Chapter Text
“The world is ending, we are doomed” or “ the gods have forsaken us!”. Each and every variation of those negative thoughts went through the minds of all demigods in the battlefield at least once. There was no escaping it; clouds were blocking any natural light source, New Rome’s defenses were decimated, people were dying by the second. And the worst of all?
The monsters never stopped coming. No matter how much they died, they always came back in an hour or two. It wasn’t uncommon to hear about someone in the battlefield that fought the same creature twice — whenever anyone could have an actual conversation, of course. The feeling of hopelessness and impending doom had already settled itself inside the hearts of those still fighting, that also applied to the trio currently resting after yet another horde.
Sitting closer to a makeshift bonfire was Tomás Flores, a son of Apollo that specializes in healing and medicine. Tomás was a young, tan man with blond short hair and heavily defined facial features. Unfortunately for him, the past hours were not kind to his appearance, so he wasn’t even close to looking as stylish as he wanted to be. For normal people, though, that only meant he was weirdly well taken care of, especially considering the situation at hand. Underneath all that existed only a scared teenager, who had seen more than his fair share of dead bodies and mangled — but still alive — companions, and aside from his older brothers, he was also one of those in charge of trying to keep them alive. Every time he failed, even if it was not his fault, it shook him to his core.
At the other side of the bonfire sat Tristan McClane, a son of Zeus with white skin, blond long hair and bandages all over himself. He was staring at a can of beans that was heating above the fire, waiting patiently, eager to eat something and distract himself from the memories of the battles he fought. In one of them, a few hours ago, Tristan was fighting a cyclops with the last of his strength, then he heard a terrifying noise. As ominous as the sound that came before it, a bronze dragon swooped in from the skies and breathed down fire all over the enemies lines, including the cyclops in front of him. Just as Tristan was still trying to process it all, two men jumped from the dragon.
While they were still falling, one of them turned into an armored elephant, then the other summoned the Little Tiber to break his fall and release a wave of destruction. Both of them ran towards the now opened path, fighting like two unstoppable beasts. It didn’t take Tristan even a second to recognize the heroes that had suddenly appeared. Leo Valdez, the praetor Frank Zhang and Percy Jackson, three of the mightiest demigods in this world. He had known them from word of mouth, as most demigods idolized them, and also because his sister accompanied them lots of times.
The last one from the trio was a son of Athena called Arsene. He had dark, short hair and used a very large trench coat, accompanying hazy gray eyes and a very tired face. Instead of resting, though, Arsene preferred to verify the integrity of every single weapon in the weapons box in this checkpoint. While he actually cared about those kinds of things, that was mostly his way of muffling the sounds coming from the battle and calming his mind. Considering the whole situation, Arsene kept himself mostly fine, which was both one of his strengths and one of Athena’s mental fortitude heirlooms. What bothered him most was the command formation being broken just as his older half-sister, Annabeth, disappeared about an hour ago.
Taking into account her overwhelming intelligence, he highly doubted she was in trouble, but that only meant that there was no more effective way of communicating safely. That severely irked his overly tactical Athena-child mind.
The three of them had no connection whatsoever, but even then it was the safest place to be in their minds. They had fought together, saw death together, saved each other so many times one could never take count. That kind of bond was almost unbreakable, so even the weirdest of companies was still more than welcome in such an apocalyptic scenario.
— Won’t this ever end?
Tristan complained and broke the silence, prompting the other two to look at him with sad faces. They agreed with him, but keeping the mood as stable as possible was better than sulking until they died.
— Nah, chill, man! — Tomás said with a calm voice, trying to sound as cool as possible. — It’s almost over, I can feel it.
— Sure, it really looks like it’s almost over, just not in the way we want it to be.
— Have a little faith.
Listening to Tomás’ clearly fake hope, Tristan sighed and got up, still waiting for the beans. He tried to stay silent as long as he could, as he knew how much the mood mattered in situations like this one. Even then, he couldn’t just shut up and bottle up what he had to say, it was simply unbearable.
— It’s funny, isn’t it? The romans are so proud about their armies and superior tactics, but where are they now? — he questioned impatiently. — We have to find out who is leading them, then take them out.
— Be my guest. — Arsene answered in a slightly sarcastic tone, trying not to sound so aggressive, as he understood Tristan’s points. — If it were so easy, we would’ve done it a long time ago.
— That’s true. — Tomás said while pointing at Arsene and shaking his head in agreement. — I just wish we could stop sending more people to fight, there’s almost no room left in the makeshift medic posts.
Clicking his tongue, the son of Zeus sat down once more, taking a piece of bread from the provisions and whistling, waiting for any kind of bird to answer his call. It didn’t take too long for a small jay to approach carefully, wary of any living things. A more attentive look revealed an injury in the bird’s wing, before it started to chirp while talking to Tristan.
— Oh, hello, my lord! I did not recognize you, I’m sorry.
He said while feeding on the crumbs of bread, finally letting his guard down.
— No problem, little fella, do you have any good news for me?
— I’m truly sorry, my lord, there isn’t anything new to report, you know exactly what is happening. — the jay chirped after he finished his meal, seemingly happy with being fed. — I wish I could be of help.
— Don’t worry, come closer, let me help you with that wing of yours.
