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.

49. ACT V - PART II

The Hunt of Artemis had stopped to make camp under the vast Australian night sky. A breeze stirred through the eucalyptus trees as the silver tents of the Huntresses shimmered in the moonlight. The girls moved in perfect synchronization—raising the tents, preparing the campfire, and generally doing all the things that made them a terrifyingly efficient group.

Reyna had become something of a staple in their ranks. She moved with ease among them, her silver armor catching the light as she tightened the ropes on her tent. Beside her, Bianca di Angelo, Nico's older sister and full-fledged Huntress, adjusted her bow before plopping down on the ground, clearly content after a long day of traveling.

"You know," Reyna said casually as she sat down beside Bianca, her eyes glinting with mischief, "Hylla sent me an Iris message the other day."

Bianca raised an eyebrow, a small smirk playing on her lips. "Oh? And what's our dear 'older sister' up to?"

Reyna grinned, leaning in conspiratorially. "She was gossiping. Can you believe it? My sister gossiping, about Nico and Jason of all things!"

At that, Bianca's interest piqued. She sat up a little straighter, a knowing smile spreading across her face. "Oh, do tell."

Reyna shook her head, amused. "Apparently, Jason's trying to woo Nico, but in the most awkward way possible. Hylla said it's like watching a baby giraffe try to walk for the first time."

Bianca burst into laughter, almost doubling over. "Jason? Awkward? Oh Gods, that's too good." She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. "I mean, he's Mr. Perfect when it comes to leadership and fighting monsters, but wooing Nico? I can't even imagine."

"It's hilarious," Reyna agreed, crossing her arms with a grin. "Hylla said that every time Jason tries to get closer to Nico, it's like he fumbles through it. Nico's totally oblivious—has no idea Jason's even trying."

"Of course he doesn't," Bianca said with a snort, tossing her dark hair over her shoulder. "My brother could probably walk into a trap set by Aphrodite herself and not notice. Romance isn't exactly in his toolkit."

"Yeah, well, Jason's trying," Reyna said, a hint of fondness in her voice. "Problem is, Nico's so used to carrying the weight of the Underworld that he can't even see someone caring about him in that way. I think Hylla's torn between laughing and smacking Jason upside the head."

Bianca giggled. "Honestly, I can't blame her. I mean, it's Nico. He's not exactly… conventional in the whole 'relationship' department."

Reyna's smirk widened as she leaned closer, lowering her voice for dramatic effect. "It gets better."

Bianca's eyes gleamed with anticipation. "Do tell."

"Hylla also mentioned that Persephone's been... campaigning, let's say, for Nico to not just end up with Jason, but with Percy too."

Bianca's jaw dropped in mock disbelief. "Persephone's pushing for a three-way relationship? So, that's what papa meant! He was so awkward last time I saw him, stuttering questions about Percy and Jason. Stuttering! Does this mean that Persephone asked Hylla for help? Oh Gods, poor Nico. That's... I mean, how's he supposed to handle two people, let alone Percy?"

Reyna chuckled. "Apparently, Persephone's reasoning is that Nico's spent so long in the shadows, dealing with everyone else's problems, that he deserves the best of both worlds. It's like matchmaking, Olympian edition."

Bianca shook her head, laughing incredulously. "I love how this is Persephone's way of showing she cares. 'Oh, let me just orchestrate a love triangle for my stepson, that'll definitely fix everything.'"

Reyna grinned. "Well, she's nothing if not bold. She's been dropping hints every time Nico and her have tea, the few times Hylla tagged along she spent it trying to reign in her laughter. Nico is like this hardheaded wall of obliviousness and Persephone is torn between cooing over how adorable Nico is and turning her stepson into a dandelion!"

Bianca's laughter quieted into a thoughtful hum. "You know, as ridiculous as that sounds, it's not the craziest thing I've heard in our world. Nico's always felt like he didn't fit in, but maybe being with Jason and Percy—two people who actually care about him—would give him something normal. Well, as normal as demigods can get."

Reyna nodded, her expression softening slightly. "I think you're right. Jason and Percy, both understand him in different ways. Jason sees Nico's sense of duty, his Roman side. And Percy… well, Percy gets the darkness. He's been there. He knows what it's like to carry a prophecy on your back."

"Still," Bianca said, her lips quirking into a mischievous smile, "imagine Nico's face if Percy and Jason ever actually tried to make that happen. He'd probably run off to the Underworld just to avoid the conversation."

Reyna snorted, trying to suppress her own laughter. "Hylla thinks he'd shadow-travel out of pure panic. She said it'd be the fastest exit in Roman history."

They both dissolved into giggles, imagining the scenario. The idea of Nico being caught between Percy's laid-back heroism and Jason's awkward attempts at romance was too much to handle.

After a moment, Bianca sighed, still smiling. "Honestly, though, I just want Nico to be happy. He's spent too much time thinking he doesn't deserve it. If Persephone's bizarre matchmaking actually helps him see that, I'll support it. Even if it means dealing with Jason's awkward flirting."

Reyna nodded, her expression softening again. "Me too. He deserves a break. Maybe being with Percy and Jason would give him that. Someone to lean on, you know?"

"Yeah," Bianca agreed, a faraway look in her eyes. "Maybe it's not such a crazy idea after all."

They sat in companionable silence for a moment, the crackling campfire casting flickering shadows across their faces. The sounds of the Huntresses moving around the camp filled the air, along with the distant calls of night creatures. Despite the ridiculousness of their conversation, there was an underlying hope between them—a hope that Nico, for all his burdens and darkness, might actually find something resembling peace.

Finally, Reyna stood up, brushing the dust off her armor. "Well, that's enough gossip for one night. I'm going to check the perimeter. You?"

Bianca stretched, cracking her back with a groan. "I'll join you in a bit. I need to finish sharpening my arrows. Can't let Artemis down, you know?"

Reyna smirked. "Of course not."

As Reyna turned to walk away, Bianca called after her. "And hey, if you ever hear more about Jason's love life, I expect full reports!"

Reyna laughed over her shoulder. "You'll be the first to know, I promise."

Bianca chuckled to herself as she pulled out her bow, a smile lingering on her lips. Smiling to herself, Bianca settled in by the fire, her mind already imagining the chaos that was sure to unfold the next time she saw her brother.

