I was gassed.

Heket wasn't lying—summoning those ribbons was a force and a half. I felt drained.

Don't get me wrong—that cost felt steep, and my legs and arms felt like jelly, sure, but all of that was much better than having to fight Jason and Prometheus at the same time. Now that's something I don't honestly know if I could've done.

Grace…there was something familiar about that last name. I felt like it was on the tip of my tongue, but I just couldn't remember right now.

Not that I had the time.

Jason was eyeing me with a dangerous look—like a crazed animal, almost. Electricity sparked at his fingertips, humming against his sword. It gave an ominous background noise to what already felt like a pretty scary situation.

I was half-expecting the Michael Myers theme song to start playing in the background.

Another lightbulb flickered out as I hefted Riptide, looking warily at the angry blonde, "Jason, you—"

Jason screwed his eyes shut, and a tremor passed through his body. When his eyes opened again, they were glowing blue and really angry. "That's not my name!"

There was a crackling noise, followed by a loud thunderclap. I rolled, and the spot I was standing on was sizzling.

I frowned at him, "Listen, man, I don't want to fight you. Let me do what I came here to do."

"My father has told me to fight," Jason snarled, removing a coin from his pocket. He clutched it tightly. "Thus, I will. Where is he?"

"He's gone," I said, pulling my spare sword out from my [Inventory] and flipping it so that it was held in a reverse grip. Dual wield Percy was in full form, "For good."

"Don't make me laugh," Jason said, flipping the coin. To my surprise, when it landed back in his hand, it was a golden blade with a worn leather hilt. He spun his curved sword, settling into an aggressive stance. We mirrored each other perfectly, "My father wouldn't lose to you."

"Well, he did," The fizzy water from the soda machine was spilling onto the floor. "And you will, too, if you attack. Let's talk this out. I think there's something going on, Jason. We don't need to fight right now—"

"I told you, that isn't my name!" Jason screamed loudly, a frantic tinge to his tone. He exploded toward me, blasting through the air like a rocket.

CLANG!

His curved sword smashed into Riptide, and I actually felt myself skid back a little. This dude was strong.

I twirled Riptide and lashed out at my cousin. The blade should have gone straight through his right shoulder, but the blonde was unbelievably fast and well-trained. Even in the haze and low light of the bar, Jason dodged and parried as if he could see all my moves before I even pulled them out.

I hadn't crossed swords with an opponent like this since…well, since I took on Ares a while back. Jason was honestly just that good.

I'd practiced some of my swordsmanship against Triton, but even he wasn't this good.

Well, in terms of swordsmanship, that is. Triton's more of a brawler, with daggers and shape-shifting and all that. All I've gotten to work on against him is reflexes and timing, as well as how to take a few hits.

When we train, he doesn't actively try to hurt me—just punishes missteps and attacks that don't work out. It's annoying, sure, but it's not life-threatening and not too painful by any stretch. It's an exercise in tightening my form and decision-making, not a trial run against an opponent.

And…that might just be what my undoing is right now.

I guess what I'm trying to get at is I'm rusty against someone who fights back with the intent to kill and the skill to back it up—an adversary like Jason, if you will.

We battled back and forth, thrusting and parrying. Much to my annoyance, I could still hear Luke in my head, throwing out suggestions. It wasn't helping. He was in my head from earlier.

Even with my boosted reflexes and insane skill, Jason was just better. Prometheus must've been training him his whole life—a few months of exponentially boosted training wasn't going to make up for a lifetime of rigid preparation.

My arms felt tired. My body was sluggish from the spell I cast on Prometheus. Jason's lifeless face was too unnerving. His glowing eyes, the damp room, the blurring tip of his blade—none of it was helping me focus.

I feinted and thrust at Jason's gut, but he anticipated the move. He knocked my sword out of my hand again, and Riptide clattered against the floor.

He wasn't even winded. He pressed the tip of his golden sword against my sternum.

"Well, what is your name, then?" I gritted out, pushing him back by manipulating the water into a fist that socked him in the face.

He flailed backward, falling onto the floor. He coughed and spit out some water a moment later, his blonde hair sticking to his forehead.

"Arcas!" Jason roared a moment later, the air around me folding in on itself.

Yeah, you read that right. The air itself folded in on me.

I felt the breath get torn out of my lungs as I was forcibly picked up by the air and sent hurtling further into the facility, crashing through a shelf full of vials. I spluttered as some raspberry-flavored liquid dripped into my mouth.

"Your name is Arcas?" I continued, rubbing my throat, and standing back up. "Like, Arcas from the myths? You realize how ironic that is, right? Prometheus kidnapped you and named you after one of your own brothers."

"Prometheus didn't kidnap me, he saved me," Jason blasted another arc of lightning at me, little lines splintering off as it careened toward me. I raised my hand, and one of the metal dummies in the room flew in front of me, taking the brunt of the bolt. It was sent hurtling into the wall, a singe mark on its chest. "He took me in when I had no one else! He taught me how to be a warrior!"

"You can't seriously believe he had your best interests in mind," I continued, slashing my dagger at Jason.

He blocked it with his curved sword and jabbed his golden one at me. I sidestepped the jab, bringing Malice out of my [Inventory] and thrusting it down in a wide arc. As he went to block it, I aimed a mana-reinforced kick at his chest, catching him off guard and pushing him backward.

"The man was pumping you full of godly mana a moment ago!" I argued, and then suddenly stopped short.

Subject A. Arcas.

