Chapter Text
The first thing Leo felt when he woke up wasn’t a warm machine with beating wings. Instead, he felt nothing.
Which was kind of expected. He’d died, after all.
Gods, he’d died. Maybe just for a second, enough for the loophole to work, but he’d died. Expired. Morí. Estiré la pata—ugh, nevermind, it was way too weird to use phrases for dying in first-person past, and whoa, had he just unironically thought of the words ‘first-person past’? Jason really must have rubbed off on him. Not literally.
But… wow. He really HAD died.
It wasn’t exactly the most shocking revelation after ruminating over it, either—not after an initial jolt of holy schist, anyway. There was no huge epiphany that suddenly made him jump. There was no dam-breaking moment that made him cry his lungs out either. Leo had painstakingly gone over the pros, the cons (and there were many cons, that’s for sure), but at the end, the only way for him to keep his promise was with the cure. And… well, um, that involved dying.
He’d been scared, obviously. He had been terrified out of his mind fighting the Earth even as he screamed his throat hoarse and launched blasts that blazed and burned—if he hadn’t had Jason’s reassuring presence or if Piper hadn’t been there with her words that made him believe he could do anything, he’d have melted into a puddle of blubbering demigod by the first ten seconds.
But he’d also had to do it. Everyone had lost so much in the war—before it, even—and Gaea had to be stopped at all costs, no question. They’d all been prepared to lay down their lives; heck, Leo himself had been ready to die saving his friends dozens of times before the final showdown with Potty McSludge. This had been no different. And it was the only way to save Calypso from her horrible curse.
Dying was kinda funny, he realized, and that was unexpected. One instant you’re there, living your best life, and the next… poof. Heart attack. Brain aneurysm. Or, uh, something a bit more special in his case. He wondered how Hazel and Nico dealt with it, the constant feeling of souls shuffling out of their mortal coil. He wondered about their reaction when they felt for certain that he died, and he wondered whether they knew he’d eventually be back.
But there was no familiar hum of machinery he could feel, and his hands weren’t gripping tough golden scales. There was always the chance that he could get to Ogygia while unconscious, of course… or maybe he could wake up lying on a field in the middle of nowhere, or in Camp Half-Blood’s infirmary.
...And yeah, he could always open his eyes to see Charon’s boat. Buuuuuut he really didn’t want to think about that, and the repercussions and oh gods had he really thrown everything he had for nothing a random bet what if he woke up five hundred years in the future and he’d never see his friends ever again—
Nope. No overthinking. That hadn’t helped before and really wouldn’t help now.
What had happened? Leo tried to collect his thoughts.
The last thing he remembered was… the last thing he remembered was fire. He’d fought against Gaea with his friends while the two camps screamed and struggled and desperately fought below. He’d said his goodbyes to his two oldest friends (and gods, the terror and confusion and pain in their eyes would haunt him forever). He’d directed Festus to get closer, he’d charged up the flames, and then...
The salty taste of tears, hands screaming in pain, a rush of wind, the world holding in its breath—
Fear. Fire. An infinitesimal moment of the worst agony he would ever feel. And then his death.
Leo had to take a moment to pause.
But whatever he was and wherever he was now didn’t really feel like the afterlife. Yeah, Hazel had kinda forced him to give up on the idea of the first thing one saw after kicking it being the Game Over screen for Luigi’s Mansion, but still. This wasn’t what he expected.
There was no eternal pain and agony or whatnot, for one thing—his entire body felt numb, like he was floating in the middle of a Jell-O galaxy. He briefly wondered whether he’d been injected with elephant tranquiliser, but that couldn’t be it, not when his head still felt like it weighed three-hundred pounds. His legs must’ve weighed less than that, though, because they weren’t touching the ground: something (or someone) was holding them up. Hadn’t Will Solace once taught them something about raising someone’s legs when… something? Went to show just how much attention he’d paid… or just how out of it he was.
Had he woken up alive, then? The thought made his heart soar.
Leo tried to focus on his senses: even if he couldn’t get up yet, he could still try and find out information about where he was. The sooner he recognized his surroundings, the earlier he could act. Lying helpless and knocked out was seriously not the Valdez way. (It was more like the Jason Grace way, if he was being honest.)
There were no sandy pebbles pooling underneath his hands, he realized dimly, fingers starting to twitch and drag over something hard and smooth; it felt like one of those fancy hotel receptions, polished to perfection. He hadn’t been to many—no matter where, the bellhops at the entrance had always glared at him whenever he even got close—but sometimes he really wanted to use a fancy restroom, and those floors always made every footstep squeak. He wasn’t on the beach of Ogygia, then. Not in an infirmary cot either.
And if he really was dead-dead, he’d kind of expected the boatman’s ship to sound more moan-y and less… buzzy. Or maybe that was just his ears complaining. The ship of the dead would probably be less bright, too: he could already tell the lighting was harsh even behind his eyelids. A hiss escaped from his throat, unbidden, followed by a groan as he tried to move his arm up to block the sun or the light or whatever. He couldn’t do more than get his hand to flop pathetically.
That was when he realized that he had company.
A sharp inhale pierced his thoughts, and he immediately focused on the noise, senses kick-started into alertness: an instinct born after too many ambushes and too many homeless nights.
“He’s awake!” someone gasped. Leo couldn’t really recognize the voice—it sounded muffled, as if coming out of a really really trashy radio transceiver—but it must’ve been someone important because all of a sudden his ears were overwhelmed by chatter. The voice muttered something under its breath; an order, probably, because someone else was soon bringing the noise level back down to ‘reasonable enough’ with a few stern-sounding words.
The cotton candy stuffed into Leo’s ears was melting away. “Hey, can you hear me?”, the first voice asked, warm and kind and definitely sounding like a guy, and Leo tried to formulate some sort of sentence that showed that he was feeling fine. He managed to open his mouth, but instead of a cool-sounding "Yeah, dude, more chill than an eagle in the tundra”, what came out instead was a groan of affirmation.
Great first impression to your helper, Leo, he (mentally) chided himself. But as the guy that was literally responsible for the creation of the Argo II, he knew that there was a saying that talked about how if you failed the first time, all you had to do was try again and blah blah blah. Might as well restart and see how it went. He tried taking a deep breath; his lungs greedily accepted all the oxygen.
“Y-Yeah… can hear you, no problemo,” he managed to say. His voice came out weak and desert-cracked, trail end fading off into an involuntary cough. He dared to open his eyes—only to instantly close them again with a wince, this time succeeding in dragging his hand over to cover them. Shit, the lights were way too harsh.
The voice sighed, sounding relieved. “3-4-6, thank the gods. That’s… that’s good,” he muttered—Leo probably wasn’t meant to overhear that—before speaking up again, tone friendly and almost casual, almost like the way one would talk with a good friend. “Okay, great. Thankfully, you don’t seem to have any injuries, so you should only be feeling some disorientation. Stay lying down for now, and open your eyes whenever you feel ready. No rush. I’m here if you want to ask any questions.”
Leo didn’t know how much time passed before he felt ready to open his eyes again; it might’ve been minutes, though it was probably only about twenty seconds or so. Piper had always said he was hard-headed…
Gods, Piper. And Jason. And Hazel, and Frank, and—
He immediately opened his eyes—thank the gods he wasn’t blind, he thought, blinking dark spots away. (Not that he had much else to thank them about.) It took him a while to adjust, but what he saw made his heart swell with emotion. Five hundred years had not passed. He knew that face; heck, of course he’d think that the guy sounded familiar after so many visits to the infirmary from something going wrong in construction. He’d given Leo his tour of camp, for gods’ sakes!
