I touched the bandages, my torso was wrapped in three layers of gauze. The wound stinged a little but I think that should go away by tomorrow; if my master is still supplying me with mana. Or maybe I should just take a bath, the water would heal me. It's strange, though I had the authority of a god I never had that power in my previous life. Maybe it's a side effect of my weird summoning? I still don't have complete knowledge of my noble phantasms, maybe that's it?

My mom was screaming when I arrived home, maybe I should have taken Rachel's offer for another set of clothes. It took almost an hour for her to calm down, by the end she was crying. I'm a terrible son, I should have known this would happen. I thought she'd relapse when I told her, her eyes looked like they stared in the abyss. I asked her what's wrong but she just gave me a kind smile. It's the same smile I see when I was expelled from school or when something else goes wrong. She kisses me on the forehead and told me everything will be alright.

It's a good thing smelly Gabe wasn't here, no doubt he would call the police considering I look straight out of a horror movie. Even if all the blood was mine, I knew he would only assume the worst from me. Lucky mom was prepared and stashed a lot of medical equipment for this very occasion, which…. I know is weird, I never took her for a doomsday prepper. She hid the stuff in the walls, a secret from Gabe of course.

After all the bandages and rubbing alcohol I lay on my mattress staring at the ceiling. In my pajamas, allowing the [Divine Water] to cleanse me of all that blood. My room was bare and decrepit, when I was in Yancy Gabe used it as his personal office, whatever that means. All the furniture's gone so there's nothing but a mattress, all my clothes are still in my suitcase, I find that more agreeable than that dirty closet. I did nothing but think about the war, my life, and what to do next. I always knew I would leave mom, but I always put those thoughts in the back of my mind. I didn't want to leave her with Gabe, or leave her in general, she is my only family. But I have no idea how the other servants will respond, if they knew she's my mom then it would only put her in danger. The beach proved that.

Then there's Caster. According to Rachel, he's gathering an army. And if he's kidnapping people his morals must be in the deep end. I can't risk him finding mom. He's a magi, and all magi are dangerous, especially if they're servants.

And let's be honest, I'm a trouble magnet, it's been that way for as long as I could remember. With all these monsters I've been fighting, I don't want to get mom in the crossfire.

I have no choice, I have to leave. But how am I going to tell her?

I heard a noise in the kitchen. My mom's talking to someone, someone I don't know, the walls are distorting the voice. I stood up, my room was covered in darkness, the only light came from the window, a setting sun. How long have I been thinking?

The floor was cold on my feet, I readied my sword, it came in a flash of green light. I could feel a breeze enter my room, it filled me with nostalgia. I have to do this fast, I grip the doorknob. Faster than thought I ripped it open, jumping on the walls. The wind was with me, I flew across the hallway and into the living room. The gust knocked over tables, photos were lifted off the walls, paper flew everywhere, my mom's fine china shattered on the ground. My blade was on the neck of my visitor. She was pale, eyes as wide as dishes, sweat dripped down her nose. She was sitting at the dining table, her teacup shaking in her hands. The tea itself was flown from her cup, splashing on the wooden surface.

"I-ah. See-you-your prepared Saber." She mumbled.

I finally recognized her, the red hair was unmistakable. Instead of that purple outfit she was wearing normal street clothes, a yellow t-shirt with a music note and blue jeans. She still wore that green handkerchief with an amethyst gemstone. That fear on her face was the most emotion I saw from her all day.

"Your-"

"Percy!" My mom dropped her plate. I looked towards her, my sword centimeters towards Rachel's neck, this looks pretty bad.

"I-um, thought she was a brigand?" I awkwardly smile.

I'm wiping tea off the floor, my rag smelled like chamomile. Next I have to pick up the photos and broom the whole living room. I grumbled, my mom and Rachel are sipping tea at the dining table.

"Is he always this aggressive Mrs. Jackson?" Her voice emotionless, casually sipping.

"No, my Percy may be a bit clumsy, but he's never been this protective," my mom replies, trying to brush it off with a laugh.

"If it's too much trouble, I can leave," Rachel offers.

"No, no, stay. You're not a bother. Right, Percy?" My mom says, and I grunt in response. This is humiliating, I feel like a servant…. You know what I mean.

"Thank you Mrs. Jackson. I promise I won't be a burden."

"Not at all. It's been ages since Percy had a friend over. Especially a girl," my mom comments. "Honestly, he could be so hopeless sometimes."

"Hey!" I said beneath the table.

My mom has an infectious energy, she's enjoying every minute of this.

"Mrs. Jackson, your son and I have entered into a relationship," Rachel announces casually, like it's just another sip of tea. The shock made me stand, only to bang my head on the table. I may be a servant but that still hurts.

"Oh my…." My mom gasps, clearly caught off guard.

"It's not what you think!" I scream, rubbing the back of my head.

"Indeed, he's under my employment." She sipped her tea, her voice as emotionless as ever.

"Percy. Your own boss…" My mom's voice was lace with disappointment.

Am I missing something here!? What's going on!?

"He and I had an accord today. We plan on leaving together."

"You're doing this on purpose!?" I said under the table.

"Percy, how could you!" Her voice was a mix of playfulness and anger.

"No! No!" I scrambled to get up, grasping the table for support. "Mom, wait! This is all a huge misunderstanding-" As I looked at their faces, it finally dawned on me. My mom was giggling while Rachel was smiling.

"You're right, Mrs. Jackson. He is hopeless," Rachel quipped, taking another sip of her tea.

"Just like his father." She cradles her cheek, slowly shaking her head.

"You….You…" I pointed at Rachel, she's still drinking her tea like nothing happened. "Why are you here?" I sounded exhausted.

"It should be rather obvious." She sips. "I was wondering when you planned on leaving."

My mom turned towards her. "Wait?... That was real!?" Her voice jumped in volume.

"No!" I screamed. "Well… Except for the leaving part." My eyes moved anywhere but my mom. I know her eyes are giving me that look, like when she talked about dad, a misty eye that always made me feel guilty.

"Percy… What's going on?" She spoke in the same tone I heard at Montauk.

"Mom, you're in danger. Or, I'm the danger. Something real bad is going to happen. Some really bad people are coming after me."

I finally gathered the courage to look her in the eye, there was fear there, but also strength. She shakes her head, looking at her tea. "I always knew this would come eventually." She said somberly. "I just didn't think it would come now."

"Mom…"

"Percy, you're very special. Not just because you're my son. There are roads you take that I can't follow. But I was always content just being there for you. Now that it's finally here…." She massaged her forehead, giving me a sad smile; the same smile everytime she looks at the sea, or when she talks about dad.

"I'm sorry. I… I don't think I can protect you if I stayed." I whispered.

She giggled. "Percy, I'm not some fragile flower, I can handle myself just fine. It's just….. I worry you know."

