Sounds interesting. Can't wait

Really weird...I know. But hope you like it, anyways!
---
Prologue
Luke thinly smiled. “Only my hand, Percy. He’ll—”
He choked, and was suddenly surrounded in an aura of golden light. I stepped back, the bronze knife clattering out of my hand. Luke howled, his face twisted in pain. He literally began burning away.
I hobbled over to Annabeth, who was breathing faintly by this point. Grover looked like he was about to faint as he stammered, “I-I knew th-that w-we should h-h-have ran the o-other w-w-w-way...”
“What’s happening?” I whispered. Annabeth’s eyes cracked open as she gripped my hand and murmured, “We lost. Kronos is right about in his own body at this point. We’re dead.”
“Way to be optimistic,” Grover whispered, biting his lip, his goat legs quaking. “But true. We’re dead.”
Kronos bellowed in victory as he stepped out of the vortex of blazing light. Luckily for us, he wasn’t in his true form—we would have been incinerated. Sadly, I knew that he would convert to just that form in a couple minutes, possibly seconds.
He sneered at us and a blast of golden light rippled throughout what remained of Olympus. I was pushed to the floor as the glow washed over me and somebody outside the throne room yelled, “What in Styx?”
When I could see again, Thalia had been tumbled ungraciously into the throne room along with us, ruffled but apparently unharmed. Annabeth, too, had been cured of her injuries. I staggered to my feet and stared at Kronos, who merely looked at me as if I were an annoying gadfly. He flicked his fingers and I flew backwards into the wall. Annabeth screamed, “No!” as Kronos leisurely strolled towards me as if he were taking a walk through Central Park. “The gods shall be here soon,” he chortled, “and they shall witness their defeat! I will kill the hero of the prophecy, and therefore, conquer the world!”
“Even you know that prophecies can’t be prevented,” I said as I felt Riptide reappear in my pocket. I staggered to my feet and drew my sword. “The Fates don’t allow it.”
Kronos laughed horribly. “The Fates! Ha! It was their mishap that landed you in this place today! They tangled the threads of fate, and the threads of time! The prophecy is finished, and you shall die with it!”
My heart turned to ice as Kronos smirked at my midsection. He knew where my Achilles’ spot was. Nobody could stop him. If what he said was true, than I was truly over and done with. I knew it, but I had to try.
“Percy!” Annabeth yelled as she charged towards Kronos—at least, she tried to. I shook my head vigorously at her. “Annabeth, don’t. Guys!”
Grover and Thalia grimaced, but they grabbed Annabeth by the arms and hauled her back. “Not today, you won’t,” Grover murmured to her. “You’re not going to die today.”
“What’s your problem?” Annabeth yelled. “Percy’s going to die, and you’re just letting him? Percy!”
Kronos was looking on to the scene, amused. “One more minute to say your good-byes, Jackson. One more minute of life.”
I looked at Annabeth’s tear stricken face, and Grover’s quivering lip. Thalia was taking shaky breaths, looking at the ground. She muttered something under her breath and glared at me, her eyes saying: Get over here and come on before I beat the Hades out of you.
“Run,” I told them. “You won’t last a second. Annabeth, you’ve got to listen. Please. Do it for me.”
“No!” Annabeth said. “If you’re going to die, I’m dying along—”
“Annabeth!” I said, gritting my teeth. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’ve got to go!”
Thalia scowled at Kronos, who glared at her and impatiently tapped the butt of his scythe against Poseidon’s throne. “Annabeth, as much as I loathe leaving Percy like this, he’s right. We have to go. Maybe one day….” She blinked, as if she didn’t know what she was saying. “We’ll get you back from the Underworld if you die.”
Grover bleated. “Percy, you’re insane.”
“Demigods do insane stuff, right?” I asked as I raised my sword with Kronos swinging his scythe towards me. “Go! And hurry!”
Grover and Thalia dragged a yelling Annabeth out of the throne room and ran for it. Grover was saying something like: “…Elevator’s inaccessible. I don’t know…”
I closed my eyes and said, “This is for you, Annabeth.” Then, I charged.

very interesting! And percabeth incredibleness!

Loved it

=) Sounds great so far! You're a really good writer.

hey, great story so far! but you have to post a new one till the end of this round! ok

Awesome Chapter Post Soon!!!

