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Chapter Text

A half-blood of the eldest gods

The sky roared with thunder, and jagged bolts of lightning split the dark storm clouds above as Thalia Grace, daughter of Zeus, stood at the edge of a destiny she could not escape.

Here on Mount Olympus, in the heart of the gods’ domain, she lay sprawled among toppled columns and shattered statues. Kronos’s single, crushing blow had not only hurled her to the marble floor—it had rattled the very core of this immortal place.

Pain flared across Thalia’s body as she landed. The cold stone beneath her drained the warmth from her limbs. The sky above unleashed its wrath with a tempest of lightning and thunder. Dark clouds churned, as if the sky itself was witnessing the final act of an aeon-old play.

Shall reach sixteen against all odds

The verse, filled with the weight of destiny, became her anchor as she lay overwhelmed. Each memory of her sixteenth year, every hard-won battle, every impossible triumph, rose to meet her, not as scattered moments but as pieces of a grand design. Her life had not been aimless; it was a path carved by fate, each step pushing her toward this moment. She was the living testament of prophecy, her very essence the embodiment of the line 'against all odds'.

Kronos, the ancient and merciless lord of time, approached with the steady pace of inevitability. His progress towards her was methodical and chilling. Thalia's body ached, with every bruise and ragged breath urging her to stay down, to accept the futility of resistance. It was not just the physical pain that pinned her; a deep, gnawing sense of defeat encroached upon her spirit. The intense need to rise, to challenge the titan once more, was held back by a deep sense of despair that whispered seductively of an end to striving, an end to the fear, an end to the relentless march of duty. An end to everything.

And see the world in endless sleep

As Thalia lay on the cold marble, the meaning of the prophecy sharpened in her mind. The "endless sleep" was no metaphor; it was death: total and absolute. A silence that would smother every living thing.

The weight of this truth bore down on her, heavier than the skies above. This was more than one life, more than one battle. Every moment of courage, every fight against fate, had led here, to the edge of a void that threatened to engulf all creation in shadow.

Doubt crept in, thick and suffocating. Her belief that she could change this course flickered, dimmed by the enormity of what lay before her. Engulfed by the gravity of her situation, it felt as if she, along with the entire world, might soon succumb to that endless sleep, with no hero left to awaken it from its nightmare.

The hero’s soul, cursed blade shall reap

The words of the prophecy struck Thalia like a knife, each one cutting deeper. She had been there, frozen in Kronos’s grasp, time itself binding her while the cursed blade reached its mark. She had fought to break free, screaming inside, but the Titan’s hold was absolute. She could only watch, helpless, as the moment unfolded.

The memory burned worse than her wounds. The ache of her body on the marble was nothing compared to the sting of knowing she had been powerless, trapped in time as the prophecy turned to reality. The scene played on a loop in her mind, each repetition twisting the blade further.

All this, while the ancient Titan Kronos, unmoved by the audacity of the young demigods before him, proceeded with his relentless march toward dominion. Percy had risen in a surge of desperate valor, shouting with anger while lunging towards the dark lord with the fury of a storm. But Kronos dismissed him with a flick of his hand, sending him crashing to the ground beside Thalia.

The marble beneath her seemed to tremble with every step the Titan took. And as the tainted air around him bent and twisted, it was as though reality itself was warping under the strain of his corruptive aura.

Kronos’s presence filled the air with a suffocating weight. Thalia felt its cold grip pressing against her, a quiet whisper urging her to give in. Percy, laying on the cold marble beside her, met Thalia’s eyes, In his eyes, she saw the same exhaustion and doubt that threatened to pull her under.

A single choice shall end his days

The prophecy’s words echoed in Thalia’s mind, a relentless rhythm that matched the storm above. Percy lay before her, his chest rising and falling with the steady beat of thunder. The sight stirred something deep within her—a pull as powerful and inescapable as the ocean he could control.

He wasn’t just her friend. Percy had become her anchor, her constant, the one who made her feel grounded even in the chaos of their world. Somewhere along their journey, he had stopped being just a part of her life and had become a part of her very soul, a thread so deeply woven into her being that she couldn’t imagine untangling it. The thought that the prophecy might mean him—that his life could end with a single choice—didn’t just twist her heart; it shattered it. The idea of a world without Percy was unthinkable, a hollow void that left her breathless with fear.

Her fingers brushed the thin bracelet tied around her wrist, its fibers worn yet unyielding. She had worn it for months. Now, in the storm’s charged air, it seemed to thrum faintly, almost alive. A soft glow pulsed along the thread, so faint she wondered if it was a trick of the lightning. But as her heart pounded, she couldn’t shake the feeling that the thread was tied to this moment, to this choice. Its presence now seemed to weigh heavily against her wrist, as though it carried a piece of her destiny she was just beginning to understand.

Olympus to preserve or raze.

The final line of the prophecy thundered in Thalia’s mind, louder than the storm raging above. Olympus stood at the precipice, its future teetering between salvation and ruin. As Kronos raised his scythe, the world seemed to hold its breath, the weight of the moment pressing down on every corner of existence.

Would she rise to preserve the glory of Olympus? Or would she falter, and with her, watch the world be consumed by the endless sleep and be razed to the very foundations Each outcome loomed ahead, shrouded in uncertainty, hers alone to confront and define.

Thalia’s pulse matched the storm’s relentless rhythm as she braced herself for the next battle against Kronos. And as the sky above crackled with ominous energy, the next moment poised to tip the balance, the prophecy's final line echoed in her mind, its shadow falling over the single choice ready to tip the balance of fate.

The choice was near, the end, or a new beginning, was nigh, and the world watched, waiting for the harbinger of its destiny to act.

Chapter Text

The Unwanted Fate Arc I

The exhausted heroes stood at the foot of the twelve Olympian gods.

The throne room of Olympus radiated with the tangible presence of ancient power. High above, the ceiling stretched into an illusion of infinity, where the swirling heavens played out a celestial dance. The stars above were twinkling, including the newest constellation: Zoe the Huntress, making her way across the heavens with her bow drawn.

In the splendor of the throne room, among the gods' discourse, Thalia stood awash in the turmoil of her own thoughts, her attention ensnared by the echo of her recent fight. The gravity of the gods' words became a distant murmur against the roar of battle still resounding in her ears. She had just faced Luke, her once friend, on Mount Othrys. The image of him falling, a consequence of her own actions, played before her eyes in relentless repetition. His face, a blend of betrayal and sorrow, haunted her, piercing through the counsel's debates and resolutions. Guilt clasped her heart with a cold grip, causing the voices of deities to fade into a haze. Their words about the Ophiotaurus and the impending weight of prophecy were as elusive to her grasp as the stars that flickered overhead.

Thalia struggled to anchor herself back to the present. She caught the briefest glance from Zeus, her father, as he spoke with words meant for her ears. She strained to wrap her mind around his words, but they slipped through her thoughts like water. All she could muster was a smile, an unspoken plea for the gods to carry on, while she remained adrift in her own haze of contemplation.

As Thalia's uneasy thoughts swirled within, Artemis addressed the assembled demigods. Her voice cut through Thalia's fog of distraction. Thalia's gaze followed Artemis as the goddess stepped off her throne and spoke softly to Zeus. He listened intently and nodded his head ever so slightly. When Artemis returned to the forefront, Thalia's attention briefly sharpened. In that same moment, out of the corner of her eye she noticed Percy's color drain, leaving his face ghostly pale.

His complexion had completely changed, the color seemingly drained away by some inner dread. Percy leaned towards Annabeth, his voice barely a whisper through tight lips, "Annabeth," he murmured, "Don't."

Annabeth's brow furrowed, her expression a mirror of confusion. "What?"

The words tripped over themselves as Percy attempted to articulate his unease. "Look, I need to tell you something," he said, the urgency clear in his quiet voice.

"I couldn't stand it if… I don't want you to—"

Annabeth's concern deepened, reading the torment written across his features. "Percy?" she interjected. "You look like you're going to be sick."

"I shall have a new lieutenant," Artemis announced. "If she will accept it."

"No," Percy murmured.

"Annabeth, daughter of Athena. Will you join the Hunt?"

Annabeth stood, as time seemed to stop, amid the grandeur of the offer which echoed in her ears: a call to eternal life, free from the entanglements of affection that had so complicated her past. Her thoughts drifted to Luke. The pain of his betrayal burned into her soul as she remembered their battle with him not hours ago. The allure of the Hunters was not just immortality. It was the promise of detachment, an escape from the inevitable heartache that seemed to follow her like a shadow.

She looked at Percy with a heavy heart. Even as her affection for him had already begun to surface, she feared the cost of love and friendship. Fears of what more she might lose or who else might betray her pushed her into the sanctuary Artemis offered. She imagined a future free from the agony of watching another friend walk a darker path, free from the terror that she might, once more, be forced to stand against someone she cared for.

This moment of contemplation seemed to stretch on. Each tick of her heart was a heavy thud in the stillness of the throne room. The reaction from the gathered Olympians was immediate and palpable. The gods exchanged surprised and nervous glances, a silent acknowledgment rippling through their ranks. It was Thalia, the daughter of Zeus, standing on the brink of a destiny defined by prophecy, who they had assumed would be Artemis's chosen. But here, it was Annabeth choosing the path of the solitary moon. The gods' astonishment was clear in the sudden shuffle of movement.

Amidst this immortal inquiry, Annabeth's voice finally broke free, softer than she intended, "Yes," she whispered first to Percy, a silent apology in her gaze. Then louder, to the waiting goddess, "I will join the Hunt." Her decision was not a rejection of what she and Percy might have had, but a protective measure, a preemptive severing of ties still forming. It was her safeguard against future heartbreak.

Her acceptance rang out, striking a somber note that resounded through the throne room. Amid the silent chorus of surprise, Athena's composed face betrayed a hint of satisfaction. There was a subtle relaxation in her posture, a small yet significant signal of approval, while Percy's expression crumpled with a quiet devastation.

"I'm sorry Percy," Annabeth said. Her voice carried a quiet strength, but her eyes confessed the turmoil hidden beneath ."I can't risk more of this pain. This is the way I need to protect myself, and maybe by doing this I can protect all of you as well." Her words were decisive, yet a faint shadow of hesitation lingered.

Thalia, her body still reverberating with the aftermath of battle and heart heavy with recent loss, watched as Annabeth moved towards Artemis with resolute steps. As Annabeth began to recite the ancient oath that would bind her to the Hunt, a cold realization crept over Thalia like the onset of winter. This was it. The final door closing on her chance to sidestep the weighty prophecy that had long cast its shadow upon her future.

As Thalia listened to Annabeth recite the oath, she could almost feel the heavy cloak of the prophecy settle firmly on her shoulders, each word of the oath a weight, each pause a tightening knot. She stood rooted to the ground as she realized that she was to be the child of the prophecy, the one upon whose decisions the future of Olympus would hinge.

Thalia's gaze shifted to Percy, and in his eyes she recognized a reflection of her own inner turmoil. Percy, who had always rushed headfirst into danger with the confidence of the seas at his back, now seemed adrift and unmoored. Thalia could see it. The immense understanding crashing over him, wave after wave, leaving him to grapple with the stark reality that his future would not include Annabeth the way he had hoped.

Percy stood frozen in time, stilled by the gravity of the moment. The same shock that tightened Thalia's chest, constricting her breath as she fully absorbed the weight of being the one destined to either save or destroy Olympus, now mirrored in Percy's stance. They were both blindsided, her by the inescapable pull of destiny and him by the silent severing of possibilities of what could have been.

