A/N: Thank you for the reviews everyone!

Mr.P3pp3r: We're not dead! It's a Slaaneshmas miracle!

Lance: A what?

Mr.P3pp3r: You wound me. Truly, you do. How could you... you know what? Bah! Bah, I say!

Ruby: Uh, where am I?

Mr.P3pp3r: Oh! That's right. New guest to help introduce! Get the fanfare ready!

Lance: She's already here.

Ruby: Uh, yes?

Mr.P3pp3r: ... ON WITH THE SHOW!

A/N(reupload): I honestly have no idea why the chapter showed up as... that but hopefully this works.

"So," John began, plopping himself down on the bench. "Mind telling me a bit more about your abilities and what they can do?"

I bit down on the cheap cereal before me. Following the events of last night, I had managed to persuade everyone else into waiting for an explanation until the next morning. My excuse was that Lance's abilities made him extremely tired after use and that he'd crash before long. So I had a whole night to try and come up with a sort of explanation and background about our… 'abilities.'

Not only that, but after everyone had actually calmed down and Adam had explained himself for kidnapping my brother (under vague death threats from myself. Honestly though, I would have been more worried about Adam and his two friends than Lance) I had stayed awake the entire night trying to figure out Lance's new abilities. Him spitting out a bullet after being blasted in the brain was pretty damn cool, but even by demigod standards that wasn't even remotely normal.

Speaking of which, my thoughts worked into treacherous territory; something extremely unsettling about Lance. Like… he just… came back. He was dead for a second, and then alive in the next. That wasn't a thing, not even here. There was no escape from death, it was just something so well known in the mythological world, by basically everyone. There was one myth about a guy who incapacitated Thanatos for a few days and cheated death for a while, but that story was an actual myth, and the moral was that you couldn't just revive anyone anyways. I had never really thought about Lance's resurrection in a negative light, taking everything in as if it was a blessing from the gods.

Problem was, there were no gods. If there were any, they'd have shown up (in the case of "bad" gods, they would have simply disguised themselves) a while ago to make Lance and I spread their name to get more power. We discussed that one a while ago.

So what was it?

A feeling in my heart told me that these thoughts would be better kept to myself. And as always, I did what my heart told me.

I would be keeping an eye on Lance. Adam, despite practicing Judaism, a religion the Olympians wanted off of the face of the earth, was a reasonable guy. All that exorcism stuff? Perhaps he was onto something…

Lance

"Sheesh, that Adam guy and his group of nutters are stupid." Typhon rambled into my eardrums.

Nutter? What does the hell does that mean?

"And here I thought you would've caught on to some human culture. Look at me, father of monsters, knowing more about humans than a demigod."

Alright, Typhon, just tell me what it means. No need to brag.

"You suck."

I sighed and brushed some dust off my shirt, hacking the last piece of lumber into firewood proportions. Filling in for Dylan's (a survivor who tagged along during his camping trip) early morning shift was quite a hassle, but the guy promised me a bottle of honey if I kept this up for a month, so I couldn't refuse.

Yeah, honey. I wanted to try some of the stuff, and I heard it was good medicine too. We couldn't just take all the beehives in our area because the bee population would all die out, so our only option was to harvest occasionsionally and wait for the population to grow up. There was also the problem of missing a beemason in our group.

For some reason I couldn't quite discern, I was feeling a lot more uptight and irritable this morning. Maybe it was because of the dry, cold late autumn air, but I just felt like venting somewhere, and punching or sparring Percy wasn't going to cut it. I wanted to destroy something.

I shook my head. I'm… you're better than that. What would Brother do if he found you randomly destroying things?

"Maybe he'd pat you on the back, tell you 'Good job!' or something along those lines. That was my general impression of him when I first met him." Typhon offered.

Wait… you met Percy before?

"Yep!"

I noticed Bran give me a weird look, probably wondering why I looked like I was talking to myself. You think he's a threat, Typhon?

"Probably not. I know he trusts you and your brother for all those times you saved their asses. And if he did betray you, I don't think you would have it in you to kill one of your friends, so..." Typhon explained.

When was Bran my friend?

When was anyone my friend?

The only other kid around here was… I sneaked a look at the fourteen-year-old Damian sitting a few benches to my left. Percy had tried to get us closer, but I was passive about social interaction, as usual, and the other guy wasn't much of a talker anyways. He just felt… innocent, you know? Didn't have the right mood about. Like that mortal saying: opposites don't attract.

I guessed that being quiet and innocent would mean being a good listener, but that wasn't Damian. Damian was… the things he saw must have gotten to him. Even without any experience with mortals, I could tell that something was off. I told Percy about it once but he only gave me a pitying look…

I… I...

On the subject of social interaction, I honestly thought it would have been fun… I was quite excited to talk to these other kids. I envisioned a teen novel… love triangles, friends and misadventures. Fortunately, or unfortunately, there were none to be found. I was slowly becoming more disappointed with the reality of it, but I didn't let that

What I got was the same old bunch of adults who really needed to lighten up. Sure, John, Bran and a few others were friendly, but it just didn't click for me. Percy was kind of my only friend.

"Hey, we don't get to always choose. You grew up with a group of warriors you aspired to be but couldn't because they didn't accept you. I'm the father of a couple thousand mentally challenged monsters."

"The Myrmidons weren't that bad…" I rubbed the back of my head.

"No need to deny it. Nothing's perfect in this world, you know. Help these people. Rebuild humanity. And one day you'll have what you wished for. For a human friend… someone who can lend an ear and do the same for you. It's a humble wish."

For a brief moment in my mind, I pondered why the evil incarnate, the father of monsters, Typhon would be saying such things. I ignored such thoughts and smiled.

"Kid?"

Yeah?

"Call me Ty. Typhon's a little dramatic for a name, don't you think?"

Well… if you insist…

"Right, well, we've been sappy long enough. I say we go out and practice your new powers some more."

That actually sounded like the best thing right now. I stood up, stretching out the stillness in my muscles, and made for the gate. About halfway there, I was stopped by Gwen, who appeared to have been chatting with some guards who had come off duty.

"Lance." she greeted. The way she said it had me imagining a blizzard blowing, because that's how cold her greeting felt. Guess she was still kind of sore over Percy and I keeping ourselves a big secret. Hey, you can't blame us, though. In any type of ability training, the first lesson was to always never use them in the presence of humans. That kind of training doesn't exactly go away. Besides, even before they found out (more than when they found out about Kronos' scythe) we were doing just fine. We killed monsters, did our [self assigned] work, and helped irrigate the crops, let people think that the small miracles were actually miracles and not Percy and I secretly using our powers to make things easier.

"Uh… hi?" I offered. Her glare reminded me of Athena's shield, only without the snakes for hair. I wanted to leave, nevermind train anymore. I felt like I was under a magnifying glass from the way she stared.

After a long, long, long awkward silence, Gwen finally asked,

"Going somewhere?" I saw no reason to tell her the full truth when Percy's explanation wasn't even the full truth.

"Hey, tell her you're going out to bathe. You do need a bath."

Wait, how can you smell anything if you're in my head?

"Magic," was his reply. I had wanted to argue, but going deeper into the implications of sharing senses brought about the beginnings of what felt like a migraine. Is this how Gwen felt when she found out about magic?

"I'm going to bathe." I repeated Typhon's excuse.

Gwen raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. "We have a shower setup."

I pouted.

Gwen sighed, figure falling apart into a bundle of twitching and overworked nerves. "Fine. At least go with someone. We won't have you getting into trouble around here."

"I can take care of myself!" I declared.

