THADDEUS POV
It took far longer than expected for Percy to wake up. I'd been told his recovery was slower because he wasn't used to this kind of fatigue—it wasn't just physical, but something deeper, magical even. Still, the reassurance that he was alive and healing was enough to calm some of the storm in my mind. He wasn't... well, dead dead. Small mercies, I guess.
At the moment, Percy lay stretched out on a hospital bed, his breathing steady but weak. Nearby stood Annabeth—a girl with piercing grey eyes and curly blond hair that looked like spun gold, even through the streaks of dirt and sweat. Her body armor glinted faintly in the dim light, giving her an almost ethereal vibe. Honestly? It was unsettling how composed she seemed, but then again, she was Athena's kid. Being sharp and controlled was probably in the DNA.
She glanced down at Percy and arched a skeptical brow. "This is him? Doesn't look tough enough to kill a Minotaur." Her tone had just the right amount of bite to it.
I cleared my throat and leaned back in my chair. "He had help, ya' know. What'd you think this was? Glorfindel vs. Balrog Thaurlach? Please. Try more like Glorfindel and a random wizard fumbling with his spells vs. Balrog Thaurlach. Way more chaotic, way less cool."
Annabeth rolled her eyes and huffed. "Whatever, nerd. Not impressed."
Before I could retort, Percy's eyes fluttered open. He blinked groggily, his gaze slowly focusing on Annabeth standing right over him. I could tell the guy was still out of it because how he stared at her—like she was glowing—made me cringe a little. Light reflected off her armor just enough to make her look, well, otherworldly. Guess to him, she probably did.
"Hello—" Percy started, his voice barely above a croak.
Annabeth cut him off, deadpan and unimpressed. "You drool when you sleep. Wipe your mouth."
Percy blinked again, reality snapping back into place. He awkwardly wiped at his face while Grover, who had been standing behind Annabeth, stepped forward with a grin. "Welcome back, buddy," he said, clapping Percy on the shoulder lightly.
I couldn't resist chiming in, "Welcome back to hell, Jackson. Hope you packed light."
Percy blinked groggily, his gaze slowly taking in the room around him. The faint cacophony of moans and groans filled the air. Though it looks like, he realized his bed was just one of many inside the large, stone-walled infirmary. Rows of battered kids, aged anywhere between 11 and 18, lay in various states of injury. Broken bones, bruises, and bandages were everywhere.
"Huh..." I muttered, realizing I'd completely forgotten how intense this place could be. "Yikes."
Percy, clearly overwhelmed, croaked, "Where am I?"
"The infirmary," Grover answered, stepping closer. "You've been out cold for three days."
Percy tried sitting up, only to wince in pain. Before he could collapse back onto the bed, I moved in to support him. "Easy, man. You're not running any marathons just yet."
Annabeth, who hadn't said much until now, shoved a goblet filled with some kind of glowing, golden liquid into Percy's face. "Drink this. It'll help."
Percy eyed the goblet warily, sniffing it like it might explode. "What is this?"
Annabeth rolled her eyes. "Don't be a weasel. Just drink."
I added with a small smirk, "It's safe. Trust me. The taste is... well, it'll be a surprise."
Percy glanced between us before finally taking a cautious sip. His expression immediately brightened as a wave of energy seemed to wash over him.
"Good stuff. What is it?" he asked, his voice stronger now.
"Ambrosia and nectar," Annabeth replied matter-of-factly. "Food of the Gods."
"Tastes like my mom's caramel brownies," Percy said, the corners of his mouth quirking up into a small smile.
"Figures," I chimed in, leaning casually against the bed frame. "Mine always tastes like cookies and cream. Same flavor every time."
"It always tastes like your favorite food," Grover explained, shrugging like this was the most normal thing in the world.
"Yeah, what he said," I added, giving Percy a reassuring nod.
