Chapter 1

Logan didn't want to be here.

This was the hardest part of the job. The Battle of Mount Othrys had left the camp grim. It was the first time in many years that the entire camp had been mobilised for war, and the number of casualties was staggering. He was closer to Kayla than anyone else in the camp, so he had taken the responsibility of breaking the news to her family. But before that, he had to take a drink. So here he was, trying to find solace in the bottom of a whiskey glass, amidst the clinking of glasses and murmured conversations.

Sure, this bar had a certain charm, its walls plastered with faded photographs and softly flickering neon signs casting a warm, nostalgic glow over the patrons. For most people, it was a sanctuary from the city's chaos, a place where time seemed to slow down. But for Logan, it was just another reminder of what he'd lost.

The soft hum of conversation mingled with the occasional clink of glasses, creating a soothing backdrop that allowed his mind to wander. He was just about to take another sip of his whiskey when a sudden, sharp cry cut through the night air, shattering the bar's tranquil ambiance.

Logan's instincts kicked into high gear. Of course, nobody else heard it. The mist shrouded the mortal world. He dropped a few bills on the counter, nodding to the bartender, and slipped out the back door. The alley behind the bar was narrow and dimly lit, the flickering street lamp casting long shadows on the graffiti-covered walls.

His eyes quickly adjusted to the gloom, and he spotted the source of the commotion: a young boy, no older than thirteen, cornered by a pair of snarling hellhounds. The beasts' red eyes glowed with a malevolent hunger, their fangs bared as they closed in on their prey. The boy clutched a broken broomstick, a pinecone attached at the end of it, his only defense against the monsters.

With a swift flick of his wrist, Logan drew an imperial gold sword, its shimmering blade reflecting the dim light of the alleyway. He assessed the situation quickly, noting the ferocity of the hellhounds and the limited space for maneuvering. The narrow alley offered little room to dodge, and the beasts were closing in fast.

Without hesitation, he sprang into action, his movements fluid but strained. The first hellhound lunged at him, its jaws snapping inches from his face. Logan sidestepped, but not without feeling the beast's hot breath on his neck. He swung his sword, aiming for the vulnerable spot beneath its jaw, but the hellhound was faster than he anticipated. It twisted away, and his blade grazed its shoulder, drawing a growl of rage rather than a fatal blow.

The hellhound pounced again, and this time Logan barely managed to bring his sword up in time. The force of the collision sent him sprawling to the ground, the sword slipping from his grasp and skittering across the alley. Pain shot through his side as he hit the pavement, but he forced himself to roll away from the snapping jaws. He scrambled to his feet, his eyes darting to where his sword had landed, but the second hellhound was already upon him.

Logan grabbed a nearby trash can lid, using it as a makeshift shield just as the hellhound slammed into him. The impact jarred his entire body, but he held firm, pushing back against the monstrous weight. With a grunt of effort, he shoved the lid into the hellhound's face, forcing it back just enough to give him room to maneuver. He dashed to the side, diving for his sword, but the first hellhound blocked his path, its red eyes blazing with fury.

He barely managed to roll under the beast's leap, feeling its claws rake across his back. Pain seared through him, but he couldn't afford to stop. He snatched up his sword, turning just in time to face the first hellhound as it lunged again. This time, he was ready. With a desperate swing, he aimed for its throat, and the blade connected with a sickening crunch. The hellhound let out a gurgling cry, collapsing into a heap of golden dust.

But there was no time to savor the victory. The second hellhound, maddened by the death of its companion, charged at him with renewed fury. Logan braced himself, his muscles screaming in protest. The beast's snarling jaws snapped dangerously close to his face as he parried its attack with his sword. He felt the strain in his arms as he pushed back against the hellhound's relentless assault.

With a final burst of energy, Logan dropped into a controlled roll, narrowly avoiding the hellhound's lethal bite. He came up behind it, his breathing ragged, and positioned himself for the perfect strike. With a quick thrust, he aimed for the creature's spine. The imperial gold blade sliced through flesh and bone with brutal efficiency. The hellhound let out a guttural growl, its resistance faltering. With a final twist of his wrist, Logan drove the sword deep into the monster's back, ensuring it would not rise again.

As the hellhound disintegrated into nothingness, leaving the alley eerily silent, Logan allowed himself a moment to catch his breath. His body ached, his clothes were torn, and his heart pounded in his chest, but he had won. 