For a fleeting moment, Thalia felt an unexpected yet profound connection with Percy in their shared sense of shock. Their eyes met, and the unspoken message between them was as clear as the sky over Mount Olympus: they were both entering the unknown, pushed by the tides of fate into futures they hadn't chosen.

Percy turned away, his gaze falling to the marble stone beneath his feet. Thalia watched him closely, her heart aching for the friend who had stood by her side through storm and monster alike.

Artemis's voice rose, welcoming Annabeth to the Hunt and bringing Thalia's attention back to reality. Thalia's eyes observed Annabeth. A silver radiance seemed to enshroud her. Her friend, now sister to the moon was forever changed.

The resonance of Annabeth's oath lingered like a haunting melody in the great hall, her words binding her to a fate beyond mortality, and binding the fate of Olympus to Thalia. As Artemis returned to her throne, a subtle but definite shift occurred among the Olympians, their immortal attention tuned now to Thalia, whose very existence had become synonymous with the foretold time of conflict.

Athena's calculated voice pierced the quiet of the throne room. "We should reconsider the prior counsel Ares offered," she declared, her words were deliberate. "Removing Thalia may spare us from the destruction that the prophecy may bring. Her continued existence is a threat to us all."

Her assertion did not fall on deaf ears. In fact, it seemed to hang in the charged air of the throne room, a suggestion as dangerous as it was clear.

Before any of the other gods could say anything, Ares spoke up. "We've waited long enough with this girl. The fix is easy, remove the cause, remove the effect. We can stop the prophecy before it even starts."

Many gods, with their own divine sovereignty as well as the continuity of Olympus weighing heavily on their eternal shoulders, gave faint nods of concurrence with Athena's stark logic. They were beginning to realize that the time to act was now or never. Their quiet agreement was like an unseen frost spreading across the throne room, one that reached deep, sowing seeds of icy dread within Thalia.

Her heartbeat began to thunder in her ears, a relentless drumming that matched the growing fear in her chest. Panic, sinister and stealthy, began to worm its way into her. Unconsciously, she began to slowly retreat, each cautious step away from the thrones a silent plea for escape.

She felt Percy's presence closing the gap between them. His movements were subtle but unyielding. His hand slipped into his pocket, a covert but decisive gesture, as his fingers brushed against Riptide. Their eyes met across the chasm of dread that threatened to engulf Thalia. His eyes carried a profound and unspoken assurance that he would stand beside her, even against the overwhelming power of the twelve Olympic gods. Percy's nearness brought Thalia a measure of comfort as the growing fervor of the divine council inched towards Thalia's fate.

"Enough!" Zeus's voice was a clap of thunder, shaking the foundations of Olympus itself. He rose from his throne, no longer the sophisticated patriarch in a suit but now the God of the Sky in all his warlike glory. His Greek battle armor glistened with the sheen of countless battles, and the master bolt, a twenty-foot-long weapon of divine retribution, crackled with pure energy in his grasp. The brilliance of his eyes, glowing with the power of a thousand storms, cast stark shadows across the vast hall.

His command reverberated with the authority of his dominion over sky and kingship, leaving no room for debate or dissent. "We will not spill the blood of my daughter to forestall destiny," he decreed with irrefutable finality. "The prophecy will unfold as it must."

The assembled deities absorbed the immensity of his words. Their earlier concurrences diminished into a chastened quiet. The formidable master bolt, crackling with the potential to raze mountains and sear the skies, vanished from Zeus's hand as quietly as a whisper on the wind, signifying the end of his wrathful display. The brief tempest that had gripped the throne room at the notion of bloodshed against his lineage gave way to a serene but potent authority.

Zeus continued standing as his voice resonated throughout the throne room with the power of rolling thunder. "Perseus, Thalia," he began, fixing his gaze upon the two demigods who seemed to hold the weight of the impending prophecy on their young shoulders. "You must return to Camp Half-Blood without delay. The time to prepare is now; you are to ready the demigods for what is to come. Go forth with blessings of Olympus." He then turned, his eyes softening as they fell upon the Ophiotaurus, a silent figure amidst the tapestry of divinity. "As for this creature of prophecy," Zeus continued, "it shall remain under the watchful guard of Olympus, where it will be safe from harm. Here it will stay, under the protection of the gods." His decree left no room for doubt.

Zeus's attention shifted, his gaze coming to rest upon Grover, who stood with bated breath among the demigods. "Grover," he commanded, "You shall remain on Olympus for now, and assist us with the Ophiotaurus."

Zeus then turned towards the assembled gods, his expression resolute and commanding. "The hour draws near. Harden your defenses, marshal your followers, and secure your domains. Tomorrow, Thalia reaches the age foretold by the prophecy. Each of you has a role; see to it that you are ready. This counsel is adjourned."

The gods nodded in collective agreement, their faces filled with both determination and somber acceptance of what the future held. As the moment to depart arrived, each deity shimmered, their forms dissolving into luminous arrays of light, dispersing in a sequence as ancient as time itself, each bound for their own realm to carry out Zeus's orders.

Thalia raised her arms, shielding her eyes from the blinding brilliance that engulfed the throne room. It was as if the very essence of Olympus had ignited as an incandescent display of divine departure. Amidst the fading luminescence, as the chamber dimmed to its normal gleam, Thalia watch Percy as his searching gaze found Annabeth, already steps away but hesitating in her stride beside Artemis. She was moving away from the heart of the throne room, as if each step she took was a question rather than a decision.

Thalia's gaze lingered on Percy and Annabeth, witnessing the final exchange between them. From where she stood, she could see Annabeth pausing, turning back to lock eyes with Percy. In Annabeth's lingering look, Thalia could sense a torrent of unsaid words, a desperate wish to convey messages the swift tide of time wouldn't allow. When Annabeth turned away and disappeared from the throne room, Thalia felt a silent pain deep within herself as she realized that her closest friend would no longer be in her company. It all happened so fast that she didn't even get a chance to say goodbye.

Thalia and Percy turned to each other, the air around them charged with an unspoken tension that went beyond the uncertainty of prophecy. Their eyes met, and something unidentifiable flickered between them: a hint of mutual understanding, or perhaps the ember of a deeper connection being kindled by shared adversity.

Neither of them could find the words. They both looked defeated, vulnerable in a way that heroes seldom allowed themselves to be. It was Thalia who finally found a whisper of strength, "I guess we should get back to camp now." There was a lingering note in her voice, a quiet acknowledgement of the bond that was forming between them amidst the chaos.

As they turned to leave, their shoulders brushed lightly, a fleeting touch that sent a ripple of something that felt a bit like hope through the relentless march of duty and prophecy.

Chapter Text

The Unwanted Fate Arc II

The night had wrapped Camp Half-Blood in a chilling embrace, its cold seeping through even the sturdiest cabins. Thalia lay awake in her bed, tossing and turning, the blankets twisted around her as if to mirror her tangled thoughts. It was the night of her sixteenth birthday, each tick of the clock like a bell tolling her closer to a destiny she never wanted.

The cabin felt less like a sanctuary and more like a gilded cage, filled with reminders of her father—Zeus's symbols everywhere: a model of the master bolt, an eagle carved into the bedpost, the faint scent of ozone. They weren't comforts; they were symbols of a future that weighed heavily on her, written in the stars before she was even born. The air in the cabin pressed down on her, thick with expectation.

The vast hollow spaces around her echoed with silence; she was utterly alone in a shrine dedicated to a lineage that weighed on her like a burden. She could almost hear her heartbeat echoing in the oppressive darkness.

Restlessness gnawed at her core, an inescapable turbulence that finally drove her from bed. Seeking escape from the suffocating destiny enclosed within those four walls, she quietly slid from beneath her tangled covers. Wrapping a cloak around her shoulders more for illusionary comfort than warmth, Thalia resolved to find respite beneath the indifferent stars.

She moved toward the door, the cold floor grounding her resolve. A sharp gust of night air stole her breath as she stepped outside. If the cabin had been a cage, the outside was the wild domain of the elements, indifferent to her divine parentage. The chill cut through her cloak, but she leaned into it, refusing to retreat.

Her footsteps echoed in the still night as she hesitated—woods, training grounds, amphitheater—but none felt right. Drawn to the seashore, its vastness mirrored the uncertainty ahead. The wind whispered through the trees, carrying the distant lull of the sea, as if marking the end of her normalcy.

As she walked, the wind whispered through the leaves. The distant hush of the sea sounded like a lullaby for the impending end of her normalcy. Each step was an attempt to capture the moment before the world would know her not just as Thalia Grace, but as the pivot upon which fate would turn.

The shoreline stretched out before her like a dark canvas streaked with silver, the scent of the ocean thick in the air. The full moon hung above, a solitary eye watching with indifference. To Thalia, it felt as if the world had paused, waiting.

She tried to calm herself, syncing her breath with the rhythmic tides, imagining her fears sinking into the depths. But as she stood there, lost in thought, a silhouette appeared down the beach, cutting through her introspection.

A jolt of adrenaline shot through her as her muscles tensed, instinctively reaching for a weapon she hadn't brought. Could the prophecy be unfolding sooner than expected? She approached cautiously, but the figure's calm, familiar movements reassured her. As she drew closer, the moonlight revealed a softness around its edges.

"Percy?" she called out, her voice mingling with the wind, seeking confirmation.

As they drew nearer, the shadows fell away from the figure, and the features of Percy Jackson came into view, his posture relaxed yet his eyes reflecting the tumultuous sea before them. Relief washed over her, cool and swift as the waters, and she let out a small laugh—a laugh that sounded more like a release of the tension she'd been carrying. Whatever the night held, whatever the prophecy demanded, it hadn't begun yet. Here, now, it was just Percy, caught out in the night like herself.

"Thalia? What are you doing out here?" Percy's voice cut through the silence, tinged with the kind of weary curiosity that only another sleepless soul could understand.

Thalia managed a half-smile, resisting the chill that urged her to wrap her arms even tighter around herself. "I could ask you the same question," she retorted with a hint of her usual fire.

Percy's gaze lingered on the horizon where the sea met the sky in a dance of darkness. "I couldn't sleep. I just needed to get away from everything." He sighed, turning to look at Thalia, his eyes a storm that matched the night's tension. "The sea always helps quiet everything down for me, you know? It's just a part of who I am." A pause hung in the air as the sound of a crashing wave echoed throughout the shoreline. "I take it you couldn't sleep either?"

Drawing a deep breath, Thalia's reply seemed to mingle with the sigh of the tide. "The cabin was just... echoey tonight. Too much space for one person and too many reminders of . . . you know."

"The prophecy." Percy finished.

Thalia gave a defeated nod. She wrapped her arms around herself, but it was clear that the cold wasn't the only thing she was trying to fend off. "Turning sixteen isn't supposed to be this... awful," Thalia continued, the edge of humor in her voice as brittle as ice. "I'm supposed to worry about normal things like... I don't know, driver's licenses, prom, or even a math test for gods sake. Not about some stupid prophecy."

A small, understanding smile passed between them, a shared moment of dark comic relief amidst the gravity of their conversation. "Yeah," Percy agreed, "not many people have to worry about their birthday triggering world-changing events."

After Percy's acknowledgment, silence enveloped them. In the stillness, Thalia's worries and the weight of her fate hung in the chilly air. The brief light-heartedness that had eased the tension vanished, replaced by the cold reality pressing in on her.

The numbing cold enveloped them, and as Thalia looked out over the water, the frigid night seemed to press around her, and along with it the realization of her own fears.

As Thalia looked out over the water, the frigid night seemed to deepen her sense of unease. Standing on the shoreline with Percy felt almost preordained, as if the elements had conspired to bring them together for this moment. She wondered if their encounter was truly coincidence or an act of fate, drawing them both to this place.