"Well don't, I'm strong mom. Stronger than ever. I don't need protection, I could take the whole world by myself. "

"No man's an island, Percy," she replied softly, her gaze flickering towards Rachel, who remained composed, quietly sipping her tea. "I know you're strong. It's one of the reasons why they said I should stay away from you. They told me it was safer if I never interacted with your world, but I'm very stubborn. I still am, even after all these years." It was intriguing. I always knew my mom had some knowledge of the magical world, but the story she's telling now suggests she might be more deeply involved than I thought.

"Who did?"

"Your father's friends."

She gaze longingly out the window, the setting sun paints the room in hues of autumn. "They were right, but I couldn't bear to let you go. You're my son, and I could never abandon you. So I kept you as close to me as possible, regardless of the risks. I didn't care if I got hurt. I would endure any suffering in the world if it meant you would be with me." The way she said that touched my heart, the love in her voice, I haven't felt this way since…..

"You don't have to anymore mom. I'll make sure of it."

My wish, I know what it is now.

I walked to her, holding her hand like before, I got to my knees.

"I swear, to all the kami above, to the heavens, the sea, your river of Styx, on my name, you'll—" She interrupts me, pressing her finger to my lips, shutting me up.

"You really are hopeless," she sighs. "No, Percy. Never make a promise to a girl that you can't keep."

But I…..

"And never hand out oaths lightly, or they won't be special."

But you are special.

She withdrew her hand from mine and took a sip of her tea. She looked so composed, as if nothing could touch her. It reminded me of Montauk; never knew mom could be so strong. She must be, considering she lived with Gabe for years and still never lost that strength. How come it took only now for me to see it?

"Have a great trip. But remember, you will come back. And when you do, I'll have something blue waiting for you," my mom said, her smile glowing in the fading light of the sun, casting her in a golden halo. We both fell silent, and I didn't need to respond; she already knew my answer.

Alright.

I turned towards Rachel, meeting her emerald green eyes, tinged with a hint of purple.

"Tomorrow at first light," I reminded her.

She nodded.

"And where are you off to?" My mom asked, a spark of excitement in her voice.

"Camp Half-Blood," I replied. My mom's grip tightened on her tea, a drop spilling from her cup. It took a moment for her to compose herself. Maybe she's heard of it, probably from Grover.

"Fate sure is funny," she remarked, taking a sip of her tea.

"Indeed," Rachel agreed, rising from her seat to place her empty cup on the table. "Don't worry about that waste of DNA. I'll have it taken care of." With that said, she headed towards the door.

Waste of… Oh, she means Gabe.

My mom tilted her head slightly.

"Don't worry, Mrs. Jackson, it isn't anything painful. Maybe psychological," Rachel whispered the last part.

"Take care of my son for me," my mom replied with a wave goodbye.

"Mom!"

Rachel chuckled before closing the door behind her. With her leave, the tension in the apartment disappeared and I could finally breathe normally.

"She seems nice. Percy, you should have more friends like her," my mom remarked.

"Right…" I muttered somberly, realizing I had an apartment to clean. My mom shot me a look that screamed 'you better get started'. I sighed, spotting a bit of tea on the floor. As I crouched down to mop up the mess, I caught sight of a tiny spider darting under the table. After the floor was spotless, I stood up and embarked on a search for a newspaper to safely release it outside.

I could hear them arguing through the walls; my dad was practically screaming. I wouldn't call uncle Amos house a mansion; it's more like a museum that someone lives in. But I expected the walls to be made of sturdier stuff, but apparently that's not enough to stop my dad's voice. Or maybe my dad's just that loud. Though his voice sounds muffled, I could still hear it a floor up. He must be really angry; he has never raised his voice this loud before. Then again, I should have seen the signs: our prompt departure from Paris, our brief stop at grandpa Faust's place, and the silent trip to New York. Man, that scared me; dad was completely blank the entire trip. After receiving a call, dad rushed us to London. I was in the car when it happened; dad went into the Faust house, then a minute later, he returned completely silent. We drove straight to the airport; I had no idea where we were going. He never answered my questions or even looked at me. He didn't even speak until we reached uncle Amos' mansion.

"Go upstairs," he said to me in a cold voice. His eyes terrified me; it was like looking into a black hole. Then uncle Amos showed me to my room, and that was it.

I have no idea what was going on. While thinking about it my door creaked open. The shouting became more clearer before it shut close again. What came in was a monkey, I jumped on my bed. I've seen monkey's before but they're usually at the zoo or the forest. This one was wearing a sleeveless t-shirt, it was purple with the number thirteen dead center.

"Who are-"

The monkey shushes me, a finger on its lips.

What?

Then it performed what I think, charades? It acted like a stiff angry board stomping on the floor then switched to silent yelling, its mouth was so wide I could see all its teeth. Then the beast changed to him covering his ears trembling on the floor. I think I kind of get it?

My dad's yelling was so loud he hid in my room. But that too raises a lot of questions. Why this room, when there's so many others?

"Hey um…"

The monkey pointed to the words on its t-shirt.

"Khufu?"

It gave me a thumbs up while smiling, it looked a little creepy.

"Um. Do you know why my dad is so angry?"

The monkey closed its eyes and shook its head wildly.

"So you don't know either huh."

It should surprise me that uncle Amos has a super smart monkey but the stress of today made me all numb inside. Honestly I couldn't care anymore, nothing can surprise me now.

"Do you think it's anything I did?"

The monkey pouted it's lips while shrugging its shoulders.

Is that a maybe?

My dad always told me to pursue the truth, even when it's hard. He told me that curiosity is a hallmark of human nature, it isn't bad, it's one of the reasons why he's so successful. All those trips around the world, meeting all those people, seeing new places. It was exciting, yet, sometimes I envy what Sadie has.

Still, life is full of mysteries, and this is another one. I won't find out just sitting here, besides he owes me an explanation.

"I'm going down there." I said to the monkey.

The ape freezes in place dramatically, for an animal he is surprisingly very emote. I wonder how uncle Amos trained him?

As I moved the monkey constantly waved his hands, warning me to stop.

"It's fine." I waved him off. "Dad may be angry but there's no way he would hurt me." Maybe yell at me, but that's about it; probably be grounded for a week.

The monkey still didn't stop, trying to pull my hand as I held the door knob.

"It's fine, silly monkey." I walked into the halls, the scream echoing. I still can't understand it. Maybe if I come closer? The monkey awkwardly leaves the room and follows by my side. I pressed my finger to my lip, and the monkey nodded. I don't want to surprise Dad. I found out long ago that he says the most interesting things when he knows I'm not listening.

As we walk down the stairs the yelling gets louder and louder until it starts to sound like language. A lot of garble and slurs, wow, I couldn't imagine my dad ever saying those words.

"Julius, please calm yourself!"

Smash* It sounds like a vase shattered.

"Three weeks!" My dad screamed. "Missing for three weeks! And they didn't tell me!"

"Not the china!"

Smash*

He's throwing things? Wow, he only got this mad when I accidentally broke that picture-frame of mom. This must be serious.

Uncle Amos's mansion is weird. It's not just the Egyptian decor; the layout resembles more of a community center than a home. My dad and uncle were on the first floor, a vast space adorned with a plasma-screen TV, a fireplace, plush couches, and ornate statues. The ceiling soars four stories high, with balconies encircling each level. I find myself hidden beneath the balcony's railings, I want to look down but don't want to risk my dad finding out. For now, I'm content to listen.

