Annabeth III

The air was thick with something I couldn’t quite describe—a mix of tension, dread, and the sharp, metallic scent of blood. It weighed down on my lungs, making it harder to breathe, harder to think clearly. My mind raced, darting from one thought to the next, a familiar chaotic stream of consciousness that I fought to control, to direct even more now. I had to focus. I had to figure out a way out of this. But all I could do was stare at the god before us, my stomach twisting into knots, my heart pounding in my chest.

Ares.

He stood there, not as a man, but as something far older, far darker. His presence alone made the world seem smaller, more fragile. The air around him shimmered, distorted like heatwaves rising from a scorched battlefield. Looking at him, it was clear to me that He was violence incarnate, the blood of countless battles dripping from the edge of time. He wore the face of a man—handsome, rugged, with eyes like red storm clouds—but it was a mask, a thin veneer that barely hid the monstrosity underneath.

“Zeus sent me to kill you, you know,” Ares said, his voice a deep, mocking rumble that seemed to reverberate through the earth. “Thought you were a threat. That first blast—” He waved a hand dismissively, as if the destruction of entire city blocks was of no consequence, as if people hadn’t died. “That was just to say hello. If I’d wanted you dead, you’d be a smear on the pavement.”

I felt bile rise in my throat, but I forced it down. I couldn’t show weakness. Not in front of him. Not when everything about him screamed danger, screamed *run*. But running wasn’t an option. Not when he could strike us down with a single thought.

Beside me, Percy stood tall, unflinching. There was something about him—something *more*—that I couldn’t quite put into words. He wasn’t afraid, or if he was, he didn’t show it. He faced Ares like a man would face a storm, not with resignation, but with a kind of quiet defiance. It was as if he was ready to be swept up in the hurricane, to meet it head-on, rather than seek shelter. The wind whipped through his hair, his eyes dark and unyielding like the depths of the ocean. He looked... beautiful, almost as divine as the Olympian but in a more pleasant way as if he was the ocean’s breeze surrounding me, promising to protect. It was in the way his presence filled the space, the air humming with energy around him. Half god I remembered the words of his brother. Half, not demi like us.

I blinked, startled by the thought, before shoving it to the back of my mind. *Focus, Annabeth.* This was Ares, a god, not some mortal enemy we could outwit or overpower no matter how I wished it could be the case. Alecto showed me that wisdom, strategy rarely fared well against beings of pure, of true power. Ares would be worse than Alecto. Percy was able to fight the fury to a standstill but it was while she hadn’t taken her true from. Could that be enough to fight, win, against Ares especially if we tried to help? Something in my heart told me no.

We needed a plan, a way to get out of this alive. But how? How do you escape from War itself?

Ares took a step forward, and the ground seemed to shudder beneath his boot. “But I’ve decided to give you a chance,” he said, grinning like a wolf that had cornered its prey. “Find something for me, and I might just let you live. Sounds fair, doesn’t it?”

His voice was smooth, almost seductive, but there was an undercurrent of malice, a promise of violence that sent a shiver down my spine. I hated him. Every fiber of my being recoiled at the sight of him, at the sound of his voice. I wanted to scream, to lash out, but I couldn’t. All I could do was stand there, cold and impassive, pretending that his presence didn’t make me want to vomit.

“Why should we trust you?” I heard myself ask, the words leaving my mouth before I could stop them. My voice was steady, but inside, I was shaking. “You’re a god. You could kill us the moment we find whatever it is you want.”

Ares chuckled, a sound that was devoid of any real humor. It was a laugh that spoke of wars waged, of cities razed to the ground, of countless lives snuffed out in an instant. “True,” he said, his grin widening, showing teeth that were too sharp, too white. “But where’s the fun in that? I like a good chase. Besides, I’m giving you a chance to prove yourselves. Isn’t that what you, little half-bloods all crave? A little glory? A little victory? Additionally, I am war little half-blood. It is what feeds, strengthens me and makes me. The last time I had felt this good was when my bastard's half-siblings and the mortal spawns of my uncles were dunking all out more than half a century ago. Everything gotta end but why shouldn’t it last longer?”

My mind raced, trying to find the angle, the weakness in his words. Ares was toying with us, I knew that much. He could have killed us already, but he hadn’t. He was offering us a deal, and gods didn’t offer deals without a catch. The myths were clear proof of that. Even with what he said about war, a part of me couldn't but not believe that he was hiding something else, that he was lying to us with the truth. What was he playing at?

I glanced at Chrysaor, who stood slightly apart from us, his golden sword gleaming in the dim light. He seemed more godly, more divine unlike before. He looked like someone straight out of a myth. It was as if he had finally removed the veneer of humanity he never completely got rid of since the beginning of this quest. This was someone I could believe to be the son of two of some of the most known and feared figures in the Greek pantheon. Hfelt different from Ares, more restrained, yet there was an aura about him that was unmistakably godly. He wasn’t like Percy, who seemed to draw power from some deep, ancient source, who smelled like the ocean, the breeze, who felt soothing and like a protecting cocoon nor like Ares, who was violence wrapped in human flesh. Chrysaor was something like his brother but now I could clearly see, feel him, he reminded me of an abyss, of being crushed from all side by a storm. His presence felt sharp, too much.

