Chapter Text
Arc IV - Epilogue Arc.
Camp Half-Blood was beautiful when Dionysus wasn’t being a dick. Maybe Nico should start a petition for Ariadne to come and visit Dionysus more often than not; it seemed to do the trick for Dionysus's moods. Not even Percy tried to start an argument with him to change his mood. Speaking of moods…. Nico swallowed a breath as he entered the Big House, specifically the rec room. Nico nudged the door open.
Annabeth and Percy were sitting by the fire of the rec room, all holding cups of hot chocolate beside them. With the shadows around him, Nico could overhear their conversation.
“You looked through the databases, right?” Percy asked.
Annabeth nodded, brows narrowed onto the couch behind Percy. “There’s no Jason Grace anywhere,” Annabeth says quietly.
“We’ll figure it out, I promise,” Percy responded.
Nico turned around.
Nearby, the senior campers were walking around and finding their seats—Beckendorf, Silena Beauregard, and the Stoll brothers. Even Clarisse from the Ares cabin was there, back from her secretive scouting mission. She had a new scar on her chin, and her light brown hair had been cut short and ragged like someone had attacked it with a pair of safety scissors. "I got news," she mumbled uneasily. "Bad news even.” Nico scootched closer to the end of the room, far away from any peculiar or curious eyes as the room quietened down.
She nods towards Chiron, who nodded in response. "I'll fill you in later," Chiron said with forced cheerfulness. He turned towards the other kids in the room, wincing. "The important thing is you have prevailed. And you saved the twin gods!"
"Luke is alive," Nico interrupted. The room tensed and they all looked at Nico.
“What did this punk just say?” Clarrise asked.
Micheal leaned forward, eyes wary, not doing anything for the dark marks under his eyes. Nico almost winced, knowing full well that Micheal alone was safeguarding the Apollo cabin. Lee was dead, leaving Micheal in charge.
Connor and Travis were behind the child of Apollo, both looking engaged in the conversation in hand.
He glanced at Percy, who sighed, making everyone turn to him. “My father, Poseidon, confirmed it.”
“Then where the hell is the guy then?” Clarrise asked, dark eyes glimmering.
The room remained quiet.
"Well." Annabeth shifted uncomfortably in her chair. "If the final battle does come when Percy is sixteen, at least we have two more years to figure something out." Nico tensed.
Chiron's expression was gloomy. Sitting by the fire in his wheelchair, he looked really old, older than usual.
"Two years may seem like a long time," he said. "But it is the blink of an eye. I still hope you are not the child of the prophecy, Percy. But if you are, then the second Titan war is almost upon us. Kronos's first strike will be here." Chiron sighed and leaned back in his chair, looking wry.
"How do you know?" Percy asked. "Why would he care about camp?"
"Because the gods use heroes as their tools," Chiron said simply. "Destroy the tools, and the gods will be crippled. Luke's forces will come here. Mortal, demigod, monstrous… We must be prepared. Clarisse's news may give us a clue as to how they will attack, but—" There was a knock on the door, and Grover raced in, cheeks red and hugging hard in breath, blinking furiously. His face was haggard and pale like he'd seen a spectre. "He spoke. Oh, gods!” Grover cried out.
"Calm down, my young satyr," Chiron said, frowning. "What is the matter, Grover?” Chiron asked.
"I… I was playing music in the parlour," he stammered, "and drinking coffee. Lots and lots of coffee! And he spoke in my mind!" Nico tensed.
"Who?" Annabeth demanded.
"Pan!" Grover wailed.
"The Lord of the Wild himself. I heard him! I have to… I have to find a suitcase. Oh, gods! Pan!” Grover cried.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Percy said, leaning forward.
"What did he say?" Grover stared at Percy.
"Just three words. He said, blinking furiously, 'I await you...'"