The moment my feet touched the heated sand, I knew something was wrong. The waves were slamming against the shoreline with such vengeance that it was a wonder that the sand dunes were still standing. The wind made my hair repeatedly slap my face while also kicking up clouds of sand, blurring my vision.

After my eyes started to burn from the amount of sand in the air, I put my sunglasses back on, glad that they provided enough of a barrier that I didn't need to squint. I walked towards the water, tucking my shoes away into my bag so that they didn't get soaked.

But the moment my feet touched the ocean, I jumped back, cursing under my breath as I felt like someone had poured acid on me. My feet and ankles were bright red and covered in blisters, something that reminded me of the time that one of my classmates dumped hydrochloric acid onto a skin graft, and before the acid ate away a hole in the graft, it turned red and was covered in blisters.

However, this wasn't hydrochloric acid, because the effects were already disappearing by my stepping away from the water.

Frowning, I stooped down and picked up a smooth stone, the kind that was perfect for skipping, and chucked it into the ocean. I barely had enough time to duck before the same rock was flung back at me, lodging itself into a wooden stake that had been set up as a part of protection for a turtle nest.

"Okay, Poseidon," I muttered under my breath, tying my hair back into a tighter ponytail. "What's going on?"

I received my answer in the form of half a dozen serpentine creatures darting out of the waves. They were an inky blue color, the same shade as the darkest depths of the ocean, each about two feet long. And while I could deal with sea snakes any day of the week, these weren't your typical Sea Kraits or Coral Reef Snakes.

Each snake had this set of horns on them, but they looked more like they'd accidently skewered themselves on a piece of sharp metal, then their bodies grew around the foreign body instead of appearing like horns that you'd see on something like the Minotaur.

I summoned Epithymia, backing up as the serpents approached. Then, when one of them got too close, I slashed downward, hoping to cut off its head. Imagine my surprise when this thing leaped up and wrapped itself around the edge of my blade, spitting a bright green liquid at my wrist.

I screamed as I felt its poison land on my skin, the smell of my burning flesh flooding my nostrils. The other snakes, which I now recognized as Cerastae, took my moment of weakness as a chance to attack.

Right before the remaining five could burn me with their poison or bite me, I lit myself on fire, the only thing that could defeat Cerastae. I allowed my flames to race down my blade, causing the Cerastes wrapped around Epithymia to hiss in pain and flop into a dark blue puddle of goo on the sand.

I shot out a steady stream of fire until I was sure that the Cerastae were all gone, stopping the second the last snake disintegrated into gold dust. I then collapsed onto my knees, my energy having been severely drained from my wrist wound.

The skin around my wrist was starting to turn green and bubble, the tell-tale signs of poison. I swore under my breath as I rummaged around for my flask of nectar, biting down on a roll of gauze as I poured some nectar over the wound.

This was some pretty potent poison, even more painful than touching the River Acheron, which is saying something since that river is the literal personification of pain. Yeah, let's just say learning to navigate the Underworld took some getting used to at first.

Capping my flask of nectar, I took the gauze from my mouth and soaked it in the ocean, sighing in relief that the water no longer burned like it had earlier. I then wrapped my wrist, which was still a sight for sore eyes, to prevent infection. From what I could see, the water wasn't doing much in terms of healing, serving more as a way to dull the throbbing pain that was still left behind from the poison.

As I grew accustomed to the pain in my wrist, I looked around, realizing that the wind and the waves seemed to die down altogether. The sun beamed down overhead, shining on a perfectly still ocean that had transformed from a murky mess to completely see through, like a pool.

"What the hell?" I asked, touching the water once again. Either I'd witnessed Poseidon in an extremely bipolar moment, or this was Oceanus' doing.

"I believe I can explain," someone said, and I just about incinerated them.

A man had suddenly appeared in the ocean, his skin a light shade of green, reminding me of Juniper. But this was a softer green, more turquoise than the chlorophyll that ran through nymphs' veins. He had jet black hair, long enough that it was tied back into a ponytail at the nape of his neck.

But what stood out to me the most was the fact that I could only see the upper half of his body, and that was covered in bronze armor that was studded with multiple pearls. Around his neck was a conch shell on a necklace of seaweed, something that gave me a hint to his true identity.

It was the trident insignia on his vambraces that really gave him away, though. That, and I'd waded deep enough into the water that I'd seen his two tails instead of legs.

