we need is Percy to realize his feelings and we've got the perfect trio!" Persephone practically squealed, standing from her ornate chair and twirling in excitement. Her flowery gown shimmered as she moved, petals falling around her in a shower of golden light.

She was practically buzzing with energy, already half-planning a celebratory feast in her garden for when Nico returned. "They'll all come together beautifully," she hummed to herself, almost dancing through her flowers as she envisioned Nico happy, surrounded by love and loyalty. It was what he deserved, after all. Jason had taken the first step, but Percy... well, Percy would come around. He just needed a push. A little nudge from the Fates, perhaps.

But even as Persephone celebrated, her protective instincts flared up. A dark, dangerous smile tugged at the corners of her lips as her thoughts turned to Jason and Percy. "But if either of them either—so much as dares to hurt my Nico..." Her voice trailed off, her eyes narrowing with a deadly glint. "Well, they both know what I did to Ares."

She paused, a hand hovering over a particularly sharp rose bush, watching as the petals withered and the thorns grew in response to her mood. "For Nico? For my darling boy? What I would do to them would make Ares' punishment look like a gentle slap on the wrist."

Persephone let out a low, menacing laugh, her mind already swirling with ideas—creative, excruciating ideas—of what she could do if either Jason or Percy ever harmed Nico. There were fates worse than death, after all, and Persephone was well-acquainted with all of them. Her smile turned wicked as she imagined the endless ways she could make the sons of the Big Three suffer.

But then, just as quickly, the darkness in her eyes faded, replaced by the warm glow of motherly affection. She spun around, laughing once more as she resumed her celebration, plucking flowers from her garden and imagining the happy reunion when Nico returned. "Ah, but they wouldn't hurt him," she said, more to herself than anyone else. "They love him. They'll take care of him, or they'll face the consequences."

Her gaze softened, thinking of Nico—her beautiful, strong, resilient boy. She would protect him at any cost, but for now, she would trust Jason and Percy to do right by him. She lifted her goblet in the air, toasting to the future. "To my son of the Underworld, and to his suitors—may they both realize how lucky they are to have his attention."

And with that, Persephone continued her private celebration, already planning how to ensure that Percy finally made his move. The other Gods steered clear of Persephone's joyful yet ominous mood, wisely deciding to avoid being swept up in her excitement or caught in the crosshairs of her wrath.

Dionysus sat back in his plush, overstuffed chair, laughing so hard he nearly choked on his popcorn. The scene unfolding before him—a divine squabble between the Big Three—was far more entertaining than anything the mortal world could offer. It was like watching a group of toddlers fight over who got to claim the last cookie, except these toddlers controlled the sky, the sea, and the dead.

"You'd think they'd be over this by now," Dionysus snickered, his mouth full of popcorn. "Millennia of existence, and they still can't figure out how to play nice." He popped another handful into his mouth, eyes sparkling with amusement. "Honestly, this is better than any of the mortal drama shows I've seen."

Athena, sitting a few thrones over, didn't even spare him a glance. She was laser-focused on the scrying pool, her grey eyes narrowed as she watched Percy, Jason, and Octavian begin their quest. But it wasn't the demigods she cared about—not really. Her mind was on her statue, the Athena Parthenos, the symbol of wisdom and power that had been missing for centuries. It gnawed at her, the fact that it had been stolen and hidden, reduced to nothing more than a lost relic. Her fingers drummed impatiently on the arm of her throne.

"Hephaestus better have the right angle," she muttered, more to herself than anyone else. "I want every second of this quest documented. There can't be any mistakes."

"Don't worry," Hermes chimed in from his own seat, adjusting the strap of his messenger bag as he leaned back. "Hephaestus' channels got all the best tech. If there's a glitch, I'll eat my own winged sandals."

Hestia, perched near the hearth that burned in the center of the room, sighed softly, more to herself than anyone else. "This is always the problem with our family." She poked at the fire with a stick, the flames flickering in response. "Too much pride. If only the hearth could be as big as the egos of the Gods."

Artemis, who had been watching the whole scene from her silver throne with a mixture of amusement and exasperation, snorted. She leaned over toward Hestia, a sly grin tugging at her lips. "I love when you get sassy, Aunt Hestia. You should do it more often."

Hestia smiled softly, but there was a tiredness in her eyes that spoke of centuries of dealing with the same squabbles. "Someone has to keep the peace," she murmured, adding another log to the hearth. "But it does get exhausting when everyone's too proud to see reason."

Across the room, Demeter sat up a little straighter, frowning slightly as she scanned the gathering of Gods. "Where's Aphrodite, anyway?" she asked, her voice carrying an edge of suspicion.

The question lingered in the air, the Gods exchanging glances with raised eyebrows. Aphrodite missing from a drama this juicy? It didn't seem right. Dionysus grinned to himself, munching another handful of popcorn, knowing full well that wherever she was, Aphrodite was likely pulling strings behind the scenes in ways only the Goddess of Love could.

