'Conglomeration'

14-Sep-2030, 1330T

LCDR Percy Jackson, US Navy, Son of Neptune

Legion XII

Yuma, Arizona, USA

"So, how're y'all handlin' the classes?" I asked, sliding into the booth beside Hazel and Reyna. Kyung and Nai were taking a break for lunch, so my friends decided to do the same, walking to a local Tex-Mex restaurant to sample the local flavors. And I, in all my impromptu glory, joined them.

"Bro, this has been a very taxing week," Frank muttered across from us as he took a sip of water. "It's like the information's being crammed into my head like the ten pounds of poop the Mythbusters tried to stuff in a five pound sack. Not that they're bad teachers, but geez! How much is there to learn?"

"Well, if the four of you wanna be gunfighters, you gotta know as much as possible. You can have a good weapon and other fancy shit, but training is the bedrock. Best piece of equipment is the one between your ears, Grizzly."

"Huh, you sound like Annabeth now," Leo remarked as he swallowed a bite of taco. "Remind me again why we didn't loop her and the rest of the Little Three in on this?"

"For all intents and purposes, this 'fireteam,' as Percy called it, is an experiment," Reyna said. "The monsters undoubtedly know about Percy and Tyson, so I don't think we need them to know that there are more shooters in development."

"Well said, Ramirez," I replied with a grin. "By the way, Kyung told me about your run with the MPX. And that goes for all y'all. You're learning fast. Hell, a lot faster than I did."

"That reminds me, how did you meet Mr. Kyung?" Hazel asked curiously. "I know you said his wife was new to you, but you mentioned a... jay-set?"

"Ah-ha... the JCET. Well... in late 2021, my unit and I went to South Korea to train with a detachment from their Special Warfare Flotilla... the UDT/SEALs, who are effectively the Korean version of US Navy SEALs."

"But if they're a combat unit, what were you doing there as a weapons tester?"

"Same reason I've done just about everything else in my life past the age of twelve: I got voluntold into doing it. Anyways, I was assigned to work with Kyung's team. He was the... point-man, I think. The guy at the front of the stack—who is generally not the team leader, despite what Hollywood thinks. I got slotted right behind him, so I ended up covering his six—and his nine and three, to an extent—quite a bit. Plus, our OICs—officers-in-charge, that is—decided that each Korean would be paired up with an American for the duration of the JCET. And Kyung, of course, ended up as my battle buddy, and personally saved my dumbass from getting killed."

"Say, we do something like that in the Legion too! No formal name for it, but there are pairs within each contubernium," Frank noted. "I mean, technically the contubernium is the smallest unit in the legion, but in modern times, legionaries move in pairs in the camp or even for special tasks on the battlefield."

"Huh, guess the Romans have battle buddies too. So Kyung and I were stuck together for several weeks. As it turned out, he really enjoys American films—hell, it's how his English ended up better than my Korean—so we ended up bonding over that... and guns, of course. We spent a lot of time at the range, trading weapons. Gotta say, the Korean-made ones weren't half bad. Hell, we accidentally gave our OICs the idea of having everyone swap weapons—American machine gunners with Korean machine guns, American snipers with Korean sniper rifles, and so on. It was all fun and games until shit hit the fan."

"Yeah? How so?" Leo asked.

"Well... okay, you four have to promise to never discuss this with anyone else."

"Wait, wha—"

"I'm serious, Valdez. You cannot discuss this with anyone else."

"Okay, we won't," Reyna promised, holding up her hands. "Are you gonna tell us or leave us in suspense?"

"So... the Ramen Incident."

"The what?"

"Okay, well... we were conducting some mock-VBSS in the Yellow Sea—visit, board, search, and seizure—and everything was going smoothly, even with Americans using Korean arms and vice versa. Then all of a sudden, we get orders to endex and get back to the boat, 'cause of some freak weather goin' on. As we're gettin' locked down, my commander tells us that they got an SOS signal from a nearby merchantman. They're takin' on water and need some major help. So, of course, we get underway, but can't risk launchin' birds to help out the merchantman."

"Okay, but what does this have to do with ramen?" Frank interrupted.

