Failure.

  A sentiment that Percy had been very familiar with, and unfortunately had grown accustomed to over the past three months of fruitless rebellion. They had failed. This shouldn’t have happened. They were the heroes, the fate of the world rested on their shoulders. They were supposed to win.

  Perseus Jackson, Hero of Olympus, dragged himself up to his feet, tearing his gaze away from the shattered planks of wood that he stood on. The Argo II…or Argo III, actually, rebuilt in record time by Hephaestus and Leo Valdez working day and night to give them a chance to even survive…they had no choice when the earth itself was their enemy.

  And now that masterpiece of a ship was crumbling like their hopes and dreams before Percy’s very eyes. And with it, their last ditch effort, their final stand, was falling apart as well. This was the literal end of the world. Up ahead, the last of the gods battled Gaia’s form, reborn and renewed at full power. Her power made Typhon look like a child…gods, it felt like ages since Percy saw his father take down the storm giant with the other Olympians.

  Percy ignored his aching limbs and bleeding wounds, leaping into battle once more. The Argo III’s crumbling deck was still swarmed by Gaia’s minions, and he desperately looked around for any of the few allies they had brought on this now-suicide mission. Their numbers were already so thin from the fall of Camp Half-Blood and Camp Jupiter…if not for Nico’s sacrifice, shadow warping as many people away at the cost of his life, they would all be dead right now.

  Percy would never forget the terrified but determined look in the Son of Hades’ eyes as he sent them away, against their will. Nico di Angelo had always been that type of person, willing to make the tough decisions that many would not agree with but had to be done regardless. His sacrifice had let them survive to fight another day.

  But as the weeks of war passed Percy had often wondered if it was worth it. Every day another god fell, and every day another friend died. Camp Jupiter was overrun, and Reyna would be the next to fall in the massacre that ensued after Terminus’ borders were overtaken by the Earth Mother.

  The gods fought valiantly, showing actual urgency and care for their dying children and the dying world. But it was too little, too late. Now, as the Argo III soared high above the ocean, they gave all their might to slow Gaia down, even if it was just one step, just one moment. Far enough to transform into their divine forms, Percy watched the distant battle as a golden light (Apollo, perhaps? Or Zeus?) was snatched out of the air by Gaia. She clenched her hand tightly, then let go, letting whoever was crushed inside fall freely. Percy didn’t see their light again. They wouldn’t last long. And the Seven on the ship wouldn’t last long either.

  Percy threw himself to the side as a huge sea serpent crashed onto the deck, wrapping its giant snaky body around the Argo III frighteningly quickly. Percy let out a battle cry as he lunged at the monster’s head, stabbing it in between its eyes, Riptide sinking deep in between the scales.

  “Percy! Move!” A shout came from above him, cutting through the sounds of death and fighting all around him.

  Obligingly, Percy let go of Riptide and launched himself into the air as the serpent reared up in pain, using its momentum to soar into the sky. If Zeus wasn’t preoccupied with the Earth Mother, Percy briefly wondered if the god would strike him down for flying. If only the worst he had to worry about was just Zeus’ paranoia.

  A huge lightning bolt streaked past him, striking the sword buried in the sea monster’s head. With an awful screech, the serpent went limp as voltage coursed through it, its body releasing the Argo III and falling down, down, down to the seas below. Percy watched it fall as he landed back on the wooden deck of the ship, and Jason Grace flew down, landing beside him.

  “Annabeth’s down.” Jason started, his face ashen and grave. “The rest of them…they need our help.”

  “Where is she?” Percy quietly answered, feeling his limbs tense up in fear. His breathing felt shallow as he tried not to think of the worst.

  “Come on.”

  The son of Jupiter and the son of Poseidon ran down the deck. There were so many monsters…Percy couldn’t even see the other side! He gritted his teeth as he felt Riptide return to his pocket.

  “Get out of my way!” He roared, brandishing his sword and killing three telekhines in one slash.