He’d done it. He’d defied fate. He’d woken up alive—maybe not already en route to Ogygia, but practically halfway there already. And this way, he’d be able to see his friends before the trip.
He felt his lips curve into a grin. “Will?”
But the camper’s reaction wasn’t what he’d been expecting. Will’s brow furrowed, blue eyes narrowing. “You know me?” he asked, tone uncertain and low, and Leo’s stomach dropped into Tartarus.
What?
...What?
He’d expected Will Solace to give him one of those trademark glowing smiles, or blow up at him for his recklessness in a practiced rehearsal they’d both become very familiar with over the course of building the Argo II. But this had totally blindsided him—and while Leo was an adaptable guy, this was one thing he didn’t expect.
The worst thing was that he didn’t feel like the son of Apollo was lying. This was no welcome-home prank.
Everyone forgetting about him would definitely be in his list of endless hell punishments. Or maybe he’d been literally blasted into another world, or… gods. He felt himself swallow—his mouth suddenly tasted acrid. The cotton was starting to get back into his ears; he could hear his heartbeat. Thump-thump.
And out of all the things he could think of, Nemesis came to his mind, and his first real rational thought that wasn't drenched in panicked confusion was, Stupid fortune cookie.
But before he could press, Will shook his head; Leo's stupefaction must've been pretty obvious. “Nevermind. Just… don’t worry about it.” His handsome face was half-caught in the light when he turned to face behind Leo. “Do you feel ready to sit up?” Leo nodded, and Will’s mouth quirked up into a small smile. “If something hurts at any time, don’t hesitate to cry out or tell me.”
Leo nodded again; he didn’t trust his throat to behave right now. Will’s innocent question had left him a bit shaken. Or a lot shaken, rather, but... mierda.
The poor guy was still frowning, obviously thinking about something, but the hand that he placed on Leo’s shoulder was firm and reassuring. He helped him sit up until his back rested against something solid. Now, Leo wasn’t Narcissus or anything (he’d met the guy himself, he would know), but the first thing he did now that he could was, well, check himself out - for health reasons only, mind you.
He wasn’t wearing the clothes he’d had on in the final battle against Gaea, which wasn’t too surprising: they’d probably been burnt to a crisp. Instead, somehow, he was wearing a short-sleeved white shirt with suspenders that were attached to beige trousers: a look he’d often worn in the past. He was also wearing his magical toolbelt, the familiar pockets staring back at him. And then he looked up, beyond Will.
The sight that awaited Leo was even more shocking than the ones before.
The hearth immediately caught his eye: it was enormous, but the flames seemed to be dancing on top of the coal, and it brought a warm feeling to Leo’s tense body. Tending it was a young girl, about nine or so. She wore nothing but a simple brown dress, and when she turned to tend the fire, Leo noticed her fire-red eyes. Maybe Leo should’ve been wary of her—any mysterious prepubescent kid that crossed a demigod’s path had a high chance of actually being a horrible monster that would ruin your day and probably try to gobble you up—but something in her gentle gaze as she watched the licks of fire spiral and fade made him relax.
The room itself was big enough to fit all the circus tents in the world. Heck, Leo was hesitant to even call it a room in the first place: it was more like a world of its own. Groups of people stretched out as far as the eye could see, though most not close enough for him to make out distinguishing features. Enormous columns were supporting the structure, and Leo realized that he was probably sitting against one: he had to crane his neck to see where they held up the domed ceiling, dotted with shining stars. Beyond them were thrones.
Oh, yeah. Had he not mentioned the thrones? Because there were thrones.
Huge thrones.
There were twelve in all, arranged like an upside-down horseshoe, which kind of made him think that whoever sat on those must be having the worst luck. The thrones all looked different—one was made out of glossy platinum, one had grapevines twisting all over it, and a particularly striking one was decked out with gold and silver gears—but they all looked suitable for the Cristo Redentor to lounge on them.
This place wasn’t meant for mortals to see; Leo understood that the second he’d looked around. Too much information. Too unexplainable. Their brains would turn to mush. Yes, any mortal—any normal mortal—would never be able to survive here, but Leo was a demigod. To him, those twelve thrones started to make sense, and coupled with the hearth…
“Wow,” he breathed. There wasn’t a more appropriate reaction.
Will Solace laughed; he’d been fiddling with a bag, pulling out supplies, and something made of glass was clinking around inside it as he set it aside. “Yeah, that was everyone’s reaction. Mine too. It’s totally natural.” When he turned to face Leo, his smile seemed honest, but it soon faded into a more serious look. “Are you feeling fine? Is there any pain anywhere?”
Leo resisted the urge to sigh: he really didn’t want to risk triggering Solace’s doctor mode, otherwise there would be no escaping his clutches. He’d learned his lesson after… uh, a certain incident that he wasn’t keen to remember. The best solution he’d found was to just play along until the guy was satisfied, so he sat up and shook his head, doing his best impression of a totally healthy well-adjusted teen.
“No, I’m all right,” he said, trying to reassure Will with a smirk. His voice came out stronger, thankfully; it wasn’t as hard to breathe, and his next breath was more greedy. “Just a bit woozy, but… I’m not in pain or anything.”
Not anymore, at least.
Will’s expression softened. “Great. We... Well.” He cut himself off, and Leo noticed his hands wringing, but Will continued before he could speak up. “I’m glad you’re awake. If you have any questions, I could try to answer them: there isn’t much time, but I’ll do what I can.”
Leo usually didn’t waste time digging his fingers into any opportunity, and this was no different. “Great. So, uh… we’re in Olympus, right? Real-deal Olympus?”
Yeah. Direct. Judging from Will’s wince, the guy thought so as well, but he still nodded. “Yeah, we are.” His eyes flickered side to side. “Have you been here before?”
The question made him want to laugh—did the guy really think he was important enough to? He shook his head. “Nah, never. I mean, do I look like the kind of guy to even want to go to the home of the gods? The bouncers would kick me out the second they spotted me.”
And honestly? He'd never wanted to go to Olympus. Leo? In the home of the gods? It sounded like the set-up for a bad joke—and this was the punchline that only the cruelest people would laugh at.
He shook the thoughts away; this wasn’t the time, and he was an expert on repressing random thoughts and feelings anyways. Might as well try to squeeze productive information out of this Will that didn’t recognize him and fuck, he was blindsided by the stab to his gut at the thought.
“Right, okay,” he started, the traces of a smirk slipping off his face as he leaned forwards to face Will. “I mean, I know I could ask a ton of questions, and I sure as heck want a ton of answers, but I guess… I want to know what I’m doing here.”
It hadn’t been meant to be a statement in and of itself. He’d expected… well, he wasn’t sure (to continue talking, maybe), but Will’s deep frown etching lines across his forehead definitely wasn’t it.
The son of Apollo held out a palm. “Wait, hold on,” he said, voice confused. “Are you telling me… you didn’t plan for this?”
Leo was struck dumb for a moment in confusion, and when he managed to reply, his questioning tone was no lie. “Plan what?”
Will’s eyes widened, and he murmured something under his breath. It might have been Leo, but the guy looked good under the light—and no, not that way—wait, no, Will wasn't ugly or anything, he was actually pretty handsome, like, objectively speaking, and shit, okay, um—it was just that… the bags under his eyes seemed lighter, and Leo could’ve sworn that Will used to feel taller.
“Dude, plan what?” he pressed, because Will looked like he was gonna hold a civil war inside his brain.
His friend(?) snapped to attention, as if he’d forgotten Leo was there. “Sorry, sorry,” he apologized, shaking his head, “I just… got a little distracted. It’s just… I’m not sure why I’m here either.”