Gwen rubbed her eyes. "Percy is going to kill me…"

"Is that a yes?" I grinned.

"Get out."

Percy

While I was occupied spying on Lance's odd behaviour, I noticed something else entirely in the survivors. I would often feel the urge to turn around from my work, like there were eyes on my back. When I turned around, I caught glimpses of people quickly turning away, as if they were staring at me. Eventually, I caught some survivors who weren't so subtle about their staring, and looked straight at me. Getting sort of creeped out, I moved away from our little camp. Flashbacks of my first quest began to pop into my head. I kept getting the feeling that at any moment, something would strike from the shadows.

Forcing these feelings down, I focused back on my task at hand. Lance was leaving through the front gate. He waved to the guards as he passed by, earning nods from both of them, and began to jog off. Keeping myself as composed as possible, I waited two minutes before following out, concentrating my abilities on him. The guards nodded at me as I walked past the gate. Once I was far enough away, I broke into a full-on sprint after Lance. Say what you want about the kid, but he could move with only a two minute head start.

I was about one of the only people here trusted to venture far out alone, despite the protests from my fellow leaders. In some ways, I was glad that Gwen trusted Lance enough to let him out alone, but… if I thought about the group, I couldn't help but get worried. If enemies appeared, Lance would be the one to try and take them on alone. That left no one to try and relay the situation to base. If he went with someone else, there would be at least a warning that Lance was in trouble.

But… I think I need to trust him. Lance needs to feel that he's not just a kid. That would be disrespectful to what he went through.

I caught up with my, dare I say it, estranged brother soon enough, and I'm pretty sure that we weren't near anything what the scouts were mapping out. The trees here looked different. The bark was darker and the leaves were… thicker. I felt the urge to look over every corner and turn for some signs of Lance's activity, memories of my time in capture the flag at camp keeping me in a nostalgic haze.

I stalked the woods, keeping my powers focused on Lance and keeping a large distance between us. This was an unfamiliar place, and I wasn't exactly too keen on spending my time out here, nevermind having Lance spend time out here. Why would he go out of his way to come here? What does he have to hide from us?

I felt him come to a stop. He stood there, waiting. I tensed. The only thing he could be waiting for was...

FYOOM! I heard a sharp blast of energy, breaking my concentration. I sprinted as quietly as possible through the forest, towards Lance, having lost track of him. I bent low on my knees and began to creep towards the source of the sound. Along with the occasional blast of magic, I also heard growls, barks, and the occasional grunt. The grunt sounded like it belonged to Lance. The other sounds, I guessed, came from mutants.

They were strange, though. Those noises of death sounded more… obedient… even accepting somehow.

I found Lance soon enough, the guy had apparently made himself a small clearing in the middle of these woods. Trees were strewn about everywhere, each charred black at where he focused his magic. I'm pretty sure his bolt wasn't this strong the last time we sparred, which reminds me, I need to get into the habit of that again.

Dueling with the survivors, to be honest, just wasn't that fun. They never had much training to begin with, so I had to try really hard to hold back. One important aspect of being a teacher was to raise his students' morale. I taught kids who grew at an accelerated rate due to divine heritage and possessed superhuman (if only slightly) physical abilities, so I couldn't be nearly as harsh on them as I would like to.

The fading ashes of black masses told me that a skirmish happened here, and recently too, all supported with a hunched over Lance begging for breath.

Was this it? Was I really that paranoid of my own brother? I couldn't help but think that maybe he just wanted to get better on his own without my help. If he really was, I thought, he better be improving in our spars, else he'd be grounded. It wasn't that unusual for skills to actually degrade if you practice by yourself.

Lance had caught his breath just before another monster showed up, a wolf mutant. I expected Lance to outright blast it, but he didn't. Instead, he made a neutral expression and walked towards it.

It didn't attack him.

By now I probably sounded like a broken record but I'll say it again: this wasn't normal by any means. Not demigod, not god, and certainly not monster. But here was this wolf, easily three feet taller than myself, was standing in front of Lance. Lance stood right in front of the thing, having a staring contest with it. Every instinct inside me screamed at me to act. Problem was, I didn't know what to do. Do I attack the monster and demand an explanation from Lance? Do I ask Lance if he has been directing monster attacks all this time? I didn't know what to do. I'm not even sure Annie would know what to do in this situation.

My body began to feel cold as I watched Lance begin to pet the thing. Pet. it. It leaned in and acted like a regular dog for a moment, and I just couldn't stomach this. I had to do something and seeing Lance act like this wasn't exactly giving me a choice. Kronos was in my hands in a moment, becoming a khopesh, as I stepped out into the clearing.

"Lance!" I shouted.

That's when things really went to shit.

Lance jumped and doubled back, nearly tripping over his own feet.

"Percy?" I heard him call out in confusion. The monster lost all calm and growled, first at Lance, then at me. I thought it would go for the easy kill, but instead this thing came barreling at me. I barely had time to raise Kronos to block the monster. I did everything I could to keep myself from becoming this thing's chew toy. I don't know if it was something Lance did or if this monster was different than the others, but it was stronger than the other monsters I was used to.

I quickly forgot my initial surprise and remembered my close clashes with hell hounds, who were stronger, faster, and smarter in every way compared to this thing. With renewed vigour, I dug my feet into the ground to keep myself from falling, but gods be damned if this thing wasn't pumped up on monster steroids. The earth beneath my feet gave way and I was slowly pushed back. The monster gave up on trying to bite me and instead locked Kronos in its mouth. It then used all four limbs to dig into the ground and push against me. Bastard was clever, but I had experience with clever monsters.

I twisted the blade to the side, trying to direct its strength away from me, but that just made it push me with its head sideways. That usually worked in my case, so this was a new one.

A thought crossed my mind, and before I knew it, Kronos was once again back in its scythe form. With the monster's head still sideways, I used all my power and grabbed hold of one side of Kronos, and pulled. The scythe blade raced for the monster's face and my work was rewarded with a piercing howl that made my bones rattle. I watched as the monster began to evaporate, the top part of its skull going quicker than its body.

With that out of the way, I turned to Lance. He was horrified, probably because I was more pissed than anyone could imagine. I felt betrayed. I suspected Lance to keep secrets, but I expected him to have maybe taken an extra can of food, or practice his skills on his own, not make friends with monsters.

Kronos went back to its dormant form. Just as I was about to say something, three things happened at once. First, I felt something hard hit me in the back. Like, full-on knocked me off my feet and ripped the wind from my lungs.

Second, PAIN. There were no words to describe the amount of pain I felt at that moment, but the closest I could tell it would be like a knife blade, dipped in salt, heated to temperatures that put Hephaestus' forges to shame, had swiped across my back, three times at once. It wasn't as close as Misery, but it still hurt like a bitch.

"NO!" I heard Lance shout.

Before he started blasting something behind me with magic blast after magic blast. I had seen him angry before, but this was something else. It reminded me of myself when Annie had taken a knife wound for me when we fought Kronos for Olympus.

I couldn't see what he was hitting, my body didn't want to respond, but I could see shadows dancing on the trees. Whatever he was fighting, it wasn't winning.

The world began to turn, I began to feel dizzy, and it felt like someone was trickling water down my back. "Percy!" I heard Lance's voice echo in my ears. He sounded distant. Was… was I dying? Was I really going to die, like this?

Lance said some other words, but I couldn't hear him. It was like he was speaking through water, as ironic as that sounds coming from me.

