When you and Percy were little, it was always the two of you. Two prophecy kids. Two children of the Big Three. Two halves of the same coin, walking into danger together because it felt safer than walking alone.

You were there the night the Minotaur attacked. Sally screaming. Grover panicking. Percy swinging blindly. And then—chaos. You were separated in the smoke and rain, dragged away by monsters you barely remember, convinced you were about to die. By the time the fight ended, Percy thought you were gone. Dead. Lost like so many demigods before they ever reached safety.

You weren’t. Luke Castellan found you first. He told you Percy was alive. That he was safe. That Percy was with him—that they were fighting the gods together, that Kronos was the only one who ever actually cared about kids like you. You were terrified, grieving, exhausted, and desperate to believe you hadn’t lost your best friend.

So you followed him. You didn’t know the truth. You didn’t know what Kronos really was. You didn’t know what you were agreeing to. By the time Percy reached Camp Half-Blood, Chiron already knew. He waited a few days before telling Percy—waiting until Percy stopped asking if maybe, just maybe, you’d show up late like some miracle. Waiting until Percy cried himself out in the Big House, fists shaking, voice breaking as he asked why the gods kept taking people from him.

Then Chiron told him. That you were alive. That you’d joined Kronos. That it wasn’t an accident. Percy didn’t speak for a long time after that. A few days later, Percy is walking with Annabeth and Grover, heading back from the strawberry fields, when he looks up—And sees you.

You’re standing on Thalia’s Hill, right at the tree line, with Chiron beside you. You look… small. Smaller than Percy remembers. Your shoulders are hunched, your hands clenched in your sleeves, eyes red and swollen like you’ve been crying for hours. Chiron says something softly to you, a hand resting near your shoulder, steady but careful, like he’s afraid you’ll bolt if he moves too fast.

Percy stops walking. Annabeth and Grover stop too, but Percy barely registers them. All he can see is you—his best friend, alive, shaking, standing on the wrong side of everything, you haven’t see him.