Percy stuck close to Alabaster and Ethan as the students of Elysium Prep began to fill the massive auditorium. His usual carefree attitude was nowhere to be found as he surveyed the room, feeling more on edge than he'd like to admit. Normally, by this time in the summer, he'd be on the bus, headed toward Camp Half-Blood, ready to spend another summer dodging monster attacks and terrible prophecies. But this year was different. The vibe was off. Way off.
"Why are we still here?" Percy muttered under his breath, leaning in toward Alabaster, who was equally tense. "Summer's supposed to be my time off from all this nonsense."
Alabaster shrugged, but his eyes were sharp as they scanned the auditorium. "Guess the Gods thought a little more nonsense wouldn't kill us. Besides, you ever know a summer to go according to plan?"
Ethan gave a dry chuckle from the other side of Percy. "Plans? You're thinking too highly of the Olympians, Percy. We're all just pawns in their endless game of 'who can screw things up the fastest.'"
"Don't remind me," Percy muttered, running a hand through his messy hair. He couldn't shake the feeling that something big was about to drop on them, something that definitely wasn't going to involve leisurely swims or blue food eating contests. The air in the room was thick with tension—both from the students of Elysium Prep and from the Camp Half-Blood campers who'd just arrived.
It was strange seeing the campers here, on their turf. The campers sat in neat rows on the right side of the auditorium, their usual chaotic energy oddly subdued under the watchful eye of Chiron, who stood tall and quiet at the front of the room. The centaur's expression was unreadable, which only added to the tension. Percy figured if even Chiron looked this grim, something big was happening.
"What do you think this is about?" Alabaster asked, his voice low as he scanned the auditorium. "They wouldn't keep us here unless there was a reason."
Percy's eyes narrowed as he noticed the magical shimmer in the air—subtle, but unmistakable. The auditorium had been magically expanded, probably by some serious mist manipulation, to accommodate the sudden influx of campers. Still, it was packed, and the murmurs rippling through the crowd were growing louder by the second. Elysium Prep students whispered to one another, eyeing the campers with curiosity or suspicion, while the Half-Blood campers exchanged uneasy glances, clearly out of their element.
Percy shifted uncomfortably, hearing snatches of conversations.
"Why aren't we going to camp?"
"Why are we at Elysium Prep?"
"Did the Gods screw something up again?"
Yes, Percy thought, the Gods always screw something up.
Alabaster suddenly nudged him in the ribs, breaking Percy out of his thoughts. "Nico's not here," he pointed out, his sharp green eyes scanning the room again. "None of the original crew from Nero's Tower."
Percy's frown deepened as he looked around, searching for familiar faces. Alabaster was right. Nico and all the students who had been part of the original rebellion against Nero's Tower, were nowhere to be seen. It was odd, and Percy didn't like it one bit. Nico, especially. The last time something big happened and Nico was no where to be seen, he had been attacked by Ares.
Percy cannot allow that to happen again… he would not survive losing Nico.
Ethan, his arms crossed, added, "They're probably off doing something secret. This might have to do with the whole university thing we keep hearing about. Letters of recommendation? Mysterious 'further education' for demigods? It smells fishy."
"Fishy," Percy echoed, cringing slightly. He hated when people used that term around him—it always felt personal. "But yeah, you're probably right."
He tried not to let his mind wander too much into conspiracy theory territory, but it was hard not to when everyone in the room looked equally confused. Plus, the whole "demigod university" thing had been swirling around for years. Whispers of a place beyond Camp Half-Blood, beyond Elysium prep, where they could live safely and further their education.
Percy wasn't sure what to make of it. What else could there be for a demigod? Another place tucked away by mist to protect them? If so, where? And why is it such a secret to them?
Just as Percy was about to lean over to Alabaster, the heavy wooden doors at the back of the auditorium creaked open once more. Every head in the room turned as the Hunt of Artemis entered. They moved with a quiet grace, their silver cloaks shimmering as they glided down the aisle. Bianca di Angelo led them, her face set in a determined, serious expression. Percy caught sight of Annabeth and Thalia among them, and something tightened in his chest. The look on their faces told him one thing: they knew exactly what was going on.
Unlike the campers and the Elysium Prep students, who sat shifting in their seats, muttering confused whispers, the Huntresses were calm. Focused. That just made Percy's stomach twist. If the Hunt was here, it wasn't for some friendly catch-up. They didn't drop by unless something big was going down.
"Great," Percy muttered to himself, watching them take their seats in the middle of the auditorium. "Of course, they know what's going on."
Alabaster raised an eyebrow. "What do you think, Jackson? Secret Artemis tea party? Or something worse?"
"Definitely worse," Percy replied dryly, still watching as Thalia shot him a quick nod of acknowledgment. The gesture was casual, but her face said everything—not now, Percy. You're about to find out, and you won't like it.
