1,289Chapter 32
The Return of the King
There was a Great Prophecy.
It announced the return of an enemy the Olympians thought to have vanquished forever long ago.
The Olympians, any other time, would have prepared for war.
But the words of the Oracles did give them pause.
Should the Olympians fight this conflict directly, they would win for a time, but ultimately it would create the seeds for a far greater war, one they may not survive.
This brought a great dilemma to the Council and all the immortals obeying the Ancient Laws.
Challenges were not something the Olympians were reluctant to crush whenever they began to appear.
But this time, unleashing the might of Olympus was not the solution.
After a few days of accusations, feuds, and quarrels, the Goddess of Wisdom stepped forwards.
She had an idea.
The Olympians would gather together a group of remarkable Demigods.
Alone, they were Heroes.
Together, maybe they would be able to become something more.
So when darkness fell, they as Questers could fight the battle that mortals never could.
The orders were given.
They were three commands, unusual for a Great Quest of that importance. But then, there were the fifty most powerful Demigods of their generation.
They were to sail for the Sea of Monsters.
They were to recover the Golden Fleece.
They were to do what the Ancient Laws denied to the Olympians.
I, Prometheus, Titan of Crafty Counsel, was there, watching them.
I observed their exploits.
I sympathised with them, as brotherhood forged their crew into something that could crush armies of monsters and survive the wrath of Titans and God-Beasts alike.
They were valorous. They were courageous. They were heroic. They accumulated a series of unprecedented victories.
I laughed as their legend spread across the Sea of Monsters.
Then I mourned for them.
I was there when in time, they discovered what it was like to lose.
They felt deep in their hearts that their cause was right.
They were fighting for something bigger than their short lives and legends.
And yet they failed all the same.
Some refused to let dread consume them and died.
Some ran from it.
It didn't matter.
Destiny still arrived for all of them.
The Golden Fleece was recovered.
But everything else was ashes.
Brotherhood had turned into hatred.
Victory had disappeared into a storm of corpses and wrecks.
As for Love, it was buried deep, with Jealousy ruling supreme, and this would lead to untold tragedies.
The Great Quest was over.
The Olympians had to intervene, and though victory was won on that day, the very think they wanted to avoid was indeed put into motion.
False tales were spread. Witnesses were silenced. Rumours were twisted to the point no one knew what to believe anymore. Many of the Olympian's children would end up mad, or rejected by the societies that had considered them heroes.
But there wasn't a choice.
The Demigods had lost.
All chance to balance the scales of Fate had ceased to be.
There had been an idea, and it had proved unworkable in the end.
Or had it?
On the same island the Argonauts failed, other heroes succeeded.
Destiny arrived, but the answer wasn't the same.
How intriguing.
Maybe your idea can work after all, Athena.
27 January 2007, the Fields of Punishment, the Underworld
The whips struck before he could say anything.
Gods, it hurt.
It felt like his blood itself was resonating with the pain.
"AARRRGGGGGGGGH!"
The whips were covered with spikes, thorns, and plenty of shark tools.
They struck mercilessly, and then they struck again.
The pain doubled.
Then it doubled again.
He screamed.
He screamed for what felt like an eternity.
Why? Why did it hurt so much? He was dead-
"Look at you. You're wondering I think why you feel so much pain? It's rather simple, you see."
"Murder!"
"The pathetic thing that represents you entire essence has been trapped into one of the latest simulacrum-automatons. It is something reserved for the most favoured lieutenants of our Lord...and for the worst criminals bound to the Fields of Punishment."
The whip struck arms and legs. The pain became torment.
It took it hours before he could find the strength to articulate a few words.
"I...I can't be bound for the Fields of Punishment! I deserve a trial! Every person is owed one, at the end of his life!"
"You did get a trial," the blue-clad Fury informed him. "Remember? It was at the end of your first life. Per the intervention of Apollo himself, you did end up in Asphodel, despite the fact you likely deserved the Fields of Punishment!"
"MURDER!"
The whip of the green-clad Fury tore apart his back.
He screamed.
"But you escaped the Underworld, and doing so, you violated countless laws. Worse, you used this chance at a second life to commit countless abominable crimes. Therefore our Lord decided a second trial was unnecessary."
A collar materialised around his neck, and he was forcefully dragged towards a sinister black structure.
The closer they came to it, the fewer doubts were permitted: it was indeed a massive torture engine.
Restraints of a metal that was darker than obsidian closed upon his limbs.
His strength waned, and for the first time in his life, gaining the attention of tens of thousands of souls nearby didn't bring him any joy.
"Now, Emperor Commodus," the title uttered by the Fury was mockery itself. "Your punishment has already been decided. But before the fun truly begins, my Lord has commanded me to find out from your mouth the honest answers to several questions he's been asking since you reappeared as a High Judge of the Adjudicator Games."
"Go fuck a Hellhound!" Commodus spat defiantly. "I bet this is the only kind of monster who would tolerate your advances, you old crone!"
"Murder?"
The red-clad Fury...laughed?
The blue-clad Fury used a knife and stabbed his left hand. Whatever pain had been inflicted before, it was nothing compared to the sheer suffering that ravaged his soul now.
"For the record," the hiss was low, but maniacal, "the last mortal I had plenty of fun with was the son of Bacchus you tried to kill in your arena. Just for that, Commodus, I am going to make your torture a thing the entire Underworld is going to remember for the next ten thousand years!"
The whip struck three times.
"Sisters! You are my witnesses, the prisoner is refusing to cooperate!"
"Murder!"
"I presume you want to have fun with him first, sister?" the red-clad Fury bared her fangs.
"You presume correctly, sister. Tisiphone? Bring me the nails."
The green-clad Fury seemed to teleport away. Her absence did not last long, though, merely a few seconds.
"I have no reason to speak any secrets if the sentence is to say here for ten thousand years, you know. And by the fault of Prometheus, I am now a werewolf. I will regenerate-"
The box the third Fury had given her sister was opened.
The former Roman Emperor froze.
"Yes, these are indeed silver nails," the blue-clad Erinye smiled carnivorously. "And yes, they are going to cancel your werewolf regeneration entirely. Now, I am sure an Emperor of your bloody past has done some torture in the past. But have you ever tried to hammer silver nails into the spine of a werewolf?"
"No!" Terror became his entire world, and suddenly the tiny objects represented a far greater fear than anything Perseus Jackson and his circus had ever given him. "NO! I WILL SPEAK! I WILL SPEAK!"
"Oh, you will," the chief torturer of the King of Hell chuckled. "But first, I think you are going to pay back for your insult."
Commodus tried to break his restraints. He tried to summon all his strength. He begged. He screamed.
None of it had any effect. And then the torture began.
Calling it the definition of suffering and agony wasn't doing it justice.
The son of Marcus Aurelius screamed until there was no power in his lungs and his throat.
Every part of his soul was tortured like it never had been before.
Everything broke, and the only thought now was to find a way to stop the burning spears shredding his back and his very essence.
"Now, now, those were only twelve nails, one for every Labour that took place in your narcissist arena."
Twelve? But they had never reached-
"Now I believe you are in a proper mood to answer my questions. Or perhaps the insolent Chihuahua wants to give a few more insults before I use the muzzle and some other correctional measures?"
Commodus cried. He couldn't summon anything like the shadow of the defiance he had shown before; now the only things which mattered were the nails biting and bringing him so much pain.
"I...I will tell you everything...please...please just stop...please remove the nails..."
"I may," the Fury crooned. "I may. Now, I believe we have not done the presentations. I am Interrogator Megaera. I want the names of the senior figures of the Coalition who helped you financing these awful Games. Now!"
"I only know of three..." the nails were getting deeper. How could such tiny things hurt so much? "Prometheus...Prometheus was my benefactor, and was most of the time the middleman. I was...I met Midas too. And there was Python. Python and his bat whore..."
There was one more whip strike.
He screamed.
"You can't believe I am going to be satisfied with this?"
"These are all the ones I know the identity of, I swear!" Commodus shouted. "They conjured a shadowy construct with twelve Thrones every time I wanted to make some big request! But several beings were always keeping their appearances shrouded! And they kept distorting their voices!"
No more punishment came, and he continued to speak in a hurry.
"Prometheus was the Chairman. Midas was the Treasurer, and Python was their Oracle. They have someone they called the 'Sorcerer', but I don't know who he is, just that he is immortal. He couldn't hide his power all the time."
"Is that all?"
"No! I mean...it is just...he tried to hide it as best as he could, but I think at least one of the members is a Roman! The way he spoke, the manner he spoke and replied every time I mentioned the traditions of Rome...it would take a Roman to speak without notes. I swear on the Styx I am speaking the truth!"
There was an earth-shattering rumble, but the Goddess of Hatred didn't come to swallow him.
"Murderess?"
"He's saying the truth, sister." The blue-clad Fury stared at him. "How many Thrones did you ever see activated when you were a spectator?"
It took a vivid effort to remember. That reunion had been years before the Adjudicator Challenge was issued.
"Ten," Commodus replied. "I swear it was ten. There was never more than that, and most of the time, it was just the three I mentioned previously."
"Good. Now you are going to reveal the secrets of your crossbreeding experiments."
"But I can't...ARRRGGGHHHHH!"
Pain rose to a new level, and for an eternity, there was only screaming and begging the mercy of the Gods.
"It seems someone has not fully understood the lesson," his torturer purred. "I think the Chihuahua really needs to be re-trained. Sisters?"
"Well, it has been a while since we flayed a werewolf? I support the idea!"
"MURDER!"
The torture engine he was tied to made a series of infernal sounds, then an absurd number of sharp instruments emerged from the structure.
Some in particular came dangerously close to his legs...and the edge of the spikes was shining in radiant silver light.
Commodus froze.
"Let me present to you," the Fury purred, "the Nutcracker. And yes, oh Emperor, it does exactly what you think the name implies."
"NNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
27 January 2007, Council Room, Olympus
The atmosphere in the Council Room was extremely tense.
If there was one fact a witness would have needed to confirm it, it was the presence of Themis.
Yes, Jupiter had requested the presence of the Titaness of Divine Justice on that day.
That the Lady of Good Counsel had indeed answered the call could have been a good sign.
It really wasn't.
Themis was rigorously impartial, and it wasn't a mistake that she was traditionally represented with a set of scales on one hand and a sword in the other.
The Titaness of Order and Justice was beautiful, with her long black-hair and her statuesque figure, but the eyes remained as cold as steel, something Apollo had always felt she shared with Athena.
The black robe of a Judge she wore today just insisted what her role was, and it had never been about seduction or pleasurable hobbies in a forest for her.
"Bring me the prisoner." The King of the Gods ordered.
The gates opened silently, with most of the Olympians keeping solemn faces.
They didn't have to wait for long.
Hercules soon came forwards, holding immense chains. As usual, his half-brother's strength was shown in the most inelegant and blunt manner possible.
But the 'show' of the God of Strength was almost forgotten by the 'prisoner'.
Apollo blinked.
He pinched himself.
No, he wasn't dreaming.
The appearance one certain captive had chosen was truly-
"Mars," Jupiter began in a voice all his children had learned to fear, for it generally preceded the activation of the Master Bolt, "cease this at once, and take back your true appearance!"
The giant boar that was dragged at the centre of the Council Room emitted a powerful grunt.
"I am not Mars anymore! I am Ares the Boar! A proud boar! I was hypnotised by a perfidious hypnotist to believe I am a boar! I don't remember any part of the events of the last twelve days, save that it was Commodus and Perseus Jackson's fault! And Boars always say the truth! Boars can't be judged by the power of Justice!"
The God of the Sun had the sudden urge to jump from the top of Olympus in order to see if contact with the Atlantic Ocean could wash away this hallucination.
Bacchus wasn't that restrained. The God of Wine immediately conjured himself a cup filled with Nectar and several bags of popcorn.
"Oh, this is going to be good," the former First Referee of the Adjudicator Games chuckled. "I didn't think the mace had done so much damage-"
A murderous glare from Jupiter told him quite clearly to stop. Bacchus swallowed his Nectar and went silent.
Then the stormy eyes went back to the boar...pardon, Ares.
"God of War," there was no 'my son' or any form of courtesy, which was by itself a very, very bad sign. "I am, frankly, extremely disappointed in your actions. Your defeat at the hands of the Titaness of the Seas was not your fault; the multitude of crimes I discovered during your imprisonment certainly were, however. You then decided to make everything worse by attacking the very Demigods who had made your liberation possible. And now you waste my time with idiotic excuses! Explain yourself!"
"I am a boar! I succumbed to the vile influence of a hypnotist!" the animal...no, Ares answered petulantly. "I am the King of all Boars! I don't have to explain my instincts! I kill, and I open the guts of mortals with my tusks! It's all they deserve, and it's in the order of things! I am a boar and I can't-"
A large mace struck the porcine head before the divagation could progress further.
"Thank you, Vesta." Jupiter said. Apollo did try to keep an appearance of calm. Their Aunt was definitely in angry mode today, as proved by the red robe and the armour she had chosen for herself. "Themis, if you would?"
"My pleasure, Lord," the Titaness of Divine Justice replied. "We have several counts of mass-murder done against the Ancient Laws. We have at least three counts of using a divine appearance when the Ancient Laws definitely forbid its use. We have about five hundred counts of outrageous behaviour during an Adjudicator Game."
The list went on for many minutes.
"And of course," Themis finished, "in many of these crimes, it has been noted that Phobos of Fear and Deimos of Terror have participated and largely committed extraordinary crimes of their own. That their Temples are empty and abandoned shows quite clearly that their consciences are hardly pure."
"Minerva?" Jupiter asked.
"The warrants of arrest have been issued." The Goddess of Wisdom replied. "They await only your Seal."
"THEY ARE THE SONS OF THE BOAR!" Ares shouted. "GAH!"
The last exclamation was because Diana had just shot him an arrow right just below the tail...a location where assuredly no God worth the name wanted to be hit when incarnated in an animal body.
A second later, Vesta hit him with the same mace again.
In case anyone had any doubts, yes, Apollo was sure it was painful.
"Since the God accused thinks the time of Justice is a comedy, I believe we can skip most of the pleading," the Lord of Thunder and the Skies declared, Master Bolt in his right hand.
"Yes, yes," Boar-Ares must have a death wish, or the Labours of Commodus had indeed screwed up his head something fierce, these were the only explanations Apollo could think of. "You are going to deprive me of my powers, and send me back as a slave to Demigods, same like you did to Hera. I know what the sentence is, go ahead, old whitebeard."
The divine pressure skyrocketed, and even Bacchus hid his popcorn.
Yes, Ares definitely had a death wish.
"I am tempted to do so, I won't lie." The Master of Olympus admitted. "The move seems to have done some good things to Juno."
"Ha! I knew it!"
The exclamation of triumph lasted just enough for Vesta to hammer him again with her mace.
"But now that I think about it, I have no faith that depriving you of your divine powers and your godly Domains would do anything to curb down your behaviour. Themis?"
"He will learn nothing from it." The Titaness of Divine Justice confirmed. "All he understands is the language of violence, and sadly, New Byzantium is a settlement of warriors. He won't be kept away from it, weak or not."
The scales disappeared, and the sword was drawn.
"The punishment must be exemplary," Themis spoke in a voice of steel where no mercy could be found. "Otherwise no mortal will ever have any faith in justice. Boar or Centaur in appearance is unimportant. Ares broke plenty of our most important laws, and in his latest rampage, he proved that even Demigods supposed to rescue him were his enemies. The loss of his Throne and his Olympian Temple is a good beginning."
"WHAT?"
This time, it was Hercules who acted, with a gentle fist strike upon his half-brother's porcine back.
Yes, it was gentle...by Hercules' standards.
That meant several bones cracked loudly.
"Approved," Jupiter answered.
There was no need to react, a long tongue of flame came out of Vesta's hands, and the Eternal Flame slammed into the Throne of War.
The symbol of divine power, a thing which had included plenty of skulls and loot like gemstones and gold, began to melt away.
Suddenly, Ares finally began to understand he had gone a bit too far. The boar's shape began to blur, and the shadow of a Spartan warrior began to coalesce.
The sword of a Titaness struck, and the boar came back in all its brutish glory.
"As you have indeed proclaimed several times," Themis voiced frostily. "You are indeed a boar, Ares. So you will stay as one for the next twelve thousand days. If you fail to show me the so-called 'hypnotist' who was able to put you under his influence, I will add twelve additional days per time you proclaimed it."
This was too much for Bacchus, who began to laugh hysterically.
It was contagious; both Neptune and Mercury followed, with Vulcan and Venus not far behind.
Apollo swore he saw Minerva's lips twitch.
Of course, at that point, the Eternal Flame had finished burning, and the Throne was just a ruin. It was very much akin to a candle which had been used for too many hours. Some power surged back into Ares, but far less than what Apollo had expected to see.
"The Throne of War is no more. It will be replaced by the Throne of Strength. Hercules, my son, you will sit as a member of the Council for the first time."
"I accept the duty."
"You can't do that!" Ares protested, only to stop at the murderous glare of their genitor.
"You will find I can, and I will," Jupiter stated as the Master Bolt projected a lot of threatening sparks. "Treason against the very orders I gave is bad enough, but it came on the heels of incompetence, senseless murder, and a total loss of dignity and self-control. Do you even have the ability to summon your Roman Aspect anymore?"
The boar kept its maw shut. This was all the answer the Olympians present needed.
"The rest of the punishment?" the King of the Gods asked Themis.
"Imprisonment in a way that punishes him for his crimes," the Titaness judged. "Only when he will have learned from his mistakes will he be allowed to work on his redemption."
Obviously, Jupiter wasn't forced to follow Themis' suggestion. There were traditions that-
"So be it," the Master of Olympus nodded. What?
He wasn't the only one to look surprised, the punishment...it wasn't unprecedented, but-
"We need to keep the Gate of Delphi closed now that the Great Serpent is back." Ceres, his Aunt, gave a dangerous smirk. "I am the one who watches over it at the moment, but I could use a volunteer to work on the constant repairs. It will give Ares some humility he appears to solely lack at the moment."
Apollo shivered. As he had done it several times in the past, it was something...okay, it was awful.
"I do not deserve that!"
"Yes, you do," Vesta countered. "And don't forget, you will do it as a Divine Boar."
That was...that was downright vicious, coming from the Goddess of the Hearth and Home.
"I will not forget this humiliation!"
"I can bring a true hypnotist to make you forget it, you know," Bacchus yawned. "That way, next time, you will really believe you are a hairy pig, I mean, a splendid boar."
Ares tried to throw himself at the God of Wine. Before the solidity of the chains could even be tested, he was buried under an avalanche of purple grapes.
"Why you chose a boar baffles me nevertheless. Personally, I would have chosen a giraffe. Giraffes are cute-"
"I AM NOT A GIRAFFE!"
The aghast expression of a boar screaming the five words was something no Olympian would ever forget anytime soon.
For three seconds, there was complete silence.
A second after that, all the immortals present in the Council Room were unable to stop their hilarity from exploding out of control.
29 January 2007, somewhere beyond the realms of Dream and Air
It was a dream.
It had to be.
The place was nothing like the kind of islands that existed in the Sea of Monsters.
She was walking on a sea of clouds.
In front of her, there was a giant golden gate that was taller than a mountain.
It was only as she got nearer that Hera saw how strange the immense structure was.
It was indeed a Gate that was so huge that it was more a giant wall from her perspective.
But the four locks on this golden structure were linked to immense pedestals by different chains.
Three of these metallic structures were golden.
The fourth was definitely not; in fact, it looked like it was made of ice and snow, the very idea of winter.
And the pedestal...the pedestal was the only one of the four to not be empty.
On it, a magnificent white peacock was fanning its tail of pure white.
Hera frowned.
This was way too realistic to be a mere dream.
And she noticed the animal she had transformed into during the Fourth Labour had a few feathers missing.
The next second, the pressure came.
It was very much a dream after all.
"You dared touching my favourite animal."
"I wanted to put it on every pedestal," a slurred voice resonated, and the perfect blue sky was no more, dark clouds replacing it. "Why couldn't this bloody animal obey?"
"This noble and elegant animal," the former Queen of the Gods hissed, "is an essential part of me. You have no right to touch it, Zeus."
"I am the King! I have every right!"
Her ex-husband stepped forwards, although it would be more accurate to say he stumbled and did try to keep his balance at the same time.
Hera didn't bother hiding her disgust at the sight.
The image of the 'respectable head of state' he had tried to cultivate so hard was gone.
Instead-
It would be fair to say that the clothes were still very expensive. But the way they were presented...it was like a popular celebrity had gone visiting a strip-club.
Oh, by the Pit.
The bastard had gone to visit whores and everything again.
"You're drunk, Zeus."
The new claimant to the Throne of Seasons didn't know where her former husband had found Eleutherian Wine, but since Jackson had managed to get some in the first place, it must have given ideas to some.
"Nonsense," the slurry voice got worse, confirming that yes, he was indeed completely drunk. "I just took a sip of this beautiful vintage. My thoughts are purr...perfectly...whatever."
Had she been at the height of her powers, Hera would have already slapped him. As it was, it wasn't the envy that was lacking in her muscles.
"You...got rid of...Marriage...useless Domain...we can have fun together now. None of the...stupid things...fiend...fidelity..."
"Are you stupid enough to believe I want to be your companion again?"
By all the Hatred of Styx, watching him like that, Hera wanted to say she was going to kill herself before allowing him to touch her again.
But there was something wrong, something-
"You were forced to let Jupiter get dominant in the last days. Otherwise, you were going to get accused of violating both Ancient and New Laws, much like our son did."
The realisation was not particularly pleasant.
"You see? You said our son!"
"I could have added our mistakes too. I was blind to Ares' true nature, and I didn't care of the one who should have been protected."
If Jupiter was in control over the Throne, though, everything changed. The Roman part of her ex-husband was not burdened by the same emotions. Power and Dignity came before the carnal pleasures and the desire to protect his children.
Hera didn't know what had happened to Ares, but it had assuredly been unpleasant.
"I need you!"
The white peacock on the pedestal gave her a warning.
Hera was thus ready when a rope of green-blue energy tried to capture her like a lasso.
A dagger appeared in her hand, and the rope was severed.
"No, you think you need an idea version of me, because all the alternatives are worse!"
"Your power is calling for you! Look!"
Zeus went on transform himself into a giant bull, and then drunk as he was, his head smashed against one of the pedestals.
Hera would have facepalmed, if it didn't require dropping down her guard.
"I love...I love you!" The bull mooed.
"How many young women did you scream these words emptying you seed into them while I was cursed into this mortal body? Twenty? Forty? A hundred?"
The sudden silence and absence of repartee gave her very bad vibes that the latter guess may very well be the one closest to the truth.
This was going to result in a lot of bastards being born in the next months.
Fortunately, it wasn't her problem anymore.
"No. When I will merge back with the power that is mine by birthright, it will be my choice, and no one else."
"You let yourself be manipulated by Poseidon's bastard! He's using you! Wake up, Hera!"
"I have woken up," she snarled back at her ex-husband, who by now had a strange resemblance to the Minotaur.
Suddenly, she had a bad feeling about who exactly had fornicated with an Immortal Sorceress to sire the Labyrinth's Monster.
"Many of the things that happened to myself during this Great Quest, I did them with my own free will. Be happy I do not come back among the Council, my first act would be to wipe all your bastards out from existence!"
"So you care, my beautiful peacock-"
The Goddess of Winter conjured a new dagger, this one raging with the fury of a blizzard.
"Continue this sentence, and I will see if one can turn the King of the Gods into a eunuch. For the record, I care very much about the shame and the humiliation you spread every time you cheat upon the sacred vows we swore to each other. Why couldn't you be like Hades?"
"You want me to take two more wives in addition to you? Why didn't you say this earlier?"
This time, Hera had to admit her self-control utterly snapped.
"I wanted you to be faithful like your brother was to Persephone!" She raged. "In the last millennium, he took only seven mortal mistresses! Not a thousand, not ten thousand, seven!"
"My brother purchased the happiness of his wife with credit cards and long shopping sessions!"
"I do not see anything wrong with that," Hera answered bitterly. "Last time I wanted you to take me to Milan where I was going to get my new boots, you told me you were busy, and I found you in the arms of another whore!"
"She was not a prostitute! Your jealousy was ridiculous-"
"You cheated; I reminded you the consequences of your cheating." Hera gave a glance to the three empty pedestals. "I am doing the same now. You found it very funny to have me out of the way for several months; now you're having remorse. Who did Jupiter did find to replace me?"
It had to be this and nothing else; there was no other logical reason for Zeus to be in that state.
The God adopting a Minotaur-like appearance grumbled and mooed.
"I didn't understand that." She remarked sardonically. Cows may have been her sacred animal, and may become such once more, but for now, she had no symbiotic relationship with them.
"I said Victoria...he wants Victoria. Or Nike, if you prefer."
Hera gaped for a second or two, she wasn't going to lie.
Then she closed her mouth.
In a way, it made sense from a political perspective.
While Nike-Victoria was not as powerful as she, her power and her strength couldn't be denied. Martially, the Goddess of Victory surpassed several Olympians; Hermes to name just one.
Yes, as a Queen of Gods, Nike would be obeyed, of that there was no doubt. There wouldn't be a rebellion from other Goddesses, or whispers in the corridors that she was unworthy.
But Nike also was a daughter of Styx.
If there was a Goddess right after Hera more unlikely to tolerate the infidelities of the Master of Olympus, it was her.
