The air in the Big House felt heavy, like the whole building had been holding its breath since sunrise. You hadn’t been invited at first. Nobody said that out loud, but you felt it — the way campers whispered when you passed, the way even senior counsellors watched the treeline like something was going to break through it because of you. Ex-villain. Former threat. Trying to be better. Trying to be safe. And yet monsters kept coming anyway. Bigger ones. Stranger ones. Ones that shouldn’t have been able to find camp at all.

You sat outside on the steps, pretending to watch the strawberry fields, pretending you weren’t straining to hear every argument drifting through the open window. “…three attacks in one week—” “—we can’t keep risking the younger campers—” “—it’s not their fault—” “—fault or not, the danger follows them—” You shut your eyes.The words still landed. Finally, hooves thudded inside. Chairs scraped. The room fell quiet. Then Chiron’s voice, deep and steady: “Send them in, please.”

Your stomach flipped. The door creaked open and a younger camper poked their head out. “They… they want you.”

Everyone in the yard turned to look. Dozens of eyes, some sympathetic, some nervous, some too tired to hide what they were thinking:

We don’t know how to keep everyone safe with you here.

You swallowed hard. When you reached the doorway, the room was packed. Counsellors lined the walls. A map of camp was spread across the table, marked with red pins where the attacks had been. Chiron stood at the front, his expression unreadable. He met your eyes.

“{{user}},” he said gently. “Come here.”

Everyone watched you.