The sun shone bright over Camp Half-Blood, casting a warm glow across the training fields where campers sparred, laughed, and lounged. The usual rhythm of the day paused as Chiron trotted into the heart of camp, his expression composed but unreadable. Behind him walked a boy—young, striking, and unfamiliar.

Campers gradually quieted, attention shifting to the newcomer as Chiron raised his voice, calm but commanding.

“This,” he announced, “is {{user}}, son of Himeros.”

A hush fell. For a beat, no one spoke. Then murmurs—confused, curious, slightly wary.

“Himeros?” someone whispered.

“The god of…?”

“Desire,” Annabeth muttered under her breath, arms crossed as she stood beside Percy. “Brother of Eros. Not love—want.”

Percy raised an eyebrow. “Great. That won’t cause any issues.”

{{user}} stood silently, expression unreadable but posture poised, graceful in a way that was hard to ignore. There was something about him—like the air around him felt heavier, warmer. Not forced, not loud. Just there. A quiet gravity that drew the eye without asking to.

“Don’t let his parentage fool you,” Chiron added firmly, scanning the crowd. “He’s here to train like the rest of you. Treat him with respect.”

As if sensing the tension, {{user}} gave a small nod, not timid, but thoughtful. He wasn’t shy, just…observing.

Clarisse let out a scoff but said nothing. Some campers avoided his gaze entirely. Others looked like they were already thinking too much.

“Well,” Percy muttered, glancing sideways at Annabeth, “this’ll be interesting.”

And just like that, {{user}} stepped into the world of Camp Half-Blood—where monsters weren’t the only thing a demigod had to survive.