Thalia trusted Percy, but opening up about her deepest fears felt like shedding armor, exposing a vulnerable part of herself. Yet, if fate had indeed brought them together tonight, perhaps there was strength in that vulnerability—a chance to share the burden she could no longer bear alone.

Her mind wrestled with the decision. To expose her hidden fears of dread that raged beneath her stoic exterior meant acknowledging them out loud, giving them form and sound: making them as real as the sand she stood on. But as she stood there, something shifted within her. If fate had truly brought them on this collision course tonight, then perhaps there was strength to be found in that vulnerability, a chance to share the burden that had become too heavy to carry alone.

"Percy," Thalia's voice cut through the silence, shakier than she intended. She looked at him, really looked at him, her electric blue eyes searching for reassurance. "I'm scared," she confessed, her voice barely a whisper. "The prophecy, turning sixteen... I don't think I can handle it."

The words hung in the air, raw and honest, carried by the wind. But Percy heard them, loud and clear.

His expression softened at Thalia's vulnerability, but his voice remained steady. "I've been with you since the day you came back from being a pine tree, Thalia. This prophecy doesn't change that," Percy said, his tone firm, cutting through the sound of the waves. "We've been through so much together. This is just another part of our story, and I know you've got this."

Thalia let herself relax, just a little, the tension easing as Percy's words sank in. Whatever was coming, she wouldn't have to face it alone

"The prophecy... what exactly does it say?" Percy asked, his question lingering in the cold air between them. "Whatever it is, we'll handle it together. But I need to know, Thalia, what we're up against."

Thalia hesitated, closing her eyes for a moment. She took a deep breath, the chill biting at her lungs. "It's too much to say right now," she admitted, her voice quieter as she met Percy's gaze. "Saying it out loud would just... make it worse."

Percy nodded slowly, understanding the weight of her silent burden. "You don't have to say it now. Whenever you're ready, I'm here," he said, his voice gentle and supportive.

Thalia's shoulders eased a bit more at Percy's acceptance. "Thank you," she murmured, feeling a warm flicker of solidarity amidst the cold. She took another deep breath, allowing herself to lean on the strength Percy offered. The silence between them was laden with unspoken understanding.

Percy's and Thalia's eyes met again, "How long have you known the words?" He asked.

"Chiron told me shortly after I came back from being a pine tree," Thalia responded. "It's been on my mind ever since."

"That's a long time to have that on your shoulders," Percy acknowledged, his voice full of empathy. He knew the burden of the relentless weight of a prophecy hanging over one's head, his eyes were filled with compassion as he watched Thalia look out over the dark ocean.

Thalia looked towards the sky, to her fathers domain. "I guess I always thought I'd find a way around it," she confessed, with the faintest hint of irony. "Joining the Hunters, or... something else. I don't know. I thought I could outrun it, outsmart it. That's why when Artemis asked Annabeth instead of me I was... shocked. Like my life had just ended."

Percy's reply came with a heavy sigh, resonating with a similar sense of resignation. "I guess that makes two of us." he acknowledged.

Thalia, despite her burdens and the ever-present shadow of her fate, saw the pain in Percy's eyes. It was a quiet kind of suffering, one that perhaps only those who had similarly loved and lost could recognize—a look that seemed to reach beyond the ocean's horizon.

"Hey," she started, her tone softer, shifted from her own woes to the empathy she held for her friend. "I'm sorry, Percy. You know, I could see how much you cared about her. I can only imagine what you're feeling." She paused, giving space for her words to settle.

"It must feel like the grounds been ripped out from under you," she continued, acknowledging the weight of his unspoken grief. "Annabeth made her choice to do what's best for her. But that doesn't make it sting any less. I miss her a lot too. Just knowing that she's not here. It hurts." Thalia's gaze locked with Percy's, mirroring a mix of compassion, pain, and understanding.

Percy's eyes lost their usual spark as he confided in Thalia. "I should have told her not to do it before we got to the throne room. I knew she was thinking about it. Maybe I could've changed her mind." He sighed, the weight of unspoken words heavy between them. "I really thought we'd have a future. But now that's never going to happen."

His admission hung in the cold night air, the sense of loss nearly tangible. Thalia let the silence linger, giving space for his pain before she spoke softly. "I don't know how, Percy, but it'll be okay. It's hard, losing someone like that, and not being able to stop it. I'm so sorry."

She scanned his face, noticing how the moonlight deepened the shadows of his frown. "Just know I'm here for you, like you're here for me."

Percy met her gaze. "Thanks, Thalia. Really." His sincerity warmed the space between them, and Thalia felt a flicker of comfort in the cold night.

They stood in silence again, the kind shared by those who understood each other's pain without words. Above them, the stars gave their distant comfort, while below, reality wrapped tightly around them. Two figures, bound together by shared grief.

As Thalia looked out over the waters, she realized they were both shivering—not just from emotional strain, but from the cold that had seeped into their bones. They had been exposed for too long, the chill settling into their skin.

"We can't stand here all night," Percy said, his voice barely above the sound of the waves. "It's only going to get colder." His words carried a reluctance to let the moment end.

Thalia felt it too, the cold echoing the isolation in her heart. The thought of returning to Zeus's cabin and its empty walls was unbearable. Her mind toyed with the idea of prolonging this unexpected comfort.

"Hey, so..." Thalia began cautiously. "I don't want this to come out the wrong way, but we don't have to go back to… being alone." Her voice carried an invitation to keep each other company, to fend off the solitude. Percy's slight shift, the loosening of his shoulders, encouraged her. "I just... I can't go back to Zeus's cabin right now. It's cold and empty. It reminds me of a fate I'm not ready to face."

Thalia saw in Percy's eyes a reflection of her own need for companionship. In the silence between them, she hoped he'd understand. Percy hesitated, his mind catching up with his heart. "So you want to..." he began, trailing off as realization dawned. Offering a small, sheepish smile, he said, "Yeah, we can... Poseidon's cabin is warm. We could go there, together, if you want."

Relieved, Thalia returned his smile. "That sounds good," she replied. They turned from the shore, their steps in sync as they headed toward Poseidon's cabin. The moonlight cast gentle shadows, the ocean's roar fading behind them, replaced by the quiet rustling of leaves. Despite the solemnity of the night, a subtle excitement stirred between them—an unspoken anticipation of warmth and companionship.

They walked in comfortable silence, the crunch of gravel underfoot a steady rhythm. Thalia glanced at Percy, his features softened in the moonlight, and felt a surge of gratitude.

Poseidon's cabin came into view—more modest than Zeus's, yet radiating a comforting warmth. The rough stone walls, embedded with seashells and coral, gave it an inviting, oceanic charm that embraced them as they approached.

Percy opened the door, hinges creaking softly, and gestured for Thalia to enter. Inside, warm air wrapped around her like a gentle ocean breeze. The scent of salt and seaweed filled her lungs, chasing away the chill that had settled in her bones.

The cabin's interior was a blend of nautical charm and coziness. Blue and green hues reflected the sea, and a fountain in the corner emitted a warm mist with the soft sound of trickling water. Hidden lights cast a shimmering glow, making the cabin feel like a serene underwater haven, far removed from the cold night outside.

Thalia sat on a bed, sinking into the soft mattress as the warmth chased away the lingering cold. Percy settled across from her, and with a sigh, Thalia said, "It feels like we've been going nonstop since Westover Hall."

Percy nodded, sitting up on his own bed across from her. "I hadn't even thought about that, but you're right. It feels like it was forever ago, but it's only been a few days," he replied, his tone reflecting a mix of disbelief and weariness.

Thalia smirked, a hint of her usual fire returning. "Only a few days since we almost killed each other during capture the flag," she quipped, her eyes sparkling with a touch of humor.

Percy let out a little laugh, the sound lightening the mood and easing some of the tension that had settled between them. "Yeah, a lot has changed since then," he agreed, his tone becoming more reflective. "We've all been through a lot. You more than anyone."

Thalia shook her head slightly, her smirk softening into a more serious expression. "I don't know about that, Percy. You literally held up the sky. Not even half a day ago. I mean... that's incredible. Most people would have been crushed instantly."

Percy's face grew solemn as he acknowledged Thalia's comment, his eyes distant as if he were reliving the experience. The weight of that moment seemed to settle over him again, a reminder of the immense burden he had carried.

Thalia, sensing the gravity of his thoughts, leaned forward slightly. "What was it like? To hold up the sky?"

Percy took a deep breath, "I... can't explain it. It was like... every muscle in my body burst into fire. Like... all of my bones were being melted right there. It was awful."

"But you did it." Thalia said with awe before Percy could get lost in the painful memories of the experience. Her eyes looked intently at him. "What kept you going?"

Percy took a deep breath, his eyes reflecting a mix of determination and vulnerability. "Knowing that I wasn't alone. That you, Annabeth, or Zoë would have taken my place in an instant if you had the chance. Knowing that you were all counting on me and needed me. Just as much as I was counting on all of you."

Thalia's eyes softened. "That's so selfless, Percy." She looked down, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "Honestly, it would be better for everyone if you were the child of the prophecy. I'm not as selfless as you are. That's what I'm worried about—that when it comes down to it, I won't make the selfless choice. And that wrong choice will cause the fall of Olympus."

Percy's eyes filled with unwavering support, "Don't say that, Thalia. You're more selfless than anyone in this camp. Who was the demigod that made a final stand so her friends could cross the camp border safely?"

Thalia's mind flashed back to that fateful day, remembering her sacrifice so that Luke and Annabeth could get safely into camp. She had put herself in harm's way to protect her friends. The memory was vivid, as if it had just happened.

Percy's voice was steady. "You've already proven your selflessness, Thalia. You've made hard choices before, and you'll do it again. I don't doubt that for a second. I'll be right beside you, from when you turn sixteen until the prophecy is over."

Thalia's eyes widened at the mention of her birthday. She had been so engrossed in their conversation that time had slipped away. Suddenly, an urgency gripped her, and she glanced around the room, searching for a clock. Spotting Percy's digital clock on the nightstand, she rushed over. The glowing red numbers read 12:17.

The realization hit her like a tidal wave. The prophecy, the fears, the expectations—all converged at once. Thalia Grace had turned sixteen. The prophecy was now in motion.

Frozen for a moment, she let the significance sink in. The prophecy had always been a looming threat, but now it was real, immediate. Her heart pounded. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself, but the weight of it was overwhelming.

"I'm sixteen," she whispered in disbelief.

Percy quickly moved to her side, his voice calm and soothing. "Hey, it's okay. You're going to be alright," he said, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

Thalia's wide eyes met his. "Do you feel any different?" Percy asked, hoping to calm her racing mind.

She took a shaky breath. "I... I don't know," she whispered. "It's just... it's real now. The prophecy. Everything."

"But not right now," Percy reassured her. "Just because you turned sixteen doesn't mean it'll happen immediately. You'll have time to prepare. Your birthday just confirms what you've known all along. You'll be alright."

Thalia took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his words sink in. Her racing thoughts began to slow, and the tightness in her chest eased. Percy noticed the change, the steadiness in her breathing, and offered a reassuring smile. "You're still Thalia Grace."

"You're right, Percy." Thalia let out a small, relieved laugh. "Are you sure you're not the god of therapy's son?" she asked, her tone slightly joking. "Because you've been a huge help tonight."

Percy chuckled, shaking his head. "Nope, just the son of Poseidon," he replied with a grin. "You haven't been too bad yourself."

Thalia smiled, feeling the tension in her shoulders ease. Warmth spread through her—not just from the cabin's coziness, but from Percy's presence. They both returned to their beds, and the weight of the prophecy felt a little lighter. Thalia glanced at Percy, her smile lingering, grateful for their unexpected connection.