...And, she's literally dead to Microsoft Word.
Yes. Me, can't get the first freaking chapter of this! My mom blocked my account!

it was great post soon

Post soon! this is really good!

love it! post soon!

r u going t pos agian???

I

The streets are dark and dank, smelling of mold as I run down a path alongside what used to be some place called Central Park. I slow down into a heavy tread, scuffing my sneakers along the rough concrete.
Ever since the “Lord of Time”, as he called himself, had come into power about twelve years ago, things have gone downhill for the major population. Many of us could barely scrape by with the meager amount of change that we earn for working our butts off. The “Lord of Time” was a good-for-nothing brute that cared for absolutely nothing about his citizens.
Our history teachers say that at the beginning of his “long and prosperous” rule, some boy called “Percy Jackson” tried to prevent the Lord of Time from starting his “dynasty”, and miserably failed, dying at the end. A bunch of baloney, I had thought.
“Hey, dad, I’m home!” I call as I push the door open. I am greeted with uncomfortable silence.
“Hello?” I uncertainly ask, cautiously venturing into my suddenly ominous house. “Dad? Michael? Anybody there?”
A set of heavy footsteps descend down the stairs as Michael appears, his eyes drooping as he yawns hugely. “Dad’s out. He’ll come back sometime later.” He slides down the banister of the stairs. “How was your day, Air Head?”
I scowl at him. “For the billionth time, it’s Sean.”
Michael shrugs. “Your head is full of fluffy clouds. You got an average of a D– on your final exams last year.”
“Exams, who cares?” I snap. “Nobody’s gonna get a good job after they finish high school or college—whether they have an IQ of one million or negative five hundred. Exams don’t matter to anyone anymore.”
Michael opens his mouth to make a retort but never gets there. A heavy wooden arrow sprouts in his neck and he falls, his eyes glazing over as Death claims him. My mouth drops open in astonishment and bewilderment as a figure cloaked in black storms in, an arrow loaded in his bow, pointed straight towards my heart.
“Hurry up,” he snaps. “You’re wanted for questioning.”
He gestures with a long, tapered white hand and a limp body is tossed into the room. My mouth turns dry as I recognize the lifeless form of my father. I turn on him furiously. “You didn’t have to kill everybody I love to bring me in for questioning!”
The boy seems to glare at me and orders, “Bring him to me.”
My brain does not comprehend what he said until a pair of rough hands unceremoniously grabs me, tucking me like a briefcase under his right crook of his arm. A gag is stuffed into my mouth and another figure ties my hands behind my back.
“Let go of me!” I attempt to say, but it comes out more like: “Mm hmm hm mm!”
I am folded straight into an open window of a car, nearly breaking my backbone in the process. Somebody rips the gag out of my mouth, leaving a funny taste of mold behind. I spit out, staring down at a pair of shiny black shoes.
“Well,” a silky voice purrs. “What do we have here…Omega?”
Omega. That word rings a bell in my head…one of the letters in the Ancient Greek alphabet. A gruff voice answers, “A potential threat.”
“Threat?” the voice asks. “Threat? I do not see any threat here. I see a half-unconscious boy that is choking at my feet.”
“But sir,” Omega says nervously, “we think that he has a connection to the Resistance…”
“Bah!” the man snorts in laughter. “Wild boars will fly.”
“They already have, sir,” Omega murmurs and adds hastily after the man appears to glower at him, “With the utmost respect, sir.”
The man turns his attention back towards me and scowls. He hooks his fingers underneath my chin and lifts it, examining every inch of my face and snarls in contempt. “You told me that there weren’t any more,” he hissed at Omega, who shrinks into the shadows. “You told me that they have all gone into hiding!”
“S-s-sir,” Omega stammers, “if you would allow me to explain—”
“Bah! Explain? What am I going to tell the Lord of Time?”
Omega hurries to explain before he is beheaded. “All of them have indeed gone into hiding, but it seems that the minors and the ones who do not have a throne are still on the…loose. Is that how you say it? On the loose.”
The man interlaces his fingers and sighs through his nose. “They’ve gone in to hiding as well, you dimwit.” He looks down at me as if he just noticed that I was here. “Who’s your mother?”
If my wrists hadn’t been tied up, I probably would have strangled him. Scratch that, as soon as my bonds are untied, I would murder him.
“Answer me!” the man orders. I open my mouth to make a withering retort when there is a sharp hiss. The car lurches terrifyingly and I see a figure in black outside the window. The person disappears into the shadows, leaving no trace behind.
The man let loose some words that are most certainly not in English. I assume that he is cursing.
“Stop!” he screams, hitting the driver’s seat with the back of his hand. He curses in the same language as the shock sends a jolt through his hand.
“Stop the vehicle!” he screeches again. The car halts of its own accord. The man screams something about wolves and stomps outside. A second later, I hear a loud shattering sound as the back windshield breaks into bits.
I instinctively duck as the deadly sharp bits of glass spray across the car. The man isn’t so lucky. He gets cut in numerous places across his arms, back, and neck—and miraculously, black blood begins to flow.