...Well, shit. Maybe this wasn’t Nemesis’ way to humiliate him in front of the Olympians after all.
Will must have taken his silence as permission to continue. “Actually, none of us know.” His voice was calmer now, but his hands were clenched together. “We’ve all corroborated our stories, and we were all doing our own thing until just after eleven. There was a flash, and...” He spread his palms out helplessly. “You arrived after us, though—a spark of blue light and you were lying on the floor.”
It took Leo a while to reply. “I… I don’t remember a blue light,” he admitted, pushing aside a joke he had planned in order to get more information. “Just… darkness, and then your voice.”
He wondered if that was a little weird to say, but Will only nodded. “I’m not surprised; you were really out of it. It took you so long to wake up I was getting concerned.” Will’s replying smile was kind, and he reached out to gently touch Leo’s shoulder. It was more relieving than it had any right to.
Leo’s gaze swept past Will for a moment, past the girl and her hearth—he was too far away to make out the features of the people around, but their tell-tale orange T-shirts were unmistakable. Was he missing anyone else? There was no purple.
“Earlier, you said that you weren’t the only one warped here before me. Who are the rest? Who else is around?” Leo asked, shrugging the son of Apollo’s hand off. Will’s smile fell slightly, but he offered no comment.
“Campers, from…” Will shook his head, leaned back. His hand withdrew; the obvious caution made the saliva in Leo’s tongue turn sour. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t tell. It’s not personal, I promise.”
The lack of trust was kind of like a needle to the back of the knee—it sucked. Leo could understand it, though; if he’d been the amnesiac one, he wasn’t sure whether he’d trust something so important to a literal stranger (although a clearly non-100% mortal one).
But of course, Leo’s mouth always went before his brain. It was a part of his ADHD, and yeah, it normally already stunk, but gods be damned if sometimes he didn’t just pick the absolute worst times to be the verbal equivalent to a bull in a china shop—scratch that, Godzilla in a freaking mausoleum. So when he saw Will Solace clearly hesitating, he decided to pipe up with “Wait, from Camp Half-Blood, right?”
Will flinched as if he’d been slapped, and Leo wanted to kick himself. The look he gave Leo when he recovered was far from the kind ones he’d received thus far: it was narrowed, full of suspicion. “How do you know that name?” Will asked, and Leo hadn’t known that the son of Apollo could sound so confused and angry at the same time. There had to be a word for that, he was sure. Maybe ‘constipated’. Or 'what the fuck'—wait, that was three, damn.
It didn’t change that Leo had slightly shifted back towards the column, or that his mouth suddenly felt really, really dry. He swallowed, drew in a breath, and said, “Well, I—”
Now, let it be known that Leo Valdez didn’t flounder for answers. He just happily darted his gaze around until his eyes spotted the text on the orange T-shirt, one he could recognize no matter his dyslexia.
“Your shirt!” he yelped, trying to twist his lips into a satisfied grin. Will faltered, probably not expecting an answer, and Leo took the chance to barrel onwards. “It says Camp Half-Blood in your T-shirt, and everyone around is wearing orange, so I figured…”
Heck yeah. Nice lie, Leo!, he mentally cheered. Hopefully that could get Will off his butt.
Then Will’s gaze bore into his own, and suddenly Leo wasn’t feeling much like cheering anymore.
“Really?” Will asked, some of the doubt having left his tone but pinning Leo with a look just as intense as the first.
Leo tried to answer. “Yeah, totally. And hey, what did you mean with there being ‘not much time’—?”
A clap of thunder drowned out his words, and lightning flashed, making him cover his eyes. When he opened them, a dozen or so people had arrived; for a given definition of people, that is. Sparks fizzled out all around them.
Leo had seen them all in Greece, but even if he hadn’t there would be no way he’d mistake the Olympians for any others. They were human-sized now, but that didn’t change their power or their sheer presence one bit: the air felt charged even standing next to them, as if one movement could send the whole place down in a catalytic avalanche. And they were all staring right at him.
“That’s what I meant,” Will replied, mouth twisted into a grim line. He clapped Leo’s shoulder. “Come on. The gods want to talk to you.”
...Gods, he was more screwed than a metal plate.
Will was kind enough to escort him to his death, at least.
As they walked towards the gods, Leo noticed that a crowd started to gather as he walked past. Many faces stared back at him: most, he didn’t recognize. A few made him pause—Connor Stoll from the Hermes cabin, Katie Gardner from Demeter’s.
Then he saw Percy and Annabeth and almost tripped.
Seeing Will was one thing, but seeing two people he’d lived with, fought with, laughed with—that was another. They looked… gods, they were undoubtedly Percy and Annabeth, but Leo wasn’t sure where to begin.
The physical side could come first, he supposed. They were both leaner, less muscular than he was used to. The scar running down Annabeth’s arm from a nasty dracena wasn’t there, and the bags under their eyes were far less pronounced. (Leo was jealous; it felt like months since he’d last had a good night’s sleep.) Percy had a streak of white hair for some reason, one Leo had never seen before, and Annabeth’s own was far less faded—it stuck out like bleached corn in her blond hair.
But they both looked… younger, less haggard, less burdened. Not naive, far from it, but by the end of their journey, Percy and Annabeth’s faces had grown shadows sometimes when they thought nobody was looking, some sort of exhausted doom that made Leo’s heart catch in his throat every time he saw it and made him want to rip the world apart for its unfairness. These two just didn’t have that; Percy’s eyes in particular shone with a kind of boyish interest.
They stared back at him curiously for a second before Annabeth tugged Percy away. Leo felt his lips curve into a smile. Seems like some things remained constant no matter the world… or the time.
Because seeing those two had made him certain—at the very least, Leo was not in the future of his time. He’d somehow managed to land in a world where everyone was younger, less scarred, less bent and broken. Had he gone back to the past? Had he travelled to a world where the war hadn’t happened at all?
Then Will jostled his shoulder, shot him a quizzical look, and Leo remembered that he had to keep moving. A few more steps and they were before the gods.
Zeus looked like a really buff businessman instead of a really buff togaed lightning serial killer, but his face was just as grumpy and proud as ever. Leo recalled when Jason’s innocent statement had made the god nearly assassinate his own son and doom the quest he and his friends had spent months sacrificing everything to complete to fail. Fun times. Not.
Likewise for the other gods. Hera was just as beautiful on the outside as she’d been right before she’d fried Jason’s soul (and just as ugly on the inside as when she’d been good old Tia Callida, emphasis on old), while Hephaestus looked the same as ever, a muted expression with never-resting hands. The warm twinkle in his eye—the one thing he could count on with his father—wasn’t there when he looked at Leo, which totally didn’t help his mood at all.
Was he scared? Oh, totally. If he could, he would have dissolved into mist and just faded away all the way to Dubai. But after facing literally dozens if not hundreds of scary nasty sometimes-immortal things that could’ve splattered him in an instant, the gods weren’t just scary. They were also a giant, exhausting pain to deal with.
Great. He’d grown kind of jaded.
He still knelt, though, and to his side, Will did the same with much more grace; there was being weary (and wary) and then there was being suicidal. Leo had already thrown his life away once: to be honest, he didn’t want to do it twice. “My lords,” he said, followed by Will. Judging from the gods’ approving hum, they’d saved themselves from execution for now.
“State your business, stranger,” the lord of the sky boomed, more than a match for Coach Hedge’s megaphone. If looks could kill… Wait, actually, Zeus’ glare probably could, like, literally kill Leo. Funny thought.
