Percy paced through the forest, desperately trying to think of what to do.

He had just heard Zoe and Bianca talking about how the last member they had chosen for the quest was not able to attend, but they were still planning on going without choosing another member. He wasn't an expert on Oracles and Prophecies (despite being part of multiple!), but going astray of the prophecy at the BEGINNING of the quest seemed like one of those not so good ideas that Annabeth accused him of having all the time.

No, he didn't have anything to do with their decision. He was... Almost positive.

Like, 87% positive? Maybe?

In the end, he just wanted Annabeth to be safe. And although he hadn't known Artemis for very long, the legends of her made her out to be one of the better of the divine authorities around, and for her to be held captive by the enemy was probably a VERY bad thing…

He groaned at where his thoughts were taking him, his pacing taking a more aggressive tempo.

He had been hoping, REALLY and truly hoping, that this summer would be different. He was fourteen. FOURTEEN! Kids that age don't go on quests, or, or, fight stupid monsters that couldn't take a hint and stay dead! They're supposed to spend time with their family! Go to the beach, hang out with friends, goof off with those friends!

Not that he'd know, you know, on account of never having been able to do that stuff. But he had always wanted to!

He sighed in frustration. Even before he found out that he was a demigod, things hadn't gone well for him. Constantly changing schools, his crummy stepdad, trying to help his Mom... Then Zeus, in his almighty wisdom, decided that a twelve year old was able to slip into Olympus to steal his Lightning.

Says a lot about the security, huh?

Then everything went from bad to worse, with one thing after another the next year, and now this!

His pacing became more frenzied as his thoughts became more frantic at the memories. In response to his thoughts the air became more humid, and waves started forming more furiously along the shores in the distance.

But now that Thalia was back, he had been certain that if anything crazy happened, it would hit her instead of him. Kind of like a lightning rod, heh.

Percy shook his head, trying to get it back on track.

Sure, he might have slightly been dragged into whatever happened because Thalia was really good friends with Annabeth, and of course he would have helped out Annabeth, but it should have been minor.

And, well, technically, he hadn't been wrong. HE wasn't chosen for the quest, and SHE was. This was good! It was what he wanted! And yet... His mind went back to the vision he had had of Annabeth, being crushed underneath the ceiling of that cave... He thought of his friend Grover, and Thalia as well. Sure, he reasoned, she wasn't the best of friends with him, but he could sympathize with her position, having been in it himself not too long ago.

His fists tightened, nails digging into his hands, as he thought of Nico, and how he would feel if Bianca were to die.

Lost in his thoughts, he didn't notice the water beginning to form on all of the trees, nor the wind picking up speed.

It was what he wanted - the chance to have a quiet summer. No quests, the biggest danger being the climbing wall, and no enemies. But...

His friends flashed before his eyes, and he angrily shut them tight.

He couldn't do it.

He wanted his friends to make it through the quest safely.

He wanted Nico to be able to see Bianca again.

And he wanted Annabeth to NOT be in enemy hands. For them, he was willing to sacrifice his chance of a quiet summer.

Tears formed as his determination strengthened.

Why?

Why did they have to worry about this?

Why were the kids the ones that were responsible for the fate of the world?

Where were the adult heroes? Like the ones spoken about in legend? They didn't have to deal with all of this when they were kids. They were all adults - already trained and probably at least semi-ready for the quests they were to go on! Who designed this system?!

Unable to hold in his frustration, he clenched his fists and let out a loud yell in the woods, expelling all of his anger and pain into the sea of trees, the water that had been collecting on the leaves expelling in a furious blast.

It wasn't the yell of a hero. It wasn't one of defiance, or determination.

It was the shout of a child in pain.

A small girl attending the hearth lowered her head in sadness, and the director of the camp scowled into his drink, wishing he could get drunk all the more.

The two gods had seen far too many kids have to grow up before their time, and each could only deal with it in their own way.

In the woods, Percy stood there gasping, slowly relaxing his muscles. He had already decided that he would do it. Not for the fame that he hated, and definitely not because some prophecy said it had to be so.