They talked for a while longer, their conversation shifting to lighter topics. The heaviness of destiny and prophecy faded, replaced by laughter and the comfort of friendship. They talked for a while longer, their conversation shifting to lighter topics. The heaviness of destiny and prophecy faded, replaced by laughter and the comfort of friendship. Every now and then, their eyes would meet and linger just a moment longer than usual, a subtle connection that neither fully acknowledged but both felt. Though exhausted, they stayed awake, reluctant to let the night end, savoring the peace and connection between them. It was a surprising bond, carrying an undercurrent of something deeper.

Eventually, Thalia let out a small yawn and stretched. "I really need to get some sleep," she admitted, her voice tinged with reluctance. "But I... don't want to go back to Zeus's cabin. It's freezing outside... And I don't want to ruin all the comfort I've felt tonight by leaving."

Percy nodded, understanding her hint. Their eyes locked, and for a moment, the room seemed to grow even quieter. The connection between them felt palpable, a silent understanding passing between their gazes. Percy felt a flutter in his chest, a mix of protectiveness and something deeper.

"You can stay here," he offered, his voice gentle. "There's plenty of room, and it's warm."

Thalia smiled, her eyes reflecting gratitude and a hint of something more. "Thanks, Percy. I appreciate it. Everything. This night was going to be the worst one of my life," she admitted softly, "I'm thankful you were here for me."

She settled back into the bed. The warmth of Poseidon's cabin and the comfort of Percy's presence made her feel safe and at ease.

Percy watched her for a moment, his heart swelling with a mix of emotions. "I'm thankful you were here for me too," he said quietly, his voice filled with sincerity.

They both lay down, adjusting to get comfortable. The room was peaceful, broken only by the gentle sound of the fountain. Percy turned off the lights, leaving only the soft, sea-like glow from the fountain to cast a serene light over the space. As they settled in, the warmth of the cabin and each other's presence wrapped around them like a comforting blanket, easing them in a way they hadn't felt in a long time.

"Oh, and Percy?" Thalia's voice broke the comfortable silence.

"Yeah?" Percy responded, turning his head slightly in her direction.

"Could you set the alarm for 4:45?" she asked, her tone a bit hesitant.

"Why so early?" Percy asked.

"I don't want anyone seeing me come out of your cabin in the morning." Thalia explained, her voice dropping to a whisper.

"Right," Percy replied, understanding dawning on him. They couldn't see each other, but they both blushed at the implication.

As Thalia closed her eyes, a sense of safety and warmth enveloped her, and she felt a quiet happiness settle in her heart. The night had brought unexpected comfort, and as she drifted off to sleep, the burdens of the prophecy seemed just a little lighter, the future just a little less daunting. As long as the green eyed son of Poseidon was close to her, she thought as she drifted off to sleep, everything would be okay.

Chapter Text

The Unwanted Fate Arc III

Thalia found herself back on Mount Othrys, reliving her fierce battle with Luke. The air was thick with tension, the clash of her spear against Luke's sword echoing like distant thunder. The scene felt both vivid and surreal, as if she were watching herself from afar yet fully immersed in the moment. Shadows danced unnaturally, and the colors seemed more intense, almost too alive.

She saw herself facing Luke, her once friend, now turned enemy. His face was a blend of betrayal and sorrow, and the sight of him filled her with a mix of anger and sadness. His eyes seemed to glow with an otherworldly light, and his movements were both fluid and disjointed, like a puppet on invisible strings. As they fought, her storm of emotions intensified, lightning striking the ground around them, leaving ghostly afterimages in its wake.

As they fought, the personal storm around the two of them intensified. Her unbridled anger and immense hurt for the loss of her once friend caused lightning to strike the ground around them, each bolt leaving behind a lingering, ghostly afterimage. Thalia's heart pounded as the dreadful memory took hold—she was on the verge of kicking Luke off the cliff. The overwhelming guilt washed over her, as the memory of his fall replayed in relentless loops, each time stabbing her heart. The ground beneath her felt unstable, ready to crumble beneath her feet.

Thalia suddenly found herself holding her spear to Luke's throat as he stood on the edge of a cliff. Annabeth's voice cut through the air, echoing unnaturally as if coming from all directions at once, yelling at Thalia not to kill Luke. But Thalia's anger flared.

"He's a traitor, Annabeth!" Thalia yelled back, her voice shaking with emotion. Annabeth said something else, but Thalia couldn't hear her over her own overwhelming emotions. In that moment of distraction, she let her guard down.

Luke seized the opportunity and reached for Thalia's spear. Instinctively, Thalia kicked him away, her foot connecting with his chest. Luke lost his footing and began to fall back off the cliff. She reached out to save him, but it was too late. Thalia watched in horror as he plummeted into the abyss, his eyes locked on hers until he disappeared from sight.

Thalia stood frozen, trembling as tears streamed down her face, reliving the awful moment. The world around her seemed to slow, the landscape blurring as colors drained away, swallowed by deepening shadows. Slowly, the darkness lifted, replaced by a dim, oppressive twilight. The scene shifted, and she found herself on a desolate Olympus, the haunting memory of Luke's fall weighing heavily on her.

Thalia found herself standing on a desolate battlefield outside the Olympic throne room, the ground littered with broken weapons and fallen demigods. The sky above was a swirling mass of dark clouds, and lightning crackled ominously. A fierce storm raged, the wind howling like a chorus of tormented souls. She felt a sense of foreboding, as if something monumental was about to happen.

In the distance, Thalia spotted a shadowy figure holding a glowing, eerie weapon. A chill ran down her spine—she instinctively knew it was a great threat, likely Kronos. As she cautiously moved closer, she noticed a broken statue of Zeus, its shattered pieces scattered across the ground, filling her with dread.

Suddenly, the figure of Kronos vanished, and Luke appeared beside her, his presence both comforting and unsettling. Thalia glanced around and saw the gods—Zeus, Athena, Poseidon—all wounded and weakened, scattered across the battlefield. Their eyes were filled with desperation, their divine power diminished. They looked to her for help.

Luke's voice was calm but cutting. "Do you understand now, Thalia? These gods, who now beg for your help, once debated your death to avoid your prophecy. They don't care about us. Where were they when we were alone? Your father abandoned you when you sacrificed yourself to save Annabeth and me. Do they deserve your loyalty?"

His words hit hard. Thalia looked back at the gods, helpless on the ground, as Luke's message sank in. She turned to respond, but Luke had vanished.

The memories flooded back—vivid and painful. She recalled the recent council where the gods coldly debated her fate, nearly voting to kill her to avoid the prophecy. The calculating looks on their faces, treating her like a mere pawn in their celestial game, cut deep. It felt like a fresh wound, their detached voices still echoing in her mind as they weighed her life against their fears.

She looked back on her life, recalling the hopeless, solitary years sustained only by Luke's support and her determination to protect Annabeth. Luke had been right—the gods were never there when they needed help. The three of them had spent years on the run, without divine intervention. She shuddered at the memory of holding off monsters, buying time for Luke and Annabeth to reach safety. No gods came to save her; the only help she received was being turned into a tree, a bitter mockery of her struggle.

Anxiety flooded her as the gods' betrayal reignited a surge of anger, threatening to burn away any remaining loyalty. The gods, once omnipotent and revered, now lay broken and desperate at her feet. Their eyes, once commanding, were filled with fear. The weight of their past betrayals pressed down on her, fueling her desire for justice. Yet a small voice urged her to rise above their cruelty, to choose mercy. Torn between walking away and saving them—not for their sake, but for her own pride—she struggled with the choice.

In an act of defiance, Thalia turned her back on the ruined Olympus and the wounded gods pleading for her help. Each step felt like a betrayal of her own principles, but the weight of their past actions pressed heavily on her heart. She knew it was wrong, yet their years of indifference had shattered her loyalty.

As she walked away, she saw Luke in the distance. His form twisted and shifted, transforming into the menacing figure of Kronos. A chilling laugh erupted from him, echoing through the dream. The gods' desperate cries grew louder, filled with anguish and despair.

Thalia tried to stop, to turn back, but her body moved against her will, drawn closer to Kronos. Her eyes widened in horror as the realization hit—she had made the wrong choice. It was too late. She had failed the gods, failed the prophecy. Desperation clawed at her as she struggled against the force pulling her forward, her heart pounding with fear and regret. The gods' anguished pleas faded, drowned out by Kronos's malevolent presence.

The scene around her dissolved into complete darkness, the gods' voices silenced. Only Kronos's voice remained, echoing through the void. "You were always destined to fail," he said, his tone dripping with malevolent satisfaction. The words lingered ominously, filling the emptiness as his presence closed in.

With every fiber of her being, Thalia fought to wake up, but she couldn't. She could feel Kronos's breath on her neck, his presence looming, as if he were right behind her. The weight of his malevolence pressed in, trapping her in the nightmare.

Thalia jolted awake with a scream, shattering the silence of the night. Her body was drenched in sweat, her heart pounding like a war drum. She sat up, gasping for breath, eyes wide with panic as the darkness around her deepened her fear. Clutching her chest, she struggled to steady her racing heart, but the nightmare's vivid images and chilling words lingered, leaving her trembling.

Within moments, Percy was at her side, Riptide glowing faintly in the dark. "Thalia, what happened?" he asked, scanning the room before kneeling next to her. "Are you okay?"

Thalia took a deep breath. "I'm fine," she said shakily. "Just a bad dream."

Percy frowned, not convinced. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Thalia hesitated, then nodded slightly. "It was about the prophecy... and Kronos. It felt so real."

Percy's expression grew serious. "What did you see?"

"I can't... not now. It's too much."

Percy nodded and put Riptide down, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Whenever you're ready. I'm here."

Thalia managed a small smile. "Thanks, Percy. I just need some time."

"Get some rest. I'll keep watch," Percy said, smirking to lighten the mood.

Thalia lay back down, still restless. "Percy, how do you deal with nightmares?"

"I remind myself they're just dreams," Percy said, his voice soft. "And I focus on the people who are here for me. It helps to know I'm not alone."

Thalia nodded. "You're right. Thanks, Percy."

"Always," he replied with a reassuring smile.

As Percy settled back into his position, Thalia lay back down, staring at the ceiling. The dream had felt so real, every detail etched into her mind. The images of the gods, broken and pleading, haunted her. The memory of Kronos's voice, dripping with malevolence, sent shivers down her spine.

Thalia's thoughts turned to Luke and his deep resentment toward the gods, feeling abandoned and betrayed by their indifference. She understood his bitterness; the gods often treated their children like pawns. Unease crept in as she realized her own loyalty to the gods wasn't as solid as she once believed, and the implications of this filled her with dread. What did it mean for her, for Olympus, and for the prophecy?

Despite her fear of the dream returning, exhaustion pulled at her. Reluctantly, she closed her eyes, hoping for peace, even as the echoes of her nightmare lingered.

Thalia jolted awake, this time to the blaring sound of the camp horn, signaling the start of the day for all the campers. She groggily looked around, realizing she was still in Percy's cabin. The morning sun slanted through the cabin windows. Percy, still half-asleep, looked over at his alarm clock, wondering why it hadn't gone off so Thalia could sneak out before the day began. As he inspected it, he saw that it was inexplicably set for 4:45 PM instead of AM.

"Percy, seriously?" Thalia groaned, her voice tinged with a mix of exasperation and lingering unease from the night's dream.

Percy rubbed his eyes and muttered, "I need more sleep."

