Reincarnation in the PJO verse: Volume 1

『When Life Brings Metaphors Alive』

Diedre finds Percy waiting downstairs, a hulking man sitting on the sofa, too small for his build. Standing beside him was an empousa and Ethan Nakamura.

Ethan was still wounded; his bandages were hastily wrapped around his arms and torso, and for a second, the last few pages flashed in his head. Ethan sacrificed himself because he understood that good and evil should be on an equal scale.
Ethan was never bad; he was just morally wrong in choosing sides, but was it even his fault? The gods were faulty in themselves, not noticing the thousands they aired to just forget about them in months.

Percy drummed his fingers as Diedre found his place beside him. Prometheus greeted him, saying, "Diedre Hayes, I have heard a lot about you."

What did a Titan hear about him in an army that was opposing their sides? Diedre sometimes felt the itch inside, that someone might find out that he did not belong in this world entirely; he was an outsider just looking out for the characters, the tale that was happening inside the book.

All he needed was to complete his work here and just leave the rest up to the main characters.

"I'm Prometheus, as you might have guessed," the Titan started.

"The fire-stealer guy? The chained-to-the-rock-with-the-vultures guy?" Percy asked. Oh, to be that boy, with zero hesitation and only words to bar.

Prometheus winced. He touched the scratches on his face. "Please, don't mention the vultures. But yes, I stole fire from the gods and gave it to your ancestors. In return, the ever-merciful Zeus had me chained to a rock and tortured for all eternity."

"But—"

"How did I get free? Hercules did that, eons ago. So you see, I have a soft spot for heroes. Some of you can be quite civilized."

"Unlike the company you keep," Percy sarcastically added again.

"Oh, demons aren't so bad," he said. "You just have to keep them well fed. Now, Percy Jackson, Diedre Hayes, let us parley."

He waved all of them towards a picnic table, and we sat down. Thalia and Grover stood behind them.

The blue giant propped his white flag against a tree and began absently playing on the playground. He stepped on the monkey bars and crushed them, but he didn't seem angry. He just frowned and said, "Uh- oh." Then he stepped in the fountain and broke the concrete bowl in half. "Uh-oh." The water froze where his foot touched it. A bunch of stuffed animals hung from his belt—the huge kind you get for grand prizes at an arcade. 

Prometheus sat forward and laced his fingers. He looked earnest, kindly, and wise. "Your position is weak. You know you can't stop another assault."

"We'll see."

Prometheus looked pained, like he cared what happened to me. "I'm the Titan of forethought. I know what's going to happen."

"Also the Titan of crafty counsel," Grover put in. "Emphasis on crafty."

Prometheus shrugged. "True enough, satyr. But I supported the gods in the last war. I told Kronos: 'You don't have the strength. You'll lose.' And I was right. So you see, I know how to pick the winning side. This time, I'm backing Kronos."

"Because Zeus chained you to a rock," Percy said.

"Also, the fact that hindsight is 20/20, you aren't the titan of the future, so you have no way of knowing what will happen," Diedre added

"Partly, yes. I won't deny I want revenge. But that's not the only reason I'm supporting Kronos. It's the wisest choice. I'm here because I thought you might listen to reason. And as I already said, we are already winning, I don't need my hindsight to be 20/20, Diedre. "