Reyna had barely left the campfire when she spotted Thalia leaning against a tree nearby, her spear resting casually over her shoulder. Without a word, Reyna gave a quick nod, and the two of them headed to check the perimeter together. Bianca, meanwhile, finished sharpening her arrows, she then stood, stretching her legs and rolling her shoulders as she glanced toward the silver glow of Artemis' tent. She figured she'd check in with the Goddess. But as Bianca made her way over, she spotted someone else emerging from the tent.

Annabeth.

Annabeth was grinning from ear to ear, which immediately set off Bianca's curiosity alarms. Annabeth didn't smile like that unless she'd either solved some ridiculous puzzle or outmaneuvered an enemy. And given her status as the smartest person in any room she walked into, it could be either.

Before Bianca could call out, Annabeth, lost in her own thoughts, practically floated away in the direction of the archery range, her expression so smug that Bianca almost expected to see her holding a chessboard with "Checkmate" written on it.

What's she so happy about? Bianca thought, her brow furrowing. With Annabeth distracted, Bianca turned her attention to Artemis' tent.

She slipped inside, the cool interior a welcome change from the heat outside. The Goddess of the Hunt sat at a small table, absentmindedly carving something into a piece of wood. Her hair glowed softly in the dim light of the tent, but her eyes were sharp and alert, as they always were. Bianca was careful not to disturb the quiet reverence that filled the space whenever Artemis was around, but she wasn't about to let her curiosity die down, either.

"My Lady, Artemis," Bianca said respectfully, though a grin tugged at her lips. "What's got Annabeth all chipper? I saw her leaving here with a smile bigger than Percy after winning a blue cupcake eating contest."

Artemis glanced up from her carving with a knowing smile. "Ah, yes. Annabeth has been in quite a good mood, hasn't she?" She set the carving tool down and leaned back slightly, her silver eyes gleaming with amusement. "She's organizing something that, I suspect, has been on her mind for quite some time."

Bianca raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh? Annabeth's always organizing something. What is it this time?"

Artemis gestured toward an unrolled map on the table, where different demigod schools—including Elysium Prep—were marked. "A few of my Huntresses have expressed interest in exploring the mortal world a little more closely. Not for battle or quests, but for learning."

Bianca blinked in surprise. "Wait—school? You mean, they want to go to school?"

Artemis nodded, a hint of a smile still playing on her lips. "Indeed. When Nico extended his invitation to open Elysium Prep to the Hunt, I wasn't entirely convinced at first. But after Annabeth spoke with some of the Huntresses, it became clear that there is genuine interest. These girls want to learn more, to expand their knowledge beyond the wilds."

Bianca laughed, trying to picture a group of Artemis' Huntresses sitting in a classroom, listening to a lecture about calculus or ancient literature. "Okay, now I'm curious. Who exactly wants to trade in archery and monster hunting for... algebra?"

Artemis chuckled softly. "Not all of them, of course. Many are perfectly content with the freedom of the Hunt, but there are those who wish to understand the world of mortals better. To see it from a new perspective. Annabeth has graciously offered to help organize the logistics of it. For a short while, at least."

Bianca's grin widened. "So that's why she was practically glowing. She gets to organize everything. That's her version of fun."

"Exactly," Artemis said with a wry smile. "She'll be handling the process—figuring out which Huntresses want to attend, what subjects they're interested in, and how to incorporate their education without disrupting their duties in the Hunt."

Bianca folded her arms, leaning against one of the tent posts. "I can't wait to see this. I mean, it's a great idea, don't get me wrong. But can you imagine some of these girls sitting in a classroom? If someone so much as hints at disrespect, half of them might challenge their teachers to a duel."

Artemis raised an eyebrow, her eyes gleaming with pride. "I'm sure they'll be well-behaved. The Huntresses are disciplined, after all."

"Disciplined, sure," Bianca said, biting back a smirk. "But let's not forget how competitive they are. I'm willing to bet someone's going to turn 'perfect attendance' into a battle for survival."

Artemis' lips twitched in amusement. "You may not be wrong."

Bianca chuckled. She couldn't wait to see Nico's face when he found out. "Does Nico know yet?"

"Not fully," Artemis replied. "But he will soon. This was his idea, after all, and now that Annabeth is on board, I imagine everything will be in place before long. By the next year for sure."

Bianca hummed in thought. Nico, inviting the Huntresses to his school. She could already picture him awkwardly trying to adjust to having a group of immortal girls in his classrooms, silently judging every mortal subject they had to study. The thought made her smile even wider.

"Well," Bianca said, standing up straighter, "this is going to be fun to watch. I hope I get a front-row seat when the Hunt arrives at Elysium Prep."

Artemis nodded, her silver eyes glimmering with amusement. "I'm sure it will be... an interesting adjustment for all parties involved."

Bianca bowed her head respectfully. "Thanks for the intel, Lady Artemis. I'm sure Nico's going to be thrilled."

Artemis gave a soft, knowing smile. "Nico has handled much. I believe he will handle this as well."

With that, Bianca exited the tent, shaking her head as she imagined the chaos that was about to unfold. Annabeth organizing a group of immortal Huntresses to go to school? Nico, completely unaware that he was about to have his life turned upside down? Jason's awkward crush? And Persephone's grand campaign for Nico, Percy, and Jason to end up in some sort of three-way romantic entanglement?

The world out of the wild was weird, but nothing could top the absurdity of demigod life. Bianca chuckled to herself as she made her way back to the campfire, already plotting how to bring this up the next time she saw Nico. The sheer amount of embarrassment she could squeeze out of her little brother was going to be glorious.

For now, though, she'd enjoy the peace and quiet of the Australian night—before everything inevitably exploded into chaos.

As soon as Bianca left the tent, her usual bright energy trailing after her, Artemis' smile dropped. The weight of millennia seemed to settle back onto her shoulders, and the cool, composed Goddess who led the Hunt remained. The crackling of the campfire outside was faint, barely audible through the heavy canvas walls of the tent. Artemis exhaled, her silver eyes darkening slightly as she turned back to the small wooden carving she'd been working on.

A shimmer of golden light flickered in the air, and a moment later, Apollo appeared beside her, his usual smug grin already plastered on his face. He didn't waste any time with greetings, typical for him, just leaned casually against a table like he'd been there the whole time.