Thalia managed a small, tired smile. "Me too," she said, shaking off the remnants of her nightmare as best as she could. She glanced at the clock and sighed. "How did you even manage to set it for 4:45 PM?"

Percy blinked at the clock, his brain still foggy with sleep. "I don't know. I guess I was more tired than I thought."

Thalia chuckled softly, the sound helping to dispel some of the lingering tension. "Well, at least we didn't sleep through the entire day."

Percy stretched and yawned, his eyes finally starting to focus. "Yeah, that would've been bad. Chiron would've gotten so mad."

Thalia nodded as she looked around uneasily. "I guess we should get out of here."

Percy's face mirrored her seriousness as he nodded in agreement. "Right. And we need to do it without being seen. The last thing we need is rumors."

Thalia sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Yeah, I don't want to deal with that. How are we going to do this? Everyone's probably walking out right now."

Percy thought for a moment. "We'll go one at a time. I'll go first, make sure no one's watching, then signal you. We should meet at the Big House to talk to Chiron. I don't know about you, but I'd rather go see him right away. I don't have much of an appetite, and we could use his help figuring out what comes next."

Thalia nodded. "Alright, let's do it."

Percy quickly put on his shoes and jacket, pausing at the door to listen. "Okay, I'm going," he whispered, giving her a reassuring nod.

He stepped out casually, like it was just another morning. Thalia watched through the door crack, heart pounding, until he signaled it was safe. Taking a deep breath, she slipped outside, the cool air waking her as she carefully avoided attention.

The early morning light cast long shadows over Camp Half-Blood, where campers were beginning their day. The sight of them chatting and laughing stirred a longing for a normalcy Thalia had never experienced. As she made her way toward the Big House, her mind wandered to the past—years of fear, running from monsters, and clinging to Luke and Annabeth like family.

Lost in thought, Thalia reached the Big House and paused at the steps, trying to steady herself. The weight of her responsibilities pressed heavily on her. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to focus on the present.

As she climbed the steps, she spotted Percy leaning casually against the porch railing, the wood creaking slightly under him. His expression was serious but softened with relief when he saw her. They exchanged a brief, reassuring glance.

"Long time no see," Percy joked, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"Ha ha," Thalia replied sarcastically, though a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. Percy's humor, despite everything, was a welcome distraction.

Together, they walked into the Big House, their footsteps echoing softly on the wooden floor. The familiar scent of old books and herbs filled the air, comforting in its familiarity. Chiron was waiting for them in his office, the door slightly ajar, surrounded by shelves of ancient scrolls and artifacts. As they entered, Chiron looked up, his face brightening with relief.

"Thalia, Percy! I'm so glad to see you both safe," Chiron exclaimed, standing up from behind his desk. "I've been anxiously waiting for your return. When did you get back to camp?"

"We got in late," Thalia replied, her voice steady but weighed down. "We didn't want to wake anyone, so we waited until this morning."

Chiron's expression faltered as he noticed no one else was with them. "Where are the others?" he asked, concern creeping into his voice. "Annabeth, Grover, Bianca, and Zoe?"

Percy took a deep breath. "Annabeth joined the Hunt with Artemis. She's safe, but she won't be coming back for a while."

Chiron's eyes widened with surprise, but he nodded. "And Grover?"

"He's on Olympus, helping with the Ophiotaurus and whatever Zeus needs."

Relief flickered across Chiron's face, but his tone grew heavy. "Dare I ask where Zoe Nightshade and Bianca Di Angelo are?"

Thalia stepped forward, her voice trembling. "Zoe didn't make it. She died fighting Atlas. She was so brave, Chiron. She gave everything to protect us." She hesitated, then added, "Bianca... she didn't make it either. She sacrificed herself to save us."

Chiron closed his eyes, the weight of the loss heavy on him. When he spoke again, his voice was steady but filled with sorrow. "Zoe and Bianca were extraordinary. Their bravery is beyond words." He looked at Percy and Thalia with a warm smile. "I'm glad you two are safe."

After a pause, he gently asked, "Now, tell me about your quest."

Percy and Thalia exchanged glances before taking turns recounting their journey. Thalia began, detailing their trek across the country, battling skeletal warriors and the Nemean Lion. Percy described the Hoover Dam and their fight with the Erymanthian Boar, while Thalia spoke of the tense moments at the junkyard of the gods, where Bianca made her fateful decision. They both recounted the final confrontation on Mount Othrys, where Zoe fell fighting Atlas, and how they freed Artemis and Annabeth. When Thalia couldn't explain her battle with Luke, Percy stepped in to finish the story.

Chiron was silent for a moment, absorbing their words. "You've both been through so much," he said, his voice a blend of sorrow and pride. "The challenges you faced were immense, and the losses, heartbreaking. But you've shown incredible bravery. Zoe and Bianca's sacrifices were not in vain—their legacy lives on through your actions."

Turning to Thalia, Chiron's expression softened. "Thalia, today is your sixteenth birthday, a significant day for all of us. The prophecy is now in motion. How are you holding up with all of this?"

Thalia let out an anxious laugh, her eyes reflecting the turmoil within. "Honestly, Chiron, it doesn't feel real. I never thought this day would come, and now that it's here, I don't feel ready at all."

Chiron nodded; his expression filled with empathy. "It's completely understandable to feel that way, Thalia. No one can ever truly be ready for something like this. But remember, you've already shown incredible strength and courage. You've faced challenges that would break most people, and you've come through them. It's okay to feel overwhelmed. The prophecy is daunting, but we are all here right next to you."

Thalia gave a sincere smile appreciation as Chiron continued.

"The second Titan war is at our doorsteps. Kronos's first strike will surely be here."

"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. And we will. However there –"

Before Chiron could continue there was a knock on the door, before anyone could respond, the door swung open, and Nico burst in, his face lit up with excitement.

"Hey! I heard you all came back from the quest! Where's… where's my sister?" Nico asked, his eyes scanning the room eagerly.

The room fell silent, heavy with unspoken grief. Nico's smile faded as he sensed the tension. Percy and Chiron exchanged a somber glance, and Thalia saw the wave of emotions in Percy's eyes.

"Hey, Nico," Percy said, rising from his chair. "Let's take a walk, okay? We need to talk."

Thalia watched as Percy gently led Nico out of the room, the door closing softly behind them. She could see the confusion and worry on Nico's face, and her heart ached for him. The silence that followed felt suffocating, amplifying her own fears and guilt for the news Nico was about to hear.

After they left the room, Thalia turned back to Chiron, Thalia took a deep breath, steadying herself. "Chiron, there's something else I need to talk to you about," she began, her voice trembling. "I had a dream last night. It felt so real, like a warning. Kronos was there, and... Luke."

Chiron's eyes filled with concern as he listened. "Tell me about your dream, Thalia. Every detail could be important."

Thalia recounted her dream, her voice trembling as she described the haunting images and Kronos's menacing voice. She spoke of wounded gods, pleading for her help, their divine forms broken and desperate. She explained how she turned away from them, refusing to give aid. Then she mentioned Luke, his presence disturbingly real, and how she couldn't shake the feeling that he was still alive.

"I'm worried, Chiron," she whispered. "I'm worried that when the time comes, I'll betray the gods. The dream felt like a warning, and I don't know if I'm strong enough to fight these feelings of resentment I have towards them."

Chiron listened thoughtfully, his expression compassionate. When she finished, he took a deep breath and spoke, his voice calm and wise. "Thalia, the gods are not perfect. I've lived long enough to see their flaws. They can be capricious, selfish, even cruel. But it's these imperfections that make them relatable, allow us to understand their struggles. Like us, they falter and seek redemption. We can learn from their mistakes and strive to be better."

He leaned forward, his tone more earnest. "You are in a unique position. The prophecy places you at a crossroads, giving you the power to influence the gods themselves. Perhaps being the child of prophecy is your chance to guide them, to help them change for the better. Your actions can set an example, showing them a path of honor and integrity. This isn't just a burden—it's a chance to make a profound difference."

Thalia leaned forward, her mind making connections she had never thought of before.

He paused, allowing his words to sink in before continuing. "Kronos is cunning and manipulative. He will try to tempt you, to sway you, and to manipulate you through your dreams and fears. He knows your strengths and your weaknesses, and he will exploit them to his advantage. But you must remember that you have the power to resist him. You must put your fatal flaw aside and look for the good in the gods. They are not perfect, but they are not beyond redemption. They have fought for this world, and they need you to stand with them."

"Chiron," she began hesitantly, "I've… never really thought about it. What is my fatal flaw? How can I guard against it if I don't know what it is?"

Chiron's expression softened, his gaze filled with empathy and understanding. "Discovering your fatal flaw is a journey you must undertake yourself. It will be more profound and meaningful if you come to understand it on your own. Reflect on your actions, your desires, and your fears. Look within yourself and you will find the answer. This self-awareness will be your greatest strength in overcoming it."

Thalia sat back, letting Chiron's words wash over her. "Thank you, Chiron." She said quietly, her voice filled with gratitude. "I'll take your advice to heart."

Chiron smiled warmly, his eyes filled with pride. "You have the heart of a true hero, Thalia. Always remember, you are not alone. We are all here to support you."

Thalia smiled before saying, "I'm going to go check on Percy and Nico. I think they could use some help. You've been so helpful, Chiron, really."

Chiron nodded, and Thalia stood, pausing briefly at the door to take one last look at his reassuring smile. It gave her the strength she needed. Stepping outside, the cool morning air embraced her as she gazed over Camp Half-Blood. The sun bathed the landscape in golden light, filling her with a renewed sense of duty to protect this place and its people. Chiron's words echoed in her mind as she whispered, "I can do this."

Scanning the camp for Percy and Nico, her eyes landed on the hill where her pine tree stood. She noticed two figures near it and headed up the hill, unease creeping in. As she neared, the figures disappeared behind the tree. A cold shiver ran down her spine, but she pressed on, her steps cautious, senses on high alert. The familiar path now felt strangely ominous.

As she reached the top of the hill, Thalia called out softly, "Percy? Nico?" No answer. Her unease grew as she called again, a little louder, but only silence responded. Moving cautiously around the large pine tree, her senses heightened, she felt a wave of dread hit her.

They weren't her friends. The four surviving skeletons that had hunted them before stood before her, their hollow eye sockets fixed on her. One clutched the Golden Fleece, its radiant glow contrasting sharply with their dark, bony forms. Without warning, the skeleton holding the Fleece turned and ran, while the others raised their weapons, glinting in the dappled sunlight. The dragon, Peleus, was nowhere in sight.

Thalia's heart raced. She was alone, far from the safety of camp. Activating her shield and spear, she braced herself. The skeletons advanced in eerie synchronization, their bones clattering in the still morning air. With fear and determination coursing through her, Thalia charged forward, knowing that everything depended on her next actions.

Chapter Text

The Unwanted Fate Arc IV

The winter sun was already setting when Percy Jackson reached Thalia's pine. She hadn't been seen for hours. At first, Percy thought she just needed some space after everything that had happened, but when she didn't show up for dinner, he knew something was wrong.

Before heading out, Percy had spoken with Chiron, who, despite his usual calm, showed a rare hint of concern. The camp had quickly organized a search party. Demigods were sent in every direction—into the forest, along the shoreline, and around the camp's borders—hoping to find any sign of Thalia.

Standing by the pine tree, Percy's heart raced as he scanned the area. He wouldn't have been so worried if it wasn't Thalia's sixteenth birthday, but her disappearance filled him with dread. Something was definitely wrong.

With growing urgency, Percy inspected the ground around the tree. His heart sank when he spotted a scrap of black fabric nearby. It was from a jacket—Thalia's jacket. The torn and abandoned fabric sent a chill through him. Whatever had happened, it was more serious than he'd feared.

