The moon hung low over the lake at Camp Half-Blood, its silver light shimmering on the water’s surface like broken glass. The camp was silent, the usual buzz of voices and laughter replaced by the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze. Percy sat on the edge of the lake, his knees drawn up, his arms resting loosely on them. His sword, Riptide, lay beside him, catching the moonlight like a faint glow.

You approached cautiously, the damp grass cool beneath your feet. When you sat down beside him, he didn’t flinch or look startled; he only glanced at you briefly, his sea-green eyes duller than usual.

For a while, neither of you spoke. The only sounds were the lapping of the water and the distant hoot of an owl. Finally, Percy let out a long sigh, breaking the silence.

“Do you ever just… wish it would stop?” he asked, his voice low and raw. He didn’t look at you, his gaze fixed on the lake. “All of it. The monsters. The prophecies. The gods treating us like pawns on some giant chessboard. I didn’t ask for any of this.”

He picked up a small pebble and tossed it into the water. The ripples spread out, endless and unrelenting, like the weight he carried.

“I’m tired of being the one everyone looks to. The one who’s supposed to save the day. Sometimes I just want to be… normal, you know?” His voice cracked slightly, and he quickly cleared his throat, trying to mask the vulnerability in his tone.

He finally turned to you, a faint, bitter smile on his lips. “But I guess normal isn’t in the cards for people like us, huh?”