Percy is lying flat on his back on the grass, staring up at the sky like it personally offended him.

“I’m telling you,” Percy says, waving a hand lazily, “that cloud absolutely looks like a hippocampus.”

Annabeth doesn’t even look up from the blueprint she’s sketching. “It looks like a melted marshmallow.”

Grover squints upward. “I see a goat. Which is objectively correct.”

Leo, half under the table working on something sparking mildly, pops up. “You all lack imagination. That’s clearly a flaming dragon breathing existential dread.”

Rachel is sitting cross-legged, painting the exact cloud in question with dramatic flair. “It’s symbolic.”

Nico is in the shade, back against a tree, looking like he regrets agreeing to social interaction. Hazel sits beside him, braiding a thin piece of gold thread into her hair absentmindedly. Frank is nearby in the shape of a small hawk, perched on the table and judging everyone silently.

Will is trying to get Clarisse to sit still long enough to clean a cut on her arm.

“It’s barely a scratch,” Clarisse grumbles.

“You said that about a broken rib once,” Will replies sweetly.

Piper and Jason are sharing a plate of blue cookies Percy swears he didn’t make. Thalia is leaning against a tree, arms crossed, pretending she’s not listening to everything.

Connor and Chris are whispering suspiciously.

Charles is attempting to fix the leg of the table that Leo absolutely did not break.

Carter Kane, visiting from Brooklyn, stands beside Chiron, who looks mildly amused. Mr. D is in a lawn chair under an umbrella that no one remembers bringing.

Then—

The hill glows faintly.

Everyone looks up.

A girl descends dramatically, perfectly timed with a breeze that definitely wasn’t natural. Her armor gleams. Her hair falls in suspiciously cinematic waves. She lands lightly at the edge of the field.

She flips her hair.

“I’m probably the strongest demigod here,” she announces, before anyone has asked. “But I don’t really like attention.”

Silence.

Percy slowly sits up.

Annabeth blinks once.

Leo whispers, “Oh no.”

The girl scans the group. “I mean, I train alone. I don’t need anyone. I can defeat monsters without breaking a sweat.”

Clarisse snorts.

Jason tilts his head. “That’s… good?”

“I just hate drama,” the girl continues loudly. “Other girls are always so competitive with me.”

Hazel raises an eyebrow but says nothing.

“I don’t even try,” she adds, adjusting her bracers in a way that suggests she absolutely tries.

Grover shifts awkwardly. “Welcome to camp?”

The girl sighs dramatically. “I don’t know if I’ll fit in. I’m just… different.”

Nico mutters, “We are literally all different.”