The Wild Berserkers Descendant: Son Of Power

Ready To Rip A Certain God's Head Off

The next afternoon, June 14, seven days before the solstice, our train rolled into Denver. We hadn't eaten since the night before in the dining car, somewhere in Kansas. We hadn't taken a shower since Half-Blood Hill, and I was sure that was obvious.

We found a do-it-yourself car wash so Annabeth could contact Chiron using a drachma through Iris-Message, a magical form of communication in which Iris, the goddess of rainbows and messenger of the gods would pass the message. Luke answered and we told him everything. He told us about The mess that was going on at Camp Half-Blood. Word got out about the standoff between Zeus and Poseidon so people are taking sides. Aphrodite, Ares, and Apollo are backing Poseidon and Athena is backing Zeus. Luke said is was probably the same scumbag who let the hellhound in to camp.  Me, Annabeth, and Grover went to go scan for any places to eat while Percy finished the call.
However, After hearing my stomach growl, Luke cut the call so we could go eat. However, there was no place for us to go summon some food without causing suspicion so we went to a local diner.

We were sitting at a booth in a gleaming chrome diner. All around us, families were eating burgers and drinking malts and sodas. I fiddle with my ring as we waited for the waitress

Finally the waitress came over. She raised her eyebrow skeptically. "Well?"
Percy said, "We, um, want to order dinner."

"You kids have money to pay for it?"

Before anyone could come up with a sob story, a rumble shook the whole building caused by a motorcycle the size of a baby elephant pulling up to the curb. When I saw the motorcycle, my blood ran cold. The seat looked like leather, but I knew what it was: Caucasian human skin. It had Shotgun holsters on either side with shotguns in them.

Odd enough, all conversation in the diner stopped. However, my gut was telling me to fight. Ares was here. I feel the same vibe from him I do from Clarisse, just a whole lot older and more powerful.

He was dressed in a red muscle shirt and black jeans and a black leather duster, with a hunting knife strapped to his thigh. He wore red wraparound shades, His face handsome but brutal due to all the scars on it

I felt a soft buzz in my eyes and everyone went back to talking. The waitress blinked, as if somebody had just pressed the rewind button on her brain. She asked us again, "You kids have money to pay for it?"

The biker stared at me for a bit, then said, "It's on me." He slid into our booth, which was way too small for him, and crowded Annabeth against the window.

He looked up at the waitress, who was gaping at him, and said, "Are you still here?"

He pointed at her, and she stiffened. She turned as if she'd been spun around, then marched back toward the kitchen.

Ares looked at Percy and Me. Percy looked ready to commit arson. Whatever effect this guy was having on people, it doesn't work on me. But his treatment of other people really pisses me off. "What are you doing here?" I said,

Annabeth's eyes flashed me a warning. "Zari, this is—"

"Oh we know, Blonde Brainiac. I recognized that ugly-ass vicious smirk anywhere." said Percy. Grover was scared shitless, "Percy, this isn't the time for sassy. Ple-?!"

"S'okay, little Markor," he said. "I've come to terms with the effect my divine aura has on people. As long as he stays in what I would consider toleratable sass."

But he looked at me and said, "But for some reason, it doesn't work on you. Odd"
"I'm the chosen one, I guess," I said, using a mock-ominous voice.

"I like this one," Ares grinned and took off his shades. Where his eyes should've been, there was only fire, empty sockets glowing with miniature nuclear explosions.
Looking at Percy, he said "So little cousin, I heard you broke Clarisse's spear."