CHAPTER 1

Richmond, Virginia- July 12, 2002

Artemis stood in the shadows just beyond the door, watching the baby wail. It was the kind of cry that pierced the night, echoing with an almost unnatural desperation. She wasn't the one who left the child here—no, that had been Athena's doing—but Artemis couldn't deny her curiosity. She had seen how Athena had created the child, how she had shaped it with the precision of a goddess, and for the first time in ages, Artemis found herself wondering what it would be like to have something of her own, someone who carried a part of her essence in the world.

It wasn't that she wanted a child in the way that mortals did, no. Artemis was devoted to the hunt, to the moon, to the wilds of the earth. She had sworn off men, never willing to degrade herself the way some of the other goddesses had. No, Artemis had no desire for romance or love, but there was something undeniably tempting about the idea of creating life. Athena, that eternally wise goddess, had found a way—a way that didn't involve any of the messy entanglements Artemis had always avoided. Though Athena did intentionally create the children to slightly resemble the men she fancied from time to time. After all, they're the one's she's making them for.

This baby, the one Athena had created, was a gift. Artemis could see it, even from a distance. The child's features were delicate, too perfect to be anything but divine. Her hair was only a few soft strands, but Artemis could already tell it would be golden, just like her mother's. The child's gray eyes—stormy and full of understanding—locked onto Artemis's, and for a moment, the wailing stopped. The baby reached up, her tiny hands stretching toward Artemis as if trying to touch her face.

Artemis smiled, her heart softening despite herself. She hadn't realized how much she wanted this—wanted to see something she created, something that belonged to her, even if only a little. Maybe one day you'll join my hunt, Annabeth Chase, she thought, her fingers brushing the air, bestowing her blessing on the infant.

The baby cooed, and Artemis lingered for a moment, feeling the weight of her decision. She would do it. She would create her own child, a son who would carry her essence into the world. Despite her dissent of the male gender, she decided to make him in the likeness of the only man she ever shared a connection with. She would name him Orion. He would be strong, beautiful, powerful—everything Artemis had ever dreamed of, a child born from her, a living embodiment of the hunt. She would make him, and he would be a creature of both the gods and mortals, a being whose grace and ferocity would be known throughout the ages.

If things go well, Artemis thought with a rueful smile, maybe my father won't send a thunderbolt my way.

Her twin brother had broken the rules before. Why shouldn't she? The temptation was too great to resist.

A door creaked open, and Artemis stepped back into the shadows. Frederick Chase, Annabeth's father, appeared on the doorstep. He looked confused for a moment, his eyes darting over the quiet neighborhood, but when he saw the golden cradle, the understanding hit him like a thunderclap. He crouched down, peering at the baby, whose giggles had replaced the cries.

"Hi there," he whispered softly, as if speaking to a precious thing. "Let's get you out of the cold," he said, lifting the bassinet with tender care.

As he turned to enter the house, the baby's giggles rang in the night like a promise, and Artemis disappeared back into the night, her heart fluttering with anticipation. She had made her choice.

Unknown location - November 3rd, 2002

Diana stormed through the forest, her jaw clenched so tightly it could've shattered marble. Her arms cradled a squirming, silver-eyed baby—her baby. Every step she took, bare feet whispering over moss and leaves, was punctuated by muttered curses. Most of them were directed at her Greek self.

"Oh, brilliant idea, Artemis," she growled under her breath. "Athena creates a child without breaking any sacred oaths, so of course, you have to one-up her. No planning, no foresight. Just—poof! Instant demigod!" She sighed, glaring at the trees as though they were responsible for her current predicament. "And now, I have to clean up your mess."

She glanced down at the baby. His tiny face was calm, his bright silver eyes gazing at the world like he owned it. His hair was white as freshly fallen snow, a stark contrast against the dark forest around them. And the power radiating from him? Diana could feel it thrumming in sync with her own, like an unbreakable tether between them.

That was the problem.

The boy was supposed to be a demigod. Supposed to be. But under the full moon, his essence leaned more toward god than mortal. Diana could sense it. The monsters could sense it. Even the trees seemed to shiver at his presence.

He was barely four months old, yet already a beacon for every monster within a hundred miles. The air around them buzzed with tension, a silent promise that something big and scaly was lurking just beyond the trees. Echidna's spawn were clever—they wouldn't attack while Diana was watching. But they were there, skulking in the shadows, drawn to the boy's power and his mortal blood.

Diana scowled. "The Graecus side of the family," she muttered, "always making things harder than they need to be."

The moonlight spilled through the branches, illuminating a clearing ahead. Diana stopped, feeling the weight of another presence pressing down on her. She looked up at the full moon, its light sharp and unrelenting, and sighed. If she wanted to talk to Lupa, she'd have to do it like this—in her Roman form.

A low growl rumbled from the shadows.

"Lady Diana."

The voice was deep, commanding, and decidedly lupine. Diana turned to see a massive white wolf step into the clearing, her golden eyes gleaming with intelligence. Behind her, smaller wolves fanned out, their movements synchronized like a well-trained army.