"Lord Triton," I said, inclining my head for a moment before looking back up. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

The son of Poseidon seemed slightly surprised that I'd recognized him so quickly. I guess Poseidon had kept my presence a secret when I trained with him at his underwater palace. We usually trained on Olympus, but sometimes, we'd spend the week in the ocean, which I loved seeing that I was stuck on Olympus the majority of the time when I'd been training.

"Father requests your presence. Something about wanting a second opinion from Olympus' favored demigod." Triton sounded bitter and hurt flashed in his cerulean blue eyes, but I refused to let some god's ego hurt my feelings.

"Okay, give me a second." I turned Epithymia and my bag back into their charms, ignoring Triton's look of awe as he watched my things disappear onto my bracelet. "Alright, I'm ready."

"Follow me. And try to keep up."

Triton dove under the water, darting off in the distance. I rolled my eyes at his childishness and took off as well, using the currents to keep me next to the sea prince.

While I had grown accustomed to the grandeur of Olympus, Atlantis still took my breath away every time I visited. I hadn't come by in over four years, spending my eighteenth birthday here and then never having the time to drop by again.

The palace was as big as the city on Olympus, with wide courtyards, gardens, and columned pavilions. The gardens were sculpted wit coral colonies and glowing sea plants. Twenty or thirty buildings were made of abalone, white but gleaming with rainbow colors. Fish and octopi darted in and out of the windows. The pathways were lines with glowing pearls like strings of Christmas lights.

The main courtyard was filled with warriors – mermen with fish tails from the waist down and human bodies from the waist up, except their skin was blue. Only the royal family and the Nereids had green skin. Some were tending the wounded, while others sharpened spears and swords.

Anti-siege weapons and fortifications were being built outside the palace walls – catapults, watch towers, bunkers, and the like. From up here, I could make out blasts of energy being exchanged, but it wasn't serious enough for more than a dozen warriors to be sent out at a time.

"The siege is beginning, isn't it?" I asked Triton, who stopped to glare at me.

He pointed at the abalone buildings beneath us, which housed the common merfolk, those who couldn't or wouldn't participate in the war effort. I could see little merchildren playing in the coral reefs while their parents watched them, trying to ignore the sounds of construction that surrounded the entirety of the palace.

"Father has evacuated all civilians to the palace," Triton explained, gesturing for me to follow him through one of the windows. We swam through a corridor, waiting for the geyser to shoot us up to the next level. "He thinks it'll keep them safer as we face Oceanus."

"You haven't answered my question," I pointed out, the geyser blowing moments later.

"Yes, the siege is underway, but I couldn't say anything so close to the public." Triton tapped at the trident on his vambrace, causing for one to appear in his hand. "It'll cause panic, something Father is trying to keep contained for the time being."

"That doesn't make much sense. When the fighting begins, won't that only cause more panic, since people are closer to the line of fire?"

"That's what I said! But Father refused to send his subjects somewhere else for refuge." Triton swam forward and pushed open the pearly doors. "Welcome to the throne room, Andromeda."

Triton swam off to stand, err, float next to a dolphin, Delphin, and his mother, Amphitrite. There were two other mermen as well, all of whom deferred to the man sitting in the throne, who was hunched over a weathered map with various clay figures there, like they were all playing a game of D and D.

Poseidon gave orders to Delphin, Triton, and the other mermen, before they swam out of the throne room, leaving behind a trail of bubbles. Amphitrite stared at the map for a moment more before taking a seat to the right of Poseidon, entwining her hand in his own.

"We'll be prepared, dear," Amphitrite cooed, tracing circles on the back of Poseidon's hand with her thumb.

"I'm afraid it won't be enough," Poseidon admitted, seeming to age ten years in ten seconds. His black hair and beard were immediately laced with streaks of gray, showing his true emotions about the upcoming war.

"Lord Poseidon? Lady Amphitrite?" I asked, kneeling in front of the king and queen of the sea.

"Hello, Andromeda," Amphitrite said warmly, neither disapproving nor excited to see me. It was more like she just accepted the fact that I was here but wasn't going to do anything about it. She wasn't as cold as Percy described her to be; then again, I wasn't a result of Poseidon's infidelity, so she couldn't hate me for that reason.

"Welcome back, Andy," Poseidon said, trying for a smile. In reality, it came out as a grimace. "I hope that Triton made your journey here pleasant."

"He did, thank you. But if this meeting was so urgent, why didn't you just call me?" I tapped my bracelet, reminding him of the gift Hephaestus had given me, something the god had presented during the summer solstice in front of all the other gods.

Poseidon blushed, earning a light slap on the arm from his wife. "I forgot about that, honestly."

I shrugged. "I don't blame you. Demigods and technology don't mix well."