Gods, I was going to die, wasn't I? Well…. Damn. This sucks. Don't get me wrong, I was afraid of dying, just like everyone else. I didn't want to go, but at the very least, I thought I would go out fighting, not in a surprise attack in the middle of nowhere. As I felt exhaustion overcome me, my one happy thought in all this was that I would finally see Annie again, for better or worse.

The light show ended. My vision was going dark around the edges, but I could just make out Lance rushing over to me. If he pulls me out of this one… well… I don't know if I should congratulate him or punch him in the face for both hiding his power and taking away my chance to see Annabeth.

Well, I'd find out soon enough which would come first.

Lance

Nothing could have prepared me for the torrent of emotions so powerful, so overwhelming I would've drowned in them had Typhon not surfaced and anchored me to the world. My mind became like an automaton as I worked, listening to Typhon's instructions on how to heal Percy's wounds, but everything becoming hollow and meaningless. My world was spiraling out of control, and I could barely hold on long enough to fix it.

"Right, so now hold your hands out and… OI! ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING!?" Typhon shouted.

Even though I would have a headache later, I appreciated Typhon's screaming because it yanked me back into the real world long enough to focus on the task at hand. Sorry, Typhon.

"Don't apologize to me, just get ready."

Ready for w-

So. Much. Energy. It was like opening up an overfilled dam and directing every ounce towards one small point. The runes that appeared in my hands were so much larger than any I could have mustered in my lifetime. My training with healing was limited to the basics of mending, but even with only that level of training, this amount of magic would easily seal Percy's wounds… I hope.

"Alright then, focus on what you learned in healing, and put everything you've got into those claw marks." Typhon instructed. Later on, I would wonder if the deep gouges in Percy's back could be called claw marks and not small trenches, but that's for later.

I did as he instructed and hovered the runes to just above the wounds. The amount of magic Typhon lent me proved to be more than enough. The wounds healed, albeit slowly. I watched as muscle and flesh melded back together. It was sickening at first, but when I saw that not even scars would remain I shoved through the minor nausea.

A few minutes of grueling work and finally my brother was healed. His breathing was normal, but he was still pale from blood loss. Not even I knew how to mitigate that, even with healing magic. Typhon didn't have a smart remark either, which meant either he was keeping silent for now, or I was about to pass out. I'll spare you the smart remark and just move on to say I awoke some time later. Some hours had passed, as the sun was already halfway into its descent.

Shit.

Getting Percy to safety was a thing, but the camp full of survivors waiting for us at the bonfire was a whole other bag of potatoes. We were going to tell our half-assed story today…

"You carrying him would take too long and get the settlement suspicious. We'll need to go for a quicker approach."

Typhon the whistled mentally, and not a minute later, a mutant wolf brushed through the bushes. It looked down at Percy for a moment, before cautiously reaching down to grab him with its long and furry arms. I tensed and gulped.

Is the mutant going to… Carry him?

"You got it. Now, let's get the hell back to base before anyone gets suspicious."

Seeing no other options, and believe me I tried, I followed the wolf. Typhon, despite his rather blasé attitude, did create a decent plan. We were making good time back to the settlement.

As I followed the beast, a thought struck me.

Typhon?

"Yes?"

You are the father of these monsters, right?

"Yes."

And they follow your every command, right?

"Sometimes..."

Sometimes?

"While I maybe the 'father' of these monsters, I have very little control over them. My power is being limited by your current strength. I can control a few at a time, or more depending on the circumstances, but for the most part it's a parlor trick. They are kids, after all. Your brother didn't follow his dad's every will either."

Well, I could at least confirm Typhon wasn't secretly leading the monsters against us, but that wasn't what I was looking for.

That may be, but… you can still control, at the very least, one monster easily, right?

"You know, you suck at subtlety. Yes, I can control monsters, but when you freaked out and lost your concentration, I lost mine. My control over the beast shattered when your idiot brother decided to sneak in unannounced."

Typhon mentioning my brother made me pale as I raced after the beast currently carrying him. Not only was I still worried about his health, gods know I'm not going to be sleeping soundly any time soon, but also because the moment he has enough strength he'll probably literally beat me into a grave.

That thought alone made me nearly cry.

"Quit your bitchin'. We're here."

Wait, seriously?

"You having mental talks with yourself and me makes time fly. Not to mention you've been running for a good while. I guess your brother's attempts to pummel you were good for something, after all."

It was training. From a hero of Olympus, no less.

"Right, right. And I'm just a figment of your imagination. Here's good."

The beast stopped a few feet from the tree line. I stopped with it, not taking my eyes off.

"What are you waiting for? Get back! You can't enter in the same direction! I'll have the wolf sneak him in."

I paused. I didn't know why, but I had the sudden urge to doubt Typhon's words. What if, the thought creeped in my head, that he was tricking me? Was he going to let Percy… die? The fear spread, and I was frozen in thought.

Typhon was silent.

Against every part of good will, I grudgingly broke free of my instincts and nodded silently. The beast grumbled- or rather, growled to the unaware traveller, and broke into a soft step of lunges, barely stirring the grass. For a thing of that size, the way it moved so quietly was frightening. I watched the mutant crawl further and further away, until it disappeared from my sight for a good ten seconds.

Typhon was silent.

I shivered, chills caressing my cheek, and jogged back to the settlement.

Percy

I stirred from the crook of the tree, my eyes cloudy from the tiredness… Deja vu. I felt my dirty palm rub the sweat from my forehead automatically, and I repressed a groan. Standing up felt like a burden. There was this… fog I could visualize in my mind. Was this a pure form of the mist of Hecate?

What happened? One moment, I was… talking to some survivors… and... I fell asleep from all the work? That was unlikely of me. To me, none of the heavy duty work around here was worth a sweat, ever since that trip to dad's realm. It felt like I had gotten some kind of physical upgrade. But why didn't I get this before, when I was twelve?

Maybe it's just part of maturing as a demigod? Will did always emphasize that demigods were different in biology compared to pure humans. I'd listened to a few of his explanations when I visited people in the infirmary. I had fallen asleep through most of them about halfway through, each time, but Annie always gave me the gist of it afterwards.

If it wasn't exhaustion, then what was it?

The more I tried to search for memories, the more I kept drawing a blank. I-

Ok, Percy, calm down. It's probably nothing. What could possibly be wrong?

The world has been destroyed, my mind retorted sassily.

Ok, yeah, but everything else fine. The survivors, John, Lance, and the demigods… Thinking about them made me grit my teeth in frustration. I really hadn't spent much time looking for them, had I? I mean, before, I would occasionally travel East, but they weren't my goal. So what was wrong? Was I afraid of what I might find?

Were they even alive?

The mutants had no pattern of attack, I noted. Their swipes and lunges often lacked coordination and it was as if every one of them was trying to trip over each other for kills. However, that didn't mean they were any less dangerous. That hellhound… abomination was truly something with speed out of the books, and I shuddered whenever my mind replayed the moment of shock I felt when it broke the speed of sound and disappeared from my vision completely. I won that fight with instinct and luck and the fact that mortal guns could now harm them.

I couldn't just hope for the survival of these survivors now. I made my decision to protect these people, these survivors so that they could make sure humanity had a next generation. I know you're probably thinking about how this is some honourable goal, but thinking about it made me sick; I had abandoned my pantheon, my species just to help these people… was it really worth it?

Oh, come on, don't kid yourself, I scoffed. Leave the philosophical questions to Annie. Now was the time to tell a story to the settlers.

Approaching the bonfire with renewed glee, I strolled over to a bench by the fire and picked up a stray stick, drying it with my powers and chucking it into the fire. Mika whirled around, surprise evident on his face. The… Christian guy (I think) gave me a nervous look and went pack to poking the flames, but I could tell that something was bothering him.

