A/N: This is not my first fanfic, but it is one of the first I'm posting to this site. Commentary is always welcome, so I'd very much like to hear from you in the reviews to see if I should continue this or not, and to see what I can improve... Hope you guys enjoy it!

This prologue is not extremely relevant to the story, but it does build a small connection later. Plus, it was kinda cool to write.

Now, this disclaimer goes for the entire story, so don't expect to see any more in later chapters – I do not own the Percy Jackson series or any of its characters. This is a fanfiction solely for entertainment. I don't claim any of the rights.

Prologue

Allison had never been much of an athlete.

She sucked at anything that required attention for an extended period of time. Cheerleading was not only tiring, but the uniforms were plain humiliating. She couldn't handle a ball for her life and hated swimming with a burning passion.

Now, as she ran from the grips of a giant monster, all she could think was 'maybe I should've joined the track team.'

The things that cross your mind when you're about to die.

Now, considering the amount of weird situations Allison had found herself in (and gotten herself out of) over the past few months, she probably should have been a little more optimistic. But then...

Dead end.

Of course.

Turning around, Allison found the thing looming over her, snapping its pincers furiously. The sound made her want to puke. For all the luck she'd had, it was all over. She was going to die right then and there.

Allison heard something behind the monstrous creature, something she had never heard before. It was metallic, but soft. She tried to look past the scorpion's giant stinger, but couldn't see a thing. The monster, too, seemed to turn its head sideways as if knowing something was wrong.

Allison didn't see the arrow coming.

There was barely a sound, barely any warning, but suddenly the arrow was just there, settled firmly into one of the monster's joints.

An earthshaking roar sliced through the night as the scorpion clattered backwards, looking for the attacker. Allison was thinking that she should really get out of there, but her body stayed glued to the wall, paralyzed in fear.

And then, she saw it – two people coming out of the darkness, as if their bodies had just materialized from thin air. Allison couldn't see their faces, but could tell that it was a woman and a man. One had a bow in hand and an elegant shape, soft curves that showed in a perfect shooting stance; the other, broad shoulders and large arms, gripping something that looked like a sword.

The woman walked in the direction of the monster, slipping arrows with every step she took. None of them missed the target, and the beast snarled in pain, still clicking its pincers. But didn't back down. In fact, it only looked angrier, wagging its tail violently. With a hiss, the scorpion lunged forward.

The man met him halfway.

Allison didn't even see him move, but he was standing right in front of the animal, and with one precise movement of his arm, one pincer came rolling to the ground, slowly dissolving into yellow dust.

Allison's panicked yelp was drowned out by another snarl coming from the scorpion.

The woman lifted one hand in the air and suddenly a spear appeared in her grasp, unraveling from the shadows. She proceeded to stab the monster with it, joined by the man, and Allison was in awe.

Watching them fight was like watching partners dance. They made it look so easy; graceful, dangerous and so, so very fast. Allison had never seen anyone move that fast before, like they weren't bound by the same physical forces that regular people were. Within a mere minute, what had once been a giant armored scorpion was reduced to a pile of dust, already fading in the wind.

They turned to her.

Shit.

Allison turned and clawed at the wall she had been leaning on, as if a secret passage could burst open at her touch. Her heart was hammering inside her chest and her palms were sweating and what fucking good is it to get rid of one killer just so you get another?

''No,'' she whispered, closing her eyes. ''God, please no.''

She looked back at them. The woman's spear had disappeared already, and the man made a gesture with his sword that turned it into a small object – Allison couldn't make out its shape.

Great. They were going to kill her bare-handed.

''Please, don't do this.''

They looked at each other (Allison noted she still couldn't see their faces) and the woman took a step forward, saying the last thing Allison expected to hear.

''We're not here to hurt you.''

Allison blinked.

''What?''

''We want to help you,'' she continued. Despite being nearly ten feet away, the woman didn't yell, but her voice was projected easily in the alley. The words were spoken in a silky, soothing tone that instantly made Allison suspicious.

