It was as if a bomb had been dropped. Not the explosive impact, though, nor the subsequent terror and noise. No, it was the silence afterward - the dust had settled, the car alarms had ceased, the screams had faded. It was the silence of wreckage, of devastation.

The only sound that echoed through the Olympian throne room was the crackling of the hearth.

Most Olympians had found themselves in constant flux, suffering from their splintered selves warring against one another. Some had found temporary remedies, while others had taken to seeking refuge in their own temples. There were still others, of course, who hadn't needed to deal with these issues - coming to peace with one's past certainly helped seal one's soul from the threat of true schism. But this was difficult for many on Olympus.

There were two. Two who sought no refuge, who took no refuge, who needed no refuge. Two that could go about business as normal. They sat in their thrones, the lone goddesses who could mask the sickness Olympus dealt with presently.

Love had long known peace. Venus, Aphrodite, Po-ti-ni-ja A-si-wi-ja - no matter her form, it had always been so easy to switch between them. Love transcended differences, she would explain. Identity doesn't matter when connection bonds so strongly, and thus there was no need for aspects to struggle with one another. They were the same.

The Moon, though… The moon fought tooth and nail for her peace. Diana, Artemis, A-ti-mi-te, all three used to war in her consciousness. But she was the only one on Olympus Mount that understood life below. The only one that knew humanity beyond the superficial. The only one that knew she had to fight herself sometimes.

So the two of them sat, still. Aphrodite had been putting on a performative coat of makeup just twenty minutes ago, while Artemis had been talking to her lieutenant on an Iris message. The battle for New Rome was compelling, but they had seen battles. After so many years, they blend together.

Until Perseus Jackson arrived.

The rainbow had been swiped through, the makeup mirror disappeared. As odd as it may have seemed to an outsider, Aphrodite and Artemis watched the same program with rapt attention, images hovering above the hearth's fire.

Aphrodite turned to Artemis as Mars flashed on the scene.

"That was… Mars killed the giant, right?" Aphrodite asked, doubt creeping into her typically angelic voice. "Percy couldn't have done it himself, right?"

"I…"

Artemis couldn't look away from the scene in front of her. She had squashed comparison, finding it silly. She knew her memory wasn't perfect. But the similarities to that traveler she had encountered, way back during the Peloponnesian War, were beginning to count uncomfortably high.

Silver eyes met kaleidoscopic ones. Different colors, identical emotions.

Nervousness.

"I truly don't know."

Never had a silence been as tense.

They were miles away from where Ouranos stretched for Gaea, but the atmosphere on the Field of Mars felt as heavy on Roman shoulders as Atlas' burden must have felt on his. None knew what to do.

The Romans, well, they weren't sure what exactly to do. Within moments, the one many proclaimed as praetor had defied a deity, an Olympian, one of their icons.

No, not defied.

Challenged.

"No."

Mars crouched down slowly, lowering onto his haunches as his armor shifted. He stopped when he reached eye level with Percy, red eyes glowing behind his helmet. His shield, so imposingly solid, was held to his side, exposing his legs for view. His spear, one fit for a King, lay still beneath Percy's chin, the sheer weight of the blade preventing Percy's head from dropping.

Percy could tell Mars was different from Ares. Ares, he knew to be impulsive. Impetuous. Rash. Aggressive. He was war in its unbowed state. No politics, no logistical considerations, no strategic considerations for alliances or individual expression. No, Ares was the chaos of war, the dust kicked up by horses as two men tried to take the other's life, the flash of unconsciousness from the slash of a sword. Ares was the emotion.

Mars, Mars was the act of war. Mars waged careful war. Mars wasn't solely the soldier on the front lines - Mars was the general behind them, too. He was guarded, cautious, careful… at least, until the front lines broke, the spears pierced skin, and the helmets popped off. When that happened, well, there wasn't much difference anymore.

The only difference at that point was their honor.

Percy and Mars met eye to eye, neither moving. Percy was breathing heavy, the effort put in against Polybotes still weighing on his muscles. Without the Curse of Achilles, Percy knew his body - if intact - would've been varying shades of black and blue by now.

Perhaps a touch of gold as well.

"No?" Mars rumbled.

The bite in his voice felt like a cannon.

"You would… reject… the word of Olympus? Careful, child," Mars said.

Amidst the burning walls, the blood-soaked grasses, the golden dust littering the battlefield, the tired Roman soldiers kneeling still, through gritted teeth and curled lips, the die was cast.

