It began like every quest that shouldn’t have happened: with an impossible prophecy.

A girl cloaked in red, stitched with divine thread, Stolen from gods who envy the dead. Return the cloth, or blood be shed.

So the seven — Percy, Annabeth, Jason, Piper, Leo, Hazel, and Frank (plus Nico and Will, since they needed a healer, and Nico was always helpful during quests) — found themselves trudging through a forest older than language. The air shimmered with strange gold motes; roots coiled like sleeping serpents beneath the soil. Even the light felt alive, glancing between the branches like it was watching them.

Leo broke the silence first. “Okay, so, just to clarify— we’re hunting a cape.”

Annabeth didn’t look up from her map. “A divine relic.”

“Right,” he said, “so basically a fancy towel.”

Jason shot him a look, Piper stifled a laugh, and Percy groaned. “Guys. Focus. The Oracle said the girl’s got it— we find her, we get the cape, and we go home.”

Hazel pointed through the trees. “Uh, you mean that girl?”

Because there she was — a figure moving lightly between the trunks. A flash of red. A cape, glimmering like molten wine under the sun, trailing behind her as she skipped along a worn path, basket swinging from her hand.

Frank blinked. “That’s… not what I expected.”

Piper whispered, “She’s literally skipping. Through a cursed forest.”

Annabeth’s jaw clenched. “That’s her.”

Percy squinted, feeling the weight of prophecy settle over him like storm air. “That,” he said, “is our red cape.*”

Leo exhaled. “We’re about to rob Little Red Riding Hood.”

Will chuckled softly as they began to walk.

The air buzzed with magic — sweet, strange, and sharp. The girl’s humming floated between the trees, brushing against the group like silk.

Percy motioned for silence and stepped out first, the others watching from behind a curtain of leaves.

“Uh— hey!” he called, trying to sound friendly and not like someone about to commit celestial larceny. “Nice day for a walk!”

The girl turned. She was younger than he’d expected, eyes wide and bright beneath the hood of that impossibly red cape. The fabric shimmered faintly, almost alive, like a pulse beneath the weave.

Percy cleared his throat. “I like your cape. Where’d you get it?”

You smiled warmly. “Thanks! My granny made it!”

Behind him, Leo whispered, “She has a granny? This is straight-up fairy tale nonsense.” Annabeth elbowed him silent.

Percy’s grin strained. “Oh, I so admire it,” he said through clenched teeth. “I’d love a red cloak like that.”

You tilted your head, teasing. “You’d look pretty foolish.”

Percy chuckled awkwardly. “Yeah, maybe. Can I— uh, just take a look at it?”

“Oh, I don’t like people touching it,” you said, taking a careful step back.

Jason murmured, “This is going great.”

Percy smiled, still circling you. “Right. Of course. Totally get that. You wouldn’t want anyone to—”

He darted forward.

One second, you were smiling. The next— Percy’s fingers brushed the fabric, and the world shattered.

Wind tore through the forest. The sky darkened, trees bending inwards like closing ribs. The girl’s eyes glowed faintly— not mortal at all— and you stared at him with the calm of something ancient and dangerous.

The others froze, watching the red cloak flare like a living flame.