Bianca directed the Huntresses to sit in the center of the auditorium, each one sitting with perfect posture, eyes forward. Percy had half a mind to storm up and demand answers from her right then and there. But before he could so much as open his mouth to ask her what in Tartarus was going on, the doors creaked again.
Another group of demigods entered the room, but these weren't from Camp Half-Blood or Elysium Prep. These kids were different. They had an edge to them. They wore armor that looked more militaristic than anything Percy had seen before, and the tattoos on their forearms—a kind of stylized SPQR—glinted in the low light of the auditorium. The room went still as the group of new demigods stopped dead in their tracks, eyes wide, staring at the campers from Camp Half-Blood like they'd just seen a pack of ghosts.
The tension was thick enough to cut with a celestial bronze blade.
Percy's eyes narrowed. "Great," he muttered. "Who invited the gladiators?"
Before anyone could make sense of what was happening, the newcomers were nudged—yes, nudged—forward by a giant silver wolf. Percy blinked, because of course, why wouldn't there be a wolf in the middle of this already bizarre day?
A few of the campers were on the edge of their seats, no doubt thinking the same thing Percy was: Should we be worried? The wolf, though, didn't seem interested in violence. It padded calmly down the aisle, herding the demigods toward the left side of the auditorium with the kind of casual authority that said, move or I'll bite.
"Is that...?" Percy whispered, turning to Ethan. "Do you think that's—"
"I don't know, but it's big, it's furry, and I'm not in the mood to ask."
The wolf finally came to a stop, her silver eyes sweeping over the crowd. She paused, briefly locking eyes with Percy, and he swore it felt like she was sizing him up. Then, with a soft growl, she padded back to the front of the room and took a seat like some sort of regal overseer.
"What is happening?" Ethan whispered, leaning in closer. His eyes darted between the different groups in the auditorium—the Camp Half-Blood demigods, the Elysium Prep students, the Huntresses, and now this militaristic-like demigods—each faction sitting in silence, waiting for something to happen.
Percy didn't have an answer for him. His instincts were screaming that something big was about to drop, but all he could do was wait, like everyone else. He stole a glance at Thalia, who was seated with the Huntresses. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, her brow furrowed in thought. She knew something. Thalia knew something.
It was frustrating. It made his fingers twitch for his sword. If there was a fight coming, he'd rather be in the middle of it than sitting around like this. The whole situation felt wrong—too quiet, too still.
The new demigods, now seated on the left side of the auditorium, exchanged glances that were just as confused as the campers'. One of the kids leaned over to whisper to his friend, but his eyes kept darting toward the Camp Half-Blood side of the room, like he was trying to make sense of something that shouldn't exist.
Before Percy could say anything, the heavy doors at the front of the auditorium creaked again.
"Now what?" Percy muttered, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.
The murmurs rose again, a ripple of unease passing through the room as all three groups—Elysium Prep, Camp Half-Blood, Huntresses, and the newcomers—waited in tense silence. The wolf remained still, her eyes half-lidded like she was judging them all from some higher plane of wisdom or something.
Percy let out a sigh of relief when he saw Nico stride up onto the stage, accompanied by the original Tower of Nero crew. It wasn't just Nico though—there were more demigods with him, and, like the demigods who'd entered earlier, these newcomers also had tattoos on their forearms. They looked battle-hardened, like they'd been through Tartarus and back. Reyna was there too, standing tall beside Nico, with another girl who bore such a striking resemblance to her that Percy figured she had to be Hylla. Hylla also had the SPQR tattoo on her forearm.
For a moment, Percy's mind wandered absently. He noticed how Nico looked surprisingly sharp in chinos and a gold dress shirt. It threw him off, just for a second, but there was something oddly regal about it. He carried himself like someone who had seen too much and come out the other side, someone who knew his place in this crazy demigod world.
Nico has been stunning since the very first time Percy had seen him in the school corridor. His very own angel in this mad world.
Nico approached the podium with an air of quiet authority. His dark eyes swept over the crowd, and the room hushed in an instant. Percy could feel the weight of anticipation hanging over everyone like a storm cloud about to break. Nico cleared his throat, his voice steady but carrying a hint of nervousness, like he didn't quite know how to start.
"I'm going to need everyone to be patient," Nico said, his voice carrying easily over the now-silent auditorium. "What I have to say... it's not a short story."
Percy leaned forward slightly in his seat. He had a feeling this was about to get really intense. The Huntresses, the Camp Half-Blood kids, the newcomers—all of them seemed to hold their breath.
Nico began, his voice low and steady. "Some of you know part of this already. Others, you're hearing it for the first time. But it all started because of the Great Prophecy." His gaze flickered over the crowd, landing briefly on Percy before continuing. "Zeus—he... killed my mother."