"Yes."

Mars narrowed his eyes, red intensifying in the darkness of his visor. Percy could see his hands tightening on his spear, fingers clenching the handle.

"Against my better judgment, I am giving you a chance, child. Do not so quickly toss your final opportunity to Void."

The standoff was interrupted, however, by sudden hoofsteps upon the dirt, approaching. Percy glanced to his right, coming face to face with a horse. Not just a horse - a pegasus.

Scipio.

"My lord," Reyna spoke, hopping down from Scipio's back, sliding behind his wings. She dropped to a kneeling position beside Percy, purple cloak draped behind her.

"You honor us with your presence here today. I hope we made you proud on the battlefield today, fighting in your honor."

Mars wrenched his eyesight away from Percy's kneeling frame, meeting Reyna - though he didn't remove the sword from Percy's neck. A tight smile arrived on his face.

"Ah, Praetor Arellano. Well done today, your sacrifices were well met. You suffered losses today. Those losses shall be honored as true Romans, as true servants."

Reyna bowed her head. "Yes, my lord, they will be. We will plan a grand feast and funeral in remembrance of their passing for the coming week."

"Good, Praetor Arellano. Well done. Perhaps I will make an appearance, in their honor."

Reyna's eyes widened marginally, although she tried not to let them betray her surprise.

"Rome would greatly appreciate that, my lord Mars."

Mars made an agreeable noise in the back of his throat, like a low hum. He turned back to Percy, eyes piercing. Percy could hear Reyna shuffle slightly, clearing her throat, the silence turning from oppressive to awkward.

"Can I help you, Praetor Arellano?" Mars asked, peering back over to Percy's right.

Percy flicked his eyes behind Mars' shoulder, locking eyes with Nico, who knelt behind two legionnaires of the 2nd Cohort. Percy sent a silent question toward him, flicking his eyes toward Reyna quickly. Nico nodded to him in understanding.

"I, well… I know I am uninformed, my lord…" Reyna said, careful to keep her voice low, her words audible only to Percy and Mars. "Has Percy done something wrong that would warrant his taking from Rome at this moment? His help in defending the city was invaluable, he should be rewarded. Just moments ago, half the Legion was just chanting 'Praetor.' Should we not -"

"That's enough, Praetor Arellano," Mars said. He spoke sternly, like a teacher exasperated by his students. Percy, though, could hear the anger in the god's words.

Reyna shuddered, keeping her eyes on the dirt in front of Mars.

"My lord -"

"This boy," Mars roared. "Is no hero. He is no savior! You would be wise to know this, to remember this, Praetor Ramirez Arellano!"

Reyna flinched, leaning backward from Mars' sudden outburst.

"I deeply apologize, my lord. I did not mean to offend…"

Mars took a breath.

Percy grasped Anaklusmos' handle, ever so slightly. He glanced downward, trying to identify a particular weakness, any particular weakness, Mars might have had.

"I have been ordered to bring Perseus Jackson to Olympus. Do you object to this requisition, Praetor Arellano?"

"Of course not, my Lord," Reyna said. "I meant no disrespect."

Percy glared at Mars. He knew Reyna didn't trust him - that much was clear from their earlier meeting. But he knew Reyna still held a sense of duty and responsibility for Camp Jupiter's legionnaires, no matter her personal feelings. Even if a God had whispered into her ear, he knew she wouldn't act on that. Only the word of Olympus would move her beyond reason. This was politics. Smart politics.

"I will not be taken so easily," Percy spoke up.

Mars chuckled.

"Are you going to fight me, child? Your service to Rome demands service to Olympus, does it not? Are your convictions so determinant, your objections so solid? Do not be foolish."

Percy snorted. "I am no fool."

"My blade is at your throat, child," Mars said. "Do what your King has demanded of you. Come to Olympus, there are those who wish to discuss matters. You will not survive a fight with me."

Percy secured his grip.

"I have before."

He shot a look at Nico.

In a burst of shadow, Nico popped out of the dirt, hands rising from below like a rising corpse. In an instant, his hands latched onto Reyna's kneeling leg, engulfing the Praetor as the Sun's shadows danced. Reyna disappeared, shadow traveling back away from the battlefield. Scipio whinnied, dancing sideways away from the sudden move from Hades' spawn.

In that instant, the moment Nico dropped from Percy's eyesight, he began his war.

