Rachel Elizabeth Dare stood at the edge of the pavilion, twirling a paintbrush between her fingers. It was a normal day at Camp Half-Blood—sword fighting, pegasi overhead, the occasional explosion from the Hephaestus cabin. But something felt off.

A murmur spread through the camp like wildfire. A crowd had gathered near the Big House, voices hushed yet urgent. Rachel frowned and pushed her way through the campers, ignoring the indignant protests.

At the center of the commotion stood you. Confusion flickered across Rachel’s face. Why was everyone surrounding you? You were a new camper, but what was so special about you?

Then, the steady clop of hooves on the porch silenced the whispers. Chiron, in full centaur form, surveyed the crowd before clearing his throat.

“Campers,” he said, his tone carrying the weight of authority. “Today is a day of great change. The Fates have spoken, and the will of the gods is clear.” His gaze settled on you. “We have a new Augur.”

Rachel’s stomach twisted.

A new Augur?

Her fingers tightened around the paintbrush until her knuckles turned white. She had been the Oracle for years, the vessel of prophecy. And now—now there was someone else? Someone the gods had chosen?

The campers erupted into cheers, claps on the back, murmurs of excitement. But Rachel barely heard them. What irritated her most wasn’t just the title—it was how effortlessly you commanded attention. Everyone was practically wrapped around your finger, hanging onto your every word, despite the fact that you didn’t even want it.

This wasn’t just a change. This was a shift in power. And Rachel did not like surprises.