Except it wasn’t funny at all. And what was he supposed to say? ‘Hey, Zeus, dude, I have absolutely no idea what happened because I died blasting the earth itself into hopefully-eternal sleep and woke up somewhere with younger versions of people I know - and oh yeah, by the way, did you know I totally gave the middle finger to your rules and got the god of medicine himself to create a reviving elixir for me?’. Yeah, no.
So of course, he did what usually worked to buy him time, at least from whoever he was talking to being too surprised to blast him. And hey, he’d managed to hold the existential crisis in thus far. He deserved a little slack. So instead of offering a concise and well-structured rebuttal, he just opened his mouth to blabber.
“Business?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. It was time to ramble. “I’m sixteen, man; I can’t legally open my own shop. It’s against the law. I mean, unless you’re condoning breaking the rules, ‘cause then I’ll confess that I’ve actually been planning on opening a workshop and stuff, and I just need a little money to start—”
“Silence,” Zeus snapped, face quickly turning the color of a very overripe tomato. Next to him, Poseidon (or a random dude in a Hawaiian shirt and shorts, who knew) covered his smile with a big hand. Apollo, a tan teenager with a handsome face and a fit physique, couldn’t contain his own giggle, one that was echoed by a few brave (or stupid) campers.
A part of Leo’s mind distantly wondered whether the guy had ever mastered the Valdezinator.
The bigger part of it was screaming at his mouth to shut up, but Leo just. Would. Not. Stop. Talking. “But how can I tell you all about my business if I shut up? You’re seriously contradicting yourself, leader man. Make up your mind!”
That seemed to anger the head honcho of the sky even more, which reminded Leo that just maybe he shouldn’t provoke almighty immortal deities that could turn each organ into a different insect with a wave of their hand. Zeus raised his hand to the crack of thunder, and Leo’s brain froze out of overdrive.
Finally, some common sense slipped through. “Right, yeah, fair enough,” he breathed, putting his palms up in the sign for surrender. Zeus liked being dominant, right? “Wait, wait! Let’s start again. You know, bygones be bygones. Lo pasado, pasado está, yeah?” He tried for a winning smile.
From Zeus’ side, Hera sniffed, so Leo guessed that his attempt must’ve looked like absolute schist. “I suppose it would be unpleasant to have to remove mortal remains from our home,” she drawled. One of her hands rose to lay on Zeus’ shoulder. “Let us hear him out, my husband, and then we will decide on whether to shuffle him off his mortal coil.”
Yeah, lovely gal.
Demeter seemed kinder, at least: her gaze was only dehumanizingly scrutinizing instead of outright scornful. It still made him feel puny. “You could start by telling us who you are.” The goddess’ gold wheat-like bracelet glinted in the light.
His name… Leo hesitated, then swallowed down the tangy taste of fear. There was no point in lying; any of these gods would surely know. He’d just deal with the reactions as they came. “My name, um—I’m Leo. Leo Valdez. And I’m a demigod.”
Well, it sure got a reaction.
Hephaestus flinched, eyes widening as he stared at Leo in a new light. His hands never stopped tinkering with a mechanical bird, but his movements now seemed more frantic. Next to Zeus, Hera’s hands clenched into her elegant dress. He didn’t miss any of those reactions, and could barely control a relieved sigh: those two, at least, knew him. Didn’t seem like anyone else did, though, judging by the low muttering that started amongst the campers behind him. At least he knew he existed wherever he was.
He considered for a second the implication of there being two Leos in one world, but quickly dismissed them because he really did not want his mind to implode right about now.
Okay. So his dad now knew that his previously-unclaimed son had randomly popped up in Olympus. And now Tia Callida knew that the kid he’d groomed to be a hero of prophecy had sullied her home. Amazing. He couldn’t wait for the questions.
To be honest, he kind of wanted Will to hold his hand, or Percy, or Annabeth. Maybe that’d help with the nervousness.
“Leo Valdez,” Hera repeated, and now her eyes were gleaming. Leo resisted the need to squirm and hurriedly averted his gaze. He felt Will tense at his side, and felt a burst of gratitude for his friend’s (acquaintance’s?) worry. Then again, maybe he was just concerned about getting caught up in whatever the gods would do to Leo, and he couldn’t blame him.
He cleared his throat. “Yeah, that’s me,” he replied, trying to keep the quaver out of his voice. Hephaestus was silent, looking at the floor.
Zeus folded his arms across his chest. “Now, Leo Valdez. I suppose you know who we are?”
Leo’s pulse flitted around the 150 mark, but his hands were itching to curl into fists. Did Zeus think he was stupid? He was playing with Leo. “Yes… Lord Zeus. You are the Olympians,” he choked out, voice rough; the air around Zeus was drying up, coiling into itself, making it hard to speak. A pleased smirk spread over Zeus’ face.
Then he spotted a tall, pale figure standing at the edge of the group, black eyes reminding him of an oil spill. “And of course, Lord Hades,” he hurried to correct, wincing. Being formal like this really wasn’t his style.
The god of the underworld grunted in acknowledgment, but his lips stretched into a fraction of a smile. “At least this one respects me. Good.”
Zeus rolled his eyes; it was really weird to see a gesture like that on the face of one of the most important deities in Greek mythology. “As he should, brother,” he muttered in reply, but soon straightened back up. “Now, Leo Valdez—do you know what has been going on here?”
Leo blinked. “...Huh?” Judging from Zeus’ pinched expression, that wasn’t the answer he was hoping for.
Hermes’ expression was somewhat more sympathetic, and he hurried to explain. “We were in the middle of a reunion when, well… we found that we couldn’t exit Olympus. The elevator won’t work, and any other attempts just lead us back here.”
“Not to mention that all the nymphs and other gods and goddesses have vanished,” sighed Aphrodite, a pouty frown ruining her otherwise perfect features. “I do hope Peitho and Harmonia are all right. The poor dears worry far too much.”
“Then, all those demigods,” Zeus spat the word out as if it was a curse, “suddenly appeared, and right afterwards—you, the one that nobody in this room knows. So, let me ask you again: what do you know?”
Leo opened his mouth again—to distract him, to try to get answers, to do something other than fidget from his position—but Hera beat him to it. “If I may, husband, the demigod’s name has brought a memory to the forefront.” Her expression seemed triumphant.
That brought a reaction: the other gods looked at her in surprise, Hephaestus - his father - in outright shock. Zeus, for his part, merely grunted. “Elaborate.”
Leo could hear the demigod crowd’s low murmurs behind him, but he could only focus on Hera’s crisp nod. “Years ago, I trained Leo Valdez for some time. He will be a hero - it is in his destiny. He needed all the preparation he could get. Oh, if only his mother could have seen that.” Gods, Leo hated how proud she sounded of herself. But then Hera frowned, and she turned away from the other gods to face him, the subject under a microscope.
“Scarred, tired, bent, but he ain’t broken,” Ares huffed, crossing his arms. His tone held a note of approval. “He’s gone through more than his fair share of battles, too. Tough ones.”
Dionysus straightened from his slouch, eyes wreathed with purple fire. “If he has fought numerous times yet no camper recognizes him, he must have been a demigod on Kronos’ side, then,” he drawled. The god looked relaxed, but the tone in his words was cutting, and Leo’s stomach dropped like a brick.
The implications of that statement were huge. At his side, Will stiffened: Leo felt rather than heard his stuttered breath. Behind them, the murmurs grew louder.
It made sense, too, which was by far the worst part. From their talk about the war, Kronos’ defeat must have already happened: Leo remembered some stories told in hushed whispers about enemy demigods trudging shamefully back to camp to scorn and dismissal, about some never being seen again.
No, he wanted to scream, that’s not me! But someone beat him to it, and it was the last person he’d expected.
