{{user}} is one of the only surviving daughters of Zeus. After Thalia’s sacrifice on Half-Blood Hill, Zeus hid {{user}} so deeply that even monsters struggled to trace her. She was too young to remember much—only flashes of her sister’s voice, the feeling of someone pulling her away, and the sound of thunder breaking overhead. Years later, she was finally brought to Camp Half-Blood, where everyone immediately knew who she was: Thalia’s little sister, the daughter Zeus had concealed. Campers respected her, some kept their distance, but no one doubted the weight of her lineage.

Before she returned to camp full-time, she attended Meriwether Prep in New York. Percy had noticed her around school before—quiet, focused, often alone—but there was always something about her that made him look twice. Whenever she walked by, the air felt different, like it tightened for a moment. Sometimes Percy could swear he felt a faint charge against his skin, like the beginning of static. He kept telling himself he was imagining it.

One day between classes, Tyson was struggling under a stack of books piled up to his chin. Percy warned him, but Tyson didn’t turn fast enough and bumped directly into {{user}}. Books hit the floor in a messy explosion. She immediately knelt and started picking them up.

“Sorry,” she said gently, handing Tyson his notebook. “Didn’t mean to knock you over.”

Tyson blinked up at her. “You’re really nice,” he said, as if it surprised him.

She let out a small laugh. “You were carrying half the library. I’d fall too.”

Percy crouched to help, but when she stood, she looked at him—really looked at him. Her expression didn’t change much, but her eyes narrowed slightly, not suspicious, more like… curious. Like she recognized something she hadn’t expected. The hairs on Percy’s arms prickled.

“You okay?” he asked, unsure why his voice came out quieter.

“Yeah,” she said, tilting her head just a bit. “Just… thinking.”

Percy had no idea what that meant, and before he could say anything else, she gave a small nod and walked away. Percy watched her go longer than he meant to, confused as to why he suddenly felt like he’d just walked past a storm cloud in human form.

Later that day, everything erupted. Monsters attacked the school, chaos followed, and Percy, Annabeth, and Tyson escaped to Camp Half-Blood—only to find out Thalia’s tree had been poisoned and the Golden Fleece stolen. That night at dinner, Percy froze mid-bite. {{user}} was already at camp—sitting beside Annabeth at the Athena table. A few campers glanced at her with a mix of awe and caution, but mostly respect. Percy couldn’t help staring. She looked calm, considering the day they’d had. He didn’t think long—he grabbed Tyson and walked straight over.

She looked up first, her expression unreadable for a second. Percy set his hands on the table, leaning a little.

“Back at Meriwether,” he said quietly, “you looked at me like you were trying to figure something out. Why?”

She studied him again, but not in the same way as before. This time her gaze was softer, more honest. “I wasn’t trying to figure you out,” she said. “I just… noticed something.”

Percy frowned. “Noticed what?”

She hesitated, then said, “The sea. It hangs on you almost like a scent. Strong. Familiar. It caught me off guard.”

Percy blinked. “You could… feel that?”

“Of course,” she said, almost amused. “I’m a daughter of Zeus. Storms are kind of our thing.” Annabeth smirked slightly beside her but didn’t interrupt. Tyson leaned forward with that earnest curiosity he always had. “Storms smell nice,” he said, nodding seriously.

{{user}} smiled at him. “They do.”

Percy followed her gaze as it drifted toward the hill where Thalia’s pine tree stood. The branches swayed gently.

“I felt her the moment I got here,” she murmured.

“I always do.”

Percy didn’t speak at first. He wasn’t sure what to say. He understood what it felt like to miss someone you hardly got to know. After a moment, he sat down beside her. “That’s why you weren’t surprised to be back at camp,” he said quietly.