Tristan gently offered his hand, carrying the bird closer to his lap so he could inspect the wound. It would be a small cut to any of the demigods present, but for a bird that size, it was a miracle the wing wasn’t split apart. Unfortunately, Tristan had no idea how to help, and he figured cutting a piece of cloth and improvising a bandage wouldn’t be enough.
— Hey, do you need any help with this little guy? — Tomás offered while approaching, already analyzing the wound. — I don’t know if there’s much I can do, but I’ll try.
— Can I trust this one, my lord?
The jay asked, wary and retreating backwards into Tristan’s hands.
— He’s weird, but yes, you can trust him.
— Look, man, I can’t understand the bird, but I can understand you.
Tomás slowly approached the jay, careful not to hurt him. While he looked at the wound and removed the excess of blood, Arsene and Tristan both realized the boy had no idea what he was doing. Tomás’ mind seemed to be going blank while trying to treat the bird, and it was almost funny to see. In an attempt to protect his ego, the boy started faking a complex process, but in the end he was only able to clean the wound.
— That’s all?
Arsene asked with a smirk, enjoying how nervous his companion looked.
— I’m more used to mammals, ok?
— Yeah, we noticed. — Tristan provoked smugly, also enjoying this moment. — Don’t worry, we won’t tell anyone.
While they bickered and discussed, the jay flew away slowly, saying his goodbyes to his lord. Noticing he was actually smiling even amidst the chaos of the battle, Arsene felt a good omen, as if hope wasn’t truly dead, not while he still had friends. After the ego fight between Tomás and Tristan ended, the trio sat down once more and started eating the now heated beans, enjoying in silence that moment, hoping they could have more moments like this.
Being the first one to end his food, Tristan heard two people talking while approaching, and whenever they got close enough to them, the conversation stopped. Appearing from behind the rubble was an Artemis’ huntress he knew well enough: his sister’s second in command, Reyna. That sight was more than welcome, as Tristan would never admit, but he had a giant crush on her.
— Hey, Tomás, did we die?
He asked his friend, who was confused by the question, but answered as best as he could.
— Don’t think so, your heart seems to be still beating.
— Why am I seeing an angel then?
— Oh, oh. — Tomás realized the joke, sighing and then looking at the huntress. — Yeah, she’s cute.
— What the-?
Tristan seemed to be bothered by his friend’s answer, looking at him with a frown. The son of Apollo, in turn, just seemed to be even more confused by that reaction. He didn’t say anything bad, did he? Before he could ask what was the matter, Reyna arrived, giving them the opportunity to see how bad she was faring.
It was no surprise to anyone: the strongest demigods were at the front lines, or at least close to them. It would be no different for someone as strong as Reyna, and that strength seemed to be taking its toll on her. She had heavy dark circles under her eyes, and was walking with a noticeable limp. Besides, her entire expression seemed to be one of severe exhaustion, but what scared Tristan was how worried she looked.
— Hey, come sit down, you don’t look so well.
The son of Zeus said while getting up and offering to help her sit, but she quickly waved it away and put her hand on his shoulder. Ever since he met her, years ago, Reyna always seemed to be living her best life, as if that was the best phase she could ever hope to have. To see her like this, so beat down, it stung.
— Thanks for the compliment, but we have to talk. — she said while sighing and motioning for them to move away a little, asking for privacy. Whenever they got a few meters away, she started to talk. — I need you to think hard about this, please. Have you seen Thalia recently?
— No… not since the war started, why?
— I feared as much… look, I don’t want to worry you, but none of the huntresses have seen her as well. In fact, even our other friends haven’t seen her. — Reyna said with obvious difficulty, as if her voice was struggling to leave her throat. — She probably didn’t tell you, and she will kill me for saying anything, but she left New Rome a few hours ago, took some huntresses with her.
— What? Why would she do that? Where did she go?
Tristan asked as patiently as he could, trying not to sound as desperate as he was, realizing that wouldn’t help any of them at that moment.
— They went on a special mission, tried to circle around the enemy forces because she was convinced she found their leader. I told her not to go but… you know your sister. — she sighed and looked away, looking ashamed, making Tristan think she felt responsible for whatever could have happened to Thalia. — It’s been hours now, and nobody has heard of her, I’m worried, Tristan.
If Reyna was still in the “worried” phase, then Tristan was already in the “total panic” one. Still, he tried as best as he could to look composed, looking at the horizon and sighing. With a smile, Tristan looked back at the huntress and answered as smugly as he could.
— Don’t worry, if something captured her, they should be trying to return her right about now. That girl just can’t shut up.
— No, you don’t… you don’t get it. — Reyna said, distressed and dismissive of his answer. — We were under a magic effect, sort of long-distance telepathy, but it broke. I should be able to talk to her even if she was behind the enemy lines, or I would know if something… worse, happened.
Even speaking of the worst made the two of them sweat in pure anxiety, dreading just how much they couldn’t ignore that option. Reyna and Tristan looked at each other for a few seconds, both of them feeling and thinking the same, but unable to say anything in fear of breaking the other’s hope. Instead of maintaining that, the boy decided to act.
— Okay, sure, tell me where she went.
— Wh-what? No, she will kill me if I send you there.
— I’ll just lie to her, say that I left on my own, I won’t put you in the line of fire.