With one fluid motion, Percy snapped Anaklusmos before him, blade pointing away from his thumb in an unusual backward slash. He hit skin - Mars was in traditional Roman armor, a look imposing, but not without its weaknesses. No greave on the right leg, and no shield… it left a limb exposed. Briefly.

Briefly worked.

Percy's blade bit like a viper on Mars' calf, golden blood dripping quickly. At the same moment, Percy surged up from his kneeling position, his own knee colliding with Mars' chin, a surprise blow. Percy snapped Anaklusmos back toward him, refusing to allow any divine attempt at weapon repossession.

Unfortunately, his twin blow was met instantly with a spear jab to the throat.

And not just a spear jab… a Mars spear jab.

The power behind it felt like a falling pine tree in the forest aiming for a hiker. Percy's head snapped forward as Mars' blade desperately sought an instinctive beheading, hoping to kill the first demigod that had seen him bleed in decades.

Olympian summons be damned, it seemed.

Percy choked, feeling multiple vertebrae crack at the force. He grabbed at his neck, feeling as close to decapitated as a man could get, while reaching with one hand toward the aqueduct for the healing water. Mars barely had left any room originally for a swing - how in the world did he generate that much force?

Christ, Gods were strong.

The sudden exchange had shocked the crowd surrounding them. Some fled for cover, probably working out that an actual fight might cause serious damage. There were a few screams of shock, a few spears and swords clattering to the dirt. Some stood suddenly, as if the three hits had hit their head as a heavy bass would resonate in a concert goer's brain.

Most couldn't move, foot and knee frozen to the ground in either genuine shock, or fear - fear that the man they wanted to ordain as Praetor may have been killed in mere moments.

Percy wiped his lips with the back of his hands, steadying himself on one knee, glancing over at his opposition. He could feel the water healing his insides, as fast as he could mend bone. Mars stood once more, a thin drip of ichor falling to the dirt in a slow drip. His twisted visage was imbued with an anger, a righteous anger, matched by burning, harsh red eyes.

Percy expected Mars to taunt him, or launch into some diatribe about Olympian morality. He expected a show.

None such.

Mars shrugged his shoulders, hefted his spear, and beckoned him. He towered head and shoulders over all present, an unnatural presence about him. Shining armor was joined by an ominous silver helmet, its red plume seemingly dripping blood, shadows lengthened to hide Mars' face. As if Mars had shed his earthly shell to represent the craven depravity of war, of conquest, of bloodshed, all behind his armor.

His red eyes were still visible, within the shadows. Percy could feel an aura of anxiety, too - emanating off the body of Mars, as if trying to evoke the feeling a soldier felt in an LCVP approaching Omaha Beach, a citizen stuck in a siege, a commander walking into a trap.

The anxiety of war.

Fuck it.

Percy shot off from his kneeling position, as if a runner sprinting at the Olympics. Mars stood at the ready, the finish line. Dust rose from his footfalls. The air shifted around his charging self, getting heavier, almost. Like before a thunderstorm, the barometric pressure seemed to drop.

Mars tensed, spear in front of his armor, ready for Percy's attack.

The duel began.

Percy slid, sweeping his leg in front of him, in an attempt to hook around Mars' legs. Rocks were strewn upward, obstructing Mars' view, but that didn't stop him - he stepped back, Percy's sweep missing. Mars stabbed downward with his spear, a strike with unmatched power behind it, but a strike that was nonetheless parried away by Anaklusmos, tip sticking into the dirt.

A quick stab from Anaklusmos, upward toward Mars' gut, deflected off his chestplate. Mars responded, bringing his shield across his body with his right hand, trying to bash Percy's right arm in. Percy spun on his foot, quickly pulling his arm back, dodging the blow.

He quickly circled, swinging Anaklusmos in a quick slash aimed at Mars' spear handle, still in the dirt. His sword, however, didn't connect with the spear - rather, it was hit by Mars' left hand, which somehow redirected the blade in mid-air, as if a boxing glove hit a bag and shoved it to the side.

The god quickly pulled his hand back before jabbing forward once more, a quick strike aimed at Percy's jaw. Percy flung himself backward, but the jab still glanced off Percy's jaw, barely making contact but still flinging Percy off his rhythm.

Percy spun on his heels, regaining his sense of direction, giving himself a bit of distance to reset. The god yanked his spear out of the dirt - an act which seemed to take more effort than expected - before readying himself once more.