The man screams as the hooded figure rams against the car with something like a battering ram. The door crumples and the person jumps into the car and growls at me, “Get out! Get out unless you want to die, boy!”
“I…” I say, dazed. “Who—”
The person snarls in annoyance and shoves the man outside, pulling me along too.
Omega, who has been too struck to speak, finally regains his senses and raises a black sword. The person mutters something too quiet to catch and draws a bow and a quiver of glowing silver arrows. The person glares at me with hard, dark green eyes. “Don’t look.”
I avert my eyes as he/she sends nocks an arrow in the bow and lets it fly. I hear a sickening thump as the arrow hits home and Omega squeals.
“Holy Artemis,” I hear the person mutter. “That is disgusting.”
A pair of hands hauls me upright. “We haven’t seen one of us in years. Who’s your parent?”
“My what?”
The person mumbles something that suspiciously sounds like, “Boys.”
“What?” I insist.
“Never mind,” the girl says briskly, taking off her hood. “We’ll let Annabeth sort you out, won’t we?”
“Who and what?”
She looks at me irritably. “Do you always talk so much?”
I gape at her as she grabs me and runs for a tree. Just when I think that I am about to get smashed flat, we hit the shadows as dark as the moon.
A second later, we pop out of this metal cylinder and tumble ungraciously to the floor.
“Get off me!” the girl snaps, her voice slightly muffled by the fact that she is kissing the floor.
I sheepishly get off her and she scrambles up, her eyes furiously glaring at me.
“Sorry.”
She gives me a withering look and says, “Follow me if you value your life.”
I gulp, getting a bit fidgety by the tone of her voice and nod obligingly.
We pass a number of corridors made of plain marble and steel. Occasionally, there are bright flashes of light behind closed and locked doors. I wonder just what the hell is going on back there, but ultimately decide to keep my mouth shut, due to my escort’s mood.
The girl finally stops in front of a single stainless steel door (after what must have been two hours) that is simply labeled in neat typography: COMMAND CENTER.
“Sounds lovely,” I winced. “Did I really walk this far to get beheaded in a ‘Command Center’?”
“First off,” she growls, slinging her quiver over her shoulder, “don’t even think about being sarcastic in front of Annabeth if you don’t want to be skewered through the gut with a knife. Second, be respectful at all times. Thirdly and finally, tell the truth. You’ll be interrogated by a Roman demigod, and I’d hate to find out that I went through all the trouble of getting you to find out that Annabeth’s throwing you to the lions because you told a lie to Reyna’s hounds.”
They have lions? Well, this Annabeth sounded pretty vicious, so I decided to go along with the plan.
The girl punches a bright green button next to the door. It instantly swings open, revealing a disgruntled-looking girl with bright gray eyes. She looks at me and says slowly, “Who’s the mom?”
I scowl. “My mother died, thanks.” I instantly know that I have said something wrong when my escort glares at me.
“Just bring him in,” the other girl tiredly says. “Maybe he’ll miraculously make Annabeth see sense somehow.” The first girl rolls her eyes like she doubts that will ever happen.
The other girl faces me again, running an eye over me, analyzing my stature. She steps aside to allow me in, and I hesitantly step forwards. The door slams shut behind me, and I know that there is no escaping now.
“So,” she says. “Savannah told you about the…uh, proper rules, right?”
“Is she always this icy?” I nervously ask.
“No,” the girl answers. “She’s a Hunter. Most of them are kind of uncomfortable being around boys. Anyways, I’m Amber.”
“Most,” I note. “And the exception is…?”
Amber shrugs, leading me towards the end of the room. “I suppose that some of them are not that edgy around boys as some of the others, but you’ll never catch them dating or anything. And here we are.”
I walk upon a scene that makes me want to gawk.
A girl in silver camouflage like what the other girl (“Savannah”, or something) was wearing. She was in the middle of a heated argument with a blond teenager.
“—telling you that the blasted army is coming!”
”I need more proof. Just because some random spacecraft crash-landed in the front yard, doesn’t mean that they’re here.”
“What more proof do you need then that?” the silver camo girl irritably asks. “Just like when you’re ‘stressed’, get ‘desserts’.”
“Excuse me?”
“It’s called reverse psychology! ‘Stressed’ spelled backwards is ‘desserts’!”
“Well,” the blond huffs, “what does that have to do with anything?”
“I don’t know,” her arguer admits. “It just felt like the right time to say it.”
“Twelve years,” the blond answers, shaking her head. “Twelve years, and this is the right time to talk about reverse psychology? The world is so messed up.”
“Well, no duh, Kronos is ruling! What’d you expect?”
I raise an eyebrow at Amber, who loudly clears her throat. Both girls look up as if they have just noticed our presence, even though we have been standing there for at least two minutes.
“I thought that the gods had gone into hiding,” the girl in silver says after a long period of awkward silence.
“They have,” Amber mutters under her breath.
“Okay,” the blond says, scrutinizing me. “Because that isn’t right. You’re a son of…”