— Thalia will never believe that, we both know it. — Reyna tried to convince him, staring at him as seriously as she could. When she saw the way he just smiled with that punchable face of his, though, she gave up. — Holy Artemis, I swear… ugh, do you at least have anyone to take with you?
Instead of saying anything, Tristan pointed backwards with his thumb, showing Arsene and Tomás in the background, still eating and resting. The huntress stared at them for a while, then looked at Tristan, still deep in thought. She crossed her arms and stood like that for quite some time, evidently questioning why she even entertained the idea of telling him all that.
— Tristan, listen. We both know your sister, she would take on Olympus to protect you, and we don’t want that to happen, do we? — she asked and the boy shook his head. — Good, we don’t. Therefore, promise me, if anything happens, and don’t even come at me with your “I’d win against anything” speeches, just run. Run away and come back here, I’m not sending you to save her, we just want to check on her, okay? I’d come with you, but…
— Nah, it’s better if you stay here and take care of yourself. — Tristan said while opening an even bigger smile, but this time one of confidence, as if he was saying that he could win against anything. — Just point the way, we will be back in no time.
After Reyna gave in and agreed, Tristan called on his companions, and they promptly got up and followed him. The four of them walked for a short time before reaching the ruins of a building, and the huntress took them to the middle of it, where she messed with a hidden contraption that half-opened a hole in the ground.
— We will take it from here. Go back and take care of yourself and your huntresses, they need you. — the son of Zeus claimed while seeing his two friends descend the stairs. — Don’t stay up too late waiting for me.
He said while raising his hand to try and mess with Reyna’s hair, but the demigoddess quickly grabbed his arm mid-motion.
— Don’t push it, Tristan, and remember: don’t die, we are trying to avoid a “Thalia against the gods” scenario.
— Tsc, someday you will give in to my charm. — the boy said while clicking his tongue and starting his descent. — Take care, Reyna.
— You are welcome to dream about it, little man. — the huntress laughed and watched the three of them get down before leaving herself. — You take care, too.
As the three demigods descended the long, winding spiral stairs, an ominous atmosphere enveloped them. Tristan, with his imposing stature and electric aura, quickly took the lead. His eyes glowed with determination, and his every step resonated with the need to save his sister. Tomás, the son of Apollo, followed closely, his presence casting a warm, golden glow on the steps. He carried his bow in a way that he could draw it as quickly as he could, wary of whatever they were doing.
Arsene was on the rear, his keen intellect evident in the calculating gaze of his owl-like eyes, attentively searching for dangers below them. The three of them encouraged each other with the simple action of looking confident, making the others try to also stand proud. Even if they knew deep down that the three of them were afraid, not showing it went a long way in that moment.
The initially dimly lit surroundings gave way to an oppressive darkness as they descended further. The ambient glow from Tomás' radiance struggled to pierce the thickening shadows. The air grew heavy with an unseen tension, as if the very darkness itself harbored malevolent secrets. With each step, the spiral stairs seemed to stretch endlessly into the abyss below. The echoes of their footsteps bounced off the walls, creating an eerie symphony that resonated through the encroaching darkness. The demigods pressed on, their senses heightened as they navigated the shadowy descent with an unspoken understanding that the challenges awaiting them would require their combined strengths.
And even while descending into the unknown, facing such heavy darkness, they heard something surprising: pure silence. There were no screams of rage and pain, no clangs of metal and no explosions far away, just silence. Being able to hear their steps didn’t feel like something normal, it confused them so much they felt as if their hearing was better than usual.
— Sooo… what is going on, pretty boy? — Tomás asked while trying to adjust himself to the lack of deafening noises. — Where are we going?
— The leader of the Artemis’s huntresses went missing.
Tristan intentionally left out the sister part of the explanation, assuming they knew her, but didn’t necessarily know about their relation, even if the “sons of the same god” part kind of gave it up, they could assume they weren’t that close, as most demigods of the same parent weren’t.
— Oh, Thalia? She must be fine, that’s a tough one to crack.
Tomás said even if he knew things were pretty difficult if they had to send novices to save someone as strong as her. Following the same line of thought, Arsene had an important question to make.
— I just don’t get why they would send you to help her. — he spoke calmly, trying to check if Tristan was offended or not. — No offense, though, but there should be people more fit for this kind of quest.
— Guess I’m just that handsome, then.
Tristan answered while shrugging and reaching the end of the stairs, prompting a subtle laugh to come out of Tomás and Arsene. Looking forwards into the hallway that appeared in front of them, they noticed it should have been used to move supplies, as it was large enough to fit two carriages. The worst part? It didn’t seem like it had an end. The good part? It was well-lit by torches, so they weren’t too worried about walking into the dark.
— I definitely won’t be spending my vacation here.
Arsene said while trying to raise the mood, but Tristan was too lost in thoughts. With each step he took, he remembered something different about Thalia, and how important she had been to him. Besides his grandmother, he only had his sister, and he valued family higher than anything else in his life. Grabbing a pine tree collar she had given to him when they met, Tristan subconsciously started walking faster, anxious to trace her steps.
— Hey, Arsene, that coat of yours is hella stylish, man, where did you get it?
He heard his companions talking behind him, and for a moment he came to the realization that he would have to protect them as well, as they were doing this after he asked them to.
— It was my sister’s gift, and by the way, you can call me Raoul.