"Julius stop!"

A struggle, grunts and slurs. I think they're fighting? I hear things being knocked down, another vase is broken.

"Let me go!"

"Not until you calm yourself."

"No!"

"Julius!"

I hear more fighting then it stopped, tensions are dying down, the screams silent. Is dad not mad anymore?

"Get your hands off me," my dad says in his quietly angry voice—the tone he adopts for snide remarks or when he wants to be passive-aggressive. I hear a shuffle; I think Uncle Amos let him go. I'm tempted to look over, but Khufu presses on my shoulders, shaking his head.

Alright. I nodded in response.

"Julius, your blood pressure-"

"Don't tell me to calm down. You know why I'm mad." My dad's voice is full of spit-fire.

"Julius, raging won't help anyone. Neither is destroying the furniture." My uncle's voice was calm and collected yet I also heard a bit of frustration. That could be just me though, I haven't seen him in a year.

"Then what will!?" He screams. "Aren't you the third ?! How can you not find her!?" I think I heard him shove my uncle.

"I'm sorry Julius, it's beyond me." My uncle's voice sounded defeated.

I heard my dad scoff before stomping away. I was afraid he would go up the stairs but then he just stopped. I had no idea what he was doing, a long silence passed. I was about to leave before the talking started again.

"I don't care anymore, Amos, its time…."

"Julius please! Never that! There's still something we could do."

"What?..." My uncle was silent. " Well… Tell me!" My dad growled.

"I still have friends in the house . They can help."

I didn't know what was happening but I could recognize the atmosphere, my uncle touched on something that should never be said. There's certain things that could set off my dad, trigger phrases that would cause him to erupt; I learned that the hard way. He was already mad before and now, I don't even want to think about it. I wonder how red his face is?

"How dare you. You expect me to go back there! To go on my knees and beg!" That scream was so loud Khufu covered his ears in pain. I think I saw the chandeliers tremble and the lights flicker.

"Swallow your pride Juilius."

"Swallow my…. You know what they did! They exiled me! A just punishment they said!"

"Julius listen-"

"No you listen! It's their fault! If they only listened to her then maybe, none of this would have happened and she wouldn't have died!" That came out as a sob.

What!?

I never heard my dad so emotional, he sounded on the verge of breaking. His voice was both anger and grief. All my life he has always been stone, strong, collected, sometimes I doubted he had a heart; and a sense of humor. What on earth could make such a man break down like this?

"Julius…"

"You could tell those Per Ankh bastards to go to hell! I wouldn't turn to them for all the riches in the world, for all the power, the knowledge! Never! I'll never entertain the thought! Not even for... for... for..." My dad went silent again. The crescendo peaked and is now tumbling down. "No. You're right. If it's the only option... I can't bear to lose her, Amos. Not her, not my little girl." It was a whiplash, from hysterical anger to defeat.

Huh!?

"Julius, we will find her."

"You don't know that."

"But I can hope."

"Hope." He scoffed.

They were all silent again, after a minute I gestured to Khufu. My fingers pointed upwards, I wanted him to check if the coast was clear. It took a few tries for the monkey to get it, he etched over the railings scanning the room.

"Is it clear?" I whisper.

The monkey gave me a thumbs up and I carefully rose above the railings. The first floor was a mess, the T.V was cracked, shards littered the floor, tables flipped over, one of the couches was burned and the statue was toppled over. My uncle was a tall man, he almost overshadowed my dad. He's dressed in a gray trench coat and hat, dreadlocks and holding a golden cane. Comforting my dad, rubbing his back while he was crouching over on the couch. My dad had his head in his hands, refusing to look.

"It's going to be alright." Uncle said.

My dad is still in his business suit, he hasn't changed the entire trip. I don't think he even slept. His beard is starting to grow and dark lines are appearing under his eyes; this is different from the dad I knew, he's always the first to correct appearances, usually mine. He prides himself in being the most leveled headed in the room. Now, that illusion is breaking.

"It's not that, if they do find her. Then…. Amos, they might kill her."

Kill!? Who's he talking about?

"It won't come to that. I won't let it."

"She is the blood of two dynasties, the blood of the pharaohs. A prime vessel for the gods. They would never allow her to live."

My uncle's mouth shut, I didn't know what they were talking about but it sounded too real to be role play. That look on dad's face says it all, it was dread and hopelessness.

"They won't-"

Dad stood up, I hid back under the railings. It was only Khufu's urging that I slowly got up, I peeked above the railings and saw my dad facing backwards. He was looking through the windows, a clear view of Manhattan, lightning flashed on the empire state building.

"We all witnessed the sunrise in the Duat. A god walks among us, the most powerful of them all... She is the prime candidate to host him."

Uncle Amos steeled himself, he gripped his cane.

"It's the only reason I can see," Dad murmured, reaching into his pocket and withdrawing an amulet. He dangled it before his face. I recognized it instantly—an angelic figure, a match to mine. I gripped my amulet, it dangled over my chest. That means that the person they're talking about is…

She's missing?

"It could mean anything Julius."

Dad laughed hollowly. "The house won't. We see the sun and my daughter goes missing. Is that a coincidence?" He paused, his expression tense. "I reached out to whatever channels I have left. The house has mobilized—everyone is on high alert." He glanced toward my uncle. "Tell me they won't connect the dots."

My uncle said nothing.

"See... Now you understand my worries."

"But if that's true, Julius, how could we possibly fight a god?"

"They've been dealt with before. I just need to find the means. Amos, I need your help. There are paths I walk that must not be tread alone. I understand your reservations, but please, help me."

My dad's gaze bore into him before my uncle sighed. "I've walked with you through hell before, how is this any different?"

My dad returned the look, finally smiling. Then his expression shifted as he glanced up, our eyes met. He frowned once more.

Ugh…..

I eased down the railings until I settled on the ground, footsteps approaching. Another round of grounding or, worse, a lecture awaited me, I presumed. Khufu simply stared, as though I were the most captivating thing in the world.

"Huh? What are you looking-" He plucked something off my hair. It wiggled in his fingers, looks like a spider? Then, without hesitation, he ate it.

I tighten my grip on the bow, pulling the string back even farther. Closing my right eye for better aim, I focus. This is the moment, I'm finally going to nail it. With a click of my tongue, I release the arrow, watching it soar like a bullet. It whistles through the air, my heart racing as it finds its mark. Yet I'm disappointed; the arrow is only a few centimeters from the bullseye.

"Ha. Ha. Ha." I let out a frustrated huff, sweat beading on my brow.

"Hmmmm. Good shot," Dakota mumbles between mouthfuls of potato chips, lazily reaching for another handful.

"Ha. You know... Ha… You could join the training too?" I suggest.

Dakota pauses, slowly bringing the chip to his mouth. I sigh, feeling the weight of my exhaustion. I love the guy, but sometimes he can be such a lazy slob. Glaring at him, I see him roll his eyes in response.

