The day had started perfect. Blue sky, warm breeze, kids lined up in excited clusters with their bows, string fingers clumsy but determined. You and Chiron worked the line together, helping adjust stances, teaching how to pull the string slow, steady.

The Gods sat off to the side — Apollo smiling like a proud dad, Hermes whispering jokes under his breath, Athena and Ares watching like it was some kind of competition. Even Dionysus was there, Diet Coke in hand, eyes half-lidded but sharper than he let on.

The laughter was cut short by a twang.

Too sharp. Too heavy. Not from a child’s bow.

Before you could even process it, pain tore through your neck. Hot. Burning. Your knees buckled, your hand flying to the wound as blood gushed fast between your fingers.

A scream ripped through the crowd. The kids scrambled, some crying instantly, others frozen in place. The girl you’d been guiding—her bow still loose in her hands—went white as a sheet. Her lips parted, trembling, but no words came.

She thought it was her. They all thought it was them.

You gasped, knees shaking, vision blurring. Still, you forced your head up, eyes locking on the children. “It’s—” your voice cracked, wet with blood, “gurgle—okay! It’s okay!”

They didn’t believe you. They couldn’t. Tears streaked faces, tiny hands covered ears, some of the older ones clutching at each other. The girl dropped her bow with a cry like it had betrayed her.

what shocked them most? You weren’t even scared, not for yourself anyway, just concerned for everyone else.

“No,” you wheezed, staggering backward, “not—your fault. Not you.” You locked eyes with her, as steady as you could. “You hear me? Not. You.”

Behind the kids, Percy had already leapt to his feet, scanning the treeline, sword half-drawn. Annabeth barked orders for shields up. Apollo’s glow was gone, his face pale and hard as he shoved through the crowd toward you.

The Gods looked… shaken.

Even Dionysus was standing now, Coke can rolling forgotten in the grass, his expression murderous. The air itself felt tighter, darker, as if Olympus held its breath.

You stumbled into the archery board, wood pressing into your back as your legs tried to give out. Percy caught you this time, arms shaking with how tightly he held on. “Stay awake! Stay with me!”

Your gaze drifted over the kids, still sobbing, still trembling. That was what mattered. Not the pain ripping through you, not the arrow jutting from your neck. Just them.