— Pfft, sure.
Tomás answered while trying to hold his laughter.
— W-what? — Arsene sounded genuinely surprised, even a bit flustered. — What’s the matter?
— Nothing, Raoul , I just remembered a bad joke .
— By all means, share your joke, Tomás .
— Already forgot it, I heard it in a podcast before.
— Oh, you listen to podcasts? Which ones? — Arsene asked, trying to catch Tomás by surprise, attempting to make him confess his lies. — Or you also don’t remember that?
— I do, man, some cool ones I listen to while training after teaching archery to some kids back in the camp. — Tomás looked at Arsene with a smug smile, realizing what the boy was trying to do. — What about you, smart boy? You look like you would make a fine teacher yourself.
Arsene forced himself not to punch Tomás right then and there, preferring to go back to his quiet and cold state, but not without considering the boy’s words.
— I’m not the teacher type, unfortunately, but it sounds nice. — he answered while truly thinking about teaching something, although he realized most people didn’t find the history of art as interesting as he did. — Although, I just remembered our friend Tristan also teaches something.
— Yeah, swordsmanship, I like to teach kids how to protect themselves. — the son of Zeus reminded himself of his other set of good memories, as he really enjoyed teaching about swords. — Season isn’t going so well, though, not after some kid almost stabbed his own eye out.
After everyone stood in silence for an uncomfortable amount of time, Tristan felt the need to continue.
— Nothing happened, it was an “ almost”, okay? And we don’t have to talk about this right now.
Agreeing with him mostly after noticing how flustered he became, Arsene and Tomás stopped right then and there, walking the rest of the long way in silence, all of them enjoying another calm moment. Whenever the seemingly endless path ended, the three of them were presented with a lever in a wall, and nothing past it. No crevices, no locked doors, just a lever and nothing more.
Trying to analyze the environment for any kind of clues about traps, Arsene couldn’t reach a conclusion, but considered there shouldn’t be anything. Slowly reaching the lever and looking back, he saw his friends were as confused as he was, so he pulled it in a single movement, tense about what could happen. Instead of hearing the sound of gears and moving parts, though, they heard a single “pop!” sound, then an elevator music.
— Hello, you seem to have found a safe door, property of Leo Valdez & Big Jo’s magical safe doors! Name is subject to changes. — a voice seemed to come out of nowhere, startling the trio. — We thank you for your preference, and if anything breaks, please don’t hesitate and send us a message at the Waystation!
Sighing and feeling stupid for expecting something big, Tristan walked through the now-open path with his two companions, looking backwards after leaving only to see a stone wall from where they came. Even if he had his issues with artificers and magic engineers, he had to admit they were right: that was a safe door. Leaving that aside, they realized they were now in the middle of a forest, and it seemed to be as dead as the camp.
The air hung heavy with an unnatural chill, and a dense fog clung to the skeletal trees that loomed like silent sentinels, casting twisted shadows on the barren ground. Tristan, Tomás, and Arsene exchanged uneasy glances as they ventured into the desolate expanse. The forest, once teeming with vitality, now stood as a lifeless monument to some ancient, unspoken tragedy. The branches above seemed to claw at the darkness, their skeletal fingers creating a macabre tapestry against the obscured sky.
The once vibrant colors of the flora were drained, leaving behind a monochromatic landscape that exuded an aura of decay. The silence that enveloped them was broken only by the distant, mournful howls of the wind, weaving through the lifeless branches like a ghostly lament. A palpable sense of foreboding gripped the demigods as they navigated through the gnarled trees, so Tristan decided to do something risky.
Focusing on his control over the wind, he started to fly, going over the treetops and looking around for anything out of the ordinary. The only thing he saw was a radio tower, not so far from there. If they were lucky, maybe the huntresses left some clues there, and he thought he was already fortunate for not seeing any monsters. Returning to ground level while spinning and lying down floating in the air, Tristan relayed the news to his colleagues.
— We’re going to the radio tower, then?
— Yes, seems to be the only option. — Arsene said after listening to Tristan. — Besides, if we find anything before we get there, we are lacking in the “leads” department.
Preparing for combat, Arsene focused everything on his instincts, ready if anything approaches. As for Tomás, he once more detached a small piece of his soul, sculpting it and refining until it eventually took the form of a small cat, his very own familiar. For about a minute or two, the trio couldn’t leave the area, as Tomás took his time to play with the feline. Eventually, after he got satisfied, he took another set of sunglasses from his pack and placed it in the cat’s face, who in turn seemed to be happy with it.
They walked through the forest with their guards up, scouting for any sign of life, eager to see anything, as everything looked so dead it made them feel unwell, and equally afraid, because it could very well be an enemy. As the treetops seemed to become denser by the minute and their vision was slowly becoming impaired, they heavily considered lighting something up and transforming it into a torch, but decided against it, preferring to not “light up a beacon” as Arsene placed it.
When they were dangerously close to the radio tower, Arsene suddenly felt chills creeping up his spine, a sign that the magic he used was working. He couldn’t pinpoint the precise locations of whatever was activating the magic, but he noticed the direction was towards the radio tower. If they didn’t have a strong reason to go there before, they have now. After approaching stealthily, they finally saw how the ground level was.
