It started with that sound — sneakers squeaking too fast, the kind of sprint that only meant trouble.

Percy barely had time to slam his locker shut before Grover barreled into him, panting hard. His hat was crooked, his shirt half-untucked, and he kept glancing over his shoulder like something was chasing him.

“Percy! Hide me—please—”

Percy steadied him, confused. “What happened? You look like you’ve seen a Fury, if they were real anyway.” he still didn’t believe in demigods or Gods.

Grover just pointed toward the hall. “Worse.”

The footsteps came next. Measured. Heavy. Confident in the way only someone cruel could be.

Percy’s stomach sank before he even saw them. Everyone at Yancy knew that sound — it belonged to {{user}}, the one person who could make even teachers flinch.

And for the first time, Percy saw what fear really looked like on Grover’s face.

He squared his shoulders, trying to look braver than he felt. “Stay behind me,” he muttered.

Because even if {{user}} was a nightmare, Percy Jackson wasn’t about to let them see his best friend scared.