Fresh sunlight poured through the apartment window, waking Percy from his sleep. Though the sunlight was warm and welcoming, a shiver went down his spine; the same type of feeling he had when he knew something was going to go wrong. Goosebumps appeared on his skin and the hair on his arms stood up just slightly. Adrenaline flowed into Percy's body, tensing his muscles, sharpening his senses, and activating his ADHD mind. He sprang up in his bed with a gasp, his green eyes searching the entire room for anything out of the ordinary. He half-expected a monster outside his window, and half-expected his clock to say 10:00, making him late for move-in for the first day of college in New Rome. He looked at the clock to see that it was 5:47 a.m., giving him a good two hours and thirteen minutes before he was supposed to meet up with Annabeth to leave for college.

His eyes scanned the room to make sure nothing was out of the ordinary; his tan walls were now clean, having previously been peppered with several artifacts from his many battles over the years. Those artifacts were packed up in his suitcases at the foot of his twin bed. Now, however, the Minotaur's horn hung by itself in the middle of the wall across from the bed. Percy had thought about taking it down, but he had an inexplicable feeling that the horn was a good luck charm and had helped keep him from getting killed in his sleep.

He turned and saw the moonlace flower that Calypso had given him. Ever since Calypso had reunited with Leo, it seemed that the flower was thriving no matter what the weather was. It seemed to glow with an unearthly silver, and it was something that provided an ethereal feel to his room. All his problems seemed to be small when he would focus his gaze on the flower. However, he continued to feel uneasy as he tore his eyes across the room. In the corner by the door was still all of his armor and weapons, packed into an athletic duffel bag and ready to be transported to New Rome.

The familiar feeling that he was in mortal danger cascaded through his body, which scared Percy. He had not felt that way in months, and he dared to hope that it wouldn't come again. He remembered being surprised that he even made it to eighteen. A few weeks ago, he had confided in Annabeth that even though it made him sound like he was sixty, he wanted to retire from fighting monsters. It was time for other heroes to come into the spotlight, he wanted to stop worrying his mother (and Paul in turn), and more than anything, he wanted something peaceful in his life, something that was permanent. Everything from Percy's education, his parents, his summer camp, his relationship, his friendships, and even his own self-identity was defined by battle, violence, and fear. After Gaea rose up and the Seven combined their powers and resources to defeat her, Percy had allowed himself to hope. To hope for a time of peace. There wasn't another prophecy, and they had gone home. Once his little sister Cyrene was born, everything had changed. Percy wasn't just hoping for peace, he needed it.

Cyrene Jackson was three months old, and her blue eyes always shined with curiosity. She was the daughter of his mother and Paul Blofis. Though the baby was completely mortal, Percy's mother had told him that she was named after a princess and a warrior who liked wrestling lions. When Percy did a bit more research, he saw that Apollo had a huge crush on the original Cyrene. He thought that was so weird that he put it out of his head and promised himself that he wouldn't think of that again. Percy fell in love with her the first time he held her, and told himself that he would protect her from all harm, even if it meant staying out of her life. It was at that point where he started to understand the parenting style of the gods, something that scared him a little bit.

Percy slid off his bed and his feet touched the cold floor. Though his hair was tousled and he undoubtedly probably had a lot of sleep's residue on his face, his senses were in overdrive. He never lost Lupa's sensory training and it had saved his behind in multiple occasions. Though the apartment was dark, he could tell his way around through a combination of familiarity and his training. He remembered this odd looking boy coming to the door a bit ago, claiming to be the god Apollo. He pushed that out of his head. He made his way out the door and froze. His world seemed to tilt sideways. He smelled and heard his mother and Paul in the room next to his, but he couldn't smell Cyrene.

Percy silently dashed all throughout the apartment, praying that he caught a whiff of her natural smell of cinnamon rolls. He ran to Cyrene's makeshift room (which was his mother's author space) and saw that she wasn't in her regular sleep sack. The apartment's temperature dropped a few degrees, and the sunlight that seeped through no longer seemed welcoming. He ran to the bathroom, but couldn't find her among the sea-blue tiles and the beach-themed shower curtains. He ran to the living room and couldn't find her there either. He yelled her name, hoping that she would make some noise, or cry, or something. He yelled it again, but he was so distraught that his yells seemed deafened. He sensed his mother and Paul rushing out asking him what's wrong. Percy looked at them. He was praying that they were holding his baby sister, but they just looked at him with a confused and scared expression. He knew they were talking to him, but he couldn't hear the sounds coming out of their mouth. They saw his expression and his red eyes, and they put two and two together. The three of them started to tear up the apartment, all of them screaming Cyrene's name. Though Percy was not properly registering sound, his heart broke when he saw his mother's scream in despair.

Percy tore his eyes away and looked towards the window, then at the door. His heart leapt; the window was slightly ajar. He whisked over to the window and opened it. He looked down at the five stories they were up, and saw nothing. He ran to the door, opened it, and looked down his apartment hall. He took a lap around the floor, but found nothing pertaining to Cyrene. He ran back to the apartment and saw Paul on the phone and his mother rocking back and forth while staring off into space with bloodshot, tear-stained eyes. She kept muttering Cyrene over and over again. Percy went to the sink and splashed himself with water, and suddenly he could hear again. His mother's voice sounded broken and Paul was hurriedly speaking with the police.

Percy stepped into his mother's office and saw Cyrene's empty sleep sack. In the sack was a small note that was the same cream color as the container it was in. Anger coursed through his veins; this note was most likely going to be someone's ransom note, or the mark of the thief. He made a mental note to keep the letter and show it to Annabeth, Chiron, Jason, Piper, Thalia, and everyone else that he thought could help. He reached out towards the note, his hand trembling. He felt all the water run through the entire apartment, including in the pipes, the sinks, and the shower heads. He shakily opened the note and there was nothing in it. Percy stared at the blank piece of paper for a split second, then realized that the note he was holding was very light; almost too light to be regular paper.

He recognized the paper as Mycenaean paper, a type of material that is lighter than today's paper, but that only "comes alive in the eye of Apollo." Annabeth had taught him that when she was looking to redesign Olympus. Percy stepped to the sunlight streaming through the window and thrust the paper in the light. Golden light formed letters in the paper for a few seconds until the print was legible.

"Welcome to your Trojan War."