The realization hit me like a truck. Did Jason know? There's no way he knew he was nothing more than a subject to someone he considered a father. He wouldn't be fighting this hard if he did. Not if he knew what his 'father' had planned for him.

"You were a test subject to him! I have the papers to prove it!" I hollered. "Stop this dumb fight! This…you aren't helping anyone like this!"

Jason's eyes widened. "What? What the hell around you talking about?"

I tossed him the file. "See for yourself. Subject A."

There was a brief moment of time where Jason's shoulders dropped. He read the file, his hands starting to shake a bit. For a second, I even felt bad. Sure, we were going at it, but he just found out someone he considered a father was using him.

"Listen, man…I know it can be rough," I said. "But we're cousins. You're not alone. Let me help."

"You…this…" Jason sputtered, his fingers sparking. The edges of the file lit on fire. "This…NO!"

I saw his hand tense, and the entire area around us exploded in a blaze of heat and electricity. My eyes widened as he was on me, even faster than before.

I felt my face crack as Jason smashed into me with a thunderous haymaker. I recovered just in time for him to follow it up with an uppercut that sent me flying into the ceiling of the building. I stuck myself to the ceiling, trying to put some distance between me and my lunatic of a cousin.

"Are you fucking crazy?" I dodged another lightning bolt. "Did you not read the file?"

Jason was done talking. He removed some pellets from his belt and closed his fist around them. They glowed a pale shade of blue as he threw them toward me.

A gust of wind exploded from his fingertips, propelling the pellets toward me faster than I could see with my normal eye. I leaped off the ceiling, just as the pellets impacted behind me.

BOOM!

The metal ceiling was torn apart as the pellets grew, exploding into a cataclysm of lightning-charged shrapnel. I flipped back down onto one of the desks, glaring at Jason.

He wasn't willing to see reason—that could've killed me.

I wanted to help Jason. Really, I did. I didn't want a cousin of mine going crazy because Prometheus played mind games with him as a kid, but he didn't want to see the light, and I had a mission to do.

"HA!" I yelled, my voice ringing out like a battle cry.

Deep in my gut, I felt a fierce, almost electric tug as I willed the water to obey. The ground beneath Jason exploded with a deafening roar, a column of whitewater shooting up like a geyser. The sheer force of it was enough to yank him off his feet and drag him under, the churning froth swallowing him whole.

Inside the vortex, flashes of light burst through the chaos, streaks of gold and white flickering erratically as Jason sent bolts of lightning into it, trying to break free. The entire column pulsed with energy, illuminating the walls of the facility in brief, blinding flashes.

Each flicker sent jagged shadows darting across the corridor, the air vibrating with the hum of raw power. I clenched my fists, my whole body tensing as I worked to control the chaotic swirl. The water twisted and compressed, folding in on itself as I forced it into a dense, compact ball of pressure.

The flashes intensified, the light radiating through the liquid like trapped fireflies, growing brighter and more frantic with every passing second.

I bolted down the corridor, my sneakers skidding slightly against the wet, gleaming floor. My pulse thundered in my ears, adrenaline pushing me forward as the staff came into view. It was just up ahead, leaning casually against the far wall, glowing faintly as though taunting me. Behind me, the muffled roar of the water and Jason's shouts reminded me I didn't have much time.

Mr. D's staff was out in the open, placed on top of what looked like a metal immobilizer with holly and pine needles wrapped around it. There was another human-sized one right next to it, much to my horror.

Did…did Prometheus really clamp Jason in there?

That was…scary. Mana transfusion in the direction Oscorp had taken it in was an extremely dangerous process.

Hell, it was something that most of the gods still thought was impossible, but clearly, Oscorp's technology had found a way to make it work.

The spiders were a tremendously important step up what they could do before, and Jason was proof that it could work on demigods, but it wasn't quite at the mayday level I'd thought before. Still scary, though.

I didn't give myself too much time to ponder that thought. The makeshift water prison I'd forced Jason into was glowing blue now, and a moment later, it exploded. A completely drenched Jason looked around for a moment before his eyes locked onto me.

Remember that mana theory from earlier? That's what the needles and holly were there for. One of the ways you could bypass certain enchantments was by blending some elements to restrict the flow of mana inside.

Weird, I know, but think of it like insulating a live wire.

Putting my weapons back in my [Inventory], I coated my hands with water, letting my father's protection wash over me.

As you guys know, there are more ways to grab live wires—you can put on a pair of rubber gloves. I wouldn't get the major boost Jason had by permanently merging Mr. D's power with his own, but I could still use it.

Think of it as a temporary boost.

I grabbed Mr. D's staff off the clamp, feeling his godly energy feed into me. The world flickered, almost as if I switched from standard-definition to HD. Colors became more vivid. Lines became sharper. My field of view increased.

I took a deep breath, and the staff's tip flickered with forest green light.

Jason swung his arm, a bolt of lightning shooting toward me. I dodged it, jumping into the air, and pointing the staff at him.

BRRRRRR!

A monstrous amount of mana emerged from the staff, blasting Jason into a wall. Whether it was Jason's strength or the fact that he already had that mana coursing through his veins, he shrugged off the blast.

He growled, a deep, guttural sound that seemed to vibrate through the air around us.

With a sharp motion, he clapped his hands together, and the entire facility seemed to shudder in response. A blinding flash erupted from his palms, illuminating the room for the briefest second before everything was plunged into chaos.

