As Percy, Ethan, and Alabaster strode into the throne room of Olympus, they were met with the imposing presence of the fourteen Olympians, each seated upon their respective thrones. Zeus, Poseidon, Hera, Demeter, Aphrodite, Athena, Artemis, Apollo, Ares, Hephaestus, Hermes, Hades, Hestia, and Dionysus—all were gathered, with barely contained tension.

The only one who seemed oblivious to the tension was Poseidon, who wore a proud grin as he observed his son standing tall before the assembly. Hades, Demeter, and Hera shot daggers at Ares, their gazes ablaze with fury and indignation. Percy, Ethan, and Alabaster joined in the fierce glare; their collective anger directed squarely at the God of War. Even Zeus, the King of Olympus, seemed to exude an air of exasperation, his brow furrowed with annoyance. It was evident that he would rather be dealing with any other matter than the one currently unfolding before him. Which was especially alarming, considering the fact that Percy still held in his possession Zeus' precious lightning bolt. One would think that Zeus would want to be there to get it back, but no. Zeus wanted to be anywhere but in the presence of his angry older brother.

The atmosphere crackled with tension, the silence punctuated only by the echoing footsteps of the demigods as they approached the Olympian thrones. Percy's eyes narrowed as he locked gazes with Ares, a silent challenge passing between them like a bolt of lightning.

Artemis, seated beside her twin brother Apollo, exchanged a knowing glance with him, her lips curled into a smirk. "Looks like Ares has dug himself into quite the hole this time," she whispered, her voice carrying a hint of amusement.

Apollo chuckled softly in agreement, casting a sidelong glance at his beleaguered brother. "He always did have a knack for stirring up trouble," he replied, his tone laced with sarcasm. "But this? Even I didn't see this coming."

Getting fed up with all this posturing, Zeus, ever the picture of regal arrogance, wasted no time in asserting his authority. "Return what rightfully belongs to me," Zeus demanding the return of his precious lightning bolt with a flick of his hand and a voice that echoed with the howling of the wind.

Percy's lips curled into a defiant sneer as he retrieved the lightning bolt from his bag. With a flick of his wrist, tossing it back to Zeus with all the nonchalance he could muster. "Here you go, Your Highness," Percy retorted, his tone laced with sarcasm.

As the bolt arced through the air, crackling with the power of the heavens, the clouds surrounding Olympus began to roil and churn, charged with the raw energy of Zeus' domain. With a triumphant flourish, Zeus caught the bolt, his expression smug and self-assured as he reclaimed his iconic weapon. Zeus would not allow a demigod to speak to him like that, but he was so happy to have his bolt back that he did not seem to even notice Percy's lack of decorum.

Poseidon, ever the proud father, couldn't resist the opportunity to boast about his son. With a broad grin, he leaned forward, his voice booming with pride. "I knew from the start that Percy hadn't stolen the bolt," he declared, his chest puffed out with paternal pride. "My son is a true hero, and no amount of slander could tarnish his honor."

Dionysus rolled his eyes at Poseidon's boastful display, shooting Hermes a knowing glance. Hermes grinned mischievously, nodding in agreement. Both brothers seem amused by Poseidon's blatant favoritism. Athena chose that moment to clear her throat with an air of authority, she turned her piercing gaze towards her father, who had been preoccupied with the return of his lightning bolt.

"Father," Athena interjected, "let us not forget the importance of acknowledging the bravery and resourcefulness displayed by these demigods in completing their quest." She sounded pained by the mere fact that she was complementing a son of Poseidon. But a promise was a promise, and she swore an oath to Niccolo di Angelo to make sure the demigods got rewarded as they deserved. "A letter of recommendation from you would serve would undoubtedly aid them in their future studies."

Zeus, begrudgingly torn from his reverie, cast a begrudging glance in Athena's direction. With a resigned sigh, he acquiesced to her request, albeit with evident reluctance. Waving his hand with a dismissive gesture, he conjured forth three pieces of parchment, each one hovering before him as if awaiting his command.

Athena nodded in approval, her steely gaze softening slightly at her father's compliance. "Thank you, Father," she said, her tone laced with a hint of gratitude. "I trust that your letter will serve as a fitting tribute to the bravery of these demigods."

As Ethan, Percy, and Alabaster each received a sheet of paper, Ethan couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at the blankness of the parchment. "Seriously?" he remarked, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "A blank piece of paper?"

Alabaster, always quick to provide an explanation, turned to his friend with a wry smile. "Ah, but don't be fooled by its appearance," he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "This is no ordinary parchment. It's enchanted."

Percy leaned in, curiosity piqued. "Enchanted? What do you mean?"

Alabaster chuckled, always enjoying the opportunity to talk about magic. "It's a magical paper," he explained. "You see, once you start dictating your recommendation letter, the parchment will magically transcribe your words and format them into a formal letter. And when you're done, it will even add Lord Zeus' signature automatically."

Ethan raised an eyebrow, a hint of skepticism in his expression. "So, we're supposed to write our own recommendation letters?" he asked incredulously.

Athena's exasperation was palpable as she shot Zeus a pointed look, her brow furrowed in disbelief. "Father, this is for their education," she chided, her voice tinged with frustration. "You could have at least put some effort into it."