His face was unreadable, his gaze fixed on the god of war, but there was something in his stance, a readiness to act, that made my pulse quicken. He wasn’t just standing there; he was waiting. For what, I didn’t know, but it was clear that Chrysaor wasn’t a passive observer.

“You’re wasting your breath, daughter of wisdom,” Percy’s older brother spoke, his voice calm, almost casual. He wasn’t looking at me, but at Ares, as if the god’s presence didn’t faze him at all. “Ares isn’t here to negotiate. He’s here to make us dance to his tune, to see how far we’ll go before we break.”

There was something in Chrysaor’s voice, something hard and unyielding, that made my chest tighten. He understood Ares in a way I didn’t, in a way I couldn’t. Maybe it was the connection between them—both of them being immortal beings who lived aeons, maybe it was because the both of them were warriors in their own right—but whatever it was, it gave the son of Medusa a kind of insight, a clarity that I could only grasp at.

Ares tilted his head, considering the other immortal’s words. “Smart boy, your little show in the sky earlier and the way you reacted to my greeting. I know there was a reason I liked you,” he said, his voice laced with a twisted sort of admiration. “You get it. But here’s the thing—I don’t care how far you go. I don’t care if you break. What I care about is the fight. The struggle. That’s what makes life worth living, isn’t it?”

He took another step forward, and the world seemed to darken around him, the shadows lengthening, the air growing colder. “So here’s the deal,” he continued, his eyes locking onto mine, pinning me in place. “You find what I’m looking for, and maybe, just maybe, I’ll let you walk away. But if you don’t—” He smiled, and it was the smile of a predator, a beast that had tasted blood and wanted more. “Well, I guess we’ll just have to see how much you can take before you break.”

I could feel my heart racing, my thoughts spiraling out of control. There was no way out, no escape from the grip of a god who embodied all the worst aspects of war and destruction. He wasn’t just Ares, the god of war—he was something else, something older, something that had existed long before humans had given him a name. He was the blood spilled on ancient battlefields, the cries of the dying, the smoke rising from burning cities. He was the darkness that lurked in the hearts of men, the primal urge to destroy, to conquer, to dominate.

And he was here, standing before us, wearing the face of a man, but barely containing the beast within.

I swallowed hard, trying to keep my voice steady. “What do you want us to find?”

Ares’ smile widened, and for a moment, I saw something in his eyes—a flicker of something dark and unfathomable, something that sent a chill down my spine. “Oh, you’ll know it when you see it, just follow the signs,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper, as if sharing a secret. “It’s not far from here. Just a little something I lost a while back. You bring it to me, and we’ll call it even.”

There was a finality in his tone that told me this wasn’t a request—it was a command. But there was something else, too, something I couldn’t quite place. Ares was playing a game, but I didn’t know the rules. All I knew was that we were pieces on his board, and he was the one moving us, pushing us toward something I couldn’t see, couldn’t predict.

I hated him. I hated everything about him—his arrogance, his cruelty, his complete disregard for human life. But most of all, I hated that he was right. We had no choice but to play his game, to dance to his tune, because there was no other option.

Percy nodded slowly, his eyes still locked on Ares. “Fine,” he said, his voice cold and hard. “We’ll find what you’re looking for. But if you’re lying—”

Ares laughed, a sound that made my skin crawl. “If I’m lying?” he echoed, his tone dripping with mockery. “What are you going to do, kid ? Fight me? Kill me? You couldn’t even if you tried. You struggled against one of my uncle’s winged bitches and she hadn’t even taken her true form. Do you think you can win against me, an Olympian, against me, Ares? But I’ll tell you this—if you find what I’m looking for, you’ll be doing yourself a favor. You’ll see.”

He turned then, as if he had already dismissed us from his thoughts, as if we were nothing more than insects buzzing around his head. “Go,” he said, waving a hand as if shooing us away. “Find it. Bring it to me. And maybe I’ll let you live.”

The ground trembled as he spoke, the earth groaning under the weight of his presence. The shadows seemed to stretch out, reaching for us, but they stopped just short, as if held back by some invisible force. Ares’ eyes glinted with something cold and ruthless, something that made me shiver despite myself.

And then he was gone, leaving nothing but the echo of his laughter and the lingering sense of dread that clung to my skin like oil.

For a moment, none of us moved. We just stood there, staring at the spot where Ares had been, the reality of what had just happened sinking in. My mind was racing, trying to piece together a plan, a way out, but there was nothing. We were trapped, caught in the web of a god who could crush us with a single thought, who could twist our lives into something unrecognizable if he so desired.

“We need to move,” Percy said finally, his voice cutting through the oppressive silence. “We don’t have much time.”

I nodded, forcing my legs to move, forcing myself to focus on the task ahead. We had a mission, a goal, and that was all I could allow myself to think about. The fear, the hatred, the despair—they were all distractions, and I couldn’t afford distractions. Not now. Not when the stakes were this high.

But as we walked away from the place where Ares had stood, I couldn’t help but feel a deep, gnawing sense of dread. Ares had given us a chance, but it wasn’t out of mercy. It was out of boredom, out of a twisted desire to see how far we would go, how much we could take before we broke.

And the worst part was, I didn’t know if we could win this game. I didn’t know if we could survive. It only made me want to scream.