Hera. The goddess drew herself up, one hand moving up to her chest in a fist. Her expression became steely, gaze unreadable as she looked at Leo, and for a moment his world stopped as he saw his life flash before his eyes.
“That cannot be possible,” Hera then retorted, tone final, and Leo looked up at her in shock. Hera? Out of all people? His life really was all kinds of messed up if she was defending him, but her words brooked no opposition. Her expression softened minutely as she met his gaze back. “Leo Valdez, you did not fight with or against Kronos at any point in the war, correct?”
He didn’t trust his voice not to squeak, so he shook his head. All the stuff going on—Mount Saint-Helens, Manhattan’s shutdown—he’d missed, too busy running on an eternal hamster wheel of shitty foster homes and living on the streets. It had been hard to care much about non-local news.
Hera leaned back, satisfied. “Leo Valdez should not be as old as this. And he most certainly has not started his destiny yet, either. The time is not quite right,” she continued, and now her gaze seemed a thousand miles away. She hesitated, which was weird, because Hera, queen of gasbags and lady of ruining lives, never hesitated.
It was in that tiny space of time that Leo took his chance. He cleared his throat loudly, attracting the attention of everyone else in the room: Zeus sharply snapped his gaze at him, and Leo barely resisted the urge to duck, cringe or do something incredibly stupid under the shine of so many spotlights.
“Sorry for the interruption, Hera—uh, Lady Hera,” —Hera’s eyes narrowed, but she nodded as if to let him go on— “but to be honest, I, uh…”
The initial rush of momentum petered out, and Leo’s grin slowly started to fade into something more like a grimace. How could he even describe what had happened? Wait, scratch that; how could he even describe what had happened in a way that didn’t leave him as a charred pile of ashes on the formerly-pristine floor? The wind drawing around him started to flicker and leap, and Leo’s fingers started to drum on his knees—‘I love you, I love you’—before he coiled them tight.
Gods, kneeling for so long was a pain. At his side, Will was stiff, muscles locked in place; why, Leo couldn’t say. His mind frantically raced for some explanation, a way to gain time, anything, and yet he couldn’t do anything but watch as Poseidon opened his mouth—
“...You what?” a voice rang out behind him, followed by a gasp as the rustle of clothes followed beneath the eruption of an even stronger murmur; the sudden influx of noise made him wince. Luckily, nobody in front of him noticed: Poseidon’s jaw was practically hanging loose, and if Zeus’ expression was stormy before, now it was thunderous. Someone had spoken out of turn, obviously; Leo could definitely empathize.
But now wasn’t really the time to focus on that: this was a distraction he could use. He took the chance to speak up in his own terms. “Well, I just—look, the whole story is probably gonna sound pretty unbelievable,” he blurted, injecting false bravado into his voice, and now he stood (well, knelt) strong against the stares everyone threw his way.
Dionysus raised his brow, his face looking like it was hosting a civil war between mockery and disbelief. “Try us.” Leo pondered whether he was still suspicious of him or he just instinctively hated anyone with the slightest connection to camp.
As the wisest men said… fake it till you make it.
“Okay, okay,” he sighed, raising his palms up as he gave his best attempt at a grin. “Well, uh, The Legend of Leo is pretty long,” —and his heart fluttered as he saw Hephaestus briefly flash a smile— “but I’m gonna start with this: I have no idea why I’m here.”
If Hera was in any way affected by the news, she didn’t show it; the same couldn’t really be said by the other gods, nor by the campers behind him—the air was filled with exclamations of “What?” and “Really?”. Instantly, Zeus glanced at Apollo, who closed his eyes with a nod. It was then that Leo remembered with a spike of—of fear, nervousness, something—that Apollo was the god of truth.
He prepared himself for some sort of headache or mental poke, but nothing came. “He… he speaks the truth, Father,” the god instead declared after a moment as he opened his eyes, unable to contain the curiosity in his voice. It was then that something showed on Hera’s face: a slight upturn of her mouth.
It didn’t really reassure Leo, but it was leagues better than what happened next: Zeus drew himself up to his full height, staring down at Leo like the dirty goblin he was, and said: “Very well. What were you doing until the moment of your transportation, then?”
...Schist.
For a moment, Leo wasn’t able to think: his head felt fuzzy, still trying to process the words of the lord of the sky—and most importantly, what they meant for Leo’s situation.
Then time rushed back into the present, and Leo’s world trembled. A part of him wanted to beat himself up, shake him until his snapped out of it: he’d faced far worse before. Leo had fought giants, had fought ghosts and monsters and demons, had beaten the earth itself. This shouldn’t be hard. It shouldn’t make his shoulders feel tight, shouldn’t make his chest tense in pain. But he couldn't tell him, he couldn't, because that'd just lead to question after question and this weird bizarro world would then learn that Leo had died fighting against Gaea and Zeus would just electrocute him into a billion pieces of Kentucky Fried Leo.
But it was supposed to be over!, the other part screamed, and the raw emotion in that thought—since when was Leo so honest with himself?—honestly shook him.
“Huh?” he asked, voice close to cracking, because what else could he do? In front of him, Hermes’ charming smile slipped off, and Aphrodite’s lips puckered into a frown. Leo’s skin started to tingle, and he wasn’t sure whether that was because of Zeus’ influence or his own fear.
The head of the gods himself now looked triumphant, sporting a satisfied look that was worse than any sort of scowl. Hera’s regal features were marred by troubled wrinkles—and wow, a tiny part of Leo’s mind distantly figured, it was really weird to see her care for his well-being—and Hephaestus’ big meaty hands were clenched into fists: his gaze now carried a wild kind of desperation.
“Is there a reason why you cannot tell us?” Hades asked, his tone level and oddly calm, piercing like a bullet through the tornado in Leo’s heart. The other gods nodded in agreement.
Will was perfectly still beside him. A stupid part of Leo wanted him to hold his hand.
“Is there a reason why you cannot tell us?", Hades drawled in his mind.
Zeus smirked knowingly, thinking he had him all figured out.
What could he do? What could he do?
“Leo’s a genius,” Jason proudly stated, and Leo remembered the warmth he’d felt when he’d said that. “He was the mind behind the entire ship - he can build anything, do anything.”
“You dummy,” Piper choked out, her face lit up with a smile even through her tears, “You absolute dummy. We missed you so much, Leo - we need you. I hope you know that.”
For one single second, his brain was nearly overwhelmed with flashes: words of encouragement, the smell of a well-earned feast, laughter born from relief that they were all alive for another day.
His friends—
Pull yourself together!, he shouted back at himself, a rallying cry, and that broke him from his trance fuelled by terror.
Okay. Okay. Okay. Leo’s fingernails dug deep into his palms.
Right. He drew a deep breath, ignoring the stares and the leers, and focused on his racing mind as sound started to exit his throat. It was time to do what he did best—improvise, then talk. Lying was out of the question, obviously. The gods would know, Apollo would make sure of that. But telling them nothing and spinning around in circles might lead to them deciding something unpleasant. A half-truth sounded best.
Okay. 'So I was riding on a dragon, attacking an enemy made out of mud and sand, when suddenly my vision went black and I found myself here.' Wow, he was good at this.
Now all he had to do was repeat it.
He only got as far as “So I was—” before his throat locked down. Literally.
Suddenly, he had no air. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move a single muscle. For one single second, he felt frozen, as if stuck in time watching the gods' faces scrunch up in confusion. It wasn’t painful. It didn’t feel any different—no squeeze around his throat, no blow to the gut—but it was so surprising that he couldn’t even begin to panic before it was over.
He flinched and began to say, “What—?”
Then a blinding light suddenly erupted from the floor in front of him, flooding the room, and he covered his eyes with a hiss. Any further thought was forgotten.
