Here is the first adopted chapter. I hope you enjoy :) I know I enjoyed tortur-I mean pushing my 'helpers'. haha.

-Jessie.

It was hard work, the digging. Not just that, but the guessing. That little niggle at the back of his mind as he directed himself to all those sites, there were so many. The sun was relentless, as if trying to act as a deterrent to his work. He scoffed, the moon was no help either, shielding it's light from them during the darkness, almost as if it was weeping.

The sweat ran down his back as he continued to dig. He just had to continue to hope, hope was the only thing driving him, hope was the only reason why this was worth it. Without hope what did he have? A doomed future, a dying world?

He stopped and straightened himself out, he looked around. To the bundle of people working a few feet alongside him. He let himself have a weary smile, they didn't have a clue. They had no idea about the reality of the world around them, it's tears and its weeping, the turmoil of it all. And to him that was fine.

He laughed. He wanted to be like them, oh he so desperately wanted to be like them. He didn't want to face this, he didn't want to face reality, not when it was like this.

A loud cheer broke him out of his stupor, a few feet away something had been discovered. He felt himself plop down on the ground. He didn't join in on the euphoria , he felt like he should've. After all he was the one that started this whole dig, and it looked like they'd found what he had been looking for.

He forced himself up as one of his fellow archaeologists waved him over, a brilliant fellow by the name of Lloyd. His eyes narrowed as he took hold of the artefact, and somewhere, in the dark recesses of his mind, something clicked. A wave of nausea hit him. His stomach clenched, this wasn't joy.

A single sentence was resonating within Alex Freeman's mind. It was more of a message really, something his mother told him. Colours ran through his mind, a brilliant red, the most heavenly sliver, and a pair of startling grey orbs.

'When you find it Alex remember this, it is not the end, it is just the beginning'.

His gaze flickered to the umbrella shaped pine tree situated just twenty feet ahead of him. The world around him flickered and blurred, the colours mixing with white, grey and yellow. The mirage of the green and healthy pine tree was replaced with a rotting stump. The leaves had long been lost to the sands of time, it's roots were diseased and broken.

Alex Freeman laughed, one that the others around him mistook for happiness. No, this wasn't happiness, it was a realisation. This world wasn't dying, it was already dead.

Percy POV.

Percy Jackson was dreaming. At least he thought he was dreaming. He vaguely remembered what happened a few hours ago. It was his eighteenth birthday party, there was a lot of alcohol involved. And the next thing he knew, he was standing in a wasteland.

The sky was bleeding, it was bleeding with the colour of red and sliver. Flashes of fire streaked through the sky and it just burned and burned. Its fire raging and clawing at his skin.

The land around him wasn't any better. The grass had died and long since turned into dirt. Smudges of ash flew through the air, hundreds of the burning snowflakes rushed past his body. Wooden buildings burned around him, and a hammer hit his chest when he realised, this was Camp Half-Blood, this was his home.

He pushed his legs off the ground, feeling the smoke and ashes enter his lungs with each passing step. Each cabin he passed by was the same, desolate, destroyed, broken. But his heart truly stopped when he reached the beach.

The beach was no longer a beach, it was instead a graveyard, a litany of death. The waters around Long Island had long since been evaporated, leaving behind the memories of it's existence, steam rising off the ground. Rotting animals filled the entire landscape, killed by the burning sky, the burning sun. Swarms of mosquitoes surrounded the carcasses, feasting upon the scent of decay, living in the world of death.

His stomach clenched when he realised that it wasn't just animal carcasses. A flash of orange caught his eye, and strands of blonde hair floated in front of him, as if mocking him.

"Annabeth." The words died in his throat as he caught more flashes of orange across the horizon. Names flashed through his mind, Travis, Katie, Piper, Leo. There were too many to name, but all he could remember were their eyes, their eyes were blank, and so dead. Oh god they were so dead. The colour red having been smeared across their faces, almost as a symbol, a meaning.

Another light caught his attention, streaks of orange mixed with the strands of sliver across the burning sky. It was the stars, Lucifer, the morningstar. The stars were falling, they were dying, and it burned, it lit up the entire world.

One of the streaks of orange was coming in his direction, it was coming in closer and closer, like a soldier embracing death. It landed with a massive shockwave, just below the horizon, its impact further fuelling the fire and destruction behind him. It had seemed that even the world itself had given up.

He forced himself off the ground, and against his better judgement, ran to the fallen star, oh how far it had fallen. And as he got closer he realised that the star that had fallen wasn't Lucifer, rather it was the moon, the moon had fallen.

The chariot that had guided the lovely moon, the morningstar, it had crashed down to this earth. It's sides were charred and burnt, it's once lovely glow was replaced by death, it was broken. Death had run rampant upon the world.

Tears welled up in his eyes as he saw a hand hanging limply at the side of the chariot. He started to turn back, he couldn't see it, he couldn't make himself see it.