Back at the quest, things were already teetering on the edge of ridiculous, and the Gods on Olympus turned their attention back to the scene unfolding on the pool like it was some kind of divine soap opera. Jason, Percy, and Octavian had split up briefly—nothing unusual there, just a moment of respite before they regrouped. At least, that's what it was supposed to be. Until Aphrodite decided to make her grand entrance.

So, that's where she was!

Percy, clueless as ever, had wandered into a secluded courtyard, and it was there that she appeared, standing in all her ethereal, radiant beauty. Hephaestus, watching from Olympus, face-palmed hard enough that the sound echoed through the chamber. "Meddlesome wives," he muttered, his voice tinged with resignation. "Here we go…"

The camera zoomed in, perfectly catching the exact moment Percy realized who was standing in front of him.

"Aphrodite?" Percy's voice was a mix of confusion and dread, the kind of tone you use when you realize you're about to be dragged into something way out of your control. He had faced monsters, a God even! All without blinking. But Aphrodite? That was a different kind of danger entirely.

The Goddess of Love, of course, looked entirely unbothered. She was radiant as always, but today, her appearance was... startlingly familiar. Percy blinked, taking in the cascade of black curls that framed her face, the olive skin glowing in the Mediterranean sunlight, and the dark, intense eyes that bore into him with a knowing look.

She looked exactly like Nico di Angelo.

Percy's confusion only deepened as he tried to make sense of what was happening. "Uh... hi?" he offered, awkwardly scratching the back of his head. "You, uh, need something?"

Aphrodite let out a long, exaggerated sigh, as if she couldn't believe how dense demigods could be sometimes. "Percy Jackson," she began, her voice dripping with exasperation, "do you even realize what a mess you've made?"

Percy blinked. "A mess? What—what are you talking about? We just started the quest."

"Not that mess." Aphrodite waved her hand dismissively, her eyes narrowing at him like she was assessing a particularly stubborn puzzle. "I'm talking about you. Specifically, your ridiculous lack of action when it comes to Nico."

At that, Percy froze. "Wait—Nico? What does—what are you—?"

Aphrodite cut him off with an incredulous laugh. "You've known him for how long now? And you let Jason swoop in first?" She threw her hands up dramatically. "Jason Grace barely spends time with Nico, compared to you! And yet, he's the one who had the courage to act. And you?" She gave him a look of pure disappointment. "You're standing there, doing nothing, like you're not in this."

Percy opened his mouth to protest, but Aphrodite was already on a roll.

"Don't give me that," she continued, eyes flashing with irritation. "You've been around Nico for years, Percy. You know him better than anyone else—better than Jason, better than anyone." She crossed her arms, her expression suddenly intense. "And yet, when it came down to it, you didn't act. You didn't fight for him."

"I didn't—wait, I didn't even—" Percy's words stumbled over themselves as he tried to process what she was saying. "I'm not... I'm not gay!"

Aphrodite's expression shifted into one of pure, frustrated amusement. "Oh, Percy, sweetie, bless your mortal heart." She sighed deeply, like she was about to explain the basics of life to a child. "Bisexuality exists, you know. And so does demisexuality. You've never been the type to fall for someone just based on looks. You care about the bond first, the connection. It's who you are."

Percy stared at her, his mouth slightly open, like he was still trying to catch up. "Wait... what?"

Aphrodite's gaze softened, but there was still an edge to her tone as she continued. "You love based on the connection you've built. That's why this whole situation with Nico and Jason has thrown you off. Because it's not about gender or labels for you—it's about Nico. And you know it." Her eyes twinkled mischievously as she leaned in a little closer. "Oh, and by the way, your idea of beauty? That's why I look like this." She gestured to her current form—Nico's form, with dark curls, olive skin, and those striking, hauntingly familiar black eyes.

Percy blinked again, his mind spinning. "You... look like Nico?"

Aphrodite raised an eyebrow, giving him a smug little smile. "What? You think I just choose randomly how I appear to mortals? No, no, Percy. I appear as your version of ideal beauty." Her smirk grew as she saw the dawning realization cross his face. "And guess what? Right now, that's Nico di Angelo."

Percy's brain felt like it had short-circuited. He couldn't even form a coherent sentence. "But—but that doesn't—Nico and I—we're just—"

"Friends?" Aphrodite finished for him, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Sure, if that's what you want to call it. But you and I both know there's more to it. Jason knows it too. That's why he kissed Nico. Because he's not afraid to act on his feelings." Aphrodite threw her hands up, as if that fact had been obvious. "He took the chance you didn't. So, what are you going to do about it?"

For a moment, Percy didn't know how to respond. His brain was still catching up to the fact that Aphrodite was standing in front of him, telling him he was basically in love with his best friend, and she just casually dropped the fact that he was demisexual like it was no big deal. It was... a lot to take in.

Percy had always been a slow burner. His feelings for Nico had developed over years of shared experience, trust, and friendship. It had always been about the bond they shared, the way they got each other, the way Nico trusted him in ways he didn't trust anyone else.

But then there was Jason, stepping in, making the first move. Something about it felt... wrong. Like Nico should be with him. Like he was the one who understood Nico's darkness, who had been there for him when things had been at their worst.

