Chapter 28: Chaos and Order

"Brutus," he said.

"Caesar, thou canst not die by traitors' hands, unless thou bring'st them with thee."

"What?" Sea-green eyes gleamed in the moonlight with fear and confusion.

"Et tu, Brute?"

"Just this once," was declared. He understood.

"Not that I loved Caesar less, but that I loved Rome more."

With that, Arc lifted his crossbow and looked at the god stoically. "Call me Brutus."

Percy closed his eyes as his son fired a bolt, and then another.

Pain shot through his side, as well emotionally through his heart. Arc..., he thought. Artemis, I love you both.

But then the second bolt didn't hit him. He didn't feel it.

Suddenly he was able to breathe. His feet touched the ground. His throat no longer felt constricted. He was free.

Percy turned around just in time to see a flaming hammer bash itself into a white skull—or a white head. It was Order.

Order was down.

Percy stood there, stunned and dumbfounded as Order fell to the ground, bleeding golden ichor out of his chest wound and his scorched head. Percy, however, bled only lightly at his side where the crossbow bolt grazed him on the way home.

Percy's body controlled him, and he fell to his knees beside the god. Arc followed suit.

Order's faceless features faded into something else—two narrow eyes, shapely eyebrows, an aquiline nose, a thin mouth, elfish ears. His bloodstained blonde hair grew strands of grey, the closest it came to a darker shade.

Order was a person. And he was beautiful.

The god blinked up at them with eyes that seemed so familiar—eyes that Percy saw in the mirror: black as the void, starry, and so much like Chaos', so much like his.

"I never would have thought you'd gain sympathy," Order said, almost absently. "Such heroes."

"I never did, too," Percy acquiesced. His hands closed in on themselves when the god's form started to fade.

Order looked at his killer. "I knew I'd chosen well... for a grandson. Your father taught you well about Marcus Brutus."

Arc didn't answer, and looked down at his lap.

"Tell me," Percy started. "When did you... adopt me? Was yours that destructive power Chaos was talking about?"

Order's pale lips stretched upward. "The day you made your constellation," he said, faint. "I.. My subconscious wanted you... to leave a mark in the world... however this war will end up for each of us."

"Was that you?" Arc blurted out. "When you let me shoot you? Was it?"

Order swallowed, struggling to keep his throat hydrated. "No. I truly thought you would shoot your own father, my own son," he admitted, letting out a hoarse laugh. "Even then, I was dunce."

"Why?" Percy was trembling all over, even in his voice. "Why'd you adopt me? So you would have a successor to continue your work for you? You know I'd never do that."

Order's eyelids were fluttering blearily. "I believe... it was to give me a challenge.. Old people don't get much of it just because of their age, no?" His muscles relaxed. "I don't think you would not like recreating the universe... in your own way.."

And then he was gone. His sword lay beside him.

Arc picked it up, disposing his hammer. He looked at his father. "Should I use it, or keep it safe?"

"I don't know." Percy stood and looked up at the sky. The moon was high, bright, unwavering. "Where are the gods?"

"Their palaces," Arc replied. "Where are you going, Father?"

"I doubt everyone is alright," Percy said, troubled. "Make sure nothing else gets destroyed. Stand by the railing, the elevator—anywhere any Ordians can get through."

Arc straightened. "You can count on me."

Percy gave him a grateful smile, then a hug. "Stay safe," he whispered, then gingerly made a portal, and then sighed in relief as one opened. His powers were back. He stepped through to Camp Half-Blood.

Arc was left in the arena, clutching Order's sword in his hand.

…

Percy stepped out at the foot of the hill. Something feels wrong, he mused.

He ran to the camp. The smaller buildings, like the cabins, the stables, and the armory, were almost reduced to shambles. The Big House, once again, needed repairs, the climbing wall eroded, and the forest half-burned, but the amphitheater still stood tall, and campfire light emanated from within.

They're alright, he thought with glee, and dashed inside.

The campers didn't see him come in, for they were all celebrating their victory by singing along loudly and eating s'mores. Even Chiron didn't see him. He was fine with that, but there was something out of place..

And then he saw her. She wasn't looking at him—she wasn't looking at anybody; she was looking up at the sky, worried, judging just by the frantic turns of her head. But she also wasn't telling anyone.

Percy knew then that he had to get to her, but he couldn't just push through the crowd without them noticing. Still not everything was alright yet, and he didn't want to show his face then, at least not yet. Besides, it would look weird that he would go to the former (though they didn't know that) moon goddess, given her reputation. So he had to make her come out somehow.

With a sudden sprinkle of luck, Enkeli turned to look at the entrance. She was grinning even before she turned away—and backtracked.

Percaaaay? she mouthed.

The son of Chaos pointed behind her.

Enkeli poked Artemis in the side, receiving a glare in return. She paid no heed to it and pointed to where he was.

And in a flash, Artemis had gotten up and sprinted to him. She tackled him in a hug, burying her face in his chest.

He couldn't stop himself from firing. "Are you okay? Is everyone alright? Did the transfer work? What were you looking at?" Then finally, with a worried frown, he asked, "Is something wrong?"

Artemis tugged at his shirt. "There's something happening at Khaos. I can feel it."

Percy tried to fix her a reassuring smile. "It's okay; nothing can get them there. Besides, Order's—" He faltered unexpectedly. "He's gone."

"But Zoë—" her voice caught. "Zoë."

"No," he whispered in dreadful realization, and looked up at the night sky. He tried to locate The Huntress, but there wasn't anything next to his constellation. Its stars had disappeared.

Then he squinted. There they were, dim and almost unnoticeable. He sighed in relief, but was alarmed. Zoë's stars weren't like that ever before. Even if she wasn't standing on it, those stars were brighter than these.

"It's still there," Percy informed her. "But I'll go take a look."

He released her and prepared to make a portal, just as he heard someone yell, "It's Percy Jackson!"

The atmosphere suddenly became louder and happier. Percy quickly entered into his portal before they could reach him.

…

The portal opened at the observatory. There was no one there. Even the other constellations, like Orion and Hercules, who check on the world from time to time, were nowhere to be seen.

He approached the fence and looked down at the stars. Everything, it turned out, was dim, not only Zoë's. The stars have lost the warmth, the power it needed to shine.

Ouranos, he thought, panicked. What had happened?

He made to portal to the god's courtyard, but he couldn't. His powers were not working again. Something was definitely wrong.

Resigned, he ran out of the palace, through the empty, winding corridors, twisting and turning. As he picked up his pace, the place seemed to swirl, dizzying him even more, therefore increasing the time he wandered around. He ran like he was drunk. It was as if the palace didn't want him out.

After what seemed like an Earth day, he found the natural silver light from the all-time starry sky shining out from the small window over the door, the only such thing in the entire place. Mostly because the other windows were the size of walls.

Finally, he thought as he ran out, spinning to take a look at the courtyard. Not a living thing was there. He sprinted on straight towards the Khaos Palace. Maybe he'd be there early enough to know what's going on.

Well, too bad, the Fates seemed to tell him.

He arrived in one piece, worried out of his mind. The citizens were pulling toward him, anxious to see him. They usually weren't like that. Usually they would grovel, and despite his worries, he was a bit thankful for it.

"Zoë!" he shouted in relief as he burst through the throne room doors, seeing his best friend there, along with everyone else. To his surprise, Nyx shushed him. He hurried to her side.

Zoë was glaring at the floor. "Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why did it have to be..?"

Percy caught her shoulder, causing her glare to turn towards him. "Hey. What's wrong?"

She glared at him some more, before looking back at the ground. He followed her gaze, and instantly, he felt his heart break. He dropped to the floor.

There was a small black box, and a glass cylinder beside it. Inside the glass cylinder was a sliver of black essence, curled into a sphere and rotating. It hummed with power.

He took the box and opened it. Sitting there was a silver ring.

"Percy." He looked up, but his vision was blurry. He had been crying. Something was being given to him. "It's a letter from our mother. It's for you."

Nyx. He turned away for a moment to wipe his face, before taking the folded piece of paper. He opened it and tried his best not to sniffle.

To Perseus:

My son. You have made the last years of my life the happiest of it. For simply having you, I am grateful.

I have not much to say, although I could admit to you that it was really not me who did all the work on the universe. My brother did. He guided me, and with his help, I built this whole place you are in right now. And... despite the fact that he's left me long enough for me to do things on my own, I still find it hard to write this letter to you, though maybe it's not because my brother is not here with me.

You have made me proud beyond all measure. You learn well on your own, and by other people. You are wiser beyond your years. You will be a good leader, not only in your little world in Modern Greece and Rome but also of other worlds much bigger and even in some yet to be discovered by your naïve eyes. But I will be honest with you, son: there will come a time you will have leave just as I will, and you will know when.

With this is a ring. Give it to your treasured; love her, respect her, make her time with you the happiest in her life. And your son also—my beloved grandson, he deserves peace in his young age. Give him that, for he will need it in his years to come. Teach him just as your mother taught you.

From Chaos.

Percy's hands trembled as he stared at the piece of paper, glancing at the glass cylinder, upset. His shoulders dropped, and he ducked his head. "She... she didn't say anything about that."

He felt a masculine hand on his shoulder. "That's all right.." It was Pontus. "She must've let you do what you want with it."

"I can't just do that!" Percy exclaimed, dismal. "It's my mother. It's all of her. I can't do anything with it without her permission. I didn't even get to say goodbye."