The power surged toward him, ripping itself free from the wires, screens, and lightbulbs with a crackling fury. Sparks danced in the air, cascading like fiery raindrops as every electronic device in the base flickered and died. Thin tendrils of light snaked along the walls, tearing themselves from the metal conduits and racing toward him like streams of liquid energy.

His fingertips glowed as they absorbed the power, flickering with raw, volatile light. It wasn't just electricity—it was something alive, twisting and writhing as if trying to escape his grasp. The room fell into complete darkness, save for the faint, pulsing glow radiating from his hands. The shadows seemed thicker now, oppressive and alive, pressing in around me as the air grew heavy with the smell of ozone and scorched metal.

For a moment, it felt like the entire base was holding its breath, the silence broken only by the occasional crackle of residual sparks.

My pulse raced as I struggled to adjust to the sudden blackout, my eyes darting toward the faint glimmer of his fingertips—tiny beacons of light, both mesmerizing and terrifying in their intensity.

I remember back in health class, watching those corny testimonials about people who got shot. I have to say, packing a bunch of twelve-year-olds into a classroom after lunch, plopping them down into seats, and then making them watch a grizzled cop talk over a b-roll of gunshot victims was a pretty dumb way to warn us against the dangers of guns and drugs and stuff.

All the victims said they didn't even feel the bullet. They'd just recall a ringing sound and bam! Hospital bed.

I always thought that was a load of bullshit—that is, until Jason Grace hit me with the scariest lightning bolt I've ever seen.

The worst part? I couldn't even see it coming. Before I could ever begin to think about slowing down time, the bolt had left his fingertips. It was longer than a school bus, and just about as wide as a gym locker.

My skin tingled painfully. My insides knotted in and out, burning like molten lava was running through them. My mouth tasted bitter. I blacked out for a second.

When I opened my eyes again, I was soaring in the sky over the Hudson, my shirt torn apart and my skin raw and red. The staff was still tucked in my grasp, but man, I felt like shit.

Jason was soaring toward me like a jet, his weapons glittering in the pale moonlight. I narrowed my eyes, feeling the call of the Hudson underneath me. The water seemed to wake up my senses, as if I'd just had a bag of my mom's double espresso jelly beans.

My turn, now, cousin.

A jet of water erupted from the Hudson, churning around my waist. It oriented me and supercharged my senses even more than they were before.

"This ends now," I snarled, letting the water wash over my body and coalesce into armor. Before, on the ground, we were completely unmatched. That was Jason's turf—a facility full of electronic devices.

The river twisted and churned violently, bending entirely to my will. For the first time in what felt like forever, I let my power run wild—no holding back, no second-guessing, just raw, unrestrained energy.

The water responded like it had been waiting for this moment, rising higher and higher, its surface frothing and crashing in chaotic waves that mirrored the storm building in my chest. I raised Mr. D's staff high above my head, its weight almost insignificant in my grip, and the river exploded upward in a surge of titanic force.

The roar of the water was deafening as towering waves rose on either side of me, their sheer size so massive they seemed to swallow the sky. With a flick of my wrist, they crashed down on Jason like the wrath of a tsunami.

The impact echoed like thunder, and he let out a pained yell as the choppy, unrelenting current tossed him around like a rag doll. The wind was picking up now, screaming through the air with a ferocity that made it hard to tell where it came from—me or him.

It tore at my clothes and whipped my hair across my face, but I didn't care. The entire sky around us had darkened, shrouding the battlefield in an eerie, tempestuous twilight.

The sound of the howling wind and crashing water was so loud, I could barely hear my own thoughts, let alone the chaos unfolding around me. Jason shouted again, and with a furious burst of power, the waves recoiled from him, blasting outward in a shockwave that rippled through the air and churned the river into a frenzy.

He was panting, his shoulders heaving as he hovered above the water. Around him, the storm seemed to gather and concentrate, dark storm clouds swirling in a vortex that mirrored the battle below. The clouds glimmered with streaks of jagged lightning, the electricity illuminating his figure like a shadowed deity preparing for war. The sheer power radiating from him was intense, but I didn't falter.

The river beneath me surged, wild and alive, matching every gust of wind and crackle of thunder. This wasn't just a fight anymore—it was a storm, a battle of wills between water and sky, between two forces that refused to give an inch.

Freshwater droplets dripped onto my face, cold and stinging against my skin as the storm raged around us. I stood there, soaked to the bone, but it wasn't the rain or the wind that weighed me down.

It was the growing pit in my stomach, an ache that seemed to spread through me like a heavy fog. I knew I could end this fight now if I wanted to—end him now. Jason was faltering, worn down, and vulnerable.

On the other hand, I was just getting started. The balloon of power I'd felt for the first time in Atlantis was making itself known, and I knew that Jason couldn't hang. All it would take was one well-placed strike, one final surge of power, and it'd be over.

But…did I want that?

He wasn't my enemy. Not really. He was my cousin—a kid who'd been stolen from the life he should've had and thrown into one he didn't choose. A kid who'd been raised by the Titan of foresight, for crying out loud. What kind of childhood could that even have been? Every part of his life—every meal, every playtime, every thought—must've been meticulously planned out by a calculating, obsessive sociopath with an eternal grudge against the gods.

Jason didn't grow up like I did, with friends, family, or even the illusion of choice. His life was laid out for him before he could even understand what it meant to live it. I doubt he's ever had a moment of real emotional intimacy in his life.