The smell of cooking human flesh reached his nostrils and the bile rised up from the back of his throat. The steaming didn't help preserve the bodies at all.

"Pe-Percy." There was a voice behind him that made him stop. Surely she wasn't alive, the world had died, there was no reason why she should be alive.

"P-Percy." There it is again, that voice, he felt himself turn around. He let himself hope, that cursed emotion. But that hope soon died when he reached the side of the chariot. And was instead filled with the void of anguish.

Thalia Grace laid in the chariot, her other arm was bent at an weird angle. There were tears slowly lining down her cheeks. But what use were tears now? Tell me!

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," she sobbed. "But it's too late now Percy. We've failed."

Percy laughed mirthlessly, they had already failed long before. That attempt was a grasp into the wind.

And Percy Jackson stood by Thalia Grace as the world continued to burn, as the stars continued to fall. After all, it was only them.

A loud gasp filled the Poseidon cabin as a boy bolted up from his bed. Everything was soaked with sweat, from his shirt to his sheets.

That boy would sit in that bed for quite some time. Pondering the meaning of that dream. And he would cry, oh he would weep for what he saw. The death and after of the world.

Thalia POV:

Thalia Grace was dreaming. Well at least she thought that she was dreaming. She remembered how she had just come back from a hunt with the other hunters, how they were congratulating each other. She remembered heading to her tent, and crashing onto her bed. Just for a snooze.

The next thing she knew, she was in the middle of a wasteland. And it was cold. Gods was it cold. Thalia held back a shiver as a gust of icy wind washed over her. The ground she stood on was a desert of ash-coloured snow. Like gathering dust.

The sky, a dark emptiness. Dark, but not quite black. An unknown colour that sucked in everything good. In the far distance, Thalia could see a glowing, blue orb. It provided no light, nor warmth. If Thalia were to take a wild guess, she would say that it was the moon. The only thing it seemed to do, was turn the air into an icy blue mist, so that Thalia couldn't see one step ahead of her in any direction.

But Thalia wasn't one sit by idly when placed in a strange world. So, with her arms wrapped tight around her, she marched onward through the mist. As she walked, she noted how it seemed so similar. How it seemed that she was walking in circles in an endless forest. Except, this was no forest. There were no trees, no animals, no people. There was no form of life. Except for her.

Suddenly, she stumbled, and found herself hitting the ground with a loud thud. It was odd. Thalia hadn't tripped over something in so long, thanks to the blessing of Artemis. She scowled, and pushed herself up, walking back to where she had tripped. What she saw, terrified her beyond reason. A hand - feminine, by the look of it - was jutting out of the snow at an irregular angle.

Thalia dropped to the floor, and reached out with caution. To her immense surprise, she realised that the hand was covered in ice. Moving with haste, Thalia quickly began to brush away the snow, revealing a body attached to the hand. Soon, she had the body of a teenage girl, covered in ice, laid before her. And to her horror, Thalia realised that she recognised that face. It was Phoebe. Her fellow hunter. Her fellow sister.

Suddenly, she was surrounded by dozens of bodies. All frozen to perfection, wearing the most mortified expressions. Each and every one of them were her sisters. Her family. Her loved ones. But she couldn't help but scramble back in fear. This place she stood in, it was a graveyard, a mausoleum. Thalia couldn't take it any more. She leaped to her feet, and ran. She didn't care where. As long as it was away from that place of death. Their faces were forever burned into her mind. Cold, lifeless. Their eyes were accusing, as if they were blaming her for it all, as if she was the one that had caused this.

But she didn't run for long. Before she knew it, she found herself in a very familiar place. Camp Half-Blood. She walked among the frozen rubble of the cabins, too shocked to do anything else. On a sudden whim, she jogged over to where the hearth used to be. What she found instead, was a haystack of bloody, mangled, frozen bodies. The now dull orange camp shirts hard to miss. A wave of nausea hit her as she forced herself not to vomit.

And she recognised these people as well. Annabeth, however, was the one that stood out the most. Her body was perfectly preserved by the ice. Her features, all too clear. Those beautiful golden curls, were now just a mess of dull yellow icicles, half of which had already fallen to the floor. And those intimidating grey eyes that pierced your soul and analysed every single detail. They were now just white, glassy orbs. Oh gods, it was sweet Annie. She was dead, she was so dead.

Thalia refused to believe it. She backed away, shaking her head as tears filled her eyes. She couldn't bear to see it. And so she spun around, sprinting once more into the unknown. But again, she didn't run far. This time, she spotted the shadow. It was like it had appeared out of nowhere. The only visible thing in all this blue fog. And Thalia had to run to it. But she wished she hadn't.

As she approached the mysterious object, she realised, that it was a chariot. And by the fading golden glow around it, Thalia guessed that it was the sun chariot. And then she saw, that there was a person inside the chariot. A person with messy, raven locks.

