The sky answered her.

Thunder cracked so violently it rattled your bones, the sound tearing through Half-Blood Hill like the world itself was warning the monsters to run. Wind howled around Thalia as she planted herself between you and them—between everything and you. Her boots dug into the dirt, shield raised, spear humming with barely contained lightning.

“I said GO!” she shouted again, but this time there was something ancient in her voice. Not just anger. Authority.

The Furies hesitated.

That alone should’ve told them they were already dead.

Lightning wrapped around Thalia’s spear like a living thing, crawling up the shaft and spilling across her arms. Her dark hair whipped wildly around her face, eyes glowing electric blue—Zeus’s power burning bright and furious inside her. Rain slammed down in sheets, the storm bending itself around her like it belonged to her.

And gods, you couldn’t breathe.

You’d seen her fight before—seen her bleed, seen her exhausted, seen her snarl at monsters twice her size—but this? This was wrath. This was promise kept.

One of the hellhounds lunged.

Thalia didn’t even look scared.

She moved.

Lightning exploded outward as she hurled her spear, the bolt riding it, impaling the hellhound midair and blasting it into ash before it hit the ground. She yanked the spear back to her hand as if gravity itself obeyed her, the weapon collapsing smoothly into the mace canister in her grip.

The Furies shrieked.

Not in rage.

In fear.

“She’s… she’s insane,” Luke breathed, stunned, sword forgotten at his side.

Annabeth stared, wide-eyed, awe written all over her face. “No,” she whispered. “She’s a force of nature.”

Another Fury dove for you.

Before you could even scream, Thalia was there.

She slammed her shield—Aegis—into the ground, and the Fury recoiled, clutching its face as terror overtook it. Thalia grabbed the creature by the throat, lightning arcing over her fingers.

“You touched her,” Thalia said, voice deadly calm now. “That was your last mistake.”

She crushed the Fury into smoke.

You realized then—really realized—that she wasn’t just fighting to survive.

She was fighting so nothing would ever hurt you again.

Grover was shouting, begging, pleading—but you couldn’t move. Your heart was pounding so hard it hurt, chest tight with fear and awe and something dangerously close to devotion.

Thalia glanced back at you.

Just once.

And for half a second, the storm softened.

Her eyes met yours, and beneath all that power, all that rage, was her. Your Thalia. The girl who let you steal her jacket when you were cold, who pressed her forehead to yours when nightmares hit, who swore she’d burn the world before letting it take you.

She smirked—just barely.

“Hey,” she called over the thunder. “You still with me?”

The hill trembled.

The monsters knew the truth now.

This wasn’t a hunt.

This was Thalia Grace defending the girl she loved—and the gods themselves would have to answer if they tried to stop her.