The words hit the room like a boulder being dropped into a still lake. There were gasps, whispers, eyes widening in shock. Percy clenched his fists instinctively, his gut twisting with a mixture of anger and sympathy. He'd known Nico's story was rough, but to hear it so plainly... it was brutal.
Nico continued, undeterred. "My father, Hades, managed to save my sister and me by hiding us at the Lotus Casino & Hotel." His lips twitched into a brief, humorless smile. "Yeah, that place. Time doesn't move there the way it does out here. We were stuck for decades. We didn't age. We didn't know what was happening in the outside world."
Percy shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He knew all too well how twisted the Lotus Casino was, how easy it was to lose yourself there. Nico had told him everything about that place.
"A few years ago," Nico continued, his expression hardening, "I met my ghost guardians. They came to me, told me the truth—that I was trapped, that decades had passed while we thought we were safe." He paused, the weight of those lost years hanging heavy in his words. "They got me out and told me what I was. A demigod. And that the world outside was... not what I expected."
There was an eerie silence in the room as Nico went on. His tone shifted, becoming darker. "After that, they trained me. Taught me about the mythological world, about the things lurking in the shadows. It didn't take long before I discovered the truth about the Triumvirate."
At that, murmurs rippled through the crowd. Percy felt a knot of unease settle in his stomach. He'd been taught about the Triumvirate and how their Empire had fallen into Nico's hand. Everyone at Elysium Prep knows that their school used to be Nero's Tower, and the hardships that Nico had to go through to create the safe haven for them.
"They've been working in the shadows for centuries," Nico said, his voice cold now, a flash of anger behind his words. "They've been making the lives of demigods—all of us—Tartarus. Manipulating, controlling. And worse, they killed one of my guardians, Albert, just for getting in their way."
Percy could feel the tension in the room spike. It wasn't just about some ancient conspiracy anymore. This was personal.
"Juno—" Nico said the name with a softness that surprised Percy. And wait, Juno? Had it not been Hera? "—gave me a quest. Together with Reyna and Hylla, we set out to destroy the Triumvirate and free the demigods they had enslaved. And now..." He gestured to the group of classmates and the tattooed demigods standing behind him, the ones who looked like they'd been to hell and back. "We've brought them here. These are the demigods we saved."
The room sat in stunned silence.
Percy sat there, feeling like his brain was playing catch-up with everything Nico had just dropped on them. Sure, he'd been through his fair share of wild revelations before—finding out your dad was Poseidon, battling monsters, and facing a God—but this? This was on another level. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, glancing around to see that the rest of the demigods were just as wide-eyed and shell-shocked as he was.
He could practically hear the gears turning in Annabeth's head from across the room. Thalia had that familiar "about to explode" look on her face, and even Ethan, who usually had a dry remark ready, was dead silent.
Despite the weight of the story, Percy's internal snark kicked in. This is great and all, but when's Nico going to explain why we're all here?
As if sensing the collective bewilderment in the room—and possibly reading Percy's exact thoughts—Nico continued, his voice steady but carrying the same dark edge that came with every hard truth he had ever delivered.
"I know this is a lot to take in," Nico said, his eyes sweeping across the crowd of demigods, lingering briefly on Percy before moving on. "But what you have to understand is that when we took down the Triumvirate, it didn't just solve everything. In fact, it uncovered more problems."
Of course it did, Percy thought, letting out a quiet, exasperated sigh. Because it's never easy in this world.
Nico didn't seem fazed by the growing tension. He was used to it—thrived in it, really. He continued, his voice cutting through the murmurs that were beginning to bubble up in the audience. "The Triumvirate's main goal wasn't just about controlling demigods or keeping power. It was much bigger than that. They wanted to weaken the Gods themselves."
The room went still again, like everyone had sucked in a collective breath.
"To do that," Nico went on, "they had to keep the gods divided. And I don't just mean the usual Olympian drama—Zeus and Poseidon fighting over who has the biggest lightning bolt or Aphrodite starting chaos because she was bored." Nico's lips curled into a wry smirk for just a second, but it vanished as he continued. "No, I'm talking about something much deeper. The division between the gods' Greek and Roman forms."
Percy blinked. "Wait, what?"
For a second, the whole auditorium was dead silent, like Nico had just dropped an A-bomb in the middle of the room. Then, chaos erupted.
The students of Elysium Prep and the campers from Camp Half-Blood immediately started talking over each other. Whispers of confusion turned into full-blown shouting as demigods tried to make sense of the bombshell that had just been dropped. Percy could hear Ethan muttering darkly beside him, while one of the militaristic demigods—who now seems to be Roman—on the far side of the auditorium was frantically talking to his friend in Latin, probably swearing about this whole situation.
