sometimes, the
traitor becomes
the hero, and the
hero becomes
the traitor.

•❅───✧❅ SIX ❅✧───❅•

EVER SINCE ANASTASIA realized what she was actually doing alongside the Titan army, she'd been seeing crimson everywhere. It coated the sidewalks, colored the grass red, painted the walls with scarlett, and the windows were stained with blood. Whether it was her blood, demigods' blood, or monster blood, Anastasia didn't know. She just saw them. It was like the deaths of her former students were haunting her.

She trudged to the camp, unbothered — or perhaps she just didn't care enough — at the empty tents. All of the monsters and demigods were still in Manhattan, fighting a battle that would soon destroy the world. Anastasia still couldn't fathom how she managed to succumb to pretty lies and soft spoken words rather than the cold truth: she was playing the part of a destroyer, not a savior nor a healer.

Her repressed feelings arose once again inside of her. This time, Anastasia dropped to her knees, letting herself feel. A lone tear slipped down her cheek and onto her hand. She watched the tear trickle down her palm, dragging the dirt and blood along with it, creating an imperfect path as it dripped down to the soil. Where it disappeared. Maybe it was that very act that spurred the emotions in Anastasia to flare. She began to sob, loud heaves shaking her body. Wails, loud enough to be considered a siren's call, reverberated through the damp soil. Her throat burned with each cry, begging for reprieve, but Anastasia refused.

What had she done?

Anastasia opened her eyes, tears making her lashes stick together, and through watery eyes, she saw the stars. The cruel stars that mocked her pain. They twinkled, laughing amongst themselves at the sight of Anastasia Nishant on her knees. They spun the threads of fate, aligned themselves in a way that is irreversible. They cursed her, then taunted her when she couldn't bear the curse.

Was it Anastasia's destiny to be damned?

No. She couldn't even blame it on destiny. Anastasia had done this to herself. She had taken her own arrow and stabbed it through her chest. She had twisted the arrow until crimson pooled at the base. She had stared at Kronos, bleeding from the mouth and the heart, like he was the savior from the heavens; like the stars had parted just for him; like the universe had come down dressed as her old friend and vowed to change the world. She had abandoned everything because of Kronos and his false truths, like her mother abandoned her.

Morpheus was right. Anastasia was more like her mother, and she was foolish to believe otherwise.

Once the wave of tears reduced to single streaks, Anastasia stood on shaky feet. The next few moments were a blur. She barely remembered taking off her armor and curling into her sack. When she laid on her back, Anastasia stared at the ceiling of the cramped tent. Light from the outside tried to bleed into her tent, but Anastasia didn't focus on that. Why would she when the dark corner called her name?

She stared at the portion of darkness until her eyes burned once again. She imagined that the darkness was staring back at her, and the thought shook her to her very core. The darkness crooned at her state, apathetic as it always was. And slowly, her eyes closed, and the darkness caught her right before she fell into the abyss of sleep.

Anastasia's eyes fluttered open. A strange feeling coursed through her veins, but it wasn't her dream-like power. It felt different. Foreign. Like she was trapped inside her own mind.

Or maybe it was someone else's.

The thought made her tense. She didn't enjoy the notion that she was stuck in someone's mind and she didn't venture there herself.

Rolling her shoulders back, Anastasia looked around. All she noticed were tall trees and the changing colors of red, orange, and yellow littered around her. There were a few markings on the trees — a red cross, a green diamond, and a yellow arrow pointing deeper into the woods. She crouched down to the ground, trying to find scuffle marks that might've disrupted the piles of leaves.

Anastasia found two pairs of footprints. She frowned as she stood, following the footprints. Something about this place was familiar. She just didn't know if it was the good type of familiar or the bad type. (Anastasia hoped it wasn't the bad type, but when was she ever right?)

Light filtered through the small crevices of the leaves still on the branches. They danced upon the fallen leaves. There was a slight breeze in the air, ruffling the piles. The branches swayed to the archaic song. Everytime Anastasia took a step, the dried leaves crunched and crackled underneath her.

Then she saw them. That's when she knew that this was a bad type of familiar.

In front of her was a woman that Anastasia knew all too well. She was beautiful, even if her hair was a mess and her clothes were dirty and scuffed. She wore a bindi — a red dot — in the middle of her forehead. Her smile was soft, aimed at the little girl in front of her. But her eyes were sad, like she knew something the little girl didn't. Anastasia hated the fact that they shared the same sad brown eyes.

"It's alright, Anastasia," the woman cooed, brushing a strand of hair out of little Anastasia's face. "I just have to go for a few moments, okay?"