"So," Apollo began, that casual tone of his never quite hiding the underlying curiosity, "how's the new lieutenant doing?"

Artemis didn't look up immediately. She continued carving the small, intricate lines into the wood, her movements precise and steady. "Bianca has risen to the occasion, as I expected," she said, her voice as calm and measured as ever. "She's proven herself time and again. The Hunt respects her, and she commands them well."

Apollo's grin widened, though there was something sharper behind it. "Good. I always thought she had potential, even back when she was just a confused little ghost tagging along with her brother. An Emperor and a lieutenant, Uncle Hades must be proud of his children."

"That he is," Artemis finally looked up, meeting his golden gaze with her own. "Bianca is more than capable," she continued. "She's grown into her role. But don't pretend you don't know why I chose her."

Apollo gave a half-shrug, pretending innocence. "Political, sure. Everything's a game with Gods, right? Can't make a move without considering all the ripples."

Artemis sighed, setting the carving aside and straightening in her chair. "Bianca was the obvious choice. Her seniority in the Hunt, her connection to the Underworld… all of it made her the best option. Not choosing her would've been a slight. To Nico. To Persephone. To Hades."

Apollo's grin faltered, and for the briefest second, a shadow passed over his face. He understood what it meant to get on the bad side of the Underworld. Everyone in the pantheon did. "Yeah, no one wants that smoke. I've seen what Persephone can do when she's mad." He shuddered dramatically, his usually jovial demeanor dropping. "Sometimes I forget how scary our sister can be, but after what she did to Ares? Yeah, no one will ever forget. No wonder, she had managed to capture our uncle's attention."

Artemis' eyes flickered with a hint of amusement despite the seriousness of the conversation. "No one will forget for sure. Ares certainly won't."

Both of them shuddered at the memory. It had been a stark reminder that while Persephone might seem like the softer, kinder counterpart to Hades, she was still the Queen of the Underworld. And like everything in the Underworld, there was a darkness to her that shouldn't be underestimated.

"But," Artemis continued, her voice softening slightly, "even though choosing Bianca was the correct move, politically and practically… it wasn't my first choice."

Apollo raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued again. "Really? Not Bianca? Then who?"

"Reyna," Artemis answered, without hesitation. "I would have wanted her as my second. She has the strength, the discipline, the natural leadership that would have made her an excellent lieutenant. Not to mention, she has more experience than Bianca."

Apollo whistled softly, his fingers tapping lightly on the table. "Reyna, huh? Yeah, she'd fit the role, no question. She's a powerhouse. But with two children of the Big Three in your Hunt?" He gave a mock shudder. "That would've raised eyebrows. Zeus would've thrown a fit."

"Exactly," Artemis said, her voice tight. "As much as I respect Reyna, I can't afford to invite that kind of imbalance. To dismiss two daughters of the Big Three would've created tension within the Olympians." She paused, glancing at the tent flap where Bianca had left. "Besides, Bianca has seniority over Thalia. Not choosing her would have caused far more problems than it would have solved."

Apollo folded his arms, a thoughtful look crossing his usually carefree face. "Politics, always politics. And yet you still keep things running smoothly, big sister. Impressive."

Artemis didn't respond to the compliment, her gaze distant as she spoke. "Bianca has done wonderfully, and the Hunt thrives under her leadership. But that doesn't change the fact that… I miss Zoe."

The name hung in the air between them, heavy with memories. Apollo's face softened, his usual bravado giving way to something more real. "Zoe Nightshade," he murmured, his voice uncharacteristically serious.

"A millennium of companionship," Artemis said quietly, her silver eyes clouded with the weight of ages. "I had Zoe beside me for so long, longer than most could understand. She knew my thoughts before I spoke them, anticipated my needs before I asked. She was… irreplaceable."

Apollo watched his sister carefully. He wasn't often the one to deal with emotional matters—he usually preferred the lighthearted, easy approach—but even he understood how much Zoe had meant to Artemis. "She was one of a kind," he said softly. "But you've done well with Bianca. She's not Zoe, no one ever will be, but she's good for the Hunt."

Artemis nodded, though the sadness in her eyes didn't fade. "I know. Bianca is capable, and she's already proven her loyalty. But it's hard to replace someone who's been by your side for so long. It's… a void."

Apollo let out a soft sigh, leaning back and crossing his arms. "Yeah, I get that. When you have someone with you for centuries, it's like losing part of yourself when they're gone. But hey, that's the thing about mortals, right? They change, they move on. And we're stuck here, watching them fade while we stay the same."

Artemis didn't respond immediately, her thoughts lingering on Zoe. She had seen countless Huntresses come and go, had said goodbye to more than she could count. But Zoe had been different. Zoe had been more than a Huntress—she had been her second, her confidant, her companion through the long stretches of immortality.

"It's the price of what we are," Artemis finally said, her voice low. "But that doesn't make it any easier."

Apollo, for once, had no clever remark to follow up with. He simply stood there, silent, giving his sister the space to grieve in her own way. After a moment, though, he offered her a small, genuine smile.

Apollo stood there for a moment, watching his sister, who was so rarely vulnerable that seeing her like this—silent, reflective—was almost more than he could handle. Artemis wasn't the type to admit when she was hurting. That wasn't her style. She was all strength and cool precision, the Goddess who never wavered. But now, with the weight of Zoe's absence hanging over her, she seemed… lost in a way that Apollo wasn't used to seeing.

Without thinking, Apollo crossed the small space between them and did something he rarely ever did. He wrapped his arms around his sister and pulled her into a hug. Artemis stiffened at first, clearly caught off guard. She wasn't exactly the "hugging" type, especially when it came to Apollo and his often overbearing warmth. But after a brief hesitation, she let him. She didn't push him away or roll her eyes like she normally would. She just stood there, allowing him to hold her.

That alone made Apollo's chest tighten. His twin—his fierce, untouchable sister—was letting him in. Which meant she must've been feeling far worse than he'd realized. The thought hit him harder than he expected.

Apollo's voice softened, quieter than usual. "Hey, it's okay. I'm here."

Artemis didn't respond immediately. Her hands stayed by her sides, stiff, as if she didn't quite know what to do with them. But she didn't move away either. That, more than anything, told Apollo how deep her pain went. The fact that she was letting him hug her—the fact that she needed the comfort—spoke volumes.

