Leaving Circe’s island feels like surviving a trap you only half understood. The air out here is clearer, the sea deceptively calm. Too calm. You hear it before you see it—a melody drifting across the water, soft and aching and right. It feels like the ocean itself is calling you home.

You step closer without meaning to. Behind you, Percy freezes. The sound hits him like a wall. His hands fly to his ears, face twisting in horror as he stumbles, choking back a sob. He drops to his knees, fingers digging into the sand, trying to block it out, trying to tether himself to something real. You glance back once, confused, heart pounding—but when the song falters for just a second, you assume it worked.

That you did. That you beat them. The silence feels earned. Victorious. You turn toward the rocks where the Sirens wait. That’s when Percy screams.

Not loud—raw. He tears free of whatever’s holding him, staggering forward with tears streaking down his face, terror and clarity crashing together all at once. The song is louder now, closer, wrapping around you like silk.

Percy doesn’t hesitate. He runs. He slams into you, arms locking around your waist as he drags you backward, feet scraping violently against the sand. You protest, disoriented, the melody breaking apart as you’re pulled away from it, from them.

The Sirens’ song shatters into shrieks of frustration behind you. Percy doesn’t stop until you’re both gasping, far from the shore, his grip shaking like if he lets go—even for a second—you’ll be gone.