The dawn broke over the European plains, a pale light washing over the hills and forests where the first real battle of America's campaign would take place.
I stood beside Roosevelt in the command tent, studying the maps with careful precision. The morning air smelled faintly of smoke from distant skirmishes, though the real fighting had not yet begun. Soldiers and demigods alike waited for the signal, unaware of the invisible threads pulling the battle into place.
Hitler's forces were well-positioned. Armored divisions, artillery, and foot soldiers formed a solid line. His generals had anticipated a frontal assault, expecting Roosevelt to lead the charge head-on. Perfect.
I traced my finger along the northern forest edge.
"Phase one," I murmured, "demigods of Hermes and Aphrodite will infiltrate here. They'll disrupt supply lines, intercept communications, and spread misinformation. By the time the battle officially begins, the enemy will already be reacting to phantom threats."
Roosevelt nodded, his hand tight on the hilt of his ceremonial sword. "And the flank?"
I smiled faintly. "That's where the real strike occurs. Children of Ares will lead a simulated frontal assault—aggressive enough to draw attention but not enough to risk serious casualties. Meanwhile, our spearhead moves quietly through the northern forest."
I had chosen this ground carefully. Rolling hills and sparse woods created natural choke points. The terrain would favor mobility over brute force—perfect for demigods trained in agility, precision, and unconventional warfare.
The signal came. Trumpets, whistles, and the marching of boots echoed across the plains.
From the trees, small shadows moved. Hermes and Aphrodite's children slipped silently past enemy lines, invisible to human eyes. They hacked messages, sabotaged equipment, and whispered rumors that the German officers couldn't explain. Morale began to falter even before the main engagement.
And then the spearhead advanced.
I summoned a subtle aura around them, an unseen enhancement of speed and perception. They moved like shadows, cutting through the underbrush, bypassing guards, and striking with precision. Every movement had been calculated. Every strike predicted.
On the open field, the Ares-led diversion began. Soldiers saw the demigods charging, screaming, and unleashing the power of their divine heritage. It was enough to fixate attention, but not enough to break formation. Hitler's generals ordered reinforcements toward the apparent main threat. Exactly as expected.
I watched the battlefield like a master of chess.
"Phase three," I whispered. "The northern strike collapses into the center. Their command is isolated. Communications severed. By the time they realize what's happening, the battle is over."
A small smile crept across Roosevelt's face. "You really do think of everything."
I shrugged slightly. "It's what Athena would expect of her child."
Then I focused.
The northern flank moved with terrifying efficiency. Demigods scaled hills, cut down artillery, and neutralized officers with precision strikes. The humans with them followed instinctively, guided by subtle whispers and cues from our supernatural allies.
From the diversion on the open field, chaos began to spread. Soldiers misread signals, orders got confused, and morale cracked.
Hitler himself had no idea his forces were being dismantled from the shadows. He had expected a frontal fight. He had not expected a war fought invisibly, with invisible hands guiding the pieces.
By mid-afternoon, the battlefield had shifted completely. The northern strike had reached the command lines. Hitler's generals were either captured or incapacitated. Communication with the rear was cut off. Panic rippled through the ranks.
I allowed myself a small smirk.
"Phase four," I murmured.
Ares and Hermes children, now behind enemy lines, began rounding up soldiers and securing strategic positions. Aphrodite's children subtly influenced officers into surrendering without realizing why. Every demigod moved exactly as trained, their abilities magnified by my foresight.
Roosevelt's forces advanced with confidence, following the exact path I had planned. Every push, every defensive line, every counterattack had been predicted. Every human and demigod knew their role without ever questioning it.
And in the middle of it all, I remained calm, watching, guiding, whispering commands only the sharpest minds could perceive.
Hitler's strategy had been brilliant, but brilliance alone could not outmatch centuries of experience, divine gifts, and preparation on my level.
By nightfall, the battlefield was ours.
The enemy lay disorganized, beaten, and in retreat. American forces, guided by demigods and the invisible hand of my planning, had won a decisive victory on the first real day of war.
I allowed myself a deep breath.
Roosevelt turned to me, his face alight with excitement. "This… this is incredible. You've turned the entire battlefield into your own game."
I nodded. "Wars are games of strategy. The pieces are soldiers, officers, and gods. And the winner is the one who anticipates the moves before they're made."
He smiled. "Then I guess we've just impressed Zeus."
"And Athena," I added quietly.
The battlefield was ours for now.
But the war was far from over.
And I intended to be several steps ahead—always.