Little Anastasia's hand came up to hold her mother's hand. She stared up at her mother like she hung the stars and the sun. "Why can't I come with you?"

Her mother inhaled sharply. "I'm sorry, Anastasia. But it'll be alright." She pressed a lingering kiss on little Anastasia's head. When she pulled away, her eyes were brimmed with tears. She brushed her daughter's hair back.

"I'll be back soon," her mother promised. "Count your dreams for me while you wait."

Anastasia exhaled at her mother's words. There it was. Little Anastasia was getting abandoned, and she didn't know that. She would one day. Anastasia watched her younger self nod and sit down underneath the nearest tree.

Her mother smiled one last time, before she walked away from her only daughter. Anastasia followed her mother, sparing the little girl one last glance. She followed her mother, catching up to the woman who betrayed her. Anastasia walked beside her mother, looking at her face and trying to gauge her reaction to leaving her daughter behind.

Anastasia walked beside her mother until they reached a clearing. It was there that Anastasia finally saw a tear escape her mother's eye.

"I'm sorry, sweet Anastasia." her mother whispered, but she didn't go back for the little girl.

"Hey!" Both Nishants turned around at the sound of the man. He emerged from the clearing, a green-blue hiking backpack on his shoulders. His brown eyes shined like honey when he came up to her mother. His tan skin shimmered slightly in the golden hour, and Anastasia narrowed her eyes at the foreign man.

"Uh, hi?" Her mother wiped the tear from her cheek. "Can I help you?"

"Yeah, actually," The man scratched his neck, looking sheepish. He pulled out a folded map and showed it to her mother. "Can you help me find the rest stop?"

Anastasia watched her mother's face brighten. "Yeah, of course. I'm heading there as well."

"I'm Raj." He held out a hand for her mother to shake.

She shook it with a bright smile.

Anastasia gasped, sitting upright in her sack.

Count your dreams while you wait for me.

Well, that was one.

     ANASTASIA NISHANT DREAMED. For the first time in her miserable, pathetic, gods-awful, horrible, etc., life, she dreamed. And it wasn't about the impending doom she may have taken a part of or about Nico and his generational family trauma or even about Rachel Dare's weird Ancient Greek writing that mentioned Percy. No, this dream was strictly meant for her and her alone.

Still, watching her mother move on quickly from abandoning her daughter, it struck a chord within Anastasia. She didn't know what to expect; perhaps she was expecting, on some level, to be disappointed. But her disappointment barely scratched the surface of what she was feeling. No, it felt deeper than that.

Anastasia shook her head. Now was not the time to delve into her issues. Especially after that vivid dream. She shrugged off the blanket, rising to leave the tent and hopefully confront the monster that was Kronos. She rolled back her shoulders and inhaled deeply.

Anastasia was not afraid.

She was not afraid of the Titan Lord.

She stepped outside to confront her past, present, and hopefully, future.

At first glance, Anastasia didn't know where she was. The camp was supposed to be occupying Medusa's lair, or otherwise known as Aunty Em's Gnome Emporium. This was an entirely new location. Anastasia tilted her head as she stared at the building; it took her a few minutes to finally recognize the complex.

The Titan army had infiltrated Manhattan while Anastasia was at their camp. They had set up camp all around the United Nations complex. The flagpoles were hung with horrible trophies — helmets and armor pieces from defeated campers. Anastasia recognized a pink helmet on one of the bloodstained poles, and she closed her eyes in disgust. How was she so blind to the atrocities the Titan army was committing? She exhaled deeply, opening her eyes once again. All along First Avenue, giants sharpened their axes. Telkhines repaired armor at makeshift forges, hissing amongst themself.

Kronos, on the other hand, paced at the top of the plaza, swinging his scythe so his dracaenae bodyguards stayed way back. Ethan Nakamura and Prometheus stood nearby, though not close enough to be skewered. (Anastasia wished Ethan would stumble forward and impale himself on the scythe.) The former fidgeted with his shield straps, but Prometheus looked calm and collected in his tuxedo.

Anastasia went to take a step forward to the group, but a shadow darted in between her legs, stopping her. She clenched her jaw. This was not the time to talk to her father. The memory — or rather, the dream — of her mother leaving her behind and meeting a man just after betraying her was still fresh in her mind. Anastasia didn't know how well her father was going to take that news. Then again, he was a god; he must've watched out for her.

"Where do you think you're going, little dream?" His silky voice floated gently in the early morning breeze. Anastasia tensed at the sound. She turned around to see him standing behind her, his blue eyes twinkling like he knew something she didn't.

"Morpheus," Anastasia smiled tensely. "I didn't see you there."