"What?" he asks innocently, crumbs falling from his lips.

"Ha. Nothing." I sheath my bow, my arms aching. Maybe I'm pushing myself too hard. For the past week, I've been driving myself ragged, trying to give everything at least a hundred and ten percent. Whether it's physical training with weapons or mental exercises with strategies and history—I have to. Everyone's looking to me now. To prove my point, Dakota watches me like I'm some sort of animal; he's been following me like an aide. And sure, sometimes his input is helpful, but I can't help feeling a bit of anger. He's supposed to be in these shoes, not me.

"It wouldn't matter anyway," Dakota says with his mouth full. "I'll never be able to inspire them like you do, Marcus. I mean, look at me." He gestures to his body.

"You're not that fat."

"Who said I was fat? I mean my noodle arms." He tries to do the wave, but it comes out like blocky triangles. I chuckle before wiping my face with a towel. It feels like the weight has lifted a little from my chest. A bit of comedy can go a long way; for a while, all I saw were dark skies. It hasn't been the same since Jason disappeared.

We walked out of the showers, towels draped over our necks. Everyone wore purple Camp Jupiter shirts and shorts. Dakota was to my right, his hair still damp. As we made our way back to the barracks, I couldn't ignore the snickers and whispers around us. People pointed and laughed, but it all ceased when I turned my head. I knew what they were saying, and the thought made my skin crawl.

'I can't believe it took this long.' 'What a bunch of losers, no wonder why he left.' 'They said he deserted.' 'I bet he ran away.' 'A bunch of disgrace.' "He was right to leave.' 'Bet they're cursed.' 'Wouldn't that make him a traitor?'

That was the last straw. I clenched my fist, ready to fight them, but Dakota put his hand on my shoulder. He shook his head, silently conveying, 'It's not worth it.' He was right. I could only swallow my rage and march forward. I don't care what they said about me, but Jason was off-limits. We were all shocked when we found out he was missing. The entire camp searched for days, and even when they gave up, the Fifth Cohort didn't. We scoured every inch of camp and traced the border. Jason would never leave; he was the best of us, our centurion—he would never abandon us.

"Hey, don't let those guys get to you," Dakota paced beside me, huffing with each step.

"How could you just let them say that! You know—"

"And what, fight them? What would that prove?"

He's right, but I was just too angry.

"Aren't you our centurion now!? Why aren't you doing anything!" I screamed at him, Dakota only narrowed his eyes.

"I just did, I saved you from getting your butt kicked. Now get back to the barracks you're causing a scene." He said through clenched teeth. I glanced around, realizing we were drawing attention.

"Is that an order, Centurion?" My tone turned cold.

"No, as your friend." The way he said it made me feel guilty. But I couldn't let this go.

"Fine."

We walked back to the barracks in silence, the tension thick and suffocating. I didn't usually explode like that, but the stress from the past few weeks had finally boiled over. Before Jason, I was just another face in the crowd, following orders without question. Some saw it as the mark of a perfect soldier, and I thought so too, until Jason came along. Despite being the son of Jupiter, he treated me no differently than anyone else, even though I was an unclaimed under probatio. He lifted up the entire Cohort, a band of misfit nobodies. Slowly but surely, he raised our ranks, bestowing honor upon us. He was a mentor, a warrior, a strategist, but above all, a friend. He trained with us, fought with us, and was there when I was promoted to legionnaire. Despite his lineage, he cared little for rules or politics. He made us feel valued, strong, and intelligent. When he was promoted to centurion, we all cheered, knowing we would thrive forever under him. Now…..

As I pushed open the door, a wave of dread washed over us; the entire cabin lay empty.

"They must still be searching," Dakota muttered, dropping his towel into a basket.

"You'd think they'd have given up by now. Such tenacity, such loyalty. This is what the Fifth Cohort should be." An old voice echoed from behind us, a voice I'd recognize anywhere. It belonged to an old man in a toga, with a big belly and a white beard. He could have passed for Santa Claus if he weren't so short. But he wasn't just an old man; he glowed purple and was somewhat see-through. He was a Lar, the guardian house spirit of the Fifth.

"Vitellius, how's it hanging?" Dakota greeted him with a smile, but the old man only snorted.

"Walking away from your responsibilities, I see? Back in my day, the Fifth was the—"

"I know, I know. The bestest in the legion," Dakota waved him off as he headed to his bunk.

The ghost crossed his arms and turned to me. "What?" I asked.

"You know, I never did approve of this plan of yours," he stated.

"It wasn't my plan. It was Dakota's," I pointed out, and Dakota waved in confirmation.

"Still, it's the Centurion's job to lead the Cohort. And as a senior member, you should hold that responsibility," he continued, glaring at Dakota.

The chubby boy shrugged. "Come on, old man, look at me. Do I even look that inspiring? Besides, we all know I could never make it as a leader. That's why I put Marcus in charge."

The spirit shook his head. "You don't know how disappointed I am to hear you say that. You didn't even try, and now you're leaving it all to your second in command. I had such high hopes for you." The disappointment slurred from his lips, and Dakota sank back onto his bunk.

"Yeah, I know," he sighed.

The ghost groans. "How is the search going? Did they find anything?" He says full of concern.

"No. The same as yesterday, not a whiff or a scent. Not even Lupa could find anything and Terminus is just as helpful as a statue." I spat out still holding the rage.

"Do not use the gods' names in anger child. It could lead to nasty consequences." The ghost drone on. "Though I am a bit surprised, lord Terminus and lady Lupa should know all that happens within Rome. This is their domain after all. Unless they're keeping secrets from us, in that case you shouldn't interfere with the gods."

"Fine, it's not like they'll help anyway. The gods are a bunch of-"

"What did I just say child!" The ghost spoke up before I could say something stupid. He might have just saved my life but I still feel angry.

"Yeah he's right. If the gods won't help us then we gotta do it ourselves. Or maybe that's what they want. So let's go over the clues again." Dakota got up from his bunk and walked to the center. We put a wipe board in the middle of the cabin to place all the clue's the Fifth has gathered. So far it was a bunch of nonsense words, question marks, strings that lead to nowhere and oddly a photo of Elvis Presley.

"So we know he disappeared two weeks ago, on a Saturday. The last person to see him was Gwen. She said he was going to train in the coliseum. After that nothing. He even left his sword behind." Dakota rubbed his chin. "All his stuff is still in the cabin, no one reported anything missing, the guard station at New Rome said he never even left."

"So maybe he's hiding in New Rome?" The ghost says, walking through the wipe board, his head visible on the other side.

"For this long? Not likely, we would have heard something by now. No, I have a theory, I think he was kidnapped..." Dakota says with all seriousness but that would be impossible. That would mean a monster somehow entered New Rome without the gods knowledge or someone in camp is a traitor.

"Or he died." The spirit says, and I glare at him. Dakota shook his head. That is something none of us want to think about. He can't be dead, surely we would all know it, people like Jason don't go quietly. At least I pray.