*gives RomanGreekDemi two big thumbs up* Awesome story! Can't wait to find out what happens next. =)

awesome!

Hey that wad pretty good like duper duper good post soon

Post soon!

this is cool! post soon!

Cool

post

Post!

Just started this and i think its really cool!! Post soon!!!

son of WHO????
Awesome story

Post soon!

Post soon.

Ahem.
I can barely even get on Fanpop now (my ever-loving mom BLOCKED this site on my account, and she put up "parental controls" too, so I can't go on this or Fanfiction.Net), so...I guess that this means that MY STORIES ARE ON HIATUS.

that sucks!!!! :(((((

...And I'm on her account right now, so I'm just praying like crazy to Zeus that she won't find out...heh, heh. I'm an evil person.
Okay, so: while I am supposedly typing up my "short story" for English class, I am trying to type up THIS and my "Chaotic Blades" thingy. Cheers, and hopefully, I'll see you soon!

That totally sucks. Try to post soon!

I understand

Yes. We all understand.

Oh, yes. *Hint of sarcasm in voice* Report me because I CAN'T GET ON TO MY OWN LAPTOP. Please do NOT post on this forum if you don't have anything good to say!

As of 11/28/11...
Thank you for deleting the comment.

II

“…Artemis,” the blond quietly says.
Everybody freezes in place like they are human statues of themselves. My mouth turns dry, yet again. “Um…who’s Arty-moose?” Yes, I know, I must have sounded very diplomatic at that moment.
The spiky-haired girl glares at me like I’m taboo—which, judging by everybody’s expression, I was.
“You’ve gone nuts,” the same girl who glowered at me says. “Annabeth, your mind is deteriorating.”
“Aw, thanks,” Annabeth sardonically retorts. “I am speaking in a primitive language that includes grunting and scratching my head like a baboon.”
Her arguer huffs and crosses her arms, switching her gaze to me, yet again. I find it very disconcerting.
“You’re a son of Artemis.”
I shrug, not really sure of what this is all about. “Don’t know.”
The girl turns to Annabeth. “I’m asking you one more time: Are you sure you aren’t going senile?”
“Glad that you’re concerned about my health, Thalia,” the said girl dryly answers. “But no.”
Thalia mutters something under her breath that does rather sound like a whole bunch of nasty words that sort of sounds like Greek, from what we have learned of it at school. She tosses a silver bow and a quiver of matching arrows towards me. “Shoot me.”
“Come again?”
“Shoot. Me.”
“I don’t know how to shoot in the first place!” I cry, waving the weapons in the air.
Thalia waits impatiently.
“Don’t blame me if I accidently kill somebody else in the room,” I warn, taking an arrow against my own will. I examine the slim piece of wood, and almost dreamily nock it into the bow. Conscious that everybody is watching me with shrewd gazes, I gulp and let the arrow fly.
At least I don’t kill Thalia, whose hand shoots up and catches the offending arrow as fast as a snake. She studies me with newfound interest. “Fine,” she grudgingly concedes, “maybe you’re right.”
Annabeth sighs. “What’s your name?”
“Um. Sean?”
“Well, then,” Annabeth says coolly, “Thalia? Just…show him around a bit, will you?” Her voice has something hidden in it that I can’t quite pinpoint.
“Oh, yeah, mock the Hunter,” Thalia mutters, shooting a look at me. I can sort of detect mixed emotions in her eyes: anger, annoyance, awe, and possibly a hint of fear.
Annabeth clears her throat loudly, and Thalia grabs me. “Come on. Let’s talk.”
I yelp as she drags me quite unceremoniously from the room.
***
I immediately pounce on her as soon as we step foot out of the room: “You’re scared of me.”
Thalia raises an eyebrow and waves Savannah off, who is still glaring at me with concentrated fury. “What makes you think that?”
“Your eyes,” I promptly answer. Thalia rolls her eyes. “That obvious? Okay, maybe. Why shouldn’t I be? You’re the son of a virgin goddess who is imprisoned on Mount Othrys at the moment. You’re the son of my mistress, too.”
“Whoa. Wait a moment. My supposed mom, Arty-moose, is your mistress?”
“Artemis,” Thalia snarls. “Not Arty-moose.”
“Artemis,” I hurriedly correct. “Meaning?”
“Goddess of the moon, the Hunt. She’s the daughter of Zeus and Leto.” Thalia pauses. “If the gods had DNA, than I suppose that she would be what you would call my immortal half-sister.”
I scratched my head. “Your mom is Leto?”