Nike was the Goddess of Competitions, and strived to win every activity she participated in.
Ending in second place was anathema to her.
Hera knew that the Goddess had been mentioned several times as a potential betrothed for Apollo, of all Gods. While many times the subject had been opened, every time it had been agreed upon that the bachelor's behaviour of Leto's son made it far too risky to unite those two.
Now Jupiter wanted to take her as wife?
It promised nothing good, and clearly Zeus did hate the idea.
"What a fascinating idea!"
It was not.
Well, Jupiter may find it good; the Roman part loved power more than he loved the carnal activities. He may very well be able to stay relatively faithful to his new wife.
But if it was going to work, it would guarantee the importance of Zeus was suppressed for the majority of the time.
Needless to say, the Greek aspect of the God she had called brother and husband wasn't going to enjoy that at all.
"You are mocking me."
"And you came to insult me while drunk."
"This is your last chance, Queen of the Peacocks!"
"Enjoy your new Council, while you have the ability to attend it, Zeus."
And this time, yes, she ended her repartee by stabbing him.
The dream disintegrated.
The golden gate was nowhere in sight.
The last thing she heard before waking up in her cabin aboard the Inevitable Doom was a genuine scream of pain which brought a smile on her lips.
1 February 2007, the Isle at the end of the Line, Sea of Monsters
For an island that was so difficult to access, it seemed to be almost boring.
There was a small bay permitting a safe anchorage.
The beach, with its white sand, could have been used for touristic ads.
It wasn't going to happen, of course; Perseus had no wish to disturb the giant sea tortoises that were currently nesting on it.
Overall, it was very much the opposite of the location Commodus had chosen to host his ridiculous games: untouched by the hand of man.
There were plenty of fruit trees marking the end of the beach, and plenty of colourful birds were flying between them.
"Perseus, are you sure we're in the right place?"
"No need to worry, Dakota."
The former Tyrant checked his three compasses though, it wouldn't do to have failed to read the signs.
"Yes, we're on the correct island. As for the right place...it is just a few hundreds of metres from our current position. I am beginning to feel it."
"What is there to feel?" Ethan grouched behind him. "We have-"
"Ah, here it is."
The trees ended, the pressure became more intense, and the landscape became rockier than in any part on the island.
"Err...I don't see anything."
"Oh, how careless of me!" the red-eyed Demigod grinned, drawing his sword. "Reveal!"
Reality shivered, before bending the knee.
The effect was both significant and underwhelming.
The skies and the earth didn't change.
However.
Now, in front of them, where there had been only a barren pile of rocks...there stood an immense stele of obsidian colour.
"Ah, better," the son of Poseidon spoke as he stretched out. "Yes, it is exactly as I imagined it."
"This is...this is a sort of stele."
"Yes, yes, it is, my treacherous lieutenant."
The bird had fallen silent. The animals, he was sure, were looking at them.
"And what is? A marker to keep the Primordials' Curses at bay? A warning that if we've trespassed, a tribe of savage cannibals is going to hunt us down for the rest of our existence?"
Perseus chuckled.
"And they say that I have a vivid imagination." He shook his head. "No Dakota, it's nothing of the sort. I'm not sure you can read it, since you're Roman, but surely, you recognise these are Greek carvings."
"These are...they look like names...the elements have damaged a lot of it, though."
"Yes, they did."
"I will repeat my question, what it is?"
"Unless I'm very wrong? It is the marker the Argonauts used to tell the world the last island they landed onto before abandoning their Quest."
"Err...we're not at the end of the Sea of Monsters?"
"Does adventure ever had an end?" the Demigod who had once been named Kairos Theodosian mused philosophically. "Besides, the treasure of the Sea of Monsters always was all the friendships we made across the way."
"One day, my mother is going to smack you around for that," Ethan Nakamura drawled. "She doesn't like Demigods who have too much luck."
"It is not luck; it's skill."
"Err...not to ruin the moment, but what does the stele say in the first place?"
"Oh, it invokes the name of the Olympians, and says they have done their utmost, but they can't continue. The Argonauts have...let's see...yes, they did have only twenty-one members left, and since Medea is mentioned here, I believe these are not even the original members of the crew."
"The Argonauts were fifty when they began their Great Quest." The son of Nemesis calmly noted. "They truly endured catastrophic losses to get so far."
"They used the entrance of the Clashing Rocks to enter the Sea of Monsters, and I have a feeling it only got worse from there."
"It is all interesting, from an historical perspective, of course. But that doesn't explain why we are here!"
"Oh, I thought it was evident."
"Clearly, it is not."
"You're all horrible lieutenants," when in doubt, blame your subordinates. What could go wrong? "Watch and learn."
Perseus took two steps forwards.
"My name," the Tyrant laughed, "is Perseus Jackson, son of the Earthshaker. I am the one who went to Hell three times. I slew a Drakon, I challenged Titans, Gigantes and Gods."
And the Sea of Monsters listened to him.
"I became a Champion, and I threw everything aside to become an Adjudicator. I survived a Challenge, and I gave away mantles for divine claimants. I engineered an Apotheosis, and I took as little as possible for myself."
His sword of Stygian Iron stabbed the base of the stele.
"I conquered the Sea of Monsters. I am the King of Pirates!"
The Sea of Monsters roared; it was angry and defiant. It had known no master, and would never tolerate one. The blue sky was melting away, with bad weather arriving from every direction.
"I quit."
Perseus threw the straw hat he had brought upon his sword's hilt, and enjoyed the extreme confusion of the thunderous sentience of the Zone Mortalis.
"I quit. I took what I wanted from the Sea of Monsters, and with my enemies defeated and Olympus willing to give me diplomatic immunity for one more year, I have no need of Kingship."
The trap had been beautiful, one had to admit.
Someone like Blackbeard wouldn't have realised the danger until it was too late.
But he wasn't Blackbeard or any other pirate.
Perseus Jackson laughed in front of the black stele, and many rainbow-coloured parrots decided to imitate his laugh.
It worked.
The Sea of Monsters calmed down. The paradise-like conditions returned.
"Was it really necessary?"
"Yes, it was."
CRASH!
Many rocks fell, and suddenly a large stone stairs that had been hidden for millennia was revealed on the right of the obsidian structure.
"Should we-"
"There's no more danger, so yes, we will assuredly do it."
There were only a few steps, just enough to call it 'stairs'; there was no need for torches or anything to illuminate the path.
And clearly, there had been magical spells at work, given the utter absence of dust and other elements indicating the ravages of time.
"You spoke of a treasure, but I see...I don't see any gold."
"You speak truly, my treacherous lieutenant."
Their eyes got used to the lack of light really fast, and they were free to examine the oval-shaped room they had arrived to.
"Here it is, my friends. The treasure Argonauts and pirates alike have failed to find in all these years."
"Err...Perseus? It is...It is just an immense alcohol reserve!"
And Dakota was doing his best to not be tempted by it, which was almost admirable.
"It is not an alcohol reserve, my drunken lieutenant."
"Oh, good."
"It is the rum cellar! It is the stuff of legends! It is the cellar where all the best rum bottles taken by the sea end up, safely stored away!"
Some of the stuff had to be preserved since the Greeks began to trade overseas with other people. Others were more recent, straight from the Golden Age of Piracy. A few brands looked very recent.
"Rum? The great treasure of the Zone Mortalis was an entire room filled with bottles of rum?"
"My treacherous lieutenant, we were pirates! Of course it would be rum! It is a man's dream!"
Ethan and Dakota groaned together. Perseus grinned. Music to his ears? Yes, it was.
And seriously, yes, it was very much a treasure.
A single bottle here was worth a fortune as a collector's item.
Many were quite unique.
He had seen the list of 'collector beverages' thanks to a few Telekhines contacts, and one or two bottles here looked like they could be sold for a lot of money if you played your cards right.
Perseus wasn't going to do it, of course.
It was his treasure, and he had won it fair and square.
The rum could be reserved for some very spectacular celebrations with the souls he liked.
"I should have expected something like this, I suppose." Ethan sighed. "This adventure was crazy; it makes sense it ends with a ridiculous outcome. Rum!"
"The rum was just the cherry on top of the friendships we swore across our long and perilous adventure!"
Perseus cackled.
In hindsight, he may have laughed a bit too much.
When they departed the island, the rest of the Suicide Squad unanimously agreed to call it 'Laugh Tale', against his wise guidance.
2 February 2007, Auric Base, somewhere in the Philippines Archipelago
Sometimes, Lityerses wondered if escaping the Underworld had been such a good idea.
At the time, he had thought it was an excellent one. The son of Demeter could be honest about that.
Asphodel was dreadfully boring, and Lityerses had never enjoyed boredom.
He needed battles to feel alive. He needed a challenge. He needed duels. He needed to wage battles and feel alive in the thick of legendary duels on par with the single Great Quest he had accomplished several millennia ago.
His sister Zoe had not shared his opinion. She had told him he would eventually regret his decision. She had stayed behind in the grey plains of Asphodel.
She had been right, of course.
Boredom was a thing of the past, but it didn't mean life had suddenly become pleasant.
Why?
It was evident.
The answer could be summed-up in one word: Midas.
His father. His genitor. The man who had achieved legendary fame by being given the power to change everything he touched into gold.
And as surely all people who had ever met him agreed: an awful human being.
Lityerses reaped lives again for his father.
He hadn't exactly a choice: his escape from the Underworld had been made possible under the condition he swore a vow of allegiance on the Styx itself the moment he gained a second body.
"Ah, gold! The first step to Orichalcum! The purity of the immortality made metal!"
The scene was almost shameful, as his father caressed a large pile of bullion.
Lityerses tried to find anything to occupy his mind.
He turned up with exactly nothing.
The ranks after ranks of the soldiers present in the Auric Base were waiting, with a smile upon their lips.
So was his half-sister Hana.
Yes, he had a new sister, of this he had been informed right as he left the Underworld.
Unfortunately, Hana had been just as defiant as Zoe, if not more.
Unlike what had happened centuries ago, however, Midas wasn't in the mood anymore to tolerate dissent anymore.
And now he had the dreaded Motivator Implants.
Yes, the devices had been designed and mass-produced by Midas himself.
Just for that, Lityerses sometimes dreamed of cutting apart his genitor in a thousand pieces.
The sight of thousands of grown men and women smiling in ecstasy like it was an immense pleasure to serve for a man who would not hesitate to sacrifice them the moment one of his whims demanded it...it made the son of Demeter seethe.
Reaping was an act which demanded to know the worth of your opponent.
Reaping demanded you gave enemies and allies a chance to best you.
With the Motivator Implants, there was nothing of the sort.
"Ah, this investment in many gold mines is paying off superbly. Who cares about a few blood diamonds going missing and some methodically chosen Australian magnates being eliminated? Gold is mine! Gold is life!"
This time, Hana gave him a glance.
This gave him a slightest hope.
A hope the personality of Hana hadn't been completely erased by the dual effect of ecstasy rewards and intolerably painful punishments.
It was alas only a hope.
Lityerses had known her for too little time before she received her Motivator Implant. He knew she was a daughter of Eris, and as her beautiful traits made it evident, the Goddess of Discord must have been in a Japanese mood when the coupling affair happened.
It was precious little, and there was no way to know more, not with Midas eager to transform her into 'Agent H' a deadly assassin who was clad in a black bodysuit.
Lityerses had seen Hana kill a dozen men in the same number of seconds as easily as she breathed.
It had not felt like reaping...it had just been butchery. In fact-
"Gold is one of the precious things that makes this dreadful world tolerable! But I forget myself! Come in, come in, Prometheus."
Lityerses blinked, and placed a hand upon his sword.
He had not-
In a heartbeat, a shadow emerged from a nearby wall, one which rapidly coalesced to reveal itself as a tall man in a tuxedo suit.
The scars of the face made it clear that it was no mere man.
It was Prometheus, Titan of Crafty Counsel.
And Lityerses had not had a clue he was there. This was something that was bad. The Auric Base was filled with extremely sophisticated detection technology, but not a single alarm had shrieked to give a warning.
How long had the Titan been here?
"I think you enjoy gold a bit too much, Midas." The Titan gave out a thin smile.
"As long as you don't offer me a suitable stockpile of Orichalcum, Prometheus, consider your opinion duly ignored," his father replied with his usual rudeness. "Why did you come here?"
"I thought that was obvious." The Titan appeared to raise an eyebrow from behind his expensive glasses. "Commodus was a useful tool."
Lityerses saw his father click his fingers. It was a command, and he obeyed.
"Commodus was a fool," the Reaper of Men affirmed completely truthfully. "He had an extraordinary amount of resources, incredibly dangerous assets, and the possibility to become a God if he proved patient for a few days. But he was a fool. He taunted and challenged a son of Poseidon who was ten times more dangerous than him, and he paid the price. Narcissist, from the moment he raped Huntresses to his final demise; Commodus should be the image to go with 'failure' in every dictionary."
Midas clapped his hands in approval. Naturally, Hana and the thousand-plus soldiers of the Auric Base applauded a second later.
It didn't bring Lityerses any satisfaction.
"It's true Commodus failed to follow a few of my instructions." The son of Demeter gave Prometheus an unconvinced expression. It was so marked the Titan sighed and corrected himself. "Yes, he ignored most of my instructions, except on the last day. And by this point, it was far too late for him."
Lityerses didn't add one more word. He had made his point clear, no?
"Commodus was an imperfect tool." Prometheus began again. "But some of his crossbreeding experiments have revolutionised the field. He disastrously failed in the end. He is punished by the three not-so-Kindly Ones as we speak, who are busy teaching him that high regeneration abilities are very much not a good thing when you are tortured. But he proved that certain concepts theorised by the Coalition were very much practical under the right circumstances."
"Practical?" this time, it was his father who voiced his disapproval. "Commodus didn't even manage to get the fifty Thespiades under his domination. The Virgin Goddess didn't incarnate in the vessel chosen for her. We didn't get to see if Commodus was going to implode under the power he usurped or if he had the time to get smashed around by Hercules."
"But as Perseus Jackson proved, the basic ritual indeed managed to create a true Claimant." The Titan removed his glasses and went on to clean them with a delicate handkerchief.
Why did an immortal with perfect vision bother with glasses anyway?
"It was just not the one we wanted or even had considered a single time," Midas mocked his 'ally'.
"Are you able to predict Perseus Jackson's actions?"
This forced his father to shut his mouth immediately.
"No, I didn't think so. So far, only the Sire of the Drakons has proven able to do so."
"He can be surprised, even if he is an Oracle!"
Prometheus' expression, for an instant, flashed with anger. The red eyes were tainted with folly, and a burning wind slammed into the different halls of the Auric Base.
"I didn't hear any of you warning me about these eternally-cursed penguins."
Lityerses hid his amusement behind a sneer.
Midas snorted.
"Many in the Coalition already believed we moved too fast, too soon. Like the Triumvirate, we have revealed our presence to Olympus. The Olympians are still extremely strong. Many have fallen from their Thrones, but their Pantheon retains a lot of powerhouses. They haven't fractured enough to my taste. While the decline is significant, even in their decline they remain far stronger than the Coalition."
"If you wait for their decline to arrive to its natural conclusion, you know what will happen."
"Yes, yes, the accursed Prophecy will send all of us scurrying in the shadows, trying to survive under the ruins of Olympus."
"Indeed. With great vulnerabilities, great opportunities manifest themselves."
Lityerses didn't understand half of what they were saying.
What Prophecy were they talking about? The only one he knew of was about a child of the Eldest Gods reaching sixteen against all odds. And yeah, this one told about a choice which could safeguard Olympus, or topple it.
But it didn't fit anywhere in what his father was doing, save perhaps the 'ruins of Olympus' part. Midas hated Apollo with a passion for 'gifting' him donkey ears...
"You want to have an official meeting of our key members? What convinces you that they will come?"
"The Age of Mediocrity is burning, and we have Commodus and Perseus Jackson to thank for that. If they still sleep, maybe it is time to find new Lords of the Coalition to change the world, Midas."
Lityerses was the Reaper of Men. He had been nicknamed 'Death' by half of the heroes of New Athens in his time. The son of Demeter had honestly forgotten about how many duels he had won in his life.
Still, as the words of Prometheus were uttered, Lityerses felt fear for the first time in a long time.
And yes, Motivator Implants or not, all the men and women of the Auric Base felt it too.
4 February 2007, somewhere in the Amazonian Forest
With the benefit of hindsight, yes, it had been only a question of time until Jenna snapped.
Seriously, Ellen hadn't expected a crowd of ten of thousand cheering and singing her name. This wasn't the way of the Hunt.
No, the Huntress had not thought they would be lavished with praises and raised to be Lieutenants above other Huntresses. There had been too many ugly deaths during this Great Quest, and the shadow of Panther Kowalski and those Huntresses transformed into Nemean Lionesses would take a long, long time to disappear.
But Ellen had desired the approval of the Goddess nonetheless. They had risked their lives and their sanity in these murderous Games, and in the end, the Great Quest was successful.
That should have counted for something.
Instead, they had been spirited away from the Super-Mega-Yacht Inevitable Doom by a beam of moonlight.
There had been no warning, and the interval of time they'd been in presence of Lady Artemis must have been inferior to five seconds. And now that she thought really about it, Ellen knew five seconds may be too generous.
There had been no praises. There had been no thanks or congratulations.
There was silence, and an expression of disappointment.
And there were thrown in the equivalent of 'boot camp', in the depths of the Amazonian forest, fighting against dangerous snakes for the right to have a few hours of sleep.
It was...dreadful.
It was unpleasant.
It could have been tolerable if everyone did it, but it was not so.
Ellen and Jenna were singled out.
That was evident from the very beginning.
The other Huntresses, their so-called 'reinforcements' of the Coliseum had taken back their place inside the forces of the Hunt with not a single murmur of accusation.
Yes.
With the benefit of hindsight, it wasn't too surprising Jenna snapped.
The big surprise, in fact, was that it had taken so long.
"You call that archery? Surely your bow must mourn-"
SMACK!
Yes, that was the sound of a fist meeting the jaw of a Huntress.
"Stop her!" the bitch who had insulted her friend screeched as Jenna went on to give a lesson she would never forget.
"Don't intervene," Ellen commanded, having an arrow ready to shoot.
"She is your superior!"
"Superior in what?" She asked as Jenna punched repeatedly the other girl. "Lucinda was absolutely useless in the Coliseum, and the only saving grace was that after the Third Labour, she shut down her damn mouth and stopped her volunteering to spread discord in Team Adjudicator. As far as I can see, the only way she is superior to us is her arrogance."
In fact, given the way Jenna was overpowering her, Lucinda was honestly far weaker than her friend. And she wasn't that good at archery either.
Of course, all good things came to an end.
In that case, the other girls shouted like the cowards they were, and the agitation made sure Nightshade arrived within a minute.
By this time, it must be insisted, Lucinda had received enough marks that even with the blessings of the Huntresses, she was going to need several days of rest before resuming her duties.
"STOP THIS!"
It took three Huntresses to force Jenna to comply.
"What in the name of the Moon were you thinking, you...you..."
Under the rain, the Chief Lieutenant of Artemis was glaring at them like she had never seen them before.
"I can't speak for my friend," Ellen said quietly. "But speaking for myself, I think that what I feel can be said in one word: enough. Enough of all this."
"Lady Artemis saved you!"
"No." Jenna spat out. "No, and this is the problem, isn't it? We weren't saved. Panther and the others weren't saved by Lady Artemis. When Jade called out to her, the Great Huntress never came. There was no salvation. We had to save ourselves."
"You see?" Quite evidently, Jenna hadn't struck hard enough, because Lucinda had still enough strength to squeak out her accusations. "You see? It is as I told you! They have been contaminated by the males! The vile Demigod corrupted them like he did the others!"
"Yes, I see this clearly." Zoë Nightshade approved.
Ellen at this moment felt all her respect for the girl die.
"I understand now," she almost didn't recognise her own voice. "You didn't want us back into the Hunt. You just wanted scapegoats to feel righteous and blame anyone but the Goddess and your fellow Huntresses!"
"You shut up, your penguin-lover!"
Jenna exploded into laughter, despite being neutralised by four Huntresses.
"The penguins were more useful in the key battles than any Huntress ever was!"
Someone punched her, but it only encouraged her to howl her savage joy.
"It hurts, doesn't it? The penguins have done far better than the Hunt! Well, except for Kimiko, I suppose. She had the privilege to sabotage Commodus' ritual and pave the way to our victory!"
"She committed the worst sin imaginable!" Zoë was suddenly there, holding Jenna by the throat, and for a second, Ellen feared the Lieutenant was going to strangle her sister-in-all-but-blood.
Fortunately, it lasted just a couple of seconds.
"You should be ashamed." Nightshade hissed.
"For what?" It was her turn to snap, this time. "For having the incredible temerity to not die when the Gods ordered us to? For using a small fraction of our brains when we were cornered in a no-win situation in front of the Narcissist Predator? For preferring some ugly compromises instead of going overboard and disappearing forever into the depths of the Seas of Monsters like thousands of pirates did?"
"You stand accused," Lucinda's hatred was all-consuming, "of not killing Perseus Jackson like you were ordered to!"
For a few seconds, there was just the sound of the rain pouring over their heads. They were here, in the middle of the large puddles, taking an improvised shower.
But it wasn't important.
They all knew it had come too far to stop here.
Well, better torch everything.
By the maws of the sea monsters, it wasn't like the fifty or sixty Huntresses present didn't deserve it.
"Jackson was right." Yes, Ellen knew there was no return possible from it. "The Hunt has truly become an Evil Lesbian Cult in every way which matters."
"Take that back!" Lucinda shrieked.
"Make me, you flat-chested bimbo," Ellen provoked her.
The Huntress indeed jumped. But Ellen was ready, and a powerful strike knocked out Lucinda for good this time.
"Nice punch," Jenna complimented her.
"Why, thank you, sister."
Ellen wasn't going to lie, it felt good. Yes, there were glares of hatred and expressions of disdain coming from every direction, but at least, the hypocrisy was over.
The masks had fallen.
Artemis had never intended to give them a true chance to return to the Hunt; all the Goddess had wanted was a couple of targets for the Huntresses to feel good.
The Hunt was not to think about everything that had gone out of control during this Great Quest. No blame had to be thrown at the feet of the Goddess or the brainwashing which made sure Lieutenants fell in incredibly predictable traps the moment they came into view.
"You are not part of the Hunt anymore."
Jenna chuckled.
"Jackson saved the Hunt and the Moon, you know? During the Labours, I think he could have won without returning all the stolen power...he prevented the ritual of 'Neo Diana' from coming to completion." The hilarity ended like a button had been switched off. "I know that no girl deserves to be raped and defiled like all our sisters were, but damn, I understand why several Demigods had trouble caring about your fate. You make it all so easy to hate you..."
"The males are pigs!"
"Many are," Ellen intervened, "but not all."
"When did you began to lick Jackson's boots, traitor?"
"You aren't asking if I licked something else? For yourself, it's evident you spent your time worshipping the furred boots of the Goddess!"
"I did not touch her boots!"
"Next time, sister, she is going to tell me she isn't part of a Cult!"
"We aren't part of a Cult!"
The bickering went out of control, and Ellen acknowledged she wasn't sorry at all to listen to it.
After so many weeks listening to the Suicide Squad's conventional and innovative insults, the Huntress discovered how Nightshade and the others were reacting to proper taunts and comical provocations.
The answer, by the way, was 'horribly'.
"ENOUGH! THIS IS UNBECOMING OF THE HUNT!"
"OSTRACA."
Ellen suddenly felt all her strength fail her.
Her knees splashed in the water puddle before her.
What was-
Her eyes widened as a small orb of silver light came out of her chest.
"Ellen, daughter of Eunomia. Jenna, Legacy of Tyche. I consider the vows you swore to me null and void. I cast you out of the Hunt, never to return."
Ellen wanted to stand and scream her anger.
But she couldn't move. She was completely paralysed.
Powerless.
Absolutely powerless, like she had been in her childhood.
It was awful.
She couldn't do anything.
She could do nothing as the girls around her broke ritually her bow and her arrows, tore apart her clothes, and laughed while doing it.
"I will have my revenge," she muttered. "I swear it."
The rain continued to drown them.
It felt like days passed, but in all likelihood, it was just hours.
The weakness faded partially, and Ellen was able to crawl.
Crawl to reach Jenna, who seemed to have endured the entire ordeal worse than she was.
"I don't feel the Moon anymore..."
"I know. I don't feel it either." Ellen admitted out loud.
She heard Jenna sob. Or was it a laugh?
"I don't regret saying it."
"I know. I didn't regret my words either. If they think their stupidity will protect them the next time...well, it's their delusion. I am not going to jump into the trap the next Commodus will have prepared for the Hunt."
It took many minutes to be able to feel their legs could carry them.
By then, of course, they realised how alone they were.
The camp where they had been humiliated and insulted for the last days was utterly empty.
Abandoned.
There were no more tents or any equipment, save the broken items which had once belonged to them.
And of that...
"The bitches destroyed everything we cared about."
"I think they didn't like the revelation they were members of the 'Evil Lesbian Cult', sister."
"Isn't that the truth!" Jenna managed to laugh. "We were really fools all along, were we?"
"We wanted to believe the Hunt was a home and a refuge. But it was never that."
They were called Huntresses. They weren't called 'Protectors', 'Defenders of the Righteous', or 'Noble Female Knights'.
They were Huntresses. They hunted some monsters, and the beings which the Goddess of the Hunt found an insult to her taste.