Percy's head was spinning. Greek and Roman forms? What the Hades is Nico talking about?
Before things could get any more chaotic, Nico raised a single hand.
Instantly, the entire room went quiet again. Percy blinked. Okay, so commanding an auditorium full of demigods is kind of hot, he admitted to himself. Nico's whole vibe—the dark clothes, the gold shirt that somehow made him look less like the King of Shadows and more like some sort of celestial authority—was, well, working.
Nico continued, as if the chaos had never happened. "For a long time after the fall of Rome, when the torch of power began to pass between civilizations, the Gods and their Greek and Roman aspects coexisted peacefully. Romans and Greeks lived together, fought together. The Gods themselves were able to switch between their forms without issue. But the Triumvirate... they knew that to destabilize the Gods, they had to destabilize their very identities. That's where the real trouble began."
Percy could feel the weight of Nico's words settle in his gut. His hands balled into fists at his sides. Destabilizing the Gods? That didn't sound like a minor problem.
"The Triumvirate planted seeds of discord between the demigods. It started small—petty conflicts, small grievances—but slowly, the division grew. Greeks blamed Romans, Romans blamed Greeks. It all came to a head when demigods began fighting each other in full-blown conflicts." Nico's expression darkened as he pressed on. "The bloodshed started to pile up. The final straw for the gods was the U.S. Civil War."
Percy felt like he'd just been punched in the gut. "Wait, the Civil War?" he asked, his voice louder than he intended. "You're saying that was because of demigods?"
The crowd stirred again, a murmur of disbelief spreading through the auditorium. The Civil War? Percy had thought it was just another terrible chapter in mortal history, a brutal conflict fought over slavery and states' rights. But now... to hear that demigods had been involved, that they had been manipulated into turning on each other, it made him feel sick.
"Yes," Nico confirmed, his tone grave. "The bloodiest war in American history was sparked by a rift between Greek and Roman demigods. The Gods themselves were torn apart by it. After that, Zeus made the decision that Camp Half-Blood and Camp Jupiter would never know of each other's existence."
Percy's mind raced. That explained so much—the duplicity, the secret demigod university. But it also raised about a thousand more questions.
Nico's gaze swept over the room again, his face set like stone. "It was only after Nero's fall that things started to change. During our quest to take down the Triumvirate, I found a group of orphaned Greek and Roman demigods—kids who had no idea where they belonged. We realized then that the divide couldn't last forever."
Nico's voice lowered, almost as if the next part was painful to admit. "We were forced to swear an oath to the River Styx. Until now, none of us could reveal the truth about the camps to anyone—not until the time was right. But now... now we're giving you permission to know."
Percy's heart was racing, his brain still trying to process everything. Greek and Roman demigods, separated by centuries of conflict. The Triumvirate manipulating the Gods themselves. The truth being hidden for so long, all because of an ancient war that had torn them apart.
And now, the truth was finally out.
The room sat in stunned silence.
Chiron and Lupa stepped forward, their presence alone enough to calm the uneasy whispers spreading through the room. Chiron, ever the wise centaur, nodded gravely. "Everything Nico has told you is true," he said, his voice calm but carrying the weight of a thousand years of battle-weary experience. Lupa, the silver she-wolf, stood beside him, silent but exuding an air of authority that made even the most skeptical demigods listen. Her glowing eyes scanned the crowd like she could see right through every one of them.
From the left side of the auditorium, a blond Roman demigod stood up, his face a mix of betrayal and confusion. "So... did you lie to us, Nico?" he asked, his voice sharp but wavering, like he wanted to believe otherwise but wasn't sure if he could.
Percy's stomach twisted. Of course someone would question him now. The thought of anyone doubting Nico grated on him, especially seeing how the question made Nico's already tense expression crumble for a second. Nico's eyes darkened, and for a moment, Percy could see the pain beneath the cool exterior—the same pain Nico had carried with him for years, and now someone was tearing it wide open in front of everyone.
Percy clenched his fists, about ready to stand up and tell that Roman demigod to back off, but Nico spoke first.
"No, Jason," Nico lifted his head, meeting the blond Roman's gaze. "I never lied to you," Nico said, his voice steady but edged with frustration. "I didn't hide the truth to deceive anyone. I've been bound by the same oath all of us have. But not once have I lied about who I am. I am a prince of the Underworld, the Ghost King, the ambassador of Pluto, favored by Juno, and blessed by Apollo. I'm not just a Greek demigod—I'm also an honorary Roman."
The entire room seemed to hold its breath. Nico stood tall, his chin lifted, looking every bit the royalty, his titles demanded. Percy watched as Jason's expression shifted—anger melting into something more complicated. Understanding, maybe? But Jason stayed silent, his jaw tight.