“Zeus!” Thalia snaps. “He’s my dad!”
I seem to have a talent for pissing off my mom’s…Hunters, or whatever you call them.
“Okay,” I say carefully. “And…you’re going to show me, what?”
Thalia seems to be relieved that I have dropped the subject. “Have you ever heard of a guy called ‘Percy Jackson’?”
I shrug and tell her about our history classes.
“That’s total bull,” Thalia drawls. “I was there when Jackson was murdered by Kronos. Yeah, Percy told us to run, but Annabeth being the stubborn girl she is, dragged Grover and I back to the throne room, just in time to get front seats for a disturbing, panoramic view of that Lord of Time stabbing Fish Face in the small of the back. Obviously his weak point.
“It all came crashing down after that. Me and Grover practically had to bind Annabeth and then, jump down this gaping hole in the floor.” Thalia shudders. “I’d never liked heights, and this was going to the extreme. If I weren’t a child of Zeus, we would have been flattened into a grease spot onto the asphalt below. Needless to say, we nearly died along the way, anyways, because it was the first time I had attempted to control air.”
We walk in silence for a few minutes after that. Thalia stops me in front of another steel door that looks exactly like the one in front of the Command Center. She scans her thumb and the door slides open silently.
“Why do you need a security system for this room?” I ask as the doors slide smoothly shut behind us. Thalia runs her fingers down a stack of documents. “Important stuff here,” she vaguely answers. “We’ve rigged a couple of H-bombs to the system, too—”
My mouth flaps like a fish. “What?”
“Meaning,” Thalia says while rifling through some index cards and moving onto a stack of iPads, “the intruder dies before he or she can even step foot inside this place.” She looks at me. “Demigods aren’t really supposed to use technology, but this room is heavily insulated, so…yeah.”
“Ah.” I swallow, making a mental note to never try and step foot in this place. “Sounds…fun.”
“Amazing, isn’t it?” Thalia agrees, skimming through an iPad marked with a Greek Omega. She snorts in disgust and tosses the piece of gadgetry onto the wood shelf, not flinching when it lands with a sickening crunch. “Travis!”
“Hey!” A mischievous looking boy pops up from the D aisle. “’Sup?”
“Get rid of your prank sites!” Thalia snaps, jabbing a finger at the iPad. “And don’t worry about receiving spam on Gmail anymore; I deleted you and your brother’s account.”
She leaves Travis in the dust and continues searching for something. I fidget with the sleeves of my jacket.
“Ah, here it is!” Thalia exclaims, yanking a piece of snow-white paper from a stack of that stuff. She scans through the manuscript and glances at me. “Hmm…maybe you should read this yourself.”
I shakily take the offered paper and realize that it is written in Latin. “I can’t read this.”
Thalia raises an eyebrow. “No? I can already tell that your mother isn’t Artemis.” She laughs. “For once, Annabeth’s wrong. You’re from the Roman side of the gods. Your mother is Diana. So read it.” She clams up after that and begins playing Plants vs. Zombies on a stray iPod. Demigods here seem to love Apple products.
Thalia looks rather comical, with her silver getup while placing peashooters and those Chomper things against the “Michael Jackson” zombies. She glances up and sees me stupidly gazing at a sheet of paper. “Just concentrate.”
I take a deep breath and stare at the words like I expect them to leap off the page and strangle me or something. After a minute or so of sweaty staring, the words slowly begin to make sense to me. I pull out a couple of phrases like: …from different worlds… and …fall to doom. That sounds very optimistic.
I clear my throat. Thalia sighs and pauses the game, tossing it back onto the shelf. “Did you get it?”
“Um…sort of…”
Thalia’s mouth twists into a grimace. “It’s a prophecy, Sean. And it seems that you’re one of the subjects.”
“Is that a good thing?” I ask, although I already know the answer.
“Not necessarily,” Thalia answers. “This is what it says:
Six shall depart from different worlds,
They must unite and find the pearls.
To face the sons of the Eternal One,
Twisted to the hands of Moon and Sun.
The reign of terror remains in place…”
Thalia hesitates at the last line and murmurs, “While traitor’s puppet runs in the race.”
---
Well. That was crappy.

