A God Invites Us to Dinner
The man's footsteps were the only thing that could be heard as he approached the entrance, echoing through the deathly silence that hung over the place.
The moment he stepped inside, pushing the door open without hesitation, every single diner suddenly stood up as if hypnotized.
But the biker made a dismissive gesture with his hand, and they all sat back down, resuming their conversations like nothing had happened.
And the waitress standing in front of the group blinked, as if someone had hit rewind, repeating the exact same words she had said when she first approached them.
"Do you even have money to pay?" she asked, with the same expression, the same slight smirk on her face; something that didn't go unnoticed by the four of them sitting there.
Before any of them could answer, the biker walked straight to their table and said, "Just put it on my tab," as he sat down in the booth that was clearly too small for him, forcing Grover and Annabeth to press themselves against the window. That left Grover stuck in the middle, squeezed so tightly it looked like he could barely breathe.
He glanced at Percy and Harry for a moment, like he was about to say something, but before he could, he lifted his gaze toward the waitress, a trace of irritation slipping into his tone. "Why are you still here?" he asked.
The girl froze at his words, like she had suddenly turned into a puppet. Then she turned around stiffly and walked straight into the kitchen.
The man shifted his attention back to them, mostly to Percy. Both of them stared at the man's red glasses, which completely hid his eyes.
But for some reason, Percy started to feel something rising inside him. Anger. Resentment. A wild, uncontrollable urge to pick a fight with anyone nearby or punch a wall until it shattered.
Harry, sitting right next to him, felt it too. Or at least something similar. A deep, instinctive hatred toward the man, like he had suddenly become the person Harry despised the most in the world: Snape. But he shook his head, forcing the feeling away.
Even so, he could still feel the anger coming off his brother beside him, who seemed far more affected; probably because the man was looking directly at him.
The man gave Percy a fake smile before speaking again.
"So, you're the old seaweed's kid, huh?" he said, pulling a massive hunting knife from his waist like it was bothering him just being sheathed. Then he casually dragged the blade along his chin, as if shaving off imaginary stubble. A pretty disgusting thing to do at a table meant for eating.
"And why do you care?" Percy shot back, his tone far from friendly, a clear edge of challenge in his voice.
Annabeth instantly went pale and tried to stop him. "Percy, he's—"
But before she could finish, the man raised his hand, cutting her off like it didn't matter.
"I don't mind a little attitude… as long as you know who's in charge," the biker said, placing his hand on the table while still holding the knife. When the handle hit the surface, it let out a loud, heavy thud. No one else reacted.
"Oh yeah? I'd like to see how big you are without that knife," Percy fired back immediately, even more defiant now.
The biker smirked, opening his hand lazily and letting the knife drop onto the table with another heavy slam, like it weighed way more than it should.
"Still the same size," Harry muttered before he could stop himself, grabbing Percy's shoulder to keep him from doing something stupid; like starting a fight with someone who was clearly way out of their league.
"Don't you know who I am, cousin?" the man said, his grin shifting into something smug; proud, or maybe just annoyed.
Seeing that expression, Percy suddenly realized it looked way too familiar. Just like some of the more obnoxious guys back at camp; specifically the ones from Cabin Five.
Percy narrowed his eyes.
"You're Clarisse's father. Ares, the god of war," he said.
Ares smiled and, for a brief moment, took off his glasses. Where his eyes should have been, there were no eyeballs. No… not exactly. The sockets weren't empty. They were filled with something else. Pure fire, like miniature nuclear explosions burning inside his skull.
"Not as stupid as I thought. You're right. I heard you beat Clarisse easily. Broke her spear too," Ares said, giving him a sideways glance as he put his glasses back on.
"She had it coming," Percy replied calmly.
"I bet she did. And I don't really care. I don't get involved in my kids' fights," he said, leaning back in his seat; which only made Grover even more squished, forcing out a small squeak that Ares completely ignored. "I knew you'd pass through here. And I've got a proposition for you."
At that moment, the waitress returned, carrying a tray loaded with food; cheeseburgers, fries, onion rings, and chocolate milkshakes.
Ares casually pulled out a gold coin; a drachma; and handed it to her. The woman blinked, snapping out of her trance for a moment as she took it, frowning in confusion. "But these aren't—"
Before she could finish, Ares picked up the knife again and started cleaning under his nails with it.
The waitress swallowed hard at the sight of the blade and quickly turned away, not saying another word.