He raised a brow. "That was the whole point." He took a step closer, his blue eyes focused on Anastasia, like she was the only thing that mattered in a world in flames. It made her feel guilty at how she treated him in the past year. "Is everything alright, my dream?"

Anastasia hesitated. "Ye-yeah. Why wouldn't it be?"

"Call it intuition, daughter," Morpheus smiled softly, the tips of his mustache twitching. "Now, tell me what ails you, and I will try my best to help you conquer it."

The sound of metal screeching interrupted Anastasia's next words. She looked over her shoulder at Kronos and his posse. The half of a flagpole slid due to Kronos's scythe; the national colors of Brazil toppled into the army, squashing a dracaenae.

"We will destroy them!" Kronos roared, and Anastasia flinched at his tone.

She turned back to Morpheus. "You asked if everything was okay?" Her father nodded. "Well, I'm not. I think...I think I made a mistake."

"You think?" Morpheus questioned, furrowing his dark brows. At any other time, Anastasia would've lied and saved herself from his knowing eyes. She would've excused her thoughts as unimportant to the mission they were set about to do. In any other instance, Anastasia would've walked away. Now, after seeing the deaths of her students, after seeing Annabeth's haunted look, after seeing Andromeda take that poisoned knife for Percy, Anastasia wanted to brave the storm. Like she had braved the dream.

"Kronos is wrong." The temperature dropped at her statement. Anastasia could see tendrils of white smoke curling towards the sky where it disappeared. The hair on the back of her neck rose. Goosebumps pricked her bare arms. For a summer month, it felt like it was the middle of winter.

Morpheus's blue eyes darkened. "The Lord is wrong?"

Anastasia cleared her throat, scolding herself mentally for the slight tremble in her fingers. "Yes. He's wrong. He's not saving o-or helping the world." She glanced back at Kronos who was in the middle of berating Ethan. He looked too stiff, and when Anastasia realized why, her lips pressed together in a thin line. She looked back at Morpheus, who waited patiently for her answer. "Kronos wants to destroy the world. He doesn't care who he hurts. He just wants his golden throne towering over those that cannot fight back."

"And what inspired this decision, Anastasia?"

Morpheus had never called her by her name. She was always 'little dream' or 'little one.' It was unnerving to hear her name tumble out of her father's lips like it was dead. Wasted on his silvertongue. Forgotten amid the carcasses that littered Manhattan's streets. It felt like she was useless now that she didn't believe in the same ideologies that brainwashed her.

She was done looking through rose-tinted glasses. Especially not when they were cracked.

Anastasia raised her chin in defiance. If she had to, she would fight against her father. "I finally saw the world in flames because of us. The world doesn't need to be an exact replica of the dream world."

It was hard to forget the dream world. If she wanted to, Anastasia could slip away from the war and open the delicate fabric separating reality and dreams. She could hide away, dancing in the scarlet and blue dust that lingered for just a moment longer. Anastasia could fall asleep to the sound of the waterfalls, and she could arise with the coos of the golden-winged birds. The morning sun would beckon her to lay upon the colorful blanket of the sky. If she chose to, Anastasia could hide away in the dream realm until every dream star winked out of the sky and it had faded to oblivion.

But Anastasia wanted to stay. She wanted to live — preferably with Annabeth, although she wasn't too keen on that happening soon. She wanted to make it to her twenties and be burdened with college work and the stress of exams rather than being the puppet of the gods. She wanted to be married — again with Annabeth — and to have a kid to raise. She wanted to dance underneath the moonlit haze and fall in love every night over and over again. She wanted to grow old and by the time the sun rises, she would be in the Underworld with her friends and family.

"All the world needs is to be remembered," Anastasia continued, her eyes lined with tears. "I need to do this. Let me go." She hesitated before adding, with a shaky breath, "Let me go, dad."

Morpheus stared at her before a single tear, reflecting the blue in his eyes, dropped onto his cheek. "My sweet daughter, I know. When you agreed to take the Titan side, I admit I was disappointed. I thought you had lost your way." He cupped Anastasia's cheek, and she leaned into it. "Now I realize, you took this path to find out who you are."

From somewhere behind the United Nations compound, an angry roar shook the city — the sound of a drakon waking. The monster and demigod troops began to stir at Prometheus's cry.

Anastasia's father took his hand away, and Anastasia found herself missing the familiar coldness of it.

Morpheus smiled somberly. "Go, my dream."

With one last look, Anastasia turned and ran toward Kronos. His golden eyes were fixated on her as she skidded to a stop right in front of him.

"The troops are rallying," Kronos narrowed his eyes at Anastasia. "Why aren't you with them, Right Hand?"