"Bitches! They left us half-naked, with no weapons and no supplies. I thought participants of a Great Quest were to be rewarded..."
"I think that the hypocrites that pretended to be our sisters are going to proclaim the Lady mercifully left us alive."
"You're right, it's exactly the sort of thing they will pretend." Jenna spat. "All right. We aren't part of the Hunt anymore...but we still have some divine parentage. We can find a refuge behind the walls of New Byzantium. I will...I will curse these backstabbers we called 'reinforcements' later."
"It sure feels that if Commodus hadn't been so awful, I wouldn't feel bad about suggesting they may be thrown into the arena against hungry lions."
"Yeah."
"New Byzantium is far away. We're really in the middle of nowhere."
"One day, the Hunt will pay for all the girls it has abandoned like broken dolls when it had no use for them anymore," Ellen swore. "And I swear that by the time we will pass the gates, I will do my utmost to bribe the penguins so that they repeat 'Evil Lesbian Cult' wherever they go..."
"It's that, or 'Hunting Bitches'," Jenna gathered back her hair into a poor ponytail. "And I'm strangely fine with it."
5 February 2007, C.C's Spa and Resort, Sea of Monsters
The flamboyant rise of the sun over the horizon was spectacular.
Today, it was not getting her attention.
Not when there was a son of Poseidon kissing a daughter of Hecate, while a daughter of Athena was participating in the embrace.
"Quite an unlikely trio, isn't it?" Circe mused next to her.
Medea didn't answer.
"One day, you will have to bury the past, Medea."
"Maybe one day," she grumbled. "For now, my priorities are elsewhere. What is in the chest Perseus Jackson dragged ashore?"
"If I was a romantic Goddess and Perseus Jackson was a normal Demigod, I would have said he would leave her his heart." The Mistress of C.C's Spa and Resort replied. "But I am not, and this is Perseus Jackson we're talking about. In all likelihood, it is a highly sophisticated long-range communication system which will allow the two to contact each other regularly."
"And you don't intend to raise a ruckus about it? I remember you breaking plenty of things you didn't like when you took Apprentices in the old days."
"I don't, as long as the Apprentice is sufficiently wise to not be distracted by it."
Circe intended to make a large investment out of Lou Ellen Blackstone, then. Perhaps one as huge as Medea had been, an eternity ago, when she visited the Sea of Monsters for the first time.
"You intend to give her the full 'Immortal Sorceress course', then." Arguably, the times were dangerous for all sorceresses, Medea herself was the living evidence of that reality.
But that Circe had decided to go with it was remarkable nonetheless. Fewer than ten witches had ever received the offer from the Goddess of Illusions and Transformations.
"Yes." Medea knew instinctively Circe was going to change the subject now. "They've achieved what your crew couldn't do."
"I haven't thought of them as my crew in a very long time," Medea admitted.
And yes, it was the truth.
It didn't hurt that much anymore. Time had a way to mend your wounds, and most of the Argonauts were dead now.
Castor and Pollux remained, and obviously Hercules was still around. She'd heard the sons of Boreas had received immortality in the end too. Apparently, the comic relief always survived when others fell.
The others? They were dead, and many times Medea had wished she could be with them in dark times.
The Love Curse that had led her to join the Argonauts had been a lie, but what she had lived aboard the crew had been real.
For the first time, she, the Princess of Colchis, had had true friends.
Her eyes fell upon the immense white ship that was anchored in the distance.
For a few seconds, Medea didn't see the Inevitable Doom, the ship which had survived the wrath of a Titaness and several extreme dangers.
No, for some short amount of time, she was seeing back the Argo in all its glory.
And her heart filled with melancholy.
"It is not too late, you know."
The Immortal Sorceress knew Circe wasn't speaking about this accursed Centaur form she had been cursed with.
"They are dead. We all died on...the Argonauts died there. We just pretended to not notice, but we as Questers died in the Sea of Monsters. When we sailed out, we were broken remnants of what had been the strongest group of heroes and heroines ever assembled. We pretended for a time. But we were just going through the motions."
Medea closed her eyes for a moment. She wasn't going to cry. Tears had never done anything to solve one of her problems anyway.
"Of course," she tried a more ironic tone, "I suppose we never considered the possibility of putting the craziest Demigod of the crew in charge. Nor did we consider that the most idiotic members were going to be the strongest assets, when used unpredictably."
"I don't think anyone truly saw it coming. Not really. It took them taking over the Forge from the cold dead maw of the Primordial Drakon, and even then..."
On the beach below them, the embrace and the kisses were over. Their young half-sister was marching towards them, chest in her hands, and she wasn't looking back. Medea admired the determination of Lou Ellen Blackstone, if nothing else.
"I must point out that you didn't offer an Apprenticeship to the daughter of the Dark One."
"Do I look like I lost my sanity in the last hours, sister?" Circe looked at her perfect purple nails. "The Lightning Thief doesn't need any formal magical instruction from me. I had to use half of my non-divine form to crush her as fast as possible. That's just unprecedented for a young Demigoddess of her age. Besides, I am not in the habit of training a viper that could turn her fangs against me. Perseus Jackson thinks he can control this one? I leave the privilege to him."
"That's probably the best course of action, yes." The Princess of Colchis said out loud. "By the Pit, she managed to temporarily alter an artefact that the Titan of Crafty Counsel considered one of his most malicious tricks."
The Cauldron which had been used to create the First Lycanthrope was not a child's toy. It was a redoubtable weapon, and one the majority of mortal wizards and witches in this world would be unable to manipulate without being transformed into werewolves themselves.
"But in the end, the Titan couldn't have accomplished it without the Bane."
"Yet you stayed silent, and didn't inform the Suicide Squad."
Medea breathed out.
"You think I was wrong?"
"Perseus Jackson is resourceful, and he has proven his ability to dispose of such threats." Circe's tone was neutral, but the fact they were speaking about a male Demigod and she wasn't cursing his name spoke volumes about the son of Poseidon.
"Not like...the monster is cunning, and did not earn the title of Bane of our mother for nothing." The Princess-turned-Centaur grimaced. "In hindsight, I shouldn't be surprised this enemy is part of the Coalition. He was there to defeat us, Argonauts. He has always been there to be the Bane of the children of Magic. Of course he would be acting behind the scenes to bring the downfall of more Demigods and the last survivors of the Argonauts."
"As long as he is alive, the odds of you breaking the Curse and returning to your normal body are very slim."
"I know." At first, she had been in denial, but when your spells all told you the same answer, this wasn't an option. "And the longer the Curse is active, the more difficult it will be. It is not exactly impossible that within a year, I will need to craft a true Curse to forge a human body, assuming of course I can kill the Bane."
Yes, it had been something deliberate from Prometheus and Commodus.
No, Medea didn't believe for a single second the Titan and his lackey had ever considered a noble goal to justify their ignoble actions.
"The Coalition promises to be a particularly dangerous and amoral enemy which makes our allies of the Triumvirate look like humble, modest, and caring rulers."
"Is it surprising?" Circe asked. "There's a reason why I decided to take a true Apprentice once more. The years to come are going to be very dangerous, and we, the daughters of Magic, are going to need all the allies we can rally to our side."
In the future, Medea and many others would agree that the words had been particularly prescient.
Madness was coming.
And despite the folly that had spread during the Adjudicator Games, they weren't ready for it.
6 February 2007, Super-Mega Yacht Inevitable Doom, departing C.C's Spa and Resort
It felt strange reporting to Jackson.
Kimiko had been used obeying the orders of Phoebe like they came from the Goddess' mouth herself...but Phoebe was long dead, and the connection between the Moon and her soul had been severed forever.
It was something difficult to describe.
The former Huntress wasn't going to say it akin to a slavery collar being broken, nor was it something she would equal to absolute freedom...it was different, that was all.
Jackson was looking at the window when she entered. Or rather, he was looking through the glass at the island disappearing several nautical miles away.
His expression was as far removed from the grins the Suicide Squad was used to as it was possible to.
"The Great Admiral Perseus Jackson, feeling melancholic?"
The red eye immediately turned towards her.
His tongue clicked.
"Melancholia may be an apt term, or it may not be." The Demigod who had ensured Commodus died twice answered before falling upon one of the seats of the conference room, all the while waving at her to imitate him.
Wordlessly, Kimiko did as she was told.
"But I'm sure you didn't come to ponder with me deep philosophical questions."
"No," Kimiko confirmed. "My tongue has returned to its normal appearance, and the tail disappeared this morning. You held your part of the bargain."
The black-haired girl stuck her tongue out, and touched the reason of her good fortune.
It was a simple ring.
It was the ring piercing her tongue.
And even with eyes closed, Kimiko felt it was brimming with power.
"It is good to see that in that regard, everything went according to my plan." Kimiko did raise an eyebrow, because the voice remained flat, absolutely empty of gloating. "I theorised from the start that while Nocturna's transformation was irreversible, all the Curses the Sire of the Drakons had spread all over the Forge of All Perils may not be so permanent. One way to remove them was for the God of the Sun's sworn enemy to remove them in person, of course. The other, far more delicate, was to overwrite the first curse with another, one sufficiently powerful to grind down the enchantment by sheer power."
"In other words, accomplish where the Gorgon sisters had failed when they decided to get Possessed by the Eidolons."
"Exactly."
"How confident were you that it was going to work?"
"I was confident enough that the person who was destined to use it at first was no one but myself."
That, at least, surprised her completely.
"You?"
"Me. Don't be surprised, oh Legacy of Harmonia."
Kimiko sighed. Having revealed her lineage to someone not of the Hunt didn't take long from slamming back in her face.
"Fine, I am just confused. This kind of powerful artefact is clearly very rare and unique; it must be very ancient."
"The Telekhines forged it, and I helped for the finishing touches when it became evident you were going to be the recipient of it, not me."
The former Huntress didn't know how long she stayed there, gaping.
"You did what?"
"I convinced the Telekhines to forge an Orichalcum ring," Perseus Jackson replied smoothly, his eyes staring at something far away from the Inevitable Doom." They have the expertise, and we had just enough metal for this ring. From there, I, using my past knowledge and plenty of talents that I won't bore you with, cast a ritual to make that ring a receptacle which will slowly absorb the sloth of different beings into it."
Kimiko stopped sticking her tongue out and closed her mouth.
She didn't ask if the Ring was going to be removed now; the answer was incredibly evident.
"What sort of changes can I expect in the days to come?"
"Right now? None. I sealed the power of the Ring of Sloth before we healed you with the Golden Fleece. I wasn't sure of the physical or mental consequences, never mind the magical ones, and it wasn't the time to test it."
"That's very generous of you."
Though she was sure there were going to be problems-
"It isn't going to last." Yes, of course, nothing could be that good and free of consequences.
"Give me the bad news, I can handle it."
Perseus Jackson snorted.
"We will see about that, won't we? But very well, cards on the table. The Ring of Sloth effectively creates a daemon by absorbing all the emotions which are linked to Sloth, like exhaustion, lack of interest, weakness of temperament to enact the slightest effort. Your choice is simple: you can let all the power growing on its own until it becomes independent and self-aware, which will likely need several months according to my calculations."
"Or?"
"You become the daemon." Perseus replied calmly while handing her a glass filled with fruit juice that he had levitated out of nowhere. "You take Sloth into your soul, and let the power change you."
Kimiko grimaced.
"This sounds darkly familiar. Wasn't what happened with the Eidolons possessing the Gorgons?"
"It would be if you're letting a daemon inside the Ring grow self-aware, and then try to absorb all the power into yourself." The son of Poseidon smiled. "Which would be a stupid idea, by the way."
"That's not reassuring." The former Huntress remarked before passing both hands in her long black hair, all the while she was frowning. "I presume there are going to be physical and mental changes."
"Yes." At least the leader of the Suicide Squad didn't pretend otherwise. "Though I think we will able to have a certain amount of control over the physical changes. The mental ones...well, I won't sugar-coat things: you will be slothful. A lot."
"Fantastic," and no, it really wasn't. "What do you gain in all of this?"
"Well, first, I was able to kill Commodus and not having to kill his Nemean Lionesses' protectors in the process. You will have to admit, I fulfilled more than my part of the bargain here. Your friends escaped free with Piper McLean, forever free from this rapist."
That was...a good point damn it.
"But yes, I have to admit I had another reason, as important. I want control."
"You had control for most of this Great Quest." Kimiko replied hesitantly. Seriously, most of the time the 'everything went according to the plan' was the truth, no matter how impossible it should be.
"Aphrodite cursed me with Lust."
Ah. Oh yeah, she'd almost forgotten this one.
"Unfortunately, while what I did inside the Coliseum was sufficient to appease the Goddess, it was not sufficient to convince her to cancel the Curse altogether. I feel the Lust inside me. It is dormant at the moment, but it can reawaken at any moment. When we will back at New Byzantium, behind safe walls, it won't be that much of a problem. But during a Great Quest, should I be mentally or physically compromised in the middle of a battle-"
"It could spell disaster for all the Questers," the former Huntress finished. "Yes, I see. You want what I will become to be a rampart against Lust if it is necessary."
"Yes. Naturally, I am largely going to pay for your services. While we will be at New Byzantium, all your equipment and living expenses will be paid by my accounts."
"In effect, I will be one of your vassals."
She wasn't going to lie; the whole offer was tempting, very tempting.
Still, there was something she had on the tip of her tongue, and no, it wasn't a joke.
"What happens if your Lust overwhelms my Sloth?" Kimiko paused for a second. "I don't want to sound like I'm defenceless or anything, but I have to be realistic, Jackson. I am a Legacy, and not of a very powerful Goddess at that. You, on the other hand, are the son of the ruler of the Seas, and a particularly powerful Demigod who took a sliver of the Sun, bathed in Titan's blood, and took more boons besides it."
"It is a risk; I am not going to lie." That was not- "Though I have also discussed various counter-measures with Lou Ellen too. Obviously, right now, she doesn't have the skill or the power to cast them. But training can change a lot of things."
Kimiko grimaced deep inside her head.
She wasn't fond of the option. On the other hand, letting a pseudo-Eidolon getting more and more powerful on her very tongue was not exactly safe either.
Sooner or later – and with the Suicide Squad, it would always be sooner than later – the Ring of Sloth was going to be unsealed, and its power used, to save her life if nothing else.
The Coalition was there, into the unknown, and only an idiot would believe the death of Commodus had been the end of their ambitions.
"Fine. I will do it. I will just request the unsealing of the Ring won't be done in public. That we wait until we're in a safe place at New Byzantium."
"That I can do. Drink?"
Kimiko gaped for the second time of the conversation.
"What? Did you expect me to begin a long and dramatic monologue here and now? Or to suddenly feign my Lust activating, and how your assistance is immediately necessary? That I lied and I want to show you how 'talented' the children of Poseidon are in certain fields of Lust?"
Kimiko went instantly crimson.
"No, nothing is going to happen. Your agreement is enough right now."
"Are you sure you aren't an impostor?" the former Huntress blurted out.
"If it's an invitation to once again raise the banners of Madness and turn this Quest into a festival of holy craziness, I assure you, I have plenty of plans that have not been used so far."
"NO!" She decreased the volume of her voice. "No, no need to do some...mad things."
"Thought so," this time, the bastard was truly gloating, and it was absolutely her fault.
Damn it.
7 February 2007, the former Luxor Temple, Luxor, Aegyptus, the Reborn Domain of Isis
"I had known having a true God on our side would change things, Imperator, but I hadn't realised by how much."
"You're kind of preaching the obvious, Lucius," Marcus Antonius replied. "However, I can't deny that you're absolutely right."
When you didn't have the abilities of the immortals on your side, things were hard.
You could accumulate entire fortunes and in a few centuries, become wealthy enough to earn a title of multi-billionaire. You could buy enough land to be a very wealthy land magnate.
But with the Mist, good luck trying to convince anyone you were indeed a man who had been born centuries ago.
It was also extremely difficult to push for anti-Olympian actions when the first overt move could result in Jupiter striking you with his Master Bolt, ending your plan by virtue of nothing remaining but ashes.
All of this was true. And all of it didn't matter.
"It took five days."
"Yes."
Though to be honest, the seed had been planted in a few hours.
The five days had just been...overkill, as some Demigods of the Suicide Squad would say.
As dawn came on that day, a third of the population of Luxor had cast aside its previous religious allegiance, and acclaimed his wife as their Goddess-Pharaoh.
In mere minutes, the streets had been filled with the praises of Isis.
And from there, more men, women, and children had rallied.
And from there, Luxor belonged to Isis.
"I can't say I am exactly fond of Black Mambas, Imperator."
It wasn't a coincidence that one of said snakes was enjoying the sun in front of them at all.
"The Black Mambas are my wife's favourite animal."
Otherwise, she wouldn't have been to transform herself into one to fight Ares.
"It wasn't a criticism, Imperator."
"Oh, I know."
And Marcus went back to his humble chair, as his legs were beginning to shake again. Truly, he was very much regretting not having the Golden Fleece at his disposal.
Where certain Demigods would heal in mere minutes thanks to it, he like every one of his surviving men had to heal in a more traditional manner, one which required a lot of time.
"My wife is rebuilding the Luxor Temple as the heart of her new Domain," the former Magister explained. "In ancient times, it wasn't dedicated to a God in particular, but to the coronation of the Pharaohs."
"But she is changing that."
"Yes."
One couldn't deny the obvious, after all.
Already many of the small statues on the entrances had been entirely re-shaped as stone Mambas.
The statues of ancient Pharaohs were erased or faceless, with many beginning to be moulded anew in forms more representative of the new divine mistress owning the grounds.
The Temple was being rebuilt, but it wouldn't be a mere copy of the ancient Luxor Temple; it was going to be a true Temple-Palace, one worthy of the Goddess-Pharaoh inhabiting it.
It would be a divine construction.
Already, the Nile was cleaner and stronger than it had been in decades, and water nymphs were rotating out of it to restore walls and ancient water works to a glory that had been absent for the last centuries.
Many obelisks were rising up, while broken columns were reassembled.
Needless to say, the number of worshippers increased proportionally as a result.
There were now hundreds of thousands of people worshipping Isis, and the entire city was shimmering into lapis-lazuli and golden lights, though the effect was only magnified at the still-incomplete Temple-Palace and its surroundings.
"I see all of this Imperator, and yet I can't help but think it seems...too easy. That the Olympians are going to act. That they will strike back."
"I felt the same at the beginning." Marcus Antonius admitted truthfully. "But they can't, Lucius. As arrogant as the King of Olympus and his unworthy children can be, they have to respect the Ancient Laws. In practical terms, this means respecting the Domain of a God or a Goddess, no matter how much they dislike him or her. Isis chose to settle here, and impose her Domain upon this city and the Nile flowing on its doorstep; they can't act without receiving a lot of attention from beings higher and more powerful than them."
The Primordials of Fate and Night, specifically, didn't like it at all when you violated the Ancient Laws.
"I understand, Imperator."
Lucius really didn't, actually.
Otherwise he would understand how vulnerable Isis had been when she had been deprived of a Domain in the Coliseum.
It had also been one reason why he had not believed Jackson would really agree with the exchange before the Adjudicator Challenge came around. Marcus couldn't have tried to usurp Mars without his wife; but the Olympians would definitely have been able to keep his wife captured for long enough to change her into one minor Goddess subservient to them.
"Well, at least several of us survived," the Praetor continued. "I would say we escaped with our sanity intact, but several of the Legionnaires still believe they're destined to be peacocks to Her Supreme Majesty the Peacock Queen."
Marcus Antonius made a sound which alas too close to despair for his taste.
"Please, don't mention peacocks anymore. No matter what I do, I am unable to erase the Fourth Labour from my mind...or any of the others, for that matter."
It may have been only a game from the point of view of spectators watching it somewhere that was not the monument to Commodus' vanity, but when you were an active participant, it was a far more traumatising experience. Commodus and Perseus Jackson had made sure it would, as did Commodus and several other parties.
"Yes, best to forget the peacocks."
Lucius saluted, and fled as fast as proper Roman dignity allowed.
Marcus turned his head, and she was here.
Once again, her appearance was perfect and sublime.
Her skin was slightly tanned, and absolutely flawless. Her black hair was like one of the Nile cataracts, the flow of it continuing until it reached her hips. She wore nothing but a simple white robe of silk, and the traditional royal diadem with a Black Mamba of gold proclaiming her authority.
She looked young, exactly as she would have been when she was twenty or twenty-two.
And everything in her was Grace and Love.
Marcus didn't see her move.
He definitely felt it when her lips touched his.
It was warm, powerful, and it was like a fabled Water of Life was poured into his mouth.
"Better?"
"Better." His strength was returning far faster now.
"Oh, good," the eyes of his wife burned like enchanted lapis-lazuli. "I was testing this new power for the last minutes. I am so glad it works. And it means I won't feel guilty about that."
Instantly, a grip stronger than what any Demigod could bring to bear was tightening its grip around his arms, his legs...and something between them.
It felt like a giant serpent had its coils trying to crush him.
"Good! Now, husband, while I am perfectly flattered that you wanted to free me on the spot, I am not going to close my eyes on the stupidity of challenging Perseus Jackson to something he had evidently prepared for! Defending my honour and fighting for me can seem very noble from an outside perspective, but I would love that you refrain from idiotic gambles, especially ones where you don't have a chance of winning. Am I clear, or must I use more of my abilities to print the message in a more permanent fashion?"
"No! No, you are very clear, Isis."
"Good." The sensation of cold scales disappeared, and the pressure was lifted. "Don't do this again while there's a perfectly good alternative. I assure you that if you do, you will sleep in a very cold bed for many, many nights, and you will have a large nest of Black Mambas to keep you company."
"I...I won't."
"For your sake, I hope so." The large fangs which had been there for a few seconds disappeared as quickly as they had been summoned. "Now that we've calmly and properly discussed the state of our couple, I believe it is time we contact our fellow Triumvirs. There are plenty of matters that we must discuss with them."
9 February 2007, Super-Mega-Yacht Inevitable Doom, just outside the Forge of All Perils
It was a respectable fleet of little boats that had assembled for the Inevitable Doom's final stopover.
Obviously, some were supply boats; the crew of the Super-Mega-Yacht had eaten voraciously into its food stocks, and now they needed to refill everything, beginning with the water and ending with the sweets.
Ironically, it may be over what was necessary, as the surviving Telekhines of Team Adjudicator had 'deserted' their ranks the moment the Forge was near.
Luke wasn't going to blame them; the Twelve Labours had been pure madness, and one couldn't help but think that their commanding officer was the biggest source of craziness in the entire Zone Mortalis.
"My friends! Lend me your ears! I have dreadful news!"
"Here we go again..." Dakota groaned in despair.
"Despite my vigorous supplications, Olympus has refused to let me keep the Red October as my new submarine flagship! Something was said I couldn't be trusted with nuclear power!"
"Amen to that," Elvis Knight commented.
"Wait." Clarisse frowned. "That's good news, right? You won't be able to declare war on some innocent parties and sink all their trade ships without being noticed?"
"You're all horrible and treacherous lieutenants!" the mad Demigod proclaimed, all the while his grin didn't falter.
Luke sighed. Oh, great. That meant the 'bad news' just announced had to be the vanguard of the trouble.
"Obviously, since we are generous souls, the Commander Marko Ramius and his officers will be our honoured guests among the Expeditionary Force. The Jupiter Invictus, lacking plenty of extra-crew for some reason I can't fathom, has volunteered for the honour of transporting them to New Byzantium, free of charge."
Luke blinked. He would have thought that between the lack of Telekhines and mercenaries, the son of Poseidon would have wanted the submarine officers aboard the Inevitable Doom, but clearly he had been wrong.
Many Telekhines clapped their fins in approval...they must have been paid to do it, of course. The cardboard 'APPLAUSE' held by Annabeth was a very big hint in that direction.
"I also can announce on that glorious day that Anne Bonny is temporarily leaving our ranks, in order to pursue her dreams of Pirate Queen!"
"Permanently, Jackson," the daughter of Demeter rolled her eyes as cheers spread. "The word I used was permanently. No offense, but this adventure was just way too crazy for me. I'm returning to far less dangerous things, like sailing normal seas, pillaging the coasts, and looting everything that blue-blooded parasites deny to humble pirates."
"The world changed outside the Sea of Monsters." The grin was maniacal. "But if it's your decision, who am I to deny your request? The Bombardment Galleon is yours, try to not damage it, I have grown fond of it."
The Demigoddess merely snorted, and jumped overboard, pirate tricorn in hand.
"We're really losing plenty of our members, do we?" Miranda Gardiner's irony was incredibly obvious.
"Jackson seems convinced it is only temporary," the son of Hermes sarcastically replied. "Are you going to bet against him?"
"Oh...well, when you look at it like that, no."
Yeah, no one that was currently on the deck of the Inevitable Doom wanted to lose several Drachmas for something that was not so much a bet as a near-prophecy.
One couldn't help but think of the island they were just anchored nearby; with the blue sky, the hot touch of the yellow sun, no clouds, and all the coastal bastions the Telekhines had built in their absence, the Forge of All Perils was completely unrecognisable from the sinister icy vision they'd been granted when they discovered it.
"Now for the very good news."
"Can't we skip them?" Jade asked hopefully.
"No, you can't," Perseus declared joyfully. "Due to how efficient the comic relief...I mean, my noble duo of penguin lieutenants has proven to be, I have decided to expand their ranks! Telekhines, assemble! I want you for the Grand Penguin Battalion! Who needs bear cavalry, when you have penguin infantry?"