Mad, why is RGD getting reported. I'm not on anyone's side. I just want to know why.

Luv it!!!

hey this story is really good...

Post soon!!

post soon (no pressure)

Post

hey you should post

He/she is prob having trouble getting on account. Cause of his/her mom

This so so good! Post soon! Whenever you can!

This is really good! Please post soon :)

Joy: I posted. Just a reminder: I will not be able to post very often...as swimmergirl7 says...yes. That's very true. Hope you like that chapter!
---
III

“Traitor’s puppet?” I ask, thoroughly bewildered. “Does that mean, like, some traitor decides to set up something like Potter Puppet Pals—”
“What?” Thalia splutters indignantly, interrupting me midway while turning red. “What?! No!” She took a rattling breath, although I didn’t know why she would take it so personally. “It means that some traitor that’s here has a spy or something, and while they’re still active, we’re never going to de-throne Kronos!”
I blink. “Oh. Sure.”
Thalia looks like I have pushed her off the edge. “Okay…sorry for the outburst. It’s just…” She quickly looked around to make sure that Travis wasn’t eavesdropping or anything. “Annabeth thinks that the last line doesn’t necessarily mean a traitor from this war. She thinks that it was a…traitor from the last war.” She still looks very jumpy. Her words are tumbling out in a sea of sentences now. “Like, during the year that Percy died, we had this Titan War. L—er, a son of Hermes, he apparently thought that Kronos ruling would be a ‘better world’, so he betrayed everybody and joined Kronos. He became the mortal host for the Titan, and…well, in short, Annabeth is thoroughly convinced that he had somebody else acting on his orders. Not just…” Thalia winces. “…another…girl that was communicating with him.”
I decide to drop the subject for now, but something about her answer doesn’t seem quite right. It was like she was hiding something from me. I guess that I shouldn’t be too surprised, but I make a mental note to stalk Thalia, although I was sure that she wouldn’t appreciate it.
There is a long period of awkward silence, until I pounce onto her again: “Okay, so who are the ‘Sons of the Eternal One’?”
A momentary look of severe panic and alarm flashes across Thalia’s face, but it’s gone in an instant. “No. Why?” Her voice is completely neutral, and her manner is still very stoic.
“Come on,” I persist.
Thalia shrugs. “Nope. No idea.”
“But—” I begin.
“Look,” Thalia says, getting rather impatient, “d’you want me to drag you out of the room, stick you in a meat-flavored sack, and throw you to the wolves?”
“Er…sounds wonderful…”
“Exactly. Let’s go.”
Thalia grabs my hand and nearly rips it out of the joint as she literally tosses me out of the room. “I’ve got to go.” She points towards another door at the end of the hallway. “Death Boy will take over from here. Tell him to describe the prophecy to you. What he knows about it, at any rate.” I get the feeling that this “Death Boy” doesn’t know too much.
Thalia sprints down the hall, leaving me with a bunch of unanswered questions hanging around my personal space.
“Thanks for your moral support,” I mutter randomly as I trudge down the hallway towards another steel door. The instant it opens, revealing a scowling teenage guy. He has very pale, almost white skin, shaggy black hair that needs to be combed, a black aviator’s jacket pulled tight over a black T-shirt with a skull, black jeans, and black Converses. Like, everything about this guy screamed Death! in my face.
“Yeeeees?” the boy grumpily asks.
I’m not sure what to say. I finally settle for: “Are you ‘Death Boy’, by any chance?”
The scowl turns into a pout. “Oh, I see. You judge every book by its cover, don’t you?”
“Er, no…Thalia called you ‘Death Boy’. I don’t know your real name, sorry…” I apologize.
“Death Boy” grunts. “’S okay. Leave it to Pinecone Face to never call anybody by their real name.” He sticks out his hand. “Anyways, I’m Nico di Angelo.”