Annabeth checked a clock on the wall and sighed, clearly impatient. "Time for more training," she announced, before turning to Percy with a smirk. "See you on the battlefield... hero." Then she shot me a sly look, adding mockingly, "Try not to blow anything up with your magic tricks, wizard."
Unbothered, I shrugged and replied, "Noted. I'll keep it small-scale just for you."
With an audible clank of armor, Annabeth stalked off, shield and sword in hand. Percy watched her leave. Before we could fully process the interaction, more clanging echoed through the infirmary as several campers were carried in on stretchers. They were filthy, covered in dirt, mud, and blood, all wearing mismatched Greek battle armor over jeans and orange camp T-shirts. The symbols on the shirts were faint but distinctively Greek.
Percy's brows furrowed. "What happened to them?" he asked, his voice quiet but tense.
"She did," Grover replied simply, his tone laced with a mix of amusement and awe.
I couldn't help but chuckle. "I was gonna tell you to make a good first impression, but judging by the look she gave you earlier? You've already failed."
Percy grinned despite himself. "Great..."
Grover wasn't laughing anymore. His expression was serious. "Do you remember anything? About what happened?"
Percy frowned, rubbing his temple. "Bits and pieces. It's all jumbled. I remember... this crazy dream. My mom was there, and then... There was a Minotaur. Thad's hands were on fire or covered in ice or something weird like that. And you..." Percy trailed off, his gaze slowly dropping to Grover's lower half.
He blinked, staring in disbelief. Grover's furry, goat-like legs and hooves were completely visible now. "You were some kind of weird hybrid goat thing—"
Grover coughed, cutting him off. "Actually, I prefer 'Satyr.' It's got a nice ring to it, don't you think?" He cleared his throat awkwardly, holding something out. "Oh. And this is yours." In Grover's hands was the Minotaur horn, now dull and lifeless but still sharp and imposing.
"It was real," Percy whispered, his voice filled with disbelief and dread. "All of it was real."
I leaned against a bedpost, trying to keep things light despite the heavy atmosphere. "Yup. One hundred percent real. And just so we're clear, I'm probably getting an earful and a lifetime grounding when this is all over. So... we're all suffering here."
Grover winced, looking down in shame. "I'm sorry, Percy. It's my fault. I blew it. It was my job to protect you. Both of you."
Percy continued to stare at the horn in silence, his knuckles turning white as he gripped it tighter. His expression was a mix of sorrow and frustration, the kind that makes you realize someone's entire world has just crumbled. His voice cracked as he spoke, barely above a whisper. "My mom... She's really gone."
I sighed, scratching the back of my head. "I'd love to be the guy who tells you, 'Hey, maybe it's not what it looks like.' But... yeah, man. It's a tough one to swallow."
Percy nodded, his lips pressing into a thin line as he tried to hold back tears. He wasn't ready to break yet, but it was clear he was barely holding it together.
- - -
Later, Percy, now dressed and visibly subdued, walked alongside Grover down the long aisle past the rows of moaning, battered campers still recovering in their beds. I trailed behind them, letting the silence stretch, though Percy finally broke it as his gaze swept across the room.
"Where are we?" he asked, his voice low.
Grover glanced at him. "Camp Half-Blood."
I raised an eyebrow, trying to wrap my head around it. "So, instead of an academy with formal classes, you guys run a summer camp? Interesting branding choice."
We stepped out of the infirmary and into the open, and I had to admit, it was stunning. The camp sprawled across acres of lush, vibrant land, surrounded by towering pine trees. The buildings scattered throughout looked like they'd been ripped straight out of a history book on Ancient Greece. Stone and marble structures, weathered yet beautiful, stood against the backdrop of the forest. In the distance, a small coliseum rose above the horizon.
"No. Fuckin'. Way. That's a coliseum!" I said, pointing at it like a kid in a candy store.
Grover snorted. "Yeah. And you should see it during a capture-the-flag match."