Earlier, when I'd joked to Prometheus that he wanted me as a servant, the Titan had laughed it off, saying he was "all set on that account." Is this what he meant? Had Jason really been raised in the shadow of the old world, where a man's worth was measured solely by his strength as a warrior, by his ability to lead and conquer? Was his entire life reduced to fulfilling some outdated ideal of glory and legacy?

Jason's glowing eyes stared at me like foglights from behind the cloud cover.

This wasn't just a battle of power anymore. It wasn't about who could throw the strongest punch or call the wildest storm. This was a battle of wills.

On one side, there was Jason. He wasn't just fighting me—he was fighting for what he believed to be the closest thing he'd ever had to a father. Prometheus had molded him, shaped him into the perfect weapon, and now Jason thought he was upholding that legacy. He believed he was avenging the Titan who had given him purpose, who had defined his entire existence.

Maybe he was right, in his own twisted way. Maybe, to him, this fight was the only thing that made sense, the only thing that felt real.

And then there was me.

I wasn't fighting for one person. I wasn't fighting for revenge or legacy or some misguided sense of duty. I was fighting for everyone—everyone back at camp, everyone on Olympus, and, honestly, everyone in the world. Jason might not have realized it, but if the Titans won, no one would get off easy. Mortals, demigods, gods—it didn't matter. No one would be safe. This fight wasn't just about who was stronger.

It was about whose will would break first. And I wasn't about to let it be mine.

Jason wasn't giving me much of a choice, anyway. He summoned two wind-spirit-looking things to his side. Yeah, things.

I really don't know how else to describe them.

They were like…like if you took a human's body and switched it into a gaseous state of being. Their whole forms were composed of swirling black vapor, with eyes like electrical sparks in a living storm cloud. They sprouted black smoky wings and rose above Jason, pointing their fingers at me.

A funnel cloud materialized around me. The winds switched gears, battering me and trying to shove me out of the sky.

Fat chance. The Hudson creaked and groaned, spilling out more water to keep me upright.

I roared, letting the staff fill my body with energy.

I called to the sea. I reached inside myself and remembered the feeling of utter control and dominance I'd had in Atlantis. Everything from the hopes and dreams of its residents to the call of the animals, to the waves and the currents, the endless power of the ocean.

Of my father's domain. Of my domain.

I manipulated the moisture in the air around me in a circular motion while drawing water from the river—I didn't even care if I lost track of the water in the air and too much or too little spilled over.

Mr. D's staff glowed brightly in the dark clouds, like a beam of light piercing the darkness. I knew Jason was closing in on me with his spirit buddies.

I took everything in. I mean everything.

The spinning clouds above me, swirling in chaotic arcs like they were alive. The waves surging so high they could have scraped the underbelly of a plane. The flickering storm around me, each bolt of lightning tearing through the sky with deafening cracks that vibrated in my chest. And the air—it was thick with moisture, so dense it felt like I could grab it with my hands.

It was there, all of it, and it was mine to command.

But it wasn't just the storm I was taking in. It was my feelings, too—raw, unfiltered, and crashing over me like the waves I was controlling. The pain from Jason's relentless attacks, my body aching with every movement. The strange flicker of happiness that, for all his faults, I had a relative out there—even if he was trying to kill me.

But the hardest part? The unfairness of it all. Why was I being forced to fight Jason, my own cousin, when we should've grown up together? Instead of facing off like enemies, we could've been allies—no, more than that. I let myself dream, just for a moment, of what could have been.

I pictured us as kids, growing up together. Jason and I walking into camp for the first time, wide-eyed and nervous, sticking close to each other because we were family. I imagined us taking arts and crafts classes together, glue and glitter everywhere, Jason teasing me for my horrible bead-painting skills. We'd have learned to swordfight side by side—Luke would've taught us, making it a competition, of course. Chiron would've been there, his calm voice explaining the dangers of the world while we sat around the campfire, making plans to take it on together.

I could've spent summers in Atlantis, exploring the underwater kingdom with him visiting on breaks from whatever Zeus had arranged for him. He'd tease me about my crushes, and I'd do the same to him. We could've shared the milestones—the first monster I ever killed, the first real victory I ever had with a sword.

He would've been there for all of it, sharing those moments like the brother he should've been. My best friend.

But that wasn't what happened. Instead, Jason had been taken, raised under the cold, calculating hand of Prometheus, and molded into someone who saw me as an enemy. And now, here we were, standing on opposite sides of a battlefield that neither of us chose, fighting a war that should never have been ours.

The storm surged around me, mirroring the chaos inside. He should've been my brother. He should've been standing beside me, not against me. And yet, here we were.

And now, I was going to have to kill him, or he'd kill me.

It's so unfair.

I let it loose in one terrible, guttural scream.

An explosion, a tidal wave, a whirlwind of power—everything I had—erupted from my body with so much force that it felt like it might tear me apart. The sound of my scream tore through the air, raw and unrestrained, echoing in the chaos around me.

The Earth trembled beneath my feet, reacting to my anger and frustration. The ground split open with a deep, monstrous groan, the kind that made your bones shake. Lava spewed out from the cracks, glowing molten orange as it poured into the Hudson. The collision of fire and water sent bursts of superheated steam hissing into the air, clouds of white vapor obscuring the battlefield like a boiling stormcloud.

I didn't care. All of it—the fire, the water, the raw power rushing through me—was a means to one end. The staff in my hands pulsed with energy, vibrating in sync with the fury coursing through me. I shot upward on a jet of water, an explosion beneath my feet launching me so high into the air that I felt like I might brush the stars. Zeus would've hated it, but I wasn't thinking about that. I wasn't thinking about anything except Jason.

