[aliquid stat pro aliquo]

Returning after a sorely won battle always felt like moving in slow motion to Reese. He could never put his finger on the cause, even after years of fighting battles and waging wars. Maybe it was the combined exhaustion of all those who'd fought, or maybe it was the heaviness in their hearts as they realized that there would be another battle, another death, to see soon. Wars never got easier with time, Reese found. Soldiers always became desensitized to cruelty instead.

Reese slouched through the doorway of Nectar & Ambrosia, each movement as if it weighed a thousand pounds. He didn't need to look up in order to know that, like clockwork, the wounded would be shuttled to one of the many cots in their makeshift infirmary, the others would file into the elevator up into their living quarters, and the leaders would consult with Tessa to determine their next move.

It wasn't long until, like clockwork, there was no one left on the main floor of the café except Reese and his friends.

Slowly, the gravity of the situation came back to Reese in ebbing tides. When he was fighting, he'd become skilled at shutting out his emotions so he could focus. It was an effective skill, but of course, battles didn't end once its fighters left the battlefield. It remained with them in lingering fears and heart-wrenching concerns for those who had not been so lucky.

Reese closed his eyes, taking a breath. He was lucky. He'd bore the Curse of Achilles for years now, and save one very particular place, his skin was like steel. Although the Curse was exactly that: a curse. A burden to carry for the rest of his life, or at least until something else wiped it away. By stepping into that river, Reese had sealed his fate as a soldier, a weapon for an endless war...

The water seemed to burn away at Reese's skin, melting his flesh right down to bone. His head fizzed with excruciating pain, as if it was splitting open, being replaced with steel. Reese opened his eyes, remembering what Flynn had told him. He needed to focus, on that which would keep him tethered to the mortal world, or else he'd burn up entirely.

And suddenly he wasn't in the River Styx, but Long Island Sound back at Camp. The water sparkled under the summer sun. Three plumes of bubbles pierced the water's surface, and suddenly Reese was staring at the faces of his friends: Kaden, Tessa, Mark. They were all swimming about underwater, waving up at the surface. Reese followed their gaze and standing atop a duo of canoes were Dale, Flynn, Amelie, and Sierra. Sierra and Flynn caved, leaving Dale and Amelie to look at one another and roll their eyes good-naturedly.

The pain seemed to numb entirely at that. Tessa and Kaden began racing for the surface, Mark tapped Reese's shoulder and gestured for him to follow, and Reese did exactly that, kicking up until he took lungfuls of sweet air...

Kaden's groaning brought Reese entirely out of his memories. He turned his attention over to where the son of Venus was laying in a cot, with none other than Reese's mother treating the sickly wound on Kaden's side.

"Kaden, dear, I need you to hold still," Reese's mother was saying.

"Easier said than done," Kaden winced, gritting his teeth as Ms. Hale lowered her hand to Kaden's side. She pressed the cloth to his wound, and Kaden released a guttural howl of pain.

"Mom," Reese snagged his mother's attention. Anytime she met his gaze, she looked partially spooked, as if she still couldn't believe her eyes. Reese nodded to Kaden. "I think you're killing him."

Angela Hale pressed her lips together and returned to cleaning Kaden's wound. "I know what I'm doing, Reese. He'll be okay."

"Debatable," Kaden panted, his eyes opening.

"Hush," Angela sniped as she replaced her bloodied washcloth with bandages. Kaden obeyed, his mouth falling shut. It wasn't long until his eyes fluttered shut as well, and his breathing became steady.

"What'd you do to him?" Reese marveled, eyebrows taut with confusion.

"A sleeping draught as the rest of the venom works its way out of his system," Reese's mother recited, finishing up her work on Kaden's bandages. When she did, she stood, eyeing Reese as she moved. "Why do you seem so startled?"

Reese blinked, shaking his head. "It's just...strange."

His mother quirked an eyebrow. "Strange?"

"Yeah," Reese said. He cleared his throat, trying to find the right words. "The last time I saw you..."

His mother went rigid, freezing above the basin of water. She gave Reese a calculated look, one so unlike her sunny personality. "I remember."

"Mom," Reese tried, but to no avail. His mother turned to him, and despite being much shorter than him, held his gaze with integrity.

"I gave you my blessing for that curse of yours, Reese. I didn't want to, but I did. It was so painful that I nearly forgot I did it." She whispered. "But I did what I had to do to keep you safe."

She'd said those same words to him once before, Reese remembered. Before she'd dropped Reese and Flynn off at Camp Half-Blood. They wouldn't be safe with her, no matter how fiercely she'd tried to protect them.

Reese's mother sighed, staring at the rippling water in the basin. "I was weaker then. But I'm not anymore, Reese. Now, go."