Naturally, several Telekhines decided discretion was the better part of valour, and immediately plunged deep, far away from the madness.
"But if you think penguin infantry is not for you, we have plenty of alternatives! We have rocker-hare reconnaissance forces!"
More Telekhines and nymphs decided to disappear into the depths of the Sea of Monsters, or outright swim away as fast as they could.
"I am also studying the incredible potential of moose cavalry!"
A Telekhine raised his fin.
"I like eating moose. It's a fine delicacy-"
"I will transform you into a fine moose, of course, proud Telekhine lieutenant-"
The sea monster understood that it was not something he wanted to be part of, and executed a long jump before combining it with a very hasty retreat.
"And finally, the ultimate striking power: the Parrot Air Force!"
More and more volunteers chose this moment to take their leave, for some unfathomable reason.
"You're going to experience some recruiting difficulties, if you want to expand the ranks of the Suicide Squad," Drew joked, as two-thirds of the small boats were now empty, and others were trying as best as possible to put the greatest distance possible between them and the madness.
"Good help is so difficult to find, these days," Perseus Jackson replied, giving a semi-disappointed glare to the daughter of Aphrodite. "But have no fear: this is only the beginning!"
"Yes," Ethan drawled. "That's what the entire world is afraid of!"
"Be quiet, treacherous lieutenant! The imminent invasion of Canada might or might not be cancelled, but the Suicide Squad will come back stronger! I am currently studying the possibility of taming hyenas for my tyrannical purposes, since the animal seems to laugh more often than me, and I have to learn from their legendary optimism..."
Luke facepalmed.
The return to New Byzantium was going to be long, very long...
10 February 2007, the McLean Hollywood Villa, Hollywood, California, United States of America
It felt good to be back.
It felt good to be clean.
Granted, the long and hot showers were only part of that. There had been luxurious conditions when living under the Coliseum.
But she only felt really, really clean now that Commodus was dead.
The Narcissist Emperor was killed, twice, and he wouldn't come back.
Piper McLean breathed in relief, and stopped thinking about the monster.
It was good to be home; to be able to embrace her father with her arms.
And yes, she had realised now how fragile he truly was. How broken her departure had left him, no matter how much magic the kidnappers had used to keep him compliant.
Sometimes, Piper very much thought she was the adult in the family.
Alas, there was nothing she could do about it.
Her mother was an absent Goddess, and her father was...her father.
Better to accept it, and move on.
Piper left the bathroom, and Panther Kowalski tried to touch and smell her.
And yes, the ex-Huntress wore exactly the same as Piper did; T-Shirt and shorts.
That was because they were sharing the same bond now, and Piper had to admit, it felt both good and weird, to be the one commanding the Pride.
Of course, it wasn't the only thing that had changed.
As they had quickly acknowledged when returning back to their semi-human forms, shoes and every piece of cloth that was too restricting was not pleasant.
Piper was both a claimant Goddess and a Nemean Lioness now; the other girls were pure Nemean Lionesses.
The daughter of Venus opened the telepathic link in full again, and the emotions brought a purr on her lips.
It felt really, really good.
"We won't be able to stay here for long." The girl who had unofficially become the second of the Pride told her.
"It's true the villa isn't exactly the place where you can hide."
"It has nothing to do with that," the former Huntress disagreed. "Perseus Jackson screamed your name in front of the entire audience during the Ninth Labour. As a result the Olympians know your name and your divine lineage. For now, I am sure that everyone hesitates, because Venus is an Olympian, and her wrath can be quite destructive. But that lull in the storm only lasts as long as the other Olympians are distracted."
Piper could smell and taste the worry of Panther and several other girls.
"The Goddess you were formerly sworn to."
First lesson had been to learn that names had powers, and calling the Olympians by the name they had at any point in history was not a good idea at all.
"Yes. I suppose she had other priorities, between the return of the Sire of the Drakons, the Suicide Squad, and demanding endless torture for Commodus...but sooner or later, she will think about us. And when she will come, two or three security guards won't stop her. This villa is far, far too easy a target for an Olympian."
"True." Piper nodded. "And honestly, Hollywood is a horrible place to raise the children."
Panther looked at her in incomprehension at first...then in horror.
"Oh, no, no, no! You can't mean-"
"Yes, he got all of you pregnant, Pride-sister."
"The story of the Thespiades is one thing, and it was done by the true Hercules!"
"That's true." The daughter of Venus was forced to concede. "That's why Commodus laced your food with some hyper-fertility drugs that he got from his Titan benefactor."
Panther cursed profusely, and in the distance, many members of the Pride transformed, roaring their anger.
"Isn't there any hope?"
Piper grimaced.
"There is, but only for the two Pride-sisters who were transformed right after the Sixth Labour. You and the seventeen others? Commodus bragged about it, when he and I were alone. One day of rape under hyper-fertility drugs would have been bad enough, but several? There's no way to avoid a pregnancy now, and when using the kind of stuff the Gods usually do...you have to keep the daughter who will be born."
"Daughters?"
Piper shrugged.
"For some reason that betrays how arrogant he was, Commodus feared being usurped by one of his children, but only if his child was a son."
"That was kind of stupid, even for him. And now I really want to unsheathe my claws and kill him myself. A dozen times wouldn't be sufficient, I think, but it would be a nice start."
"Well, he must be getting everything he deserves in death now, though the torment is not inflicted by your claws."
Somewhere in the Underworld, a muzzled werewolf shivered. It didn't last long, because the second after, Megaera poured the venom of Pit Scorpions upon his head, before slowly carving open his chest with silver pincers.
"As you say."
They left the villa, and went on to enjoy the large garden of the Hollywood villa. Piper had never been more thankful that there were trees and walls; with three Pride-sisters in their full Nemean Lionesses forms, the neighbours or the people wishing to look inside the villa of her family would have gotten awkward questions very quickly.
Then the sound of a car engine arrived to her ear, getting louder and louder.
"Waiting for someone?"
"No, but maybe my father is." The villa had been getting rather empty after her mother removed permanently the thugs of Commodus. "Or is it a visitor for the other villas. There are quite a few celebrities living nearby."
But the ruckus made by the car – with her new powers, her senses had increased several time, and her ears were at least ten times better than they had been before – didn't decrease.
Soon enough, a splendid red car entered the villa, and most concerning at all, the security guards only approached it before stepping back, as if they were obeying orders superseding those she had given.
"Now that's a car," Panther murmured. "I think the God of the Sun would love having this one."
"It's a Ferrari, a collection model of the 1970s." Piper blinked. "And I'm pretty sure I would remember if someone my father knows has one. I haven't been absent that long."
The car stopped on the small parking, well away from them.
The door opened, and a beautiful woman stepped out.
Instinctively, Piper knew it was not her mother.
The blonde woman was beautiful, but there was not this sense you stood before your parent, someone who loved you unconditionally.
Yet the Demigoddess knew this woman was not a normal woman...assuming the word meant anything for Mankind as a whole.
It was not the attire, though the red robe was coming from Italy and probably cost enough to feed several dozens of people for an entire year.
It was the grace and the sheer assurance that she was cloaked into.
"You are not a friend of my father."
The woman smiled, removing her sunglasses, and Piper was struck by the glamorous blue eyes.
"You are insightful, Piper McLean. No, I am not a friend of your father, though I met him in a couple of occasions. I am here for you."
Panther placed herself before the intruder and she, ready to transform.
"Careful, she may be another lackey of Commodus-"
"Please, I do not serve that Narcissist Rapist." The blonde woman scoffed, her disdain clear and loud. "I am Neo Cybele. I am-"
"Of the Triumvirate," Piper completed.
"One more usurper trying to topple the Olympians," Panther commented with annoyance.
The owner of the Ferrari chuckled, untroubled by the aggressiveness.
"You're speaking of it like it is a bad thing. Let me remind you that right now, all of you are marked for death by the Goddess of the Hunt. The other Olympians won't go after you, they fear your mother too much for that, but neither will they protect you from the Huntress' childish wrath."
All her new abilities and animal senses felt that it was the truth.
"Why aren't other members of the Triumvirate we were familiar with are making the proposal?"
"Isis can't leave the Domain she is building right now, she is too vulnerable. The same applies to her husband. As for the other couple of our Triumvirate, they have taken the role of Neo Helios and Neo Selene. We prefer to keep you apart, until we know what exactly Perseus Jackson had done."
"What has he DONE?"
Piper suddenly had an irresistible urge to strangle a certain black-haired, grinning Demigod.
"He...he may have-"
"Piper," Panther intervened, "Jackson and his rowdy circus met Caligula and Julia Drusilla during their First Great Quest. One of the Lieutenants of my Goddess was there. He knows. He absolutely knows."
"Bastard," Piper swore, "first he steals my first kiss, then he forges me into-"
The daughter of Venus blushed. Something whispered in her ear, the faint fires of Neo Eos urging her to go and meet the Sun and the Moon.
Piper managed to ignore it, but it was getting difficult.
"Right, maybe it was best to avoid the other members of the Triumvirate."
Neo Cybele gave her a satisfied smile.
"That explains why the rest of the Triumvirate wasn't sent; that doesn't explain why you came."
"Isn't it evident? You and I are half-sisters, Piper McLean."
Before she could truly react, the red-clad woman began to sing.
It lasted barely a minute.
It was a simple melody.
It was enthrallment and seduction itself.
By the end of it, all her Nemean Lionesses were touching Piper, trying to find out if it was possible to pour love into her by loving contact, while the security officers of McLean Villa were at Neo Cybele's feet, prostrated and obedient.
"I...how is possible I've never heard of you before?"
"My Charm-song abilities were quite famous when I was alive, I assure you," Neo Cybele assured her. "But the factions who went on to great lengths to kill me made sure to erase most of my exploits and the gifts from our mother that I was able to elevate to the rank of art. And yes, for the first time in a millennium, our mother chose to trust you with the same gifts, only you have now merged them with Dawn."
The blue eyes felt like an ocean of blue, and Piper was almost certain it was not a divine power, but just the strength of the Demigoddess' personality imposed upon reality.
"For the outside world, I am Neo Cybele, Third Caesarea of the Triumvirate. But a life ago, I was better known as Valeria Messalina. Now if you wish it, I can offer you the training and the knowledge you seek, while promising protection for your father."
11 February 2007, Super-Mega-Yacht Inevitable Doom, exiting the Scylla Straits
"Perseus."
Once upon a time, Clarisse would never have dreamed of calling the son of Poseidon by his first name.
This felt like it had been an eternity ago.
"Clarisse."
Before you asked, yes, their leader was in his lounge chair, drinking fruit juice, with sunglasses hiding his eyes.
"I am almost surprised you didn't do something spectacular, this time."
"Hmm...there is a difference between doing something defiant against the enemies of Olympus, and doing something defiantly defiant against Olympus itself, Clarisse. The entrances of the Sea of Monsters being dangerous Trials...it's deliberate. The Council won't like it at all if I do something spectacular here."
Clarisse rolled her eyes.
She wasn't buying the excuse at all.
"I'm serious, Clarisse. The Great Quest is over, and I was granted diplomatic immunity along with all Questers. Olympus deliberately went about not replacing the missing guardian until we used the Straits. Picking a fight with Scylla would be extremely unwise."
The daughter of the War God nodded reluctantly.
"I can't help but believe there's something you're hiding."
"Oh?" The infectious grin appeared. "Well, you're right. There's also the minor problem I don't know how to reverse the Curse my niece was transformed with."
Clarisse gaped in surprise.
"You were able to find a solution for your half-sister."
"I was, but just because you call two things 'Curses' doesn't mean they have anything in common. Charybdis was manipulated into touching an artefact of the Dreaming One. I am pretty sure Scylla wasn't."
Okay, that was interesting.
"Annabeth mentioned the myth. It blamed C.C, and something about a transformative Potion dropped into a pond."
"That's the myth." The leader of the Suicide Squad nodded. "When I had a conversation about this little issue, she denied playing a part in this fiasco."
"She could have been lying to you."
"She had no reason to." Perseus shrugged carelessly. "And honestly, if she was really the culprit, I don't think her spa would be in the Sea of Monsters. Cursing the Heir of Atlantis' daughter? That isn't something you're escaping without retribution."
"Olympians and their children can't intervene as they wish in a Zone Mortalis."
Perseus Jackson snickered.
"Clarisse, I like you very much, but in that case, you're a bit naive. When someone angers the deities of the Sea, you will fear getting close to any amount of water bigger than a small glass. No, if C.C was responsible, Atlantis would have hunted her down repeatedly."
"If you say so," Clarisse found herself replying. "But in that case, why the hell did they not reverse the transformation? It can't be the danger of a Primordial Artefact, this time!"
SPLASH!
"Atlantis can't do anything because the main architect of Scylla's Curse is an Olympian."
Clarisse stared, speechless.
It had happened fast, impossibly fast. One second there was no one in front of them, and now, there was an athletic girl holding a surfboard in front of them.
The girl was tall, taller than her, and looked built like a triathlon competitor, something absolutely not hidden by her tight one-piece swimsuit.
There was no doubt about who she was the daughter of, evidently. The long black hair, semi-tanned skin, and the piercing eyes made her lineage an evidence.
She looked very much like the Goddess Rhode, minus the blonde hair...but she was not Rhode.
And it wasn't a Goddess...or would it be more accurate to say she wasn't a Goddess anymore?
"You were listening to us, weren't you?" Perseus discarded his drink and his sunglasses.
"I did, brother."
Well, that was confirmed-
"Whose name will you answer to, now?"
"Aspen."
The girl's smile was extremely similar to Perseus Jackson's, it had to be said.
Clarisse internally groaned.
"A nice first name."
Glad you agree," Aspen's smile became wider. "Now take your reward."
And with the swiftness of a cobra launching itself forwards, the daughter of Poseidon struck.
The kiss on the lips was not brotherly at all.
"That's incest," the mad Demigod protested when it stopped.
"It never stopped me," the Demigoddess chipped happily. "I am not going to do it a second time, I think the daughter of Athena is about to explode behind you."
Indeed, Annabeth Chase had arrived...and was glaring murderously at the newcomer. The kiss the grey-eyed daughter of Athena gave Perseus was truly one of a lioness marking her 'territory'.
Clarisse couldn't help but chuckle.
It was way too funny.
"Why are you here?" Yes, it was a certain blonde Demigoddess who had been sired by Athena who snarled.
"I came to thank my brother for several things." The Demigoddess who had been Charybdis was clearly unimpressed by the aggressive tone. "Antaeus' head needed to have some common sense placed back in it. Seriously, an arena with skulls? What was next, he was going to scream 'Blood for the Sea God' to all challengers?"
"He was well on his way to it, at least." Note to self: Perseus wasn't afraid to throw his half-brother to the wolves.
"Yes. Well, it's over. I am going to have to train him back."
Several thousands of kilometres away, a red-skinned half-giant shivered in fear.
"But enough about that," Aspen declared, all the while throwing a small book of what seemed to be official documents to her half-brother. "Atlantis has decided to reward you for your successful Great Quest. In order to avoid accusations of favouritism," the expression made it clear the Demigoddess found the excuse ridiculous, "Father and Mother will avoid large mountains of Drachmas. The big reward is you getting a huge private villa at New Byzantium, accompanied with an entire precinct and miniature village. Since like all our siblings, you have some taste for it, you will get the Alpha-size Thermal Baths' Complex next to it, the aqueduct to make sure it has water all year, a proper Gymnasium to train, and other sport facilities."
Clarisse gasped.
"This...this a royal reward."
Annabeth's speechless expression convinced her she wasn't wrong about it. Seriously, many people thought she was a muscle-head, but she could count! The kind of thing Aspen was describing was easily worth millions of Drachmas. Millions.
"Why yes, it is, but my little brother deserves it." Aspen smiled. "Maintenance and supply will also be provided as long as Perseus is reasonable. There are still debates if a proper dock for your yacht must be included with it."
Aspen bared her teeth.
"Father also left a large empty slot for you. Just in case you had forgotten, you owe Kym a Temple."
"I had not forgotten." Perseus sighed dramatically.
Kym? When had Kymopoleia, Goddess of Violent Storms and Maritime Disasters, become 'Kym'?
"See that you don't, because our sister won't forget to punish you if you don't respect your part of the bargain! Oh, and in her words, if you try to use your penguins as part of the temple's workforce, Kym will strangle you. Slowly!"
The wild laughter that accompanied them resonated long after the splash of the daughter of Poseidon disappearing under the waves.
"You weren't intending to use the penguins for Temple-building, right, Perseus?" The daughter of War heard the daughter of Wisdom mutter under her breath.
"Please, Annabeth, if I call the penguins, it's because I want a Holy Temple to be destroyed beyond repair!"
12 February 2007, the Directorial Palace, New Byzantium, United States of America (de jure)
Being exhausted was not something that you were very used to when you were a God.
On that point, Dionysus didn't regret the days when he was a Demigod.
Unfortunately, that didn't mean you couldn't get tired; it just meant that in times of peace, the threshold was so high it was near-impossible to reach.
In times of peace.
'Peaceful' was not exactly how he was ready to describe the world of today.
The God of Leopards and Madness fell onto his favourite couch, and opened a nice barrel of red.
"I am getting too old for this."
These were formidably ironic words, for he was the youngest of the Olympians, even after the nomination of Hercules.
The door opened slowly.
"I thought I heard...you're back."
Dionysus shrugged and raised his cup.
"Enter, Chiron, and find yourself a pile of pillows to sit upon. I need a drinking partner, and you've just volunteered."
The legendary Centaur obeyed; one could say many things about the Teacher of Heroes, but he acknowledged when his former pupils needed some relaxation time.
"There are many rumours spreading around," Chiron said once properly installed in front of him, a cup of fruit juice in his hands.
"If the rumours speak that I was 'volunteered' to hunt the 'Sire of the Drakons', then I can confirm they are true." Dionysus swallowed a third of his wine in one gulp before grimacing. "Of course, the hunt has been a miserable failure."
"I thought-"
"Oh, we found his old lair in the ruins of Arcadia. The bastard hid there for decades, waiting patiently, recovering his strength, and preparing new vicious plans. All the old skin and scales he left behind made that very clear. The valley where he made his main lair was filled with dangerous species of snakes serving as informants. I had to burn most of it under the King's instructions."
It would be easy to blame Apollo for it, like many others did. But Dionysus wasn't going to. He certainly had never thought Python would ever try that sort of tactic, and he was the successor of Pan in the first place.
No one had ever suggested an old foe could use that sort of apparently useless detail against the Olympians...except it was no longer true, was it?
"The Great Serpent hid there," Dionysus repeated, "but no more. Now he's gone."
The barrel was empty. Why did it empty so fast?
"The Fates are cruel," the God of Wine moaned before summoning a new barrel.
"The Fates may not want you to say that." An amused Centaur replied with a chuckle.
"If the Fates were good, a small army of women of age would storm this room and begin a Bacchanalia worthy of myself!" The Olympian declared peevishly.
Five seconds passed.
Nothing happened.
"Well, it was worth a shot," Dionysus shrugged the matter away. "Speak, Chiron. Given how exhausting this entire day was, I believe it's time the other chores come knocking at my door. What is this time? The Party Ponies?"
"No, though they are still at the gates of New Byzantium, and their petitions to demand a worse punishment for Ares are slowly gaining ground."
"I am not sure we can do much worse where the Boar is concerned," the God of War has gotten himself into plenty of trouble, more than anyone had save Hera in recent times. "I'm still surprised they came forwards. I thought they didn't like the other 'normal' Centaurs."
"They don't, but when your half-brother committed such a gratuitous massacre, they had to acknowledge that they had no shield, be it military or political, to prevent any Olympian from coming after them."
Dionysus scowled. That was a good point, damn it.
"Petitions I can tolerate, but I won't accept them inside New Byzantium."
The Party Ponies were good for parties, the problem was they often went overboard, and when they escalated too much, the party was most of the time described as a 'rampage' by outsiders.
Dionysus had been punished in the nineteenth century too much for his own activities to risk his reputation on the matter.
"What's the problem, then?"
"The Satyrs, of course."
Dionysus groaned, a sound he was sure had been heard by half of the city.
"Oh, great. Them."
Chiron cleared his throat, his discomfort obvious.
"They have good reason to be unhappy." The Trainer of Heroes spoke, unease increasing per the second. "You have to admit-"
"I will admit nothing in front of them." Dionysus replied darkly. "Not when their prayers are half the reason the Domain of Arcadia is still standing in the first place. Not that I think they will have the good sense to recognise this colossal mistake. What do they want?"
"The head of Jackson on a pike, of course," the Centaur answered. "He dared proclaiming in front of hundreds of thousands of beings that Pan was dead."
The youngest Olympian sighed.
"Oh, no, not this old pile of excrements again..."
"The Council of Cloven Hooves voted unanimously."
"They may have all the votes they want," even the drink began to feel bitter on his tongue. "It won't change the truth. Pan is dead. Pan is gone, and buried. I was there. I heard his last words. Yes, I regret very much his loss. He was my friend."
The God of Wine forced the empty barrel to disappear. He didn't conjure another one.
"I know it, Dionysus. But I haven't had much luck in the last centuries convincing the old goats of the Council of that...and they've indoctrinated a lot of the young generation to think like them."
Dionysus grimaced...again.
"I suppose that it's a very good thing we made it a Law that all the Satyrs except the young ones had to stay away from the City's boundaries."
This had nothing to do with Pan's memory, but with the 'urges' male Satyrs were so well-known for.
Yes, it was a very good thing the Camp of Cloven Hooves was not part of New Byzantium.
"The only good thing I can see in that disaster is that Commodus didn't have a Labour associated with the Erymanthian Boar."
"Here we have to disagree, Chiron. Personally, I think Perseus Jackson merely disintegrated Commodus' plan before the Narcissist Bastard was ready to unleash something crossbred with the Boar's essence into the arena."
Chiron winced, but didn't open his mouth to tell him he was wrong.
"There were empty cages under the Coliseum, were they?"
"There were."
The God of Madness breathed out, all the while throwing his golden cup away.
"Anyway, I don't see what I can change. Pan is dead, and I may be his successor among the Council, but I am very well aware I am not him."
He had made it clear from the beginning; while he loved nature, he didn't have the same passion for it that his predecessor had.
"The Satyrs will have to acknowledge the truth one day."
Chiron clearly had this kind of 'I'm bearing bad news' expression on his face, unfortunately.
"They believe it was his power which was used to transform the First Queen of the Amazons."
Dionysus muttered seven insults in less than a minute.
"No, it was not." The God of Wine calmed himself, as he saw that the room was beginning to shake under the power emanating from the essence he had gathered inside this building. "Were they born stupid, or must I change them into dolphins to keep company to Jackson's penguins?"
"It was that power, wasn't it?"
Dionysus nodded grimly.
"This is not good; I would have preferred the idea of the Great Serpent targeting Pan's Throne as an opportunist strike."
"I would have preferred it too," the Demigod-turned-God replied honestly. "But he's not."
Python had bid his time since he escaped Tartarus, most likely during World War II, draining the power of several Oracles that had been his, and then waiting in the shadows, only revealing his presence to potential allies.
The gamble had paid off.
"I just don't understand why he acted that way, Dionysus. One Key is not all the Keys, and with so many warnings, Perseus Jackson or not, the Great Serpent had to know you were going to be vigilant."
"I have one of my Aspects dedicated to countering him the moment there's an attack oncoming, yes."
"As I say, a wild strategy from him...or should I say Wyld?"
Dionysus glared.
"Careful, Chiron, you are my friend, but there is a Law. And much as I often disagree with the King of Gods, in this instance, I agree the Law is good. It must be enforced."
"My apologies...I was out of turn."
"No, it is my fault. I apologise. I wasn't...I am not in a good mood."
Thinking of Pan always put him in a morose mood, and debating about that power was even worse.
"Anyway, I feel something fresh in the air..."
"The remodelling of New Byzantium has begun, of course." Chiron smirked. "With Perseus Jackson about to be rewarded with a nice villa complex north of the city, evidently, all the other important Gods and Goddesses are doing their best to outcompete their rivals."
"Where did avarice fled to?" It was a poorly kept secret that New Byzantium was at the bottom of the treasury's allocations, a trend that had crossed several centuries.
"The godly egos are now at stake." Chiron informed him proudly. "The Master of Olympus of course wants an enormous thing of the purest white marble."
"Of course," Dionysus replied, rolling his eyes. "What else?"
"Well, there's your half-sister, who desires a private forest for her Huntresses and their pets."
"Why by the Pit does she want a forest for her girl-scouts? Most of the time, her current Barrack and everything she owns are empty one hundred days out of one hundred!"
"Beats me," Chiron admitted, "but I am just a messenger. Where did I put that list? Oh yes, Hermes want an entire block reserved for adrenaline-intensive sports, including things for the practise of skateboard, parachute, and kayak slalom!"
Dionysus shook his head.
"That can't be tolerated. I will have to imagine something bigger to make my siblings jealous!"
14 February 2007, Super-Mega-Yacht Inevitable Doom, somewhere in the Pacific Ocean
"RICH! WE ARE SO RICH!"
The words which immediately came out of Bianca's mouth promised a special Hell for the penguins.
Honestly, when she had ruled as Triumphant, there had been a special brand of long and painful torture for those who ruined her beauty sleep.
Why were the heroes nonetheless trying to piss her off this way, the Lightning Thief had never understood.
"RICH! WE ARE GOING TO BE ABLE TO BUY SO MANY EXPLOSIVES!"