For once, Apollo didn't crack a joke, didn't try to lighten the mood. He just held her, feeling that familiar weight of their shared immortality, their endless responsibilities, and the loss that even gods couldn't escape. Zoe had been a constant for Artemis for millennia, and losing her had ripped something irreplaceable away.

When Artemis finally spoke, her voice was so quiet he almost didn't hear it. "I miss her, Apollo."

"I know," he whispered, his voice thick with the weight of it. "I miss her too. She was... She was one of a kind."

He felt Artemis stiffen a little more at that, her jaw clenched tightly as if she were holding back a flood of emotions. Apollo had seen that look before—the one where Artemis forced herself to be strong, to never show weakness. But this time, there was no battle to fight, no quest to complete. It was just them, and the grief that even a goddess couldn't outrun.

"I shouldn't have saved her," Artemis said, and there was a crack in her voice, something raw that Apollo rarely heard from her. "She was always there. For so long. And I let her..."

"You didn't let her do anything," Apollo said, pulling back just enough to meet her eyes. "Zoe made her own choices, Artemis. You know that. She wouldn't have wanted to sit on the sidelines. She wanted to fight. She wanted to be there with you."

Artemis didn't meet his gaze, her silver eyes clouded with old memories. "I know. But it doesn't make it easier."

Apollo nodded, understanding more than he let on. He, too, had his share of regrets. Gods didn't talk about it much, but for all their power and immortality, they couldn't control everything. Losing Zoe had reminded them of that, painfully so.

"I panicked, you know," Apollo admitted, his tone growing quieter as he kept his arms around her. "When you went missing. Back when we thought you were… I didn't handle it well."

Artemis frowned slightly, confusion flickering across her features. "I remember. You acted as if the world was ending."

"For me, it kinda was," Apollo said with a weak laugh, trying to downplay it but failing miserably. "You're my twin, Artemis. You're not supposed to disappear. I can't… I can't do this without you."

She blinked, clearly surprised by the honesty in his voice. Apollo wasn't known for his depth, after all. Usually, he covered everything with humor and bravado. But this—this was different.

"When you were gone, I did something… rash," he continued, his voice tightening with regret. "I used my blessing on Nico. Forced dreams on him. Horrible ones, so he'd tell the camps what happened to you."

Artemis' eyes widened, but she said nothing, letting him continue.

"I got on Hades' bad side because of it. He hasn't spoken to me since. My favorite uncle, and he won't even look at me anymore. I messed up, big time. But I'd do it again, Artemis." He swallowed hard, feeling the emotion rise in his throat. "I'd get on every God's bad side if it meant getting you back."

Artemis looked at him, really looked at him. There was something soft in her gaze now, something more than just the strong, untouchable Goddess she showed to the world. She was his twin, his other half, and in this moment, Apollo felt that connection more strongly than ever.

"I'm back," she said, her voice steadying a little. "You don't need to worry anymore."

Apollo chuckled softly, though there was a trace of sadness in it. "Yeah, but you lost Zoe. I wish you hadn't. I really do."

Artemis' gaze dropped to the ground, her fingers twitching slightly, like she wanted to say something but couldn't quite find the words. After a long moment, she simply nodded. "I do too."

They stood there in silence for a moment longer, the quiet between them heavy but not uncomfortable. It was the kind of silence that came with centuries of shared experiences, of being siblings in a world that often demanded too much from them. Apollo knew better than to push further—he knew Artemis would need her space, her solitude, as always. But for now, he was here. And that was enough.

Finally, Artemis pulled away, and Apollo let his arms drop, though his heart still felt heavy with everything unsaid. She gave him a small nod, her expression composed once more, though there was a softness in her eyes that hadn't been there before.

"Thank you," she said quietly, her voice just above a whisper.

Apollo gave her a lopsided grin, the kind that usually meant he was about to make a joke, but this time, there was no punchline. "Anytime, big sister."

Just as the weight of the conversation between Apollo and Artemis settled into something that resembled peace, a soft, golden shimmer appeared in the air. A summoning. Apollo frowned, glancing at the faint glow on his wrist. A message from Olympus.

"Seriously?" he muttered, his usual carefree demeanor immediately souring. "Right now?"

Artemis glanced at him, her eyes narrowing as her own wrist flickered with the same golden glow. An Olympian summons. She and Apollo exchanged a look, equally confused.

"It seems Father has called a meeting," Artemis said, her tone clipped, already back in her role as the level-headed leader. She stood, her expression shifting back to its usual cool reserve, though a trace of irritation flickered in her silver eyes.

Apollo groaned dramatically, throwing his hands up. "Come on, we were having a moment. Can't we just, I don't know, skip it this once? What could be so important that—?"

Artemis shot him a look. "We don't get to ignore summons, Apollo. You know that."

He sighed, flopping his arms down at his sides. "Yeah, yeah. You're right. Can't wait to hear Father go on and on about how 'important' it is to meet when it's probably something like deciding what shade of thunderbolt looks best for the summer solstice."

Artemis' mouth twitched, though she didn't smile. "Try to behave this time."

Apollo gave her a mock salute. "No promises."

Before they left, Artemis turned back toward the tent flap, her eyes scanning the camp. Bianca was talking to one of the Huntresses near the campfire, laughing about something—probably a story involving Nico, judging by the grin on her face. Artemis straightened and called out, "Bianca."

Bianca looked up, immediately heading toward Artemis with that familiar look of respect and readiness. "Yes, my lady?"

"I need you to take charge while I'm gone. There's been a summons from Olympus. Shouldn't be long," Artemis said, her tone authoritative but calm.

Bianca nodded, her expression quickly sobering. "Of course, my lady. I'll keep things under control."

Artemis gave her a brief nod of approval before turning to Apollo. With a flick of her wrist, the silvery light of moonlight enveloped them both, and in the blink of an eye, they were standing in the grand halls of Olympus.

Olympus was as awe-inspiring and grand as ever, but neither twin had the patience to marvel at the architecture. They'd been summoned enough times that the grandeur had lost its luster. Apollo strolled toward his golden throne, lounging in it with all the grace of someone who didn't quite care what was about to unfold. Artemis, in stark contrast, moved with poise, taking her place on her silver throne with the quiet grace of a predator.