"Then what are you going to do?" Gaea asked him pointedly, crossing her arms. "Leave it there? I'm pretty sure she'd like that."

Percy took the sarcasm seriously. "She wouldn't, okay?!" he shouted at her, then promptly buried his face in his hands.

There was a collective sigh behind him. "Look, why don't you keep it?" he heard Ouranos suggest to him. "We'll put it in your room while you go back down to Earth. You'll have thought things through when you return."

Percy breathed out slowly to calm himself, then nodded. He ran a hand over his face and stood up. He looked over to his best friend, who hadn't spoken a word after he got there. She looked into his eyes, then stormed out of the throne room without a word.

Percy sighed, and then used the portal behind the throne to go to Olympus.

The other primordial gods looked down at the box, the cylinder, and the letter.

"I wonder what's up with Zoë," Pontus thought aloud.

Nyx nudged him. "Obviously it has something to do with Percy."

She picked up the cylinder. Aether looked at her, horrified. "Why'd you take it?!"

The goddess raised an eyebrow. "What? This thing isn't going to lift itself."

As Ouranos picked up the remaining two objects on the ground, he and the rest of Percy's mentors watched as the two gods jostled each other to get their hands on the cylinder.

Tartarus crossed his arms and sniffed distastefully. "A mother and son, fighting over the essence of their matriarch like it's a child's toy."

"I have a feeling this is going to end badly," Gaea shared. Her eyes widened as the cylinder fell to the marble floor, and since the glass was quite stronger material, but glass nonetheless, it cracked like a mirror. Even through the small gap, the black essence slipped through and disappeared into the air.

Pontus slapped his forehead.

Aether gasped. "Now look at what you've done!"

Good news: Percy got there fast enough, not interrupting anything in progress, it seems.

Bad news: everyone was already there.

He stood at the center awkwardly, having a staring contest with the gods. He was conscious of the eyes of Enkeli and Artemis and everyone else behind him.

Then Zeus grunted. "Nice of you to drop by. Late, as always."

The god pointed to a space next to Poseidon's throne, where a smaller stone chair built itself. He raised an eyebrow when Percy didn't move. "Well? Go on."

As the son of Poseidon was about to take a step, the massive doors opened.

Zeus grunted again, looking annoyed. "Another one. Like father, like son."

It was Arc. How come he was late? Percy wondered as he walked towards his seat. He was just up here on Olympus.

"I'm sorry," Arc said sheepishly, and then made to move towards where his father was currently seated.

"Stay there," Zeus ordered loudly and firmly. "Don't forget, you killed two of my sons today, Jackson. You deserve a punishment greater than staying stood."

Arc stopped in his tracks, his face visible of guilt.

"Now, shall we continue?" Zeus asked, directing a pointed glare at the Jacksons.

The gods murmured assent.

"As I was saying, you demigods and legacies have done well in defending your home. For that, why don't you think of something beneficial that you would perhaps want for your respective camps?"

The assembled campers murmured excitedly.

The leaders of the Romans, Maren and Francis, stepped forward first. They always were the fastest to decide, since they were a group, a big family who knew every member's wants.

"Lord Jupiter," Maren began, "as Romans, we were taught to stand tall and be strong in any situation. But, uh, anyway, we wish for bigger quarters for our legionnaires."

"And the barracks, too, please," Francis added, and Maren elbowed him in the ribs.

The Romans cheered, but Maren silenced them with a glare and said, "I said bigger, not cozier. You would still sleep on straw cots."

No one complained in fear of being thrown into a sack full of weasels.

Zeus raised an eyebrow and flickered to his Roman form. "That is your wish?"

"Yes, Lord," Maren said, inclining her head.

"Very well." Jupiter nodded. "We will have it reconstructed as soon as possible." The other gods murmured their approval.

The Roman campers in Camp Jupiter bowed as one.

Jupiter morphed back to Zeus. The Greeks were next. A girl in her teens, with curly black hair and stormy grey eyes, stepped forward to represent the camp. Athena smiled with pride.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Artemis nod at the girl favorably. He caught her eye and smiled one that he hoped conveyed, I'm okay because you are.

She smiled back, though it was forced.

The Athena girl began talking.

Meanwhile, Zeus glanced at Percy, followed his gaze, and scowled. Only then did he go listen to the daughter of Athena.

"...because of the war, sir."

Percy blinked, as did Zeus. "Pardon?" the king asked.

Some of the gods rolled their eyes.

"The boundary was destroyed, Lord Zeus," the girl repeated patiently, "because of the monsters attacking its source. Can't it be placed from inside?"

There was a low mumbling of agreement from the Greeks.

"Also, the boundaries are of no use if there're monsters in the woods." Perhaps the girl had wondered such things beforehand. "And sir, if you say that they're for training, we already have a number of dummies available for everyone, not to mention other campers who instill much more of a challenge than brainless monsters. Besides, we could summon, ones that we could handle."

Zeus' mouth pressed into a thin line as the murmurs became louder.

"Also, Lord Zeus." She asked too much more than Percy thought they would ever need. "May we ask for a larger shower building? And something much better maintained? The current one is kind of small, and well, a bit stinky."

The Romans have long begun started to laugh quietly amongst themselves. A few of the Greeks could only palm their faces.

"Amanda, you ask much," Athena warned.

Amanda blushed and ducked her head.

"You should give them," Percy suddenly felt himself speak up. Heads spun to look at him. The Greeks from Camp Half-Blood were then in a state of dazed awe and excitement, as if he was a god pardoning for them. Which, in a way, he was. "I think they deserve it. Besides, it's not anything just for recreation. They're both for protection and security, yeah?" Percy tried a disarming smile.

With his Pontus-vision (a vision with Pontus' influence, which 'sees all and knows all'), he saw a few of the goddesses melt in their resolve. Out of the corner of his vision, Artemis rolled her eyes. Too bad it doesn't work on her now, Percy thought sadly.

"You've become wiser, Perseus," Athena noted, a tiny tinge of approval in her voice.

His smile wavered at the compliment; he hadn't expected that. "Uh, thanks."

Zeus grunted once again; Percy thought that he might have a scratchy throat. "Right then. All in favor?"

Hands went up.

Well, except for Aphrodite's. She was busy smiling sadly at her mirror.

"Aphrodite," Zeus called. The goddess looked up. "Do you have a reason for disagreeing?"

Percy raised an eyebrow. They didn't have that before. Must have been an improvement.

"Disagreeing?" Aphrodite asked, surprised. She looked around at the other gods, their votes clear and visible. "About what? Sorry, I was busy."

Zeus looked a little annoyed as he opened his mouth to speak, but Amanda beat him to it. "It was about my wish, Lady Aphrodite. I thought that—"

And then she went into a spiel of what her wish was about, which was a lot longer than what she'd actually said to the king of the gods. More than half of the people in the room zoned out.

"I—I am not in favor!" Aphrodite exclaimed while Amanda was halfway through her recital. She dropped her mirror. "It sounds awful, dear."

Percy (and almost everyone in the room) cracked a smile when they saw the Greeks frown. He couldn't blame the goddess, really.

Zeus nodded. "Anyone else?" No one spoke up. Arc's footfalls echoed in the room as he went to pick up Aphrodite's mirror for her. "Then it shall be done."

The Greeks bowed to him, and Amanda stepped back as a twelve-year old boy took her place. Why, thought Percy, would they appoint a preadolescent boy as their leader?

"I ain't 'er sup'rior, sir," the boy answered his question, although directing it to the king god. "They jist get me say it out to ye, 'cause they said I do explain it best."

Hera was practically radiating waves of motherly disapproval.

"Ah, um," an older boy was pushed to the front, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. "He had the best intentions out of all of us, and we even need to squeeze it out of him... uh, we thought it was better for him to uh... speak up for himself, yeah."

Hera continued staring at them sternly, and even Percy couldn't help but notice something off about his speech.

"We'll help him," another camper piped up. Hera calmed down.

"Um, Lord Zeus?" the boy called, suddenly uncomfortable. "This ain't part o' my wish, but I was a-wonderin' somethin'."

Zeus nodded. "Go on."

"From er's study at Camp, I learned a Hades, the god of the Underworld, an'nat he respected Mr. Percy."

Percy frowned in confusion, and without thinking, he said: "Really? And it's just Percy."

This aroused a few laughs.

The boy nodded vigorously. "Yes sir, Just Percy, sir!" Several laughs again. "An', I was relieved that not only me could see Hestia. I founded out ya did, too."

Hestia busied herself in poking the hearth, but Percy could see through the reflected flames that her face turned into a happy golden. The fire rose and turned yellow.

Meanwhile, Percy blinked. How did he know that? Surely no one could see in his eyes.

"And what," Zeus said slowly, "do you intend to ask, child?"

"I was wonderin' why Hades an' Hestia don't have thrones 'ere."

As quick as an avalanche, two large chairs rose up from the ground, one on either side of the room. One was wooden and the paint burned a bright copper; the other was made of dimly glowing obsidian (and a bit awkwardly, it was once Hades' stone throne, which means that he was still sitting on it as it evolved into obsidian.)

Zeus looked at the boy, a small triumphant smirk on his face. "You were saying, child?"

The boy inclined his head and mumbled a Nothing.

Hestia stood from in front of the hearth and bowed to Zeus, kissed the boy on the cheek, before striding over to her new throne, a skip in her steps. And Hades... well, Hades was a bit peeved. He sat there, glaring at his brother, and then relaxed, giving the boy a respectful nod.