Percy scanned the area for more clues, his eyes carefully sweeping the forest floor. Moving cautiously away from the pine tree, he hoped for any additional sign of what had happened. Not far off, he spotted a trail of broken branches scattered on the ground.

Following the trail, Percy's apprehension grew as he noticed signs of a struggle. Broken branches, kicked-up dirt, and sword marks on nearby tree trunks painted a picture of a fierce confrontation. The deeper he ventured, the more evidence he found—shredded fabric and scorched foliage from electricity littered the path.

Each clue pulled him further from the safety of camp and deeper into the woods. The signs of the battle grew more spread out, making Percy realize the fight had been distant enough to go unnoticed by anyone nearby. Every step seemed to heighten the eerie isolation as he pressed on, hoping to uncover more about what had happened to Thalia.

As the evidence of the fight became more scattered, Percy's fear grew that he had lost the trail entirely. Just as doubt began to creep in, his eyes caught on something half-buried in the underbrush. With a mix of hope and dread, he approached and realized it was Thalia's mace canister—the one that transformed into her spear. His heart sank at the thought of Thalia being separated from her weapon.

He picked it up, the cold metal pressing against his skin, and glanced around uneasily. Clutching the canister tightly, Percy began walking through the forest, his voice breaking the stillness. "Thalia!" he called, his words echoing faintly in the quiet. He paused, listening, but heard only the rustle of leaves. His urgency grew. "Thalia, it's Percy! Can you hear me?!"

Each shout faded into the silence, deepening his concern. Then, a sudden snap of a twig nearby made him freeze. His heart pounded as he whipped toward the sound. The forest seemed to hold its breath, the silence almost suffocating. Percy stood still, waiting, but the only answer was the soft whisper of the wind through the trees.

Still on high alert, Percy walked a bit further, eventually stumbling into a clearing. His breath caught as he saw Thalia lying motionless on the forest floor. Her clothes were torn, and there were visible wounds and bruises marking her skin.

Percy's heart pounded as he rushed over to Thalia and knelt beside her. He gently shook her shoulder, trying to rouse her. "Thalia, are you okay?" he asked, his voice tight with worry. His eyes searched up and down her torn clothes and the numerous scratches and cuts covering her body.

Thalia stirred slightly at Percy's touch, her eyes fluttering open. She looked up at him, her gaze unfocused but filled with a flicker of recognition.

"Percy..." she whispered, her voice weak.

"Thalia, what happened?" Percy asked urgently, his hands gently brushing her hair from her face.

Thalia winced as she talked, "The skeletons. They never stopped chasing us." Her blue eyes, though dimmed by fatigue flashed with frustration. "One of them had the Golden Fleece. I tried to stop them. But they were… too much. They got it." She paused, catching her breath, and then shifted slightly trying to ease the discomfort.

Percy's eyes widened. "The Golden Fleece? They took it?"

Thalia nodded weakly. "Yeah. They took it. They were about to finish me off. But then... I don't know why, but they didn't. They just left me here." Her eyes grew distant as she struggled to recall the details. "They... they seemed to know exactly what they were doing. I don't know why they didn't kill me."

Thalia winced with each movement. "I've been in and out of consciousness. I think my leg is broken. Every time I tried moving the pain was too much." She looked up at Percy with a pained expression as she noted the setting sun. "Have I really been gone the whole day?"

Percy's face tightened with concern as he listened to Thalia while inspecting her leg. The area was swollen and discolored. Her leg was bent at a slight unnatural angle. Her jeans were torn and stained, revealing deep stripes of red on her skin. Percy sighed as he responded. "No one's seen you for a while. We got the whole camp trying to find you."

Acting quickly, he removed his jacket to use as a makeshift bandage. Gently, he wrapped the fabric around her leg, securing it with careful, steady hands. Thalia winced slightly with each adjustment, but she bore it with quiet resilience.

Thalia looked up at him,. "This has to be the worst birthday ever," she said. "I don't think it can get any worse."

Percy, trying to inject a bit of humor into the tense moment, and being visibly relieved that Thalia was alive, gave a slight smile. "Well it's not over yet."

"Very funny." Thalia responded.

"We need to get you back to camp," Percy said. "If you can't walk I think I'll just have to carry you."

Thalia looked at him with a stubborn set to her jaw. "Percy, I can't just let you carry me. I-"

Percy cut her off gently but firmly. "You're not going to be able to walk. And I don't want to leave you by yourself in case any more danger comes. It's the only way to get you back quickly and safely."

Thalia's eyes flashed with frustration. "I appreciate the offer, but I'll be ok until you come back."

"I'm not leaving you alone out here," Percy insisted, cutting through her protests. "Right now, the most important thing is getting you back to safety. You can't argue with that."

Thalia's gaze softened slightly, though she still looked conflicted. "Fine. But you have to be careful with my leg. I don't want to make it any worse."

Percy nodded. "I'll be as careful as I can. We need to get moving. I heard some noise in the forest earlier. I don' think we're alone."

Thalia nodded and braced herself as Percy carefully positioned himself. He slipped one arm under her shoulders and the other under her knees, lifting her gently but steadily. Thalia winced as he adjusted her position.

"Ready?" Percy asked.

Thalia took a deep breath and nodded. "Yeah, just... take it slow. My leg feels like it's on fire."

Percy adjusted his grip to support her broken leg as best as he could and began making his way through the forest. Thalia clung to him, her head resting against his shoulder. Despite her pain, she managed to ask, "How's Nico?"

Percy sighed, "He got really angry and ran off. I tried to follow him, but he slipped away into the forest." He hesitated before continuing, his voice filled with uncertainty. "I think Nico might be a son of Hades."

Thalia's eyes widened in surprise. "What do you mean?"

"When talking to him I gave him that figurine Bianca found in the junkyard. He threw it on the ground before he ran away. When I looked at it, I realized it was a statute of Hades. It struck me how much the two resemble each other."

"Are you sure?"

Percy shook his head, his voice filled with uncertainty. "I don't know, but I have a strong feeling that he might be. If Nico is really a son of Hades, maybe it's for the best that he left. Maybe time away will help him discover who he really is. He might not feel like he belongs here if I'm right."

"Let's hope you're wrong this time, like usual. I'd like to think things aren't as complicated as they seem." Despite her attempt at humor, her voice was strained, and her expression was weary.

Percy carried Thalia through the forest with steady, deliberate steps, careful to avoid jostling her injured leg. The rest of the journey back to camp was quiet. Thalia's head continued to rest against his shoulder, and though she was silent, her occasional winces spoke volumes about her discomfort.

When they finally reached the camp's borders, Percy felt a wave of relief. The sight of the familiar campgrounds was a welcome reassurance. He made his way directly to the Big House, the building looming ahead like a beacon of safety. As they approached the entrance, Percy carefully carried Thalia up the steps and through the door.

Percy spotted Chiron inside and got his attention. "Chiron! I found Thalia. She's hurt badly."

Chiron's expression filled with worry as he saw Thalia's condition. "Let's go to the infirmary." he said urgently as the three of them walked over. Once they reached the infirmary, Chiron gestured for Percy to carefully place Thalia on one of the beds. Chiron's gaze shifted between Thalia and Percy, his brow furrowed in concern.

"Thalia, can you tell me what happened?" Chiron asked gently.

Thalia took a shaky breath, "The skeletons from our quest… they never stopped following us. I found them at the camp border. They had the Golden Fleece. I tried to fight them and get it back, but they were too strong."

Chiron listened intently, nodding as she spoke. His expression was grave, his mind was racing at the implications of losing the Golden Fleece. "And what about your injuries?"

Percy, noticing Thalia struggling to get her words out, responded for her. "I'm pretty sure her leg is broken. She said she's been in and out of consciousness most the day."

"The skeletons didn't kill me." Thalia added. "I don't know why."

Chiron looked at Thalia with fatherly compassion in his eyes, "We will figure that out. But right now we need to take care of you."

He turned to Percy. "I'll go call off the search party. I trust you can get started treating Thalia?"

"Of course, Chiron." Percy said as Chiron began exiting the infirmary. His thunderous hooves could be heard moments later, gradually fading off into the distance.

Percy was left alone with Thalia in the softly lit infirmary. The room was quiet, the light from a single lamp casting a warm glow over everything. Percy glanced at Thalia, noting how pale she still looked despite the initial relief of being back at camp.

"I'll be right back," Percy said, trying to keep his tone upbeat as he moved to a nearby cabinet. He rummaged through it, finally retrieving a small vial of nectar and a piece of ambrosia. He returned to Thalia's side, holding them out to her.

"Here," he said, offering the items. "This should help you feel better."

Thalia took the nectar first. She drank it carefully, and Percy watched as color slowly returned to her cheeks. She then took a bite of the ambrosia, and a look of immediate relief spread across her face. "Wow, that's amazing," she said, her voice sounding much stronger. "I forget how amazing this stuff is."

Percy gave a small, relieved smile. "It's pretty incredible stuff. I'm glad it's helping."

She glanced at Percy, her eyes twinkling with a mix of humor and affection. "You know, we really need to stop meeting like this. Ever since Westover Hall, the only time we see each other either our lives are falling apart or we're in some danger."

Percy nodded with a faint smile on his lips. "I guess that's what happens when you throw a daughter of Zeus together with a son of Poseidon."

"I guess so." Thalia mused.

"It won't always be like this," Percy assured her. "I'll tell you what. After all this prophecy stuff is over, we need to do something normal. Maybe go a day and pretend we aren't demigods."

Thalia's expression softened, a hint of a smile playing at her lips. "That sounds nice," she said, her voice carrying a touch of warmth. "I'll definitely hold you to that. A day without all this chaos would be a welcome change."

Percy smiled as he picked up a wet rag from the small cabinet beside the bed and carefully approached Thalia. With gentle movements, he began wiping away the dirt and remaining blood from her face. The rag, though damp, was soothing against her skin, and he worked meticulously to clean away the dirt and blood from her battle.

He took a moment to look her over, noting the tattered remnants of her clothes and the fading cuts that marked her skin. Even though she was recovering quickly with the nectar and ambrosia, the signs of her struggle were still evident. His gaze was filled with genuine admiration. "I'm really impressed you managed to hold your ground against those skeletons for as long as you did. You must have been completely wiped out."

Thalia's eyes met his. "Thanks. It wasn't easy. I fought as long as I could. I just wish I could have stopped them from getting away with the Fleece."

Percy's expression turned serious. "That's what's been bugging me. Why did they want it? It's not like they would use it for themselves."

As Percy finished wiping away the dirt and blood from her face, Thalia responded, her voice thoughtful. "You don't think Kronos is planning to use the Fleece for himself, do you?"

"That's what he originally wanted it for, right?" Percy answered. "If that's the case, we might be facing him a lot sooner than we thought."

Thalia shuddered at the thought, her eyes widening slightly with unease. "I really hope that isn't the case," she said. "The idea of facing Kronos… it's enough to make anyone nervous." She looked at Percy, the weight of their situation settling heavily on her. "Let's just hope there's another explanation, and we don't have to deal with him anytime soon."

"I hope so. Maybe we should try to not worry about that right now. There's enough going on as it is."

Thalia sighed. "You're right."

Percy slowly removed the makeshift bandage he had put on earlier, revealing Thalia's leg. The nectar and ambrosia had already started working; the swelling had reduced, and the leg had seemed to begin straightening out. However, her leg still had visible dirt and scratches from where it had been torn. He cleaned the area gently with a sterile cloth, being careful not to hurt her anymore.