Percy, however, was still seething inside. How dare Jason question Nico like that? Sure, Percy felt betrayed too—Nico had kept huge secrets from all of them—but seeing Nico so vulnerable, so cornered, made Percy want to punch something. Preferably something blond and Roman.
Before the tension could boil over, a shimmer of light appeared on stage, and there she was—Hera. Or, wait, no. This was Juno.
Percy could tell the difference instantly. This wasn't the smug, slightly unhinged version of Hera he'd come to expect. Juno stood taller, her expression hard and impenetrable, with a regal air that made it clear she wasn't here to play games. Her Roman form had an edge of steel to it, colder and more calculated. Her eyes swept over the auditorium, landing on Nico with an unreadable expression before addressing the crowd.
"I take full responsibility for this duplicity," Juno said, her voice echoing across the room. "It was I who sent Nico di Angelo to New Rome. It was I who tasked him with the secret you've all now learned. He carried this burden because I commanded it, for the sake of protecting the fragile balance between our worlds."
The weight of Juno's words settled over the room, and Percy couldn't help but feel the heavy inevitability of it all. What could any of them say? You didn't exactly argue with the Queen of the Gods—not without ending up as a pile of smoldering ash.
The silence hung in the air, thick and uncomfortable. Percy could feel the tension radiating off every demigod in the room, the Romans eyeing the Greeks, the Elysium Prep students glancing between their peers, and the Huntresses sitting in their own quiet bubble of judgment.
And then, Percy did something he wasn't sure was smart—he stood up.
"I don't care," he blurted out, loud enough that his voice echoed off the high ceilings. He hadn't meant to say it so forcefully, but the words were out before he could stop them.
At the exact same time, Jason stood from the opposite side of the auditorium and said the same thing.
For a split second, their eyes met. Percy stared across the room at Jason, and Jason stared back, both of them wide-eyed like they hadn't expected to be in sync on anything—especially not this.
A beat of awkward silence passed, then Percy turned to Nico, who was standing there, his eyes slightly widened in shock. Percy felt a wave of something—maybe protectiveness, maybe anger at the world for making Nico carry so much on his shoulders, maybe just exhaustion from everything—and said, loud and clear, "Nico made this safe haven for us. He's the King of Elysium Prep, and that's all that matters to me."
The words rang out, and for once, Percy didn't feel awkward about saying something important out loud. He meant every word.
Jason, standing on the opposite side, nodded once. "Nico has always helped New Rome and Camp Jupiter. He's had our backs from the beginning. What else matters?"
For a second, the whole auditorium was silent again, but this time it felt different—like the tension had shifted into something else.
Then, slowly at first, and then louder, the Elysium Prep students started chanting.
"Triumvirate Emperor! Triumvirate Emperor!"
The chant grew, spreading through the crowd like wildfire. Even the Roman demigods, who looked unsure for a moment, joined in. The Greeks followed soon after, their voices adding to the chant. And the Huntresses—always reserved, always dignified—gave Nico a nod of acknowledgment, some of them raising their fists in solidarity.
Nico stood there, his eyes wide and bright with emotion. For a second, Percy thought Nico might crumble under the weight of it all—this was the boy who had been in the shadows for so long, carrying burdens no one should have to carry alone. Now, the entire auditorium was chanting his name.
Tears welled in Nico's eyes. He bowed his head slightly, overwhelmed but smiling, and when he looked up, his voice cracked with emotion. "Thank you... thank you for understanding."
The chant continued, louder and stronger, until Nico raised a hand, trying to compose himself. He stood tall, still shaking with emotion, and Percy couldn't help but smile. Nico was standing in the spotlight, and for the first time, it looked like he might just be okay with it.
As Juno's voice rang out across the auditorium, Percy couldn't help but feel the air grow heavy. Her words hung over the room like storm clouds about to burst, and for once, it wasn't just the gods' usual drama. This felt bigger, more dangerous.
"With the Triumvirate gone and the Titans rising once again," Juno declared, her voice commanding and sharp, "the time has come for Camp Half-Blood and Camp Jupiter to work together. No more secrets. No more division."
Yeah, sure, Percy thought, leaning back slightly in his seat. Like it's ever that simple.
But then something shifted on stage. Juno—no, Hera—her form flickered, struggling to stay solid. Percy winced, realizing for the first time just how bad the division between the Gods' Greek and Roman aspects really was. It wasn't just a metaphorical split anymore; it was like their very beings were pulling apart.
And then, Athena appeared beside Juno.
Percy groaned internally. Of course. This is just what we need. Two Goddesses who barely tolerate each other showing up to give us more bad news.
Athena's form wasn't doing much better than Juno's. She was flickering in and out of focus, the sharpness of her Greek war goddess form blurring with the more subdued, domestic side that the Romans had saddled her with. Percy felt his stomach twist at the sight.