I still remembered when they found out about Lance. That part wasn't fogged, it was clear as day. Which reminds me…

"Mika," I began. The kid nearly jumped out of his skin at the mention of his name.

"Uh-uh… w-what-is-it?" he stammered out, his words coming out less like a question, but more of a terrified man begging for his life.

Did he think I was going to kill him? Probably, judging by the look on his face.

"About the ritual you were performing-" Mika began to shiver like a leaf in the wind and I'm pretty damn certain he was about to cry. Oh my gods he thought I was going to murder him.

"Oi, stop. I just want to know what you guys were doing specifically." No point in letting them know. That would just empower them to do it again and I don't think Lance would be too keen on having a repeat of Late Night Voodoo.

At least Mika stopped threatening to cry. He did still shake, though.

"We uh… we were performing an exorcism."

Huh.

"And this exorcism… did it happen to do anything?"

Mika shook his head.

"N-no. All we did was just annoy him. Adam said that his exorcism was incomplete without others to join in on his prayers, and I've never done a Jewish exorcism before. I didn't have the required outfit either, just a three dollar necklace my parents bought for me from a supermarket. And I doubt it would even work even if I was dressed appropriately. I'm not exactly Jewish."

So Adam's little thing failed because he didn't have the right people or resources. "What exactly does this type of exorcism need?"

"Well, from what Adam says, we were just trying to make due with what we had. We needed a Rabbi, and also a group of at least ten people. N-now, I doubt there are ten Jews left in the world at all, so, uh, we tried to introduce aspects from other exorcisms to make up for that."

"What kind?"

Mika was getting more into the story. "We stitched together some latin and hebrew prayers. We had no clue how to make holy water either, so Adam made some incenses and oils instead. That's pretty much it."

I nodded. "I see. A creative approach, though I can't exactly approve of how you applied this to a ritual. They tend to go very wrong if you do that. There's a reason all rituals have such specific instructions, don't you think?"

Mika blinked in surprise. "Are you… speaking from experience?"

"No, but I had a friend who was very practiced in her arts."

I'd more expected him to freak at the implication of a witch, but Mika held his cool. In fact, he appeared even more relaxed now. I guess he felt I wasn't going to kill him outright. Though that was still a possibility, I would give him the benefit of the doubt.

For now.

"So… you would know how to exorcise whatever's in Lance?" he asked. Honestly, I wasn't sure. I had shit luck with magic outside water control, and my memory was about as great as Rick made it out to be in the books (that bit about me remembering Annie even with memory loss was all real, though). However, I did have plenty of memories of Annie teaching me, and I do remember what she said more than what even Chiron said.

"Maybe." I told him. I wasn't going to lie in this case. There was something about Lance that just sent off alarms in my head, and if he was in fact possessed I did not want to be caught off guard.

Mika didn't look too happy about that but oh well. That was the best I could offer.

"Fine, we'll-"

"RUN! FUCKING RUN!"

BOOM!

An explosion obliterated the front gate, sending shrapnel everywhere. Even I didn't have enough time to react, and a piece of obliterated concrete slammed into my chest, knocking me over into a roll.

My ears were ringing and dust had blocked my vision to only about seven feet or so. I really couldn't tell the exact measurement with both the high-pitched screaming whine in my ears and the dizziness that made me feel like I stepped off a nine hour marathon on a Vomit-Comet. Good thing I didn't have anything really in my stomach, otherwise that would have been a good deal of food wasted.

Through the swirling vision I could just barely make out forms moving in the smoke. I almost couldn't hear anything due to all the damn whining, but I could see that they moved in a coordinated fashion… a sense of dread began building within me. Come on, seaweed brain. Get up already! I could already hear my mental Annie edging me forward.

Despite my better judgement, I stopped my urge to check on the others and shook my head a little to get my vision back. I brushed my shirt with one hand, fully expecting to find some kind of injury. To my great relief, it appeared that rubble had been shattered upon impact, leaving only faint scratches along my body and my shirt torn to pieces.

Mikah. I looked around frantically for the survivor, and after a second, released a long breath and smirked. He was fortunate enough to roll away from the flying debris, and was now wiping his face of all the dirt and dust that had gotten onto his face. He would be fine.

Aside from that, though, my hearing wasn't exactly getting better. That high pitched ringing wasn't going away. Despite that, I could hear something that sounded like thumping. It wasn't my heartbeat. This was something else.

Each time I heard a thump sound, I could swear I saw something flash in the dust. I began feeling dizzy, and suddenly… everything was a blur of lights. Was it always like this? I couldn't tell. The organ that was my brain lapsed, trying to rationalize this as some kind of prank by Leo… until I remembered that he was dead. Or was he? Was this a dream? Was this real?

It got worse, to the point that I could hardly understand what I was doing here in the first place.

Images; flashes of bright explosions, sending warriors- no, children, into a mangled mess. I wanted to just lie down, but the nausea didn't let me. The shuffling sounds, which vaguely reminded me of marching were getting closer. And with them, the figures in the dust became clearer. They looked human enough for my brain to recognize not monsters. I felt one of them move off as the others disappeared into the mist.

Something wet splashed onto my face. I felt a dull sensation in my chest, like a pebble had hit me.

I was slowly coming to. I rubbed my face to try and wipe away whatever crap had hit me, and when I pulled my hand away, I saw red. No, I'm not talking about metaphorically, I mean literally. There was red, mucky liquid with a hint of copper all over me. I hurriedly wiped the substance off of me.

"Mikah… Mikah…" I called out, looking over to where he was. And there he was, but this time, lying face down, a pool of red gathering underneath him.

Suddenly something rolled me over. My body didn't like that and began to ache all over. Only this time I felt as if I might have broken something, or pulled an organ. What I saw was something I could not make out for the life of me. It was yellow, nearly all over. Yellow body, yellow hands, even yellow legs. Next was where its face would have been. There was some sort of… silver thing. Kind of like a mirror but smaller, curving away from me, and was looking down at me. It pointed something black at me, something I could recognize even in my shocked state. Gun.

It took aim, and I couldn't do a damn thing about it. My powers weren't responding, and I sure as shit wasn't in any shape to fight. So I closed my eyes, and waited to see Annie again.

When I was sure I would get shot, something wet once again hit me. I jumped, thinking it was the red stuff (blood, I remembered), but… I didn't feel anything. No additional pain anyway. Believing this to be some sort of trick, I pried open one eye. No bullet holes, fortunately.

I then looked to the yellow thing, and saw something sharp sticking out of its chest. It must have been as confused as I was, because it was looking at the same thing, and all of a sudden the gun dropped to its feet.

It lurched, and then it was pushed down. Blood began to pool around it as it went into its death throes. Looking back to where it stood, I saw John, standing there with a sizeable combat knife. He looked shaken, like he couldn't believe what he just did. To be honest, neither could I. John was… John. The worst thing I expected him to do was bump into someone inconveniently and apologize for hours for it, but here he was, like a semi-badass.

He dropped the knife, and helped me to my feet. I'm sure he was talking, telling me what was going on, or at least asking about what was going on, but I couldn't hear him. Even if I could, I wasn't paying attention to him. I was looking at Mikah.

He was still laying down, not moving. He wasn't asleep. Remember that red stuff that hit me the first time? I'll give you three guesses as to where it came from. There was a hole in his chest the size of a grapefruit. Whatever hit him… I looked down at the yellow thing in front of me. Now I could recognize it as a human in a suit. A hazmat suit.

We were under attack, I finally realized.