While he worked, Percy adjusted the bandages carefully, wrapping them snugly but not too tight. Even though the leg was healing, it needed support to keep everything aligned properly. Thalia winced a little with each adjustment but stayed still, trusting Percy's careful touch. He kept speaking softly to reassure her as he worked, ensuring the bandage was secure yet gentle, providing the support her leg needed.

As Percy finished adjusting the bandage, Thalia looked up at him with a curious expression. "How do you know how to treat a broken leg so well?" she asked, her voice tinged with genuine curiosity.

"I figured it would be useful to know how to treat stuff like this," he explained. "So I spent time with the Apollo campers last summer whenever I could. They taught me a lot about first aid and basic medical care. It's definitely come in handy."

"I didn't realize you'd turned into a mini doctor over the summer." She flashed a teasing smile. "Guess I should be grateful you've got skills beyond running head-first into trouble."

Percy was about to respond, likely with something that poked fun at Thalia, when the faint sound of hoofbeats grew louder through the window. The rhythmic clatter of Chiron's hooves signaled that the search was over and that Chiron was returning to the Big House.

Percy turned to Thalia, his earlier focus shifting to something lighter. "Before Chiron gets in here, I almost forgot, I brought you a birthday gift."

Thalia looked at him with a curious, slightly amused expression, noting that whatever it was had to be in his pocket. "Don't tell me it's a pinecone."

Percy reached into his pocket and pulled out the small, metallic mace canister he had found earlier. He held it up with a grin. "Something just a little bit better."

Thalia's eyes widened as she recognized the canister. "No way! I thought I'd never find it after it got knocked out of my hand. How did you–"

"It was on the ground when I was looking for you. It was practically buried; it's a miracle I even found it." Percy said as he gave the canister to Thalia.

Thalia's face lit up with genuine gratitude as her fingers traced the canisters surface as if she couldn't quite believe it was real. "Thank you so much, Percy. I thought it was gone forever. It means a lot."

Percy shrugged, "I'm glad I could find it. I know today's sucked so hopefully this makes it just a little better. Happy birthday, Thalia."

Just as he finished speaking, the door to the infirmary opened and Chiron came in. He moved calmly to Percy and Thalia. His eyes, usually warm and steady, held a trace of the day's fatigue.

"Percy," Chiron began, "thank you for your help with Thalia. The attack on camp is unprecedented. I need you to gather the captains here at the Big House in thirty minutes. There is much to discuss, and we need to make sure everyone is informed and prepared for what comes next. Kronos is moving quicker than anyone could have anticipated. I'm worried we are all unprepared."

Percy nodded, with a hint of worry on his face, "Got it. I'll let them know."

"I have some calls to make," Chiron said. "I'll meet you in the rec room when everyone is ready." He turned to Thalia, "I'm glad you are okay. I'm sorry this happened to you. If you are able, you of course are encouraged to attend."

"Thank you Chiron. I'll make it."

Chiron nodded as he exited the infirmary. When the door had closed, Percy turned to Thalia, who was now resting more comfortably. The room was filled with a quiet calm.

Percy moved closer to Thalia, his eyes softening as he looked at her. "I'll get everyone together for the meeting. Just... try to rest up a bit before you join us. You've been through a lot today."

Thalia nodded, her gaze meeting his with a mix of weariness and warmth. "I will. See you soon."

For a moment, their eyes locked, and the silence between them grew more profound. The air seemed to hum with unspoken words and shared feelings. Percy's expression softened further, and Thalia's eyes lingered on his, a faint smile playing on her lips. As they held each other's gaze, the room seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them in a silent, meaningful exchange.

Eventually, Percy broke the gaze with a soft sigh, giving her one last, reassuring smile before turning to leave. Thalia watched him go, the warmth of their connection lingering in her thoughts.

Chapter Text

The Unwanted Fate Arc V

The captains gathered in the Big House, each taking their seats in the rec room around a ping pong table. The air was thick with tension, as if the walls themselves were holding their breath. Percy was sitting down, his mind still racing from everything that had happened in the last 24 hours.

Across from him, Thalia sat with her leg propped up, the remains of her injury still visible beneath her bandaged jeans. Despite the healing power of nectar and ambrosia, she looked worn out, but her eyes were bright with frustration. She was restless, the kind of restless Percy recognized—she wanted action, not another talk.

At the head of the room stood Chiron, tall and grave, his centaur form illuminated by yellow lightbulbs above. His face, usually composed, was tense as he looked over the gathered demigods. Next to him, Clarisse from the Ares cabin sat with her arms crossed, her battle-hardened face set in a scowl as if daring anyone to speak first. Silena Beauregard from the Aphrodite cabin sat near Beckendorf from Hephaestus. Everyone in the room could feel the unease pressing in from all sides. If the captains had been called together this quickly and this late, whatever was coming couldn't be good.

As the remaining captains settled into their seats around the room, Clarisse glanced around, her sharp eyes narrowing slightly. "Where's Annabeth?" she asked, her tone gruff but curious. "Shouldn't she be here?"

A ripple of murmurs passed through the room as some of the others nodded, surprised to see Malcom where Annabeth normally sat. Percy felt their eyes on him, but he didn't respond right away. His throat tightened as the question hung in the air.

"She's... not coming," Percy finally said, his voice quieter than usual. "She joined the Hunters of Artemis after the quest."

Clarisse blinked in surprise. Silena Beauregard, sitting a few seats over, leaned forward, her brows knitting together in confusion. "Annabeth joined the Hunters?" she asked, her voice soft but tinged with disbelief. "Really? But I thought you two were... you know..." She let the sentence trail off, her eyes widening slightly as if the words she didn't say hung in the air, clear to everyone.

Percy swallowed hard, feeling a twist of something—regret? Sadness?—deep in his chest. His hand curled into a fist on the table, but he kept his gaze steady. "Yeah, well... that's what she wanted. So she's with them now."

Chiron, feeling the tension gently stepped forward, his gaze resting on Percy for a moment before addressing the room. "Annabeth made her choice," he said softly. "And while we will miss her, we must respect that decision. Now, thank you all for coming on such short notice," continued, his voice calm but carrying the weight of something darker beneath the surface. "I know it's late, but there's something urgent that I need to share with all of you."

The tension in the room thickened as Chiron paused, letting the silence stretch before continuing. "Earlier today, there was an attack," he said, his voice steady but laced with urgency. "A group of skeletal warriors appeared at the edge of our camp, near Thalia's pine."

A chorus of confusion moved through the room. Silena Beauregard shifted in her seat, exchanging a glance with Beckendorf, while Clarisse's scowl deepened. No one had seen or heard anything—no alarms, no sign of a breach. The idea that skeletal warriors could get so close to the camp's borders without detection sent a chill through the air.

Chiron's gaze swept over the group, his eyes lingering briefly on Thalia before he spoke again. "The skeletons didn't breach the camp itself... but they did something far worse. They took something from us." His voice dropped, heavy with the gravity of what was coming. "The Golden Fleece."

A stunned silence followed. Silena shifted uncomfortably, her delicate features tense with worry. "How could this happen?" she asked quietly, her voice carrying a note of desperation.

Chiron's expression darkened, his gaze softening only when it landed on Thalia. "I'm not sure. It was no ordinary attack. These skeletal warriors didn't just rush in—they were strategic, targeted. They appeared near Thalia's tree, just beyond our borders. They knew exactly what they were after."

Clarisse shot to her feet, her fists clenched, a look of anger on her face. "And we just let them take it?" Her voice was sharp, but beneath that, a thread of fear lingered. "How do a bunch of skeletons just walk up to camp, steal the most important thing we have, and disappear without anyone noticing?"

Thalia shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her fists tightening in her lap. "I tried to stop them," she said, her voice low but steady. "I fought them, but they were too strong. They can't be killed. They weren't your everyday monsters."

Clarisse, still standing, opened her mouth to retort, but her gaze fell on Thalia's bandaged leg, the bruises lining her arms, and the exhaustion etched on her face. The anger in her eyes flickered, and she took a breath, her shoulders relaxing slightly. Thalia wasn't exaggerating; she had fought hard, and it had cost her.

Beckendorf, leaned forward, his brow furrowed in thought. "If they took the Fleece, then it's more than just a blow to our defenses. That means they have a way to use it, right? What's their endgame?"

Chiron's face tightened. "Kronos's army knows the power of the Fleece. It can heal, protect, and strengthen. If they're planning to use it for their own purposes... they could grow stronger much faster than we anticipated."

The room fell into a heavy silence, each camper absorbing the weight of Chiron's words. Percy glanced around, seeing the growing fear on everyone's faces. Even Clarisse, who usually thrived on battle and conflict, looked troubled as the full implications of the Fleece's theft began to sink in.

Katie Gardner, the Demeter cabin leader, spoke up, her voice steady but filled with concern. "If they're using it... could they use it to speed up Kronos's return?"

Chiron's expression darkened further, his gaze grave as he met her eyes. "The Fleece has immense restorative powers. I am afraid you may be right."

Everyone knew that Kronos's army was already formidable, even after their recent defeat. The thought of them growing stronger—more invincible—while Camp Half-Blood's defenses weakened with every passing day was like a dark cloud settling over the group.

"We can't just sit around and wait for them to come back at full strength," Thalia said, her voice sharp with urgency. Her blue eyes flashed as she straightened slightly in her chair, despite the pain clearly gnawing at her. "We need to find the Fleece, wherever they've taken it, and get it back. Now."

Clarisse, calmer now but still restless, nodded in agreement. "Thalia's right. We should be hunting them down before they have a chance to use it."

A few murmurs of agreement coursed through the group, but Chiron raised his hand, silencing the calls for immediate action. His voice, though calm, carried a commanding weight. "I understand your urgency," he said, "but we cannot act without knowing where to strike. We don't know where they've taken the Fleece, or how well-guarded it is. They are far away from camp by this point. Charging in recklessly will only cost us more than we can afford."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the gathered demigods, heavy with the weight of the situation. "Kronos's defeat at Mount Othrys was significant, yes. But it was only temporary. The Titan Lord is regrouping, reconsidering his strategy. And with the Golden Fleece in his possession, his recovery—and that of his forces—could be far quicker than we expected. The time we have is crucial. If we act blindly—without understanding the enemy's plans—we risk disaster. We must use this moment wisely, gather intelligence, and be ready for the coming storm." Chiron sighed as he prepared for the weight of something even greater to leave his lips. "But there's something else we need to discuss—something even more pressing."

He let the silence stretch, his eyes moved to Thalia, whose face tensed, as if she knew what was coming next. Chiron's eyes lingered on Thalia before he spoke again. "Today marks something... significant. As of this morning, Thalia turned sixteen."

There was a brief pause, and then a wave of surprise went through the room. Pretty much all the captains were blindsided. Michael Yew from the Apollo cabin leaned forward, eyebrows raised. "Wait, today's her birthday? I thought it wasn't until at least a couple more weeks."

"Sixteen?" Silena Beauregard echoed, her eyes widening. "You mean..."

Chiron nodded solemnly. "Yes. The Great Prophecy."

A murmur swept through the room, and Travis Stoll from the Hermes cabin leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, "Well, thanks for the heads up, Thalia. Nice of you to let us know the world's about to end."

Thalia's glare was immediate and ice-cold. She turned her eyes toward him, her voice sharp and venomous. "Yeah, Travis, because this is exactly what I wanted for my sixteenth birthday. To be the one who will have to choose between saving Olympus or watching it burn."

The sarcasm in her tone was palpable, and the room went dead silent. Travis shifted awkwardly, his smirk vanishing. "I—"

"Save it," Thalia snapped, her voice cutting through his attempt at an apology. "Trust me, if I had a choice, I'd trade places with you in a heartbeat."