"I'm getting there. Eventually, the SOS signal gets really, really urgent, so the call's made to get some birds in the air. Unfortunately, the ship gets knocked about by the storm too, conveniently chucking a Korean CSAR team down some stairs, so Kyung, me, and two other dudes end up takin' their place because... honestly, I'm not sure. Understaffed ship or all medical personnel were takin' care of everythin' else. But we grab some shit, load two Black Hawks, and get airborne. We got wind and rain, but the pilots do good.

"So when we arrive, the merchantman's in deep shit—sinking and on fire, apparently due to some sort of sparks somewhere. Eighteen-man crew's up on the deck, waiting for rescue. Since they're at the bow and there ain't anywhere else for 'em to go easily, my bird waits while the other hovers low and gets nine crewmen aboard. They peel off from the ship while we go to get the rest. It's all going fine until something explodes, making the last man falter and almost take a forever nap in the ocean. Kyung and I catch him as the bird veers off, but right as we pull him up..."

The helicopter suddenly rattled, making the ROKN pilots shout "hang on, hang on!" in heavily accented English and apparently in Korean too. We grabbed onto whatever we could inside the helicopter as the pilots steered it away from the ship. Suddenly, I stumbled, almost getting thrown out of the helicopter as Kyung and another sailor grabbed my ankles.

"Sonuvabitch!" I cursed as I tried to reach up towards the cabin, but my arms flailed as myt torso refused to budge, stuck from the angle at which the helicopter was flying. And if things weren't bad enough, a violent gust of wind yanked the aircraft the other way, with Kyung too losing his grip. The sailors reached for us, each shouting our names, but were unable to stop us from falling into the sea below.

"SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!"

I'm not sure how much I fell by, but I focused everything I had into trying to cushion Kyung's fall. While I hadn't used my powers much, I still had just enough to create a meager air bubble and somewhat soften the water as we hit some thirty feet apart. With only a chest rig, sidearm, and submachine gun along with my helmet, camo, boots, and belt, I wasn't terribly weighed down—even if I weren't a son of Neptune. Looking around to get the lay of the land—er, sea—I felt and saw violently swirling currents, wildlife getting tossed about, and... a green light?

Wait a minute...

"You've got to be shitting me," I muttered to myself as I propelled myself towards the bottom, mindful of the air bubble I kept around Kyung and the light current keeping him from sinking. It took a minute, but I soon reached what appeared to be the "eye" of the storm. Of course, given my own track record, my luck ran out as watery tendrils reached out, quickly capturing my wrists, ankles, and torso. And given who the controller of the bindings was, my escape was effectively impossible.

"Well... hello, brother dear," said a melodic female voice, its owner being none other than my lunatic half-sister: Kymopoleia. "I'm quite surprised to see you all the way out here. You here to visit little old me?"

"You're twenty feel tall. Not exactly 'little,'" I shot back, staring her down and eliciting a dolphin laugh... and who could forget that too-cold smile of hers?

"Hmm, my little brother has grown a spine, I see."

"Nope, it just got stronger since the last time we met... though jumping probably screwed with my knees."

"Well, well... this must be that infamous 'Persass' I've heard of."

"Shut it down."

"And why would I do that?"

"Because good men will die if you don't."

"You're in no position to make demands, little brother," she chuckled as she shrunk herself—still ten feet tall, but easier for her to bend down and look me in the eye as the tendrils held me firmly.

"The hell I ain't. My teammates are up there," I growled back, increasingly infuriated. "Along with eighteen men we're tryin' to save from your bullshit."

"Hmmm, that's a rather big demand... why should I obey?"

"'Cause I'll bust your ass if you don't. And if that doesn't work, I'll sic a Los Angeles on you."

Honestly, I kind of expected her to smite me for my backtalk, but all she did was laugh, like I was a puppy performing a trick or a chihuahua trying to be a wolf—not in character for someone that seemed to get off on being feared.

"You really think such weapons will even scratch me? Polybotes's trident barely made me flinch. What will the armament of mortal men do to me?"

"We dropped the sun on our enemy twice and can wipe out all life on Earth several times over... what do you think it'll do to you... sister dear?" I asked, mocking her tone, eliciting another laugh from her.

"My, my... my little brother has spirit," she purred, her face getting a little too close towards mine. "I'll admit, this 'Los Angeles' of yours sounds intriguing... you should summon it, try to defeat me. Then you shall see what it will do to me... and I to it and you."