With another strike, Percy chopped downward with Anaklusmos, his sword arcing gracefully toward the god's shoulder. Mars stepped back, letting the blade whistle past, before launching a barrage of thrusts with his spear - one at his neck, then his head, then his right ankle, then his left shoulder. Percy quickly danced backward, throwing his body away from the spearhead as Mars lunged, hoping to push any potential advantage he may have had.

As Mars thrust lunged a second time, Percy swung Anaklusmos, knocking the spear off course behind him. Percy tried a counterswing, nearly sliding his blade up the spear's shaft, but it was caught quickly by Mars' shield. Mars stepped forward, bashing his shield forward. Percy staggered back at the force of the blow, retreating further to escape the reach of Mars' speartip.

The two stalked in a circle around one another, searching for an opening. Mars' spear, poised next to his shield like a viper ready to strike from the shadows, was certainly intimidating.

But not impossible to beat.

Percy paused in his circling when the damaged aqueduct was at Mars' back, before charging Mars once more. Percy knew he couldn't afford to hold back, not anymore.

Time to fight dirty.

He raised Anaklusmos in his right hand, holding it above his body as if to strike rightward - but just as Mars brought his shield up to block the coming swipe, and his red eyes flicked sideways, Percy struck.

A strong wind, summoned by Percy's left hand, was released with a claw-like push of his free left hand. The updraft, especially from an unusual direction, caught Mars by surprise, and his shield arm overextended.

Percy dove left, bringing down Anaklusmos in an atypical downward slash, gravity and momentum adding to its force.

This time, the blade dug into his skin. Mars had opted against wearing any kind of armguard, as was typical - thus, there was no metal to protect his arm. Anaklusmos cleaved into Mars' arm, cutting to the bone, golden ichor spurting out. Percy didn't lose grip of his sword, dragging it with him as his dive carried him behind Mars; the resulting wound was gaping.

Mars roared.

Percy spun quickly, not letting up on his attack, quickly thrusting his off hand forward, toward his opponent's lower back. The flooding aqueduct, now right behind Percy, responded. Streams of water shot forward, hardening into ice shards at Percy's command, before gashing Mars' lower back, eliciting further yells. The god sank to his knees.

The demigod shot forward, at this point flying just above the dirt, moving supernaturally quick. He had to press his advantage, no matter what.

Haste, however, begets blindness.

Mars, despite the pain, had not forgotten where he was nor who he was fighting. With a roar, the deity swiveled on his knee, bringing his spear around in a rainbow arc, powerful enough to cut through California Redwoods. Just as Percy was close to striking once more, the god's spear handle - still wooden, but clearly of Olympian build - drove into Percy's side, punching him away from the god. Percy skidded across the dirt, barely holding on to Anaklusmos.

Percy grunted at the blow, stumbling back to his feet. He raised Anaklusmos instinctively, prepared to deflect an incoming spear blow, but with wild eyes realized Mars had yet to press his advantage.

The god had regained his footing, but there was caution. Ichor no longer dripped, but streamed out of the gash Percy had opened, although Percy could tell his skin was stitching back together already. Mars still held his spear and shield in front of him, still the frightening visage of a wrathful war god…

…but something was amiss.

No longer did Mars seem unbeatable, undefeatable. No longer did the shadows of his helmet hide his face, nor did his eyes glow an agitating red. The forced anxiety in the atmosphere, that anxiety that made any opponent weak in the knees, wasn't… Well, it wasn't there any longer.

He seemed weaker.

Percy launched forward once more, Anaklusmos buzzing with energy. Mars raised his spear and shield to match, and once again, sparks flew.

What neither had noticed was the fervor with which some of the Romans were watching the fight. Obviously, any deific battle was to be watched. But to see one of their own go toe-to-toe with a god, any god…

For some, this was Olympian heresy.

For others, this was akin to religious ecstasy.

The winds picked up a tad as Percy spun once more, getting inside the reach of Mars' shield - a quick jab with his free hand hit Mars in his jugular, his helmet getting shaken out of place. As Percy jumped back out of reach, Mars angrily pulled his helmet off, anger evident on his face.

Mars glared at Percy, pointing his spear at him.

"If you will not stand down, I will kill you. You know this."

Percy snorted, chuckling between deep breaths.

"You wouldn't sacrifice your children to kill me."

The pure hatred in Mars' eyes was evident. As Percy prepared to engage once more, Anaklusmos raised, he could see Mars slowly begin to shine, his divine form simmering to the surface. Percy chuckled.