He was going to go to make sure that his friends made it back safely.

With his mind then made up, he sprinted over to the stables, determined to catch up with the questers.

So focused he was, he didn't notice the way the ground and air seemed to shake behind him.

He didn't realize that somebody had heard his plea.

He had no idea that somebody… Decided to answer his call.

What purpose serves the Throne of Heroes?

From the beginning of time, across the realities of the multiverse, to the distant future. All of those that are worthy of the title of Hero are recorded therein.

Long before the Holy Grail Wars - before the gemcraft of the Tohsaka's, the homonculi of the Eizenburghs, or the worm-craft of the Matous, the Throne existed.

Why exist, if not to be used?

Recording across the bounds of reality, that touch can go both ways.

If the throne can record across such vast spaces, then one can call the throne from those same spaces.

A Hero can be summoned.

Deep within the Throne, far from the current reality, something stirred.

The cry of a child, one related to him yet not, resonated deep within him - he who had been forced to listen to his own children cry in pain as the throes of madness was forced upon him. He shook himself awake and moved, his will enough that the Throne could not deny him.

An invincible hero, knowing greatness, only to fall, and then rise once more. Madness once consuming, now thrown off. He who triumphed over impossible trials time and time again. He who had beaten the twelve labours and overcome all before him.

One who could qualify for all classes save for Caster, his legends strong enough to support it thus.

The greatest Hero that Greece had ever produced, perhaps that had ever existed. In reaction to the cry of a child, he came.

Groaning, the Throne shifted.

A miracle occurred.

A tear formed, and out stepped out a giant of a man. Over 8 feet tall with every inch of him pure muscle. Shirtless, he wore only an armored kilt, his dark skin and wild shoulder length black hair made him blend in with the background of the forest. Across his back was a large, golden pelt, shimmering metallically Strapped on top of the pelt he had several noticeable weapons - a large jagged greatsword of dark metals, a two sided golden axe, and a beautifully carved bow with a quiver of javelin sized arrows. Half of the arrows were an iron color, the other bronze.

If one were to look at his face, they'd be surprised to see a gentle look come over the giant's face as he looked around and watched the young man run towards the stable. Appearing in thought for a second, he smiled softly.

He realized he was in a different world fairly quickly. The information provided was scant, but he could sense his old teacher in the distance. This realization almost brought a tear to his eye as he remembered his mistake in his own world, where he had caused the death of Chiron. That his old friend was alive and well in this world made him indescribably happy.

Waiting for a bit, he watched as the boy that had summoned him flew off on a black Pegasus. Marking the direction, he started taking thunderous steps after him, eventually turning into a run. Once he got closer to his destination, he would turn into his spiritual form, but he felt like enjoying his freedom for now.

As he ran, he thought about his summoner. Technically his cousin he supposed. To be forced to go through the trials he had, at his age…

He would not allow it.

He would assist him, his cousin and his half-sister. His grin took on a vicious quality, and the ground thundered at his passing, large cracks from the pressure forming as he pushed himself with almost limitless power.

One thing he learned throughout his life was the importance of family. Mostly stemming from his lack of one, and the feeling he had when he had lost them. He had no love of the gods, but for his mortal siblings he would push himself.

The threats of this world were the creatures of the Greek Pantheon?

Please.

The earth shook even more as the giant began to be filled with anticipation.

He had taken on the greatest threats the Greeks had ever seen once before already. This might not have been Greece, but the Greek Gods in this land had claimed it as such, giving him the same bonus as if he was in Greece, he could already feel it.

The enemies arrayed before him?

His aura turned dark as his fists clenched tightly enough to crush metal.

They didn't stand a chance.

And with that, the great Hero Heracles set out to join a quest once more.

Author's notes

This was a spur of the moment idea that I had that I wanted to write out. Still, I hope that everybody enjoyed it. :)

I'm not sure if I will continue it - we'll see how many people actually like the idea. If I do continue it, I don't think the chapters will be very long for it.

I'd like to thank my brother, Autumnstar, and my sisters, Elronia and CaptainDarkElf, for proofreading this chapter and giving suggestions!