Anastasia twisted her dark ring, letting herself feel the bow in her hand. "There's been a change of plans. I've decided that you're an asshole, and I'm done playing your wicked games."

"Get back in line, Nishant." The ground shook beneath them, but Anastasia was not deterred. In fact, it made her angrier.

She notched an arrow onto her bow. "Yeah, I got five words for you too: Shut. The. Fuck. Up. Forever."

Anastasia shot a volley of arrows at him. Kronos stumbled back as the Stygian arrows grazed by him; he wasn't going to be severely affected, but they would do their damage. "Yeah see, you, Kronos, are a Titan — you can withstand these arrows; but that mortal host of yours?" Anastasia sucked her teeth, tsking while shaking her head. "0-out-of-10, would not recommend."

Kronos swatted an arrow away, hissing when the arrow lodged itself in his armor. He glared at her in a way that was supposed to be intimidating. "You think you are making the right choice?" He let out a grating laugh. "I made you my Right Hand because you remind me of me. You think you are good? No. We have the same thoughts, the same dreams. If I am written as the evil villain in this narrative, then you are the same." He gestured to the demigods on the other side. "They will never understand you. Stay with me, and perhaps I can forgive this foolish behavior."

Anastasia clenched her jaw, glancing at the demigods ready to fight the monsters advancing down Fifth Avenue. She looked back at Kronos, halting her movements. She stuffed the arrow back into her quiver wordlessly, and her bow morphed back into a ring.

Then she replied: "I think the fuck not."

Anastasia reached into the dark corners of her mind, calling upon her loyal dark-winged spirits. They screeched in response. Soon, every shadow crawled over to where she stood, hovering between the Titan Lord and the demigod. They shifted into the winged creatures she knew so well, lowering their heads as a form of respect — not to Kronos, but to Anastasia. She swung onto a nearby Oneiroi, and they had just begun to ascend when Kronos ran towards them, his scythe glinting blood red.

Anastasia grabbed the wispy black tendrils and yanked upwards. The bat-like creature rose, barely missing the scythe. Anastasia pulled out her bow and shot a few arrows at Kronos.

As she made to leave, she looked down at the glowing form of an angered Titan. Anastasia grinned. "Oh, and you should get yourself a new Right Hand! I heard your last one wanted you dead!"

Anastasia leaned forward, urging her beast to the demigods fighting against a losing battle. She ignored Kronos's roar piercing through the morning. Anastasia didn't look back.

She flew directly to where the drakon was, battling a hellhound. At first, Anastasia wondered why a hellhound was fighting a drakon, but when she flew in further, she recognized the features. Mrs. O'Leary, the hellhound that saved her life last year.

The deadly black shadow with teeth and claws raked harmlessly off the drakon's scales. Compared to the drakon, Mrs. O'Leary looked like a child's doll. The normally sweet hellhound bit the monster's throat but couldn't make a dent. Her weight, however, was enough to knock the drakon off the side of the building. It flailed awkwardly and crashed to the sidewalk — hellhound and serpent twisting and thrashing. The beast tried to bite Mrs. O'Leary, but fortunately, she was too close to the monster's mouth. Green and black poison spewed everywhere, melting centaurs into dust along with quite a few monsters. Mrs. O'Leary weaved around the drakon's head, scratching and biting.

Percy, she noticed first, plunged his sword deep into the monster's left eye. The drakon hissed and reared back to strike, but he rolled aside.

It bit a swimming-pool-size chunk out of the pavement. It turned towards Percy with its good eye. Mrs. O'Leary did her best to cause a distraction. She leaped onto the serpent's head and scratched and growled like a really angry black wig. Andromeda, Anastasia noted, was helping the hellhound with bursts of black flames and skeletons, but she was getting tired.

The rest of the battle wasn't going well. The centaurs had panicked under the onslaught of giants and demons. An occasional orange camp T-shirt appeared in the sea of fighting, but it quickly disappeared. Arrows screamed. Fire exploded in waves across both armies, but the action was moving across the street to the entrance of the Empire State Building.

The drakon's roar grabbed Anastasia's attention once again. When she turned her head to see what was causing the commotion, she wasn't expecting for her heart to fall to her stomach. Annabeth was on the drakon's back, driving her bronze knife between a chink in the serpent's scale. It coiled around, knocking Annabeth off its back; Anastasia didn't think — she didn't have time to — as she veered down to catch Annabeth before she hit the ground.

Anastasia flung herself from her beast, tackling Annabeth in midair and twisting so that she landed on her back instead. The pain was excruciating, crawling up her spine, but all that mattered to Anastasia was that Annabeth was unharmed. Her creature of night screeched, but it stayed back, awaiting its next orders.

