It is 1918, and London is gathering in its dead. For undertaker Henry Speake, laying to rest the bodies of those sent home from the Front has become a familiar duty. But what he is seeing now, as influenza claims its victims, is something different.
Look, I didn't want to be a half-blood. I never asked to be the son of a Greek god. I was just a normal kid, going to school, playing basketball, skateboarding. The usual. Until I accidentally vaporized my maths teacher. That's when things started really going wrong. Now I spend my time fighting with swords, battling monsters with my friends and generally trying to stay alive. This is the one where Zeus, God of the Sky...