  Beside him, Jason sent half a dozen monsters flying off the deck with a burst of wind. Percy spun forward, cutting down the rest in their way. Up ahead was a group of demigods standing over a huge fallen figure. The Seven Heroes of Olympus stared down a writhing giant with marble-white eyes, who struggled weakly under the weight of a huge gray dragon.

  “There you two are!” Piper ran forward first, her face covered in ash and blood. “We’ve got him pinned for now…but without a god, we can’t kill him–”

  “How’s Annabeth?” Percy interrupted harshly, immediately feeling guilty as the girl flinched at his terse tone. “Sorry, I just...”

  “It’s fine. She’s alive, but…” Piper winced, leading them closer. Behind the wrestling dragon and giant was a blonde-haired girl sitting against the bow, hands pressed to her stomach. Even with her blocking it, Percy could see the blood seeping from the large gash.

  “Percy…” Annabeth rasped as he approached. Percy dropped to his knees to her level, panic rising as he stared at the wound. Were those organs slipping out?!

  He tore his gaze away from the injury before he could gag at the sight, meeting her eyes instead. Like all of them, her skin was smeared with dust and blood. But her grey eyes still glinted bright with determination.

  “It’s going to be okay…” Annabeth whispered, though her face was pale with anguish and pain. “We’re still…together…”

  Before Percy could respond, a dark, manic laugh came from behind him. It was Enceladus, chuckling darkly at their interaction. Giants apparently didn’t know how to read the room, it seemed.

  “What are you laughing at, Enchiladas?” Leo growled, uncharacteristically hostile. Though Percy supposed after all they’d been through, each of them had become more…on edge, to say the least. Next to Leo, the dragon atop the giant obligingly stomped harder on the giant, causing Enceladus to grunt in pain.

  “Just at your hopelessness, demigods.” The giant sneered despite the pain. “You cannot win, can’t you see? You will all die soon, starting with the Daughter of Wisdom!”

  “Shut up.” Percy responded, voice low and angry. “Frank, get him off the ship.”

  With a nod, the gray dragon obliged. Enceladus was dropped off the ship by his claws, laughing as he crashed into the ocean far below. That should give Percy and his friends some breathing room. The dragon flew back to the deck and dropped to the ground as an Asian demigod. “...He’s not wrong, you know. We’re losing too much ground.”

  Frank's monotone tone did nothing to keep the misery out of his voice. Hazel quickly stepped forward, grabbing his hand. “We can’t just give up and die yet, though! We have to keep fighting…right?”

  Hazel, is always the most hopeful one. The youngest one out of them…she was barely 15 years old. And she was going to die, Percy realized. For the second time. How could she still remain determined after everything that had happened? Percy clenched his hands, unable to look at anything but the ground.

  “No, Hazel. No, you don’t.” The dispassionate, inhumane voice snapped Percy into alert.

  It was Gaia’s voice. He knew that instantly, even before looking up. And if she was talking to them, that meant she had defeated the gods…and they were the last ones standing.

  Indeed, Gaia’s huge form walked toward them, step by step. Her sixty-foot tall frame crushed everything in her way, as land formed on the waters she stepped on, giving her a clear path toward the Seven. Behind her, a few dying lights flickered gold, silver, and red. Soon, they wouldn’t have any light at all.

  “Your gods are dead. Your allies have fallen. You have lost.” The Earth Mother proclaimed with finality, stepping close to the Argo III. Her face on an equal level as the sinking ship, Percy found himself staring into her much larger eyes, pools of green that carried a millennium of malevolence and cruelty, which sharply contrasted with her calm, serene smile. “Your world is destroyed. Surrender and bow to me, and I may let your deaths be quick.”

  Percy felt his blood boil at her uncaring, dispassionate words. Anger clouded his despair, and he raised his head and responded to Gaia with a simple glare.

  “Dirt Face, we’re not going down that easy.” Leo snapped, summoning a flame in his hands. It burned hot and bright, reigniting the last vestiges of determination in the seven.