"Aye then, boy," Zeus acknowledged. "I believe we have answered your question."

"Yessum."

"Then what is your wish?"

"For th' way o livin' ta be a-close ta modern as it must could," the boy replied, steadfast. "I am wonderin', sir, why we use knives an' not guns."

Athena's brow furrowed, as if it was not a worthy question. "It's too destructive, child, if it falls into a hero's hands, for the power—"

"If they's a hero, why could it be destructive?"

The room silenced. No one ever had a nerve to interrupt the goddess Athena while she was reasoning, not until now. Even Athena was too stunned to speak.

The boy, however, took this as a cue that everyone was now listening, and continued. His face though reddened gradually as he was speaking. "It ain't like... they're gonna drop the gun, right? You seen a bow dropped 'fore? Besides, bow's not gonna shoot unless you hit 'em. Gun's the same way."

It was still silent. Percy admired the boy's strong resolve to keep standing like a crime suspect in court.

Finally, Zeus came to his senses and looked around the room. The other gods were either staring unintelligibly at the Southern boy or giving him a long, impassive look. The king opened his mouth to speak, but the voice came out late. "All in favor?"

Before arms could even twitch upward, Percy banged his fist on his armrest like a judge's gavel. "I think we should save the voting for later and let him finish."

This brought Zeus back completely, for he raised an eyebrow at Percy in a calculating, demeaning way like he used to when they were younger. "'Let him finish'?"

"Yessum," the boy piped up, much more confident after receiving the somewhat approval of the legendary hero. "The camp's't gettin' along smooth, havin' many fight there, right is."

"What do you mean fights?" Jason demanded. "I don't see any fights."

"Guardians are the most misinformed of their children's fights," Hera said in a matter-of-factly tone. "Most often, it happens behind your back to keep you from interfering."

Jason frowned. "Is that true, Royce?" he gently asked the boy, who now had a name.

Royce nodded respectfully. "Ev'ry time ya'll out a sight, I get—" he stopped abruptly, making Percy raise an eyebrow, as did Hera. The boy recovered, "them other folks're fightin' with other folks. Greeks an' Romans fight, the olders kickin' arounde lil ones like me, but ain't me."

Zeus' eyes cleared, getting a light in the situation. "What do you wish we do?"

"Separate the—"

"Separate?" Zeus couldn't hold back from interrupting. Royce recoiled. There came a spark of chatter in the crowd. "Child, the base of Perseus' camp is the union of—"

"I know, but ain't that separatin'," Royce said, timid once again. "Separate lessans an' cabins. Greeks with Greeks. Same fer Romans. An' den they join up again in Capture games."

"Capture games?"

Poseidon patted his brother's hand with his trident. Percy felt weird to see a huge golden pillar leaving and then settling back down beside him. "Greek and Roman capture the flag."

"The king of the gods not knowing his main camp's games. Hmph," Demeter mumbled under her breath.

Several snickers from the crowd.

"Urgh," Zeus grumbled. "Right then, boy. Tell us how beneficial this is."

"Ain't nobody will go ta kill nobody in 'er sleep."

A sleeping son of Hypnos (who was still miraculously upright on his feet) sputtered awake with a cough.

"What?"

"True, sir," Royce said, "they do jokes, an' bad ones, too. Back that time I found myself a face full a bear stink."

A group of Romans—most probably the culprits—from the joint camp laughed loudly.

"And what of the lessons?" Zeus inquired. "How would they learn to work together if the lessons are separated?"

"Easy-peasy," Royce boasted confidently. "They don't need mixed style 'cause they have strategy. Romans do plannin', an' Greeks do doin'. But we can't follow plans anyway an' we jist wing em' 'cause the Fates don't give us time to plan. An' we still win."

The Greeks gave a small cheer.

"An unbiased—"

"And us folks will gonna learn ta work together, anyway. Jist wait when they're about to lose 'em Capture games. They's be forced to come with to win over the enemy."

The gods exchanged glances. "But Royce," Athena began, "it will deepen the rift between the two groups."

"It'll most likely lead to more curfew incidents," Apollo pointed out.

Dionysus palmed his face. "More paperwork. Ughhhhh."

"Do they care?"

The gods' murmurs quieted again as they stared at the boy, who looked up at them innocently.

"They don't care, right? But th' rift is good. It makes 'em reach out willin'ly if they need it, right? They gonna hav'ta cross a bridges or somethin' ta get help."

From the main camp crowd, a few of the Romans snorted. "As if." The Greeks laughed mockingly in response.

Zeus frowned. Percy could tell he was still reluctant about taking the wish of a twelve-year old boy. It was too big of a change. He addressed the crowd, "Does anyone have a say in the matter?"

There were murmurs of uncertainty. Then finally, a Greek from Camp Half-Blood raised his hand. From the looks of him, a child of Athena. "Why don't you just separate the cabins or barracks or whatever and nothing else?"

Zeus went with the idea. The other gods agreed.

Even though it was a partial victory, Royce's shoulders slumped, crestfallen. He walked back to the crowd and pushed to the back, where he watched from there, alone.

Something in Percy's mind clicked. He stood up; his father was the first to notice him.

"Percy," he whispered. "Where are you going?"

Percy shushed him and left. It was easy to sneak past the thrones unseen. He reached the back of the crowd without any hassle. He then pulled the Southerner aside.

Royce yelped as a hand clasped on his arm. Thinking that it was one of the campers again, he tried to yank his arm free, but the grip was strong. A finger went across his lips, signaling him to hush.

It was then that Royce looked to his assailant. To his relief, it was—

"Sir Percy?"

Percy nodded, shushed him once more, and started to talk.

Zeus looked around the throne room. "I believe some replacements are in order." When he caught sight of his daughter's throne, he said to her in a booming voice, "I'll talk to you later," then to the crowd, "any nominations? For uh, Hephaestus'—my son's throne?"

Names were thrown out, all of which Artemis didn't recognize. But then a name got above all the rest, and this name was the only one she recognized.

"Arc Jackson!"

The room silenced. Then after a few passing minutes, there were murmurs of both agreement and the opposite. Zeus assessed the boy with distaste. "You want this murderer as your new god of blacksmiths and fire?"

Artemis couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Arc is not a murderer."

Heads turned toward her. Zeus actually looked surprised when she defended him. "What?"

Arc leaped to the front, his hands out and frantic, wanting to avoid a clash. "Uh, it's no biggie. If they don't want me there, then I won't be."

"Oh no," Artemis disagreed, her voice firm but having a mocking sway to it. "You will inherit my brother's throne. You will."

Arc opened his mouth, but Artemis glared at him, and he shut it. She regarded him, pleased, then turned to look at her adamant father.

"Look, you still haven't apologized when you wrongly convicted me."

Zeus suddenly cringed, as if he already knew.

"And you robbed me of my throne with no better reason," another cringe, "not that I would want it again," and another, "and remember that he killed two of my brothers today. He will make you or I will make you." Another one. Zeus' face looked permanently wrinkled due to cringing so much.

And despite the subject boy not saying anything about forcing, he nodded.

Zeus looked like a cornered duck. "Uh, all in favor?"

Hands thrust up with speeds beyond compare.

Zeus nodded, defeated. "We'll do the ceremonies after everyone else. Next, for Ares?"

This time there was a volunteer. Frank Zhang stepped forward, his eyes red and sunken as though he spent the past few days staying awake and crying. Artemis wondered what happened to him. And didn't he have a wife and child?

"I volunteer."

The king's nose scrunched up, not like he was annoyed but like he was confused with something, and he turned to look at Athena. "Is a Roman demigod allowed to become a Greek god?"

Athena shrugged, an uncommon gesture coming from her. "There are no rules which don't allow it from both sides, not that I know of. However, I say we do it and have a change of personalities for once. A war general who could think will be quite refreshing."

Children of Ares glared at her.

"Well then, all in favor?" Hands went up.

"Thank you. Finally, for, er, Artemis' throne?"

The crowd murmured amongst themselves. It, Artemis admitted, was a rather difficult position to uphold, and everyone knew that she would want a virgin as a successor, who would follow the same values as she followed, etcetera. If she had a say in the matter, she'd elect one of her hunters to it, but she wasn't sure if they wanted to be undying.

Contrary to fairy tales, immortality wouldn't look as appealing when you already have it. If mortals could already feel bored in their short lives, then more so if they live on forever. The Hunters knew that.

"I nominate my niece," Poseidon then spoke up, and the chatter ceased. "Thalia Grace."

People looked at the lieutenant of the Hunters, who waved, and then at her father, who held his hands up in surrender. "It was my brother who wanted to appoint her, not me. I didn't say any names!"

Everyone talked amongst themselves, a bit of laughing at the king of Olympus, then simultaneously expressed their agreement.

…

That day, three demigods were appointed as three new Olympians, all without the consent of the newest Supreme Being, who had risen to the position as an inheritance beforehand.

And right now, Artemis wondered where the hell he was.

"Hold on," Zeus said as he was about to dismiss the—well, everyone. "Where is Perseus?"

Finally, he noticed, Artemis thought agonizingly, looking around only with her eyes, drinking in every detail. For some reason, she had this feeling that she would only seldom see the room, less so than she would be seeing it as a half-immortal.

"Huh." Poseidon supported his bearded chin with his big hand. "And here I thought you were just blatantly ignoring him."

"You mean you knew where he is?"

"No," the sea god replied offhandedly. "I know that he left, but he didn't tell me where to."