''Why should I trust you?'' She demanded, voice – and hands, and lips and heart – trembling.

''Because we're like you,'' the man offered. His voice was the opposite of hers; deep and slightly raspy, but still velvet-like, pleasant to hear. ''And we just saved your life.''

Allison felt dizzy all of a sudden, and she was still so scared that she could barely concentrate. She tried to find something consistent to say.

''What do you mean you're like me?'' she decided.

They didn't answer right away, instead sharing another look before the woman shrugged slightly.

''We're demigods,'' the man replied in a clipping tone. ''Children of an ancient Greek god and a mortal.''

''I— What?''

''Everything you've heard about Greek Mythology is true,'' the woman said. ''Monsters, Olympus, the Underworld. Everything exists, even the gods themselves. And you're the daughter of one.''

''Who?'' Allison blurted out before she could truly process the information.

''We don't know. But if you come with us you can find out.''

They stared intently at her, and Allison fought to regain control of her thoughts. These people knew exactly what buttons to push, but she couldn't give in every time someone claimed to know her father. He was gone. She needed to accept that.

''My father is dead,'' she spat. ''You're both crazy.''

''Are we? We just saved you from being eaten by a giant scorpion. What's your explanation for that?'' The man asked.

''I can't even see your faces!'' Allison shrieked, starting to panic. ''How can I trust you?''

Of all the things she could be afraid of.

Again, they shared a glance, as if saying 'can you believe this girl?' But then, the woman lifted her head slightly towards the broken streetlamp in the corner, where a light started flickering before nestling comfortably, illuminating the entire alley and revealing the faces of her two saviors.

Allison couldn't breathe.

She didn't think she had ever seen anyone more beautiful in her entire life.

The woman towered over Allison, easily four or five inches taller. She had ivory skin and raven-black hair styled in a pixie undercut with razor-cut locks that almost covered her light blue eyes. Allison didn't know if the messy look was purposeful or not, but it gave her a wild quality, like she had just landed from a skydiving session. She wore black from head to toe – black boots, black ripped jeans and a black V-neck that allowed Allison to see the rise and fall of her collarbones as she breathed.

Allison forced herself to pry her eyes away, settling her gaze on the man. He was even taller than the woman, and like her, he wore all black. But his skin was darker, golden with the hint of a tan. He had eyes that were the oddest color of green, a light shade that she couldn't quite recognize, and his jet-black hair was swept sideways, as if he'd stood too long in the blowing wind and didn't care enough to fix it.

Both of them were so similar, with the dark clothing and the dangerous feeling floating around their bodies (the air almost seemed to crackle with the power emanating from them) but they were still so opposite. He was all muscle, hard edges and strong features, like the ones you saw in ancient sculptures – defined jawline, straight nose, tense shoulders. His companion seemed much... Softer. Leaner, elegant, even with sharp traces in beautiful features. Allison would have dared call her delicate, but she didn't doubt that beneath her pale skin, she held lithe muscles and a strength to rival her partner's.

You're staring.

Allison blinked twice and swallowed. Hard. The woman lifted an eyebrow bemusedly.

''My name is Thalia. And this is Perseus,'' she said, the echo of laughter in her voice.

''We have something for you,'' Perseus offered.

He stuffed his hand into his pocket, grabbing something and tossing it to Allison. It hit her on the chest, but she managed to catch it before it fell to the ground.

Allison unraveled her fingers to find a necklace sitting on the palm of her hand. A thin, long silver chain, with a small pendant – one of those weapons that people always associated with death and the Grim Reaper, a long shaft with a curved blade mounted on one end.

''I don't understand... What do you want me to do with this?''

She lifted her gaze to look between them, and was surprised to find that Perseus was grinning. Thalia had a smirk playing in the corner of her lips.

''There's a war brewing,'' Perseus replied, looking up at the sky. ''And you've just been offered a place in the winning team.''