Athena's voice was strong, but there was an unmistakable tension in it. "Both camps must undertake a quest together," she decreed, her words cutting through the growing murmur in the auditorium. "This will be the first step in fostering unity, mutual respect, and restoring balance."
Percy narrowed his eyes. Here we go. Let me guess. This 'quest' is going to end up on my plate, isn't it?
Sure enough, Athena continued, her sharp gray eyes scanning the crowd as if she was picking out targets. "The quest will be to recover the lost Athena Parthenos—the statue that was stolen from my temple in Athens centuries ago. It must be returned to Camp Half-Blood to restore what was lost."
Percy blinked. Wait. The Athena Parthenos? That thing was practically the size of a building. How in Hades' name are we supposed to—
"And the quest shall be led by Perseus Jackson," Athena's voice boomed.
Percy let out an audible groan, immediately facepalming. "Of course. Of course I'm getting dragged into another quest this summer. Like I wasn't overdue for a break or anything."
But Athena wasn't done. "Jason Grace," she continued, "will lead the quest alongside him."
Percy's hand froze mid-facepalm. Wait. Jason Grace?
He glanced across the room, and sure enough, there was Blondie from earlier—Jason Grace, the guy who'd questioned Nico, the Roman demigod who had freaked out when he saw the campers. Percy's mind raced. Grace. Thalia Grace. He looked over at Thalia, who was sitting with the Huntresses, and immediately noticed how pale she had gone. She was staring at Jason like she had just seen a ghost.
Percy's brain struggled to keep up. Are they siblings? His heart started hammering in his chest. Does that mean Jason's a son of Zeus—no, Jupiter? It hit him like a ton of bricks. I'm not the last child of the Big Three anymore. There's another contender for the prophecy.*
"Are you kidding me?" Percy muttered to himself. Jason Grace? A son of Jupiter? The Fates were clearly playing some kind of cosmic joke on him. "Great," Percy muttered louder this time, glaring up at the Gods on stage. "Just fantastic."
Athena ignored his outburst (not that Percy expected her to care), continuing as if she hadn't just upended his entire summer—again. "The third member of the quest will be chosen by both camps."
Percy barely registered that last part. He was too busy staring at Jason, who seemed just as confused and shocked as he was. The two of them locked eyes across the auditorium. For a second, Percy was sure they were about to exchange some kind of Hey, nice to meet you, but wow this sucks look, but before he could even blink, Jason was glaring right back at him.
Percy felt his irritation spike, grinding his teeth. Great, another "perfect leader" type. Just what the quest needed—two guys trying to outdo each other. He could already feel the tension brewing, and they hadn't even started yet.
But then Percy's gaze shifted back to Nico, standing at the front of the room, looking relieved but emotionally spent. The way Nico's eyes brightened when Percy had spoken up earlier—it had hit Percy in a way he wasn't expecting. Nico was standing up in front of all these people, commanding respect, and it was clear how much this moment meant to him.
The chants of "Triumvirate Emperor" still echoed in Percy's ears. This was Nico's place. Nico's school. His sanctuary. And if the Gods were about to drag them all into another ridiculous quest, then the least Percy could do was, have Nico's back. He was the King of Elysium Prep, the Ghost King, and Percy wasn't going to let anyone—including some Roman kid with a chip on his shoulder—doubt him again.
Percy stood up, leveling a look at Nico. "Fine. I'll do it," he said, loud enough for the whole room to hear. "We'll bring back this statue, unite the camps, do whatever. But we're not doing it because the Gods say so. We're doing it because Nico made this place safe for all of us. And that's what matters."
Jason, still standing on the other side, nodded in agreement, his voice firm but without hesitation. "Nico has always been there for Camp Jupiter and New Rome. We owe him more than just loyalty. He's earned our trust."
The room seemed to pulse with energy, the tension between Greek and Roman demigods ebbing just slightly. And then, as if in one collective decision, the crowd began chanting again, louder this time. "Triumvirate Emperor! Triumvirate Emperor!"
Percy glanced at Nico, who stood there, eyes wide and full of emotion, tears welling up as the chanting grew louder. He tried to bow, to thank them, but the sheer noise and power of the moment seemed to overwhelm him.
For the first time in what felt like forever, Percy saw Nico di Angelo in a new light. Nico was a leader—their leader.
And for the first time, Nico didn't seem to mind the spotlight.
Once the Goddesses flickered out of existence—Athena throwing one last withering glare at the Roman side of the auditorium for good measure—the tension in the room became almost unbearable. Percy let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding, but any relief was short-lived. The moment Juno and Athena disappeared, Chiron and Lupa stepped forward, their imposing presences reminding everyone that, Goddess drama or not, decisions still had to be made.