"Capture the flag?" I asked, intrigued. "With swords, shields, and probably a ton of broken limbs? Sounds exhausting."
Percy stayed quiet, his gaze distant as he processed everything. His mind was still stuck on the person—he had lost. This was going to take more than a tour and some time to shake.
Grover adjusted his stance, rolling his eyes dramatically before continuing, "Ahem! As I was trying to say before someone rudely interrupted—" he shot me a playful glare—"Camp Half-Blood was created by the Olympians, specifically for their demigod children. You know, kids like Percy."
I raised a brow. "Except, I'm the odd one out. Again." I gave a dramatic sigh, pretending to look offended.
Grover smirked, mockingly bowing toward me. "Oh, forgive me, Great Exception. How could I have forgotten your royal uniqueness?"
In response, I snapped my fingers, summoning a tiny flame to hover in my palm. "Careful, G-man. I've got fire and I'm not afraid to use it."
Grover flinched with exaggerated panic, his hands going up in mock surrender. "Okay, okay! Relax! Geez, touchy newbies these days..."
Percy, meanwhile, just stood there, gawking at everything around us. He looked like a kid who'd been dropped into an alien planet—wide-eyed and utterly lost.
"Bro, are you good?" I asked, waving a hand in front of his face.
He blinked, shook his head, and muttered, "Yeah... yeah, I'm just... processing."
As we walked further into the camp, the sheer activity was impossible to ignore. Hundreds of kids, ranging from 11 to about 21, were scattered everywhere. They wore everything from casual modern clothes to partial armor, like some cosplay convention gone wild.
We passed an open amphitheater where a blind old man was reciting verses from The Odyssey. A few kids sat nearby, listening intently, while others doodled, carved wood, or sparred in the background.
"This," Grover began, gesturing around us, "is where demigods come to learn. To harness their powers, to discover their purpose, and—if they're brave enough—to become leaders, warriors, artists... and heroes."
Percy scoffed, crossing his arms. "Heroes? You've got the wrong guy. I'm no hero. I'm just a screw-up who happens to have dyslexia and ADHD."
Grover stopped walking and turned to face him, a hint of firmness in his voice. "Those aren't curses, Percy. They're your greatest gifts."
Percy's face twisted in disbelief. "You're calling dyslexia and ADHD gifts? Seriously?"
I chimed in, half-joking but with an edge of truth, "Eh, I'd say it's a toss-up—like 50/50. My abilities are more of a constant struggle, so count yourself lucky. Even so, Percy, what's it gonna take for you to accept this? You went toe-to-toe with a Minotaur. A freaking Minotaur! You barely made it out alive. How thick is that skull of yours?"
Percy frowned, his gaze dropping to the ground. "I don't know... it just doesn't feel real. Like, any of this."
I clapped a hand on his shoulder, grinning slightly. "Trust me, man. It doesn't get more real than this. The sooner you accept it, the easier it'll be to move forward. Also, pro tip: don't overthink it too much. We'll both be figuring this out as we go."
I hoped Percy would reach some sort of closure soon—preferably before the next monster or whatever fresh hell came barreling through our lives again. Seriously, we weren't exactly winning awards for "Most Peaceful Week Ever."
As we walked, the camp bustled with activity. We passed a group of kids at the archery range, firing arrows with precision. Others were throwing javelins, their weapons cutting through the air with deadly accuracy. Nearby, a few campers hammered away in the blacksmith furnace, forging swords and shields that glowed with molten heat. A smaller, quieter group worked on vases at a potter's wheel, their hands moving with practiced grace. It was like some bizarre cross between ancient Greece and a summer camp, but somehow... It worked.
Grover, still in his role as the resident-wise Satyr, turned to Percy with an expectant look. "Thad's right, you know. You can't keep avoiding the obvious, Percy. It's time you start paying attention. Tell me this—when you try to read, do the letters seem to float off the page? All jumbled up like they don't make sense?"
Percy hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah, but... how'd you know that?"