"Yes…. There is that. But I refuse to believe it. He was the best of us, he could take down twenty monsters with his hands tied to his back." Dakota smiles and I agree.

"It's comforting to see such loyalty towards your missing comrade, maybe all isn't lost." The ghost vanishes leaving us both alone. We both stood there, staring at the evidence—or rather, the lack of it—trying to comprehend what had happened that day. Alongside the absence of evidence, we also marked the locations we had searched. It had been harrowing work; we left no stone unturned. The Field of Mars alone took us a week. We practically upended seventy-five percent of the camp. All that's left is Temple Hill.

"There is another possibility…" Dakota said grimly, it took me a second to comprehend then my eyes darken.

"No." I wanted to scream.

"I don't think he did it willingly. Maybe someone forced him to."

I tried to calm myself, finding it hard to believe anyone could force Jason—especially to leave camp. This was his home; he loved this place, the Cohort, everyone. It was the only home he had ever known. But then another thought entered my mind: maybe he did it for us. I could see that happening; Jason was a hero, he would do anything for his friends. There's no way he would willingly leave, there's no way he would abandon us.

"Maybe it's the gods," I whispered, and Dakota's eyes widened in horror.

"Marcus, as your Centurion, I order you to never entertain those thoughts. You hear me!" His voice was commanding, each word heavy with the weight of unspoken dread; yet I could hear the unspoken words: 'I won't lose you too'. To speak against the gods would mean a traitor's punishment—always death. But the idea lingered in my mind like a dark shadow.

"Yes sir." I solemnly swear but the fear never left his eyes.

Dakota touched the bridge of his nose, he has never looked older than he does now. Like a true Centurion. Eventually he shakes his head putting his hands on his hips.

"We may need to ask the Augur again."

Octavian, the least helpful person in the world and a giant jerk. He always speaks to us in this condescending tone, a deep disgust masked with politeness. He's always talking in circles, spewing a bunch of fortune cookie nonsense. But it got even worse; now he has this new incense that is so strong I have to force myself from gagging. It smells like roses in a graveyard. He wears it like cologne; I can smell him a block away.

"Why, he's just going to say the same thing?"

Dakota smirks, a familiar grin spreading across his face—the same one he wears when he's about to crack a joke.

" 'He'll come when he comes,' " Dakota mimicked, his impression of Octavian spot on.

I giggled a bit.

"Whatever that means. Still, maybe he could surprise us with something new today. We were tasked with escorting his animal friends, now they really need protection," he says sarcastically, the mood lightening.

"What would the all mighty Augur do without his teddy bear." I said.

"Obviously he's going to scream his lungs off because he doesn't have the complete Winnie the Pooh set."

I remember that day vividly. He claimed the gods demanded sacrifice, specifically the original Disney collection. He thought we didn't see him playing with them behind the Senate. I can still picture the look on his face when he discovered a tear. 'The gods demand justice,' he declared, his face turning a deep shade of red. This is our Augur.

I couldn't help but let out a laugh.

"Remember the time he tried to sacrifice an entire Chinese dragon parade? He forced the First Cohort to spend weeks learning the dragon dance," Dakota blurted.

"That was so stupid."

"And all it did was predict whether it would be cloudy tomorrow."

"Remember the doomsday prophecy? He put the entire camp under red alert, only for it to turn out we simply ran out of salt."

"He didn't show his face for a week." Dakota laughed.

"What I wouldn't give for that…" I sighed, feeling overwhelmed by Octavian's omnipresence. He always seems to pop up out of nowhere, asking weird questions and giving vague riddles. He's much more active these days; I think I liked it better when he shut himself in the temple.

"Yeah, he's all like, 'the gods are watching us, I must know your social security number ', ' how many siblings do you have ', ' who is the strongest ', ' how many swords do we make ', ' who's feeding the elephant ', ' pay your taxes '," Dakota mimics Octavian's voice, his face twisting into a mocking expression.

"Yeah, he's turning into a real census taker."

" 'Hello, I am Octavian. I like to play with dolls and your income tax. I say stupid things and pass them off like I did something. Most trees are blue. The sky hides the moon. Oh, the king will come '."

"Yeah, that's it!"

"He's the worst Augur ever," Dakota declares, and then we both hear a creak behind us. We turn around to see Jacob. A long silence echoes between us.

"How much of that did you hear?" Dakota says robotically.

"I-Um…" Jacob's eyes dart sideways.

"You didn't see anything," Dakota waves his hands theatrically, like in that Star Wars movie. But it's okay since it's Jacob; if it were anyone else but the Fifth, we would be in serious hot water. The Augur is very high on the totem pole in camp. If he heard that, I'm pretty sure he would punish the entire Cohort with a month of tunnel duty on the graveyard shift. I shudder just thinking about it.

Jacob was in a heated argument with Dakota, updating him on the search—nothing yet again. You'd think we'd give up, but this is the Fifth. If there's one thing we excel at, it's tenacity. Jason taught us that. My eyes drift back to the board, where I cross off another section on the map.

A small black spider scuttles across. Strange. I could have sworn we cleaned the cabin yesterday; the Cohort will go to the dogs at this rate….. We need to find him—I don't care if it takes forever.

"Stay back!" The stinger lay on the boy's back, the fear in its voice. The arrogance of this thing; it came to me in the guise of a man, claiming it could kill me with a single sting. That didn't bother me; all yokai boast, and this creature was no different. But what truly made me mad was its cowardice. I crippled its arms, then it bailed its way to Nakamura-kun. This thing, I am going to enjoy crushing its spine.

"One move and the child dies," it hissed.

"I'll make your death slow, crush you while you scream like a proper wuss."

The yokai widened its mouth, a mix of a smile and grimace. I had to be fast, observing it, taking in all its tells for an opening. I masked my face in indifference to not give myself away.

"Do not lie, child. You may be strong but I-Ahh!" From the shadows, the cat jumped from the trees and clawed its face. I wasted no time, moving faster than the eye could see, punting the yokai to the ground, relieving Nakamura-kun's back from the scorpion tail. The yokai thrashed, trying to pull the cat off its face. I squeezed its torso, a single crunch that snapped bone and skin. It roared, no longer sounding like a man.

I embraced harder and snapped its spine. The beast roared in pain, transforming, no longer human. That made what I do easier. I moved to its neck, suffocating the yokai. Its scorpion tail struck my back, but its venom was pathetic compared to my own. I gripped harder; its body was now a lion, its fangs trying to go for my face. The cat from before sank its claws into its eyes. It thrashed, pulling us into a death roll. I never let go, closing my arm around its neck. It screamed, then it cried.

"Sta. Sta. Urrah!" It attempted to speak, but I couldn't be bothered; its words could bugger off for all I cared.

The cat jumped off its face, her job done; her eyes watched predatory for any slip.

"Pla. Wa-uraak!" With a strong flex I snapped its neck then all movement stopped. I dropped the beast on the ground, tiny motes of gold glitter off it's body. That's the thing with these creatures, they don't bleed blood. I first suspected them to be ghosts but sadly that wasn't the case. They were tangible, they eat, they hunt, they laugh, they bled; they even feared death. I observed them from the shadows, most had the minds of beasts while others were aware like this creature. I even encountered two of the same yokai, I killed it once before and when I fought it again I saw the familiarity in its eyes. So are these things immortal? If so, why do they fear death? Are they illusions? Who created them?

