Prequel

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Perseus's POV

"Percy, watch out!"

I narrowly missed a bomb by jumping into the trench. I could never get used to the constant danger out in the battle field.

"Thanks Grover. That was a close one," I stated, but close encounters with death didn't scar me as much as they used to. It was the year 1864, and I was fighting for my country. My home. And now I was fighting for the hope to go home soon.

Gun in hand, I ran through the trenches. It wasn't the time to get distracted. This is what we were training for. We needed to win the war.

I was probably the worst soldier ever because I didn't want to kill anyone. Confederate or not, these were still people. With families. And homes. Therefore I always aimed at the leg or arm, never fatal shots. However, my aim was always dead accurate, thanks to training. I looked over the top of the trench, and steadied my gun on the ground in front of me. I didn't want to, but I pulled the trigger. Men across the field fell to their knees, and I felt a stab of guilt.

This wasn't home anymore, with pranks with Grover and fun with family. This was the real world. And I wasn't going home anytime soon. Not until the war ended.

Maybe when the war is over, I'd finally settle down. Relax a bit. Get married and have a family. We could live in a big house in the nicer part of town and-

"Percy! Look out!"

Dang, I got distracted. I looked back and saw a grenade drop near me in the trench. Curses. I jumped as far away from it as I could as an explosion rang throughout the trenches.

BOOM

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