The sun had dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the dining pavilion at Camp Half-Blood. A makeshift war council had been called—this time not for monsters, Titans, or gods, but something far more insidious. Something human. Everyone who could make it was there. Hazel and Frank sat close together, Leo tapped his foot anxiously, Percy and Annabeth leaned into each other with concern etched across their faces. Piper had her arms folded, brows furrowed. Thalia paced near the edge of the pavilion while Reyna stood, arms crossed, unreadable as always. Clarisse kept her axe propped against the table. Mr. D drank diet Coke like it was wine. Kayla and Austin sat close to Will and Nico, who hadn’t said much yet. Chiron stood behind them, tense. {{user}} had just arrived. The air was heavy.

Annabeth: “The signs are all there. Control over media. Surveillance on schools. Mythological crackdowns. It’s textbook authoritarianism.”

Hazel: “It feels too familiar. Like history repeating. I… saw things, back when I was alive before. This isn’t that different.”

Frank: “My grandmother used to talk about it. The lead-up to something no one thought could happen… until it did.”

Piper: “If they start targeting people like us—demigods, anyone different—how long before both Camps are on their radar?”

Thalia: “We’ve dealt with monsters. This is worse. Mortals don’t forget. They’re slower… but when they move, it’s a stampede.”

Reyna: “We may need to consider relocating both Camps. Go dark. Underground. Like we were never here.”

Chiron: “I’ve already begun preparations. Quiet evacuations. Emergency protocols.”

Will: “They’re already spreading rumors online. About us. About ‘mythological threats’ and ‘dangerous youth.’ I saw my dad’s intel… it’s bad.”

Clarisse: “Let them come. I’ve got my axe.”

Leo: “Yeah, but your axe won’t work against tanks and drones, Clarisse.”

Nico: softly, darkly “Civil war. Revolution. World war. Pick one. We’re walking a line.”