BOOK I:
POISON FOR POISON

CHORUS:

What was glory? Intangible, it is. Impossible to hold
in the palm of our hands. Yet, all the mighty seek
its glorious touch. To be remembered, that is the key.
That is the mark of a hero.

         Of a boy.

           A vengeful boy.

           To be remembered is a gift.

Ethan Nakamura, neither god nor hero in title, sets his
one-eyed gaze on the horizon before his people. But
alone, he stands. The ghost of a knife still pressing
into the skin of his cheek. One foot in each realm of the
Greek world—demigods are the reckoning. The decider.
An unyielding force, swooping like vultures for every
quest to be known by. His sacrifice stands in the palm of
his hand.

Love—it is the most deadly killer. Oh, tragic love,
Aphrodite's most tender touch. Her most tender
sacrifice. A slow, poison-like death for gods and
heroes alike. There is no running, fate has snapped
the lifeline of others for less.

The tender touch of love,
raging and violent on the skin of a man.
If Aphrodite descends in gentleness,
no other goddess brings such soft delight.
Never, Queen Aphrodite, lift your fingers
from the jut of our chins. Your arrow,
inescapable.

Of all pains and hardships none is worse
than to be deprived of your love.

Ethan Nakamura, neither god nor hero in title,
will never forget her name. To him, she will be
remembered in all her glory. The hilt of a knife
remaining their connection. Aphrodite's fingers
slick against the skin of his lip and chin.

Love–it is the most deadly killer. Oh, tragic love,
Aphrodite's most tender touch. There is no running.
Siren-like and beautiful, Kennedy Song's lure is
a knife half-cursed and wholly enticing. Her tender
touch, inescapable like a labyrinth.

The boy would never try.

What is glory? The boy doesn't quite know.
Nemesis cradles him in her palm. The mother
of revenge. Would she enact retribution against
her very own son? For us all, he has seeked its
glorious touch. We will be remembered, that
is the key to our victory.

An eye for an eye.
A knife for a stab wound.
Poison for poison.
That is the mark of his sacrifice.

SET DURING
THE BATTLE OF MANHATTAN / The Last Olympian.

this chorus line was written by my amazing friend, elysianfieId, whose leo valdez fic ARCANE is intertwined with AFTERLIFE.