Nico POV

The next few days went by in a blur. I met more of the camp, like Luke (a former soldier, like me and, as I learned, like much of the camp⁠—the army's horrible treatment was leading to escapees and small revolts) and Annabeth. Both were extremely kind, and both began to join our little picnics. Reyna tried to make it to the ones she could, which admittedly was not a lot, but it was nice to have her there when she could.

At one such picnic, Reyna had promised to show up (a rebellion in Hermesneedstu Learnparenteeng, a city in the west, had gone surprisingly well so she was celebrating) but had yet to do so, so we held off the meal until she was here. Instead, we went fishing (with actual fishing poles this time, to Will's disappointment, though that didn't stop him from jokingly trying to give me another "token of love") and Annabeth came over to speak with me.

"Have you caught anything?" I asked.

"No, I'm not big on fishing. I saw your boyfriend over there was, though," she smiled. "You really snatched up the prince, huh?"

I turned red. "Well, uh, kind of?" I sideyed her. "Were⁠—were you interested in him?"

She made a face before quickly apologizing. "He's nice, it's just⁠—well, I have a boyfriend, and I actually wanted to ask you about him." Her posture quickly changed from friendly to exhausted.

"What about him?" I asked, worried she was going to ask⁠—

"I just wanted to know.... I mean, you're the soldier they found, right?"

I nodded, knowing what was coming and very worried about what answer I would have to give.

"Percy's in the army, too. He went in as a spy, but he never came back and I was just wondering..." she swallowed, bracing herself for the answer. "I was just wondering if you had ever met him? Percy Jackson was his full name."

My eyes widened and I looked up. Well, shit. "Yeah, I knew Percy, actually."

He had made himself known not just to me, but to everyone. When he left camp, he wanted to make sure all of us would remember the name Percy Jackson⁠—and not necessarily in the same light as one remembers good fighters, though he was one, mind you⁠—Soldier 642.

He challenged everything. Not at first, but right out the gate you could tell something was different about him. He didn't hold his stances with as much precision, and his eyes followed you everywhere. There was no fear in his eyes, only curiosity and intelligence. He might want to make himself known, but even more than that, he wanted to know you. It was unsettling, and I had tried to avoid him for my own safety, but that quickly failed as I was pulled into his orbit, just like everyone else at the camp. He spoke like a professional⁠—convincing us of ideas we didn't even know were possible.

Word of rebellion spread like wildfire around the camp. We would fight the general, and the lieutenant, and the king if we had to. We were going to revolt, and we were going to free ourselves from this torture. Within weeks, we were all convinced it would happen, and at the center of the rumors was Percy whispering ideas into our head and then turning around and stealing the spotlight once again as he fought General Ares, or as he openly broke form during a test. He was a whirlwind, causing chaos everywhere his quiet whispers stirred sleeping soldiers or where his boots stirred dirt from the ground⁠—Percy Jackson was more than a force to be reckoned with; Percy Jackson was Chaos himself. (A/N: This might be the most epic way I've ever described Percy.)

The day Bianca died. The day she reached for those berries, and I broke form.

Percy had been there.

~~A fun little flashback that definitely holds no murder~~

We'd been standing in form for hours by this point. We hadn't eaten all day, or the day before. We'd been given water, but that was it. It was a test, they told us. The challenge was obvious: Make it through the whole time (which they didn't tell us⁠—only that General Ares would be back in when he felt it'd been long enough) without eating the food laying out on the table so you could move up a rank level.

I was rank three, and so were Bianca and Percy. About fifty or so other rank-threes were standing at attention around the table.

And on the table was a feast⁠—everything covered in sticky red sauces and garnished with the leaves of unknown plants and decorated with little red berries. Turkey, salads, sandwiches, fruit bowls and cakes.

I was shaking from exhaustion. Percy was on my right, Bianca on my left. I couldn't smell the food anymore, thank God, or else I might have already caved. I kept my eyes away from the table, and tried to think of things other than the cramping in my stomach. Eyes watering, I resisted the urge to fold in on myself.

Bianca licked her lips beside me. Her eyes were not on the ground, or on the sky, or the other soldiers of our rank. She stared directly at the table. "Hey Nico," she murmured, without even moving her lips. "I don't think anyone would notice if I took some of those berries."

Percy gave her a sharp look. "Don't, 1317. I have a bad feeling about all of this."

Bianca shifted and I inhaled sharply, eyes darting to the door leading out of the cafeteria. "Don't move," I warned her. "You're going to get caught. You want to end up like Bob did?"

It was like she couldn't hear me. Panic rose like bile in my throat. She had to stop this or she was going to be killed, there was no doubt about it. Her hair was falling out of her braid. She was beginning to show signs of exhaustion as well⁠—her normally perfect form was sinking, folding, crumbling. I looked down at the floor, desperately trying to think of things to say to convince her, to get her to listen.