It suddenly came to me that I had failed as a warrior; not acted fast enough or carried my own weight despite having more skill and strength than the survivors. I felt a blush rise to my cheeks, embarrassed. Looks like John really had it in him… He would prove to be a better warrior than me yet.

You had a vivid hallucination, Annie reminded me. It's not your fault.

But I begged to differ. These survivors were truly something else. I was Perseus Jackson, the hero, the second coming of Achilles, the savior of Olympus. But now? This was my initiation. I was now just "Percy", a member of the survivors, and I was glad to be a part of them.

I saw images of a tough band of the strong. I saw the glorious sunrise of mankind. I saw the warm yellow light that encompassed the survivors and me. No matter my destiny, I was going to lead the survivors into the next age.

It was time to hunt.

John

Well, how do I put this? One moment, we were at our lowest. Faced with an ambush perfectly timed- just at the moment when we would all gather by the bonfire, our morale had been shattered in the instant. Powers or not, we were all sure that the brothers wouldn't be able to dig us out of this one. We'd all felt a little awkward- even Gwen, that our luck had brought us to Percy and Lance. So, we wondered, would our saviors abandon us? Were they… dead?

No, I thought with a shake of my head. That wasn't possible. If Percy was dead, then so was the group. I felt that Lance could most likely could reach Percy's power, but that would be when he had access to training and emotional comfort from his brother. I needed to help them, however fruitless my efforts would be.

Now, I can't say what set him off, but he just got this dark… no, different look in his eyes. He said nothing as he went to grab the dead soldier- no, bandit's gun. There was only determination and an enlightened spirit behind those eyes. I saw him check the magazine, before turning to me. I felt my heart comforted, but my throat clenched up. What would he say?

"Get Lance and head south. Gather everyone hiding or running. They can easily pincer us with all this smoke around. When you're done, hide in the dead zone. Once I give you the signal — you'll know when you see it — that means I've made an opening and that you need to run."

The surprisingly professional Percy set out his orders- and at that moment, it mattered not if I was the chief of security. I entrusted my safety to him. No, he had placed his trust into us.

Without another word except a nod a man would give to his comrade before delving into the fold of combat once more, he ran off. The bursts of gunfire wrestled with the screaming of men as they were incinerated by his scythe. Was this the avatar of death himself, who had come to save us all?

Against all odds and imagination of the limits of scythe combat, the gunfire that rattled all around, signaling military prowess far beyond our own, in both quality and quantity, quieted down little by little. And dear gods, It was a mess. The dust wasn't helping either, so I couldn't tell if anyone was friend or foe.

I wasn't a fighter, unlike what others thought, and I was not as brave as Percy, Gwen, or Bran. I wasn't even as strong as Lance, and he was out there, probably fighting as fiercely as his brother. In fact, half of what I told them about myself was all lies. I was not a man who re-entered college to study history. I was not a man who had a shred of honesty both outside and inside. I had faked my way into university, cheating and lying just to scrape by. I was eventually caught, of course, when my unusually high scores came under investigation- leading to the discovery of my forgery. I'd cried myself to sleep every night during those years, reminded of all the disappointed gazes of my friends as I left the school.

But against all of that self-doubt, the trust Percy placed in me was absolute. I was not going to hide and cry in a house this time. Never again. Percy was truly a leader among all leaders, I realized. This was what I, no, all humans strived for. I was not worthy of this kindness...

Someone had suddenly leapt through the window above my head. I screamed, though I like to think I screamed like a man, no matter what Percy or Lance say. Speaking of Lance, he was looking at me with a confused expression. He had a pistol and that broken sword with him.

"Uh…" was all he said before the wall I was hiding behind suddenly became a magnet for gunfire. I cried out and rolled to the side, making myself as small a target as possible while staying in the corner.

Lance took cover by the door and began to fire back. "Sons of bitches! Come and get me!" He goaded them. I wanted to tell him that that didn't seem like a good idea to shout that at them, but the storm of bullets got my point across for me.

Lance fired back a couple of times before taking cover again. I held my ears and bit back a scream of terror. Trying my best to stay calm, reminding myself of the plan Percy had entrusted me. It didn't go that way. Every time we tried to move, a hail of gunfire responded us. We were effectively trapped, and if this continued the others could have all fallen. No, not like this, I thought, I can't fail Percy.

Minutes passed, and Lance had long since run out of ammunition and resorted to cursing at them as often as he could, and the gunfire still rattled on. Lance had made another insult before he turned to me.

"John!" he called over the staccato of gunfire. "Do you have anything I can use?" I shook my head. I was never the greatest marksman, and I sure as hell wasn't the best fighter. I mainly mitigated any small fights anyone might've had. I wanted to tell him Percy's plan, but I didn't want to disturb him from the fight.

On the other hand, I could see the anger in his eyes dissipating by the second. He now looked more tired than angry. Lance slid down the wall until he was sitting on the ground.

"Shit," he breathed. The gunfire had stopped now. I imagined they were getting ready to charge in and shoot us both until we were nothing but red paste. Sometimes I hated my imagination.

Shit! Was this it? Had that all been for nothing? I looked around hurriedly for any way to escape- but I had to commend the engineers for their building skills. Lance could probably break it down, but that was too big of a gamble. The distance between his cover and mine were simply too large.

With a deep breath, my hope died out. I wanted to cheer him up, to remind him that Percy went to fight these clowns and that he'd save us, but the words wouldn't come. My body was weak with terror and trembling, so I just that there and waited. And waited. And waited. And waited.

…

Minutes trickled by. Hours passed. When I came to my senses again, however, I didn't notice any change in the brightness outside. My head's getting to me…

Where were those bastards? Did they decide that we weren't worth the effort? That we had just wasted their time? Even Lance was getting antsy.

"The least they could do is make it quick," he growled. Don't get me wrong, if the people shooting at us left I would be all for it, but I wasn't going to risk to check and see if they were still there.

Lance finally had had enough, I guess. He shouted out to the dusty air.

"Are you going to make us wait all day or do we have to come out ourselves?"

No answer.

I began to truly hope they had left. Lance, apparently unleashed by this silence, decided to go outside. Into the area where bullets had been flying at us. From bad guys. I wanted to shout at him, tell him that we should leave while we could, but Lance was either as bold as Percy or as stupid. Maybe even a little more because of his 'gifts.'

"Hello?" he called out. Nothing. Fire fights still rattled off in the background, but nothing near us. In fact, I was pretty sure there were more people fighting outside than who we had left. Had another group come by? Oh please let them be friendly. We need some friendliness right about now.

Someone came walking from our right. Lance had his pistol at the ready. I was sure he was out of ammo, but it seemed he knew what he was doing… I hoped.

"Lance," Bran breathed. "Percy told me to get you so we could gather up everyone and get them to the dead zone. He also said he'd make a signal when he has a good opening for us to escape."

"That… I don't believe it," Lance hissed. "He really has to do this thing solo? And without giving you a weapon?"

I didn't know how to respond. In all honesty I didn't know who to expect to live or die. This madness just… spiraled so out of control so fast.

Lance chuckled. "Hey, if it's his plan, then it's probably going to work. Let's go. Stick close to the back of the houses, yeah?"

I nodded, and ran after him, making sure our footsteps were unheard. Bran followed after us, sticking behind me. I actually preferred it that way. If anyone came from the front and Lance was knocked out of the picture, at least I would have the chance to finally do something.

The dust began to settle, finally. I could see more and more figures out and around, shooting at each other. Some I could recognize as the same military group that came before. Their uniforms were the same and they fought in the same style. But the new group, they weren't anyone I knew. They weren't those cultist nuts, and they didn't have the same animal-likeness as bandits. If anything, they reminded me of the military, too, but they weren't as rigid in their fighting.