"Well why didn't you tell us sooner?" Zeus almost growled. "You Kelp-Headed Fork-Wielder."

Poseidon shrugged, not at all offended, grinning that Percy grin which Artemis always found annoying and endearing at the same time. Looks like it was a family trait.

Which would mean that Arc must have it too, assuming that he's truly Percy's biological son. But she must be right. Artemis could say no explanation to it; she just thought about it one time, and then, oh, whatever they're telling him must be a lie. She'd tried denying it to herself by thinking up reasons why not, but came up with none.

What she was worked up about was the mother of Arc. There was this bubbling feeling inside her stomach, and she didn't know if it was good type of bubbling, like kid's bubbles, or the bad type of bubbling, like froth or boiling water. After thinking up those analogies, Artemis decided it was bad.

"Ain't he the creator o the universe?" Royce's familiar voice rang out from the back of the crowd. "Why not just let 'im be?"

"Heir of Chaos, child," Zeus corrected. "And we're not even sure about that yet. That's why we need to question him."

There was a small 'he is!' from the back of the Roman crowd.

"But he was just 'ere."

Artemis whirled around, trying to catch sight of her boyfriend's naturally mussed-up hair. At some point, she'd also started looking for the new god of blacksmiths, but he was gone, too.

"Where? Did he talk to you?"

"Yes sir. Said somethin' about leavin' an' packin' up. Said to me, sir."

Artemis started to get dizzy, and she felt a headache. A thin black bordered her vision, and she thought she was going to pass out when it disappeared.

"Royce, did he tell you where he would go?" Poseidon inquired, now as panicked as his younger brother.

"Nome."

That was the last Artemis had heard from the room as the world around her started spinning... and spinning..

"Why. In the Void. Did you break it?!"

Arc's father groaned and mumbled some more obscenities under his breath, all the while pacing his late mother's throne room. The other primordial gods were lined up in a horizontal in front of him, their backs to the door. They looked like a bunch of students in front of an angry principal.

To Arc, it was quite amusing, but scary. If his father had that effect on the powerful elder gods, then he'd be damned if it would be directed to him.

"Arc." Aw, Styx. Enkeli snickered quietly beside him, as if she knew what he was thinking all along. "Where's your mother?"

Arc started. Last time he checked, Percy didn't know any mothers. "M-my mother?"

His father looked at him like he was crazy.

Arc blinked back at him.

Percy turned fully to take a better look at him, a horrified expression slowly coming alive in his face. "Don't tell me you have a different mother than who I'm thinking of."

So he did figure it out. "Ah, no, no!" Arc waved his hands around like a windshield wiper. "Yeah, I know who she is. I thought you were calling her."

The son of the late Chaos narrowed his eyes. "Are you messing with me?"

"I swear Dad, no! I don't know. She didn't appear here with us."

"Then where—"

Suddenly a vortex of black powder materialized next to him, and when the powder dissipated, there was his mother, her gait poor and eyes closed. She was clutching her head.

"Artemis!" Percy hugged her with the strength of a Cyclops. "I thought you didn't pull through and I have to go down again."

"What..?" Her response was groggy. "Where am I..? Why am I in—" Then she woke up, and she pushed him away from her with triple the strength. "Why'd you take me here? Zeus wanted to talk to me!"

"Oh." Arc's father laughed nervously. He now takes it back. He'll be damned if his mother was the one to be angry at him. "We're going down later, anyway. You would come with... yeah?"

Artemis crossed her arms, made an irritated noise at the back of her throat, and faced away from them indignantly.

"We're looking for something, Mother," Arc interrupted before something escalated. Artemis glanced at him, blinking and stunned, the aggravation she previously had now gone. "It's Grandma's missing essence." He created a fireball the size of a tennis ball. "It's about this big—"

"What does it look like?"

"Huh? Uh, sort of a thin black, a bit translucent if you look at it, like in black veils women wear during funerals."

His mother looked a little pale. "I saw that."

"Where, Lady Artemis?" Aether jumped to the role. "Where did you see it?"

"My eyes," she replied, "it just went there and then disappeared, then the next thing I know, I got teleported to who-knows-where." She glared at a certain guy.

Arc jerked to attention when Enkeli and the primordial gods began falling to their knees. Was his mom actually—

"Lady Chaos' chosen," his Aunt Nyx said, her voice loud but reverent. "Hail, Lady Artemis, goddess of the universe and the Void, and, uh, consort to Lord Perseus."

Arc's jaw dropped.

"What?" Percy demanded after a few moments of silence. Artemis was still frozen in shock. "Consort? You mean I—come on! I'm not even official yet!"

"You are, now."

"Don't you be a smartass with me, sis."

Ouranos stood and shook his hands like an epileptic hello. "The universe and the Void now recognize you as their god and supreme being."

"You've got to be kidding me."

"Your family is now royalty."

"What?"

"Archimedes Orion Ja—"

"Please hush with the full name, Lord Pontus."

"Whatever; you're now the god of blacksmiths and fire, forges and volcanoes, Prince of the universe and the Void and the Khaos Court, and consort to uh, say, Lady Enkeli!"

The girl made a muffled disgusted noise.

"Shut up, everyone." The room was abruptly thrust into respectful (and fearful) silence. Some servants could be heard scurrying away from the door. "So you're telling me that Arc is my first and only son, Chaos chose me to be—to be a different her, that I'm supposed to be married to Percy, that he's Order's him, and that you knew about my relationship with Percy all along?"

They simultaneously mumbled a yes. Arc felt somehow powerful and rightfully cocky and proud, because hello, this was his mother! They shared the same blood! But coming with that moment of pride was sadness, the longing, and the embedding of a what-if situation which entailed being raised and with her in his childhood years into the back of his head.

He looked up at his mother, who now looked smug. He wondered if he ever looked like that before. "Hmph. Just as I thought."

The gods' faces told him that they didn't want to be there.

"Where's the ring?" Percy then demanded suspiciously. "You didn't lose it?"

"Of course not," Ouranos sounded offended as he denied it.

"Great. Now Ar—"

Someone barged into the throne room. It was his aunt, Zoë Nightshade.

His mom and his aunt stared at each other, and even Arc wasn't sure whose was more intense. But their meeting was not anything like he'd expected. He'd once been told that they were best friends until his aunt died and went here—he wondered what happened now; they don't look anything like best friends. There wasn't any challenge in their eyes, like, I dare you to break the stare or I'll do it and hug you because I missed you. Their expressions were worryingly blank.

"My lady."

Artemis finally smiled, though the other girl continued to have no visible expression. "Zoë, my brave one."

Zoë's volcanic eyes were steely, but her expression softened. "I heard right, didn't I? You're married? You're the new Chaos?"

"I suppose so. Yes."

Zoë stared at all of them once more, before giving her former leader a smile. "I'm happy for thee, my lady."

Her use of early modern English, thought Arc, indicated that she felt otherwise. But she may be just using it to bring back the old times, not literally.

The atmosphere was still tense. Percy jumped in. "Tell you what: let's all go down to my mom and Paul, so I could introduce you all to them, and then Artemis could talk to Zeus."

"I can't."

Percy frowned, as though he wasn't expecting a rejection. "What?"

"I can't." Zoë was impatient. Her eyes were smoldering. "You must remember that I'm not alive. Not on Earth. I can't leave this place."

It was then that Percy noticed that something was wrong. He exchanged a glance with Ouranos.

"Walk with me, Zoë." Ouranos strode out of the throne room without waiting for her, and eventually, with great reluctance, the girl followed.

Arc's parents looked at each other, frowning. It appears that only Arc, out of them three, was the only one to know what was wrong with the Huntress, but he decided not to say it out loud.

He wasn't that close with his aunt, and if she didn't want anything about her to be exploited by him, then he won't. And if she didn't say anything, then he still won't. Arc knew enough about secrecy to keep to himself something that wasn't in his place to say out loud.

First stop: Olympus. Percy didn't want to go back there, but oh well.

As Artemis stood on her father's front steps, talking to him, Percy and his son Arc hid behind a tree nearby. They didn't want to get spotted accompanying her, since that might make all of their lives harder.

His son Arc. Percy glanced at him. He was fiddling with the iPod that Percy gave to him, the very same iPod that Artemis heard her first love song from. During the walk to Zeus' palace, he'd admitted to them that he knew Everything about himself before the both of them did. He told them that he would say Everything when they get to visiting his mortal grandparents, Percy's parents.

It was surreal. There was a saying that your parents knew what's best for you, but here they were, their child knowing himself more than his parents do. How would Percy become a good father then?

All his life before this, Arc didn't know any biological family. Percy was only a guardian to him—close but personally distant. He was determined to make it up to him by being a good father until he died. Which is to say, who-knows-when.

"Mom looks agitated," Arc observed suddenly. Percy snuck a peek. She was. "Why's that?"

"Maybe he's annoying her," Percy suggested. "She told me that he always did."

"Why? I mean... he's her father."

"Sometimes parents annoy children because of too much mothering, or 'old man's' questions," Percy said contemplatively. "It mostly happens with teenagers."

Arc looked down on his iPod like it was a bother. "Oh."

Percy quickly realized his mistake and was set to remedy it. He grinned and ruffled his son's hair. The boy pushed his hand away with a grunt. "Mostly, Arc. Don't worry, I'll get you and your mother some ice cream later."

A smile bloomed on his son's face. It was the only thing that Percy needed to remind himself that his son was just a kid at heart. He hoped it would be for forever.

…

Next stop: Indiana. Something told him that Sally and Paul moved here.