He was waiting for me, his figure outlined by the flickering storm clouds around him, his body glowing with the crackling energy of an overcharged bolt of lightning. His friends were there too, their combined power charging the air so much I could taste the electricity on my tongue. But I didn't care. All I saw was Jason, and all I felt was the weight of everything that had led us here.

The staff came down, glowing with everything I had left, every ounce of my strength. I was going to hit him. I was going to end this.

But in that final second, something inside me shifted.

I saw his face—not the enemy's, not the warrior's, but the kid's. The boy who'd been taken, shaped, manipulated by forces beyond his control. He wasn't just Jason, my opponent. It was Jason, my cousin. Jason, who should've been fighting beside me, not against me.

I pulled back, just enough. The staff scraped against his shoulder instead of slamming into him full force, the blow redirected at the last possible moment. The energy discharged in a deafening crack, sending him flying backward.

Jason hit the ground hard, tumbling in a cloud of steam and dirt. I could see the scorch marks on his armor where the staff had barely clipped him. He groaned, struggling to get up, his lightning flickering and dimming.

But I didn't get to see what happened next. The force of the explosion caught up to me, and the last thing I remember was flying—flying so high Zeus probably would've struck me down on principle—and then falling. Falling fast.

Everything went black.

Screaming. I heard…lots and lots of screaming.

I was floating in mid-air, the Thrysus still in my hands. The entire area around me was decimated. The sky above me was covered in smoke and steam, and the entire area smelled like burning tinfoil. Somewhere off in the distance, I could still hear the sound of lava bubbling into the water. There was fire everywhere. Above us, the storm we'd both created was howling out of control, sending small arcs of lightning down all over the river.

My attention snapped to Jason, who was lying on the ground somewhere near me. I let the Hudson drop me off in front of him.

He growled and snarled, pushing himself to his feet. Half of his face was covered in blood and soot, and his right arm was a decimated mess. He staggered over to me, his fingers twitching as a small arc of electricity kept shooting back and forth.

"Look, man, we don't have to do this."

Jason's determined stride faltered, his steps turning into a stumble, and then he crumpled to the ground beside me. His breaths came in shallow gasps, his chest heaving as if every inhale was a struggle against gravity itself.

Despite it all, he forced himself to move, dragging his battered body inch by inch until he could raise his hand at me. His fingers sparked faintly, remnants of the lightning that had once coursed through him like a storm barely contained. His face twisted into a grimace of pure determination, his mouth opening to deliver some final declaration. But no words came.

"Don't bother," I muttered, gripping the Thyrsus tightly in my hand. I raised it between us, the faint glow of its magic a warning, an unspoken threat. "You won't live."

"Good," Jason coughed, "I'd rather die than become a slave to the gods like you."

I flinched at the venom in his words. For some reason, it stung more than his lightning ever had. "You don't even know what you're talking about."

Jason let out a harsh laugh, though it sounded more like a wheeze. "Don't I? You think you're so different, don't you? You're just another pawn in their game, Percy. You think they care about you? About anyone?"

"Maybe they do, maybe they don't," I said quietly. "Maybe they're using me. But at least I'm fighting for something bigger than myself. What are you fighting for, Jason? Revenge? A lie Prometheus told you to keep you on his leash?"

Jason's jaw tightened, his sparks flaring briefly before sputtering out again. "You think you know me?" he hissed. "You don't. You have no idea what it's like to have your entire life planned out for you. Every move, every thought, every moment of your existence dictated by someone else."

"Don't I?" I shot back, my voice rising despite myself. "You think I chose this? To be the one carrying the weight of the gods' screw-ups? To constantly put my life on the line because no one else will?"

He hesitated, his eyes narrowing, but there was something in his expression that softened. "Then why do it? Why let them use you?"

"Because someone has to," I said, "Because if I don't, people die. Good people. People who didn't ask for this, just like you and me."

Jason's mouth opened, but before he could reply, his eyes flicked over my shoulder. I turned instinctively at the sound of a scream—high-pitched and frantic.

A woman was running toward us, panic written across her face as she reached for her child, who had wandered too close to the chaos.

The little girl couldn't have been more than five years old. She stumbled toward us on unsteady legs, her big, bright blue eyes fixed on Jason and me with a look of innocent wonder. She wasn't afraid. She didn't see the blood, the bruises, or the raw, chaotic power hanging in the air between us.

"What is she doing?" Jason whispered, his voice tinged with something like panic. His hand trembled mid-air, the faint sparks on his fingertips disappearing entirely.

"She doesn't see us," I said, my voice hollow. "The Mist is probably making her see something else. Two kids, maybe. Playing in the dirt."

"She has no idea…" His voice broke, and for the first time, I saw something in his eyes that wasn't anger or hatred. It was fear. Jason stared at her, his body frozen.

The woman reached the child, scooping her up in a frantic motion and holding her close. The little girl turned her head, smiling at us like we were part of some story she'd made up in her head. She even waved, her tiny hand flopping up and down before she buried her face in her mother's shoulder.

Jason's hand dropped limply to his side, his body sagging as if all the fight had drained out of him. He looked at me, his eyes glassy and far away.

"Jason?"

He blanched and screwed his eyes shut again, this time muttering something under his breath. He'd looked like he'd seen a ghost.

I only caught one word: Thalia.

Oh. Oh.

I felt like smacking myself.

Thalia Grace. Jason Grace. Zeus hadn't just had one kid—he'd had fucking two of them.