By that point, I am doubled over with laughter. “Whoa. Hold on—did you just say, ‘Pinecone Face’? And my name’s Sean.”
Nico clears his throat, looking highly embarrassed. “Umm...yeah, long story, don’t call her that in front of her face.” He glances over my shoulder and whispers confidentially, “Don’t tell her I said this, but before...well, way back then, the Stoll brothers challenged Percy—er, before he died—and Thalia to this naming contest. Percy had to think of as many names for Thalia as he could, and Thalia to Percy.” Nico blinks. “You know, I don’t even know why I’m telling you this. What’s up?”
“Yeah, Thalia asked me to tell you to describe the prophecy to me.”
Nico’s face turns stormy. “The prophecy, eh?” He waves a hand at his quarters. “Come in. I don’t want anybody eavesdropping.”
***
The first thing that I register when I step into Nico’s room: dark.
I mean, seriously—black wallpaper, black steel, black bed, black sheets, black pillow, black torches (okay, the flames were green, but whatever)—dude, was this guy emo or something?
“You’ve got…a dark theme going on,” I awkwardly say, noting that when he closes the door, I can barely see anything. Everything is washed in green with a side of black.
Nico clears his throat. “So. The prophecy…what can I tell you about it?”
“What it means,” I answer promptly. “I mean, like, what’s the ‘Moon and Sun’?”
Nico licks his lips. “I…well, it’s probably referring to Artemis and Apollo. You know, the twins of mythology? Their Roman names are Diana and Apollo. Yeah, Apollo has the same name…but anyways, Artemis is the goddess of the moon, while Apollo is the god of the sun.”
I start internally panicking, but somehow manage to keep my voice controlled: “Thalia and Annabeth both said that I was a son of Diana…well, Annabeth said that I was a son of Artemis, but Thalia—”
“Well,” Nico interrupts, “for once, Annabeth’s wrong—you’re Roman. I can tell by looking at you.”
“Is that a good thing, or a bad thing?” I ask meekly. Nico shrugs. “Personally, I think that Romans are okay—they’re just kinda annoyingly paranoid at times.”
“Okay, moving on…does the tern ‘sons of the Eternal One’ make any sense to you?”
Nico shrugs yet again, clearly mystified. “That, I don’t know. Nobody does—even Annabeth can’t get her head wrapped around it. Why?”
I hesitate. “Because I asked Thalia the exact same question, and for a moment, it looked like she knew what I was talking about.”
“Really?” Nico raises an eyebrow. “That’s strange. Thalia…” He frowns.
I uncomfortably fidget, because I was beginning to have a very bad feeling about that girl. “Look, I don’t mean to sound like I’m prying too hard, but…has she, like, been acting weirdly lately?”
Nico furrows his brow. “No. She spends a lot of time outside, which is pretty normal for her. Again, why?”
“Nothing…” I clear my throat. “Third question, am I going to die because of this prophecy?”
“Maybe,” Nico says. “Nobody can change Fate. I honestly don’t know. Prophecies can predict either good or bad things. The last Great Prophecy…well, as far as I know, Percy was the subject, he reached the age of sixteen, Morpheus put the whole of Manhattan to sleep, Percy got his soul reaped by Kronos’s scythe, and Olympus was razed. That wasn’t such a great prophecy.”
“Right,” I croak. “I—”
A loud bell rang, like one of those annoying buzzers that signals the end of classes, and several people began to stream out of the rooms, heading for a single large complex that seems to be in the middle of the building.”
“Council meeting,” Nico mutters, standing up. “Come on. I think that this gathering will be especially interesting.”

Great chapter! I like the part with nico and Thalia's nick names!

Awesome!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!­!!!­!!!­!!!­!!!­!

Post soon please!

Great chapter! Can't wait for more!

Yeah. Tell your mom you need to get on or crazy fans will destroy your house

Wow. Awesome. Just...Speachless.... Just plain awesome.....