They walked aimlessly through a small town in Indianapolis. Percy was kept reminded that his companions were a bit bored and annoyed every time they sighed, which they did extensively. He could almost hear them thinking, gods, what a host.

But Percy knew his parents were around here somewhere. He just didn't know which house. So why can't Artemis be (at least) a little thankful that they didn't search the whole state?

Then he felt it. That little spark like from a firework. Percy stopped his family. They were in front of a small sleepy house, the type that grandparents have. He thought that it seemed proper. Well, his parents were in fact grandparents already.

Percy climbed up the steps and approached the door, Artemis and Arc following. He raised his hand to knock.

Then the door opened. His hand fell limply to his side. Two of his family behind him leaned over to get a glimpse of who was at the doorframe.

There was a mop of brushed greying brown hair, but still ponytailed, and the beautiful, wise face wearing it still looking quite youthful. The face was wrinkled, but the most prominent ones were the smile lines around her striking kaleidoscope blue eyes, their radiance never fading. The woman who opened the door was the most beautiful human on Earth, his mother, Sally.

Even while she was aging, slowly drooping, she had a strong hug.

"Percy, my baby boy!" Sally cried with joy. Percy hugged back just as tightly. "I missed you so much."

"You knew I was alive?" Percy tried to sound disappointed. "What a killjoy. I wanted to surprise you."

"You could kill me with a heart attack, honey."

"Oh. Heh. Never mind then."

Sally departed from the hug and regarded him, pleased, then his companions. "Lady Artemis? Oh, and who's this?"

Artemis nodded. Arc smiled timidly and stepped forward. "My name's Arc, ma'am."

"Handsome lad you are."

He blushed. "Uh, thanks."

"Be polite and say Grandma, Arc." Maybe he just didn't want a dramatic reveal later on?

"WHAT REALLY OH MY GODS WHY DIDN'T POSEIDON TELL ME ABOUT THIS UGH WHO'S THE MOTHER? PERSEUS, YOU WILL TELL ME WHO'S THE MOTHER, THIS INSTANT."

Sally moved on from him and hugged the life out of his son. He stifled a laugh at Arc's face, and Artemis kicked him in the shin.

"It's her, Mom." Somehow, he had no difficulty admitting it. Maybe it had something to do with the person he was telling it to, or maybe, a reason he liked most, he'd grown to be proud of having a family like this. Because he was.

"Her?" It took Sally a few seconds to process that. "Her? HER? You mean Lady Artemis?"

"Um, yeah."

Artemis looked afraid that Sally was going to jump on her just as she did to their son, but nothing like that happened.

Sally just took a deep breath. Percy thought she was going to start shouting again, but thankfully, she didn't. If his mother still had enough energy to do that, then hell, he'd no wonder if she magically became immortal just by maintaining positive energy in her system. He was relieved that she didn't stay negative as many parents would have done if they found out that their children were dead. He was a proud son.

"Artemis," Sally began, and she took the goddess's hand. "Come inside. Tell me all the stupid things my son has done while he was gone, won't you?"

Artemis smiled widely, for one reason or another. "Of course, Mrs. Blofis."

"Sally." They went inside. Percy led his son by the shoulder. He certainly got the I-hate-formalities-call-me-by-my-nickname trait from his mother. He loved her so much.

…

Percy liked the new house. It was comfy, warm, and had a '90s look. It reminded him of their old apartment back when he was around five years old, when Gabe still hadn't entered the picture and turned his life to a living hell, which (of course since Gabe was the source of all bad luck ever known to mankind, if not the gods) led to a chain of events that turned his life to a dying hell, something even worse.

But since he was trying to be happy here, he would try not to remember that today.

Percy sat on the sofa, one of his arms propped lazily at the back of the seat, while the women he loved most in his life talked about him and his dunce moments and tendencies. His son sat with him, fiddling with something, his feet crossed underneath him. A pair of blue-grey sneakers laid haphazardly on the floor.

"Say, Mom," Percy began. They looked at him. "Where's Paul?"

"He's on his way here," Sally replied, chuckling a bit. "Went for a check-up. He's getting old, he says. Good thing Andy went with him."

"Andy?"

"Oh, she's your sister." She said it like she expected him to know.

POP! Arc held something that resembled an hourglass, and out from the little thing came a tantamount of confetti. How it fit there and how Arc managed to fit them, Percy left to the wonders of creator gods.

Oh, he was a creator god—sort of. He was supposed to know.

But no one really cared that he was a creator god anyway, and frankly, he didn't, too, so he would try not to remember that he was one today.

Just then, the door creaked open.

"Right home," a young female voice hollered.

There was a scuffling in the hallway, and finally a young woman entered the living room. She was fairly tall. Percy was guessing she was around twenty. Her hair had a salt-and-pepper color, and her eyes were a familiar kaleidoscopic blue.

"Ma we've got—" she was saying, when she saw them sitting on the living room sofas. "Visitors..?"

"They're family, Andy. Especially this handsome man here," Sally said warmly, gesturing to him. "You must know him."

Andy? So this woman was his little sister?

"Uh." Andy squinted at him. "I'm afraid... no. No."

"Look closer," Sally urged excitedly. "Doesn't he look familiar?"

Maybe because we haven't seen each other before, Percy thought before he could stop himself.

"Not really.. Why don't you just tell me?"

Sally pretended to look sad; for someone who had seen the face so many times, Percy could see through it like clear glass. "You've been wanting to meet him for a while now.."

Andy blinked and stared at him with no interest whatsoever. Then someone came from behind her—not Paul, but a man around the same age as Andy's. He had vibrant brown hair and bright blue eyes, and his features were handsome. He looked familiar, even though he was positive that he hadn't seen the guy before.

"Andy—oh." The guy frowned uncomfortably at the sight of them all, until he particularly caught sight of Percy, and his eyes widened comically. "Whoa."

"See? Drake knows him, honey."

"Mom, you can't prove Drake knows him just because he said, 'whoa.'" Seems like her snarky remarks were inherited, but was it from his mom? Paul didn't seem like the type to do that stuff. Percy always thought he inherited that trait from his dad.

"Can I have your autograph, sir?" The guy, now named Drake, conjured a notebook and Sharpie from out of nowhere and offered it to him.

"If he's some sort of celebrity then I don't know who he is by face."

With that, Andy turned to leave, not before sending them visitors an apologetic smile, when Sally went and caught her by the wrist.

"How could you not know your own brother?"

Percy looked up from the Drake's notebook and found himself blinking at Andy as she stared at him incomprehensibly. Then he sent her a wide grin and a wave. Artemis punched him in the side.

"No way. He doesn't look older than me."

"Yes way," Drake objected as Percy returned his notebook. "He's probably immortal, isn't that right sir?"

"Uh, yeah. Oh, and it's Percy."

Andy's eyes went wide. "Brother. Brother. Percy Jackson."

"Me in the flesh," Percy exclaimed with a smile, excited to get to know his little sister who so obviously took after him in manner of speaking.

"Oh, rude of me to let myself be formally unknown to you." Drake stepped forward with the pose of a general, his hand extended, prompting Percy to stand up to meet him. Yes, he was courteous. "My name is Drake Tristan Grace, son of Piper Mclean and Jason Grace."

Percy couldn't stop himself from whistling in appreciation as he shook the man's hand. "No wonder you look familiar."

"And pardon me, but who are you?" Andy then asked politely, finally getting to acquaint with the two others awkwardly sitting there.

"Oh, uh." Percy scratched his nape. "This is Artemis, my um."

Arc and Sally chimed in, respectively.

"Girlfriend."

"Wife."

Artemis, his oh so sweet girlfriend (yes, Arc was right, but that was going to change sooner or later), flushed and tried to find something to glare at. In the end, as always, she settled for glaring at him.

"Um." Andy scratched her cheek. Percy was now convinced she took after him. "Isn't Artemis supposed to be someone bitter?"

Percy stifled a laugh, and Artemis glared at him some more, adding a harder kick to the shin.

"I thought Grandma was just spreading rumors about seeing them together in her mirror. Turns out it wasn't that way."

"Aphrodite screws privacy all the time."

"And you?" Andy cut through the small talk, eager to get finished with the introductions. She'd addressed Arc, who looked uncomfortable.

"Call me Arc. Arc Jackson," his son's tone boosted with a slight burst of confidence at saying his name. "I'm their son."

Andy swayed her head back and forth, literally trying to wrap her head around the idea. She definitely took after him.

"Well," Sally finally said, setting down a plate of glasses and a pitcher of juice. "I think we have a lot of catching up to do."

Percy sat down on the curb with three cones of ice cream.

Percy watched his own little family as they happily tasted their treats. With the current appearance they're all in, they would look like three normal teenagers enjoying an afternoon together, just eating their worries away on ice cream.

Artemis, in particular, licked her ice cream much like a child.

She looked at him with mock anger. "What are you looking at?" Percy supposed it was meant to sound angrier, but, well.

"Nothing." He smiled, and dug into his ice cream, hiding that smile. Unfortunately, the thing didn't quite stick to the waffle and dropped to the ground between his feet.

Arc was the first to laugh.

"Idiot," Artemis mumbled through her fingers, her coughing beginning to sound suspiciously like a wolf's happy growling.

"Well, at least I know my luck would be a whole lot better soon," Percy said optimistically.

"How do you know it's not karma?" Arc questioned.

"I'm Percy Jackson. Bad luck practically eats me up."