"Lupa," Diana said, tilting her head in acknowledgment. "Old friend." She raised the baby slightly, the motion deliberate. "I'd like you to meet my son."

Lupa's ears twitched. For a moment, she simply stared, her gaze flickering between Diana and the child. Her expression shifted from surprise to something closer to wariness.

Lupa stepped forward, her enormous paws sinking into the soft forest floor. Her golden eyes fixed on the child in Diana's arms, and for a moment, the Wolf Goddess of Rome—proud, unshakable Lupa—actually hesitated. Her pack shifted uneasily, their growls low and uncertain. The air was heavy with tension, charged with the raw, unnatural power emanating from the infant.

"Your… son?" Lupa's voice was deep, resonant, with the kind of authority that could silence armies. Beneath the steel, there was an undercurrent of disbelief. "I was unaware you could bear a child, Lady Diana. Has the world truly turned so upside down that the Huntress would break her sacred vow?"

Diana sighed, clearly exasperated, though her arms instinctively cradled the boy tighter. "Not by the way you're thinking, old friend. My Greek self—" she practically spat the words, her face twisting in disgust, "—decided to mimic Athena's methods. No mortal man involved. Just a… divine experiment. But, as you can see, Artemis failed to consider the consequences."

The baby, as if sensing he was being discussed, let out a soft coo. Lupa's ears twitched, and she took another cautious step forward, her sharp gaze flickering over the child.

"Lady Diana," Lupa said, her tone grave, "you must know this child will never be safe. He will not be welcomed in either of the two demigod camps. Neither Jupiter nor Zeus will tolerate his existence if they discover what you have done. This boy is doomed."

The pack behind her growled their agreement, their yellow eyes flashing in the moonlight.

Diana's silver eyes blazed, and her voice turned icy. "Enough!" she snapped. The wolves fell silent, their heads lowering instinctively. "No harm will come to him. I may be furious with my Graecus side for creating him, but I will not let anyone—Olympian or monster—destroy him."

Lupa tilted her head, her gaze sharp and calculating. "He is… extraordinary," she admitted. "But his power… it is unnatural. Even now, it ripples through the forest, calling to the beasts of Tartarus. He is neither fully mortal nor fully divine. What do you intend to do with him?"

Diana sighed, her sharp glare softening as she looked down at the sleeping child. "That's why I came to you. Every breath he takes draws monsters. Echidna's spawn follow us like vultures circling a dying animal. Even I cannot fend them off indefinitely without risking the attention of the Olympians. I need a place for him—a sanctuary where he can grow, away from their gaze."

Lupa stepped closer, her massive shadow engulfing Diana. Her voice was gentler now, though still heavy with caution. "You seek my protection? You would have me raise this child among my wolves?"

Diana shook her head, her grip on the boy tightening. "No. He is my responsibility. But I need your guidance, Lupa. You have trained countless demigods, taught them how to survive. Show me how to protect him. Show me how to keep him safe."

Lupa hesitated, her golden eyes narrowing. "Lady Diana, you know the laws. You cannot stay with the boy. The gods are forbidden from raising their children. Jupiter will know. And when he does…"

Diana's jaw tightened. "What would you have me do?" she snapped. "Leave him to fend for himself? Let him be hunted down before he even learns to walk?"

Lupa growled softly, a sound that was more sorrowful than threatening. "No. But he cannot stay with you. If he is to survive, he must live with mortals—far from Camp Half-Blood and far from Camp Jupiter. The Romans must never know the Greek demigods still exist."

Diana frowned. "A mortal couldn't protect him. Not from the things hunting him."

"Your Greek self commands an army of mortal hunters," Lupa said, her voice steady. "Each of them is a warrior, bound to your service. Entrust the boy to one of them. They will shield him from harm and raise him in your name."

Diana looked down at the boy. His tiny hands had curled into fists, his silver eyes closed in sleep. She felt a sharp ache in her chest, a foreign kind of pain she hadn't expected. This was what her fellow Olympians must have felt, having their children torn away from them. She hadn't understood it before, but now…

Her voice was soft when she spoke. "Thank you, old friend," she said.

Lupa inclined her head, though her gaze lingered on the child, her expression unreadable. "Go swiftly, Lady Diana. The longer you linger, the more danger you bring."

Diana nodded. She knew what had to be done. The only way to keep him safe… was to let him go. She turned and disappeared into the forest, the boy cradled close to her heart, even as she prepared to give him up.

Helloooo Percy Jackson fans. I'm new to this whole writing thing but my imagination is limitless. This new story happens after the final Trials of Apollo book, after Apollo is restored to godhood and Nero is defeated, a new demigod surfaces. A son of the most unlikliest of Olympians joins the fight against the forces of chaos while a new enemy of Olympus rises. If you like it, make sure to tell me what you think. I'm updating the second chapter in the next twenty four hours. I'm kinda taking a break writing Super Saiyan infinity but not permanently, i'm just currently out of ideas. Anyways hope you guys are doing great.