"Alright, so what's this all about?" Apollo muttered, leaning over slightly toward Artemis as other Gods began to filter into the massive throne room.

"Your guess is as good as mine," Artemis whispered back, her eyes scanning the room. She was sharp, focused, every movement calculated. She had a habit of studying everyone's expressions as they entered, looking for clues. "It's rare for a meeting to be called without a clear reason."

"Maybe Father finally realized that his new chariot is a tacky eyesore," Apollo said with a smirk. "We should've told him gold-on-gold would blind everyone from miles away."

"Like you are one to talk about gold-on-gold," Artemis shot him a sideways glance, unamused but too disciplined to engage with his sarcasm. "It's not the chariot," she said dryly, though a small part of her almost wished it were something that simple.

Slowly, the thrones of Olympus began to fill. Hera glided in, her regal posture never faltering, though her eyes darted toward Zeus as if daring him to start speaking before everyone had arrived. Athena followed, her gray eyes sharp and calculating, as if she was already ten steps ahead of whatever conversation they were about to have. Poseidon strode in with his usual confidence, nodding casually to the twins as he took his seat.

And then came Hades and Hestia.

Artemis couldn't help but feel a flicker of relief as she saw Hestia enter. The Goddess of the Hearth had returned to the Olympian council only a few years ago, her presence a calming influence in what was often a storm of egos and tempers. Hades, too, had finally gotten his throne alongside the Olympians, though he always looked like he'd rather be anywhere else. His dark eyes briefly flicked toward Apollo, narrowing ever so slightly—Apollo had been in hot water with the Lord of the Underworld ever since the whole "dreams-forcing-on-Nico" incident.

Apollo squirmed a bit in his seat when Hades entered, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "So... Uncle Hades is still mad at me. Good to know."

"You brought it on yourself," Artemis whispered back, her eyes not leaving Hades, who took his seat with a quiet authority. He said nothing, but his gaze lingered on Apollo for just a moment too long before turning his attention to the throne room.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm on his bad list forever. But hey, at least he's here, right? That's gotta mean something." Apollo flashed a too-wide grin, but it faltered when Artemis didn't respond, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the room.

Notably absent was Ares. His red throne sat vacant, still shining but completely untouched. It wasn't surprising, though. Ares had been punished—seriously punished—by Zeus after his last transgression. Becoming mortal for a time will hopefully humble the war god, not that neither Apollo nor Artemis held much hope for a change. Ares was probably somewhere on Earth right now, struggling with his new mortal body, seething with rage but powerless to change it.

The throne room was nearly full now. Hermes zipped in last, naturally, his quicksilver sandals barely touching the floor as he made his way to his throne. He gave Apollo a quick wink, but the mischievous glint in his eyes faded as he saw the serious faces of the gathered Gods. Whatever was happening, it wasn't a joke.

As the last of the Gods settled in, the air in the throne room grew thick with anticipation. Zeus sat at the head of the assembly, his face as unreadable as ever, lightning crackling faintly at the edges of his fingertips. He hadn't spoken yet, but the tension was palpable. Something was coming, something big enough to require the attention of every Olympian.

Apollo leaned over one more time, his voice barely above a whisper. "You think this is about the prophecy?"

Artemis didn't answer right away, her eyes fixed on Zeus. She felt the stirrings of something ancient, something heavy weighing down on the room. She wasn't sure if it was the prophecy, but whatever it was, it had the gods on edge.

"I don't know," she finally whispered, her voice laced with tension. "But we're about to find out."

The air in the throne room of Olympus was thick with tension, the kind that made the hairs on the back of Apollo's neck stand up. He fidgeted in his seat, eyes darting toward Zeus, who sat at the head of the assembly like an unmovable storm cloud, thunder rumbling softly under his skin.

Zeus stood, his deep voice reverberating through the marble hall. "This session is called into order," he announced, his words as heavy as his presence. "I now give the floor to Hera."

Apollo grimaced reflexively. He caught Artemis doing the same from the corner of his eye, though she was far more subtle about it. Neither of them had a good opinion of Hera, not after what she had done to their mother. Still, they knew better than to voice that sentiment.

Hera rose from her throne, regal as ever, her face set in that cold, calculating expression that always made Apollo's skin crawl. She surveyed the room with a kind of condescending confidence, the Queen of Olympus in every sense of the word.

"We are here to discuss something of the utmost importance," Hera began, her voice sharp and commanding. "It is time. The time to unite the two camps—Greek and Roman. There is no doubt anymore. The Titans are rising again, and they will come for Olympus. The Greeks and Romans must stand together if we are to defeat them."

A deep silence followed her statement, the weight of her words settling in like a storm cloud hanging overhead. Hera crossed her arms, waiting for someone to speak. Apollo glanced at Artemis again. They had expected something—maybe talk of the usual Titan drama—but this? Uniting the Greeks and Romans? It seems like Hera has finally convinced her husband.

Artemis raised an eyebrow ever so slightly, and Apollo gave a quick shrug in response, his expression saying what they were both thinking: Well, didn't see that coming.

The silence didn't last. Almost immediately, the room erupted into chaos. Poseidon bellowed something about trust issues with the Romans, while Demeter complained about the Romans messing with her harvest festivals. Hermes, never one to sit still, was darting between thrones, his body flickering between his Greek and Roman forms so fast it was giving Apollo a headache. Even Aphrodite was chiming in, her voice laced with annoyance about how Roman Venus just didn't get the artistry of true love the way she did.

Apollo leaned back onto his throne, letting out a low whistle. "Well, this is going about as smoothly as a hydra at a toddler's birthday party."

Artemis didn't respond, her gaze fixed on the chaos unfolding before them. But Apollo could sense her growing irritation.

It wasn't until Athena finally stood that the room fell into something resembling order. Barely.

Apollo tensed. Everyone knew Athena hated the Romans with the kind of passion usually reserved for her enemies in battle. Her Greek form flickered dangerously as she spoke, her gray eyes narrowed, lips pressed into a thin line.

"The Romans," she began, her voice low but deadly, "reduced me to nothing more than a goddess of homemaking and crafts. They stripped me of my title as the Goddess of War—my title—because they couldn't accept the idea of a woman holding power on the battlefield."