  “He’s right.” Frank growled, his arm wrapping around Hazel, who looked at him in proud surprise. “If we’re going down, we’re taking you down too.”

  “Do you honestly believe you can do that, Son of Mars?” Gaia chuckled carelessly. “Seven demigods against a protogenoi?”

  “You want to find out?” Piper unsheathed her sword with a sickly-sweet smile, Zethes’ old blade as chilling as her honeyed voice. “We’ve done the impossible before, you know.”

  Gaia narrowed her eyes, not refuting the statement. Jason rose into the air, winds swirling around him. He met Gaia’s gaze silently, and Percy could feel the ozone buzzing as he did. Percy looked at Annabeth, locking eyes with her. His best friend, his other half, his everything.

  So many feelings were expressed with no words. Percy supposed at this point, they didn’t need words anymore. They knew each other…and they both knew what had to be done. Annabeth staggered to her feet, somehow picking up her sword. She nodded firmly, and that was all Percy needed.

  “You heard us, Gaia,” Percy spoke with deadly calm, feeling the ocean rage below him, ready and waiting to answer his call. “You’re not getting anything from us.”

  He quickly glanced at each one of his friends. They had been through so much together, fought so many enemies, and bonded over time and trial. Percy couldn’t help but smile as he faced what would be certain, imminent death. He couldn’t choose a better group of friends to go out with a bang.

  “If we can’t save the world, Gaia…” Percy took a deep breath, and he could feel his friends tensing up, ready to attack. “Then you’d be damn sure we’ll avenge it!”

  And sure, Percy may have stolen that line. But he was done running away from his problems. He decided this time he would run toward his problems, instead of fleeing from them. That’s what heroes do, after all.

  She is the weaver of fate, the watcher of time. Her threads of destiny have strung all events known to mankind, and her strings are connected to billions of lives.

  And now, those strings are snapping one by one. Gaia’s power continues to rage without restraint, every corner of her domain being ravaged by earthquakes and volcanoes. The only hope to end the destruction now was seven heroes fighting her at this very moment.

  And they were losing. Their final efforts were valiant, but ultimately not enough. She watches as Frank Zhang’s dragon form is torn to pieces by the primordial goddess, as Annabeth Chase dies of blood loss, and as Piper McLean is thrown into the mast of the falling ship with so much force it shatters the wood as well as her bones.

  She watches as the master creation sinks faster and faster, as the remaining heroes fight fruitlessly, their weakening limbs moved only by the rage from seeing their friends fall. Yet Leo Valdez’s flames begin to falter as Gaia strikes again and again, until his fire finally vanishes under a mountain of dirt and stone.

  Hazel Levesque’s power over the Mist has kept her alive so far, but one falter is all Gaia needs, just one hesitation. It does not take much longer for her to find it, the daughter of Pluto is forcibly wrenched out of her protective magic, and crushed in the grip of the Earth Mother.

  The last two summon a storm of godly proportions, a useless final stand that even they must realize. Yet they do not let up, swords flashing as they are surrounded by wind, waves, and lightning.

  Yet even they eventually fall as the Argo III explodes in a fiery blast, a last resort from its late creator. The Earth Mother stumbles back with a face full of flames…but when she opens her wounded, angry eyes, there are none left to oppose her.

  The weaver cannot help but sigh. She did not expect this conclusion, despite her omnipotence over fate, future, and destiny. She did not anticipate the heroes failing, and Gaia returning the world to its original state, devoid of humans and gods.

  To storm or fire the world must fall. Even the weaver of fate isn’t sure how this will take place exactly. There are fates where the son of Jupiter deals the final blow, where the son of Poseidon finishes the earth goddess off. And her personal prediction was of the son of Hephaestus burning her away, supported by his friends and family to miraculously destroy Gaia with his final breath.

  Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

  But now there is no way for the prophecy to come to fruition, it seems. She has never seen such a thing in all her millennia of watching and predicting. She has never expected such a sudden turn of events…

  She had never expected she would ever have to intervene.