"Bianca, no. They're going to kill you if you eat anything. Straighten your back. Come on. I know you can do this, we've done it before."

"We're probably almost done," Percy whispered, trying his best to help me. "Soon, we'll get a feast bigger than this one, and one that won't get you killed. We just have to wait."

She narrowed her eyes. "No one would notice if I just took a couple of berries. No one would notice."

I glared at her. "Bianca, you are not going to leave me here alone. I need you here, and if you get yourself killed, I don't know what I would do, so if you go eat those berries, I swear to God⁠—"

She shushed me as we heard footsteps pass the door. For a few minutes, I thought she'd forgotten about them. Good; it was for her safety. I refocused my attention on the wooden floor, making a game out of all the spots you could get splinters and imagining, hypothetically, if I were to go eat from that table⁠—which I wouldn't⁠—then where I should step in order to keep my feet from getting them. Then that got boring and I counted the number of planks, not for the first time in this test. I counted them again after that, and then moved on to the ceiling, counting the lanterns.

Voices outside the door. I tried to make out what they were saying. They disappeared, laughter fading away. I strained my ears to hear more, for anything to focus on other than the table.

"I'm grabbing a few berries. I'll be quick," Bianca declared to me. I broke form for the first time ever to grab her arm and pull her back. I quickly resumed my position. My heart thundered in my chest. If someone reported that, I'd be executed.

Percy was watching the table with narrowed eyes. "Why does everything have that sauce on it? It doesn't look super appealing. Why would they add something unless it was meant to tempt us?"

Bianca muttered on my other side, "It looks perfectly tempting to me."

Percy shook his head almost undetectably. "But it wouldn't be unless you were really hungry. Normally I'd be revolted by a sauce like that, all chunky and the weird thickness.... I don't trust it. Something's weird, 1317. Don't eat anything."

She licked her lips again, and this time sprinted for the table before I could grab her. She grabbed a handful of red berries from the bowl and looked back at me with bright eyes.

"Bianca!" I hissed. "Get back over here! You're going to get yourself⁠—" I cut myself off as she raised her hand to her mouth to eat. The other soldiers watched us with wide eyes. It was not uncommon for a soldier to break form and fail the test, but Bianca and I had been inseparable since we arrived and they knew she would be leaving me behind to eat those berries. Eyes fell on me, waiting to see my reaction.

They didn't have to wait long. I broke form and ran over. I grabbed her hand, trying to make her stop. Red juice from popped berries leaked down her wrist and forearm. I desperately tried to stop her. "Bianca. Bianca, stop. Please." She managed to get a couple into her mouth, but I refused to stop fighting her. If I could just get the berries' juice off her skin and her away from the table, maybe I could still save her.

Percy cursed behind me. "The juice is like a dye. That's why there's red sauce everywhere. If we eat something, we're marked."

I ignored him. I'd get it off. I'd....

Something was wrong with her. She coughed once, then twice, and then she was coughing uncontrollably. She held her hand to her throat. I looked at Percy, but his form was perfect even though his eyes were panicked, never leaving me.

I swore. There was no help for us if Percy wouldn't⁠—he was the bravest one here. I turned back to Bianca. She was choking, I think. I thought I could still hear breathing, but it was ragged and strained and rare. What was happening?

"Bianca, what can I do? What can I do?"

She was unconscious soon. I swallowed hard and sat back. I hadn't been taught how to save someone from...whatever this was. I looked back at Percy, confident he would know what to do. His hand was still in the air though, perfectly angled. He would not be coming over.

"Percy, I get if you don't want to come over here, but how do I save her? What do I do?"

He shook his head, Adam's apple bobbing up and down for a moment. His eyes were pained. "I don't think there's anything we can do, 1017."

I swore at him. "You've never said that before, why say it now? I know there must be a way to save her but we're running out of time⁠—"

"Nico," he said. He was one of very few who knew my name. "I don't think she's choking. I think she was poisoned."

I froze. We couldn't save her from a poisoning. We had no equipment, no training, and no knowledge of even a hypothetical way to save her. But no. A poisoning made no sense, all she did was eat some berries, is that really the worst thing?

"That juice⁠—I was wrong; it's not a dye. Those berries must be poisonous, and they put the juice everywhere so they'd know we ate something. Nico, come back and stand with me. I know⁠—I know it's hard, but you have to mourn later. You're going to be killed, too." I looked down at my hands. They were already covered in berry juice. I look back at Percy, fear in my eyes. Bianca had gone down, and she'd taken me with her.

We ran out of time to discuss solutions. The door creaked and I froze, guilty and unmoving over my dead sister.