Jason was full-blown sobbing now, pounding his fist into the ground. He sobbed, "Thalia! Thalia! Why?"

Maybe some of his old memories were coming back? Was all he needed a little bit of reminding, and a big ol' zap from Mr. D's staff?

Zeus, that sounded wrong.

I remembered the Michael Scott quote: How do you tell somebody that you care about deeply, "I told you so." Gently with a rose? In a funny way, like it's a hilarious joke? Or do you just let it go, because saying it would just make things worse…probably the funny way.

I turned back to Jason, who was looking at me, a desperate and haunting look in his eyes.

I knew that look. I remember seeing it plastered all over my own when I was younger. It wasn't the fear of not fitting in, or not having a family or anything—though, those were all parts of it.

It was the fear of being alone.

The fear that, you know, when it's all said and done, and the dust settles down, you'll have nothing left. That it'll be just you.

No cousin of mine was going to feel that way. No demigod should have to.

That's why I took this forsaken rolling quest. That's why I even bothered going to such lengths to beat it into Jason.

This wasn't the only option.

We didn't have to be alone. We didn't have to struggle. The life of a demigod didn't have to be lonely and violent. We could have each other. I tapped the staff on the ground and knelt next to him. He looked at me expectantly, as if he thought I was going to finish the job, but I just smiled.

"You don't have to go at it alone," I said. "Not anymore."

Jason's eyes widened. "But…I just tried to kill you! I…fuck, I was so wrong."

Did I think Jason was going to automatically switch sides and support the gods? Hell no! The man was raised by a Titan. Just getting some memories back wasn't going to break him of that sort of influence.

It would speed up the process, sure, but I'd still have to keep an eye on him. If that's what it takes, that's okay. No demigod left behind.

How ironic, was it, then, that Prometheus had named Jason after Arcas, the guy who'd almost shot his own mom? He wasn't that different from the original after all…still trying to kill his own family by mistake.

The road to Olympus was rough. After our little conversation, Jason passed out, so I had to walk all the way to Manhattan—I went through the Duat, of course—with Jason in my arms.

Eventually, my exhaustion caught up to me, and I ended up crumpling on the sidewalk. I texted Triton for help.

The conversation went something like this:

P: Triton, I need help. I'm literally on the floor right now.

T: Really? What's so funny?

P: Triton, please, I'm dying!

T: Perce, bro, you haven't sent anything. Did you put it on your story? Instagram? Snapchat?

P: Triton. Empire State Building. Pretzel.

T: What?

P: I'm doing voice-to-text. Just come to the Empire State Building!

"So, this is what you meant," Triton grinned at me, appearing out of thin air a moment later. "Huh. I thought you sent me a meme I didn't see or something."

His time on the overworld had changed him a bit—he was wearing a faded black sweater with a pair of faded blue jeans and black Doc Martens. He topped off the whole look with a large coffee from Dunkin Donuts.

All in all, he looked like he was ready to go to a Nirvana concert or school. With the way kids were dressing these days, it really could've been either.

He hefted Jason on his back and supported me with his other arm. "Come on. I haven't been to Olympus in forever."

Just like last time, an enormous fire crackled in the central hearth pit, where I saw Hestia sitting. She ran to me when I walked into the room, wrapping my body in a warm, healing hug.

"I'm sorry," She whispered to me, fiery tears forming in her eyes. "I wanted to help…but my brother…"

I hugged her tighter. "It's okay, auntie. It's okay."

The thrones were almost all filled. Ignoring the immense pressure of the room, I stared at the rest of the Olympians, some of whom were flickering uncontrollably with Jason in the room.

"Apollo," Zeus commanded, his eyes softening at Jason's prone form. "Tend to your brother."

I didn't have to be told what to do. I came toward the throne all the way in the center and knelt, even as my entire body screamed in protest.

Apollo had wheeled Jason off to some infirmary, giving Triton a pretty cool-looking handshake. I didn't get that sort of treatment, unfortunately. Zeus had my dad summon a kiddie pool, and he commanded me to step inside.

"You at least could've given me a rubber ducky or something," I complained to my dad, who grinned at me proudly. He nodded his head to Triton, who gave him a friendly wave.

"Tell us what happened, boy," Zeus said, a lot more gently than he had the first time I met him. He looked tired—old.

I told them everything. From the weird Minotaur, to Peter getting his powers from the Thyrsus, to Prometheus kidnapping Jason.

When I got to that part, Zeus' knuckles tightened on his throne to the point of whiteness. He stroked his beard thoughtfully, "Tell me, Perseus…what is it you know of Prometheus?"

"He gave humans fire," I relayed simply. "And you chained him to a rock for it."

I was expecting Zeus to blast me with his bolt on the spot for my lip, but to everyone's surprise, he gave out a booming laugh. He turned to Poseidon, "I'm beginning to like your boy, brother."

My dad grinned proudly as if he had just won a bet, "I told you, he gets his humor from me."

"Yes, well," Zeus cleared his throat, turning back to me. "That is not quite what happened. Boy, when the days were cold and dark, and we'd just won our first battles against them, the Titans Epimetheus and Prometheus were given the task of distributing the means of survival to each living creature. Epimetheus asked Prometheus that he be allowed to do it, and, with Prometheus's agreement, he proceeded with his quest. Under Epimetheus' care, some creatures were given speed, some strength or cunning, and others flight. When Prometheus returned to see how the task was progressing, he'd discovered that Epimetheus was finished. The problem, however, that there was nothing left to give to humans. He observed the humans' discomfort; they were hungry, cold, and defenseless. He pitied them. So, Prometheus stole fire from Olympus and with it, the technical arts for humans."