Grover smirked knowingly. "That's because your brain isn't wired for English. It's hard-wired for Ancient Greek. Not something you see on billboards every day. I'm willing to bet you had no trouble reading that book Mr. Brunner gave you during detention, huh?"
Percy blinked, the realization dawning on him. "Wait. That was Greek?"
I let out a short laugh, rolling my eyes for good measure. "No, Percy, that was Elvish... Of course, it was Greek. I could read it too—for reasons I'm still trying to figure out." I shrugged, offering a slight nod.
Grover pressed on, leaning closer to Percy as if this was the moment he'd been waiting for. "And your ADHD? The way you're impulsive, how you can't seem to sit still? That's not a problem—it's a gift. Your natural battle reflexes. They kept you alive when you faced the Minotaur. No ordinary mortal screw-up could've pulled that off."
I tilted my head, squinting at Percy. "Wait, is that why you dodged that Minotaur so easily? I thought maybe you had chugged some pre-workout or something before the fight."
Grover, without missing a beat, nodded emphatically. "Exactly!" He turned back to Percy, his tone softening, as though he was delivering the punchline to a long, elaborate setup. "Percy... your blood isn't ordinary. It's... special."
Grover hesitated as if the next words were heavy. Then, with a tone bordering on reverence, he said, "The blood of a god."
I grinned and made a sweeping gesture with my hand, mimicking the sound of trumpets. "Cue divine music," I quipped.
Percy, as expected, looked both skeptical and overwhelmed. "Wait, so... all these kids?" He gestured to the campers around us. "They're all sons and daughters of gods?"
Grover nodded, dead serious. "And goddesses. You're one of them, Percy."
I couldn't help but add, "Looks like you've got yourself a front-row seat to the most dysfunctional family reunion in history."
We stopped at a practice battlefield, and my attention, along with Percy's, was immediately drawn to the action. Annabeth was sword-fighting, moving with a lethal grace as she bested several male opponents—stronger ones at that. I could tell Percy was watching with more than just passing curiosity. The way his eyes lingered? Yeah, I've got a good eye for this sort of thing.
I leaned closer, smirking. "Good taste, Perce. Seems like you're into girls way smarter than you, huh?"
Percy, caught off guard, blinked. "What? I mean—what's her name?"
Grover joined in with a knowing grin. "Oh, so now you're curious, huh? Smokin', isn't she?"
"Her name, guys?" Percy pressed, trying to sound casual but failing miserably.
Grover chuckled, clearly enjoying this way too much. "Annabeth. Daughter of Athena, goddess of wisdom and war. Also... you're not the first to ask."
Percy frowned slightly, gears turning in his head. "I thought Athena was supposed to be a virgin goddess?"
Grover rolled his eyes and deadpanned, "She was. But you try holding out for 10,000 years. I barely made it through health class."
I burst out laughing at that, but Percy ignored me, still sneaking glances at Annabeth. "I don't know what you're talking about," he muttered.
I nudged him with a grin. "Oh, you know what we're talking about. Don't give me that innocent act."
Grover nodded in agreement. "Yeah, Percy, we all see it. Right, T?"
I raised an eyebrow at Percy. "All I'm saying is: don't die. And if you do, make sure it's heroic enough for the history books."
Percy stared at us, confused and more than a little flustered. "What is even happening right now?"
Me and Grover just laughed, leaving him in the dust of his own bewilderment.
As we continued walking, we approached the edge of the coliseum. A loud, excited commotion caught our attention—a horse race was in full swing. Eight sleek horses galloped around the track in a thunderous cloud of dust, their muscular forms silhouetted against the blazing afternoon sun. The intensity of the scene was magnetic, the energy palpable.
As the horses crossed the finish line, the dust began to settle, and that's when Percy's jaw dropped. These weren't ordinary horses—nope. They were Centaurs. Half-man, half-horse, and very much out of the ordinary. Percy's eyes went wide as one of the centaurs trotted toward us.