The general's eyes landed on us without surprise. He lifted my hand to check for stains, but noticed I was not choking. He looked at Bianca, whose eyes were blank and whose mouth was hanging open. A sob fought to escape my throat, but I fought it. I would not show weakness in front of this man, or in front of anybody.

He grunted. "Tried to save her? Speak."

I stood up and got back into form. "Yes, sir."

"You realize you were told not to break form for anything?"

I took a deep breath. This was it. I was a dead man. "Yes, sir."

He sighed and dropped my arm. He looked at me with apathetic eyes. "Then your crime is the same as hers. You'll be executed soon. We'll make an announcement about it tomorrow."

Percy stepped forward, expression angry. "General Ares. He's a good soldier with a big heart⁠—let this one slide. He knows his mistake and I'm sure he would not repeat it."

The general turned to him. "Did I tell you you could speak, 642? Did I tell you to break form?"

He dropped his hand from the respectful position he'd been holding it at. "No, and I don't need you to. You're not going to execute this boy, General. I couldn't save his sister by the time she'd eaten the poison, but you know full well this boy does not have to die."

The general raised his hand to either slap or punch Percy, I'm not sure which. Percy grabbed it and in a second, he'd somehow managed to flip him onto his back on the ground. There was a sickening crack as the general's head hit the ground. Percy looked at me and said, "Come with me. We'll escape, I know how!"

But I couldn't; that was against the rules and my sister was dead beside me. I looked at him. "I'm not going with you, 642."

He dropped his shoulders. "We can get out of here, man, we can still save your life."

But I was paralyzed with fear and shock and who knows what else. The general groaned, rubbing his head and Percy quickly took a heavy platter from the table, emptied it, and hit the general's head again. He turned back to me and held out his hand. "Come on. We don't have that much time. Look, my name is Percy Jackson, and I promise you I'll get you somewhere safe, somewhere you can help other people like Bianca, but we have to leave."

I ignored him. He swore at me and grabbed my arm, and I had to fight him to let me go. We both struggled, with me wanting to stay and him wanting me to escape. I shoved him, which was a bold move considering he had a lower soldier number, meaning he was the better soldier.

Finally he backed off, eyes disappointed. He'd been hoping I'd leave with him. Hoping he could save me and Bianca. But he'd failed with Bianca and the image of him standing there, useless, while I struggled to think of something to save her flashed into my mind when I looked at him again. I couldn't trust this man with anything, let alone my life.

And so he left alone with only a "Fine. To the stars, 1017" as a goodbye. The rebellion he'd spread rumors of never happened. His dreams of freedom died when we realized he didn't mean freedom for all of us⁠—just the ones who were easiest to save. That night, he hadn't saved anyone. The camp put up posters looking for him, but they didn't know his name and no one who knew it told the generals what it was, including me.

And so the legendary Percy Jackson, who spoke of rebellion, hope, escape, dreams, and freedom, rode away that night on a stolen stallion and took his ideas with him.

~~What a fun flashback, so glad you could all make it~~

On the shore, Annabeth waited for me to say more. Her eyes were bright for the first time in the conversation, and I didn't know what to tell her. That he'd abandoned my camp? That he'd left my sister and I for dead? I swallowed hard.

"Percy escaped only a few days before the battle on Heraizdawurst Bay," I said monotonously. "He had to leave or he would've been executed. He, my sister, I.... We accidentally caused some trouble and he had to leave."

A sob escaped her throat and she quickly covered it up, trying to be strong and smart about this. "He's alive, then? He made it out with you? Where did you split up?"

I scratched at the wood of my fishing pole. "Well, actually, he left alone. I didn't go with him. I know they hadn't taken down the wanted signs by the time of the battle, though. So as far as I know, they never caught him."

She raised her chin. Her shoulders relaxed. "You're the first one who's known anything about him. Everyone else I've asked⁠—they never seem to know who he is. He told me he'd go to as many camps as he could⁠—I thought it'd be easier to locate him."

I shrugged. "He only told me his name the night he left, or else I wouldn't have recognized it either. And it's kind of hard to have a description of a soldier help unless there's something really, really odd about them. I have his soldier number memorized though, if you want it. It should make it easier to find him."

She nodded curtly. "What was it?"

"642. Any soldier that met him would recognize the number⁠—Percy didn't want anyone to forget him," I joked, though a bitter feeling lingered in my stomach.

She laughed, relieved, and stood up. "Six forty-two. Six forty-two. I'm going to find him. Thank you⁠—um, what's your name?"

I looked up at her. Nico or Ten-Seventeen? No, I'd already told Will I'd start using my civilian name rather than my soldier number. "Oh, it's Nico." I stood up with her to shake her hand. "Nico di Angelo."

Word count: 3008

And what fun times all of those 3008 words held!