A real bad guy, I wanted to say, but I didn't feel like pushing my luck. I didn't want to risk getting on Zeus' bad side when I'd just begun to get on his good side by bringing his son back to Olympus.

"With these gifts, your kind acquired the ability to know things, to build, to engineer. These gifts, though, were not distributed equally among all people, so some were skilled at trade work, others with smithing, others at war. I noticed this but did nothing to stop it. In my early days as a ruler, there were many…things I was unskilled at. This was one of them," Zeus sighed greatly, leaning forward. "So, I observed you, humans, with your new capabilities and found them to still be wanting; you were unorganized and without virtue, after all. How could you not be? My lack of knowledge was not an unwillingness to help. I directed Hermes to go to Earth and to give the people the civic arts. I wanted to bring respect and right among men, to the end that there should be regulation of cities and friendly ties to draw them together. And unlike Prometheus, I wanted to let you all have your share; for cities could not be formed if only a few humans had a share of these arts."

I was shocked into silence—which is saying a lot because I have something to say most of the time. That…that completely changed my view on things! This whole time, I thought Zeus punished Prometheus because he tried to help us—not because he fucked us over!

"So, you see, child, Prometheus did not suffer because of his desire to help, he suffered because of the problem he created by giving men fire and technology but not the civic virtue to complement them. Understand this—if there is to be balance and good in society then the civic arts must accompany the technical arts. One cannot exist without the other. The existence Prometheus would've condemned you all to would have been one of great suffering—that is why he was punished," Zeus finished off, raising his hands, "Prometheus was punished because in having the gift of forethought he should have known that to steal only the technical gifts humans would become a menace to themselves, to other creatures and, eventually, to the earth itself."

There was an unspoken implication in there somewhere.

As the Titan of Forethought, Prometheus would've known what giving fire to humans would result in. Zeus, even despite what he was saying now, didn't subject Prometheus to thousands of years of torture for just a slight mistake. He knew that Prometheus did it on purpose.

Damn.

Zeus smiled at me as if to say: told ya so!

"That's something," I said intelligently, much to the amusement of my uncle. Another question suddenly bubbled up in my mind, "Is that why he took Jason?"

"I'd be a fool to say it wasn't one of the reasons," Zeus confirmed, flickering between forms again.

"That…flickering," I pointed out. Heart hammering, I remembered Hera's name jumping back and forth between Juno and Hera. "It's because of Jason, isn't it? He's not Greek."

"Perseus…"

"There are Roman demigods," The reality of my statement set in, and I doubled over. Triton gave me a comforting hand on my shoulder. "Gods. Why have we never run into each other? Ever?"

"You have, Perce, a fuck ton of times. It's always a shitshow, and always the major gods do their best to wipe clean the memories of those involved. The rivalry goes all the way back to the Trojan War. The Greeks invaded Troy and burned it to the ground. That prick Aeneas escaped, and eventually made his way to Italy, where he founded the race that would someday become Rome," Triton explained, holding me upright. He glanced at the gods, who'd settled into their other forms. "The Romans grew more and more powerful, worshipping the same gods but under different names, and with slightly different personalities."

"More warlike," Hestia—no—Vesta said. "More united. More about expansion, conquest, and discipline."

My dad looked older, and more serious. His eyes still held warmth as he looked at me, though, "The Romans admired Greek culture, and were a little jealous. In return, the Greeks thought the Romans were barbarians, but they respected their military power. So, during Roman times, demigods started to divide—either Greek or Roman."

"So, Jason's setting all of you off," I guessed, to which the council nodded. I felt a rush of anger, "He's not going anywhere."

"He doesn't have to," Vesta came to my aid, defiantly looking at the rest of the Olympians. "We'll do our best to keep this under wraps. Prometheus doesn't have a Roman counterpart, so chances are, Jason doesn't know. You can keep him at camp."

She paused for a moment as if waiting for someone to argue with her. When no one did, she nodded to herself. "Good. It is settled. Let us return to our Greek forms."

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't relieved when the gods I'd come to know swam back into my vision, one by one.

"Your reports of the Titans are…concerning," Zeus said. He looked around the council, "Let us ponder this. We will reconvene in a few months' time."

He turned back to me, "Perseus…take care of my son."

He disappeared in a bolt of lightning.

I was hit with a round of déjà vu. It felt just like it had when I'd returned Zeus' lightning bolt. Most of the other gods, left, except Athena, my dad, and Hera. Even Hermes didn't look too happy after that meeting.

Mr. D picked his staff up off the ground, smiling wickedly. He turned to me, grinning, "Oh, yes! This is good. Here, boy. For your service."

He tossed me some car keys to a car. "Mr. D, I can't drive."

"This is the home of the free, land of the brave, is it not?" He snarked. "Enjoy."

"Dickwad," Triton said as he disappeared. "God, I hate that fat fuck."

"Triton," Poseidon warned. "Language."

"Yeah, yeah…"

Hera was happy to see me, and even happier that I'd taken some more steps toward uniting the good ol' fam. She gave me a tentative hug and disappeared to the infirmary, where she said she wanted to see Jason.

I got ready to leave with Triton when Athena walked up to us. Athena stood in the middle of the road with her arms crossed and a look on her face that made me think uh-oh. She'd changed out of her armor, into jeans and a white blouse, but she didn't look any less warlike. Her gray eyes blazed.

