Nico sat on the worn steps of the Temple of Jupiter, his arms draped over his knees as he watched the legionnaires train below. The clang of swords and the rhythmic shouts of commands filled the air, a steady, disciplined hum of life that contrasted sharply with the chaotic energy of Camp Half-Blood. Everything here at Camp Jupiter had a place, a structure. It was different, but in some ways, that difference made it easier to breathe.

Beside him, Hazel sat quietly, her presence warm and grounding. She didn’t push him to speak, didn’t demand explanations—she simply sat with him, the way she always did when she sensed he needed it. After a moment, she spoke, her voice soft yet firm. “You don’t have to push yourself, you know. If Camp Half-Blood feels like too much right now…you can stay here longer.”

He glanced at her, the concern in her golden eyes unmistakable. She understood, maybe better than anyone, what it was like to be caught between two worlds.

A few steps away, Reyna stood with her arms crossed, ever the composed leader, but there was something else in her posture—an openness, a quiet reassurance. “You always have a place here, di Angelo,” she said evenly. “No one’s keeping track of how often you come.”

Nico lowered his gaze, fingers tightening around the fabric of his sleeves. He knew that. He knew Hazel and Reyna meant every word, that he was welcome here as much as he was at Camp Half-Blood. But that was the problem, wasn’t it? He wasn’t sure where he truly belonged anymore.

Still, as he sat between them, with Hazel’s silent support and Reyna’s steady presence, the weight in his chest felt a little lighter. Maybe he didn’t need to have all the answers right now. Maybe, for now, just existing in this moment was enough.