Reese was immune to injury, but as he trudged away from the infirmary, he felt a thrumming pain begin to blossom near his heart.

~~

When Reese reunited with Mark, Dale, and Tessa, the former appeared to be equally confused as to what the latter was doing. Reese took a breath, approaching Mark, who was slumped into one of the booth seats, watching what was unfolding before him.

"Uh, what's happening?" Reese asked.

Mark sighed, lazily flitting his eyes up to meet Reese's. "Tessa has a hunch."

Reese whirled around and found Tessa rifling through a bin of file folders with feverish intensity. Her hair was still sticking up out of its ponytail, bruises were beginning to form around her neck, and tiny droplets of Vinny Maxwell's blood still hung on her skin, but Tessa did not seem to care one bit. What she did care about was something hidden in the sea of file folders before her.

"What kind of hunch?" Reese asked, still watching Tessa as one would watch a wolverine.

"Matthew said something to her," Dale deadpanned as she drained a mug of coffee from behind the counter.

Reese drew his eyebrows together. As far as he was concerned, Matthew Baines had said a lot of things in his final moments, but nothing he could remember was worth any thought, considering what had come immediately after.

"Tessa..." Reese began.

"FOUND IT." Tessa held up a file in triumph, breathing heavily.

"Huzzah," Mark muttered before falling backwards onto the booth seat. "I'm tired. Wake me up later."

Dale shot Mark a look. "You hardly did anything except run that whole fight."

Mark held up a hand, pointing over to the infirmary on the opposite side of the café. "Uh, excuse me, I had to carry Kaden's sorry ass all the way back here. He weighs a lot."

Tessa thumped down the file folder onto Mark's table, making the son of Iris scramble into an upward position. "You can sleep when we're done here, Mark. For now, I need all hands on deck."

Reese craned his neck to read the label on the file folder. His eyes widened at what he saw. "Tessa, this is the folder on Project Maelstrom."

"I know," Tessa said, opening the folder.

"We already know what Project Maelstrom is." Reese stated.

Tessa fixed Reese with a look as she rifled through the papers and reports. "I know. But there was something in here that we dismissed as a false lead. Something I think Matthew Baines was trying to help us with."

Dale snorted at that, circling around the counter and sliding into the booth seat next to Mark. "Matthew Baines and helping have never been in the same sentence."

"Don't speak ill of the dead," Tessa chided, her voice suddenly soft. "But he did. He said, 'Wall Street'."

Mark blinked. "And that's a clue because...?"

Tessa pulled out a single report. "Because Wall Street has never come up in our investigation of Menoetious and/or Project Maelstrom until we gained word of this. Operation: Tempest."

Everyone fell silent at that. Reese reached forward and gingerly plucked the paper from Tessa's hands. There was nothing on the file, save a theory that a captured storm spirit had mentioned a plan called Operation: Tempest centered around Wall Street.

Reese shook his head, glancing up at Tessa. "Tessa, I don't think any of this is credible."

"Everything's credible in wartime, Reese," Tessa raised her eyebrows at him. "Besides, you all are forgetting one very crucial detail."

"And that is?" Mark mused.

Tessa muttered a curse and unsheathed her sword, laying it on the table. "Tempest. The plan either has something to do with my sword or me. Frankly, I'd like to find out which."

Reese eyed Tempest. The sunlight streaming in through the window caught the bronze and the turquoise gems encrusted around its hilt, making it glow like some sword out of a fairy tale. "Then what do you suggest we do?"

Tessa snatched her sword, tapping the hilt. In a flash of light, the mighty weapon was nothing but a hairpin. She tucked it into her brown hair, gathering her files. "I'm going to do some more research. Let me know if anything comes up."

And with that, Tessa disappeared into the elevator.

"What do you guys think?" Dale asked, flicking her golden eyes between Reese and Mark.

Reese shrugged. "I think it's just a hunch. We have more important things to worry about."

"But what if it's a lead?" Dale asked, lacing her fingers together.

"Ever the devil's advocate, aren't you, carnation?" Mark asked from beside her.

Dale promptly ignored him. "Reese?"

Reese blew out a sigh, raking a hand through his blond hair. "I think...Tessa's always one step ahead of us. If she thinks this is going to be important, then might as well let her figure it out."

Dale quirked a brow, but thankfully, didn't ask anymore questions. She slid out of the booth and headed behind the counter, busying herself with putting away the rest of the files Tessa had torn through.

For a moment, there was pensive silence, that familiar lull after a battle when everyone occupied themselves before the next. Reese sat back in his chair, shut his eyes, and thought of all those he'd vowed to keep safe when he received the curse. Kaden, Tessa, Mark, Dale, Flynn, Amelie, Sierra. Imogen.