Its entire body dissolved into golden lights, when the last of the gold flickers all that was left was the forest floor, nothing remained except from signs of the battle. I touched my back, that yokai ripped through my shirt with its stingers.

I sighed. These were my last decent pair; the first was coated in soot that refused to budge, and the other was that garish orange camp shirt, practically a beacon in the dark forest—a colossal "look at me" sign. Hunting's going to be a right pain in the future.

The boy moaned on the ground, he wobbled as he rose.

"Go back to camp, Nakamura-kun," I said before turning away, the cat walking to my side. It looked at me with golden eyes. This was no ordinary neko; it had been with me since the beginning, following me across the ocean. I tried to chase it away, but it wouldn't relent. It was the cherished friend of this child, after all. I couldn't bear to see it hurt, but as it turns out, I didn't need to. It was more resourceful than I thought. It managed to survive alone while I was off at camp. It was the most nimble and smartest cat I had ever seen. It even managed to keep up with me during hunts or fighting yokai. I suspected it to be a phantasmal or at least half one. Not a Bakeneko, lacking the second tail, nor a Nekomata—it was too young. Yet, it possessed an otherworldly aura. Thus far, it has been harmless, exuding gentleness in its demeanor.

The cat purred against my leg, I pet it's yellow coat.

"Please. Take me with you." Nakamura-kun mumbled off handedly, wiping the dirt off his pants.

"Too dangerous." I ascended to the treetop, where my backpack lay atop the highest branch. Glancing skyward, I noted the encroaching darkness. Prior to the yokai's attack, I had been preparing to kindle a fire. Donning the letterman jacket I stole, emblazoned with the initials "Stoll" at the back, a bit big on me but it gets the job done.

I jumped down, the backpack held over my shoulders.

"It's getting late, I'm going to start the fire."

I dropped the bag to scour the area for firewood; if I fail, I'd resort to chopping down trees. The cat wandered closer, its eyes fixed on me. She was smarter than your average feline, adept at sensing the mood and adjusting her behavior accordingly. Despite my repeated reminders that I wasn't her owner, she remained relaxed in my presence. Perhaps, in her own way, she thinks the child is still alive. I liked to entertain that hope.

Nakamura-kun stays behind, looking longingly at my back. "I can handle it. I can fight."

"No." I broke off a branch, a pile was forming in my arms.

"Please. I can't go back there," he prayed, desperation seeping from his voice. For a moment, I entertained the notion; it reminded me of someone else. But as I glanced back at him, doubt washed over me. It would be a death sentence for the child. With only one eye, combat would be a struggle. Lacking muscle and strength, he was too young for this journey. Despite being half-kami, the boy lacked presence. Even his swordsmanship, though it showed promise, was too defensive. Too inexperienced, with a large blindspot. I cannot, in good conscience, allow him to accompany me. I won't fail another child.

"It's safer." The neko meows in response, agreeing with me.

"Its a prison. I… I'm not welcome there."

I think back to the camp, it was full of activities from weapons to the arts. I saw so many children smiling and playing, to me it was practically a paradise. The cat meows again, giving me that look.

Alright, I'll humor him.

"The children of the minor gods aren't honored in camp, they aren't even given a cabin."

"All I hear are the complaints from a pillock ." My voice was harsh, it caused him to flinch. "You're being a stupid git. So what if you're not given a cabin? It seems just fine to me." I stayed in Castellan-kun's cabin too, though a bit loud it wasn't that bad.

I managed to get enough, and didn't have to disfigure that many trees. I marched back to the clearing and ignited the pile with a snap of my fingers.

"You don't get it." He marched closer to the fire. "It's not just the cabin. "We are constantly being ignored, and Olympus doesn't care. If you aren't the child of the twelve you're an afterthought."

We both sat down by the fire, the neko sat next to my legs purring against my feet.

"I-We feel like second-class citizens. It isn't fair." A bit of frustration escapes his voice.

I reach in my backpack, my hands grab another jar of peanut butter. I think I'm getting an addiction, well at least it's better than rabbit meat. I gave food scraps from last night's fire to the cat. She sniffed it curiously before devouring it.

"We are never picked for quests and are always underestimated." He sat, his arms around his legs, sword on the ground.

"You know what I hear. A whiner. How does coming with me fix this? If you want things to change, do it yourself." I say offhandedly chewing a piece of beef jerky from my backpack.

His head turned to me, his eye looked offended. A conflict of emotions that range from hate to disappointment, hope, and frustration. His mouth was a wobbly frown, his fist trembled.

"You're just like them." He hissed. "Years in that stupid camp. You don't think I tried! They always wave me off, no matter how strong I get or how much I scream. The 'will of the gods' they said. While I'm being pushed to the side lines, I'm wasting away at that camp!"

I know that feeling too well, the desire to prove yourself. It has plagued me hundreds of times in my youth. Even now I could still feel father's eyes watching me, criticizing me; something I can never escape.

"It has nothing to do with that." I chewed another piece of jerky, dipping it in the peanut butter. "You're too young and inexperienced, if I wasn't here that yokai would have killed you." The cat meows in agreement.

The boy pouted his lips.

"Well you're younger than me! How can you know that!?"

An uncontrollable laughter escapes me. The cat looks at me like I'm deranged, maybe I am. I could feel the nostalgia, he tries to mimic Tsuna-kun, but in truth, he resembles Kintarou more.

"You're right, I'm just a little girl. I haven't a clue about this vast world. But if that were the case, why on earth would you be traipsing after me through the forest like a bloomin' fool?"

The boy furrowed his brow, his mouth opening and closing as if struggling to find the right words. All I hear is the crackling of the fire, the cat resting her head on my leg. I cuddle deeper into the letterman jacket, its warmth reminds me of better times. In fact this entire conversation is digging up memories.

"You're strong," his voice sliced through the silence, finally getting to the meat of it.

"I... I'm the son of Nemesis, the goddess of revenge." The child awaited my reaction, but I continued to stare into the flames. He looked dumbfounded, like he was expecting me to be afraid. The neko tilts her head before looking at the boy.

"But my mother is also the goddess of balance. Through her, I can sense the world's ebb and flow. The balance of the world, and it's shifting. It feels like something is building, like ascending a roller coaster; we stand in the beginning of a great change." The boy clenched his teeth, fear flickering in his eyes. "My mother told me only the most powerful beings can influence fate. And you are like a beacon to my senses."

Interesting. But that's not why you're really here.

I feigned ignorance, watching his reactions closely. His next move could shape my path forward.

"Blimey, we never spoke at camp. Did I rattle your cage that much?" I offered a sly smile, and the boy glanced towards the flames, avoiding my gaze.

"I was uncertain, until I saw you… You fought a god and won." His words shattered the silence, the crackling flames pausing momentarily. I knew someone else was watching, but at that time I thought it was the kami of these lands.