A fence covered with tarp surrounded the area entirely, except for two openings: one right in front of them and one in the back. They still couldn’t see any enemies, and that scared them.
— Listen: here’s the plan, I go through the front door, the two of you go back around and take down the enemies that I’ll distract, ok?
Tristan said confidently, much to the shock of the other two.
— That’s a terrible plan, Tristan. — Arsene said bluntly, waiting to see if that would make his companion change his mind, but apparently going nowhere. — But if you are so confident, go on, we will sneak around.
— I’m always confident, worry about yourselves.
Arsene and Tomás sighed at the same time, wondering what to do to save him whenever the worst happened. Without trying to argue further, the two of them crouched and started going around the fence, then Tristan went to the front door while whistling. In truth, he knew how bad of a plan that was, it was purely out of impulsiveness. If it was just a case of wanting to show off, he could do it in a smart way, no doubts about it, but this? Not even Tristan knew why he felt the need to rush through the front door.
Anger? Wanting to distract himself so badly he would risk his life? Maybe one of them, maybe both and something else, although that didn’t matter now. What mattered was the sudden growl he heard to his right. Even if he could react in a fraction of a second, whatever attacked him was even faster, throwing him to the ground and biting his shoulder. Tristan used both his legs to kick his attacker right on the chest, giving him space to get up and see what was it.
With a human body and a dog head, the creature in front of him was dressed in leather armor and wielded a small ax. He didn’t remember exactly the name of this species, but that wouldn’t matter, Tristan knew he could win.
— Bad dog!
The boy provoked while looking at his wound, relieved it wasn’t as deep as he feared. Still, it hurt a lot. Stretching his hand to summon his sword, Tristan almost jumped back after he saw an arrow suddenly crossing his view and hitting the creature. Looking to where it came from, he saw Tomás, crouching and drawing another arrow.
— What about the damn plan, man?
Tristan complained while summoning a bolt that hit his hand, transforming slowly into a large katana made of imperial gold, decorated with the head of a white lion in the handle. While the bolt was still taking the shape of the weapon, though, he was already rushing to attack the creature.
— I heard fighting, I thought you needed help! — Tomás explained himself while shooting the creature in front of him. — And judging by the state of your shoulder, I think I’m right.
Identifying a breach in the monster’s guard, Tristan dashed forward in a flash, cutting and scattering his foe to golden dust. Taking a fighting stance, he and Tomás both looked around while searching for more enemies, finding another two lurking around, probably trying to flank the duo.
— Hark, Tristan, why dost thou summon me to do battle 'gainst such feeble adversaries? Hast thou not blades more fitting for a task so mundane, one befitting commoners?
A voice echoed inside the son of Zeus’ mind, making him remember one of the unique traits of his weapon: inside it rested the soul of an ancient English hero, Lancelot. He had no idea if it really was the real hero, although he never actually had the curiosity to search more thoroughly.
— Not now, Lancelot. — Tristan ignored his talkative sword, looking at one of the creatures and smiling. — Hey, you two, come on! This is too easy.
— Tristan, DODGE!
Suddenly, he heard Arsene scream from the other entrance, and he just listened without questioning, seeing a bolt fly across where he was. Looking back at the creatures, he saw one of them was hiding a hand crossbow, now looking frustrated he missed his sneak attack. Thankful, Tristan nodded to Arsene, then the swordsman rushed to the creature that almost seriously injured him.
Swinging his sword in an horizontal slash, he wounded the monster’s shoulder, taking an opportunity to lunge at him, this time hitting the chest. Jumping backwards and readying his ax, the creature growled, but was evidently worried.
— Since I’m in a good mood, I’ll give you a one-time offer. — the boy said with his guard still up, also taking the opportunity to check if his friends were doing well. Judging by the fact he heard no screams, only flying arrows and metal clangs, it seemed like everyone was doing just fine. — Tell me who your boss is. You do that, we let both of you live, ok?
Already waiting for the attack, Tristan knew the creature would only become angrier by the way he said it so arrogantly. Following the same movement he trained thousands of times, the boy dodged with a calculated side step whenever his foe jumped at him in a blind rage. Counter attacking with lethal precision, his target quickly scattered to golden dust.
— Thou art a craven, youngling, a craven I declare! Such nefarious stratagems doth disappoint mine eyes, witnessing a once promising warrior descend into dishonorable conduct.
— It’s not my fault if they always fall for it. — Tristan answered while shrugging. — Besides, he started it with the crossbow trick.
Taking Lancelot’s silence as agreement, he smiled and ran back to his companions, just in time to see an unexpected scene.
— Oh, no! Behind you, doggy!
Arsene screamed in fake terror, making the monster look backwards just in time to be shot in the knee by one of Tomás’ arrows, then what came after caught everyone by surprise. The small orange cat that Tomás summoned ran to the creature, jumped at his face and slashed his claws dozens of times, and in no time that monster turned into golden dust as well. Shocked, Tristan watched as Tomás approached the cat in a hurry, smiling from ear to ear.
— Holy Athena, what did you train this little fella for?
Arsene said while frowning and watching the small orange cat lie down on the ground with his belly up, already expecting to be pet by his owner.
— He can do anything! Can’t you, Simba? Of course you can, you are the best boy ever! — Tomás emphasized the last part with a childish voice, playing with the cat in joy. — Are you the strongest, most stylish boy in the world? Yes, yes you are!
