Eight years had passed since I first arrived at Camp Half-Blood, and in that time, I had mastered nearly every ability my mother had given me.
Wisdom. Strategy. Combat skills. Perception beyond mortal limits. Every godly gift I could refine, I refined. The years of training, planning, and observation had honed me into a perfect instrument of power—both divine and mortal.
The next step was inevitable. The gods were sending us into the world to take positions of influence for the coming war. Roosevelt and I were to become more than demigods hiding in training grounds. We were to shape human events, subtly guiding history toward our objectives.
I gathered my allies from Camp Half-Blood—the strongest and most useful children of the gods, those whose skills could tip mortal affairs in our favor. A daughter of Aphrodite skilled in Charm Speak, some children of Athena who had a natural grasp of strategy, and others whose unique abilities would allow us to manipulate the world without raising suspicion.
Crossing into the mortal realm was simple for someone like me. Snakes scouted ahead, ensuring our travels remained unnoticed. By the time we arrived in America, I already had the framework of influence in place, thanks to my father and the network he had been cultivating for nearly a decade.
Politics, for most humans, was slow, tedious, and frustrating. For me, it was… almost effortless.
Genjutsu came in handy. Subtle manipulations of perception, nudges toward decisions I wanted made. The daughter of Aphrodite enhanced the effect. A few whispered words, a glance, and powerful figures in government began aligning themselves without understanding why.
The presidency itself remained far out of reach for now. Supernatural influence could not entirely replace the long, meticulous process of human elections. But high-level positions in the Senate? Securing funding and influence? Those were trivial.
Over the years, our faction grew quietly but steadily. Every senator, every judge, every political figure we needed fell into place like pieces on a board. With Roosevelt positioned as a rising political star, guided by my advice, our influence became both visible and subtle.
I watched the unfolding of mortal politics the way I had watched shinobi battles before—careful observation, precise timing, exploitation of weaknesses.
By the time the 1930s arrived, Roosevelt was no longer merely a promising politician; he was the backbone of a faction loyal to our vision, prepared to act decisively when the war began.
And me? I remained the strategist in the shadows, the whisper behind the curtain, the invisible hand that shaped both demigod and human destinies.
This war, both divine and mortal, would not take us by surprise.
Because we had already won half of it before the first battle even began.