  Seven threads, all cut short. Their length ran on, but they had already been suddenly separated, their lives ended on the string. She seamlessly plucks each one out of the air and begins to spin new lengths upon them.

  Or, not exactly ‘new’ lengths. She takes their threads and reruns them, bringing them into a circle and turning back the thread of fate. She will change their fate, and to do so their past must be changed as well.

  Seven threads. One sea green, one electric blue. One silver-gray, another opalescent pink. One a shining gold, one a war-like red, and another a blazing orange. Seven threads to remain constant and unchanged in this new loom of fate and time.

  With one final pull, the weaving was completed. The weaver placed the loom back down, as the universe’s destiny began to change and warp, collapsing in on itself to return to the past.

  ‘May your destiny be kinder this time, heroes.’ With her choice made, Anake, the primordial goddess of fate, returned to her watching once again.

  “You drool in your sleep.”

  …huh? What was this? Percy stared blankly as twelve-year-old Annabeth watched him warily, her expression guarded. Was his life flashing before his eyes?

  Shouldn’t that have happened before he died, though? Percy was pretty sure that the last explosion killed him…it certainly felt like it did. Quick but very painful. Though it wasn’t like he had ever died before, so who was he to judge?

  He blinked uncomprehendingly at Annabeth. She looked so young again, so full of energy, so…alive. Percy hadn’t seen her truly like this since…gods, since she judo-flipped him in New Rome.

  As Percy stared at the now almost foreign face, he tried not to think of Annabeth growing more and more pale as she bled out on the Argo III. “Is this how dying works? Can’t say I’m not happy if this is the last thing I see before I go see ol’ Corpse Breath.”

  He rambled on cheerfully, ignoring Annabeth’s reaction. “I’d rather relive the underwater kiss though. Or maybe that time in the Labyrinth you called me a hero—actually, that didn’t turn out too well, didn’t it?”

  Percy was just spouting out nonsense now, letting his mind distract itself. Before he could continue his crazy talk, however, Annabeth suddenly lunged forward. Was she trying to kill him? Did she not agree with his picks? Percy thought they were pretty good moments, in his opinion.

  To his surprise, though, Annabeth wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace, burying her face into his shoulder. He heard the quiet muffled sounds of what could be sobs, effectively shutting him up. Through them, she choked out a few watery words. “You’re back…you’re actually…back.”

  “I’m…back?” Percy tried to process her words. This was real? He was actually…back? Twelve again? He looked at his hands and feet quickly.

  Annabeth nodded silently, and Percy dumbfoundedly dragged a hand through his hair. He was back…this wasn’t a dream or flashback, or even a hallucination. Annabeth was hugging him in clear relief, and that was all the proof he needed.

  Of course, that didn’t mean that explained everything. None of this made sense, the rational side of Percy argued. But Annabeth was in his arms, warm, happy, and alive. Who needed rational thinking right now?

  “Was…was I always this short?”

  Annabeth laughed, a mixed half-chuckle half-sob. “You remember?”

  “I remember it all. Fighting Gaia, failing, and l-losing you.” Percy stuttered at the last words, clinging tighter to her like she would disappear if he let go. “Annabeth, I’m so, so sorry—“

  “Shh.” She pressed a finger to his lips. “It's okay. We’re still together. As long as we’re together, right?”

  Percy fell silent for a long moment, wondering if he would ruin the mood if he cried. Then he decided he didn’t care if he ruined the mood.

  It took several minutes for the tears to stop falling and the sobs to stop rising. Taking a shaky breath, Percy quietly asked, “Is it just us? Who…y’know…remember?”

  Annabeth was similarly quiet, but a small smile formed on her face. She snuggled deeper into Percy’s arms. “I don’t know…but something tells me we’re not the only ones.”

  Percy wasn’t sure how to interpret that, but one thing he did know: never bet against Annabeth.