You had three guesses to wonder which Demigod-turned-animal was screaming enthusiastically, and the first two didn't count.
The daughter of Hades groaned, before grimacing.
With the ruckus outside, any possibility of sleeping was gone; it would take a Potion or a spell to go back to the realm of dreams.
It was better to see what it was about.
The time to replace her nightwear by something befitting of a sorceress, and she was out of her personal cabin.
And if she sent a minor spell to hit the backsides of a couple of disobedient penguins, well, who would blame her?
Naturally, the Lightning Thief could have interrogated some of the members of the Suicide Squad that were gossiping in an undignified manner, but Bianca had never wasted her time listening to rumours in the two lives she'd lived through.
If you wanted to know the facts, you went straight to the source; and in that case, the source was none other than a son of Poseidon.
The black-haired sorceress found him working on an impressive list of paperwork, with of course Annabeth Chase playing the role of dutiful secretary...and yes, the daughter of Athena was radiant.
Who knew the too-rigid rules-abiding Demigoddess would abandon her rigid moral code once a certain son of Poseidon began to satisfy her in every way?
Apparently, her smirk had been a bit too evident; the daughter of Athena fled with a pile of documents under her arm three seconds after her entrance.
"I want to crucify your penguins, for the record."
"You can't, oh my triumphant lieutenant! They are the cadre of my future penguin infantry battalion!"
"If they continue to disturb my beauty sleep, I will make them an undead battalion," she swore.
"But think of the comic relief!"
Bianca glared at him, but of course, the former Tyrant had to meet her eyes, unflinching, a grin on her lips.
"If the squeaking and the love for explosives was any indication, I assume it means we've been paid."
"We've received some promises of payments, at any rate." Perseus cleared his throat. "No one is going to transfer significant sum of Drachmas on the open seas, I'm afraid. Except my father, but it's not a mountain of gold I receive from him."
"Yes, yes, everyone is aware your genitor promised you a palace." Bianca rolled her eyes.
"Big words coming from the girl whose father also swore to build a palace for her brother and she."
The thing to learn about Perseus Jackson: he had a repartee for nearly everything.
"Let's get down with it." The Lightning Thief sighed. "I assume the main promises from the Olympians have arrived?"
"They have. Let's see...who do we begin with?"
"The Master of Olympus himself?"
"Oh, good idea." The son of Poseidon grabbed several pieces of paper. "Yes, for him, it's not going to make us rich. We are given one year of diplomatic immunity the moment we step foot on the soil of the Demigod city, be it New Byzantium or New Constantinople. We will not be brought in front of justice courts for the multitude of 'arrangements' we did during this Great Quest, but in compensation, we are supposed to stay within the outer magical boundaries for that period of time."
"How generous of him," Bianca replied sarcastically.
"I know, right?" Perseus took another page of paper. "From Annabeth's mother, things are far better. All the debts and obligations we owed her were cancelled."
"The debts you owed her, you mean."
Perseus deliberately and completely ignored her.
"Anyway, the Goddess of Heroes and Wisdom was very generous. We are to receive two million Drachmas, and three Demigoddesses who happened to be monsters will do some chores and public repentance in my service."
The Demigoddess who had been Triumphant huffed in amusement. The Gorgon sisters deserved everything they were about to endure.
"Who's next...ah, yes, the God of the Forge! Leo is about to get a new Forge Complex also serving as personal villa for him, and I suppose some of his siblings, given how large it is going to be. There will be cutting-edge machines and everything a son of the Smith will like."
"Armoury? Weapons?"
"Some were transferred to C.C as part of my negotiation deals with her. For some things, my understanding is that if we want the weapons, we will have to order them or build them ourselves."
That was...not unexpected.
"On another front, I will get a personal ultra-secure vault to store some dangerous things I keep close to me. And the Suicide Squad gets two million Drachmas."
Bianca was beginning to understand why the infuriating penguins had been so excited. But that didn't mean she wasn't going to make them regret waking her up.
"From the God of Wine and Madness, an immortal I have served loyally," the grin from Perseus was all the more scary because it was true, "we have some interesting discount prices on popcorn, partying supplies, fireworks, and many other things."
Yes, why would anyone think they would get anything else?
"Dakota of course will get a big villa of his own, I think the Olympians and all the major Gods are in a competition on that front. There will be the offer of Cactus Dryads to protect the boundaries of our homes, by the way. In addition to this, we get one million Drachmas for the Suicide Squad as a whole...and a respectable quantity of alcoholic beverages for everyone."
"How big is a respectable quantity?"
Perseus feigned to look at the paper between his hands, an innocent expression on his face.
"Let's just say that if we each decide to drink one bottle per day, there will still be plenty left after one year."
"You'd better make sure the others don't drown their sorrows into alcohol." The last thing they needed was that when things would go to hell again, to acknowledge the Suicide Squad had destroyed itself in wine and liquors.
"Don't worry, I will...except for Dakota, but he has his girlfriends to keep him focused." Bianca huffed, but didn't press the matter.
More pages were read and discarded in turn.
"We get one million each from the God of the Sun and Speed. For them too there are villas and other accommodations, plus Michael's father promised him an entire team of investigators to try to break the Hare Curse and more. The replacement of the God of War, who happens to be the God Commodus wanted to challenge, rewarded us with one million Drachmas too."
That sounded like the basic package of 'you did a good job, well done, take this and don't bother me again'.
"As far as Underworld parties are concerned, the rewards were not given in cash. Apparently, there's a big shopping centre which will open soon at New Byzantium, and we will get huge price reductions for it. The creation of a Winter Sports Complex has been decided too. I and several others will have free access."
Bianca nodded; there was no need to ask who were the Goddesses sponsoring these moves.
"It's frankly the same as far as Atlantis is concerned; plenty of facilities, and we don't have to pay for the maintenance of it, we can train and use everything, without being bothered by the crowds of New Byzantium."
Yes, they were other swimming pools and training grounds, but often, they were absolutely crowded and you had to book everything weeks in advance.
"Is that all?" This had been plenty of Olympians, but there were some missing.
"Of course not," for the first time, Perseus was not giving an expression filled with assurance. "There's the Goddess of Love."
"She went in and gave you a message to not try to kiss one of her daughters without said Demigoddess' approval, didn't she?"
"She did," the son of Poseidon grumbled. "Annabeth's mother was bad enough too..."
"What did she threaten you with?" she asked, honestly curious.
"Let's say that if I break her daughter's heart, the Goddess will ruin my life."
Bianca laughed. It served Perseus right. It was time for some of the consequences of his ridiculous plans to bite him.
"Wait a minute...you didn't receive the same threats for the Titaness of Magic?"
"Lou Ellen's mother apparently believes that if I break the heart of her daughter, Lou Ellen is up to the task of punishing me herself. We received a million Drachmas from her too, by the way."
"No villa?"
The leader of the Suicide Squad shrugged.
"Lou Ellen will get one, but on C.C's Spa and Resort, not at New Byzantium. There was something from the Titaness that if her children want to be rewarded, they will have to stop waiting for their sister to bring them back presents. Going back to the Goddess of Love, the Lady of Doves believed I needed to get my thirteen pieces of silver."
"I know that reference." Bianca smiled. "Thirteen coins?"
Perseus sighed dramatically.
"No, we will get thirteen million silver Tetradrachmas, which are the biggest coins ever minted by Athens, and thus the Greek Cities. And for your personal information, the name is not a false association: with the enchantments and the currency backed by Athena, each Tetradrachma is worth four Drachmas."
Bianca's mind switched off for a few seconds. Then when it switched back on, the rapid and basic calculus confirmed that yes, they were speaking of a sum of fifty-two million Drachmas.
"Oh," the Lightning Thief only managed to utter this immediately before controlling her expression. "Yes, I understand why Rico and consorts were so excited. But for all the gesture, I don't understand what troubled you?"
"The Goddess also pushed for my villa to include a sex dungeon."
The daughter of Hades exploded into uncontrollable giggling.
"Serves you absolutely right, Perseus Jackson," she managed to voice after several minutes.
"As always, Lady Bianca di Angelo, your words are of great comfort to me."
Bianca just giggled for several more seconds.
"Right, this was plenty of fun and everything...but there must be a few deities left, no?"
"There aren't so much of them. As I mentioned, every divine parent having a children in the Suicide Squad rewarded his or her son with something. Ethan will get his villa, for example, and his mother gave us a million Drachmas. There are...not anomalies, but Goddesses who followed our exploits and seem to have appreciated them. The Goddess of Victory and the Goddess of Discord sent their congratulations, along with the 'standard' promise of one million Drachmas."
Since they had won the Adjudicator Challenge and fulfilled the goals of the Great Quest, all the while spreading unholy mayhem, it was not too surprising, yes.
But Bianca could tell there was still a problem. Ares was known to be punished right now, and he had lost his Throne. Hera was still relatively mortal, and unable to access her funds anyway.
That still left two Olympians.
"You didn't mention the Goddess of Agriculture or the Goddess of the Hunt."
Perseus scowled.
"As far as Agriculture and Harvest is concerned, we got the very minimum, that is there's a new Barrack for her children, a large greenhouse to grow all sort of edible things...and Miranda was rewarded with a large sandbox."
"Ah," the Lightning Thief hesitated before deciding that it really didn't matter anyway. Demeter was not pleased with them at all. "Yes, I suppose we're not going to be her favourites."
"That is putting it mildly." The former Tyrant snorted. "Who did I forget? Oh yes, the Roman Goddess of War appreciated our performance, we got two million Drachmas...and Dakota got the threats, not me."
The son of Poseidon closed his mouth.
They watched each other for several seconds in complete silence.
Yes, they both knew the last name, the Goddess that hadn't been mentioned.
"And the Goddess of the Moon and the Hunt?
The expression of Perseus was worth a long monologue.
"To use some words that have been used before, I was rewarded only with her silence."
Artemis truly was a bitch.
No, Bianca was not going to say it out loud, though she was sure the absolute majority of people onboard would agree with her.
"There has been no word from Ellen and Jenna, or any other Huntress for that matter."
"No, there wasn't."
It was going to be a problem.
In fact, it was going to be more than that. If the Moon Goddess was that ungrateful after they broke a plan which saved several of her Huntresses and destroyed an attempted usurpation of her divine essence, what would she do in other circumstances?
"We're going to have to deal with that problem."
The grin of Perseus returned, though it was not anywhere at full power.
"For the moment, I admit that aside from selling New T-Shirts of 'I hate the Evil Lesbian Cult', I have kind of a shortage of bright and excellent ideas..."
Bianca did feel the same, and it wasn't a reassuring thought.
15 February 2007, Los Angeles, California, United States of America
The world was changing, and it was not a slow process.
Just this morning, he had learned that Vulcan had created an enterprise called Smith International to sell some of his cutting-edge computers. Well, cutting-edge by mortal standards.
A detail? The machines started if the user said a genuine prayer to Vulcan-Hephaestus.
They were many beings who said the God of the Forges and Technology was isolationist, and understood little about human nature, but he wondered if it had not all been rumours.
Gaius Caesar Augustus Germanicus, better known in many circles as Caligula, looked at the street dozens of metres below his office in frustration.
Sometimes, it was amusing to hide from the Olympians in plain sight.
In other times, frustration seized you when they did something in one click of fingers that would require years to find a counter.
"Enter."
His secretary opened the door, saluted, and let his fellow Triumvir walk upon his ancient Persian carpet.
"You're late, Neo Mithras."
"I was reading the report of my Caesarea, Neo Helios. You know, the one about Neo Eos and its repercussions on our global strategy."
The claimant to the throne of the Sun did his best to hide his unease. He wasn't sure how successful he was.
"I should have strangled Perseus Jackson when I had the chance."
"Or you should have accepted his 'eternal friendship." The other Triumvir suggested, which earned him a fiercely-delivered glare. "I for one wonder how many steps he is ahead of us."
"Perseus Jackson is not omniscient or all-seeing. He can be beaten."
Neo Mithras didn't answer, and his fists tightened.
"Does Neo Cybele report satisfy you?" He said at last.
"It does. Piper McLean knew nothing about Jackson before seeing him for the first time in the Coliseum. The former Huntresses knew more, of course, but only in general terms, they certainly had not been involved anywhere near him in the last years. They are not spies sent to tempt us, Neo Helios."
"That doesn't mean it couldn't be a trap."
For too long, his sister and himself had relied upon each other, and none other.
"It could be. But perhaps not for us. It is no great secret the Suicide Squad has earned itself the enmity of the Goddess of the Hunt, the very Olympian Commodus tried to use Piper McLean for a Huntress Apotheosis-Usurpation."
"You think the son of the Earthshaker forging her into a claimant of Dawn is a way to keep an arrow pointed at the Huntress?"
"It would certainly fit his modus operandi, no? Perseus Jackson loves to use the weapons many commanders would be prompt to discard or refuse to use in fear of the consequences. Look at how the mighty Cerberus was deployed...several times."
There was nothing to do but concede the point. No one, and the list of heroes this century alone was big enough to fill several volumes, had ever thought about 'allying' with the three-headed guardian of the Underworld.
No one had been crazy enough to even consider the idea, admittedly.
"The question now is if you will meet Neo Eos."
He couldn't help but snorting at that.
"'Meet'. Is it how it is presented by your staff, Neo Mithras?"
"No, but it could be."
The smile of his fellow Triumvir was real, but underneath lurked something far more dangerous.
"The girl can be incredibly useful, and together you would indeed be the trinity of the Sun, the Moon, and the Dawn. Give it a chance."
Gaius Caesar Augustus Germanicus didn't answer.
"Send your Caesarea, if you fear so much she is going to steal your heart."
"I am not afraid!" the claimant to the Throne of the Sun snapped before trying to calm himself. "Fine. I will send my sister. She will talk to her as Neo Cybele teaches her how to wield her powers properly. Satisfied?"
"Yes," the other Imperator answered.
The next minutes were spent on far more tedious and predictable affairs. Depots were emptied. Logistic routes had to be modified. Old bases were closed out, and new ones were prepared. Most of them were precautions as part of the outcome of Commodus' disastrous games, but it was better to prepare for the worst, all the while hoping for the best.
"I seriously hope this werewolf narcissist is suffering a lot for all the trouble he caused us."
"We have only one source available which is in position to report. According to him, Commodus is indeed getting horribly tortured. That, and well, he is singing like a canary where the Coalition is concerned."
"Interesting. But surely someone like the Titan of Crafty Counsel tightly compartmentalized an organisation he is part of."
"He did. But there's a balance between vital need-to-know and day-to-day basic information. The Man with the Gold Touch, the First Oracle of Delphi, and of course the Titan himself, accompanied by a powerful Sorcerer."
"Except the former," Neo Helios replied thoughtfully, "none of it is exactly new."
At least they now had a good idea where all the budget for these absurdly expensive Games had come from.
"This is true, I suppose. But then the other spies we have in the Underworld began to inform us that the officers the King of Hell went on to truly begin a large-scale census of all important Roman officers who ever entered the Halls of the Dead. By all accounts, they work assiduously and with great celerity."
"It is only a minor problem by now. Everyone on Olympus is aware by now of Mark Antony and myself, as well as the identities of our Caesarea partners. You and Neo Cybele are the only ones whose identity may have been a secret. The loss of anonymity will be a blow, but one that has largely been predicted and anticipated."
"This can be defended, yes." The other male Triumvir agreed. "But the problem, according to our spies, is that they are not searching just for the identities of our Triumvirate. They're also concerned about potential Romans serving the Coalition. For example, they are aware Nero made his escape."
"Everyone knows Nero escaped, Neo Mithras." This was an exaggeration, but not by much. "I'm highly confident Jackson knew it too, given how he phrased his questions the first time we met."
"Nero is just the first. There are names that are, to put it bluntly, far more problematic."
"Who? Octavian Augustus? Please! This scheming politician will never turn against Olympus, and certainly not side with anyone as vile as the beings who built up Commodus' powerbase."
"Octavian Augustus, no, but there are other men of the Republic the Princeps killed for good that are missing. Men who loved power, and would stop at nothing to claim it again."
"No," Neo Helios refused to think it was possible.
"Commodus found a way to hide himself. And he wasn't exactly a model for humility and self-control."
"This imbecile had a Titan to give him marching orders, Julian! The fool thought that descending into the arena and fight Jackson personally while every part of his plans was collapsing around him was a good idea!"
It was like comparing an enraged dog with a werewolf.
"No, our spies have to be mistaken. The First Triumvirate can't be back. We would have discovered their presence long ago if it was the case..."
16 February 2007, Super-Mega Yacht Inevitable Doom, somewhere in the Pacific Ocean
Dakota had not known what to expect when Perseus Jackson summoned him this morning. Was it about the monumental quantity of alcohol all Gods and Goddesses seem happy to gift them in the last week?
For a leader demanding sobriety for every member of the Suicide Squad – Dakota was just the exception which confirmed the rule – the son of Poseidon had more whiskey, wine and brandy than he likely knew what to do with. And that didn't even count the rum bottles which had been revealed as the 'trophy' of the Sea of Monsters...
Hylla had preceded him in the room, but she abruptly stopped, and her mouth was wide open.
It was clearly understandable, because Perseus Jackson was busy trying to add shining gemstones back to an artefact that they had seen before into the Coliseum's arena.
"Perseus..." Reyna took the initiative, since her older sister was clearly unable to. "Is that the Belt of the Amazon Queen?"
"It might be," because yes, the Gods forbid the grinning madman gave a simple answer.
"But...but...it was a shared victory! The Triumvirate took the Belt, while you took the gemstones! It was the reason the Narcissist Predator had to acknowledge the point divide in the first place!"
"Oh, yes," the son of Poseidon nodded, like it happened to him every Monday. "It is exactly what happened."
"In that case, how?"
"I thought that was evident," Perseus shrugged. "When everyone paid no attention to it, I asked Lou Ellen to put a short-lived Invisibility Spell on Elvis, so he could steal it back."
The urge to smack one's head against the hull of the Super-Mega-Yacht was getting stronger and stronger.
"You behaved like the Belt was of no importance, and the only thing which mattered was stopping Otrera from accomplishing her ritual." The son of Bacchus did not vent out his frustration. "But that wasn't the case, was it?"
"Oh, the priority goal always was to stop the ritual before it could result in the creation of another Nocturna," Perseus said neutrally, his grin taking a short leave. "I am willing to swear on a lot of important things that it was the truth. If I had failed, we would get something dangerously close to a lesser Goddess in raw power, and winning the Labour without more deaths...let's just say it would have been extremely complicated."
"But you didn't forget the Belt." Hylla accused him.
The last gemstone seemed to merge with the golden decorations, and the legendary heirloom of the Amazons began to get shrouded in red and golden lights. The ornamentation seemed to get slightly altered; there were still scenes of violence, but it felt more controlled, more disciplined.
"The influence of the Victor of the Labours is already felt." The son of the Earthshaker commented.
"What?"
"With the former God of War no longer a seat among the Council, the Amazons are now falling upon the chief authority of Richard's father," Perseus explained as if it was normal, and he had been attending the Council every morning instead of being aboard the Inevitable Doom. "Luke's father will second him, when it comes to economic warfare issues. One of the problems the Master of Olympus had with Clarisse's genitor was that he was completely ignoring the aggressive conquests of the Amazons on every field. The Killer of Men was nearly as bad as certain screw-ups in that regard. It has been decided it will change. The headquarters of the Amazons is going to be in one of the expanded lands that have been made part of New Byzantium in the last weeks. Evidently, the near-total independence of the organisation-tribe once founded by Otrera is coming to an end."
"They aren't going to like it," Reyna pointed out.
Perseus cackled joyfully.
"After the stunt Otrera screamed with all Olympus able to watch her treachery, I don't think the Gods and Goddesses care very much. Their biggest concern right now is to make sure there are no more girls willing to imitate Otrera. And it's a bit more difficult to plot if the Amazons are monitored correctly."
All of that was true, Dakota supposed. Yet it didn't explain why-
"You know the Amazons are going to be furious," the son of Bacchus spoke with horrified fascination. "You're counting upon it. But...how-"
"How is he going to exploit it?" Hylla asked for him. "That's very simple. The Belt of the Amazon Queen is more than an artefact; it's the symbol of royalty among the Amazons. The woman who has it is the Queen."
"That...that's how simple it is?"
"No," Perseus continued to grin. "Of course, not. First, a woman must have lost her virginity."
Dakota was suddenly very happy Hylla and Reyna chose to glare at the smirking Tyrant, and not him.
"Then she must swear the vows to the God who is in charge of the Amazons, who is currently Hercules, also known as Alcides or Heracles, depending on what you prefer."
There was a shimmer of power, the aura of the Belt rippled in a significant fashion, and the Roman Quester knew it was not a mistake the names had been uttered here and now.
"But the most important is that the Amazon leadership agrees upon a champion, and the future Queen must defeat her decisively three times in as many contests: archery, sword duel, and traditional wrestling."
The smile was genuine, as far as he could tell.
"I admit it may have changed a bit, but that's all. No virginity, swear yourself to be an Amazon, and fight your way to the top. Then you're Queen for an entire year; no one can challenge you for that amount of time."
And no, it was not Dakota's imagination Perseus was staring at Hylla when speaking.
"I am not going to try to go after the Queen's throne just so you add more girls to the Suicide Squad, Jackson."
"Perish the thought," the mad Demigod smirked. "I am far more interested in having the Amazons as allies and economic partners. You are aware, I'm sure, that the Huntresses will not be on our side, and they are a true army in plenty of aspects. It is best, as a result, that the Amazons have someone at the helm that is neither a servile lackey nor another Otrera."
The red eye shone malevolently again, right as the Belt was placed in Hylla's hands.
"Obviously, it is your decision. If you aren't willing, you will only have to deliver it in the Amazons' hands the moment we land at New Byzantium; you will be the heroine of the day, and all of that."
Hylla's eyes were incredibly thoughtful.
"If I am to be the Amazon Queen, I will defend the interests of the Amazons above everything else." The eyes the Goddess Bellona had given to her daughter could be incredibly murderous in the right circumstances. "I will not help you pilfer in the Amazons' warehouses, Perseus Jackson."
"I will stop..." the innocent expression didn't fool anyone. "As long as I get nice discount sales every Friday, of course."
Hylla sighed in despair.
"Why have I the feeling that I am going to regret it?"
"That we are going to regret it, sister," Reyna intervened. "I won't let you do it alone."
This could have been a dramatic moment, but of course Perseus had to ruin it by cackling.
"Nice! Now please inform your boy-toy...I mean, your noble consort of the duties that are expected of an Amazon Queen..."
"Oh come on," Dakota spoke. "It can't be that bad..."
Hylla and Reyna went up crimson so quickly one would almost think they had been cursed with something including tomatoes.
"Can it?" the drunken boyfriend of the two daughters of Bellona moaned in despair.
18 February 2007, an island somewhere in the Sea of Monsters
The island was barren.
It was a tiny thing, constantly washed up by the storms of the Sea of Monsters.
It was too often submerged for birds to make their nests here.
It was too rocky and surrounded by knife-sharp reefs to be useful for sea mammals wanting a safe ground for their young.
It was an unnamed island, the likes they were thousands across the Zone Mortalis.
If there hadn't been a flicker of a divine power, the Goddess wouldn't even have noticed it.
Upon landing, however, what she saw brought an expression of frustration on the face she had chosen.
The divine sparkle that was the reason of her presence here was a three metre-tall statue.
It was a communication relay she was very familiar with, nothing less, nothing more.
"We have nothing to say with each other, Prometheus." Athena hid her anger behind a voice of steel.
"Now, now, my plan was so close to success." The Titan had the gall to chuckle. "You must have changed. I didn't believe you would grow so fond of the Hunt Goddess."
"I still don't like my half-sister of the Moon and the Hunt." Athena readily admitted. That was hardly a secret in the halls of Olympus and elsewhere. "I wouldn't shed a tear if she lost her Throne. But there's a big difference that, and making a plan which included her Huntresses being raped and herself being forced to Possess a young Demigoddess, before enduring the sexual assaults of a malevolent predator."
There were disgusting plans, but this one went so far beyond disgusting new words should be invented for it.
"Perseus Jackson is illogical and loves to spread chaos, but on this point at least, he was right: Commodus was an ignoble narcissist, doubled as a rapist. He deserves everything the Erinyes are doing to him. And those who helped Commodus, whoever they are, are truly disgusting bastards."
"Strong words, but you're letting your emotions get in the way of your plans again."
"You allied with Commodus! COMMODUS!"
Obviously, the wax statue didn't change to reflect the behaviour of the owner at the other end, but Athena could sense there was no apology coming.
"He was the right tool to test both Suicide Squad and Triumvirate."
What an idiot she had been, millennia ago, when she, Goddess of Wisdom and Arts, had believed she knew Prometheus.
Athena had been a fool for thinking that.
"Testing them? You threw a Huntress into the tentacles of a Primordial! You tried to trap them with a power that has been utterly erased from all tales, and for good reasons! You increased all the worst impulses of Ares, and then you released him to carve a path of gore and death!"
"If they didn't survive him and the simplest of my tricks, then they had no business playing a part in the Age to come."
"We aren't in that Age anymore!"
"Oh, but we are. Or are you going to pretend this Great Quest was far easier than the mission that was given to the Argonauts? Go ahead, I'm ready to hear your counter-argument."
Athena gritted her teeth.
She didn't give a retort.
It wouldn't do any good, not when the Titan of Crafty Counsel was clearly ready to demolish her arguments one by one.
