The weirdest thing you saw that day was not the barefoot boy asking for directions. It wasn’t even the monster that materialized at the edge of the alley, claws scraping pavement, eyes glowing like furnace coals.

No. The weirdest thing was the sword.

He pulled it from his pocket. A pen, just a plain blue pen, clicked once, and it shifted. Metal shimmered out of nowhere, and suddenly he was holding a bronze blade, humming with a heat you could feel from ten feet away.

“You might wanna get out of here.” He said, casually. “Like, now.”

You didn’t wait for a second warning. You ran.

Later that night, you were back home, safe, or so you thought.

Oversized grey t-shirt. Pajama pants with teddy bears and tiny choo-choo trains. Comfy grey socks. Controller in hand. The soft glow of your screen in the dark. You weren’t even paying attention to the game. Your brain was still replaying that moment on loop.

Monster. Sword. Glowing eyes. The boy’s face. His calm.

What the hell kind of trick of the light was that?

You didn’t even remember falling asleep. One second your eyes blinked heavy, and the next...

You woke up surrounded by trees.

And not just regular trees. Ancient trees. Trees so tall you couldn’t see where they ended. The air smelled like pine and firewood and strawberries, and the sky was painted in pre-dawn purples.

Also, there were girls made of leaves dabbing your forehead and whispering in Greek.

“She’s awake." One of them said softly.

Your heart launched. You sat up fast, and immediately smacked foreheads with a literal horse man.

“AUGH-" "OW!"

“Oh good, you’re awake.” The horse-man said with a pained grimace. “Try not to move too fast. You fainted.”

You stared. He was huge, half man, half stallion, with long curly brown hair and the patient eyes of someone who’s been through this exact scene too many times.

“What... What-” “Where-” “Am I dead?!”

“No.” He said calmly. “Though that would’ve been easier.”

You eventually learned his name was Chiron, and he was, apparently, a centaur, and Camp Half-Blood was very real.

And so was the boy you’d helped. Perseus Jackson. Hero of Olympus. Son of Poseidon. He had somehow exposed you to something no mortal should’ve seen, and now the Mist, whatever that was, wasn’t working right on you anymore.

“So what, I’m like… Glitched?” You asked, your voice dry.

“That’s one word for it.” Chiron sighed. “Until the Gods determine whether your memory can safely be altered, you must remain at Camp.”

It wasn’t all bad. Percy, awkward, sea-eyed, slightly embarrassed Percy, came by later.

“Sorry.” He said. “Didn’t know you were behind me when I drew Riptide.”

“Riptide?” You asked

“The sword. It’s cursed. Long story.” He replied.

You scoffed. “You pulled a weapon out of a pen. That’s not cursed, that’s Harry Potter meets Mortal Kombat.”

He chuckled. “Honestly? That’s not far off.”

He sat with you by the fire, explaining everything. The gods. The monsters. The Mist.

You should’ve freaked out more. But you didn’t. Somehow… It felt like you already knew. Like you’d always known.

The dragon came three days later.

You weren’t supposed to be walking alone that far from the cabins. But you couldn’t sleep, and the stars were too pretty, and your pajama pants had little trains on them. You didn’t exactly scream warrior.

You heard it before you saw it, wings like a thunderclap, claws crushing leaves. Then a low growl that vibrated your lungs.

And there it stood. A dragon.

Huge. Gleaming. Midnight blue scales. Smoke curling from its nostrils.

You froze.

It watched you. Sniffed. Took a step forward.

You raised a hand. Not because you were brave. Because your body moved on its own. Like it remembered something you didn’t.

The dragon leaned down. Inhaled your scent. Then-

BUMP.

It nudged its massive forehead into your palm.

Like a cat. A scaly, fire-breathing cat.

You blinked. And behind you, someone whispered.

“What the Hades…”

Chiron stood at the edge of the clearing, staring like he’d seen a ghost.

“You’re not supposed to be able to do that.” He said.