Well, I mean they were fantastic fighters, but they weren't conventional. Like, they taught themselves how to fight and used moves and styles from others. It was something Percy mentioned once when he would brainstorm new ways of training. I thought he was mad at the time, but I do have to give him credit. I guess it would work. Eventually.

Another thing I was surprised about was the lack of monsters going around. From what the scouts would say, these things were attracted to humans like ants to honey. And last time we had a huge group of the mutant wolves, bears, and boars make things even worse in the aftermath of the first attack.

Needless to say, seeing no monsters out there causing chaos for everyone was both soothing and worrying at the same time. Soothing because that meant it was just people out there, even if they were shooting at each other. Worrying because that wasn't like the monsters at all. I wanted to believe that the noise scared them off, but I just couldn't get rid of those thoughts.

Percy

It had been too long since I've had a fun fight. Even longer since I've had a proper one. That one time Lance and I attacked the base was just retaliation, and we had the upper hand due to our ambush anyways. But now… now I could really cut loose. It wasn't just fun, of course. There was work that needed to be done. Like saving the survivors, obviously. But who said you couldn't have some fun while working? I just hope John will be able to carry out my plan.

Rushing through the smoke, I ducked behind the remains of a house and slipped on my earth powers… really need a better name for that. Ok, how about Gaea? I think it'd be a pretty good reminder for the past that I carried or whatever.

Sensing the locations of several foreign figures, I flicked off Gaea, smirking, and leaped from cover, dashing towards a lone soldier. I made no effort to cloak the sound of my approach, and the man managed to raise his gun in my direction, but it was already too late. I relished in the look of panic on his face as I leaped onto him, sending the soldier yelling while he toppled to the ground and madly tapping the trigger, though I was far too close for that now. I crushed his throat with my bare hands, a satisfying 'crunch' emitting as it turned to a pile of gore against the earth.

The others obviously heard the sound of his struggles, and they probably thought he was dead, judging by how they sent a flurry of bullets in his direction.

But I was long gone by then.

Bursting a pipe to have the water lift me, I leaped high into the air and drew Kronos. The scythe blade clicked and whirred as it was unleashed from its polearm, weaving around the group of soldiers and cutting down the one furthest from me. I made effort to pull the blade back, the withdrawing chain knocking down a soldier in its path.

And that was when the fun began.

Switching the scythe to its khopesh form, I called out to it, suppressing its incineration effect. The soldier in front of me was too shocked to react as I made a slash that ran from his shoulder to his hip, killing him instantly. I gripped the man as he became my personal bullet sponge, extending Kronos to its scythe form again and simultaneously disarming the remaining two soldiers behind me. Their wails of pain as their arms were removed was music to my ears.

I set the man in my arms down with a 'plop'', and swiftly cut down the disarmed men.

I hissed. This wasn't enough progress!

Gripping the best-conditioned pistol I could see, I looted several pouches of ammo before rushing towards the gunfire again.

I could now easily tell where they were at all times… well, it's kind of easy when people are 70% water. As for my guys, I could track their general location because I knew they had fled into the Dead Zone, and mainly sticking together in big clusters. I needed to thank everyone for their good work…

Lance wasn't with them. I could tell where he was by sight as I turned around. The kid was running from cover to cover with John and Bran, gathering the leftover survivors. I sighed in relief.

I continued killing my way through whoever got in range, while at the same time scavenging any ammo matching in size with the one I had with me. I thanked the gods at that moment for such a convenient set of powers, though I wasn't sure if they could hear me. I settled with the pistol and Kronos in sickle form, as it was easily the most comfortable combination. The pistol would be enough to take care of any long-ranged targets while the sickle was light enough that it wouldn't impede my progress.

Pumping another soldier full of bullets, I let the magazine slip from the gun, loading another one in with Gaea, all in under two seconds. Though I would be blinded while it was active, Gaea was somewhat easy to toggle on and off, and I could also sense vibrations in the ground, metals, or anything earth-related. The only real disadvantage was the temporary loss of my hydrokinesis.

Looks like they were about done, I realized, checking on the survivors again.

Now was the time to make that opening.

With a crack of the earth, I pushed off from the ground using a miniature earthquake, moving towards the enemy artillery. There were several mortars, a tank, grenade launchers, not to mention the machine gunners that would be pinning us down.

I'm honored… it was the height of stupidity to organize such a large and expensive force in a world where resources were scarce. And only for a small gathering of survivors, at that. It was apparent they realized Lance and I were more than met the eye. They couldn't have been hoping to force a surrender, after all. You don't have the other side submit by marching into civilian territory with tanks and bombing them to kingdom come with mortars. That was a war crime.

I assessed the situation. While the machine gunners would be far more mobile, the couldn't react fast enough to break through me (Read: the Emu war). The mortars could kill the survivors in one swoop if they had the location to their hiding spots, but I took care of most of the soldiers who were trying to do that. However, I didn't know of any way to completely sabotage their communications, so they were still a top threat in my list of priorities.

The tank, however, would be the most dangerous. If that thing moved past me, there was nothing stopping it from killing or taking all of the survivors, since we didn't have any explosive surprises or anti-armor weapons. Well, ok, I think I was exaggerating a bit there. If I had a good hiding place, I could easily mess with its systems or incapacitate the drivers using the abilities I inherited from Poseidon.

But I had to do otherwise. I needed to put the fear of the gods in these bandits. To show them our strength. That's why I had to do this the hard (fun) way.

Looking over the looted pistol again, I checked its ammo. Using Gaea, I memorized roughly how much every bullet weighed in my hands so I could always make a good estimate of how much ammo was left in the magazine. This was a useful skill to have in the heat of battle that I should be teaching to the survivors some day. You should not have to spend time on a battlefield just to check on your ammo.

Dashing forward, Kronos was a shining blur as I cut through soldier after soldier after soldier, firing a few rounds at anyone just out of my reach. Reflexes took over and I found myself in a comforting haze. I've no idea how long I was -like that, but when I came back I was covered in blood and bodies lay behind me as a grizzly trail.

The tank was slow moving for me, despite its relatively high speed compared to running. For someone launching themselves off the ground with miniature earthquakes, reaching vehicle speeds was not difficult, and I threw myself onto the hatch. While demigods were often warned that their celestial bronze or imperial gold or whatnot couldn't cut mortal flesh, they could still rip through steel and armor with ease.

I slashed and carved my way through the access port. My nerves were in high, feeling jittery yet so relaxed and light. Either this was adrenaline kicking in like never before, or I've become so enlightened in battle I've achieved demigod peace. Sounds like total bullshit, and it is, but that doesn't mean I wasn't feeling it.

Before any of the guys inside could react I unloaded two clips into the tank. I doubted there wasn't anyone inside either wounded or dead, but I don't like to leave loose ends. Loose ends get us killed, and I am not letting that happen again, bro when I have the power to stop it.

Kronos was practically alive in my hands, it's magic power scorching anything that wasn't me inside. I had it in it's chained scythe mode and it just took care of everything. You ever see a blender up close before? Imagine that but with a chain and it would set you on fire at the slightest touch.

The few seconds it took to clear it out, more soldiers had tried to overrun me. I laughed on the inside. Ever since I received Gaea, I've felt stronger. If this is how Antaeus felt when we fought, then I guess I got out pretty lucky. Still, it felt amazing!

Gunfire rattled through the air and bullets began to whiz passed me. I didn't try my luck here and dove right into the tank. Sure enough, everyone had been 'cleared' out and it gave me plenty of room to operate.