"I realise plenty of actors won't like it, but my ideas work. They are a bit unconventional, I will admit, but sometimes you need to break a few eggs-"
"Is it how you describe stealing the Fire and giving it to Mankind without explaining them how to wield it safely?"
The human civilisation which had received the poisoned gift had torn itself apart within a moon. When settlements were perpetually competing with resources, yes, the first murderous use of Fire had been to torch their rivals' homes.
"It worked, didn't it? The human grew more resourceful, more rebellious, less inclined to tolerate the abuses of Olympian rule."
"I should never have accepted you as my lover, never mind a betrothal."
"Please don't play the innocent, Athena. I know of your contacts with Tethys. You are hardly the good chaste girl who follows her father's rules. You are in many ways as disobedient as the others."
Yes, of course the Titan knew about that. This was going to be a problem.
"You are the Goddess of Wisdom, but you refuse to see the solution which is shining in front of you. The Prophecy is still active. Your genitor is going to be overthrown by one of his children. Among them, you are certainly one of the most skilled and powerful. You can seize power, and rule, as the plan called for."
"I see no reason to continue this pointless debate." Athena cut in. "If you try to engineer the rape or other sexual abuses of other women, I swear to you, Prometheus, that the torment Commodus is currently suffering courtesy of the King of Hell and his servants will seem painless compared to what I will do to you!"
"You were that fiery-"
Her spear struck, and the wax statue was blasted apart.
"Never again," Athena swore, though she didn't know it was to herself or for other ears that couldn't hear the whisper. "You betrayed my trust. I won't make that mistake again..."
20 February 2007, Super-Mega-Yacht Inevitable Doom, approaching the Panama Canal
Annabeth didn't know if she had to cry or laugh.
"Perseus...that's not a drawing."
"Yes, it is." The warm look he gave her would have made her blush any other time, but not today.
"No, it's not. A two-year-old is drawing better than you!"
"Now I know you're exaggerating!"
Annabeth glared, then looked at the 'drawing' again. If you disregarded the ugly marks, the absence of symmetry, the utter lack of regard for elegance...
"Did someone teach you how to do drawings, anyway?"
"It must have been forgotten at the beginning of my story," her boyfriend said, more amused than insulted. "Bah, it is why I have you as an architect, no?"
"And don't you dare forget it," the blonde Demigoddess muttered before clearing her throat. "If you didn't have me, the Goddess of Violent Storms would disintegrate you for having the audacity of building the ugliest temple in the world."
"Yes, we shouldn't forget about that. We already have enough problems with the Titans and Titanesses, I think."
"Glad to hear there's limits to the number of immortal enemies you're accumulating." She rolled her eyes, before a question blossomed in her head. "You've never answered my question, you know."
"You asked a lot of questions, during this Great Quest." Perseus crossed his arms and smirked. "You will have to be a bit more precise."
"We met a lot of Gods and Goddesses. We also met representatives of the Titan immortals. But where I observed them, I didn't find them so different. Why do we call some Gods and not Titans, or vice-versa?"
"That's actually a very good question, Annabeth. The simplest answer, honestly, is that they are not so very different. A God can easily be mistaken for a Titan. The current Master of Olympus is famous for having infiltrated the fortress of Mount Othrys, and you can bet the forces of the Lord of Time wouldn't have tolerated a non-Titan among them."
"So I can call a Titan a God, and there won't be any problem?"
The Drakon-Slayer laughed.
"Not if you value your life, I'm afraid. No, the Titans are very proud about being a race of immortal they consider above the Gods. In their minds, the fact that both a Titan and a God bleed golden ichor when wounded, can incinerate mortal beings when revealing their divine forms, and are bound to the same Ancient Laws is nothing but an unfortunate coincidence."
"Hell of a coincidence," the daughter of Wisdom remarked while seating herself next to Perseus. "And many, many Gods were born from the union of Titans."
"Exactly!" the agreement came immediately. "In fact, some immortals used it to their advantage. I'm pretty sure the Titaness of Magic pretended to be a Goddess when she decided to side with the Olympians during the Titanomachy. It may have not been the wisest course; the Titan of the Sun and the Titaness of the Moon were welcomed among the old Council and accepted as they were."
While Hecate's habit to reveal only some part of the truth and keep the secrets of sorcery for herself made her a true powerhouse, but the mother of Lou Ellen would never be trusted fully by Zeus and the rest of Olympus.
"What's the big difference then? The way they took their Domains?"
"No. What makes the big difference between Titan and God, as far as I was able to discover, is the core of what the parents gave to their child. If what burns in the heart of the immortal at birth is Might before Passion, the end result is a Titan or a Titaness. If it is Passion before Might, it will be a God or a Goddess."
"That's so simple?" Annabeth asked dubiously. "I mean, it would explain why Aphrodite is a Goddess, not a Titaness, but still..."
Perseus shrugged.
"For all the big deal certain Titans make about it, the truth is that Titans and Gods are very close cousins among immortals. One can be easily mistaken for the other. This isn't the case for say, the Gigantes."
"Yeah, they bleed black ichor." Annabeth grimaced; the memory of the 'Bane of Hades' revealing himself and destroying part of an island in the process had very much been the stuff of nightmares. "I suppose they aren't forged the same way."
"I couldn't exactly ask their mother a confirmation, but my guess is that they were created with Might mixed with Vengeance."
"This is a nasty dual combination."
"Not going to disagree with you there. But yes, that's the entire story. A Titan has a core composed in majority of Might, with only a minor part of Passion unable to influence him away from his true nature. A God will be the same, but with Passion, and the minor part will be Might."
That at least explained why so many Olympians were infamous for their infidelities outside of marriage, while the Titans were not, as far as she knew.
"It makes a big difference when they are defeated." The leader of the Suicide Squad continued in a calm and analytic tone. "Gods are extremely difficult to defeat for good unless they are usurped properly, for the passions they inspire in the hearts of mortals will give them back strength extremely fast. During the Titanomachy's early battles, this is why the Might of the Titans was unable to score any lasting victories, by the way. Any defeat the future Olympians suffered was a blow that was healed in mere days."
"The Titans must have advantages too."
"Of course. Might, whether or not it has Reason to guide its hand, is the most redoubtable threat in the world. Gods can survive a lot of things, and heal extremely fast. But Titans are practically the only beings that can survive the loss of multiple Domains, several usurpations, and keep fighting."
Yes, Calypso had been a shadow of herself, she had lost the Drakons...and yet she was hardly on the verge of death.
"It wasn't mere vengeance which lead the Olympians to cut apart the Titan of Time in a thousand pieces and disperse the bloody remnants in the Pit, was it?"
"No. It was the only thing my father and his siblings could think of that had a chance to put down their genitor in a permanent manner."
Annabeth shivered.
"Since Titans are more difficult to eliminate than Gods, shouldn't there more claimants aspiring to be part of their ranks than there would be usurpers of Gods?"
Caligula and his sister, for all their rituals absorbing parts of the essence of Helios and Selene, were beings of Passion. They would certainly end up as Gods, not Titans.
"In theory, yes. In practise, no. There are only two ways to become a Titan, Annabeth. One of them, it will not surprise you, is to have the King of Titans grant you your Apotheosis."
The same was true for the Gods, as Zeus sometimes gave Demigods and Demigoddesses the ultimate reward, giving them immortality and eternal youth, making them lesser Gods living forever in the golden halls of Olympus.
But there was a major difference, of course: Kronos was not 'alive' right now. Thus the method was not available.
"Yes, I can see that will be a problem."
"I'm so glad you agree. And yes, just for your personal knowledge, I have already recorded several dozen methods by which Demigods and Demigoddesses became true immortals. As a result, one can say that yes, there are benefits to Titanic Apotheosis, much like there are others for Godly Apotheosis. Unfortunately, when it comes to practicality, the Godly path is way, way easier and has something the Titans are not noted for: flexibility."
"Hmm...and the Sire of the Drakons, then?" the daughter of Athena asked. "Is the Great Serpent a Titan or a God, in your opinion? I would guess Titan, the size alone is a clue that there's more Might than Passion for the giant serpentine appearance..."
"In my humble opinion?" Perseus winced. "The answer is: neither."
"A Gigantes, then?" Vengeance was certainly something Python had in spades against Apollo and his sister, if the lengths he used in the Coliseum were any indication.
"No. Not a Gigantes, I didn't feel enough Vengeance coming from the Sire, though I don't doubt it is a significant motivation in its actions."
"What it is, then?"
"I don't know."
This made the entire thing worse, in a way. If Perseus didn't know it, then that meant more or less every Demigod and Demigoddess was in the dark.
"This is...ah." Magic pulsed, and suddenly, the cabin where the conversation had taken place began to be bathed in pink energy.
Annabeth breathed faster. Everything seemed to disappear...everything was Lust.
"Why...so soon?"
Annabeth giggled, though it wasn't funny.
"I'm afraid I did speak the Goddess' name...and she might have thought...a serious discussion...was not what we needed."
Her clothes fell on the floor, and Annabeth enjoyed very much the lustful expression of Perseus Jackson.
"Are you sure?"
Annabeth kissed him, and then they lost themselves in a hurricane of passion.
20 February 2007, Forge HV-1, under Mount Etna, Sicily
Aphrodite smiled in satisfaction as a black-haired Demigod began to ravish a blonde Demigoddess.
It was good that her attention had been attracted to them; otherwise she had a feeling this serious but all too dramatic conversation would have lasted more hours and there would have been little passion left.
No, better let the two unleash their Lust and Love. The two were made for each other, and with the daughter of Hecate thrown into the cauldron of Passion on top of that, the trio had a lot of potential, more than she'd seen since some couples from the French Revolution.
Aphrodite whispered a word, and the mirror stopped showing the Inevitable Doom. It was a normal glass once again, though one which had several security systems that a non-Goddess would find extremely difficult to deactivate without suffering major injuries.
"How ironic," the Goddess of Love said sweetly. "The current Throne of the Sea and the Throne of Wisdom can't stand each other, yet their favourite children are perfectly willing to break the taboos we immortals have acknowledged as unwritten traditions."
A child of Bacchus with two daughters of Bellona also was an explosive combination. Lust, War, and Madness?
It had happened a few times before, but not that often. Whether as Aphrodite or Venus, there had been plenty of instances where the children of Wine faltered and fell, their desires unable to coexist with their poor opinions of themselves.
Something told her that this time, it would be very different.
Aphrodite changed her hairstyle into a warrior's braid, and entered one of the true workshops of Forge HV-1.
The atmosphere was evidently volcanic.
Gigantic magma pipes were everywhere above her head and below her feet, pumping a quantity of incandescent molten rocks that mortals would have thought impossible.
Yet it wasn't, not for the genius of the God of the Forge.
In this atmosphere of Fire, evidently, mortals couldn't hope to survive for long. But it was not a problem, for tens of thousands of automatons were on the move, hammering metallic plates for the star-chariots of the Olympians, breaking old divine weapons before forging them anew into different instruments of death.
The quantity of objects that were meeting their end was prodigious, but such was the productivity of the Forge that the number of creations outnumbered them fifty to one.
In the middle of this song of industry and relentless inventiveness, Hephaestus was working, perfect statue of bronze that no Fire or explosion was able to slow down for a second.
Slowly, Aphrodite let the human shell fade away, revealing the divine silver statue that had become her prison and her source of pride.
"The Suicide Squad is approaching Panama, husband. You wanted to be warned."
Her hands touched his shoulders, and the touch alone felt good.
"No trace of the Sire of the Drakons?"
"None." Aphrodite couldn't help but show a grimace. "There are regular rotations now, of course. And even Discord and Vengeance have agreed to participate in the hunts. But no one has found the shadow of a scale. One might think that a serpent of that size wouldn't be able to go unnoticed-"
"But one would be very wrong," the sole and only son of Hera to remain among the Council finished. "I don't like this, Aphrodite. I don't like this at all."
"Neither do I," she answered. "And since we can be honest with each other...the choice of the Sire's allies concern me greatly."
Commodus may have been a useful patsy for them, but Prometheus and Midas? Those two were entirely different stories. Ruthless, amoral, uncaring about the collateral damage their plans unleashed; those two were ancient problems that by all rights should have been contained millennia ago.
Unfortunately, they weren't.
Hephaestus took her in his large arms.
Under their respective forms, it amused her that now, he was easily twice her size, and as good-looking if not more than all her old lovers.
"I am ready."
"Are you sure?"
To say their relationship had grown considerably better was an understatement; before his release from Forge MP-42, they would never have admitted such things to each other.
"I have grown too used to the status quo. I have tolerated for too long the millions of worshippers who preached that Peace had to go hand in hand with Love."
She was trying to change this, oh yes.
But it was going to take time. Several parts of her had grown too meek, too pleased with cosmetics and beauty away from the battlefields.
"I am not an Oracle, but I can feel a Great War is coming." Aphrodite let the parts of Venus that hadn't been absorbed yet merge with her. "I remain strong enough to handle the average Titan, but most of my old ferocity and Domains are sluggish at best. And you know what it means."
"Your sons and your daughters are stronger than the other Demigods believe."
"They are, when it comes to their inner strengths." She replied. "But let's be honest, strength of the soul will not be enough. Piper was certainly the strongest of my Roman children, and it meant absolutely nothing because I was content to leave her with her father. She lived an innocent life...and she was absolutely defenceless for an enemy like Commodus."
It had ended in a pleasant outcome, but without Perseus Jackson, the disaster could have been one the size of an entire country.
"My children were given Love and many gifts, but these gifts were for a time of peace. I can't change the past, the parts of my Aspect they were given is there to stay inside them. If Love is to get stronger, if I am to push them to become stronger and fight for what they lust and love, I have to be the one to give the example."
Aphrodite embraced her husband.
"I have to become something new. Something better."
"You want to become a weapon."
There was small light of amusement in Hephaestus' eyes.
"I'm told you have a certain talent in that field, husband."
"And you are perfectly right!" For all his lack of confidence in some fields, Hephaestus was very proud about smith skills, as well as his abilities when it came to instruments of war. "But you know what it will do to you."
"The process that began in Forge MP-42 will be irreversible, yes." Aphrodite breathed out. "I don't care."
Hephaestus kissed her. It was rough, improvised...and she absolutely liked it.
Passion threatened to overwhelm them, as all around them the Fires of the Earth beat harder and harder.
"Let me become a weapon for the wars to come, Hephaestus." Greek and Roman Aspects became one. There was only Lust and Love, and the Fires of Passion that had been mere candles were now a caldera raging hotter than anything she'd felt before. "Let me become your weapon."
"Aphrodite...it's a one-sided journey."
"Until death tears us apart, Hephaestus. Maybe it's time to renew our oaths, no?"
The rest of the Olympus would mention afterwards how Mount Etna erupted for twenty consecutive days afterwards.
Aphrodite didn't care that how much time had been spent, and her husband didn't raise any complaints either.
21 February 2007, somewhere in the Straits of Malacca, South-eastern Asia
The shock was violent.
Then again, the machete-armed warriors were the members of the sixth and last ship, and had had the time to prepare, unlike the others.
"FOR TREASURE AND LIBERTY!"
"FOR THE BROTHERHOOD!"
"FOR BLACKBEARD!"
"ONWARDS AND TRY TO CAPTURE THE OFFICERS, THEY WILL FETCH A NICE RANSOM!"
There were things that never changed.
They had been gone for centuries; the world had changed and not waited for them.
But attacking merchant ships was still the same pleasure.
There were new weapons; the ships had grown bigger.
But the men sailing the seas had not changed at all.
Steel sang. The guns fired everywhere.
Blackbeard laughed, right as his sword severed limbs and defeated several opponents.
These men weren't enemies of his skill, but after the Sea of Monsters, both his veterans and his new recruits needed some easy jobs to rebuild their confidence anyway.
They needed funds too.
The ransom for many of these ships and these crews would go a long way into acquiring proper ships and securing the loyalty of the newcomers.
"THIS WORLD IS A WORLD OF PIRATES!" He roared. "WE WHO FIGHT UNDER THE JOLLY ROGER SALUTE YOU!"
Several heads of stubborn souls rolled; the men were brave, but didn't know when they were beaten.
And then after a few seconds, it was over.
The last of the warriors defending the ship threw down its weapons in surrender, preferring to not join the ones Edward and his lieutenants had sent to Hades.
"Lafitte! Secure the bridge!"
"Yes, Captain!"
"You! The engines! And this time, I want the specialists unarmed and cooperative!"
"I will make sure our boys will not touch a single hair of them, Admiral!"
"Good!"
Last time, he had had to miss a significant ransom because his old crew had a lot of difficulties with modern technology, and without understanding, it was near-impossible to steal one of the big merchant ships or the oil tankers that sailed the oceans in the twenty-first century.
"The other ships?"
"We're bringing them in proper order, Captain. But we will need several more minutes to give them new courses. They manoeuvre like pigs, these hulls."
"Good," the son of Ares repeated. "We still have some time before the local navies react, but best to not abuse it."
"Maybe, Lafitte was right, Captain."
"We could have attacked Singapore from the very start."
"Attacking the harbour and the city itself? Yes. But we could never have hoped to seize a significant portion of it, never mind conquered it and turned into a proper base! There weren't enough of us then...and there still aren't, for that matter."
The legendary Pirate shook his head.
"No, first, we need to grow our legend, build up our reputation. Men need to flock to our banners, Doc. Only then, we will have the strength to go after Singapore, and make it a new Tortuga that will proclaim to the world that the Age of Pirates is not over!"
There was a flash.
There was something flying in the sky.
There was-
"It looks like a man is falling from the heavens, Captain. What is this new-"
There was a giant explosion.
It was one of the nearby captured ships, the Demigod acknowledged with stupefaction.
"No. Not again! I won't be denied again!"
But the wind carried the screams of the pirates that had rallied his banners.
Communications broke down.
Several of the small motor boats tried to veer off-course, to flee as fast as possible from the aquatic battlefield that had turned against them.
It was useless.
Each time, arrows thrown at supersonic speeds hit the high-speed boats, and inflicted devastating damage, throwing everyone aboard into the sea.
It shouldn't be that easy.
These were his men, his pirates.
Many of them had survived the insanity of the Sea of Monsters with him.
They had fought monsters, Demigods, and worse.
They had survived Perseus Jackson.
They couldn't be defeated so easily.
Except they were.
One by one, the captured ships were demolished, his men plunging into the sea rather than to face the enemy coming after them.
Edward Teach wanted to curse, to insult their lack of courage.
Blackbeard didn't speak.
It wasn't cowardice to flee when something was so beyond you none of your weapons were able to stop the disaster from occurring.
And of course, the source of the carnage wasn't alone.
Soon enough, there were flying chariots arriving over the battlefield, and they were throwing giant nets all over it, capturing his men.
This was definitely not something improvised. His current raid had been anticipated, and turned into a trap.
The son of Ares felt it coming.
Fate was on the move, and he could do nothing to stop it.
The pressure was monstrous.
His men fled; most imitated the other ships' attack forces, deciding to risk a meeting with sharks than face the power coming to end their piracy career.
He came.
One good thing that could be said was that while Blackbeard had only seen him once in his life, it was not difficult to recognise him.
The incredibly potent presence.
The muscles and this aura of invincibility.
The Nemean Lion cloak. The huge mace.
"Hercules."
"Edward Teach," the God answered. "Or do you prefer Blackbeard?"
"Any name will do." The old Demigod replied. "I presume this is the message that the protection offered by my father is hereby withdrawn."
"Correct. He is not a member of the Council anymore." The former Demigod shrugged. "If you had stayed in the Sea of Monsters, they would have closed their eyes."
"How could I when I had been forced to stay away from the pleasures of civilisation for so long?"
It wasn't like it mattered anyway. What was done, was done, and his decision had proven to be more dangerous than he had thought.
"One thing bothers me, though. By the Ancient Laws, you aren't supposed to use your true divine appearance or to use more than one-hundredth of your might. That's the problem when a God intervenes in Demigod affairs."
"I respected the Ancient Laws."
Blackbeard grimaced.
What a terrifying prospect...none of his men had even been able to slow down Hercules.
"It was, to be honest, barely enough to give me a light training exercise."
The God was trying to enrage him; this was incredibly obvious.
It didn't mean it wasn't an efficient tactic. Rage was beginning to burn in his heart.
"We Demigods don't strangle several snakes when we're barely out of our cribs. We don't accomplish Labours against army-killer monsters."
"No. You just attack every ship in sight, stealing everything that was never yours to take."
Blackbeard laughed. He was sure it did not come out as a pleasant sound.
"Please, Hercules! We could take millions of Drachmas worth in ransoms and loot, and it would still end up as a rounding error for the Gods sitting on top of the world. You and your siblings sit atop giant piles of treasure, and even the wealthiest Demigods had ever had nothing but pocket money compared to the Olympians. We want to be wealthy! We want a part of the big cake! If it is a crime, I proudly proclaim myself the most audacious robber of the Seven Seas!"
Hercules didn't immediately reply. This brought a small measure of comfort. Whatever the son of Zeus had become, at least he wasn't a complete hypocrite.
"You aren't going to lay down your weapons like the others did?"
"To be imprisoned in the cells of Malta? I will pass."
"Actually, we use a vast prison complex under Alcatraz these days."
"I thank you for the precision, but my answer stays the same." Blackbeard grinned. "Let's see if you are as strong as the rumours say."
His Telumkinesis activated.
The effort was considerable, but Edward had always been a strong child of War.
In a few breaths, he was able to conjure hundreds of swords and axes.
A few more seconds, and he added to it over one hundred more blades.
"RAAAAGGHHHHHH!"
He unleashed everything.
Most of his strength and everything he could bear were poured in that violent, desperate, incredibly forceful assault.
There was an immense sound of metal breaking.
Blackbeard's eyes widened.
"It is...impossible."
The metal blades lied all broken on the deck, a large circle of shattered steel surrounding his enemy.
Only a few had hit their mark.
And they were unable to even pierce the skin of the son of Zeus.
An instant later, they fell too, and the sound resonated like a herald announcing the opening of the gallows.
"My turn."
The huge mace was raised like it was weighed nothing.
Blackbeard raised his last sword and charged.
The next second, his world exploded in pain and blood.
21 February 2007, the Fields of Punishment, the Underworld
If someone was shown the sessions of torture that had happened recently, he was sure plenty of mortals would stop being impressed with werewolves.
Yes, they weren't vulnerable to anything but silver. But that just meant silver nails and the smallest objects made of the metal were inflicting endless torment to the bearers of the Curse of Lycaon.
"My Lord?"
"I apologise, Megaera. I was distracted. You were saying?"
In the distance, Commodus screamed as Alecto crucified him. That there were plenty of silver nails involved and that the Narcissist Emperor was pushed to the edge of lupine transformation went without saying.
The suffering was felt by half of the Fields of Punishment.
"I'm afraid, my Lord, that Commodus spilled everything he knew. The teams that stormed the depots we got the coordinates of report that most of them were abandoned long ago. Some in fact may not have been used more than once, when Commodus was given the orders to arrange black market affairs in the first place."
"They never trusted him."
It was, to be fair, a really sensible decision, for trusting someone like Commodus was really the first step on your way to an early grave, or to the Pit of Tartarus.
"I think it is worse than that, my Lord. I think...per the Titan's own words, they truly considered him a tool."
It sadly made sense. Everything suggested that while Commodus 'winning' the Adjudicator Challenge would have caused an enormous amount of chaos, it wouldn't have resulted in a stable Apotheosis for 'Neo Hercules'.
Why tell your pawn sensitive information, if he was going to fail at the end of the plan?
"The operational security of the Coalition is very good." The blue-clad Fury continued, her face making it evident that she didn't like recognising it. "I'm pretty sure the three leaders we have information about chose to reveal themselves, though perhaps the actions of Perseus Jackson revealed a bit more than they wanted. The others? We have some rumours, a few guesses, and indirect information that can remove a few suspects from the lists."
Commodus shrieked in agony as for the first time today, Alecto began the torture that would make him a eunuch. The vat of boiling silver near her was a clue her intentions on the subject went far past the 'operation', however.
"The Coalition is a major threat, one far more dangerous than the Triumvirate ever was, is, and will be," and it said something, for the Triumvirate had a Goddess on their side now.
But there was little they could do for now, unless Olympus managed to find out one of true hideouts where the Coalition leadership was waiting patiently before striking again.
"The search in the Zones Mortalis has resulted in no useful leads."
"I didn't expect it to result in a major breakthrough. But it had to be tried."
Hades wanted to say it was Zeus' fault, a symbol of how nepotism had destroyed the surveillance abilities of the Council to respond to proper threats.
But after almost getting usurped by his own daughter, the Lord of the Underworld didn't think he had the right to sermon anyone about this particular problem.
For that matter, Hades had never imagined that the crumbling remnants of Arcadia could be useful for anything, never mind providing a refuge for anyone.
Pan was dead. The ruins of his old home had been abandoned by everyone, including his Satyrs, who were still fanatical about his memory.
Why would anyone have thought about searching for something here?
"Enough about the Coalition for now. The bureaucratic investigations to find the names of all escapees will continue. Let's speak of Commodus himself."
"The special prison is complete, my Lord, and we have already an extremely sophisticated cell to make his eternity a hell that won't have any equivalent anywhere but the Pit."
"I have no doubt about this." Hades smiled. "But there are politics involved."
"Politics, my Lord? I don't think some of the Gods and Goddesses above have any right to open their mouths! They already should be on their knees before Perseus Jackson for having saved the day from the problems they allowed to happen under their watch!"