Almost ready to unsummon his katana, Tristan looked at the small building just underneath the radio tower. It was probably where some machines were placed, but what caught his attention was the half-open door with a bloodstain. Approaching silently, he saw the bloodstain was human hand shaped, so he snapped his fingers to call his companions, and they saw the same thing as he did.
Once more, instead of making a plan, Tristan just opened the door and entered the building in a hurry, whistling. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw another pair of eyes, who in turn watched him and looked away slowly. Because of the darkness, it was very hard to see, so he approached it with his guard up. It didn’t take too long for him to recognize the clothes the person was wearing.
Lying down on the ground with a gruesome wound on her chest, an Artemis’ huntress was struggling to keep her consciousness. Noticing Tristan approaching, she looked at him wide-eyed, opening her mouth to say something, but failing every time. She was on death’s door, so the boy urgently tried to see what he could do. Watching the wound closely, it was something he never saw before. Instead of blood or whatever liquids could be leaking out of a wound that stretched from one side of her chest to another, he noticed a slimy, black silt was coming out of it. It seemed to be getting worse by the second, as if she was being corroded from inside.
— Tomás, please, is there anything you can do?
He called on his companion with evident anxiety in his voice, already nervously sweating. Tomás approached with a worried look, inspecting the wound closely. When he finished his process and looked at Tristan with a sad face, the son of Zeus didn’t even want to listen to what he would say, but he listened nonetheless.
— Sorry, Tristan, the wound is afflicting her soul, not just her body. — the boy said with sadness and a hint of anger in his voice. — There’s nothing we can do.
— T-tris… tan… — the huntress said while placing her hand on the swordsman’s shoulder, urging him to listen to her. — Thalia… in the tomb… danger…
Noticing how hard it was for her to say that, the boy felt horrible for making her last moments so tense. Recomposing himself, he tried to keep that information for later, right now someone needed him. Smiling as sincerely as he could, Tristan tried to comfort the huntress.
— Hey, it’s ok, thank you for fighting so hard. You can rest now.
Helping her lie down in a more relaxed position, the boy stood with her until she stopped breathing, losing himself in fear whenever he realized he saw Thalia’s face in the body. It’s not her, he thought, but what if…
No. No what ifs, not right now. He would deal with whatever happened whenever he needed to deal with it, there’s no time to suffer in anticipation. Making sure the huntress' body was lying in a dignified way, they left the building and sat down outside, where Tomás insisted he had to take care of Tristan’s wounds. The trio didn’t say anything until they were already close to leaving, as all three of them were thinking about that death. None of them knew that girl, it was but one more face to the death toll. Even then, that was enough to make them remember what was at stake.
— See, Tristan? I am a good doctor, just not a good veterinarian.
Tomás said jokingly, making the other two smile and roll their eyes.
— Sure, Tomás. — Arsene dismissed him and decided to tell their friends what he remembered. — Listen, when that girl said something about a tomb, I didn’t know which one she could be talking about, unfortunately there are quite a lot of tombs in this world. Thankfully, though, I am a smart man, so I remembered there is one quite close.
— That’s good news, right? — Tomás cheered his companion, but quickly saw him frown. — What? What did I say?
— No, it’s nothing you said, it’s just… — the son of Athena looked to be getting more worried by the second, but eventually said what he had to say. — It’s supposed to be ruined by now, so there’s a high chance we won’t find what we are looking for.
— But it’s our only clue, right?
Tristan asked and Arsene confirmed with a nod, although an uncertain one.
— So that’s that, we are leaving right now.
— Are you sure you don’t want to rest? That was a pretty bad wound.
— Nah, I’m fine, really. — Tristan shrugged and slapped his own shoulder, holding in a grunt of pain. — Worst case scenario, we fight an undead, right?
— Not all tombs are inhabited by undead.
Arsene sounded close to offended, seemingly bothered by his companion’s hasty conclusion.
— Why would you inhabit a tomb if you aren’t an undead? — Tomás said as if he were destroying Arsene’s argument. — Doesn’t look like a good place to live.
— Yeah, but creatures don’t… — Arsene started his answer, but eventually sighed and gave up. — Sure, man, sure.
After leaving the ominous radio tower behind, the trio of demigods ventured once more into the heart of the lifeless forest, the once-barren trees now looming overhead like twisted specters. The oppressive darkness had intensified, and the air crackled with an unsettling energy that seemed to feed on the desolation surrounding them. They weren’t sure if that was actually happening or if their minds were just filled with dread.
As they pressed forward, the gnarled branches overhead formed a skeletal canopy, blocking out what little light remained in the forest. The silence, once haunting, now hung thick in the air, broken only by the hushed whispers of the wind weaving through the leafless boughs. The demigods tread carefully, their senses alert to the heightened danger that lurked in the shadows. The forest floor now seemed to pulse with an unnatural energy. The very ground beneath their feet seemed to resist their advance, as if the malevolence that had consumed the once-living woodland sought to repel any intruders. The air itself felt charged with an otherworldly tension.
Their destination loomed in the distance — a tomb in the ground, surrounded by an aura of ancient mystery. The path leading to it twisted and turned through the dense thicket, as if the forest itself conspired to test the mettle of those who dared to enter its heart. Arsene, ever vigilant, led the way with a determined gaze, his owl-like eyes scanning the shadows for any signs of the approaching danger. Before they could get any closer, Tristan stopped walking.
