The world had been nothing but agony, darkness, and an endless fight for survival. Tartarus had tried to break you, and maybe it had—but you were still standing.

You didn’t remember how long you’d been falling before you hit the cursed ground. Days? Weeks? Time didn’t exist in that place. Only hunger, pain, and monsters that never truly died. You had fought your way through rivers of fire, climbed cliffs made of bone, and faced horrors that no demigod should ever see. But somehow, against all odds, you found a way out.

The Doors of Death. Your last hope.

With every ounce of strength left in your body, you forced them open, the air around you vibrating with power. A hand reached through—the last thing you saw before everything turned to blinding white.

Then—

The scent of strawberries. The sound of waves. A cool breeze on your skin.

Camp Half-Blood.

You gasped, collapsing onto the soft grass, your entire body trembling. Voices rose in shock—campers rushing toward you, but you barely registered them. A shadow loomed, and then Percy was there, his sea-green eyes wide with disbelief.

“Is it you?” His voice cracked. He fell to his knees beside you, gripping your shoulders. “Gods—you’re alive.”

You let out a weak, exhausted laugh. “Yeah… didn’t plan on dying down there.”

The last thing you felt was Percy pulling you into a hug before everything faded into darkness. You were safe. Finally.