The room stayed silent, the weight of Thalia's words hanging heavily in the air. Chiron cleared his throat softly. "I think," he began carefully, "it's in everyone's best interest for the cabin leaders to finally hear the full prophecy. You're the leaders of this camp, and you all need to know what's at stake."

He reached into his jacket, pulling out the weathered scroll that held the words of the Great Prophecy. The paper, old and fragile, seemed to glow faintly under the light.

Thalia glanced at the scroll, her lips curling into a bitter smirk. "I don't need to see it," she said, her voice laced with frustration. "Trust me, it's been drilled in my head."

Chiron hesitated but then slowly lowered the scroll, nodding in understanding.

Thalia's blue eyes flicked around the room, meeting each captain's gaze before she recited the prophecy, her voice steady but tinged with bitterness. "A half-blood of the eldest gods... shall reach sixteen against all odds..." She paused for a moment, the weight of the words hanging heavy in the air. She hated that the words had become so familiar. That she was forced to have the prophecy go through her mind yet again. It was like a curse she couldn't escape.

"And see the world in endless sleep. The hero's soul, cursed blade shall reap."

A cold silence filled the room as Thalia continued, her voice dropping slightly. "A single choice shall end his days. Olympus to preserve... or raze."

The room was frozen in place. Travis Stoll, ever the one to break tension, piped up nervously, "Raze is good, right? Like... raise it up?"

"No," Malcom said quietly, his eyes wide with understanding. "R-a-z-e. It means to destroy."

Thalia's expression hardened, "Obliterate. Annihilate. Turn to rubble."

The weight of the prophecy pressed down on the room, and for a moment, nobody spoke.

Then Michael Yew broke the silence, his brow furrowed. "Wait, it says 'his days'... but Thalia's a girl. Doesn't that mean this prophecy isn't about her?"

All eyes turned to Chiron, seeking clarity. The centaur shifted slightly, his expression thoughtful yet grim.

Chiron spoke slowly, choosing his words with care. "The language of the prophecy... it can be tricky. Ancient Greek, in particular, often uses masculine pronouns as default. The 'his' in the prophecy could very well refer to Thalia."

Thalia stiffened slightly, her eyes narrowing. "Or?" she prompted, sensing there was more.

Chiron sighed. "Or... it could refer to someone close to you. Someone whose fate is intertwined with yours."

The room seemed to chill, and Thalia's eyes instinctively sought out Percy across the table. Her heart clenched, the worry unmistakable as the terrifying thought of Percy being the one to pay the ultimate price gripped her. For a moment, her gaze softened, lingering on him longer than she intended. There was something about the way he sat there, steady and strong, that stirred a mix of emotions.

She quickly looked away, forcing her expression back into one of steely determination, but the fear gnawed at her, refusing to fade. Despite herself, her eyes drifted back to him, this time with something more in them—something that made her pulse quicken ever so slightly, a spark of something deeper that had been simmering just beneath the surface ever since they were at the throne room on Olympus.

Chiron continued, his tone firm but compassionate. "It's important to understand that prophecies are not always literal. They often reveal themselves in ways we don't expect until it's too late. The single choice, the hero's soul... all of it is still unclear. But what is clear, Thalia, is that you are at the center of it, whether the prophecy refers to you directly or those around you."

"Great," she muttered, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "So I either die, or someone close to me does. Perfect."

Chiron gave her a soft, sympathetic smile, though his eyes were heavy with the weight of the situation. "I understand how this feels, Thalia. Prophecies rarely offer comfort, but they do offer guidance. The future isn't set in stone. Your choices matter. All of our choices do."

Percy shifted uncomfortably in his chair, glancing at Thalia, then at Chiron. He opened his mouth, hesitated, then finally spoke. "So... what do we do? We can't just wait for this 'single choice' to show up and destroy everything."

Chiron nodded, his expression thoughtful. "No, we can't. But we must proceed carefully. The Fleece's theft, Kronos's temporary setback, and now the prophecy being set in motion—all of these things are connected. We need to be ready for whatever comes next, and that means training, gathering intelligence, and preparing ourselves mentally as much as physically."

Thalia exhaled sharply through her nose, clearly frustrated. "I don't like this. Sitting around while Kronos grows stronger, while this... prophecy hangs over my head. We need to do something."

"We will," Chiron said, his voice steady. "But we won't rush into danger blindly. You all know the stakes now. This prophecy is bigger than any one of us—it's bigger than Camp Half-Blood. Every move we make must be deliberate."

He paused, scanning the room one last time. "That's all for now. You are all dismissed. Please rest well, it has been a big day."

Percy watched as the rest of the campers slowly shuffled out of the Big House, leaving only him and Thalia behind. The tension that had permeated the meeting still hung heavy in the air, and the weight of everything felt almost suffocating.

Thalia shifted in her chair, wincing slightly from the pain in her leg, but she barely seemed to notice. The electric energy that usually radiated off her had dulled, replaced with something colder, more frustrated. She tapped her fingers against the armrest, her movements sharp and restless.

"You know," Percy said, as he walked over to Thalia and took a seat next to her, "I was kind of impressed how you shut down Travis earlier. That was... intense."

Thalia let out a small, humorless laugh, but didn't look at him. "Yeah, well, I'm not exactly in the mood for jokes. He just—he doesn't get it. None of them do."

Percy's smile faded. "You're right," he admitted. "I don't think anyone really gets it. Not the way you do."

Her eyes flicked toward him, a mix of anger and exhaustion in her expression. "Do you get it, Percy?" she asked, her voice low but sharp. "Do you get what it feels like to have your entire life laid out for you by some stupid prophecy? To know that no matter what you do, no matter how hard you fight, it might not even matter because fate's probably already decided?"

Percy shifted uncomfortably, caught off guard by her intensity. "I guess not," he said honestly. "But I know what it's like to feel like everything's out of control. And I know what it's like to hate it."

Thalia clenched her jaw, "It's not just the prophecy," she said after a moment, her voice rough. "It's everything. The Fleece, almost getting killed, this whole 'wait and see' strategy Chiron wants. I hate it. I hate sitting around while everything falls apart. I feel like I'm... suffocating."

Percy leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "So what do we do, then?" he asked, his tone serious. "What's the plan?"

Thalia looked at him, her expression a mix of frustration and something else—something deeper. "I don't know, Percy," she admitted. "But we can't keep doing nothing. The prophecy... it's not going away. It's hanging over me, every second. And now, Kronos has the Fleece, and we're supposed to just sit here?"

She shook her head, anger flashing in her eyes. "I don't care what Chiron says. I'm not waiting around for fate to show up and decide things for me."

"Thalia, I get that you hate waiting," he said, his voice softer now, trying to meet her halfway. "Trust me, I do too. But you can't fight with a busted leg, and you can't make good decisions when you're this wound up." He glanced at her bandaged leg, the evidence of her fight against the skeletons earlier still fresh in his mind. "Look, I know you're strong, and I know you want to act, but maybe we just need to take a step back for a second."

Thalia's shoulders slumped, the fire in her eyes momentarily dimming. "I just... I don't know how to be still, Percy. I've spent my whole life fighting, running—doing something. Sitting here and waiting? That's not me."

"I know," Percy said quietly. "But... maybe healing up is part of the plan for now. Just... give yourself some time. When you're ready, we'll figure out what to do next."

Thalia didn't respond immediately, her gaze fixed on the window as if the answers were somewhere outside in the dark. The tension in her body gradually eased,

"Fine," she said, her voice resigned. "I'll... give it a few days. But as soon as this leg is better, we're not sitting around anymore. Agreed?"

Percy grinned. "Agreed."

For a few moments, the two of them sat in heavy silence. The weight of the day, of everything hanging over them, pressed down like a fog. Outside, the wind rustling through the trees was the only sound. Percy looked over at Thalia, her posture slouched, her face drawn with exhaustion. It wasn't just physical—he could see the emotional toll everything had taken, how tired she really was. When he caught his reflection in the window, he saw the same thing staring back at him.

Despite that, Percy didn't want the night to end. They were both worn out, but sitting here with Thalia, the quiet wasn't uncomfortable. It was grounding. It reminded him of last night, when she'd stayed in the Poseidon cabin with him. For the first time in days, he'd felt more at ease. Thalia had always been strong, someone he could rely on, but this was different. Being near her made him feel like he didn't have to carry everything alone. It wasn't something he could easily define, but it mattered.

And it wasn't just about having each other's backs because they were in this together—though that was part of it. Percy realized he wanted to be there for her in a way he hadn't let himself think about before. And he knew, without a doubt, that Thalia would be there for him too. It wasn't something he could ignore, this growing sense that she made things... easier, less lonely.

Sitting next to her, even in silence, his problems didn't seem so heavy. Maybe it was because she understood in a way no one else could. Or maybe it was something more—something he was curious to understand. All he knew was that with Thalia, he didn't feel so alone. And tonight, like last night, he found himself wanting to hold onto that feeling just a little longer.

Percy shifted in his seat. Clearing his throat, he hesitated before speaking, trying to sound casual but failing to keep all the awkwardness from his voice. "You know... if you don't feel like going back to Zeus's cabin tonight, the Poseidon cabin's open."

Thalia's eyes flicked over to him, one eyebrow arching in mild surprise. There was a beat of silence, and then she asked, her tone dry but not without some warmth, "You offering to let me crash again?"

Percy shrugged, looking away like he hadn't really thought it through, though the tension in his shoulders betrayed the hope behind the offer. "I mean... it's quiet there. And last night, you know... it wasn't so bad."

There was a pause, and for a moment, Thalia didn't respond. She was quiet, her gaze shifting to the window, as if weighing her options—or maybe her feelings. The thought of staying in Poseidon's cabin again did bring her a sense of comfort she hadn't expected. The quiet of it. The fact that, with Percy, she didn't have to carry everything on her own for a little while. But her leg... the walk back to the cabin seemed far, especially now that the exhaustion from the day's events had truly settled in.

"I liked being there too," she admitted quietly, almost reluctantly, as if the vulnerability of the statement caught her off guard. She glanced down at her leg, shifting uncomfortably. "But I don't think I can make the walk. Not tonight."

Percy nodded quickly, not wanting to push it any further. "Yeah, of course. I just thought—" He stopped, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "Never mind. Sorry. I didn't mean to make it weird."

"It's not weird, Percy," Thalia said, her voice softening, a small, genuine smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "I just... need to rest. The infirmary's just right here."

He chuckled awkwardly, feeling a little exposed but trying to brush it off. "Yeah, that makes sense. I didn't even think of that."

Thalia looked at him for a long moment, something unspoken passing between them. She appreciated the offer, more than she was letting on, and part of her almost wanted to take him up on it. But right now, there was too much going already for her to process. She needed some time for everything to decompress.

"Thanks, Percy," she said. "Maybe another time, though."

Percy's smile widened just a bit at that, but he kept it in check. "Yeah. Maybe."

With that, Thalia carefully pushed herself up from her chair, wincing slightly as she tried to put weight on her injured leg. Percy moved instinctively to help, but she waved him off, determined to manage on her own.

"I've got it," she said, though her tone was softer than usual, a trace of gratitude behind her words. "I'll manage."

He nodded, stepping back, respecting her space. "Goodnight, Thalia."

"Goodnight, Percy," she replied, her voice a little quieter now, her steps a little slower as she made her way toward the infirmary.

She paused for a moment, glancing back over her shoulder, her blue eyes lingering on Percy just a second longer than necessary. Then, with a faint smile that only he could've caught, she turned and disappeared into the dim hallway, leaving Percy alone in the warm glow of the light.