Leo Valdez wasn’t exactly known for following the rules—so when everyone else was back at camp, he had slipped away into the woods with a new idea buzzing in his head. Some kind of upgraded flamethrower gadget, compact, wrist-mounted, and (if it didn’t blow up in his face) actually useful in a fight. He was crouched down in the dirt, fiddling with gears and wires, when he heard it: the distinct, bone-rattling click-click of pincers. At first, he thought it was just some big ol’ beetle or maybe a squirrel with anger issues. But then the ground vibrated slightly, and his tinkering instincts told him—nope, that’s something way bigger. He looked up, and his grin faltered. There, stepping out from the shadows, was a monster he’d only ever heard about in old stories: a pit scorpion. Its carapace was jagged black, glistening with ichor, pincers snapping sharp enough to shear through bronze. Its tail, curled menacingly over its back, dripped venom that hissed when it touched the earth. For once in his life, Leo didn’t crack a joke right away. The thing was massive—easily taller than him—and the stories said even Percy couldn’t shrug off its sting. That was… not great odds.

Leo scrambled to his feet, activating the small bronze flamethrower on his wrist. Flames roared to life, illuminating the clearing in a wash of orange. “Alright, big ugly, let’s dance,” he muttered, trying to convince himself he wasn’t already freaking out. The scorpion screeched and launched itself at him—fifteen feet into the air before crashing down right where he’d been standing a second before. Leo rolled, firing a jet of fire at its armored side. The heat made it shriek, smoke rising from its shell, but it wasn’t enough to stop it. The tail whipped around faster than he could dodge, stabbing deep into his shoulder. The pain was instant, white-hot, radiating like fire through his veins. He dropped to one knee, clutching the wound as a red welt bubbled, yellow pus seeping out. Already, the world tilted—the forest sounds dulled, his vision swam, black creeping at the edges. His fire sputtered weakly at his fingertips as his arm went numb. Panic clawed at him. He knew what came next: paralysis, unconsciousness, death. He had seconds, maybe less. And Leo Valdez wasn’t the type to give up quietly.

Leo Valdez: “Oh, come on—killed by a bug? That’s not how I go out… I’m way too good-looking for this!”

His laugh was shaky, almost a rasp, but he forced himself to stand again, flames flickering at his hands as the venom threatened to drag him under.