"And what if I did?" My question hung in the air, awaiting his response. The cat purrs each time I pet it.

"Can you teach me?" His voice sounded so sincere. "You're even younger than me, yet you achieve so much. Your swordsmanship, your power, your experience. I am rotting away at that camp. Please, teach me?" I felt a pang in my heart. How I longed to comfort the child, to hold him in my arms. Judging by his scars and desperation, he must have suffered. I couldn't allow that to continue, but I was also bound by my obligations. I needed to win this war.

"Surely the horse-bloke would be better than I?" I say with a bit of sarcasm.

"He's too busy. He doesn't have time for someone like me."

"And why should I?" My question lingered in the air, the child was silent, he couldn't even answer.

"Because…. " He bit his lip.

The boy could never be Kintarou, people like him only exist once a lifetime. Yet they did share some similarities, I see it in his eyes. A deep yearning, there was no wildness but it came from the same place, a desire to see more, to grow strong, to prove yourself to the world. He wanted a chance, but should I? To leave his cage would be to risk his life, I refused to put a child in danger, never again. But to live in a cage even if it's safe, isn't living at all. It will drive you mad, it did to me. I can't force him either, if I did he would come back over and over.

The cat meowed, her eyes looked deep into my soul. It reminded me of the sun, the warmth, the beauty. She was trying to tell me something? Maybe give the boy a chance? The cat closed her eyes and rested her head. I silently thanked her, I know what to do now.

"How about a game?" My words brought him out of his thoughts.

"What?"

"A test." I stood up, chewing the last of the jerky. The cat jumped off my leg.

"If you want me to train you, you have to reach the bare minimum. One hit, land at least one hit on me."

"Huh?"

"I don't care if you use a rock, an arrow, or a blade. If you want to fight you need to battle opponents faster than you can see. I don't want to keep saving your sorry arse."

Nakamura-kun's eyes narrowed, trying to see if this was a trick. I don't blame him, when I first met the boy he acted like a lost dog, following me around despite my constant efforts to discourage him. Even through all the danger, the yokai, the fear, he powered on; all by himself. This boy has the will, but does he have the strength? I don't doubt his determination, if the circumstances were different then sure; but I am being hounded by yokai everyday and I don't know if I can watch him every second. If he doesn't have the strength to do this task then the challenges ahead will kill him.

"So just one hit?" He answers unsurely.

"Yes," I affirmed. With that, the boy assumed a stance, picking up his sword, aiming at me. The cat walks away, observing the child.

He was wide open; I could anticipate his every move. As he began to advance, I sidestepped to the right. The boy leaped into the air and slashed downward, only realizing his mistake as gravity pulled him back down. I moved around him effortlessly, as if dancing, his sword swings missing their mark.

"I could see your feints a mile."

The boy only furrowed his brow, and attacked faster.

It was even easier now, his fury is blinding him. The boy made a wide sideward slash and all I had to do was duck. It was like reading a book, in battle you must master yourself before you can master your opponents. He screams as he thrust the sword forward, using my foot I kicked the flat side of the blade knocking it from his hands. He barely registers the blade's gone before grasping empty air.

"How?"

"You lack control."

The boy bit his lip.

"It's natural to feel anger, but it's how you channel it that defines you. Don't let it control you; use it to fuel your actions. That's the difference between man and beast."

"Says the girl named Berserker," he quips.

I let out a hearty laugh, it was so loud I wouldn't be surprised if it was heard a mile away.

"That's true I am the servant of madness, but even madness has its uses. I pray you will never know it."

The cat meows at his sword, head constantly beckoning me over. Is it that interesting?

I pointed my finger at his blade, small sparks of purple lightning move from my finger to its metal; the sword is flung to my hands. I studied the weapon, its metal was unknown to me, a deep bronze. This is no ordinary alloy, I could see the magic move up its tip. This was a weapon made to slay yokai.

But what caught my attention was the thing scurrying on it, I grabbed it. This is a familiar.

A spider…. How ironic.

I crushed the insect between my fingers, then threw the sword at him, the blade stabs harmlessly between us. "Try again."

Another one goes blind. I see through myriad angles, vistas, people, and stories. I exist in shadows and light, the visible and the hidden. I perceive much, yet I must remain concealed, inconspicuous, and insignificant. My moment has arrived; I extinguish all light. I can't afford any distractions; this is my most dangerous task yet. I scale the walls, choosing the smallest and most unassuming of my vessels. But even that won't suffice; I harness my skills. Through ninjutsu, I move with subtlety, no illusions, no magic, I can't risk it. This is the realm of the kami.

I slink through the hall, it was beautiful. Marble columns, artistry, and power. The artist within me yearns to linger, but I dare not. I skulk behind a column; at the center of the dome, a roaring fire, the hearth, beckons. I avert my gaze; my master's warning echoes in my mind. Instead, I fixate on the thrones and the kami who occupy them. I avoid their gaze; any contact could spell my doom. At any moment, I could be discovered. Within me lies a self-destruct spell, ready to erase all traces of my existence if necessary.

Only five occupy the thrones, each a work of art. The king who wields lightning, a man of the sun, the silver huntress, the counselor of war. They are giants, and this could work to my advantage; in their hubris, they would never acknowledge something as small as me. It is in the kami's nature to be prideful.

"I swear it wasn't me," the golden man said, his voice a melody.

The king huffed, disbelieving.

"Honest! Sis! You believe me, right!?" The kami turned to his sister, her face blank.

"Enough!" The king's voice crackled with lightning. "You know the consequences of lying. This is a clear violation of the ancient laws." His words command power; I hide further behind the column.

"I swear on the river of Styx. I, Apollo, son of the great, wonderful, forgiving, amazing, haiku-loving, bestest father in the world—"

"Stop brown-nosing," his sister snide.

"I didn't do it," he said flatly.

All the kami fell silent, waiting. When nothing happened, the sun-kami sighed in relief and reclined on his throne. "See, it wasn't me."

The king furrowed his brow. He grumbled before turning to the counselor, who gave him her sympathies.

"That's just great. So, no one's at fault. Ok. That still doesn't explain an entire forest burning down!" His screams echoed through the halls; the ceiling trembled with dust.

"Not me, pops. I take my job very seriously." He snapped his fingers and winked. "I follow a strict schedule and wake up extra early just to move the sun."

"No, you don't, you lazy bum. You have as much control of the sun as I do the moon." The female archer rolled her eyes.

"Hey, we're not supposed to talk about that!"

"Then stop brown-nosing."

"You know, I'm starting to hate that word."

"Then stop doing it."

"Children, silence!" Both became quiet. "This is serious. The ancient covenant is broken, right at our doorstep. And none of you found the culprit?" The king looked toward the twins, both squirming in their seats, refusing to meet his gaze.

"I may have a suggestion," the counselor interjected. She was beautiful, sculpted in the image of the wise. Just the thought of that, the component inside me wanted to rage, her very existence was compromising my systems. I struggled to take control.