Then he watched as the bulk of his son's ice cream decided to fall off its steed and attach itself onto Percy's shirt, giving it a stain.

They stared at it as it melted, and then out of the blue, Percy asked, "Artemis, what do you think goes well with any gift?"

Artemis looked horribly blank. Oh no, Percy thought. If this doesn't work out, I'm going to kill myself. She asked, "The type of gift, or material?"

Maybe it is going work out. "Type."

"Uh, I don't know." For a silent moment, Percy panicked. Until she spoke again. "Food? Everyone loves food."

"In that case," Percy stood and took the remaining dessert on his shirt and stepped over to her. He kneeled.

Her hand went up to cover her mouth.

Arc minded his cool dessert, trying to look uninterested.

"So I'm not good with speeches," he started with his usual flair, "but I'm going to say that I love you with all my heart and soul and that I want to spend my eternity with you, so will you—"

Suddenly, Arc coughed while sipping his ice cream, interrupting Percy's short speech. Percy blamed him. His confidence fell in an instant. His free hand went to his bulky back pocket.

"Will you uh.. Will you..?"

"Um, sorry Dad?"

"Choose between this ring or this ice cream?" Percy smiled widely, his eye twitching.

Artemis frowned, and Percy almost melted like the ice cream he was holding.

Speaking of which, it was dripping all over the asphalt. He took a moment to shift his feet to avoid the small puddle it was forming.

"That's the corniest proposal ever."

Percy let go of the dessert completely and opened the velvet box (which he somehow transferred from his pocket to his hand whilst in a state of nervousness), where an essence diamond gold ring sat elegantly. "I'll tell you a cornier one. Will you be the blue to my cookies, to my cherry coke, to my pancakes—"

"The blue?"

"Yeah. I love blue." Percy grinned, not anymore uneasy. "It makes everything in my life complete."

To his utmost satisfaction, a bit of gold tinted her cheeks. Ah yes, Percy grinned wider. The gold blood was also his work. And a bit of his mom's.

Arc coughed some more. What a mood lifter.

All of a sudden, Artemis glared at him, and Percy thought she was going to start yelling.

Instead, she turned to Arc, rubbing the boy's back, yet still speaking to Percy. "Hold it Voidoo; our son could die of suffocation if he continues to snort his ice cream."

Percy blinked, then smiled happily. A new nickname, a new noun for Arc. He'd take it as a yes at any day.

-*Three Months Later*-

"What a waste of trees and ink."

She twirled the glittering white envelope in her hands, before finally deciding to toss it off the balcony.

But it stayed suspended in the air.

She blinked at it for a second, and then spun around to meet her company.

"Just because you didn't receive one doesn't mean you have the right to throw away mine," Ouranos joked.

Her lips pressed firmly on themselves, she exhaled through her nose and turned away from her warden.

"Oh, don't be that way," he chastised, tapping his toe on the floor twice, an unusual mannerism he has. How did he even get there without her noticing? She had the servants to alert her whenever someone wanted to see her. Then again, he could have just warped in. "At least you weren't given a product of 'wasted trees and ink.'"

It was true that she was invited, although personally, and it was true that written invitations were an enormous waste of resources as they could have done so the same way they invited her, and that is to say personally, and it most definitely was true that she, personally, wasn't thrilled to be invited.

What's more, she wasn't just a guest. They invited her personally for a reason.

She heard Ouranos sigh lengthily from behind her. "You know, being asked to be the maid of honor is really... an honor. You should be... um, honored."

Honored? It wasn't an event, it wasn't a crowd, that she wanted anything to do with.

She exhaled and turned away, looking down on the citizens buzzing beneath her. She hoped she could be as ignorant, as small as they were. It saved them from pain.

"I guess you aren't, Zoë?" Ouranos perched beside her. "If you want, we could swap places! But that won't work obviously, because, you know. I really wanted to be his best man. But of course, he'd get his boy to be it, so I had no chance. Would you think of us who wanted to be in a place similar as yours?"

Zoë pursed her lips indecisively. "I could maybe... ask Enkeli to swap with me. She would like it, right?"

"I'm not certain." She looked at Ouranos in surprise. His tone sounded blank, as if he didn't really know what he was saying. "She's currently in a state of denial." He glanced at her with his eyes. "Or so her mother says. I think she likes Arc. Needs some space from him for a while, I think."

Well can't Ouranos see that she also needed space from—?

"And as for you on that matter, you've already created enough space as it is. I think it's time you went and made things over with."

"It's nothing like that."

"I know it is."

"It's not.

"Zoë." She turned at the steeper tone in his voice. "Tell him. Before the wedding."

While that would benefit her, it would trouble him. If she did tell him, then he would probably tell his fiancé too as he was not one to hide something in his chest, and when that happened, not only one, but two friendships might go down the chute leading straight to the Lethe.

Knowing the guy, he'd feel guilty even if it wasn't his fault. But then again, it kind of is.

It was his fault that her life, her perfect, glowing dot-connected life, was slowly withering away in its own black hole of piercing consciousness, which had grown too sensitive that she'd not known how to not know anything in the world anymore, resulting in her brushing off almost everything too ordinary—from an important examination date to the next World War—and indirectly unpeeling herself from the greying Earth overworld in the process, numbing her past and present and in turn the future, which transformed her visions of vivid futuristic scenes into dull black-and-white '70s films, as if everything was just a sick predictable joke made to be watched in the cinema.

But she wasn't the type of person to thrust her problems onto other people's shoulders. She wouldn't want to do that to him, anyway, however strong he was. And even though it was only Ouranos urging, it felt like everyone was pushing her to do so.

"You know, Chaos never really had any servants," Ouranos thought aloud, pushing the topic into an unexpected turn. Zoë, who was about to speak, pacified. "She's the Queen of the Universe. She's very powerful. I still wonder to this day why she didn't get any servants."

Zoë was still too stunned to speak.

The god snapped his fingers. "I should have asked her."

"She has servants, doesn't she?" the Huntress then inquired carefully. "There are servants in her palace. They polish her throne and her shoes."

Ouranos waved the question away. "They're not really servants. They're citizens who came of their own free will; they wanted to have the privilege. Chaos just lets them. She's cool like that."

"The nymphs?"

"Some of those are the trees in her garden. They consider living there a given privilege, too, so they send her fruits to pay her back. One time they asked to make her a personal cherry tree, for shade and all of that, even though the only local place she stays in is her throne room. So of course she disagreed."

Zoë slid her hand along the balcony rail. "In that case, perhaps she thought she wouldn't need them, as she already has plenty unofficial servants to do her bidding."

Ouranos looked at her as if she just stated that she didn't know how to recite vowels. "You know she isn't the type to take advantage of people."

She wrinkled her nose in remembrance, propping her elbows on the rail, supporting her chin with her palms. He had always been like that, not taking advantage of people. If Chaos was like that, then maybe he was meant to be her heir. Maybe he'd always been.

Likewise, if she'd always been a huntress, through life and death, maybe she was destined to be here. Maybe she was supposed to die and live through death this way. If he'd always been Chaos' heir, maybe he was destined to come there. If he was, maybe they were meant to meet. They've both met in life and in death. They were supposed to be friends.

But the Fates supposed they would be just friends.

She'd be lying if she told someone that she liked it that way.

"Hey," Ouranos piped up then, his tone becoming serious. "Look, I think you're missing my point here."

Her eyebrow rose. "You were implying something..?"

"Chaos always liked to do things alone," Ouranos said, twiddling his thumbs, "since Order left her. I guess you could call it the shutting-out phase. No one really felt shut out though, because she got over that phase when she bore children, which would be Nyx, Gaea."

"Who was first?"

"Not important. But even after that, she did things alone. It's in her nature. She's the first being—sort of. So while she was creating everything else for her planets, the else that's not in Order's blueprints, all she had for company was her mind, which kind of functioned as her first friend and adviser."

"Like her mind has a mind of its own."

"Yeah. It's real sketchy." He shrugged. "Anyway, that meant she has constant debates in her mind. Decisions. Worries. That sort of stuff. It automatically goes without saying that it's all difficult to handle."

Zoë actually didn't realize that until she was told just now. She thought that all Chaos burdened were her work, maybe add Percy to the bunch (because that boy was already a bundle of trouble—and trouble-magnet—as he is), and that was it. She didn't realize that Chaos fought a constant battle all the time. She was surprised that Chaos faded sane.

"You know, Zoë, she keeps her problems to herself. She has that ego." Ouranos let a fond smile fly, remembering his late grandmother, whom he'd spent countless millennia with. "She's stubborn; it seems a habit of her to not ask for help. She thinks she could solve them all so easily. Not that we've really tried it, but, Chaos probably won't tell anyone of anything she decided as a 'problem easy but long to deal with', unless she was given some serious persuading, with mild intimidation and certainty of her internal struggles on the matter."

"I understand what you're trying to say." She wasn't lying. "But I won't do it." Now maybe she was.

Ouranos smiled meaningfully, as though reading her mind. "I didn't make a speech about my lovely grandmother for nothing, Zoë Nightshade," he informed quite unnecessarily. "If you don't do it, I will leap over this balcony."

"Then do it. Nothing will happen."

"That's right, nothing will happen. The same goes for when you don't do it. So do it."

The smirk that Ouranos was giving her just made him look more annoying as he was so awfully right for the first time, and it was the correct time to be, too.

It was her lady's day.

Well, technically former, since she was now the person whom the Hunters say "my lady" to.