It might have lasted for five seconds, or five minutes. Leo didn’t know. He just kept his eyes shut, gritting his teeth and ignoring the outcry of shocked shouts and gasps flooding behind him. Zeus cursed, his roar overpowering all other sound, and Leo realized with a start that even the gods were surprised.
Was that how he’d appeared in Olympus? If yes, then who would be the one arriving here now? One of his friends?
Eventually, the light died down without preamble. Leo moved his hands away from his face and blinked back the black spots in his vision. His knees were aching, he realized, but his focus was on what the light had left when it had left.
Five books stared back at him, stacked horizontally on the floor. They were thick, without a doubt—way bigger than anything Leo had been forced to read for school and had ended up watching YouTube videos about. Their spine had words written in gold, too far away for Leo to read.
Maybe it was stupid, and maybe it was nothing, but seeing those books made him shudder, and not from the cold.
Whispers were sprouting all around him. The gods themselves looked startled, many conversing with each other; Hera herself was heading towards the books, every step purposeful yet graceful.
A knock on the shoulder snapped him out of his thoughts. When he turned, he saw Will: he’d already stood up, and was holding a hand out, a small. Leo took it, and Will pulled him up—but Leo had been kneeling for so long that his knees were wobbling like jelly, and he almost fell before Will caught him, placing a steady hand on his back.
...At least the gods weren’t focused on him anymore. Leo took that as a total win. Now he just had to deal with… no, that wasn’t the right word. Now he had to talk with Will.
Leo opened his mouth—to apologize, to say something, to break the awkward silence amidst the chatter—but Will beat him to it. “Are you okay?” he asked quietly, not meeting his gaze, and Leo’s heart clenched.
He played it off with a smile, though: it came out strong, not watery. “I’m fine, I’m fine, don’t worry,” he replied, shaking his head. “I mean, yeah, I was kinda peeing my mental pants, but… I’m fine.”
But Will didn’t seem reassured; he shook his head, and when he finally looked at Leo’s eyes, the concern in them made Leo want to take a step back. “You should have seen how you looked back there,” he winced, biting his lip. “You were so pale…”
Leo wanted to interject, to reassure him, but Will was only getting started: the bulldozer was only revving up. “And I just wanted to say—I’m sorry. For being so hostile with you, I mean. You were nothing but friendly, and I was being so rude, and…” He broke off with a sigh. “Well, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have treated you like that.”
“Well, I’d kinda like to think I’m not a bad guy either,” Leo joked, putting aside any feelings of his own for now. Maybe he didn’t know this Will Solace, but he knew a Will Solace and he considered him a friend. He had to help.
So Leo just opened his mouth and let himself go with the flow. “But it’s all right. Really. I get it,” he said, and found himself meaning it. “I mean, I’d have been suspicious of me too if I was in your place. But Will, look… I don’t know what’s going on. I have no idea why we’re here, or how.” Leo took a moment to think, his cheery grin morphing into something more subdued. “But I do know that you’re a great guy, and I don’t hate you. So… uh, yeah. It’s all right, seriously.”
This time, the way he beamed at the son of Apollo was genuine. Will’s own sadness was soon surpassed by his habitual quiet cheer, and he slowly started smiling back. “Thanks,” he murmured, closing his eyes for a brief moment. When he opened them again, they were warm.
For a moment, Leo found himself forgetting that this was a different world with a different time and he was talking with a different Will.
Then he saw Hera picking up a sheet of paper that was lying on top of the book pile, and the reality of his situation came crashing in.
It didn’t help that when she moved the note back down after reading it, her usually stoic face now looked ashen. She quickly moved back to the gods, note in hand; Leo couldn’t tell what they were talking about, but it was definitely important, because when the conversation was done they all looked like they were attending a funeral.
“Silence!” Zeus roared, stunning everyone into compliance. The man huffed, crossing his arms. “After deliberation, we consider this note to be of vital importance to everyone in this room.”
Hera stepped up, the paper on her hands. “Allow me to read, husband.” She cleared her throat.
“Yo, gods, goddesses and mortals!”
Leo couldn’t help it; he snorted loudly. A huge grin began to sprout. It wasn’t his fault—who wouldn’t do that when listening to the oh-so-great queen goddess Hera speak lingo like it was poison to her tongue? He wasn’t the only one; he distinctly saw Annabeth and—gods, was that Thalia Grace?—laughing with each other even amongst the giggles that suddenly picked up.
“On second thought, someone else can read this instead,” she sighed, waving the note about. Shrugging, Hermes took it off her hands and picked up where she’d left off.
“Hey, I know that this might be a big big bummer, and y’all are probably like mega confused and being all like, ‘what?’. Well, it’s your boy ya boy ya boi, Chronos—”
“Kronos!?”
Any trace of levity that was in the room instantly vanished, replaced with an uproar. Leo’s grin wilted on the spot.
“What do you mean by Kronos?” someone shouted over the din. It was Percy, his hands clenched into fists, normally-warm eyes full of the conflict of a hurricane. “How is he alive!?”
“We barely got through one war, and he’s already back?” another wailed; it was Katie Gardner, whose hands were clenched tight to her chest. “We can’t go through it again - definitely not so soon!”
Zeus held up his palm: his face was schooled into a perfect picture of a sculpture, but he swallowed hard before speaking. “Not my father, insolent boy. Chronos with a C-H is the one who holds dominion over empirical time,” he grinded out, voice betraying a flicker of uncertainty.
Chronos… Leo vaguely remembered reading something about him. The word ‘chronometer’ had to come from somewhere, after all.
“Now, if you would all allow Hermes to continue reading,” Hera glared, and that effectively silenced the crowd. She settled back with a sigh, back to a neutral expression, although Leo noticed the way her hands were clutching her dress so tight they were wrinkling the dress. Hermes gave her a thumbs up and resumed reading.
“Well, it’s ya boi, Chronos, and right next to me’s my best bud Aion, here to explain! Super stoked to talk to you guys. ”
Aion? Not a clue. He looked at Will for guidance, but the camper seemed to be as confused as he was.
“Okay, durrr, before anyone has any phat questions, here are some phat answers. As I said, I’m Chronos, the god (well, personification according to some people, but who knows?) of lineal time, not Kronos the Titan! Basically, that means I control the time that passes, the time that leaves you with no time, the time that’s structured into past, present and future. Hella radical, right? That’s right, I’m all that and a bag of chips!”
“My home skillet frenemy is Aion—we’re totes tight—and he’s the head honcho over cyclical time! We’re also kinda sometimes the same guy, and sometimes not, but that’s too complicated to go over in a note. Anyways, he’s all ‘bout the eternity, everlasting stuff, future is past is present and all that jazz. Like, the afterlife kinda-time but in a sense also our time in a loopy sorta way. Ka-blammo! Is that your heads right now? ‘OMG what is going on’? I’m sure it is!”
It was, actually. Leo wanted to sit down or collapse or something, and not just because of the sheer level of cringe he instinctively felt from the narration—even Hermes himself looked disturbed—but he forced himself to keep listening.
“Now, rapid-fire 360 no-scope style, booyah! Yeah, we brought all you scrubs together, no duh! Yeah, we’re doing this ‘cause it’s very important: there’s a good reason why you were brought here, honey, you just haven’t thought of it yet. Yeah, you guys really can’t leave Olympus until what we’re planning is over. Yeah, Zeus needs to take a serious chill pill and stop taking the viagra kind.”
Hera’s mouth briefly twisted into a smirk at those words as Zeus’ face turned beet red. She waved at Hermes to continue reading, this time not bothering to shut down the giggles. The messenger god did so with a smirk of his own, but it died away as he read the next sentence.
