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Butch Walker groaned as he slumped down on his table. Despite getting power through the sun and the morning mist, he felt awful. Miserable noises around him told him that he was not the only camper to feel so.
Being a demigod with their battle instincts led to a light sleep, which, in a camp where explosives and screams were normal, led to early mornings and disgruntled teenagers.
Energy began to flow through his body as his coffee warmed his stomach, giving Butch more and more of his cognitive abilities back. He moaned as he bit into his vitamin-enriched, soy-free, goat-milk-and-seaweed-based cupcake simulations.
After finishing breakfast and sacrificing the leftovers to his mom, he laid his head on the table, enjoying the last beams of the morning sun before he had to go to his activities.
His eyes wandered over to his old table, and how crazy was it that not even one year ago, he was forced to squeeze onto overloaded benches despite being claimed for years. Then Jackson had done the impossible and refused immortality; instead, he had forced the Olympian Council to show respect to the minor gods and their kids.
Butch had never known before what an asset, what a privilege, his own cabin could be. The first time he had entered the bright, light-filled wooden cabin, he had nearly stumbled. A cabin was not only a house, it was a temple dedicated to their parents, and sleeping inside the temple of a god who had a discord with his mom and sleeping inside a room that was saturated with the domains and the will of his mom were like day and night.
He felt much more recovered after any nap, his downtime in the infirmary was cut down, and he scored much better in tournaments. And while he was happy to be on his own, he would never forget the family that the Hermes cabin had been for years for him.
He knew he was one of the last non-Hermes kids who would know that feeling, hopefully forever. All new children nowadays were thankfully only short-term in Cabin 11 before moving on.
All except for one. Danny Fenton.
The older teen had appeared shortly after the Battle of Manhattan, arriving with the waves of other demigods that were sent here. But in contrast to the others, who were claimed within hours, the air above his head remained empty. No sigil, no divine symbol appeared even after days.
Other campers had tried to console him, and Jackson had nearly single-handedly stormed Olympus again to demand justice, to the protest of the supposed victim.
Butch still remembered the discussion that had followed.
“Look, I understand that you guys sacrificed much.” Danny had long laid his face between his hands. “But my dad doesn’t think it’s safe to reveal himself right now. You know, with tension still high from the war, he doesn’t want you to have a bad impression of me.”
“Nobody… will fault… you.” Clovis had tried to reassure him, or at least Butch thought that, the son of Hypnos didn’t have a very expressive face. “Demigods were… not… at fault for… war. There are… many here… with…” And then he had fallen asleep again before he could finish speaking.
“Yeah, dude,” Damian White had sprung up. “There are many from the other side here, and so far, we get along pretty good. Even the gods who were against Olympus got no real punishment.”
At these words, Danny had very visibly flinched before sheepishly rubbing his neck and admitting, “Yeah, that may be the problem. Mine got punished. And I’m not exactly a demigod?”
Yeah, so they had learned that demititans existed.
They had also learned that some Titan had managed to at least briefly escape their prison a decade before everybody thought it possible.
That was almost topped when Danny had met Mr. D. The god of madness had thrown one look at him before choking on his Diet Coke.
So yeah, Danny was apparently also on the cup of ascension, the Titan blood too primordial to not burn away his mortality. But Danny had assured us that the Fates had decreed that he would first die a mortal before he would become a god, or was it a Titan in this case?
Conspiracy theories had since then flown through camp, some more, some less wild. The main one at the moment was that his dad was Koios, the Titan of the North and the celestial axes, if Dannys hyperfixation on space and stars and his colder-than-normal body temperature were any indication. And if you ever ended up on the other side of his overhead swings, let’s just say Jackson had equated it to the weight of the sky, and the guy knew what he spoke of. Additionally, it would not be the first time Koios had broken out of his prison.
So the poor demititan was forced to share with the Hermes cabin as long as he had not told them who really was his father. Not that he seemed to be bothered by it; on the contrary, Danny seemed to have a blast. Always in the middle of the mischief his cabin was producing.
But from the looks of the Stoll twins, it seemed like Danny would be on the receiving end of the joke this morning. Both were eyeing him from the sides of their eyes while giggling the whole time. Their victim didn’t seem to notice something and was happily munching on his breakfast.
Both twins stilled as Danny picked up a cup with apple juice. He took a big gulp before grimacing. Ah, Travis and Connor had switched it with vinegar, a classic prank Butch had also once been a victim of.
Danny seemed to get hit harder by it than normal. He was on shaky legs, moving away to the grass, hand pressed over his mouth as he tried to choke back bile.
The rest of the demigods that were already awake assembled at the edge of the pavilion to watch the tragic destiny Danny was still fighting against.
Then, with a final choke, two objects ejected out of Danny’s mouth. But instead of a mash of mixed food, both objects were solid and defined. And growing…
Under the horrified eyes of the campers, two people stood up, the retching Danny in the background. One of them was a girl who looked like a smaller, lithe Danny in soft white clothes with dark accents. The other was a mountain of a man who also looked like Danny in black, brutal-looking armor with white accents.
“FINALLY!”
“YEAH, FREEDOM!”
Both broke out into a sprint towards the woods. The girl seemed to glide over the grass, weaving through plants and seating as she built a lead over the guy, laughing in pure joy. The guy moved more like a bull, mowing everything down that was in his path. Plants were trampled down and objects knocked over. He moved in a perfect straight line, only swaying as he passed a group of campers to run through them, roaring at them. The campers jumped screaming out of the way.
Only when the two were out of sight, deep in the woods, did all eyes swing simultaneously back to Danny, who had stopped retching, hands pressed on his thighs as he breathed deeply.
He glared at the Stolls, who were both white as a sheet. “I hope you both are happy. It will take me so long to catch them again. If something burns down, I will blame you,” he threatened.
Then he began to run after the two others, his movement accelerating every step until his individual movements could no longer be seen and he blurred over the grounds.
Everybody just stared after him in total silence.
“At least this clarifies who his dad is,” said Malcolm, the son of Athena, looking around at the confused faces of the others before sighing. “At which story remembered you that scene?”
And oh by the gods, that had to be a bad joke.
It was late evening when Danny came back. Camp had been hectic today; rumors had been running rampant. Bets on the last unknown parent had been given, as everybody was pretty sure that they now knew who it was.
He appeared between the flames of the oil bowls like a phantom. Sweaty, full of grime, and looking like he had just come out of a battle. Scratches decorated his face, and bloody bite prints marred his arms. His steps had a slight limp.
Discussions quieted bit by bit until everybody concentrated on the demititan, a great feat for a bunch of ADHD kids.
Danny stopped mid-step as he sensed the attention. “What?” he grunted.
Nobody answered until Jackson had mercy and asked what everybody wanted to know. “Danny, who did you have there in your stomach?”
The teen just smiled fondly back, his hand cradling his belly. “Oh, these were my two darling children.”
Why was it what everybody had thought?
“And why… why were they in your stomach?”
Danny had the audacity to roll his eyes as if the whole deal was an annoyance to him. “Well, they are grounded to my stomach until further notice. Dan tried to overthrow and eat the government, and Dani tried to liberate a Duat-bound scarab… Why is everybody staring? Do I have something on my face?”
Everybody was, in fact, staring, but not at Danny. They were staring at the golden, glowing scythe and hourglass over his head.
“Oh, really, Dad? You really think that is the act you want to claim me on? The impression everybody has to have…” the demititan ranted as a storm brewed over his head and the gods arrived.