From the moment Perseus Riddle stumbled into Camp Jupiter with little to no memory of his past, the son of Neptune (or Poseidon he should now say) had a powerful aura about him that unsettled Frank deep to his core.

The teen had killed two gorgons without even the use of his blade, had controlled the Little Tiber like it was child's play and all while carrying Lady Juno.

Even when he was dirty and tired, with nothing but the clothes on his back and a magically reappearing sword in his pocket, he radiated a quiet strength and ruthless cunning that drew you in. Frank knew before he even open his mouth that he would be the type of person that people would easily put their trust into, that given the opportunity he'd be the type of person that could inspire such loyalty to himself that one would simply trust and believe whatever was being said.

Frank knew that he would be a leader.

Many were instantly on guard and suspicious of Perseus, not surprising considering his heritage and his name. A graecus, they'd sneer. The general air of distrust wasn't helped by the dark tattoo on his arm where the SPQR would've been on a camper, something that Octavian immediately used against the son of Neptune because surely that must be a sign that he'll never become a true Roman. The sight of the skull crowned with a a wreath of laurels and the snake protruding from its mouth left a chilling feeling for all who caught a glimpse of it...

But when the queen of the gods herself came to announce the arrival of the boy, well, what were they going to do? Refuse him?

So Perseus was sent to the fifth cohort and Frank was ordered to show the older boy around. He was surprised at how quickly his own shy demeanour changed and how quickly they became friends. It was just so easy, talking to Percy. It was easy how instantly familiar things were between them. It was something in the way the sea green eyed boy put people effortlessly at ease, how he responded to campers with a chip on their shoulders about a son of Neptune being allowed amongst them with a wit that can flip a tense situation on its head and now suddenly everybody is on his side and laughing at the offender.

Both Hazel and Frank felt a kinship towards the boy. There was an instant connection as they were the three outsiders, the three who have yet to truly prove their worth within the cohort. Hazel in particular understood what it was like to be the offspring of a feared god. However, Romans were the shrewd type, everything was about order, ambition and discipline. Even when people distrusted him, something in Riddle just resonated so easily with those values that even if he was an outsider, there was no denying that he had something in him that was just so inexplicably Roman that people can't help but respect him.

It was incredible, the way he had seamlessly adapted to camp life even with no memories of his past. For gods sake, he appeared out of nowhere and a short time later becomes praetor? When it took others years to even get anywhere near to that position? It was unthinkable. It showed a great ability for command and a mastery over power nearly unmatched.

After all, what was it that Lupa said? Aut vincere aut mori. Conquer or Die.

Frank has seen how charming smiles and sparkling eyes turn to sharp grins and a calculating gaze, he'd seen how quickly the British gentlemanly facade can melt away to one that was stony and unforgiving. Perseus Riddle was like a chameleon who instinctively changes its colours, or perhaps a snake always lying in wait.

Even though the son of Mars was the one with shapeshifting abilities, he knew he was not the only shapeshifter amongst the seven.