It was a tight spot, to say the least. I'd probably lose in a head-to-head fight, but perhaps I could try... maybe even—

"Wait, what the hell?" I gasped as I looked up, making Kymopoleia roll her eyes as mine widened at the sight above me.

"Don't think you can distract me—"

"This isn't a ploy, jack wagon! Look up!"

"What in the—"

And suddenly, we were swarmed, thanks to the slight downward slope of Kymopoleia's violent currents. Not by debris, as you would expect, but by... ramen?

"AAAAAAAAAGH!" my half-sister screamed as we were quickly engulfed by at least a ton of the noodles. If I had to guess, the merchantman was transporting ramen (maybe in bulk), and the packaging was breached. Now, we were covered in the stuff, along with a bunch of white powder I assumed was the spices that went with it.

"Um... you can drop the act, drama queen," I said as the goddess continued to wail as the sacred food of college students overwhelmed her.

"WHAT IS THIS?! IT LOOKS LIKE THE AFTERMATH OF A JELLYFISH MASSACRE!!" she shrieked, waving her discus about and successfully cutting the noodles into more pieces, further covering and terrifying the goddess.

"It's... it's ramen. Y'know, food? The ambrosia of college students everywhere, apparently, along with their nectar being Starbucks iced lattes?"

"AAAAAAAGH!! THERE'S SO MUCH OF IT!!"

"Well... that's kinda the consequence of attacking a merchantman carrying it," I replied with a shrug. "Plus, thanks to your little storm, you've successfully polluted this area with ramen, spice, oil, plastic, and other debris... Father's gonna love this."

"AAAAAAAGH!! MAKE IT STOOOOOOP!!"

I suddenly remembered the time I misinterpreted Annabeth, thinking her fatal flaw was hummus. Why? Because, as it seemed, Kymopoleia's fatal flaw was ramen... go figure.

"Father, God, anyone else listening... have mercy on my soul," I muttered as my drama queen of a half-sister continued to scream as she tried to get the ramen and spice off—which had successfully stuck to her hair, skin, dress, and even appeared to go down her dress. Forgive my salaciousness, but some of those noodles were getting more action than I had in a long time.

"What in Olympus is this?!" a new female voice suddenly bellowed.

Speaking of...

"What in Tartarus happened here?!" a male voice added. A quick turn of the head revealed even more members of my godly family: Triton, my half-brother, and Salacia, my... stepmother? "Kymopoleia! What are you doing surrounded by that mortal garbage?"

"IT WON'T COME OFF!!" the goddess wailed as she continued to thrash in the ramen.

"Would you mind letting me go?" I loudly asked. "Seriously, if it's that bad, I'll help you get rid of the damn stuff."

"Who are y—PERSEUS JACKSON?!" Triton exclaimed when he saw my face wiggle out of the ramen that fell on top of me.

"In the flesh. Greetings, Lady Salacia."

"Humph, you appear to have gained some discipline at least," the Queen of the Sea replied with a scowl.

"WHY CAN'T YOU JUST DIE?!" Triton exclaimed, receiving a stern look from his mother—a silent command eliciting... well, silence.

"For the last time, I don't want the throne, man! 'Specially if I have to hear your bitch-ass complain for all eternity!" I groaned, ceasing whatever tactfulness I had.

"You will watch the way you speak to my son, Perseus," Salacia coolly replied before turning towards Kymopoleia. "As for you, my daughter, Briareus and Oeolyca personally requested our help in locating you and asking you to come home more often. I know you care not for your husband, but that is no excuse to not take care of your offspring."

"Why should I, Mother?" Kymopoleia hissed, temporarily forgetting about her ramen phobia. "Why must I listen to you? You and Father cast me aside for being true to my nature! You hold no moral authority, you damned woman!"

"Listen here, you little—" Triton began before his mother held up a hand to silence him.

"I will admit... our actions were less than satisfactory," Salacia replied softly, with a tone of regret. "Even your father admits as much, though he will only admit it to me in private. Much like how I admitted my former hate for my husband's... extramarital offspring, shall we say."