The closer it got, the more familiar it seemed. Percy leaned forward, squinting, and then blurted out, "Mr. Brunner!?"
The centaur smiled warmly. "Here, I'm known as Chiron. It's nice to see you up and about, Percy."
Percy stammered, pointing like he couldn't believe his eyes. "You're... you're..."
Chiron chuckled, his tone good-natured. "A real horse's ass, I know. Sorry I had to keep my true form hidden from you, but it was for your protection. I hope you can forgive me."
I raised an eyebrow, struggling to hide my smirk. "Next time, maybe keep the wheelchair handy, huh? Adds to the mystery."
Percy, still processing, asked, "Yeah, but... what happened to your wheelchair?"
Chiron explained patiently, his voice calm as always. "The wheelchair is only for when I'm in mortal form. Walking on just two legs? Not exactly my strong suit."
With that, he gestured for us to follow him, leading us through the camp. The sheer scale of it still hadn't fully sunk in for me, and clearly not for Percy either. He stared at everything like a kid dropped into the middle of a video game.
"Is this your camp?" Percy asked.
Chiron shook his head modestly. "No, Percy. I'm merely an overseer and a trainer here."
We continued walking until we reached an alcove by the lake, where eleven distinct houses—more like frat-style mansions—were arranged in a neat circle. Statues and fountains were scattered throughout the common area, giving it a mix of ancient and collegiate vibes.
"This is where you'll be staying," Chiron explained, gesturing toward the area. "We call it Greek Row."
Percy glanced at me, clearly wondering about my accommodations. "What about Thad?"
I shrugged, trying to keep it casual. "Don't worry about me. I've got a cabin all to myself. Been bonding with the local rat population. Real charming roommates, let me tell you."
As we moved along Greek Row, we passed one house that stood out immediately. Several smokestacks billowed thick black smoke into the air, and outside, a group of kids worked at billows and anvils, their faces smudged with sweat and soot.
Chiron pointed toward the activity. "The heirs of Hephaestus. Smith and weapon-maker of the gods."
Weapons, huh? My survival instincts kicked in. "Mental note," I muttered to myself. "Ask these guys for a custom weapon later. Something sharp enough to deal with the next raging bull-man that shows up."
Percy, though still lost in awe, managed a small grin. "You're already planning for the next monster?"
I shot him a look. "Buddy, around here, it's better to assume the next monster's already planning for us."
We continued walking, passing another building that immediately screamed trouble. It looked like a literal fortress, complete with barbed-wire fencing around its lawn. From inside, the sound of angry music—the kind that could melt eardrums—blared at full volume. Out front, a group of big, mean-looking kids yelled at each other, some already mid-brawl.
Chiron, ever the calm narrator, gestured toward them. "The offspring of Ares, God of War."
I raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, I'm definitely not borrowing sugar from that cabin." Percy looked like he was about to ask a question but wisely decided against it.
The next cabin was a complete 180 in vibe. The yard was full of hyperactive kids, running around like they'd downed a gallon of soda each. They pulled pranks, darted between one another, and cackled like maniacs. Their sharp noses and mischievous smirks made it clear they were up to no good.
Chiron gestured with a knowing smile. "Those pranksters are the offspring of Hermes, The messenger of the gods."
As if to underline Chiron's words, one of Hermes' sons nudged a nearby brother, motioning toward the sorority-esque house next door. It was decked out in romantic statues, lush gardens, and had this air of don't even try it. The girls lounging on the front lawn were otherworldly beautiful, most of them sunbathing like they didn't know they could stop their hearts just by looking up.
Grover stopped dead in his tracks. Like, completely frozen. His expression was one of pure inner turmoil like he was fighting off some primal urge—and, unsurprisingly, losing.
"Daughters of Aphrodite," Grover said in a reverent tone, barely above a whisper. "Goddess of love... and other four-letter words."
