The whole camp shouldn’t have been able to move this quietly.

Dozens of campers, armor glinting in the early morning light, stood gathered at the shoreline in a ragged semicircle. They weren’t attacking — not yet — but their hands hovered close to weapons, unsure whether this meeting would end in peace or a fight.

Chiron stood at the front of them all, calm but visibly strained. The sea breeze tugged at his hair as he looked out at the old, battered ship beached against the dock. Its dark wood and torn sails made it look more like a ghost than a vessel.

Your vessel. Your crew clustered on deck, leaning over the railing, watching the crowd of demigods without a single hint of fear. Pirates didn’t fear children of the gods. They feared nothing.

Behind Chiron, Annabeth murmured something to the camp — something sharp, something worried. Percy wasn’t with them. That fact alone hung over the beach like a storm cloud. You had taken him. And the camp wanted him back.

Chiron raised a hand, signaling silence. The waves were the only sound. He stepped forward, hooves sinking slightly in the wet sand. His voice carried across the shore, steady and strong:

“Captain {{user}},” he called, addressing the ship, addressing the shadowed deck where he hoped you listened. “I ask that you come speak with us. No fighting. No threats. We only want him returned safely.”

The beach went still. Your crew exchanged glances. Chiron tried again, louder this time, the weight of the entire camp behind his words:

“{{user}}! Show yourself!”

And the whole camp held its breath.