I had to admit, detached as her words were, they weren't exactly inaccurate. But as semi-interesting as this family drama was, I still had men topside and in trouble... though interrupting this moment would probably have grave consequences resulting in my inability to further assist my guys. Shutting down my impatience to the best of my ability, I waited, letting the immortals continue their dialogue, which honestly sounded like a dramatic proclamation of sorts, or a script in a screenplay.

"And yes, it was wrong to push you away for obeying your nature... but that is no excuse for you to shirk your duties: properly applying your powers and caring for your daughter. You may hold no love for your husband, but your daughter was innocent of all that. Neptune may have failed in several ways as a husband, but he at least put in an effort as a father... and is actually improving as a husband too, courtesy of that monotheistic mortal... 'Paul Blofis,' something or the other. More recently, I've let go of my own hate for those such as Perseus. And, frankly, your despisement of Briareus is moronic, considering that he's probably a better husband than the Big Three put together."

"She's got you there, sister," Triton muttered before shutting up at the sight of his mother's annoyed look.

"But in all seriousness, do remember to come home. You cannot turn your back on family, daughter."

"... fine, I shall consider your request, Mother," Kymopoleia huffed, seemingly having forgotten about the ramen covering her. Salacia, for one of the only times I could recall, smiled at her daughter's words.

"Um... forgive my intrusion on such a private moment, but can I be released now?" I said from my pile of ramen, making the Queen of the Sea turn towards me.

"Oh, yes. Now, Kymopoleia, you've caused quite a bit of damage, including this... what are these, jellyfish tendrils?" Salacia mused.

"That's ramen, ma'am. It's food."

"It looks like rubbish."

"I mean... depends on who you ask."

"Excuse me, my Queen, my Prince," a dolphin said as he suddenly swam into the situation. "I do hope I'm not interrupting, but Lord Neptune has a message regarding—oh, Prince Perseus?"

"Yeah. Delphinus, right? One of Father's top officers?" I asked, recalling old memories.

"Correct, my Prince. How is your service with the mortal military going? Forgive me, but you don't look very much like a seal—"

"Blast it all, Delphinus!" a shark bellowed as he swam in from the west. "I told you to meet me in the Red Sea, not the Yellow Sea, you mammalian buffoon!"

"Oh, to Tartarus with you, fish bastard!" Delphinus shot back. "Can't you see I'm in the middle of something?"

"You're like a bloody goldfish, you air-breathing idiot! You don't remember a single word I tell you!"

"No, I just choose to ignore your ramblings, you senile old fart!"

"Gentlemen," Salacia sighed, making the two creatures go silent and face her. "How in Nereus's name do you two work together so well in wartime, but bicker so much in peacetime?"

"Apologies, my Queen," the shark replied. "I cannot prevent Delphinus from being an ignoramus when combat is not a concern."

"You see here—"

"Enough," Salacia commanded, cutting off Delphinus's outraged words. "Perseus, I don't believe you met Portunus, god of sharks and another of Neptune's top officers. Portunus, this is my... stepson, Perseus Blofis Jackson, sailor and son of Paul and Sally Blofis."

"Oh, yes! I've heard much about you, my Prince!" Portunus said, sounding excited. "Yes, my children told me about the time they encountered you off the coast of the American province... California, was it? Training to be a United States Navy SEAL, one of the greatest classes of modern mortal warriors!"

"You... you know about the SEALs?" I asked, surprised.

"Indeed! I, my family and friends, and many others have witnessed the mortal men torturing themselves to become better warriors. We've seen the mortals advance into the seas, skies, and belly of the earth—a truly impressive species! Flawed, but impressive nonetheless!"

"That's high praise, sir."

"But how good can that training be? He can't even turn into a seal!" Delphinus exclaimed, making Portunus groan, Triton facepalm, Salacia roll her eyes, and Kymopoleia look on in confusion.

"You imbecile! It's not the animal, it's an acronym! The letters stand for 'SEa, Air, and Land,' with 'S' and 'E' being taken from 'sea!' Why are you so stupid, Delphinus?!" the shark god moaned.

"You wish to speak of stupidity? Would you like me to remind you of the incident in Constantinople?"

"We... we don't talk about the incident in Constantinople."

"What was the incident in Constantinople?" I interjected, curious.

"Well, the incident in Constantinople—" Delphinus began.

"I SAID WE DON'T TALK ABOUT THE INCIDENT IN CONSTANTINOPLE!" Portunus raged.