Thalia felt somewhat strange watching from the backseat as the wedding unfolded. It was like she didn't even know all the people associated in the event; yet she was happy for them. Because she'd always thought that there was no romantic relationship that ended in happiness, as Beryl and Zeus, both of whom she was biologically related to, were prime examples. Well, to her initial embarrassment, she was wrong.

Of course, it was nothing easy accepting her new role wholeheartedly and live it like how she lived out with breathing, so she at least had something negative to say about the engagement. For one, why did the fourth female Olympian who led the Hunters have to be single? Further on it, why was the Hunters of Artemis not disbanded yet after the goddess herself had been ejected from the position of being its leader, after she'd forsaken her own vows, which interconnects to the rules that make the group intact, and at the same time, wrongly deprived of her throne and banished?

(The statement which, according to a really old rule that Artemis managed to dig up, cannot be taken back. On the same note, Artemis did not say anything about transitioning the group name into a more creative one, though it might've been already prominent and mandatory that the name would, in fact, adapt with the huntress leading the group holding it.)

Ooh, maybe she could change the uniform to spiked leather jackets and black eyeliners. But, well, if she couldn't change the name, then she couldn't change the uniform.

Regardless, she wouldn't be able to do anything about it. Even though perhaps her group should be called the Hunters of Thalia now, there were other things that gave her better reasons to be happy.

Namely, the wedding.

It was a good change, finally witnessing something peaceful—and something that would last more than a lifetime. Thalia had been so used to monsters and their crazy masters and the wars they waged, that she needed a breather like this to remind her what it was like to really just live without caring about anything.

It all felt so new, so different, so unreal. It was like she needed something wrong to go with everything else to make them feel right.

No, not right—normal.

That might be what she wished (a real odd wish, that was,) but there were some things she saw that might not be on the wish list.

A hunter elbowed her. "Thalia," she said. It was Jean, and thank the gods she knew Thalia enough not to call her any funny names. "Hey, it's happening."

Thalia looked over as the newlywed couple kissed to a large amount of applause.

She glanced back at Jean. "Why do you look so excited?"

"For Lady Artemis!" the mortal exclaimed, bouncing lightly on her feet. "I've never seen her this well happy before."

"Right," Thalia decided blankly, about to disagree. "You mean unlike that time when she was fresh out of the war—"

"She was proud."

"Okay, but that time when she managed to convince those stupid cheerleader girls to join the hunt—"

"She was only satisfied."

Thalia got a little exasperated. "Fine, she's pleased. That count?"

"Well sure, whatever you say, but she's not as happy then as she is now."

"Hmm." The daughter of Zeus frowned thoughtfully. "Personally, I think it has little to do with her being with Percy and all, and the majority of it about getting away from—"

"Oh, look, wow," Jean cut her off edgily, unaware of the new goddess's weary glare at being interrupted for the third time, instead focusing on the rest of the Olympians clapping calmly near their side, not quite close but close enough to be on earshot. "We're heading to reception."

And true it was, as the crowd made way for the couple to pass through to the garden where the fun will be.

Fun = food. Food = fun. In Thalia's head, it was all very simple.

The place radiated all kinds of happiness.

The Nine Muses took their music up to greater measures, never missing a beat. Thalia's lip curled. Puns.

Seeing her hunters acquainted in their seats, chatting with some of the minor goddesses and each other, Thalia took the opportunity to walk around.

There had to be at least once in her life when she would walk through Olympus without anything broken, like a leg or a dignity.

..Okay, maybe the latter one was a bit overkill, but it expressed her feelings all the same.

And oh, she'd learned the perks of being silent a long time ago. It was just now that she really learned to appreciate it, since she never did go silent without needing it to survive.

Now she just used it to perceive as much as she dared.

Percy and Artemis were talking to some guests, some Thalia didn't even recognize. It seemed to drain Percy out physically, too, though that made no sense as they were just talking. He looked relieved when Artemis took over the conversation for him.

Thalia never struck Artemis as a person who did small talk. The immortal was always direct to the point that there wasn't any room for small talk. But quite apparently, people change.

Thalia moved along.

Zeus and the primordial Ouranos were trying to arm wrestle. But they were far too busy lightly insulting the other.

The new hunter goddess rolled her eyes before sweeping them over the tables. The Olympians and the primordial gods sat together. Mostly that was a good thing.

Her brother, Jason, sat with the other two demigods from the Giant War, along with their children. Actually, she could only tell that Frank was sat with them because of some feathers left in some seats. He was probably chasing his daughter again.

"Hey sis." Jason smiled, showing off a bit of his canines. "Nice job showing up without a broken leg."

Oh, so he had the nerve to mention that one. "Gee, thanks."

"Ignore him," Piper said fondly. "He had to get back at someone because his son rendered him speechless."

"Oh yeah." Thalia almost forgot that there was a third runt. "Where's Tris?"

"Off with his girlfriend."

"Where? He better be treating her good."

"Well, he has to. Else he has her brother to face."

Thalia smiled a little. She liked good brothers. "Have any idea where they went off to?"

Piper shook her head. "They're just around here."

"Here?" Thalia doubted that. "The girl's invited?" Mortals were allowed into Olympus for the time being, as long as the gods allowed it.

"Apparently. Drake just told us today." The daughter of Aphrodite huffed.

Jason shrugged, in turn. "As long as there's no funny business, I'm cool with it."

"Who's the girl?"

The couple exchanged a glance. "You'll see."

Thalia first gave them a look, and then moved on. There was more to hear.

Angel—Enkeli, was talking to some minor gods and goddesses with Arc Jackson beside her, looking really uncomfortable. Nike was scrutinizing the boy carefully.

"I hear that he is Valdez's reincarnation," a voice drawled from behind her, with an old faded accent. She knew that voice.

It was Zoë Nightshade's.

"Holy sh—!"

Zoë stared at her with uninterested half-lidded eyes. "I don't look as surprising as them, hmm?" She jerked her head towards the newlywed couple.

Thalia blinked, her stomach settling from the inconvenient panic attack. "Come to think of it, yeah. Yeah, you're right."

Zoë huffed, subconsciously reaching up to feel if her braids were intact, which to Thalia, was a bit unnecessary, since the braid was pulled taut with a silky black string almost as dark as her hair.

"Right Zoë," Thalia prompted, "you were saying?"

"Valdez is reborn as that boy, Percy's son. I still don't believe that he turned out well-mannered than that boy he'd been."

"Well I could believe it," the daughter of Zeus reckoned aloud, making a smacking sound with her lips. "He's Artemis's son."

For some reason, that remark made her previously dead companion upset, as though she didn't like to be disagreed on.

Thalia narrowed her eyes and took the risk of throwing an arm around the other girl's shoulders as she made to escape her company. The girl made a strangled noise in her throat.

"Naw, you're coming with me, friend." Thalia let loose a witchlike giggle. Zoë looked more worried than annoyed.

They passed Percy's mom, Sally Jackson-Blofis, speaking with Poseidon while her husband Paul frowned at Athena as she differed on his teaching methods, which the goddess called 'too carefree' and 'slow'.

"Mrs. Blofis?" She dared to address.

The conversations stopped, and all of them, even the two gods, turned to her. Thalia suddenly felt like shrinking.

"Thalia!" The woman hugged her as if she was one of her own offspring. Thalia relaxed and let a smile fall through as she hugged back.

"I haven't seen you in ages!"

"So to speak, Ma'am."

"How have you been?"

"I've been great, Ma'am." Not counting the part when her former best friend disguised as her and made her look like a traitor in front of her own father; no, she was just fine. "I became a goddess."

Sally's eyes lit up. "That's wonderful! Are you still in the Hunters of... of whoever's leading them now?"

Zoë winced. Thalia guessed she didn't like the fact that Artemis wasn't leading the hunter group anymore.

She replied, "Yeah, seeing as I'm the leader."

Sally wavered for a moment, and then frowned. "Hmm. So that long chat with Percy isn't as long as I thought, then."

"Maybe that is the case, Ma'am."

"Hmm.." Then she noticed Zoë, who was watching the woman's three other companions with something like serene contemplation. "Who's this young lady?"

"Huh? Oh—!" The Huntress mumbled, caught off guard, an occurrence unusual about her. "I am Zoë Nightshade, Mrs. Blofis."

"Zoë?" Sally studied the girl, smiling warmly. "It's nice to finally meet you, dear; Percy has told me a lot about you."

"He—he has?" Zoë looked so surprised, as if she didn't expect it despite the fact that she and Percy were friends.

"Of course. You're his best friend, am I right?"

Thalia smiled wryly. Okay, best friends. She stood corrected.

Zoë gave her a weak glare, like she could hear what she was thinking. Then she turned back to Sally. "Yes," she responded reluctantly.

Thalia wanted to move along to the pair of the event. "I'll leave you alone, then, Zoë?"

Zoë looked at her and seemed ready to concede.

"Oh!" Sally exclaimed, glancing from Thalia, to her son, then back to Thalia, and then finally settling on Zoë. "Have you an appointment, my dear?"

"Um, I uh..." Zoë blinked repeatedly, seemingly flustered.

"No, you go on ahead." The queen among women smiled earnestly, holding her husband's hand. It appears that the two gods have already left to somewhere else. "I don't mind."

The Huntress murmured a Thank You before going over to Thalia and matching her stride. After a few moments, she spoke.

"I didn't want to stop talking to her."

Thalia gave her friend a sideways glance. "I noticed." Also the fact that you acted oddly back there, I noticed that too.

