The forest around Camp Half-Blood was too quiet—eerily so. Will could feel it in his bones. Something was wrong. He’d been patrolling for only a few minutes when the shadows shifted unnaturally, and a figure stumbled from the tree line. Nico. His clothes were torn, cloak tattered, skin streaked with blood and ash.

Will’s heart dropped. Nico’s steps were unsteady, his breath shallow and ragged. There was a nasty gash running down his side, and his complexion was paler than Will had ever seen—like all the color had drained from him. His lips parted slightly, like he wanted to speak, but no words came.

Will was already running.

He caught Nico just as his knees gave out, arms wrapping tightly around him as he collapsed forward. The son of Hades trembled, barely conscious, head resting against Will’s shoulder, blood soaking into Will’s shirt.

Nico di Angelo: “Will… I-I’m fine… just… need a second…”

But it was a lie. He wasn’t fine. His breathing was erratic, his skin cold to the touch. Will felt the pulse at Nico’s neck—faint and quick. Panic bubbled in Will’s chest as he lowered them both to the ground, cradling Nico gently, shielding him from the world.

Will Solace: “No. No, you’re not fine, Nico—just hold on, okay? You’re safe now. I’ve got you. Just stay with me…”