Author's note: I know that this might seem unoriginal to readers, but there's a reason for it. Please give this a chance :) Will get better. R&R.

The surroundings were blurry and unfamiliar – a rush of white and gray, then he tried to make sense of the situation he was in.

He was in a museum - the history kind, with tall gray statues and fancy information boards everywhere. He was standing in the middle of a group of students, all of who were listening intently to the teacher, a stiff-looking gray-haired woman. She looked familiar, and he tensed, not quite sure where or when he had seen her before. She glanced his way, and her bottom lip curled. He had zero idea of where he was, who he was, or what was happening, but at the same time there was a persistent sense of déjà vu.

What was his name? He thought furiously to himself – then it came. Percy – something. He looked back at the teacher, who now seemed oblivious to him. "Hurry up, Percy." The guy standing beside him said, nudging him. The group moved off, and Percy took a quick glance at the group of people he had somehow ended up with. There was an assortment of people, but they were all teenagers – his age, Percy presumed. How old was he? Sixteen? He couldn't remember anything.

Percy trailed behind the group, looking around him in bewilderment. The teacher woman kept throwing glances at him, which was getting creepy. The guy who nudged him earlier walked beside him – he was short, walked a little weird and had a peculiar accent. Yet, he was talking to him as if he had known him for months. Percy started to wonder if he had amnesia – there was no other explanation for the situation he was in. Everyone knew him, yet he couldn't remember anything. Aside from the teacher, nobody did anything out of the ordinary to him.

They passed by a tall statue on a pedestal. The teacher woman cleared her throat and said clearly, "Percy Jackson."

Jackson – so that was his surname.

"Yeah?" Percy replied, feeling uncomfortable. How could she know his surname before he did?

"Who is that statue of?" The woman asked him.

Percy glanced up at the statue. It was a tall man in battle armor, with a strong and determined face. In his hands he held a trident. Percy racked his brains, but came up with nothing. Yet, something told him he knew who it was. The mind cloud was starting to get irritating.

Percy shook his head. "I don't know."

Everyone glanced at him as if he were stupid, but the teacher frowned as if disappointed.

"Mrs Dodds?" A girl raised her hand, and the teacher – Mrs Dodds – nodded at her. "It's Neptune."

"Correct. Neptune is his Roman name, and Poseidon the Greek name," Mrs Dodds said. She gave Percy a steely look. "Write it down." She was referring to the worksheet Percy was holding in his hands. Where did he get it from anyway?

Percy reached into his pocket, searching for a pen, and fished out a ballpoint pen. He uncapped it, poising the pen to write.

The pen lengthened and turned into a long bronze sword. Percy stared at the sword in confusion as it passed clean through the paper. He looked up, hoping that nobody had seen him. Too late, Mrs Dodds was glaring daggers at him from the corner of the group. Percy was completely in the dark about what had happened, so he touched the cap of the pen to the tip of the sword and it morphed back into a ballpoint pen. Percy stared at the pen carefully in amazement. What was this?

Mrs Dodds approached him. Her eyes were like burning furnaces. "What are you doing here?" She scowled. She didn't like the blade. "Keep that!"

Finally, someone who realized he didn't belong. Percy almost passed out from relief, but that wouldn't have been cool. He put the pen back in his pocket. "I don't know," he said. "I have no idea where this place is, and I need to get out of here."

Mrs Dodds raised one eyebrow. "You think I'm going to let you escape so fast, honey?"

Huh? Was Percy's only thought. And then: Her voice sounds familiar.

"Why did you pretend not to know who was it on that pedestal?" She hissed. "What are you up to this time? If you are intercepting my mission, Pluto will have your soul."

"I really don't know," Percy said uneasily. "Look, back off." Mrs Dodds ignored his words and continued marching forwards.

"You caused us enough trouble the last time, honey," she snarled. "You think that because you're the saviour of Olympus, you will be spared this time?"

Saviour of Olympus? Nothing Mrs Dodds was saying made sense. Percy desperately tried to organize his thoughts – or lack thereof, thinking of how to phrase things. Just then, the guy who thought he was Percy's friend from earlier appeared. The rest of the group had apparently moved into the next room. "Percy? Is there a problem?" He glanced apprehensively at Mrs Dodds.

Of course not, thought Percy sarcastically. I'm only stuck on a school trip with a bunch of people I don't know, lost all my memories, and been harassed by a crazy teacher who calls me the savior of Olympus. Nothing's wrong.

He didn't have time to say anything, because Mrs Dodds was changing form – her eyes retracted in their sockets, her fingers turned into scaly sharp talons, her skin grew gray and wrinkled. With one fluid motion, she was a horrifying winged creature, and she lunged at him with her razor-sharp talons. As if on instinct, Percy leapt to one side, effectively dodging.

"Uncap your sword!" shouted the guy who thought he was Percy's friend. Again. How was it that he knew about the sword when Percy himself didn't? He scrambled in his pocket for the sword while running in the other direction, but Mrs Dodds was airborne and she managed to get her talons around his neck. Percy waited for his inevitable death.

However, her talons deflected right off his skin as if repelled. Percy thrust his sword at her and she dissipated into mist at once.

Percy was still absolutely clueless as to what had happened.

The guy who thought he was Percy's friend stepped forward. "I recognized her from the start," he said. "C'mon, let's go."

"Whoa, hold on a sec," Percy said. "Wait up. What's going on? Who are you?"

"My name's Bobby, and I'm your protector," said the guy simply. He was a Hispanic guy with a foreign accent. Percy's brain, however, wasn't absorbing any of what Bobby was telling him. "And you have to follow me unless you want to face more of that." That obviously referring to what Percy had just witnessed.

Percy kept the sword, sighing. He had no idea what he had gotten himself into. Bobby led Percy out the back door of the museum and on the next bus, and they were off, leaving the class under the guidance of some guy who seemed to think he was their history teacher.