Something inside him then shifted. Something clicked.

And then it hit him, like a tidal wave of clarity crashing over his usually oblivious brain.

"I'm in love with Nico," Percy said out loud, his voice barely more than a whisper.

As soon as the words left his mouth, his entire world seemed to tilt on its axis. It wasn't that he hadn't thought about Nico before—he had, a lot—but it had always been buried under layers of friendship, concern, and the chaos of being a demigod. But now? Now it was like someone had ripped the blindfold off and forced him to stare straight into the truth.

He was in love with Nico di Angelo.

"Finally!" Aphrodite's voice rang out in the courtyard like a victorious battle cry, making Percy jump. Hands on her hips, looking like she had just won the real Trojan War. "Oh, my Gods, Percy. I thought I'd be here for centuries waiting for you to figure that out!"

Percy blinked, still too dumbfounded to form a coherent response. "I—what?"

Aphrodite laughed, a full, delighted sound that echoed off the stone walls. "Honestly, demigods can be so dense sometimes. But you, Percy Jackson? You take the cake. How can someone so sharp in battle be so clueless when it comes to their own heart?"

Up in Olympus, Poseidon groaned and face-palmed, the sound of his hand smacking against his forehead echoing in the council chambers. "Of course," Poseidon muttered to himself, slumping back in his throne. "Leave it to my son to be oblivious until Aphrodite basically hits him over the head with the truth."

The other Gods, naturally, took this opportunity to tease him mercilessly. Hermes, always quick to jump in with a snide comment, grinned as he sidled up next to Poseidon. "Maybe if he'd spent less time controlling the tides and more time learning how to read a room, he wouldn't be so dense."

"Yeah, big guy," Apollo chimed in from his golden throne, his grin as bright as the sun itself. "Took him, what? Years to figure this out? Come on, he's supposed to be the son of the God of the Sea, not the God of Emotional Repression."

Even Athena, though she normally refrained from getting involved in petty teasing, couldn't help but smirk. "For someone with such a deep connection to water, your son seems to have trouble recognizing when he's drowning in his own feelings."

Poseidon sighed dramatically, his trident tapping the floor in frustration. "Yes, yes, my son is an emotional brick wall. Everyone, get your jokes out now."

Back on the pool, Percy was still standing there, running a hand through his messy hair and looking like he'd been hit by a truck. "I can't believe... I mean... I didn't even realize..."

Aphrodite rolled her eyes. "Well, you realize it now, don't you? That's the important part. You and Jason Grace. Two heroes vying for Nico's heart. It's a perfect setup."

"Jason?" Percy said, snapping out of his stupor. The reminder that Jason had already kissed Nico sent a jolt of competitive anger through him. "Jason kissed him. Jason made the first move. I didn't do anything."

Aphrodite, sensing she had Percy right where she wanted him, smirked. "Exactly. You didn't act. But now you can. And you should. Nico is someone worth fighting for. And if you don't make your feelings clear, Jason's not going to hesitate."

That competitive spark in Percy's chest flared hotter. His mind was racing, but one thought kept repeating itself over and over: I can't lose Nico to Jason.

"I... I need to do something," Percy muttered, more to himself than to Aphrodite.

Aphrodite's smile widened. "Now you're getting it."

As Percy tried to gather his thoughts, Aphrodite waved a perfectly manicured hand, causing the air around them to shimmer. "Now, as much as I'd love to watch you wrestle with your newly discovered feelings, we're on a bit of a schedule, aren't we? You've got a quest to finish, and you're not going to win Nico's heart by standing here looking confused."

Percy snapped back to the present, frowning. "Right. The quest." He straightened up, suddenly remembering why he was even in Rome in the first place. "What do we need to do next?"

"You'll need to find Tiberinus and Rhea Silvia, they'll to help us find the Athena Parthenos." Aphrodite clapped her hands, her expression smug. "Leave it to me. You'll find them near the Tiber River, of course. I've already... arranged for them to be expecting you. They'll lead you to the statue." She paused, then added with a wink, "Maybe you can show Jason what real heroism looks like while you're at it."

Percy gave her a deadpan look. "What are you, shipping us now?"

Aphrodite didn't even hesitate. "Oh, Percy, sweetie, I've been shipping you and Nico for years. Frankly, this whole thing is long overdue."

Back on Olympus, Hera was practically frothing at the mouth. The Queen of the Gods had been watching the entire scene with growing irritation, and now she was pacing, her white robes swirling around her as she muttered angrily to herself. "That meddling Goddess," Hera hissed, throwing a glare toward Aphrodite's empty throne. "This wasn't supposed to happen! She's interfering, tipping the scales. It's not fair."

Zeus, sitting comfortably in his own throne, rolled his eyes. "Really, Hera? Fair? You want to talk about fair?"

Hera shot him a dark look, her eyes narrowing. "Don't start with me, Zeus."

Meanwhile, Aphrodite's smile on the pool grew even more mischievous, as if she could hear Hera's complaints all the way up on Olympus. She winked directly at the sky, a sly glint in her eyes. "All's fair in love and war," she said, her voice a soft, teasing purr.