Hades laughed.
"Yes, Megaera, you have a point." The King of Hell replied. "And rest assured, I am not going to invite my nephew and nieces in my realm anytime soon. That said, after a multitude of letters, I have decided to compromise."
"In what way, my Lord?
A massive roll of parchment was teleported from his office.
When it was unrolled, it was revealed to be more than a kilometre in length...and it was getting longer.
"This is the 'List of Tortures Olympus politely requests you inflict on Commodus'."
"I like the name, my Lord." Megaera licked her lips. "But why is it getting longer?"
"Because it is a self-updating document, my dear. And the Olympians are quite vengeful, especially when divine usurpations are involved."
"As you say, my Lord. Let's see...coating the rapist in a mixture where Honey and Nectar have been added in lavish quantities, before letting the Cannibal Ants of the Pit devour him piece by piece. All the while small doses of Pit Scorpions will be injected in his genital parts. That's cruel!"
Yes, yes, it was. If it hadn't been Commodus, Hades would have required a unanimous vote from a trio of Judges before himself taking a week of deliberation to approve or not the punishment.
But it was the punishment of Commodus.
No deliberation was necessary for this.
"Who suggested this?" Megaera asked before reading the next line. "Oh right, Artemis."
The Erinye frowned.
"Sometimes, my Lord, your niece worries me."
"Oh, believe me Megaera, it's not the first time I am worried about my niece."
"Yes. Ahem. Second proposal: drowning the bastard into an alcoholic beverage which will have fermented with a base of Nemean Lion's fluids. I don't even need to read that one, I know who recommended it."
Yes, that was Dionysus, no doubt about it.
"Third proposal...is it even possible to transform him into a house cat?" The Fury stopped reading. "It's going to take a few months to put all these ideas into practise, my Lord."
"We have all the time in the world, Megaera." Hades bared his teeth. "Or to use a more appropriate and charming expression, Commodus is here at your pleasure, and is not going anywhere until his sentence is served."
The howling in the distance told the King of Hell that yes, Alecto and Tisiphone had listened to every word of this conversation.
Hades wasn't troubled by it. Commodus had gambled massively all his crimes wouldn't catch up with him before he became a powerful God.
With everything having collapsed upon his head, it was only fair Hades told the entire world that vile actions earned extremely violent punishments in Hell.
21 February 2007, Super-Mega-Yacht Inevitable Doom, somewhere in the Caribbean Sea
"RRIIIIIIIIICH! WE ARE SOOOOO RIIIIIICHHHHH! SESTERCES AND DRACHMAS, I LOVE YOU!"
"Oh come on, not again..."
And yes, Richard to step aside to avoid a collision with delirious penguins he would rather avoid.
"You should stop that." He said to their crazy leader once he was in the conference room.
"I should stop what?"
"Exciting the penguins!" The son of Hercules rolled his eyes. "Among other things."
"It's not my fault they are so impressionable."
Richard glared at the son of Poseidon. Unfortunately, the younger Demigod had never been the kind to be cowed by a glare alone, and today was no exception.
"I should add 'unlike you, my muscular lieutenant'."
"I am not your girlfriend, but I can add two plus two, Jackson." Richard rolled his eyes. "I know we've been rewarded with sixty-six million Drachmas. Yes, I'm very happy. Yes, I know it's a considerable sum."
It was likely the biggest amount of cash Olympus had handed to a group of Questers since World War Two, and it was a single payment.
"But once we begin dividing the spoils, the amount of money decrease. I'm not blind; some of the biggest sums during your first Great Quest were possible because they were about twelve of you at the end. It is not the case here."
He also had seen Jackson promise some 'blood's debt' payment to the Telekhines before departing the Forge of All Perils. Then there were the Roman survivors, who had not been included, but would need to be taken into account at some point. And last but not least, not all their members who perished had died as traitors. Obviously, the near-totality of the Huntresses could be forgotten. The Suicide Squad wasn't going to pay anything when their own family was the Hunt, and their Goddess was an ungrateful bitch.
"This is true, from a certain point of view." Perseus grinned. "But the money we got rewarded with by certain Gods and Goddesses is not the only rewards earned by the Suicide Squad, oh lieutenant."
Richard Grant froze for several seconds, digging inside his memories.
"Chrysaor," the adult Demigod spoke after a long moment of reflexion. "You looted everything valuable aboard his ship."
"And since I didn't want to keep anything but a few trinkets, I sold the entire cargo to Atlantis." Perseus confirmed shamelessly. "For less than one hour of battle, it was a very profitable enterprise."
Richard had been a bit more concerned about other things, like the ruthless punishment their leader had made sure Chrysaor would get. He hadn't counted the piles of treasure.
"How much?"
"Eight million Drachmas, give or take."
He couldn't help but whistle in appreciation. Yeah, the Olympians rewarded them with more, but it was for the entire Quest, which included the mad 'Twelve Labours' of this narcissist-rapist of Commodus.
"It was, I admit, a very profitable battle."
"It was." The red eye stared at him in amusement. "Really, now that I have the figures, Annabeth told me it was the second most profitable battle of our adventures."
Richard snorted.
"The first being the Forge of All Perils, right?"
"Of course."
Yes, he should have known. Now that the Curses on the weapons were all broken or cancelled, there was trove of things that could be sold to the highest bidder. And that wasn't counting the fact the Telekhines were more or less 'borrowing' the Forge to Perseus and the Goddess Rhode. Or the rumours about everything Luke and others had been up to...
"How much?" He asked for the second time, and braced himself.
"Between forty and forty-two percent of what I wanted to sell have been traded away at the moment we speak." The grin grew quickly very, very smug. "I will be able to add about one hundred and ten million Drachmas to the fortune we will divide between each other at New Byzantium."
Richard tried to hide it, but okay, he was very impressed.
"It is before we pay taxes to the Owl Goddess, right?" With Annabeth Chase as Perseus' financial secretary, the odds of it escaping the Athena's vigilance was not worth the headache.
"No, no, it is after."
He swallowed. How much money had it been before?
"Right," he tried to calm himself. "Should I fear for my heart when I know what else what the products of pillage and looting have earned us?"
"Little, I'm afraid," Perseus affirmed, in a very disappointed expression. "After that, we got in battles where most of our surroundings got destroyed, and we sure as the Pit hadn't the opportunity to loot anything. Be it the Battle of Pear Island, the Clash of the Titans, or Commodus' Last Stand, we were prevented several times from acquiring more enemy wealth. And the toys we got from Forge MP-42 are useful enough that we aren't going to sell them."
"That makes sense...but still, over one hundred million Drachmas..."
"Richard, the God of Trade pays at least ten times that amount of taxes to Olympus in a single year. In fact, all the Olympians earn more than the Drachma sum we just earned in a single year, and yes, I'm adding both the spoils of the Forge of All Perils, Chrysaor's involuntary contribution, and the Olympians' rewards on top of each other. It also must be mentioned that it wasn't a single Olympian making the payment, though of course the Goddess of Love was the primary force behind it."
Richard grimaced, but found nothing to say. You didn't get old by being stupid, and all Demigods knew that the Olympians weren't just monstrously powerful, they also controlled more wealth than your imagination could likely thought of. Zeus being bankrupted temporarily had only happened because of Hera.
And yes, this meant the Demigods were abysmally poor because of a deliberate choice of their parents. The average Quests delivered pathetic payments that risked a lot for little gain.
"I suppose I stand corrected." It would take several hours to assimilate fully the information delivered in the last minutes. And no, he wasn't going to laugh hysterically accompanied by the squeaking of the penguins.
Maybe.
Probably.
"But I came for an entirely different discussion. A far less pleasant subject. About what happened inside the Forge of All Perils."
His expression must have been significant enough, because the grin faded away.
"I am going to get some pineapple juice. I have a feeling we're both going to need it."
It took several drinks and a long moment of silence to properly start.
"They wanted to use this eldritch power again in the Coliseum."
"They did."
"If you ask the God of Wine-"
"I did. I was rebuffed."
This time, Richard couldn't hide his surprise.
"I would have thought...well, that it wouldn't be a problem. Honestly, you already know quantity of things Olympus prefers you'd be ignorant about."
"I can't disagree. But this time, I was denied. There's apparently a big law about it, and the circumstances aren't dire enough to tolerate exceptions."
"Not dire enough?" Richard spoke with was no doubt an aghast voice. "Without you, we would have gotten a second Nocturna, except likely in Leopard form, or something close!"
The vivid memory of the Serpopard being enslaved to Prometheus was not the kind of thing you ever forgot.
"I can't be certain, having had no time for a deep analysis, but I don't think it was the Leopard. It's the God of Wine's favourite animal. But I could be wrong. I admit I don't know much about this very dangerous ritual."
"You must have some ideas, though."
"Oh, I have. Do you remember what Nocturna chose to don when it came to cursed artefacts, Richard?"
"Yes," the son of Hercules said slowly. "It was a pair of boots."
"Your memory is perfectly accurate."
"I must admit I wasn't paying attention about the fashion or anything about them. They were vaguely black, yes, but aside from that..."
"I saw them. And I can tell you that yes, they were black, but with an important detail: they were made of scales."
Of course. How had they missed that?
"Serpent scales."
"Yes."
"The boots were made of the skin of the Sire of the Drakons."
"Yes. A vector so he could channel the eldritch power, and direct the ritual from Arcadia." Perseus made an ugly grimace. "It goes without saying that with Otrera having donned a Cyber-Hoplite Armour, I couldn't exactly see anything. But I presume that if she had removed her equipment, a similar pair of boots would have become visible."
"Blood of monsters," Richard cursed.
The son of Poseidon didn't answer.
"How by the Pit did the Sire of the Drakons manage to fool everyone? I mean, yeah, he's shedding his skin like a snake. Yes, he can likely pay someone to make him a pair of boots out of it...or several. But the Sire was hiding in Arcadia, rarely staying out of it. And there were a lot of Frost Iguanas inside the Forge. Commodus or someone else from the Coalition would have had to fight their way through them."
"They would have to do that if the boots weren't sent here before the Forge of All Perils fell to the Drakon."
"Are we going to pretend the Super-Oracle can anticipate our actions centuries before we are born?"
"No." Perseus didn't grin, and his red eye was absolutely frightening now. "Oracles are far-sighted, but they can't predict the future with that level of accuracy. They are able to watch the plans of Fate itself before they are revealed to Demigods like us. Predicting that I could choose the Forge of All Perils as one of my destinations, and thus providing a book to influence the choice, yes, that's doable. But the boots were already there long before that."
"In that case, I admit I don't see how it could be done." Richard admitted while drinking more pineapple juice.
"I, unfortunately, can make an educated guess." And the leader of the Suicide Squad did not look at all pleased. "The biggest source of the Sire's scales was his corpse. You know, when he was killed the first time around. It is not like it is done repeatedly every Monday. Your father kept his trophy after slaying the Nemean Lion, for example."
"Err...yes." Richard snickered. "But the Nemean Lion isn't an Oracle, nor it is a particularly intelligent monster. I mean, sure, now that Panther Kowalski and all the others have become Nemean Lionesses, I am sure the intelligence of the species will massively skyrocket, but-"
The male Demigod's hilarity stopped, as he realised what he was saying.
That someone would have been stupid enough to make boots and other pieces of clothing from something as dangerous as an Oracle, who happened to be bigger than the Primordial Ice Drakon, another God-Beast.
"This...this would be utterly moronic. It would be the heights of stupidity."
"Yes." Perseus had a disgusted expression. "It would be petty. It would be childish. It would be insulting your enemy. Unlike with the Nemean Lion, the entire thing wouldn't be done to get some protection. While we don't know much about the battle which saw the Sire slain, due to a multitude of contradictory versions, it would be foolishness itself to make footwear while the corpse is not yet cold. But then nobody would do something so ridiculous as giving a slightly different name to the mortal girl living in the lair of the former Oracle, right?"
Yeah, it all fit.
Damn you, Apollo. Why couldn't the God of the Sun burn the corpse, and call it a day?
"It was supposed to be a mark of respect, according to the legends..."
"Last time I checked, Richard, the Sire of the Drakons wasn't female."
He winced. And yes, the arrow hit the target at the very centre of it.
"We have two Primordial Drakons roaming at large, plus the Sire, and the Olympians have done their best to screw up everything."
"It's worse than that, I'm afraid."
"How can it be worse?" Richard spat.
"Simple," the son of the Earthshaker replied without hesitation. "We don't know how many pair of boots have been made...assuming of course the creator of these serpentine items decided to limit himself to boots."
If Apollo wasn't a God, Richard would already be trying to find ways to strangle him.
"With the benefit of hindsight, maybe it's not the God of Wine you have to interrogate as fast as you can, Perseus."
"Assuming he is the creator of these boots..." Was Perseus trying to defend the God of Music and Healing? "No, I have no interest in defending him. He's the most likely culprit of this there is no doubt. And he chose the name for the First Oracle of Delphi. That isn't in question. But we don't know the circumstances of the slaying at all. In fact, I find the entire tale rather...fishy."
"How so? Michael's father killed the Sire of the Drakons."
Richard had never seen him fight, but Apollo wasn't a member of Council because of his smile and his atrocious poetry skills.
"If we were speaking about the God like he is today, I have no doubt the Sire has a good chance of receiving a significant defeat." The red eye grew thoughtful. "But it wasn't what happened. A very, very young God, one who lacked the Sun and plenty of his current Domains, challenged the Sire of the Drakons in the fullness of his powers. You've seen what I had to do to slay Fimbulvetr, Richard. The Goddess of Snow and Ice had to support me with enough divine power to go through its defences. And this Ice Drakon was never the Sire. It did not have any precognition powers."
In other words, there was no way Apollo as he was then could have won against Python alone.
The urge was strong to say he was wrong.
Except, of course, Perseus was rarely wrong when he decided to seriously investigate a point of their mythological past. The entire Second Great Quest was evidence enough of that.
"What are we going to do?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing?"
"We have just gained our diplomatic immunity, and for many reasons, Olympus does not believe the threat is so urgent as to put everyone on a war footing. So yes, there's nothing we can do. But once everything blows up once more, I will be there to shout 'I told you so' to the Olympians."
Perseus grinned again.
"And this time, they will have no choice but to spill their big secrets."
"I don't think your crazy logic will impress them very much," the son of Hercules felt he had to point out.
"My logic, no. But if there's something this Great Quest has proven, it is that the Council needs the Suicide Squad to win the day."
Perseus drank more pineapple juice before continuing.
"Without us, who would fight the battles that the other Demigods will lose?"
22 February 2007, New Constantinople, United States of America (de jure)
"According to the Legion's gossip, the Inevitable Doom has been observed crossing back the Panama Canal from west to east with the golden pennants."
"They're still alive?" Frank exclaimed.
"Well, the Consuls didn't exactly confide in me or announced who was alive and who wasn't," Jason joked.
"Oh, I know." The son of Mars nodded quickly. "Damn. When the Titan announced they were to fight the God of War, I was sure they were done for."
The son of Jupiter didn't miss how his friend had said 'God of War' and not 'my father'.
"I wouldn't have bet a Sesterce on them at the time. And since the live feed abruptly switched out after that and didn't return...assumptions were made."
"Yes," Frank Zhang managed to cough off a laugh. "Assumptions were made, all right."
Several people had rushed to the bookmakers, arguing with them that surely, it meant the Suicide Squad had perished for good, this time. Other parties had decided otherwise, and not a single coin had been delivered for now, with plenty of people waiting for official news.
For some reason, the Olympians and every divine party who made a temporary detour to New Constantinople were very, very tight-lipped.
Something big must have happened, Jason knew.
Or something bigger, since the 'Twelve Labours' had not exactly been short of big revelations.
"They're going to be legends in their own right." Frank remarked. Jason knew that was saying the obvious, but there were some jealous parties who had refused to acknowledge the evidence the first time around.
"Yes. There were few Questers alive who could boast having survived a Great Quest."
All of them, it must be noted, were incredibly eccentric.
"But none of them did ever complete two Great Quests in their entire lives, never mind the same decade."
Frank rolled his eyes.
"Talk about bloody over-achievers."
"I think the word you missed is crazy, Frank."
"Perseus Jackson was crazy before going on a Great Quest. That, or he had a death wish. I can't decide which version is correct."
"And this is better than the eccentric heroes that are quarantined away from the rest of the population because?"
Jason frowned.
"I don't think we can use the word 'better' in that sort of circumstances...or ever, really." The blonde Legionnaire replied.
"On a totally related matter...does Octavian know, in your opinion?"
"I WILL KILL HIM! I WANT HIM DEAD! I WILL HAVE HIM DEAD TO RIGHTS THE MOMENT HE RETURNS!"
The scream of outrage was so powerful it scared off the many birds of the city.
Jason began to laugh. It was way too good, and besides, he wasn't the only Legionnaire who did it; dozens were snickering or outright giggling around them.
"Yes. I think we can affirm Octavian McArthur is now aware of the Suicide Squad's return."
Jason continued to show how he found it hilarious, before sobering up.
"Though honestly, Frank, I wish you wouldn't have freed him from his golden imprisonment."
"Believe me, Jason, I regret very much freeing him, and I didn't do it on purpose. And yes, I know, my clumsiness will kill me one day. But how in the name of the Pantheon could I know that mule's milk was the secret ingredient to remove the Curse of Midas the daughter of Magic had cursed Octavian and his lieutenants with?"
"You couldn't," Jason agreed readily. "Just don't expect the higher-ups to compliment you for that, however. They were thinking the little bastard was at last no longer there to make himself a nuisance. That said..."
"You aren't going to agree with them, right? Right?"
"No, I don't." Jason reassured his friend. "I was just going to say that I find the coincidence a bit troubling. The cart with all these containers of mule's milk passing before the gold statues right as several other animals in panic spread chaos all around? This feels more than a simple coincidence. One might say it was something above what a Demigod could influence."
This was the kind of 'amusement' Discordia, Roman Goddess of Chaos and Strife, had made her reputation upon.
"Coincidence or not, Octavian McArthur is back." Frank grimaced.
"Back, but not unscathed," the son of Jupiter corrected. "He's likely going to be thrown out of the Legion tomorrow."
"Under what charges?"
"Desertion, of course; he after all abandoned his men in the Sea of Monsters and returned home without Godly permission."
The charges were a bit vengeful and not exactly made in good faith, yes.
"His family has likely the money to save his head."
"They probably can, yes. But even for them, the sum is a big hit to their funds. They aren't going to close their eyes on Octavian's actions anymore. And they will demand the little bastard repay everything."
Frank snorted loudly.
"And how can he do that in the first place? An officer's pay in the Legions is one of the few ways to make a fortune if you have no big household behind you, and you were just saying he was going to be thrown out of the Fulminata!"
"HIS SUPER-YACHT MUST BURN! HIS PENGUINS MUST DIE! HIS ALLIES MUST BE THROWN IN A JAIL WITH THE KEYS LOST INTO SOME MONSTERS' BELLIES!"
"Frank, as much as we Roman love service in the Legions, I regret to inform you that there's another way for Demigods to earn plenty of money."
The son of Mars looked at him like he had said the world was flat.
"Jason, Octavian hates the Greeks and the Questers, and not necessarily in that order."
"Yes."
"You think he's going to accept joyously to live next to them...no, to become one?"
"Joyously? No." Jason laughed again. "But if he wants to avoid the ugly fate of those who need to pay back their debts, his choices are going to be very thin on the ground."
"I should feel bad to think that, but Gods be witness, the little bastard deserves it."
"PERSEUS JACKSON! I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!"
"Oh, he does. Still, I would have loved you to not have freed him from his gold prison, Frank. As it was, only three of his lieutenants and himself were still alive. A few more days, and the mule's milk would have had no effect anymore; the curse would have been permanent."
"I know Jason, and believe me, I very much regret it." Frank winced. "Do you think I will be able to make amends for it when he will be thrown out of the Legion?"
"What were you thinking about?"
"If mule's milk was the secret ingredient to cancel the curse, maybe flour is the top-secret ingredient to reactivate it?"
"Frank, my friend, I love your reasoning!"
"I WILL KILL YOU JACKSON!"
There was a Prophecy.
It was not uttered by any Great Oracle. There was no cataclysmic weather, and there were no witnesses.
It was delivered by a voice coming out of a tomb, and it told a twelve-year-old boy that he wouldn't live to see his thirteen birthday.
Someone would have seen it as a final curse in a miserable existence.
The boy, a Prince whose existence was seen by disgust by the majority of the royal household, saw it as liberating.
Why bother whimpering and living a meek existence when everything is about to end soon enough?
When conspirators came in the middle of the night, the boy accepted.
The government was toppled.
The Prince became a Tyrant, and the men who had thought him easier to control than his benevolent nephew soon rued their mistake.
They learned no one was capable of controlling tyranny, much as mortals can do nothing but rage against the storm.
When he was thirteen, the boy didn't die. Fate and Prophecies couldn't be broken; but with the right push, they could be guided.
Thirteen Wishes were to be used, one for each year that the boy should have lived.
It was, some heroic figures would believe, utter madness.
It was villainous.
It was the very symbol of the struggle between Gods.
By sixteen, the boy had declared war against all his neighbours, and soon, the sparks would burn all of Creation.
This was announced by no Prophecy.
Good gathered its heroes, and heroes did fail to defeat the Tyrant.
How could they, when first part of the plan couldn't fail, and the boy always had a new plan to put into motion?
It was a complicated idea.
It was a pleasure to make it work.
For a time, I was the boy.
For a time, I was the Tyrant.
For a time, sweet victory was mine.
And in the end, no, it wasn't the Heroes who were the solution.
I was invincible.
Until the return of the Queen.
24 February 2007, Seville, Spain
The scenery was the old town of Seville.
Prometheus had chosen it himself.
He found it oddly pleasing: the coloured houses, the nearby presence of the Old Alcazar, and the food!
Yes, many restaurants were not opened in February, but the food was excellent. Seville was an excellent place to visit if you loved food. The north of Spain could be forgotten, but here in Andalusia, culinary traditions stayed strong to please your mouth and your tongue.
Just for this, Prometheus visited regularly.
It was a pleasing coincidence that since it was winter, the tourists were rather thin on the ground, and as a result so were the spies of Olympus.
There were no security problems, or at least not the ones which would have existed if he had tried to push for a meeting in June or July.
The meeting location, he had chosen with care.
It was a very small interior court, and the mortal owners were all in holiday at the moment.
The place had been discreetly sealed away from the outside world, before it was allowed to expand far beyond its original size.
Then one by one, the shadowy thrones had been conjured into existence.
His had been the first, of course, with the defeated Queen of Amazons leashed to it.
Yes, of course, he could have left Otrera somewhere else before coming here.
But he hadn't.
In his opinion, the former Bride of Ares was perfect. Perfect to make sure some of his co-conspirators took the situation seriously. The message was clear: screw up massively enough while thinking you knew better than him, and nobody would be able to save you from the consequences of your epic failure.
Prometheus stayed silent for several minutes as the senior figures of the Coalition answered the call.
In the end, none denied him.
One by one, not counting his seat, there were nine Thrones occupied out of the eleven available.
"Gentlemen, I wish you a good morning."
No one answered. Aside from the Coalition, these beings had little in common. Maybe a few would be called 'allies' or even 'friends', but there were the exception, not the rule.
And besides, the majority thought that salutations were a waste of time.
"I am happy to inform you that so far, Olympus is reacting Commodus' failures exactly as we thought they would."
"They are indeed increasing their influence and pressure all across the world to make billions embrace Greek-Roman worship." Midas spoke with his usual sarcasm. "Smith International. Mercury Unlimited. Trident Shipyards. They have decided to not be subtle about it anymore."
"Laugh all you want," came a feminine voice, "but their effort to convert worshippers are bearing fruit. The number of worshippers they have has increased by several millions this month alone, and it's becoming more and more efficient, especially in America and Europe."
"Yes." Prometheus took back control of the meeting with long ease of habit. "This is why I think the moment has come."
Yes, all the nine beings were not exactly sanguine about the idea.
"Do you agree, Oracle?"
Python hissed loudly.
"The Three Prophecies are active."
"Three?" Midas called out.
"Three," the Sire of the Drakons confirmed. "The most recent one, the one that everyone here is aware of, that announces the coming of a Demigod reaching sixteen against all odds. In the end, he or she will make the great choice to preserve or raze Olympus."
There were several mutters. One of them suspiciously sounded like 'Perseus Jackson', it must be said.
Prometheus didn't even raise an eyebrow at that. It was true the son of Poseidon was a highly likely candidate for it.
"The second one is hardly recent," Python continued, the hisses mixing with the human words. "It is the old Prophecy, the Curse of the Sky itself. Much like his Father before him, the current King of the Gods will be overthrown by one of his children."
"One would have thought," a calm, cultivated voice commented neutrally, "that it would have ensured the Lord of Thunder controlled his urges and stopped fornicating with every female that he found beautiful."
"One would have thought this, yes." Prometheus agreed lightly.
To be honest, he had never understood Zeus when it came to that. It was bad enough Ouranos and Kronos had indeed been overthrown by their children, and in their cases the Prophecies had specified their vanquishers would be divine. This detail had been absent for the one who was delivered to Zeus. It could be any child of the Master of Olympus.
And at the risk of saying the incredibly obvious, there were a lot of children who could claim Zeus or Jupiter was their sire these days.
"And the Third Prophecy...this Prophecy has just been begun reasserting itself. It announces the return of the Threat."