"That's pretty low. A gentleman doesn't use threats to get what he wants," Percy said, frowning slightly, clear disapproval in his voice.
Ares let out an amused laugh.
"You're joking, right? Things like that shouldn't even exist anymore. I've got a whole museum full of those losers. I made sure the few that were left became… well, that's not important right now," Ares said, cutting himself off with a smirk. "Like I said, I've got a proposition. I need you to do me a favor."
"And what kind of favor would a god need from a kid?" Percy shot back, sarcasm clear in his voice.
"Something a god doesn't have time for. After all, what do you think you're here for?" Ares replied mockingly. "It's nothing big. I left my shield in an abandoned water park here in the city. I had a date with my girlfriend, but we got interrupted. In the middle of it, I left it behind. So just go get it and bring it back."
"Then why don't you go yourself if it's so simple?" Percy asked again.
That made the empty sockets behind Ares' glasses seem to glow brighter, a faint smell of burning metal drifting through the air.
"Turning you into a squirrel and running you over with my bike is simple too. Same answer for both. I just don't feel like it right now," he said, his tone dripping with mockery. "A god is giving you a chance to prove what you're made of. Or what, are you just a coward? Some idiot going around calling himself a knight, only to run back to daddy for protection?"
Percy's anger spiked instantly. It looked like he was barely holding himself back from jumping across the table and punching Ares in the face. Even Harry looked genuinely pissed at the way the war god was talking to his brother, his hand already gripping his wand under his clothes, knuckles going white.
But that was exactly what Ares wanted, and neither of them was going to give him the satisfaction.
"We're not interested," Percy said flatly. "We already have a quest."
"I know your quest, kid. When that thing was stolen, Zeus sent the best to find it. Apollo, Athena, Artemis… and me, of course. And if even I haven't felt so much as a trace of that weapon nearby…" he licked his lips, like the thought of the Master Bolt made him hungry, "…what makes you think you, a stupid little kid, and your little friends stand a chance?"
His gaze flicked toward Harry, Annabeth, and Grover with open disdain.
"Still, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. Just because your father and I go way back. I'm the one who planted the idea about old dead-breath in the first place," he added, folding his arms calmly.
"You told him Hades stole the Master Bolt?" Percy asked, frowning.
"Of course. Blaming someone to start a war is the oldest trick in the book. If anything, you should be thanking me for your quest," Ares said smugly.
"Thanks," Percy muttered immediately, pure sarcasm.
"That's because I'm a generous god. Do this for me, and I'll give you a hand with yours. Make your trip nice and easy," Ares said with a grin.
"We'll manage on our own. Thanks," Percy replied without hesitation.
That only made Ares laugh harder. "Yeah? With no money, no transport, and no idea what you're up against?" he mocked.
But as he said that, Harry kept staring at him, like he was piecing something together, his brow slightly furrowed.
"Help me, and you walk out of here," Ares repeated.
Percy looked ready to refuse again, but Harry stopped him with a glance before speaking himself.
He didn't answer right away.
His eyes stayed locked on Ares, like he was weighing something.
"Fine. We accept. Where'd you leave your shield?" Harry asked.
Percy glanced at him for a second, but with the trust he had in his brother, he stayed quiet. If Harry agreed, then he had a reason.
Ares hummed, amused. "Now that's a smart kid. You're one of that witch's descendants, right? Zeus is always paranoid about your kind. But people who go around waving sticks don't seem like much to worry about to me," he said dismissively.
Harry frowned, but didn't rise to it.
"The water park's about a mile west. Hard to miss a place that big. Look for the attraction called the Tunnel of Love," Ares continued.
"What interrupted your date? Something scare you?" Percy asked, a hint of mockery slipping into his voice.
For a moment, the fire in Ares' eye sockets flared, but that fake smile returned just as quickly.
"You're lucky you ran into me, kid. The other Olympians aren't nearly as patient with bad manners. Though…" he added, glancing briefly at Annabeth, "I'm sure you've already had a taste of that on your way here."
"I'll be waiting to hear back. Don't disappoint me. I don't like failure," Ares said, his final words hanging in the air.
For a moment, the atmosphere grew heavy.
And then, like the four of them had just blinked after drifting off for a split second, Ares was gone.
Like he had never been there at all.
Even the motorcycle outside had disappeared.
But judging by the looks they all shared, it definitely hadn't been a dream. Ares had just handed them a quest.
Percy turned to Harry, waiting for an explanation as to why he had agreed to such a pointless job for someone as insufferable as that god.