Disclaimer: I do not own anything or anyone mentioned in this story that was created for the Percy Jackson universe. The plot is mine, and gods, monsters, etc. belong to the, now dead, Ancient Greeks.

Info: I've had the first half of this story outlined for almost a year now; I'm currently revising and editing it to be more IC and believable. I am not promising rapid updates, since I like when authors write longer chapters and update every-other week; as apposed to short chapters and several updates per week.

Spelling/Grammar: I'm trying to improve things like 'to' vs. 'too,' so, if you find a mistake, I'd apprentice it if you told me what it was, and how to fix it.

"Calvin: Do you believe in the devil? You know, a supreme evil being dedicated to the temptation, corruption, and destruction of man?

Hobbes: I'm not sure that man needs the help"~Bill Watterson.

Chiron swished his tail nervously. Shadows crept up around him, and the setting sun was barely throwing enough light through the one, high window to see by. He was well armed, and was quite confident that anything small enough to jump out from behind one of the numerous sheeted objects could be easily defeated. He was still uneasy.

"You came."

The voice startled the centaur: having caught him off guard. It wasn't a voice he had planned on hearing possible ever again; but one that, centuries before, he had been very familiar with.

"You swore to come under truce," Chiron reminded, feeling that he ought to at least try to keep his old friend from attacking.

White teeth flashed in the shadowy web of increasingly dark air that lay just beyond Chiron's sight. "Temporary truce." The sentence sounding mocking to Chiron; and, if he knew its owner, it was.

From the protective cover of darkness, a tall, black haired man stepped. His skin was marred by criss-crossing layers of deep scars, and even his high-collared dress shirt could not conceal the jagged marks racing down and across his neck.

"Prometheus," Chiron acknowledged, nodding curtly. He hadn't been on good terms with the fore-thinking Titan before the rebellion-the reason an inexplicable, likely unavoidable incident involving the few demi-titan children Prometheus had-but now, after the Titan had revealed himself to be a supporter of Kronos in the fast approaching battle, Chiron considered him an enemy to be dealt with on sight.

That pretty much explained why he was so hesitant to meet with the traitorous Titan alone, in an small house in the midst of otherwise unpopulated Oklahoman meadow.

"You and I both know that when fighting a war, protecting as many troops as possible is in your best interest." Just like Prometheus: right to the point; no pleasantries, no questions.

Chiron sighed, right hoof pawing nervously in a habit he had thought he'd broken. "Of course," He answered, struggling to keep eye contact when he had to crane his neck so uncomfortably high to see the black lens of the seven-foot Titan's sunglasses.

"Do you know where we are?" Prometheus asked suddenly, running the tips of his long, calloused fingers across the wall nearest him. They came back dusty; the walls now sporting racing stripes.

"An abandoned house," Chiron replied, trying his best to answer smoothly when his emotions clashed so violently between anger and remorse. One of his former friends was standing in front of him, acting the part of a diplomat, not an enemy: it would have been so much easier to hate him if he'd appeared more threatening.

The Titan nodded, the tiniest of smiles forcing its way across his lips. He liked intimidating people; especially those he had once been intimidated by. "Yes, one that I've bought for a...special purpose."

Chiron shivered: Prometheus' words sounded so innocent, almost childlike; but the centaur had learned never to trust the shiny exterior of anything, and he was on the verge of being panicked: buying houses didn't seem like the pastime one might expect from an important figure in Kronos' army.

"The son of Poseidon with be fifteen soon," Prometheus started, not waiting for the horse-man to comment on his previous declaration. "And we both know that, at the rate our armies are building, there will be heavy losses on both our sides if we don't agree on something, now."

"Agree on what?" Chiron asked, his interest sparked. He had been expecting the Titan to demand his surrender, or attempt to blackmail him; but not to ask for his agreement.

The minuscule, ghost smile was back for an instant; threading its way over broken lips that would never heal. "Kronos is planning to use the son of Hermes for his vessel; and your Olympian king will have lead a full war after that. No one will win. Terror will return to the earth, and most of the demigods alive now will die. I have seen it."

Chiron balked: amazed both at the great devastation Prometheus predicted, and the calm, self-assured way he was able to talk about it. "Wh-what do you propose?" He asked finally, swallowing hard as he tried to anticipate his companion's proposition.

"An alliance," The Titan answered, flexing his fingers before him. Like his suit, his tone was crisp, leaving nothing to argue with and nothing to improve. "One that will keep Kronos busy long enough to be destroyed; and Zeus bound to an agreed cease-fire."

As Chiron's eyebrows knit together, the last of the sun's light and heat left the small room. Prometheus snapped his palm open; a curl of red and orange fire springing from his discolored flesh. His blindingly white teeth and heavily tinted glasses stood even more prominently out in the strong light.

"I can think of nothing we have access to that could do both," Chiron said finally, his brows unfurling. He was disappointed that there was nothing available to him that could stop the pointless bloodshed that Prometheus was sure there was ahead; but he had faith in Percy: he hadn't lost all hope yet.

"Actually," Prometheus' lenses glittered strangely as sparks jumped from his palm and hit the thick black plastic. His lips had curled into a horribly uncanny cross between a triumphant smile and sadistic snarl: he looked positively frightening. "I already have."