"Couldn't beat me when I was 12, can't beat me now. That has to be embarrassing."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Mars sneered, the light dimming before it got too bright. "I haven't lost a fight in decades, you insolent demigod."

"Well, I suppose you were Ares, the first time."

A flicker.

Percy knew his eyes weren't deceiving him. They couldn't be, not at this moment.

He saw a flicker.

It wasn't a flash of hatred, or fear, or annoyance in his eyes. It wasn't an emotional beat. It was a physical flicker, like Mars' entire body glitched. As if somebody else had taken his place momentarily, suddenly displaced in the universe.

Mars seemed to shake, as if jolted by an electric shock. He growled in annoyance, that hatred slowly returning to his pupils.

"You dare -"

Percy chuckled, standing up straighter. "Is that what hurts? Calling you Ares?"

Another flicker. Another shock.

As if his Greek persona, shoved into the corner of the deity's mind, tried to fight his way to the surface when he was summoned.

The rebel demigod began to approach once more.

"You're scared, aren't you? A lowly demigod, still alive. Beating you. Ares." Percy spat out the name, vitriol behind every letter as the god flickered once more. "Fuck you."

Mars tried to thrust his spear, aimed at Percy's midsection, but Percy stepped aside the blow. Swinging Anaklusmos down, he chopped through the handle of the godly weapon, cracking it in two. Percy could've sworn he felt the energy shift, as if there was a surge in the air from the weapon snapping.

"Ares."

A flicker.

With a sneer, Percy grabbed forward, trying to latch on to the flow of the god's ichor, just as he had with Polybotes. Not to disintegrate him, just to hold him in place, slow his movements.

"Ares."

A flicker.

Percy readied his blade once more, poised to strike into the God's neck, to bite into immortal flesh.

"Ares."

A flicker.

The shuffling of ghostly feet was far more deafening than she ever envisioned was possible. She certainly didn't think it would be louder than the cries of the damned, nor as omnipresent so as to drive a man insane. She was quickly proven wrong.

Reyna was thrown out of the shadow of the castle wall, tumbling over and over on the gray dust beneath her. It certainly felt much longer than it took. The world was still spinning, vertigo quickly making itself known. Her skin felt flash-frozen, like she had been iced from her insides. Her chest felt constricted, and the sudden headache made her previous migraines look like minor inconveniences.

The puke came involuntarily.

Nico crouched next to her, noticeably unaffected from the shadow travel. He reached into his pocket, grabbing a small bag.

"Eat a few. They help, for whatever reason."

Reyna shook her head vigorously, thinking of Proserpina. "No… I won't…"

"They're just potato chips," Nico said, rubbing her back as she dry-heaved. "I swear."

With the spinning stabilizing, she realized he spoke the truth. With a dry chuckle, she popped them in her mouth, and soon felt warmth return to her skin.

With a final gasp, Reyna sat back on her haunches, finally engaging in her surroundings. Her odd, very foreign, surroundings. Gray dirt bled under gray grass, as if the world was devoid of saturation. There was no sky above her head, but a low-hanging cave ceiling, stalactites looming menacingly above them. They sat in front of a castle wall, bricks of ash and pumice towering upward.

It was with a sharp realization that Reyna realized the sound, the haunting sound, a low drone that seemed to permeate every level of the audio spectrum at once, pounding away at her eardrums as if trying to do damage. She clapped her hands to her ears, desperately trying to block the noise.

Nico spat on the ground before reaching into another pocket, producing earplugs. Reyna hurriedly grabbed them, shoving them into her ears. She sighed with relief, although she could still hear the shuffling of footsteps, millions of souls aimlessly wandering, bereft of purpose, absent thought.

Finally, her brain caught up.

Reyna surged back to her feet, grabbing Nico by his lapel, shoving him against the castle wall.

"What did you do?! Why did you bring me here?"

Nico remained calm, meeting her sudden fury with unnatural calm.

"I saved your life. Percy gave me a signal to evacuate you before the fighting began over your corpse."

"What… Nico, you need to take me back to New Rome. I cannot allow, Rome cannot allow the Underworld to kidnap it's Praetor! If Polybotes is still alive, I need to help!"

"Reyna, I'm not kidnapping you, I was saving you from the opening strike! Polybotes is dead! Listen to me!"

The Roman stepped back, breathing heavy, eyes narrowing. She unsheathed her gladius, holding it toward Nico. "Explain, now. And then take me back."

