He lay his head back on the headrest, as his foot pushed harder on the accelerator. He could feel the smoking of the tires on his Maserati, as he edged forward.

He didn't feel the heat, of course not.

He closed his eyes, confidant of his path. After all, he'd been driving it for nearly three millennia.

He could feel the pain in his chest, but he had no idea where it was coming from.

Apollo rushed forward, through the halls, Zeus and Poseidon right ahead of him. Zeus gasped and his sister, Artemis who was right behind him, cried out in fear, "Thalia!"

"She's just unconscious!" he said, exasperated and not wanting to stop. He received dirty looks but ignored them, throwing the doors open, his bow ready.

There was no danger. It had vanished, leaving in its wake, destruction.

Luke, the son of Hermes, lay dead and Apollo sighed. Ofcourse, how had he not remembered? He'd foreseen it himself.

He looked at his throne, the golden color seat. The armrests had crumbled and the huge sun on the backrest was cracked. He growled in frustration, not even relieved that the war was over.

Zeus called for a council and he sat down, on his broken throne, not paying any attention. He watched silently and somber, for once.

The doors flew open as a young girl ran in, shouting, "Percy! Percy!"

She froze when she saw the council in session, terrorized, no doubt, about what the gods would do to her.

She nervously tucked a strand of her hair and her eyes fell on him. He sighed, seeing them and knew it was his youngest daughter, Kayla.

She swallowed seeing him and he nodded silently.

Her attention snapped back, as Zeus' voice called out.

"Is there a reason for your intervention, Ms..."

"Kayla...sir. Daughter of Apollo."

She trudged forward, kneeling before Zeus, then in front of him.

"Rise, Kayla. I'm so proud of you," he said, sullen and not like his usual self. He looked more like what he really was: a three thousand year old god, not an expensive car owning teenager.

"Kayla?" asked Percy.

"We found h-his body," she said, tears running down her cheeks.

Zeus raised an eyebrow.

"Our b-brother sir," she said.

Apollo slumped, as his family of council looked at everything and anything but him. Only Artemis looked at him, feeling his pain, remembering Zoe. And he mourned.

A rainbow shimmered in front of him even though he was well into space.

"Ease up on the speed, Apollo. The Canada winter looks like an Egyptian summer."

"Shut up, Hermes," he said, waving away the message.

He landed on the ground, reaching his destination, the snow around him, melting. Everyone, who'd averted their eyes, looked at him, silent.

He walked ahead, until he reached the procession in front. He watched the body, wrapped in a delicate golden shroud. Everyone parted, and Will Solace stopped. His face was pale and his eyes crazed. War had taken an ugly toll on all of them, his children who'd died fighting for him, who payed for the mistakes made by him and his siblings, his parents.

He frowned, hurt by the thought.

He reached out, touching his hand to Michael's forehead in a silent blessing. He then gestured for Will to light the shroud and he watched as the smoke spiraled to the sun, towards home.

His tears welled in his eyes, at the thought of the many other children he had who were either training or dead, all in his name. Or those, who still had no idea who they were, but would get hunted down by monsters, sent by his enemies.

He felt guilt coursing through him, along with remorse.

"He was a good guy," said Kayla, standing next to him. Apollo nodded.

"I know, sweetie, I know."

Kayla nodded, too, having no words left to say.

"He died a hero," he said, after a while.

"Atleast he had the pleasure," said Apollo. She raised an eyebrow.

"Atleast he didn't have to live forever, watching his children run from his enemies, train for him and then die for him. He's happier away from that."

Kayla frowned, never having thought of it that way. Apollo put a hand on her shoulder.

"Being a God, isn't always fun, you know."

As he walked back towards his car, looking at the leftover smoke in the sky, Kayla called out.

"No haiku today, Dad?"

Apollo stopped in his place, and turned, before mumbling a few lines,

"The hero's soul, it's free,

in fields of heaven and I think,

'tis a tragedy."

Kayla hugged him, crying and Apollo hugged her back, kissing her forehead, grieving for a loss which he'd never be able to replace, as he himself lived forever.