Before anyone could comment, the sprinklers on the lawn went off. Water drenched the girls, who screamed and darted for cover. Meanwhile, the Hermes kids erupted into laughter, rolling on the ground like they'd just pulled off the prank of the century.
One girl shot Grover a glare and shouted, "Grover!"
Without missing a beat, Grover turned to us. "I'll, uh... catch up with you guys later."
And just like that, he took off, making a mad dash toward the drenched Aphrodite girls, chasing them around the grounds with the enthusiasm of a golden retriever who just found a tennis ball.
I folded my arms and sighed, shaking my head. "Aaaaaand there goes another comrade. I'm definitely not asking what he's up to later. Nope."
Chiron didn't even flinch, just shook his head like this was par for the course. "Satyrs. You can never completely train them to stop chasing the nymphs."
I smirked, casting a sidelong glance at Chiron. "The Maxim magazine should've been our first clue, huh?"
Chiron gave me a weary but amused nod as we moved on.
We rounded the "U" of Greek Row, and I couldn't help but notice the cabin we were approaching. It stood out like a sore thumb—though, in a good way. The place looked like it had been pulled straight from the ocean floor, with walls that seemed to be made of gleaming coral and sea-green stone. A large fountain gurgled in front of it, water cascading in elegant arcs that seemed to shimmer unnaturally, even in the daylight.
Chiron halted in front of the cabin, turning to Percy with a warm but serious expression.
"Welcome home," he said, his voice carrying an air of reverence.
Percy froze. You could practically see the gears turning in his head, though they clearly weren't making much progress.
"Your father built this," Chiron added, gesturing toward the cabin with a slight incline of his head. "For you."
Percy blinked, his voice hesitant. "My father?"
I couldn't resist cutting in, rolling my eyes at this point. "My guy, seriously? How many times are you gonna fight this reality? Do you need a neon sign that says, 'Yes, your dad is a Greek god?' Because at this point, I'm tempted to make one for you."
Chiron smirked slightly at my remark before rearing up on his hind legs and delivering a sharp kick to the cabin doors. They swung open with a resounding thud, revealing the interior—a space that felt like stepping into the heart of the ocean itself. The air inside was cooler, almost misty, with faint, soothing sounds of waves echoing in the background.
As Percy hesitantly stepped closer, Chiron declared with a sense of finality: "Poseidon."
That's when it hit Percy—and, frankly, it hit me again too, even though I'd already guessed it. My instincts told me this was coming, but there's a difference between suspecting and hearing it confirmed.
I threw up my hands in mock exasperation. "Aw, hell nah! I knew it! Of course, you're the son of the sea god. What's next? A trident in your back pocket?"
Percy turned to me with an incredulous look, still digesting the revelation. His silence said everything: denial, disbelief, and maybe even a little hope.
Chiron, ever the steady presence, stepped inside, leaving us to follow. "Come. There's much to discuss, Percy."
I shook my head, muttering under my breath as I stepped in behind Percy. "The son of Poseidon. Great. No pressure or anything, huh?"
Inside Poseidon's cabin, I was immediately struck by the atmosphere—it felt more like stepping into an underwater palace than a camp cabin. Most of the space was dominated by an enormous indoor pool, its surface shimmering with an otherworldly glow. The sound of cascading waterfalls lined the staircases, giving the room a soothing, perpetual motion. Statues of majestic horses stood at strategic points throughout, while a nearby wall showcased an impressive collection of ancient, rusted tridents, each one with a story etched into its corroded surface.
Percy, predictably, was frozen in awe, his gaze flitting from one marvel to the next. I rolled my eyes slightly but couldn't suppress a small grin. It was like watching a kid step into Disneyland for the first time—though, admittedly, this was leagues cooler than a cartoon mouse.
Chiron stood at the center, his presence commanding yet gentle as always. "Your father is the God of the Seas," he began, his tone deliberate, meant to impart weight. "As well as horses and earthquakes. It was his wish that you lead a normal life. For your protection, he asked me to watch over you. When you were older, I chose Grover to be your protector."