A stabbing pain ripped through Reese's heart, and he forced it back. Flynn said he would tell him when there were any updates on Imogen, but she was still unconscious. Reese couldn't protect her in time.

Kaden was wounded a few feet away. Tessa was haunted and tormented, desperately searching for a way to end this war with as painlessly as possibly. Mark had been kidnapped, living with the ghosts of his actions. Dale had been held hostage, subject to horrors Reese couldn't imagine. Flynn had been tortured, Amelie had been wounded, Sierra had been killed.

How many of his loved ones would have to be hurt due to his ineptitude?

Before Reese could find an answer, his moment of peace ended. A frantic beeping sound echoed through the café, as if an alarm had been set off. Reese sat up straight, looking around. Mark did the same, only he hit the table on his way up and released a stream of curses.

"Dale?" Reese called.

"Someone's teleporting in," Dale said, darting around behind the counter. "I don't know how, but they are."

Reese grabbed his bow off his back. "Hostile or friendly?"

"We're about to find out," Dale huffed a breath.

Reese reached back and grabbed an arrow, stringing it as he watched a vibrant, bubbling portal form in the center of the café. A figure emerged—or rather, stumbled—through it, and the light died.

Reese lowered his bow, bewildered.

"Man, I still hate portals," Said Eli Allistairs as he brushed himself off in the middle of Nectar & Ambrosia. He looked up, his pale blue eyes wide. "Sorry to interrupt a war, but I have some pressing news."

~~

Reese had not seen Eli Allistairs since they had interrogated him on the circumstances regarding Kiara Fairwolf's death. Then, he had been bitter, cold, and closed off to even them. But now, it appeared as if Eli was back to himself again, a bumbling, sheepish son of Ahklys whose disposition did not match his deadly powers.

"Eli," Dale said, her cheerful tone a stark contrast to the shocked look on her face. "What're you doing here?"

"I just said," Eli said blankly. "I have some pressing news." He looked around the room. "Are Tessa and Kaden around? They'll probably wanna hear this too."

"They're...indisposed at the moment," Reese managed.

Eli narrowed his eyes at Reese. "Define indisposed."

"Eli," Dale snapped. "Point, please."

Eli shook his head, as if snapping himself out of it. "Right, right. Well, I don't really know where to start. I was at Camp Half-Blood—"

"You were?" Mark asked, still seated at the booth. "I thought you normally rolled with the Romans."

"That was before they went all Captain America: Civil War on you guys," Eli raised his eyebrows at Mark. "But that's pretty much down the drain now considering what happened—"

"—Eli—"

"Right!" Eli cleared his throat. "So I was at Camp Half-Blood, helping out and everything, when I managed to observe Chase Ferguson."

"Chase?" Reese asked. "How is he?"

Eli's face fell. "Not good. He goes in and out of screaming fits. Medics have had to refill their stock of tranquilizers twice because of him."

"Di immortales," Dale muttered, shaking her head. "Will he be okay?"

"That's what I'm here about," Eli's voice was grim. He seemed shaky, and he crossed to sit at one of the bar stools. "Flynn and the medics think that they've figured out the source behind Chase's...episodes."

"He's under some sort of spell," Mark said, getting up and joining them where they stood.

"Well, yes," Eli said, drumming his fingers against the countertop. "But it's a lot worse than we thought. The curse...it connects him directly to Typhon."

Reese felt the breath stream out of him in shock. "What?"

"His episodes are directly linked to Typhon's exhibitions of power," Eli explained. "When Typhon fully awoke and triggered the tsunami, Chase had his first episode. Now, Typhon's been moving across the Midwest. The more powerful storms Typhon creates, the worse Chase's symptoms become."

"There's gotta be some way to sever the link," Dale insisted.

"There is," Eli chewed on his lip. "But you won't like it."

"Let's hear it," Reese decided, folding his arms across his chest.

Eli took a deep breath. "Chase's life force is directly tied to that of Typhon's. If Typhon is defeated, then Chase will be freed. But because of their connection, the longer Typhon goes with gaining strength, the weaker Chase becomes. It's like the more time Typhon spends gaining power, Chase becomes...less like Chase."

Reese's heartbeat began to thrum inside his head, a hallowing drum. "So how do we sever the link?"

One look into Eli's eyes, and Reese knew the answer.

"The only way to sever the link would be to destroy Typhon before he gains the kinetic energy necessary to destroy the east coast and Olympus." Eli said, his voice grave.

Mark's face fell. "B-but you just said that the stronger Typhon gets, the weaker Chase becomes. If Typhon and Chase are connected—"

"—Then destroying Typhon would result in Chase Ferguson's immediate death."