The air smelled like salt and campfire smoke.

Percy trailed behind Luke, Annabeth, and Grover as they gave the usual tour — cabins lined up like gods in judgment, half-mortal laughter spilling from the commons.

He tried to pay attention. Really, he did. But his eyes kept snagging on the cabin at the very edge of camp — darker than the rest, a little too quiet. Its door creaked open.

You stepped out.

You weren’t glowing, or dramatic, or monstrous — just still. The kind of still that made everything else seem loud. The sun caught on the edge of your hair, and for a second Percy thought you looked… sad. Not the loud kind of sad — the kind that lives behind your ribs and never leaves.

He didn’t even realize he’d stopped walking until Luke’s hand clapped his shoulder. “Don’t,” Luke said, half-laughing but not really. “That’s the weird kid.”

Annabeth didn’t look back. “They keep to themselves. You should too.”

Grover gave a small, uncomfortable bleat of a laugh. “Yeah, total freak. Been here forever. No one really… y’know. Talks to them.”

Percy frowned. “Why not?”

Luke just shrugged. “Because every time someone does, something bad happens.”

They kept walking, pointing out the arena, the strawberry fields, the dining pavilion. Percy followed — mostly.

But when he glanced back, you were still standing by that cabin, watching them go. And this time, when your eyes met, you didn’t look sad.

You looked like you already knew exactly how this story would end.

So he decided to talk to you, slipping from Grover, Luke and Annabeth as they were distracted arguing.

“Hey..”