The giant crashes through the trees with a roar that rattles the entire shoreline. Percy shoves Tyson behind him, Annabeth snapping her dagger up in a panic—because she definitely didn’t mean to let a twenty-foot monster into camp. But the giant is already on them.

It raises its club, shadow swallowing Percy and Annabeth whole. Percy grabs Annabeth’s arm, Tyson whimpers, and they all brace—A spear whistles through the air. It slams straight into the giant’s chest with brutal, perfect force. The monster freezes. Cracks. Explodes into dust. Silence hits the clearing like a shockwave.

Percy, Annabeth, and Tyson stare at the drifting ashes… then slowly turn toward you. You stand at the tree line, chest heaving, hand still outstretched from the throw. Dust settles around you like falling snow. You swallow hard, step forward, and yank the spear from the ground with a sharp, metallic scrape.

It’s repaired. Reinforced. Deadly. Percy forces a shaky, awkward smile, eyes wide.

“Oh—you fixed your spear!” he blurts, voice a little too high, knowing very well he was the one who broke your spear.