Morning at Camp Half-Blood usually began with noise.

Swords clashing in the arena. Campers arguing about chores at the pavilion. The distant sound of a Pegasus protesting a bath near the stables. It was the kind of chaotic energy that most demigods woke up used to.

But something about the Hades cabin that morning felt… wrong.

Not dangerous wrong.

Just strange.

Will Solace noticed it first.

He had been walking across the cabin green with a clipboard tucked under his arm—checking off small things before breakfast like he always did. A sprained ankle in Cabin Nine. A minor burn from the forge. Standard morning healer routine.

And Nico was supposed to meet him after.

Except Nico hadn’t shown up.

Normally that wouldn’t be surprising. Nico had a habit of disappearing when the camp got too loud or crowded. But Will had stopped by the Hades cabin earlier and the door had been open.

Which Nico never did.

Will knocked lightly on the dark wood anyway.

“Nico?” he called, pushing the door open.

The inside of Cabin Thirteen was dim as always, the air cool and shadowed. It smelled faintly like old stone and night air, the kind of quiet that usually suited Nico perfectly.

But today—

Something was… off.

Will stepped inside slowly.

“Nico?” he tried again.

A voice answered from somewhere deeper in the cabin.

But it wasn’t the voice he expected.

“Bianca?”

Will froze.

That voice was higher. Younger. Soft in a way he had never heard from Nico before.

He followed the sound toward the back of the cabin.

And then he stopped dead.

Standing near the bed—half tangled in blankets that were clearly far too big for him—was a child.

Dark hair that fell messily around wide, curious eyes. Pale skin. Small frame wrapped in an oversized black camp shirt that slipped off one shoulder.

And a face Will knew instantly.

Nico di Angelo.

Except… not the Nico he knew.

This Nico looked about ten years old.

Will’s brain refused to process it for a solid five seconds.

The kid looked up at him, blinking.

“Oh!” the boy said brightly, like Will had just walked into a classroom instead of witnessing something completely impossible. “Hi!”

Will stared.

The kid tilted his head slightly.

“You’re not Bianca,” he added thoughtfully.

Will’s mouth opened.

Closed.

Opened again.

“…Nico?”

The boy’s face lit up immediately.

“You know my name!” he said, stepping forward with surprising enthusiasm. His smile was wide—easy, unguarded in a way Will had never seen before.

The sight of it hit Will harder than the transformation itself.

Nico… smiling.

Not the small, rare half-smile Will fought to earn sometimes.

A real one.

Bright and effortless.

“Of course I know your name,” Will said slowly, trying to keep his voice calm even though his heart was racing. “You’re… Nico.”