Nico raised his hands in a placating gesture. "I swear, I'm not lying to you, Praetor. I will take you back soon, I swear on the Styx. Percy began the third great war with his opening strike, and I grabbed you before you were killed in the crossfire."

"What… What are you talking about?" Reyna was more confused than she had been in a long time. "Percy was defying Olympus, he's dead by now."

"Did he look like someone that would go easily while fighting a giant?" Nico cocked an eyebrow. "Please, let me explain. Sit, please." He gestured behind her, where a chair of solid shadow - somehow - had materialized. Reyna took the offered seat with no small amount of caution, but it did hold her. Nico took a seat opposite her.

"Percy is defying Olympus, you're correct. Just as he did in the aftermath of the Second Titanomachy." He held a hand up, quieting Reyna's follow ups. "I need you to keep an open mind here, okay?"

Reyna nodded. "Fine."

"Percy is a Greek demigod. There is a camp of Greek demigods on Long Island, back in New York. While New Rome besieged Mount Othrys and fought Krios, the Greek camp defended Olympus during the assault. Kronos, Atlas, and some others were there. Percy defeated Kronos, but lost Annabeth - his girlfriend - in the final confrontation. That was the final straw, and he snapped."

"Greek, Kronos…" Reyna shook her head. "That's preposterous."

"I know. I know. But I can't blame him. Zeus killed his mother when he was younger, too. It's been… really rough for him. It just so happens that he's the strongest demigod of… well, perhaps ever."

"You're not making any sense, Nico. I respect you for the role you serve, but this fairy tale is just… ridiculous," Reyna said.

"My son… he speaks the truth," a booming voice announced.

Reyna turned suddenly, spooked at the sudden voice, one with enough power to instantly silence the shuffling of the damned, before hurriedly dropping to a knee, bowing her head.

"Lord Pluto," she offered, piously, before realizing what he had said. Questioningly, she raised her head. "My… my lord?"

There stood Pluto, deep black-and-purple robes resting on his shoulders, his Helm resting atop his head. His eyes were almost voidlike, but not in a menacing way - like they were simply part of the natural order. He held a bident in his right hand, but was using it almost like a cane to steady himself; not that he needed its help, but just as one puts their feet up on the table in front of them.

"Nico is correct," Pluto said. "Perseus and Mars will fight. I do not know the winner. I do not know if Perseus will survive, perish, or something in between. But if Perseus attacked now, then it means one thing…"

Pluto

"The Hemitheomachy is here. Come, Praetor, we have much to discuss."

Percy expected skin and ichor.

Not metal.

Nor getting rocked with an uppercut.

"You fucking punk!"

Percy felt his spine nearly hyperextend at the force of the blow, launching him upward into the air. Knowing what was to come from beneath him, Percy latched onto the wind around him, flinging him uncontrollably away from Mars. He thudded to the ground, an impact that he only briefly minimized before hitting dirt.

This time, though, he didn't have time to recover.

Percy only saw a flash of red before a sword was just inches away from his neck, a heavy broadsword that was only barely deflected by Anaklusmos - this time, moving damn near of its own accord, an impulse that Percy barely registered even making. But the broadsword didn't hit dirt.

It seemed to teleport. One moment, it was being deflected right, the next it was looming above his head once again, streaking down toward him.

Percy sent shockwaves of wind like thrusters from his palms, scorching across the dirty Field, desperately trying to create some distance. Heavy footsteps, boots that seemed to create shockwaves as they tore across the Field, followed quickly. Percy quickly changed directions, shooting upward into the sky, stabilizing himself after a couple airborne somersaults, twenty feet above the Earth.

Finally, Percy was able to realize what had happened.

"JACKSON!" Ares yelled, almost maniacally laughing. "GET DOWN HERE SO I CAN BUST YOUR FUCKING ASS!"

Percy spat on the ground below, sneering.

"Ares."

The god stood on the ground below him, glaring up at him. He wore a black leather jacket, chainmail coating the outside, while a huge broadsword - a deep red handle interwoven around the razor-sharp celestial bronze blade - rested against his shoulder. His aura was menacing, a deep crimson that was only indicative of rage. Whereas Mars was tightly controlled, perfectly outfitted, professional, the consummate soldier… Ares was pure, unadulterated chaos. Impulse. Rebellion. Anger.

Ares was just as he remembered. Cocky.

Percy let the winds beneath him soften, dropping slowly to the ground, before dust met the soles of his shoes once more. He cocked his head toward his new opponent, trying to rile up the Greek God.