  Aw, again? I didn’t even do anything this time… Leo grumbled to himself, trudging through the sewer he had woken up in. He glared at the ground, daring it to form into Gaia’s face.

  Actually, he wouldn’t be too mad if it did. Throwing fire at Dirt Face always lightened his mood. Leo sighed, lighting his finger on fire for light. “Which sewer is this? I think…this way?”

  A little flicker of hope burned inside him, despite his annoyance at getting sent back to his younger, even scrawnier body. Fate really wanted Leo Valdez back again? Then Leo Valdez would show fate business.

  Leo knew this was a second chance, one that he desperately wished for when he realized he and Festus had failed to destroy Gaia. This time he would make things different. He could fix things now like he fixed machines. And maybe this time, Leo’s plan would work and defeat Gaia…

  More importantly, he was sent back five and a half years in time. Which meant a certain goddess was stuck on Ogygia, waiting alone. Leo was going to change some things, that was for sure. But he wouldn’t change this choice in a thousand years.

  An oath to keep with a final breath. Leo didn’t care; he was making that line of the prophecy his. “I will find you again Calypso. I swear it on the River Styx.”

  This couldn’t be real, right? This had to be some sort of illusion, some sort of hallucination.

  He can’t believe it. He doesn’t want to believe it.

  He doesn’t want to hope.

  “What’s wrong?” She smiles kindly at him, and he feels like he will crumble then and there.

  There are so many things he wants to say. Yet he can’t say a single thing, his voice catching in his throat. He can feel the tears welling up already, and there is nothing he can do to stop them.

  “Why are you crying, Fai Zhang?” The older woman snapped, but he knew by now that it was her way of showing concern.

  “Mother, it’s fine if he cries.” Emily Zhang chided. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”

  “Y–yeah.” Even to him, it sounds pathetically weak. Frank Zhang, Praetor of the Twelfth Legion, a Hero of Olympus, who faced giant after giant without even trembling, now had weak limbs and spilling tears from just a few words from his mother. “Just…I just had a bad nightmare, that’s all.”

  A partial truth. It could have actually been a vivid, prophetic nightmare, he supposes. But Frank can feel it inside him like the pain from another lifetime is buried in his bones. That death and destruction had happened.

  And he can’t let it happen again.

  “Aren’t you a little old to be bothering us late at night with nightmares?” Grandma Zhang raised an eyebrow at him, her voice accusing. Perhaps if he didn’t have his memories, Frank would glare right back, hurt and confused.

  With that, he knew this was real. This was Al real, and Frank couldn’t help but tearfully smile. He rushed forward with his new (old?) stubby legs. His family was back.

  But as he hugged his mother eagerly (to her slight confusion), there was a nagging voice in the back of Frank’s head.

  What about his other family?

  What about Hazel?

  Hazel was a little upset. She woke up in the Underworld, as expected. However, she quickly realized there was something wrong. For one, she was in the Fields of Asphodel. That wasn’t right. She deserved Elysium after going through so much, right?

  Right? Or maybe not…she had risen Alcyoneus so long ago and started Gaia’s plan to overthrow the gods. When looking at it that way…this was all her fault.

  No! Hazel shook her head furiously. No, she couldn’t think like that. Her friends, her family, would disagree with a passion every time she even implied such a thing. Hazel refused to fall into despair and self-loathing again. She was sick of it.

  Where was Frank? Where were the others? Were they in Elysium? Was it just her put in Asphodel? No, that can’t be right. There was no trial. There was no procedure. How did she just end up in Asphodel?

  It didn’t make sense. But she was alone.

  Hazel sat under a polar tree, pulling her knees toward her chest and burying her face. Was this her destiny? To sit in Asphodel again, waiting for Gaia to take over the Underworld? Why did she always end up alone, abandoned?

  Hazel sniffled, miserably wishing someone could hear her and care. “This sucks.”