I couldn't drive the tank or fire it. That was more Leo's thing. I could, however, use the fancy machine gun on top. There were plenty of ammo boxes for it in the tank, so added bonus there. Popping up, I grabbed hold of the thing, pulled it in tight, and smashed the trigger.

First thing to know about these machine guns: they kick like an ass. Second thing: loud.

My ears began to ring as I peppered the bandits that were in my sight. I saw blood burst into the air like dust and enemy soldiers shaking from the impact. I didn't stop. Every time I saw someone that wasn't friendly — which was all of them — I lit them up with a hail of bullets and moved on to the next.

The fact that this was their tank meant they couldn't just blow it up. It was immeasurably valuable, its main gun and machine gun all capable of tearing down the survivor populations and mutants alike.

"Use that fucking mortar! Just blow it the fuck up!" I heard a man desperately scream into a radio. I cursed and popped his head, then grabbed a dead soldier's assault rifle. I made a mad dash out of the tank. While Gaea and that trip to dad's realm somehow improved my endurance to the point of deflecting rifle rounds, I didn't want to test myself to any real explosives yet.

Running madly for the mortar in sight, I aimed the rifle right at them. This time I fired in bursts, trying to keep the speed to a minimum. It was difficult hitting something so small and so far away, but I could manage. After about ten bursts, I got a lucky hit and was rewarded with an explosion. Target destroyed, time to go back to the tank. The machine gun waited for me, it's grip still warm. Nice.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw another group coming around. I couldn't swivel the machine in place to face them. It felt like it was jammed at a certain point. Didn't matter to me. Kronos was a flash as it severed the metal holding the gun in place.

The sneaky group found themselves under a hail of gunfire as I tore through them with said machine gun. If I made it out of this situation I would keep this gun and call it Blackjack because this thing bucked like he did whenever he fought.

My entire body shook as the gun rattled off, eating through ammunition as fast as I did when Mom would make blue brownies.

The tight squad formations of the enemies had worked against them. To kill me, you'd need some serious long range firepower, perhaps by spreading themselves out further. Snipers and the like were not effective as my speed easily negated their accuracy.

Just a few seconds later, the group was dead and the gun went CLICK! I hopped back into the tank and began to reload quickly, all thanks to Gaea, which helped me understand the metalwork behind the weapon.

I guess those bandits lost too many people to fight on, because when I popped up they were retreating. "Fall back! Fall back!" The order could be heard all across the settlement.

Huh.

That was… much easier than I thought.

I was hoping for a swift getaway after buying the survivors some time, but it seemed they would be holding back for no.

But what if it's a trick, I asked myself. If they had to broadcast that loudly, then it could mean they were only pretending to retreat to draw us out.

A quick thought later suppressed that notion. These guys were definitely something of a military, but they were still clearly inexperienced. A soldier's job was to follow orders- to check his corners and call in the artillery. Not all of them were tacticians. Military experience didn't mean bat shit if you were trained to fire a rifle but was instead put in charge of an army. That was my impression of these soldiers. They had the resources and the manpower but not enough experience to counter a group like ours. Their next move would be to either go back in disgrace or continue playing dirty.

In about three minutes they were gone. Vamoosed like dust in the wind. Shrugging my shoulders, I hopped out of the tank, machine gun on my back. They weren't stupid enough to keep fighting me, alright. I saw John and the others huddling together towards the back. The look in their eyes was either of fear or awe. I couldn't tell. Usually when people gave me that look it was because I killed an impossible monster. Or god. Or titan. Or anything else that usually caused everyone else problems. It was a look of pride and relief.

That was what I was usually called in for, now that I think about it. Kronos, the Giants, freaking Tartarus itself (though… I didn't kill the last one, I just majorly pissed him/it/whatever off).

I waved, showing them my new toy. I'm thinking of calling it Ripper. Something cute and symbolic, you know. No one can call me out for it.

That was when I heard the whistling. First thought was, 'Why is someone whistling, and why is it so loud?'

Second thought: Oh shit.

I threw myself forward, my new machine gun hitting me hard but keeping me grounded. Then the explosion happened. Yeah, there was heat from the blast, but mainly there was the shrapnel that tore into me.

It hurt like hell on wheels going through Salt Lake with barbed wire wheels. Stupid analogy I know, but still that's about what I felt. Over the top excruciating pain all throughout my body. Especially on my back. My… back.

Another pain racked across me, a slashing pain that cut deep. Memories popped like overfilled blisters and gave the nastiest headache. I saw… I saw…

Lance.

Lance had been practicing. With… a mutant. A monster. One of the wolves.

I am going to kill him.

Nevermind the shrapnel or the fact that the soldiers were back, those things I can take care of easily. But Lance, with monsters? And he didn't even tell me. Let me tell you now, those training sessions where he could barely stand? Those will seem like walks through a field of flowers when I'm through with him.

Pain was shoved aside as Anger took the helm and shouted, "Full force ahead!" I obliged. And so did Ripper, who very well lived up to its name.

Outside the gate, I could see the soldiers in the distance. As I expected them to do, they resorted to spreading themselves out over the hills and forests to pick us off. To at least whittle our population while we escaped.

My powers over earth surged forth. Once again I could 'see' everything in the earth. It narrowed and I felt the earth move to my command. An earth mound rolled in front of me. Already it took the peppering gunfire that was heading my way.

A distant boom hit my now-sensitive ears, followed by an even louder whistling than before. I was already moving, letting my legs go into auto mode and carry me towards the nearest enemy.

After that, I don't remember exactly what happened. Between the blood, the screams, and the near-endless rage I felt I was mainly running on instinct. What I can tell you, though, is when I could finally think for myself again I was covered in blood and surrounded by bodies.

Ripper… Ripley was covered in blood and organ residue. The magazine was empty and I could feel the heat from the barrel without even putting my hand near it. Damn, I really needed that.

Looking back to the settlement, I could see I really, really was far away. From where I was I could act like I held the entire thing on the palm of my hand. I checked Ripley to see if it was salvageable. It wasn't. Whatever I did I managed not only to gunk up the inside to unusable, but completely destroy the firing pin and inner portions of the barrel. Both were warped to shit and couldn't be usable for scrap.

Okay, I lied. It totally could be used for scrap, but I'm not gonna carry the damn thing. I let it drop to the ground. Useless scrap right now.

I trudged back to the settlement, taking my time and passing the bodies. Plenty of them had backpacks, and bonus was they had some useful supplies. I grabbed three bags, one for each arm and one for my back. Stopping at each body that looked promising, I managed to grab a pretty decent haul.

My anger for Lance was still there, but it wasn't so hot now. More like a 'I'm going to slap your shit in and do it smiling' kind of anger. Yeah that sounds about right.

By the time I made it back, sunset was creeping up on us and I had three bags filled to the brim with supplies. A few canteens of water to last the others, plenty of food stuffs that will probably outlast us all, and a few bits and bobs that should make surviving just a little easier.

I found John and the others easy enough. Right where I left them… idiots, they didn't run without me. Survivors included Adam, John, Bran, Gwen, Dillian, and myself. No one else was in sight, but from the looks on the leaders' faces there was probably still a sizeable population left. Gaea had long since deactivated but I didn't need them to tell me where the others were. I would rather not deal with that right now, not while I'm still unhinged. That look in their eyes didn't change.

I tossed two of the bags to John and Adam. "Where the hell is Lance?"

Lance

I found myself once again sitting in Typhon's office, several red stains dotting my shirt. Typhon was leaning back, holding a rag to his nose like he was suffering from a nosebleed.

