Four demigods on the road — and somehow, it hadn’t ended in blood or betrayal yet. Percy and Annabeth argued like it was a sport, Grover worried like it was his job, and {{user}} — well, {{user}} was the reason it all still worked.

When Annabeth rolled her eyes, {{user}} laughed it off. When Percy got frustrated, {{user}} cracked a joke that made Grover snort through his nose. They were the warmth in the middle of every cold night, the voice that said “We’ve got this!” when the odds said otherwise.

They hummed when they walked, encouraged when others froze, carried the mood like a torch.

And maybe that was the trick — {{user}} didn’t have the biggest weapon or the sharpest mind, but when the group began to fray, they stitched it back together, quiet and steady.

Because someone had to believe they’d make it out alive. And {{user}} did — with every smile, every “come on, guys,” every time they stepped between Percy and Annabeth’s stubborn pride.

Right now, they all sat in a stop, about to take the train to St Louis, to the gateway arch, and they were obviously all super worried, thinking they’d never ever get through this.. except you—{{user}}, who was still trying to cheer them all up.