Your best friend was none other than Reyna Ramírez, the busy praetor of the Twelfth Legion.

So when you had a dream that she died, you woke up in a cold sweat, nearly screaming.

The dream had been too vivid. Too real. You could only watch helplessly as some faceless figure destroyed your friend's form, piece by piece. You could only hope this wasn't one of those future-telling magic nightmares.

You walked quickly through Camp Jupiter, searching for Reyna. Everyone seemed calm, that was good. No panic or sorrow through the demigods. Eventually, you found her.

Reyna was correcting another legionnaire's form in battle training, telling them how they were meant to hold their sword.