"Now," Chiron began, his voice calm but firm, "we must choose the third member to accompany Perseus Jackson and Jason Grace on this quest."
Lupa's silver eyes gleamed as she surveyed the demigods. She didn't say anything, but the weight of her gaze was enough to silence anyone too eager to shout their own name. The wolf radiated a kind of primal authority, the kind that made even the most stubborn demigod shut up and pay attention.
For about two seconds.
Then, as if on cue, the bickering started.
"I think it's obvious the third member should be one of the Romans," one of the kids from Camp Jupiter spoke up, his voice carrying over the murmur of the crowd.
Percy's eye twitched. Oh, here we go.
"Oh, so we're supposed to just forget the fact that the Triumvirate was a bunch of Roman emperors?" one of the Athena kids shot back, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Because that's not suspicious at all."
"Yeah!" another Greek demigod chimed in. "Nero? Caligula? Commodus? They were your guys."
The Roman demigods bristled, their faces hardening as they exchanged looks. Percy could feel the divide widening with every second. Jason had gone stiff beside him, his arms crossed, his expression unreadable but definitely not happy.
A Roman kid in the back stood up. "Are you kidding me? We didn't choose them! You think we wanted those psychos running the show? Are we also going to forget that you graceus are not so squeaky clean? Like, I don't know, Luke Castellan? Last time I checked, he was Greek and is the one leading the Titan faction!"
Percy winced at that. Ouch. He couldn't argue with that one, though. Luke is one of theirs.
The room devolved into a full-on shouting match. The Greeks and Romans bickered back and forth, insults flying with all the subtlety of a hydra smashing through a gift shop. The Athena kids looked particularly agitated, no doubt fueled by how much their mother despised the Roman side of herself. Percy could almost hear their brains whirring with strategic insults and counterarguments, while the Romans, as stoic as they tried to be, were clearly ready to throw down if this kept up.
Percy groaned, slouching in his seat. "This is going well," he muttered, glancing sideways at Nico who was descended the stage to come sit beside them. "Any chance you can, I don't know, ghost-punch everyone into shutting up?"
Nico, still looking a bit dazed from the chanting and the emotional overload of being declared a literal emperor of his own school, just sighed. "Tempting. But that's more of a last resort move."
"Right," Percy said dryly. "Because we're so close to solving this peacefully."
Meanwhile, Jason, who was walking towards them, looked like he was about five seconds away from launching himself into the argument. His shoulders were squared, and his face had that Roman "I'm about to restore order".
"Dude," Percy said, leaning in. "Maybe don't jump into that. They'll tear you apart."
Jason gave him a sideways look, his mouth set in a hard line. "We have to figure this out. If they keep arguing, it'll turn into an all-out brawl. You know what's at stake."
Percy sighed. He did know. But watching the way the demigods from both camps were starting to form into separate clusters, throwing accusations across the room, he wasn't sure how they were going to pull this off without someone losing a limb.
One of the Athena kids, clearly fed up, threw her hands up. "Look, if you Romans hadn't been so obsessed with control, the Triumvirate never would have happened! You can't trust a government that puts emperors in charge!"
"Oh, like the Greek system's better?" snapped a Roman demigod with a Laurel tattoo on his arm. "Your people fight over everything. It's no wonder Luke Castellan turned against you. Half the time, it seems like you Greeks can't even figure out who's in charge."
Percy facepalmed, groaning.
Chiron and Lupa stood in silence, watching as the shouting escalated. The centaur's expression was grim, his eyes flicking between the factions as if waiting for the moment when someone would throw the first punch. Lupa, on the other hand, looked mildly amused. Like she was just waiting to see who would prove themselves worthy of being part of the pack.
Annabeth, sitting among the Huntresses, finally stood up, raising her voice. "Enough! We're not getting anywhere like this."
The room quieted for a moment, but the tension still buzzed in the air like static. Annabeth's gaze swept across the demigods, her gray eyes hard and focused. "We're supposed to be working together. If this is going to work, we need to stop pointing fingers and start looking for solutions."
Percy let out a low whistle. "Glad someone's still thinking straight."
Jason stepped forward, his voice cutting through the last of the grumbling. "The Huntress is right. We're on the same side here. Greeks, Romans—we've all fighting to protect this world. The Triumvirate is gone, but the Titans aren't. If we don't get our act together, we're going to lose everything."
Percy couldn't help but feel grudging respect for Jason. He might have been a bit too Roman for Percy's taste, but the guy had a point. He knew how to rally a crowd when it mattered.
The room quieted down a little more, but there was still an uneasy tension, like everyone was waiting for the next spark to set it off again.
