The deck of your ship was chaos — but controlled chaos, your chaos.

Annabeth was tied to a railing, glaring sharp enough to cut the ropes herself.

Percy was sitting stubbornly against the mast, refusing help from anyone — even though he’d definitely fallen at least twice during the capture.

Jason was testing the knots, obviously annoyed that they were better than his.

Piper kept whispering to the others, planning four different escape attempts at once.

Leo was trying to charm a crewmember into letting him “just fix one tiny thing on the ship, please.”

Nico stood silent, tense, watching everyone with dark suspicion.

Hazel and Frank were whispering in the corner, trying to figure out exactly what your crew was.

Your pirates just laughed, passing them by like they were weird little zoo animals.

You stood at the bow, speaking with your quartermaster, letting the heroes stew in embarrassment and frustration. You weren’t mocking them. You weren’t threatening them. You just acted like they were already yours.

And that terrified them more than any blade. “Captain!” a crewmate called. “They’re awake!”

You turned. The heroes froze.