Percy wandered over to the tridents, his hand brushing lightly against their worn metal. After a moment, he picked one up, its weight testing his grip. "Why didn't my mom ever tell me?" he asked, his voice quieter now.
Chiron's expression softened. "She couldn't, Percy. It was for your safety. You must understand—there hasn't been a demigod born of the Big Three in over a hundred years... not until you."
Percy glanced back at Chiron, the pieces slowly clicking together in his mind. "The Big Three... Zeus, Hades, and Poseidon?"
I couldn't help myself. "Duh, dude. The big, the bad, and the ugly."
As if on cue, thunder rumbled ominously outside. Percy looked startled, but I just waved it off casually.
Chiron sighed. "Thaddeus, please. Let's not provoke the skies."
I gave a half-hearted shrug and looked up at the ceiling. "Sorry, Zeus, but you're not exactly making a great first impression. I still stand by what I said, though."
Chiron pinched the bridge of his nose but continued. "As I was saying. Being a child of the Big Three makes you different, Percy. Special. Powerful. And, unfortunately, a threat."
Percy's brow furrowed. "A threat to what?"
Chiron gave him a meaningful look. "To everything. That's why your mother married your stepfather. Gabe's... unique scent masked the smell of your divine blood. It kept you hidden from those who would harm you."
"Like the Minotaur," Percy said, the realization hitting him.
Chiron nodded gravely. "Exactly."
Percy's lips curled into an incredulous smirk. "So Gabe's ass actually saved mine?"
I let out a dry laugh. "Not by choice, though. I'd hardly credit that walking trash bag with anything good. The guy couldn't save a sandwich from himself."
Chiron gave me a pointed look. "Let's not disparage the man too much. He did serve a purpose."
Percy ignored us, the weight of everything settling on his shoulders. "But why am I in danger? Why now? Why are these things chasing me, trying to kill me?"
The room grew silent, save for the steady trickle of water from the fountains. Even I felt the shift in tone. Whatever was coming next, I had a feeling Percy wasn't going to like the answer. Neither was I.
Chiron leaned on his forelegs, his face etched with the weight of the conversation. "Actually, for the time being, they prefer you alive," he began, his tone calm but serious.
I raised an eyebrow, half-expecting this to take a turn. "Wait, hold up. I thought it was the usual 'you stole something from me, so now I'm gonna curse you and your descendants forever' type of thing."
Percy, equally confused, chimed in, "Yeah, why would they want me alive then?"
Chiron took a measured breath before answering. "They think you've stolen something valuable. Something that could shift the balance of power."
Percy's face twisted with frustration. "But I didn't steal anything! I don't even know what they're talking about!"
"We believe you," Chiron reassured him. "Grover does. And so does Thaddeus, though not many others do. Unfortunately, Zeus has convinced almost everyone else that you're..." He hesitated for a moment, then finished with emphasis. "The Lightning Thief."
Chiron's gaze turned upward, and Percy and I followed. Above us was the cabin's breathtaking ceiling—a stunning three-dimensional painting that depicted the rich history of the gods. It made the Sistine Chapel look like a finger painting. Chiron pointed to one particular image of Zeus, riding among the clouds, gripping a powerful bolt of lightning in his hand. The detail was so sharp it almost seemed to crackle with energy.
"Let's get serious for a moment," I said, gesturing to Percy. "Does this guy—this skinny, untrained kid—look like someone who could pull off a god-tier heist? I mean, c'mon, Brunn—uh, Chiron. You're kidding, right?"
Chiron shook his head solemnly. "I wish I were. Nevertheless here's the truth. Zeus' Master Bolt—the original bolt from which all lightning originates, the most powerful weapon ever created, capable of harnessing the energy of multiple hydrogen bombs—was stolen days ago."