Amphitrite scrunched her eyebrows together. "I thought you were a demititan?"

"She prefers the term demigod," Poseidon said, having noticed that I'd clenched my jaw. I could call Kronos father, but I hated being called a demititan. The kids at camp used it in such a derogatory and offensive way that I didn't want to be associated with the term. "Another way to spite our father, she says."

"So, what is this second opinion Triton says you're in need of?" I asked, wanting to switch the subject immediately.

"Ah, yes." Poseidon glanced over at Amphitrite, who was now glowering at her husband, her lips pressed together in a fine line. She smacked him again, this time on the back of the head and with a little more force. She then hopped down from her throne and disappeared in a vortex of bubbles. "Before we get to that, I want you to tell me about the Cerastae you faced before you got here."

I glanced down at my bandaged wrist, rubbing it the entire time as I recounted my fight with the sea snakes. Poseidon nodded along as he listened, his eyes focused on my wrist the whole time. He kept staring even after I'd finished my story.

"I'm sorry, is there something seriously wrong with my wrist that you keep looking at it like that?" I asked, fingering the edge of the gauze.

"Hmm? Oh, no, Cerastae poison isn't fatal to anything that inherits power from fire, usually. But especially not on the wrist."

I rolled my eyes. "Thanks for that reassurance."

"You're very lucky, Andy," Poseidon continued motioning for me to approach him. I willed the water to push me up to where he was sitting on his throne. He gestured for my bandaged wrist, and after a moment's hesitation, I held out my hand. "Now, I may not be as good as this as Apollo, but it will still help."

He unwrapped the gauze and pressed a finger onto the burned area, causing me to wince. Then a light blue glow surrounded my wrist until most of the poison had been healed, only leaving behind slightly reddened skin.

"I haven't seen the Cerastae around in centuries," Poseidon continued. "They're so ancient, I've almost forgotten about them. It's a good thing you inherited Hestia's fire power, or I'm afraid you would've died from the venom overload. You know that one Cerastes bite has enough venom to kill fifteen people?"

I paled and swallowed a lump in my throat. "How lovely. Now, can you please tell me why I'm here?"

"Yes, the reason I asked Triton to retrieve you." Poseidon leaned back into his throne, shutting his eyes. Something roared overhead, and moments later, a large squid, easily the size of a school bus, tried to descend into the throne room. Poseidon didn't even open his eyes, shooting off a blast from his trident, turning the squid into a thousand terrified sardines.

I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach, the kind that made me worried about what Poseidon had called me down here for.

"I want you to stay and fight alongside me in the battle with Oceanus."

I was still shell-shocked when I made it back to camp, ignoring everyone in favor of hiding inside the Poseidon cabin. No one was in it anyways, since Percy and Tyson were still on the quest inside the Labyrinth.

Salt water completely soaked the floor, a result of Percy killing the fountain in the corner the night before his quest. Even though that had been four days ago, I'd always been so exhausted at the end of the day that I hadn't noticed the water.

While I dried the floor, I pondered over Poseidon's offer.

I had a duty here at Camp Half-Blood: to train campers to be as prepared as they could be in hand-to-hand combat. Not to mention, I trained with some of the older campers one-on-one in whatever style they wanted to improve in before dinner time. I mean, Chiron had been willing to have me angry at him to keep me at camp, so I knew just how desperate the situation was.

Not to mention that there was going to be a massive attack in the camp in anywhere between three weeks and a month, and I needed to be here when it happened. While I knew camp would survive without me, I'd look like the biggest traitor/coward in the world if I didn't help.

But Poseidon's offer was slightly tempting, too.

I'd been dying to help out in the war efforts ever since Kyle had a real army, since last December. I'd even sent an Iris-message to Zeus and Athena, asking if I could be an undercover spy, but they both thought the idea was too reckless and dangerous and that I could only help out via the camps.

And while I enjoyed training campers, there were some days that I wanted to bash my brains out when I had to repeat instructions ten times because the kids wouldn't listen. And it wasn't the ADHD, it was that they genuinely didn't want to train, something I still haven't completely wrapped my head around.

I liked fighting, and I was good at it. But was that enough to convince me to leave camp behind for the rest of the year?

Thankfully for me, Poseidon told me that he didn't need an answer until after attack on camp, knowing how much this place meant to Percy, Tyson, and me. For as much as he was an absent father, Poseidon cared about his children and only wanted them to be safe. Or as safe as a demigod and Cyclops can be.