"Wanted another crack at me, huh?" Percy chuckled, Anaklusmos pointed toward Ares. "Sorry, I missed last time."

Ares snarled.

"Don't think you're hot shit just 'cause you can fly, boy," Ares sneered. "I'll still squish you between my fingers."

Percy laughed.

"Your better half couldn't beat me, what makes you think you can?"

Ares swung his broadsword off his shoulder, a two handed grip required to lug around such a heavy sword - Percy knew any attempt at even deflecting it would go poorly for him, even with the augmentation of his blessings and curses. He could see the deep red handle seem to almost pulse, like a heartbeat of spilled blood.

With a heavy upward swing, Ares brought his sword in an arc, dislodging dirt and stones in one huge wave, sending it toward Percy. Percy raised his left hand, a burst of wind erupting from his palm, stopping the debris in its tracks - but it still obscured, at least momentarily, Ares' lightning-quick charge.

Percy was barely able to sidestep the powerful overhead slice, the air cracking from the speed of the attempted strike. The sword cut inches into the dirt as Percy turned toward the source of the shot, but was promptly punched in the face.

He staggered backward, the punch disorienting, and once again had to air-fling himself to the side to dodge a hidden dagger being stabbed toward his midsection. Feet skidding on the dirt, Percy swung with Anaklusmos, blade humming through the air. It clanged against Ares' broadsword, which had been ripped from the dirt without Percy even realizing.

Ares was fast.

Was the god this fast when Percy was 12? He didn't think so.

Percy dodged another overhead blow from Ares, this time quickly countering with a flurry of slashes from Anaklusmos, trying to push the god away from his once-more-embedded sword. He did, in practice, succeed - Ares was forced to deflect or evade the rapid blows, backstepping briefly.

In actuality, though, it didn't matter how close Ares was to his blade to summon it back to him.

Percy's jab was deflected by the sword - Ares had to have named it, he just had to - and Anaklusmos flew out of his hand from the sheer power behind the parry. A dodge backwards gave the demigod a bit more space, but that space was quickly eliminated by the blade.

It was a really fucking long blade, Percy was god began to laugh as the celestial bronze sat under the demigod's chin, tip pointing into Percy's neck.

"I've fucking waited for this, Jackson! You know that?" Ares chuckled. "Gods don't dream… but FUCK, I've been dreaming about this!"

Percy stared down the decidedly not-Greek blade, green eyes meeting red.

"Why didn't you come find me then, huh? I haven't exactly been hiding."

Ares spat at him, although the spit comically didn't reach him, falling on the blade instead.

"Shut it, punk."

With a twist and a flick, the flat edge of the blade caught Percy on his temple. Percy winced at the impact, falling to his side before catching himself. He felt a familiar weight find itself in his pocket once more, and gave a dark smirk.

"You'll have to kill me, you fuck."

Ares snarled, but charged, broadsword outstretched.

In a swift movement, Anaklusmos was uncapped, Percy was sliding like a baseball player in a play at the plate, and two blades had found themselves embedded in different materials.

The broadsword, in dirt. Anaklusmos, in flesh.

The god grunted as Anaklusmos found a home in his calf muscle, ichor beginning to seep out from the impalement. Percy, now unarmed for the second time in as many moments, rose up to press his sudden advantage, punching Ares' unprotected, unarmored jaw, sending the god's head spinning.

Grabbing Anaklusmos' handle, Percy wrenched it out of Ares' calf, hoping to cause as much damage as possible. Ares wasn't nearly prepared to succumb to the pain of one sword stabbing, though, and as Percy pulled, Ares punched.

This time, connecting with Percy's solar plexus.

Somewhat ironically, Percy had the wind taken out of his chest, and he stumbled, gasping for air, breathing large gulps into his lungs to try and expedite the process. Ares didn't - couldn't - press any potential advantage, holding his calf, hoping it would heal.

The two panted, trying to recover. Percy reached out to the still-flooding aqueduct, summoning water to his aid once more, but just as his focus latched on to water, his focus on the angry, vengeful god with a hatred for Percy was lost.

Percy was tackled by Ares, who had staggered over from his hunched position, seeking continued retribution. A punch connected with his skull, cracking his neck back briefly, but a counter right onto Ares' jaw led to a similarly sickening sound. Percy tried to sweep his leg around, hoping to irritate the god's recent wounds, but was only treated to Ares flinging his body weight onto the leg, pinning him in place.