Anastasia looked beyond the mop of Annabeth's unruly hair — from not having the proper accommodations these past few days — and her eyes widened. She held Annabeth in her arms, gently but firm enough, and rolled them out of the way just as the serpent beast crushed a lamppost right where they'd been.

"Are you okay?" Anastasia muttered, wincing when Annabeth moved off of her. "That fall was pre — OH! Fuck!"

Anastasia pulled her hands away from where they'd been resting on Annabeth's waist. Her face — but more specifically, her nose — bloomed with pain, spreading to her forehead. Her eyes felt teary. Her hands clutched her nose, her blood staining her hands red. Her nose felt tender to the touch, as if the slightest pressure would cause another round of bleeding.

"Fuck you," Annabeth spat, rolling off of Anastasia to join her friends.

"Yeah," Anastasia groaned, standing up despite the throbbing sensation in her head telling her to sit down. "I'll just take that as a thank you for saving your life."

She grabbed her bow that had fallen a few feet away. Notching an arrow, Anastasia glanced at the Oneiroi, still beating their wings to hover in the air. She looked at the losing battle near the Empire State Building, and with a nod of her head, her beasts cried before diving into that battle.

"Duck!" Anastasia heard a demigod yell. Her heart clenched. The Oneiroi weren't there to hurt the demigods, but rather the monsters. The dark-winged spirits grabbed the smaller monsters and flew them to the height of the building before dropping them. They scratched with their talons on the giants, who tried to swat them aside like they were flies; some of them avoided those hands, others were not as lucky.

Anastasia stumbled over to where Percy was standing with Andromeda and Annabeth — the latter barely looked at her. The son of the sea god glanced at her, raising his brow in question of her support.

"Why are you here?" Andromeda held her flaming hands up, glaring at Anastasia.

Anastasia grinned sarcastically, wiping the blood from her nose with the back of her bow hand. "Isn't it obvious?" She looked at Percy, her grin widening. "II'm here for you."

Percy lowered his sword. His ocean eyes widened. "You know who the traitor is?"

"Not only that," Anastasia sniffed, wincing when her nose throbbed in pain as a response, "but...well, I believe you. About Kronos. You were right."

The drakon roared once again, pulling their attention to the Empire State Building. The enemy was backing the demigods to the entrance. Even with her creatures, they were still outnumbered. It was all for nothing.

"Who —" A rumbling in the south interrupted Percy. Anastasia furrowed her brows, tilting her head to the side to identify it. Her eyes widened when she recognized it: chariot wheels.

A girl's voice yelled, "Ares!" And a dozen war chariots charged into battle. Each flew a red banner with the symbol of the wild boar's head. Each was pulled by a team of skeletal horses with manes of fire. A total of thirty fresh warriors, armor gleaming and eyes full of hate, lowered their lances as one — making a bristling wall of death. But Anastasia couldn't care less about that. Instead, she searched the ranks to find the girl who had taken her in when she had nothing.

"The children of Ares!" Annabeth said in amazement. "How did Rachel know?"

Leading the charge was a girl in familiar red armor, her face covered by a boar's-head helm. She held aloft a spear that crackled with electricity. Anastasia narrowed her eyes at the leader. Something about them was different to the way Clarisse held herself; she was strong, unfaltering in front of her enemies, and she carried herself with dignity and pride, confidence exuding from her firm posture. She wasn't like this: short and trembling slightly. Unless...

While half of the chariots charged the monster army, the unknown leader led the other six straight for the drakon.

The serpent reared back and managed to throw off Mrs. O'Leary. She hit the side of the building with a yelp. Percy and Andromeda ran to help her, but the monster had already zeroed in on the new threat. Even with only one eye, its glare was enough to paralyze two chariot drivers. They veered into a line of cars. The other four chariots kept charging. The drakon bared its fangs to strike and got a mouthful of Celestial bronze havelins.

The drakon screamed.

"Ares, to me!" The leader yelled. Their voice sounded shriller than usual, and Anastasia's heart stopped its beating for a momentary second. That wasn't Clarisse. She was never afraid of anything — no matter what she faced.

"That's not Clarisse." But at that moment, no one was standing beside Anastasia when she muttered those words. Annabeth had ventured closer to Percy and Andromeda. No one had heard her.

The chariots circled the drakon. Lances broke against the monster's skin. Skeletal horses breathed fire and whinnied. Two more chariots overturned, but the warriors simply leaped to their feet, drew their swords, and attacked. They hacked at chinks in the creature's scales. They dodged poison spray like they'd been training for this all of their lives.