Her voice trembled with barely contained rage, and Apollo could see the flicker of Minerva bleeding through, the more restrained, calculating form of the goddess, one that Athena despised. The tension was palpable, her Roman form fighting for dominance, but Athena's seething Greek half was overpowering.

"Do you expect me," Athena continued, "to simply forgive and forget centuries of this humiliation? To unite with the very demigods who embody the ideology that diminished me?" Her voice grew louder, and the room flinched as her form shimmered violently between Athena and Minerva, the strain clear on her face.

Hera didn't back down, her eyes narrowing. "The Titans are rising, and if the Greeks and Romans don't unite, they will wipe us all out. You think your grievances matter more than Olympus itself?"

Apollo felt his own body flicker slightly in reaction to the shifting forms around him. But, of course, he wasn't like the others. He hadn't been divided. The Romans had taken his name and form whole, unchanged. Apollo was Apollo, whether in Greece or Rome, and that had always made him feel like a bit of an outsider in these discussions. It wasn't exactly his fault that he hadn't been ripped in half the way his siblings had, but it made him acutely aware of just how deep this divide ran for them.

Artemis, beside him, shifted in her seat. She wasn't as vocal as Athena, but Apollo could tell she felt the same pull. The Romans had reshaped her too—made her less of the wild huntress and more of a guardian of women's virtues. Less untamed, more controlled. It wasn't a betrayal as deep as what Athena had endured, but Apollo could see the tension in his sister's form every time the Roman Diana surfaced.

The flickering between Greek and Roman forms was getting worse. Aphrodite and Venus were arguing, their voices blending together in a nauseating mix of love and vanity. Even Zeus was affected, his form shifting unpredictably, lightning crackling around his throne as Jupiter's colder, more disciplined persona bled through.

Apollo leaned forward slightly, his voice low and dry as he whispered to Artemis. "If this keeps up, we're all going to end up with a serious case of godly whiplash."

Artemis shot him a look that could have frozen the Styx itself. "Focus."

"Right. Sorry," Apollo muttered, but his eyes flicked back to Athena, who looked ready to throw her spear through someone's chest. Hera was digging her heels in, refusing to back down, and the rest of the gods were caught in the crossfire.

Apollo could see the shift. Athena's form flickered, becoming Minerva for a brief moment—a cooler, more calculated version of herself—but the Roman side had none of the fury. Minerva was calm, strategic, like a chess player analyzing the board, not a warrior. And that split was the root of Athena's hatred. It wasn't just a title they'd stripped away; it was her very identity.

Hera, still standing tall in her queenly form, wasn't backing down. Her Roman form, Juno, was pushing through as well, the stoic face of duty battling with the more impassioned Greek Hera. The effect made it seem like both Goddesses were speaking at once, their voices overlapping, creating a disorienting echo.

"They carried us into the modern world," Hera—no, Juno—said. "Rome ensured our survival! Without them, we would have faded into the ruins with Greece."

Athena's eyes blazed. "And in the process, we lost ourselves."

That was the crux of it, wasn't it? Apollo thought, watching the back-and-forth like a tennis match he wanted no part in. The Gods didn't talk about this because acknowledging it made the split real. The Romans had taken the Greek Gods and reshaped them, molded them into something else—something less for many of the Goddesses, especially Athena. What had been one identity, one mind, had been torn apart, leaving them with two halves at war with each other. And that division? It had trickled down into everything.

The demigods, of course, had no idea. Olympus had made sure of that. The Greeks and Romans were kept separate, each unaware of the other's existence, to prevent more bloodshed. The Gods had agreed, at the time, that it was the best way to maintain peace, but now it was coming back to haunt them. The Titans were rising again, and neither the Greek nor Roman demigods were strong enough alone. They needed to unite, but after centuries of keeping them apart, it was a nearly impossible task.

The throne room had descended into chaos, Gods and Goddesses flickering between their Greek and Roman forms like malfunctioning lightbulbs. Athena and Hera were at each other's throats, the argument escalating to the point that even Zeus couldn't rein them in. Thunder rumbled ominously from his throne, but it was no use—no amount of kingly authority could stop two goddesses on the verge of tearing each other apart.

Athena's voice was sharp as a sword, her words slicing through the din. "The Romans butchered what I was! They stripped me of my title as the goddess of war and reduced me to a crafts teacher!" She flickered violently, her gray eyes flashing between fierce warrior and restrained Roman tactician, each version of her angrier than the last. "And now you expect me to unite with them?"

"I am tired of this. Do you have no other arguments?" Hera's response was no less venomous, her form shifting between her regal Greek self and the colder, more strategic Roman Juno. "At least the Romans understood the importance of family and order, unlike the chaotic mess you Greeks called a pantheon. This isn't about your pride, Athena—this is about survival. But of course, you always make it about yourself."

The air crackled with tension, gods murmuring to themselves as their forms flickered in and out of sync. Zeus opened his mouth to speak, but his words were drowned out by yet another round of yelling.

That was when the voice cut through it all.

"Enough."

It wasn't loud, but it didn't need to be. The word dropped like a stone into the storm of noise, silencing everything around it. The Gods froze, and the flickering of forms slowed as all eyes turned toward Hades. He sat on his obsidian and marble throne at the far end of the room, his expression calm but carrying the weight of disappointment, like a parent who had expected better from his children.

Even Zeus, always used to being the one in control, stilled as his brother spoke. Apollo shifted in his seat, suddenly remembering the number of times he'd been on the wrong side of that tone. His sister Artemis remained as stoic as ever, but even she seemed to tense slightly. Being on Hades' bad side was never a pleasant experience. Apollo had definitely earned that disappointed look more times than he'd care to admit.

Athena and Hera, who had been on the verge of tearing each other apart, now stood silent under the weight of Hades' gaze. The flickering of their forms slowed, though it didn't stop entirely. Hera's lips pressed into a thin line, her regal posture faltering under the withering stare. Athena, meanwhile, gripped her spear tightly, her eyes cast downward as if she were biting back a retort.

Hades' voice, cool and measured, cut through the tension. "Hera is right. The camps must work together if we are to stop the Titans."