  It felt like years passed, but time was not a constant in the Underworld. For all she knew, Gaia might not have finished even fighting the last of the Seven. So when a shimmering rainbow appeared next to her, Hazel took a few moments to actually register that something different had happened.

  “-zel. Hazel! Are you there?”

  Hazel almost sobbed in relief, because she recognized that voice. “Percy?! You’re…you’re alive?!”

  In the shining golden ring, two faces formed from the rainbow, bright with excitement as they saw her. “Hazel! It worked!”

  “Percy! Annabeth!” Hazel cried out, quickly wiping her eyes. “I…I almost thought you guys abandoned me.”

  They blinked in surprise as Hazel winced at her impulsive confession. Fortunately, they didn’t seem offended, but Hazel couldn’t help but want to curl up into a ball again to avoid their concerned gazes.

  “How could we ever do that?” Annabeth tentatively asked.

  “I—I’m the only one in Asphodel,” Hazel mumbled despairingly. “I don’t know why they put me here, but when I woke up I was here.”

  Percy exchanged a quick look with Annabeth, and they nodded slightly. Before Hazel could ask, Percy quickly said, “Hazel, we would never forget about you. And besides, we’re not dead either. None of us are dead. We’re in the past!”

  “...What?”

  “We’re at Camp Half-Blood right now,” Annabeth informed her, a smile dawning on her face as she said it. “It’s like it never got destroyed.”

  “Because it hasn’t been.” Percy deadpanned, and Annabeth slapped him lightly on the arm.

  “You know what I meant. Me and Percy are twelve again. Jason’s in Camp Jupiter, and Frank’s on his way there too. Leo and Piper are heading to Camp Half-Blood.”

  “We’re in the past, but we remember the future. Everyone’s alive, and Gaia won’t rise for years,” Percy added. “Hazel…this is our second chance. Well, your third, I guess.”

  What was she supposed to say? Hazel stared at the two with bulging eyes, wondering if they were pulling her leg (was that the right way to use that phrase? She didn’t really understand modern slang). Because if what they said was true…

  This was the past. She and the others had returned to before…before everything went wrong. They were alive .

  “...oh. I mean…oh.” Hazel numbly responded, unable to think of anything else to say.

  “Hey, that’s what I say.” Percy grinned playfully.

  Annabeth laughed as well, but her eyes quickly became serious. “Just hang tight. We’ll find a way to bring you back soon, Hazel. And this time, we’ll defeat Gaia and win .”

  Tap. Tap. Tap.

  Her foot rhythmically tapped the floor as she tried not to scream. She couldn’t help but curse her luck. Why now? Why did she have to regain her memories right now?

  What was the problem with right now? Well, Piper McLean, daughter of Aphrodite and the Heart of the Seven, had just been arrested.

  And of course, she would remember everything right after the police officer put her in the interrogation room. Or at least she assumed it was an interrogation room. It was just an empty room in the police station, with nothing but the chair she was sitting on and a table in front of her. If that wasn’t an interrogation room, Piper didn’t know what was.

  She grumbled to herself. Piper remembered this incident pretty clearly. The first time she faced actual consequences for using her charmspeak to steal. She regretted it so much as she sat and waited for her dad to come bail her out, telling herself she would never do it again.

  But when he arrived and started fussing over her, giving her attention for the first time in what felt like years, it made it hard to stop. Piper began stealing more and more, bigger and better things, many of which definitely deserved jail time.

  But this one was just a poster of the new King of Sparta! Did that really warrant arrest?

  She sighed, feeling her legs fall asleep. How long had she been in here? Long enough to sort out all her thoughts and realize she had been sent back in time. Long enough for Percy and Annabeth to IM her and update her on the situation. And long enough to decide she was going to head to Camp Half-Blood ASAP and change things for the better with her friends.

  If she could ever get out of here, that is. Did it take this long last time?

  Maybe she should just charmspeak her way out of here. But Piper had no idea if her charmspeak was still as strong as it was in the past-future. What if she couldn’t keep it up and failed? Not even her dad could bail her out of trying to escape custody…Piper groaned and lay her head on the table.