The leader stabbed their spear at the drakon's face, trying to put out its other eye. Things, however, were going downhill quickly. The drakon snapped up one Ares camper in a gulp. It knocked aside another and sprayed poison on a third, who retreated in a panic, his armor melting.

"We have to help," Annabeth yelled. Anastasia sprung into action at her words, like a sleeper agent who had just been told their code words.

Anastasia sprinted to the front, barely missing the poison aimed at her. She shot an arrow in between the scales, ignoring the roar it let out. She tried to reach the leader, but the children of Ares blocked her view of them.

In the corner of her eye, Anastasia noticed Annabeth and Percy jumping onto the monster's back and running toward its head, trying to draw its attention away from the leader. Andromeda was using her fire to keep the drakon enclosed within the circle she created around them. The Ares cabinmates threw javelins, most of which broke, but some lodged in the monster's teeth. It snapped its jaws together until its mouth was a mess of green blood, yellow foamy poison, and splintered weapons.

"You can do it!" Percy screamed at the leader. "A child of Ares is destined to kill it."

"Ares!" they shouted, in that strangely shrill voice. They leveled her spear and charged the drakon.

"That's not Clarisse!" Anastasia yelled, meeting Percy's eyes.

He muttered something that was washed out by the sounds of the battle. "Wait!"

The monster looked down at them, almost in contempt, and spit poison directly in their face.

The leader screamed and fell. Anastasia pushed several campers out of the way, reaching the leader. Annabeth jumped off the monster's back and ran over to help. The other Ares campers tried to defend who they believed as their fallen counselor. Percy managed to turn the drakon's attention on himself.

Anastasia ignored their fight as she kneeled down. The leader was lying on the ground where they'd fallen. Their armor smoked with poison, white tendrils curling into the air. At Anastasia's movement, she could feel the Oneiroi fading back into the shadows. Tiredness creeped into her bones, and despite the gravel poking into her armor, Anastasia didn't move. Instead, she simply stared at the camper, anger and despair swirling in her chest.

Was this how Annabeth felt that day in the Labyrinth?

At the edge of her vision, Anastasia saw a flying chariot land of Fifth Avenue. Then someone, wearing camp clothes, ran toward them. A girl's voice, something that Anastasia knew all too well, shaken with grief, cried, "No! Curse you, why?"

Anastasia dared to look up, and her heart stuttered at the sight of an old friend: Clarisse La Rue. She kneeled down next to them, her face blotchy with tears. She didn't glance up at Anastasia, which hurt more than her broken nose.

"Why?" Clarisse demanded, holding the fallen camper in her arms. Annabeth and the Ares campers were trying to unfasten the poison-corroded helmet, but they were struggling to remove it without hurting them even more.

Chris Rodriguez ran over from the flying chariot. Anastasia guessed he and Clarisse must've ridden it here from camp, chasing the Ares campers, who'd mistakenly been following the other camper, thinking they were Clarisse.

He rested a hand on Clarisse's shoulder. He glanced at the fight between Percy, Andromeda, and the drakon. "Look out!"

The drakon whirled toward the sound of Chris's voice. It bared its fangs at the demigods gathered around the body. Anastasia watched Clarisse look up at the drakon, her face filled with absolute hate. At that moment, Anastasia thought Clarisse looked exactly like her father.

"You want death?" Clarisse screamed at the drakon, who roared in response. "Well, come on!"

She grabbed her spear from the fallen girl. With no armor or shield, she charged the drakon. The fire circle around them faded into the pavement as Andromeda stumbled over to them, her hand clasping Anastasia's shoulder, as if to answer yes to her previous question. They watched in silent awe as Clarisse leaped aside as the monster struck, pulverizing the ground in front of her. Then she jumped onto the creature's head. As it reared up, she drove her electric spear into its good eye with so much force it shattered the shaft, releasing all of the magic weapon's power.

Electricity arced across the creature's head, causing its whole body to shudder. Clarisse jumped free, rolling safely to the sidewalk as smoke boiled from the drakon's mouth. The drakon's flesh dissolved, and it collapsed into a hollow scaly tunnel of armor.

Clarisse didn't care that she had single-handedly killed the monster. She ran back to the wounded camper who'd stolen her armor.

Finally, Annabeth managed to remove the helmet. She tugged at the helmet, letting all of them see who sacrificed themselves so that Clarisse could come and conquer the drakon. They gathered around the body, while the battle still raged along Fifth Avenue.

The girl's features, once beautiful, were badly burned from poison. No amount of nectar or ambrosia would save her. The girl's blue eyes reminded Anastasia faintly of her father's eyes, and the feeling of dread came crawling back to her. In front of her was the traitor that only she knew about, but all Anastasia could see was someone who made a mistake and was repenting it in the form of death.