Apollo swore he saw Hera's lips twitch in a smug little smile, a smile she tried—and failed—to hide. Athena's glare could've turned someone to stone if she were in a mood to be more Medusa-like, but the argument had been shut down the moment Hades spoke. The weight of his disappointment was like a blanket of silence over the room.

But Hades wasn't done. He sighed, and it was the kind of sigh that made the room feel colder, as if the Underworld had exhaled with him. "However," he continued, his dark eyes settling on Athena, "I understand your resentment toward the Romans. They did take much from you—much from all of us. But we don't have the luxury of division anymore. If we are to unite the camps, we must do so with purpose."

Athena's flickering form steadied, though Apollo could see the tension in her shoulders, the tightness in her grip on her spear. The goddess of wisdom was still furious, that much was obvious, but no one ignored Hades when he spoke. Not even her.

"A quest," Hades continued, his gaze never leaving Athena. "One that will restore what was lost. The Athena Parthenos. You can demand its return. Let both camps work together to retrieve it. It will be a symbol of unity. Of respect."

The room buzzed with murmurs as the Gods processed his words. Apollo leaned forward, intrigued. This was actually… a solid plan. Give Athena something concrete to gain from the unity, something that would make the Romans acknowledge her properly. It was the kind of quest that would force both sides to cooperate, whether they wanted to or not.

Athena looked torn. Apollo could see it in the set of her jaw, the way her eyes darkened with the weight of her decision. She clearly wanted to argue, to rage about the injustice of it all, but Hades' suggestion made too much sense to ignore. The statue was one of the greatest symbols of her power, taken from her city, and retrieving it would be a victory she couldn't pass up.

She could not ignore the wisdom in her uncle's words.

After a long, tense moment, Athena finally nodded, though her voice was cold and precise. "Very well. The statue must be returned. I will send Perseus Jackson and Jason Grace."

Apollo's interest piqued even more. Percy and Jason? That was going to be… interesting. Both were heavy hitters, strong leaders, but they were as different as night and day. Percy, with his laid-back attitude and reckless bravery, and Jason, the epitome of Roman discipline and honor. Throwing them together on a quest was a recipe for either disaster or brilliance—possibly both.

Athena added, her voice steady now, "The camps will choose a third."

Apollo leaned back on his throne, unable to help the grin tugging at his lips. "This is going to be one for the history books," he whispered to Artemis.

She shot him a look, her expression a mix of exasperation and grudging agreement. "More like a disaster waiting to happen."

"Same difference," Apollo quipped, his tone light, though he couldn't shake the tension lingering in the air.

Zeus cleared his throat, the sound awkward in the sudden quiet, and glanced toward Hades. His older brother gave him a brief, almost imperceptible nod—classic Hades, a man of few words but infinite weight. Zeus, ever the God of Thunder, seemed almost small in that moment as he sent Hades a grateful look. It was rare to see the King of the Gods show appreciation for anything, but when Hades stepped in, everyone knew who the real authority was.

Across the room, Artemis and Apollo exchanged amused glances, barely containing their smirks. Apollo was practically glowing with self-satisfaction, his golden aura a little too bright. Artemis, too, was shimmering softly, the silver light of the moon radiating from her. They were both so close to losing it—laughing at the absurdity of the whole thing—but the flicker of sternness from Zeus sobered them just in time.

Apollo, always the more impulsive of the two, leaned toward his sister, whispering out of the corner of his mouth, "You'd think with all the lightning bolts, Father could keep his kids in line."

Artemis bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from grinning. "Careful," she whispered back, her silver eyes sparkling with amusement. "He might hurl one of those bolts at you for being too sunny."

They dimmed their glow just enough to avoid Zeus' wrath. The King of the Gods gave them both a warning look—behave—before he turned his attention back to the matter at hand. His authority reasserted itself as he rose from his throne, his flickering form settling into its Greek aspect.

"The camps will meet on neutral ground," Zeus declared, his voice booming through the throne room with all the gravitas of a cosmic pronouncement. "They will gather at Elysium Prep."

Apollo's eyebrows shot up. Elysium Prep? Now that was an interesting choice. He hadn't expected that, but it made sense in a weird, bureaucratic-Olympian way. The demigod school that Nico had helped set up was one of the few places where both gods and mortals could exist with some level of normalcy. Well, normalcy for demigods, which was like saying "controlled chaos" at best.

Zeus continued, "The Huntresses will be invited as well."

Artemis inclined her head in acknowledgment, her usual stoic expression softening just slightly. A sense of calm washed over her at the thought of her Huntresses joining the meeting. But more than that, she was relieved to finally reunite Thalia with Jason. Thalia had never had the chance to fully reconnect with her brother, and Artemis knew how much that weighed on her lieutenant. Siblings, after all, should never be kept apart.

Her eyes flicked to Apollo, and she caught him giving her a knowing grin. As annoying as her twin could be—and gods, he could be annoying—he was her brother, and that bond would always be there. No matter how many times he exasperated her with his over-the-top jokes or careless arrogance, she would always love him. Even if she'd never admit it to his face.

Apollo's grin widened as if he could hear her thoughts. "Feeling sentimental, sister?"

"Don't push it," she replied coolly, but the corner of her mouth twitched in the slightest hint of a smile.

But then Hera spoke up, cutting through the room's brief silence. Her voice, cool and composed, took on a tone of unusual diplomacy. "I will take responsibility for the secrecy around Nico di Angelo."

Apollo straightened in his seat, suddenly more attentive. Artemis, too, tilted her head slightly, curious. Hades had been silent about Nico this whole time, his protective nature obvious, but Hera stepping in? That was a surprise. Even if she favored the boy.

Hera's gaze shifted to Hades, her Roman aspect flickering faintly before settling back into her Greek form. "The secrets involving both camps and the Underworld—it was necessary. But I will bear the consequences if it brings about peace between the camps."

Hades, who had been quietly observing the proceedings with his usual cold detachment, raised his eyes to meet Hera's. For a brief moment, his stern, brooding expression softened ever so slightly. It was almost imperceptible, but Apollo, with his keen senses, caught it.

Hades nodded slowly, his voice quiet but full of meaning. "Thank you."

It wasn't much, but coming from Hades, it was everything. His dark eyes glimmered with something Apollo had rarely seen in his uncle—gratitude. Because if there was one thing Hades was known for, beyond ruling the dead, it was his fierce protectiveness over his children. Nico, his bambino, as he called him, had been through enough already. The last thing Hades wanted was for his son to be dragged into even more Olympian politics.

