𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 [Jason Grace]

1

𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝, he was having a rotten year.

It all started with Jason Grace, as it usually did with Dante. Ever since he stepped foot in Camp Jupiter, Jason Grace had been ruining everything for him.

But when he told Jason to "Go die in a ditch somewhere." one night after dinner, this wasn't exactly what he meant.

Naturally, that had to be the night Jason disappeared from Camp Jupiter and Dante's hostility toward the Praetor made him the prime suspect of foul play.

But that was last October. The new year came and went, the months passed and still most of the campers blamed Dante for Jason's disappearance. If he was a nobody before Jason vanished, now he was a somebody, a somebody everyone disliked.

It all changed the day Percy Jackson arrived.

Dante was on Watchtower duty when he first saw him. Just a big blob and a small blob running across the valley toward the little Tiber.

From his position, Dante could see pretty much the whole valley in every direction. The Caldecott tunnel entrance to one side and Mount Diablo and New Rome to the other. Sometimes, even now, after years in the legion, the sheer massiveness of the valley and the city took his breath away.

The blobs grew closer and closer until Dante cursed and grabbed a pair of binoculars to follow the blobs. They were people, as was obvious. One was Frank Zhang, a legionnaire on probatio who was supposed to be on sentry duty along with his partner Hazel Levesque, who was conveniently missing.

The others, however, Dante did not recognize. One was a boy, maybe a bit older than Dante himself with windswept hair, furrowed eyebrows, a clenched jaw and an expression that could cut through glass.

Monster. Was Dante's first thought.

The boy just looked too... perfect. Dante had his fill with monsters like Empousai, he knew how they disguised themselves to appear appealing, how they manipulated and charmspoke their way into tearing into demigod flesh.

This guy gave him the same chill down his spine, like there was just something off about him. He radiated power, and with his commanding presence, even Frank who was taller than him seemed to cower.

On his back, Dante spotted as they stopped on the banks of the Little Tiber, was an old woman with wrinkly and saggy skin. Her hair was matted and white, her clothes dirty and shabby. She was too unassuming, someone people wouldn't look at twice if they saw her begging on the streets.

A goddess, then.

Dante had realized early on, the myths he read were full of idiotic heroes. None of them possessed half the braincells required to be a fully functioning human being. How they survived long enough to become teenagers or even adults was beyond him.

You'd think they would know not to think themselves better than gods and boast about it after hearing about all the other people before them who did it and how it ended for them. You'd think they would know not to treat unassuming mortals harshly for fear of them being a disguised god. You'd think they would remain humble and alert, but noooo.

"Idiots," he whispered. "They're all idiots. I'm going to be better than them."

"I know you will."

Dante saw Hazel rushing up to the trio. Her helmet was askew on her head and her dark curls squished under the metal. She reminded him of a baby giraffe, still finding her footing. Her cavalry sword swung awkwardly in her hand, and her anxiety was clear to anyone watching.