Here lied Silena Beauregard, a traitor and a hero.

"What were you thinking?" Clarisse cradled Silena's head in her lap. Anastasia inhaled sharply at the sight, her heart wrenching at the sight. (She couldn't help but wonder: if she had taken the fall for Clarisse, would she still be held by her once good friend?)

Silena tried to swallow, but her lips were dry and cracked. "Wouldn't...listen. Cabin would...only follow you."

"So you stole my armor," Clarisse said in disbelief. "You waited until Chris and I went on patrol; you stole my armor and pretended to be me." She glared at her siblings. "And none of you noticed?"

The Ares campers developed a sudden interest in their combat boots.

"Don't blame them." Silena coughed, blood coating her lips. "They wanted to...to believe I was you."

Anastasia's stomach clenched. They were a real-life Patroclus and Achilles.

"You stupid Aphrodite girl," Clariss sobbed. "You charged a drakon? Why?"

"All my fault," Silena said, a tear streaking the side of her face. "The drakon, Charlie's death...camp endangered."

Anastasia opened her mouth to speak, but no noise came out. Instead, she swallowed the words that died on her tongue and decided to let Silena have her moment with Clarisse.

"Stop it!" Clarisse shook her head. "That's not true."

But it was.

Silena opened her hand. In her palm was a silver bracelet with a scythe charm, the mark of Kronos.

Anastasia glanced up to make eye contact with Percy. He looked crushed, and he was still a kid. He looked down at Silena, who was wheezing her final breaths. "You were the spy."

Silena tried to not. "Before...before I liked Charlie, Luke was nice to me. He was so...charming. Handsome. Later, I wanted to stop helping him, but he threatened to tell." She twisted her head the best she could to look at Anastasia. She smiled sadly at her. "You know...He promised I was saving lives. Fewer people would get hurt. He would heal the world with my help. He told me he wouldn't hurt...Charlie. He lied to me."

The battle still raged behind them. Clarisse scowled at her cabinmates. "Go, help the centaurs. Protect the doors. Go!" They scrambled off to join the fight.

Silena took a heavy, painful breath. "Forgive me." Anastasia knew what came next.

She reached a hand out to Silena, but Clarisse pulled her closer. Away from her. Clarisse glared at her, eyes burning with unbridled anger. "You don't get to touch her. It's your fault. All of it."

Anastasia recoiled her hand, a lump forming in her throat. Her breathing was unsteady. Her eyes stung with unshed tears. The friendship that Anastasia could always count on, the bond that almost felt too deep for a friendship, had always hovered between the lines of friendship and family, was broken. Just like that.

"You destroy everything you touch." Clarisse's harsh words twisted the knife in her chest.

"Clarisse, now is not the time —"

"You betrayed us." Clarisse interrupted Andromeda. A tear escaped her eye. "You betrayed me. I thought we were friends. No. More than that. Sisters. But you were always too selfish." She gestured to the battle, to the deaths around them. "Is this what you wanted? It is, isn't it?"

She exhaled shakily.

"I wish it had been you that died instead."

And just like that, in only a few words, the bond between them shattered.

"I like you. We're gonna be friends." A young Clarisse smacked a young Anastasia's shoulder and smiled widely.

Anastasia grinned back. "We're gonna be best friends."

"Hey, longshot! There's something I have to tell you." A now teenager Clarisse cracked her knuckles as she stared at her best friend. "But if you tell anyone, I'll kill you myself."

Anastasia rolled her eyes, unable to hide the grin tugging at her lips. "If this is about you and Lettie, please. I already know."

"How?"

"Simple." Anastasia shrugged. "I'm your best friend."

"Let's fucking do this, spearhead," Anastasia grinned, holding out her fist for Clarisse, who obliged.

"We're gonna fucking destroy them, longshot," Clarss growled, gripping her spear tightly.

"Alright, longshot. Here's the deal. You walk in there and find the cowardly inventor, and when you come back, the Ares cabin will throw you a fan-fucking-tastic party and give you an honorary title as 'adopted child of Ares's children.'"

Anastasia grinned. "Oh Clarisse, ya big softie."

"Enough...please," Silena whispered.

"You're not dying." Clarisse insisted, looking back down at the body in her arms.

Anastasia felt something warm fall down both sides of her cheeks, dripping down to the pavement. She inhaled, wiping the tears away with the back of her hand. She looked at Silena and ignored Clarisse's growl.

Her fingertips glowed a faint blue and her powers hummed. Anastasia reached into Silena's mind and touched upon the glowing form of Charlie Beckendorf. Silena gasped, tears lining her eyes.