But if Poseidon was really this desperate for help, why didn't he ask Percy instead? Not that I had anything against the sea god, but personally, I'd prefer having my child fight alongside me as a morale boost. Then again, I wasn't a god or a parent, so I guess I really wasn't qualified to make that kind of decision.

I finally left my cabin around six, right around when dinner was about to start. However, I didn't have much of an appetite and instead headed for the Big House, remembering that I'd seen Chris Rodriguez writhing in pain the last time I saw him.

I wasn't Mr. D by a longshot, but maybe I could help with the madness just a little. I mean, I didn't get to use Hera's powers all the often, so this would be interesting. The inner scientist in me was excited, but I reminded myself that this was a fellow demigod who'd been driven to insanity, not some lab rat that I could experiment on.

Unsurprisingly, I found Clarisse sitting next to Chris, her hand firmly clasped around his, the both of them fast asleep. Dark circles were under Clarisse's eyes, making me wonder when was the last time she'd gotten any sleep. Chris wasn't much better off, his face contorted as if he were in pain as he slept, his eyes darting back and forth under his eyelids, signaling a dream.

I found a spare blanket on the countertop and draped it over Clarisse's shoulders, careful not to wake the sleeping daughter of Ares. If you thought Nico was terrifying after being woken up, you clearly haven't faced Clarisse's wrath. The last camper that woke up Clarisse reeked of toilet water for a week afterwards. At least with Nico you could fight off the skeletons.

"Mary, NO!" Chris shouted, jolting from the bed with a start. He frantically glanced around the room, his eyes glazed over with indescribable terror as his fingers dug into the mattress, holding on for dear life.

Clarisse woke up instantly, frowning slightly as she watched Chris start babbling on about someone named Mary. "My name's Clarisse," she said, her voice impossibly soft as she retracted her hand back to her side. "You're safe now. Please, just hang on until Mr. D comes back."

"Mary, stay away from him! The son of Poseidon – he's horrible, Mary!"

"Percy's not going to hurt you," Clarisse reassured him. "He's not even here."

"The earth heals him!" Chris wailed, burying his face into his knees. He then started banging his head against his legs, like he was trying to knock himself out using only his patellae. "You can't defeat him! Mary, run! Mary? MARY!"

Chris then started sobbing hysterically, mumbling, "No," repeatedly under his breath, rocking back and forth on his bed. Clarisse was biting her bottom lip, trying hard not to cry at the sight of the broken son of Hermes. She'd had a crush on Chris for the past three years but never made a move, and now she was probably cursing herself for waiting so long.

"Can I help?" I asked Clarisse, watching as she jumped in her seat, her hand already closed around her spear, which had been on the floor next to her.

"Unless you can cure madness, I don't think so," Clarisse spat, vehemently pressing her palms against her eyes. She sniffed once and set her spear back down, pulling the blanket tighter around her shoulders. "I can only hope that he holds on until Mr. D comes back."

"I can't cure madness," I said sadly, "but I can affect memories. Maybe I could bring up a happy moment here at camp, you know, to help him remember? It may ground him for the time being."

Clarisse glanced back towards Chris, who was now attempting to rip his hair from his scalp. She stood up and gently pulled his hands back down to his lap, holding them so that he couldn't go back to hurting himself.

"Do it," she said, clearly swallowing her pride as she did. "Just, don't hurt him, please."

I nodded and walked next to Chris, placing my hands on both of his temples. Then, I gasped, instantly transported into his mind.

Hera had spent years training me in this power, as it was the only thing that I inherited from her. She was determined to make me a master of walking through memories, and now, I was finally putting that training to use.

The inside of Chris's mind was a mess, but that was to be expected from someone suffering from insanity. See, a sane person's memories tended to be on a timeline, starting from the first memory they retained up until the present. That being said, it meant that most people's minds were pretty organized, and at most, the timeline would only branch five or six times, depicting that person's most cherished memories.

Inside of Chris's mind, the timeline had completely shattered, leaving behind blobs of memory-matter everywhere, like little portals into different parts of his mind. For example, I was standing over a memory of Chris doing homework, while there was a memory of Chris talking to Kyle on the ceiling.

After shoving through hundreds of memories, I found the moment where Chris had gone insane inside the Labyrinth. He was already delirious from dehydration and exhaustion, his eyes wild like those of a hunted animal while he clutched onto his sword, continuing to stumble forward through the Labyrinth.

Chris then entered a circular room, the entrance which he'd come through no longer there when he tried to retrace his steps. The only other exit was on the other side, but standing in the middle of the room was a ghostly girl, her skin paler than freshly fallen snow, a black dress hanging loosely from her skeletal frame. Her eyes were sunken in as if only her eye sockets were left behind, but I could clearly make out bright red irises. Her light brown hair was braided with daisies, giving her an air of innocence that starkly contrasted against the malignant aura she was emitting.