I thought she was coming to lay into me, but she turned to Triton, who grinned awkwardly. "Little Owl—"

"Don't you little owl me!" Athena snapped. "Two months! Two whole months without an IM, or even a little drop-in? You could've even had your brother here run a message up!"

I gaped at the two.

Triton smiled at me, "Athena's…sort of like a daughter to me."

"You're kidding."

"Nope!" Triton said, throwing an arm around Athena's neck. "Sorry, owlie. I was learning a thing or two from Perce, over here. Speaking of which, do you know about this place called Cugino's? I know you're the goddess of wisdom and all, but their pizza is just…"

— - —

Quest Complete!

[SIDE QUEST]

{The Green Goblin!}

[Quest Prompt]: Spurred on by the discovery of the Thyrsus, Norman Osborn is planning something dire for the city of Manhattan. Return the artifact to Olympus and ruin his—and by extension—Luke's plans.

[Hidden Objectives]:

- Convince Jason to switch sides! [X]

- Defeat Prometheus! [X]

- Kill Jason! [ ]

- Find Luke's secret agent! [ ]

- Get bitten by the genetically engineered spider! [ ]

[Total Rewards Earned]:

- [+][200,000][EXP]!

- [+10][AP]!

- {Poseidon's Heir} skill pack containing [Hurricane Generation], [Earthquake Generation], and [Storm Generation]!

- [+][Perk][Mediator]

— - —

— - —

{Perseus Jackson}

[Son of Poseidon]

[Hestia's Favored]

[Echidna's Bane]

[Always Sunny]

[Godhunter]

[Hera's Blessing]

[Divine Consultant]

[Unyielding Resolve]

[The Ghoul of Atlantis]

[Mediator]

[LVL]: 53 [19,900/41,000]

[HP]: 30,000/30,000 [Resting][Active = 2x]

[SP]: 35,000/35,000

[MP]: 17,250/17,250 [Resting][Active = 2x]

[FEALTY]: N/A

[STR]: 48 [+35]

[VIT]: 29

[DEX]: 59 [+20]

[INT]: 44

[CHA]: 30 [+5]

[WIS]: 25

[LUC]: 23

[AP]: 80

[PP]: 12

[$]: 1265USD, 53D

[Info]: Son of the legendary lord of all seas, Poseidon, and Sally Jackson, Percy is the current [Child of Prophecy] and bearer of Olympus' flame. Despite his murky past, Percy is ready to take on his future with determination.

{Titles}

[Son of Poseidon]

- Permanently grants [+][1000][MP] and increases [Mana Regeneration] rate by [1%] per five seconds.

[Hestia's Favored]

- Permanently grants [+][750][HP] and [+][750][MP].

[Echidna's Bane]

- Grants immunity to all poison-based status effects and toxins, and reduces incoming damage from monstrous creatures by [10%].

[Always Sunny]

- This title makes your natural charisma shine even brighter, making you a beacon of positivity and influence and boosting your [CHA] by [2] every level-up.

[Godhunter]

- Grants [+][20%] damage to divine or godly beings (including minor gods and divine constructs). Increases critical hit chance against godly enemies by [+][10%].

[Hera's Blessing]

- Boosts your [Mana Manipulation] skill to [15] and unlocks techniques, allowing you to shape mana into intricate forms, such as shields, weapons, or traps.

[Divine Consultant]

- [2x] all [EXP] given on quests that originate from a diving being.

[Unyielding Resolve]

- Your threshold for suffering surpasses normal limits, enabling them to keep fighting (or enduring) when most would collapse. This title grants a significant reduction to pain impact, allowing you to remain calm and focused even under severe physical or emotional stress.

[The Ghoul of Atlantis]

- Your eerie bond with Atlantis's latent power allows you to harness mana in ways most demigods (or mortals) would shy away from, augmenting both your stealth and your resilience and granting you two skills: [Natural Mana Infusion] and [Miasma of the Deep].

[Mediator]

- Allows you to determine what form a god will take while speaking to you. Provides a flat boost of [+][10] to [CHA] and [WIS]!

— - —

[Original Author's Note]

AN: And there ends the brief interlude of the Spider-Man arc. After doing some thinking and talking to JackBlaze- my man- I've decided to restructure the story.

There will be brief, but very minor Marvel elements mixed in, but they will be few and far in-between, and they will all serve a purpose, just like Peter and MJ and the Wildcats did. They won't detract from the story, nor will they be a major part of the plot.

Rather, I'm going to focus on building and expanding the world I've already created. Atlantis was a great example of that, so if you liked Atlantis and want to see more, rest assured, that's where this story is going.

Rick did a great job of creating the base world of PJO, but given the fact that it is a children's book, there were certain elements he wasn't really too deep into, certain things he didn't tackle. He was also limited by the publishers, a schedule- all of that. I'm not.

I plan to dive into some of the treasure troves he left untapped. What does that mean? Well, that would be telling, wouldn't it?

Just know I have a plan. That's all.

We're almost at half a million views. That's huge. I can't thank you enough and just know I'll keep cranking out these quality chapters for y'all.

Thank you.

-Maroon

[Patch Notes]

[01/25/25]: Changed the quest payout and updated Percy's stats to be more reflective. I also changed the right to more specifically show that Percy was both more powerful than Jason and also let him live on purpose when he could have killed him, this wasn't clear in the original and there's no logical way that Percy would've lost with the Thrysus and the Hudson on his side.