"Charlie..." Silena's blue eyes were a million miles away. "See Charlie......"

She didn't speak again.

Anastasia's hand dropped down to her lap.

Clarisse held her and wept. Chris put a hand on her shoulder.

Finally Annabeth closed Silena's eyes.

"We have to fight." Annabeth's voice was brittle. Anastasia shuddered at the sound. "She gave her life to help us. We have to honor her."

Clarisse sniffled and wiped her nose. "She was a hero, understand? A hero."

Percy nodded. "Come on, Clarisse."

She picked up a sword from one of her fallen siblings. "Kronos is going to pay."

All of them charged the monsters in the Fifth Avenue. All except one.

Anastasia was still kneeling in front of Silena Beauregard, sobbing silently.

Wasn't it funny?

A traitor honoring a traitor, but one perceived a hero and the other a villain.

     WHEN ANASTASIA MOVED again, she headed straight to the Empire State Building. She ignored the battle that Clarisse was fighting in. She ignored the gasps and murmurs of the demigods when she walked inside. She ignored all of them as she found solace in the dark corner of the lobby.

     Anastasia heard Clarisse's yells, and every curse, every insult Clarisse spat, Anastasia flinched. She imagined that she was on the receiving end of Clarisse's wrath. When she glanced at the battle, she didn't see her former best friend. No, she saw a warrior with an aura of red fire flickering around her.

     "I am Clarisse, Drakon-Slayer!" she yelled, her voice a mixture of grief and anger. "I will kill you all! Where is Kronos? Bring him out! Is he a coward?"

     Anastasia turned away from her, wiping the blood from her nose. After the enemy began to fall back, Percy and the others tended to the wounded, bringing them inside the lobby. Anastasia knew that this wasn't where she belonged. So she stood in the dark corner, watching with pained eyes at how they thanked Percy, Andromeda, Annabeth, the Ares camper, everyone but her.

     Then again, who was she to complain? She betrayed them. She hurt them.

     After a while, Will Solace, a young boy from the Apollo cabin, came up to her, holding a small piece of ambrosia. He handed it to her without saying a word, and Anastasia took it. She nearly wept once again when she remembered that she watched his siblings get hurt and killed. And she hurt some of them.

     "Will..." Anastasia croaked, her voice raspy. "I'm so so sorry."

     His back was facing her. But she watched his hands ball into fists. "I don't care." He walked away from her.

Anastasia shoved the piece of ambrosia in her mouth.

It tasted bitter.

     She saw Chris, Annabeth, Andromeda, Percy, and Thalia huddle together. Although she had a feeling that she wasn't wanted, Anastasia walked over. Chris saw her first and his hands twitched, like he wanted to give her a hug. He knew, she realized, what it was like to see the destruction the other side was causing. It was only a shame that she found out too late. (Maybe, if she figured it out sooner, she wouldn't be so isolated from everyone. From Annabeth.) Besides, a hug between them probably wouldn't be taken so well by the others.

     Chris opened the circle a little so Anastasia could stand next to him. "I'll watch her. She'll get tired eventually. I'll make sure she comes inside."

     Percy nodded at Anastasia, the only one besides Chris to acknowledge her presence. He turned to Chris and asked, "What about the camp? Is anybody left there?"

     Chris shook his head. "Only Argus and the nature spirits. Peleus the dragon is still guarding the tree."

     "They won't last long." Percy said. "But I'm glad you came."

     Chris nodded sadly. "I'm sorry it took so long. I tried to reason with Clarisse, and Lettie tried to do so too before she was called to fight with the gods against Typhon. We said there's no point in defending camp if you guys die. All our friends are here. I'm sorry it took Silena..."

     "My Hunters will help you stand guard," Thalia interrupted, not wanting to bring up the girl again. "Annabeth, Andy, Percy, you guys should go to Olympus. I have a feeling they'll need you up there to set up the final defense."

     "Yeah," Percy nodded. He looked at Anastasia, studying her, before continuing. "You should come to, Anastasia. We need you up there too."

     Anastasia raised her brows. "You want me there with you? After everything I've done?"

     Percy shrugged. "My mom told me before she gave me the vial of the sea monster's blood that you had visited her to keep me safe. She told me to keep a look out for you, like she had a feeling you were going to realize what was truly going on and join us once again."

     He smiled at her, albeit a little sadly. "I don't fully trust you, but I'm willing to work together to stop Kronos."

annie's first dream!!? *le gasp*
but...GO MRS. O'LEARY <33
also, silena's death is so sad broskis like what?? and writing clarisse and annie's interaction broke me😖😖
also, thanks for the 4k!!