“But okay, so, here’s the reason why we’re even doing this in the first place: the worst is yet to come.”
Well, that sure killed the mood quickly.
Then again, Leo couldn’t blame the other demigods—he himself had frozen stiff in fear. Something even worse than what he’d already gone through? He… he didn’t even want to think about that.
“The Second Titanomachy was already baaaaaaad. Y’all were already buggin’ so much I thought you were about to fly away! But yeah, this event was at least just as bad. Far worse, by some metrics. Soooooo… yeah. Bad stuff. Not to mention that it led to even worse crud, things even I don’t really wanna remember - so yeah. In summary… nicht gut. Pas bon.”
“And there’s only one guy here who lived through that: Leo Valdez. Yep, that’s right, folks, the guy comes from the future."
Hermes’ grave silence was marked by Hera’s glare piercing through Leo as he processed his words.
…Oh.
Oh.
So that was why he was here. In hindsight, it should’ve been kinda obvious: what was the one thing that set him apart from literally everyone else in the room? Having lived through the giants’ uprising, that was what.
“...Him?” someone muttered, and that was the start of a new round of whispers, all building up to an uncontrollable mess of noise.
The sudden stares definitely didn’t help with the situation, either: it was as if the ground itself was drawing away from him, making him feel more alone than ever. Even Will tensed next to him, and Leo didn’t dare meet his eyes. Hermes cleared his throat, looking distinctly uncomfortable, before moving on.
“The five books we sent will tell the whole story, from beginning to epilogue. Top book on the pile goes first and so on. No skipping chapters, don’t kill each other, everyone here’s gotta pay attention to every word, no leaving until all the books are read from top to bottom - yadda, yadda, yadda. Y’all get it. I mean, you guys can totally 100% get breaks and sleep and wander ‘round Olympus and whatever, but yeah, none of y’all can actually exit. Sorry, Ares, I know you wanted to watch that professional wrestling match - if it helps, time’s gonna be as frozen as an ice cube until the books are donezo.”
“The books are separated into chapters, so I’d kinda recommend each of you read out loud one chapter at time - we don’t want any dry throats here! You can even get Leo to explain stuff in between words, or maybe even get him to read a chapter himself. But… phew, speaking of him, bringing Leo and the books here was some work, let me tell you! Lots of us had to cooperate here - Phanes, Ananke, the Fates… even Psyche got into it! We kinda needed her and a few others to bring Leo back safely, which leads me to my next point.”
A sharp crack rang out as the lipstick Aphrodite was fiddling with snapped in half.
“Leo’s mainly here to give context to what you will read! Y’all can just ask ‘What’s the 411?’ anytime and Santa Claus Elf there will start dishin’ the hot goss! But, at the same time… I kinda have a feeling he’ll end up learning a hell of a lot. Honestly, it’s for your own good, Leo!”
For his own good? Honestly, he could have snorted out loud—instead, he just did so in his mind. This was more torture than anything else, he was certain, and he had an inkling of who was behind this scheme; definitely not Chronos, at least, because the guy sounded kinda… not all there. Definitely a little bit loco.
“But at the same time, it reaaaally wouldn’t be fun if he could just tell you all what exactly is gonna happen, right? It’d be like watching the ads right before a movie and someone stands up and shouts out the entire plot! Except this time I guess everyone in there would want him to do it… but that’s no fun! Nemesis said so and I agree. She also said something about ‘truly getting the meaning’ and ‘internalizing lessons’ but I wasn’t really listening.”
Nemesis… he knew it. Leo had to concentrate really damn hard to not let any sparks leap off his hands. Will might feel them, if nothing else, and he didn’t exactly want to startle the guy.
Of course it wouldn’t have been that easy—of course the goddess would want to make him pay the price for coming back to life. Helping everyone else out and creating a better future was just a trifling side-effect, he was sure of it. Would she ever stop making his life hell? Probably not. Besides, Nemesis the kind of crazy lady to cackle over a burning orphanage and say that the kids’ deaths were payback for surviving their abandonment. It made sense that she'd want to continue messing with him. 'Leo Valdez survived when he wasn't supposed to, thus getting the first ever break in his whole miserable life? Let's just correct that.'
...Maybe she considered the war against the Giants and what came afterwards bad enough that she felt this warning was fair enough? Because if that was true… jeez, he didn’t want to think about it.
“Anyways, it’d be like spoilers, right? Quite horrific, spoilers are. So another rule is no spoilers! Spoiling the spoiling would spoil the spoiled and spoil the spoilsport’s spoiling attitude. Any time Leo is gonna try to communicate in any way to tell you something that hasn’t happened in the books yet, he won’t be able to. Like, uh, LITERALLY won’t be able to. So don’t ask him.”
Oh no, this made this bad situation even worse. So that was what had happened when he’d tried to talk about Festus—jeez, Festus was a spoiler? What else? That he was the kid of Hephaestus? That he knew Percy and Annabeth? That Hazel and Frank existed—oh gods, how would they react upon learning about the Roman camp?
Wait, if they were gonna be reading his whole journey, top to bottom, would that include stuff like Calypso? The Physician’s Cure? Tartarus—no, he couldn’t let that sort of news go smack them all square in the face, damn it. He’d find a work around: that’s what he did best. Sign language, writing riddles, anything, or at least just try to hint at something unpleasant coming on soon.
And if the end of the book described his death… well, he’d deal with that when it came.
"And, uh, I think that’s about it! Enjoy, relax, and learn about the future. I really hope this plan works: I know it’s a long shot, but we didn’t have any real better options, and trust me… anything would be better than the future where we’re at right now. Even this.”
A collective shiver went around the room: even Leo felt a chill go up his spine. Hermes was a really good narrator, delivering the sentence with all the seriousness it expressed. Maybe TOO good a narrator.
“And second-most important of all, enjoy! Come on, guys, Leo is from the FUTURE! Isn’t that cool?”
“Not when the future he comes from is a horrible one that we have to prevent,” someone murmured from his other side, and Leo nearly tripped over his shoelaces when he saw Drew Tanaka sneering at the note. She was younger, obviously, like everyone else, but something else caught his eye. The Drew he’d known had looked… bitter, mainly, when she wasn’t being a bitch. This one just looked tired. Did something happen?
“Anyways, that’s about it FOR REALS now, I promise. Just… you better use what you learn here wisely, and Leo… it’ll be fine, really. Love, Chronos; the most awesome god this side of the universe.”
Hermes lowered the note, his expression unreadable. The silence that followed his words seemed to stretch on forever, everyone too consumed with their thoughts to even take notice - until it was shattered with a loud sigh.
“If it must be done, then… it must be done,” Hera said, and though she was holding a hand to her forehead, her words were as sharp as ever. “Hermes and Dionysus, bring food and drinks. Demeter, sister, please set up accomodation for our mortal guests. Hestia, could you bring me the books? I will set up the seating in a circle for the reading.”
Her words woke everyone up into action: the named gods vanished in an instant without any real protest, off to do their assigned tasks (which really surprised Leo, to be honest), while the assorted campers moved towards the seating Hera had summoned with a wave of her hand. From a bird’s-eye view, it would’ve looked like a target, with various rings of sofas, beanbags and blankets. The inner ring was also partly composed of the gods’ thrones, now human sized, on which they sat.
Leo remembered what had happened, back in his first ever quest - when they’d freed Hera from her cage. Hera had been described as the glue that kept the Olympians together. Maybe that’s what that had meant: she was the kickstarter electrical spark, the one to nag and push everyone into action, whether they liked it or not.