"Mary?" Chris had asked, his voice hoarse from lack of use and water.

"The one and only," the girl, Mary, sneered, walking soundlessly towards Chris. She stopped until she was a few inches in front of him, cocking her head to the side and observing him like a kid who'd just gotten a new toy. "I see you're doing well."

"How are you here?" Chris's face tightened with anger, strengthening the grip on the pommel of his sword. "I thought you were dead."

"Oh, I am," Mary confirmed. "I was sent to torment you for your pathetic failure. Failing to keep your little sister safe? How could you?"

"I-I offered myself up. He said you wouldn't be hurt."

"He lied!" Mary screeched, the torches around the room flaring up in response to her anger. "Because of your cowardice, I was torn apart, used as a peace offering to let your friends through! I wasn't like you, brother, yet you used me just as those gods of yours use you and your demigod friends. I thought you were supposed to be better than them!"

"We are," Chris promised. "We're going to build the world from scratch, one where there is no more war or needless suffering. The gods will fall and-"

Mary threw her head back and gave a bitter laugh. "How could you be so blind, brother? You are still a pawn, whether you know it or not."

"That's not true!"

"Soon, you will see that I'm right. But in the meantime, you are going to suffer just as I have."

Mary then walked right through Chris, vanishing through the wall behind him. He whirled around, looking for his sister before he fell to his knees, a horrible cry ripping itself free from his throat as the room began to violently shake, the torches extinguishing all at once.

"SUFFER!" Mary's voice echoed around the room while Chris kept screaming his head off.

Once the shaking died down and the torches lit up, Chris staggered onto his feet, swaying back and forth as he tried to regain his balance. At first glance, you'd think he was perfectly fine. But then I saw his eyes, seeing the same impenetrable terror glazed over his hazel irises that he was still wearing – the sign of mania induced insanity.

I pulled myself out of that memory and quickly began searching for something happier. As I sifted through other memories, I realized how strong Chris must've been to still be clinging on. Mania induced insanity was the second strongest form of mental punishment that's ever been recorded, the first strongest being a curse directly from Mr. D. It's amazing that Chris wasn't catatonic at the moment.

Finally, I found a memory of Chris sitting by Clarisse at one of our campfires. The two of them were shooting each other furtive glances, trying not to get caught by the other. However, the two of them locked eyes for a split second, causing for Chris to blush and Clarisse to smile smugly, like she'd just won a competition.

I touched the edges of that memory, forcing it to solidify in my hands as I walked to where Chris's timeline was supposed to be. Although the memories had exploded everywhere, the timeline was still intact, just out of commission.

I placed the memory at the end of the timeline, shutting my eyes as I channeled some of my own memories and emotions about some of the best campfires we'd ever had, which would strengthen Chris's.

Once I heard the distinct click of the memory locking into place, I withdrew my hands from Chris's face, stumbling back into the wall as the world spun. Yeah, side effects of memory manipulation included severe vertigo, which was another reason that I didn't use this power all that much. Plus, having to have my hands on the person was a severe downside.

But, if I really had to, I could bring up that person's worst memories with a simple touch. The only reason I entered Chris's mind was to fix a portion of his timeline, but for a sane person, I could bring up any memory so long as I was touching them. Still, I didn't think it was worth the vertigo afterwards.

While I leaned against the wall to keep from falling over, I heard Chris say, "Clarisse?"

"Yes?" the daughter of Ares replied earnestly, sounding extremely hopeful.

"She makes me happy," he continued, sounding much more relaxed than he had been a few minutes ago. "I didn't want to leave her, but I was tired. So tired."

Finally, I wasn't seeing double anymore. I saw Clarisse mouth, "Thank you," before returning her attention to Chris. I smiled in response, wincing slightly at the throbbing I felt in my temples. Ugh, I hated headaches.

I left the Big House, running right into Cleo as I made my way towards the amphitheater. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying, and tear streaks were left behind on her cheeks. Her usually neat blonde hair was a rat's nest, pulled back into a messy ponytail. Dirt and blood covered Cleo's clothing, instantly putting me on high alert.

"Cleo," I said, holding her in place by her shoulders. "What's wrong?"

Another wave of tears started streaming down her face, her breath coming out in short hiccups as she struggled to breathe. She wrapped her arms tightly around my waist, burying her face into my shirt.

All she said was, "Andy, I'm going to die."