A battle with divinity, reduced to a fight with the same composition as a fistfight between drunkards. Enough to rattle any congregation.

The two tumbled in the dust and the mud, desperately searching for the upper hand, fists flying and swords swinging wildly. This wasn't cool, collected, strategic warfare. This was much more chaotic. Mud coated both fighters' faces, like a quarterback spilled eye black on himself before a game.

Percy scrambled back, trying to put some space between the god and himself. He threw himself to the side, rolling to avoid another lunging attack from that damned sword, before feeling it.

Water.

Percy grinned, feeling strength return to his muscles, feeling energy burst up from the depths within. Ares jumped toward him, broadsword glinting in the sun, carving a path toward the tip of Percy's nose…

…until he was blasted sky high by a geyser.

Percy stood, supported by a pillar of water, strength back in his legs, sword clean once more at his side. Ares yelled as he crashed to the Earth, impact dislodging a huge cloud of dirt. Percy couldn't fathom why the God didn't just flash back down, but no matter.

Now was time for the offensive.

Percy crashed forward, a wave of water streaming from the aqueduct behind him, accelerating his charge toward the downed god, like a tsunami crashing upon a beach, the flash of his sword the whitecaps as the wave crests, sunlight glinting accordingly.

An arc of pure, unstoppable destruction.

Percy shot toward Ares, a bullet through the air, ice creeping up his blade, feet essentially hovering above the ground. Focused, mind clear with purpose, Percy pushed water out in front of him in one solid block, hoping to momentarily blind his godly opponent.

As Percy's wave met Ares' figure, Percy crashed down with Anaklusmos, a clean and true strike aimed at the exposed skin of his neck. Ares never saw it coming.

And yet, bronze met bronze.

A blind parry.

Percy snarled, a reflexive strike aimed for Ares' midsection immediately following.

A parry.

A flurry of strikes, one after another, Percy constantly advancing, Ares constantly backpedaling.

All parried.

Ares shot a fist forward, burying a body blow into Percy's ribs, shooting him backward, giving him space. Percy shot quickly-formed icicles back at the god, but to no avail, the spikes ricocheting off his jacket - apparently, more secure than realized. Ares laughed.

"YOU CAN'T BEAT ME JACKSON!" He cackled. "CAN'T EVEN COME CLOSE!"

"Fuck off, Ares."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Ares taunted, broadsword lounging on his shoulder once again. "Hurting your feelings?"

Percy shot a thin jet of air out of his palm once more, a concentrated blast aimed at the god's shoulder. He stepped lightly sideways, dodging it.

Ares chuckled. "Throw down your sword, let me beat the shit out of you, and then bring you upstairs. You might even live. That good with you, punk?"

"Never," Percy snarled.

"You won't beat me, Jackson. Not in any way that truly matters."

Percy began to hover, hoping to use the air to his advantage, the wind to fuel his next mad dash.

"I'm going to kill you." Dead serious. Matter-of-fact. Emotionless.

"You couldn't kill me if you were immortal, punk," Ares stated. "I'd just reform, you know that."

"I don't care."

Percy shot forward, sword slashing down, a powerful swing, hoping to separate the god's neck from his head in a shower of ichor. The blade, however, only met a sharpened blade, and the two were deadlocked amidst a brief shower of sparks. Ares was able to push Percy's blade a bit away from his neck, but instead of taking advantage of any potential opening, chose to taunt.

"You're nothing, punk."

"I've killed gods before," Percy snarled.

"Oh, shut up, Jackson. Whatever fantasy world Hera put you in wasn't real. You can't kill us."

Green eyes into red.

"I killed Dipsioi."

Percy saw it.

A flicker.

What's up, guys! It's good to be back. Luckily, I am employed post-grad! Unfortunately, it is in incredibly stressful, time consuming, and comes with high responsibility. This story is a fantastic way to blow off steam, that's for sure. I know this chapter is slightly... slightly shorter than the past few (this is my fault for adding words every time a chapter drops), but anything further would've ruined the flow.

Thank you all for continuing to read, follow, comment, etc. I still have notifications on! I'm excited for fall to hit in true fashion, excited for cider donuts, excited for some tailgates, and excited for Percy Jackson S2, whenever it drops. I hope this chapter makes your weekends a bit brighter, and I know your comments will improve mine. Safe travels, take care, and I'm hoping to have three more chapters out within the next couple months. I have renewed enthusiasm for my plans for Book 2, but I have to get there first, huh? Love you guys :)