𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 [Jason Grace]

8

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭.

Percy fought Dante and multiple defenders at the same time. Frank, Hazel and Percy waded through the enemy, plowing down anyone who stood in their way. The First and Second Cohorts— pride of Camp Jupiter, a well-oiled, highly disciplined war machine— fell apart under the assault and the sheer novelty of being on the losing side.

Part of their problem was Percy. He fought like a demon, whirling through the defenders' ranks in a completely unorthodox style, rolling under their feet, slashing with his sword instead of stabbing like a Roman would, whacking campers with the flat of his blade, and generally causing mass panic.

He held off against Dante while simultaneously fighting two others. Whatever happened, he always returned to Dante, keeping him from going after Hazel and Frank.

Those two were good, but even Percy had to recognize Dante had been at the camp for six years, Frank and Hazel had been there for months.

So Percy directed Dante's attention toward him.

Blue eyes. That's what Percy had faltered while seeing. So blue eyes is what Dante adopted.

Percy watched his brown eye turn blue and Dante swore he did a double take.

Next up was hair. Dante's helmet had been ripped off half an hour ago. Now his dark hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat.

Red hair? Blond? That got a reaction.

"Luke?"

Dante took that as an opportunity, driving Percy back for once.

Whoever this Luke was, he made Percy falter.

Octavian screamed in a shrill voice— maybe ordering the First Cohort to stand their ground, maybe trying to sing soprano— but Percy put a stop to it. He snapped out of it , somersaulted over a line of shields and slammed the butt of his sword into Octavian's helmet. The centurion collapsed like a sock puppet.

Frank shot arrows until his quiver was empty, using blunt-tipped missiles that wouldn't kill but left some nasty bruises. He broke his pilum over a defender's head, then reluctantly drew his gladius.

Meanwhile, Hazel climbed onto Hannibal's back. She charged toward the center of the fort, grinning down at her friends. "Let's go, slowpokes!"

They ran to the center of the base. The inner keep was virtually unguarded. Obviously the defenders never dreamed an assault would get this far. Hannibal busted down the huge doors. Inside, the First and Second Cohort standard-bearers were sitting around a table playing Mythomagic with cards and figurines. The cohort's emblems were propped carelessly against one wall.

Hazel and Hannibal rode straight into the room, and the standard-bearers fell backward out of their chairs. Hannibal stepped on the table, and game pieces scattered.

In a final push, Dante willed the mist around him to mold his features into what he wanted. Blond hair became black, blue eyes became green and soon Percy Jackson was left fighting against himself.

Dante had been five when he found out he could essentially shapeshift into any human.

It freaked the hell out of his step-father when he first turned himself into his mother. Everything down to his voice was changed.

Young Dante and Dorian had found it hilarious. His step-father though, not so much.

Percy and Dante fought, neither willing to give up. If Dante's dagger got thrown out of his hand, he guided the fight to where it fell before eventually picking it back up again.