— Wait a minute, I… I need to do something.
Scanning his pockets and grabbing his lighter, the boy started a small fire, then grabbed his last few supplies and burned them. Silently reciting his prayers, Tristan wished only for his father to give them a sign that they were still watching, as no god had appeared ever since the battle started. Even if a demigod cursed their divine parent in their dying breath, nothing happened, not even as a sign of rage steaming from the disrespect. Not even Ares — or Mars — gave his bountiful blessings to his children, which was surprising during times of war, where the god supposedly thrived.
Tristan never asked anything of his father, never, but just this once… just this once he wanted an answer, small as it could be. So, he waited and waited, watching the minutes fly by. The clouds were charged, but no bolt hit the earth, it was as if the forest’s silence drowned out even his prayers. Saying he was disappointed would be an exaggeration: he never expected his father to listen to him, Tristan only wished he would do it once. But, as he knew, gods were gods, unchanging, eternally dismissive.
— Sorry, let’s move, I delayed us too long.
The son of Zeus said and put out the fire, walking quickly towards the tomb. When he was about to climb down the hole in the wall Arsene pointed at, he felt a light breeze helping him move. It definitely wasn’t him, and didn’t feel like a natural breeze, but he didn’t want to raise his hopes, as it could be anything. Still, a small part of him was thankful, as his father could still be out there listening.
The trio climbed through the hole and found themselves inside a hallway. The stone walls were mossy and cracked, and some parts were oozing out the same black silt from before. As a cruel finishing touch, the smell was close to unbearable, almost making Tomás puke once. Fortunately, at least it was well-lit, as torches were lighting the way for them to follow. For Tomás and Tristan? That was a good sign, but as for Arsene? He feared whatever put those torches there.
— Hey, you two, can you promise me something? — Tristan said with a determined, yet sad voice. — If anything happens inside, could you guys take everyone out and leave? Even if I stay behind.
— Holy Athena, you really are a fool.
— Yeah, Tristan, what are you thinking? — Tomás pushed his companion’s good shoulder, frowning at him. — Stop with your hero complex, man. We are getting everyone out and we are all leaving, ok? No one is staying behind.
— I’m being serious, please, promise me.
— No way , and I’m pretty sure Tomás is also being serious. — Arsene seemed almost as annoyed as the son of Apollo. — If you keep on fighting with the heroic sacrifice mindset, what will you achieve? Stop looking for a place to die with meaning, and instead search for somewhere to live and create meaning.
— I don’t think I get it.
— One day, when you take your head out of the clouds, maybe you’ll understand what I mean.
Although Tristan still wanted to insist on making them promise, he noticed his friends were as hard-headed as he was. If it came to that, he knew they would make the right choice, at least Arsene would. As much as Tristan didn’t want to admit it, he was a smart guy, worthy of a son of Athena.
Walking through the rest of the hallway, the demigods reached the end: a big round door, with three circles on each side. One circle on the left, one on the top and the last one on the right of the door. All three circles had four other circles inside, like a dial. Each one of the three medium circles had a golden highlight, as if they had to fit the chosen small circle there. The first small circle had the figure of a man, adorned in greek clothes, fighting something colossal. The man had a bolt in his hands, so they figured that one out quickly.
The second one was the figure of two people fighting a third person. This third person had a dark aura around him and was pointing a knife to himself. The third small circle had the drawings of a dragon raising a woman to the skies by its claws, and a boy was holding on to both of them with fire on his hands. Each of these three were fairly easy to understand the meaning: Zeus against Kronos, then Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase against Luke Castellan, and the last one was Leo Valdez taking down Gaia.
The fourth circle, however, was impossible to understand. Instead of a mythical event in history, it was simply a drawing of a girl with black and golden hair, and two black dots in place of her eyes. She had no expression and wasn’t doing anything, she was just there. Even if it was simple, it creeped them out.
— Something is wrong…
Arsene said while analyzing the door as a whole.
— What? The drawings?
— Nah, the first three are actually quite easy to understand, just the last one is confusing me. But that’s not it. — the boy looked around and dragged his finger through the door, looking at the dust that came with it and frowning. — There wasn’t a door here, not on the records. Neither was a puzzle…
— Probably courtesy of the new resident?
— Yeah, could be.
The son of Athena decided to not think too hard about it, just analyzing the drawings once more and figuring out how the dial worked. If he moved it clockwise, the circles would move and another one would fit in the golden slot. He tried to think about the correlation, and the only thing that came into his mind was: the first three are the past, then the fourth is the future? Shrugging and deciding there wasn’t anything better to base himself on, Arsene fit the first three small circles into the golden slots, smiling proudly when the door vibrated in response.
All that was left was to push it, as it started to slide like the door was made out of paper, and not tons of stone. Congratulating him, the other two followed Arsene into the next room, but something was bothering Tristan, so he decided to look back. When he saw the door again, he noticed something weird: the symbol of the girl with black and golden hair was missing, like it was never there to begin with. Before he had the chance to say something to his companions, he saw someone was already waiting for them in the middle of the room.