"WILL YOU FOOLS ALL SHUT UP AND GET ME OUT OF THIS?!" Kymopoleia shrieked, apparently finally remembering her ramen phobia. "I CAN'T GET IT OFF!"

"Calm down, Kymopoleia," Salacia said as she looked up and around us, assessing the situation.

"Excuse me, if I may suggest... channel that stuff back up to the surface. It'll be easier to dispatch a cleaning crew to mop up," I advised, with the Nereid nodding in reply. "Even better if it's all concentrated in one spot, with local wildlife warned to give it a wide, wide berth."

"Hm. Should be simple enough."

"Oh, word of warning: Kymopoleia's kinda freakin' out about the ramen shoving its way on her... and down her dress. So maybe don't go too strong on the current and accidentally make her flash us? And can I be let out of these restraints now, please?"

"Oh yes, that's easy," the Queen of the Sea replied, lazily waving her hand and freeing me from Kymopoleia's bondage. "Perseus, be a dear and help your brother with keeping this... 'ramen' concentrated on the surface."

"I'm sorry, what?" Triton and I asked at the same time.

"Boys..."

"Yes'm," I muttered, drawing upon my relatively limited hydrokinetic abilities, trying to keep the upwards-flowing debris concentrating while turning towards Delphinus and Portunus. "Er, could y'all take care of the 'warning wildlife' part?"

"Easy enough!" the dolphin declared with so much confidence that—had he had arms—I could imagine him thumping his chest.

"The only easy day may have been yesterday, but this is even easier," the shark snarked before bowing towards me. "You can count on us, my Prince... assuming this mammalian simpleton can actually remember your orders."

The two resumed their bickering as they swam off, while Triton joined me at my side, glowering all the while.

"You're not my brother," he hissed, quietly enough that Salacia wouldn't hear.

"Don't worry, I've got enough family as is," I muttered, refraining from breaking focus. "Besides... Dad may be former Army, but he could beat your ass no problem. Please shut up or I'll sic 'im on you."

Triton growled, but remained silent as he helped me organize the debris, making it as convenient as possible while maintaining some element of realism—at least, in the eyes of the mortals. I had to say, when his mouth wasn't open, Triton actually seemed like a decent dude. And Salacia? Not all that bad either. Father had screwed up plenty, but I'm glad she at least didn't feel like gutting me or feeding me to Portunus.

I remembered the talk I had with Mercury post-Battle of Manhattan. Younger, optimistic me believed that gods had the capacity to change. Oddly enough, older, more jaded me still held onto that belief, albeit to a lesser degree. Father was on better terms with Salacia and Pluto, after all... albeit primarily due to Dad's advice.

Finally, the scene was all set topside, with the last of the ramen floating back to the surface. I shook my head as I breathed deeply, trying to get some energy back—especially having never used my hydrokinetic powers to such a great extent in several years. In a level of dramaticity to surpass Jupiter, Kymopoleia collapsed on top of me, with Triton sidestep—er, swimming—to avoid his larger sister.

I groaned as I caught her on some stupid instinct, with the goddess's hyperventilation ceasing as her eyes locked on mine, her smile returning.

"My hero," she purred flirtatiously, reminding me of that chick in that place at that time. If that weren't enough, she was now tracing my face with her hand, making me freeze. "My, my, brother dear... you have gotten strong, haven't y—"

"Oh hell no!" I exclaimed, quickly dropping and shoving her away. "I know we're Romans—or Greeks, whatever—but come on, even that's too incenstuous for me!"

Surprisingly, not only did Triton crack a grin, he snorted in amusement, while Salacia shook her head in exasperation.

"Perseus... you do realize that our Uncle Jupiter and Aunt Juno are siblings right?" my half-brother snickered.

"Triton, stop talking," Salacia muttered, her face adopting a light golden hue as she appeared to... blush, I supposed, with Triton only belting out raucous laughter in reply. "Sweet Atlantis... Triton, get Perseus up to his friends. I'll handle Kymopoleia and your father's lieutenants."

"Yes, Mother. Oh, and Perseus?"

"Yeah?" I asked as I secured my gear.

"That powder that we sent back up... I'm not sure what it was, but it wasn't spice. You would do well to examine it."