They remained silent among the loud happiness that surrounded them, until they got to where the newlywed couple was.

Thalia found a pleasant surprise.

"Tris!" she exclaimed happily. The boy turned just as Thalia's hand descended upon his head, ruffling his neatly arranged brown hair. Which looked pretty ridiculous, since her nephew was taller than her by a few inches. "You little—aw yeah, you're not little anymore. But runt, you're still a runt."

Drake made an annoyed grumbling noise with his throat. His face reddened down to his Adam's apple. He made a futile effort to fix his hair.

"Thalia," Percy reprimanded with a crooked smirk. "Don't embarrass the guy."

"I'm his aunt."

"There's someone here who doesn't know that."

It was only then that Thalia noticed another person in their little party, one beside her nephew. She looked familiar somehow.

"Oh, Tristan." Thalia realized it maybe a second too late than expected. "Your girlfriend?"

Artemis blinked in surprise, while Percy looked offended. "My sister."

Thalia frowned in confusion, and then looked at her cousin pointedly. "We spoke plenty of times before this wedding of yours, and you never told me you had a sister, Kelp Head."

"My bad, then." Percy shrugged the matter off carelessly, the turned to glare at his sister's boyfriend. Thalia was thinking that her cousin was a little hard to take seriously right now because of the flowers on his head. "'Best friend', huh?"

"Brother!" Percy's sister spoke for the first time since they've been there. "He's never done anything."

"I'll vouch for Tris," Thalia cut in, suddenly feeling gleeful. "He's a good kid. Besides, he is my nephew."

Artemis appeared torn towards a logical and a biased opinion, so she didn't offer any input.

Meanwhile, Percy still looked suspicious, but he sighed in defeat. "I knew Jason and Piper, so.." He sighed again. "You can't be any bad, I guess."

Thalia could recognize the familiar clenching of her nephew's jaw as it happened, which usually meant he was either angry or holding back his mouth from forming any curved shape. Judging by the situation, she decided it was the latter.

"But," Percy piped up with a pause, "one wrong move, Grace.." He smiled thinly at him.

Drake nodded stiffly.

Zoë, (who, admittedly, was almost forgotten by all of them,) chose that opportunity to clear her throat. "Percy, a moment?"

The group broke apart accordingly.

Thalia seized the first chance she saw. "Artemis, I thought Zoë was dead?"

The goddess stared at her. "And here I thought you couldn't be more blatant," she stated bluntly. Then she huffed. "She still is."

"Huh?" Thalia scratched her head. "But... this is Earth."

"I could see that." Artemis straightened the crown of flowers on her head. "She was given life for three Khaos days. And then Ouranos brought her along to here."

"Hmm." With her first curiosity fed, Thalia then sized up her new cousin. (Honestly, she was this old and Percy never told her.) "What's your name, girl?"

"Andromeda Blofis, Miss," the girl said bashfully.

The new hunter goddess blinked, comprehending the fact that maybe after twenty years, the Blofises not having any children would be, in fact, weird. She wondered why she expected her new cousin to be a demigod.

Then she grunted. "What do you want me to call you? Personally, I'd like you to call me Thalia, or whatever Tris calls me. You can ask him."

"Andy is fine, Thalia."

"Well then." The spunky daughter of Zeus grinned. "Hello, future niece-in-law of mine. I'm Thalia, daughter of Zeus and goddess of the Hunt."

Artemis looked unsettled. "They're just friends and you're already talking marriage, Thalia. And please hold back from using that title? I still can't get over it, heedless of what I showed in the throne room."

"Artemis.." It never did occur to Thalia that the former Olympian missed being with her hunters. "Sorry."

Artemis, her smile waning like a crescent moon, nodded and rested a hand on her sister's shoulder reassuringly.

"Lady Artemis," Andy put in respectfully, after nursing the heat that rose to her face. "May we go now?"

With an affirmative from the event's bride, the pair left off to who-knows-where. Then, as if on cue, another pair came by, one noisier than the last.

"Lady Artemis!" Enkeli wailed. "Look at this dress Zoë got me. Archie ruined it!"

"Did not! You drove yourself straight to the food tables! Not my fault!"

"Arc," Artemis said tiredly, as if she'd been doing this for a long period of time now. "Please stop provoking her."

The boy gaped at his mother. "I didn't! She said that I liked her but I didn't, so—"

He stopped abruptly, realizing his mistake. The young goddess looked ready to bawl.

"He-hey Kelli, I'm sorry—ah!"

Enkeli slapped him, hard. Thalia winced at the sharp sound. The daughter of Nyx, soundless, made a run for it.

"Kelli, wait! I'm sorry!"

The youngster scampered off.

Artemis massaged her temples, watching her son chase his friend before they were out of view. "I hope Percy's ready for Nyx. She's going to be so-o-o pissed."

"What was that about?" Thalia wondered.

Artemis looked at her confused successor curiously. "How are you, Thalia?" she asked instead, surprising the object of her address at the sudden inquiry.

"Me? I'm fine." Though her voice came out higher pitched than normal.

The elder daughter of Zeus shook her head. "You know what I mean."

Of course Thalia did. It was more than the matter of her level of sanity and intact limbs. In truth, she didn't know. What was she supposed to say?

"I... I think so," she managed.

Artemis's face then displayed a small smirk, regarding Thalia with something like familiarity and reminiscence. "From the years we've spent together, I can infer that you will be wishing to change the Hunt's uniform into leather jackets and chains."

Almost perfect. She missed a spot.

That thought, however, flew out of Thalia's mind as words floated to her ear.

"—not have forced you," Percy was saying apologetically, his voice louder than he intended. "But you should have told us, still."

Zoë appeared to grow more distressed by the second. "You would have been stubborn," she said, "you wouldn't have let me."

"Of course we would've let you!" Percy looked shocked at her words. "All you had to do was ask, and we would've let someone else, like Thalia, to be the maid of honor!"

The Huntress shook her head, doing so as if it pained her to. "It's not like I would have a reason for you. Not then."

"Well, now, what is your reason?"

Zoë didn't answer.

Thalia had a feeling that it was getting to personal for her to hear. Heck, she wasn't supposed to hear anything in the first place.

Apparently, Artemis thought otherwise.

Oh, Thalia swore, that goddess acts so brash sometimes.

"Percy?" The pair turned. One of them opened their mouth to speak.

"RIGHTY THEN!" Hera's joyful voice suddenly blared through invisible speakers. Most of the people jumped in surprise.

"Now it's time for our guests to pelt rice—uh, I mean for our bride and groom's first dance! I know, I know, Hestia; might not be a first dance. We pretend! Now please hush."

Thalia saw Artemis give her an amused smile, before catching Percy's hand with her slender own. The guests chuckled as the bride led the groom, instead of the other way around, to the center of the garden, beside the magnificent water fountain.

The Nine Muses magically altered their music sheets, leading their music to a different course; and the couple danced.

Step. Sway. Step. Thalia watched with fascination as the pair spiraled around the circular fountain, all the while not separating their interlocked hands. She could safely guess, with some amusement, that they practiced more than thirty days and nights to perfect their 'first dance'.

But they looked like they were... dueling. They were in complete sync, cooperating, but the way they looked at each other.. They had the flare of challenge in their eyes, along held with their brilliant smiles which looked like they were only displayed for show.

Maybe they didn't practice too hard after all.

Thalia was jealous.

A movement beside her caught her eye. Zoë stood still, watching the pair dance just like everyone else, but her shoulders stooped. Her eyes held something like defeat, and sadness.

Thalia's eyes flashed. She could see her late best friend, little and innocent with her new bronze dagger, in Zoë. She remembered how blissful the kid had been before Zeus decided to ruin the party by turning his daughter into a useless tree, which turned his daughter's guy friend into a stupid villain who, in time (pun intended), absorbed a supervillain into his body, and in turn, forcefully turned the blissfully innocent kid into a warrior who only sought someone to lend her strength.

Thalia's head throbbed. Three Khaos days. Thirty-six Earth hours.

Maybe Thalia shouldn't be jealous. Maybe her cousin, however powerful he now was, still had a lot to learn. Maybe she was still the older one, the one who knew better. Maybe she still had to knock some kelp out of that head...

Argh, thinking like this had always made her head hurt.

Come to think of it, that kelp-headed cousin of hers always made people's head hurt, whether it was physically or mentally. Chaos must've been the one who set him straight.

That thought sounded strange in her head.

Chaos..

That woman, Percy's second mother. For someone who was peaceful, her name sure sounded like it could take a ton of souls. Thalia wondered if Order named her like that on purpose.

Meaninglessly speaking, chaos was bad. It was a mindless mess. But it successfully finished stuff. War was chaos. War ended in peace. Chaos leads to order.

But should everything have to become a mumbo jumbo before it could be solved? There was something called prevention. If Zeus hadn't been too arrogant, more than just one war could've been stopped before they started.

(It looked to Thalia that she was blaming her father for everything. Heh. Let her.)

So, thirty-six hours. Thalia had only around twenty-four left to slap her cousin upside the head, maybe shock him too, for good measure, and tell him that not only one hunter, not only one person, had her life in chaos.

END

AN: Well, that's that. I would admit, reading my own composition again after a year surprised even myself, since this, my own story, is what I would call "good shit". I guess I didn't realize it while I was writing it. You fellow authors should try it sometime. Anyway, thank you for sticking around until the very end. This reposting has just made me even more proud of my work, and I hope you all like it.

~SmartzyFan