He sheathed his sword, glancing at the boy who stared at him with wide-eyed astonishment and asked, "Are you okay?" 

The boy nodded, though he was clearly shaken. "Y-Yeah, I think so."

Logan studied him for a moment. The boy stood with a wiry frame, his clothes tattered and stained. Sun-kissed skin bore the marks of hardship, with faint scars telling stories of past struggles. His dark, unkempt hair fell in tousled waves around his face, framing a pair of weary eyes that held a mixture of determination and weariness beyond his years.

"You're a demigod, aren't you?"

The boy blinked, confusion clouding his features. "A what?"

Logan sighed, realising the boy had no idea what he was. "What's your name, kid?"

"Felix," the boy replied, his voice trembling. "Felix Pappas."

"Well, Felix, it looks like you've got a lot to learn. But first, we need to get you somewhere safe."

"I am not going anywhere with a stranger. For all I know, you could be a monster yourself. Or worse, from child protection services." A cat came from behind Felix and leapt into his hands and nuzzled against him. 

Logan knelt to meet Felix's eye level. "I know this is a lot to take in, but it's important you understand. The gods of ancient Rome, they're not just myths. They're real. They're alive, walking among us, influencing our world in ways we can't always see."

"Wait, hold on a sec. Are you saying that Zeus, Hades, all of them... they're real?"

"Well, Jupiter and Pluto in roman, but yes. And not only that, but they still have children, just like the demigods of ancient times. Children who inherit their divine powers and face the same dangers and challenges as those heroes of old."

"You're telling me that I might be one of these... demigods? "

"It's a possibility. Given the circumstances of our meeting and what we've encountered recently, it's worth considering. But don't worry, if that's the case, you're not alone. There's a whole community of demigods out there, and they'll help you learn to harness your powers and face the trials ahead. But you have to trust me. We have to get out of here."

Felix looked at Logan sceptically, hugging his cat closer. "Why should I trust you?"

Logan stood up and extended his hand. "Because I have no reason to lie to you. Look, I can't make you believe me, but I can show you. Come with me, and you'll see for yourself. If you're not convinced by then, you're free to go. No harm, no foul."

After a long moment of hesitation, Felix finally nodded. "Alright, I'll come with you. But if you try anything funny..."

Logan smiled. "Fair enough. Let's get moving."

As they walked away from the alley, Logan listened to Felix's side of the story. His mom had told him his dad had left when he was born, and she herself slowly turned to alcohol afterwards. She died in a drink-and-drive accident when he was seven. With no family left, he had become a wanderer, living on the streets with a stray cat for company and surviving on whatever scraps he could find. 

"Look, I don't know who my godly dad is. But it does explain all the strange occurrences I have seen in my life. I swear I saw a half -man, half-horse blackout drunk once outside a bar. But my mom just said I had an overactive imagination."

He felt a twinge of sympathy. "They are centaurs, and it's probably good that he wasn't conscious. One must be cautious of them. But you don't have to worry anymore. I'm a legacy of Mercury. A descendant of the Roman god, that is, who found his home in Camp Jupiter. I swear to my lineage that I will protect you on your journey to a safe home."

Logan chuckled to himself as they set off. He'd barely had time to miss the outside world before being pulled back into the chaos of the ancient world. It was lucky that the camp wasn't far off. The world was a dangerous place for demigods, especially new teenagers who just discovered themselves. As soon as Felix gets to camp, the better. His quest had to wait.

The streets of San Francisco gave way to the open highways, and soon they were travelling through the vast landscapes on a motorbike. The journey was only for one night, and Felix, despite his tough exterior, was clearly nervous. He held Logan close, even if he only knew him for an hour or so. Logan tried to ease his mind by sharing stories of the camp.

"Have you ever gotten used to it?" Felix asked, his voice barely a whisper.

"Used to what?" 

"The monsters. The constant danger." 

He considered the question. "You learn to live with it," he said finally. "But you never really get used to it. The key is to find something worth fighting for. For me, it's protecting the camp and people like you."

Felix nodded thoughtfully. "I never really had anyone looking out for me before."

"You do now," 

Logan remained vigilant, his eyes constantly scanning the horizon for threats. Felix and his cat were snoring peacefully as they made their way.