"Typhon? Are you-" Typhon held up a finger to silence me, cutting off any form of communication. We had been like this for about five minutes now. Last time I saw someone like this was when I had trained with a godling on Olympus and had accidentally hit my Myrmidon sergeant in the face. It was the first time I had ever made him mad, and I suffered for it. The memories and feelings of unease made me squirm a little in my chair.

Typhon sighed, removing the rag from his face but still leaned back. "Lance, tell me something. Did you, by any chance, manage to meet any of the Fates?" I had to think for a moment, sorting through my 'childhood' memories for any sign of the three old crones. The only time I could remember seeing them in person was for Luke Castellan's funeral. I had to stay on Olympus while they burned his body at the camp, and was forced to spend the night away from the celebrations to keep training.

"No." I responded. Typhon leaned forward, his red eyes seeming as if they were burning. "Well, you must have done something to piss them off enough to weave you such a shitty fate after their death." I tried to remember how I even got here in the first place, but I was coming up short. "Don't bother, you'll just give yourself an aneurysm," Typhon said. He sounded dejected, like he was sorely disappointed. "I'm not, I'm annoyed that shit seems to keep finding your brother and catching you up in the Chaos." Typhon's response reminded me once again how he could read my thoughts.

"So what happened?" Typhon sighed again the opened a drawer, pulling out a silver flask. He unscrewed the lid and poured a clear liquid onto the table. With a tap of his finger, Typhon managed to make a scrying vision in the liquid. I saw myself, strapped to a gurney, being wheeled somewhere by men in strange yellow plastic garb, with several bullet holes in my chest.

"Those asshats attacked your settlement, found you, managed to fill your chest with several bullets, and were forced to retreat thanks to your brother going berserk and wiping out their forces with some new power over the earth. I'm keeping us like this because the moment you wake up they'll just shoot you again."

"And you know this… how?" Typhon brought up the bloody rag. "I tried once. They didn't take too kindly to that." I slumped in my chair, worried about how brother would probably send me through another hellish training session after he found me. He's probably getting pissed off at me for having been captured in the first place. Gods, as if I already didn't have enough to deal with.

I looked around the room, taking in every detail I could. Since I was probably going to be here a while I at least had some time to get acquainted with this place. It was… rustic? I do not know many designer words, so I can't say for certain. It was definitely wooden, that was for sure. Wooden walls, wooden floor, wooden ceiling. Rather luxurious furniture decorated the room, two couches off against the wall, several chairs around to make it a comfortable seating arrangement. There were four bookshelves, two by the only door to this place and two behind Typhon's desk, all lined with colorful looking books.

I stood, walking around while Typhon glared at the scrying pool. Knowing him, he probably wanted to try and reach through to strangle those odd yellow men. I made for one bookshelf, dragging my fingers slowly across the old spines. Hardly any of them had titles written on the spines, and those that did had such odd names. "The Great War: A historical account", "Applications and refinement of Dust: A journey men's guide", "Atlas History, pt. 1." Several questions rolled through my head, but a sudden earthquake literally shook me from that train of thought.

Typhon stood quickly, knocking over his chair. "Alright, kid! Get ready!" He had to shout over the noise. Something hard hit me on the head, and I soon found myself waking up. Remember all those times I said I felt unbearable pain? Scrap those and replace them with this moment, because I felt horrible. Words cannot describe the intense burning in my chest, or the sluggish stinging sensation that felt like it was coursing through my veins.

My vision was blurred, my mouth was dry, and I could hardly move without suffering from an intense headache. My back felt cold, for some odd reason, and the bright light shining directly at me did not help me regain my sight. I had to force myself through the pain, clenching my teeth together so hard they ached. I shook my head, casting away the drowsiness and pain long enough to make sense of my surroundings.

I was in a stone room. Several overhead lights shined down harshly. I tried to move my arms, but found myself strapped down to some sort of cold, metal table. I tried to lift my head, but my strength faded fast. Though, I didn't need to lift my head. The table I was strapped to began to tilt on its own. Slowly a silver pane came into view.

A door opened off to my right, and I heard multiple people walk in. Three men soon surrounded me. The one off to my left looked like a priest, donning black clothes and wearing an odd white neck brace of sorts under his collar. He held a book to his chest as he looked down at me with piteous eyes. To my right stood what I assumed to be a scientist or doctor. He had a white lab coat over teal clothes and thick rimmed glasses. The last man was most definitely someone from the mortal military. I had seen plenty of photos to recognize a uniform. In this light, and with my poor vision, I thought he wore a black coat and pants, his cap held under his arm, and several colored ribbons sitting over his heart.

The only one to speak was the priest, opening his book and reciting Bible passages to me as the doctor began to fiddle with machines I did not notice before. Several IV tubes ran down the table and ended with needles in my arms. I could not see what he was doing but I assumed it was nothing good.

The military man just stood there, glaring at me. I paid him no mind. Instead, I tried my luck with the priest. That fell short when I tried to speak and could hardly manage more than a whisper. He either did not notice or ignored me.

Before long, the doctor came about. He nodded to the military man and they stood off to the side. The priest finished his 'sermon' and left the room.

Soon I found myself feeling tired again. My eyes were having trouble staying open and my entire body felt heavy. A sound like rushing water filled my ears and I felt myself drifting off.

The next moment I found myself once again in Typhon's office. "Oh Hell no," was the only thing he said to me before he waved his hands at me. I found myself again returning to my body, but this time I felt something surge in me. Instead of being in control of my body, Typhon was the one who jolted awake, gasping and startling everyone in the room. He strained and writhed against the straps, threatening to break out of them at any moment. The priest fainted then and there and the scientist wet himself. It was the military man who acted and pulled out a pistol from his pants. Three rounds were put into Typhon, but he was more durable than I was. He grunted in pain but still struggled. I could feel his hatred, his desire for freedom and bloodshed. It was overwhelming. I could feel myself feeling those exact feelings, and began to root for his escape.

That is, until he was shot in the head. We both shot back into the office. Typhon landed heavily in his chair and I had the fortune (good, for once) to land on the couch. Added bonus was that it was super soft and I sank right into the cushions. Never before did I have such a soft landing. Typhon wasn't taking this very well… or he was, seeing as how everything wasn't totally annihilated. Instead, he beat the desk with his fist, a slur of curses escaping his mouth that made even me shy away.

Mr.P3pp3r: *Cowboy screaming meme* SEASON 6 [REDACTED] CONFIRMED! WOO!

Other guy: Lol, John has been converted into the Percy religion.

On another note, looks like their reactions to Percy's story will have to be delayed to the next chapter. Sorry everyone, but we decided to keep the plot moving. In other words, how does everyone like the change to Percy's resolve? To summarize, during the attack, he gets vivid flashbacks to the giant war, and decides to shed his past as a demigod who saved the world, and become a true survivor who can lead the others to the next stage of mankind.

Mr.P3pp3r: *Screaming Cowboy Meme* SEASON 6 [REDACTED] CONFIRMED WOOOOO!

Lance: You're an idiot.

Mr.P3pp3r: Am not! Would an idiot already have Ch. 15 in the pipeline? HMMM!?

Lance: Yeah, I heard Goodsir started on Ch. 15.

Mr.P3pp3r: *Incoherent sputtering* Wha-Y-MYAAAH!

Lance: Speechless for once. Nice.

Mr.P3pp3r: Nope! We've got Ch. 15 already in the works, and it's gonna be a doozy! Stay ready my friends and fellow readers/purveyors of fiction!

Until next time: DEUCE!