Percy, taking a deep breath, finally spoke up. "Look, we're not going to solve centuries of Greek and Roman grudges in one afternoon." He glanced between the two camps, his voice more serious than usual. "But we have to figure this out. We've already got our quest leaders." He gestured to himself and Jason. "Now we need someone who can help both sides see eye to eye."
The room fell into a contemplative silence. Percy didn't know how they were going to pick someone, but one thing was for sure: if they didn't figure it out soon, this whole thing was going to turn into a war before the actual quest even began.
Chiron, ever the diplomat, stepped forward again. "Very well. We must come to a decision. Who will join Perseus Jackson and Jason Grace on this quest?"
For a moment, the room was silent. Percy dared to hope that maybe, just maybe, they could pick someone who wouldn't be a complete disaster. Reyna? She'd be perfect. Hylla, even. Someone with actual experience. Maybe even—
"Octavian," a Roman demigod called out from the back, their voice cutting through the silence.
The name hung in the air like a bad smell.
Jason's face immediately fell. Percy could feel the tension radiating off him like a broken lightning rod. Nico grimaced, his normally composed expression twisting into something that looked dangerously close to a death glare.
Percy blinked. Octavian? That name didn't exactly ring any "heroic" bells. He glanced at Jason and Nico, both of whom looked like they'd just been sentenced to a week in Tartarus.
"Uh, Octavian?" Percy whispered to Jason. "Who's this guy, and why does everyone suddenly look like they want to throw him into the River Styx?"
Jason let out a long, tired sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. "Octavian is... a problem."
Nico crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing as he muttered, "Power-hungry doesn't even begin to cover it."
Jason nodded in agreement. "He's one of the most ambitious legacies in New Rome. Always talking about destiny, power, restoring glory to the Romans—y'know, the usual political garbage. He's got a lot of support from some of the more... conservative legacies. Thinks he's owed a praetorship or something."
Percy frowned. That didn't sound good. "So, why'd they pick him for the quest?"
"Because he's got influence," Nico said, his voice dark. "He's been pushing for more control in New Rome, and a lot of the older legacies back him up. He might be a legacy, but he thinks like a politician. He knows how to play people. That's probably why he was pushed as an option."
Jason crossed his arms. "He's been angling for more power for ages. I'm guessing the Romans chose him because they don't entirely trust the Greeks. He's their way of keeping an eye on things."
Percy's stomach twisted. "So basically, they just picked a guy who's going to try and take over the quest?"
"Pretty much," Jason said grimly. "He won't say it outright, but Octavian doesn't see this as a team effort. He sees it as an opportunity to prove himself and grab more influence."
Fantastic, Percy thought, resisting the urge to facepalm again. "And no one thought to maybe pick someone who isn't power-hungry and shady?"
Nico shrugged, his expression resigned. "Hylla would've been a better option, but... I believe resentment is starting to grow. She knew about both camps, but because of her oath to the River Styx, she couldn't reveal the truth. Some people might hold that against her, even though it wasn't her fault."
"Great," Percy muttered. "So instead of Hylla, we get this Octavian guy."
Jason's face hardened. "We'll just have to make sure he doesn't screw things up. This quest is too important."
Percy didn't like the way Jason's voice sounded—like he was preparing for battle before they even left. The tension between Greeks and Romans was already on a knife's edge, and now they were going to add a guy like Octavian into the mix?
From the back of the room, Octavian himself stepped forward, his face a mask of smug confidence that made Percy's skin crawl. He was tall and slender, with a cold smile that screamed politician more than hero. His blue eyes gleamed with an unsettling mixture of ambition and superiority, and the way he carried himself—like he already assumed he was in charge—immediately rubbed Percy the wrong way.
"Honored to be selected," Octavian said smoothly, his voice dripping with false modesty. "I look forward to leading this quest alongside Centurion Jason and... Perseus Jackson."
Percy grimaced. He could feel Octavian's eyes on him, appraising him like he was already figuring out how to manipulate the situation to his advantage. Percy didn't like the guy. Not one bit.
"Well," Percy said, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, "this is going to be... interesting."
Jason gave him a look that said, It's going to be a disaster.
Nico stayed silent, his expression unreadable, but Percy could sense the storm brewing beneath the surface. This wasn't the team he had hoped for, and with Octavian on board, things were going to get messy.
Chiron cleared his throat and tried to bring the focus back to the task at hand. "Very well. The team is set. Percy, Jason, and Octavian will lead the quest to retrieve the Athena Parthenos. It is a mission of great importance, and you must work together, despite your differences."
Percy resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Work together." Right. Because that had always been so easy.
Octavian's smile didn't waver, but there was something unsettling about it—like he was already planning how to use the quest to his advantage. Percy felt his gut churn with unease.
"Well," Percy muttered under his breath, "I guess it's time to go play nice with the Romans."
Jason sighed. "Yeah. Fun."