It was raining — of course it was. The kind of storm that seemed personal, every drop of water hitting the ground like an accusation.

Percy’s voice cut through it first. “How long?”

You froze. Your hands still hovered above the camp map you’d been marking up — only now he could see what it really was. A coded route, inked in patterns that didn’t belong to Camp Half-Blood.

“Percy—”

“Don’t.” He stepped forward, the puddles rippling under his boots. “Don’t say my name like that. Just—tell me how long you’ve been lying to me.”

His voice didn’t crack, but his eyes did — sharp sea-glass, storm-dark, breaking with every word.

You swallowed hard. “Since before the quest,” you whispered. “Before I even met you, technically.”

He laughed — a raw, broken sound. “Gods. And I thought Luke was the one with the betrayal problem.”

You flinched, but he wasn’t done.

“All those nights by the fire, all those times I said I trusted you—was that part of it? Part of your little mission?”

“No!” You took a step forward, desperate. “Percy, it wasn’t—”

“Wasn’t what?” His shout rolled with the thunder above. “Wasn’t real? Or wasn’t supposed to be?”

The rain hit harder. Somewhere behind you, a bolt of lightning cracked, lighting the sky in white and blue.

And for a second, you saw it— the way his knuckles trembled around Riptide, the way his chest heaved like he was drowning standing up.

He wasn’t just angry. He was hurt.

You opened your mouth, but no words came. Just the rain, and the taste of metal in the air, and the sound of something—whatever you had—splitting clean in half.

how did the camp party turn into this..?