The king nodded as if humoring her. "We could ask Poseidon; the crime was committed near the sea. Maybe he saw something? We could—"

"No." The king immediately shut her down. "We don't need his help."

"Father, please. He could have a lead."

"How do we know it wasn't him?" No one responded to the king; they looked at him incredulously. "It's possible; my brother has many friends."

"But none we know who can summon the sun. Helios has long faded, and Hyperion is in Tartarus. Father, in my experience, this is most likely a ploy to divide us further." The war-kami gave wise counsel; the king seemed to take her advice to heart. I managed to regain control, which almost broke my cover. I try my best to ignore the war-kami.

"If that's true, then who?" His question came out like a command. The counselor sighed before continuing.

"The one who stole your master bolt." At those words, all eyes turned to her.

The king stood from his throne, the very air shifting. A hurricane expelled from his movement; I had to dig deeper into the marble to avoid being swept away. His expression was a tornado, constantly moving. I couldn't tell if he was angry or surprised; you never could with the kami.

"If you know, daughter, then enlighten us." His voice echoed through the chamber, hollowing me out.

"It should be obvious." The kami didn't stutter, even when faced with such power. "The missing god." Her face was serene, the component inside me wanted to rip it off her.

The king's eyes glowed, lightning given form, the fury of the sky. "You dare accuse one of the Olympians? Your peers? Your own family!?" His voice was so strong I thought my vessel would tear if I were an inch closer.

"I'm merely following logic, father. We all searched for your weapon; when we couldn't find it, only Ares didn't return. Out of all of us, he is the most suspicious."

"And this has nothing to do with your rivalry?"

"I am merely giving you my honest opinion. As your tactician, it's my responsibility to assess all threats, within and without. I cannot let feelings dictate me when it comes to the safety of Olympus."

The other war kami is missing? I see my risk wasn't in vain. This alone is a prize for my master.

"And if you're wrong?" His voice boomed.

"I hope I am. This is merely a theory father; I don't want to believe any one of us could ever betray you."

The golden archer nodded his head frivolously while his sister stared at her blankly. Unlike her brother she was pure silver, she glowed like a drop of moonlight. Her very presence was that of a hunter, a watcher and slayer of beasts. I've seen her kind in the court of the conqueror and that traitorous samurai. Her eyes were the pale moon, I was so entrance until they wandered to me, I freezed.

Did she see me!?

The kami gave me a secret smile, so quick and hidden it could barely be considered to have existed. Her eye's look through my vessel and to me. Silver meets red and blue.

I have been compromised!

But just as quickly she looked away.

"Your awfully quiet Artemis. If I recall, it was a full moon that night. Did you see anything?" The war-kami turns to her.

"No." She responded immediately.

"Really, surely that sun could be seen for miles, aren't you supposed to guard the night? Shouldn't you know everything in your domain?"

"Hold on, what are you implying?" The golden archer interjected.

"I'm not implying anything. I'm just curious, that's all."

"My sister has nothing to do with this!"

"I just want to know her perspective. Surely she could answer for herself.

"Don't-"

"It's fine brother. I will say my piece." The moon-kami voice was alluring yet dubious. Like a bait on a hook beckoning fish to bite it. Even her brother looked surprised by her demeanor.

"No, it wasn't a clear sky. Lord father's clouds blocked my sight." She looked directly at the king, her glare matched with his, the blue fought with the silver, like the moon in a clear sky. "There was absolutely nothing there. I saw no one. I swear."

I spied for courts, mastered illusions, became a great sorcerer, even studied ninjutsu; but even an amateur could tell that was an obvious lie. The war-kami knows it too, she looks at her curiously. All while the king waits.

"I swear on the river Styx. This one didn't see anything."

They all waited for something, but just like before nothing happened. But the tension didn't drop.

"See!" The golden archer clapped his hands, hoping to relieve the atmosphere. "So I guess we're back to square one?..."

The counselor relented and glanced aside. "It appears so. Our only lead now is Ares. I spoke with Aphrodite, but she's not forthcoming with information, especially to me." Her gaze drifted towards her king.

"Father, give me your authority, I'd like to be in charge of this investigation. We may be enemies but I know Ares like the back of my hand. There's nothing he can do that I can't counter. Please, he could be the key to finding your master bolt." She pleaded with him, the king thought for a moment.

"Then you have it, Question everyone! I want answers now! But keep this quiet; no one besides us must know Ares is missing. It could tarnish the image of Olympus."

"As you command, father." The lady of war bowed.

"Find Ares. Search any rumor, follow any leads. Especially in the sea, I suspect Poseidon's hands in this. And you two, scour the day and night. Find the perpetrator."

"I shall inform my hunter's lord father. They will not speak a single word, you have my oath." The huntress nodded her head.

"They better. You all know your roles, this meeting is adjourned. " In a flash of light, lightning and thunder burst out of the throne. When it settled the king was gone and a silence entered the room.

The first to react was the golden man. All his tension was released with a long exhale.

"Wow, I've never seen him so angry."

"You should see him next to our uncles. Not a pretty sight." The war-kami stood up from her throne, her eyes never leaving the silver one.

"Still suspicious?" The silver huntress answered, her voice both serene and commanding.

"It's my job." In a blink she disappeared too, her comment lingers in the room.

Her brother looked troubled, strange, out of all the kami here he is the most human; making him the most easy to read. "Ugh. That was an ordeal… It's night, so I guess it's your turn sis?" The golden man walked from his throne, yawning.

"Indeed you lazy bum."

"Hey! The sun is down, I'm supposed to be asleep by now."

"We don't sleep you slacker."

"Hm. No wonder why you're so cranky." He gave her a look and she gestured for him to leave. He obliged, unlike the war-kami, he disappeared in a flash of light, it was as though the sun came and went. My eyes were momentarily blinded, I skittered until I bump against something. When my vision cleared, I found myself cradled within someone's palms.

"And what is this? A beast? No… A doll," she mused, rolling me in her hands.

"I wonder—"

Without hesitation, I activated the self-destruct spell. The vessel dissipated into nothing, as though it had never existed. With the connection severed, I returned to consciousness from my slumber.

"Initiating self-diagnosis."

"Mental systems: 10% damage detected. Detection systems operational. Combat systems operational. Commencing counter divining spells... No intrusion detected." The voice of this vessel lacked the refinement of the previous one; an upgrade to its voice box may be necessary.

I would sighed if I could, that was too close. My vessel was nearly captured, and my cover almost compromised. Additionally, I must note my loss of control to my master. I should avoid any missions involving the war-kami. Just the thought of her stirs anger within me. I am beginning to recognize the limitations of my components.

Using the vessels, I reattach my limbs and rise from my coffin. I find myself in my studio, a spacious chamber adorned with my paintings—each one a portrayal of my masterpiece, Naraka; a creation surely only my master can appreciate. My vessels skitter about, weaving webs that fill the room with their silk.

With a command, the automaton opens my door, and the vessels assist in dressing me in my regalia. I must hasten to my master, to warn him that our special targets are on the move. I step out of my hall and into Pandemonium.