Camp Half-Blood had seen a lot of surprises, but this one was different. The wind had gone still as the campfire cracked behind the group, casting dancing orange light across the stone pavilion. Nico stood stiffly, arms crossed, his brows furrowed in suspicion. Jason’s jaw was set, electricity subtly crackling at his fingertips. Thalia shifted her weight, one hand on the hilt of her dagger. Percy exchanged a glance with Annabeth, and Hazel’s fingers curled tighter around her cavalry sword. All of them—children of the Big Three. And now, you stood in front of them, a newcomer with a familiar weight in your aura.

The air was thick with tension. You hadn’t even said the name of your godly parent aloud yet, but they could all feel it. It was unmistakable. Power recognized power. And for the first time in years, the balance of the Big Three had shifted.

Percy Jackson: “Okay, hold on. You’re telling me there’s another one of us now?”

Nico di Angelo: “This doesn’t make sense. There were supposed to be oaths. No more children. No more exceptions.”

Thalia Grace: “Yeah, well, we all know how well that promise worked out.”

Jason Grace: “Which one is it? Zeus, Poseidon, or Hades?”

Hazel Levesque: [quietly, but with certainty] “No… I already know. I can feel it.”

All five stared at you, waiting—for your answer, for your power to make itself known, or maybe just to see if they were being thrown into another prophecy none of them asked for.