SANITY; heroes of olympus

02.3

[act two; chapter three     -     truths]

It was complete, total mayhem after that.

Zara, Frank, Percy, and Hazel waded through the enemy, ploughing down anyone who stood in their way. The First and Second Cohorts—pride of Camp Jupiter, a well-oiled, highly disciplined war machine—fell apart under the assault and the sheer novelty of being on the losing side.

Personally, Zara was really enjoying it. Probably more than she should.

Part of their problem was Percy. He fought like a demon, whirling through the defenders' ranks in a completely unorthodox style, rolling under their feet, slashing with his sword instead of stabbing like a Roman would, whacking campers with the flat of his blade, and generally causing mass panic. Octavian screamed in a shrill voice—maybe ordering the First Cohort to stand their ground, maybe trying to sing soprano—but Percy put a stop to it. He somersaulted over a line of shields and slammed the butt of his sword into Octavian's helmet. The centurion collapsed like a sock puppet.

Frank shot arrows until his quiver was empty, using blunt-tipped missiles that wouldn't kill but left some nasty bruises. He broke his pilum over a defender's head, then reluctantly drew his gladius.

Meanwhile, Hazel climbed onto Hannibal's back. She charged toward the centre of the fort, grinning down at her friends. "Let's go, slowpokes!"

It was going better than Zara had anticipated, honestly. She had expected for them to run into the fight and lose like they have been for quite some time, except they were doing...good.

They ran to the centre of the base. The inner keep was virtually unguarded. Obviously the defenders never dreamed an assault would get this far. Hannibal busted down the huge doors. Inside, the First and Second Cohort standard-bearers were sitting around a table playing Mythomagic with cards and figurines. The cohort's emblems were propped carelessly against one wall.