Plenty of the beings assembled grimaced. Prometheus himself wasn't very happy about it either. The Threat was no laughing matter, and without Python, he wouldn't even have known what was coming.
"I still think the current strategy represents a massive danger, Lord Chairman."
The Titan of Crafty Counsel was hardly surprised. The argument had often come back lately. It had the merit of being true, after all.
"We need power." Prometheus reminded his co-conspirators. "If we miss a step, if we wait for too long, we will either find ourselves in a bitter war of attrition with Olympus. One we will certainly lose, to be honest."
The Olympians had a multitude of flaws, but they were all powerful immortals. The same couldn't be exactly said for the Coalition at the moment. There was a reason why many of them had stayed hidden for many centuries, if not longer.
"And if the Threat rises while we have been unable to secure our plans? What if there is no new order sufficiently strong to come out of the ashes of Olympus?"
"Then we will all lose in the end, and our defeat will be terrifyingly fast and humiliating." Prometheus replied truthfully. "But then, it is going to happen to the Master of Olympus and his court of spoiled children. Unlike us, they don't have the choice to hide."
"It is too soon. We miss two members to make it twelve."
"Then we better contact worthy candidates, no?" Midas smiled viciously.
"It is too soon," one protested. "Yes, we didn't lose that many resources when Commodus got himself killed proving his stupidity for the whole world, but we had to stay discreet and hide our supply lines as best as we could. We need time!"
Prometheus clasped his hands.
"Some time for the preparations, I can give you. I need time on my own to make sure the tools are positioned exactly where we want them."
"And the Suicide Squad? They came incredibly close to ruin everything."
Midas was the one to answer first.
"It is almost certain Olympus will send them the moment we make our move and Godly intervention proves impossible." The Treasurer of the Coalition shrugged. "They will be incredibly dangerous opponents; I don't think anyone here is going to pretend otherwise."
No, they wouldn't. Doing so would make them as bad as Commodus, and the rumours of the tortures the werewolf ex-Emperor was on the receiving end of guaranteed a certain level of humility for everyone who had dreamed of following on his footsteps.
"The Suicide Squad has proven tenacious, and more troublesome than the Argonauts ever were. On the other hand, their great strength is also their weakness. They are a group of Questers. A formidable group, it goes without saying, but there weren't fifty of them, and the Coliseum showed their Demigod powers and endurance have limits. Anti-Demigod tactics will need to be perfected."
"I still find the reasoning extremely perilous, Lord Chairman." Naturally, it would be him who would be the loudest objector. "If the Wyld can't be turned into the weapon we need-"
"It will work." Python hissed. "The first tests worked as they should, didn't they? And in battle-conditions, we all learned very much of the test-rituals."
"Otrera was a massive failure."
The female Serpopard growled at the feet of his Throne, and was ignored with the scorn she deserved.
"Otrera was the lesson that getting predictable results in your opponents anticipating the threat and finding a way to stop the decisive blow before it is launched. I trust everyone has learned from it?"
A few of the Throne owners scowled.
Good, the lessons were getting learned, then.
"Let's admit for the moment you are right," the fiercest critic relented and admitted the Titan of Crafty Counsel's argument had hit their mark. "Which plan do we go for? With what the son of the Seas and the daughter of Hell have done, we can't launch Apocalypse."
"This is true." Prometheus conceded easily the point. "I was thinking about something special. One of the plans we kept in reserve."
"You're speaking about that plan?"
Prometheus didn't utter a single additional word; he merely nodded.
25 February 2007, Divus Senatus Council Chambers, Olympus
The Divus Senatus Council Chambers hadn't been used in a while, and in this case the 'while' was over two decades ago.
It was nothing very surprising: Zeus preferred to limit debates and policy arguments to the strict minimum when he ordered something, and it was far easier to do it when there were eleven immortals in the room than when they were one hundred and forty-three.
Moreover, when it was time to hear his brother's capricious tantrums, most of the Olympians agreed that the fewer witnesses there were, the better it was for everyone. It was already bad enough that operational security was inexistent, and that accurate resumes of an entire Council meeting could be found within three hours after its ending from at least two different sources.
"Some Gods are going to wonder why we don't do this more often." Pluto remarked, who had donned one of his usual black suits for the meeting.
Neptune snorted.
"You know why we don't do this more often." The Roman God of the Sea replied without bothering to lower his voice. "If we did, all the Gods and Goddesses present would begin to believe their voices matter when it comes to Olympian politics. And our youngest brother doesn't want that."
"I would have rather thought it was more the fact that so many of the hundred and forty-four do not live on Olympus that would be the problem." The Lord of the Underworld told him.
Neptune gave a glance to his surroundings to count. Yes, between Pluto's first wife and his, his violent daughter, in addition to several other Chthonian and Atlantean immortals, the room did not have the overwhelming majority of Olympus-based deities the Council did take for granted.
"You may have a point."
"You agree with me? That's a first today."
"I agree with you. Though I think you are way too optimistic. The Divine Senate is not a democracy."
"Oh, I know. It is just an assembly useful to show a spectacle of unity. It let our brother pretend he has listened to the opinion of everyone who has sworn vows to him."
His eyes fell upon the lonely seat on the right edge of the Throne assembly. The composition had changed a lot these last days, but everyone had swallowed both praises and insults, and the Gods and Goddesses had flowed into Olympus for this momentous event.
The Throne of Juno, in the end, was the only one who remained desperately empty if you didn't count the two big seats on the royal podium.
"Our sister is going to be a big problem when she will assimilate back her divine power."
Neptune grimaced.
Whether Hera or Juno, their sister had hardly been someone easy to live with.
But she had been someone that could be predicted. They had had millennia to get used to her moods, her Domains and what made her explode in fury – most of the time Zeus-Jupiter's infidelities.
Hera as a Goddess of Seasons was a totally different factor, one which was going to shatter a lot of things. The divorce to Zeus would have been something extraordinarily significant alone; her no longer holding Marriage was an additional hurricane who would eventually storm Olympus.
"If it's the kind of bad news you want me to be distracted with, I would have brought some rum."
"With the quantities your son dedicated to you, brother, I think you can afford the drinks."
"I don't have many that bottles." The God of the Seas protested.
"Because you empty them each time your son does something utterly ridiculous?"
"Perhaps." The truth was more 'yes, I do'. "For the moment, though, I don't have a bottle from the 'King's Collection'."
Pluto snickered.
"I told you that you were too close to your entire persona when you sired your son. Earthquakes, the Sea, the Voice of the Ocean...and that's just the ones he's been experimenting with for now."
"Should we discuss how much you've been giving your hellion of a daughter?" Neptune smirked back. "That is, until we see how much my son of is of a bad influence with your younger child."
The Lord of Hell groaned.
"When I arranged these Mythomagic cards to fall into his hands, I must have been drunk, and I assuredly didn't know what I was doing."
Yes, this had been something no one had seen coming. One could see the positive side, though: Uno and Mythomagic had benefitted from a massive upsurge in popularity right as the Adjudicator Challenge ended.
Conversations ended as Vesta left her throne, and within a few seconds, the twelve Hearts of the Chamber began to burn with the Eternal Flame.
"This session is hereby opened. Let Family rejoice, for we are together once more."
Their white-robed sister returned back to her Throne, looking more aggressive than she'd been in a century, and many Goddesses whispered in excitation.
"Things are changing rapidly," Pluto murmured.
"Our enemies do change just as fast as too," Neptune mused.
This conversation didn't go further; not when Jupiter himself entered the room.
For today, the Lord of Olympus had chosen to don his flamboyant purple toga, and the only thing besides that was his symbol of power, the original Master Bolt.
This, obviously, was a statement of power, indicating that whatever reverses he had suffered, the King of the Gods remained as strong as ever. And there was some support in favour: his financial situation had improved as taxes flowed back into the treasury, and the absence of a major war, courtesy of the Suicide Squad led by his son, had been a great relief for the non-military economy.
The eyes of his brother shone with traces of steel, and Neptune could almost read his thoughts: yes, in plenty of circumstances, Jupiter was worth following. The comparison with Zeus' paranoia and other unscrupulous behaviour couldn't have been more glaring.
"Brothers, sisters, nephews, nieces." Jupiter rumbled. "Lords and Ladies of Olympus, Atlantis, Cthonia, and many other bastions of civilisation. I present you the new Queen of the Gods."
The golden gates in the opposite direction their brother had come from opened, revealing her.
Victoria had chosen a toga too for today, of course. There had never been any doubt about that.
What neither Neptune nor Pluto had really anticipated that the Goddess of Victory would choose a golden-black toga to make her debut.
Why was it important? No, the black-coloured shoulders and the golden chest had no magical power by themselves. The same applied to the black trim which could be observed on key parts of the cloth.
It was just that they had seen their sister, both as Hera and Juno, arrive in very important Council sessions with clothes that had been exactly modelled like that.
The message was delivered, and it was not subtle.
Victoria was here, and she was here to stay.
If Juno or any other Goddess wanted to take the Throne, they were going to have to defeat her first, and as one could imagine, it was not exactly something trivial.
The Queen of Victory placed her right hand in those of Jupiter.
With her long black braid and her implacable eyes, Neptune could vouch that she had something of a young Juno.
"I wonder how long it will take her to go after Zeus' bastards." Pluto had cast a shadow enchantment to ensure only his ears heard the words.
"She can't touch the Grace children."
"She can't. But they aren't the only children he sired."
Neptune wished he was surprised, but alas, he wasn't.
"And to say he made some accusations when the existence of my son was revealed." The King of Atlantis breathed out. "One can only hope that removing Ares-Mars from the Council will bring some stability."
"There would be a chance of stability if left to our own devices." Pluto said darkly. "But since we have so many enemies preparing their own offensives, I can tell you, Neptune, that I have no confidence the new Council will resist the equivalent of a long and prolonged assault with siege engines hammering Olympus' gates."
His brother had not mentioned the Underworld's gates. And why would he? With three Queens instead of one, Pluto was far more secure in his Domain than any other Olympian.
Neptune grimaced again deep inside.
Yes, it wasn't going to end well.
And when it exploded again out of control, his Demigod son would be summoned.
Then events would be truly shattered beyond repair.
28 February 2007, New Byzantium, United States of America (de jure)
For the last step of their Great Quest, the Gods had made sure it happened under a perfect weather.
Okay, perfect for a month of February.
The air was cold, but there was little wind, and the sun could shine over a blue sky once the morning mists had disappeared.
"Well, it seems at least two-thirds of the city and its neighbourhood has come to greet us." Dakota blinked and then emptied one of his jugs in one gulp. "Is it my imagination, or-"
"It's not your imagination." Perseus shook his head. "The city is bigger than it once was. I can count at least two new blocks on the Roman side just by standing here, along with new public baths, something that looks like a menagerie to help Legionnaires identify monsters...and further away, I think there's a giant warehouse in construction. In all likelihood, it's the new headquarters of the Amazons."
Yes, this was a lot of changes, and the former Tyrant knew there were likely more he couldn't see from where he stood.
"A lot of disappointed faces in the crowd," Jade pointed out, her fingers nearly transformed into ice-shrouded claws.
"Think about their pain, oh Champion of Snow."
"Their pain?" the blue-haired ex-Huntress repeated in incomprehension.
"You didn't pay attention when we left?" Drew drawled sarcastically. "Many of our not-so-adoring public were betting against our survival. And I suppose the failure of the Great Quest too."
"Yet here we are."
"Here we are, yes," Perseus grinned. "We even managed to get back some long-lost Romans with us!"
"Jackson, the Expeditionary Force left mere months before us." Luke intervened with a tone of long-suffering. "It's not 'long-lost'."
"Details," the descendant of the Earthshaker dismissed the argument with the arrogance it deserved, all the while searching for his spyglass.
"You are going to extort them a lot of Sesterces and Drachmas, don't you?"
"Part of me is tempted," the former Tyrant admitted. "But honestly? No. Well, no, unless for those who engaged in bets that were backed on Oaths that involved Gods and Goddesses. For those, I am not going to risk a breach of the terms."
"Yes. And the others?"
"My generosity is truly boundless these days!" Perseus exclaimed. "It is possible I can be convinced to ignore the entire issue. Truly my mercy is beyond divine!"
"Annabeth."
SLAP!
"Ouch." Yes, his cheek was burning...again.
That was the problem with girlfriends; other heroic figures understood quickly that you were never going to slap them back.
"And here I was thinking about sparing you a monologue." The leader of the Suicide Squad said as the Inevitable Doom approached the quays of the New Golden Horn.
"Were you?"
"No." Perseus recognised, and suddenly wincing before lowering his spyglass to check if his eyes were not hallucinating. They weren't. "Damn."
"Problems?"
"Unless my eyes are tricking me, one nasty little backstabber named Octavian McArthur escaped his prison."
"Please tell me you're joking," Elvis Knight cursed some quite foul words after that.
"Language," Perseus said off-handily. "And no, I'm not joking. He's here, with...at least one of his accomplices."
Someone else cursed.
"I thought Midas' Curse was unbreakable."
"Don't be ridiculous, Reyna. No curse that is cast by mortal hands and voice is unbreakable. But I thought that the way to remove the curse was sufficiently original to ensure it wouldn't be discovered until the gold they were transformed into had the time to finish its work."
"There's good news at least," Hylla pointed out. "While a lot of our Roman peers are in Legionnaires' armours, Octavian isn't. I think he's been thrown out of the Legions."
"That's good news, yes." Dakota agreed, nodding all he could.
"No, it's not." Richard didn't let the moment of satisfaction last. "Did you forget where 'failures' go when they have debts to settle and-or some military service they owe to the Gods?"
They were sent to the Questers, yes.
"Anyway!" Perseus dismissed the problem for the moment. "For now, what is important is the security of the Inevitable Doom. We have many, many precious goods left aboard. As a result, we can't leave our beloved Super-Mega-Yacht without defenders. Asterius, you're in charge while we debark. Kimiko and Jade you stay here...and so do the penguins."
"Yes, short one!"
"By your will."
"No, Kaboom?"
He had unleashed something terrible upon this world, didn't he?
Bah, the world and the Gods really deserved everything.
"No, no Kaboom, Rico. I really don't want to test our diplomatic immunity the very day we're back."
"No doubt plenty of people are already surprised you obeyed the Council's commands in the spirit they were given."
"If the year two thousand and seven was bissextile, I would have tried to make sure we arrived on the twenty-ninth of February. You know, to see if it was possible to extend the immunity and the amnesties until the next twenty-ninth."
"The Gods would never have accepted that!"
"Oh, I know, but it would have been funny as hell to spy them trying to find a solution that would go against their rulings!"
And on this, his lone red eye wide open, Perseus went ashore. Immediately, he felt the divine magic swirling around him.
The Olympians weren't taking any risk this time around, did they?
"REJOICE, PEOPLE OF NEW BYZANTIUM!" The former Tyrant shouted. "FOR I HAVE DECIDED THAT DEBTS ARE A TOOL OF FOREIGN OLIGARCHS! I DECLARE ALL BETS NOT MADE UNDER STRINGENT OATHS A CRIME AGAINST THE WILL OF THE PEOPLE! LONG LIVE NEW BYZANTIUM AND NEW CONSTANTINOPLE, PEERLESS JEWELS OF FREEDOM!"
In mere seconds, all the constipated faces became expressions of joy and relief.
Legionnaire discipline was famous. It rapidly crashed as thousands of people began to party, and it didn't help at all that a certain God chose this moment to spread around barrels and bottles. All the while, fireworks began to explode above their heads.
"GLORY TO THE SUICIDE SQUAD!" Perseus shouted again. "USING ILLEGAL AUTHORITY GRANTED TO ME BY FOREIGN DESPOTS, I DECLARE A MORAL OBLIGATION TO PARTY!"
Once again, the morale of giving an order that you were sure was going to be obeyed in record time was verified in all its splendour.
The majority of the Legionnaires saluted and did form an honour guard around him as he advanced, Annabeth on her heels.
Thousands were there, cheering and applauding.
"Stop at once! He is a traitor!"
"But if it isn't the most treacherous lieutenant of all! How have you fared since your shameful desertion and latest backstabbing act, Octavian?"
The answer, for all those who cared, was clearly 'badly'.
Someone had indeed poured mule's milk on the Legacy of Apollo, breaking the curse, but either it had been too late, or they had not been enough of it.
As a result, Octavian's face and skin looked like they had been on the receiving end of scabies. With the splendid distinction that no one had probably been able to claim to have contracted gold-coloured scabies.
"You tried to kill me, Jackson!"
"Err...yes? You betrayed me, Octavian. Worse for you, you tried to attack Lou Ellen. Did you really think I was going to let you get away with it?"
Octavian made an ugly grimace as many Legionnaires laughed.
Apparently, yes, the blonde-haired Legacy had been so spoiled and used to getting his way that he had thought this would be free of consequences.
"The Golden Fleece, Jackson! Give it to me!"
"Out of the question!"
"I am not joking!" The backstabber's hand went to his gladius.
"Neither do I." A small manipulation of Hydrokinesis, and Octavian was thrown in the bay of the New Golden Horn, where he made a very loud and satisfying sound.
SPLASH!
The higher-ranked Roman soldiers didn't comment save with large smiles.
"Now the matter of betrayal is settled temporarily," the subordinates of Octavian had decided to disappear out in the crowd, thinking discretion was the better part of valour. "I believe we have somewhere we need to go."
They took chariots and paraded in front of the entire city, which was celebrating.
Months ago, Perseus would likely have walked, but the expansion made it impractical at best.
And yes, the expansion was not just cosmetic. There were more Demigods, some which clearly came out from other continents, in addition to plenty of Legacies. And then there were hundreds of men, women, and children who were not one or the other. They were the worshippers of the Greek-Roman Pantheon his sisters had hinted at, the communities which had spread since the Treaty of Jerusalem, and now some had been rewarded for their loyalty by being invited to settle in New Byzantium.
"Do you really think it is going to work?" Annabeth asked, hands holding the Golden Fleece, as their personal chariot at last left the last houses behind them to follow the perfect paved road that lead westwards, bordered by different greenhouses and fields being prepared for the next harvest.
"I, for one, don't doubt the power of the Golden Fleece."
Perseus chuckled, and the daughter of Athena blushed.
"I know, it's just...I saw her fall, you know."
"This just means one can rise again, with a little help."
"A little help?" Annabeth raised both eyebrows.
"A lot of help," the former Tyrant chuckled while correcting himself. "But honestly, there's another reason of hope: the Rule of Three."
"I thought it only applied to your plans and penguin's interventions."
"One might think it might," Perseus grinned before returning to a serious expression. "And if Bianca had not happened to be like me, a soul reborn from the same world, I would have treated the matter as a random curiosity. But Bianca once ruled as Empress, and I am what I am."
"You think Thalia could be like you? But she never told us anything about something like that!"
"Because in all likelihood, she didn't remember at the time." The former Tyrant explained patiently. "I certainly didn't recover all my memories before my mother was murdered. The world broke before my eyes, and my old life surged back in my head. And while Bianca was rather evasive about the experience she suffered from..."
Behind them, the chariot of she-who-was-Triumphant looked like it was made of living shadows, from the horses to the metal.
"She confirmed to me, that yes, she experienced something incredibly bad when trapped inside the Lotus Casino."
"The Lotus-Eaters promised the Rich One-"
"The Lotus Casino is not a place for children, Annabeth."
They passed through the Western Gate, and in the shadow of the heavily-enchanted walls that protected New Byzantium, they saw at last the magical Pine Tree Zeus had created years ago.
Perseus made the chariot stop.
Examining the procession behind them, the son of Poseidon was amused to note that curiosity was as much a potent motivation as it had ever been: an impressive crowd was following on their footsteps.
Interestingly, there also were several children of Hecate.
Many flinched as he gave them ironic expressions. Ah, their mother had visited them recently. Good, very good.
Annabeth presented him the Golden Fleece, but Perseus quickly shook his head.
"No. She was your friend. It's your privilege today."
The expression of his girlfriend was something between pride and extreme blushing, but she didn't hesitate.
The blonde Demigoddess stepped forwards and marched at a forced pace to the Pine Tree.
Despite the roots, despite the age and the large grace, a limb and many human parts had not been hidden inside the wooden trunk.
The Golden Fleece was gently placed on these symbols of fallen humanity, and immediately, the legendary artefact began its healing work.
"Does it-"
"Yes, it works. I can feel it. Don't you?"
Annabeth shook her head.
"We will have to work on your magical sensing abilities."
"I am not a witch."
"No, you're not, and you won't be one. But honestly, we need to train you. And yes, by 'we', I mean the Suicide Squad as a whole. As it is, you're dead meat against an Immortal Sorceress."
Ethan coughed.
"Yes, my treacherous lieutenant?"
"We were just wondering..."
"The Golden Fleece can't bring back someone from death in mere seconds, Ethan."
In fact, it was going to need an awful lot of time, and well, Perseus was impatient by nature.
No Wish though, he had taken enough damage from it during this Great Quest.
Instead, slowly, he passively used his Rule to channel magic towards the Pine Tree, providing more power to the already formidable abilities of healing the Golden Fleece was imbued with.
It worked.
The Pine Tree began to separate itself from the human body; in what was an amusing anecdote, the tree was going to be healthier and larger when the whole process was over.
More magic poured all around them, reinforcing the defences of the colony as a whole.
It still took over one hour.
Perseus waited in deep silence, uncaring that some people in the crowd left returned to the city. It was their loss.
Slowly, the divine transformation was altered, with wood reverting to human flesh, and the same happened to man-made clothes.
Annabeth's friend had had an interesting style, to be sure.
"It was her 'Goth-phase'." The daughter of Annabeth said defensively.
"Everyone has his or her favourite style," the son of Poseidon replied magnanimously. "Personally-"
"Yes, yes we all know of your horrible fondness for everything orange and other outrageous and eye-clashing clothes."
"How is it horrible?"
Still, behind the joke, Perseus noted that it was a clearly big hint. Black clothes, and as the tree freed the reason for its existence, he noted that the hair had no doubt been dyed black as well.
Coincidence? Maybe. Or maybe not.
Black hair. Black T-shirt. Black jeans. Black leather jacket. It wouldn't even have surprised Perseus if in the next seconds the tree had spat out a large black motorbike.
"She is going to need Nectar and Ambrosia."
"The Golden Fleece-"
"It is doing its job, but there is such a thing as compensating for years in a near-dead state."
He felt it when the process was complete.
It was like a sensation of cold flames surging out of the valley where they were all assembled.
Her eyes opened.
For all that he had seen them before on the son of Jupiter, the leader of the Suicide Squad was still half-surprised by the intensity of these blue, electric gaze.
A breath later, and there was a powerful scream.
It didn't last long, but there was raw power behind it.
Many Legacies and other spectators were forced to their knees by the light shockwave.
Well, that answered a few questions about 'coincidences', all right.
"Thalia! Thalia, it's me, Annabeth! You're fine! You're safe!"
Nectar was poured in her throat.
"Annabeth? What? I remember...dying..."
Perseus could see it. The confusion. The fumbled memories. The same realisation he'd arrived to years ago on a very dark day.
He waited silently, his red and his green eye watching the dangerous daughter of the Master of Olympus.
Inevitably as Annabeth helped her female friend stand on her legs, with Reyna helping her, the blue electric eyes fell upon him.
"I know you."
"We are all of us free, or we are none of us free. Glory to Bellerophon, Holiest of the Free Cities, Peerless Jewel of Freedom!"
For many Demigods, this would just be another of his crazy proclamations.
It would just be the divagations he had made popular thorough New Byzantium.
But he could see instantly for the girl who had been given the first name of Thalia, it was more than that.
"Bellerophon? Hierarch? No, you are not...I remember that grin. I know that grin!"
The former Tyrant of Helike cackled.
"Are you the one who offered me a pure-bred Liessan charger?"
There was a loud groan.
"I offered you a goat, Tyrant!"
Yes, it was her.
"Is this Hell?" the black-haired Demigoddess looked around, clearly being overwhelmed by two lives assaulting her at the very same time.
"Debatable, I think, for Triumphant is here."
Perseus bent the knee theatrically. Amusingly, many people followed suit.
"All Hail Thalia Grace, daughter of Zeus...she who was once known as Catherine Foundling. Welcome back, Countess of Marchford, Sovereign of Moonless Nights, Queen of the Hunt, First under the Night, Arch-Heretic of the East!"
"You are enjoying reciting a few of my old titles, don't you?"
The blue eyes glared at him.
"I don't know what you mean, my secret ally."
There was a groan of frustration. It was a very significant and sincere groan, to be honest.
"Yes, this is Hell. Next time, you're sure, you're going to tell me everything is proceeding as part of your plan?"
The Demigod who had once been named Kairos Theodosian laughed until his lungs couldn't handle it anymore.
"Welcome back, Black Queen. I missed you."
Author's note:
Return of the Queen: accomplished.
This is where the Second Great Quest and Arc 2 of this story end.
Perseus Jackson and the Sea of Monsters is officially over.
If you think, things are going to get calmer and the craziness levels will abate, however...you are completely wrong.
You know all the jokes of a Dread Empress, a Tyrant, and a Queen entering the same Temple? Well, they might not be that exaggerated...or jokes at all.
The other links were the story is available:
ww w .alternate history forum/ threads/ an-impractical-guide-to-godhood-a-percy-jackson-x-a-practical-guide-to-godhood-crossover .513032/
archive ofourown works /32339365 /chapters /80167612
ww w .pa treon Antony444