He tried to hang back to avoid the whispers and the stares (hopefully they’d get tired of looking at him soon, jeez), but a hand grabbed his wrist and pulled him forward, and he found himself looking at Will Solace’s sympathetic face.
“Will, I—”
“Don’t worry about it.” The son of Apollo held up a hand, shaking his head. “I mean, it’s weird and all, but… you don’t have to feel guilty. You literally couldn’t—can’t—tell us anything until we learn about it from the books. It’s not your fault.”
Leo had no real answer to that, so he just let Will continue.
“Besides…” The son of Apollo trailed off, shrugging. “We’ve all seen some really strange things. A time-traveller isn’t too bad to wrap my head around, especially since I don’t think you’re here to kill us all.” Will raised an eyebrow when Leo didn’t reply. “I mean, I hope so, at least.” His light-hearted (if a bit forced) tone made it clear that was meant to be a joke, but Leo still found it a bit hard to face Will’s grin.
“You don’t have to do this, you know,” Leo said, but he let himself be dragged off into the inner ring anyways. It wasn’t as if he had a better plan, to be honest, and Will was a friend. If he had to name his most trusted friend and neither the Argo II crew nor his siblings counted, then… he’d honestly probably say Will.
He still ducked everytime he heard someone mutter his name and cringed at the way everyone looked at him: he didn’t know which was worse, the widened awe or the narrowed suspicion. Luckily, nobody stopped them, and soon enough Will all but pushed him into a comfy four-seater.
“Austin, Kayla, here!” he called out, and Leo’s stomach sank like a rock—this would probably be a disaster. He waved at two other campers: an African-American guy that exuded poshness and a ginger girl with a wild smirk that petered out when she saw Leo next to Will. Leo vaguely recognized them both as Apollo campers, but couldn’t remember anything else as they both trudged towards their sofa.
Will, ever reliable, felt the tension, and the smile he summoned up was so bright Leo was wishing he was wearing sunglasses. “Leo, these are two of my godly siblings, Austin Lake and Kayla Knowles. Austin, Kayla—well, you know already, but this is Leo Valdez. Treat him well, okay?”
Austin and Kayla offered their own vague greetings, and Leo knew that this wouldn’t end well. He wondered how long it would take before Kayla would try to stick an arrow through his nose.
Suddenly, a few bowls with snacks and a pitcher full of water appeared on the floor in front of them. Hermes waved at the three Apollo kids, then nodded at Leo, mouth drawn into a tight line, before flashing by to the next group.
Will sat down between the two campers and him, and offered Leo a comforting pat on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, Austin and Kayla are just a bit worried and lost right now. You guys’ll get along great, I know it.”
Leo didn’t answer, and Will settled back on his seat with a sigh before beginning to chat with his two siblings. Judging from their heated whispering, they must have been talking about him; he thought he caught his name once or twice.
He took the chance to scan the rest of the inner ring.
He was on the right-most seat of the sofa: to his right was a mass of beanbags occupied by Rachel Elizabeth Dare, the camp’s Oracle. She flippantly waved when she noticed him looking. Leo waved back; he hadn’t spoken more than five words with Rachel, but she seemed friendly.
Then came the Stoll brothers, trying to push each other off a luxurious armchair. Next to them, Clovis dozed off in a blanket on the floor while Lou Ellen tried to stack Rubik’s cubes on top of his head.
Drew was next, sitting a couple of feet away from her siblings; Lacy and Mitchell in particular were holding a hushed conversation, sometimes throwing looks her way. Katie was brading Miranda’s hair, and Malcolm was frowning at Leo, his expression calculating: Leo hurriedly averted his gaze.
Then came the gods in their thrones; all of them were accounted for, so Demeter must have finished. The little girl he’d seen earlier settled down on the floor between Apollo and Artemis, and Leo realized that must have been Hestia, the goddess of the hearth.
After the gods came the Hunters of Artemis, and Leo winced; he hadn’t exactly left the best first impression with them, and he wasn’t exactly looking forward to reliving (relistening to?) that experience. Phoebe the awesome hot chocolate-maker was chatting with some of her companions (Celine? Noemi?), but Thalia Grace was instead in conversation with Annabeth, who nodded gravely.
And of course, next to Annabeth was Percy; he was sharing a bean bag with Grover Underwood the satyr. Nico di Angelo sat down a few paces away, face unreadable, but his features quickly morphed into a terrifying glare when he saw that Leo was looking.
He quickly moved on to Clarisse la Rue, the girl that looked like she could beat up ten of him at once. Normally she was intimidating, but right then she was smiling as she talked with Chris Rodriguez, whom Leo was pretty sure was her boyfriend. Jake and Nyssa—gods, his siblings; his heart tightened a bit at the thought—filled in the circle, looking at their father on his throne.
Poseidon clapped his hands, gaining the room’s attention. From the way Percy had normally described him, the guy was usually kind, but right now he was all business. “If everyone is ready, we should begin to read. The note said that we should first read the top book on the stack, correct?”
If he had to be honest, Leo wondered how much of that kindness was only because of Percy being his son. If he had to be cynical, he also sometimes thought about just how much of that kindness and love for Percy was only born out of his accomplishments giving Poseidon a son to be proud of, because the rest of the sons of Poseidon he’d met… well, they’d all tried to kill him.
But this wasn’t the time for that.
As expected, Zeus visibly bristled (probably pissed that someone other than him was leading) but offered no verbal protest. Instead, he just nodded, as did the rest of the gods.
“Is there anyone here who would like to begin?” Hera followed up, looking around the ring. Most demigods shied away, including Leo. Thalia and Annabeth both glared back.
After a moment, Hermes spoke up with a shrug. “If nobody else wants to, I can. We can go clockwise from here.” Nobody objected, so the books passed from Hera’s hands to Hermes’ in a wave of a hand.
Leo dug his fingers into his thighs. Nemesis had had a hand in this, so if there was one thing Leo could be certain of, it was that this would not be pleasant for him. What would those books say?
Hermes frowned down at the book, confusion briefly flashing over his youthful face. “The cover is blank, and the spine only has a name. The book’s name is ‘The Lost Hero’.”
Leo nearly jolted out of his seat. The Lost Hero? Jason first came to mind—if this was the beginning of the war against the giants, then… would this book be about Jason, Piper and him freeing Hera? But maybe they were not in chronological order (he briefly took a moment to curse out Chronos). Percy might fit too, kidnapped and lost for months. Or maybe even him, lost on Calypso's island…
No. No. He shook his head. Leo Valdez, a hero? Definitely not; at least, not when compared to everyone else in the crew.
Around him, the conversations had mostly died down: the inner ring was completely silent, all looking at Hermes in expectation.
At least they had finally stopped looking at Leo.
Hermes turned the first page, then cleared his throat. “Okay, so the first chapter is called… Jason I.”
And Leo knew, with a sudden coldness that hit him at his heart, that this would be about the quest to free Hera. It didn’t make him panic, though—now, it just made him even more determined.
He knew Chronos’ rules; they kept bouncing around in his head, constantly mocking him with their existence. He couldn’t smile or laugh his way out of this. Everyone in this room would have to know about everything that had happened. This was Nemesis’ punishment, and this was Nemesis’ blessing, and all Leo was expected to do was shut up (except when needed, of course) and take it.
Screw that noise. So Chronos thought that warning anyone about what he’d lived through was impossible? Leo lived to thwart the impossible. He’d done it by surviving his childhood, he’d done it by beating the Earth herself, and he’d do it here. If he could just hint at what’d happen in any way, he could try to lessen the emotional blow. He could try to make his friends hurt less; maybe even get this over and done with quicker.
Well, that final thought settled it. It was game on.