"What are you talking abo—AAAAAAAAAAAAARGHHHHH!" I yelled as a powerful torrent launched me towards the surface.

"See you around, little brother!" Triton taunted as I shot up towards the surface, passing several shocked fish. The torrent was strong enough that it actually pushed me out of the water, yeeting my flailing ass twenty feet in the air, and caused me to belly-flop a few yards behind a shivering Kyung as he treaded water, shouting my name.

"Wha—Jackson!" he croaked as he maneuvered himself around and I spit out some seawater. "Where the shit you been?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you, man," I muttered as I looked around, noticing that the storm had all but passed. In the distance, I could make out two Black Hawks coming our way. "But forget that crap! Here's our extract!"

Right before the JCET ended and we departed from Korea, we learned that the "spice" that came with the ramen was not spice, but heroin—something which probably explained why Kymopoleia was acting so flirtatious towards me, given that it didn't seem like her nature.

That, or she was secretly just an incestuous horny bitch like every goddess (except for Vesta). But hey, the gods are incestuous horny bastards, so...

Anyways, all eighteen crewmen were arrested for drug-running, but despite the incident never reaching the news, it nearly escalated into an international incident. Not only was China the ship's origin, but all eighteen men were apparently linked to the CCP in some manner, with two being further linked to the Uyghur genocide in Xinjiang.

Of course, you can probably see why it never made the mainstream media. Hell, the story only showed up on major news outlets in 2025. But still, a relatively lighthearted chain of events, especially considering the shitshow brewing regarding the return of American forces to Afghanistan...

"Whoa..." Hazel muttered as I concluded the story. "That's... disturbing."

"What, us accidentally busting drug-runners?"

"No, the fact that your half-sister... eugh!" Frank exclaimed, a disgusted look on her face.

"I can't believe that's what you're fixating on," I grumbled with a roll of my eyes.

"That aside... that's actually pretty hilarious. Who would've thought ramen would make the goddess of violent seas shit her panties?" Reyna giggled—yes, giggled... I think Leo may have MK-ULTRA'd her or something, because she's quite different from the praetor I met all those years ago.

"Go figure, Ramirez... just like how aiming down your sights is critical, and how you shouldn't be firing from the hip and spraying bullets all over the range—"

"I know, I know... 'you don't end up hitting a damn thing and it makes you look like an ass.' You said that a lot over the past week... so did Kyung and Nai, but in broken English and what sounded like a bit of Korean mixed in."

"Well, I don't see Perce's situation being too terrible!" Leo said brightly, making us frown at him. "I'm just saying... Salacia's his stepmother, right?"

"Well, yeah..." I replied slowly.

"And seein' that Crazy-Bitch is her n' Neptune's daughter, so it's not that bad if they're step—"

"SHUT UP, LEO!" Reyna and I hurriedly bellowed, the former smacking her boyfriend's arm with a glare as other patrons glanced our way, with Frank and Hazel looking on in confusion.

"Hey, I'm just saying... plus, if we really wanna get crazy, even Salacia could technically—"

"LEO!"

I'm a terrible person, I know. I heard the joke once and accidentally looked it up. I hate the Urban Dictionary and the Internet for this reason. But more than anything, I hate myself for thinking it was a good idea to look it up. Good thing there are ways to clear your browser history.

After a long, long time, yet another chapter has been released! Nothing major, just a bit of humor. I've been having some bad days, so I wanted to do something lighthearted.

As everyone knows, Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II passed away earlier this month. I'm no monarchist—nor am I even British for that matter—but I still held a level of respect for her as a lady and leader, as well as her devotion to duty. She trained and worked as a driver and mechanic in the British Army's Auxiliary Territorial Service during World War II, becoming a junior commander (female equivalent to a captain). As a queen, she swore herself to a life of service, reigning for seventy years.

And if nothing else, she had class and honor unmatched by the rest of the Royal Family (to my untrained, non-monarchist, non-tabloid-reading eyes, that is). In one particularly notable circumstance, Queen Elizabeth II broke a 600-year tradition, ordering the Coldstream Guards to play "The Star-Spangled Banner" two days after 9/11, one of the United States' darkest times, honoring the attack's victims. I know little about the Royals... but for such support, I respect her.

Rest in peace, Junior Commander. God save the Queen.

- ADF-2