Zeus merely shrugged, his expression nonchalant as he waved his hand dismissively. "They should be grateful that it will bear my signature," he replied, his tone unapologetic. "Besides, a recommendation from the King of Olympus carries enough weight on its own."

Percy rolled his eyes at Zeus' arrogance, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Yeah, because nothing screams 'effort' like a blank piece of paper," he muttered under his breath, earning a stifled chuckle from Ethan and Alabaster.

Athena shot her father a disapproving glare before turning her attention back to the demigods. "Ignore him," she said with a sigh, her tone sympathetic. Or at least, as sympathetic as she could when facing a child of Poseidon. "Just dictate your letters and the magic will take care of the rest."

With a resigned nod, Percy, Ethan, and Alabaster set to work, each carefully crafting their own letter of recommendation on the enchanted parchment. Despite the lack of effort on Zeus' part, they understood the importance of this opportunity and were determined to make the most of it. And as they finished their letters and watched Zeus' signature appeared at the bottom of each one, they couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction.

Aphrodite, with her keen eye for elegance and refinement, couldn't help but appreciate the fine craftsmanship of the enchanted parchment. As she observed the paper's exquisite Arachnean-silk fiber and delicate eggshell finish, a satisfied hum escaped her lips. "Oh, darling," she purred with delight, "this paper is positively divine. The admissions committee won't be able to resist its allure."

Percy, momentarily distracted from admiring his first recommendation letter, turned his incredulous gaze towards the other gods, a mixture of curiosity and frustration evident in his expression. With a furrowed brow, he voiced the question that had been gnawing at him since Nico had mentioned the recommendation letters. "So, um, guys," he began, his tone laced with skepticism, "Nico mentioned these recommendation letters, but like, no one's mentioned which university they're for. I do not believe that Harvard or Columbia will accept a letter of recommendation from Zeus? They will laugh at our faces!"

The gods exchanged nervous glances amongst themselves, a palpable tension hanging in the air. It was clear that they hadn't anticipated this line of questioning, and for a moment, uncertainty flickered across their faces. Hera, ever the voice of authority, cleared her throat delicately before speaking. "Ah, yes, well," she began, her words carefully measured, "rest assured, dear demigods, all will be revealed in due time. The specifics of the university will become clear when the time is right."

Percy's skepticism only seemed to grow at Hera's cryptic response, his brow furrowing deeper as he exchanged a knowing glance with Ethan and Alabaster. It was clear that the gods were keeping something from them, and Percy wasn't about to let it go without further inquiry.

"Right," he muttered under his breath, his tone tinged with sarcasm. "Because keeping secrets from the people risking their lives for your quests is totally cool."

As the gods shifted uncomfortably under Percy's pointed gaze, it was evident that this conversation was far from over. Athena, ever the master of deflection, swiftly intervened to steer the conversation away from the touchy subject of New Rome University. No Greek demigod should know about their Roman counterpart. At least, not yet.

With a pointed cough, Athena redirected their focus towards the pressing matter at hand—the theft of the Helm of Darkness and the Lightning Bolt. "Ahem," she interjected, her tone laced with urgency, "perhaps it's best we address the issue of the stolen artifacts first. We need to determine who could have orchestrated such a heist, as it's clear that Ares, though capable of many things, may not possess the cunning to pull off such a feat."

The gods and demigods alike turned their attention towards Ares, their gazes brimming with suspicion and disdain. Ares, for his part, met their accusatory stares with a defiant scowl, his jaw clenched in frustration. Meanwhile, Alabaster, ever resourceful, rummaged through his backpack until he produced a battered shoebox—some of the few items salvaged from the wreckage of the bus explosion. With a solemn expression, he presented the box to the Gods. Hades then summoned it into his hand with a flick of shadows. As Hades inspected the contents, a furrow formed on his brow, signaling his growing concern.

"These shoes," Hades began, his voice solemn, "are cursed. They drag their wearer down into the depths of Tartarus."

As Hades' words hung heavy in the air, a chill descended upon the room, the warmth and noise dissipating as the gravity of the situation settled upon them all. Percy felt a shiver crawl up his spine at the realization of the danger they could have faced. The thought of any of his friends wearing the cursed artifact sent a wave of apprehension coursing through him, and he exchanged a worried glance with Ethan and Alabaster.

Zeus's thunderous voice reverberated through the hall of Olympus, his eyes ablaze with righteous fury as he demanded an explanation from his son. "What in the name of Tartarus were you thinking?" he thundered, his voice echoing with the force of a lightning strike.

Hera, equally incensed, turned her piercing gaze upon the demigods, her voice sharp as a whip. "Who had provided you with the cursed shoes?" She demanded to know.

Alabaster trembled slightly under her overwhelming stare but managed to answer by some kind of miracle. "They were a gift from Luke Castellan."

A collective gasp swept through the assembly. Hermes, the messenger of the gods, recoiled in disbelief. "My son gave you those?" He exclaimed, his voice tinged with a mixture of shock and dismay. He looked so pained and betrayed that it made Percy feel bad, he clearly loved his son.