Thalia knew that hair. She would recognise it anywhere. But she refused to believe that it was him. It couldn't be him. It just wasn't possible. And as she told herself this, she neared the chariot, collapsing to the floor when she saw who it was. It seemed as though he was still alive. Sure, his skin was unnaturally pale, and his lips were a shocking blue. But at least he wasn't completely frozen over.

"Thalia..." he breathed; his eyes fluttering open. Those deep green eyes stared right through her.

She would have thought that he was asleep, if she hadn't known any better.

"Thalia..."

"No." She held back a sob as she gently grabbed his hand. It was as cold as ice, and all the veins were clearly visible.

"I-I'm sorry," he whispered. His eyes were filled with pain. Sorrow. Guilt. Thalia couldn't look at him.

"NO!" The tears streamed down in an endless waterfall.

"I-I'm sorry Thalia. I-I failed." He couldn't stop his own tears from falling.

Thalia could only nod. She could no longer feel anything. So they had failed. And now they were paying the price.

So she sat there. Holding his hand as he slowly died. Unable to watch him suffer, but unable to ease his pain. But she couldn't leave him. After all, they were the only ones left. Left in the cold wasteland while everything froze, and the blue moon mocked them. Left in the place with no hope, no love. They were lost in the eternal night, that dark cold abyss.

A sorrowful wail filled the tent in the Hunters' camp. A girl sat in the bed. Her hands clenching the sweat-stained sheets as sobs racked her body. She couldn't get that dream out of her head. And that girl spent a long time trying to.

Alex POV:

It was a dimly lit room, the only source of light being the fluorescent lamp standing next to him. He was hunched over a table, with priceless scrolls being littered all over the table. The figurine was in the centre, being held in place by a microscope. It wasn't of mortal origins, he saw it the moment he touched it.

As the founder of the dig they had allowed him to be the first one to study it. But the more he studied this figurine, the more questions arose. There was a nagging feeling in the back of his mind as he continued to study it, a question rose to the forefront of his mind. What was a Ancient Greek figurine doing under Capitol Hill? The centre of Rome.

He knew the story well, after all his mother told him personally. During the establishment of the Roman Republic Rome had decided to start 'downsizing'. Ousting the gods they had gotten from the Greeks and made their duties and domains to associate to other gods. Selene and Helios were the first to fade, Minerva came close soon after. He laughed, he was supposed to feel bitter for that, but he honestly didn't feel anything.

But his mind was now focused on the inscription written on the bottom of the figurine. It stumped him, though it pained him to admit that. It was written in a dialect of Greek that he'd never seen before, and therefore he couldn't translate it.

He poured over the numerous Greek scrolls in had access to, courtesy of the dig's sponsors. As he reread the scrolls again he threw a hand up into the air and plopped down onto a chair. There was nothing in the scrolls, he needed to find out what kind of Greek this was. With an reluctant sigh he picked up his phone and rang the one person that could help him.

The other end began with a click, "Hello Alex".

"Mother." He paused, he hadn't actually spoken to her in so long, not since that cursed mark.

"...What is it you want?" Alex scoffed, she already read his mind the moment the conversation started.

But he'll participate in the game, just for the sake of doing it, "I need your help... I've found it," he finished wearily.

There was a long pause at the other end of the line, "I see".

Alex felt the anger bubbling up inside but forced it down. Typical of his mother, a master manipulator. "There's a inscription etched at the bottom of the figurine. I can't read it, and I cannot pinpoint the dialect." Those words left a bitter taste in his mouth, admitting defeat was never easy.

"And have you attempted to isolate the isogloss"?

An exasperated sigh escaped his lips, "Yes I have mother. I don't believe this is a type of Hellenic".

"I will be there shortly Alexander".

But there was something on Alex's mind, something he needed to ask, "And after this will you tell me the truth. The truth about the Mist"?

There was a curt reply, "I do not believe in simply giving my children the answers. You must seek and discover the truth yourself Alexander. I will be there shortly." But just before she was about to end the call there was a sudden change, her tone softened, "But I can tell you that the figurine is first step in your journey".

Alex stood there, the phone clenched in his hands. A million thoughts were running through his head, all jumbled up together. His thoughts were like starlight, speeding through the vast expanse of his mind. Some time passed, one minute, two minute. A flash of light signalled the arrival of Athena, breaking Alex out of his stupor.

And she was right, the figurine did reveal a huge clue on where he needed to go next. He needed to find the heirs of Selene and Helios, Percy Jackson and Thalia Grace.

So many questions, so little space to answer them. What the hell is going on in the first paragraph? Why the hell is this so dark and weird? All will be answered later!.

Inspire: Hope you guys like Alex. He's a character of my creation. I picture him to look like Colin Morgan, except with grey eyes.

DOE: Read and Review Please! XOXO

So see ya next time. And remember to review~ Or I might have to kidnap you too~ *Giggle*