Apollo leaned toward Artemis again, his tone light but genuine. "Looks like Hera's not all bad after all."

Artemis rolled her eyes, but there was a hint of amusement in her expression. "Don't get used to it."

Apollo chuckled softly, but his gaze lingered on Hades. The Underworld god looked... relieved. Maybe this was the right step. Maybe—just maybe—things were going to work out.

And then, because he couldn't help himself, Apollo added, "I give it three days before everything goes sideways."

Artemis shot him a look, her voice dry as bone. "Three days? You're being optimistic."

As soon as Zeus called the meeting to an end, the tension in the throne room evaporated like steam off a summer pavement. With a dismissive wave of his hand, he sent the Olympians back to their various domains, and the gods wasted no time in vanishing from the room. Lightning crackled softly around Zeus' throne as he exhaled a tired sigh, clearly relieved that things hadn't spiraled into another divine war. Yet.

Apollo and Artemis didn't wait around for pleasantries either. They were gone in a flash of golden and silver light, landing back at the Hunt's camp. The moment their feet hit the ground, the two of them exchanged a glance—just one look—and that was all it took.

They lost it.

Apollo doubled over, his loud laughter echoing through the trees. He clutched his sides, struggling to breathe between fits of laughter. Artemis, ever the composed goddess of the Hunt, wasn't far behind. Her usual serene expression cracked, and despite her best efforts, a grin broke across her face before she too gave in, laughing so hard her eyes watered.

"Did you see Hera's face?" Apollo wheezed, wiping a tear from his cheek. "She looked like she'd just swallowed a porcupine!"

Artemis snorted—snorted. It wasn't something anyone else would ever hear, but in front of Apollo, she didn't bother hiding it. "I know. I thought Athena was going to throw her spear right through Zeus' head. That would've been one way to end the meeting."

Apollo straightened up, still shaking with laughter. "And Zeus, trying to act all fatherly—" He threw his hands up in mock imitation of their father, puffing out his chest, and deepened his voice into an exaggerated growl. "'The camps will meet on neutral ground!' Like he's some wise old mediator when we all know it's going to be a disaster."

Artemis rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a chuckle. "Neutral ground? Elysium Prep is about as neutral as a battlefield." She plopped down onto a nearby rock, still smiling as she imagined what the next few weeks were going to look like.

"How long before the Romans realize Percy has absolutely no idea what a 'chain of command' is?" Apollo grinned, pacing around the campfire, his hands animated as always. "What's the over-under on Jason getting stressed out by Percy's 'improvisational leadership style'? I give it a week before Jason tries to implement a bureaucratic system and Percy... well, Percy's Percy."

Artemis sighed, though the amusement still played at the corners of her lips. "You think Jason will last a week? I give him three days before Percy's got him in a headlock over something ridiculous."

"Oh, please." Apollo waved a hand. "They'll bond over the fact that both of them get thrown into these quests by the gods without any warning or prep. It's basically their thing at this point."

Artemis crossed her arms, her smile fading into something more thoughtful. "Thalia's going to be there too."

Apollo's grin softened. He knew what his sister was thinking. Artemis might've been the cool, distant leader of the Huntresses, but when it came to Thalia, she was protective. The thought of Thalia reuniting with Jason was… well, it was complicated. Thalia had chosen the Hunt to escape the weight of being a child of Zeus, while Jason had been raised as the golden boy of Camp Jupiter. Their paths had been so different for so long.

"Thalia and Jason, huh?" Apollo leaned against a tree, crossing his arms. "Think they'll be able to handle it?"

Artemis gave a small shrug, though her eyes betrayed her concern. "They'll be fine. They're siblings. It's not like I would ever abandon you, no matter how annoying you get." She raised an eyebrow, her voice laced with dry sarcasm. "And you're a lot."

Apollo placed a hand over his heart, feigning offense. "Me? Annoying? I prefer to think of myself as charmingly exuberant."

"Yeah, keep telling yourself that." Artemis smirked but there was warmth behind her words. No matter how much Apollo could drive her crazy, they were still siblings. And as much as she didn't like admitting it, she needed him around. He balanced out her intensity with his reckless optimism. Even when things got chaotic, he always found a way to make her laugh.

The fire crackled softly between them as they both fell into a more reflective silence. It wasn't often that they got moments like this—moments without the weight of prophecies or quests or the endless squabbles of the gods hanging over their heads.

Artemis stared into the flames, her thoughts drifting. "I'll be glad to have Thalia reunited with Jason. She pretends it doesn't bother her, but... no one should be kept away from their family. Not for that long."

Apollo nodded, sensing the seriousness behind his sister's words. "Yeah. It's gonna be good for them. Messy, maybe, but good." He paused, glancing sideways at her. "You don't think Jason's going to try and Roman-ize the Hunt, do you? I mean, can you imagine? Thalia will probably stab him in the first five minutes."

Artemis smiled slightly, shaking her head. "No. I think even Jason knows better than to try to implement Roman discipline with my Huntresses."

Apollo grinned. "Smart kid."

They sat in companionable silence for a moment, the fire casting long shadows over the trees. But Apollo's mind was already racing ahead. Elysium Prep was going to be a circus with both camps converging. Percy's laid-back, impulsive leadership versus Jason's rigid, honor-bound Roman training? It was practically a recipe for disaster—or at least a really entertaining quest.

"You know," Apollo said, his grin returning, "this summer's going to be more chaotic than anything those campers have faced before. Percy and Jason? Plus, the Huntresses? And the Roman and Greek demigods meeting for the first time? I'm just waiting for someone to accidentally summon a hydra in the middle of class."

Artemis tilted her head, considering. "I give it a day before something goes wrong."

Apollo snorted. "A day? You're being generous. I give it ten minutes."

They shared a quiet laugh, the weight of the meeting behind them. The summer ahead was going to be chaotic, sure, but that was par for the course in their world. And maybe—just maybe—this quest would work. Maybe the demigods would succeed, and the two camps could finally stop being kept in the dark about each other.

But for now, they just had to sit back, wait, and watch the madness unfold.

And Apollo? He was very much looking forward to that.