  “Ugh…I wish Jason were here.” She muttered to herself. “Hope he’s having a better time…”

  Jason was not having a better time.

  He was home, that was for sure. But it didn’t feel as homely as Jason thought it would. No one knew him, and those who did know him knew him as ‘the son of Jupiter’, the ‘golden boy of the legion’. Frank wasn’t at Camp Jupiter yet, and Jason was really missing his old friends. Lupa would be quite disappointed in his weakness.

  Besides, being back at Camp Jupiter, while nostalgic and relieving, also made Jason remember why he had a mental list of what to change about the Roman camp. It was so traditional . Their rules were too conventional. And there were so many power plays and infighting within the legion. There was a reason why Jason had joined the Fifth Cohort.

  Being on the Argo II let him stand among equals, instead of being treated like a prince in Camp Jupiter. They looked at him for everything, expecting that just because he was the Son of Jupiter he was the perfect leader. Now, Jason was quickly beginning to feel the rising discomfort every time probatios looked at him with admiring, expecting eyes.

  In his first life, Jason had built his entire legionnaire career on careful, planned choices. He followed all the rules and became the ideal Roman. Jason had put away his personal trepidations and did everything right. Now, with the memories of a past life, Jason knew he didn’t want to take the part of the perfect hero again. So, he wasn’t sure what to do.

  Until Frank appeared and stood in front of the legion with a cranky old woman beside him.

  “Who will stand for—”

  “I will!” Jason immediately stepped forward, with no hesitation. All eyes were drawn to him, including Frank’s.

  “Praetors!” The old woman beside Frank snapped, shaking her head. “That is clearly not necessary. He has letters of credentials!”

  The usually stoic Praetor Anthony looked embarrassed, which Jason had never seen before. He noticed Frank trying not to smile, and felt a grin of his own beginning to form. “Mrs. Zhang, I assure you that—”

  She interrupted him with a few Chinese shouts, which if Frank’s face was any indicator, were not very flattering to the praetors or the legion.

  “This is what the legion has become?” Grandma Zhang was surprisingly fierce and judgmental for someone of her stature. “Not even checking letters before bringing the legion? Next, you'll tell me you've renamed the Twelfth Legion to the First Legion.”

  Frank tried to placate his grandmother's condescension, to no avail. “Grandma, it’s fine if I go in the Fifth, really. These letters probably won’t get me any higher, to be honest.”

  “And who told you that, Fai?!”

  “You did.” Frank responded soothingly, sounding like he did this a lot.

  Eventually, she calmed down and turned away from the praetors with a huff. Both breathed a sigh of relief, before nodding at Frank. “Frank Zhang, you stand as a probatio of the Fifth. Serve Rome well. Senatus Populusque Romanus! ”

  The legion echoed the cheer, even though some seemed like they were trying not to laugh. Another loser for the fifth, they would think. Of course, who would think that this pudgy Asian boy would become one of the greatest heroes known to mankind?

  And more importantly to Jason, he would also become one of his best friends.

  ‘Seven half-bloods answer the call once again.

  They have already decided to make a difference in this life, to change things for the better this time around.

  They’ve adapted quickly to their situation, to do what they can despite not knowing why they have been given a second chance. They are willing and ready to save the world, something they failed to do before.

  They never asked to be heroes. Many of them did not want to be heroes. Yet despite their complaints about solving their parent’s problems, they still volunteer themselves for the endeavor. They have their flaws, and they are not perfect. But they are good, selfless people before they are heroes. They are the ones who will take the burden so that others may not have to.

  They’ve accepted their situation quicker than I imagined. They have hope, hope for a better future.

  But even they know that the greatest hope, when failed, leads to the greatest despair. Perhaps that is why they are so determined. They have seen their world fall, their hope shattered. And now that hope has returned not just for them, but for the entire world.

  Sending them back was the right choice.

  I’m sure of it.’