The room itself was like a tower, it had three floors and hundreds of open coffins on each floor. Torches lit with red flames were the only source of light for that environment, and that stink of death only increased. Readying themselves for battle, they saw the person in the middle was extremely intimidating. He was clad in full golden armor, had a shield that was almost as huge as himself and wielded a sword so large it could cleave the three of them in half in a single motion. The person was staring at the ceiling, so the only characteristic they could see was long dark hair, tied in a bun.
— Hey, weirdo, are you going to stare at the ceiling the whole day?
— Oh, I’m sorry, I seem to have lost myself in thoughts again. — the man sighed and looked backwards, and they saw his expression full of sadness. He seemed to be Japanese, and looked to be in his late thirties or early forties. — It’s just so awful, don’t you think? How the gods stood silent even while dozens of kids and adults alike died like flies. We are their kin, shouldn’t they care a little more? What parent needs a reason to protect their children? They simply won’t change, they never change, even if we force their hands.
— Jeez, are those your last words or something? — Tristan said while summoning Lancelot and walking forward. — Hatred to the gods, the whole “they were unfair to me” kind of speech? Are you feeling special?
— You must be Tristan, am I right? — the warrior said while looking at the son of Zeus with grief in his eyes. — I suppose the three of you wouldn’t accept the chance to go back, you are still in the impulsiveness phase. Such promising young men, you don’t have to die here.
— We ain’t the ones dying here, old man.
Tomás took a step forward this time, drawing his arrow and readying himself to shoot at a moment’s notice.
— And you are Tomás, so the one in the back must be Arsene. I understand your convictions, I won’t be able to save you, it seems, but I will avenge you. — his face suddenly distorted, and the man started to shrink until he was about Tomás’ size, then his appearance changed in a moment. — I am truly sorry, it wasn’t supposed to be like this, this wasn’t my choice to make.
The trio was too stunned to hear the warrior’s apologies, as they realized the change in looks made him look — and speak — exactly like Reyna, as if the huntress was right in front of them.
— Is that your biggest trick? Stealing appearances? Seen better.
— And much more. Again, I’m sorry, the three of you weren’t supposed to get here, it seems like fate toyed with us once more.
— I really am not getting you, what is your deal? Destroying the gods? Making them pay for your life being shitty?
— It seems like you are misunderstanding me. I do not seek to destroy the gods, it simply would not work. — the warrior said with Reyna’s voice, and that bothered even the two that didn’t know her that well. — The flames of civilization are uncontainable, it’s the kind of power that will not cease to exist like this. I seek to find a way to stop them interfering with this world of ours, stop the endless prophecies and wars, as they have no reason to exist other than to make us pay the price of their hubris.
— So why are you killing the demigods back at camp?
Tomás screamed angrily, itching to release the arrow right to the man’s face.
— I am not responsible for that, young man. I am not fighting my own kind. There are primordial forces at play here, strong enough to silence the gods, make them blind to our dealings. That is the moment I waited for, the only way to act without divine punishment. — he seemed to be anxious just talking about this matter, confusing the trio. — Please, consider it, if you go back and stop the war, fight until you almost die dozens of times, what will you have after so much death? A simple pat on the back by the gods, a meager “thank you” and nothing more. They do not care, they do not feel what we feel. I can’t let a world like this go on, not if I want to see my daughter happy.
— And who are you in this? The hero?
— I do not need to be the hero, Tristan, I am just the one taking action.
— You talk really big, you know that? You try to make it seem like you understand our afflictions, our fears, but you don’t know me, neither do you know my friends. We are not here for the gods, we are here to take you down and rescue the ones we love. — Tristan claimed while raising his sword and pointing it at his foe. — Although you talk of noble intentions, I see through your lies, you are not fighting for us. Since I’m in a good mood, I’ll give you a one-time offer. You kneel before us and surrender, then we won’t kill you, ok?
— Heavens, I almost forgot how prideful the sons of Zeus are. We will do it your way, Tristan. — grabbing his sword, the warrior placed it above his shoulder, ready for battle. — You three are pure, with golden hearts, so I will give one more chance. Do not fight, return to where you came from.
Seeing the trio take arms and approach him, the warrior sighed and clicked his tongue, making a sign with his free hand and pushing it towards them. Out of a sudden, the three demigods felt like a wave of energy hit them, slowing their movements down to a crawl.
— Don’t lose focus, I will see through his powers, do not worry.
Arsene said and comforted the other two demigods, who rested their hopes on him. As fast as he could, Tristan summoned electrical shock in his fingers and put his hand on his chest, sending a discharge of energy that temporarily hastened his heartbeats. As for Tomás, he released the arrow and sent it straight to his target. With a single move, the warrior grabbed the arrow mid-air and broke it in half as if nothing happened.
— I recommend you back off, Tomás.
The warrior said while glaring at the young archer, that felt himself trembling with that imponent stare, almost considering his words after seeing how his attack did nothing. Before he could think of pulling another arrow, he saw Tristan rushing forward, but what happened next shocked both him and Arsene.
— Sleep.
The man said with a voice so heavy it felt like the space was being distorted, and when they looked at Tristan, the sound of Zeus was already on his knees, rolling his eyes with unbearable sleepiness. Stunned by the sudden scene, they couldn’t even react, only having time to see their friend falling forwards, unconscious after a single word.