That last part hit like a brick. Days ago? My mind immediately flickered to that vivid dream I had—the one of Zeus and Poseidon arguing atop the Empire State Building. Pieces of the puzzle began to slide into place, and I didn't like the picture they were forming.
Percy broke the silence, his voice rising with bewilderment. "Why do they think it was me?!"
Chiron pointed to another part of the ceiling, this one depicting a fierce battle between Zeus and Poseidon, their divine forms locked in eternal combat.
I rubbed the back of my neck, sighing as realization dawned. "Ohhh... I get it now," I muttered, then couldn't help throwing in a poorly-timed joke to lighten the mood. "Guess this is what happens when sibling rivalry goes nuclear."
Chiron raised an eyebrow at me but pressed on. "When the bolt disappeared, Zeus naturally blamed your father. Their rivalry has lasted centuries, always teetering on the brink of open war."
I crossed my arms, nodding. "Centuries? Feels more like 'since the dawn of time' to me."
The sky rumbled ominously, a low growl that seemed to echo Chiron's words. Percy flinched, and I let out an exasperated sigh.
"Oh, come on! I didn't even say his name this time!"
The thunder cracked louder, and I raised my hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright! Point taken. You're listening. Noted."
Chiron gave me a look somewhere between amusement and warning. "Best to leave it alone, Thaddeus. The gods don't take kindly to mockery."
I muttered under my breath, "Good thing I wasn't aiming for kind..."
Chiron's expression grew more somber, his tone as grave as the stormy skies that seemed to loom over everything lately. "To continue," he began, "as ancient law forbids the gods from crossing into each other's realms, only a demigod—someone like you, Percy—is capable of navigating those boundaries. Especially one who is Zeus' closest relative."
I leaned against a nearby coral pillar, my arms crossed. "And the real thief probably used that as a sneaky backdoor to get to Olympus," I said, the realization settling like a weight in the room.
Percy looked utterly lost, anger creeping into his voice. "But I've never even met my dad! And I sure as hell wouldn't steal anything for him. I'm not some errand boy for a god I don't even know!"
I raised a hand, trying to calm him down. "Hey, man, ease up on the words."
Chiron nodded, though his expression didn't lighten. "And that brings us to the real problem. Unless the bolt is returned to Zeus by midnight of the summer solstice—three weeks from now—there will be war."
I straightened up, alarmed. "three weeks?! Are you serious? Why the hell are we just hearing about this now?"
Chiron gave me a pointed look. "Percy needed time to adjust, to process everything. It's not something one drops on a person lightly." He sighed, glancing at Percy. "Although it seems he's struggling with reality as it is."
Percy, ever the sarcastic one, rolled his eyes. "Right, so let me guess: Zeus versus Poseidon. Two gods enter, one god leaves. Got it. Just another WWE."
Chiron didn't dignify that with a smile. "War among the gods is no laughing matter, Percy. It would force the Olympians to take sides, plunging the entire world into chaos. Nature itself will turn against humanity. Modern civilization as you know it—gone."
I let out a long breath, shaking my head. "End of the world... Great. Just what I needed today. Now, when can I start drafting my will? You know, just in case we don't make it."
Percy, no longer sarcastic, looked genuinely concerned."So... what do we do?"
Chiron leaned on his forelegs, calm but resolute. "For the next few days, you'll remain here at camp. We'll allow time for tempers to cool and for you to adjust further to your new reality. After that, we'll journey to Olympus, where you'll present your case to Zeus and convince him of your innocence."
I groaned, rubbing the back of my neck. "I think I've already said this, but for the record... that's probably the worst idea I've heard since Percy and I ran headfirst into that Minotaur."
Chiron raised an eyebrow at me. "Do we have any other choice, Thaddeus?"
I opened my mouth, paused, and closed it again. Finally, I sighed. "If I had a penny for every good idea I've got right now, I'd still have zero. So, I guess we're winging it."