"It does make sense," Demeter hummed thoughtfully. "A son of the God of Thieves involved in a theft."

"But why would a demigod seek to incite war among the gods? At the end the ones who pay the most during those wars are our mortal children." Hephaestus raised a questioning brow, his curiosity piqued.

Dionysus let out a derisive cackle, his laughter echoing through the chamber like the chiming of wine glasses. "Oh, I know Luke Castellan," he chortled, his voice dripping with dark amusement. "I know him well from camp. He harbors a grudge the size of Atlas against his father and the gods in general."

Dionysus leaned back on his throne, a look of contemplation crossing his features as he continued his train of thought. "Things at camp might be better now," he mused, his voice carrying a hint of wistfulness, "with all the new cabins and gods being forced to acknowledge their children. But back then, the ones that suffered the bulk of the unrecognized demigods was Hermes' Cabin."

"Luke never liked that," Dionysus continued, his voice tinged with bitterness, "and after the quest he was sent on by Hermes, in which he almost lost an eye, his resentment only grew."

Athena shook her head in disbelief, her brow furrowed in thought as she struggled to understand the complexities of Luke's motivations. "It still makes no sense," she murmured, her tone tinged with frustration. "As Hephestus has already pointed out, Luke would know that in a war between gods, the ones who suffer the most are the demigods. Why would he push for this? And why drag the demigods into Tartarus?"

Ares heaved a heavy sigh, the weight of the gods' accusing stares bearing down on him like a ton of bricks. With a resigned expression, he finally relented, his voice tinged with frustration as he recounted the ill-conceived plan concocted between him and Luke Castellan.

"The plan was simple," Ares began, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "After the demigods lost their resources at the bus explosion, I would swoop in with a seemingly harmless request. Once they completed the small quest, I would hand them a bag containing new resources and the lightning bolt hidden within it, then the three demigods would make a beeline for the Underworld."

Percy's eyes widened in disbelief as Ares laid out the absurdity of the plan. It was so outrageously reckless that Percy couldn't help but wonder how anyone could have thought it would succeed. "And then what?" Percy interjected, his voice laced with incredulity. "You expected us to waltz into the Underworld and just believe that Uncle Hades had something to do with this whole bullshit?! I am best friends with his son, I know about the code of conduct of the Underworld royalty. Since the get go we knew that the line in the prophecy telling me to go west to face the god who has turned, was not Uncle Hades!"

Ares shrugged nonchalantly. "Uncle Hades would prove you as the lightning thief," he continued, his words dripping with disdain. "And he would also believe that you possessed the helm of darkness. With tensions between Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades at an all-time high, a war would inevitably ensue."

Percy's blood ran cold at the thought of being caught in the crossfire of a divine conflict. He had faced monsters before, but the prospect of being embroiled in a war between the most powerful beings in existence was beyond anything he had ever imagined. And here was Ares talking as if the prospect of a full-blown war between the Big Three was nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

"But I had no knowledge of those cursed flying shoes," Ares added hastily, his tone defensive. "That was all Hermes' brat's doing, not mine."

The revelation sent a ripple of unease through the room, each god and demigod struggling with the implications of Ares's confession. Artemis herself looked troubled; brows frowned. "What would Luke Castellan want from Tartarus?" she mused aloud, her voice laced with concern. The thought of anyone willingly seeking out the depths of the abyss was enough to make her stomach churn.

Apollo nodded in agreement, his expression grim. "Or maybe the right question is, who would Luke Castellan want from Tartarus?" he suggested, his tone tinged with apprehension. "After all, there are many powerful enemies of ours in there."

The room fell silent, the weight of Apollo's words hanging heavy in the air. No one dared to voice the fear that gnawed at the edges of their consciousness, the fear that Luke Castellan's motives were far more sinister than they had initially realized.

Hades's voice then cut through the tension like a scythe through wheat, commanding the attention of every deity in the room. Ares froze on his throne, a flicker of unease flashing across his face as he braced himself for what was to come.

"Well, as entertaining as this true detective's stitch has been," Hades began, his tone dripping with sarcasm, "I do believe that my nephew and I have a date with Horcus."

The mere mention of the God of Eternal Punishment and Broken Oaths sent a shiver down everyone's spine. Even Zeus, accustomed to wielding authority with impunity, couldn't help but feel a pang of apprehension at the prospect of his son facing Horcus's wrath.

"Hades..." Zeus started to intervene, but the icy glare of his older brother silenced him mid-sentence. The air grew heavy with the weight of Hades's aura, his simmering anger palpable as he laid bare the extent of Ares's transgressions.

"Ares crossed a line, and he needs to face the consequences," Hades hissed, his voice laced with venom. "My son was unable to defend himself because he was ordered by the Fates not to get involved in your stupid quest! And your son almost killed him... the Underworld wants retribution!"

And then, in a swirl of shadows, both Hades and Ares vanished from sight, leaving behind an eerie stillness in their wake. Only Percy, the smirk playing at the corners of his lips, seemed unaffected by the chaos unfolding around him. With a sense of grim satisfaction, he knew that Ares would soon pay dearly for daring to harm his beloved Ghost King.